# Wraith's Whispers - CoSQ (Update: 4/5/04)



## Wraithdrit (Mar 6, 2003)

Greetings and salutations. I hope you enjoy my writing and my story. My players and I are really enjoying this game. 

If you want details on adventures, settings, characters, NPCs, etc, just let me know. As long as the knowledge would not effect the players, then I will give details freely. Also you can check out my website (see my signiature) for some NPC info, player character details, and other fun stuff.

This is a modified version of the City of the Spider Queen Campaign. I have crafted a prologue and taken many liberties with what was already a fine campaign. Kudos to its author. It really is a smart set up.

4/5/04: Updated! Playing tonight. Some 'off camera' scenes in this update as well. Really enjoyed writing this update.


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## Wraithdrit (Mar 6, 2003)

*Session 1*

*Dagger Falls, Daggerdale, Faerun - Spring* 

The town of Dagger Falls is rough around the edges. Civil war has the effect on people. Weapons are common, so are rough attitudes, and even rougher people.

"Buncha, damned sissies!" The dwarf stomped away from the front door, slamming it closed behind him. He stood in the street and fumed. "Won't nobody help me with freein' me mines?" A thought occured to him. Randall Morn, the city's ruler, might be able to help him find someone.

A few hours later...

"I understand your predicament, Master Alepounder, but you must also understand mine, I just don't have the men to spare. The Zhentarim could make another move on Dagger Falls at any moment. News has already come of more raids in the northern most farms. I just can't spare anyone."

"Please, call me Durgaden. Ifn' ya can't spare men, then mayhaps you could point me towards a place where I might find some people willing to help me." Durgaden Alepounder was getting desperate. He would even take nondwaves with him at this point. He was finally prepared to take back his home. The great dwarven mines of Tethyamar would once again sing with sound of dwarven hammers and forges.

"Try the Blackened Chalice," Morn shuffled a few pieces of parchment from in front of him into his desk. "Most of the people looking for work around here end up there at some point or another."

"Great. Much obliged, and when me mines are once again flowing, you can rest assured that Dagger Falls will be a welcome trading partner!"

"Indeed." Morn tried to smile. "Now if you don't mind I have -"

"One other thing... coulda have some write me up something I can post at the Blackened Chalice, me common handwritin' ain't so good."

Morn stiffled his distaste. "Of course." He scribbled something onto a piece of parchment and handed it to Durgaden. "Show this to my assistant, he will get you a scribe."

"Wonderful!" Durgaden turned and walked out, the massive iron shield strapped to his back had a large mug of ale partially tipped over, brimming with foamey ale, the first few tastes pouring out one side. Morn just shook his head, assuming it was the last time he would ever hear of Durgaden Alepounder.

***

Tanerus listened from his seat, lifting the large ale mug in both hands so as not to tip it. He once again thought of buying his own ale mug and carrying it with went he came into taverns, human mugs were so cumbersome. But knowing humans, they would charge him human prices for halfling portions. Oh well. 

*Bam!* 

The front door to the Chalice burst open and grey haired dwarf dressed in a breast plate with a huge shield and axe slung across his back strode in and looked around. Spying the large central pillar covered with notices, the dwarf stomped up and began ripping of other notices, pulling the nails out of them. He unrolled a large notice of his own and began using the nails to post it soundly on the column. He failed to notice the dozen or so nails without notices that stuck out, unused, from the column.

Tanerus stood and walked over and read the dwarf's notice. Interesting, the dwarf was headed to the Mines of Tethyamar. Sounded like it was were he was headed. Might as well get paid.

"How much you paying for help?" Tanerus asked.

"Paying? Uh... well you get to keep part of the treasure we find. But the mines are mine." The dwarf seemed pleased with himself. Normally Tanerus would bargain a bit, but he wasn't really after the pay anyways. "Alright. I'm interested..."

"Great. We are meeting atop Fallen Stone hill. Right outside of town." The dwarf turned and walked toward the door, humming some sort of drinking song as he went. 

Tanerus slipped out behind the dwarf but knew he had to make a stop first. The alchemist's shop was dusty. But then Tanerus had never been to one that wasn't. A small bell chimed as he slipped through the door, and the purveyor looked down at the small fellow. "By the gods, a Ghostwise... what are you doing in these parts little one?"

"How do you know what I am?" The xenophobia was ingrained in his being. No one really knew about the Ghostwise Halflings, at least not many, and being confronted with his heritage kinda startled Tanerus.

"I get around. What can I do for you?" The old man pushed his glasses up a bit on his nose, a futile effort rewarded only for a moment with clear sight before the glasses slid back down.

"I need a healing potion." 

"Healing potion eh? What strength? I have, 'Ouch that was a nasty paper cut' all the way to 'Oh no, I accidentally lopped off my hand.'" 

Tanerus smirked, "Something in between."

"How about 'I just cut myself really bad with my knife and need to stop the bleeding'?" The old man produced a potion bottle filled with a blueish colored liquid.

"That'll do." A few minutes later Tanerus was walking out of the gates of Daggerfalls. Atop the hill outside of town, Fallen Stone Hill, lay two massive ancient menhirs. Set between them was a massive inferno of campfire. The dwarf could be seen adding even more wood to the fire. "Subtle," Tanerus muttered as he strode up the hill.

***

A knock rang out through the apartment, and its owner went to the door. The place was neat, but well used. Most of its more important contents were neatly packed in a bag on the table. Someone was preparing for a trip.

"Will, glad you are here. Remember that book I gave you? The one that talked about the mines that you were so interested in?"

William Farseer opened the door farther so his cousin could come in, "Yes."

"Well some dwarf is name Beerguzzler, or something, is leading an expedition there." Gerik seemed more excited that he had found out the news for Will than in the news itself. 

Will smiled, "Really? Where is now?" He walked over and picked up his crossbow, slung his quiver over his shoulder and his bag over his other shoulder. "When are they leaving?" 

"I don't know when they are leaving, but hes up at Fallen Stone Hill, burning the place down."

Will looked at his cousin, one eyebrow raised. 

"Well it is a really big bonfire... though I suppose you can't really burn down a hill. I mean hills don't burn. Well, the grass would, but not the earth or the rock. Especially not those rocks. They are probably enchanted. I'll shut up now." Gerik snapped his mouth shut and waited for Will to say something.

Will looked around, ignoring his cousin for a few more moments. He had everything he needed. He held out his arm, his pet owl flew from its perch and landed on his thick bracer. "Its okay Gerik. Thanks for telling me. You will look after my apartment while I'm gone right?" 

"What else is family good for?" Gerik beemed, Will had a great apartment. 

Will tossed Gerik a key and walked out, calling back, "Stay out of the dresser, its enchanted and will know if you get into it." Gerik looked at the dresser in awe. An enchanted dresser, such neat things adventurers bring home. He wondered if Will would bring him home anything. Walking across the room toward the cupboards he gave the dresser a wide berth.


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## Wraithdrit (Mar 6, 2003)

*Session 1 (Continued)*

Will knew his horse would make enough noise that even the loud drinking dwarf would hear him coming. What did surprise him though, was the small wild looking halfling that sat with the dwarf. The little one had darker skin than most halflings, and though his clothing was civilized he seemed a bit... wild. 

"Greetings human!" The dwarf raised a mug at him. Will smiled and nodded, "I hear you need help clearing out the mines. I might be interested." 

"Aye. Me mines awaiting. Nothing but a bunch of goblin and orc sissies sitting about waiting to have the heads stomped in."

"Thats funny, I had read the mines fell to a horde lead by demons."

"Bah! Foolish talk! I been out there and scouted it out meself. No demons. Just some orcs and maybe a few humans. Its nothing. You interested in helping?" 

"I suppose so." Will knew there was more to this, but he did not really see any point in dragging this conversation out. "Its getting dark, we leaving in the morning?"

"Aye. Want some ale?"

A couple hours passed and just as they were getting ready to bed down for the night a low howl rolled across the rough terrain to the north of them. The winds swayed in the night breeze and at first they thought it was just the wind, but then it came again, a low bellowing howl. It seems the fire had gotten something's attention.

The three scrambled to their feet, Durgaden pulled out his shield and axe and took up position between the where the two massive menhirs almost came together. Will stood behind him and off to one side, staring into the darkness. Tanerus slipped out of the back of camp, into the night. The soft glow of the light of town to the south revealed an ancient fallen tree at the base of the hill. Beyond that, rough grasslands spread into the darkness.

From out of the depths of darkness, shapes began to be made out. One large form, followed by several smaller forms. 

Durgaden reached down, picked up a massive leg of lamb he had been eating on and tossed it out into the darkness, "Chew on this a while!" The response was unmistakable. The large creature bellowed out a yell and began charging toward the group, covering lots of ground with its massive stride. As it came closer, it was finally visible for what it was, an ogre. Beyond it, the smaller forms (about the size of humans) stopped and flight of bolts flew out at the party. They clanked harmlessly off the ancient rocks, but Durgaden and Will had sense enough to get out of the open.

The ogre reached the massive fallen tree and started to climb over it. Another few moments and he would be on them. Durgaden grinned and gripped his axe tightly. Soft enchanting words came from behind him. Startled he turned to see that Will had both feet planted and his hair was whipping back in some otherworldly wind. The last syllables left Wills lips and he pointed at the ogre. Giant black tentacles sprouted from the side of the tree and began grabbing at the ogre, squeezing and pulling the massive beast in every direction. 

Durgaden swallowed and then nodded to Will, as another flight of bolts bounced off the fallen menhirs. Tanerus continued to make his way hidden around the hill, he stopped dead upon seeing the writhing tentacles ahead. Just as he made out what it was he was seeing loud wet ripping noises came from the massive of tentacles and the ogres screams died quickly as it was ripped limb from limb. 

The black tentacles seemed content to each writhe in the air, bits of the ogre grasped in each tentacle.  Durgaden blinked, not believing his eyes, "Thats some magic you got there Will!" His praise was cut short by another volley of bolts aimed at their position. Will stepped out from the cover, raised his hands and began chanting again, this time a reddish glow appear between his hands, his hair whipped back from his face as he shouted the last arcane words pushing the pea shaped ball of fire out at the archers.

It arced across the plain, spiralling, growing, till it landed and blossomed into a massive explosion of fire. Tanerus through up his hand to protect his eyes from the light. He blinked a few times and when his eyes finally readjusted to the darkness, none of the archers stood. The few closest to the center of the blast were completely destroyed. Durgaden whistled, "That is SOME magic you got there Will!"


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## Wraithdrit (Mar 7, 2003)

*Session 1 (cont)*

The next morning found the party making their way towards the mountains east of Daggerfalls. The journey up the side of the mountains was hard, but there was a path to follow, so at least the way was clear. Eventually the party came to the top of the ridge marking the highest point in the pass they were travelling through.



> The mountainous Tethyamar Road seems nearly impassable by wagon, but the semifresh ruts dug into the road seems to indicate otherwise. The amount of work it would take to get a caravan along this road seems almost not worth the effort, but traveling far to the south, to get around the mountains and the desert beyond would mean traveling through Cormyr and some people just don’t want the scrutiny of such a public path.
> 
> The road heads up the side of the mountain where the grade is the lowest. Huge rocky protrusions sprout everywhere with moss and other higher elevation greenery growing between and on the rocks. The path somehow meanders through the protrusions taking an eternity to finally crest this part of the mountain. From the crest you feel like you can see for leagues. The road itself snakes down the other side of the mountain and dips into the dark recesses of the Border Forest. Beyond that lies the great Anauroch Desert.
> 
> Your awe inspired view is disrupted though, when you hear the sounds of battle below. Through the rocky crags you can see a huge figure being harassed by several smaller figures, from here it looks like they could be human or orcs. They are using crossbows to pepper the beast from different directions. Each time the beast turns his attention to one of the small groups, they begin to retreat. That seems to be the cue for the second group to relaunch their attack. All the while, a single pair stands far off to the side, watching the whole scene unfold.




Durgaden rubbed his beard a moment, "That be a stone giant!" But something was wrong with the giant, all of them could tell. It whipped its head back and forth each time it was attacked, and swung wildly as it stumbled about.

Tanerus voiced what they all thought, "They've blinded it." It was about that time, that one of the pair of attackers watching from beyond the battle pointed up toward the group and began talking to the other of the pair. 

The one pointing out the party was slender, feminine, draped in a massive cloak and laying against a large boulder. The other was an armor clad brute of a man, broad shouldered, carrying a bastard sword and black shield. He took up his weapons and began striding up the hill towards the giant. His companion seemed to peel herself from the stone and threw up her hands and began chanting. 

Will frowned muttering, "Incoming." He too threw up his hands and began casting.

Durgaden growled, "But this ain't our fight, we should let em kill the giant and move on." He drew his axe and spurred his mule forward nonetheless. They were going to be drawn into this anyways it seemed.

Tanerus dug his heals into his riding dog and the two shot down the trail. The trail was rocky and winding and the footing was treacherous, but Tanerus knew how to lean into the turns, and lean back to aid the dog in descent, so things were going well for him. 

Durgaden on the other hand was all curses. His mule wasn't fairing so well. 

High above the battlefield, energies collided as the sorceress' spell collided with Will counterspell. Rage red fire collided with an intense blueish black ball that Will had thrown forward. With the sound of a howling wind both spells dissappeared into the weave. 

Durgaden let out a hoot and waved his axe, still trying to reach the battlesite below. "No saucey spellflinging wench gets past Alepounder's crew! Har!" 

Will smiled and began to cast his own spell. "See how they like it when the giant isn't blind...." A small arc of energy left Will's hands and blossomed into a blue glowing bubble that centered on the giant and grwe outward before fading from sight. It seemed to have no effect at all on the giant's blindness.

The sorceress took advantage of Will's distraction with the dispel magic to toss another fireball, this one, Will could not counter. It blossomed into a raging inferno around Durgaden and Tanerus. But when the flames fell away, both were still standing. Tanerus had somehow ducked into a small crack beneath a boulder and was unharmed. Durgaden, though blackened seemed only to get madder.

Tanerus rolled to his feet, as two of the archers switched to swords and charged him. They were overconfident, leering as they tried to cut down the little halfling, but this package was more than they bargained for. He lept to one side, caught with minor blows to one arm, and thrust his small sword deep into one man's stomach. Though it did not kill him in one blow, a twist and a wrench and the man fell back dead. 

Screeching in rage, the sorceress flung her hands forward again, muttering faster arcane words, a short spell that Will somehow managed to match arcane symbol for arcane symbol. Bolts of energy flew from her hands, arching up toward Will. He smiled as his own bolts flew, unerringly smashing into hers. Her bolts fizzled when hit and small harmless sprinkles of magic rained from their interception.

The armored assailant reached the giant and began to cut the blind beast hard. He hack at the creatures legs first, hoping to bring it down to finish it off.

The sorceress slinked forward, putting herself behind a boulder so Will could not see her, just the other side of where the giant battled her companion.

Tanerus sparred with the other fellow attacking him, the rest of the archers kept on the giant, seeming determined to bring him down. One archer turned and began up the hill toward Will, dropping his bow and drawing his sword. Durgaden arrived and easily cut down one of the archers moving to intercept him. 

Without the sorceress in sight, Will decided to take the offensive, his incantation complete a mass of webs began roping between several boulders, soon, the giant, his assailant, the sorceress, and several of the henchmen where caught up in the sticky substance. 

Durgaden and Tanerus continued to dispatch the stragglers of the archers, seeing that they could not get into the web to do anything there anyways. 

A loud bellow erupted from the web and the armor clad assailant came flying from within the web, his shield bent in half and his armor severly dented. The giant had apparently finally made contact with something. The black armor clad assailant fell in a heap, sliding to a halt at the base of a boulder. 

Will began a now somewhat familiar incantation and black tentacles grew inside the webs, grabbing at anything they could find. He had aimed the spell back, away from where the giant was emerging from the web, knowing that was where the sorceress had been. But the screams from within where only masculine. 

Tanerus was busy with a few more archers, as Durgaden turned toward the man clad in the black armor. The man stirred, and Tanerus yelled to him, "Ye can be given up now or later!" The man's response was to quaff a potion. It seemed to clear his head and he gained his feet quickly. A pair of his henchmen rounded the boulder to help protect him. Durgaden just smiled, "Thats how you want it eh? So be it!"

The one that had climbed up the hill at Will was getting closer, so Will intone a quick protection magic, turning his skin hard as rock. Then from behind a nearby boulder slunk out the sorceress! She had used some sort of transporting magic to escape the webs. Will saw his companions far into the valley, with him alone with these two and swallowed hard, this might not end well after all...


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## Wraithdrit (Mar 7, 2003)

*An aside...*

I would love to hear some comments, questions, anything.  I'm a feedback junky, so please don't be bashful. Oh and the rest of session 1 and session 2 should be posted shortly.

- Wraith


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## sparhawk (Mar 7, 2003)

Can you provide some character information?


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## Wraithdrit (Mar 7, 2003)

*Session 1 (wrap-up)*

The sword swung out at Will, but clanged harmlessly off his stoney skin again and again. Will tried to keep his attention focused on the sorceress, without ignoring the man attacking him. 

At this distance Will could tell that the sorceress was not human, she moved more like a snake, and was covered in soft scales. Her ears were pointed, and her eyes glowed a dull red. Will had seen and heard of the these creatures before, she was demon tainted.

She locked eyes with Will and smiled. Her voice was unearthly and seemed to cut straight to his heart. "*Don't attack me... We can be friends... we can work together...*" Will started to lower his arms, his eyes where caught in her gaze and he felt like a blanket had been thrown over his mind.

He thought how lovely she might truely be. How his heart longed to be with her for eternity. Perhaps they could work together. With their combined magic who knows... they might even...

Will blinked and shook his head. "What the hell am I thinking? No!" Quickly he incanted a spell and globe of protection sprung up around him. The sorceress screeched as his her charm faded harmlessly away and threw up her hand, a black bolt flying forth at Will. He dodged to one side and the bolt sizzled as it impacted behind him. It had gone right through his globe, it was indeed powerful magic, worse she hadn't even cast a spell... that was some sort of innate charm and attack ability. Will wondered if the travel magic she used was innate as well. It would explain how she got out of the webs.

Tanerus dispatched the last of the archers on him and turned to see Durgaden deep in melee with three, including their leader. But Durgaden seemed to be in his element. His feet were planted and he seemed to just know where attacks were coming from. His armor and shield would always be angled to catch the blow just right, and his axe lashed out in revenge again and again. 

Tanerus smiled, Durgaden didn't need his help, but he was gonna get it anyways. He stepped up behind one of Durgaden's assailants, lept up, grabbed the back of the mans shoulder, planted a foot in the small of the man's back and from his little perch, easily slid his sword through the mans neck, severing his spine and ending his life in a flash. 

The leader fell, cleaved down one shoulder, almost to his waist. Durgaden grimaced, the man's bastard sword had cut him deep, but there was plenty of fight left in the stout dwarf. The last man fell quickly to the combined sword and axe of Tanerus and Durgaden.

The sorceress tried another fireball, but again Will countered. The man in front of Will seemed downright frantic, clanging his sword off of Will again and again. Durgaden and Tanerus turned and began racing as fast as they could up the hill.

The sorceress launched into another fireball incantation, and Will's face fell... he just was not prepared for this many. Flames raced over him and his assailant. Will stumbled back, his assailant nearly dissentegrated in the flames. When the flames receeded, Will was still standing, though shakey. He through his arms forward and cast a quick minor spell at the sorceress, catching her off guard. Her limbs began to move slower, her movements seemed like she was in water. She screemed in anger, an unearthly screem, not due to the slow spell, but rather due to her heritage. 

Tanerus and Durgaden got closer, charging as fast as they could up the hill toward the demonic sorceress. Her gaze moved from party member to party member, as her hand slowly moved up to unclasp the large cloak that covered her. As the cloak fell to the ground massive batlike wings unfolded from her back. 

"No!" Tanerus yelled and whipped a knife out of his sleeve and pulled back to throw it. Durgaden pulled a hand axe from his back and also looked to throw. Will slumped to his knees, looking down at his hands. He was spent. All his energy was gone. The few minor spells he still had prepared would do nothing to keep her from getting away. 

As the sorceress spiralled slowly up and away, Tanerus and Durgaden both lowered and then stored their weapons. There was no way they would make a throw that long. This one would just have to get away. With ground so rocky, and the direction she was headed, there was no way they could trail her, and eventually the slow spell would wear off and she would fly even faster away.  

Will sighed and stood up. Durgaden looked back at the giant, who had sat down on a large boulder. Tanerus began searching the body of the closest fallen foe. No one had much to say. It had been a tough fight, and it seemed their main foe had gotten away.

*End Session 1*


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## Wraithdrit (Mar 7, 2003)

*Character Info*



			
				sparhawk said:
			
		

> *Can you provide some character information? *




Sure. Are you interested in the PCs or NPCs they faced?

The Ogre in Encounter 1 was a 4th level barbarian. He had 68 hit points and went down so fast it was not even funny. I had originally designed the encounter a little easy since the party was one member light. After that I decided not to let up on Encounter 2.

The henchman in encounter 2 where all level 2 warriors, humans and orcs. The Lt was a 6th level fighter. The sorceress got away so I won't be giving out any info on her.

Quick PC Run down:

Will is a Human Invoker, Level 8. He hates wizards that dress in pointy hats and carry signs that say shoot me first, I'm the mage. So he prefers to carry his crossbow visibly, and travel in travellers garb, hoping to be mistaken as a ranger or even just a nobleman. His family are merchants in Daggerfalls, so he is fairly well off.

Durgen Alepounder (which I thought was Durgaden, I will have to check with the player on that one) is a Shield Dwarven Defender/Fighter, Level 1/7. He is a descendant from dwarves that resided in Tethyamar wastes no opportunity to call Tethyamar 'me mines'.

Tanerus (not his real name) is a Ghostwise Halfing Fighter/Rogue, level 2/6. Originally Tanerus was going to take enough levels of fighter to get specialization, but now he is really leaning toward the Shadowdancer prestige class. If there is one thing he does REALLY well, its be sneaky. REALLY sneaky.

Amador (introduced in Session 2) is a Moon Elf Cleric/WarPriest of Corellian Lorethian, Level 7/1. He is very devoted to his worship of Corellian and his elven heritage is very important to him.

Oh and the quoted text in Session 1 is my typed description for an area, so you guys get a feel for what my players are told for the area, etc. I like to do descriptive texts when I have the time, so I might as well share them, eh?


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## Wraithdrit (Mar 7, 2003)

*Session 2*

*Somewhere in the Mountains West of Daggerfalls* 

"So giant, why should I be saving ye, and not cutting ye off at the knees?" 

_What have I ever done to you?_ 

"You're a giant, ye kin and my kin are always fightin'! Ye probably killed plenty a dwarf in yer day."

_Not my kin._ 

"Well what are you doing in these parts?" Durgaden wanted any excuse possible to cut the giant down. His blood boiled at the thought of helping a giant. Next he would be helping drow!

_Travelling._ 

Tanerus piped in, "Travelling where?" He had collected all the items of interest off the bodies.

Will was surveying the items, a quick enchantment cast on himself to see which of the items were magical. He pointed to the potion they had found off the leader, "Just the potion, Tanerus."

_To the woods._ The giant pointed north.

"Where ye be from?"

_The mountains._  The giant pointed to the south.

Tanerus asked, "Why are you going to the woods?"

The giant smiled and patted his large club. _My club does well, but I think its time for a new one. There are good trees in the woods, not like the scraggly little trees in the mountains._ 

"Yer goin' to the woods to get a new club?"

Will turned to the giant, "Giant, I can temporarily dispel the blindness if you don't mind me getting close." He mounted his horse as the giant agreed. Will moved his horse closer, and his globe of invulnerability engulfed the giants head the giant blinked and smiled.

_Much better... but only temporary?_ 

"I can cure the blindness, but not until tomorrow and we have a ways to travel yet today. But the real question is why should I cure you?"

_I'll pay you... with this._ The giant pulled a large gem from his pouch. In the giants hands it looked tiny, but in truth it was a fairly decent sized gem.

"Sounds good to me."

"What? Are ye daft?" Durgaden really couldn't argue the point. But he didn't have to be happy about it. 

"We'll tie a rope to my mount and lead you with that, until such time as I can gain some rest and cure you."

_Very well then._ 

With that, the party was off, they quickly made their way down out of the mountains and began into the forest. 

Tanerus called a halt. "There is a figure moving up ahead."


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## Wraithdrit (Mar 7, 2003)

*Session 2 (Cont)*

Tanerus rolled off his dog and into the brush so quickly and quietly it was near impossible to see him, even though Durgaden and Will saw him move off. Sure enough, some 90 feet away, a figure wearing chainmail, carrying a sword, led a horse through the less denser portions of brush. 

As Tanerus crept forward he could tell that the figure was actually elven, a moon elf at that. He slipped in behind the moon elf about the time the moon elf saw the rest of the party and decided to hunker down behind some brush. Try as he might though, the elf couldn't get his steed to be very stealth.

"Oi! No use hidin'. We done already seen ya!" Durgaden's voice rolled through the trees. To the elf it sounded like boulder's crashing against a hillside. So much noise from one so little.

"Yes, but I don't know you and you don't know me." The elf's reply made a bit of sense. "Besides that, you are travelling with a giant." 

"Eh him? He's blind. We are just gonna help him. Come closer sos I don't hafta yell so much!" The elf thought anything was preferable to the dwarf continueing to yell so he moved up closer to them.

"We be ye? I'm Durgaden Alepounder, and this is Will." 

"My name is Amador." 

"What are you doing way out here?" 

"I have business out here, I am in the service of my diety, Corellian Lorethian." He stood a bit taller at the mention of his diety's name. 

Durgaden grumbled to Will, "Wonderful, not only a pansy eater, but a damn holy pansy eater." A bit louder so that the elf could hear, "Headed south?" 

"Aye, you as well?" The elf seemed hopeful, he hadn't had anyone to talk to in a long while and this group seemed on the up and up, at least he was not getting any negative feelings from them.

"Aye. We be headin' to me mines. The Mines of Tethyamar... could use a healer." To himself and Will, "Even if he munches on daisies and hugs trees."

"Wonderful. I accept." Amador started to stride forward when Tanerus walked past him. Amador started and looked back behind him where the halfling had come from. His saddle bags seemed undisturbed.

_"You should pay more attention."_ The halfling's voice seemed distant, but Amador was too startled by the whole thing to realize that the small creature had just spoken in his mind.

The party made camp a short while later, following directions by Amador on where a good nearby camping spot was. Amador used his healing powers on everyone, including the giant (much to Durgaden's chagrin).

"I swear to all that is short and holy, if you heal that damned giant one more time, I'm gonna take out your knees." To himself he continued, "Fool elf."

The next morning Will successfully dispelled the giant's blindness. He and Amador were both rewarded with gems. 

"Now be off with ye, before I take my axe to ya!" 

The giant looked down at Durgaden and smiled, _"Little dwarf, my blindness is cured. I have no more need of taking your insults, I shall be on my way, because I chose to be. You'd best think again before insulting me further. I have no quarrel with you, but if you make me angry I *will* kill you."_ 

The entire party bristled. Durgaden's mouth gaped open, disbelief at being spoken to so. Before he could say anything though, the giant turned its back and began to walk away to the north. Durgaden shook his head, and gruffed, "Eh... good riddance... giant. Sheesh."

Soon the party was on the road... a road that seemed to be getting more and more... cramped.



> The forest seems to swallow the road. A caravan could never make it through the brush that is growing over the road. The brush is green, but far too large to have naturally grown over the road. It’s passable, but only with a lot of work. Suddenly the path opens up into a small clearing. A large fallen tree blocks the road.  The tree is some five feet around and someone has stacked fallen brush in front of and on top the fallen tree. There is one break in the brush, and from behind it, you can see a something moving.




The party halted and the Tanerus went to scout ahead. As he moved forward he pulled his magic cloak out of his bag and slipped it around his shoulders, all but concealing him from view. He dodged up towards where the trees branches had landed, knowing it would be easier to scramble through there than up and over the massive trunk. 

On the other side of the tree he found a figure, laying on its stomach, covered in a huge volumous cloak. A gauntlet female hand was visible from one side. The figure moved as if hurt, moaning softly and trying to sit up again and again but failing to push itself up for long. 

Tanerus whispered, his sword out, just in case. "Are you okay? Do you need healing?" The figure spun quickly, faster than Tanerus was really ready for. She thrust out a hand crossbow, loaded with a bolt, pointed at him. Her silvery hair flowed from the hood of the cloak. Her black skin was marred with dried blood and dirt. Her spiderwebbed armor was dented and smashed with many holes all through it.

"Kinsith tilianoc?" Her language was foreign to Tanerus, and he really didn't relish the thought of being shot, so he leapt at her, trying to kick her wrist. His boot slammed into her wrist, the crossbow went off and Tanerus cried out as the bolt sunk into his thigh. She fell over from the attack, seeming to give way to her exhausted state. 

Tanerus cursed, lifted his blade to attack her, then slumped forward, victim to the poisonous bolt's effects. 

Hearing Tanerus's cry, Durgaden lept out of the brush and started toward the tree. Amador was quick behind him. Will however stayed back, eyes narrowing, glancing around, waiting for an ambush.

Durgaden lept up on the tree, saw the drow woman beneath him and Tanerus sprawled out in front of him. He jumped off the fallen tree, landing shield first on the drow woman. She offed and half came up at the attack, her eyes shot open, though little clarity was in them. Durgaden headbutted her for good measure. She slumped back into unconsciousness.

Amador quickly checked out Tanerus, and began chanting a spell. Tanerus' eyes fluttered open just as Will arrived. "Ow," the halfling muttered, holding onto his thigh. 

Seeing what they had the party quickly stripped the armor and weapons of the drow and tied her hands up. A quick minor heal spell from Amador and her eyes fluttered open.

"Who are you? And what are you doing here?" Will asked.

"Chinikallia forsoon. Tikala mitaka." 

"Do you speak common?" Will asked slower in common.

"Or elvish? Or ..."

"I... I speak your common." She frowned, obviously still in a lot of pain. "Just kill me and end it so I might be with my mistress."

"Lolth?" asked Durgaden, gripping his axe tightly.

"Of course... rockbiter." She hissed her words, sneering a bit to add to her own venom. 

Will intercepted, "What are you doing here? Who attacked you? Talk to me, we can help."

"You can not help. You are nothing compared to the power of this nightmare."

"What nightmare? Tell us something and we will -"

"Will what? Let me go? Right... I am already good as dead, so you can not threaten me with that. And when you are done with me, I will die anyways, so why should I tell you anything?"

The group could tell by the look in her eyes that she did not fear death, but welcomed it. Something had rattled the faith of this priestess, but they had no idea what.

"Just kill me and get it over with." Will started to say something, but Tanerus' blade slid through her ribs and found her heart.

Everyone looked at Tanerus. "She wasn't going to tell us anything. We can't take her with her, and we can't let her go. It was the only way."

Once again they laid the fallens gear out and Will cast a quick enchantment. Other than some empty potion bottles, the only thing she had that was still magical was her amulet. A spider shaped amulet with intricate web working, it looked silver at first, so Durgaden picked it up, placed it against the fallen tree and smashed it with his axe.

Or at least he tried to. The axe didn't even marr the surface. "This isn't silver." The axe blow had knocked some of the corrosion and dirt off. "Its mithril."

Will whistled. "She had a magic mithril holy symbol? How high up on the priest ladder was she?" Not having anyway to answer that the party decided to keep the amulet for now. Durgaden wrapped it in cloth, wrapped that in leather, then put the whole thing a bag which he then placed inside his magic backpack.

Tanerus looked around, "We should get out of here."

"Agreed."

Soon the forest was behind them and ahead of them....



> The track has been fairly hard to follow, but you think you have finally reached the outskirts of the ancient dwarven territories. A massive Menhir covered in ancient dwarven script, moss, and some large vines stands off to one side. The track splits at the Menhir, wagon ruts going east, south and west, though its not obvious which way they came from or went to. Just to the south of the Menhir, off to the side of the road is a half visible busted up wagon. From here it looks like an axle probably broke. Several crates lay broken behind the wreckage, barely visible from here.




The party looked around for any sort of ambush and Will sent his owl circling up to look for anyone around. When the owl returned with an all clear the party moved forward to investigate. Durgaden stomped to lead at the urging of the party, to 'check it out'. He started kicking aside the wreckage.

"I don't see anything here but some old hard tack and some-"

A ball of fire erupted from in front of Durgaden and engulfed the party. Durgaden screamed in anger and pain, Will doubled over and stumbled back. Amador threw up his shield and was a little less burned than the others. Tanerus managed to duck behind Amador and peaked out, unharmed.

"- cloth." Durgaden looked down at the now over burning wreckage and grumbled, "Send the dwarf forward." He retreated to where Amador was patching himself and Will up. Soon everyone was healed.

Will frowned, "That had to be meant as a warning sign, someone doesn't want to be surprised by us coming to visit them."

Tanerus fidgeted a bit, "We need to get out of here. That blast will call attention to us quickly." Everyone agreed and the party hightailed it out of there. Well as fast they could... Durgaden's mule had perished in the blast. 

As they walked the party began discussing things they knew so far. "Okay so we know that there is someone at the mines. Someone who has apparently allied themselves with a demon tainted sorceress." 

Will was trying to put pieces together. "These same people seem willing to both work with monsters, and to take them out. They worked with the ogre outside the city, but were attacking the giant.

"Someone who is powerful enough to set a fairly hefty fireball trap. We also have a mostly dead fairly powerful drow priestess of Lolth in the area, without her guard. Priestess of that power never travel alone. So what hurt her so bad, caused her to use up all her magic, and left her with no entourage?

"Add to that they seem prepared, with traps and ambushes." Will scratched his chin a bit. "Something is definately going on around here."

Tanerus added, "Don't forget the fresh wagon ruts. They can't be very old. So someone has been using these roads, and fairly recently."

"Sounds like someone is trying to mine me mines! We need to get a move out, no one can have me ore!" Durgaden quickened his pace. For a dwarf he had incredible stride and seemed to nearly leap with each step.




> The rocks and sandy hills that have cropped up since the menhir finally break to show a rocky, sandy bluff. The bluff stretches as far as you can see to north and the south. At the base of the bluff is the ancient desert, Aunuroch. The track skirts the edge of the bluff, heading south along the top edge. A tumble off to the right would probably be fatal with the pitch of the slope.
> 
> Further to the south you can see an area that opens up. The track passes through it and to the base of a large rocky cliff face. The open area is dotted with ruins. Half walls, bits of masonry, corners of long collapses buildings, toppled columns, and a single standing ancient structure mark the remnants of what must have been the surface dwellings of the ancient dwarven city of Tethyamar. Tents and other semi temporary shacks and structures have been setup at the far east side of the city, against the cliff face and on either side of the track. Another set of tents is set up along the southern cliff edge.
> 
> At the base of the cliff, the track goes up a large sloping ramp and then disappears into a massive gaping hole in the cliff.




The party stayed perched at the edge of the city, taking it all in. No one could easily control all of the ruins of such a large area. They looked a bit closer at the larger tent grouping. A single flag flew over one of the large tents. The flag of the Zhentarim.


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## Wraithdrit (Mar 10, 2003)

*Session 2 (Cont)*

The party had found a good spot to camp on the northern edge of the city, up in the rough rocky hills. They sent Tanerus off to scout, and settled in for a long chilly spring evening with no fire.

Tanerus perched at the edge of a tall cliff looking down at the city. Torches surrounded the Zhentarim camp, and guards where posted and patrolling. The other camp was much harder to see from here, and had many fewer torches lit. The halfling switched his attention back to the main camp and saw several riders cut out from the camp at a hard ride. He watched as they took the main path through the city, and eventually dissappeared to the north along the caravan track.

Ensuring that his magic ring was snuggly in place, Tanerus pulled forth his magic cloak and lept from the cliffs edge. The rings make took hold of him and he glided safely to the ground. Donning his cloak, he pulled the hood up and snuck toward the main camp. 

He stopped well outside of the torch light, hidden from view by a fallen wall. Studying the camp, he noticed that what seemed like a large cave opening from a distance was more like the entrance to a fortress. Massive stone bulwarks stuck out of the rock and an iron portcullis barred the entrance. Having seen enough, he made his way toward the center of the city. He paused there to examine the central structure.



> The center of the city is dominated by the one structure left standing.  A huge domed roof caps a large structure that seems to have once been covered in intricate carvings. The sands of the desert have blasted those carvings into little more than odd wavy shapes all over the building surface. Two massive stone double doors are set in the western most wall of the building, one pulled open about three feet with several spikes jammed in on either side of the door to keep it wedged open. A large mirror is set up outside the door, angled to point light into the massive chamber beyond.




Tanerus made mental notes of it all and proceeded toward the smaller southern camp. His cloak, size and skill kept him easily out of sight as he snuck up to the largest of the tents. The small camp was composed of a large tent, several smaller tents and a small lean-to like structure against the cliff. From here, Tanerus was able to make out digging tools. He also noticed that the structure against the cliff hid a set of stairs and an opening into the cliff side. Perhaps it is an alternate entrance to the mines, thought the halfling. 

Sneaking back out of the camp, Tanerus made a mental note of a change of guards, and the rather regular interval that a messenger left out of the smaller camp, headed for the larger camp. He also made note that these where not Zhentarim. The guards here were foreigners mostly, hired mercenaries it would seem, not the regimental soldiers of the Zhentarim regulars.

He quickly made his way back to camp and relayed what he had seen. Everyone settled in for the night, knowing that being rested was probably best for everyone. 

Unfortunately, the night was not done with them. A few hours after the moon hit its peak Will's owl came back into camp, landing atop Will and hopping up and down, screeching about something. Will's alarm spell had not gone off, so he woke groggily and listened to what the bird had to say. The rest of the camp stirred at the noise.

Will broke the news as he rushed to grab his things. "Something is flying a patrol over the city, we need to find cover!" The party gathered its things quickly and set to searching for good overhangs. Will and Tanerus quickly found a pair of overhangs the entire party and thier mounts could squeeze under. Not long passed till they saw a massive batwinged shadow slide across the ground where they had been camping. 

Peaking from beneath their hiding spots they could make out the form of some sort of massive bat. The darkness made it difficult to see many details, but soon enough the creature had finished its patrol and dissappeared into the Zhentarim camp. The party settled in for a the rest of the evening.

Morning brought renewed hope and strength, and the party made their way into the city. Massive ruins and mounds of rubble made it easy for them to slip through the city unnoticed. They had decided to make their way toward the central building first. Assuming things went well there, they planned to continue to the smaller camp. A quick suprise attack there, should ensure them victory and give them time to set up before worrying about the main force. 

But first the massive central building was to be searched. They carefully made their way to the building and Tanerus slipped inside after examining the entrance.



> The floor of this massive building is covered in ancient rocks, rubble and sand. Large cracks and holes in the walls expose the inside to the ravages of time. The sand and debris has been cleared away from immediately in front of the door, leading along a meandering path across ancient marbled stone to a massive dias in the center of the room. Atop the dias is a stand of some sort, emptied of whatever it held.
> 
> Around the edge of the dias lay scattered bones as well as a pair of corpses. The corpses seem to have been left where they fell, probably a few weeks prior. One corpse is clad in brown leathers and clothes, his skin is sunken in on his hands, his head is crushed completely in from the front. In one hand he holds a small wooden handled trowel, the other hand is clasped around a length of leather string. The second corpse is draped half over the first steps of the dias. Black armor clad over the scorched remains of what was once a human, and now is nothing more than burnt bones. The stone around him is marred by heat or flame,
> 
> ...




Tanerus carefully made his way up to the center of the room, careful not to touch anything. He examined the bodies and tried in vane to read the script on the edge of the dias. Unable to make out the writing, he searched the area of the overturned table. A smashed inkwell seemed to be the cause of the black mark, so Tanerus looked for anything else that might have been lost when the table was overturned. Soon his search revealed a piece of parchment that had slipped to between a couple of pieces of rubble. He could not read it either.

The rest of the party made their way in, stopping in various spots between the door and the altar.

"Will, I can't read this... see what you make of it." Tanerus handed the sheet over to the invoker. 

"I can't either..." A quick incantation later, "ah... its Thayan... seems to be a journal entry. It talks of the Axe of Tethyamar... and about a master Lurthkaus. The writer seems to be working for Lurthkhaus, and Lurthkhaus seems to be working for the Zhentarim. Talks about the Zhentarim needing to be patient. Says the axe will be able to be taken from dias safely in a day or so. Something about this temple having been shielded and guarded."

Will strode up toward the dias, not stepping on the steps. He leaned forward to read the dwarven script. "These talk of the Axe of Tethyamar being a symbol of peace, created to protect the city. It goes on to say that this temple is warded and guarded from intrusion from the outside."

"Must be why it is still standing. Guess these guys got through the wards." Durgaden didn't saying it. He hated the thought of someone getting through ancient dwarven protections.

Will continued, "It also says there is a guardian of the axe."

Amador nodded down at the corpses, "Obviously." 

Will nodded and looked down at the one clear stone in the floor. Tanerus nodded and said, "There is some sort of trapdoor there, but I could see no way to open it." 

Will nodded and began another quick spell. "There is an opening there alright... and..." He swung to look at the dias. "There is one there too." 

Durgaden grinned, the axe may have been taken but the thieves may have missed something. He took a step forward then thought better of it, letting the rogue and wizard continue thier examinations.

Will continued, "To open this door..." He pointed at the cleared slab in the floor, "Something has to happen over there." He pointed now to the dias. He started concentrating on the dias and said, "The dias has an opening, a... secret compartment, in the top." Will stood right in front of the cleared slab of the floor, facing away from it, toward the dias.

Tanerus nodded, "I noticed the stand where the axe was sitting, its not a part of the dias, it is just set on top, perhaps we can move it..." Tanerus stepped up onto the first step around the dias.

The moment Tanerus' foot touched the step it sunk a very slight bit into the floor. The massive stone slab behind Will pivoted upward and a huge figure made of stone, iron, and wood stood to its full eight to ten foot hieght. Beneath the slab was nothing but a five foot by five foot holding cell. The construct seemd to stretch as it stood to its full height. Tanerus gulped, "Uh oh."

Will spun about, caught of guard by the constructions entry. Durgaden leapt up onto the altar and called out in dwarven, "Cease in the name of the dwarves of Tethyamar!" Amador whispered a quick prayer to Corellian, blessing his friends in case their should be combat.

Will reacted quickly, throwing up a quick defensive shield spell. None of it seemed to phase the Guardian. It leaned toward Will and swung at him with his massive iron hands. 

The first blow struck straight through the magic shield and hit Will in the gut. Will doubled over in pain, spitting up blood. The second blow hit Will in the shoulder, sending him stumbling upright, his arm hanging at an unnatural angle. The construct was not done with the invoker yet though. Its third hit was a bankhand to the side of the wizard's head, whipping his neck around and sending the wizard sprawling through the air. 

He skid to a stop at Amador's feet, a pool of blood starting to form around him. The crumbled wizard looked dead, the side of his head was cracked open, his arm was broken with an obvious compound fracture, several ribs were probably broken, and blood poured from his mouth.


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## Wraithdrit (Mar 10, 2003)

*Next game day, etc.*

Well that concludes the Session 1 and 2 logs. We are getting together Wednesday Night for Session 3. 

Will Amador be in time to save Will? Is it already too late (I gave Will his damage written on a slip of paper, so as not to let anyone know how bad it was)? Will the party be able to defeat the Guardian? Who is in the smaller camp? And who is Lurkhaus? Whats left of the mines? And can the party run the Zhentarim out?

Find out starting Thursday morning. Until then, I do ask that if you have taken the time read through all these logs, please do me the favor writing something, anything, criticism or praise. Both are welcome. Just let me know you are reading, or I will think I'm just wasting my time. 

Thanks,
Wraith


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## Gilgalad (Mar 11, 2003)

Tell us more, Tell us more, Tell us more 

I especially want to hear more about that noble and heroic Dwarf, Durgaden Alepounder.  He sounds SOOOOO impressive  Obviously the one carrying the entire party on his shoulders 

Obviously everyone, I'm biased here, given that I AM Durgaden Alepounder <grins evilly>.  Just thought I'd say hi to everyone after taking a bloody hour to read all this.  If you think our DM is long winded here, you should see him in game during a good role play event  <j/k>

We're just getting started, but I'm sure the stories will get more eventful and gruesome as we move into the meat of the adventure.  Stay tuned, assuming we survive this next encounter, there's sure to be more to come


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## Wraithdrit (Mar 11, 2003)

Wraith takes a break from his preparations for the next game session to see Durgaden's post. 

Good to see you here. Hopefully then if anyone has any real questions on the game, you can give them a player's perspective. =) Well I have more devious encounters to plot out. 

I am SOOO looking forward to this session.

- Wraith


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## Wraithdrit (Mar 11, 2003)

Also of note. We had to reengineer Tanerus' character. In his initial make up he was supposed to be fighter rogue of near equal levels. His player and I decided to push him much more rogue and ended up forgetting that Ghostwise halflings favored class is barbarian.  

This would have left him with the age old experience penalty if not fixed, so I allowed him to shift all of his fighter class levels into rogue, making him now an 8th level rogue. Not a major adjustment on many things. Just brings him in line with the rules and prevents him from being left behind in XP. 

I normally allow character edits in the first few game sessions, since you never know how the character you end up roleplaying will feel a lot different than you intended. From this session forward though, I don't foresee anyone wanting to change what they have.

Well, back to writing the adventure I go.  

- Wraith


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## sparhawk (Mar 11, 2003)

Wraith.

 Do not be discouraged if you do not get a lot of posts just check out read count. There are a lot of lurckers in the story hours and alot of us just prefere to read and not post.
 Keep giving us some updates and we will keep reading.


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## Wraithdrit (Mar 11, 2003)

Lurkers... I wonder if anyone has ever written up a stat block for em. Probably have impossibly high ACs and evasion, and so forth.  

Though when finally made to come out of hiding, they usually are dead on accurate, then run into hiding again.  

Heh, I'll keep writing. Thanks for the post sparhawk hope you are enjoying the story so far.

Back to writing the adventure I go.

- Wraith


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## Wraithdrit (Mar 13, 2003)

*Session 3*

*Eleint 26th, 1372 - Temple of the Axe, Tethyamar Ruins, just after dawn*

Will skid to a stop at Amador's feet, a pool of blood starting to form around him. The crumbled wizard looked dead, the side of his head was cracked open, his arm was broken with an obvious compound fracture, several ribs were probably broken, and blood poured from his mouth.

Darkness... utter darkness. Will opened his eyes, and could not move. Light appeared before him. A fairly dim light, and behind it, a figure that slowly came into focus, a drow woman. It was the woman they had found in the woods. 

"Well, well... I knew one of you would be joining me soon enough, but I had no idea it would be this soon..." She practically purred the words, as if enjoying them very much.

"Joining you? I see." Will still could not move, save to move his eyes and mouth.

"So what was it? Trap? Undead? Drow?"

"Stone construct."

She smiled, "A golem?"

"Aye. Something like that."

"I'm so pleased." 

"I'm sure." Will swallowed. "Well since it doesn't matter now, would you mind telling me who it was that nearly killed you?"

She cocked her head to one side. "I do not suppose it would hurt. It was-"

Will's body convulsed as Amador's healing magic coursed through him. He gasped for air and his eyes flew open to see Amador drawing back his hands, a prayer slipping from his lips. 

Durgaden leapt from the dias and charged the massive construct. He slammed his axe into the thing's chest, splitting the massive iron plate and rocking the construct back a bit. Tanerus continued to circle.

Will shook his head and stumbled to his feet. He coughed, "Don't kill it! Parry!" He ran toward the dias. Amador looked confused glancing between Will and the construct. 

Durgaden growled, "What would you have me do? Pour it an ale and tell it fireside tales?" He ducked as it swung at him over and over. Shots rained between the two mighty opponents. Durgaden's axe bit into the construct over and over. Most of the constructs blows deflected off of Durgaden's armor or shield, but Durgaden was starting to feel his arm go numb and realized he could taste blood on his lips. 

Amador slipped to behind the dwarf and whispered a soft chant, grabbing his holy symbol. His hands glowed and with a touch, Durgaden's wounds started to mend. 

Tanerus leapt atop the open trap door, perching nimbly behind the construct. He studied the thing's back, and not finding any soft spots began to chip away at it. His blows seemed to have little effect, finding no good holes in the armor.

Meanwhile, Will tossed aside the axe stand and looked in horror at the compartment that was hidden beneath, it was sealed with some sort of resin. One stab with his dagger got him nowhere so he laid it aside and conjured an acidic arrow, slamming it into the resin. The acid bubbled and the resin started to burn away. 

Will glanced over his shoulder at the fight, "I might be able to shut it down, don't kill it!"

Durgaden was starting to get the upper hand, dispite the fact that the construct seemed to be magically healing itself slowly over time. "I'll shut it down for ye!" Again and again he slammed his axe into the thing.

Frantic, Will shot a second acidic arrow into the resin, burning away the last of it. Durgaden slammed his axe in again and the construct fell forward, slumping to the ground. "It's shut off!"

Will looked over, he was too late. They had already managed to stop the Shield Guardian. He knew that the dias probably held the Guardian's amulet. If he had gotten to it sooner he could have controlled the thing. He sighed.

With a whir and a clunk the Guardian stood back up. Durgaden yelped and ducked aside as the Guardian slammed the ground where he had been standing with both mighty fists. Will spun and snatched the stone plug from the dias, ignoring the acid burning his hand. He prayed that the amulet was within and not some sort of trap. He shoved his hand inside, grasped whatever was within and pulled it out.

"I said stay down!" Durgaden slammed the thing with his axe twice more. 

As Will spun, a glowing amulet in his hand, he yelled out in both Dwarven and human, "I command you to stop!"

The Shield Guardian swayed, then toppled, falling into several pieces. Will stared at the thing. His gaze went from the amulet to the construct to his companions. 

Durgaden looked pleased. "Its alright Will, we got it to stop."

Will sputtered, "We could have had a Shield Guardian!" 

Durgaden blinked and looked between the construct and Will, "You mean we coulda had it as a pet?" 

"Yes!"

"Oh." Durgaden shrugged. Will sighed and slump to a seat on the dias. Amador and Tanerus poked at the guardian pieces looking to see if there was anything else there. 

After a few moments Tanerus walked over and clapped Will on the shoulder, "Eh, we couldn't have done much sneaking around with that thing with us anyways." Will looked at him, shook his head and stood up. 

Amador walked over to Durgaden and began healing his wounds. Tanerus trotted over to the door, glancing outside to make sure no one had heard them. 

Will was the next to receive healing. After Will's wounds were mended Amador said, "We need to consider whether we have the energy left to take on a camp now or if we need to rest."

Durgaden growled, "I be ready, but nightfall may be a better time." It was not even noon yet, that gave them at least eight hours before darkness fell.

Tanerus nodded, "They will have less men awake at night."

Will nodded, "I can always use the time to study." He still held the amulet in his hand. He glanced down at it and noticed it was glowing. 

Amador nodded, "I could use the prayer time, my energy is waning from all the heals I have performed."

Will looked to the pieces of the guardian and then to the amulet. The guardian was obviously no more, but the amulet still glowed. Interesting, he thought. A quick detect magic confirmed that the amulet still held power. He resolved to identify it after he rested. 

The group rested for a few hours, Durgaden and Tanerus caught alternating naps, and Will and Amador slept the whole time through. After resting Will pulled out a pearl, crushed it and cast his identify. He called over to Durgaden, "Let me see the amulet you got from the drow priestess." Durgaden pulled out the drow holy symbol and passed it over. 

An hour later Will rejoined the group, handing the drow holy symbol to Durgaden. Will wore the Shield Guardian's amulet around his neck, he had found that it still held protective powers, even without the Shield Guardian's presence, a minor consolation, considering.

"We need to discuss what to do with that thing." Will pointed to the drow holy symbol. 

"Melt it down, its mithral." Durgaden was pretty straight forward with his idea.

"Yes, its also a direct link to Lolth, if you wear it, you might even become a drider, it has several other enchantments, only a few of which are beneficial," said Will

Tanerus frowned, "Direct link to Lolth? Anyone else dream of spiders while resting?" The little halfling frowned, not liking what he had dreamt obviously. There were a few nods in agreement.  "We need to get rid of it."

Durgaden dangled the thing, pointed to it and just said again, "Mithral." He seemed unwilling to part with it.

Exasperated, Tanerus said, "Its a direct link to Lolth!"

Durgaden shook the amulet, "Mithral!" He bound it up, pulled out a pair of holy symbols to Clangeddin, wrapped both around either side of the amulet and wrapped the whole bundle even more, "We will melt it down when we can."

Tanerus threw up his hands, "Fine! But I disavow any possession of that thing. Its yours now!"

Amador swallowed, "Durgaden is right, it must be destroyed."

Tanerus shook his head, "I say put it where the Shield Guardian's amulet was, plug the hole and be done with it!"

Amador frowned, "Someone else good find it."

Tanerus shrugged, "That someone wouldn't be us!"

Durgaden stored the bundle deep in his magic pack, "It'll be fine there till we find a way to destoy it. Sooner rather than later, me hopes."

Will watched this exchange, deciding not to get into the middle of it. He told them most of the important details about the drow amulet. To tell them of the serious protective magics it would bestow upon a wearer, or the fact that it gave potent spellcasting benefits would only add to any temptation. Durgaden was insistant on melting it down, little point in getting in the middle of it. 

Finally Will spoke up, "Well, shall we get going to the smaller camp? It seems dark enough out there now." He stood and grabbed his things, as did the rest of the group.

And so with that, they slipped out of the single standing structure of the City of Tethyamar. Back out into the ruins they strode, into the night, and toward the smaller of the two encampments. Torches began to be lit in both camps. Night was upon Tethyamar but the adventures where just beginning.


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## Wraithdrit (Mar 13, 2003)

*Session 3 (Cont)*

The plan had been set. These men worked for the Zhentarim. They were in league with the men who had attacked them twice already. This would be decisive and final. Once the smaller camp was destroyed, the large camp could be taken care of in due course, then the mines would soon be freed. Or at least, that was the plan.

Tanerus slipped quietly forward, inching quietly closer and closer to the camp.



> A single massive tent sits near the base of the cliff, surrounded by several smaller tents lined up on either side. A lean-to is set against the base of the cliff, covering a set of steps leading down to an opening in the cliff face. A large open sided pavilion sits beside the lean to, covering several crates and a large table with benches on either side. A cook fire sits in the middle of the camp. Outside the area of tents sits a wagon and a small pen for horses.
> 
> A man sits beneath the pavilion, his legs stretched out along the bench he sits on, his back propped up against a stack of crates. He is flipping through a small book, frowning as if concentrating on what is within its pages. He wears a set of leather armor, and has a rapier lying on the table beside him.
> 
> ...




Tanerus watched the guards then slipped up behind the first of the small tents. He wiggled beneath the outside wall of the tent to find two guards sleeping. They would never reawaken. His work done he went to the next tent, and the next one. Each time he would wait and watch. The savage little ghostwise halfling was pragmatic to say the least. It was what had to be done. They would only cause trouble when his companions arrived.

The last of the sleeping guards dead, Tanerus crouched beside a supply tent and dropped a shiny copper coin to the ground a few feet out and away from the camp. Will's owl, circling overhead, saw the signal and relayed to Will that it was time. Will, Amador, and Durgaden began jogging forward quietly, closer and closer. 

The guard beneath the pavillion stood, "I'm gonna go get some jerky, you want some?"

The guard by the fire nodded, "Sure." 

The first guard looked at the tent Tanerus was hiding behind, then turned and walked toward the other supply tent, after all, it was closer. 

Tanerus' companions grew closer and closer. They would be here soon. Tanerus waited, then moved up next to the largest tent, hiding in the shadows there.

He gazed at the man beside the fire, raised the drow hand crossbow and let loose. The bolt buried itself in the man's neck, he fell gurling to the ground, just as his friend returned with the jerky.

A pair of arrows whizzed out of the darkness, embedding in the first of the female guards on patrol. She screamed out in pain. More arrows followed. Durgaden began to run toward the camp, Amador loosed arrow after arrow and Will stopped and began to cast. Another arrow embedded in the first female guards chest and she fell to the ground.

Tanerus dropped the hand crossbow, drew a dagger, flipped it up into the air, caught it by the blade then flung it at the returning guard. It tumbled end over end and buried in the man's chest. He dropped the jerky, stumbled back, fell to knees, then fell forward. 

Will's spell complete, tentacles sprang to life in and around the large tent. Shrieks came from in the tent, frantic spellcasting could be heard within. The remaining female guard pulled out her sword, terrified at the tentacles appearing around her. A pair of arrows sunk deep into her chest and she was dead before she hit the ground.

Durgaden ran to the mine entrance. Staring in, he saw no one. He looked back at the large tent and frowned. He did not like the mines being open like that. If anymore were inside they might have heard the screams. No time to really consider for long though, the dwarf turned toward the massive tent.

Mere moments after the tentacles appeared, they began to writhe, about to start their search for prey when they stopped in midsway, turned brittle and dissolved into nothingness. The spell had been dispelled.

Tanerus slipped toward the front of the tent, hearing multiple voices within casting spells. Durgaden let out a bellow and charged toward the side of the tent. He slammed one of the support poles with his shield, snapping it. The corner of the tent started to buckle. 

Amador ran forward, and kicked another one of the supports out from the tent. Will jogged up and around toward the back side of the tent, keeping his distance.

Tanerus rolled into the tent, coming up with his sword in his hand. The tent was empty. "What the....?" He called over his shoulder, "The tent is empty!" He started to relax his stance when a  woman reappeared on one corner of the tent, a wand in her hands.

Flames jutted forth from the wand, and Tanerus barely managed to dodge out of the way. Tanerus' companions saw a 5 foot wide jet of flame shoot 30 ft out from the tent opening. Will shook his head, "Dispel my tentacles will you?" He set his feet and threw his hands up. Arcane words slipped from his mind and past his lips, energy crackled around his hands and a massive horizontal column of electrical energy ripped off most of the top half of the tent.

Inside Tanerus stayed crouched down, his head covered as lightning coursed overhead. The woman with the wand screamed as the upper half of her body dissentegrated in the energy of the lightning bolt. Her lower half collapse to the ground with a sickening thud.

Tanerus was back on his feet when a second spellcaster reappeared, this one an older looking man. He was burnt from the lightning, but very much alive, his own hands moving quickly in arcane gestures. He pointed at the halfling and Tanerus cried out as his muscles seized and locked up. He fell to the ground, unable to move. 

Tanerus' voice echoed in all the companion's heads, "Help! I can't move!" A man in full plate armor appeared in the tent next, grabbing up the halfling. 

The spellcaster cried out, "Hold! Or the halfling dies!"

Durgaden would have none of it. He leapt over what remained of the tent wall and buried his axe in the man's back. "Let him go!" The warrior stumbled away from the dwarf trying to turn away. Will frantically tried to dispel the Hold on Tanerus, but the spell was just too powerful. Amador leapt over the tent side as well and sliced at the wizard standing there. He managed to cut him, but not nearly as deep as he should have.

The warrior who had Tanerus tried getting away from Durgaden, but the confines of the tent made escape impossible. He turned, trying to put the halfling between himself and the raging dwarf. Durgaden was ready though and came in high against the warrior, well over the halfling's height. The warrior's head fell to the ground, followed by the rest of his body, and the halfling.

A fourth figure appeared within the tent, this one a female in full plate armor as well. She held a morningstar and called upon divine energy and pointed at Durgaden. Like Tanerus, his muscles seized up, and Durgaden collapsed to the floor.

Will threw his hands forward and glowing orbs spiralled into the mage in the tent. As the orbs struck home, the mage and his cleric companion were both seen to grimace in pain. Amador called out, "She has him shielded!" Before either could get off another spell Amador called on Corellian's winds to mute the sounds within the tent. A bubble of silence formed around the tent's interior. 

The mage stumbled back from the angry elven cleric and drank a potion. Will was not done yet though, his arcane voice heard outside the bubble, he threw up his hands and giant strands of sticky webs grew from them, draping themselves over everything in front of Amador in the tent. The elf stumbled back from the web, pulled his bow and started shooting arrows in at the wizard who was well stuck within the webbing. The priestess ripped herself free of the web, and drank a potion. Will strode forward, shaking his head.

At this range, with the wizard stuck in the web, he was a sitting duck for Amador's arrows. One after another struck home, and the wizard slumped forward, not moving. The priestess lept from the ground, her potion of flying sending her upward. She tried to rip through the webbing, but it was no use, she became as entangled as a fly in a spider's web. Amador turned his bow on her. Two arrows later she slumped, dangling, stuck in the web, blood dripping from her soon to be cooling corpse.

Will stepped up, dispelled the web and pulled out a knife. He walked up to the wizard, helping Amador up as he went. He plunged the knife in the wizards chest, twisted and repeated the process for the priestess. 

Tanerus and Durgaden both gasped as their muscles loosened. Tanerus said quickly, "We need to get out of here. The sooner we are gone the better." The companions started cleaning up the mess. A large tarp was found to throw over the top of the old tent structure. This would hopefully hide the destruction for a little while from the giant bat that patrolled the skys. 

Will entoned a detection for magic and the party quickly stripped everything they could. Besides the magic of their fallen foes, the companions found a pair of maps and some notes written by the female mage they had slain. Tanerus slipped out to await the return of the runner the camp had sent out earlier. He would be returning from the larger camp soon, and he needed to be silenced before he ever made it back.

The companions assumed they would have about two to three hours before the large camp would be due another message. The contents of the notes and the map, convinced them to head into the mines...


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## Amador (Mar 14, 2003)

*Hey what happened to my attack on the constuct*

Peace be with all.

I just have one question.  What happened to my attack on the construct?  I did a little damage. 

Whoops went out of character there!

This has been a fun campaign so far.  I have been out of the gaming realm for almost 8 years.  This is the first time I have adventured in 3ed.  I am not up to speed on everything yet but it is slowly coming back.

Peace Be WIth Everyone


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## Wraithdrit (Mar 14, 2003)

Heh. Needless to say, I don't have tape recorders running during game sessions, so will not always get every blow or spell cast in the right order. Most of this is reconstructed from memory, recalling what stuck out for me behind the DM screen. So don't feel bad. Its like watching the movie for a good book. It can be good in its own right, without being exactly the same as the book.

- Wraith


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## Amador (Mar 17, 2003)

I am just interested in when we will see the rest of the last session.  And I can't wait for the next.


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## Wraithdrit (Mar 17, 2003)

Last of session 3 should be up today (hopefully). Next game session will be next week at some point. I will let everyone know as soon as I do when it will be.

- Wraith


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## Wraithdrit (Mar 17, 2003)

The party quickly regrouped, set off into the mines. They had significant notes taken by the female wizard they had slain mere moments earlier. It seems that these were indeed Thayans, and that they had been disguised. The head of the camp, Lurthkaus, was a true Red Wizard of Thay, and all the rest of the camp, his followers. They were apparently here looking for some sort of book. According to the notes, the Zhentarim did not know their true identity, and the Thayan henchmen, were beginning to chafe under the charade of serving the Zhents.

Into the mines the group crept. This was obviously not a true mine, but rather some sort of underground dwarven structure. A great battle had taken place here, a battle between dwarven defenders and the evil horde that overrun Tethyamar hundreds of years ago. Corpses were everywhere. Ancient dwarven skeletons mixed with ancient goblin and orc bones. Some bones were not even recognizeable. 

The party followed the Thayan notes, and used the map to quickly locate a room they thought might have a secret door. Sure enough two such doors were found and the party slipped through one. The other side was a room filled with trash and junk. A voice chirped in the darkness as the party poked through the junk. "Hey, leave that alone."

Will quirked an eyebrow, "Who's there?"

"Me," chirped the voice.

Durgaden growled, "Whose me?"

"Ugh, not a dwarf... go away. Go home."

"This is me home!"

"Not no more. This me home now." Tanerus bent to pick up some dirt in one hand. 

"Can you tell us anything about this area?" asked Amador. 

"Yes, I suppose, if you will leave me home." 

"We will leave. If you tell us more. Have you seen people around here?" Will asked.

"Yes, seen people. Many people. Even seen a dark skinned elf. She was nice. Mulgup helped her get out past humans. Was much fun!"

Will and Amador glanced at each other. That explained how the drow had fled past the Thayans. The Thayan journal had made mention of them having found the signs of someone gravely wounded moving through, but they were unsure how the person got through. The party had assumed it was the drow priestess they had met in the woods. Now they knew were she had come from, but not what had hurt her so bad, or why she had not healed herself. 

Tanerus said, "You saw her in the kitchen?" Thats where the notes said the tracks of the wounded person had seemed to originate. 

"Yes, Mulgup saw her in kitchen."

"Will you take us there? We will pay you." Tanerus pulled a gem from his pouch at his side. 

"Ooooh. Pretty... yes... we show." As Tanerus felt something pulling the gem from his hand he tossed the handfull of dirt at it. The creature coughed and gagged then appeared suddenly as if losing its concentration on whatever magic made it invisible.



> A small misshapen creature, stooped over, not a single hair on his head, with massive pointed ears sticking out to either side. His visage is somewhat goblin like, but this is definitely no goblin. His arms are longer than his legs, and dangle towards the ground. Soot and grime blacken everything about him. Not a single spot of the miserable creature seems untouched by the mess.
> 
> His back is hunched, and he has a scrap of an ancient suit of dwarven mail draped over his shoulders, dangling down his back. On the front the mail slides down his shoulders, and seems to be riveted in place, attached to the creature’s very bones. Ancient bracers are on his wrists, his skin seeming to have grown up around the edge of the bracers. His feet are clad in dingy strips of leather, wrapped again and again around his feet, then up around his ankles. He wears an ancient tattered pair of pants, an old belt with an ancient dwarven knife stuck in his belt. The bones of his fingers are ridged, with odd shapes on each finger, by the looks of it, rings the creature has scavenged and have been worn so long his flesh and the grime have all but buried them.




The party looked on, wondering what the little thing was. Finally Will spoke up, "You will take us to the kitchen?" 

"Yes, to kitchen." The creature known as Mulgup proceeded the way leading them to a room that looked much like a kitchen.

Durgaden looked around, "She musta come from a secret door..." 

Mulgup shook his head, "Nope she come from back there." He pointed back the way the party had just come from. They had passed two doors on the way. 

Will frowned. "Show us." The group backtrapped, "This door?"

"No that door have creepies in it, don't go in there." Mulgup shuddered. 

"What kind of creepies?" Durgaden lifted his axe. "How many legs they got?"

Mulgup tried to count on his fingers, but kept getting lost after three. "One... two... three.... five... no wait... one ... two... three... nine..." Finally, "Um, many."

Amador frowned, "Spiders." 

Mulgup nodded exictedly, "Yes! Creepy things. But she come out of here." Mulgup pointed at a different door.

Tanerus stepped up, "Whats in there Mulgup?"

The dark color almost drained from Mulgup's face, and his ears drooped. "The great hall..." He whispered, looking frightened. "Lots of bad mojo."


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## Wraithdrit (Mar 25, 2003)

*Just a quick update...*

Just a quick update to let the readers know why there has been a delay. Will's player started his new job a couple weeks ago, and just as his schedule evened out, Tanerus' player was sent out of town for a week. So this weekend Tanerus is back in town, and I'm hoping to play either this weekend or early in the week (Mondayish). I will post something the day after the game session.

On another note, is anyone interested in reading just straight fantasy fiction as well? If so, drop me a line and I will post a link to it.

- Wraith


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## Wraithdrit (Mar 31, 2003)

*Session tonight!*

Finally the game gets back underway tonight. Update here in the morning! Woot!

I am soooo jonesing to play tonight it ain't even funny.

- Wraith


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## Wraithdrit (Apr 1, 2003)

*Session 4*

*Eleint 26th, 1372 - Inside the Mines of Tethyamar, just before midnight*

Durgaden grunted and nodded toward the door, "So lets go through."

Mulgup looked aghast. "Yous guys crazy!" He backed up a couple of steps. "Baaad mojo."

Will smirked, "What kind of bad mojo?"

"Yous know. Crushy things. Smashy things... Bad mojo!" Mulgup hopped from one foot to the other.

Tanerus hrmed softly and said, "Traps?"

Mulgup threw his arms up, "Yes! Bad mojo! Yous crazy." With a soft popping noise, Mulgup dissappeared. Will rested his hands on his pouches, just in case.

"We need to be careful. The Zhents are going to know something is up soon," said Will.

Amador nodded, "I think we have about an hour before they know, maybe more."

Durgaden growled, "Lets go check out the box then. We can explore all this afterwards." The notes they had recovered referenced a stone box in an audience chamber. The Thayans had not opened it yet, according to the notes. They suspected it contained a magic gem of some sort.

Everyone agreed and the party slipped through chamber after chamber, witnessing the remains of many an orc and dwarf. Long ago a great battle had taken place here. 

Just outside the audience chamber Will and Tanerus stopped and looked around. Seeing them glance around the other two nodded as well. The chamber was oddly shaped for an entry chamber, it was too long. The group fanned out and quickly found a pair of secret doors leading out to the north and south.

Will paused, "We should check out the box first still."

Amador nodded and Tanerus slid opened the doors to the audience chamber. A massive firepit was in the middle of the room. Benches lined the north and south walls. On the east side of the room, opposite the door, set away from the wall a bit, was a large stone table on which sat a large granite box.

Tanerus slipped forward to the box and Durgaden settled in behind the raised firepit to watch. Amador and Will flanked the doorway outside the room. They alternately watched the room and the set of doors behind them. 

On the other side of the fire pit Tanerus discovered the remains of three orcs. The box itself had obviously not been opened in a long time, deposits of minerals on the hinges and lock attested to that. The halfling slipped out his tools and began to probe the box. He knew it was trapped, the question was how. 

Soon he discovered that it was the lock that was trapped. He saw too many mounts holding it in place. Two must conceal something, like a needle trap. He quickly set small metal plates in place to block any thing from flying from them. Confident the lock was disarmed he slid out his picks. Tumblers clicked quickly beneath his able hands and soon the satisfying click of the lock was heard. 

As Tanerus opened the lid, two of the other mounting holes snapped open and four tiny needles flew at him. He had time to throw up his hands to protect his face. The needles buried into his arms, two on each side. Tanerus yelped and slumped back, his left arm burned, and his knees started to weaken. He quickly fumbled for a potion and quaffed it. The potion's warmth spread through him, and the poison in his arm seemed to receed. He still felt weak, but he knew the poison would not continue to make him weaker now.

Durgaden popped his head over the firepit. "You alright?"

Tanerus cursed softly. "Yeah... just fine." He slid the lid open and a bright green glow washed out over him. A fist sized emerald sat in the box. On either side of the emerald were carved dwarven runes. Tanerus backed up, "I've done my part." He looked to Will. "Your turn."

Will stepped forward and examined the emerald without touching it. "Without knowing what those runes say I wouldn't begin to know what it does."

Durgaden examined them. "This one is uh... power... or fire. Something like that." 

Tanerus rolled his eyes. "Yeah those are real similar."

Durgaden continued, "And this one is... armor... or protection." He nodded.

Will smiled, "Well without knowing exactly I can't even hazard a guess." He stepped away from the box.

Durgaden shrugged and pulled off his gauntlet. He reached in and plucked the gem out. The glow receeded into the gem and became a steady pulse. The box seemed almost relieved to have the gem finally removed. Cracks appeared in the box, and it crumbled into dust. 

Durgaden examined the gem for a few moments, and unable to get it to do anything, he slid it into his magical backpack.

The party backed out of the audience chamber and moved to the north secret door. The exploration continued, the party found a locked door, and decided not to break it down when Tanerus failed to pick the lock. The next room they found contained an ancient well, and another secret door. This led to a passage that ended in the backside of another secret door. A large bedroom sat on the otherside. 

The party fanned out to search the bedroom, when Will was overcome with a sharp pain in his head. When his vision cleared, instead of an ancient ransacked bedroom he saw a well kept room, with a single armored dwarf readying himself for battle. The doors burst open, and an orc and goblin horde rushed in. The dwarf faught valiantly, and was able to destroy the horde, including three ogres that were with it. But as the horde fell away, a demon joined the battle. The ancient dwarf and the demon clashed with a bright flash, and when Will's vision cleared, the room was back to normal. He quickly told his companions what he saw. 

Durgaden kicked at the remains on the floor. "But there is no dwarf here. He must have lived." The party exited the room from its main doors to the south, as they did so, Will stopped short. He could see an apparition of the ancient dwarf. The ancient warrior priest had one armed ripped off, but had survived the encounter with the demon it would seem. He stumbled off to the south, down an immense hallway. Will quickly told his companions and they followed the ghost to the south. 

Right before a massive set of double doors, the dwarf stumbled and began leaning on the wall a lot. Will narrowed his eyes and looked back at where they had come from. "Why would he go some fifty feet, and then start leaning on the wall?" He pushed against the wall in every place the dwarf ghost did. Meanwhile, the ghost pulled out a key, used it, and faded through the closed doors.

Will felt part of the wall give slightly, then there was a satisfying click. "Ah ha... a trap." 

Tanerus stepped up and examined the floor. "Sure enough, large pit trap by the looks of it." He jogged back to a pile of rubble and began piling it on the trapdoor to see if it would open. Nothing happened.

Just as Tanerus was about to step forward a soft click was heard. Will looked at the wall, the shifting stone had reset itself. He pressed it again and Tanerus quickly moved to try and pick the lock on the door. He cursed as he broke pick after pick, "Its a no go." He quickly got off the trap door before it reset.

Durgaden smiled, "I can open it." The rest of the party quickly disagreed. They didn't want to attract that kind of attention yet. Another set of double doors led to the south. Will repressed the switch and Tanerus quickly opened that set of doors.

Tanerus peered in, "More stairs, and another set of double doors." He jogged back to the party. They looked down at their map.

Amador pointed to past the doors. "That looks like it leads back to the bad mojo area. We've come in a circle." 

Will frowned, "We also have another problem, soon the Zhents are gonna know something is up. Their runner is due any minute."

Durgaden smiled, "Lets go pay them a visit then."

Tanerus frowned, "Thats a fortified position, there is no way we can take that."

Will shook his head, "They have lots of things outside the fortification, even if they miss one runner, its not like that is going to be enough to have them shut themselves in."

Tanerus thought about it. "Your right. We would be better to hit them now even if they might know something is up, than to wait and let them get entrenched even further once they are sure something is up."

Amador nodded, "Back to the surface then?" The entire party agreed and they quickly made their way toward the exit, vowing to return here once the Zhentarim were dispatched.

As the party got close to the entrance, Will stopped and frowned. Durgaden asked, "What is it?"

"Its my owl. He says there is lots of movement at the camp. They know something is up."

Durgaden grinned, "Then we better move faster." The party quickened its pace and set out across the city toward the Zhentarim camp. 

Nearly halfway there Will's owl sent another warning that he relayed to the party. "The giant bat is in the air, it has a rider, and it's flying air support for people on the ground."

Tanerus frowned, "I have a bad feeling about this."

Amador slid an arrow into his bow. "Let them come, Corellian will protect us."

Durgaden grinned his dwarfish grin and looked around for a good place to make a stand, "Bring it on."


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## Gilgalad (Apr 1, 2003)

*Well...what are ya wait'n for ?*

Finish the bloody adventure story already


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## Wraithdrit (Apr 2, 2003)

*Session 4 Continued...*

_Meanwhile within the Zhentarim fortifications, about half an hour earlier...._ 

Captain Argah strode from the commander's office. Lt Grendar, a fairly impressive half-orc wearing the black full plate emblazoned with the Zhentarim's badge on his left shoulder, was waiting for him. The half-orc fell into step with the human captain who wore matching armor. 

The half-orc spoke first, "Well? What did she say?"

"We are finally going after them." The captain never faltered in his step, even as they entered the large central chamber of the mine. He called out to the first servant he saw, "Saddle our horses." He motioned between himself and the half-orc. "Then summon Bergosh." The servant nodded and rushed off.

The half-orc grinned, "Captain Bergosh will be glad that he and his tribe members will be able to avenge the blood of their fallen."

The captain stopped dead in his tracks and spun on the half-orc. "Get this straight, and quickly, lieutenant. We are eliminating a threat, not pandering to our lesser minions wishes."

The half-orc snapped to attention, "Yes, Sir!"

The captain nodded, then sighed slightly, "At ease, lieutenant. Sorry, did not mean to take that out on you. Its just the commander has ordered us to take Xandos, his apprentice, and the woodsman with us." The contempt the military man felt for the added baggage was obvious.

The half-orc tried to soften the anger his captain was feeling. "The woodsman's tigers could be useful, Sir, and we know they have arcane mages with them, they proved that just outside of Dagger Falls."

"Yes, I know. But the last thing I want is Xandos' mount giving away our position." 

"The bat is fairly quiet, sir. Besides, we have no way of knowing if they are at the camp still, in the temple, or even in the city."

"They are still in the city, lieutenant. I can assure you of that. In fact, I guarantee you they are still in the temple."

"Of course sir." The half-orc knew when to stop argueing. The sounds of leather and metal, clinking over and over again, as well as the ackward sounds of something flopping about signaled the arrival of the captain's least favorite member of the Zhentarim forces.

Xandos walked in, his robes, dangling with fetishes and scroll cases, a wand sheathed at his side, leading his mount, a massive dire bat. The creature half flopped, half hopped along the ground, its harness rattling as it moved. "Greetings captain. I hear we are going hunting."

Captain Argah nodded, "Indeed skymage, we are. Is your apprentice ready?" 

A voice from beside Xandos said, "I'm here, captain." 

The captain scowled. The apprentice was invisible. That would make for a wonderful random variable. He made a note not to get choked up if he got caught in a cross fire. "Good." The growl that came from a side passage caught everyone's attention and they turned to see a massive pair of tigers padding out of the gloom of the corridor. A young fellow with dark hair, and matching dark clothes followed the tigers in. Attached to his belt was a scourge and a long sword. The backs of the tigers were marred with scaring from the scourge.

"Greetings Cap." The youth grinned darkly as he strode up. As a scout he was outside the normal Zhentarim chain of command. He reported only to the commander. The captain scowled, if any of his men dared call him 'Cap', he would have had them beaten. "What's our prey?"

"A group of four. They left Dagger Falls a few days ago, and came straight here. They have run into and destroyed two of our patrols, so far. If it was not for Tursa's escape we would not even know their capabilities. They have a dwarven warrior, a halfling scout, an elven warrior, and a young human wizard adept at dispelling magic. We know they have passed through the Thayan camp, killing all of them. They are now in the mines." The Captain paused as the smell of the unwashed hit him. 

Captain Bergosh had arrived. The immense orc settled into a chair and growled, "These are the ones that kill my brethren?"

"Aye. They are... so this is how it is going to go down. Xandos, you will fly air support, if anything happens-"

The Skymage interrupted him, "Do not forget whom you are talking to Captain. You command your troops, I will support your units. Beyond that, I will do as I please. Do not forget your place."

Captain Argah's nostrils flared and he swallowed his anger before continueing. Argueing back with a Zhentarim mage as high ranked and Xandos was a quick way to end his career. He went on with the briefing, "Bergosh... you and your ... 'men', will split up into two flanking units. Myself, the lieutenant, the woodsman, and two of our men will make up the center column."

"When we get to the Thayan camp, Bergosh, you and your men will stay outside. Woodsman, your team will go inside. You have been assigned two of my best men, and Xandos' apprentice. You will enter the temple complex and seek out these interlopers and engage them. You will then retreat towards the exit. Bergosh, your men will ambush them as they leave the temple complex."

The human captain looked at the woodsman a moment. "You have twelve hours in the temple. Should you fail to report back in that amount of time..." he turned to look at the orc captain, "you are to collapse the front hall of the temple."

"What about the book sir?" This was from his lieutenant.

"The Commander says the book will wait. We know where the key to the crypts are. We can go back to business as usual till we are confident they have starved to death. Then we continue where we left off. Everyone clear on your orders?"

A chorus of 'ayes' went around the group and they moved to prepare their troops and be underway.

The woodsman tapped Lt Grendar on the shoulder after the captain had strode off. "You know if this goes bad, you'll be the first to go." The half-orc stiffened and snarled a bit, showing a bit of fang. "But don't worry lieutenant, when I get back here I will tell the commander you died valiantly."

"Coward... you would flee a battle?" 

"Faster than you can say 'My mother didn't know when to keep an orc out of her pants.'" The woodsman turned and started to walk off. He stopped and looked over his shoulder. "I'm not one of you, half-orc. I'm not a lamb blindly following the wrong man into battle. Captain Argah is a fool, and you are a fool to follow him. No one has faced these four and lived except for Tursa, and that fey'ri wench is slippery. The commander wants to know more about their forces, so she is sending her most bull headed troops to die, in hopes I can learn something more about what we are up against. I know I can get out of there if need be. Can you?"

"I would never flee a battle." The lieutenant puffed up a bit, his wounded pride evident. 

"Exactly. Lambs to the slaughter."


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## Wraithdrit (Apr 3, 2003)

*Session 4 (continued)*

Durgaden found a good spot behind a still standing wall, placing the wall between himself and the oncoming forces. The Zhentarim were nothing but a soft glow distant in the ruins, their torches giving away their location.

Tanerus found a good corner with rubble piled near it. He found a small hole in the wall, nestled into it and pulled up the hood of his magic cloak, all but dissappearing from sight.

Will and Amador found an intact wall with a window that looked down the path of the approaching forces.

They all hunkered as close to their cover as possible. The dire bat and its rider would have to fly directly over them to be able to see them. The waiting began.

Tanerus settled in, wanting the fight to start. Fighting was scary, and he never liked to fight, but it was always easier than the waiting. The uneasy anticipation before a fight was enough to rattle anyone's nerves.

Durgaden checked the straps on his breast plate. Satisified it was well in place, he examined the head of his magic waraxe. With his waraxe in his hand, he felt like he could take on anything. 

Will went over calculation after calculation, combination of spells after combination of spells. 

Amador pulled a few of his arrows out and stuck them point first in holes in the rubble. He figured he could fire faster if he had them so easily at hand.

Finally the first of the Zhentarim came into view. It was a relatively small party compared to what they were expecting. In the lead were a pair of immense tigers. Behind them strode a young man dressed in leathers. He wielded a sword in one hand, and carried something else in the other. Behind him strode two Zhentarim Regulars. Large men, maybe even half-orcs, the two wore plate armor and carried the shield and short swords common to all Zhentarim Regulars.

Behind the regulars rode two men, obviously commanders. Both wore full plate armor, and carried shields. Both had long swords in their hands. Overhead, the dire bat circled, a couple hundred feet up. The whole group was easily two hundred feet off in the ruins still.

"No better time than the present," muttered Will. He let loose with a spell, a single pea shaped ball of fire shooting forth from his outstretched hands, ripping forward to explode in the middle of the group. 

Chaos reigned for a moment or two in the Zhentarim ranks. Lt Grendar went down hard, his mount slain from beneath him. The woodsman and the two Zhentarim Regulars were thrown around like ragdolls. Captain Argah's horse reared up, but he managed to keep on his saddle and threw his sword forward, pointing and yelling. Then Will's second fireball exploded in their midst. 

Captain Argah's horse collapsed, dead. The Captain managed to roll to his feet. Lt Grendar also gained his feet. The two Zhentarim Regulars were dead. The woodsman scrambled to behind some rubble, yelling something at his tigers. Both the animals had been outside the blast of the fireballs.  The flames had surprised the tigers, and it was in that moment of surprise that Amador's arrows started to sink into the flank of one of the tigers. One, two, three, then a fourth arrow, all streaked in, biting deep into the tiger's flesh. 

With yowls of anger, the twin beasts charged toward thir assailants. The woodsman quickly quaffed a potion, then began to move in after them. 

Above the battle field, Xandos was momentarily blinded by the bright flash of the fireballs. He cursed and flung his own fireball into the ruins in which the arrows and spells were flying.

Durgaden watched as the ball of fire streaked over his position. He covered his eyes and felt the heat of the blast, but was well out of the area of effect. Will and Amador braced as the fireball raced toward their position. The explosion was intense but both survived. Tanerus winced as the fireball went off behind him. He held his position, waiting to spring his ambush.

Quickly Will went through the motions of his best protection spell, a globe of protection magic sprung up around him and Amador. It would keep out the effects of anything as powerful as a fireball or lightning bolt.

Durgaden broke from cover as he heard the sounds of orcish howls. From the left and right flanks a score of orcs and ogres broke from cover at a dead run, looking like they were going to try and swarm the groups positions. Durgaden broke to the left, found a sturdy pile of rubble and set himself to hold the line against the coming charge. "Bring it ya smelly mongrels! These are my mines!"

Tanerus' heart leapt into his throat as he heard the battle cries of the approaching orcs. He was on the right flank. He dared not move as half a dozen orcs raced past his position. He could have thrown a dagger at any of them, probably killed one, maybe two, but then all of them would know he was there.

Durgaden smirked as the first of the orcs on his flank charged up the rubble at him. He dropped one, then a second, then a third one with easy swipes of his waraxe. Two larger orcs came racing up, but slowed at the base of the rubble. Obviously more intelligent, these two looked like leaders. One of them ordered the other to one side. So that was their leader then, thought Durgaden. The orcs moved more cautiously, not recklessly charging up the mound of rubble. They quickly surrounded the dwarf and swarmed in on him. Orcs he could handle, even the ogre that was moving in did not concern Durgaden. When he heard the yowl of the tiger though, he started to worry. 

The beast threw itself at Durgaden, latching onto him and biting and clawing at his armor. The shield and breast plate protected him well though, and while he was cut in places, none of the wounds were mortal. The orcs started to strike at his weapon and at the rubble he stood on, trying to break his defensive position and make it easier for thier captain, the ogre, or the tiger to finish the dwarf off. 

But Durgaden held his own. His training had been for just such instances. He knew how to defend himself, and as long as he had his shield and his axe, he was confident he could survive this. That was about the time the woodsman's scourge whipped up at Durgaden, wrapped around his waraxe's handle and yanked the weapon from his grasp.

Over where Will and Amador were the second tiger raced toward them. It decided at the last moment that the window they were firing from was too small, so started to move around their position, flanking then with the orcs.

Captain Argah and Lt Grendar were closing quickly on foot. Overhead Xandos ineffectively bounced Magic Missiles off of Will's Minor Globe of Invulnerability. Will cast his spell of webs up at the dire bat, hoping to entangle it, and bring it to the ground. The webs all dissappeared ten feet from Xandos, dissolving against Xandos' own Globe. 

Tanerus was about to move from his cover when a massive ogre walked right in front of his position and paused. The halfling held his breath hoping the ogre would move on.

The mages were almost cancelling each other out. Durgaden's waraxe had been ripped from his hand, Amador and Will's position was being flanked, and Tanerus was trapped behind the enemy line. Things were not looking good for the companions, then Xandos' ice storm ripped through the ruins that Will and Amador were hiding in, easily penetrating thier protecting globe.


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## Wraithdrit (Apr 4, 2003)

*Session 4 Conclusion*

Amador and Will were rocked by the blast of ice and snow. 
Will stumbled into the corner of the ruins, then turned to look out the window, seeing Durgaden being slowly overwhelmed. He muttered an incantation and a massive wall of fire appeared in a ring around the melee. From within screams of anguish could be heard. Will knew the dwarf was tough, hopefully he would not roast too bad within the flames. Since he was in the center, he would be less in danger then all those around him.

Amador was also casting, a whirling disk made of blades appeared amidst the orcs on the right flank, slashing and cutting most of them to ribbons. 

Durgaden yelped as his waraxe was ripped from his hands, and flames sprung up around him. Quickly he pulled a hand axe from its strap behind him and hacked at the tiger that had attached itself to his shield. Finally the beast fell back dead. 

The ogre in front of Tanerus finally took a step or two forward. Tanerus slipped out behind it and went to bury his dagger in its back. At the last possible moment, the rubble beneath the halfling shifted and he missed the ogre completely. Yelping, Tanerus fell to the ground and rolled to beneath the disc of whirling spinning blades, just as the ogre's club smash into the rocks upon which he had fell. 

As he rolled to a stop beneath the whirling death above him, Tanerus noticed that one orc was alive, crouching beneath the blades. Quickly Tanerus extended his arm and drew his dagger easily and efficiently across the orc's throat. It collapsed and died beside the small wild halfling.

Meanwhile the second tiger had ducked the whirling disk of blades and tore its way around the ruins into the area where Will and Amador where. It leapt on Will, ripping and tearing at him. The wizard screamed in pain then lashed out in a quick incantation. Flames ripped from his hands, bathing over the tiger. As the beast fell dead at his feet, Will collapsed back on the rubble, bleeding badly.

The fight raged on inside the ring of fire, its scorching heat only lasting a few moments before the flames died away. Will cursed when he saw his wall of fire was brought down. The ogre that Tanerus had missed loped into the melee with Durgaden, swinging its big club around.

Will was still bleeding badly, between the ice storm and the tiger's attack the wizard was nearly dead. "Amador I..."

The elf was not paying attention, he was ingrossed in casting another spell at the melee in front of them. Will cursed and pulled out a healing potion, glaring at Amador.

The spell went off, a bright flash burning through the melee. Holy energy ripped through the combatants. The woodsman threw up his arms clawing at his eyes, screaming. Both ogres did likewise. The rest of the orcs lay dead, except for their captain and two seargents. Durgaden was starting to like the odds a bit better now. Thats when the human captain and the half-orc Lt Grendar joined the melee.

Tanerus tumbled from beneath the blades, stood up on the run, planted a foot on the back of the shin muscles of one ogre, used its belt as a hand hold and sprung up to bury his dagger into the base of the thing's neck. The blade slid easily between bone, and sliced through its spine, killing it instantly. The halfling landed, rolled, came up behind the orc captain, lept onto his back, both legs wrapping around the orc's waist, his free hand grabbing the orc's hair. He wrenched back the orc's head and slit his throat, killing him as well.

Durgaden was liking the odds more and more.

Amador noticed that Will was still hurt, so he called upon Corellian's healing energys. The wizard breathed a sigh of relief and looked up at Xandos, trying to figure out what he could do to the flying wizard, now that he had protected himself from magic. Thats when the second ice storm ripped through Will and Amador.

Durgaden and Tanerus both saw the ice storm, and feared the worst. Tanerus tumbled again, this time behind the human captain that had entered the melee. The man was barely standing as it was. Tanerus kicked the back of the man's knee, when he fell to his knee, the captain half turned to see who was attacking him. Tanerus plunged his dagger into the man's eye, ending his life.

Finally able to see, and now able to see the carnage that lay around the dwarf's feet as well as the halfling that had joined the fray, the woodsman turned and ran back toward the Zhentarim camp.

Durgaden fought with the only remaining combatants, one of the orcish seargents and the half-orc Lt Grendar. He buried his hand axe in the orc's chest, and as it collapsed to the ground he turned on the half-orc.

Tanerus called, "Will! Amador!" There was no reply. 

Overhead Xandos grinned. Foolish Captain Argah was dead finally. Most of the force had been wiped out, but he could care less, the intruders were dieing off finally. A few more well placed spells and the only two left standing would be dead. He let loose a fireball into the midst of the dwarf and halfling, not caring that it ended the life of Lt Grendar as well.

The fireball erupted between Tanerus and Durgaden. The dwarf stumbled, his opponent was incinerated. The halfling saw the blast coming, and rolled to the ground, pulling the corpse of an orc to above him. When the fire ended, he wiggled free from the corpse, unhurt, and ran to the ruins that Amador and Will were in. He had pulled a healing potion out on the run and he lifted Amador's lifeless head up and began pouring the liquid into his open mouth. Amador coughed then gulped at the sweet healing liquid. 

Tanerus whispered, "Heal yourself quickly, the bat riding mage is still upon us." The halfling turned towards Will's motionless form.

Xandos grinned down at the dwarf. The halfling must have been killed, because he didn't see him. Out of spells the Skymage pulled out one of his wands and launched another fireball down at the dwarf. He cackled as the explosion ripped through where the dwarf was standing. When the flames dissappeared Xandos was amazed to see the dwarf still standing tall. The impudent warrior shook his fist at the mage, raised a potion as if in toast, then guzzled it down.

Furious, Xandos fireballed the dwarf again. And again the dwarf was still standing! Xandos' fury was uncontainable. He screamed in anger as the dwarf drank another potion! "Die! Die! Why won't you die?!" The wizard pointed his wand again and again, even though the magical device was only able to spit fireballs out once every few seconds. 

Meanwhile Tanerus had found Will to be alive as well, his eyes opening as he guzzled on the healing potion Tanerus gave him. The wizard snatched up his crossbow, loaded one of his special bolt of fire into it. "See how he likes this..."

Tanerus looked concerned, "Will, won't that draw attention to us?"

Amador cast another heal spell, this time on Will. Both the cleric and the wizard were pretty ragged looking, but they lived.

Will answered Tanerus, "We have a protection spell on us." He nodded at the faint shimmering magic that surrounded them. "Unless he has more ice storms we will be fine." He sighted and pulled the trigger of his crossbow, as the bolt sped through the air, it erupted into flames.

The bolt completely missed the bat and its rider. It was about then that Will felt and saw his glimmering globe of protection blink then fade out of existance. The spell had run its course. "Oh no." 

Xandos saw the flaming arrow streak past him. He look down and saw the wizard, the elf and the halfling all looking back. "What?! Thats impossible!" Xandos was beside himself with anger, he switched targets launching a fireball into the midst of the three. Had he not been so angry he might have remembered the globe, and calculated that it might have run its course. Instead he was acting on instinct, and could have cared less that blind luck had made the fireball's eruption possible.

Flames erupted around the trio. Tanerus had seen a hole in the rubble and dived into, and was unharmed. Amador was still standing. Will was burned nearly beyond recognition. As the smoke cleared, the human lay crumbled and broken, seared, and blackened, atop a pile of rubble. His eyes stared out into space, nearly lifeless.

Above Xandos yanked hard on the reigns, yanking his mount around. This was pointless. He had to report back this defeat. He and the Commander would decide how best to deal with these intruders. He had seen their tactics. He knew them now... and knowing them would reveal their weaknesses. His anger had passed, replaced with determination.

Tanerus and Amador jumped at the same time, reaching for Will's seemingly lifeless form. Amador's hands glowed once more as he called on Corellian's healing energy. "Please m'lord, just once more..."

His prayers were answered, Will gasped again for life, lurching as his heart restarted. Breath after breath ripped through his scorched lungs, and though it hurt to breath, hurting meant he was alive.  

Durgaden raced over, "Is he alive?"

Will answered before the others, "Barely... the mage?" His voice sounded awful.

Durgaden growled, holding his own waraxe tight in his hands, having already recovered it. "Gone. Flown off."

Tanerus looked around, "Back to tell the others what he saw."

"Another one got away," growled the dwarf. "The one with the whip... I owe him a blow or two." The dwarf gripped his axe tight.

"But first," said Amador, "we need to find someplace to rest."


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## Wraithdrit (Apr 15, 2003)

*Session Five (Part 1 of 3)*

*Eleint 27th, 1372 - Predawn Hours*

The party had a fairly quick, heated discussion on where they should try to rest at. The Zhentarim might come after them, so they needed some place that could be defended fairly well. Going back out of town was dicussed, but discarded for being too far out of the way. Holing up in the Temple of the Axe (the only still standing structure in the town) was discarded as too obvious an idea. The last idea was to go back into the excavated 'mines' that the party had explored, and find a fairly defensive position there.

Durgaden growled, "Only a fool would retreat into there. Sounds perfect."

Tanerus looked at Durgaden with amusement, but was done argueing the point. They went into the hidden portions of the complex behind several secret doors, closing and attempting to temporarily disable the doors behind them. 

After resting for several hours, Will gathered up several of the items they had found and began the long process of identifying their enchantments. A shield, a set of full plate armor, a couple of pairs of bracers, and a ring all held minor defensive enchantments. The only item anyone was interested in was the ring. Eventually it was given to Durgaden. The thayan wand was identified as a Wand of Agnazzar's Scorcher. The dwarven gem was noted to have defensive powers but not of a personal nature. It powered some sort of city or complex defense. Anything further was just beyond the means of the simple identify spell. The dwarven waraxe held enchantments to increase its balance and heft. While Durgaden already had one waraxe, the memory of getting his axe stripped from him was enough to take up the second waraxe as a spare. 

Potions were divided up, and identified by color and consistency. All but a couple of the potions were now known. Various pieces of jewelry, gems, and other valuables were collected up at Will's request. "I have learned a new spell, teleport. I plan to go back to Dagger Falls. There I can pick us up some supplies." The other party members agreed, and gave Will a list of things they felt they needed now. 

Amador said, "While you are gone, we will look around the mines a bit more. We will meet you back here... how long?"

Will thought a moment. "Give me a full twenty four hours. I have several people I need to meet with to unload some of these more exotic items. With my family resources I should be able to get a good deal for most of it. Durgaden, give me the drow holy symbol. I know a good cleric of Tyr. He can get rid of it for us."

Drugaden looked shocked. "But... its Mithril!"

"I for one am tired of dreaming of spiders, we need to get rid of it." Will seemed pretty adamant. Tanerus quickly agreed. 

"Fine... but if he can just break the enchantment, I want the metal back!" The dwarf reluctantly parted with the mithril holy symbol.

Amador said, "Why don't you take the gem back with you as well, see if you can find out more about it."

Will nodded, "I'll check with the sages in town. One of them surely knows more about it." With that, Will collected up many of the party's treasures and cast his spell, dissappearing into nothingness.

Durgaden grinned and squeezed the grip on his axe. "Lets go open that door."

They moved down the hall to the large set of double doors that Tanerus had not been able to open prior. Again he worked diligently on the lock only to be unsuccessful. For a moment he just about had it, then all the tumblers slid back into place. "Damn it."

Durgaden gently moved Tanerus out of the way and grinned, "Let me show ye how to open a locked door." He ran at the door and threw his shoulder at it.

With a huge thud the dwarf bounced off the unharmed door. Tanerus and Amador smirked while Durgaden picked himself up and brushed off his pants. "Fine!" He hefty his axe and with three mighty swings he severed the latch between the doors. "Now its open." The sounds of his axe blows echoed through the stone halls.

Tanerus rolled his eyes and slipped the doors open. A set of stairs led up to the back of another secret door. He examined the steps and door, and determining it was safe opened the secret doors. 

The chamber on the otherside was some twenty feet wide and thirty feet deep or so. Ancient mosaics, relief carvings and wall art decorated each wall. All of the art was smashed or carved across, marring every surface. On the far side of the room lay the smashed remnants of some sort of altar or statue. 

As Tanerus and Durgaden slipped into the room, stepping over and around the ancient remains of the defenders and attackers of the compound, Amador stayed in the doorway, watching them and glancing back now and then.

Amador cocked his head to one side and narrowed his eyes. A twin pair of red lights rose up behind each of his companions. Just as Amador cried out a warning, ghostly figures appear with glowing red eyes and lept upon his friends.

Both Tanerus and Durgaden cried out, the touch of the ghostly forms sending icy shivers through their very souls. The two companions' eyes sunk in a little, their frames seemed to get weaker as their very life energy was drained from them. 

Tanerus was the first to react, he lashed out at the thing that clawed at his soul, his magic short sword biting deep into the thing. It howled, backed off a bit and seemed to regard the halfling with a bit more wariness.

Durgaden spun on his attacker, his war axe flashing twice quickly. The thing yelled as his blow seemed to rip through the fabric of its own unliving essence, but his second blow seemed to pass straight through, not effecting it in the slightest.

Amador lowered his bow and grabbed his holy symbol and cried out in elvish, "By the light of Corellian, be gone!" His holy symbol shone brightly and both beings howled in anguish as the rays hit them. The spirit fighting Tanerus turned and fled quickly, dissappearing through the far wall. Tanerus slumped back against the doorway, barely standing of his own power. Durgaden pressed his attack, slicing twice more into the spirit in front of him. Again one hit seemed to tear at the thing, while the second seemed to pass harmlessly through it. It then also succumbed to the light of the holy symbol and fled through the far wall. 

Amador fished into his pack. "Quickly my friends, they shan't be gone long." He tossed a potion to each of his companions, "These will restore your life energys, at least partially."

Durgaden uncorked the potion and asked, "How long till the spirits return?"

Tanerus asked after drinking his potion down, "And will they return if they know you are still here?"

"About a minute or so, and yes they will return, what I did to them is the worst insult their kind can bear. They will be back for my soul if they have the power." 

Durgaden seemed to have all of his color back, he motioned the others out of the room, "I'll defend the doorway."

Tanerus still looked pale, so Amador handed him another potion. He was not going to have many left at this rate, but he did not have any of the restorative spells prepared, so there was little choice but to use the potions.

As if on cue the spirits both ripped through the far wall flying across the room, screaming their pain and anger in unearthly howls. Durgaden held the line though, slamming the first charging spirit with his waraxe. It retaliated by passing its hand through the breastplate of Durgaden's armor and sucking forth more of his life energy. Durgaden cried out in pain and sliced once more with his waraxe. The thing howled in a painful release and dissappeared forever.

Its companion was quickly taking advantage of Durgaden being distracted. Tanerus stepped up and stabbed it in the side, while Amador shot an arrow that passed straight through the thing. It ignored them all though, focusing on the weakened Durgaden. Its chill touch passed through his arm and once again his life force was drained from him.

Something about the dwarf seemed to keep him strong though. He focused on the defense of the doorway and his companions, nothing was going to get past him. The dwarf angrily spun on his attacker, hitting it once, then again sending it to join its friend in oblivion. As the fight ended, Durgaden slumped to his knees, whimpering. Now that he knew his defense had held, whatever inner energy he had called upon to stay standing was quickly fading. 

Amador was quickly at his side, pressing a potion to his lips. As Durgaden drank it down his complexion seemed to brighten back up a bit, and his face looked less pained. He coughed a bit and nodded to Amador, "Thanks again friend."

They once again searched the room, this time a bit more warily. Nothing of importance was found, so they slipped through a pair of double doors into a large hall. As the doors opened a blast of heat hit them. Durgaden smiled and sighed, "Ah, the feel of the forge..."

Tanerus frowned, "Why would the forges still be lit after all this time?" 

Durgaden considered it a moment, "You're right... that is odd." Cautiously they moved forward till they could see the four forges. The doors to the forges stood open, bright flames leapt within. As the dwarf came within sight of the forges the flames poured out onto the ground forming three massive humanoid figures. 

One of the fiery creatures lifted a hand and pointed at the dwarf, howling, "You dwarves leave us to rot! WE'LL KIIIIIIILL YOOOOU!"


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## Wraithdrit (Apr 15, 2003)

*Session Five OOC Info*

In case those of you out in reader land are wondering how things are coming along OOC, I thought I would give a few updates on characters, players, and so forth.

The characters also have made enough XP to get to 9th level. Yeah, woo hoo! Go team. Amador took a level of cleric (we also redid his character a little stripping out the war priest PrC and making him straight cleric). Tanerus took another level of rogue. He was quite happy to gain another die for sneak attacking, until he faced undead and an elementals in the same night. He gnashed his teeth and lamented not being able to sneak attack all night. 

Will of course took a level of wizard (evoker), and Durgaden took his second level in dwarven defender.

Will's player had to be out of town this weekend and next, meaning he had to work last night (Monday every other week is game time). He offered to do this whole teleport back to town thing, and let the others play without him.

In order to keep the pace of the game up, I decide that was worthwhile, and only modified one encounter to make up for the difference in the party strengths. Originally there were supposed to be FOUR fire elementals.  

The spirits were straight wraiths. Two CR 5 monsters, making it a CR 7 encounter, so I figured the three of them (especially with a cleric) would be quite capable of handling them. I started to wonder about halfway through the fight if I was on crack. In the end it turned out as you see written. They ended up with Durgaden down a few con points over all, but nothing that Amador won't be able to handle after they rest the next time. He hated to use up his Defensive Stance so early in the game, but it really helped out, giving him an additional 4 points of con in a pinch (see reference to him using inner energy, yadda, yadda).

The campaign pieces are really starting to come together. I'll post more OOC stuff after the next post reveals the rest of what happened in Session Five.


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## Wraithdrit (Apr 15, 2003)

*Session Five (Part 2 of 3)*

Durgaden swung his axe back and forth, set himself to recieve a charge and growled, "The dwarves are back, we are here to restart the forges and repopulate the mines!"

_"Weee haaaave beeeen enslaaaaaved heeeere foooor huuuundreds of yeeeeears! Weeee wiiiiiiill kiiiiiiill yoooooou!"_ 

The elementals swarmed forward toward Durgaden. Tanerus braced behind the burly dwarf, ready to aid him. Amador lowered his bow and muttered prayers to Corellian. Energy surrounded the first of the Elementals, swirling around him as Amador's prayer reached a crescendo, the elvish words finally audible to all, "... and go back to where you come from!"

Beneath the elemental a tear in the fabric of reality was opened. Beyond could be seen nothing but fire. Heat lashed up from the Elemental Plane of Fire. The elemental raised it hands and was sucked through the rift. It howled with pleasure as it finally returned home. The rift closed quickly, leaving the other two elementals looking between the rift and the party. With angry shouts they lept toward Durgaden. 

The first one swiped out at the dwarven warrior, slamming into him. He cried out in pain not really noticing that his surcoat and backpack were on fire. He exchanged blows with the thing. Each time his axe flashed bits of flame were ripped from the elemental. It seemed to care little for his attacks, choosing instead to focus on slamming its flaming fists into him. 

Tanerus slipped out and lashed out at the second one, cutting it deep. From behind the front line, Amador's prayers once again rose to an audible level, the elvish words calling forth. "Cover my friend in your cloak of protection, my lord. Let him resist the fires that burn within these beasts!" He touched Tanerus on the back and a soft blue shimmer passed over him.

Just in time the shimmer covered the small halfling as the elemental he faced turned to slam him. It hurt to get hit by the large flaming fist, but it didn't burn him. The resistance held, allowing none of the flames to harm him.

Meanwhile Durgaden was growling out curses as his axe bit again and again into his foe. The flames continued to burn his hair and clothing. He ached all over, and his right shoulder throbbed. One of the elementals attacks had slammed into the shoulder and he knew it was dislocated. It would not take long at this rate for him to fall. "Amador!"

The elf responded quickly to the calls for aid. His hands glowed as he called forth his best healing prayer. He gently touched Durgaden, and the dwarf was quickly healed. He laid into his opponent with renewed vigor. 

Meanwhile, Tanerus was barely holding his own. He had found his attacks ineffectual so he instead concentrated on attempting to annoy Durgaden's opponent. He lashed out at the things fists, trying to aid his companion. With the elemental distracted, Durgaden slammed his axe into its chest and fell apart, turning into a smile smoldering pile of coal. 

Amador lifted his bow and shot an arrow, but it burned up upon impacting the remaining elemental, seeming to do nothing. He decided just keeping Durgaden healthy was going to be the best way he could help this fight.

Durgaden shifted his focus, and began carving chunks of flame out of the last of the elementals. The elemental quickly turned its attention on the new threat, but each time he slammed the dwarf, Durgaden merely stumbled back into the healing touch of Amador. 

Amador became a bit concerned after using three very powerful heals on Durgaden.

Tanerus once again tried to distract the elemental, swiping at its fists.

Finally the last elemental fell to Durgaden's axe. Durgaden shook his head, not relishing having to kill the servants of the forge, but they had obviously been driven mad by hundreds of years of useless bondage.

They set about searching the area. Soon Durgaden called Tanerus and Amador over, "There is some sort of false plate here. See! Look how this forge is slightly thicker than the others here."

Tanerus nodded and examined the secret compartment. "No traps, no lock." He tapped it and the compartment fell open to reveal a pair of gaunlets laid atop a large stone brick carved with dwarven runes.

Tanerus handed the gauntlets over to Durgaden. "These are... Mithril!" Durgaden seemed almost childlike with his glee. He quickly donned the gauntlets. "Very nice! They fit like a glove!" 

Tanerus opened his mouth to say something then decided against it, just smiling and shaking his head. He turned and tried to read the runes on the stone. Durgaden helped him. "This is the word 'the'... this is the word 'stone'... thats all I recognize." They placed the stone safely in Durgaden's pack to examine further later. 

Having gone as far as they could in this direction the party double back and soon entered a massive entry hall of some sort. Pillars line the room and a huge pair of metal double doors were at the far east end. Runes were carved onto the doors with fine craftsmanship. Either side of the doors were other carvings, but these hand been hastily marked into the stone.

"Whomever added these did so in a hurry." Amador voiced the obvious.

Tanerus and Durgaden put their heads together, deciphering the runes slowly. 

The inscription on the door read: 


> the gates only through those of dwarf blood may pass




The inscription to the left of the door read:


> we these doors seal in times of trouble
> lest nothing else add to our woes in these dark hours
> let only those with blind faith pass through
> grant such faith to those without




The inscription on the right hand side of the door read:


> the keystone was hidden
> in a dwarf warriors greatest ally




With the knowledge of these runes in hand they pulled out the stone and examined it further. They finally made out what the inscriptions on the stone said:


> the bearer of this stone will always be blooded




Tanerus grinned, "So you can only go through if you have dwarf blood, and if you don't you carry the stone, and are thus blooded? Seems the answer to me."

Durgaden nods, "Aye. But these doors... these are gateway doors. This goes to somewhere, like outside... but this place is further down than the entrance, we are thirty or fourty feet lower than when we started, and beneath a hundred foot tall cliff. It means that if these doors leave this city... there is only one place they could go."

Amador and Tanerus both said, "The Underdark."


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## Wraithdrit (Apr 15, 2003)

*Session Five (Interlude)*

*Eleint 27th, 1372 - City of Shade, just before noon*

Darkness enshrouded the grand audience chamber. The figure in the center was completely unseen by most. Dark shapes moved here and there. Dusky skinned men and women, dressed in ancient Netherese clothing moved about the room. Servants brought drinks and food to those who wished it. 

Through it all strode a single tall figure. The crowds parted for him, the darkness he exuding seeming to force even their kind out of his way. Perhaps it was not the darkness, but instead the force of his will. He walked to the foot of the central dias and dropped to one knee, bowing his head. He waited to be spoken to before speaking.

A deep voice cut from within the darkness, "You have something to report?"

"Yes m'lord." He stayed on his knee, head bowed.

"Rise. Tell me." 

Doing as he was told, the figure stood back up, his full height now apparent. Strapped to his back was a massive, long glaive. If he wore armor, it was hidden under the flowing purple and black cloak and robe he wore. "It is as we feared, lord. The Zhentarim have already sold the Axe and the Crystal."

The central darkness moved as the figure within stirred. He was a presence more than a being. So long had he been infused with darkness, now he was little more than darkness itself. "Does this require action on our part?"

"Not yet, m'lord. There has been another development, we should let it play out before we become involved." He would not dare tell his lord what to do, but when prompted for his opinion he would gladly give it. 

"What development?"

"Outsiders have destroyed the Thayan camp and killed a good number of the Zhentarim before withdrawing." The proud ash skinned warrior remained perfectly calm in the face of the darkness approaching him.

"Oh really? Do we have names for these outsiders? Is it the Chosen?" The last word was spoken with such contempt several people in the area backed away, fearing their own safety should their lord be angered.

"No my lord, we do not know their names as of yet, but we will soon, my agents are..." He was cut off before he finished speaking.

"No. You will. You will find out who they are and what role they will play in this. Do not leave this to some underling, undertake the task yourself."

He bowed his head toward his lord, "As you command. I do not think it the Chosen though my lord. This did not have their stamp of brashness nor ability."

"They had ability enough to destroy the Thayans and a good portion of the Zhentarim. Do not underestimate them. Go, find out who they are and what they are doing there. I will await your report." With that the darkness receeded once more as the lord rose back to the top of his dias and settled into his throne.

The warrior spun on one heel and strode away from the throne. As he walked, the shadows around him seemed to grow even darker. Shadows from several other people watching seemed to detach themselves and follow him into the growing darkness. Soon the shadows all seemed to melt around the figure. When they dispersed he was gone.

The voice of the lord's chamberlain could be heard by those closest to the platform. "Should I contact Wyyruth m'lord? He should be able to trade this information for..."

"No. Not yet, we will wait to see how this plays out first."

"Of course lord. We could also just send our army below. We could prevent all of this before it even begins."

"No... we will not get involved... yet."


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## Wraithdrit (Apr 15, 2003)

*Session Five (Part 3 of 3)*

Amador shook his head, "We should not go any further, we have been going for hours, and we need rest. Lets head back to the room where we have been resting and get some rest."

Durgaden nodded, "Sounds good. I could certainly use some rest."

Tanerus seemed to agree as well, so the companions turned to walk out of the room. They headed north past the pit trap they had avoided several times now. After heading north down the back hall for most of the way, they were surprised to see a single figure standing at the doorway, looking into their resting room. The figure was covered head to toe in flowing black and purple clothing. He held the haft a of a glaive in his right hand. He held it easily in one hand, thought it looked like fighting would require both hands. He turned toward them as heard them coming down the hall.

Durgaden called ahead of them, "You best have an invitation to the mines handy!"

The figure stood to its full height. Though its hood disguised its appearance at this distance it had the build of a tall well built human male. His voice called out congenially, "I was not aware that I needed an invitation to explore old ruins."

"You do if its these ruins. These mines are mine! I claim them by the right of me forefathers!" Durgaden puffed up a bit.

The figure seemed a bit taken aback at first. He took a step or two close, calling out across the fifty feet that still seperated them. "So you are a descendant of Tethyamar then?" Durgaden eased closer as well, so as not to yell as much. 

"No, but me father's father's father worked here filling the mug of every dwarf with the finest brew."

Tanerus and Amador exchanged glances.

"And since no one else has come to claim them, I have."

"I see, what is your name them Master Brewer?" asked the cloaked figure.

"Durgaden Alepounder. What be yours?"

"You can call me Clariburnus." The figure bowed, took another couple steps. The area around him seemed to darken as he moved.

"Thats close enough, drop the polearm and you can come closer."

"Very well." He casually laid aside his weapon then took a few steps closer. 

"Where are you from?"

"West of here." He strode a bit closer. This close the adventurers could make out his dusky skin, almost black in some places. He was a Shadovar! One of the inhabitants of the City of Shade. The war with the City of Shade had ended with the City in near ruins, but still intact, anchored over the desert. The Shadovar had stayed within the desert's confines since then, sending only a few of their numbers out of the desert at any one time. They were none to be ruthless to non-Shadovar who dared enter their territory, with the single exception of the Bedine people.

Durgaden gaped a moment then said, "What does a Shadovar want with me mines?"

"We have interest in anything that threatens our borders." It was true the mines were right on the border of the desert.

"We be no threat to the desert."

"You aren't but others working here are."

Tanerus called out, "You mean the Zhentarim."

"No, the Zhentarim have not crossed the line yet. And when they have in the past, we have destroyed them. Bane's lackeys do not concern us much."

Tanerus called out, "There are lines and then there are _lines_ ."

Clariburnus nodded, "Indeed." 

"So who are you after then? Someone else from within me mines?" Durgaden seemed perturbed that more people were using his mines.

"Not from within your mines, friend dwarf, but beyond. They have come through your mines though. My agents tell me there is a greater danger then these Zhentarim. The Zhentarim are working with someone, and I don't mean the pile of Thayans you left outside."

Amador frowned, "Then who?"

Clariburnus seemed to shrug a bit, "Someone is collecting things. The Axe that resided in the building outside for instance."

"You can be guaranteed, anything that resided here will return here. We will see to that."

Clariburnus nodded, "I see. Well you have your work cut out for you then."

"Perhaps you be wishing to help us then? Help rid the mines of the Zhentarim." Durgaden grinned a bit.

Clariburnus smiled, "As much as I would enjoy that, as I have said, the Zhentarim have not crossed the line yet. I can not aid you." Clariburnus kept looking over at Tanerus who was staring intently at him.

Amador said, "We need to find out who this collector is." He was gripping his bow tightly, his knuckles turning white at the mention of this 'Collector'. Something was obviously bothering the normally stoic elven priest.

"I would suggest you ask the Zhents then, since they are the ones that sold the collector the Axe." 

Durgaden nodded, "Sounds good to me. Once the mines are in good dwarven hands again perhaps we can make some sort of arrangement with your people. Surely you know of the quality metals that used to flow from this mine."

Clariburnus seemed intrigued. "Indeed. We would be interested in these metals, but not your worked items. We have no need for dwarven craftsmanship."

Drugaden frowned, "You have a problem with dwarven craftsmanship?"

Clariburnus held up his hands, "No, just no need for it. We are an ancient people with a long tradition of craftsmanship of our own. Even the best of your dwarven craft masters can not duplicate the Netherese arts. Your craftsmen are the best of their time, friend Alepounder. Our craftsmen just are not of this time. Shadows are eternal." Clariburnus grinned gently at the last statement.

Durgaden seemed placated. "Well, there is plenty to do till then. We were about to have a bite to eat and get some rest. Join us?"

Clariburnus tried to not seem disgusted by the thought, and only barely hid it. "No, thank you. I shall not keep you any longer. I am sure we will be seeing each other again."

Clariburnus shifted his gaze back to Tanerus, held his gaze for a moment then glanced to Amador. 

Durgaden nodded, "Good day then." 

Clariburnus turned and walked toward one wall. He held his hand out toward his glaive, and the shadows flickering in the corridor seemed to become solid. They lifted his weapon into his grasp then cloaked themselves around him. By the time he walked into the wall he seemed nothing but a shadow himself, a shadow that dissappeared into the wall.


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## Wraithdrit (Apr 15, 2003)

*Session Five (Epilogue)*



			
				Wraithdrit said:
			
		

> *Tanerus called out, "There are lines and then there are lines ."
> 
> Clariburnus nodded, "Indeed."
> *




Tanerus called upon his special ghostwise halfling gift of telepathy now that he was close enough to the Shadovar.

_"The Zhentarim's time is limited Perhaps certain exchanges could be arranged for "hidden" work."_ 

Clariburnus answered the halfling, the telepathy not seeming to bother him in the slightest, _"What is your name halfling?"_ 

Tanerus gave his name.

_"What do you have to offer me?"_ 

_"I am 'finder' of things lost. I oppose the efforts of the Zhentarim."_ 

_"The Zentarim are of little concern. Bane's lackeys hold nothing to the power of shadows. The collector concerns me more. Whay are you aiding this dwarf?"_ 

_"I am seeking something 'lost' which the Zhentarim helped me 'lose'. I DO NOT fail my employers."_ 

_"Employers? What were you hired to find and by whom?"_ 

_"The gnomes of Underdell hired me to find a certain gem, a large ruby. The Zhents overwhelmed me and took the gem."_

_"A dwarven axe, a gnome crystal, interesting."_

_



			Clariburnus shifted his gaze back to Tanerus, held his gaze for a moment then glanced to Amador.
		
Click to expand...


_
_"A cleric of Lolth passed through and died. I would find the identity of the collector for you in exchange for an initiation into the secrets of shadow."_

_"This is acceptable. I will be in touch soon. Gather what information you can."_



> Durgaden nodded, "Good day then."
> 
> Clariburnus turned and walked toward one wall. He held his hand out toward his glaive, and the shadows flickering in the corridor seemed to become solid. They lifted his weapon into his grasp then cloaked themselves around him. By the time he walked into the wall he seemed nothing but a shadow himself, a shadow that dissappeared into the wall.


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## Wraithdrit (Apr 15, 2003)

*More Session Five OOC Info*

Thats pretty much how Session Five's end played out. We had one conversation, then Tanerus' player and I had a second one that took place during the telepathy conversation. The Shadovar are an interesting villain race, though like many of the FR villains you can really crawl inside of them and see them from a different light if you take off the Good vs Evil glasses that confine most D&D games.

Again this session I rolled most of my dice rolls outside of my screen. We all talked about this, and generally seem to like it. I am not fudging any dice rolls, so if they die, they know the dice did it and not me!  

The elemental fight was very fun. Poor Durgaden got set on fire, but nothing was very damaged. Amador nailed a perfect use of Dismissal, making the fight a heck of a lot easier! Tanerus' player's dice were COLD (hold em up to the elementals!) and he could not hit the broadside of a barn, much less the broadside of an elemental, so opted for assists for Durgaden. Hit AC10 and give your friend a +2. Not that Durgaden really needed it, but it allowed Durgaden to shift a full five points from offense to defense (Expertise). Not that THAT really helped Durgaden much as when I hit him it was with rolls of 18s, 19s and 20s on the dice. Each Fire Elemental attack did 2d6+3 slam and 2d6 fire damage. Twice I maxed out the slam damage and one time I maxed out both the slam and fire damage in one shot! 27 points in a single hit. 

That'll leave a mark!

All in all the campagin's puzzle pieces seem to be coming together nicely. I have a nice little solo side adventure for Will to play in between now and when we game again (it will probably take place not this, Easter, weekend, but the weekend after). Then we play again the following Monday... assuming everyone's schedules permit.  

Also, I still do encourage feedback (private or public). I don't mind a chatty thread, really.  So all you lurkers, feel free to post.

- Wraith


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## Wraithdrit (Apr 28, 2003)

*Session 5.5*

*Eleint 27th, 1372 - Will's Apartment, Dagger Falls, just after dusk*

The world came into focus and Will stumbled and dropped to his knees. His stomach rolled and he nearly lost its contents. Where am I, he thought. What is going on?

Memories flooded in. Teleportation sickness was common, especially for those unused to the magical process of being completed dissembled and reassembled in a far off location. While a very quick method of travel, many preferred long hours on a horse to the pain, anguish, and sickness teleportation could enduce. Man was just not made for such things.

Will finally got to his feet and looked around. His apartment was in one piece. There was evidence that Gerick had been here. The bed was made, but not the way Will made it. The pillows were on the wrong side of the blanket. The chairs were not all the way pushed into the table. The only thing that did not seem to have been disturbed was the dresser. Will chuckled and walked to the dresser, opened a drawer and got out a change of clothes. 

Cleaned up and dressed in fresh clothing, Will set out into the streets of the town. Behind him floated a large disk laden with the spoils of his companion's and his adventures. He walked quickly to his father's villa, keeping an eye out for anyone that would want to take advantage of the situation.

There was a pair of guards outside the villa, they nodded to Will as he passed through, greeting him on his return home. As Will went further into the villa he noticed that everything was relatively quiet. He grabbed a passing servant. "Where is everyone?"

"They are headed to Shadowdale, Master Will. Its almost time for the Harvestide Festival." 

Will nodded. Yes, it was getting close. He had forgotten in all the adventures of Tethyamar. His family always went to one of the other dales for most of the festivals. It was a good opportunity to make contacts and expand their business. "Of course. Go tell the captain of the guard that I will be needing a half squad of guards."

"I'll tell him sir, but I doubt he has that many men to spare."

"Probably right. Just have him get me a pair of men then. I don't expect any trouble."

"Yes sir." The servant moved off quickly. Will went to the kitchen and grabbed a quick bite. Soon a pair of the house guards joined him. The three went off into town, the floating disc following behind them.

The first stop was Derison's shop. Derison was an alchemist and the best place in town to get components, offload the odd trinket and pick up a few enchanted odds and ends. The shop was closed, but Will knew that Derison lived in the same building and would not mind opening for the business at hand. He knocked hard on the door, and a few moments passed before the door cracked open slightly. 

Derison's features lit up with suprise when he saw who it was that had distrubed him, "Will! Come in! I thought you had left town for a while."

"I had. I'm back for a quick stop before I get back at it." The small group was led into the main room of the shop. A candlabra sat on a table lighting the various strange jars and items lining the shelves all around them.

Derison saw the floating disc and the pile laying atop it. "Well, well. Adventuring has been good to you." Derison got a bit of a far off look. "Ah... I remember those days." 

Will smiled, "Interested in the enchanted items? I've got a shield, a suit of plate armor, couple of pairs of bracers..."

Derison nodded, "Of course, I'll take them off your hands for the usual cut." Derison dug through the other contents on the disk. "I'll take it all off your hands my friend." He offered up a number that Will thought was a bit low.

"I'll be needing to get a few things as well, surely you can do better than that." 

"Well if you are buying as well, I can give you a bit more. What are you interested in?"

Will listed out the items needed and soon a bargain was struck. The larger bulkier mundane items had been converted to gems of various sizes. Goods exchanged hands and soon Will and his guards took their leave.

The next stop was the sage, Sergio. Like Derison, Sergio's place was closed for the day, but a quick knock brought the sage to the door. "Will! Come in. Its good to see you? How has Tethyamar been treating you?"

Will looked at Sergio strangely, "How did you know thats where I was going?"

"Its my job to know things. You were in here a few days before you left asking if I had anymore books on Tethyamar. It doesn't take much to put the two together."

Will smirked, "Right."

"That and Gerick told me you hooked up with that dwarf." Sergio grinned and Will rolled his eyes. "Hard to keep a secret around here eh?" The trip was not some secret event, but the easy flow of information didn't exactly make Will very comfortable. "So what can I do for you?" Sergio asked.

"I need some information about this..." Will pulled the dwarven gem out of its bag. Sergio whistled.

"Thats impressive." He began taking notes about the gem. "The runes are dwarvish. Protection and power. I would say the enchantment laid upon the gem is one similar to the items that power elven Mythals. It is intended to power a protection spell. I would say probably a long lasting protection spell cast upon the old city."

Will frowned, "Well they obviously didn't work." 

Sergio nodded, "Perhaps the gem is not in its proper place. It could very well need to be placed somewhere specific to work."

Will nodded, "We will keep an eye out for something like that. Can you find out something more?" 

Sergio kept taking notes, drawing his own rendition of the gem. At the top of the notes he wrote in big letters, "Large Enchanted Gem found in Tethyamar." He looked up and nodded, "Of course, I will do what researching I can, at my standard rate." Will nodded. "But there is something else you may want to know about. This gem is not dwarven in make."

"What? But it has dwarven runes on it, and was found in dwarven ruins." Will seemed a bit shocked and very interested.

"True enough. But these runes, while functionally correct are not carved in the dwarvish style. See the curves on the ends here and here? And the way the depth of the carving varies so as to catch the light in different places? Very nondwarvish. Dwarvish standards would have the rune carved at the same depth all around. Dwarves are very rigid in their standards. And curved ends? On dwarvish runes? Never."

"So who..." Sergio held up a hand, cutting Will off.

"See these cuts in the facets of the gem? Here and here. Very tiny, very ornate. Few races make these cuts. And even fewer did in the day this gem was crafted. What you have here is an artifact of halfling craftsmanship." Sergio beamed.

"Halfling?!" Will shook his head. 

"Legends say the last ruler of the Mines of Tethyamar was a mighty dwarven warrior who was an adventurer before a ruler. His best friend, a human elementalist or evoker. The two retired together as ruler and chamberlain, but had cut quite a name for themselves, including a fairly famous rescue of a local halfling community. Perhaps what you have here is a gift for such great deeds. I will see what else I can find out for you."

Will smiled, "Excellent. Do so, I have more to do tonight, so I will bid you good night." 

Will roused a final merchant from his off hours activities, and had his disk now laden with supplies when he stopped at the Temple of Tyr. An acolyte approached him upon entry, "Can I help you sir?"

"Yes, I need to see High Priest Tunfar. Its rather important."

"Can I say who is calling on him?"

"William Farseeker." At the mention of his family name the acolyte nodded and turned to walk off. 

Soon a large man clad in casual clothing with a large tabbard thrown over the top came from the back rooms of the temple. On the tabbard was the symbol of Tyr. Tunfar the Stout was the most powerful priest in all of Dagger Falls. 

"Will, its good to see you. What seems to be the problem?" Tunfar shook Will's hand. 

Will pulled forth the Lolthian holy symbol. "This." He presented it to Tunfar who immadietly wrinkled his nose and took the item, holding it by the cloth that Will had it wrapped in. 

"How revolting. Just what we need, more drow. Where did you get this?"

Will related his story then continued with, "More drow?"

"Aye... a few days ago a raiding band of the black skinned bastards hit some of the farms to the south of town. Slaughtered twelve farmers, burned four farms to the ground. If it hadn't been for the hand crossbow bolts and a survivor that successfully hid we would not have even known it was drow." Tunfar did not look pleased.

"With the distance between the forest you found her in and here, I would not think these events related, but I will have to confer with Randal anyways. I will take care of disposing of this for you." He closed the cloth around the holy symbol.

"Just out of curiousity, what will be done with the metal?"

Tunfar frowned, "It will be consumed with the evil it contains."

Will nodded, "As I thought. My dwarven companion will be distraught, but what must be done, must be done."

Tunfar nodded, "Good luck to you Will, and if you hear more about the dark elves, please inform me."

"I will." Will left, his guards and the disk in following him. He headed back to his apartment. He was so looking forward to sleeping in his own bed.

*Coming in a couple of hours, Session 6- Prologue. Tonight is Session 6, and that means tomorrow Session 6 logs will start.*


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## Wraithdrit (Apr 28, 2003)

*Session 6 - Prologue*

_Warning: Violence ahead, enough to at least warrant PG-13. You have been warned._

*Eleint 27th, 1372 - Throne Room, City of Shade, Midnight*

It was the busy time of the night. Throngs of shades, their followers, and companions mingled about the room. Soft light lit a few of the areas, allowing just enought ambient light that those who could not see perfectly in the dark would not run into the others. 

The guards at the door opened the twin massive double doors and in strode Clariburnus. His glaive was not visible, but there was no doubt that the shade was deadly still. No one paused in his path, scurrying quickly to the side if he happened to walk in their way. Only thirteen other shades warranted that kind of treatment.

Clariburnus strode toward the darkest portion of the room. This time it was one far corner. The Lord of Shade listened intently to a pale elven woman that stood before him. His features were not even visible, though his general hieght and form were. Despite his seeming anonymity the power he radiated demanded reverence from all those around him.

The pale elven woman continued, "... she bled out right there." The entire group erupted into laughter. Clariburnus assumed it was some sort of punch line to a witty story. How wonderful for them, enjoying the comforts of court while he works feverishly to ensure all of their survivals. 

Clariburnus stopped behind the group and waited. A few people began to talk, but something about the Lord of Shade made them stop in midsentence or even midword. He turned toward Clariburnus. "You bring news already?"

Clariburnus bowed low. He needn't kneel this time since the setting was a bit less formal. The City had strict rules on what ettiquette was appropriate at a particular time. "Yes m'lord."

The inky dark form moved toward Clariburnus. People backed quickly out of the way lowering their heads. "Tell me." A pair of guards settled on either side of the pair as they walked. The Lord of Shade was leading Clariburnus somewhere it seemed.

"The group seems rather newly formed, still getting a handle on themselves."

"Lucky amateurs then?"

"Hardly. They are deadly, m'lord. One claims ownership of the mines." Clariburnus matched his masters step, gliding just as silently and easily along as they left the throne room and ventured up a massive, ornate spiral staircase.

"Interesting, go on."

"They were easy enough to find. Follow the noise and the swath of destruction they left behind. While not always the most subtle I think they have great potential. They could definately be useful in the current situation."

"I see. And how do we guide them in the way we want them to go?" The Lord of Shade had reached a large ornate doorway. Guards in front of the double doors opened them to admit the pair. They strode across the chamber, dark boots landing on finely laid green marble floors, turned inky black from years in the Plane of Shadow.

"One of them contacted me, mentally. He wants to learn our ways." 

"Really? You think this human worthy."

"Halfling m'lord."

"Hafling?" The Lord of Shade actually chuckled. "Truely interesting."

"I have a few other ideas on how we could turn this to our advantage..." Doors to a balcony swung open and the pair stepped out onto the large stone platform. The railing was missing in places, fresh damage from the fight with the Chosen that had nearly plunged the city to the desert floor. Below workers clamored over many different buildings, repairing, building and renovating most of the city. Overhead flights of dire bats glided on the hot winds of the desert. 

The Lord of Shade took the progress in and then turned toward Clariburnus. "Very well, my son. What are these ideas?"

*Eleint 27th, 1372 - Dagger Falls, midnight*

Joseph stopped at his regular spot on the wall. He scanned the empty field below the town walls. Another quiet night on patrol. He longed to be on the patrol in the southern farm lands, hunting the drow raiders that had hit a few days ago. Randal Morn had called it a random act of violence by a people consumed with hatred for anything but themselves. Still many people wanted to see something done. 

So Morn had called for volunteers to work some overtime, patrolling the farms to the south of the river. Joseph had volunteered, but so had every other member of his unit. Needless to say he had not been picked. He sighed and rubbed the upper portions of his arms, trying to get the blood flowing a bit better.

Something crunched out in the middle of the empty field. Joseph snapped out of his daydreaming and dropped down to take cover behind the defenses, his crossbow ready and aimed at the middle of the field where he had heard the noise. He scanned slowly, but saw nothing. Finally deciding it must have been some sort of field animal Joseph relaxed and straightened a bit.

As he turned to continue his route along the wall a dark figure rose up to beside him on the wall, floating in mid air. Joseph began to spin. He began to scream. He began to lift his crossbow. He never had time to finish any of the actions. His eyes locked on the purple eyes of a female drow elf clad in finely wrought elven chainmail. She was almost beautiful. Her eyes were just a bit too angry to be pretty. Her sneer was just too vicious, and it made the rest of her features seem downright demonic. 

In a flash reality snapped back into full speed and the drow was faster than the human could ever hope to be. She lashed out with a dagger, slicing through Joseph's throat. The guard stumbled back a few steps his blood running down his neck. His crossbow clattered to the stone floor beneath his feet. His corpse followed it close behind. 

The drow hooked a rope onto the edge of the wall and dark figure after dark figure quickly clambered up onto the wall. Joseph's dead eyes stared at the figures, the only witness to group of over a dozen that breeched the town's defenses. 

The flesh around the wound in Joseph's neck sizzled, burning away as some sort of awful magic ate away at the flesh. The acid burned all the way through his neck before it finally stopped sizzling. The loose head was kicked by the groups second in command as he got his footing after climbing onto the wall. He smirked as he watched the head roll to a stop against the upper portions of the wall a few feet away.

The large group moved swiftly toward their target, ignoring the rest of the darkened houses. They reached the front of the target building without any incident. Warriors flanked the doorway. The female chanted a soft spell, then touched the closest warrior. She nodded to him and he spun and kicked in the door. Absolutely no noise was made by the door being kicked in, her enchantment masking any noise around him. Several of the drow streamed into the residence. 

Flashes of light were seen from inside, first white then red, and then nothing but silence and darkness. 

Inside the first drow was greeted by a magical trap that guarded the door. He felt the white fire burst up around him, but his natural resistance to magic held and he barreled through. The first of his companions to follow him was not as lucky. The unearthly flames leapt from the first warrior to the second. His scream was silenced by the bubble of silence around the first warrior. It was obvious to the third drow through that the spell had been expended on the warrior in front of him, nothing but a charred husk remained.

The first drow continued through the first room rushing around a large table with papers strewn about on top. He threw his shoulder into the door of the second room. It noisely broke away and the warrior lifted his hand crossbow to fire. Just outside of the silence bubble the figure standing beside the bed already had a wand pointed at him. Several globes of energy burst forth from the tip of the wand and spiralled individually into him. They easily punched through his protections and scorched thier way straight through his chest, leaving a craterous hole there. 

The dead warrior's momentum threw him forward. He slid to a halt a few feet in front of the wizard. As more drow streamed in past him the wizard attempted to use the wand again, but the silence now enveloped him as well. When the command word died on his lips, so did his chances of survival. He slowly lowered the wand as the group streemed in and fanned out, most of them pointing hand crossbows at him. 

In the front room, the female strode to the table. A pair of warriors flanked the smashed door to the outside. She looked down at the tabletop and pushed a few papers this way and that till she found one that caught her interest. She made a quick few motions with her hands, motions that where echoed along the lines till the two warriors closest the surrendered wizard saw them. They quickly lowered their hand crossbows and grabbed the wizard by each arm and hauled him forward. One snatched his wand from him and tossed it to the groups second in command. 

The male examined the wand, snorted silently and tucked it into his belt.

The human was forced to his knees in front of the drow female. She turned towards him, and smiled. She made more motions with her hands, then pointed to the carcass of the drow with the silence spell still in effect on him. A pair of the other warriors grabbed him and tossed the carcass into a corner, freeing the woman and her captive from the effects of the spell.

"Where did you learn of this?" She held up the parchment and stabbed the image of the gem with a single finger.

Sergio paled, "A... a farmer said that ..."

She spoke alien words quickly and easily, and touched his forehead. Pain ripped through his mind and a single deep wound ripped open along his forehead, back into his scalp and down his nose and through one cheek. She purred, "Try again."

He grit his teeth against the pain. If he screamed she would kill him instantly. He had to get away. He had to warn everyone. "An... adventurer..."

She drew one finger along the opened cut, "Name and location?"

He wimpered and nearly passed out at the pain. "I can't..." She drew a dagger out and spun the blade in front of him. He could see the acid clinging to its surface, it sizzled when exposed to the air. 

"This goes into the wound next. Tell me now, and I may kill you quickly." Sergio had not been an adventurer for long. It was cause he hated discomfort. He had retired with his meager earnings and lived a life of comfortable research. Pain, distress, and torture were just not things that he stood up against well.

He quickly gave up the information. "His name is William Farseeker... he is one of the Farseeker sons.... his family villa is on the east side of town... and he has an apartment on Westcrook Road. He said he got it in Tethyamar... he must have teleported into town to return so quickly, he has probably teleported back by now, he has the gem... you may as well go to Tethyamar if you want it." He looked hopefully at her, thinking with that much information she might spare his life.

She smiled, "Good..." She looked up to a pair of mutilated forms that perched in the corner. Long toungues hissed out of their mouth and bloody, visible muscles writhed over their forms. They  stood taller under her gaze, awaiting her command. "You may have him." Sergio wrenched around to look at the creatures and began to scream, one of the creatures swiped a clawed hand across his face before the scream ever reached his lips. The drow holding Sergio let go and backed off as the two creatures consumed the poor sage quickly and efficiently. 

The female turned to her second in command. "I'm going to assume that this family villa has a vault like our villas do. I will go there with the primary team and find the gem. That is where I would have kept it. You take the secondary team and make sure he is not at the apartment. Be quick and we will meet back at the crypts. Above all else, find me this gem!" She handed him the blood spattered page with the gem drawn on it, so as to recognize what he was looking for. 

He nodded and whispered, "Yes mistress."


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## Wraithdrit (Apr 29, 2003)

*Session 6*

*Ruins of Tethyamar
Eleint 28th, 1372 
Late Morning* 

The three companions hated the waiting more than anything else. Tanerus sat in one corner, fidgeting with the corner of his cloak. Durgaden leaned on the wall near the door, fully clad in his armor, his shield strapped to his arm, the head of his axe resting on the floor, the haft leaning beside him on the wall. They waited for Will to return. It should be any minute.

Tanerus spoke first, "Maybe something happened to him."

Durgaden frowned, "Nothing be happening to him. He went to town."

Amador sat on the edge of the ancient bed. The stuffing was long rotted away, but the edge made a good place to sit. "I don't think anything has happened to him." He got a sort of far off look.

"Why, your god be telling you?"

"No... I think I sense him coming." Amador could feel the charge settling on the room, then with a flash of weird light Will appeared in the center of the room. 

The form of their friend seemed to waver a bit. Amador frowned. There was an earthly scream as if some other worldly creature was trying to rip through with Will. Will was obviously still fine tuning the spell, his fingers moving in intricate patterns even as he seemed to fade in and out of existance. Finally his form solidified.

Will promptly fell to the ground gagging. Tanerus and Durgaden lept forward but Amador called to them. "Its okay... its only teleportation sickness. He should be fine."

Will recovered fairly quickly. When he finally was seated in a chair, sipping on his waterskin, he looked to his companions and frowned. "We have a problem my friends."

Durgaden asked first, "What problem?"

"Drow attacked Dagger Falls. They were after the gem." Will fished it out of his pack and tossed it to Durgaden.

Tanerus looked a bit confused. "What do you mean? How could they have known you had it, much less were in town?"

Will held up a hand. "Let me start from the beginning...

"I made it into town with little trouble. The shopping went fine, we can go over that in a minute. I also went to a sage friend of mine. Sergio. He had good information on the gem..."

Will related to the party what he had found out about the gem, then continued with his story. "I and my guards went on a few more errands, then went back to my apartment. That is when they struck. They shot Terin in the back as he was entering into the building. Malik managed to slam the door shut, but they just broke in through the windows in the front and back of the house. I was able to quickly kill the two that came in the front, but the one that came in the back was a different story."

"I was able to easily see through his invisibility with one of my spells, but most of the rest of my spells just bled right off of him. He tried to snatch the gem and actually had it in his hands when I finally managed to punch a spell through his natural resistances."

"He dropped quickly after that. I later found out that they had attacked not only my apartment, but my parents villa as well. One of the ones I killed had this on him." Will pulled out the parchment of notes that Sergio had taken. It had blood splattered across it. 

"Sergio died because of what he knew of us. Somehow they know about us, that we have the gem, and that we are from Dagger Falls. Now they have a name to attach to us as well. My name."

Durgaden frowned. "The gem, even if made by halflings, is the property of these mines and will remain here. The drow will have to pry it from my cold dead hands if they want it."

Tanerus smirked, "That may be the point." The attempt at humor was mostly lost on the dark situation at hand. "So do you think this is the other force the Shadovar was talking about?"

Will blinked, "Shadovar?" 

Tanerus quickly related the events that had transpired while Will was away.

Will nodded, "That makes sense then, yes."

Amador shook his head, "So we have a halfling gem and a dwarven axe wanted by drow who are working with the Zhentarim who hired the Thayans, all of whom the Shadovar wish to know about, and possibly prevent." He sighed. "This just gets better every day."


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## Gilgalad (Apr 30, 2003)

More More ! ! !

_____________
Durgaden
9th Level Dwarven Warrior/Defender
Soon to be King of the Reclaimed Mines of Tethyamar...
...well...Head Beermyster anyway ;-p


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## Wraithdrit (Apr 30, 2003)

*Session 6 - Part 2*

Tanerus cough lightly, "Actually there is more..." Everyone looked to the halfling, "I've heard rumor that the Zhentarim also stole a gnomish treasure... some sort of crystal." He fidgeted a little under everyone's scrutiny but the center of attention quickly shifted to Amador as he spoke up.

"That must be why Corellian has led me here."

Durgaden blinked, "To get a gnome's crystal?"

Amador smirked, "No. A circlet dedicated to Corellian."

"Did the Zhents steal it too?" asked Tanerus.

"No... drow. It happened near the western edge of Cormanthor. Hand crossbow bolts littered the body of a dear friend of mine who tended a shrine. His circlet, an item of some power was taken. The tracks did not lead into the forest as I would have thought. Instead they led west... towards Dagger Falls."

Will leaned forward, "I'm here looking for a book. Its called the Book of Eternal Flames. It was written by the late human chancellor and advisor to last King of Tethyamar."

Everyone looked at Durgaden. "Don't look at me, I'm just here to get me mines back!" He paused. "Well, and anything they looted and sold from me mines needs to be returned..."

"So now its a gnomish crystal, an elven circlet, a halfling gem, and a dwarven axe. And we know they were looking for the book as well, so might as well add that to the list. Someone is starting a collection," concluded Will. "Its time we finish what we started with the Zhentarim then get to the bottom of this."

The companions gathered their gear together and set out. They paused at the exit outside. Tanerus slipped out into the ruined city and snuck toward the Zhentarim camp. He was able to quickly ascertain that the camp had been dismantled and everyone had been brought inside. A large metal portcullis blocked the entrance to this set of mines. Tanerus returned and reported what he saw.

The party slipped into the ruins, making their way toward the portcullis but were soon warned of an oncoming lone figure by Will's owl. Durgaden met the figure in the midst of the ruins, "I'm hoping you have an invitation to me mines!" 

The figure stopped and pulled back her hood. Instantly he recognized her as the part demon sorceress they had battled in the hills while travelling from Dagger Falls. She held up her hands in peace. Her voice was exotic, sounding like two different people talking at the same time, one voice was husky the other silky smooth.  "We need to talk. I come in peace."

Durgaden frowned, "Talk then, but nothing funny, or I'll split ye in two." The two came a bit closer together. 

"You are heading into a trap, I want to make sure you are as prepared as you can be."

"Why?"

"I want you to win."

"Why would you want that? You work for them."

"No. Working for them would imply willingness. I'm compelled to do the bidding of Xandos. Long ago, my ancestors kicked your ancestors out of the mines. They beget offspring that beget offpsring that beget me. When the Zhentarim uncovered the mines, Xandos got the drop on me, my brother, and three cousins. He learned our true names, and helds us bound into his service. Kill him, and I will be free, and will leave these mines and never return."

The companions conferred for a moment. Durgaden asked, "Does he know you are out here? What kind of defenses do they have? Tell us what we are getting into."

"I don't know everything but here is what I can tell you...." Tursa leaned in and began to tell them everything she knew.

Will waited till Tursa was finished and had departed, "Alright, here is the plan..."

***

Darkness had fallen and Yulgar was starting to get nervous. He had signed up for military service with the Zhentarim to get out of life as a farm hand, but getting slaughtered was not a part of the bargain. Rumors had spread through his unit. Two captains, a lieutenant, a slew of orcs, two seargents, and a pair of tigers had all been slaughtered by whoever it was that was out there. Now he had the task of pulling the night shift of guard duty. 

Yulgar stood at an arrow slit, his shortbow in his hand. Three of his squadmates stood at similar slits. The slits were mounted in a pair of massive iron doors. The only way to open the doors was by using the winches mounted in the walls beside each door. The guards could barely make out the outline of the portcullis through the arrow slits. It sat over a hundred feet away at the other end of the dark entrance cavern.

Two positions over Gornim started, "What was that?" Everyone lifted their bows into position. Something was racing across the cavern, but as it moved it seemed to just sink into the earth. Then there it was again, at the winch to the portcullis on the other side of the cavern. It was some sort of small earthen creature, an elemental perhaps. "Its cranking open the portcullis!" 

Behind the archers, Sgt Hulgin heard the reports and yelled, "Fire!" Each of the archers let loose. Two of the arrows sailed wide, but two embedded in the things back. Something small darted up under the portcullis and raced up the wall, dissappearing into shadows. 

Still the portcullis cranked upward. "Reload! Aim! What the - ?!" Sgt Hulgin cried out as another of the earthen creatures appeared up through the stone, inside the iron doors! A third elemental appeared as well. Both turned and started cranking open the doors. Yulgar and his fellow archers reloaded and aimed at the new threats.

Inside the cavern a dwarven voice was heard bellowing as its owner raced across the cavern, "Time to vacate me mines!"

*** 

Tanerus continued to skitter up the wall, the effects of the potion of spider climbing allowing him to stick easily to the surface. 

Durgaden slammed into the doors, putting his back to the door then peeking through an arrow slit chuckling at the chaos Will's summoned elementals were causing inside. The doors began to open, inches at a time.

Will and Amador stayed at the portcullis till it was a full six feet up. "Thats good enough," Will told the elemental, "Head inside." The elemental nodded and skittered toward the iron doors. Fighting could be heard from within. 

Durgaden grinned as the doors opened a full foot. The grin vanished when the doors stopped moving. He threw himself sideways at the opening and quickly shifted into his defensive stance on the other side. There were at least five Zhentarim on there, plus one of the acolytes of Bane that Tursa had told them about.  The elementals were falling away into the earth, dispatched by the enemy forces. Thats okay, they had done their job.

A mage, probably Xandos apprentice thought Durgaden, appeared twenty feet ahead of him. He unleashed a bolt of lightning that coursed through Durgaden. The dwarf had managed to deflect a good portion of the energy with his shield and by ducking down, but still his skin burned and his hair singed in the lightning. 

The Zhentarim quickly surrounded Durgaden, locked their shields and began to stab at him with their short swords. In his stance, with his back to the doors, he was practically invulnerable. Their swords bounced off his armor and shield, but could not find an opening.

Tanerus continued to skitter along the ceiling until he saw a large shape hanging from the dark cavernous ceiling. He looked down and saw Will and Amador jogging across the cavern, putting their backs to the large doors, ready to aid Durgaden. They were out of the range of his telepathy, and if he screamed out a warning, then whatever it was that was there would know he was here. He crept toward it along the ceiling.

Xandos, strapped to his saddle, his dire bat clinging to the ceiling, finished his first spell. The spell rained giant shards of ice and blasts of cold down onto the trio of companions near the door. 

Amador was quick to retaliate, despite the pain of the ice shards had caused him. He called upon the might and fury of Corellian, invoking a massive column of flame to rip through Xandos and his mount. The skymage screamed in pain, the mount let go of the ceiling and quickly took flight to try and avoid the next attack.

Durgaden was blasted by the ice, but was forced to ignore it in favor of retaliating on the Zhentarim that were still surrounding him. His axe took down two of the foes quickly.

Will chose to ignore Xandos. After all the elemental protection spell against fire that he had Amador cast on him would prevent fireballs from hurting him and the spell immunity to ice storms and lightning bolts just about sealed his protections. He had thrown up a spell to make his skin hard as stone, just to be on the safe side. Instead of contronting Xandos, he lobbed a fireball through the opening in the doors.

It erupted between the line of Zhentarim warriors, the skymage's apprentice, and the acolyte. Durgaden saw the fireball arc over his head in time to have brought up his shield and brace. Flames licked around the shield and the heat singed his arm, but he was none the worse for wear.

When he lowered the shield, the smoke and fire receeded revealing the corpses of all of his foes laid out before him. Durgaden frowned, "Hey! Those were... I was gonna... Oh well." He turned to the closest Zhentarim looked him over. The Zhentarim warrior groaned and stirred slightly. "No invitation!" bellowed Durgaden. He slammed his axe into the fallen foes head, making sure the fireball's work was completed.

Tanerus skittered up closer to the skymage. He was almost to a point where he could jump on the back of the dire bat... just a little closer...

Xandos finished a spell and dissappeared, mount and all, in a quick flash. Tanerus cursed outloud.

The companions quickly gathered and took stock. About a fourth of the Zhentarim aligned forces that were supposed to be left in Tethyamar now lay dead. The companions had broken into the mine, now it was just a matter of cleaning out the rest of the vermin.


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## Gilgalad (May 2, 2003)

*More !!!*

Ok already, the boards are working again today...so where's the rest of the bloody story already ?

Must....have....fix....today

Durgaden
9th level Dwarven Warrior/Defender
Note...STILL 9TH LEVEL...What's the deal here ? ;-)


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## Wraithdrit (May 2, 2003)

*Session 6 - Log 3 of 3*

The companions moved forward quickly. Prior to the first fight, Will had scouted the area through the use of form of scrying spell, and they knew that before they got through the doors, at least one Zhentarim warrior had gotten away. That combined with dissappearance of the Skymage Xandos guaranteed the rest of the Zhentarim were waiting for them somewhere, aware of thier presence.

That or Durgaden's bellows and the explosions of magic would have warned them. 

The group moved forward quickly, their beneficial spells still holding. The passed barracks on either side of the large natural center carvern only to eventually reach a point where the cavern split in each direction. A wide swath of stairs led up to the left, a small set led down to the right. The cavern continued in front of them, and they could see a pair of doors ahead, so the companions decided to move on, clearing out the main floor first. 

Tanerus listened at the door and shook his head. He slipped a little further down the corridor, checking to see if anything indicated a trap.

Durgaden sighed, "Oh, by Klangadin's beard..." He stomped up and kicked in the door on the right. Behind it was a corridor, several Zhentarim defending a bend in the corridor. They quickly brought their bows to bear and fired at the surprised dwarf. The arrows bounced off his shield as Durgaden strode toward them. Behind the first two was the woodsman with the scourge that had disarmed Durgaden the last time they had met.

Tanerus moved to the other door, about to check it when the door burst open from inside, a massive demon blooded ogre standing on the otherside. Behind him were several more Zhentarim.

Amador and Will were back in the main cavern, watching the fight break out ahead. They were startled first to see a pair of figures with backwards bending knees and small horns appear in the corridor at Tanerus' and Durgaden's backs. They were about to shout a warning, when cries where from up the large staircase. Into the light came charging a pair of skeletons, a pair of commanding Zhentarim, a priest of Bane, an acolyte of Bane, and Xandos the Skymage.

The trap had been sprung, and the fight was on. Will quickly called up a wall of fire, blocking off the force coming from down the steps. He was too late to catch the female commander of the Zhentarim, she was almost already on top of him. 

Tanerus fired off his hand crossbow, cursing as the ogre ignored the poisoned dart. He only had one more poisoned dart left. Scrambling as the demonkin rogue appeared behind him, he tumbled off to the side, escaping the reach of the large part-demon ogre. The ogre and his companions kept after him, closing all of the companions but Durgaden into a tighter and tighter knot. 

Amador called upon Corellion to aid all of his companions and aflict their enemies. Swirls of divine energy arched from the priest into each of the sides warriors, emboldening his friends and cursing his enemies.

The wall of flame died quickly under the dispelling magic of one of the Banites. The other attempted to freeze Amador's muscles, but he managed to shake the effect off.

Small globes of energy appeared near Xandos and arched toward Amador, threatening to slam into. At the last second they swirled toward a brooch he had picked up off Xandos' dead apprentice after the last fight. The hit the brooch and with a soft pop, dissappeared harmlessly.

Will backed up under the assault of the mine's commander. She screamed and slammed her sword into his magical shielding over and over. Most of the blows were not even able to connect, and the one that did barely cut throne his stone like skin.

Durgaden spun on the rogue behind him and cut him down in two quick easy cuts. He spun back in time to parry and block the blows at his back and kept fighting to secure at least this one corridor. He can rescue the others later, the dwarf thought to himself.

Tanerus ended a roll right behind the Zhentarim commander and lashed out with his blade, digging it deep in her back. She screamed, weakened severely by the blow.

The skeletons lept forward now that the wall of fire had dissappear, and attempt to latch onto Will and Amador. Will finally managed to cast off one of his empowered bolts of lightning. It cut a deep swath through their foes, blasting one skeleton into nothing, ripping through both the commanding Zhentarim and finally slamming into the two priests and Xandos. 

Xandos screamed as the bolt surged through him, then fell forward dead. He was joined by both the commanders.

Will was going to pay for his attack though, several of the ogre's comapanions rushed him. While they had been chasing Tanerus down, Will had proven what kind of threat he could be. Durgaden dropped another Zhentarim in the corridor he was fighting in, but he could not get a clean shot on the woodsman. 

Amador had pulled out his sword and was fighting against the remaining skeleton when the demonic ogre charged at this side. The elf retreated a step or too. There were just too many of them. The odds needed to be evened. He looked at the body of Xandos. The mage was dead, the demonkin should be freed from bondage. Had he given their true names to someone else? Was Tursa willing to sacrifice them to make her getaway swift?

A cry from down the corridor revealed the answer. Tursa flowed forward turning to lob a ball of fire into the corridor Durgaden fought in. Tumbling past her was another tiefling, this one in red robes. She had said her brother would be very recognizable. What was unfamiliar about him was his fighting technique. He seemed unarmed, till he left the ground behind the three zhentarim on Will and kicked each in the head indiviadualy before lightly returning to the ground. All three fell forward, dead or unconscious. 

The tiefling monk spun on the ogre who recognized his kin and backed up a few steps. 

Amador slashed again at the skeleton, this time knocking its skull from its shoulders. 

Durgaden was a bit worse for wear afted Tursa' fireball, but she had managed to take out all but him and the woodsman in the corridor, so he did not mind the scorch marks on his armor. 

The only threat left standing was the woodsman and the priest of Bane. The priest began to cast, but was cut short by the small hand crossbow bolt that thudded into his chest. Tanerus grinned, perfect shot. He watched in amusement as the drow sleep poison worked its magic, dropping the priest to the ground and then into a deep sleep.

Durgaden stalked the woodsman, but a soft hand on his shoulder stayed his arm. Tursa looked at the woodsman and said, "Why don't you put your weapon away." Durgaden almost put his away too. It sounded like a good idea at the time, but he managed to shake off the effects of the charm that Tursa was using on the woodsman. The effect was so strong it had almost caught him as well. The woodsman was like putty in her hands. She commanded him to lower his weapon and he did. 

Quickly the two groups gathered. On one side was the four companions, on the other side was Tursa, her brother the tiefling monk, the woodsman, and the demonic ogre. She spoke quickly, "My kin and I are leaving, and we are taking this one with us." She pointed to the woodsman.

Looking down at the sleeping priest of Bane Will nodded. "We can get our information we need from this one." 

Durgaden held a hand out to Tursa, "Thanks for holding up your end of the bargain. When this is all done and the mines are moving ore again, perhaps you will return to visit your old home one day. But only under a bit more... peaceful circumstances."

Tursa nodded, "We will see." She turned towards the woodsman and narrowed her eyes at him. "Did you have something you wanted to say?"

He shook his head and bit his lower lip. As the strange crew of four walked out of the mines, Durgaden lowered the portcullis behind them. The woodsman stopped and turned whispered softly before departing, "I will give Master Clariburnus your regards." With that he turned and caught up with Tursa and her kin.

Amador smirked, "Clariburnus?"

Tanerus nodded, "He said he had someone on the inside..."

Durgaden chuckled and lifted a mug of ale, "Well friends, we finally got back me mines!" He tossed back the ale and drank a large gulp or ten.

Will looked a bit pensive, "Aye, but we only have even more questions now than before. I have a feeling we have a long journey still ahead of us before we reach the bottom of all of this..."


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## med stud (May 2, 2003)

I like it!


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## Wraithdrit (May 7, 2003)

*Session 7 - Prologue*

*Home of Randal Morn
Dagger Falls
Eleint 28th, 1372
Early Morning
(The morning following the drow raids)* 

The fire had already been burning in the fireplace for several hours, despite the very early hour. It had been lit by servants after the entire household had been roused near midnight. The drow had attacked the town this time, things were getting very serious.

Randal Morn walked into the room wearing his leather armor, his sword strapped to his side. His three advisors had gathered to discuss the morning events. Nearest the fire sat the tall broad shouldered form of Tunfar the Stout. The High Priest of Tyr was dressed in a full suit of chain and plate armor. Beside him lay his shield and mace, neither of which had seen battle in a few weeks. 

Standing near the door was a skinny middle aged man with weathered skin, also clad in leather armor. He was Dulwar the town's leatherworker. Unknown to most he was also an accomplished scout and spy. He stood up from the spot where he was leaning on the wall when Randal entered.

Seated across from Tunfar was Shevaril Starcloak. The half-elven abjurer was well known in town as one of the most powerful wizards in the parts. That was what she spoke of first. "My lord, young Will Farseeker has been busy. The spells he used today... they are out of even my reach." She seemed downright worried.

Randal was able to quickly connect the dots, "And he barely survived his encounter with the drow. Which means we have a very large problem."

"The drow only went after the Farseekers, m'lord. They seemed very deliberate." Dulfar held a small leather working tool in one hand, he spun it at the end of each sentence, absent mindedly playing with the tool while he spoke. "That leaves three conclusions. Either the Farseekers have something the drow want, the Farseekers have done something the drow wish to avenge, or..."

Tunfar knew the third answer, "Or the drow know that Will Farseeker is the biggest threat to them in this town and are trying to take him out to make the town easier to subjugate."

Randal frowned, "I'm not sure which it is, but I don't think it matters. The Farseekers are well respected members of this community. If the drow wish a fight, a fight they will have. We will stand by the Farseeker family through this."

Tunfar frowned, "I might know what they are after, m'lord. Young Farseeker brought me an amulet, a holy symbol of their spider goddess. He wanted it properly disposed of."

Randal raised his eyebrows, "Did you?"

"Not yet."

"Do so as soon as possible. The last thing we want is them getting their hands on it, or worse ransacking the temple trying to find it. Who all knows that you have it?"

"Us and Farseeker."

"Good. We need to work a bit more on the plan for the next time the drow decide to make a visit." Randal walked over to a side table and poured himself a glass of water from a pitcher that sat there.

An unfamiliar voice cut through the pause, its dark tone, and otherworldly feel sent fear racing through each of the room inhabitants. "You have another problem to worry about." A black figure stood in one corner, barely visible. It seemed unarmed and unarmored, but it was hard to tell."

All four of the room's inhabitants reacted quickly. Fuses were short, sleep had been lacking, and the stress had strained all of them. This intrusion, but something so dark was not taken lightly.

Tunfar snatched up his mace and kicked his chair out at the figure as he stood. Shevaril stood and pulled a long slender wand from her belt. Randal drew his sword and called out for his guards. Dulfar slipped to one side, switching his tool for a short sword hidden behind his cloak.

The shadowy form, the Prince of Shade Calriburnus shook his head and waved one hand in front of him, conjuring up a dark black disc of a shield, "Don't be foolish, I wish you no harm."

Tunfar did not seem to want any of the Prince's explanations, "Skulking around in the dark! Spying on our meeting, after what you people did in Cormyr you think we will believe that?" He growled and lunged at the shade, but by the time his mace arrived where the shade had been, the shade was gone. 

Shevaril spoke a soft word and globes of energy arced toward where the shade had been, flying from the tip of the wand. As the shade slipped into shadow to avoid the cleric's mace, he reappeared on the otherside of the room and the missiles changed course, arcing back toward him. They impacted his shadowy shield and dissappeared harmlessly. 

Randal turned and strode toward the shade, "I suggest you leave now, there are only so many places in this room for you to hide." The four were fanning out.

Clariburnus was losing his patience. "I suggest you wisen up, Morn! I have information you need." Tunfar grabbe up his holy symbol and began to mutter soft words to Tyr. Clariburnus threw a hand toward the cleric and the magic the cleric was summoning was dispelled.

Shevaril had waited for that, she started her spell then held a hand out toward the shade. Nothing happened, the spell energy just flowed off the shade with no effect. A spell designed to harden his muscles and render him immobile had no effect whatsoever. 

Randal and Dunfar flanked the shade, bothing holding thier swords at the ready. 

Clariburnus had enough of this game. "I warned you." He took a half step toward Randal, and when Dunfar reacted Clariburnus was ready. The prince spun in mid step, grabbed Dunfar's wrist and slammed it against a wall. His free hand had pulled out some sort of shadowy dagger. The shade plunged the dagger into Dunfar's wrist. The scout screamed as his wrist was pinned to the wall. He dropped his weapon and was grabbing at his arm with his free hand.

Randal tried to take advantage of the situation. He lept forward striking at the prince's back. Randal's blade cut deep, but Clariburnus just spun, his black blood fading into nothingness as it flung from the open wound. The shade slapped aside the Mayor's weapon and then spoke a few dark ancient words of magic.

Shevaril screamed out, "No!" She recogonized the deadly spell. One touch and Randal would be killed instantly. Clariburnus grabbed Randal by the throat and slammed him against the wall, his other hand glowed blackish blue with the deadly magic. Randal's eyes went wide as the prince thrust a finger at him, the deadly magic crackling softly.

But Clariburnus stopped an hairs width from Morn's forehead. The magic energy snapped and crackled, playing between the finger and its intended target. But the touch was not made. The attack was held back. Clariburnus growled, "Do I have your attention yet?"

Randal choked from the grip on his neck but managed to whisper, "Yes."

"A fairly large contingent of Zhentarim are travelling along the road toward Tethyamar. Your friends will be overrun easily with such numbers. Call your troops up, ambush the Zhentarim in the mountain pass."

Tunfar stood back but gripped his mace tightly, "If we do that, we will be defenseless against the drow!"

"If you don't do it, your friends, the only people in these parts capable of taking on the drow, will be killed. You stand no chance against the dark elves, not with out the heroes of Tethyamar."

Randal swallowed, "Alright... we'll do it."

Clariburnus released Morn, turned and stepped into the shadows dissappearing as he said, "Good, and know this. Those heroes are the kingdom in the stone that they are carving out is the only thing that stands between you and the Empire of Shade. They are also the only thing that stands between you and certain destruction at the hands of the drow. I suggest you remember that." With that the shade was gone. 

*At the same time, across town, in the home of the dwarf Gregor Stoutbeard...* 

Gregor looked at Nileger in disbelief. "He did it then?"

Nileger nodded, his beard flapping about, "Aye. Or rather he is about to. Me Mara does work at the temple. They say that Farseeker, who went with Alepounder, was seen at the temple, and at a couple of the shops in the merchant ward. Was trading ancient coin. Dwarven coin, for services. They are doing it Gregor! Alepounder is truly the one."

Gregor nodded. He remembered Alepounder from a few days earlier. He knew the boy, or rather, knew of him. He looked much like his father had, and his grandfather before him. It was obvious that the boy didn't know the truth though. He would have to fix that. "Very well then Nileger. Send out the call. We will need to be leaving as soon as we can."

Nileger smiled, "I already did, sir. I already did. Your pony awaits and the lads are all ready to go."

Gregor was mad at first. How dare Nileger make the call without him commanding it? But if what he said was true, then the outcome was inevitable. His frown slackened and he smiled at Nileger. "Out you fiend, I need to gather me things. Then I will join you and the boys outside."

Nileger smiled and nodded and was out the door fairly quickly. 

Gregor turned and walked over to his chest. He pulled out the key and unlocked it, then lifted the sturdy lid and looked down at the contents. He pulled out his warhammer, smiling at the feel of the haft in his hand after so many years. He swung it back and forth a few times then looked down at the armor in the chest. 

The breastplate looked just like the one Alepounder had been wearing, only his was merely steel, where Alepounder wore one crafted of Adamantine. As he pulled on the armor he glanced down and saw the small box. He swallowed away the lump that grew in his throat. He lifted the box out and slowly opened it. The light of the fire glinted off the item inside. It practically lit Gregor's face. 

He softly stroked one finger along the edge and nodded. It was time. He closed the box, latched it and tucked it under his arm. 

Gregor turned and strode out, seeing the boys waiting for him, "Alrighty boys! Lets go home!" The cheer the crew let out woke a few people in the surrounding neighborhood, but the dwarves could not care less.

*Later that afternoon, in the mountains west of Dagger Falls...* 

Captain Lowe grunted in pain, the arrow had pierced his armor and tore into his shoulder. Below in the pass the fight still raged on. His own archers, what were left of them, were trying to pick out Zhentarim targets toward the back. The Zhentarim archers in the back of the melee were returning fire. The Zhentarim infantry had formed a nearly impenetrable wall of shields and was slowly dispatching the Dagger Falls militia with practiced ease. 

Lowe shook his head. "We need to call a retreat..." He looked at his second in command. "Call the retreat."

The young female Sgt Serin nodded and lifted the small horn to her lips, she inhaled sharply and was about to blow out the notes to retreat when a deep low horn sounded below. She let the horn fall from her lips a bit and stared down in the pass, trying to discern where the noise came from.

Lowe frowned, "What you waiting for, call the retreat!" He snatched at the horn. 

Serin shook her head and kept the horn out of reach, "Captain, look!" She pointed at the back opening of the valley, behind the Zhentarim line. A group of at least twenty dwarves all riding war ponies came pouring out of the opening, the leader waved his warhammer and then let it crash down atop the head of a fleeing Zhentarim. The head popped like a melon. "Reinforcements, sir!" The deep horn that the second dwarf carried blasted its note again across the battlefield.

The back of the Zhentarim line started to collapse. A few of the Zhentarim were still fighting, but as their missile and magic support started to wane their line began to crumble even faster.

Serin smiled and quipped, "Congratulations sir, we did it!" She looked over at the slumped form of her commander. "Sir?" She pushed the captain back and he fell onto the ground, a crossbow bolt buried in middle of face. Serin frowned then turned to archers beside her, "Time to mop up boys." She lept from her perch and began striding toward the battle, stopping every few feet to loose an arrow into a Zhentarim combatant.

After the battle had finished Serin met with Gregor and Nileger. Gregor nodded, "Fine ambush ye had going lass, sorry about your captain."

Serin nodded, "He was a fine man, and will be missed. So you are headed back to Tethyamar?"

"Aye, gotta see if the lad needs any help mopping up the mess the hordes left so many years ago. You and yours are welcome to come with us. We could use the help."

Serin fidgeted a little. "We should get back to Dagger Falls, they will be needing us there. The drow could attack at any time."

Gregor shook his head, "And miss all the fun? Come now lass, we could use a few good archers to help out, me boys is good with axe and hammer, but bows just aren't our thing."

Serin thought back to her orders. Randal had told her to stop the Zhentarim at all cost. He had said that helping out the Heroes of Tethyamar was paramount to the survival of Dagger Falls. "Very well, I will come, and I will ask for volunteers who wish to join us, but I will not order anyone to come."

"Fair enough." Gregor grinned and looked over to Nileger and nodded.


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## Gilgalad (May 7, 2003)

*Hmmmmmm.......*

Me thinks an ultra heavy dose of extra stout ale might help jar the memories from me head that seem to be missing....like...

Who are Gregor Stoutbeard, Nileger and the boys ?

Did me pappy or gran-pappy every say somethin about the mines other than about mak'n ale ?

Is Sgt. Serin good lookin' and does she like Dwarven men ?

Ahhhh...can't wait to discover the answers tonight  


Durgaden Alepounder
9th level Dwarven Fighter/Defender
King of the Reclaimed Mines of Tethyamar


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## Wraithdrit (May 7, 2003)

Gregor, Nileger, and the boys are the dwarves from Dagger Falls that refused to go with you to the mines on day one. Seems they wanted to see some results before committing to what was always considered a suicidal mission.

Oh and it was your father that was from the mines, and no, he never talked much about them. Just said that he missed them and that one day he wanted to go back but that he couldn't. Never wanted to talk about it much. Refused to talk about it really.

- Wraith


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## Wraithdrit (May 8, 2003)

*Session 7 - Log 1*

*Fortress of Tethyamar
Eleint 28th, 1372
Late in the evening*

Having searched the rest of the caverns of the mines, the group assembled around their prisoner, a priestess of Bane. She awoke slowly and looked around, instantly assessing her situation.

"What would you do with me now?"

Durgaden spoke first, "That depends on what you are willing to tell us. Tell us what you know, and we will ransom you back to your people."

Tanerus smirked, "Minus all your goodies of course." The priestess frowned. They had striped her down to her garments that she wore under her armor, and tied her hands behind her back.

"Very well. I agree. What is you wish to know, I will answer as truthfully as I can." She looked between the companions.

Durgaden was quick to ask, "What be ye doing here?"

"Administering to the needs of the followers of Bane."

"And what were the Zhentarim doing here? What use is this place to you?" Durgaden saw he was going to have to be fairly literal. She said she would answer him, but that did not mean she would volunteer extra information.

"Command and control."

"But you control nothing out here."

"The desert road is something. The Zhentarim is split between east and west. Down the middle is Cormyr, we need a way to move troops and caravans from one side to the other, that road is the way."

"Not any more it isn't!" Durgaden grinned.

"You think that I am the last that will come? Reinforcements are already enroute. You think we did not send for some after the first few attacks you made? You will lose these mines."

"I think not! They are my mines now."

"We will see about that."

Will interrupted the debate, "Who has the axe?"

"What axe?"

Durgaden sputtered, "The axe from the middle of town? Where is it?"

"The underdark somewhere I suppose. Kara sold it. She was meeting with someone, selling them something." The priestess shifted a little.

"To drow?" asked Will.

"I believe so, I wasn't directly involved."

"We will be getting it back, along with the rest of what you stole from me mines." Durgaden huffed a little.

The priestess looked at Durgaden with a scowl and asked, "Just who are you anyways?"

"The new owner of the mines!" Durgaden puffed up his chest.

"And your name...?" The venom in her voice was obvious.

"Durgaden, Durgaden Alepounder."

She snorted, "Right. Are we through here?"

"I suppose. You try to escape and I will have no choice but to kill you."

"Fine. You have my word, I will not try to escape. I will require sustenance."

"You will have it."

The companions locked her away in an officer's room, then settled down for the night. The gates were shut, and Tanerus had removed the cranks to make it harder to get in.

Early the next morning a noise was heard from the front portcullis. The companions readied themselves and went to see what it was. A few humans in Dagger Falls militia uniforms and a large group of dwarves stood on the otherside of the gate.

Durgaden called to them, "What do you want?"

"Durgaden? Its Gregor Stoutbeard from Dagger Falls, I come looking for Durgaden Alepounder!"

"Well you found him!" Durgaden motioned for Tanerus to fix the crank. "What do you want with me?"

"Let me in son, I've been riding all night and I'm sore as can be. I have something for ye." 

Soon the gate opened and Gregor and the boys moved inside at Durgaden's invitation. They made their way to the mess hall and readied some of the Zhentarim provisions.

"Mighty nice of them to stock the larders for you boys," joked Gregor.

"Here, here." Durgaden grinned, "But I have me own stout to go with!" He raised a mug, and the rest of the dwarves joined him. "So what have you for me."

Gregor looked down suddenly, he was obviously not very proud of something he had done. He looked old, even for a dwarf. "I.. I uh, have a letter." He pulled an ancient worn letter from a pouch, it was tied by a string. It has obviously been read many, many times. "I was sent this by King Ghallin before the fall of the mines."

Durgaden looked at Gregor. That would make him several hundred years old. Durgaden's father had lived here, and had left the mines sometime around the fall the mines, though Durgaden never really got the exact details. His father, Durgen Alepounder, had not been much on reminiscing on old times.

Gregor sighed, "Well the letter, it explains it all." He handed the letter to Durgaden, and as Durgaden started to read it outloud, Gregor pulled an ancient wood box from his pack and set it on the table between him and Durgaden.

Durgaden read the letter slowly, taking it all in, reading aloud as he did...



> Dear Gregor,
> 
> I hope this letter finds you in good spirits despite what I have done to you. I know you think you should be here, helping to defend the mines, but I will not risk my most talented craftsman on a suicide mission. We can not win this battle, and Thomas and I saw the writing on the wall long before the hammer dropped.
> 
> ...




Durgaden sputtered as he read the last few sentences. He downed the rest of his mug and croaked out, "Can I get some more ale?"

When more had been delivered he continued reading...



> well I suppose father knew best. I just hope that someday Durgen or one of his kin can wipe the stain from his bloodline, and be once more known as a Tethyamar.
> 
> Be safe my friend, live many years. May your forge always run hot, your hammer always be strong, and your works always be of the finest caliber.
> 
> ...




Durgaden lowered the letter and looked at Gregor.

Gregor slid the box across the table. "Me and the boys wanted to help you, mate. But with your father's sins still in place, we couldn't. We figure after what you've done, its time that those sins be forgiven. That would make you the heir to Tethyamar. Our king." Gregor slid the bench out, and with the rest of the bows dropped to one knee.

Durgaden opened the box as Gregor talked and saw a finely wrought helmet crown. The spines of the crown were inlaid with platinum. The helmet itself was made from adamantine. The chain coif built into it was mithril. Gems studded the masterpiece in various places. He sputtered, closed the box and watched as the dwarves dropped to one knee.

"Oh by the gods! Get up! Get up! Stop that." The dwarves quickly stood.

Gregor grinned, "Long live the King!" The rest of the dwarves joined in the chorus and raised the mugs, shouting out salutes and cheers. Durgaden grinned a bit sheepishly, but hid it well enough. Durgaden's companions smiled and watched on as the dwarves celebrated.

Durgaden stopped the rowdy celebrations and pointed at his companions, "You boys do as these fellows bid ye, just as sure as if it were me. None of this woulda been possible without them." Durgaden strode over to his companions. "Well we did what we set out to do, and I will reward as I promised."

Tanerus nodded, "There is still the matter of the book."

Durgaden nodded, "Aye, Will, you can study it all ye want, copy it, and all once we find it, but it will need to stay in Tethyamar."

Will nodded, "I understand."

Durgaden grinned, "And we will be needing to go after the items the drow have taken."

Tanerus nodded, "I would bet they are all in one place."

Amador nodded, "I would have to assume that is so. It troubles me that the drow have collected such an array of varying items. They are definately up to something."

Gregor walked up. "M'lord, we will secure the fortress while you and your companions go after this book."

Amador asked Gregor, "Do you know anything about this crypt of Thomas."

Gregor shook his head, "None of us were involved in building it. Most of these boys are like Durgaden, one generation removed from those that lived here. I'm the exception, and as I said, I was not there when the crypt was built."

Will nodded, "Then lets finish getting some rest and when we are ready, we will enter this crypt." All agreed and the plan for the next day was set.


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## Gilgalad (May 8, 2003)

Well, we got off to a great start, expecially for Durgaden.  I mean, the descendent of a king and just crowned himself.  But the new king, or should I say "I", quickly fell off his game.  The next entry should be almost comical in it's depiction of how many times a newly crowned dwarf king can screw up the simplest of things.  Even more scary to me is how well our DM knows what I'll do as a player in almost any situation.  Look for the loss of 108 HP in exactly 2 rounds as an indication of how well we faired from this point on <lol>, and it only gets better...errr...worse...as the story progresses <cringes at that thought>.  Lets just say that the cliff hanger we ended in has the makings of a comedy sketch written all over it.

Oh well, someone toss my descendents a few copper for the privledge of laughing at my pending demise and we'll call it even ;-)

Durgaden Alepounder
Level 9 Dwarven Warrior/Defender
King of Tethyamar

"It's good to be the King"


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## Wraithdrit (May 8, 2003)

*Session 7 - Log 2*

*Temple of Moradin, Tethyamar
Eleint 29th, Mid Morning* 

Having sent Sgt Serin back to Dagger Falls with the remains of her patrol and the Banite prisoner, the companions led a few of the small troop of dwarves to the temple ruins and found the location of the entrance of the crypt, right where the letter had said it would be.

The dwarves helped move aside the large basin and the companions slowly entered into the darkness, leaving the dwarves behind to guard the entrance. Tanerus led the way, followed by Durgaden. Durgaden had Zhentarim Commander Kara's enchanted shield strapped to his arm. Gregor had been kind enough to remove the large Zhentarim symbol, and had done so without damaging the shield. He truly was a master craftsman. The shield had a light spell cast upon it by Will, and shed light twenty feet around them.

Behind Durgaden came Will, followed finally by Amador. The elven cleric had his bow out and an arrow nocked. He watched behind the party now to make sure they were not snuck up on. 

The group descended into the rock, some twenty feet down before the passage opened up into a massive domed chamber. In the center of the chamber could be seen a large trap door, the only obvious exit to the room. Atop the trap door, frozen in solid ice, was a massive tiger, some twenty feet long at least.

Will whistled, "Now there is something you don't see every day."

Durgaden slowly stepped forward, putting the crown atop his head. Tanerus slid around to one of the back corners and crouched watching Durgaden. 

The dwarf walked up to beneath the great tiger. The beast was frozen in mid jump it would seem, rearing back up on its back legs. The ice was an inch or two thick around the entire creature.

Will spoke from behind Durgaden. "The creature itself is not magical, nor is the ice, but there is an enchantment on the beast."

Durgaden spoke to the cat, "I am Durgaden Alepounder Tethyamar. I have come to claim what is mine."

Nothing happened.

Amador shrugged. "There are no other ways out of here. We have to melt the ice to get through."

Durgaden nodded, "Give me a resistance to fire spell and then burn the ice off. But try not to hurt the cat."

Will cocked an eyebrow and looked at Amador. He muttered, "Try not to hurt the cat... right." 

Amador cast a prayer over Durgaden, coating him with the resistance to fire. Durgaden strode up toward the cat again and nodded at Will.

Will nodded back and summoned the wall of fire in a ring around the giant cat. Flames roared up and the ice began to melt. 

Durgaden continued to talk to the mighty beast, "We mean you no harm. I have come to claim what is my own. In the name of Thomas, your creator, I command you stand down."

With a mighty roar the ice shattered and the fearsome beast came down, angrily tearing at Durgaden in a flash. Before the dwarf could react, the tiger clawed at him with both front paws and brought the tastey morsel into its powerful jaws biting down hard. Durgaden cried out in pain.

"Damn you beast, I said stand down... oh to hell with it!" Durgaden started fighting back. He delivered blow after blow into the things head from the side. His angle was not perfect for defending, but he could still swing his axe.

From outside the wall of flame Will cursed softly, then unleashed an empowered Magic Missile towards the creature. The globes slammed into its side and melted away already burned flesh and hair. "Well at least magic seems to hurt it," he quipped.

Amador followed up with a magical strike of his own. The beast was so large he could center flame strike behind it, and not hurt Durgaden. Plus, Durgaden did have his fire protections up. The column of flame Amador summoned ripped up atop the beast's back and it howled in pain.

Tanerus lifted his crossbow up and shot a bolt through the wall of flame. The bolt burnt as it passed through the wall, but was an accurate shot that buried into the beast's flank.

Like a cat with a toy, the giant tiger flopped onto its side, growling shaking its head a little to bury its fangs deeper into its prey. Then it does what all cats in a fight do. It raked the dwarf with its claws. All four sets of them. Durgaden screamed in pain as four sets of dagger sized claws ripped through his armor. Blood and gore flew into the wall of fire, burning up. 

The companions heard the dwarf's scream come to and end and saw their companion go limp in the beasts mouth.

Will thought quickly. "He could still be alive!" He cast a protection on Amador. The elf's skin turned hard as stone. "You are stoneskinned, go heal him!"

Amador hesitated a moment then raced in, raising his arms to protect his face and he plowed through the wall of fire. The flames burned the cleric, but he would not be swayed. He slid to a halt beside the massive growling beast and began to call upon Corellian's aid. 

The tiger wanted none of that. It saw its new opponent drop its guard, and with the limp dwarf still dangling from its mouth it swiped a massive clawed paw at the cleric. 

Will gasped as he watched the claw rip open Amador's stomach. The clerics loud prayer could barely be heard through the roar of the flames. Amador faltered, the words of the prayer pausing as the pain raced through him. His eyes shut tight against the pain.

He would not be stopped though. His eyes shot open, his arms raised, and even as blood poured from his stomach he completed the prayer to his god. His hands glowed bright blue and he grabbed a hold of Durgaden's dangling arm. The energy surged through the dwarf and Durgaden gasped aloud and screamed in anger and pain.

The tiger was a bit taken back. He began to stand. Durgaden was still alive though, and he was not about to get eaten by this thing without every amount of fight he had in him being used. Again he slammed his axe into the tigers head, cutting twice more into the same spot, cleaving deeper and deeper in. "Bad kitty!"

Still the tiger lived. It shook its head to one side, flopped back on its side and brought its claws to bear. 

Before it could make good on the dwarf's impending death, a small form screamed and burst through the back of the wall of fire. Tanerus, ignoring the pain of the wall of fire and the danger of such a huge beast, rolled to a stop behind the things massive head, and plunged his short sword into it. He twisted, turned and slid the sword across the creatures spine. 

The tigers eyes glassed over and with a loud huff, collapsed fully to the ground, dead. Durgaden fell from its mouth sputtering and cursing, collapsing onto his back and moaning. Amador dropped to his knees, holding his stomach. Tanerus threw up a hand, the flaming wall, singing his back.

The wall lowered as Will dispelled the magic that sustained it. Tanerus popped the cork off a potion and downed it quickly, the burns on his arms and face healing quickly. Amador shuffled up to Durgaden and began the long process of knitting the dwarf's many wounds.

Durgaden peaked open one eye as Will strode up. "I sure hope this was his greatest creation," croaked the dwarf.

Will looked at the trap door. "I have a feeling we will find out very soon."


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## Wraithdrit (May 8, 2003)

*OOC Info...*

Yeah, thats the exact way that fight played out. Gilgalad (Durgaden)'s post above was right. In round one the Dire Tiger hit with three attacks and thirty some odd points of damage. Second round it got to rake, so it hit with five attacks for sixty some odd points. It was brutal. Durgaden went to -9 from full in two attack rounds. Lucky he had that protect from fire up or the wall's flame damage would have been enough to finish him off! Even then the party had less than a round to get to him and heal him somehow.

Well Will stoneskinned the hesitant cleric and he decided to suck it up and take the plunge. He had to concentrate to do a combat casting, and flubbed the roll. So the attack of opportunity smacked him around for like 12 points. Luckily his second concentration roll (to not lose the spell) was much better. It was a tense moment and REALLY cool.

But Durg. was not out of the fire yet (heh). On the dire tigers turn he was guaranteed to be the center of attention once more, and at something like a measly twenty hit points he would be toast. So he hacked at the thing a couple more times but without finishing it off. 

Tanerus was the last person to act before the tiger's initiative and he flung caution to the wind, flanked the beast and delivered  a killer sneak attack. There was much cheering.

Then lots of healing.

And that was just the first fight of the night. Things only got more interesting from there.

- Wraith


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## Wraithdrit (May 8, 2003)

*Session 7 - Log 3*

*Crypt of Thomas Flamesculptor,
Underneath the Temple of Moradin,
Tethyamar
Eleint 29th, 1372, Mid Morning* 

Durgaden walked over to the trapdoor and flung it open. Tanerus rolled away with a surprised cry, sure that a fireball would go off. Will cringed and Amador swung around to see what the noise was about. Durgaden looked at them all. "What? That was the guardian right? Should be safe from here. No?" He looked down the trapdoor. 

A spiral staircase led down into darkness, the staircase had no railing, and was carved of stone and the drop off to either side or down the center would lead to one heck of a fall. Tanerus began to move toward the staircase, "I'll make sure they aren't ... " Durgaden quaffed a potion and lept off the side. "... trapped." Tanerus sighed and shook his head. The dwarf was levitating a few feet down and slowly dropping with each passing moment. 

Durgaden floated downward around twenty feet before he heard the sounds of large bat like wings. "This place ain't empty!" He bellowed. Three batwinged stone like figures flew out of the darkness, darting at and then trying to claw at Durgaden. The creatures had flames licking out of their mouths and fire rimmed eyes. One managed to find a hole in his armor, but the cut was fairly minor.

Durgaden lowered himself some more, then reach out and grab the staircase and pull himself onto it.

Tanerus looked up at Will smiles and flung himself down at one of the gargoyles. The startled creature soon had a halfling landing on his back, dagger first. Tanerus plunged the blade in and twisting, chuckling as the part fiend gargoyle twisted and writhed beneath him. "Woo hoo!" The halfling seemed to be having fun, something almost out of his normal somber mood.

Will sighed and drew Sergio's wand from his belt. He let loose with it and three globes shot forth, slamming into one of the beasts. Amador shot two arrows at the same beast, missing them cleanly, sending the arrows off into the darkness below.

The half-fiend gargoyles split up. One shot up out of the trapdoor, past Amador and Will, positioning itself on the otherside of Amador. One followed Durgaden, swiping at him as it flew down. The last one fell under the weight of the halfling and not able to reach the halfling very well, it summoned a globe of darkness around the two of them.

Durgaden was glad to see one of them follow him, he stepped up and hacked twice at the thing, severing one wing and ripping a chunk from its center.

Tanerus continued to stab and twist with his dagger, the gargoyle just cried out over and over, unable to dislodge the little halfling. Its wounds began to overcome it, and its wings went limp. The pair began to fall rapidly, but Tanerus' ring prevented any serious damage as they hit the ground. 

Will glanced up at the gargoyle that was up with him and Amador. Amador tracked the beast and was let go with two arrows as Will lower the wand and used his own magic missile spell. Five globes shot forth this time, but the gargoyle was still there.

The gargoyle lowered a hand and pointed a ring at Amador. A massive ghostly rams head appeared in front of the beast and flew at the cleric, slamming him in the chest. Amador cried out as the blow lifted him from his feet and threw him back, straight through the trap door. Nothing stopped Amador's fall except the ground some eighty feet below. The cleric crumpled when he landed with a hard thud. 

Tanerus looked around, still not able to see. He heard the fall as he finished dispatching his foe. "Amador? That you?"

Durgaden sunk his axe into his opponent again, finishing the gargoyle off. Will unleashed another magic missile, and the last gargoyle fell dead.


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## Gilgalad (May 8, 2003)

Something just not right about having an elven cleric "plunge" ahead of the dwarven king into the depths of the mines.

Glory seaking tree hugger ;-)

Patience me boy...patience.  And I recommend the stairs...or at least a good levitate potion.  While expedient, the free fall method leaves a little to be desired once the destination has been reached <grins>.

Durgaden Alepounder Tethyamar
King of Tethyamar
9th level Dwarven Warrior/Defender


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## Wraithdrit (May 16, 2003)

*Session 7 - Log 4 of 4*

"I just don't get it." Amador looked around as he spoke. "It's a staircase into a room with no exits?"

Will nodded, "Well no exits that my spell can detect." He continued to walk the edge of the room, concentrating on the walls, hoping his magic would reveal some signs of a secret door.

Tanerus stood by and watched, fidgetting a little now and then.

Will called over, "A bit more light over here." Durgaden held his glowing shield up to spread the light a bit better. Suddenly the dwarf's eyes grew large and he slapped his axe head against his shield.

"Thats it!" growled the dwarf. Tanerus thought he may be upset about something, but in contrary it seemed that Durgaden had thought of something.

"Hey!" Will called out in surprise as Durgaden turned and jogged back to the stairs, taking the light with him. Durgaden ran up the steps and and leaned over the edge some thirty feet up. The levitation potion seemed to still be in effect so the dwarf stepped out of the steps to better spread the light toward the higher walls of the chamber.

"Ah ha! There are passages about halfway up!" The dwarf struggled back onto the steps and repeated the process over and over till he had circled the room. "Four of em. I'm take a look." He lowered himself to the floor and then went over to the wall and slowly began to ascend back up.

After a while he returned, "All but one lead to the same place. The one is collapsed after a while and seems they used it for a layer." 

Durgaden held out his arms, "Climb on, I'll carry you all up." 

Tanerus snickered, "I'll climb, thanks." 

Amador and Will grabbed a hold of the dwarf and soon the party was safely into a tunnel. The tunnel lead off into darkness, and the party began moving down it carefully.

Will whispered, "What I don't get are how fiendish creatures made it into these crypts. The top area did not seem disturbed."

Durgaden grunted, "Well they were not put here by me kin. That is for sure."

Amador whispered, "And what were they feeding on? Durgaden found bones in the fiendish gargoyle's layer."

Tanerus stopped ahead as the passage opened up into a chamber. It was another large chamber. As Tanerus slipped forward and began to dart to one side he slammed into a solid wall of force. "Ow!"

The halfling stumbled back and shook his head. He felt to the right of the doorway... another wall of force. It was as if the passage continued forward into the room. Tanerus began forward feeling the walls as he did, waiting for an opening. He stopped dead in his tracks. Ahead of him was a massive minotaur. It snorted fire and stood there, leering at the small halfling. It carried a large glowing hammer.

Durgaden moved forward and grinned, "Let him come to us...."

The minotaur moved to one side, apparently there was another wall of force, this one perpendicular to the others. It was a maze! Durgaden backed up and felt for the walls to either side of him. Knowing the force walls were now protecting his sides he felt safe. He hefted his shield in front of him and waited. Tanerus moved to the side, finally finding an opening in the wall of force. He back through it, watching the minotaur. 

A loud huff behind and to one side sent Tanerus spinning around. Anothe minotaur moved into the light. Tanerus tumbled forward, ducking past Durgaden. The first minotaur loped out to in front of the party, just over fifteen feet from Durgaden.

Durgaden waited, "Come on ugly, I'm waiting for ye!"

The large beast slammed its right hoof into the ground and scratched it back. It repeated the motion, lowered its head and bellowed.

The second minotaur moved up to beside the first and lifted an arm. Black energy bubbled up around the entire party and burned their skin, singing their hair. 

Amador growled at the pain of the unholy energy, "More fiendish beasts... this is getting old." He began a prayer to his diety and threw a hand forward, calling for the holy power of Corellian to smite his foes.

At the same time Will called forth a burst of electrical energy that expanded like a loop from a point between the two beasts. The blast did not seem to have any effect on the beast, the electrical energy coursing off of them.

The first of the beasts charged, but the second seemed stunned by one of the spells that had been cast. Durgaden met the charge, ducking under it and slashing the beast wickedly. 

Tanerus ducked and tumbled through the melee and came up next to the stunned beast. He drove his blade up into its stomach and twisted it. He sliced to the side and then tumbled back out of reach. 

Durgaden slashed through the leg of the beast ahead of him. As it fell to the ground he quickly removed its head from its shoulders. 

Will pulled Sergio's wand of Magic Missiles out and let fly with three of the small globes. The energy slammed into the beast left standing. It belowed in pain and stumbled. 

Tanerus ducked back in and lept up. Grabbing a hold of one horn he flipped up around behind the beast and drove his blade into its neck. The beast fell to the ground dead, blood spurting from the wound.

The group quickly found the minotaur lair in the back corner of the force maze. Finding a few discarded items they moved forward again.

Amador spoke as they walked, "More fiendish creatures, more discard bones... these creatures are getting food somehow."

Tanerus stopped ahead of them and slipped back toward the party, "I may have found out how... there is a giant crack in the wall ahead... leads to some sort of ancient natural chamber."

Durgaden nodded, "The earth shifted then and exposed the crypts to the Underdark."

Will looked a bit worried. Amador voiced Will's concern. "Perhaps they already got the book."

Durgaden shook his head quickly, "Nay. I can not believe that the tomb intended for me grandfather would be so easily disturbed. We go forward, assuming they never got to the book."

Tanerus nodded, "The passage does continue straight, and I uh... think you guys should see this..."

A chamber opened up straight ahead. The first five feet of the thirty foot wide chamber was carved into a deep pit, deeper than their light would shine. On the other side of the pit, some fifteen feet past the pit lay a large sarcophagus. Behind the sarcophagus was a twenty foot tall stone statue.

Durgaden whistled in awe. "That thing is huge." Indeed the statue was in the form of an squat sturdy opponent. Though only twenty feet high, it was nearly that wide. Its fists were massive. It did not resemble anything real. 

Tanerus gulped, "Is that..."

Durgaden nodded, "Must be Flamesculptors greatest creation..."

Will frowned. "A stone golem." Will had never seen one before, but this looked like it would fit the bill. "They are nearly impervious to damage, and impervious to all spells."

Durgaden looked at his axe. "Me axe is not made to cut through magic stone." Indeed though Durgaden's axe was magical, it was not very powerfully enchanted.

Tanerus snapped his fingers, "The magic hammer we found on the Minotaurs." Durgaden fished the warhammer out of his pack. 

Will stepped up, "Here take these..." He handed Durgaden his magic gloves. "They will make you quicker."

Amador whispered softly and cast a strengthening spell on Durgaden. Durgaden nodded and asked Tanerus, "Mind if I borrow your amulet of armor?" Tanerus quickly handed it over.

The rest of the party looked at Durgaden. He stood tall for his size, his crown on. He carried magic from all of them, and hefted the warhammer the minotaurs had carried. "Alright then. Wish me luck." 

The three companions nodded and all said, "Good luck." They stepped aside so Durgaden could leap the pit.

Durgaden grinned, "Five feet... thats easy." He took a few steps back the hall and began to run toward the edge. He vaulted forward, his magic boots aiding his momentum. He landed easily on the other side, his warhammer and shield at the ready the moment his feet touch the floor.

Then the floor gave way as a trapdoor opened beneath him. There was nothing the other companions could do as they watched Durgaden plunge out of sight with a loud cry.

The statue never moved.


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## Gilgalad (May 16, 2003)

*Oh hell !*

Could it be that Flamesculptor's greatest invention was the pit trap ???

Talk about one unhappy Dwarf !


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## Amador (May 16, 2003)

*Free Falling*

I just want to know if we are just the luckiest group or what?  We have been able to make it through everything so far.  Of course it appears there will be a new King soon.  Especially the way that beer drinking dwarf does business, but what do you expect from such individuals.

I look forward to our next session.


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## Gilgalad (May 27, 2003)

*Did we make it ?*

"It's good to be the King"

OR

"It was good to be the King, now I 'm gonna roll up a Monk"

Find out the answers to this and other exciting questions just as soon as our DM/author can break away from work long enough to post the story.

Lets just say that our beloved dwarven King could have had no worse luck had he been stone cold drunk on Fey Wine the entire adventure.  And, unfortunately, it seemed to be contagious.

Anyway, stay tuned for the most comical and unbelievable story yet, including pit trap plunges, powerful undead and celestial fish.

Let the happy hour commence


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## Wraithdrit (May 27, 2003)

*Session 8 - Log 1*

*Crypt of Thomas Flamesculptor,
Underneath the Temple of Moradin,
Tethyamar
Eleint 29th, 1372, Early Afternoon* 

With a startled yell Durgaden tumpled down into the pit. The glowing light on his shield flickered out after a few feet, plunging the entire group into darkness. A few moments later and the rest of the group heard a harsh crash from within the pit, then silence.

A tense moment paused, then soft dwarven cursing could be heard from within the darkness. Will let out a breath he did not even realize he had been holding and shook his head in wonder. A soft click of stone and metal created a small spark and light soon flared to life within a lantern that Tanerus had produced.

"Are you alright?!" Amador called down the pit. They could see that the second pit and the first pit were seperated by a thin wall. 

Tanerus shook his head, "Clever, put one obvious pit, then a concealed pit. Jump over one, you land on the other..." The small halfling set the lantern down and ran back then forward, leaping over the first pit at an angle. He landed and waited, but the floor held beneath him. 

Amador pulled out a length of rope then tossed one end to Tanerus. Tanerus quickly lowered himself down, but still was not able to reach Durgaden. The fall had been a good eighty feet. Luckily Durgaden had his own rope. He tossed the coils up to Tanerus and the halfling quickly tied the second rope to the first and scurried back up. Durgaden followed, a heck of a lot slower, but arriving just as safe at the top.

Will had concentrated toward the back of the party. He kept looking at the gaping hole in the corridor. The opening led to the Underdark, and he was not about to let the group be attacked from the rear.

His fears found shape in the form of a vicious hag like creature that flung an arm around the corner and summoned several small globes of energy. Streaking out at Will, they slammed home, burning him in several places. Will cursed and flung himself to one side, able to fully see the hag now. He summoned up a blast of cold, sending the cone shaped spell spitting ice and cold down the side passage, blasting over the hag.

It did not seem to harm her at all. She cackled and flung herself at Will, grabbing at him. Amador stepped into the way, slamming his shield against the hag and slicing with his enchanted sword. His triumph at a well placed hit turned into horror as his blade just skipped off her leathery hide, failing to hurt her at all. 

Tanerus stepped aside as he saw Durgaden getting ready to leap back across the original pit, wanting to come to the aid of his companions. The halfling gasped as the dwarf stumbled when he planted for the jump. He bit his lip and winced, looking away, not wanting to see the dwarf fall down another pit.

But luck was with the dwarf. A strange sort of luck though it was. He stretched out, hoping to catch the edge with his fingers and pull himself up. Only instead he landed face first on the floor that was actually were the pit appeared to be. The first pit had been an illusion the whole time. Durgaden cursed loudly, rolled to his feet and moved to help Will and Amador. 

The companions surrounded the hag, slashing, hacking, and smashing at her with everything they had. She just did not seem to be hurt by much of it. Durgaden tossed aside his shield and wielded the minotaur's warhammer with two hands and slammed it home again and again, but it barely seemed to do anything. 

The hag on the other hand was a flurry of activity, slashing, grabbing and biting at the companions. Once she had successfully bitten any one of them, she seemed to lose interest and would latch onto another companion member. 

Will and Amador were having a hard time against the hag as well. A lightning bolt had hurt her some, but magic missiles had bled off of her harmlessly, and Amador's attempt to dismiss her by dispelling her connection with this plane had no effect as well. 

Slowly they oculd tell that their pricks and nicks where starting to have an effect. Tanerus kept slicing at her, his normally devistatingly accurate blows would barely nick through her tough hide. But finally the hag slowed and switched tactics. She shot a ray at Durgaden, but it seemed to harmlessly bleed off of him. 

Finally the hag sunk to her knees and collapsed to the ground. The entire group jumped atop her unconscious form hacking and slashing and beating it till they were sure she was not ever getting back up.

Durgaden shook his head in amazement. "I've never had such a hard a time hurting something as that!"

Amador nodded, "She was tough, but we got her."

Tanerus frowned, "Hopefully we won't have to face anything that hard to hurt again anytime soon..." If only the halfling had been correct...


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## Wraithdrit (May 29, 2003)

"Yep, its just a damned statue..." Durgaden shook his head at what they had thought was a stone golem and then looked at the sarcophagus. "Lets get this thing open and get out of here." He shoved hard, but the lid did not budge. 

Tanerus stepped up and lend the dwarf a hand. He threw his back into it, his small boots scraping on the floor over and over as he tried to find traction and move the hefty lid. 

All of it was to no avail. Amador strode up and quipped, "Need a hand fellas?" Durgaden glared at the elven priest.

"Shut yet trap and help." The dwarf's face was bright red, his muscles straining. 

Amador smirked and put a shoulder against the lid and pushed as well. Finally there was movement, and the heavy lid slid to one side. 

Durgaden yelled, "Heave it up and over!" The three combined to finally toppled the lid. Looking down at the corpse laying in the sarcophagus, the trio frowned a little. Amador raised one hand to cover his noise and mouth. The corpse was old, turned gray, partially rotted away. The thing that really turned their stomach though was the look on its face. Some form of horror or madness had striken this person in its finally stages of death. Its face was twisted and horrible.

Then its eyes snapped open. From where he was in the corridor, Will heard his three friends yelp. He glanced over to see them all jumping back from the edge of the sarcophagus.

Darkness welled in the three companions heads. Their vision tunnelled and their knees became weak. Amador thought he could hear the wails of the dead and dying, he knew that he could easily close his eyes and join them...

But as quickly as it started it ended. Amador called out loudly, "No!" He grabbed his holy symbol and thrust it towards the creatures, his legs finding their strength once again. The holy symbol was warm in his hands and he yelled out to his diety for protection. 

Durgaden had already slumped forward, but before he collapsed he too was able to shake off the effects the creature's gaze had. He lifted his axe and growled out, "What on earth is that?!" 

Tanerus stumbled back, shaking the vision of the foul creatures madening visage from his memory. Even when he regained his senses he continued to backpeddle. His head shook from side to side. Undead were on the short list of things that Tanerus hated above all else. 

The creature wailed at the sight of Amador's glowing holy symbol. It writhed inside of the sarcophagus, its arms flailing up to try and protect itself. Durgaden began chopping quickly. He severed one hand, cut deep into the things chest, then hacked three times into its head till it split open like melon. The creature slumped back to the bottom of the sarcophagus, death replacing undeath.

Amador lowered his holy symbol, letting out a breath. One eyebrow lifted and he pointed at the bottom of the sarcophagus. "Its a false tomb, there is a trap door in there." 

Will's eyes went large when he saw the form that Amador and Durgaden lifted out of the sarcophagus. "That was a bodak!" The two companions dumped the creatures remains into the pit. "Very deadly... its gaze has been known to kill." 

Durgaden glanced at Will and nodded, "Not anymore it isn't..." 

Tanerus stepped back up and examined the trapdoor. "Its not trapped." They lifted it up and found another set of stairs spiralling down into darkness.

Will spoke up. "We should rest before going down there." 

Amador quickly agreed. "I have little energy left, I'm afraid another few fights like that and I will be unable to heal our wounds." A watch schedule was set, and soon the companions were resting easily. They awoke and prepared to head out.

Tanerus led the way, followed by the rest of the companions. The staircase led into a small domed chamber. The far wall held a door of stone. Carved into the door was a bas relief of a middle-aged man wearing robes. He was casting some sort of fiery spell. At his side was a book and a wand. 

Will swallowed, "Thomas Flamesculptor..." He cast a soft quick spell and scanned the room quickly, "No magic in this area..." 

Tanerus swung the door open, was about to take a step inside when Will called out, "Stop! That floor... in the corridor... its magic..." He concentrated a bit harder, "Its an illusion."

Amador stepped off the stairs and to one side, "We better prepare for more combat, we obviously have not reached the end of this tomb yet."

Will nodded and began to recite the words of his shield spell. Pain blasted through him as something massive struck him in the shoulder. He stumbled back but managed to keep the spell up. 

Amador was also hit by something unseen. He stumbled back, then lashed out with his sword at whatever it was that was attacking him. Without seeing his target he was afraid he would not be off much help. 

Tanerus rolled to against one wall and came up with his sword in his hand. His eyes darted about the room, looking for the source of the danger. 

To Amador's left Durgaden reached into his magical backpack, muttering, "Dust..." A small bag rose to his grasp. He popped the tie that held the back together and threw it out ahead of him. Directly between him and Amador a vapor form took shape under the Dust of Appearance. 

Will cast another spell and his eyes flashed brightly. "Invisible Stalkers!" He could now see his opponent, and wasted no time in casting a spell at it. Lightning shot from his hands, ripping over the creature. It screamed in pain. 

Now that Durgaden and Amador could see their opponent they wasted no time in hacking the creature into small bist of vapor. Tanerus tumbled up to behind the stalker that still menaced Will. He plunged his sword into its back and twisted. Though the creature had no vital organs to disrupt, the halfling's blows were enough to send it back to its own plane. 

The room went quiet again, nothing but the panting of the companions trying to catch their breath could be heard. Finally Tanerus lowered his blade and moved toward the open door. "I so want to get this over with, I can climb along the wall..."

Will shook his head, "I have a better idea... here." He tossed the halfling a potion. "Its a flying potion." Tanerus caught the potion and quickly imbibed its contents. His feet came up off the ground and he floated about a little, testing the potions effectiveness.

Tanerus flew across the corridor to another carved door. He soon pulled it open as well, finding it untrapped. 

He paused and noted to his companions, "I hear wind from the pit below, serious wind..." He looked down and back and now that he could see through the illusion, was easily able to see a set of spikes on the wall of the pit some five feet below the surface. He spun to look at the opposite wall, finding an opening there. He lowered his hand and felt harsh winds whipping from the opening. "Oh... devious... if you fall in, the winds push you into spikes on the wall, then you fall down the pit... probably to more spikes."

Durgaden frowned, "Whats in the room, Tanerus!"

The halfling finished admiring the trap and flew into the room beyond. "Its a big room, looks round, like the last few... oh... another sarcophagus, and some sort of large construct beast... a golem I'd say..."

Will called out, "Whats it made of?"

Tanerus flew a bit closer, but it was his nose that gave him the answer. "Clay... definately clay." He wrinkled his nose at the smell and flew a bit closer.

Durgaden growled, "I should get in there..."

Will put a hand on the dwarf's shoulder, "We have a potion of levitate, but lets wait and see what else he finds out... it could be another trap."

Tanerus flew closer and closer. When he was about twenty feet from the golem it lurched to life, moving slowly around the sarcophagus. Tanerus drew it back from the sarcophagus then darted up and over it. He threw himself at the lid of the sarcophagus and was surprised when it slid aside for him. 

Inside was an ancient corpse dressed in robes. In its hands it clutched an ancient gold bound book. A circlet say upon its head, and its belt pouches were full. 

Tanerus looked down and chuckled, below were he would have been standing if he were not flying a trap door had opened up. He could see that benath the trapdoor was a horizontal shaft. He could hear the wind rushing past the opening. 

But he had more immediate problems to deal with. Quickly he snatched up the circlet, book, and belt of pouches.  He bolted upward and turned to see that the golem had stopped halfway toward him. He lowered a little and the golem started forward. He raised back up and it stopped. 

Tanerus figured he could outrun the golem so began to fly higher to stay out of its reach. 

Durgaden growled, "Thats it, I'm going in there." He drank the potion of levitation and started to move sideways along the wall, levitating above the illusionary floor. 

But the golem had something else in mind. It backed up then slammed the door shut. 

Tanerus paused and looked down at the golem, the closed door, then back at the sarcophagus. He turned and flew straight towards the sarcophagus at full speed.

Durgaden yelled at the shut door, "I'm coming little buddy!" 

The golem began charging toward where Tanerus would land. At the last moment Tanerus shifted and flew straight through the trapdoor into the wind tunnel. He arched and began flying straight into the wind. Even that little turn cost him a trip twenty feet down the tunnel. The trapdoor opening was now twenty feet in front of him. He turned full force into the wind, flying as fast as the spell would allow him.

Using the speed of the fly spell, he was able to control his horizontal movement in the wind tunnel. Short burst after short burst he would slow himself a little to let the wind rip him further down the corridor, then kick the spell back in full force so as not lose control of how fast and how far he went. 

The force of the wind was more than he had ever felt. His hair and clothes whipped him hard, his cheeks were pushed back, his mouth forced open. His eyes were wide with pain and concentration, but he managed to maintain control. Finally he saw the first wall of the pit pass beside him. He was in the pit itself. He pulled up and popped free of the wind, shooting up through the illusion before he finally stopped still, floating in the air in the middle of the corridor, clutching the treasures he had found.

Softly he croaked, "Got it." He lifted the book a bit higher and his companions smiled. "Now can we go?"

Durgaden smirked and pushed back along the wall. "Aye lad, lets go."

The group was glad to finally see the dwarven companions they had left at the entrance. Durgaden turned to one he recognized, "Seal off this staircase."

"Yes sir!" The dwarf saluted and began giving orders to the others. 

Will held the book gently in the crook of his arm. He finally had it, after all this time, the book was his.

Durgaden carried the circlet, the Chamberlain's Circlet, to Gregor. After giving him several orders he offered the Circlet to Gregor. "You are the best one to serve as me Chamberlain... and you will rule while I am away."

"Away m'lord?"

"Aye... my companions and I travel to stop whatever it is the drow are planning. We will get back those items that were stolen."

"M'lord, you honor me. I will serve the kingdom with all my ability." Gregor let the tired adventurers retire to their rooms. It had been a long two days of adventure in the crypts, and in the morning they planned to head back out.

Gregor had told them where the Underdark tunnels led first. "There is a military outpost of the Tethyamar kingdom directly east of here. Its high in the mountains, an old griffon rider nesting aerie."

Durgaden had nodded, "That will be were we go next then. Send for as many friends and relatives as you can Gregor, let them know the mines are in our hands again and that we need all the help we can get."

Gregor nodded, "Of course m'lord."

It had taken several hours but finally the companions found what they knew had to be the entrance to the bottom of the aerie.

Tanerus whistled, "Now there is something you do not see everyday." A massive underground lake lay before them. Glowing mosses lined the walls, lighting the entire cavern. A huge long land bridge led up from where there were to across and above them, leading to another opening out of the upper portions of the cavern. 

The middle of the bridge had long ago been collapsed and replaced with a wooden bridge. Eitherside of the land bridge was sheer dropoff, leading into the cold waters below. At the far end of the land bridge a set of stairs led off eventually into the lake itself. Beneath the cold waters, an ancient dock could be seen. Obviously the water level had risen here some time ago, covering the dock.

The most spactacular feature of the underground lake though, was the twin waterfalls. One cascaded down the side of the cavern, the other came through an opening in roof of the cavern. But unlike most waterfalls, this one travelled backwards! Water flowed up and into the shaft above. 

Amador shook his head, "Water doesn't flow up naturally."

Will nodded, "Some powerful magic to make that thing flow backwards."

Tanerus nibbled on his lip, "Think it is some kind of water supply for the levels above?"

Durgaden nodded, "The griffons and their riders would have needed water somehow..."

Tanerus moved to the wooden part of the bridge then stopped. "This bridge is not connected to the stone in anyway, its just sort of laying on top."

Durgaden frowned, "Is it sturdy?" 

Tanerus looked back, "Aye. Seems to be. We should only cross one at a time though. And walk softly... don't want to bounce it out of its perch." Tanerus scrambled across quickly and turned to look back.

Durgaden shrugged and moved forward. About halfway across he looked down between the wooden slats of the bridge and frowned, "Why is the water moving like that?"

A massive water elemental stood up from the depths of the water. Its stood quickly from straight beneath the bridge, leading with its two massive hands, slamming up into the bridge.

Durgaden screamed in surprise as the bridge he was on was tossed up into the air with little effort. Tanerus, Amador and Will were helpless to do anything but watch as the dwarf and the bridge fell into the icey cold waters below.


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## Wraithdrit (May 30, 2003)

"No!" yelled Will, taking a half step forward. His brain raced through the various spells he might use to save the fallen dwarf, but he could not come up with anything in the few seconds it took for the elemental to slosh its way along the stoney bridge toward where Will and Amador were at. 

Durgaden bobbed to the surface, kicking and struggling against the weight of his gear. He was not able to swim anywhere, but at least he was tredding water fairly well.

As the elemental closed Will finished the first damaging spell he could think of that would hurt this thing. A bolt of lightning shot from his extended hands, ripping through the elemental. It howled in pain and slammed one hand into Will, causing the mage to stumble. 

Amador began to cast but a tentacle of water shot forth from the elemental and slammed into the cleric. The thing had a larger reach than they thought.  

Tanerus loaded his crossbow and took aim. The bolt flew true but seemed to pass harmlessly through the water.

Durgaden found a piece or two of the bridge and grabbed hold, using it to help him stay afloat.

Will backpeddled away from the beast, and nearly stumbled back into the lake when he reached the edge. His foot skidded to halt, knocking a few rocks off into the water far below. The mage flailed his arms a bit, gaining his balance. He could not outrun this thing, but maybe he did not have to. Crouching a bit, the mage threw out another quick spell. Black tentacles sprouted from the water all around the elemental. 

Enraged the elemental swept its massive fists through the tentacles. With one sweep it cleared half a dozen tentacles out of its way. With its second it came from the other direction. It cleared the rest of the tentacles from its path and still had the reach and momentum to slam its fist into first Amador and then Will. Amador crumbled under the strength of the blow, his knees already weakened from his first hit moments ago. Will collapsed forward to his knees, coughing blood, his ears ringing from the force of the blow he had just received.

The elemental was not done wreaking havoc. It moved lightning fast. Its third and final sweep of a massive fist sent Will sprawling to the side. He landed in a crumbled heap, one arm hanging off the bridge.

Tanerus watched in horror as his companions crumbled to the ground. Durgaden was in the water and Will and Amador were both down on the other side of the gap that the wooden bridge once spanned. He lowered himself and pulled the hood of his magic cloak up, dissappearing from sight.

The elemental swam toward Durgaden and lowered into the water, forming a swirling vortex that rocked Durgaden loose of the debris he held onto. As the waves crashed into the dwarf he spun and gripped his magic hammer tight. If he was gonna go down, it would be fighting.

Tanerus saw his chance, now that the elemental was distracted. He ran full speed at the gap and lept easily over it. He landed in a roll and came up running a potion in each hand. He arrived at Will first, popping the cork and pouring the potion down the mages throat. Will's eyes snapped open and he coughed then began swallowing. Tanerus grabbed his hand and put it around the poition and whispered quickly, "Drink it all." 

He raced over to Amador, skidding to a halt on his knees, the cork already popped from the potion. He lifted the elves head and gasped softly at the feeling. He was lifeless, his eyes were closed and Tanerus could not feel any sort of beating of the elves heart. "Oh gods no... not now... not after all this..." He poured the potion down the elves throat, hoping that maybe just maybe he was in time.

Amador's body spasmed and he began drinking of the lifegiving liquid. Tanerus beamed, "You're not dead! Now get up and do something, Durgaden'll die if we don't help."

Will was already on his feet. "See how it likes to tangle with this..." He pointed at the water near the elemental. A bright flash of light was seen and when it dimmed it was replaced by a glowing Orca! The celestial whale turned on the elemental, lashing out and biting it hard. The vortex dissappated and the elemental took its humanoid form again. It lept at the Orca and the two mighty sea creatures battled for dominance. 

Tanerus jogged up to Will just as Will pulled out a wand. He tossed it to Tanerus and grinned, "Just point it and say Analthia." As the halfling levelled the wand at the elemental, Will cast his own spell. Orb after glowing orb slammed into the elemental. It ignored the attacks though and slammed both fists into the Orca one last time. 

Amador slipped up to beside Tanerus and Will and watched, there was little he could do to the elemental. He laid one healing hand upon Will's shoulder. The elf's words were strong, had already healed himself a good bit.

Durgaden continued to kick his feet trying to stay afloat as much as possible, but it was a losing cause in the frothing water of the battle. His hammer slammed into the elemental again and again. He saw the elemental's blows finally destroy the celestial whale, sending it back to its own plane. The elemental spun on Durgaden, howling out its anger and frustration. 

From the bridge Will cast another magic missile spell, "I'm running low... this thing is taking huge amounts of energy..." His orbs plowed through more of the elemental as it raised both meaty fists.

Durgaden stopped swinging, he looked up and could see the elemental's fists lowering toward him. His face set in grim determination and he pulled his hammer back for a final blow. But fighting in water was hard, and he could tell his blows would fall too late. The elemental fists streaked toward him. He decided he would not close his eyes, no... he would watch death come.

Inches from the dwarf the fists were intercepted by glowing orbs streaking from Tanerus' wand. They exploded through one fist, through its torso and through its head. With an unearthly howl the elemental exploded into a shower of pure natural water. 

Durgaden yelled out in surprise and happiness. He was still alive. Somehow he was still alive. 

Will grinned at Tanerus and nodded. "Nice shot."

Tanerus grinned and tucked the wand away in his belt, "Thanks. Got any more extras?" Will chuckled and shook his head.

Amador called down to Durgaden. "Hold on, Durgaden... we'll get you out of there." He fished out his rope and tossed one end down. 

As Durgaden grabbed the end of the rope and began to hoist himself up he chuckled and muttered to himself, "It was time for me bath anyways..."


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## Wraithdrit (Jun 4, 2003)

Just fyi. I'm working up a website for this and other writings of mine. Expect to see it before next Monday. I will still post logs here, but they will be archived on the site, and the site will include game info, character writes ups, NPC writeups, calendar, etc for the game.


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## Wraithdrit (Jun 5, 2003)

*New Website, with new update.*

Alrighty, the Wraith's Whispers website is now 'live'. It has all the logs, Character information, and some NPC details. I plan on adding more to it, like Specific NPC stat blocks for some (dead) npcs, timeline info, and maybe even PC stat blocks. 

Oh and there is an update there. Its Chapter 23. I'll post it here in a minute.


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## Wraithdrit (Jun 5, 2003)

*Chapter 23*

*Darkholm Tower
City of Shade
Harvestide, 1372, A Few Hours Past Midnight *

Clariburnus frowned at the map layed before him on the table. His finger tapped the spot over Tethyamar, then traced a line between it and a spot to the south and east of Dagger Falls. His gaze shifted to where a small obsidian carving of the City of Shade sat atop the great desert on the map. He licked his dark lips and turned from the map to walk to a shelf lined with books. Dark fingers raked from spine to spine as his eyes scanned the titles. 

Finally finding the tome he sought he pulled it from the shelf and set it on a small table to one side. He flipped page after page, scanning the words of the ancient journal. He stopped on a particular page and read through the description of what even back in the days of the Netheril Empire was considered an ancient relic. His eyes closed as he remembered the fateful events of the past twelve hours.

He had just finished debriefing his agent when the large group of imperial guard had arrived at the tower's doors. His presence was requested. The Lord of Shade knew that it would only take a single scribe telling him to get Clariburnus to appear before him. By sending a squad of his personal guards he was making a statement. He was not happy.

Clariburnus did not waste any time arriving in the throne room and he kneeled as low as he could before the inky darkness at the throne. 

"I just got word from Wyyruth. The drow are proceeding as planned, they seem uncocerned about the Heroes of Tethyamar."

Clariburnus frowned, "I hardly think they even know they exist, much less are headed their direction." 

"So they have entered the Underdark?"

"Aye, my lord. In a month this will be nothing but a memory."

"Are they strong enough to handle the task ahead of them?" The dark lord stood and strode down the steps toward Clariburnus.

"Only time will tell."

"Very well. Make sure you stay on top of this. Find out where they are..."

"I know their exact location my lord. They are beneath Eagle's Hold as we speak." Clariburnus swallowed and waited for the inevitable reaction.

"Eagle's Hold? The Netherese outpost?" The dark lord released Clariburnus' shoulder and walked away from him up the steps.

"Aye my lord. After the fall of the Empire the outpost was used by the dwarves of Tethyamar as part of their defenses."

The dark lord paused and looked back at Clariburnus, "And now?"

"We have not had anyone inside, but the assumption is it shared the fate of Tethyamar."

"Overrun by the horde. Interesting. You know they are there now?"

"Aye."

"Good. You are dismissed."

"But m'lord..." The blast that hit Clariburnus in the chest was enough to knock him back ten feet. He slid to a halt at the feet of another shade. It was the Lord of Shade's chamberlain. The shade looked down at Clariburnus and smiled darkly.

"I don't suggest you question him again." 

Clariburnus stood and spun on the Chamberlain. He grabbed the smaller man's robes and hefted him to him. "I do not suggest you tell a Prince of Shade what to do." He tossed the Chamberlain aside and strode out of the room.

The Chamberlain smiled as he brushed himself off. "I think that boy's temper will be his undoing on day." He muttered softly to himself, "Shar willing." 

The dark lord had settled back into his throne. "I do not trust these 'Heroes'." The contempt in his voice was obvious. 

"And they have the gem?"

The dark lord fumed, "And the Book."

"How is the book related, unless..."

The dark lord nodded, "Yes. It as well."

The Chamberlain whistled softly, "That does present a challenge then."

The Lord of Shade turned more fully toward his Chamberlain. "See to it."

"Very well my lord. But what of Clariburnus' new 'friends'?" He knew the answer, but had to ask.

"I suppose we will find out what they are really made of." The dark lord smiled. The look was enough to make even his Chamberlain get a small lump in his throat.

He swallowed it away and tried to smile, "Of course, my lord."

Clariburnus opened his eyes and blinked away the memories. Another knock on his door and he stood and walked toward it, shaking the mental cobwebs from his thoughts. One of his guards stood on the otherside. He held a scroll out to Clariburnus. "This came for you, lord."

The prince took the scroll and unrolled it, noting the symbol of Shar embedded in the wax seal that held the scroll shut. His presence was requested at one of the minor shrines in the eastern side of the city. Curious as to the nature of the summons he quickly made his way to the small shrine. The open sided building was empty, a few small sacrifices still sitting in the offering bowl on the altar. 

Clariburnus looked down at the altar top and saw incense was still smoldering in a small brazier. The smoke drifted up in a lazy flow that hung in the air. He breathed in the scent and smiled, it reminded him of the High Temple in the center of the city. He let his head lull back and let out a long sigh. It had been a long day already. His eyes opened and he looked curiously up at the vaulted ceiling of the shrine. The drifting smoke of the incense barely filled the very top portions of the vaulted area. He looked back down at the incense. It was barely burned.

The shrine had been set up to look like someone had been here some time before and merely left the incense burning. Instead someone had lit it not moments before he got there. If that were the case they would still be here praying.

Clariburnus spun quickly summoning his glaive forth as he spun. He sliced at the air in front of him, knocking an arrow out of the air in mid flight. Four men were converging on his position already, a fifth was holding back, knocking another arrow into his bow. 

The Prince was a blinding blur of motion. He thrust his glaive out at the first of the men as he charged up the steps. Dusky skinned humans, these men were residences of the City but not true shades themselves. Only a small portion of those living in the City where actually shades. 

The glaive was knocked aside by the man's shield, but Clariburnus had really only intended the blow to distract the opponent long enough for a simple incantation. As the words slipped from his lips Clariburnus let go of the glaive with one hand and held his palm toward the rushing men. Flames spewed forth in a fan shape rippling over the first two assailants. 

One dived to the side, his jacket on fire, the other dropped his weapons and screamed as his head caught flame. He fell backward down the steps, burning and smouldering the entire way. When he reached the bottom the magical flames had turned him into nothing more than a smouldering pile of burnt flesh.

The other two kept coming. Clariburnus ducked the swipe of one's blade and brought the handle of his glaive in to block the blow of the other. He spun the glaive, twisting the blade from the man's hand. As the blade twisted up and twirled in the air the Prince let go of his glaive with one hand and snatched the sword out of the air. 

The one human left with his sword out was outmatched, but fought well. Clariburnus tucked his glaive behind him and used just the sword to battle man, it was much more efficient in this close of a space. The prince was a master swordsman and began to push the man down the steps. The assailant he had stolen the sword from shifted off to the side and pulled a small secondary sword from a sheath behind his back.

Clariburnus stopped, the sword pointing at the one down the stairs, the glaive pointed at the one to his side. "I highly suggest you use this opportunity to flee." He twisted as a pair of arrows flew at him. Both missed cleanly, but the distraction was enough to bolster the confidence of the two close to him still. They rushed in. The prince spun and the sword dissappeared in a flash from his hand. Taking the glaive in both hands he sliced it across the suprised face of the one wielding the small sword. He fell dead, tumbling down the steps. 

The second swordsman rushed up the steps and slashed at Clariburnus' side as he did. The blade skipped off the prince's cloak as if it were made of stone. The startled swordsman stumbled back a step or two. The prince turned and shook his head, "I warned you." He held out a hand and spoke several soft words. Lightning shot from his hand and pierced first the swordsman and then the archer standing forty feet behind him. Both men jolted from the power then crumpled to the ground smouldering and twitching a little. 

Clariburnus resummoned the sword from his hand and tossed it to the side and put his glaive away into the magical glove. He walked over to the swordsman who was just finishing shedding the burning armored jacket. The attacker reached down for his sword when the prince's black boot slammed down on top of it. "Who sent you?"

The man stammered, "M'lord, we had no choice..." 

Clariburnus nodded. "I know. Thats the way it works around here. You also know that if you don't tell me who your death will be not only slow but very painful."

The man shook his head, "I can't m'lord. He has my family. Please... be merciful." 

Clariburnus growled, his shadowy self was warring for control. He tried not to shake the man too hard as he snatched him up. He couldn't contain it, the shadow burst forth to control his mind. He flung the man at the shrine. He landed hard against one of the supports. The support cracked as did the man's back. He fell with a yell, whimpering and trying to hold his back. Clariburnus lifted him back up and growled, "Who!?"

The man sobbed, "I can't..."

Clariburnus flung him at the altar. The man slammed into it and tumbled over the top, then crumpled and rolled down several of the steps on the other side. He was barely moaning when the prince of Shade reached down to pluck him up one more time. The Prince stepped into a shadow with the man, dissappearing from sight.

He walked back out of the shadow in the entrance hall to the Chamberlain's palace. The Chamberlain stood talking to one of his underlings. He quirked an eyebrow as the Prince entered and flung the broken swordsman at the Chamberlain's feet. "One of yours?"

The Chamberlain shook his head and shrugged, "I don't recognize him."

Clariburnus thrust a finger at the Chamberlain, "I highly suggest you stay out of my business and away from me."

The Chamberlain held up his hands, "I honestly don't know what you are talking." His smiled enough to let Clariburnus know he was lieing. 

The broken swordsman reached a bloody hand up to paw at the robe of the Chamberlain, "Please lord, spare my-" The Chamberlain's staff snapped against his head, flashing with dark energy. The swordsman's head crunched as easy as ripe fruit. 

Clariburnus smoldered with rage. He turned and stormed out. The Chamberlain smiled and turned to his underling. "Now send them... he's used his shadow walk for the day. They will be on their own." The underling nodded and scurried off to fulfill his master's request.


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## Wraithdrit (Jun 6, 2003)

*More side story...*

Serin sighed and looked down at the valley beneath them. Brilliant idea she had, taking an over mountain route instead of going around to the north. Everyone knew that if you could find away through the mountains it would be the fastest way from Tethyamar to Dagger Falls, she figured it was a good time to find it. It had not occurred to her that if such a route had existed the dwarves of Tethyamar would have blazed the trail long ago. 

Now here she stood, atop a fifty foot cliff, overlooking a lush valley with another fairly sizeable cliff on the other side.  To the right and left of the valley were even higher cliffs, far off to the right, one mountain top held an ancient set of Netherese ruins. 

Serin glanced back at her prisoner. The priestess sat quietly, her hands fidgeting with the tattered end of a scarf. It was Harvestide and in the mountains it was getting cold already. 

Serin cursed knowing that if she had only taken the established route she would be sitting in Dagger Falls by now, enjoying some warmed cider, maybe even enjoying the company of someone who was not either under her command or under her watchful eye. 

"Sgt Serin... we found a way down." Private Hultin jogged up, smiling a bit. He seemed rather excited. Serin could not help but smile. "And there is a way up the other side. Its all very well overgrown, has not been used in a long while, but it should be passable with a bit of work."

Serin nodded, "Good job Private." She turned to the others, "You heard him. Form up. I want Hultin and Ferill up front. Vert and Crencon, you take the rear, keep your eyes out, these parts are fairly wild. Probably orc country." 

"And where do you want me?" It was Alethra, the Banite Priestess. The priestess was smiling darkly.

Serin frowned, "You are with me. Just remember your oath to King Tethyamar."

Alethra snorted, "Don't you mean 'King' Alepounder?" Her emphasis on the word King made it obvious what she thought of the Kings newly found title.

Serin grabbed Alethra by the shoulder as the priestess stood. "Whatever, just walk." She shoved the Banite forward. Serin could not really stomach the thought of returning this priestess to her people, but she was not about to go against the King's orders. How many of her own kin had this priestess ordered slaughtered? The Zhentarim were no better than the orcs they often hired to do their dirty work. Benevolent dictatorship, thats what the elite in the Zhentarim liked to the think of themselves as. They held an iron fist over their people because only they knew what was best for them. Right, thought Serin, Fzoul knows best. At least when the Zhentarim where under Senemmon there was some intelligence at the top. With Fzoul now in charge it was all for Bane and nothing else. It made Serin sick to think about it.

Lost in her thoughts, she was not really paying much attention to the trail they were led down. Her bow was in her hand, an arrow was nocked, but she was not really ready for the explosion of moment that hit her like a run away horse. It was proceeded by a howl, that gave her just enough warning to look up before a massive brutish orc slammed into her, throwing her to the ground. 

Ahead and behind her the cries were repeated. Startled militia men could be heard yelling. Hultin died instantly when an orc sprang from its hidden perch amongst a tree and landed on Hultin, axe first. It turned on Ferill in a flash. Ferill back-peddled and managed to duck under his attackers first blow. He never saw the second orc come at him from behind. He just felt the sharp pain in his back and chest. He looked down and saw the tip of a spear thrust from his chest. His eyes closed and he died a moment later. 

Two militia men in the middle managed to bring their bows up and loose arrows at the front two orcs. The orcs fell to the ground dead, a pair of arrows sticking out of each orc's chest. To the back Vert heard the whoosh of the thrown axe and managed to duck, but the axe sailed into Crencon, embedding in his shoulder. The wounded militiaman stumbled to his knees as another orc ran up and sliced with a massive greataxe. The blade was not very sharp, more ripping his head off than really cutting it from his shoulders. 

Vert took advantage of the orcs momentary distraction and stepped in, stabbing the orc in the gut with his short sword. The orc howled in pain and let loose of his axe as Vert twisted and dug with the short sword. Vert's hand was covered with gore and orc blood as the beastial humanoid fell to its knees in front of him. He heard the howl of another orc coming from behind him. Spinning he only barely managed to parry its attack.

The militiamen in the middle turned their bows in either direction, trying to get shots off as more orcs burst from the brush. Two more orcs fell, but there were too many of them. The bowmen dropped their bows and tried to get their swords out but the last two orcs got to them too quickly. Both men fell dead, their chest's opened up by the orc's swords. 

On the ground, Serin wrestled with the brute that had knocked her down. It brought a knife down, fast and hard at her head. She barely managed to dodge to the side. She grab at his wrist and the two fought for control of the blade. 

Vert called out to Serin, "There are too many of them!" He parried another attack and skittered to one side as another orc joined the one attacking him. It was just him and Sgt Serin left, he thought.

Serin groaned against the weight and strength of the orc. She could smell his disgusting odor and it made her want to gag. She did not have time to think about it though, fighting for her life with the angry brute. A loud sickening thunk sounded above her and the orc's eyes rolled into the back of its head. Alethra stood over Serin, holding a bloody rock. 

Serin yelled, "Look out!" Alethra lept forward over Serin, the orc coming up behind her caught nothing but air with its sword swipe. Serin hefted the unconscious orc off of her and grabbed his knife. She spin it in her grasp and flung it at the oncoming orc. The knife buried in its throat. The orc sunk to its knees then crumpled to the ground, blood gurgling from its mouth.

Vert parried as fast as he could, but the two orcs were moving to flank him. Once they did, he knew he would be dead. He moved to keep a tree between him and one attacker. That successful he lashed out at the other orc after parrying another attack. His blade sunk into the orcs shoulder, but did not penetrate enough to take the orc down. It howled in pain and stumbled back while its companion darted to try and take advantage of Vert's over extension. Its blade swung down hard. The blow severed Vert's wrist, his hand and sword fell to the ground with a soft thump. Vert screamed and stumbled back, his free hand gripping the end of his bloody wrist. 

The two orcs move forward, slower, almost cocky. The wounded one raised its sword to deliver a final blow. With a soft meaty thunk an arrow stabbed through its elbow. The orc screamed and dropped its sword. Another arrow seemed to sprout from the side of its head. The orc fell dead at Vert's feet. Serin pulled another arrow out of her quiver.

The other orc spun on her and howled out its rage, charging at her. She held her ground and nocked another arrow. Instead of aiming at its chest or head, she let the arrow fly when her bow was still aimed low. The arrow ripped through the orc's knee, sending it sprawling to the ground in front of her. She buried a second arrow in its chest, pinning it to the ground. When it tried to continue to get up, she buried a third arrow in its head. It finally stopped moving. 

Alethra was already wrapping the scarf she had worn around Vert's wrist when Serin got there. Alethra did not even need to be asked, "He is going to live for now, but if we don't get him some healing soon, he will bleed to death out here," the priestess informed Serin.

"We are still half a day from Dagger Falls, if we are lucky."

"He won't make it that far."

"Can you do anything more for him?" Serin knew the answer.

"I've done all I can without calling on Bane's aid." Alethra smiled up at Serin. One of the other militia men groaned, there were others still alive, but they too would die soon without Alethra's aid. 

"Why should I trust you? You'll betray us the moment you can. Besides I do not have a holy symbol of your god handy."
Alethra pointed to the Banesword strapped to Serin's back. "That will do. But I will only help you if you let me go afterwards. I give you my word that I will not attack you or your men this day. I will help you out of this valley, then I will head north, returning to my home, with the sword."

Serin growled in frustration. "Fine. Bargained well and done. Now heal him!" She pulled the sword carefully from her back and tossed it to Alethra's feet. She quickly nocked an arrow and muttered, "One false move and I will put an arrow through your head." She leveled the bow at Alethra as the priestess picked up the sword and smiled. She unwrapped it, revealing the symbol to Bane on its hilt. She intoned a dark prayer and put the severed hand up to the bloody wrist. Muscles shot from bloody stump, attached to the hand and drew it back in. Vert screamed in pain and passed out. Serin pulled back the string and prepared to loose.

"Bane's healing is not all light and harp music, Sgt! Interrupt me now and he WILL die." The priestess kept going, the skin of his hand seemed to crawl forward to cover the wound, till finally nothing of the wound remained. Vert's face went from an expression of pain to no expression at all. "Almost finished... " She cast one more spell of some sort and Vert seemed to sleep gently finally.  Alethra stood and looked at Serin. Serin still had the bowstring pulled back. The hatred in her eyes was so deep Alethra could not help but smile. She walked half a step forward, placing her chest an inch from the end of the arrow. "I have others to attend to Sgt. So either break your word and kill me or lower the bow and get out of my way."

Serin lowered the bow and frowned. She regarded Alethra for a few moments then nodded. "Fine..." She would have to release the priestess now. She had given her word, and the priestess had kept her part of the bargain. Serin hoped that the Heroes of Tethyamar would forgive her. She looked at the fallen comrades around her. Most of them were dead. The few that lived were hurt badly. All because she wanted to be the one to find the over mountain route. She had been a fool, she thought.

As the few survivors gathered themselves for the rest of the journey, Serin determined that when she made it back to Dagger Falls she would resign the militia. Maybe King Tethyamar would find it in his heart to forgive her, but she knew she was not fit to lead people. Maybe he had a place for her in his new kingdom.


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## Wraithdrit (Jun 9, 2003)

*Session 9 - Log 1*

Durgaden took several minutes to get out of his gear and wipe down his armor, shield and weaponry, making sure that rust would not settle in. In the meantime, Tanerus had dropped his magical bag, lightening his load enough that he was able to swim better. He dived into the water and began to swim around, looking to see if the elemental had left and victim’s corpses intact. 

The swimming was not as easy as Tanerus had anticipated. The bottom of the basin seemed to glow and water was flowing in from an opening there. Tanerus tried to swim closer to the opening, but the out flowing water kept pushing him back up. He bobbed back up the surface and swam over to examine the now underwater dock and the other underwater exit from the room. It was obvious that the water level here used to be much lower, at the level of the dock. But something had caused the water level to rise dramatically, cutting off the lower exit from the room. The tunnel led off to the southeast, leaving the massive chamber near the dock. It sloped downward, and as Tanerus got closer he could tell that if he continued forward he would probably be swept into the tunnel and out of the room. 

He turned and swam back toward the dock, noticing that a small skiff was tucked under the dock and tied to one of the dock’s posts. He cut it loose and shoved it from beneath the dock. 

Above the party watched the halfling swim to and fro. Durgaden looked quizzically at the skiff when it popped up out of the water. “What on earth is that?”

Amador looked at Durgaden with a smirk, “It’s called a boat.”

Durgaden frowned. “I know that. Where’s it gonna go? There are no ways out.”

Tanerus clambered into the boat and rowed over to beneath the rest of his companions, “Climb on down. We can use the boat to get over to the stairs, that way you guys don’t have to try and jump the part of the bridge that is out.”

Will nodded, “Works for me.” The group slid down the rope and into the boat. When they got to the stairs, Tanerus drove a spike into the stone and tied the boat off. The group began the long climb up the steps. They passed through the exit into a long tunnel of stairs that led upward into darkness. Farther and farther up they went. Step after step the group drudged upward, wondering if the steps would ever end.

Will commented between breaths, “Steps are uneven, its for better defense, hard to run up them.”

Durgaden growled, also half out of breath, “They ain’t dwarven built.”

Will shook his head, “No… they are Netherese.”

Amador nodded, “The dwarves must have taken advantage of this place already existing.”

Tanerus called a halt, “The stairs open up ahead.” He went ahead to scout, then came back after a few moments. “Spiral stairs now…”

Amador groaned, “More stairs? May Corellian strike down whomever thought of these stairs.”

Durgaden grunted, “Seems pretty solid idea for defense… let someone try to raid this place from the Underdark.”

Tanerus coughed lightly, getting everyone’s attention, then continued. “Stairs spiral out around the column of up flowing water.”

Will nodded, “The enchantment that causes that water to raise has got to be on the magnitude of Elven High Magic.”

Amador whistled, “Similar to Mythals? That is some enchantment. Takes multiple high mages to cast.”

Tanerus cut back in. “The water is not flowing up as much as it used to. There is smoothing in the stone around the center of the stairs. The water doesn’t reach that point, so couldn’t cause it now… the water column used to be thicker.”

Will smiled, “And thus the higher water level below.”

Tanerus nodded, “That was my thought.” The group continued forward till Tanerus called another stop. The rest of the group joined him at a certain step. The halfling pointed the beam of his hooded lantern at a step a few steps up. “See the crack in the railing?”

Durgaden frowned, “What cra-… oh, yeah, I see it now. A trap?”

Tanerus nodded, “Aye. The railing drops away, then the floor, in sections.” He followed the curve of the stairs with his lantern all the way around to directly above them. “All of this above us would pivot down. I’d make a huge spiral right into the pit.” 

Durgaden looked over the edge of the railing. Far below he knew there was a lake, but it was well out of sight. “Impressive trap.”

Will nodded, “Don’t think the water would break your fall either. From this high, it would be like landing on stone.”

Tanerus pulled forth a set of tools and began pounding spikes into the cracks in several places. “This won’t hold it long, but might hold it for a few moments, and it certainly won’t hold a lot of weight.”

Durgaden growled, “There must be a mechanism to stop it.”

Will shook his head, “Not on this side.”

Amador nodded, “Guards would be posted above at all times, so you would just need to call to them… mechanism must be up there.”

Tanerus looked at the wall, took a breath or two, let one out and grabbed a hold of the rock. He began to slide along the wall slowly, carefully climbing along. He was about halfway around the spiral when a hand hold he chose flaked off beneath his fingers. He cursed softly as he fell back. His fingers scraped off the rock, unable to find another purchase.

His foot landed solidly on the stone, a foot and a half from the wall. Beneath him there was a load click followed by several louder clicks that spiraled down to the beginning of the trap.

The rest of the group saw the first section of the trap start to pivot toward the center, till the spikes were reached. The heavy stone sections of stairs and railings leaned hard on the spikes. The metal of the spikes groaned, bits of stone flaked from around them. 

Tanerus wasted no time. He knew the trap was heavy enough to rip through his spikes soon enough. He looked at the wall, thought of trying to climb back up it, but decided that his best bet was to just run. He took the steps as fast as he could bolting upward.

Below the first spike gave. The railing pivoted out, locking into place. The second and third spikes gave with the sound of rending metal ringing up the spiral staircase. The rest of the party held their breath as section after section of railing started to pivot away, followed by section after section of stairs. Tanerus ran, and ran, curving around the spiral staircase. Beside him he saw the railing pivoting away. He knew the floor would be just behind it. At the last possible moment, he leapt, the floor falling away beneath him. He landed on solid stairs, but his hands scraped against smooth stone, his legs dangled loose beneath him.

Amador winced and half turned away, he knew he couldn’t help, and he didn’t want to see Tanerus fall helplessly to his death.

Will whispered softly under his breath. “Come on Tanerus…”

Durgaden took a half step forward. He would never reach the falling halfling, but he could not just stand and watch him fall.

Tanerus’ could not get a grip on the steps. He started to slip backward, then his hand finally found the first solid section of railing. His fingers hooked the stone and he pulled as hard as he could. At last he scrambled up onto a small landing. He panted, lying on his back, his eyes closed. His heart pounded in his chest. 

Durgaden called up to him. “You alright?”

Tanerus huffed gently and sat up and turned to look down at them, “Yeah, fine. No problem.” His eyes turned to focus down the shaft past the column of water. They had been climbing steps for an hour at least. He knew if he had failed, he would be dead. He swallowed and stood, examining the landing. There was a door ahead of him. He pulled his tools out and started to examine the door.

Below the halfling Durgaden turned to Will. “Impressive trap. We need to get the boys to build one of those in the mines.” He beamed, the danger to Tanerus forgotten now that the halfling was all right.

Will just shook his head in amazement. He was shocked that they group had gotten this far. After all the dangers they had faced, not a single member of their crew had died.

If only he had known that it was not to last…


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## Wraithdrit (Jun 11, 2003)

*Session 9 - Log 2*

Tanerus called down from above, “There is a door here… might hold a way to reset the trap.” He examined the door closely and determined it was not trapped. He opened it and gasped softly at the sight before him. Ancient corpses lay scattered about a small room. All were in a state of advanced decomposition, all except one. On the far wall was pinned a single figure. Four arrows pierced its body in various places. One pierced its left arm, one pierced its right arm, one pierced its left shoulder, and one pierced the figure in the stomach. 

The figure seemed to have not decomposed at all. Tanerus immediately brought up his sword and kept it at the ready, not trusting the situation at all. He noticed that the figure was wearing full plate armor, and though it had a helmet on, the helmets faceplate was open. The creature’s skin was a dusky gray. It was not the gray of decay, but a skin color that Tanerus had never seen before. The figure still had the rest of its gear as well. A cloak was clasped around its neck, a shield strapped to one, a bag tied to its belt and a bastard sword was still clasped in his hand.

Tanerus glanced around the rest of the room and noticed in the close right hand corner there was a massive stone box with a large level built into it. The lever was covered in cobwebs, but the cobwebs dangled loosely from the lever, not attached to the wall like Tanerus was expecting. It could only mean the lever had been moved recently. Tanerus called over his shoulder, “There is a lever up here, stand clear!” 

He glanced back at the still figure and started as he thought he saw the figures eyes move. Quickly he shoved the lever back to its previous position, and then noticed a small locking lever so he slid it in place.

Below in the stairwell the stairs slowly reset to their original position. When everything was back to its proper position Tanerus called down, “It should be safe!” 

Durgaden frowned and muttered, “Should be?” He tentatively stepped forward then leapt back. Nothing happened so he repeated the test a few times till he stood firmly on the staircase.

Will smiled, “Guess he figured it out.” The group quickly went up the stairs to the small landing that led to the door. When the others saw the figure they all seemed a bit worried.

Amador frowned, “I do not like the look of it.”

Will cast a quick spell, “There is magic. Lots of it. His sword, his armor, a ring… but those arrows, they are all magical. They have put some sort of enchantment over him… I think it’s a stasis field of some sort.”

Durgaden walked up and poked at the figure in the chest with the end of his axe. “What is it?” 

Will shrugged, “Some form of outsider I would say.”

Durgaden frowned at it. “Looks part elf… maybe a half drow?”

Will nodded, “Seems right. But with something else mixed in.”

Amador had heard enough. “Kill it.”

Tanerus lifted an eyebrow and looked at Amador quizzically. “We don’t even know whose side he is on.”

Amador growled, “Its drow, what does it matter.”

Tanerus corrected, “Part drow.”

Durgaden frowned, “Well lets just relieve him of this…” He reached down and started to try and tug the sword from the figures grasp.

Will quickly hissed, “Stop! Every time you disturb it, the enchantment weakens.”

Durgaden left the sword alone and grabbed the shield arm instead, “Lets at least have a look at his shield.” He swung the shield forward, bending the arm at the elbow. The front of the shield was painted to show a beautiful naked female drow dancing in front of a full moon, holding a bastard sword. Her hair flowed down around her to cover various parts of her.

Amador frowned. “Eilistraee, Goddes of the Dance. One of the few… ‘good’ drow gods.”

Will seemed surprised. “Good drow? So she opposes Lolth. Could be useful.”

Tanerus took a few steps back, “Lets just leave it be.”

Will shook his head, “We need all the help we can get.”

Durgaden looked back at the part drow and reached for the sword again. “Well he ain’t wakin’ up with that in his hand.” He started tugging on the sword again. 

Will frowned, “Pull out the arrows… the arrows.” He was not about to get close to it. He glanced nervously up and down the steps. 

Durgaden sighed and ripped three of the arrows out. Each arrow seemed to disintegrate when it was pulled out. There was only one left. “I ain’t wakin’ ‘im with a sword in his hand.” He grabbed the sword, planted a foot the arm and yanked hard. The sword popped from the gauntleted hand and the last arrow shattered into dust. The figure groaned and fell forward, landing with a dull thump on the floor. The arrow wounds oozed blood. 

Slowly the figure stirred. Durgaden growled at it from where he stood above him. “What are you?”

Slowly the figure shifted to a seated position. “I’m a … paladin… of m’lady, Eilistraee.” He brought his free hand slowly up and touched his chest. The hand glowed and a few of his wounds began to close. The pain in his eyes receded. “Pray tell, what year is it?” His accent was strange to say the least.

Durgaden frowned, “1372. How long you been hanging on that wall?”

The half-drow looked up at the dwarf, “Couple hundred years it would seem.” He opened and closed his mouth, trying to swallow away two hundred years of cottonmouth. His limbs were heavy, but the strength was gaining in them slowly. “And who are you?”

Durgaden stood a little taller, “Durgaden Alepounder Tethyamar. And ye?”

The figure blinked at the word Tethyamar, “I am called Mytrym. So the kingdom did not fall?”

Durgaden shook his head, “It fell alright, but we have taken it back over. My companions and I. We are hunting drow that stole from the ruins of the kingdom. You know anything about them?”

Mytrym smiled, “I know a bit about them. I was here looking into whether or not they were aiding the horde in the attacks on Tethyamar. Last thing I remember was a fey’ri wench leading a pair of archers and a mob of goblins against me. The goblins were no problem, but the archers arrows, as you can see… were enchanted.”

Will frowned, “She didn’t happen to have long black hair, small horns, bat wings and wear lots of red and purple.”

Mytrym frowned, “Aye she did… you know her?”

Tanerus growled, “Ah bugger it all, that’s Tursa. We let her get away.” Tanerus quickly explained their encounters with Tursa.

Mytrym continued to frown, he knew the name, but his memory was hazy. “I think that was her name, I must have… known her from before the battle as well. Yes, I seem to remember I knew her, but I don’t know how.”

Durgaden thought a moment. “We could use your help, Mytrym. We are going after some drow that is collecting items from different places. They already have a gnome crystal, a dwarven axe, and elven circlet.”

Mytrym frowned, “The drow are collecting items from various races? This is not good. Not good at all. Yes. I will help you. Maybe I can run into this... Tursa again with you as well.”


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## Wraithdrit (Jun 13, 2003)

*Session 9 - Log 3*

*The Aerie
Harvestide, 1372*


The small group once again ascended high up into the mountain. The steps once again stopped in a small landing, a doorway opening to a long hallway ahead of them. Durgaden noted, “I feel the air moving and a chill. We are near an opening of some sort.”

The group moved cautiously in, Tanerus in the lead as usual. The halfling stopped at side doorway, glancing into a small chamber. “Lots of old tackle here.” Ancient large saddles, bridles, bits, and harnesses lined the walls. The leather was old and cracked, not having been taken care of in a couple hundred years. All the metal parts were rusting away and the group quickly decided to move on.

The hallway ended abruptly in another open doorway, but this one was mostly blocked. The door stood wide open, but a massive stone slab had been leaned against the door from the other side. There was enough space around the edges that air flowed through, but not even Tanerus could squeeze through. He checked quickly to make sure the slab was not rigged then moved out of the way.

Durgaden and Mytrym stepped up and threw their shoulders against the slab. Their boots scraped along the stone, trying to find purchase. Finally the slab shifted and fell forward with a massive thud. 

A blast of cold air blew past the group as they stood looking in awe at the massive cavern in front of them. To the left side water flowed down into a basin and then flowed back out down a drain. To the right and ahead the cavern opened up.

Cautiously the group began moving forward, fanning out to see what they could find. Tanerus shifted to the right and stopped. Snow spilled out of the massive side cavern. The place was huge, and the even the side cavern could only barely be seen into with the light sources the group was using. 

Tanerus leaned down and looked at the snow. “What’s snow doing inside?” he muttered softly to himself. His question was never answered. In the middle of the cavern between Durgaden and Mytrym fog started billowing into existence. The fog grew unnaturally fast, filling most of the massive chamber. 

Durgaden growled, “I can’t see a thing!”

Mytrym had put his sword away in favor of his bow in the large cavern. He raised it and scanned the fog around him for assailants. He could not sense any evil nearby, but he had a bad feeling about this whole thing. “This was the griffon cavern back when I came through. We landed down ahead of us.” He quietly called upon the divinity of his lady Eilistraee. He felt her favor wash over him, strengthening his muscles. 

Tanerus backed up, away from the snowy section of cavern. He cocked his head to one side, listening. Will was casting something. But beyond that there was something else, something he could not quite discern.

Amador shifted to one side. “I don’t like this… I don’t like this at all.”

Will’s spell finished and the fog began to recede as quickly as it formed. Then they all heard it, massive quick steps, the crunching of snow, into the light from the snowy section of the cavern charged a massive dragon.

The thing screamed out its anger at the intrusion, and halfway through the scream the pitch shifted and with the sound came blowing ice and snow as the dragon breathed its deadly breath weapon in a huge cone that covered Tanerus, Durgaden, Mytrym and Amador.

Tanerus threw himself to one side, barely managing to escape the blast completely. Durgaden, Mytrym and Amador shielded themselves as best they could. 

Amador reacted first. Before the blast of cold was even ended he raised his hands and called upon the might of his deity. A huge column of flame erupted around the dragon, bathing it in fire. The creature cried out in pain, its head whipping side to side.

Mytrm raised his bow, muttering another prayer to Eilistraee. The arrow glowed with the power of his goddess and he released. The arrow slammed into the beast’s breast, penetrating deeply. 

Will could not see the beast yet, but he knew well enough what was happening. He opened the Book of Eternal Flame and flipped to a marked page. He began reciting the incantation for a fireball, reading the extra words from the pages of the book, strengthening the spell. It cost him time though. Normally the spell would already have been released to streak toward its target. Will held it back though, using the books knowledge to grow the spell stronger.

Durgaden lowered his head and charged forward. He swung his axe in a wide arc and slammed it into one of the beast’s legs. But the blade did not bite. It bounced harmlessly off the outer scales of the dragon’s thick hide.

Tanerus lifted the hood of his cloak and slipped into hiding. He moved slowly towards the dragon’s flank, examining its side, hoping he could find a weak spot in the hide.

The dragon recovered from the flame strike and was not about to be out maneuvered. It reared up and lashed out at both Durgaden and Tanerus. Apparently it could see right through the halfling’s enchanted cloak. The dragon was unnaturally fast, striking out with claws, a bite, its wings and its tail. Durgaden and Tanerus were both battered, but both held their ground for now. 

Amador called upon the power of Corellian again, this time he ripped open a blast of holy energy across the beast. Again it roared in pain and surprise. Mytrym threw his bow to the side and charged forward, pulling forth his sword. Tanerus weathered the mighty blows of the dragon and lashed out with his short sword. He found a small hole in the scales and drove the sword deep into the beast’s side. Durgaden could not find a good spot for his axe to bite though; again and again it bounced off the dragon’s thick scales. 

Then fire exploded above them all, enveloping the dragon’s head in bright flames. The dragon reared back in shock and anger. Its head was blackened, its bluish white scales marred by the intense fire. A few of the horns atop its head had been blasted off by the shock of the blast. The creature was definitely hurting now, but not out of the fight by a long shot. It launched itself into the air. Durgaden’s axe found a small hole as the creature crouched to leap and he capitalized on it, opening up the dragon’s side as it leapt into the air. 

The dragon flew forward and then toward the far side of the cavern. It spun and beat its massive wings to stay aloft, turning to stare at the young wizard that had cast the so very painful fireball at him. The dragon belched forth another cone of wintry death. The shards of ice and blast of cold slammed into Will. The wizard stumbled back and nearly dropped the book when his hands went numb with the cold. The blast also caught Amador. The priest stumbled to against one wall, using the wall for support as the blast washed over him. 

All the elf could think about when the blast ended was the pain he was feeling. He called upon his deity, healing himself of some of the many wounds the ice had ripped open. 

Mytrym watched the dragon streak overhead. He was not about to let the beast get away. He turned and leapt into the air after the creature. His cloak whipped out around him, turning from fine cloth to a massive set of wings. He flew after the dragon. As he did he called upon his lady, a glow of warmth flowed over him, closing a few of his wounds. 

Durgaden cursed as the dragon fled from him. He gave chase, his short legs pumping, his magic boots propelling him forward with each step. He pulled out a hand axe as he bounded forward and threw weapon at the hovering beast. It hit the currents of air the dragon’s wings were causing and deflected harmlessly to one side. 

Will shook off the effects of the cold and closed the book, letting it fall to his side. The book was connected to his belt by a leather tether. He fell into the practiced movements of another fireball. The small pea shaped flame rocketed toward the dragon and exploded in mid air around it. But this time the spell seemed to just bleed off the dragon’s scales. Its innate resistance to magic had finally protected the creature. 

Tanerus slid to a corner where he could see the dragon but have plenty of cover. He pulled out a wand of fireballs. Will gave him the wand after the fight with the water elemental. He pointed the wand at the dragon and called out the command word. Nothing happened. His mind raced through the methods Will had explained. He must have missed one of the syllables of the complex command word.

The dragon was not about to face Mytrym in the air. It rocketed away from him, turning and flying into the darkness of a massive tunnel ahead. The paladin landed and quickly uncorked a potion. Durgaden, Will and Tanerus all did the same. Amador healed himself as well. Several tense moments went by. 

Amador slipped into the dragon’s lair, looking for something that might help them in the fight. He cast a light spell so he could see. His heart sunk. There in front of him were all manner of coins, a few weapons, some armor. It was all covered in a thick layer of ice. There was no way it would aid them in this fight.

Durgaden and Mytrym both continued to drink potions, healing themselves of several of their wounds. They watched the cavern opening, waiting to see if the creature planned to return. Will moved up, casting a shield spell up in front of him, just in case the dragon got too close. Durgaden pulled his crossbow out and loaded a bolt. Mytrym retrieved his bow and stowed it away. 

Durgaden suddenly called out, “Its back!” His dwarven site saw the thing just before the others did. It charged out of the cavern ahead and stopped, its jaws snapped open and it breathed once more. Will was blasted nearly off his feet. Durgaden and Mytrym weathered the blasts and charged forward. Durgaden stopped just long enough to raise the crossbow and release the bolt. It skipped harmlessly off the beast. Mytrym reached the dragon and slammed his bastard sword forward, but he too could not find a good purchase between the scales and the blade bounced off harmlessly. 

Tanerus once again tried using the wand. This time it succeeded. A small ball of fire flew forward and exploded behind the dragon. It roared in pain but ignored the small halfling in favor of the two warriors in front of it. Amador released a pair of arrows from his bow. One of the magic arrows sunk into the dragon’s neck, the other flew wide. 

Will backed off, hoping he was out of range of the dangerous breath. He looked up at the ceiling and smiled as he cast his next spell. A huge chunk of the cavern’s ceiling softened and turned to mud. The massive rain of mud crashed down on the dragon, slamming into it. Will chuckled, “Resist that…”

The dragon stumbled in the mud and then shifted to one side. It looked down at Durgaden and Mytrym and opened its mouth, breathing out its deadly breath yet again. Durgaden reeled from the pain, but stood his ground. Mytrym dropped to one knee, but quickly stood back up. Both warriors could barely stand. If they did not stand though, the beast was sure to launch into the rest of their companions. The fight would be short lived then. 

Durgaden’s weakened arm hefted his axe up. He held his shield ahead of him and set his jaw so as his teeth would not chatter in the cold. He could feel that his breastplate was frozen to him in places. His limbs did not want to move, but he was not going to go down without a fight. Ice hung from his beard. He opened his mouth and yelled, “For Tethyamar!” He leapt forward and buried his axe in the beast’s chest. Blood arched from the wound and the dragon stumbled. Its head whipped around, its scarred and burned eyes focused on the dwarf.

Mytrym leapt into the air, his wings billowing out again. The dragon’s head launched down toward Durgaden, but Mytrym got in the way. He slammed his bastard sword into the creatures muzzle, knocking its head to the side, but not really hurting it. 

Tanerus loosed another fireball from the wand. It exploded behind the dragon, enveloping its back half in flames yet again. The creature roared out in pain, shifting its weight side to side, trying to escape the flames. Durgaden’s axe came loose and the dwarf stumbled back a little. The dragon turned towards the dwarf a bit more, turning its flank to flying Mytrym. 

Mytrym was in pain. His armor was covered in flecks of ice. The blood of his ancestors usually kept him from feeling pain from fire or ice. But the dragon’s breath weapon had taken a toll on him. The old arrow wounds ached, and every movement was difficult. He knew he had to stop the beast here though. If it made it to Will, Tanerus, or Amador, his new companions would be dead. He saw the dragon shifting, brought his shield up, trying to defend himself.

Durgaden saw the dragon rear up, he too held his shield high, trying to block the dragon’s blows. A wing shot forward and slammed into Durgaden from the side. He cried out in pain, stumbled and fell to his knees on the ground. The other wing slammed into Mytrym, sending him spiraling toward the ground.

The paladin landed with a sickening crunch. He managed to half stand when the dragon’s tail whipped forward and took him off his feet. He landed a few feet from Durgaden. The dwarf started to lift his head. The paladin did not move.

Will thought the dragon almost looked like a rearing horse. Its front paws clawed at the air above his too prone companions. He searched his mind for a spell, but nothing he could think of would be able to save them.

Amador ran forward, stopping to begin casting a spell. It was a long spell though, designed to summon aid from another plane. He watched in horror as the dragon came down. 

Tanerus could feel the wand heating back up in his hand. He pulled it back, began reciting the words necessary to belch forth another fireball. He knew he was too late.

The dragon’s front paws came crashing to the ground. The cavern shook from the shock of it. One paw slammed down on Durgaden. Will saw the dwarf crushed beneath the massive weight. A claw pierce one leg, another his back, and one had gone straight through his head.

The other paw crushed Mytrym. The paladin lay on his back beneath the massive paw. Claws pierced his neck, chest and thigh. His eyes stared lifeless up at the dragon.

Tanerus finally felt the fireball rip from the wand. It exploded around the dragon’s head. The beast’s back legs stumbled, its eyes blinked one last time, then it collapsed back, its massive head fell to the ground resting between the bodies of Durgaden and Mytrym. With one last huff the dragon’s eyes also glazed over in death.

The three remaining companions ran forward. Amador was able to lift the massive paw from Durgaden. He rolled the dwarf out from under it and then fell to his knees when he saw the stare of death in the dwarf’s eyes. 

Tanerus ran up to the paw that had fallen on Mytrym, but when he got there, he saw the paladin was staring up at the ceiling, dead. The halfling sighed and shook his head.

Will stopped a ways away and stood in shock. He stared at the massive majestic creature that lay dead and then shifted his gaze between his two dead companions. It had finally happened. He knew sooner or later one of them would fall. He could not bear to look on the scene of death before him. He turned and walked away.


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## Wraithdrit (Jun 16, 2003)

*Session 9*

Will remained quiet all throughout the night. He did spend some time using a well-placed wall of fire to melt through the ice on the dragon’s hoard, dispelling it the moment the ice was thawed. He also took some time to extract a few of the more intact teeth and claws from the dragon’s corpse. 

Amador spent the night in prayer over the bodies of his two fallen comrades. He had laid both bodies out in comfortable positions and anointed both bodies with holy oils and sprinklings of blessed seeds from the deep forest. All night he prayed to Corellan to allow his friends either an entrance back to the physical realm from the great gray plane, or at least some measure of peace in whatever afterlife they found themselves in. He was not quite sure where Mytrym’s soul would end up, but the half-drow had at least shown he was courageous and willing to stand with him and his companions even against the direst of threats.

Tanerus spent the night sitting quietly by the small pool in the corner of the dragon’s lair. The sound of the water was enough to drown out the prayers Amador softly intoned. It was not that Tanerus minded the prayers, but they reminded him of what had occurred and the last thing he wanted right now was to think about the loss. Amador was strong, and Tanerus knew that in a few short hours both companions might be standing once again. Idly the halfling picked up stones off the cavern floor and tossed them into the water. The rest was welcome, even if the circumstances were not. 

Morning finally came and Amador prayed for another hour, feeling the powers of his god flowing gently into him. He finally stopped and moved to kneel next to Durgaden. He started the ritual that would return the king to life. He prayed long and hard, pleading with his god to guide Durgaden back. Finally his prayers trailed away. He swung his head to one side looking to Tanerus and Will. 

They could see the despair on the elf’s face. “I’m sorry my friends. His soul is content in the afterlife… Durgaden Alepounder Tethyamar is truly and forever dead.” He swallowed the lump in his throat and turned to Mytrym’s corpse. 

Will turned and walked away. His right hand held the Book of Eternal Flames tightly. He had what he wanted. He finally had it. But what was the cost? Had it truly been worth it in the end? Sure the book contained rituals and spells he had never even dreamed of. It also had new ways of making his existing spells more powerful. Durgaden was dead though. He was the King of Tethyamar. Now that he was gone, what would become of the fledgling nation? Will had hopes of seeing Tethyamar grow and become strong. His family could create a wonderful link between the dwarven kingdom and Dagger Falls. Now there was a good chance none of it would happen. Would the Durgaden’s dream of Tethyamar fall with him?

Tanerus sat down beside Durgaden’s body. The halfling reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear, nervously fidgeting, not knowing what to say or what to think. He had seen death many times. Companions had died in his arms, but nothing had prepared him for this. In just eight short days, this group had someone managed to come together against all odds and free Tethyamar from ancient evils and the blight of the Zhentarim. But now Durgaden was dead, and Tanerus was no closer to find the gnome’s treasure than he had been when he lost it. It was out always just out of his reach. 

A loud cough interrupted Tanerus and Will’s thoughts. They turned to see Mytrym sitting up. He was coughing up blood, blinking repeatedly and leaning heavily on Amador. Amador supported the half-breed’s weight, and then offered him a sip of water. “Easy Mytrym, the return from death can be a rough one. Sip this slowly.” Mytrym’s hands shook as he took hold of the water skin. He was a strange color naturally, but even that seemed pale now. Amador spoke soft words to Corellon. His hands glowed softly and poured healing energy into the drained paladin.

Slowly the color returned to Mytrym’s features. He set aside the water skin and laid his own hands upon his partially healed wounds and aided Amador in healing them. He looked to Durgaden then to the others. He looked confused a moment, then the realization hit him. “He stayed in the afterlife.” He bit his lower lip then nodded slowly. “I’m truly sorry my friends. I know he meant a lot to you.”

The companions had nothing to say. Finally Will broke the silence, “We should return his body to Tethyamar. We will take as much of this as we can.” He motioned to the dragon horde. 

With that the group set about loading up what they could. A liter was made for Durgaden, and the companions took turns carrying either end. The trip was slow and arduous, but soon enough the great underground gate of Tethyamar loomed ahead. Tanerus looked at the others, “I’ll go ahead and warn them… give me a few minutes.”

Tanerus returned a few minutes later, followed by a small group of dwarves. Chamberlain Stoutbeard led the small group. His face was a bit pale, but his jaw had a determined set to it. The dwarves took over the carrying of the liter and chanted ancient dwarven songs as they carried their dead king into Tethyamar. 

Later that day Gregor summoned Amador. “We have a problem. The King died without naming any heirs. We need you to call upon his spirit.”

Amador informed Gregor, “I know you worry about the kingdom, but don’t you think Durgaden went through enough? Leave his spirit at rest.”

Gregor shook his head, “I can’t damn it. Without a named heir this place will fall apart. You have got to contact him!” 

Amador nodded holding his hands up in surrender, “Alright, I’ll do it, but just once. Make sure you know everything you need to ask of him before I do so.”

Gregor nodded, “We just need to know who he wants to rule Tethyamar and what to do with his things. Oh, and then there is the book…”

Amador nodded. Ever since they returned from the dragon’s horde Will had locked himself away in his room. He had come out only a couple of times, and each time he carried the book with him wherever he went. Will was even quieter now than he had been before Durgaden’s death. 

Amador and Gregor went to Durgaden’s body and Amador intoned the proper prayers to his deity. He spoke for a few minutes with the spirit then turned to Gregor to relate what he had learned. “The King’s wishes were easy enough to discern. You are to be crowned King. His possessions are to be used to aid the kingdom. In this case he wants anything we can use to help track down and stop the collector to be used as such. Anything else he wants turned over to you. The book can remain in Will’s possession as long as he serves Tethyamar. If he ever leaves the service of the kingdom, Durgaden wants the book to remain.”

Gregor nodded, “So be it.”

By the afternoon everyone had heard the news. The companions had gone through Durgaden’s things with Gregor, pulling out those items they thought they could use. The rest Gregor took for storage in the kingdom’s armory. Finally Durgaden’s body was laid to rest during a small ceremony led by Amador. He did not know much about dwarven tradition, but he followed the guidance he had received by Gregor as well as what could remember from his own teaching on dwarven customs and culture.

Mytrym found Gregor in what he become the king’s study. “Your liege… can I have a moment?”

Gregor looked up at the newcomer and nodded, “Of course…Mytrym right? What is it?” He had heard of how Mytrym had fought side by side with his king, and was willing to trust the half-breed till he proved that the trust was not warranted.

Mytrym set a large bag on the desk. “I want this returned to you. It’s my share of the findings in the dragon’s lair. I think you and your people could benefit from it far more than I could.”

Gregor looked in the bag and was a bit shocked. “This is a lot of money. Are you sure? We can certainly use it, but won’t you need some?”

Mytrym shook his head, “I trust Eilistraee to provide for me. It is yours. Thank you for your time.” The paladin bowed, turned and walked out, leaving Gregor stunned and not really knowing what to think.

A couple of hours later Will walked in on where Amador, Mytrym and Tanerus were discussing their next step. Amador looked up at Will, “Ah, there you are Will… we were thinking that in the morning we would return to finish clearing out the Aerie. That way Gregor could have it staffed soon and we would have a waypoint between here and the next step of our trip into the Underdark. What do you think?”

Will looked at each one of them, and then spoke softly but clearly. “I’m not going with you. I’ve decided to stay in Tethyamar.”


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## Wraithdrit (Jun 18, 2003)

*Session 9.5 - Log 1*

Drena Najul was a very long way from home. She sat atop her horse, contemplating the valley below her. Her companion’s horse protested the pause, but Navar was able to calm his steed down with a soft whisper. Drena knew that beyond this small canyon and the fields barely visible on the other side was the final approach to the ruins of Tethyamar. There in the ruins she was hoping to finally catch up with her quarry. 

The Red Wizard that she knew only as Lurkhaus’ last known location was the ruins of Tethyamar. She could tell she was getting close, but now was not the time to become hasty and let her mark slip through her fingers. She swiveled to turn her masked visage toward Navar. Her voice was clear despite the enchanted mask that fully covered her face, “We are getting close now, be on the look out.” 

Navar was quiet as usual. The large man nodded then looked around, as if to show he was taking her recommendation seriously. It was not an order, for though Drena was a Rashemi Witch, she was not truly a member of the Ethran or Hathran so carried none of the authority of either. Even if she had been, anything she would say to Navar would be merely suggestion anyways. One did not order a scarred berserker around, regardless of how high in the Rashemi social structure you are. It just is not good for one’s health.

Navar and Drena had been traveling together for a very long ways. When she had been asked to undertake this assignment, she knew it would be some time before she would see her beloved homeland again, but that was a price she was willing to pay. Her village Othlor had chosen her to undertake this quest in the name of the goddess of magic. With all the Hathran that could have been chosen, the Othlor had instead chosen her. Many whispered that she would fail. Drena was going to enjoy proving them wrong. 

The sharp cry of her rashemi falcon familiar snapped Drena from her memories. She looked up to see the bird circling ahead. She and Navar were soon able to make out what had the bird upset. A battleground loomed before them. Between massive, limestone rocks there lay several rotting bodies. Some of the massive rocks were charred from magical fire. The smell of the dead was unmistakable.

Navar dismounted quickly. Even though the wind here was enough to chill Drena to the bone at times even through her flowing robes and cloak, the berserker preferred to go without sleeves and with only the thinnest of vests covering his torso. The shapes of many different runes covered most of the visible skin. Drena had long ago stopped trying to understand why it was Navar chose to carve his own skin into magical runes. It worked for him, and for her that was good enough. 

Navar knelt by one of the bodies and frowned, “Been dead at least a week.” 

Drena nodded, “Have the been searched?”

Navar nodded and point to some cut strings hanging off one corpse’s belt. “Aye… thoroughly.”

Drena nodded and glanced up as she felt her familiar tugging at her thoughts. The small hawk swooped in, letting out the ear-piercing shriek it was famous for before landing atop her outstretched forearm.  “Yes my little friend?” She nodded once then a second time and glanced up along the ridgeline. 

Navar followed her gaze but saw nothing. “What is it?” He rose to his feet and slipped his sword from its scabbard.

“Ruins… up there.” Drena pointed then turned her horse to pick through the rocks in that direction. 

Navar blinked and narrowed his eyes, staring at where she had indicated. He could not see any ruins, but that did not mean a thing. He had been proven time and again that the bird could see well better than him. He quickly slipped up into his saddle and followed Drena toward the ruins.

The old tower was half destroyed. Only a single door remained, and half the original outer wall. The two companions dismounted and slipped into the ruin and looked around. Drena cast as soft incantation then started to scan her surroundings. She point at one pile of rubble. “There… a trap-door.” 

Navar looked down and nodded. Yes, there was some sort of trap door hidden down there. He began to move the rubble blocking the trapdoor, quickly revealing it. He glanced up at her, “Ready?”

The ivory white and painted mask hid her features, but he could see her eyes were focused and ready. When she nodded, the plumes of feathers off either side of the mask bobbed gently. Navar pulled and the ancient trap door opened with a groan. Air sucked into the ancient shaft below. It had been a long time since the trap door had been opened. Drena looked down at Navar, “After you.”

Navar nodded and slid down the ladder leading down the shaft. Once below he lit a torch, illuminating a small corridor ending in a door. Drena slipped down behind him and then moved around to examine the door. Navar stepped forward after she studied it a few moments and grasped the handle. He pulled the door open and held his sword at the ready.

Beyond was a small well kept storeroom. Drena blinked and shook her head. There was not a bit of ancient dust on the boxes in side. There was no rubble and no ancient cobwebs. Navar too frowned, something was definitely not right. He began to step forward, but Drena laid a hand on his shoulder. “Wait.” She moved to beside him and rubbed a hand along the doorway. Faintly they could make out a soft glow coming from the doorframe. 

When Navar saw it he took a half step back. The berserker snarled an ancient Rashemi curse and held his sword hilt tighter. 

Drena muttered a few arcane words and the glow of the enchantment flared in her vision. There was definitely a small amount of magic on the doorway. She waited and concentrated till she could see the ebb and flow of the magical aura. The pattern was distinctive. It was some form of transmutation magic. She thought through the list of possible uses until it struck her. “Teleportation.” 

Navar growled, “Or a trap more likely.” 

Drena nodded, “Aye, one way to be sure.” She laid a single hand on the berserker and softly cast a fairly complex little spell. Space warped around the two, and when things came back into focus they were standing in the middle of the storeroom. 

Navar frowned even further. “Thanks… I think.” He cocked his head to one side. “Do you hear what I am hearing?” From a small doorway with a staircase on the otherside leading up and out of the storeroom could definitely be heard sounds drifting in from above.

Drena looked worried. “A bar room?” She pointed at a few of the crates, “Open some of those.” She started working on some of the stored supplies while Navar worked on a crate or two.

“All fresh supplies as far as I can tell,” Navar told her after opening a few crates.

Drena nodded, “Lets find out what is going on.” She walked up the stairs quickly. Navar followed, slipping his sword away at the last moment. The stairs led into a fairly comfortable common room of a tavern. The front doors of the tavern were hanging wide open, and people could be seen moving along a street outside. 

A barmaid approached them and smiled asking, “Care for anything to drink?” Drena stared at her a moment, started to speak but was cut off.

“Welcome!” The bartender raised his hands in greeting. “Welcome to my tavern… you must have come in from the gate below.

Navar scanned the room. Besides the barmaid and bartender, there were four other fellows in the bar as well. 

Drena looked at the bartender and nodded, stepping to the bar. Navar stepped up beside her. Drena spoke softly, “Yes, we did. Can you tell me where we are?”

The bartender smiled, “Why you are in Waterdeep! The City of Splendors!” He smiled. 

The barmaid slid up beside him behind the bar and asked again, “So care for a drink?”

Drena nodded slowly and muttered something about wine. All she could think about over and over again where the words the bartender had just uttered. She was so close to her target, now she was in Waterdeep? She growled, “Waterdeep?” Shaking her head she let herself just get mad, “Waterdeep?” Her voice raised and she slammed one hand down, “Damn it!”

The bartender chuckled, “Not where you wanted to be?” 

Navar nodded to the barmaid, “You have jhuild?” The barmaid nodded and slipped into a back room. Navar knew he would only be getting the exported version of jhuild. The Rashemi berserkers where known for their drinking, and many an outsider who thought they knew what they were getting into challenged a Rashemi warrior to a jhuild drinking contest only to later learn that they had only ever been drinking some watered down version of jhuild.

Drena shook her head quickly, “No, only a few thousand miles from where I wish to be. Can the gate be used to go the other way?”

The bartender nodded, “Aye, the gate goes several places: Thaymount, mountains near Dagger Falls, an island in the middle of the Sea of Fallen Stars, and a few others.”

Drena nodded, “How do you get back through?”

The bartender leaned in and whispered, “Gotta have a key gem.”

Drena nodded, “And I would get one…?”

The barmaid set two drinks in front of them and hearing what they were talking about she smiled and chirped, “We sell them.” 

The bartender frowned at the girl then looked back to Drena, “I take it you want one? Where to?”

Drena nodded, “Aye… the mountains near Dagger Falls.” She sipped the wine and looked over to watch Navar consume all of the jhuild in a long draw from his mug. 

He grimaced a little and frowned. He lifted the mug and looked into it, then shook his head a little, trying to clear it. Drena thought that may the berserker had been away from his homeland too long if the cheap jhuild they would serve her had any effect on him. Her thoughts were interrupted when the barmaid set a large gem on the table. “There you go.” They haggled over price and once payment was made Drena picked up the gem. 

That is odd, she thought. The gem does not have the feel of an enchanted item. She began the incantation of a simple magic detection spell.

That was when everything seemed to move at once. The bartender seemed to pull a pair of swords from out of nothingness and slid over the bar top at Navar. The barmaid stepped back a step and began to cast her own spell. The four other men in the room all leapt from their seats and seemed to pull swords from thin air. 

Drena leapt up as several small globes of energy slammed into from the barmaid’s outstretched hand. Catching the edge of the bar, Drena vaulted over and landed beside the barmaid, her own spell already slipping from her lips. Her hands raised and she opened her mouth, calling out in a clear voice. It sounded like a hawk’s cry, and her familiar lent its voice to the call. Ahead of her a cone of destruction appeared as the sound flowed forward. Glasses shattered, wood splintered, the barmaid staggered a few steps, pummeled this direction and that, the bartender also stumbled, caught in one portion of the deadly cone of sound. 

Navar was on his feet; though shaky he had his sword out in no time. Anger flashed in the berserker’s eyes and he leapt at his foes with reckless abandon. The four thugs and the bartender all come at him. Metal clanged off metal, and in the middle stood the loan berserker, crying out in anger and slashing out as fast as he could twist his form around. 

The bartender was obviously an expert fighter. He was able to wound Navar multiple times, but nothing seemed to phase the berserker, his rage now fully overtaking him.

The barmaid turned on Drena. Stepping back she cast another spell, lightning ripping from her hands to course through the young witch. Drena was able to sidestep the worst of the attack, but she knew she could not take much more. 

Drena quickly cast up a shroud of invisibility around herself and tumbled back over the bar and away from the fight. The barmaid narrowed her eyes and searched for where Drena could have gone. Not seeing the witch, she began to cast something else at Navar. 

Drena was not about to flee though. She backed into a corner then focused on the far corner. Again she cast a spell, this time her cry was clear to all. It slipped forth like a small sound that seemed to streak across the room. When the sound hit the far corner it erupted into a barrage of sonic energy. Sound waves rocked almost the entire room, sparing only Drena. 

Navar stumbled under the onslaught but stayed standing. The barmaid cried out in pain, grabbed her head and fell to the ground with blood flowing freely from between her fingers. She was dead before she came fully to a stop on the hard floor. All four of the thugs stumbled and fell dead, the bones crushed from the sonic energy. 

The bartender was the only other one left standing. He stumbled forward, dropped one sword and grabbed Navar by the shoulder. Blood flowed freely from the man’s ears, noise and mouth as he drove his sword deep into Navar’s stomach. The berserker never even flinched; instead he grabbed the bartender around the neck, his own sword abandoned. 

Slamming his head forward Navar smashed into the bartender’s face. His opponent slumped back.

Drena threw up her hands and cast her last spell. Small globes of energy streaked forward and slammed into the bartender’s falling form. They burst through his chest and head, leaving gaping holes in their wake. The man’s body hit the ground with a dull thud. Navar stumbled and dropped to his knees. He pulled the sword from his stomach with a cry of pain. Blood gushed from the horrible wound. 

Drena ran forward, a healing potion already in her hand. She knew that berserkers could fight much longer than most, but often they fought through wounds that would kill a normal man only to succumb to the wound the moment the fight was over. She dumped the potion down his throat and watched as he touched a rune on his upper right arm. It flashed brightly then dulled to a normal scar. 

Between the potion and the first rune Navar seemed to be out of danger of dieing. Quickly he activated two more runes. Only then did his face relax. 

Drena had been so worried about her companion that when he looked past her and chuckled she was not really sure what he was laughing at. She looked around and sighed. What had looked like a bar moments before now looked like a dungy ancient room buried for centuries beneath ancient ruins. What had looked before like a bartender, barmaid, and several thugs now looked like the crumbled bodies of several tieflings. One of the demonic mongrels, probably the barmaid, must have been a master of illusions. 

Drena sat down next to her companion and sighed. She lifted her mask and wiped some of the sweat off her face before sliding the mask back over her features. “Well that was fun.” She sighed softly.

Navar grinned up at her, “Well at least we aren’t in Waterdeep.”


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## sparhawk (Jun 18, 2003)

This is really shapping up to a great story hour. Keep up the good work.


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## Gilgalad (Jun 19, 2003)

*A few words on Durgaden’s demise…*

For anyone interested, or those who just happen to follow this story, I thought I’d pen a few of my thoughts surrounding the permanent demise of Durgaden Alepounder Tethyamar.

First of all, my passion for D&D characters has always been, and will most likely continue to be, the up front and personal combat style of the pure melee character.  Barbarian or Warrior, huge offensive weapons dealing massive amounts of damage at the expense of quickness, finesse or defense.  Not even the Paladin is usually brutal enough for my tastes.  Nothing has ever made my blood pump faster than just pure, unadulterated carnage.  Then, in this game, I thought it would be pretty cool to try a defensive style of fighter, the Defender prestige class.  I’d thoroughly read up on the prestige class and knew what I was getting into, and it sounded pretty cool, and in all honesty, it’s a pretty nice and well developed class, but it just didn’t fit in with my play style.  Entering a defensive stance gives incredible bonuses to the Defender, that can truly make the difference between an easy victory and an assured defeat.  However, this comes at the expense of being mobile.  Once your stance in established, you can’t move.  Period.  Oh sure, the 5 foot steps during every combat round, but that’s it.  If a foe simply chooses to stand his ground and avoid you, you’re simply left out of the fight.  Now, throw into the mix that if you’re truly going for a defensive fighter, than you’d better be carrying a shield, and thus limited to one handed weapons, you’re just not going to be landing the damage of an offensive fighter.  Even swinging a Dwarven War axe one handed, your limited to 1.0 x Strength bonus instead of 1.5, and, in keeping with the character, my feats were aimed at the defensive style of play rather than the offensive, even further limiting my damage dealing potential.  When we really got into the game, I found myself disappointed with what I could offer the party in the terms of pure damage output.  Sure, I could keep a foe occupied almost forever, but I simply couldn’t land enough damage to significantly contribute to its demise, and that, to me, just isn’t an effective fighter when, at the time, it was the party’s ONLY front line fighter.  Thus, in discussing the situation with our DM after Durgaden’s demise, we hit upon the creation of my replacement character.  Since our DM hasn’t yet posted a story introducing you to him I won’t go into any details here.  Suffice it to say that this character is yet again NOT my straight forward damage machine, but is geared to provide him with more flexibility and movement potential than anything I’ve ever played before.  I actually expect this character to be one of the most challenging and potentially just downright fun characters I’ve ever played.  And he is going to be just absolutely loaded with flavor.  With luck, our DM will give us all some insight into this new story hour participant in the days just ahead.

I hope everyone enjoys these tidbits of information.  I know that we, the players, truly enjoy the chance to read them after a game.

Rest well Durgaden Alepounder Tethyamar.  Your kingdom is in good hands.

“It’s good to be the King”


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## Wraithdrit (Jun 20, 2003)

*Delorian's Introduction*

Clariburnus felt the warmth from the stone in his pouch. He knew which of his followers was trying to contact him before he even pulled out the magic stone. Leaning back in his chair, he tapped the small rune that activated the stone. A small image of a shade wearing loose fitting clothes appeared hovering over the stone. The image was shadowy, as always, lacking any color, much like all the rest of the City of Shade.

The image of Delorian Argonoth bowed low then straightened. “My liege. It is as you warned. Hadrhune is deploying us against the heroes of Tethyamar. What are your orders?”

“Go along with everything until the attack starts, then turn on your companions and kill them.”

Delorian frowned and made sure that what he was hearing was correct. “You wish me to kill Shadovar to save the lives of non-Shadovar.”

“Every war has its casualties Delorian. If we do not act this way the Heroes may be weakened even more than they already are. We can not have that.” Clariburnus thought for a moment. 

“And when the fight has ended?” Delorian knew the answer before asking the question, but again he had to have confirmation.

“Join them. You will need to get the attention of the one called Tanerus. He will most likely contact you through telepathic means. When he does tell him that you have been sent to aid him and his friends. Tell him I sent you, and that if he can get you into the group you will reveal the first of the Secrets of Shadows to him.”

Delorian cocked one eyebrow. “And what is it that I am to reveal to him m’lord.” 

“You will find a potion in the food pouch of your cloak. Have him drink it. It will release his shadow from its bonds and expose him to the true ways of the world.”

Delorian could not help but shiver. He remembered the concoction that Clariburnus was talking about. It was the hardest thing he had ever been through. “Will he survive?”

“I certainly hope so. He is a ghostwise halfling. They are fairly hardy.”

“Very well.” Delorian was intrigued to say the least. “Will he be swearing to Shar?”

“Perhaps, but not yet. I have arranged for a few extra items to make their way into your room at the monastery. They will aid you in your quest.” Clariburnus began to turn away from the stone.

“My liege, when the strike team is dead and I join this group, what is my goal?”

“To stop a war. Just follow their lead. You are to aid them and listen to their direction. Do as they bid as long as it does not contradict my own wishes.” Clariburnus let his gaze linger on Delorian a moment longer. “Understood?”

“Of course my liege.” Delorian bowed again and the image faded. Clariburnus turned and looked down at the map on his table. Everything was going exactly as planned.

In his room Delorian rolled the sleeve of his dark shirt down over the tattoo on his left forearm. The glow of the communication spell was still fading from the tattoo as he clamped his magical bracer over it. He recalled the day he first met Clariburnus.

Delorian had been in the monastery for twenty-four years. He was at the top of his group. Even the High Priestess of Shar, the Hand of Shar herself, Tiana Yulanthar, had complimented him on his good work. He stood in the center of a large circle in the courtyard of the monastery. All around the ring stood massive dog like gnolls. They held every manner of weapon. Most wore some form of armor as well, and many carried shields. Their weapons were bloodied, evidence of the failure of the last student to take this test.

Beyond the gnolls stood rows of raised benches. Sitting in them were many shades of varying ranks. Rumors held that even the Princes of Shade came to see these tests. The Princes often recruited students that passed the final test. They made them personal guards, members of their elite forces, or even assassins, trained to kill with but a single blow.

High Priestess Yulanthar sat atop a massive raised throne at one edge of the circle. Her voice rang out over the crowd. “Is the petitioner ready?” 

She focused her intense gaze on Delorian. Only students who thought they had what it took to survive the test petitioned for graduation. Failure in the final test always resulted in death. Delorian bowed to the High Priestess, fell into a fighting stance then nodded. 

Without missing a moment High Priestess Yulanthar yelled, “Wave one!” 

A single gnoll from each cardinal direction charged in toward the young monk. Delorian did not wait for them to arrive. He picked one that had a spear and ran toward it. The creature kept charging, pulling the spear back to give it a bit of extra thrust as it came within reach. The beast shoved the weapon forward only to find the lithe monk sliding beneath the weapon.

Delorian grabbed the haft of the spear and used his momentum to carry him up around the weapon. His foot met with the jaw of the gnoll, snapping its head to one side. As the creature stumbled, the spear loosened in its grasp. Delorian’s feet hit the ground for only a moment. He leapt up, grabbed the still stunned gnoll by both scruffy ears and drove his knee into its muzzle. All in the courtyard could hear the sickening crunch of shattering bone. 

As the gnoll went limp and collapsed to the ground, the spear fell into Delorian’s waiting hand. He pivoted and threw the spear at the closest of the other three charging gnolls. The creature was less than ten feet away and its surprise at Delorian throwing away the only weapon he had was clearly evident on its face. The spear sunk into the Gnoll’s chest and Delorian leapt after it. He would never reach the gnoll with that leap, thought several of the spectators. He did not have to. His kicked the side of the spear haft, sending it, and the gnoll, spinning to one side. 

Delorian was already running as the gnoll spun to a halt on its knees. As the monk ran by both hands grabbed the gnolls head and twisted. Again all could hear the sound of cracking bone. 

The last two gnolls stopped on either side of the monk. They began to slowly circle him, being a bit more cautious than their companions. One held a bloodied axe and stout shield. The other held a rusty sword and a loaded crossbow. The gnoll with the crossbow leveled the weapon on Delorian and squeezed the trigger lever. The string snapped forward hurtling the bolt at the monk. The other gnoll charged forward, raising its axe, ready to slice Delorian open. 

The monk reacted in a flash of movement. One hand came up to slap the arrow out of the air. He continued the spin around and launched into a flying kick at the axe wielding gnoll. The creature brought up his shield, easily blocking the kick. When Delorian landed, the gnoll swiped out with his axe. Delorian ducked beneath the blow and darted in. He rained blow after blow on his opponent. His fists landed twice against its stomach, his forearm slammed into its windpipe and finally his knee came up between the gnoll’s legs. It fell with a whimper.

The monk spun on his last opponent. The gnoll had dropped its sword and frantically reloaded the crossbow. As Delorian calmly stalked toward the gnoll it raised the crossbow, its hand and forearm shaking. Knowing the bolt would do nothing, the creature fired anyway. It followed the shot up by flinging the crossbow at the monk while scooping up its sword. 

Again, Delorian effortlessly deflected the arrow out of mid-air. He strode forward, dodging the clumsily flung crossbow. The gnoll was back peddling as fast as it could. It reached the edge of the ring and was shoved forward again by a couple of its mates. It yelped as Delorian’s foot smashed into its sword hand. The monk had moved so fast it was unnatural. One moment he had been halfway across the ring, with a few effortless pumps of his legs he was at his opponent. The sword clattered to the ground and the gnoll launched itself at Delorian with a growl, fangs barred.

Delorian used a pair of hooks to send the gnolls head whipping one way then the other. As it stumbled Delorian thrust a hand forward grabbed the gnolls windpipe and pulled back. Blood gushed from the open gaping wound in the creature’s neck. It fell first to its knees then to the ground, dead. Delorian dropped the hunk of flesh from his hands. As it hit the ground the High Priestess wasted no time in yelling, “Wave two!”

Delorian fell back quickly as a pair of gnolls rushed him from the closest side. His head spun to either side, checking the location of each of the other pairs of gnolls. These beasts had seem him best four of their best, they looked like they were going to fight much smarter. The six furthest from him moved together, forming a single group. The two closer gnolls pressed what they thought was an advantage.

Delorian switched directions quickly, moving toward the pair. They brought shields to bear and advanced slowly. Delorian smiled at them. It was time to kick things up a notch. He stopped, reached down to the ground, pulling his own shadow up from the ground. It stretched like a dark cloud in front of him. He stepped inside and was gone. 

The pair of gnolls panicked. One pointed to the group of six and grunted. The other nodded and they started running toward their mates. They made it about halfway before Delorian appeared in mid leap beside one. His foot connected with its head, knocking the gnoll to the ground easily. The gnoll’s companion spun on Delorian and swiped its small sword across his back. It must have been expecting the attack because its response was far too swift for it to be surprised. The sword slashed across Delorian’s back and dark blood sprayed the sand around the monk.

The crowd gasped and several of the shadovar started murmuring to each other. The gnolls on the other hand let out a cheer. The six other gnolls inside the ring began running forward to aid their companion. 

Delorian did not even seem to notice the wound. Without even pivoting he lashed out with a kick the caved in the gnoll’s knee. Before the creature even fell to the ground the same foot kicked out again, snapping its head to one side. When it hit the ground its neck was twisted at an odd angle and its eyes stared blankly out ahead of it.

The other six halted quickly and fanned out. They surrounded the smaller man and began to move in, leading with their weapons. Delorian narrowed his eyes, studying his opponents. Moving at incredible speeds he dashed towards one particular gnoll. The gnoll reacted by pulling its weapon back to strike. Delorian was to it before it had even had time to lash out. Delorian connected with a single fist to the creature’s throat. 

It coughed and sputtered but was not going down yet. It lashed out with its sword, only to find Delorian was already back in his spot in the middle of the ring. The monk was holding back earlier, now he was fighting for his life, and was holding nothing back. His speed was incredible. The shadovar started cheering now, urging him on. The gnolls were barking and howling as well, calling for the monk’s blood.

As the one gnoll stood coughing and trying to clear its throat the other five rushed in. Delorian met one halfway. Instead of stopping at the gnoll though he leveled his arm and ran past. The front of his hand caught the gnoll across the eyes, whipping its head back. Delorian slipped behind the gnoll and leapt up. His knees connected with its head and the gnoll fell to the ground, unmoving.

The other four were still after him. Delorian knew he could lead them around the ring all day, but he was not about to continue to run from this fight. He held his ground and waited. One fist cocked back and Delorian hummed slightly to himself. His fist shook slightly and when the first gnoll got in range he lashed out. The gnoll led with its sword, slashing at Delorian. The monk slipped to the side of the attack and slammed his fist into the gnoll’s side. When the blow connected the gnoll jerked and grabbed at the wound. It stumbled back, stunned and unable to defend itself.

Delorian never had the opportunity to capitalize on the gnoll’s wounded state as its three companions were on him. They slashed and hacked at him, and he barely managed to keep out of their reach. As he darted this way and that, looking for an opening the three seemed to work in unison. When one would be open Delorian would start to attack only finding himself to busy defending from one of its companions. 

Delorian picked the one that had the least dangerous weapon. It was spear-wielding brute. Delorian turned towards it and block blows coming in from either side of him. He left himself open and the gnoll was only happy to oblige. It rammed the spear through his stomach, the tip shoving out the rear. Delorian slid in, ignoring the pain. Both fists slammed into the side of the gnoll’s head. The crowd fell completely silent as Delorian was impaled, then gasped as he crushed its head with seeming ease. The other two gnolls paused, stunned by the seeming defeat of the monk. Surely a wound like that would kill him, if not render him an easy target. 

The dead gnoll fell to the ground. Delorian snapped the haft of the spear sticking through his stomach and reached around to pull the other half out. The entire time the gnolls watched the monk’s face. He did not even seem to be feeling it. The gnolls began to circle, warily watching the monk. They knew if they waited long enough he would bleed out on his own. 

Delorian discarded his slashed and ripped top, letting it fall to the ground. He paused, took in a long breath, as he exhaled the spear wound stopped bleeding, then closed completely up.

One of the gnolls had seen enough. It dropped its weapon and fled toward the edge of the ring. The other gnoll blindly ran at Delorian, howling in fear and anger. Delorian met it halfway, slamming his knee into its gut. Another pair of punches and the creature fell dead.

The last gnoll reached the edge of the ring. Its companions grabbed it and threw it back into the ring. The High Priestess called out, “Enough!” The gnoll stumbled to its knees, hoping it had been spared. A bolt of black energy shot from the Priestesses outstretched hand, blasting a head sized-hole through the gnolls chest.

Delorian picked up his discarded top and stood in the middle of the ring. Tiana strode up and patted him on the shoulder. “Congratulations, monk.” She had not called him a student. He had passed.

The gnolls left quickly with their dead or unconscious mates and shadovar of all ranks and ages went forward to greet and congratulate the new monk. 

Nearly an hour later Delorian finally arrived back in his room. He closed the door behind him then turned to head toward his bed. He was startled to see a shade sitting in the only chair the room had. 

“Most impressive fight, young Delorian.” It took Delorian a moment, but he quickly recognized Prince Clariburnus. 

He dropped to one knee and whispered, “M’liege.”

Clariburnus motioned with one hand, “Get up Delorian. I have a proposition for you…”

It had only been a few hours later that Hadrhune had approached him with a similar offer. As Clariburnus instructed him, he accepted the offer, omitting the fact that he already had a patron. Hadrhune had seemed pleased with their arrangement and had soon introduced the monk to a small crew of shadovar that would be his companions on one of Hadrhune’s ‘problem solving’ teams.


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## Wraithdrit (Jun 20, 2003)

Sparhawk,

Thanks again for the praise. I am REALLY enjoying running this game and writing up all sorts of extra sidestories and character background information.

I always welcome comments, questions, or what not. Also, all of my players read this story hour, so if any of you have any questions for them, they will probably be more than happy to answer.

Thanks,
Wraith


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## Wraithdrit (Jun 20, 2003)

*Tethyamar
Marpenoth 1, 1372_
Early Evening*

Mytrym strode down the one of the halls of the Fortress of Tethyamar. His mind wandered again to the battle with the dragon. It had all happened so fast. Falling in combat did not really bother him, especially not against such a massive opponent. What was bothering him was the fact that he had returned, and the group’s friend had not. 

He knew that it had nothing to do with him, that it was Durgaden’s soul that had a choice on returning or staying in the afterlife. Why should it bother him if Durgaden was enjoying the celestial ale that his afterlife had to offer?

Still, he could not help feeling like maybe he should have been the one to have not returned. He was an outsider to the group, and now he had replaced Durgaden’s role in the group. He was not the King, but the dwarves looked him at as the most experienced warrior in Tethyamar. Already, Gregor had consulted him about several matters in the reconstruction of the city. 

Mytrym had seen Will taking an active roll in the city’s rebuilding plans as well. He knew the group would miss the mage’s powerful spells, but it was obvious that the mage currently had his fill of fighting. Seeing a couple of companions die will do that to even the stoutest of warriors. 

Mytrym stopped outside the gates and leapt up into the air. His wings lashed out and caught the air currents, flapping slowly to bring him up to the top of the cliff overlooking the vast ruins of the old city.

He shook his head mournfully, remembering the city as it had been before the horde smashed it into rubble. He closed his eyes and could see the bustling little surface area. Humans and elves shared the upper levels, while the dwarves dominated the underground portions around the city. Market places flowed with activity even while dwarven workmen raised new structures ever higher into the air.

So much had changed in so little time. Well, he knew time had long passed him by, but to him he had been fighting for Tethyamar only days before. Funny, even though two hundred years had passed her he was, once again fighting for Tethyamar. Although the enemy was different, this time he had no intention of fighting a defensive battle, this time they were going to take the fight to the enemy. 

Mytrym sat down on the edge of the cliff and looked down at his shoulder. Pulling the neck of his shirt back he examined the scar. He had healed plenty of wounds in his days, but the wounds from the arrows had scarred worse than any others he had ever received. It was a constant reminder of what had happened. As if missing two hundreds was not bad enough.  He closed his eyes, remembering the sounds, smells, and sights of that fight two hundred years prior.

The dwarves had held the stairs for hours, but they knew the Aerie was going to fall. Mytrym told them to go, he would hold off the invaders long enough for the griffon riders to escape back to the city. The traps had been set higher in the Aerie, and it was just a matter of getting the city’s high mages out before the horde overran the position. 
The trapped stairwell had sent a huge swath of the horde into a watery grave below, but it had not taken them long to get ladders in place and begin scaling up toward his position. He toppled a few, but they soon had plenty of crossbow wielding goblins pinning him down. Quickly, he retreated into the control chamber and let them come to him. At first he slaughtered them in the doorway. When the bodies started piling up he started to make for the stairs. 

That was when she appeared. The heroes of Tethyamar had said her name was Tursa. Her purple cloak had fluttered back behind black wings as she rocketed up to land ahead of him. He rushed her, but she flung a bolt of some sort of dark energy into him. He stumbled back, fought of a pair of orogs, tossing one over the stair railing. Before he knew it, he was pushed back into the control room. The horde was on him now. He just hoped he could die standing. 

Screaming out his goddesses’ name he flung himself at the mass of orcs and goblins surging through the door. His enchanted blade cut swathes through the beasts but there were just too many of them for him to gain any ground. He was pressed back to the back wall. When his heel slid against the wall he knew it was time to die.

Then Tursa, and a pair of archers, had appeared on the far side of the horde. Her voice called a halt to the fight, and the attackers fell back slightly, surrounding the weakened defender. Mytrym slumped forward a little bit, panting to catch his breath.

He called to the fey’ri, “Well demoness? It’s time. End it!” 

She shook her head and chuckled coldly. “No, Mytrym.”

The paladin blinked in surprise. How did she know his name?

“Your time is not now. Your future is foreseen.” She glanced at the archers, “Do it.”

Mytrym lifted his weapon and cried out, throwing himself at the horde in front of him. He never made it. The first arrow, with surprising accuracy and strength, pierced into his shoulder. It threw him back with such force that he was slammed into the wall behind him. The arrow had impaled his shoulder, pinning it to rock wall behind him.

The paladin cried out in pain and tried to pull away from the wall. The second arrow bit into his sword arm, just below the elbow. He screamed in pain as the arm was also pinned to the wall. His eyes focused on the archers, and saw that both had reloaded and were drawing back to fire again. He knew his death was at hand.

“For Eilistraee!” The arrows both hit him simultaneously. One pinned his shield arm back to the wall, the other ripped into his stomach. The paladin gasped in pain and waited for the end. He could not move. He tried looking around, but could only barely move his eyes. 

He saw a goblin dance into his vision. The little beast reached for his hand, but its head exploded before it ever touched him. Behind the falling corpse of the goblin, Tursa lowered her hand. Her spell had stopped the goblin from touching him and had gotten the rest of the horde’s attention. 

“Do not touch him, unless you wish to share the fate of your goblin companion.” 

 The horde moved from the control room quickly, only stopping to loot their dead. Then time started to speed up. Mytrym watched the bodies of those he had slain decay away in front of him. 

He knew a couple of hundred years had passed, but it only felt like a few hours. In some ways it had felt like an eternity. He was just thankful that whatever enchantment had held him there had also sustained him. He was cramped, thirsty, and hungry when the heroes had released him, but otherwise in fairly decent shape.

Standing back up, Mytrym shook his head to clear the memories and leapt from the cliff. His wings popped out in place and he glided down to the ground. He had spent enough time wandering in memories. It was time to get ready. He and his companions left for the Aerie in the morning.


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## iwatt (Jun 20, 2003)

Wraithdrit

Wow, this is great story! I started lurking around this story about a week ago, and I finally got finished reading it. Keep it up. I really like how you've introduced evil NPC's with a lot of depth to them, avoiding the typical issues in which parties automaticlly begin slaying the bad guys. Seems you have a great group of players as well, so congrats to you all.

Gilgalad
I'm going to miss Durgaden though, he was just great. I've got a question though, while RPing did you really say all those catchy phrases or did Wraithdrit take some creative licenses  

Well, congrasts to all you guys.

O, one other thing. I've been toying around with the idea that healing spells had different effects depending on the deity. From you'r description of the Banite priestess´curing, I can see you guy seem to do the same. My Tempuran cleric healing spells aren't exactly painful but they leave visible scarring. Currently my party sports quite a lot of these


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## Gilgalad (Jun 23, 2003)

*Welcome to the game iwatt <grins>*

iwatt,

Glad to know that you're enjoying our little misad...errr...adventure here.  It a LOT of fun to play in I can assure you of that.

As for the loss of Durgadan, yea, I'll miss him as well, though it seamed the thing to do given the circumstances, and I have to admit, that his replacement should be a VERY fun character to play.  I don't think I've ever seena race/class combo that has the potential of having so much flavor to it.  I hope I can do it justice.

As for all the snappy catch phrases, the vast majority of them were actaully mine.  The only one that screams NOT MINE that comes to mind right away is the "My little buddy" one.  I had flashbacks to Gilligan's Island when I saw that in print <lol>.  I promise to do my best to come up with new, in-character, snappy catch phrases for Durgadan's replacement, though expect them to be a bit darker in nature }-) <grins evilly>

Hope you continue to enjoy the writings as much as we do.  Thanks agian for reading.


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## Wraithdrit (Jun 23, 2003)

Man, I had a huge response to iwatt ready Friday and the net ate it. Grar!

In short I'll just point to Gilgalad's post and say, "What he said."

Though I like to think of most of the catchy phrases as mine, I'm sure the players think they come up with most of them.  

Seriously though, I'm having a blast writing this thing up. Its finally gotten me back into the habit of writing almost every day.

As for healing... you should see what a Priestess of Loviatar's healing is like.   Heh.

Anyways... expect an update here in a while. Actually game day is tonight so, Wednesday's update should be action packed.  

- Wraith


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## Wraithdrit (Jun 23, 2003)

*Outskirts of Tethyamar
Marpenoth 1, 1372
Sunset*

Drena looked down at the city and shook her head. “What are they doing here?” She motioned at the far off contingent of dwarves working on one of the central buildings._

Navar grinned at Drena, “They don’t look like Thayan dwarves.”

Drena shot a glare at Navar and growled, “So where the heck is Lurkhaus?” She turned back to the city and studied the ruins some more.

Navar, unable to let the two sit in silence for long, finally spoke, “Shouldn’t we just go ask if they have seen him?”

“Of course we are going to go ask. As soon as I know it’s not a Thayan trap.”

Navar grunted, “How are you going to know that?” He did so love baiting Drena at times. The mage just glared at him then turned back to the city. Finally something seemed to satisfy her and she stood up.

In truth she had just grown as impatient as the berserker and had decided it was time to find out what was going. The two scrambled down the hillside and into the ruins.

*City of Shade
Marpenoth 1, 1372
Sunset*

Delorian paced in his room. He knew one of the others would come for him soon. The practice run they had a couple of days prior had proved to him his companions were capable warriors, and soon the time would come that he would be forced to kill them all. He trusted Clariburnus completely but still did not feel right about killing his fellow Shadovar.

Knowing he had to clear his mind of all the conflict that boiled within it, the monk knelt in front of the small window. He shifted the latch and let the window swing open in front of him. The hazy fog that covered the city was doing a decent job of keeping the setting sun from penetrating into the city. The result was a dim filtered light undulated with the thickness of the cloud cover.

A symbol to Shar was carved in the windowsill. Delorian reached up to slide his fingers gently across the carving. He whispered a soft prayer to the dark goddess, asking for her to watch over him and keep him shrouded in shadows. As if to answer his prayer, a single ray of sunshine cut through the moving clouds. It landed atop his outstretched hand, lighting the gray dusky skin. 

Delorian’s first instinct was to pull back from the sunlight, but something kept him from doing so. The light did not actually hurt, but instead it just seemed to drain him. As if to test himself, the monk kept his hand in the beam of light and turned his hand this way and that, letting the light play of his fingers.

The shade swallowed. It had been a long time since he had been out in the sun for more than a few short hours. He knew that his trip would expose him to many dangers, not the least of which was sunlight.

Finally he pulled back from the light and closed the dark stained window. The room fell back into near darkness and the monk turned toward the door. He heard the footsteps long before the knock. “Enter.”

The door slid open and on the other side stood Lieutenant Siln. “Sir, we are preparing to leave.” As a human, Siln was automatically beneath even a non-ranked monk in the city’s rigid social structure. Thought most of the cities inhabitants were actually human, their power paled in comparison to the ruling class of shades. Unlike many rigid societies, there was an opportunity to climb into the higher ranks. Humans who proved themselves strong and capable could catch the eye of one of the more powerful shades and soon find themselves tested to enter the ranks of the dark ones.

Delorian nodded, “Very well. I’ll be right along.” Delorian turned to snatch up his cloak and small pack. The cloak was absolutely huge. Like most shades, Delorian never left the city without wearing plenty of layers of protective cloth.  Delorian was just thankfully he did not have to add armor to the layers. That would prove far to bulky for the monk’s mobile fighting style.

Delorian stopped in the doorway and looked back. He knew it would be a very long time before he saw the room again, if ever. He studied the chamber a few more moments then let the door shut behind him as he stalked off into the darkness.

*Dagger Falls
Marpenoth 1, 1372
Late Evening*

Serin stepped out of the barracks and did not look back. Her bow was strapped across her back, and her quiver was full. They were gifts from Morn for the length of time she had served the city faithfully. He had urged her to reconsider her resignation, but nothing would dissuade her. Serin turned and walked down the streets. The battle of the previous day still haunted her. So many men were dead, and for what reason?

“You look terrible.” Serin looked up at the familiar voice. It was Will, one of the heroes of Tethyamar.

“Will, what are you doing here?” Serin looked confused. The mage must have moved swiftly and taken the northern route around the mountains in order be in town so soon.

Will motioned at a floating disk behind him. It was laden down with bags, mostly perishable items and other things Serin could not even begin to recognize. “Supply run. You learn to teleport and suddenly everyone has somewhere they want you to be.” He smiled and patted the young former sergeant on the shoulder. “How are things with you? You don’t look so good…”

Serin tried to smile, “Thanks.” She folded her arms in front of her, “I quit the militia. My idea of forging a new path through the mountains was an abysmal failure. Over half the patrol was wiped out.”

Will winced, sensing the frustration she felt. “What happened?”

Serin shuffled one food in the dust of the road beneath her feat, “Orcs. If it hadn’t been for the Banite, the whole patrol would have been lost.” She bit her bottom lip, knowing what Will would ask next.

“So what happened to the Banite then?” He rubbed a hand down her back, trying to comfort her a little.

“Gone. In order to get her aid in healing my men, I had to release her.” She looked to Will, “Will, I’m sorry. I know you, Durgaden and the others were relying on that money, but I couldn’t just let my men die. I…”

“Hush Serin. The money is not all that important. Lives are always worth more than money. So now that you’ve quit the milita what are your plans?”

Serin shrugged. “I don’t know… I want to try and find some way to pay you all back for what I lost… you could have gotten thousands for the Banite and her sword.”

Will cocked an eyebrow. “She took the sword as well? I suppose that is to be expected.”Serin looked at Will, desperate to make things right. “I’ll find work and repay Tethyamar for ever copper that I cost it. I swear it. I’ll guard caravans or something.”

Will laughed out loud. “Serin, you will be working till you die to pay that debt off if you try to do it with caravan guarding. Maybe we can work something else out.”

Serin narrowed her eyes at Will and took a half step back. Jokingly she pointed at the mage, “Hey now… I’m not that kind of girl!”

Will laughed and shook his head, “I mean in Tethyamar…”Serin screwed her face in disgust, “With the dwarves? Ugh. Fun to drink with, but that… never.”

The two laughed for a few moments then Will finally took on a more serious tone, “Seriously Serin, consider it. We need all the help we could get. You seem proficient with your bow, and have shown yourself to be a survivor. You could come to Tethyamar and help the dwarves and us.”

“Will I don’t know.” Serin shook her head a bit.

“Sure you do. You quit the militia, you have nothing better to do right now.” He stepped a bit closer and held out a hand.

“Fine, when do we leave?” She placed her hand into his and squeezed gently.

Will grinned, “Now.” The mage lifted his free hand and closed his eyes. Arcane words spilled from his mouth.

Serin recognized what was about to happen and yelped gently. Holding the mage’s hand tightly she cursed and muttered, “One of these days Will… one of these days.” Their world warped inside out and the two disappeared from the street, the floating disk disappearing with them.


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## Wraithdrit (Jun 25, 2003)

Drena and Navarr strode calmly toward the small group of dwarven workers. One of the dwarves noticed the pair and called a warning to the others. They quickly switched from construction equipment to crossbows and fanned out to watch the two approach. Finally one dwarf stepped ahead of the rest. “What ye’ be doin’ here?”

Drena stepped ahead of Navarr and said, “We are looking for a Red Wizard of Thay.”

The dwarves turned to one another. “Mutter, mutter, whisper, whisper, mutter, wizard, mutter, grumble, whisper, mutter, Thay, mutter, whisper.” Finally the leader turned back toward the pair, “Sorry. No Red Wizards here.”

Drena sighed slightly, “We tracked him to here. We know this was the last place he was.”

The dwarves muttered amongst themselves again. “Mutter, mutter, whisper, grumble, grumble, tracked, mutter, mutter, whisper.” The leader turned back again, “Well he is not here now. Tethyamar has been freed from tyranny. You go away.”

Drena shook her head, “No, we aren’t going away. I need to find the wizard or at least where he went. Can you get me someone in charge.”

The leader of the small group of dwarves nodded, “Aye. This we can do. You stay here.” He turned back to the others who argued a few moments about who should go. Finally one dwarf was volunteered. He ran off to get King Gregor or whomever else important he could find. 

Near the gates he ran into Tanerus and Amador. “Someone is here!” The dwarf pointed to the middle of the city. “Huge human with scars all over and short little human girl wearing big scary mask. Gotta go get the King.”

Tanerus shook his head, some of the dwarf miners had definitely hit their heads a few too many times. “Alright, you go get the King, we’ll check this out.”

When the pair arrived Amador greeted the two, “Can we help you with something?”

Drena sighed, “Yes. Please. I am looking for a Red Wizard of Thay. I tracked him here. The dwarves do not seem to have any idea where he is.”

Tanerus narrowed his eyes, studying the two. “He’s gone. What do you want him for?”

Drena was flabbergasted, “I’m from Rashemen… I was sent here to find this wizard and stop him from completing whatever it is he is trying to do!”

Amador shrugged, “Well you came a long way for nothing.”

Tanerus nodded, “Aye… he’s dead.”

Drena blinked and Navarr took a half step forward. Drena spoke first, “Dead? Did you burn the body?”

Tanerus and Amador exchanged glances. Amador shook his head, “Actually no, they are probably nothing but carrion food now. We can take you to where they were.”

Drena nodded, “Please.” The small group wandered north toward the old Temple of Moradin. A good ways to the east of the opening there was a large pile of debris. The faint order of rot could be smelled coming from the pile.

Tanerus and Amador stopped away from the pile. The halfling pointed, “Its in there.”

Navarr looked to Drena who looked back at him. “After you.” The berserker sighed and moved toward the pile. Drena stepped up to beside him and the two started digging through the trash. Eventually they came upon the stack of dead in the center of the pile. Navarr tossed each corpse out onto the ground. When they were done they looked down at them a bit more closely. “He’s not here.”

Tanerus frowned, “What do you mean?”

“I mean he is not here. None of these men are of Mulan decent. Hell, none of them are even Rashemi. This one…” She nudged the corpse of Lurkhaus’ apprentice. “… is dressed and shaved like a Mulani, but she is definitely not of Mulan blood. There is no Red Wizard in this pile.”

Amador shrugged, “Well we certainly haven’t seen him wandering around here… and he was most definitely dead. I put my sword through his heart myself. Even checked them all for signs of life after the fight. He was dead.”

Navarr asked Drena hopefully, “Maybe wolves took off with his body.”

Drena shook her head, “And none of the others. I think not.” She turned towards the others and opened her mouth to talk when a small falcon landed on her shoulder and let out a screech. Something flies this way, m’lady. Drena looked around and saw an armored form swooping down from the west.

Mytrym’s massive twenty-foot wings folded in as he landed just to south of the group on a half crumbled wall. “Something is coming. Four massive bats fly this way from the southeast. Prepare yourselves.” He thrust a couple of arrows between pieces of rubble so that he could at them quicker and knocked another arrow into his bow.

Theyall turned to look that direction. The sun had set but ambient light still made it easy enough to pick out the four massive bats flying low in over the ruins. 

Tanerus looked to Drena, “Friends of yours?”

Drena shook her head, “I have no idea who they are.” She pulled a wand out and began waving it toward each of the heroes standing about. Each in turn felt their feet lift from the ground. “Would not want them to be the only ones that can fly… just in case they are hostile.”

The heroes fanned out, each finding a spot in the rubble to watch the four winged forms fly toward them. Amador and Drena cast preparatory spells. 

Tanerus looked back from his small bit of rubble he hid within, his thoughts flashed in each of the hero’s minds one by one. They are dressed like Shades, and they have lances out. They don’t look like they are planning on slowing, and they fly low like they are preparing to fight. I don’t like the look of this at all. The halfling glanced back toward the masked witch that had joined them just in time to see folds of shadow rippling up from the woman’s shadow. They formed a figure behind Drena, a shade with a short sword in its hand, a short sword that was thrusting at the base of Drena’s skull.


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## Yakdog (Jun 27, 2003)

*POW! Right to the moon!*

Well, this could be an amusing piece of character development. Heh.

About the teleportation: no doubt! "Teleport over here! No, teleport over THERE! Oh, come on...you *probably* won't be torn into itty bitty pieces and scattered across the multiverse..." *sigh*


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## Wraithdrit (Jul 2, 2003)

*Big Fight Log 1*

Tanerus screamed into Niame’s head, “Look out!” The witch started at the loud cry in her head, just enough to shift to one side. The sword skipped off her enchantments, but the shade was not done with her yet. The shade brought the sword back slicing along Drena’s neck. The blade cut deep, slicing through skin and muscle, but Drena twisted away, cursing in her native tongue, still very much alive.

One of the figures on the larger bats pulled his bat up early, while the other three lowered lances and swooped down towards the heroes. The one that had paused did not have a lance. He threw up his hands cast some sort of protective spell upon himself. His image seemed to blur, shifting this way and that making it hard to place his actual location.

Mytrym wasted no time. He loosed two arrows at one of the smaller bats. Its rider yanked on its reigns, pulling the bat over the second arrow. The first arrow sank into its feathers in the bat’s chest.

Bleeding badly from her shoulder, Drena stepped away from her assailant, grabbed Navarr and cast a quick spell. A bubble of energy rippled up around the two. When it drew back in on itself the pair were transported across the battlefield. They appeared behind the shade wizard. Drena growled at Navarr, “Kill him.”

The massive berserker lunged forward, the spell of flying sending him hurtling at his target. He slashed twice at the mage, catching him off guard from behind. The blade failed to cut the shade though, instead it just sliced through his robes and bounced off a tough enchantment on his skin.

Leaping up in the air, Tanerus zipped up across the battlefield, leading with his short sword. He whipped around behind one of the shades and slashed at him, cutting open a sizeable wound.

Back on the ground, Amador called upon the light of Corellon and sent it flying forward in a seering shaft at the shade that had attack Drena. The shade screamed, revealing that in all that darkness, a female shade was hidden. She twisted away from the strike and grabbed at a strand of shadow beneath her. Yanking it up over her head she stepped through, disappearing from her current location and appearing behind the elven cleric.

As she stepped out of the shadow, the shade assassin lashed out with her short sword, sinking into Amador’s back. He cried out and spun on her, blood spraying on the ruins around him. 

Mytrym continued to loose arrows at the circling bats, but the riders were expecting it now and easily jockeyed mounts out of the way.

Behind the shade mage Drena unleashed a powerful spell. She screamed out, her falcon joining in her cry. The cry rippled forth then exploded in a sonic boom between the mage and one of his minions that had circled too close. Both bats and both shades were knocked around by the empowered spell, but none of them fell from it.

From the depths of the sonic boom streaked one of the two bats. Its rider leveled its lance on Mytrym at him. The paladin discarded his bow and drew his bastard sword. At the last moment he knocked the lance away, and as the shadovar warrior flew past Mytrym leveled the bastard sword and slashed it across the shade’s chest. As the blade flew at the shade, Mytrym summoned the power of his Mistress. The blade glowed brightly and the rippling image of the Lady Eilistraee seemed to superimpose over her paladin. The shades chest nearly exploded from the force of the attack. The momentum of the charge carried the horribly wounded soldier past his foe, red blood spraying back. The bat floundered from the shock of the strike then righted and began to fly back up and away. Mytrym glanced back as his foe flew on. He bled red. It was not a shade but a human. The shades had humans working for them. The paladin made a mental note to bring this up later.

Meanwhile the shade monk known as Delorian had been watching the battle from the back, having shadowstepped in, and waiting for his opportunity. He saw it when Captain Ferinal flew over his position. Pulling the shadows up, he stepped in, reappearing behind the captain on the bat. He reached for the release of Ferinal’s saddle tie-ins, but could not find them. Ferinal, feeling the arrival turned and growled, “Get down there and fight, damn it!” 

Delorian finally wrapped his fingers on the cord and pulled, “You first!” He shoved the captain to the side, sending him crashing to the ground below.

Tanerus saw another opening as the shade mage turned on Navarr and Drena. He flew at the mage, blade first, sinking the blade into the dark mage’s flank. The blade did not sink nearly as far as Tanerus had hoped for, but it had hurt the mage. Black blood flowed down the blade. 

The unengaged warrior spun his bat toward the flying halfling and charged. The bat whipped past, the lance smashing into Tanerus’ thigh. The point dug deep, ripping a nasty wound. To add insult to injury, the bat lashed out as it flew by and bit the small halfling in the shoulder. The bite was not severe, but the two attacks definitely shook the small battle-hardened adventurer.

Seeing that the new threat behind him was covered by one of his men, the shade wizard spun on Navarr and cast a spell at him. Drena recognized the spell as one that caused debilitating pain in its subject. While the flesh was never actually hurt, the pain was enough to render many incapable of moving for a time. The berserker felt pain shoot through him, but he shook the crippling spell off, ignoring it. 

Back-peddling, Amador lashed out with his most damaging spell. A massive column of flame ripped up around the assassin. At the last second the assassin flipped backwards and took cover, the flames missed her completely. She quickly grabbed a strand of shadow from the wall and pulled it across her, disappearing completely from sight.

The bat and warrior that had wounded him was circling around for another strike, so Tanerus took the opportunity to turn back on the shade mage. Again he stabbed the mage in the back, his short sword penetrating past the mages protections.

Drena watched the battle unfold. She saw an opportunity, but knew that to make it work she would have to be very accurate. She cast a quick spell on her self to ensure her next strike would go true. 

Navarr continued to try and kill the mage, but his protections were too much for the barbarian. To make matters worse, one of the shade’s minions flew in from the side, trying to pull Navarr off.

The shadow mage took the opportunity to spin on Tanerus. He narrowed his eyes on the halfling and growled out a spell. He pointed at Tanerus and called out, “Away with you, insect!” Tanerus cocked his head to one side, not really sure what to make of the shadow mage and his seemingly ineffectual spell. The he felt the cold form of his own shadow wrapping up around him. The last thing he saw before darkness completely enveloped him was the assassin once again appearing behind Drena, this time the assassin landed on the flying mage’s back, grabbing at her arms.

The shade captain stood and shook himself off. He whipped out a sword and wand and charged toward Amador. The elven cleric was not about to stick around and fight. He leapt up into the air, flying backwards and up away from the shade below him. Amador slipped his bow out and took a single ineffective shot at the captain.

The shade that Mytrym had wounded tried to recover. He grabbed a potion from his belt and downed it quickly. Mytrym was determined to finish him off though, his massive wings flipped out and he flew after the wounded warrior. He gained on the slower bat and slashed the warrior in the back. The warrior cried out, dropping his lance. He grabbed out his sword and tried to slash back at his assailant, but the monk Delorian appeared in front of him and smashed his fist into his sword hand. As the warrior cried out in pain and dropped the sword, Mytrym put his bastard sword through his back. The tip pushed through the front of his breastplate, and the warrior slumped over dead.

Mytrym spun back to see how the rest of the group was doing. His smile of triumph disappeared as he surveyed the fight. The witch was entangled with the shade assassin, her bodyguard was fighting the shade mage and one of his warriors, Tanerus was no were to be seen, and Amador was running from the last shade. Mytrym frowned and looked back at the mysterious shade that had just helped him dispatch his opponent. He did not know why the shade was helping them, but by the looks of things, they were going to need it.


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## Wraithdrit (Jul 7, 2003)

The shade captain that Delorian had dumped on the ground watched in anger as his prey fled up into the air. He did not have to follow to attack though. Instead he pulled a wand from his belt and unleashed a ball of dark red fire into the air. It exploded around Amador, showering the ground below with bits of burning debris. The fiery explosion rocked Amador but with the aid of Drena’s flight spell dodged the majority of the blast.

Tanerus shifted his gaze around, trying to figure out what had happened to him. Everything around him was dark, like he was looking through some sort of dark smoke. The world around him continued to move, and the battle was raging on outside his shadowy little realm, but he knew that he was disconnected from the reality he normally lived in. He twisted around to glance behind him, only to see a dark shape zip to one side, ducking behind him.

The halfling spun back around, again he saw a dark shape behind him, but lost it when it spun as he did. It was quick, but he was smart, so he just looked over his shoulder without turning around. There standing behind was his own shadow, connected at his feet. Unlike his shadow in the real world, this one had teeth, and blazing red eyes. It lashed out at him, leaping forward. Tanerus screamed, ducking under the attack. The shadow flew over him, but when Tanerus turned to see where it was, there was nothing. 

The halfling spun around several times, seeing nothing around but shadowy fog and the filmy vision of the battle long forgotten in the real world. Just as he began to relax an explosion rocked the real world and the light from it cast new shadows throughout the shadow realm around him. Tanerus bolted away from the creatures that formed in each shadow. He could tell that they sensed him. They sensed the light in him. They hated his light. They hated him and they wanted him dead.

Meanwhile, Drena was wrestling in midair with the assassin that had literally appeared on her back. She twisted this way and that, screaming for Navarr. The barbarian looked back, and growled in frustration. He did not want to leave the mage in front of him, but Drena was in trouble. The berserker flew toward his companion, but the two were fighting so close he could not get in but one good hit.

Sensing that she was going to have to get out of this herself, Drena decided to unleash her spell that would allow her to hit well. It cost her a good opportunity, but she had to stay alive to be of any help. The spell guided her hands and she easily twisted out from beneath the assassin and sent her sailing towards the ground below.

As one of his minions circled closer to protect him, the shade mage used the opportunity to summon a spectral hand, then turned to see who his next target would be. His thoughts were interrupted when the air around him and the other shadovar was ripped open in a vortex of holy energy. The mage shook his head, and turned to where the spell had come from, only to see Amador flying back behind some rubble.

As Drena arced around to one side, the assassin beneath her pulled a curtain of shadow over her, hiding from the witch’s view. Drena looked this way and that, frowning when she couldn’t see the assassin anymore. Her displeasure was interrupted when a dark ball of fire erupted around her. She spun to see the grounded shade captain, his wand still out, looking for more targets.

Tanerus never saw the assassin appear in the same realm as him. He was too busy fighting of the shadows. They seemed to be ripping at him, toying with him, tormenting him. He knew that light would not save him, light would only create more shadows. He had to find a place with no shadows. He had to get away from the shadows somehow. He screamed yet again. He never saw the small doorway that Delorian opened up in the shadowstuff.  He never saw Delorain step through it, taking to two quick steps to propel himself through the shadows in a flash to a location in front of the shade captain. He did catch a glimpse of Delorian. He saw him rip open the shadow realm and step back into the real world. He could escape the shadows, but only if he mastered them first.

The shade captain fought off the monk as he appeared, but the monk was fast and was all over him. The captain had help still though, his shadow steed flew in behind Delorian and raked at the monk’s back, biting deep into him. 

Navarr had followed Drena, but saw that the shadow mage was about to act again. He was not going to let that happen. He flew at him again, again his short sword bounced off the hardened magical protections the shade mage had enveloped himself in.

Drena saw the last bat rider angling toward Navarr. For a moment he and the captain would be lined up. She summoned the most powerful of her sonic explosions and screamed the spell at the two. It erupted, bleeding harmlessly of the resistances of the mage. His protector was not so lucky. The last bat rider disintegrated in the sound blast. He and his bat steed fell to the ground in a mangled hunk of bat and human flesh.

The shade mage spun on the berserker as the spell failed to harm him. He cast his hands toward the hulking human and tried to call forth the human’s shadow just as he had done to the halfling. Nothing happened, the berserker’s will too strong to succumb to such enchantments.

Amador surveyed the battlefield. The only thing he saw still standing was the shade mage that was fighting the barbarian and a pair of shades on the ground. The two shades were fighting, but they had arrived together. The elf was burnt, scraped, cut, and generally upset at the intrusion into Tethyamar so he unleashed on the two, not really seeming to care that one might be on his side. Blades streamed from his hands, slicing through the air, cutting deep through the two shades.

Mytrym landed and looked at the fight between the two shades. He was not sure what to do about them. His decision was made for him when a sharp blade stuck in his back. He spun to see the assassin dancing back, her blade dripping with his blood. He growled out a prayer to Eilistraee and stepped up. Slicing downward with his bastard sword he cut through the shades thick flowing robes. The light of his blade seemed to banish the darkness she embodied. With a scream the assassin fell dead at his feet.

Tanerus continued to fight to save himself and his sanity. The shadows would not let him be. They continued to harass and attack him. He knew for sure at any moment they would stop toying with him and destroy him. He had to find a way out. He just had to. He flew frantically about, hoping that one of the shades might open another doorway to the real world.

Delorian slammed his fist into the shade captain’s nose. The captain’s head whipped back and blood sprayed down. But the monk knew he would return the favor and was not about to stick around to fight the captain and his trained war steed on open ground. He leapt up and away, landing yards away, crouched with his cloak whipping around him.

Navarr continued to rain ineffective attacks on the mage. Though he was mostly unhurt, the mage was annoyed by the constant attacks, and knew his protections would eventually fail. Again his hands came up, and again the spell bled ineffectively off the berserkers intense willpower.

Drena had seen the shades bouncing around the battlefield. She was not going to let them all get away. Knowing the mage would probably resist such attempts, she turned and cast an anchoring spell on the grounded captain. Mystic chains grew from the ground, wrapping around the captain’s legs. 

Mytrym spun from the dead assassin and flew up into the air. The shade mage was distracted. He never saw the paladin, nor his glowing blade. The blade sliced through the last of the mage’s protections, penetrated his heart, killing him instantly.

The shade captain looked down at the glowing chains that connected him to this plane of reality. He leapt up onto his mount and pulled up into the air. It was time to flee the battlefield and report the loss to his master.

Too bad Drena had other ideas. She focused her attention on the bat, its blood was obviously mixed with that of a fiend. She pulled open a small rift between planes beneath the bat and sent it back to its home realm. The dimensional anchor prevented the captain from going with his mount. Gravity took over from there. He plunged to the ground, landing for the second time atop rubble.

The heroes all converged on the downed captain. As he stood up, Delorian could see that he had ripped off his bracer. A tattoo, much like the one that Delorian had only with a different symbol on it, was glowing on the captain’s arm. He had contacted Hadrhune! All would be lost if Hadrhune’s reinforcements arrived before he could conceal what happened. He fled behind a wall and ripped off his own bracer, activating the call to his master, Clariburnus. “Fight going well, but one of them has called in reinforcements.”

The tattoo glowed, indicating the message had been sent. When there was no reply Delorian leapt back over the wall to join in the battle against the lone shade. He never made it into the fight.

A small shadow hole opened up over the battlefield. Tanerus fell from it, the spell keeping him in shadow finally having run its course. The halfling fled into a small pile of rubble, disappearing into his cloak to hide.

The heroes unleashed their abilities on the shade captain. Drena threw spells, Mytrym attacked, Delorian lashed out, but none of it was enough to take back the call the shade had already made.

Ripples of darkness spread from the air above and behind the captain. A shade appeared that darkened the very sky with his presence. He carried a massive carved staff in his hand. He waved the staff toward the fight and bellowed out, “Cease!”

Drena was suitable impressed with the appearance and decided staying around was not in her best interest. She cast a spell that created a small pocket dimension to hide in. She scampered up into it, grabbing the shade mage’s body as she disappeared. Navarr followed her.

The shade laughed out loud and looked around. The captain called to his master, “Master Hadrhune, Delorian has betrayed us!” The new arrival narrowed his eyes and looked for the traitor. 

Amador saw his chance. The things were from another plane, so why not send them back. He held a hand out at the new arrival, “Back where you came from!” He flew back as the spell flew out towards the shade. It bled harmlessly off around the shade, causing a soft curse to come from the elf.

The shade did not seem amused. He turned one hand toward Amador and spoke the ancient Netherese word for ‘Stun’. Amador’s muscles locked and he noise-dived into the rubble below.

The air once again rippled with darkness as another shade stepped into view. Clariburnus had his long guisarme in his hands, his robes flowing back behind him. “Cease Chamberlain!”

Hadrhune was not happy. “You are out of line, young prince. This is Empire business! Your father will not be happy.” 

“We can take that up with him. These people are none of our concern, recall your troops, or what is left of them.” Clariburnus looked over as Delorian appeared from within the shadows beside him. “This one is only following my orders.”

“He raised his hand against the Empire,” bellowed the chamberlain. “He is banished from the realm!”

Delorian gasped and fell to his knees. “No!”

Clariburnus put one hand on the monk’s shoulder, “Easy lad. We will sort this out.” He turned back to Hadrhune. “Very well. Since you order it, it is done, for now. We will discuss this with my father. This was my concern, and my endeavor. You should have stayed out of it.”

Hadrhune threw his head back and laughed. “You are out of your league. Your father will have your head for this.”

Clariburnus growled, “We shall see. Return to the Empire. NOW!”

Hadrhune bowed, “Yes, my Prince.” The sarcasm in the chamberlain’s voice was obvious, but Clariburnus ignored it. Hadrhune easily dispelled the chains binding the captain to this realm, grabbed up the man, and teleported away. 

Clariburnus turned toward Delorian, “This changes nothing. I will convince my father to lift the banishment, don’t worry. Continue your mission and I will be in touch soon.”

Delorian nodded, still stunned from the events, “Yes, my Prince.” He swallowed looked off to the west. He could not see the city he had been born in, the city that floated above the desert sands. He knew it was there though, and he knew that he would very much like to return to his home one day. He also knew that the only way for that to happen would be for him to succeed in the quest Clariburnus had set out for him. Only then could he prove his worth to the Empire of Shadows.


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## Gilgalad (Jul 11, 2003)

*Of the birth of Delorian*

I have to say that Delorian is shaping up to be THE most fun character I’ve ever run.  I’m just now starting to get into the character’s persona I guess you’d say, and I’m sure it will take me a few sessions to find his true personality, but good lord what potential.  There is so much depth in this character, so many possibilities for background information and development, that I’m almost overwhelmed with where to start and in what direction I want to take him.

First things first.  I see Delorian as a being totally faithful to the City of Shade and to Clariburnss, and doing what he’s been asked to do because he truly sees it in the best interest of his homeland.  I see him viewing the party as a means of bolstering his own homelands defensive capabilities, either through trade and allegiance or perhaps simply through the wonton use and abuse of the party and dwarves of Tethyamar to serve whatever need may be, as long as it serves the Empire.  As for his support of the party and their tasks, I see him as truly wanting them to succeed in their venture, and I see him being willing to take great risks on their behalf, again, because he believes their success to be directly tied to the well being of his own homeland.

Anyway, I only hope I can do this character justice, and make him read as well and as fun as he is to play.  Monks are already known for their incredible mobility and versatility.  Add to that the abilities of a Shade, and you have perhaps the most mobile character that can be developed.  I won’t go into details here, but if interested, read up on the Shade, and then fold into it a Monk.  Good lord !  A true Deep Strike Specialist is borne.


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## Wraithdrit (Jul 11, 2003)

Delorian looked at the sand blowing around his knees. He was kneeling on the hard packed dirt of the ruins of Tethyamar. The battle was over, and so was his life as he knew it. Perhaps Clariburnus could make things right. Perhaps.

A thump sounded beside him as a winged man landed a few feet away. The man was dressed in plate armor. As he reached up and pulled his helmet off, the wings slowly folded back against his back and turned into a long flowing cloak. When he pulled the helmet off long silvery white hair spilled out of the helmet, framing a dusky colored face with bizarre features. His eyes, eyebrows and ears hinted at elven heritage and his skin color hinted at perhaps drow heritage. What was most striking was the golden glowing color of his eyes. Was this man an Aasimar? Delorian had heard of them, but never seen one. “What’s your name?” asked the armored figure, tucking his helmet under one arm. His thick-bladed sword was still out, gleaming with an almost imperceptible light that traveled up and down an obviously enchanted blade.

Delorian swallowed and stood. He bowed his head then straightened, “Delorian.” The monk glanced around. From a pile of rubble to one side the halfling Clariburnus had told him was called Tanerus poked his head out of a hiding spot. The halfling glanced this way and that, making sure everything was finally safe. He turned his gaze back to the unknown armored man in front of him, “And you?”

“I am called Mytrym. Thanks for your aid, though I don’t quite know why you were fighting your own kind.” He stopped speaking when Tanerus walked up.

The halfling looked Delorian up and down and said, “Why did you help us? No… wait. Why did they attack us? We had a deal with Clariburnus.”

Delorian nodded, “Aye, a deal not shared by all within the Empire.” Delorian was not sure how much these people knew and he was not about to give away too much. From above the battlefield a rope appeared, dangling from a small glowing portal. The witch and her barbarian bodyguard slid down the rope and landed amongst the rubble. They began piling up the corpses of the fallen enemies.

Mytrym turned and walked over to check on the elven cleric that Delorian knew was called Amador. The elf sat up and shook his head, bits of rock and dust shaking from his hair. “Damn, that hurt.” The elf allowed Mytrym to help him up then the two turned and walked back to the conversation.

With a woosh the witch lit the pile of corpses afire. Delorian frowned, “Strange custom.”

The witch held up a finger. Delorian recognized the color of the skin. It must have been from one of his ‘companions’. The witch sounded like she was smiling behind the mask, “It only takes this much to bring one back, I like to make sure my enemies don’t take revenge on me.”

Tanerus piped up, “So why did you help us then?” He was fidgeting, hopping from one leg to another, finding it hard to stay still.

Delorian sighed, “Clariburnus knew that there would those that wanted to make sure you failed in your tasks, so he sent me to aid you. And now it seems that I am stuck out here.”

The witch sighed, “What task?” Everyone turned to her and she explained, “Look, I’m looking for Lurkhaus. You people claim you killed him, but there is no body. Now something is going on here. Something Lurkhaus was connected to. I want to know what it is.”

Delorian frowned, “Who are you?” He pointed to the halfling and the elf, “These two Clariburnus told me about, but not you,” he pointed at the witch and her companion, “or you,” he pointed at Mytrym.

Mytrym frowned, “I told you who I am. I’m with them.” He pointed at Tanerus and Amador.

The witch sighed, “I’m Drena, and this is Navarr. We are looking for a Red Wizard of Thay. Look, I know that Lurkhaus had some sort of deal going with someone, but I don’t know what, and its my task to stop it from happening.”

Delorian nodded, “Well I can not go back, so if you would have me I would venture into the Underdark with you.”

That comment got Amador’s attention, “You know much of our quest then.”

Drena shook her head, “Wait a minute, the Underdark, what is point you toward the Underdark?”

Tanerus grinned, “Well we found this big door, and well on the otherside, Underdark… so you know.” He shrugged a bit.

Drena looked shocked, “So you just plan on wandering around the Underdark. Are you looking for something in particular? Or just wanting to run into drow for fun?”

Navarr looked around the ruins, eyes narrowed, as if drow would materialize around them at any minute. He growled low, “Drow.”

Tanerus shook his head at Navarr, “Not here, five thousand meters underground.” Delorian assumed the halfling was known for exaggerations. 

Navarr looked at the ground beneath his feet then looked at Amador and whispered, “Is five thousand meters far?” 

Amador smirked and nodded, “Yeah, don’t worry about it.” The barbarian nodded and seemed to relax.

Tanerus chuckled, “Of course we have a reason to go down there. We are looking for something.”

Drena sighed, “Something? Care to be more specific?”

Tanerus shook his head, “No. Why should I? We don’t know you?”

Navarr shrugged, “We helped you in the fight. Besides if this thing is magic it could be what the Red Wizard seeks.”

Drena nodded, “Look, I know that Lurkhaus had some sort of deal going with drow. Maybe I can go with you, will probably lead me to the Red Wizard.”

Tanerus frowned, “Perhaps… we should go talk to Gregor and Will.” 

The group started walking toward the fortress. After a few steps the halfling’s voice interrupted his thoughts. Somehow the halfling was speaking telepathically to him. “Clariburnus and I had a deal… I have information for him...” The halfling filled Delorian in on the groups progress then added, “Now I have given you what Clariburnus asked for… I want what is mine.”

Delorian answered back in his mind, “I have what you need, but we should wait till we are in private. And you need to make sure the group allows me to travel along.”

Amador looked over at the pair. Delorian thought he saw a look of suspicion as the elf glanced between him and Tanerus. “So, uh… who was that big shade that showed up anyways?” asked Amador.

Tanerus frowned. “I don’t know, I missed most of the fight.” He quickly added, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Delorian sighed softly, “That was the High Prince’s chamberlain.”

“Halibert, Harfinar… or something. It started with an ‘H’,” added Tanerus.

Delorian smirked, “Hadrhune.” He glanced up when he saw the fortress they had finally arrived at. As the portcullis lifted they walked through into the caverns beyond. 


Inside Will, Gregor, and Serin met the group. Introductions and explanations were made, and soon the group got down to business. Will started, “Serin has brought us some important news.”

The woman stepped forward and nodded, “The militia managed to track the drow that attacked the city back to a set of ancient crypts south of town. Its an area that is supposedly haunted.”

Will nodded, “This means there are multiple entrances to the Underdark in the area. Whats more, we know that the drow are coming west from the east. All the information we have points to a drow city somewhere off to the east in the Underdark. That means this crypt entrance is closer to the final destination of the raiding parties and thus the collector.”

Gregor nodded, “Will and I talked. We decided that the drow threat is far more important than finishing clearing the Aerie.”

“So the plan is for me to use teleport spells I have scribed onto scroll to get you guys close to the crypts. Then you can hit the Underdark and keep after the collector. Hopefully you can catch whomever it is off guard.” Will tapped a pair of scrolls tucked into his belt. “Just let me know when you want to go.”

Tanerus looked to everyone else, then over to Delorian. “How about tomorrow?” Everyone agreed and the group retired for the night.

***

Tanerus looked at the small vial in his hands. Delorian had delivered it just as he had promised, but had also warned Tanerus to be sure he knew what he was getting into. Tanerus frowned and shook his head. He knew what he wanted. Perhaps Delorian did not like the idea of another person able to manipulate shadows around. 

When he popped the cork, Tanerus was surprised to see the liquid inside flow up out of the vial as if now more of a gas than a liquid. The glow red eyes that appeared in the middle of the inky darkness startled the halfling. It was a shadow, just like the ones that had tormented him on the Plane of Shadow. The halfling scrambled back, but the shadow followed, flowing up to in front of him. 

“Well, well, a halfling, how interesting.” The shadow grinned, its sharp teeth gleamed in the relative darkness of the small room. “I’m going to enjoy this.” The shadow slid to one side and looked Tanerus up and down.

“Lets get this over with.” Tanerus licked his suddenly try lips.

“Over with? Why, we have only just begun… you and I will get to know each other real well, little halfling. After all, I go wherever you go.” The shadow’s smile made Tanerus’ heart nearly skip a beat.

The halfling whispered softly, “What do you mean, you go where I go?” He was afraid he already knew the answer.

The shadow cackled, “I’m your shadow!” With that it threw itself at Tanerus. The halfling screamed and threw up his arms, trying to protect himself. The shadow passed straight through him. The cold that flowed through Tanerus reminded him of the chills that sickness brought on. It numbed him to the very bone.

He whimpered and looked back. The shadow was behind him. It slid up along his own shadow and then flowed over it, becoming one with his own shadow. The darkness slid down his own shadow till he felt the cold of the shadow’s touch joining at his feet. He started when the shadow’s eyes snapped back open, staring at him.

“I’ll be here forever. Someday I’ll let you see into the shadow realm, the true realm. But till then I’ll watch you, be with you, and show you what it will be like for you in shadows.”

The halfling threw himself into bed and yanked the covers over his head. “Oh gods, this isn’t happening.”

“Oh yes… yes it is…”

***

The teleportation made Amador sick to his stomach. He shook it off fairly quickly though. The entire group was soon assembled and moving toward the hill that hid the ancient crypts they were going to check out. The holy symbol he wore about his neck felt heavier and heavier, the closer they got to the crypts. Finally they rounded a bend and the elf reached up and touched the holy symbol gently, muttering a soft prayer of thanks to his god. He was one step closer to the vengeance he sought.

The crypts were nothing more than a single pair of standing mausoleums right in front of a door built into the hillside. On the either side of the hill door stood two columns depicting armored skeletal warriors. Myrtym knelt near the ground and frowned. “Tracks lead in and out of the hill door.”

Navarr growled, “Then we go there.”

Mytrym looked up at the headstrong berserker, “Not so fast. There are more tracks, coming in and out of there.” He pointed at one of the two mausoleums. 

Amador turned to where Mytrym was pointing and frowned. The doors had a thick seal of plaster around them. “Mytrym, that’s impossible. Those doors are sealed. That plaster is ancient.” 

Mytrym nodded, “I know. The tracks start right outside the door. As if something appears and then walks away.”

Amador looked back at the door still frowning, “Appears?” He did not like the sound of that. He could feel the taint of death, or perhaps undeath, that hung in the area. He only knew of one type of undead that walked on the ground but also could disappear. Vampires. Wraiths and ghosts never walked, just floated. Ghasts, ghouls and other sorts of corporeal undead all lacked the ability to fly or disappear like this.

Navarr growled, “The way ahead is clear. These ancient crypts are not our concern.” The group generally agreed and the moved toward the large door into the hillside. Tanerus kneeled down began to examine the door. Finally he stood and pulled on the handles, certain the door was not trapped.

Nothing happened. Or more accurately, the halfling pulled and the doors held tight. A soft rattle could be heard. The doors were chained on the other side. Everyone turned to look at Delorian.

The shade frowned. “We have no idea what is in there…”

Myrtrym strode up and smiled, “Here, allow me.” He took hold of the doors and pulled hard. The chain held. The paladin braced himself and pulled even harder. The ancient metal handle snapped from the moorings in the door, sending the paladin sprawling backwards. Amador shook his head and chuckled gently.

Delorian shrugged, “I guess I have no choice.” He reached down and pulled either side of his shadow up, just like he was pulling a dark cloth over his head. It enveloped him then fluttered to the ground before disappearing completely. 

Amador looked at the others in the group. They all waited patiently. Tanerus got that far off look in his eyes. He must be talking telepathically to Delorian, Amador thought. His suspicions were confirmed momentarily. 

“He says that the chain has a lock… by the sounds of it a fairly sturdy one.” Tanerus talked in a detached tone.

Drena frowned, “How are you talking to him?”

Tanerus looked up and her, “I’m a ghostwise.”

“This means nothing to me,” growled the witch.

“Telepathy.”

“Oh, well then… have him return.” The witch pulled a small gem from one pouch. “He can open the lock with this.”

Tanerus frowned, “How?”

“Just tell him to come back.” Amador smirked. Drena never seemed to like to explain herself.

When Delorian reappeared he turned to Drena and held out a hand. “How will this help?” He examined the gem after she passed it to him.

Drena sighed and said, “It enchanted. You set it on the ground and it will shatter and open the nearest lock.” 

The shade nodded sagely, “I see… alright then.” He then shadow-stepped back through the doorway. A few moments later the doors swung open. Amador was surprised to see that laying in the hallway beyond the door was a group of dead drow. They all wore black tabards, but had otherwise been stripped of arms and armor.

As the group fanned out forward along the hall and into a side crypt by the bodies, Amador kneeled down to check the bodies. Mytrym knelt down beside him. The paladin looked to Amador and noted, “Looks like quite a fight… blade wounds, scorch marks, claw marks… what didn’t they fight?”

Amador smirked, “Us. Beyond that, I couldn’t begin to tell.” He stood and wiped his hands on top of his pants. “We should move on. There may be more were these came from.” Amador sure hoped so. He gripped the hilt of his sword tight. Soon he would get to strike back at his hated enemy.

He heard Mytrym say, “Take this Tanerus, wear it. I will be able to better protect you.” The paladin said a prayer over a pair of rings, handing one to the halfling. Amador recognizes the prayer as one that would cause the paladin to share in the wounds that Tanerus might receive. Certainly the paladin good weather the damage better than the small halfling.

The group came around a corner, to find a door on one side of the hall. The corridor continued past another door on the other side of the hall, then eventually down a pair of steps. By the time Amador rounded the corner and took everything in, Tanerus was already kneeling at the first door. He stood up after a few moments of examining the door. “Looks safe to me.” He tugged on the door and it opened easily. 

A flash of bright light illuminated the halfling’s features. They turned from resolution to fear and the halfling scrambled back. Amador released the hilt of his still sheathed sword and quickly pulled his bow up. A massive golden glowing lion, at least ten feet long, sprang out at Tanerus, ripping at the small halfling. Amador heard Mytrym grunt in pain, but the paladin seemed unhindered by the wounds that ripped open along his chest.

Amador loosed two arrows at the massive lion, but both of the arrows barely managed to pierce the glowing hide of the mystical lions. The cleric cursed softly. A second lion burst from the room, turned the corner and raced at the rest of the party. Mytrym stepped up to intercept the large cat. It flung itself at him, but its claws raked harmlessly against his armor.

Tanerus managed to scramble out from beneath the lion that had pinned him down. Once free the halfling vaulted into the air, landed in a roll and slid easily past the second lion to the relative safety of the back of the group. Amador had seen elven acrobats that could not move like that halfling managed to move.

Mytrym shoved the lion on him back with his shield and lashed out with his sword. The blade cut deep, into the joint of the lions left forward shoulder. It severed muscle and cut into bone, crippling the mighty beast. 

Delorian appeared beside the lion that had attacked Tanerus. He slammed his fist into the beast’s flank. The beast’s hide was tough, but he could tell that he was hurting it some, for the beast howled and turned toward him. 

Navarr stepped in beside Delorian. He was holding a long sword that glowed with a soft bluish light. He stabbed the sword into the beast, slicing through its hide as if it were not even there. The beast howled and tried to lash out at the barbarian, raking its claws across Navarr’s shoulders. 

Drena stepped to behind Navarr and muttered a soft spell. Energy coursed through Navarr’s form, giving him a burst of extra speed and agility. 

Amador realized that these beasts were magically summoned by whatever that flash he had seen was. He knew then he could send them back to wherever they had come from. He focused on the closest lion and muttered his prayers. A golden sparkle of energy arced toward the lion, but its natural resistances to magic shattered the arcing beam into a million minor harmless rays.

The lion on Navarr continued to tear into him. It grabbed a hold of him and raked again and again with its claws, cutting huge rips out the barbarian’s muscular chest. Its companion was attempting to do the same to Mytrym with only mild success. 

Flipping back to between the lions, Tanerus barely avoided the swipe of one of the lion’s claws while he was distracted. He regained his footing and struck back, leaping on the back of the lion on Mytrym. His blade sunk deep between the wounded lion’s shoulder blades.

Myrtym and Delorian continued to slice and pummel beasts as well, weakening them further. Finally a flurry of small glowing orbs flew past Amador. He watched them slam into one lion. The beast disappeared in a flash of magical light.

Navarr still struggled with the beast he faced. Amador saw Tanerus slide in and knew the fight would soon be over. Tanerus did not disappoint. He slid up under the beast, stabbing deep into its chest and ripping backwards. As he rolled away, the cut grew even deeper, till the best also disappeared in a shower of light.


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## Wraithdrit (Jul 15, 2003)

The group quickly collected together and assessed the damage the celestial dire lions had caused. The beast were amazingly tough, and had done considerable damage, but it was nothing that few potions, cure spells, and laying on of hands could not patch up. The room beyond the glyph was a tomb, holding several sarcophagi. 

Drena started to step into the room. “Should we see whats in them?”

Amador shook his head, “No. Do not disturb the rest of the dead.”

Drena seemed taken aback. “These are not elves…” The elven cleric did not seem phased by the revelation. “Look, the glyph was to guard something. We don’t know who is buried here, why, or who put the glyph there.”

Amador seemed unwilling to budge, “We shall not disturb the dead.” He dropped one hand to the hilt of his sword. “I will have words with any who would.”

Navarr was quick to step in front of Drena. He frowned, thrusting one hand out toward Amador. “This is no reason to fight.” The barbarian looked back at Drena. The witch sighed behind her mask.

“Fine. We move on.” She stomped past muttering under breath about wanting to get answers, not disturb the dead.


Tanerus watched the exchange, shaking his head. He slipped into the room and search around to make sure there were no secret exits. Careful not to touch the sarcophagi, he soon emerged. “Nothing in there but the dead. The sarcophagi all look sealed up.”

The group passed the second door after Tanerus declared that it was still sealed as well. As the halfling proceeded past the group, his shadow shifted to whisper in his ear, “See, here we go again, to the front. You do all the work around here, and for what? A cut of nonexistent treasure? Gratitude? Ha. Pathetic. They use you Tanerus. They use your talents and could care less about you.”

The halfling hissed, “Shut up.”

Mytrym looked over as Tanerus passed. “Hmm?” 

Tanerus stopped and looked over at the paladin and swallowed, “Uh, I said ‘Step up.’ It’s the ghostwise term for taking the lead.” He turned and walked off.

Mytrym watched him go, frowning. He was starting to sense something wrong with the halfling, but he could not really place it. 

The passage soon led them down a staircase and into a natural cavern. The worked portion of the crypts behind them, the graves here were more carved niches in the wall that the ancient builders of this crypt had just set bodies in. In the middle of the first cavern stood a large alien looking statue. Amador looked at the statue and concluded, “It’s a deity depiction, but I can’t tell you which one. None that I have ever heard of.” 

Tanerus searched the statue, found it to be harmless and useless, so the group moved on. The cavern narrowed and turned a sharp corner. As Tanerus rounded the corner, his thoughts wandered over the past few days. How the group had changed. Not that the group had been all that long in traveling together to begin with. 

He glanced around to make sure that there were no hidden traps to impede their progress. When the sticky tendrils erupted from the shadows ahead of him, the halfling screamed and threw himself to one side. He had not been fast enough to get out of the reach of the tentacles, and two slapped against his arm, wrapping around him and yanking him forward. The mere touch of the slime covered tentacles stung like mad. 

The halfling shuddered and felt his muscles go slack as the tentacle wielding chunk of rock pulled him in. He saw the rock split, revealing a mouth of sharp teeth. Luckily it turned him as it pulled him to bite him. He really did not want to watch himself being devoured.

From place within the writhing tentacles, the creature biting into his thigh he could see the others racing around the corner to aid him. Mytrym led the charge, of course, his sword charged with the glowing energy of the paladin’s holy might. Drena stepped in next, stopping to conjure a bolt of acid that slammed into the creature well above where Tanerus was being mauled. Delorian rolled in next, kicking up to vault from wall and slam into the creature with one foot. Navarr followed the monk in, the sword he had used in the last encounter out, glowing bright, slicing upward at the roper. Amador brought up the rear, stopping next to Drena to cast a bolt of searing light at the beast. The ray sliced through the air, but went wide to one side of the creature.

The roper was not unprepared for the onslaught. All but the two tentacles that held Tanerus lashed out as the group charged forward. Two whipped into Mytrym, but the paladin seemed unphased. Navarr was not so lucky. A tentacle slammed into him and the barbarian growled in pain, his strength sapping away.

Mytrym sliced one of the two tentacles on him away with a quick slice of his blade, but it was not enough to keep the creature from yanking him in. It pulled Tanerus aside, dangling the helpless halfling off to one side so it could chew on the armor-encased paladin. A tentacle lashed out at Delorian, but the monk was far too fast, the tentacle slammed into the rock behind him. The monk spun and slammed his fist into the creature’s side, feeling the rocky hide buckle beneath his blow. Amador pulled up his bow and fired off a pair of arrows, but they too sailed wide of the creature. 

Mytrym again sliced with his sword, this time slicing clean the other tentacle. Freed he backed a step or two from the mouth and prepared to reengage the creature. 

All the while the acid from Drena’s spell burned into the creature. It was not long before the combined attacks of the heroes made the creature release Tanerus. Delorian slammed his fist into the creature twice more and finally the beast breathed out a sigh and collapsed, dead.

Tanerus moaned softly as Amador rolled him to laying face up. He prayed to his elven god and layed his hands on the halfling. Color returned to Tanerus’ face and the halfling sat up. Navarr also looked bad. His sword was only barely clasped in his hands. Amador whispered another prayer and it eased the pain enough that Navarr was able to walk. The barbarian was no where near his full strength, but at least he was able to get around and would not be useless in a fight. 

“Those are all the restorative spells I have… I can fully cure your strengths in the morning.” The elf looked a bit worried, but Tanerus waved him off.

“I’ll be fine, lets keep going.” Tanerus picked up his short sword and stepped back to the lead of the party.

The light from the party cast the halfling’s shadow ahead of him. The shadow grinned and whispered, “See, even drained of your strength, they expect you to lead. They use you Tanerus, get used to it.”

The halfling smirked and pointed his hooded lantern at the shadow. “Shut up.” He opened the shutter and light poured out of the lamp, forcing the shadow to behind the halfling. Chuckling, Tanerus continued forward.


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## Wraithdrit (Jul 15, 2003)

*Forgotten Post*

Hey all. I wanted to correct an error that somehow occured in not this last post but the one before it. Somehow I managed to get only the second half of the post originally. I edited the beginning half into place.

There was some significant stuff going on between the end of the fight and when Tanerus opens the vial and I don't know how it got missed. If you follow my website, you got it all in the right order. 

Now this site should be correct as well. Sorry for the mistake and thanks to Tanerus' player for letting me know about the error.

- Wraith


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## Wraithdrit (Jul 21, 2003)

Mytrym smiled as he watched the little halfling move forward into the darkness. He admired the bravery the little scout had. Sure his motives seemed suspect now and then, but in general the little guy was all right, and he was one heck of a scout.

The paladin glanced over the rest of the party. Amador he knew well enough, but the rest he just was not very sure about. The witch and her berserker companion seemed only interested in the Red Wizard named Lurkhaus. That left the shade Delorian. Mytrym watched the shade pick his way slowly and deliberately along the cavern. He seemed to almost disappear amongst the shadows, something that was certainly not outside his realm of capability. But each time he thought the shade had stepped back to his home plane the monk would appear again and slip into the next shady bit of darkness he found. 

Even the drow that Mytrym grew up with did not use darkness the way the shade did. The paladin wondered for a moment whether the shade was truly on their side, or was the whole battle before just some sort of ruse to gain their trust. The thought amused Mytrym, that was drow thinking. In the drow cities everything was a conspiracy intended to better only those directly involved in the hatching of the plan. 

Tanerus called softly back, “Something up here.” The group gathered and the halfling showed them how his hand could pass directly through the wall. He slipped through the illusion and quickly called back, “On me! To arms!”

Mytrym already had his sword out and was plunging through the illusion the moment Tanerus cried out. He saw that there was a pair of massive spider like creatures in the cavern beyond. As he entered he saw Tanerus tumble up beneath of the creatures. He slammed his small sword up into the creatures soft underside, but his sword was turned by the thick hide that protected the beast. 

Realizing that this fight would probably not be easy, the paladin quickly quaffed a healing potion. He would be no use to anyone dead.

The berserker, Navarr, ran out past Mytrym and sliced at the first of the spider creatures. His sword bounced harmlessly off a piece of armored chitin. Behind the first spider creature, the second spider like beast reared up onto its hind pairs of legs and spat forth webbing. The thicky substance laced across the entrance of the cavern, covering it in sticky strands. Navarr cried out as the strands laced over him as well. He was stuck tight. Mytrym managed duck down and to one side, the webbing surrounded him, but did not catch him.

Amador moved in through the illusion and into the back of the webbing. Frowning he tried to see through the web. Delorian stepped up beside the cleric, nodded then pulled his shadow up across him, stepping through the dark doorway it created.

Ahead Mytrym could hear the creatures closing on the web. Navarr screamed out in pain, then a massive column of holy fire that cascaded over the two creatures lit the entire cavern. Mytrym looked back to see Amador lowering his hands, satisfied with his spell’s results. 

Drena stepped up beside the cleric and lowered one hand and pointed to the back of the cavern. Ignoring Delorian’s presence in the area, Drena released a scream and a small pulse of sound arced forward to explode in the cavern. The roar of sound was incredible. The creatures screamed and scittered about in pain. Drena frowned, “Bebilith demons… spider like demons, very hard to hurt and very dangerous.”

Tanerus backed toward the web and away from demons. He pulled out his wand, fumbled with it, but could not get the magic item to do anything.

Mytrym knew he could not get out of the webs, so he pulled his bow out and loosed a pair of arrows toward the closest demon. The arrows caught in the web halfway there.

Amador nodded to Drena’s description then commented, “They did not seem to like the flames the first time, so…” He called forth to Corellian and once again flames erupted in a column around the demons. They cried out again, writhing in pain.

Mytrym could not see the fight well from within the webs, but he heard Navarr cry out in pain again. Another ball of sound rippled forth and exploded around the demons. The webs whipped about in the explosion, then settled again. The demons did not get back. Bits of their hard-shelled bodies was stuck the web here and there. Mytrym looked back and nodded, “Good work.”

Navarr coughed up ahead. Good, Mytrym thought, he made it. The paladin was able to push backwards through the web and pull back to the corridor. Delorian stepped out of a shadow and joined Drena, Amador and Mytrym there. Delorian frowned, “I couldn’t hurt them, the shells were too hard.”

Mytrym shook his head, “I couldn’t get to them, much less see them. If it hadn’t been for these too being able to lob spells from back here, that could have gone very badly.”

Amador smiled and shrugged, “We try.”

Drena shook her head smirking. “Bebilith’s are large, but minor demons in the grand scheme of things. They are not even considered Tanari.”

Mytrym nodded, he knew a bit about the outer planes, and her explanation made sense. “Well do you think we should just rest till the webbing fails or try to rip through it.”

From the other side of the web Tanerus called, “Uh, guys?”

Mytrym called back, “Yeah Tanerus?”

“Navarr doesn’t look so good.” Mytrym looked to Delorian, who nodded and stepped through a shadow to the other side. Mytrym, Amador and Drena began to try and rip through the webbing. Tanerus continued, a bit more frantic, “He’s going into convulsions.”

Amador cursed in elven and added, “Poison.”

Mytrym was making a quick swathe through the tough webbing, the other two behind him. When he finally broke loose to the other side he saw that Delorian and Tanerus had freed Navarr of the webbing and laid him on the ground. Blood had run from his ears, mouth, nose and eyes. His bloodshot eyes stared at the ceiling of the cavern.

Tanerus sniffed and wiped the back of his arm across his nose. He muttered, “Nothing we could do.”

Amador dropped down to beside the dead berserker. “I … I couldn’t have stopped the poison had been here.” He looked back at Drena, “I don’t have that spell ready…” He swallowed and looked back at the berserker’s corpse. “I can raise him tomorrow…”

Drena stepped forward quickly, “No! I will return him to his homeland.”

Tanerus blinked, “What? What about the wizard? What about helping us?”

Drena narrowed her eyes, and spoke softly through the mask. “To Hades with the damn wizard.”


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## Wraithdrit (Jul 31, 2003)

*Above the Crypts, South of Dagger Falls
Marpenoth 3, 1372
Just Before Dawn*

Mytrym walked slowly around, mainly keeping an eye on the crypts in the distance. He scanned the edge of the woods nearby not and then, but somehow never saw the strange looking creature till it was nearly twenty feet from him. He started and drew his sword calling out, “Arise!”

His companions began springing up from their bedrolls, most slept with a weapon either in hand or at least very close. They all turned to look at the strange being that had walked into their camp.

A small mangy wolf like dog crouched beside his leg, the creature looked like a hairless humanoid. Its head was large; its eyes large even for its head, and its limps where longer than normal. It wore serviceable outdoor clothes, a strange harness of daggers, and had a massive cloak draped over its shoulders. “Put-ck away your weapons. I mean you no harm-ck.”

Mytrym took a couple steps closer, “Who are you?”

Amador frowned from behind the paladin and muttered to the others, “Or what?”

The creature nodded its head, “I am tck-called Plickit. Plickit Ka. I wish you no ham-ck. I have been sent-ck by Randal Morn.” Every now and then its speech seemed to be interrupted by a weird clicking noise in the creatures throat. It drew forth a small bound note and tossed it forward toward the party. Tanerus caught the note, opened it and read it.

“Its true. Morn sent him to aid us against the drow. Why were you asked to help us?” The halfling eyed the strange creature.

“You fight-ck the elves of the dar-tck-kness. I am good at-ck hunt-ck-ing elveses.” The creature cocked its head to the side at a weird angle. “Where is your friend-ck?”

The heroes looked around and realized that Delorian had shadow stepped to behind the creature. Amador nodded over the creatures shoulder, “Behind you.” Plickit’s head rotate all the way around on its shoulders, looking straight back at the shade.

Delorian frowned, “Move into the fire’s light.” As the two stepped further into the light Delorian asked Tanerus, “Why should we trust this Morn?”

Tanerus frowned, “Morn is our ally. I trust him.”

Amador nodded, “More than we trust you…”

Tanerus looked at Amador and shook his head, “Delorian has Clariburnus’ backing. That’s good enough for me.” The shade and the halfling exchanged a look, then everyone turned back to Plickit. 

Amador asked louder, “What are you?”

Plickit cocked its head at Amador then began to shift in form. The whole group tensed, what they saw when the shift ended did not really allow for much of a relaxing of their guard. In the place of a strange looking humanoid stood a six foot tall mantis. Four arms ended in hands, the clothing mostly disappeared, replaced with hide like armor and a large bandoleer of strange wedge shaped weapons.

Delorian growled, “A thri-kreen… your friend Morn has sent you a slave.”

Plickit turned to look at Delorian and corrected him after a loud click, “The shades may enslave my people, but I am not-ck a slave.”

Amador was not much happier, “Thri-kreen eat elves.”

Plickit turned to the elf, “I will not-ck eat-ck you. I am sent-ck to help you.” 

Tanerus grinned, “The drow?”

Plickit shrugged, “Them I will eat-ck.”

Mytrym shook his head, “I’m not to sure about this… but if you guys say you trust this Morn fellow, then I’ll give him the chance to prove it.”

Delorian remained quiet, but was obviously not happy with the situation.

It was soon time to break camp, and the group of five entered back into the crypts. Tanerus lead the way, followed shortly by the Thri-kreen. Mytrym was a ways behind Plickit and was followed shortly thereafter by Amador and Delorian. On the way into the crypt, Plickit moved up to Mytrym his animal companion with him. Plickit pointed at the paladin and clicked out several strange noises.

The desert jackal seemed to understand, and fell into step beside Mytrym. Plickit looked at the paladin. “You are tck-guarded-ck.”

Myrytrm cocked an eyebrow then shrugged and watched the mantis warrior follow Tanerus into the crypts.

Eventually the group returned to where they had fought the demonic spider creatures. They quickly found the next illusionary wall and Tanerus glanced through. He pulled back after a few seconds and reported, “A drow woman, weeping on the other side of the room. I don’t trust it at all.” He pulled his hood and melded with the stone behind him. Plickit moved to the opposite wall, his shell and armor seemed to begin to take on the hue of the wall behind him.

The two slipped through the opening and were quickly followed by the others. Mytrym stepped through and raised one hand, “She is evil.”

The cavern exploded in action. The drow woman pulled a hidden wand and rapier from behind her. She leveled the wand and several small globes of energy ripped forth and plunged at Myrtym. The brooch he wore on his left breast glowed bright and the globes were sucked within it, causing no harm.

The paladin hefted his bastard sword in one hand and growled, “You have to do better than that.” As he started to step forward, a thick mass of webbing dropped on all but Tanerus and Plickit.

Amador managed to turn such that the web did not stick to him in most places, but he was trapped near the center of the sticky strands. He pulled his bowstring back and shot at the drow woman. One of the arrows sunk deep into her shoulder, but his second shot sailed wide to one side.

Delorian also managed to twist amongst the strands of webbing to not be stuck fast. He pulled at the shadows beside him on the wall and stepped through. He stepped out beside the drow woman and lifted a knee up to slam into her gut. She doubled over in pain, but was obviously not out of the fight yet.

From his hidden position, Tanerus dropped to one knee, aimed his crossbow and let loose at the woman. The bolt sank deep into her side. So ganged up on, the woman was going down quickly. Still she was alive and fighting.

Mytrym growled at being caught in webbing yet again. He yanked at the sticky strands and plowed forward, easily ripping the sticky strands that clung to his armor.

Plickit was nowhere to be seen. He seemed to be trying to move into a better position.

Above the group, the second assailant that had dropped the web, muttered some strange arcane words. A small force shield appeared in front the strange spider like creature.

The drow woman stepped back from Delorian and underwent a strange shift. Her lower jaw shifted and split, becoming mandibles. Her eyes became multifaceted and hair grew along the back of her arms and legs, which seemed to thin to unnatural proportions. 

Amador tried to move forward, but the web stuck tight to him. Mytrym continued to rip through the webbing, stepping out into the open finally. Tanerus dropped his crossbow and rolled forward behind the spiderwoman. Delorian tried to finish her off. He connected with a vicious punch to her temple. Somehow she still survived. She spun away after the first hit though, and managed to block his other two blows. 

Tanerus slipped up behind her. His sword slashed out, and bit deep. Gore flowed freely from her back, and the woman collapsed to the cavern floor.

The second spider woman dropped from the ceiling. As she fell, six of her eight legs melded with her body. When she landed beside Mytrym she was like her fallen companion, some strange hybrid of woman and spider.

Mytrym shook his head, “Bad landing spot.” He pulled his sword back in a long arc.

Delorian rolled in behind the creature and leapt up and kicked her in the side of the head. As she stumbled Mytrym moved to strike. His sword flashed forward, the blade lit brightly. A prayer to his goddess flowing from his lips, the paladin sank the weapon deep into the woman chest, killing her.

As the woman fell at his feet Mytrym growled, “If there is one thing I can’t stand, its spider worshippers.”


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## Wraithdrit (Aug 8, 2003)

The heroes gathered back together quickly and searched the room, discovering and looting the strange spider women’s small stash of treasure. Tanerus soon called out from one side of the room. “Another fake wall.”

He turned and slipped his head through the illusion only to stuff his face into a sticky web on the other side. The halfling muttered soft curses and tried to pull free. When that failed he whipped out a dagger and cut himself free. He stumbled back, strings of webbing sticking to his face. 

Mytrym reached up and yanked one of the sticky strands free. The halfling slapped at the paladins hands, “Ow! Don’t do that.” He rubbed the sore spot on his skin, only to get his hand stuck. He yanked it loose with a curse and yanked the small candle out of his lantern. “I know how you deal with a web!” He thrust his arm through the illusionary wall.

Forty feet away, on the other side of the illusionary wall, several crates were stacked at the exit of the natural corridor that led to a large cavern. Behind the stacked crates crouched the guards of the Drow noble house Morcane. They had prepared for the heroes, the fight on the other side of the wall having easily alerted them to the danger. A little halfling head poking barely through the webbing had been hard to miss. The candle that lit up the corridor was impossible to miss. All three of the guards pulled the triggers of their hand crossbows.

Tanerus shuddered as the three small bolts peppered his shoulder and side. As he fell back into view, his eyes closed. He crumpled to the ground asleep. The entire party started to react. The blast of ice and wind that smashed through their midst completely disoriented the group. Delorian was the only member of the group not caught in the dangerous storm of ice. 

Amador dropped down in the howling wind and grabbed at Tanerus. He muttered a few words and the poison keeping the halfling asleep dissipated. The halfling scrambled to his feet amidst the howling wind and dove through the illusionary wall. Mytrym also stepped through, a divine prayer slipping from his lips, his arm strengthened by the divine favor he was blessed with. They did not make it far when Plickit uncorked a strange bottle that was strapped to his arm. Smoke shot out of the bottle and enveloped the party, spreading out quickly. The thri-kreen used the smoke to also move forward hidden with the others.

That’s when the first lightning bolt ripped down the corridor. It blasted through most of the group. Tanerus managed to hurl himself to the ground, but everyone else but Delorian were singed by the energy of the powerful spell. Amador dropped to one knee and cast a protection spell on himself, warding off evil in its many forms.

Tanerus, Mytrym, and Plickit continued forward. As they went, the corridor was again filled with the crackling energy of lightning. This time two smaller bolts ripped through the corridor. Myrtym grunted from the pain and paused long enough to lay hands on himself. The healing energy of Eilistrae coursed through him and he continued toward the enemy unseen beyond the bounds of the smoke.

The drow spellguard chuckled as he watches his minions toss the magic javelins down the corridor. This was perfect, the group was playing straight into their hands. It was a perfect killing zone, just like he had planned. He nodded at the third guard. The guard slipped behind a corner and waited to ambush the first hero that stuck their head out.

As the blowing ice finally subsided Delorian stepped into the fog. As the swirling fog surrounded him, the monk strode forward with long loping steps. He passed through the corridor, passing the members of his group that were picking their way through the fog. The monk burst from the fog and charge forward at the closest barricade. 

Right beside Delorian, the fog parted to belch forth the shiny metal form of the paladin. His armor shone in the light that his shield spread on the room. He leapt forward into the fray calling out to his goddess.

Surprised that anyone had lived through the barrage of magic, and recognizing the symbol and call of the hated good dancing wench goddess, the spellguard leveled his hand at Mytrym and spoke a few arcane words. Small globes of energy sprouted from his hand and hurled toward the paladin. At the last minute they changed course and slammed into the small brooch that Mytrym wore.

Amador moved up behind the others, stopping to cast a quick heal spell on himself. Tanerus rolled into the room, vaulted over the barrier, coming to land opposite of Delorian. He lashed out with his sword, but the guard was quick, turning to block the blow with his shield.

He countered with two swipes of his own blade, but Tanerus ducked backwards. The blade whipped through the air in front of him. The other visible guard stepped to behind Delorian and struck out with his sword. Delorian was watching for the attack and dodged from the path of the first strike. The drow was fast though, and his second strike sunk into the monk’s side. Delorian pulled back from the blow, but was not worried, his shadow blood would heal the wound in no time. 

Instead he spun on the guard. The back of his fist slammed into the guards jaw, spinning his head to one side. Delorian then brought a knee up and slammed into the guards flank, smashing into his kidney. The guard yelled out in pain, but did not fall.

Having corked the eversmoking bottle, Plickit moved out of the smoke quietly, staying to the edge of the wall. When he turned a corner, he startled a drow guard that had a hard time seeing Plickit. His ring had made him the same color as his surroundings. The thri-kreen and the drow both started to act, but the insect warrior was blinding fast. His four arms were a blur. Throwing wedges slammed into the surprised guard over and over.

When the body hit the ground, eight large wedge shaped blades stuck from the corpse. The drow had never even had a chance to pull the trigger of his hand crossbow.

The group could see the spellguard clinging to the back wall of the room, casting spells from halfway up the wall. The figure that floated out of the shadows took them by complete surprise. It was a cleric of Lloth. The woman floated forward, eyes burning as she stared at Plickit. “Impudent bug! Die!” She flicked her wrist and shoved a wand forward. Searing white light shot forth and sprayed over Plickit. The insect warrior staggered to one knee. The combination of lightning bolts, the ice storm and now the searing light were all starting to add up. He did not know how much more he could take.

The spellguard chuckled as the thri-kreen stumbled. He pointed at the line he and Mytrym made and muttered to himself, “Perfect… thank you for lining up for me.”

Mytrym was not about to let the mage get off another spell. He had pulled a small stone out as he made his way toward the mage. Between the mage and the cleric he threw the stone. When it slammed into the wall, a crack of thunder ripped through the room. Both the cleric and the mage threw up their hands to protect themselves.  

As the sound dissipated Mytrym’s jaw dropped. Though they were shaken, both of the drow sneered as the loud sound had failed to hurt them.

The spellguard shook his head, “You will have to do better than that.” He called out several arcane words and another bolt of lightning materialized beneath him and shot forth at the pair. Myrtym staggered but pressed forward, growling in pain and frustration.

Plickit was not so lucky. Stumbled by the searing light from the cleric’s wand, he was not ready for the deadly lightning bolt. He saw it coming and managed to roll partially out of the way. It didn’t matter. As the energy ripped through him his large form shuddered and he collapsed to the ground with a sizzling hiss. He was dead, cooked within his armor by spell after spell from the deadly pair.

Mytrym growled out, “You shouldn’t have done that.” The spellguard laughed and pulled a wand from his robe.

Amador finally arrived in the entrance to the room. He peered out of the smoke trying to see what was going on. Tanerus vaulted back over the barrier, trying to keep the guards that he and Delorian were fighting off balance. He stabbed out again, and again the guard managed to block the attack. For his trouble, the guard rewarded the halfling with a slice across one shoulder. The halfling hissed in pain, his shadow joining him in the protest as it too bled.

The other guard lashed out at Delorian, but the pain from the monk’s blows was more than he could handle and still be able to be effective. 

The priestess of Lloth sneered down at Mytrym, “You have no idea the pain you shall receive at the hands of the spider queen!” She pointed her wand at Mytrym and burst of searing white light rained down on him. The paladin growled in pain. There was not enough room to spread his immense wings that his cloak gave him, and the two were floating well out of reach. In addition some sort of flaming enchantment surrounded the mage. Mytrym knew he was going to need help with these two.

Delorian continued his relentless assault on the guard. He ducked from the guards clumsily counterattacks and hit the guard twice in the face with bottom of his palms. The guard was staggering all over, and was obviously not going to last much longer.

The spellguard chuckled down at the paladin, “Face it. You will never beat us.” He did not use his wand. Instead he shot a ray of energy at the paladin. Mytrym cried out as he felt his strength flowing out of him. His armor felt heavy, his sword weighed a ton, and his pack was weighing him down.

In the whispy smoke at the front of the room Amador growled, “Shut up drow. You talk too much.” He clapped his hands together at the end of a soft prayer. He opened his hands and from his palms a small floating ball of energy floated swiftly toward the pair. When it got right between them Amador slapped his hands back together and the small glow exploded in holy energy.

The mage screamed and threw his hands up, as the bright light slammed into him. “Argh! My eyes!” He clawed at his eyes with his free hand and started to drop toward the ground.  The energy just seemed to flow past the cleric, her natural resistance to spells protecting her.

Tanerus stepped to put the guard once again between him and Delorian. As the guard glanced back to make sure that Delorian was still engaged with the other guard Tanerus struck. His blade slipped easily between the guard’s ribs. He fell to the ground dead.

The guard that Delorian was beating on staggered away and pulled a javelin from his back. He spun and threw it at Delorian. The monk brought one hand up, about to knock the thrown weapon out of the air when it crackled, turning into a bolt of lightning that ripped through him and Mytrym. 

Mytrym stalked up to beneath the two casters, reaching up to grab at the mage, “Come here!” The cleric dropped down in the corner and grabbed a tarp off a small bundle on the ground. 

Beneath it was a bound and gagged form of another drow. She grabbed the woman up and held her in front of her, the wand in her other hand. The cleric growled, “Your dancing goddess is weak.” She shook the hostage, “This is what we do with your kind.”

As the lightning crackled over Delorian, he stepped into the blast. The three strikes he rained onto the guard were so fast the guard never saw it coming. He collapsed to the ground, his ribs broken, one lung punctured, his jaw snapped and his nose broken. He was not feeling the pain; he had died before he even hit the ground.

Amador saw the way Mytrym was barely able to move, and having seen the ray slam into the paladin, he knew some sort of enchantment was sapping his strength. He called up on his god and the chains of the enchantment shattered and Mytrym’s strength began to course back into the paladin.

The drow cleric growled, “Your friends can’t help you… nothing can.” She leveled the wand, and it spit searing light that burned its way up Mytrym’s side. 

The paladin growled in pain and tossed back a potion, hefting his sword. “We’ll see about that, spider kisser!” Delorian appeared from the shadows beside the spellguard. The monk slammed his fist into the side of the mage’s head just as his vision was clearing. The spellguard cried out in pain, an amulet around his neck shattered, and the mage stumbled to one side, holding his wand in one hand and the side of his head in the other.

The monk growled, “Its time to meet true darkness, ‘dark’ elf.”

The spellguard chuckled, “I think not.” He lifted the wand and lightning burst forth, ripping through the monk and the paladin.

Mytrym danced under the pain of the electrical bolt. He growled, “Will you just STOP doing that!” He lashed out at the Spellguard, the mage mistook the blow as intended for him so tried to dodge. When the blade connected with the wand in his hand instead, the dark color of the mage’s skin drained. The wand snapped neatly in the center, little bits of energy piffing from the end. 

The spellguard back peddled, “What… what have you done, you impudent mongrel!” He never saw the little halfling hiding behind him. He shuddered as the blade poked from his chest. Blood started to pour from between his lips. “But…I.”

The mage was well protected, his skin covered in a thick enchantment. But the heroes had dealt with it before. They did have the ability to cut through it with finesse so instead they powered their way through it with sheer force. Tanerus whispered into the mage’s ear. “I don’t care what you people try to protect yourself with. My dagger will find your heart eventually.”

Mytrym stepped up and slashed his sword at the mage even as the spellguard was attempting to mutter another spell. His blade ripped through the mage’s neck and his head fell to the ground with a wet splat.

Meanwhile Delorian cornered the cleric, “Its over, give up.” 

The cleric sneered, “This is far from over.” She shoved the hostage at the monk and leapt back up into the air. 
As she finally cleared the party, Amador had a clear shot at her finally. His prayer was quick. The blades that appeared above the rest of the group whirled and ripped through and around the cleric. Cut after cut ripped into her. She was tossed around like a rag doll, only to fall from the divine storm of blades a bloodied mess. She collapsed to the ground, limbs barely attached, sliced through so many times it was hard to recognize what she had originally been.


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## Wraithdrit (Aug 13, 2003)

Mytrym stepped up to the bound and gagged prisoner. He nudged her with a boot and frowned. “She’s alive but unconscious.”

Amador strode over and saw the drow woman had obviously been beaten. For a moment he thought that it was probably for the better.

Mytrym asked, “Can you heal her? I would but I am out of energy.” The paladin looked at the surface elf, expect him to object.

Amador frowned but nodded, “Alright, how much?”

Mytrym figured he had better not press his luck, “Just enough to get her conscious. We don’t know who she is.”

Delorian listened from near the entrance to the room. He was watching the corridor, just in case something else came after them. He glanced down at the corpse of Plickit and frowned. This Randal Morn fellow had better not give them any grief about his aid dieing so easily. It had all happened so quickly, no one could have prevented the Thri-kreens death.

Tanerus was sitting in the corner of the room. He had found a small lock box on the corpse of the dead drow priestess. His picks were scattered around him, and the box was perched in his lap. He held three picks in his mouth while both hands manipulated picks in the lock of the box. With a snap one of his picks broke in half. The halfling cursed and stood up, letting the box fall to the ground, “Oh that’s pointless! Stupid box.” He considered kicking it, but realized it might have something breakable in it. 

As Amador cast a gently prayer of healing over the drow’s hostage the drow woman’s eyes fluttered open. She coughed and then focused on those around her. Quickly she shoved herself back into a corner, “Who… who are you?”

Mytrym, his shield strapped to his back, his holy symbol tucked away, and his sword in his hand, spoke softly, “We don’t mean you any harm. My name is Mytrym.”

Amador nodded, “Who are you? Why were you being held captive?”

The woman lifted her head a bit, and huffed, “My name is Naria, the Morcane and I share no love. They ambushed me.”

Amador frowned. She was not telling him much. “Why?” His voice was almost a growl. It did not trust the drow woman any further than he could throw her. Undoubtedly her heart was as black as her skin.

“I’m a follower of Eilistrae.” The womand held up her bound hands, “Now if you would be so kind as to set me free…”

Mytrym reacted first, “Not so fast… how do we know you are a follower of Eilistrae.”

The woman smiled at the aasimar paladin. “You don’t. You have only my word. I can not prove my faith in the dancing mistress.”

Tanerus walked over, having listened from a few feet away. “So why are you here then?”

Naria looked over at the halfling, “I’m headed down toward Szith Morcane.” When the words got her nothing but blank looks she explained, “It’s a drow outpost near here.”

Amador nodded, “Why?”

“The dancing mistress wishes that I find the cause of a disturbance in the Weave. It is coming from somewhere in the Underdark. Probably the other side of Szith Morcane, but until I get to the outpost I won’t know that.” She held up her hands again, “Now if you don’t mind…”

Amador and Tanerus both looked to Mytrym. He shrugged, “She has no ill will toward us that I can detect.” 

Tanerus nodded, “Good enough for me.” He drew a dagger and cut Naria loose. The drow nodded her thanks and rubbed at her wrists.

“Now you know why I am here… care to return the favor.” She looked at the motley crew in front of her, “You are not all really the Underdark types. But you look too smart to be just random adventurers blundering into the depths of the Underdark for treasure. Besides, you bested the Morcane, meaning you have some wits about you.” She smiled at her own light jokes.

Mytrym was the first to volunteer. “A drow is collecting items that belong to other races.”

Tanerus frowned, “More specifically, one belonged to me, and I want it back.”

Amador followed it up with a question. “Do you know anything about a drow doing this?”

Naria shook her head, “Sorry, lots of drow collect things, especially powerful things. It could be for any variety of reasons.”

Delorian finally piped in from near the door. “Your path seems to lead into the Underdark further, just like ours. Perhaps it would be best if we traveled together.”

It was Naria’s turn to frown, “I’m not sure that is wise.”

“There is safety in numbers,” pointed out Delorian, “Even down here.”
Pointing at the dead drow around Tanerus observed, “You are obviously not very popular down here or they would not have gone after you like that.”

Naria finally nodded, “Perhaps you are right, we might be able to aid each other.”

Tanerus looked around the room, “What I don’t get is why these drow are here.”

Amador nodded at the supplies, “Obviously holed up after returning from a successful raid on Dagger Falls.” 

Naria shook her head, “No, that doesn’t make sense, this is a smuggler’s hideout. And that,” she pointed at the dead drow priestess, “Is one of the Morcanes.”

Mytrym asked, “That is the second time you have said that, who or what are the Morcane.”

Naria blinked then nodded, “The Morcane are the family in charge of Szith Morcane, a drow outpost near here.”

Looking a bit confused, Amador asked, “An outpost for what?”

Naria shrugged, “Nothing really. Not anymore. It used to a major trade route outpost, now its nothing more than a minor military outpost of a larger city far to the south and east.”

Delorian shrugged, “Sounds like the next logical place to look for this ‘collector’.” Naria stared at him a few moments, as if trying to figure out what a shade was doing with the surface dwellers.

Finally she spoke again, “Besides that… these are not raided supplies from the surface. These are food stores… Rothe sausage, mushroom flower, mushroom ale… like your hard tack, these supplies are the necessity for a drow group fleeing something. There is enough here for almost two weeks.”

Tanerus shook his head, as if trying to clear it. “So you are telling me, some of the Morcane family, a prominent family of drow, has fled their own hold?”

Naria nodded. “Exactly. If you don’t mind, I’ll take that spell component pouch.” She pointed at the corpse of the dead drow mage. The heroes all exchanged wary glances then finally assented. Naria quickly emptied out the only component worth anything to anyone not a spellcaster, “You can have this diamond dust. Its not required for any spell I know and he was your kill.” She handed over a small pouch of crystals. 

The heroes all looked in disbelief at the drow lass. She had just willingly parted with something worth hundreds of gold. Maybe she was not lying about being a follower of Eilistrae after all.

Next she walked to the small lock box. “You don’t mind if I get my things do you?” Without really waiting for a reply she cast a quick arcane spell and then knocked on the lock. With an audible click, the lock opened, as did the lid to the box. Naria lifted out a single bag and left the box, brimming with gold, platinum and silver service set, on the ground. From the bag she pulled a pair of bracers, a headband, and large cloak. She donned the items and nodded, “I’m ready.”

Delorian nodded down at Plickit’s corpse, “Now what about him.”

Tanerus frowned, “Oh, yeah. I think we need to take him back to Randal.”

Amador nodded, “Only thing we can do, really. I don’t have the components to bring him back. I suppose it would be bad manners towards Randal were we to just leave him.”

“So we go back to Dagger Falls then.” Tanerus grabbed up his belongings and what he could carry of the drow’s loot.

Naria looked alarmed, “I think I’ll just wait here for you…”

Mytrym shook his head, “That would be unwise. More could come following these. You would be safer with us.”

“In a human town, I think not. Though… I suppose I could disguise myself.” She sighed, “Fine. I’ll go with you to Dagger Falls.”


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## Wraithdrit (Aug 15, 2003)

*Throne Room, City of Shade
Marpenoth 4, 1372
A Few Hours Before Dawn*

Clariburnus had been waiting for the call from his father since his return three nights prior. When the message finally came it was in the form of a massive crow that landed on the windowsill of his bedroom window. The large bird scanned the room then let out a shrill cry. Clariburnus walked over, knowing the bird was a messenger from someone. When he got close the crow focused on him and spoke aloud, “You presence is requested in the throne room, young prince.” 

Clariburnus was amused to think that the crow was possibly older than him. Perhaps it was not even really a crow. It did not matter. The prince nodded to the bird, “I will be there shortly.” 

He turned to gather his things and was startled when the bird hopped up and down, crying out loudly, “Now!” It shuddered and let out a shrill crow call then leapt up and out the window, flying into the dark night air.

The shadovar prince growled softly. His father was not happy if he was demanding his presence immediately. Clariburnus stopped just long enough to snap his bracers on his forearms and draw his cloak over him. Without further delay he stepped into the closest shadow and stepped out in the inky darkness of the throne room. 

Gone were the usual hangers on and court officials. Gone was the merchant class seeking an audience and the revelers drowning in their own liquid happiness. In their place stood only soldiers, lined up in a long column on either side of the entrance stretching to base of the dais that held the throne. Each soldier was clad in black plate armor, and carried a massive glaive similar to the one Clariburnus preferred. Each stood facing the aisle, their faces covered by the visors of their helmet.

At the base of the dais stood a smug looking Hadrhune. He had his hands clasped behind his back and watched with amusement as the prince took in the situation. Finally the chamberlain spoke. “Good of you to join us, Prince. Please approach the throne.”

Clariburnus strode confidently forward. No matter the consequences, he would meet this challenge with his head held high. There was no dishonor in his actions. He was serving the Empire.

Finally his father spoke from atop the throne, “My son. You have made a terrible mistake.”

Clariburnus could only shake his head, “No father, I did what was needed. Hadrhune’s actions would jeopardize the whole operation. If the heroes of Tethyamar had fallen to our forces-“

The High Prince stood and growled out, “Then they were not the ones meant to take on this task!”

The young prince stammered, “But father, they are the only ones who can… we must-“

High Prince Telemont was in no mood to be argued with. “Do not contradict me!” He stood with a growl and strode down the steps. “You have turned shade on shade to advance your own thoughts on we should handle this.”

“My lord, please. The plan was reckless. Hadrhune could have brought the entire operation I have worked to orchestrate down in one swift action.” Clariburnus did not back away as his father strode ever closer, but he could feel the oppressive weight of his fathers will bearing down on him.

Hadrhune finally spoke, “And who do you think authorized the test of your so called heroes?” 

Clariburnus looked from the Chamberlain to the High Prince, his mouth gaping. 

High Prince Telemont filled in the pieces for him, “I did. Of course. You think I will trust the fate of my empire to some ragtag team of misfits? Just because you call them heroes does not make them so! You directly countered an operation by MY Chamberlain!” The High Prince’s hand rose and the growl from his throat matched the anger on his face. He squeezed his hand into a fist. 

Clariburnus gasped and gripped at his chest even as he fell to his knees. “Father please… I didn’t know…”

Hadrhune shook his head, “Of course you did. I would never take actions against a Prince of Shade without direct permission from your father.” Claribunus knew that was so far from the truth it was laughable, but the crushing pressure on his chest prevented him from really seeing the humor.

Telemont growled, “Give me one good reason why I should not kill you for your impudence. If you were not my son you would already be dead!” He twisted his fist and Claribunus howled in pain, throwing his head back. 

The prince could not move, he felt like his heart was being twisted within his very chest. If it did not burst from the pressure, it would surely be ripped from his chest in front of his own eyes. He his was laid back, tears of pain streaming from his dark eyes. He had only one chance to live through this. “We have … an agent… on the … inside now.”

Telemont’s hand opened, releasing the pressure on Clariburnus. Hadrhune frowned. He had hoped that mention of the shade monk could wait till after Clariburnus was dead. Telemont stepped closer as Clariburnus collapsed to the cold black granite floor. “Continue…” 

Clariburnus’ chest hurt like nothing he had ever felt before. His shadow had retreated within him at the pressure of Telemont’s will. Clariburnus was alone when facing his father, alone against the most powerful being he had ever met. He tried to summon the will to speak, to plead his case. Finally the words came. “My agent. The one that helped stopped Hadrhune’s strike team. He is amongst the heroes. They are starting to trust him. He is with them… with them in the Underdark.”

Telemont spun on Hadrhune. “Is this true?” His eyes burned like black fire as he narrow his gaze on the Chamberlain.

Hadrhune bowed his head, “Yes my lord, it is. The man is a traitor, and an outcast. I personally banished him from the kingdom myself after his betrayal.”

Telemont nodded slowly, “Fitting punishment. Good. He will be desperate to have it reversed then.” He turned back to his son. “Your actions were stupid. But you got lucky. The traitor will not trust any but you I’m sure. So you are once again useful to me. Do not fail me again, my son.”

Clariburnus swallowed away the blood and bile that had risen in his throat. He croaked out painfully, “Yes milord.”

Hadrhune stepped closer to the High Prince, “Perhaps Shar can come up with a suitable punishment for your son, milord.”

Telemont turned toward Hadrhune and frowned, “I know how to punish my own son. You may go, chamberlain.” He turned back to his son, and shook his head. Hadrhune nodded, hiding his disappointment. The chamberlain turned and walked away.

As he neared the door he heard the first of Clariburnus’ renewed screams of pain. Even the heavy black oak doors that closed behind him could not drown out the screams. Hadrhune smiled at the thought of the pain that Clariburnus was going through. It would be a long time before the young prince dared cross him again.

As the pain of his father’s punishment coursed through his body, Clariburnus focused his thoughts and mind on one thing, the revenge he would exact upon the chamberlain one day.


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## sithramir (Aug 18, 2003)

Excellent story hour. I enjoyed it immensely.


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## sithramir (Aug 19, 2003)

I have another question. Is everyone 12th level? I noticed an 8th level shade monk which means he's a 12th level character because shades are +4 level adjustment. 

Just wondering cause I thought they were 10 and you guys might have misunderstood the Forgotten Realms Campaign Setting shade which says CR +2 which is equivalent to Character Level Adjustment +4. IE 1st lvl shade = 5th level character.


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## Wraithdrit (Aug 20, 2003)

I was out of town the last two days, otherwise I would have answered sooner.

First, thanks for your interest in the Story Hour, glad you are enjoying it. I try to update it three times a week, but with trips and such it usually ends up twice a week. We play every other Monday, and I try to make sure everything relating to the former session is completed before we play again.

As for Delorian, the Shade Monk, I let him come in at an ECL of 12, but put him at the experience of a 10th level character. As if he had added the shade template at 8th level, and is still working off the extra xp needed to go to 9th. He is also equipped as an 8th level character (or maybe it was 10th, I need to check that). He has enough xp now to be almost 11th I think, but he is not going to level till his XP is the equivalent of 13th level, bringing him to 9th level monk. 

I knew this would be throwing a 12th level character into a 10th level party, but he also took an XP hit as if he brought in a new character, so in the end he is still 'behind' the only two characters to not have died, or been new addtions etc (bonus points for anyone who can name them, additional bonus points for naming the only 'first session' character still around). 

I also have some really serious In Character balancing means with Delorian, and have kept a serious eye on whether or not the shade powers are abused or overpowering, or what. So far the player has shown fairly good restraint. Example was when they first went to the crypts, the doors were chained from the inside. The party immediately all turned to the shade to have him shadow step through. He made them convince him first IC, and then even looked to me to make sure it was not going to be abusive or anything. I give him a quick nod to show that I appreciated the check and off he went to the other side of the doors.

Where he could do absolutely nothing to break the lock on the chain on the other side. In the end it was returning to get a gem of knock from Drena that allowed the lock to open and the chain to be removed, so it was party teamwork and so forth. I was so proud.  

Anyways... I am hoping for an update today, and Friday, and then again Monday (Game Day! Woot!).

Thanks again for the feedback.
- Wraith


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## Gilgalad (Aug 20, 2003)

*Sithramir*

Actually, you are exactly correct Sithramir.  We knew when we built the character Delorian (forgive the spelling change, I just like the De better than the Da in Delorian) that it fit the game storyline so very well, but that in order to create it I would be suffering horribly due to having so few Monk levels.  As a compromise, the DM (Wraith) agreed to allow me to enter the game with an ECL 12 Shade/Monk (4/8) under the conditions that I would not advance in level or ability until the rest of the party had reached the proper level (12+) and that we would work together to monitor and restrain the use of the Shade abilities so that it did not come across as overpowering or unbalancing.  In addition, we limited my total starting equipment value to that of an 8th level Monk.  Only recently have we discussed increasing my gear to remain consistant with my exp totals, which are tracked just the same as any other players for the sake of telling me exactly where I am vs. where I should be.  At the point where my current exp. matches where I'm supposed to be relative to the party, I'll start advancing once again.

Hope that explains at least a bit of our logic and how we knowlingly twisted the character levels a bit and what we did to try and balance it out for the other party members and encounters.

Give us a yell if you have any other questions.


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## Gilgalad (Aug 20, 2003)

*Dang It !*

The old DM beat me to it by just seconds ! ! ! <lol>


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## sithramir (Aug 20, 2003)

I look forward to the update. 

I've been wanting to play a shade character for a long time but I play a character in a non FR campaign and my campaign is FR but i'm the DM so that kind of doesn't work hehe. I might throw in an NPC for it since we now have a necro who's turned to the "shadow magic" side but I really like the abilities. 

  For +4 its not overlypowerful you just gain lots of options and sacrifice being low lvl in powers. A lot of people see this as bad and it is because you've got to be playing higher levels for your character to enjoy it. I unfortunately have a high level'd game where I can't do it(non FR) and noone else wants to play high lvl's right now sigh. 

  Hmm, any ideas on what I should make my recurring shadovar PC? He'll be the representative that keeps watch over the necromancer and such. I'm looking towards a thief/assassin for him now but would love suggestions.


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## Wraithdrit (Aug 20, 2003)

*Deep Inside the Cormanthor Forest
Marpenoth 2, 1372
A Few Hours Before Dawn*

Telinal Yoonsharal shook his head, “You do not want to make this mistake. Vhaerun is fickle. I do not doubt for a moment whom he will favor in this matter.” The drow bladesinger stood with his arms crossed, watching the younger drow male stalk toward him.

“Shut up! This is all your fault!” The youth’s face was a mask of fury, twisted in anger to a mockery of its normal beauty. Erania T’Val was not about to back down now, not in front of all of these, his peers. Word had reached the youth that his sister, the only female drow that had ever really cared for him, was dead. She had died in fierce fighting in the Underdark. “You convinced the council not to get involved! You! If it weren’t for you-“

“If it was not for me, then any that we had sent to their aid would be dead as well.” As the younger male stalked to within striking distance the bladesinger added softly, “Including you.”

“At least it would have been an honorable death, fighting for our people, not out here hiding in the woods trying to create something that was never meant to be!” Erania was young and only newly added to the ranks of the drow living within Cormanthor. He still held ties to the Underdark that he refused to severe. Ties that were making him more and more unwilling to listen to reason. His mood seemed to match the turmoil beneath the earth. With each new tale from the Underdark, the young drow grew harder and harder to control. “We could have returned below as heroes!”

Telinal had heard enough. He threw his head back and laughed out loud. His face lit up and he slapped his left hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Oh, Erania, that is rich. You should try your hand at the bard’s ways. Drama seems to be in your blood.” 

The younger drow growled and shrugged the hand off. He hissed at the slightly taller drow standing in front of him, “You know nothing of what runs in my blood. You are low born and nothing!” 

“Perhaps below, but here I am respected. You would do well to remember that.” Telinal glanced at the large throng of drow that had gathered to watch the confrontation. Mirroring the make up of the Cormanthor drow at large, most of them were male. The few female drow that watch did so from positions behind the males that owned them.

Erania whirled away muttering, “We shall see…” Telinal frowned, watching as the younger drow planted his foot. The experienced bladesinger knew Erania was turning on him. He was, after all, ‘defenseless’; his sword was tucked away while Erania had his blade out.

As expected Erania spun his blade leveled at Telinal’s neck. To many it seemed that the sword just appeared in the bladesinger’s hand. Others knew that Telinal was just that fast. He shifted to one side, drew his sword and parried the young angry drow’s strike with apparent ease.

The sound of metal clanging on metal echoed through the hollowed trees and cleared ground. A murmuring whisper followed it as the crowd all began whispering to each other, voicing opinions on the matter at hand.

Telinal knew a receptive audience when he saw one. He took a half step back and cocked his head to one side, still watching Erania. “Last chance youngster… drop your blade and I will make your death swift.” He was lying, and Erania knew it. The gauntlet had been thrown, the only thing throwing down his weapon would earn Erania was a longer tortured death in the name of the capricious and cruel god that all of these surface drow worshipped.

Erania lashed out at Telinal with a quick thrust, testing the older drow’s defenses. Telinal did not even bring up his sword. He just leaned to one side and let the blade whiz past his ear. His reply was a swift dance to one side, a spinning slash that drove the younger drow back into a defensive posture. As Telinal danced his free hand wove strange arcane gestures in the air. A magic disk appeared in front of him, and the bladesinger guided its motion to deflect the quick stabs Erania used to try and keep the bladesinger at bay.

Telinal lifted his blade in a mock salute, the blade burst into flames as the drow leapt forward at his backpedaling opponent. Attack after attack, spin after spin, and vault after vault the bladesinger pressed forward. Erania parried wildly backpedaling quickly. Each time the younger drow thought he saw an opening he blade was turned aside by the mystical shield that floated between the combatants. The shield did not seem to impede Telinal’s attacks in the slightest.

Finally Erania ran out of room to back up. His foot scraped a large root and his back landed against the trunk of one of the massive Cormanthor trees as the drow stumbled backward. Telinal paused and smiled at the cornered youngster. His gaze glanced back, at the crowd watching the fight. There still seemed too many that where not sure whom to root for. Telinal decided quickly that he should draw the fight out a bit longer. He made a lunge at the younger drow, giving him ample room to get around him. 

The young drow was skilled enough to see an opening when it was offered and he leapt forward, rolling to his feet on the other side of Telinal. The bladesinger was taking his time turning around so Erania lunged at him, trying to catch him before he could bring his defenses to bear. 

It was another trap. Telinal easily spun from the strike and whirled around to lash downward at the young drow’s exposed weapon arm. The flaming blade left a trail of burning light in an arc behind it, so fast was the attack. The smell of scorched flesh and the scream of the young drow told the few drow that turned from the sight that they were right in averting their gaze. Erania’s sword, still clutched in his hand dropped to the ground. 

Telinal had completed severed the arm at the elbow. Erania fell to his knees clutching the stump of arm.

Telinal muttered another quick enchantment as he stepped forward. His strength boosted he grabbed the younger drow around the neck and hauled him up to hold above him. “Your continued obedience to the ancient ways has grown tiresome. You grow tiresome. Your time here is done. Leave. Now.” He tossed the man back, Erania tried putting his feet down, but his balance was off with his wound and the drow ended up sprawling in the dusty earth. Telinal knew that he had to kill the youngster or face his wrath later. He was counting on the brash youth’s highborn superiority bristling at the order. 

Erania did not disappoint. Letting loose of the stump of his severed arm, the drow drew a dagger with his free hand and lunged at Telinal, screaming out in anger. The bladesinger easily blocked the blow. He let the man go sprawling past him, stumbling to the ground before he struck again. With an easy thrust he stabbed through the back of the drow’s knee into the ground, pinning the youngster to the dirt mercilessly. Erania threw his head back and howled in pain. His hand reached behind his back, trying to grab the blade that pinned him down. His hand closed on the blade before the fire engulfed it again, racing into the back of the drow’s knee, rolling over the hand, burning away flesh in multiple places. 

Telinal grabbed the youth by the hair and pulled his head back. “Impudent whelp. My hand alone allowed you here. You could have been part of something great, not some Matron’s lackey, and this how you repay me?” Telinal twisted the sword, just to drive the point home. 

Drow males of the Underdark grow up under the merciless lash of their matron’s whips. Each is taught at an early age to ignore pain, but the pain was becoming to much for even the likes of Erania to bear. He croaked out, “Just kill me then….”

Telinal shook his head, “You are not good enough to waste the energy on.” He planted a foot in Erania’s back and kicked him prone. Stomping on the back of his thigh, Telinal wrenched the blade free. Erania managed to curl into a semi-fetal position. Telinal shook his head, “Pitiful.” He looked to the closest of his men. “Get rid of this spineless whelp. Stake him for the crows to eat.”

As the bladesinger easily slid his blade back into its sheath he turned to regard those closest him. There seemed to be renewed respect, or fear, Telinal did not care which, in their eyes. 

“Well done Telinal.” The otherworldly woman’s voice that floated to Telinal made him spin quickly, his blade already back in his hand. The drow frowned at the sight of the cloaked figure that walked into the clearing. Several drow stepped into her way. When massive bat wings flipped up to their full wingspan, the drow muttered and backed away. The woman strode into the center of the clearing, placed a hand on the burning blade and gently lowered it, ignoring the flames rippling over her hand. “We should talk.” She lifted her free hand up and pulled her hood back.

Telinal’s frown turned into a smirk, “Well, to what do I owe the honor, Tursa?”


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## Wraithdrit (Aug 20, 2003)

Sithramir,

If a shade were sent to look after or keep up on a newly converted Shadow Magic user, they would have to be thinking of using the necromancer in one of the future plots, or have to be in some other way connected. There are plenty of other shadow magic users that tap into that shadow weave that have nothing to do with the Shadovar.

That being said, a shade watcher could be just about any class. I would tend toward something hardy and sneaky, probably a combination rogue/fighter, or even a ranger. Depending on the level of the NPC and his purpose you can really do just about anything with it. As a shade, he/she can invis at will every other round, so they really don't need to be all that sneaky. And having the ability to solidly thump said necro for being foolish and whether his spells with his SR and good shadovar saves, makes a warrior type seem right the alley. 

Good luck with it!

- Wraith


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## sithramir (Aug 21, 2003)

Ah thats why I was thinking rogue assassin. Having the ability to almost always sneak by continually going invisible is huge. Even a high str fighter can't keep up with 7d6 damage plus the weapon and str and magical properties. Maybe i'll do a ranger type though. The main thing was he was a scout. The whole shadow moving thing makes anyone a scout though but I think of that as a good way for the thief to get away but still be a powerhouse.  

   Yes there are other magic users who use shadow magic and my PC will be one of them. He worships velsharoon or however you spell it and not shar. But they are still looking for allies. The group were critical in the war on Myth Ondarr. It was an elven mythal onslaughted by phaerimm and a few other baddies. They are now hunting down the other baddies but the Shadovar see the whole "my enemies enemy is my friend" and thus want to see if they can make an alliance with my group. 

Thanks for the update. I hope my writing can get good enough to make a story hour. My problem is I live somewhere else in the summer and winter so I can't get long term campaigns going until after may this year. I enjoy living the adventure through your story hour. I definitely love the added background of what is going on away from the PC's. It really is what makes your story hour different and make the world come to life. Its not "the pc's then do this and this" but you have no clue what things happen anywhere else. Good job!


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## Wraithdrit (Aug 22, 2003)

*Dagger Falls
Marpenoth 3, 1372
Late Evening*

Naria paced back and forth in her room. It had been a while since she had been in a human town. It was unsettling feeling, knowing that if anyone detected her presence she would likely be killed on the spot.

The knock on her room’s door sent the drow scrambling for spell components and magic dagger. “Go away!”

Mytrym’s voice came from the other side of the door. “M’lady, its Mytrym. We need to talk. I’m alone.”

Naria relaxed a little bit. She had been expecting Mytrym to come to her eventually. She threw the latch back on the door and stepped to behind it, out of view of the hallway. “Come in.” She had recognized the half drow fairly quickly; even if his blood coursed with something non-human she knew that the blood of her people sped its way through his veins. She had been barely conscious when the heroes had burst into the room. She had heard the call to Eilistraee that had been called out. The only possible source could be the thin plate-wearing warrior she now knew as Mytrym. 

When he stepped into the room Mytrym was still clad in his plate armor. His shield was strapped to his back, and his hand and a half sword was sheathed. “We need to talk, m’lady.”

“Indeed.” She locked the door behind him and turned to regard him closely. “Who… or what are you?”

He did not answer directly. Instead he reached into the neck of his breastplate and pulled a small mithral holy symbol of Eilistraee from within. “I am Mytrym, warrior of the Dark Maiden, pledged to aid those who wish to live above, but are trapped below.” 

Naria nodded and finally understood why she felt so at ease around him. He was not just a follower, but a holy warrior. He was a paladin of Eilistraee. She smiled and stepped closer, “We have much to discuss, m’lord.”

Across town Randal Morn, Tanerus, and Amador regarded the still corpse of Plickit-Ka. Randal shook his head and frowned, “His employers are not going to be very happy about this.” He looked to Amador, “Can you bring him back.”

Amador frowned. It took him a moment to decide whether or not the world would be better off with one less elf eating mantis warrior around. Finally he shrugged away the moral question with a practical problem. “I have not the components. They are expensive.”

Randal nodded, “I understand. What are they? I might be able to help with that.”

Amador paused a moment. If Randal was willing to provide the components then why not leave it in the hands of Corellon. If his god was willing to allow the elf eater to return then there must be some merit in his addition to the group. “Very well. I need five thousand gold pieces worth of diamonds.”

Tanerus let off a low whistle and shook his head. Randall frowned even further, then after pausing a few moments said, “I’ll have it by the morning.” He turned to show the adventurers out, “Just come back here in the morning and I will have things prepared.” 

Tanerus glanced at the wolf like creature that Plickit had called a jackal. “What of that thing?” He nodded at the animal.

Randal shrugged, “I’ll feed it and give a place to sleep till we revive its master.” The animal seemed to sense he was being referred to. It walked over and curled up in front of the couch that they had laid Plickit’s corpse on.

Amador smirked, “I think it found a place to sleep.” The companions took their leave of the Lord of Dagger Falls and were soon back at the inn. Delorian still sat in one corner, watching the tavern-goers, many of who seemed more interested in watching Delorian than eating their evening meals.

Morning came swiftly enough. Naria agreed to meet the others outside town and departed quickly, her disguise back in place. The group returned to Morn’s house and was shown into where Plickit lay. Morn held a bag out to Amador. The priest took it and examined its contents. “Corellon will be pleased with the offering.” He moved around the body, placing the diamonds in a circle around the Thri-kreen ranger. 

Everyone else stood back, watching the process. After chanting for some time in elven, Amador raised his hands and called upon his deity to aid in the return of the group’s newest, and strangest, companion. A warm light filled the room and Plickit slowly sat up, all four hands coming up to rub his head. “What-tck happened-tck?”

Tanerus frowned when he noticed the diamonds had all been replaced with small sprigs greenery. He muttered, “Diamonds for clover… cute.” 

Amador answered, “You died. You remember the drow? The priestess and the wizard with all his lightning bolts?”

Plickit nodded slowly, “Yes. I remember this-tck.” He winced as he tried to move to stand up. “I still hurt-tck.”

Lord Morn stepped forward and handed him a potion. “Here… this should help.” Plickit quickly quaffed the potion. His charred and burned skin and chitin quickly healed and the ranger stood easily.

Everyone in the party looked at Lord Morn. He shrugged and said, “Sorry, only one I had.” 

Quickly the group explained what had happened since Plickit fell. With the ranger briefed they left Dagger Falls, join Naria and returned to the crypts. Having reached a dead end behind the illusionary wall, they proceeded down the main passage. 

Soon they reached a four-way intersection of ancient natural passages. Naria pointed to the east. “That way leads to a fallen dwarven kingdom.”

Mytrym smiled, “Formerly fallen.” When Naria looked confused he held up a hand and whispered, “I’ll explain later.”

The drow seemed satisfied and pointed south, “Szith Morcane is that way.”

Plickit stood from where he had been examining the floor. “Something was dragged that-tck way.” He pointed to the east.

Frowning at the implication Tanerus muttered, “I would rather not have something behind me that is in the habit of dragging things around.”

Everyone quickly and quietly agreed. A plan was quickly reached where Mytrym would play bait. Naria cast an invisibility spell on Plickit, Tanerus and Delorian pulled shadows around their forms and the paladin strode forward. Amador and Naria stayed well back, joined by the now unseen Delorian.

When nothing came from the eastern passage to investigate the noise, Mytrym turned and strode into the cavern that the passage soon opened up into. Tanerus had scouted the cavern and reported that there were piles of gear stacked here and there, but no bodies to go with the gear. He also thought he heard chewing.

Mytrym strode into the large chamber. A small alcove bent around one corner, and he slowly crept toward it, shield up, sword in hand. When he reached the corner he heard nothing and saw nothing. The alcove was empty. The paladin put his back to the wall and glanced down at the ground. He bent to examine closer, trying to pay attention to his surroundings. Tracks of slight moisture were quickly fading from the rock. Something had just walked through here. Something not human. Its feet were pawed, but it walked with the weight of a huge biped.

Mytrym began to follow the tracks. He was halfway across the room when a massive form appeared in the corner. It was a gnoll of some significant size. Its hand was outstretched, pointing at Mytrym.

A globe of light appeared on either side of the paladin and solidified into the shape of twin ghouls. Mytrym led out a startled cry and the fight was on. The ghouls lurched forward, but the paladin easily threw one aside with his shield and backed the other off with a swing of his now glowing sword. 

The creature in the corner cackled with an unearthly laugh and danced in place, watching the ghouls try to corner the sole visible party member. Mytrym had other ideas. He held his sword out and shouted at the creatures, “Eilistraee demands that you BE GONE!” Both of the ghouls disintegrated into dust in the light that rippled forth from the sword.

With a howl of anger the gnoll-creature threw its hands out at Mytrym again. Blackish energy rippled forth and swirled around the paladin. The energy formed bonds that tightened around the paladin. With a single grunt the paladin forced his will out, smashing through the dark tendrils, shrugging off the magic with ease. 

Delorian appeared from the shadows and rolled into corner the creature in the corner of the cavern. He came up from the roll and leveled a fist at the creature. The thing did not even try to move. All the better, thought the monk. His fist slammed into the gnolls muzzled with a blow hard enough to smash bone and fur into pulp. The creature seem unfazed by the blow, its muzzle seemed completely unhurt. 

Shadows rippled around one cavern wall as Tanerus maintained his hidden position despite the firing of his crossbow. The bolt ripped across the cavern and thunked into the creature’s hide. But rather than imbed deep into the creature, the bolt barely penetrated, despite the fact that Tanerus had aimed the shot for the creatures vitals.

Mytrym strode forward, joining Delorian in the corner, pressing the attack on the creature. He swung his magic blade and slashed easily into the creature’s side. The blade slid off its hide, doing no damage to the cackling fiend. Mytrym growled, “We can’t hurt it!” 

Naria and Amador advanced into the room. The cleric quickly dropped into a prayer, grabbing his holy symbol. The room reeked of death; perhaps the creature was undead like the ghouls it summoned. Amador called for the creature’s destruction. Energy flowed from the cleric washing over the entire room.

Naria let fly a barrage of magic missiles. The small globes of energy blasted into the creature, leaving little scorch marks. The creature howled in pain at the magic missiles. As the glow of Amador’s turning washed over it, the creature began backing into the corner, holding it arms up to protect itself. The turn was working.

Mytrym and Delorian relaxed slightly. The paladin lifted his blade to try and strike the creature down. As he did, he saw that the creature was starting to lower its arms. It was laughing at them.

“Fools! You cannot hurt me! I will devour you all!” It cackled loudly and lunged at Mytrym.

The paladin responded by calling on Eilistraee’s aid. His sword glowed brighter once more and as he slashed at the lunging creature the blade actually cut the beast, ever so slightly. The minor wound just seemed to amuse the creature that much more.

Plickit appeared a single cold-iron throwing wedge in his hand. He threw it, sending the wedge spinning end over end at the creature. It too was ineffect, bouncing off the nasty fiend’s hide. Delorian landed ineffective blow after ineffective blow off the creature, as it scrambled against Mytrym’s shield. The paladin was barely keeping it off of him.

Amador frowned and called on his god once more, “Smite this foul beast, so that we might continue our quest, my lord.” The prayer ended he clapped his hands together. An explosion of light filled the corner. Delorian cried out in surprise and pain, but the creature howled as the light cut deep furrows along its hide. 

When the light faded the creature was wounded but still standing. It looked past Mytrym to the priest and growled, “For that insolence, you die priest!” It strode forward, shrugging off the blows that Delorian and Mytrym rained on its back. Their weapons just were not hurting it. 

Tanerus pulled out the wand that the drow priestess had used repeatedly. He quickly mimicked the motions she had made and the wand sprout a searing ray of light, splashing over the creature’s side. The light just seemed to pour of its hide. It too was ineffective.

Amador back peddled as the creature lurched forward at him. The holy smite had been very effective against the creature. It had howled out in pain, and large burns showed the remnants of the smite’s effect. Recognition flashed in the priest’s eyes. Only one kind of creature would be that hurt by a holy smite. Only an evil outsider would be so pained by the smite’s blast. It had to be the answer. The creature was something conjured up from the lower planes. 

It was time to send it back. Amador leveled his holy symbol and began and new prayer. The enraged creature took a swing at the priest, but he was light on his feet, dodging out of the way. Finally Amador’s words echoed through the chamber. “… and by his holy power, I send you back from where you came!” A rift in the reality of the cavern opened beneath the outsider’s feet. 

Shocked at the feeling of hands grabbing his ankles, the creature looked down and saw the rift. “No!” it screamed, lunging forward. It fell to the stone floor, clawing at the rocks and dirt as the many hands of the creatures of the underworld reeled it slowly into the mystical rift. With a flash of reddish light and a puff of sulfurous smoke the rift closed and the room was eerily silent save the harsh breathing of the Heroes of Tethyamar.


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## Wraithdrit (Aug 25, 2003)

*Manor of Randal Morn, Dagger Falls
Marpenoth 4, 1372
Late Afternoon*

Randal sighed as he closed the door for the final time of the night. He was glad the long day of seeing to the town’s problems was finally at an end. He thought of a few diversions he could lose himself in while trying to forget the pressures of being the Lord of Dagger Falls. He had worked so hard to reclaim the town from the Zhentarim, yet there was not a day that went by where he did not miss the life he had once had. It had been hard, living in exile, but it had its own rewards. While everyone looked to him then to return Dagger Falls to its rightful owners, the responsibility then seemed much less than what he had to face now on a daily basis.

Walking over to his desk he dropped down and sighed out softly.

“Long day, m’lord?” The voice was silky smooth, slipping from the shadows near the door.

Morn reacted in a flash. His sword was out and a throwing knife was in his off hand, ready to throw into the shadows. The figure stepped into the light. It was not a shadow this time, not in the sense he feared. Ever since the shadovar had invaded the privacy of his home he jumped at every small noise. He never knew when another would come. “M’lady… you should NOT skulk around so, its hazard to your health.” 

The young beauty shook her head, the mirth at his jumpiness apparent. “I fear not for my own safety, Lord Morn. And it would not be prudent for anyone to see me come and go from your manor.”

Morn nodded as he returned the weapons to their sheaths. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“I received word that the help I sent you was gravely wounded.”

Morn nodded, “Aye. He was killed in fact… but the elven priest is most powerful and was able to return his spirit to his body. The cost was very high, but I knew you would prefer that to the alternative.” The lord dropped back into his seat and sighed gently.

She nodded slowly, “You have our thanks. He is unique…”

“You can say that again.” Morn was obviously not very happy with the choice of aid that he had been provided.

The young woman chuckled a little, “But effective.” She strode over to the chair opposite his and sat down. Her soft leather boots propped on the edge of the desk, crossed at the ankles. “We had very short notice, and given our limited, stretched resources… we felt this a perfect task for Plickit. Afterall, there is not a lot of negotiating with the drow.”

“So you sent your best elf killer? You know what people would do if they knew that I had not only sanctioned that thing being in the city, but helped to breath life back into it?”

“Beggars can not be choosers, Lord Morn. But I will make sure the cost of our aid is not too high.” She fished a few small paper bundles from her largest belt pouch and set them onto the table. 

Morn reached over and unwrapped the gems. He recognized them as diamonds and nodded his thanks. “These should be enough to cover what he cost us.”

“We are awaiting word from many of our different contacts as to what the nature of this is. We suspect this is more than just a new tunnel by which the drow are renewing age-old rivalries. Something else is surely afoot.”

Morn nodded, “The Zhentarim, the drow, and now the Shadovar. Something is stirring the pot. We need to find out what.”

The young woman paused for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to add to the discussion. “There is more…”

With a frown Morn leaned heavily back in his chair. “Oh?”

Leaning forward she nodded, “We intercepted a Zhentarim agent west of Hillsfar. He was bringing news of the fighting near Tethyamar. He had been working that route for a while. He had some very enlightening information about when the Zhentarim first took Tethyamar. The ancient dwarven traps had more than just a bunch of tieflings and fiend-bloods.”

Morn’s frown turned into a downright scowl. “What?”

“The first group of Zhentarim sent into the mines… never returned. According to the reports they were wiped out to a man when they accidentally released some sort of ancient evil. It is suspected it was a pureblood.” 

Morn shook his head, “And where is it now?”

She shrugged, “We don’t know… the Zhents think whatever it was left the mines after it was freed and took out its anger on the Zhents that accidentally freed it.” Her voice trailed off. She knew more than she was telling.

“And?” Morn nervously tapped the edge of his desk with one finger.

“Evidence pointed toward it fleeing into the Underdark.” She frowned gently. “That was a month and a half before the drow first raided Dagger Falls.”


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## Nightingale 7 (Aug 27, 2003)

Wraithdrit I am new to these boards,but I want to congratulate you on this very well written storyhour and the beautiful way that you have intertwined the City of the Spider Queen module with the Shadovar and those Tieflings.Though I admit I am a little baffled as to who is a PC and who an NPC in your story hour.
In the beginning you had Durgaden,Tanerus,Amador and Will.After Durgaden's death D's player built Delorian,the Shade monk.After Will's retirement which character did Will's character build?The Rashemi witch?What about Navar?Plickit?Mytrym?What about that drow sorceress your party saved?(Though if memory serves well she is an NPC from the module).It would be great if you could post character sheets for PCs and NPCs separately in your site.Ilove reading other people's character builds


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## Wraithdrit (Aug 27, 2003)

Nightingale 7 said:
			
		

> Wraithdrit I am new to these boards,but I want to congratulate you on this very well written storyhour and the beautiful way that you have intertwined the City of the Spider Queen module with the Shadovar and those Tieflings.




Thank you much! I normally stay FAR away from published adventures. This time I decided to give it a go, but could not leave well enough alone. I also knew if I threw 4 complete strangers into this thing they would come out the other end as hamburger, so I figured I better give em some adventuring time before hand to gel as a group. So I came up with this prologue. Its actually been a very organic process where things and come together really well, though not without a few sessions of me banging my head on a wall to try and pull various pieces together. But then, thats why I love writing and DMing (my two passions).



			
				Nightingale 7 said:
			
		

> Though I admit I am a little baffled as to who is a PC and who an NPC in your story hour.




Good! I wanted this story hour to read like a novel more than a log of a game. Sure, it IS a game log, but I wanted to blur the lines and make people identify with more than the core group. Plus it gave me the chance to let my players live in a world where things happen outside of their adventure and they get to know about it out of character, but then play only what they know.



			
				Nightingale 7 said:
			
		

> In the beginning you had Durgaden,Tanerus,Amador and Will.After Durgaden's death D's player built Delorian,the Shade monk.After Will's retirement which character did Will's character build?The Rashemi witch?What about Navar?Plickit?Mytrym?What about that drow sorceress your party saved?(Though if memory serves well she is an NPC from the module).It would be great if you could post character sheets for PCs and NPCs separately in your site.Ilove reading other people's character builds




I don't keep my player's character sheets, thus I don't post them, but I might in the future. The timeline went like this.

Will's player had to bow out just after Durgaden and Mytrym's death due to work reasons. We are hoping he can rejoin in November.

Mytrym was a fifth player we added since we had some trouble keeping all four players around all the time.

Drena was the first character of the person who took Will's player's slot. Navarr was an NPC (not a cohort) that was attached to Drena. It was failed NPC in my opinion. He was regularly useless in combat and I just never really got into playing him.

Around the same time Navarr was slain, we switched to 3.5. Drena's player was pretty torced about the changes to Spell Focus, and to many favorite spells, so took me up on a blanket offer to all players to be able to bring in new characters at that point with no penalty since there were some major rules changes in 3.5. I didn't want anyone STUCK with a character they did not like anymore.

Naria is NOT in the module. She is actually Mytrym's cohort. He had Leadership the whole time, but I was waiting for a good opportunity to bring in another follower of Eilistrae.

You will find as we go forward that MANY things in the module are going to be very different from how it was published. Since I began by weaving in the outside stories of the Zhentarim and the Shadovar and the Demonbloods, I can't help but continue to lace them through. Plus it gives me ample opportunity to cut out the parts of the module that I just scratched my head at.   

Thanks for the compliments and I hope you continue to enjoy the read. Expect an update sometime today. Monday night's game was nonstop action!


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## Nightingale 7 (Aug 27, 2003)

So,if I got it right the five players now are Delorian,Mytrym,Amador,Tanerus and Plickit-Ka,correct?
So the only arcane spellcaster in the group is a drow sorceress cohort?
That is going to prove problematic in the future,since your groups spellcasting ability is pretty limited.Anyway,continue the good job.


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## Wraithdrit (Aug 27, 2003)

That is correct, and yes, they are going to have problems in the arcane area. I warned them up front that a balanced party would be best. There is always the return of Will's player in November to look forward to... 

Thats only 5 or 6 sessions more without a full fledged mage.   Also, Naria is going to be tailoring her spells to help more, but she is definately more a crafter than a nuker (especially since she is only 6th level - 8th ECL).


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## Wraithdrit (Aug 28, 2003)

“Prove yourself willing and able and I will grant you the power to see in darkness,” hissed Tanerus’ shadow. “Won’t that be nice? No more stupid little lantern.”

Tanerus growled over his shoulder as he shone his light around the small natural passage he was creeping along. “Shut up shadow… someone might hear us.”

As if to punctuate the halfling’s words the hiss of a pair of projectiles whizzing past interrupted the fledgling argument. Tanerus hunkered to one side, trying to be smaller. Behind him, Plickit slipped back into the corridor leading toward the eater of the dead’s room. 

The thri-kreen heard a muffled thump and peeked around the corner just enough to see that Tanerus was slumped on the ground, a single bolt protruding from his shoulder. His face was a mask of peaceful slumber. The ranger quickly waved the rest of the group back from the corner and kept watch of the slumbering halfling’s form.

It was only a few moments later that a massive eight legged monstrosity crept into the edge of the thri-kreen’s vision. Behind the mantis warrior Mytrym saw that each of his four arms were pulling forth the weird throwing wedges that Plickit used so efficiently. For a moment the aasimar paladin wondered how many of those things Plickit actually carried. 

From behind them Delorian hissed, “What’s the hold up?” 

Mytrym shrugged and pointed at Plickit’s back. The antenna atop the thri-kreen’s head rotated back as if to listen for more whispers from the party. Suddenly the ranger was on the move.

Plickit leaned out when the spider got to just over the halfling’s sleeping form. As he launched wedge after wedge he noted with curiosity that the spider had no eyes. Where they once were, nothing but inky blackness remained. The spider lurched as the first wedge plunged into one leg. It reared up, catching each of the remaining seven wedges in its thin lower thorax. The lurching form fell backwards and let out a hissing sigh as its eight legs curled up and twitch slightly. 

Plickit frowned. It had taken all eight wedges to kill it. He should have been able to kill it with only four. The beast was far too resilient for just a large spider. He suspected necromancy at work. It had been an undead spider. His thoughts were interrupted when arrows from down the corridor whipped past him, skittering off the walls of the natural passage. Plickit ducked back quickly, he could not even see who was shooting. 

Mytrym stepped up to replace the ranger. He already had his bow out. An arrow glowed brightly with a light spell. Raising the bow he fired, ignoring the arrows that clattered off the wall near him. Amador slid across the opening to the opposite wall of the four way intersection. He began returning fire down the corridor as well, covering the paladin’s shot. 

The light arrow whipped down the corridor, lighting it as it went along. Finally it flew threw an opening, revealing a single drow pulling back from the light momentarily. As the arrow clattered of the back wall, casting light in the large room on the other side of the opening, it silhouetted the form of the lone drow that began to once again fire arrow after arrow down the corridor. 

Mytrym muttered, “One drow?” He raised his bow, another arrow nocked. As he released the arrow down the corridor he growled, “He can’t be alone.”

While Mytrym was recovering from releasing the bowstring the air in front of him shimmered and a thin blade lashed out from the shimmer, followed by a dark skinned hand, chainmail arm, and finally the full form of a crouching drow warrior. The blade stabbed through the paladin’s plate armor once, twice, then a third time. Mytrym stumbled back and tossed the bow aside, ripping his sword out of his scabbard. 

The drow pressed the advantage staying on the paladin. But Mytrym was not alone. A dark form rolled past his opponent and Delorian came up swinging. The drow stumbled as the shade’s knee smashed into his back. But the Underdark warrior was not ready to go down. After all, the archer was still supporting him.

As if on cue the arrows stopped a moment and everything in the air turned inky dark. Shadows covered everything, making it hard for those unable to see in the dark to make out exactly what was going on. Unfortunately for the drow, no one left standing fit in that category. Only the gently sleep halfling could not see in the shadowy darkness the drow could naturally conjure. 

The drow swordsman shifted his stance, turning and lashing out ineffectively at the shade that ambushed him. He started to fight a retreat when a form lashed out of the darkness. It was four armed mantis warrior. The drow’s shock did not last long. He fell dead with several of Plickit’s weapons bristling from his chest. 

Delorian turned and bolted down the corridor. His long strides chewed up the distance between him and the archer in no time at all. The archer backed around the corner as he saw the monk coming. Delorian burst into the room to see the warrior fleeing down a wide shaft. Without hesitating Delorian dived down after him. He caught up with the warrior as he picked his way down a sloping corridor. The natural cavern and slope made movement difficult, but it did not seem to hinder Delorian too badly. 

The fleeing archer glanced back to see where the monk was, and when he saw the fist raising to hit him he turned back and yelled something down the corridor. It echoed over into the distance. Delorian growled in anger, and slammed his fist into the back of the fleeing archers head. The archer stumbled but kept running. Delorian never let up. Another couple of steps and he lashed out again. Again he hit the drow in the base of the head. Again the drow called something out down the corridor and stumbled. The monk was getting angry, each of the blows had been designed to stop the archer in his tracks. It was not a particularly crippling strike, but it would certainly ring someone’s bell enough to be able to subdue them.

“Fine!” growled the monk. “Have it your way!” He leapt up, kicked off one wall and leveled the archer with a kick to the side of the head. As Delorian landed he thought to himself, if that doesn’t stun him, I don’t know what will.

He landed in a fighting stance, staring down the corridor as the drow crumpled to ground. No one was coming, so he glanced down at his ‘prisoner’. The drow’s head was cocked to one side at a bad angle and his eyes stared openly up at his assailant. Delorian shrugged and jogged away down the corridor. As he did he pulled a shadow off the wall and disappeared from sight.


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## Nightingale 7 (Aug 29, 2003)

Your story continuous to be great Wraithdrit.Does Plickit only use Chatkchas?I guess he went the archery path of Ranger.
A shame,since I was looking forward to seeing him multi-wielding two Gythkas.About Tanerus,is he slowly aquiring the shadow walker template,or is it another way to introduce Shadowdancer levels?I guess he is not becoming shade,so it must be one of the other two.


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## Wraithdrit (Aug 29, 2003)

Nightingale 7 said:
			
		

> Your story continuous to be great Wraithdrit.Does Plickit only use Chatkchas?I guess he went the archery path of Ranger.
> A shame,since I was looking forward to seeing him multi-wielding two Gythkas.




Actually he went two weapon fighting, which applies to thrown weapons as well. Err, multiweapon actually, I allowed direct substitution given the arms and all. As for melee, well he does not have the con or the str to stand up to much in his opinion, so he is looking at picking up Finesse at some point and putting a bunch of shortswords to work. I too want to see him use Gythkas, but so far he has not seemed interested in them at all.



			
				nightingale 7 said:
			
		

> About Tanerus,is he slowly aquiring the shadow walker template,or is it another way to introduce Shadowdancer levels?I guess he is not becoming shade,so it must be one of the other two.




I do not do prestige classes lightly, so when he told me he wanted to go Shadowdancer I worked it into the plot. I see no reason a normal thief, err rogue, could just get these supernatural powers, so I worked it into the plot.   

I'm not at work today, so don't expect to do an update. So look for one Wednesday (as Monday is also a holiday), or maybe Tuesday if the writing bug catches up to me.   

Now if I would only hear back about the Maiden of Pain...


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## Wraithdrit (Sep 2, 2003)

Mytrym was the first to follow Delorian into the sloping shaft that led further into the Underdark. Amador had stopped long enough to revive Tanerus and the group had quickly followed after the monk. It did not take them long to find the crumpled form of the sentry that Delorian had been chasing. The drow was obviously dead, and Mytrym moved forward quietly to try and find where Delorian had gone. 

The natural corridor ended in a soled flat granite wall, obviously man made. In front of the wall was another large shaft. Before the shaft a large iron ring was set into the stone. 

Tanerus examined the ring and nodded back at the others as he found a good place to hide. 

Not trapped, Mytrym heard the halfling say to him telepathically. Mytrym nodded and looked back as Naria put a hand on his shoulder. She talked in a low voice, "I can cast a spell to see down there, but my darkvision will do no good." She handed him the arrow with the light spell cast on it. The paladin nodded and as Naria cast he dropped the arrow down the shaft.

As the light flashed for a moment Mytrym saw Delorian crouched beside the shaft. The monk was pulling aside his blanket of shadow for a moment, just long enough so that the others would see him and know he was still with them. Mytrym nodded to the monk and turned to await word from Naria. 

It was Tanerus' voice that brought the news. He reported to each of the members in turn, using his telepathy, "Naria says that there are three drow, a spider, and... a skinned drow."

Mytrym thought back quickly, "Skinned? What do you mean?"

Tanerus shrugged and looked to Naria a moment. "Skinned. Lacking skin. Probably some sort of undead."

Mytrym frowned and pulled out a pair of potions. He quickly guzzled one after the other. He also heard the soft voice of Naria's spellcasting behind him. Her hand laid upon his shoulder again, this time, sending energy into his muscles, reducing some of the soreness and fatigue that they contained. He felt invigorated, like he could fight for hours. The haste potion sped his perceptions, and he felt his movements quicken. One last spell of his own, to ward against evil, and the paladin moved to the edge. He looked to Naria and nodded.

The mage stepped up, whispered a few soft words and threw her hands toward the shaft. A pea shaped ball of fire slipped from between her hands, tumbled down the shaft and blossemed into a massive fireball. Below, screams of suprise and outrage sounded.

Mytrym wasted no time. He lept from the edge, plunging toward the light arrow twenty feet below. The fly potion worked well and he swooped down and banked hard toward the waiting barricade.

The drow seemed to be waiting, but were caught a bit off guard by the flying paladin. His sword was already arcing toward the disgusting visage of the skinned drow. The horror was exactly what Naria had described. It looked as if a drow had every bit of flesh and fat removed from its body, leaving behind the oozing bloody muscle and cartilage. Whatever it was, it would soon feel the bite of his blade. The blade came to life as he swung it, muttering to his goddess to strength his strike. Light flashed as his prayer was answered and the blade slammed into the abomination before him. The blade cut deep, but the creature seemed to not even notice. Already its clawed hands were clawing at his armor. 

Behind the abomination, behind a large barrier of a table and chairs that had obviously been recently turned over for defense, stood three drow. The spider that Naria had seen was dead by the fireball. Two were dressed just like the sentries, they had already, faced. The last wore only a tabard. As Mytrym flew in, this drow lifted his hands and cast a quick arcane spell. Each of Mytrym's enchantments were torn at by the power of the drow's dispel, but amazingly most of them withstood the attempt and destruction. Of all the preperation spells cast upon him, only his protection from evil spell fell under the dispel's assault.

The disgusting skinned drow finally found purchase with her claws, raking between two plates of Mytrym's armor. The claws bit deep, but the acid dripping from them added insult to injury, burning even after the claws were torn loose when Mytrym slammed his shield into the creature, knocking her back. Mytrym could tell by the creature's high pitched howls that in life this thing had been female.

Delorian and Tanerus both lept down the shaft. The monk was hidden in shadow, and the halfling pulled shadows around him upon landing. Mytrym still seemed alone. 

One of the sentries moved to edge of the barrier and lifted a large polearm. He stabbed over the shoulder of the creature trying to get at Mytrym, but his blows were ineffective against the paladin's armor. 

The second sentry moved to the back of the room. Where a wall should have been lay a massive chasm. The sentry moved to the chasm edge and called down into the darkness the same word, several times. Those in the party that spoke elven, easily understood the word. "Alert!"

Plickit dropped in next, moving to one side to hide from the site of the spellguard. All four arms pulled chatkas from his bandoleers. He edged toward the corner, waiting for the right moment.

Mytrym shoved the nasty bleeding thing from atop of him with his shield. He thrust his sword out at the thing and called upon his goddess, "By the Eilistraee, be gone abomination!" The thing spat its disgust at him. Literally. It pull its head back and spat forth a nasty ball of acid. Mytrym managed to shift to the side, and the glob splashed behind him. 

Tanerus was waiting for an opening when the glob of acid slammed into his flank. It burned a nasty hole through him. He cried out and threw back his cloak just as a storm of ice exploded in the area. Behind the barrier, the spellguard lowered his hands and chuckled as his ice storm pummelled the small party in front of him.

Above, Naria saw the ice storm and quickly muttered a few syllables. The storm dissappeared quickly. The damage the ice had caused would not go away, but at least by dispelling the storm she allowed Amador to leap down into the shaft.

The priest landed and came up swiftly. His holy symbol was out and he yelled at the bloody ex-drow. "Be gone hellspawn!" The creature was thrown back by the power of the priest's will. It stumbled back and hissed at him from the other side of Mytrym. The paladin pressed the advantage and hacked into the beast again.

Delorian was still unseen by the enemy. He flipped easily over the barrier and spun around behind the spellguard. His fist lashed out at the back of the spellguard's head. Flames ripped up around his hand as he connected, but his natural resistance to magic spared him harm. The blow managed to make the spellguard stumble, but it was obvious it had not hurt him at all. The drow's skin was as hard as rock, obviously he had serious protection magics up.

When Plickit heard the spellguard get attacked he knew his moment was at hand. He spun the corner and all four arms flipped chatkas quickly at the mage. Eight throwing wedges slammed into the drow. His body jerked back and forth, each wedge barely cutting through his enchantments. If it had been one or two, the mage would have barely felt it. But a little bit of damage from eight different attacks was enough to stagger him. He turned and fled toward the chasm, throwing himself over the side.

Delorian turned to give chase, but the sentries were on him, their weapons lashing out at the monk.

Mytrym took a step or two after the fleeing undead, until he saw that there were still combatants up on the landing. He turned on the drow that had stopped Delorian in his tracks and the two heroes quickly cut down the pair of sentries.

Together Delorian and Mytrym moved to the edge of the chasm. Though the undead drow was no where to be seen, they could see the spellguard some forty feet below, dangling from a massive web. The two heroes nodded to each other and leapt over the edge of the chasm!


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## Wraithdrit (Sep 4, 2003)

*Common Area
Halls of Tethyamar
Marpenoth 4th, 1372, Just before dusk*

Will checked the straps on his pack. Everything was in place. He turned and looked over at Serin. “You ready?”

The archer paled a little and gulped. “You know I hate teleportation.” She walked closer. “I wish you had never told me that it could go wrong. I liked being blissfully ignorant.”

Will grinned, “If you did not know how dangerous it was, you wouldn’t get nearly the rush you do out of it. Admit it, you like teleporting, its just the sort of risk you like to take.”

She smacked him in the chest with the back of her hand. “No! Fighting orcs is the sort of risk I like to take. Being melded into solid stone because you can’t remember what your home looks like, that’s madness. Why did I agree to come with you again?”

“Because you miss your family as much as I do?”

“It’s only been a few days.” She crossed her arms in defiance.

“A few days living in these halls with only me and the dwarves for company,” Will corrected.

It was Serin’s turn to grin, “The dwarves aren’t so bad…” She laughed at the mock look of anger that Will flashed at her. When his incantation started though, she frowned and grabbed a hold of his belt as he had instructed her.

The world turned inside out. That or the two friends teleporting back to Dagger Falls did. Either way the result was the same. They popped into existence in Will’s home. Will merely blinked a few moments till he got his bearings. 

Serin crumpled to the floor and puked.

*Courtyard of the 12th Legion Barracks
Zhentil Keep
Marpenoth 4th, 1372, Dusk*

Alethra stalked back and forth, the Banesword gripped in her hand. As she strode along she spun the magical blade in her hand, letting it spin several times before tightening her grip again. The force in front of her was starting to form up nicely. She stopped in front of a huge brutish ogre wearing a massive suit of chainmail.

“Terog. You know the plan?” The priestess’ gaze burned into the ogre. Even though the monster was twice her height and many times her weight, it cowered beneath her gaze.

“Aye, muh’lady.” It pulled its helmet tighter in place and made sure it had a good grip on its battle axe.

Alethra nodded quickly and turned to look at the rest of the force. Seeing that most everything was in order she barked an order to the small group of mages gathered at one end of the courtyard. “Lets get on with it!”

The mages jumped to motion and began moving down the line. Each had a wand in its hand. Soon the courtyard appeared empty, but the sounds of shifting warriors and the murmur of the men was enough to make it obvious that the courtyard was anything but empty.

Alethra glanced at the force’s commander, “Everything is ready sir.”

Commander Gering Thorn nodded. “Good. Lets get back your temple, Priestess.” He turned to look behind him. “Ready Xilla?” The creature floating behind him turned its large form toward the commander, its main central eye was closed. The rest of its eyestalks looked at the commander.

The beholder seemed to bob up and down as if nodding. “Of course, Commander. Let us proceed.” They both glanced at Alethra.

The priestess nodded and strode toward a scaffold in the center of the center of the courtyard. It was identical to a scaffold in the center of the common area in the Mines of Tethyamar. She took the steps two at a time till she was atop the scaffold. A mage fell into place behind her. As she muttered a short key phrase the mage waved his wand at her and muttered its command word.

As the priestess disappeared from sight a massive blue shimmering disk appeared on both scaffolds. 

Commander Gering drew his sword, pointed at the scaffold stairs and yelled, “For the Bane and the Black Network! Charge!” The noise of the troops yelling in unison and racing through the portal was near deafening.

*Common Area
Halls of Tethyamar
Marpenoth 4th, 1372, Dusk*

The dwarf called Ungul the Ugly was sitting in the common area sipping on a mug of ale. He sighed and stood up as he finished the drink. It had been a long day working in the mines, but it had been a fruitful one.

When the massive blue disk appeared atop the scaffold Ungul gasped and dropped his mug. He turned to yell down the closest hall even as he drew his short sword from his side. He had no armor on, but Ungul never went anywhere without his sword.

“Hey! Get in here! There’s somethin’…” Ten crossbow bolts whipped forth from thin air. Five buried in the dwarf’s back and he fell forward to his knees. His shout became a whisper. “… going on.” He fell forward dead. 

*Common Area
Halls of Tethyamar
Marpenoth 4th, 1372, Just after dusk*

Commander Gering, High Priestess Alethra, and the Beholder Xilla stood in the common area and received report after report from runners. Xilla had made a sweep of several of the chambers when he was needed. Finally the command group met back near the portal. 

Xilla dropped a dwarven head to a table top. He had ‘held’ it in the grasp of his telekinetic eye ray. “A present for you Alethra.” 

The priestess looked down and frowned. “This is not him.” She poked the head with the tip of her blade. The decapitated form rolled face up and the Crown of Tethyamar clanked to the tabletop. “He was much younger than this one. And where are the halfling, the human, and the elf?”

Gering frowned as he turned away from another runner. “Gone. Nothing but dwarves. We have a few prisoners though… we will know soon enough where these ‘heroes’ have fled to. Don’t worry.”


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## iwatt (Sep 5, 2003)

This is good stuff Wraith. Keep it up. 

One question though, when Will's player returns, is his character going to come in with lower levels, or are you gonna bump him up a little?

Also, I mentioned this before, but I'm gonna say it again: I love the personal flavor you put into spells (Banite healing hurts, Teleportation disorients, etsc..). By the way, what effect does the nausea actually have (i.e nauseated for x rounds, unless Fort save Y?), or is this just flavor. I'd go for actual effects in orer to avoid the Scry-teleport=Swat Team breach.

That's all.


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## Wraithdrit (Sep 6, 2003)

iwatt said:
			
		

> This is good stuff Wraith. Keep it up.




*blush* Thanks. Encouragement is ALWAYS welcome. It keeps me... encouraged? Especially after as angry as players get when you throw them a curveball like this one!



			
				iwatt said:
			
		

> One question though, when Will's player returns, is his character going to come in with lower levels, or are you gonna bump him up a little?




Well, I am approaching it as if he was bringing a new character into the game. He will come in equal in level to the lowest level party member. While I do not give XP for missing sessions, bringing a ninth level PC into a group that will (by November) be probably 11th and 12th would be just foolish. So while it will be Will, it will be a 'new' Will (converted to 3.5 and pumped a little in level).



			
				iwatt said:
			
		

> Also, I mentioned this before, but I'm gonna say it again: I love the personal flavor you put into spells (Banite healing hurts, Teleportation disorients, etsc..). By the way, what effect does the nausea actually have (i.e nauseated for x rounds, unless Fort save Y?), or is this just flavor. I'd go for actual effects in orer to avoid the Scry-teleport=Swat Team breach.




Thanks again. Actually most I go pretty by the book when it comes to most rules. The Teleportation sickness thing is just flavor text at this point. It makes good sense though, so might be something I eventually add. 

Right now I'm just worried about the party surviving on one hand, and how I am going to stat out the Book of Eternal Flames. We had a way we did it prior to Will leaving, but with the 3.5 Metamagic Rods I may go a different route with it. Still haven't decided.

There is at least one more update between now and Monday (Game night! Woo Hoo!).

Also, I'm considering doing some just straight fiction (FR and some of my own fantasy). Anyone be interested in reading it?

- Wraith


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## Wraithdrit (Sep 8, 2003)

*Underdark
South of Dagger Falls and About 200 feet down
Marpenoth 4, 1372, Early Evening*

Tanerus bolted to the edge of the chasm and stared down at his companions as they rocketed down the chasm. Mytrym was flying arcing around and through the massive webs at the dangling mage. Delorian seemed to be just free falling. 

Delorian lashed out with out hand some ten feet above the spellguard. He snatched the ladder like web and slid down at the spellguard, feet first. Mytrym was faster though, his shining blade arcing through the darkness. He cut deep into the spellguard impaling him into the thick web. Delorians feet smashed down on the mage's head and he went limp under the twin assaults. 

From above Tanerus shouted down, "Look out!" Arrows started to whip past the two heroes as they grabbed the mage's form and began to haul him up. Mytrym grabbed the unconscious drow and threw him over one shoulder and began to fly back upward. Delorian glanced to the side where the arrows were coming from. There were a pair of drow, darting onto a ledge, firing and darting back. The shade shook his head and was about to shadow step toward the fools when Tanerus's frantic call got his attention. The monk looked up and gasped when he saw the massive bloated form of a spider crawling along the wall toward the opening. 

The thing had to be forty feet across. Its thick hairy legs propelled it along the wall and webbing with ease. Its mandibles snapped the air in front of it, and its fiery eyes glowed with an unnatural light. 

Mytrym easily made the ledge and tossed the mages body onto the stone. He spun back to see the spider trying to cut Delorian off from the ledge. The monk pulled up the ladder with unnatural speed, zipping up the ladder. He would easily outpace the spider and make the ledge first.

Amador decided to give him a bit of a hand. Just below and wrapping to beside the monk, in front of the spider, whirling blades materialized and began cutting everything in their path. Delorian grinned and reached for the last of the ladder's rungs. 

The blades never slowed the spider. As it burst through, blood running in rivulets from various holes in its carapace it stopped and shudder a bit before spitting a thick glob of webbing. Delorian was helpless, clinging to the ladder and the thick web slapped around around him, pinning him easily to the ladder and wall beyond. He tried to reach for the shadows, but he could not move enough to draw himself into the shadows. He was trapped, and the spider was closing the distance fast.

Tanerus pulled his wand and let loose with a fireball that lit up the cavern. The spider did not even seem to notice. The flames just peeled away from it, licking at the webs around it, but not harming the spider in the slightest. The halfling cursed softly and backpedaled as the spider lurched toward the ledge and Delorian beyond. 

The spider started as the flying form of Mytrym flew in front of it. He hacked once and then a second time, not at the spider, but at the webbing holding Delorian to the wall. The spider lurched forward and slammed its mandibles around the paladin. It pierced his armor easily. The paladin shrugged the attack off, wrenching free of the mandibles and cutting at the monk's bounds yet again. Delorian ripped free and shoved up and rolled past the edge of the ledge to the safety of the stone beyond. 

Mytrym turned to face the monstrous foe, but flew backwards trying to get out of reach. He landed on the platform and dropped to one knee, hurting badly. Amador slipped in behind the paladin and cast a powerful healing spell as the paladin used his goddess' blessing to heal himself as well. Strong once again he lurched forward at the monstrous spider.

The spider was just to one side of the ledge and down beneath the edge by about five feet. Delorian peered at it a moment, seeming to calculate the distances. Finally he took a few steps then leapt forward, arms in front of him, diving at the spider. At the last moment his arms went to either side, outstretched wide. He tucked his head and rolled in mid air, coming down with both feet hard on the spider's thick hide. His bracers glowed as he reared back and slammed a fist hard into the beast. The carapace cracked beneath his hands and he shoved up off the beast, flipping backwards and landing back atop the ledge, much to the surprise of everyone watching.

Plickit had tried to jump back up the shaft, carrying a rope with him. He lost his footing and came back down into the chamber, cursing in a serious of strange clicks and hums. He joined Tanerus and Naria, backing away from the opening as the massive spider lurched up and snapped forward toward Amador.

Mytrym was not about to let the spider get to the cleric though, he threw himself at the creature hacking at the mandibles with his sword, slamming his shield into one. The spider seemed to take offense at the intrusion on its plans and reared back. As it came toward the paladin its eyes glowed dark and its mandibles seemed to drip with an otherworldly darkness, an evil that was perceptible. 

Mytrym stiffened as the mandibles again pierced his armor. This time his form shuddered as the spider seemed to pulse and poison filled the aasimar's veins, overcoming him with its deadly toxin. The paladin cried out and went limp, his sword was too heavy to lift, his armor was too much to bear, and his shield fell to his side, unable to be lifted. The mandibles opened and he dropped to his knees in front of the monster. It reared up its huge form and let out an unearthly howl, preparing to devour its latest victim.


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## iwatt (Sep 9, 2003)

Wraithdrit said:
			
		

> Also, I'm considering doing some just straight fiction (FR and some of my own fantasy). Anyone be interested in reading it?
> 
> - Wraith




Me, Me, Me


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## sparhawk (Sep 9, 2003)

Wraithdrit said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Also, I'm considering doing some just straight fiction (FR and some of my own fantasy). Anyone be interested in reading it?
> 
> - Wraith



I would be interested in reading more of your work.


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## Wraithdrit (Sep 10, 2003)

Plickit backpedaled further from the massive spider and threw one of his throwing wedges at the thing. It impeded deep into the hide of the spider, but then wrenched free and flipped back to the thri-kreen’s hand.

Barely able to move, Mytrym lashed out at the spider. He was barely able to swing his large sword, and the effort it took just to swing it made the resulting attack useless. The spider reared back as if to strike again, but before it could Delorian leapt forward and into the air. He spun and lashed out with a kick right into one of the joints of the spider’s legs. As if howling in pain, the spider let out a screech of some sort and began to back down into the massive webbing. 

Tanerus rushed forward to the edge of the ledge and point one of the wands he had at the thing. Nothing happened. The halfling cursed at the useless length of bone, “Work damn it!”

“We can’t let it get away,” muttered Delorian. He leapt over the edge once again. This time when he landed on the spider, he grabbed a hold and began repeatedly pounding on the thing’s back.

The creature slipped through thicker strands of webbing, trying to catch Delorian on one particularly thick tangle. The monk was not about to stay around and get stuck again, so he pulled a shadow over him and stepped through, reappearing back on the ledge.

His arms raised Amador called forth the power of his god and sent a column of fire erupting through the monstrous creature. Though the flames did not seem to hurt creature, something about the holy energy involved seemed to tear at the very fabric that held the beast together.

Tanerus studied the spider from the ledge, squinting to try and see if it was still moving. He shrugged, “Can’t hurt to make sure.” Again he pointed the wand at the thing, as he had learned to do. Again nothing happened.

Naria smirked and quipped, “Perhaps you are holding the wrong end.”

Also wanting to make sure the thing was dead, Plickit tossed his returning chatka at the thing once more. Again the wedge thunked into the thing. It certainly seemed dead now, it wasn’t moving at all.

Amador quickly knelt to try and help Mytrym stand. After the paladin was on his feat, the cleric muttered a soft prayer, sending healing energy coursing through the aasimar.

Mytrym growled, “We should back off.” Amador nodded and started leading Mytrym towards the shaft leading up out of the room. Plickit was there first, and he sprung up the shaft and grabbed the edge. He hauled himself up and tied his rope onto the ring and tossed it down to the rest of the group.

As they began hauling people up, Delorian voiced a concern, “If we flee from this ledge, we will have to retake it, something I think would be very difficult.”

Tanerus shook his head, “So would keeping Mytrym alive if he was attacked here. We need to at least have him and the others up top, you, Plickit and I can hide here and try to keep the drow at bay.”

Plickit nodded and the three found places to hide along the ledge, but still looking down into the darkness.

Up top, the others tried to get comfortable. Unfortunately they would not even be allowed to get to sleep before they were disturbed.

*Will’s Apartment
Dagger Falls
Marpenoth 4th, Late Evening
*
Will smiled over at Serin, “Ready to get back?” 

The archer grinned and wrinkled her nose. “Do we have to go back so soon, we did just get here.”

Will smirked, “I wish we could stay longer, but I did accept the position as Chancellor, Gregor is pretty lost without me.”

Serin sighed and shrugged, “I guess we have no choice then. I do so hate this…” She grabbed a hold of Will’s belt and closed her eyes tight. “Maybe if I don’t look it won’t make me as sick…”

Will never answered, his voice was low as he muttered the incantation to the teleportation spell. The world shifted around the pair, then shimmered and came back into focus. The sickness was almost imperceptible, probably because they had not moved an inch. They still stood in Will’s apartment.

Serin grinned before opening her eyes, “That wasn’t bad at all.” She opened her eyes then blinked, “Oh. But I thought if it failed we would be dead…”

Will frowned, “No if it was unsuccessful we could be dead… failing to teleport us at all means that something is blocking teleports into Tethyamar.”

“But you’ve teleported back there before.”

Will nodded, “Aye.”

“So what can do that?”

“Magic, powerful magic.”

“But I’m pretty sure the dwarves can’t do that.”

Will sighed and sat down hard on the edge of his bed. He looked back to Serin, “In order for someone to cast that spell they would have to be inside the mines. And the only way to do that would be if the dwarves were…” He looked at the book dangle by its leather straps at his side.

Serin finished the sentence for him. “Dead.”

*Above Szith Morcane
Underdark
Marpenoth 4th, A Couple of Hours Prior to Midnight
*
Tanerus blinked and glanced over at Plickit. The thri-kreen ranger nodded. He saw the movement too. Out of one of the holes in the chasm wall below a drow had slipped onto one of the ladders and was starting down further into the chasm, heading for another hole in the wall.

Plickit clicked softly, “Trying to-tck warn others-tck.”

Tanerus nodded and loaded his crossbow. Both heroes leaned over the ledge at once. Tanerus fired his crossbow and Plickit tossed his returning chatka. Both missiles slammed into the drow sentry below. He started to climb back up immediately.

He was the least of their worries. A drow spellguard leaned out of the hole and pointed up at them. Ice and snow materialized around the trio, slamming into all three for several seconds. It had been a trap, the spellguard had baited them to see if they would reveal themselves. It had worked perfectly.

Tanerus tried to retaliate with a searing light spell from one of his wands. The wand leapt to life in his hands and a bolt of light slammed into the spellguard. His drow innate resistance to magic kicked in though, and he was able to shrug off the magic light and leap back into the hole below, disappearing with the spellguard from sight.
Tanerus and Plickit backed away from the edge for a few moments, then they and Delorian glanced back over the ledge, only to see no one in sight, the drow must have been testing to see if they were still up there or not.

Delorian did not even say a word; he just pulled the shadows over him, disappearing from sight. He then stepped through the shadows and appeared off to one side of the hole the two drow had come out of. He could see a pair of drow guards, crouched at the end of a funnel shaped corridor. A ten-foot bottleneck led into the next room.

Time started to slip away. The drow guards seemed content to crouch near the hallway, watching the edge of the ledge from the safety of their position.

Tanerus glanced over the edge and frowned, “Its too hard to see down there, I need more light.”

The shadow hissed at him, “No fool, light is bad …”

The halfling growled, “Hush,” then fished an oil flask from his pack. He stuffed a cloth into the bottle and leaned over and threw it at the ledge.

Delorian was surprised when the ledge some fifteen from his current position, burst into flames at the sounds of a smashed bottle. Instantly the guards reacted, they started to back down the hallway, and both posted up in the corners of the next doorway, waiting to shoot whatever stuck its head out.

Plickit and Tanerus began moving closer to the lower ledge. Tanerus pulled out a scroll and fumbled through a spell that would let him climb like a spider. It worked and the halfling was soon scrambling across the webs to get a good vantage point on the hallway. He was easily concealable within the webbing, and was confident he would not be seen. Regardless he pulled the shadows closest to him around him, increasing his chances of remaining hidden. Plickit was sliding down the ladder quickly and was about halfway there. 

Meanwhile Delorian crept forward, inching towards the guard’s, shadows still completely obscuring him from sight by even the keen dark elven vision.  He stopped just in front of one of the guards, and then glanced beyond him into the room. Though he could only see part of the room, he saw at least eight more drow within. Worse still, he could hear the shuffling and breathing of several more in the corners of the room he could not see. There had to be near a score of drow within the room, all were armed, and all looked ready for a fight.

Delorian turned and began to retreat out of the room. He had to warn the others off, make sure they did not do anything rash. He was too late. Tanerus, knowing that drow were hiding just beyond the corridor he could see pulled out his wand of fireballs. The monk saw the pea shaped ball of fire streaking into the passage and rolled to the ground and to one side. Fire exploded within the room beyond. 

There were cries of surprise from within, and then the sounds of an officer barking, “Go, go, go! Kill the intruders!”


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## Wraithdrit (Sep 15, 2003)

Tanerus quickly lowered himself into the mass of webbing that he was hiding in. He clutched the wand nervously and chewed on his lower lip. What had he gotten himself into, he thought. Well the others had to be close by. He hoped.

Hearing the commotion coming from the barracks Plickit reached over to one arm, where his everesmoking bottle was strapped down, its cork firmly in place. He flicked the cork free and smoke spewed forth from the bottle beginning to quickly fill the area of the chasm around him. 

Delorian backed quickly away as the smoke swirled around him, filling the opening. He slid back and against the wall as drow warrior after drow warrior began fanning out, cautiously moving forward through the smoke.

Hoping that he had made escape possible for the others, Plickit began quickly climbing up the ladder. He was not sure who had stirred up the drow, but it sounded like there were far too many for him and his companions to handle. 

Delorian did all he could to become one with the wall, his shadowy form was invisible even to the sharp drow vision, and the smoke was making it hard for everyone to see. The monk crept slowly toward the ledge. All the while his hand slid through shadows, ready to pull a shadow loose so he could step through. 

Tanerus waved at the smoke in front of him, frowning all the while. He could hear that there were several drow swarming out onto the landing, but he could not see them. Well, if he could not see them, they could not see him. He leveled the wand once again and fire belched forth from it once more.

The explosion rocked the landing, and several drow were flung to the ground. Delorian threw up his hands, but the flames did not quite reach where he was. The drow reacted quicker than the monk thought was possible. Hand crossbows fired out in a wave, a score of bolts flinging out into the chasm.

Tanerus yelped as the bolts went flying by. They were shooting blind, but they knew generally where the fireball had come from. Bolts ripped past him, one skinned his ear, not actually marking him. He twisted to one side and a bolt slammed into his arm. He winced by did not cry out. He could not give away his position! He reached for the bolt, knowing its poison was already entering his system. He resisted the urge to sleep. The urge to just lay in the comfortable webbing and take a nap. Another bolt sunk into his thigh. He shuddered and collapsed into the web, asleep.

Up top, Mytrym heard the second explosion. “I have to go down there!” He grabbed out a potion and drank it down, more of his strength started to return to him. Naria was quick to react, grabbing him by the arm.

“Are you crazy? You’ll be killed just like them. You are in no condition to fight!” The paladin paused for only a moment, staring at Naria in disbelief. It did not matter to him if he would die, he was not going to let his friends die alone.

As the drow scrambled off the ledge and onto the web, one drow, a spellguard flew out into the web seeking whoever had tossed the fireballs at his group. He found the halfling sleeping in the web and scowled. His knife came into his hands as he leaned down and grabbed the halfling by the hair.

Plickit reached the ledge leading out of the chasm and scrambled toward the hole. When he got there he threw himself up. His powerful insect legs propelled him upward and his hands grabbed the edge. The others quickly pulled him up.

Delorian appeared behind the group, “Too many to fight alone.”

Mytrym spun on him, “Where’s Tanerus?”

Delorian shrugged, “I never saw him. I assume that was him tossing fireballs. He must still be below.”

Mytrym looked down the shaft. Below there were the sounds of what sounded like a small army coming. “We can’t leave him down there!”

Naria grabbed his arm once again. “You would sacrifice all of us to save him? We have to go!”

Amador muttered a quick prayer of blessing, asking his god to look over those with him in this, their most desperate hour.

Delorian shook his head, “No. We hold the ledge. If they take it, they will only fortify it.” He stepped past Naria and dropped down the shaft.  

Mytrym looked to Plickit. The thrikreen shrugged, “Plickit-tck go down the hole. Tck.” The ranger followed Delorian down the hole, but had not even reached the bottom when her heard the sounds of fighting.

Delorian had hit the bottom and tumbled to his feet facing a drow officer. The women wielded a twin bladed sword and she lashed out before the monk had much chance to react. He backpedaled quickly, and a second drow officer came out of the swirling smoke to attack his flank. He could see other shapes moving through the thick smoke. The ledge had already been lost. 

Plickit landed, and quickly took stock of the situation. There was no way for them to hold the ledge against this. Perhaps if Mytrym was healthy, if Amador and Naria were not out of spells, maybe then, but with the group so exhausted this was not a fight they could win. He fell back into a corner and hid, his ring making his form look like the rocks around him.

Delorian fought a quick retreat. Once out of range of the officers’ deadly twin swords, he pulled a shadow across his form and stepped through.

Up top the others were already moving out. They backed quickly down the uneven natural corridor. Delorian appeared beside them. Grim determination showed on the monk’s features as he pulled shadows back across him, once again disappearing from sight. Delorian would hold the ground for as long as he could, knowing he could escape faster than any of the others.

One of the drow appeared from in the shaft. She walked straight up the wall, her feet clinging to it as if she were a spider herself. She crouched, watching the surface dwellers retreat. The second officer soon joined her. Delorian began to take a step toward them, perhaps if he could stun them he could toss them back down the shaft. 

His movement was cut short when a drow spellguard floated up the shaft and into view. Without pausing the spellguard cast a quick spell, sending multiple magical bolts slamming into the monk. The spellguard could see him. It was time to leave.

The monk turned and shadow stepped down the corridor to his companions. They moved quickly away. The drow were not chasing them, but they did not want to give them any reason to at this point. They needed to regroup. They needed rest. As they moved away, the spellguard called out to them in common, “Go surface dwellers, and never return!” He lifted a knife, the blade of which was freshly stained with dripping blood. “Return and the White Banshee will have your souls, just like your halfling friend!”


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## Wraithdrit (Sep 17, 2003)

Plickit waited till the drow finally seemed to settle down. The smoke was starting to clear and any moment he would be visible to the elves’ keen senses. He quietly slipped the cork off the bottle again and the smoke thickened again.

The drow were quick to react. The officer that had remained started barking orders. Plickit did not wait to hear them. He launched himself from the wall, took several bounding steps then launched himself up through the hole. Bolts skittered off stone around him as the drow reacted to the noise. 

The thri-kreen never stopped. His quick, able strides picked his way down the long natural corridor that lead toward the surface. He did not slow down till he found the rest of the group stopped outside the small hill that held the entrance to the crypts.

Mytrym nodded as Plickit stepped out of the doorway, “Somehow I knew you would make it out.” The paladin seemed actually pleased to see the ranger. In fact, having lost one companion already, the entire group seemed a little relieved to see the ranger. Even Delorian, who had remained cool to the thri-kreen seemed a little relieved to see him. The monk may not really like traveling with a member of race of creatures that his people were currently trying to enslave or destroy, but that did not mean he did not recognize the ranger’s usefulness to the group. Happiest to see Plickit was his desert dog. The animal leapt up and licked the ranger on the side of one mandible. 

Plickit petted his companion then pushed the dog off and to the ground, “Good boy. Tck.” He looked to the others and nodded.

The group gathered their various packs and weapons, their short rest over. Without saying much they turned toward the north. The five-hour trek toward Dagger Falls was made in a sort of hushed uncomfortable silence that none of them enjoyed. Outside of town Plickit stopped and began making himself a camp, and Naria sat down to join him.

Mytrym looked confused, “You aren’t coming into town?” 

The wizard looked at him, “I have no more illusions prepared to hide myself. I would be killed on sight.” 

Looking between the two, Plickit pulled off a ring from one hand. Tossing it into Naria’s lap he nodded. “Wear that-tck. You can be what-tck you want-tck.”

The entire group stared at Plickit a moment. Naria nodded, “Thank you. I’ll return it as soon as we return.” Knowing the lending of a magic trinket was no big deal, the thri-kreen pulled out a small bundle of bloody cloth and whistled for his dog. The group quickly turned to walk away.

Amador shook his head as they walked on toward town, “Maybe if he just cooked it first…” He shuddered at the thought of what the thri-kreen was eating in his camp. Worse was the way the dog had seemed so eager to join the insect warrior for the meal.
The group soon stood before the gates. Amador tried unsuccessfully to get the gate guard to open up. It wasn’t until Mytrym exerted his forceful will that the gates were finally opened. The group quickly retired for the night, and went the next morning to see Randal Morn.

At hearing the news of Tanerus’ demise, and the loss of the gem, Morn seemed a bit discouraged. “What is your plan now?”

Amador shrugged, “We replace the halfling’s skills with someone else and go back to finish what we started.” Amador spoke coldly of replacing Tanerus, not using his name so he could distance himself from the pain of the loss of the last of his original companions that had gone with him to Tethyamar.

Mytrym nodded, “Do you know of anyone that could help?”

Morn shook his head, “I’ll ask around among my scouts, but I don’t know of any that would want to join a trip to the Underdark. That’s something I cannot order someone to do. Oh, your friend Will was in town last night. You might want to see if he knows anyone.”

Amador seemed to brighten, “Yes!”

Delorian looked to the others, “Will is here? Perhaps he would join us. We could use the aid. We are far outnumbered, more magical support will certainly help our chances.”

Amador looked back to Morn, “Can you help us get some more supplies?” 

Morn looked a little a loss, “I wish I could, but I called in all the favors I had and used as much money as I could to get you the diamonds to bring back the thri-kreen. Sorry.”

The group nodded and soon took their leave. They split up, with Amador going to the Temple of Tyr to get as many scrolls and potions as he could afford. Mytrym and Delorian went to an alchemist shop and procured a few other potions. They all met back up and headed to Will’s home.

The wizard answered the door, half dressed. He let the group in after a few moments. Serin was relaxing in one corner of Will’s bed, dressed, but obviously only recently so. Will look concerned, “Where is Tanerus…?”

After explaining Will sat down on the edge of his bed and shook his head, “This is not good. Not good at all. Things get worse. I have reason to believe that after Serin and I left Tethyamar yesterday, it fell to invaders.”

The entire group was shocked, Mytrym was the first to voice the obvious, “What?! What happened?”

Will frowned, “We tried to teleport back. The spell was blocked.”

Naria broke in, “Blocked? But that means someone has cast a dimensional anchor over the area.”

Will nodded and helped finish the line of thinking. “Something none of the dwarves would know or allow. I can only assume that someone has taken exception to our presence there.” He glanced at Delorian but did not voice the thought that accompanied the look.

Amador sighed, “We have to go back.”

Will shook his head, “Not yet. Lets take care of this drow outpost first.” He stood and walked over to his backpack. He pulled forth his crossbow and traveling clothes from the magical bag. “We will need someone who can take Tanerus’ place.”

Mytrym nodded, “We were hoping you might know someone.”

Will turned and smirked at the aasimar. “I do. We will need to go talk to Morn.”

A few minutes later they stood looking at Morn as the Lord of Daggerdale yelled, “What!? You have to be kidding me! You want me to release your cousin? You know as well as I that he was rightfully convicted and sentenced. No. I can’t do that.”

Will countered, “What if he pays full restitution? Allow him to accompany us and I’m sure we can use his share of the treasure to pay back his victims.”

“And when the Calahans see him walking free before that? What kind of trouble do you think that is going to start? No way. You need to find another way.”

“There is no one else. You know as well as I that without the church’s divinations Marcus would have never been caught. He is good at what he does, and we need him. I’ll get him out of the city without being recognized.” Will smiled as he leaned forward, “What’s worse? Letting a convicted felon out of prison, or the continued drow raids?”

Morn groaned and grabbed his coat from the back of his chair. As he shoved one arm into it he glared over at the group, “I’m going to regret this. I know I am.”

When Marcus was brought of his cell into the cellblock in the entrance to the town dungeons, he looked like he had not shaved or bathed in well over a year. Mainly because it was true. His beard and hair were long and scraggly. He walked a bit stiffly, but his step was surer with each stride. When he saw Morn he shook his head, “No, I won’t tell you where it is, go sod off!” He started to turn around, but the jailer shoved him forward. 

Morn shook his head, “Actually Marcus, I’m here to let you go?”

That got the thief’s attention, “Eh? Why would you do that?”

Morn stepped aside to allow the small group of heroes, led by Marcus’ cousin, into the room. Will nodded, “Hello Marcus.”

Marcus grinned, “Will!” He strode up and clapped one shoulder of the mage. “You are a sight for sore eyes.” He looked to the others then to Morn. “So you need me then eh? Heh. How the tables do turn, eh Morn?”

Morn frowned but held his tongue for the moment. He turned and looked at Will, “Clean him up, and get him out of my town.” He looked back at Marcus, “Your group fails in this, you go back in the dungeon. If you don’t come back with them, I’ll place a price on your head so large…”

Marcus shook his head, “No you won’t… you won’t have to. We won’t fail, and I’ll be with them.” He blinked then looked at Will, “What are we not failing at?”

Will smiled, “I’ll tell you on the road.”

Morn nodded, “Remember, no one sees him. No one.”

Will nodded, “No problem.”

An hour later, the two walked out into the light of day. Marcus winced and put up an arm, frowning at the bright light. He blinked a few times then muttered to Will, “I have one stop to make.”

Will frowned and shook his head, “No. We told Morn we would see no one. We got you cleaned up, but even your beard will not keep some people from recognizing you. Lets go.”

Marcus grinned. “Will, I spent the last two years in that cell because I would not give up what I had. I’m not about to leave town without. Stop me if you must.” He turned and started to walk away. 

Sighing, Will jogged to catch up. “Fine, but we make it quick.” Will knew he would probably regret this, but he needed Marcus.


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## iwatt (Sep 17, 2003)

Damn. You are going to have to rename the heroes of Tehyamar into something else. Only the cleric left. They alays are the hardest to kill 

Someone jinxed the group (I think it was Will, in one of his POVs) when he said "I can't believe none of us has fallen yet" or something like that.


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## Wraithdrit (Sep 18, 2003)

Ah but now they have Will back! So there are once again, two originals. 

And I wrote that 'jinx' in as foreshadowing, because I knew that two characters died in the next log or two.  I'm crafty that way. Heh.


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## Wraithdrit (Sep 19, 2003)

*Underdark
Marpenoth 5th, 1372, Late Evening*

The group settled into the small hidden smuggler’s cove that they had originally fought the Lolth worshipping drow. From there they knew they could launch attacks on the outpost. Hopefully the illusionary walls that had hid the Lolth worshippers from the followers of Kiaransalee would also hide them. Besides, they only needed about 10 hours and they would be in the outpost, laying waste to whatever they could find.

Will appeared through the third illusionary wall, carrying a torch. He walked over and set the torch into a small holder they had set up against one wall. He turned to the others, smiling. 

Mytrym looked up from wiping a cloth along the blade of his sword. Naria looked up from where she was sitting behind him. She had a large cloth spread on the ground and had various strange alchemical devices bubbling, boiling, and steaming. 

Delorian was sitting cross-legged against one wall. His eyes opened, his meditation interrupted by the wizard’s inevitable news. 

Amador sat on a large crate, his quiver in his lap. He was checking an arrow to make sure the shaft was straight an undamaged. He lowered the arrow and looked to Will. 

Plickit was crouched to another side of the natural cavern. His companion was curled beneath the ranger, enjoying the petting of two of the thri-kreen’s four arms. Plickit looked up and cocked his head to one side.

Marcus was stretched out; feet crossed and propped up on his small pack. His fingers where laced together across his chest and his head was propped on his rolled up cloak. He turned his head just a little to be able to hear what Will had to say.

The mage paused to make sure he had everyone’s attention. “It took two castings, but I think you will like what I saw.” He dropped down and grabbed out a few rolls of parchment from his pack. Grabbing out a charcoal stick he began scribbling maps. Small circles started marked the locations of sentries. Filled in circles marked the location of more of the undead drow. ‘S’s marked the spot where spellguards were located. ‘X’s marked the single officer he could detect. As he drew, he explained each location.

Mytrym leaned forward, regarding the maps. “So we have two sentries between here and the ledge and four sentries, a skinned one, and an officer on the ledge. Sounds do able. Especially with the plan…”

Will nodded, “I have a few simple modifications to the plan so we make sure that no one below is alerted by the top sentries…” Will explained the plan, nodding to each participant. Discussion followed, and finally the plan was finished. “Now lets get some rest, we’ve got a hell of a fight ahead of us and I don’t want to lose anyone in there.”

An hour later, Delorian quietly pulled a shadow over his ‘sleeping’ form. He reappeared two rooms away, slipping from the shadows. He reached down to unclasp the bracer at his wrist. He ran his fingers over the tattoo revealed there. It had been a few days since he had heard from his lord. The last time he had seen him, he had been arguing with High Prince’s right hand man, the Chamberlain Hadrhune. He hoped and prayed that Clariburnus was well. The High Prince’s wrath was legendary. Delorian did not even want to consider the ramifications if Clariburnus were gone. So far his messages had seemed to be going through, but he had yet to get any word back. 

He pressed hard on the tattoo, and the magic within it flashed to life. The tattoo glowed with a purplish light that reflected off the monk’s features as he began his report. “My prince…”

Naria whispered softly to Mytrym. The two were tucked away in a corner. “I don’t like this Mytrym. Our way is to bring them into the light, not slaughter them.” 

Mytrym nodded, “I know what our mistress bids us do Naria, but these are not just misguided followers. Someone is doing something very bad, or planning to, I can feel it to my bones. I have to do what I can to stop them. If that means I have to cut a swathe through our people to get at its dark heart, then so be it.”

Naria chewed on her lower lip. “I know but…” She trailed off and turned away, pulling her cloak over her more fully.

When she did not continue Mytrym patted her shoulder gently and whispered, “I know Naria… its not an easy path we follow, I don’t pretend to like what it is I must do. But I must do it, for the sake of all those that are unable to join the light because of what the dark one is doing. Plus, I can not help but feel that if we don’t do this, something even worse will befall our people.” He put his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling.

Amador sat quietly, his reverie having overcome his senses long ago. He was reliving the times when he and his best friend had first set up the grove to Corellon. It was that friend that had worn the circlet. The same grove was where he had found his friend dead. It was there that his quest into the Underdark had started. He relived those better moments, when his friend was still alive. All to remind him of what he was fighting for, and why he risked his life in these dark and deadly caverns.

Plickit sat crouched in the middle of the room. The maps that Will had drawn were spread out before him. The ranger was memorizing every nook and cranny the maps depicted. He memorized the location of each sentry, of each door that more drow might be able to come from, of each area where he would chose to set up ambushes, knowing that would be where the drow would most likely set one. He knew elves, even these dark skinned ones. He knew their strengths, their weaknesses. He knew how to track them, how to hunt them, and especially how to kill them. He looked forward to putting those skills to use.

Will slept quietly in one corner. He had fallen asleep while studying. The book, his book, the book that had been the reason he first started out of Dagger Falls, was open beneath him. He had fallen forward, arms crossed, head down. He slept quietly atop the ancient scripts describing the best uses for the purest of elements- fire. He dreamt of the coming conflict. 

In his dream he was once again seeing through his arcane eye spell. But this time he watched as his friends fought. He watched as he himself cast spell after spell at the ever-present enemy. In his dreams he knew that the drow he fought were the same ones that had burned his family home. They had made the ultimate mistake in targeting him. They had made it personal. With the power of the book at his fingertips, he would make sure it was a mistake they would not live long enough to regret.

Marcus lifted his head and looked around at his new companions. It was an interesting group. He was glad to be out of his cell, but at what cost? He just hoped that these people were as competent as his cousin made them out to be. He had been impressed with Will. He seemed a lot older, and a lot stronger willed, than he had ever seen him. 

The only thing he worried about was the dark look that crossed his cousin’s features at the talk of killing the drow. Marcus had learned long ago not to make his work personal. When you made it personal you could lose sight of the goal, be that a great heist or something like this. Attacking a drow outpost. What kind of insanity had he really signed up for? Oh well, he reminded himself, it was better than sitting in a cell.


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## Wraithdrit (Sep 22, 2003)

*Szith Morcane
Marpenoth 5th, 1372, Late Evening*

Te’tria was fuming mad. She was stuck on the ledge overlooking the chasm, waiting for a team to return from the surface. A team she should have led. She drew blood on the traitorous Shade, it was her right to lead the hunting party after them. She had been the one to report the intrusion. She had been the one who had repelled the pitiful surface dweller’s assault. Sure they held the ledge for a couple of hours and had slain the webspinner, but she was glad to see the thing gone, they did not really have any need for the largest symbol of the spider goddess for leagues!

She remembered back to when she had reported the assault to Dorina. She had strode in, her head high. Her place in the outpost’s military would be assured by her victory. “M’lady. We have repelled surface dwellers who attacked the chasm!” She spoke breathlessly, excited at giving the report to her mistress.

Dorina had looked up from what she had been doing. Te’tria had to look away from Dorina’s ‘subject’; the amount of blood was almost enough to turn her stomach. Her mistress almost looked bored, “And?” 

“I would like to form a team to go after them, ma’am.”

“No.” Dorina turned back to what she was doing. The form lying before her twitched and the drow mistress chuckled gently.

Te’tria was lost in her anger at being refused, and did not notice what her mistress’ victim was going through. “What? Its my right! I-“

Dorina spun faster than Te’tria thought possible. Her hand latched onto the officer’s throat and Dorina shoved her back against the wall, knocking the wind out of her. “You question me?” Fire blazed behind her pale eyes as she growled, “Impudent wench.” Her fingers squeezed and Te’tria’s breathing started to come in rasps. 

A male voice came from the back of the room. “Don’t kill her sister, we need her alive.”

Dorina glanced back, ignoring the clawing of Te’tria’s hands on her fingers and wrist. “Zedarr…” She looked over her brother, his black plate armor, glistened in the light of the faerie fire that lit the room. The scar tissue of his entire right half of his face also caught the light. “You take all the fun out of things.” She released the officer, who fell to her knees coughing and wheezing. “Do take care of her, and see to it this problem does not continue. I’m busy…” She went back to her victim as Zedarr strode over to stare down at Te’tria.

“Get up.” Te’tria quickly found her feet, knowing that if she did not obey his orders, the consequence could be profound. She hated following the orders of a male, but this one was as dangerous as his sister, if not more so, and as long as they ruled Szith Morcane, she was theirs to command. “Tell me of these surface dwellers.” He turned to walk away, motioning for Te’tria to walk with him and explain what she had learned.

Eventually they ended up outside of the chamber, and Zedarr stopped to listen to the entire story. Finally he nodded and began giving her orders. “Sounds like someone got lost, or lucky. It won’t happen again. Repost sentries at the forward post and on the ledge. Join the ledge patrol, I’ll have Valnura relieve you when your shift is over.”

“Yes, m’lord. But should someone not go after them? I would be happy to lead a raiding party to the surface…” She let her voice trail off as she realized that Zedarr had begun frowning. 

“No, captain. Your place is with your troops on the ledge. In case these surface fools try to return. Understood.”

Resigned, the drow officer nodded, “Yes, sir.” She turned and walked away. Zedarr watched her go, considering these latest developments. He walked down the hall to a door. He stopped there and knocked loudly. After a few moments, Velina, his niece, came to the door. She looked so much like her mother; the resemblance was uncanny, right down to the vestments of Kiaransalee. 

She narrowed her eyes at her uncle and questioned him, “What is it?”

“The outpost was attacked by surface dwellers. I have a task for you…”


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## Wraithdrit (Sep 24, 2003)

*Smuggler’s Cove
Underdark
Marpenoth 6th, 1372, Early morning
*
Will leaned back from the maps and looked around. “Everyone got it?”

The group nodded, everyone looked at each other with a mix of grim determination and mild excitement.

“Perhaps I can help a little.” The voice was deep and otherworldly, instantly recognizable by Delorian. Without looking, the monk dropped to one knee as he spun around. The others spun as well, most found weapons in their hands before they even really knew what was going on.

“My lord.” Delorian spoke softly, knowing the prince’s hearing was, like his, superior to human hearing.

Standing against one wall, his arms cross, his cloak flapping in some unfelt breeze, was Clariburnus. He stepped from the wall and tossed Delorian a belt wrapped around an amulet. “A monk’s belt, and an Amulet of Might Fists. I will need the bracers and your old amulet back.” Delorian stripped the bracers and amulet off and handed them to his prince. The magic tattoo glowed faintly on his forearm, revealed without the bracer to hide it.

Clariburnus turned to the others, regarding Will mainly. Will was watching the shade, a look of distrust in his eyes. “Your return will benefit the group greatly Will. Welcome back. I’ll cast a few enchantments upon your group to help with your trip.” He began with a pair of stoneskin enchantments on Delorian and Mytrym. “When you are all ready to depart I will turn you invisible, that way you can save the rest of Naria’s invisibilities for later.” He not only knew her name, but he knew their plan. How long had he been there?

The prince looked between the few members of the group and pulled out a pair of rings. “These will allow someone who can not see in the dark to see as if it were daylight.” He handed them over. Will gave one to Amador and the other to Marcus.

The prince looked at Will and frowned, “What of you?”

Will shrugged and smiled, “Its something I learned to do a while ago. Part of my training in the ways of the element of fire.”

Clariburnus grinned, “An elemental savant. How interesting.”  He held out a bag next. Will took it and opened it to see twelve small potions. “Moderate curing, so you can save Amador’s spells for their proper uses.” He went into another round of casting, and soon Mytrym, Plickit, Marcus, and Delorian were hasted and Plickit and Marcus could see invisible things. Another spell and the entire group felt invigorating, endurance coursing through their veins.

The prince looked around, “Good luck. You are about face, the most difficult challenge your group has ever faced. May whatever god you worship favor you this day.” With that he cast one last spell, causing the entire group to fade from sight.

Will’s voice came out first. “Alright, first things first. The silence spells…”

*Sentry Post
Underdark, just above Szith Morcane
Marpenoth 6th, A few minutes later…
*
The drow sentry sniffed, and shifted his weight. He glanced over at his companion and shrugged gently. His companion frowned at the noise then turned to look back down the natural corridor. The surface dwellers could return at any time. He wanted to be ready for them.

Things got very quite and he turned to his companion to ask him if he heard, or rather, did not hear that. His eyes shot open with surprise when he saw that he was falling backwards. Nine small metallic wedges were embedded in his companion’s head, neck, and chest. He crumpled without a sound.

He tried to yell and spin on the attacker, but he was faced with the fast moving form of a shade dressed in monk garb. Before he could raise his hand crossbow a foot lashed out, breaking his arm at the elbow. A knee ripped up into his gut, and he spat blood onto the stone as he doubled over. Hands grabbed his head and it twisted at an impossible angle. He shuddered and died without a sound.

Mytrym watched the fight from behind the sentries. Seeing it was over he flew down the shaft and down the long corridor leading to the second shaft. A bright glyph flashed on the corridor wall beside him. He expected to see an explosion from the trap, but not hear it, due to the silenced dagger he was carrying. Instead there was nothing. Interesting.

He flew further and a symbol flashed on the floor. This time he felt it. Pain went coursing through his body. He nearly flew face first into the wall, it caught him so off guard. It was not the pain of an attack, but a constant pain that coursed through him over and over. Gritting his teeth, he managed to get a point where he could move and think again, but constantly the pain distracted him. He turned back to the party. 

Plickit saw the paladin jerk around and wave him off. He stopped and looked over to where the rest of the party should be. After attacking his invisibility was gone so he motioned the party to stop and pointed forward and shook his head a few times.

Will stopped and stepped back from the silence effects. He cast a quick detect magic and saw the massive bubble of energy coursing from a point down the corridor. He centered a dispel magic on the effect and it disappeared from his magical sight.

He tapped Plickit on the shoulder and he motioned for the group to keep going.

On the ledge below Te’tria paced and shook her head gently. One of the sentries cried out in surprise and she looked up to see him pointing at a massive granite wall that now stood between them and the chasm. She yelled out, “To arms!” just as a massive cone of freezing energy ripped through almost her entire team. A human mage was spider climbing along the edge of the shaft. He was good, to get both those spells off so quickly.

She of course did not see the rest of the group, including Amador, who had cast the wall of stone.

The shouts of battle mixed with shouts of surprise. New assailants appeared out of nothingness as they laid into her troops. Rapiers flashed, bolts flew, but the drow were outmatched, surprised and had nowhere to run. The battle was over before it even started, and not a single drow stood standing.

The heroes of Tethyamar tossed aside the various silence objects for a moment. Will nodded, pleased with how well things were going. “Alright. Perfectly done all. Here’s what we do next…”


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## Wraithdrit (Sep 30, 2003)

The ‘Ledge Room’
Underdark, off the Szith Morcane chasm
Marpenoth 6th, Half an hour later… 

Marcus examined the small metal coins in his hand. The strange elven script stamped on them was obviously some dark saying of the drow. But the metal it was stamped into was what interested him. Platinum. He tossed the coins onto the pile the others had created in the upper ledge room. The pile was fairly impressive. The carnage had been impressive. Now that the fighting had paused the realizations that they had managed to pull off the first stage of their attack started to permeate into Marcus’ thoughts.

They had moved quickly from the ledge down to the barracks opening. The sentries inside had no hope of survival. Delorian traveled through the shadow plane to the other side of the entry room. The silence object he carried had kept the explosion that rocked the room in front of him from reverberating through the rest of the barracks. Mytrym and Plicket’s silence objects kept the sound from the chasm. There was a little vibration in the stone, but not much. Will’s fireball had been bright, hot and deadly. The quick assault by the rest of the group had finished off what remained of the sentries and their undead cohort.

Marcus was not going to forget what happened next. Not for many, many years. Thievery was one thing, but what they had done…it was slaughter. Pure and simple slaughter. With the silence spells covering their sounds they had easily moved room to room. One room held a meditating mage. He never made it out of his bed. The group was on him so fast that he died without lifting a weapon. 

The next room was a larder or dining room of sorts. It had been empty. The following room had several drow that were resting from guard duty. Mytrym had been the first in. Only one of the drow was ‘awake’. The rest were in something between a slumber and a meditation. Mytrym was on the one before anyone could do much to aid him. The silence spells were holding well, and the sleepers never heard the fight. As Marcus stepped in and looked at the sleeping forms, he realized what had to be done.

So did Mytrym, and he obviously did not like the idea. He looked around at the helpless opponents and closed his eyes. Muttering something covered by the silence spells, the paladin drew a knife and cut deep into his own hand. As he stalked out of the room he pressed the knife’s hilt into Marcus’ hand. 

The work was quick, bloody, and horrible. Not even monsters deserved to die like that. Two had waken as the knife bit into flesh. They had no chance to fight back, and their silent screams would echo in Marcus’ eyes forever. It had to be done. These monsters were killing his own people. Dagger Falls should not have to pay the price, should his resolve to follow through fail.

When it was over he cleaned the blade and handed it back to Mytrym in the hallway. The paladin did not even look at the knife. It slid into its sheath, and they moved to the next room. Something had tipped off its occupant though. When Mytrym stepped through the door, a drow officer, suspended horizontally from magical slippers hooked to the wall above the door, had attacked him viciously with a twin bladed sword. If the paladin had not been the recipient of one of the Shade Prince’s stoneskins, the attack may have been more crippling than the spell that still made the paladin take every step pained. 

The group had quickly rallied and the officer’s body was soon on the floor. Delorian was handed the slippers. Never know when a shadow stepping, wall climbing monk would be helpful. The other officer that shared quarters with this one had died up in the ledge room. Marcus already had her slippers on. 

The last room had been empty. So they gathered together again and set the silence items to one side. Will had suggested they take time to gather their spoils quickly. That was when it happened.

The drow female that was traveling with them, Naria, was caught in the middle of a lie. She was obviously distraught at the death of the second officer. When Will questioned her, she lied and denied it. Upon searching the room, a letter was found. It was addressed to Naria. Mytrym read it first, and turned and handed it to her. He had said that she should read it first but made it clear to her that the others would read it next. 

She handed the letter to Will and admitted that the dead officer was her cousin before walking off. Marcus had to wonder whether the drow female and the aasimar with drow blood would end up being an asset in this land or a hindrance. Time would tell, he was sure.

The letter made some things a little clearer. The spider queen is apparently silent to the drow for some reason. In her absence, a sect of the drow goddess of undeath had stepped in to power in the nearby drow city. The influence had spread to this outpost, and it was they that are responsible for the raids on Dagger Falls.

That would explain the carnage of the Lolth worshippers that Will’s arcane eye had seen in the temple complex near the bottom of the chasm. Will thought it also explained the undead drow that were helping the attackers. The ‘flayed’ ones are probably priestesses rendered useless by the silence of their goddess. It also explained why the original drow the group had encountered outside of Tethyamar two weeks prior had never cast a healing spell on her wounds.

Finally finished collecting the loot together the group moved to the ‘inverted tower’ that Will’s arcane eye had scryed earlier. There were a pair of guards, probably magic users, by what Will had learned in the attack on Dagger Falls a week prior. Marcus grew excited as they began to infiltrate in towards the archway leading to the tower, and the guardroom beyond.

Will put a hand out and stopped him. “Wait.” He cast a quick spell and narrowed his eyes on the doorway ahead. “A spell on that archway.” He turned towards Amador. “Can you dispel it?”

Amador nodded, “Of course.” He whispered a prayer to his deity and a soft shimmer surrounded the doorway.

Will frowned, “Still there.” He lifted his own hand and muttered a few syllables. The doorway once again shimmered, but the frown on Will’s face was obvious that the enchantment had withstood yet another dispel attempt. 

Naria whispered from the back of the group, “I could try.” Everyone looked at her. They knew that her spell casting prowess was no where near Will’s. He had specifically studied multiple types of counterspells in his career, and was very adapt at countering spells on the battlefield. Naria was inexperienced in comparison, to say the least. 

Will broke the strange silence with a nod, “Can’t hurt.” He stepped aside.

Naria shrugged and whispered, “I have multiple dispels prepared, I’ll use them all if necessary.” Will nodded and the young diviner lifted her hands and muttered a few words. The shimmer showed around the arch, then faded slowly. 

Amador smirked, “This is a bit pointless don’t you thi-“

Will interrupted him as he put a hand on Naria’s hand as she brought them up to try again. “You did it. Its down.”

Naria smiled, a truly bright smile, the only one she had really had since the group had met her. She shrugged, “Beginner’s luck?”

Will grinned, “I’ll take it.” He turned to the others, “Lets do it.”

Marcus and Plickit began stalking quietly forward. Delorian waited till they got halfway to where they were going and then he stepped through the shadows as he had planned. Invisible, he stepped out of the shadows hanging from the ceiling between the two sentries at a door. In his hand a small crystal globe held the last of their silence spells.

One of the sentries cocked his head to one side. “Did you hear that?” he asked the other sentry. 

The response was a disheartened grunt followed by, “No, you’re hearing things.”

A moment later, the second sentry frowned, “Yeah, I heard it that time.” He started to turn towards the door.

Delorian dropped the globe, and as the crystal shattered without a sound, the silence effect enveloped the small room. Marcus and Plickit appeared and attacked. One of the sentries got the door open. Two more sentries were within. Things happened fast. Too fast.

One of the sentries rolled out into the tower, out of the area of the silence spell. He cast a spell, that Will heard from were he was. Will growled, “A fly spell… go!” Amador and Mytrym rushed forward around the corner. The drow on the other side of the silence were dieing, and the one that was trying to get away had not expected more to come at him from behind. When one of Amador’s arrows plunged into him, the sentry grunted loudly.

Mytrym was on him in a flash. His sword hacked at the man quickly. As the sword buried into the man, he cried out pain. As his body fell under the combined blows of the group, his dieing grunts of pain echoed up into the four story tall inverted tower. Without anything in the room but stone, the huge area acted like an echo chamber, echoing the man’s dieing pains over and over again.


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## iwatt (Oct 1, 2003)

> Muttering something covered by the silence spells, the paladin drew a knife and cut deep into his own hand. As he stalked out of the room he pressed the knife’s hilt into Marcus’ hand.




A paladin aiding in killing helpless creatures? They are drow though 

It's going to be interesting to see how this affects Myrtrim in the future.
By the way, what kind of half drow is he (half human, or half surface elf?).


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## Wraithdrit (Oct 1, 2003)

He knew what had to be done, but was not about to sanction it, or be involved in it. He cut himself as a bit of penance for what he was allowing to be done. 

Actually he is an Aasimar with drow heritage. Rules wise he is all aasimar, but character wise he has a half drow/half human/half celestial look to him.


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## Wraithdrit (Oct 3, 2003)

Deep Underdark
East of Szith Morcane
Marpenoth 6th, Early Morning

Telinal wrapped the last of his things into his pack and glanced at his traveling companion. “So you really believe in it?”

Tursa glanced up from where she sat lacing up a boot. She studied him a few moments then nodded just once, “Of course. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”

The drow bladesinger stood and picked his sword belt up and slung it over one shoulder. “I don’t know Tursa. I mean, how many prophecies did the Oracle get wrong? Why this one?”

The fey’ri stood and stalked over to look the bladesinger directly in the eyes. “As far as I know the Oracle has never been wrong. You can’t prove anything the Oracle said was ever wrong.”

He frowned, “That’s the problem with prophecies… make them vague enough and eventually someone will prove them right.”

Tursa shook her head and walked away. “It’s not like that. The words may seem general and the situations can seem shoehorned to fit, but you have no idea how much emotion and sight plays into it.”

Telinal narrowed his eyes, “You are close to the Oracle then.”

Tursa nodded and clasped her cloak over her shoulders, “Aye. We should get going, if you are going to make it to Szith Morcane on time we need to get moving.”

The pair finished getting ready and soon stalked quietly through the natural caverns of the Underdark. Telinal often had to scramble up small cliffs and shimmy down shafts to get from passage to passage. Going was a bit easier for the fey’ri. Her wings could easily be folded away under her cloak to keep them out of the way, but a quick flip of the cloth and they were out and propelling her to the next ledge or breaking her fall as she leapt from higher areas. Finally they stopped to take a break.

The bladesinger spoke first, “So how did you know we could get to Szith Morcane through the Elven Court. Not many surface dwellers know of these passages.”

The smile that Tursa gave him was very predatory. “The Oracle told me.”

Telinal shook his head and actually smiled, “Of course.” He was about to leap down to the next ledge down the large cavern they were traversing when a shadow to his left moved. His blade was in his hand in a flash. He spun, his right hand holding his sword, his left ready to make the intricate motions needed to release a spell from memory.

“Kill me not, if you desire to live.” The dark skinned dwarf held a crossbow in his meaty hands. It was pointed at the bladesinger, but Telinal had seen enough duergar in his day to know that it was probably the least of his worries. 

Telinal lifted his hands, “Alright, what do you want?” He glanced over at Tursa. The fey’ri had her hands beneath her cloak and was just watching the duergar.

The grimy little dwarf shuffled forward, “You not supposed to be here. They don’t want others coming, not unless you with the banshee.” It sniffed and shook its head, “I see nothing dead with you, you not with the banshee.”

Telinal shook his head, “Actually I am escorting this woman to see the priestesses.” He nodded at Tursa, “I’m sure they will understand if you detain us though.” 

The duergar looked as if it had been slapped. “We not detain you… we…” It got a better look at Tursa and frowned. “What is she?” He turned to focus the crossbow on her. 

Tursa let her wings flip out from beneath the cloak and spread them to their full width, “That is none of your business, underling… now let us pass.”

The duergar’s eyes widened and he whispered, “Demon-blood…” He licked his lips and looked between the two. His form shuddered a bit and suddenly he began to grow. His little form grew larger and larger, and he shouted, “It’s a Demon-blood! Kill them! Kill them!”

Telinal threw himself at Tursa, throwing them both to the ground as bolts ripped through the where they had stood. The bladesinger came up with one hand already moving in the arcane motions of a spell. His form seemed to blur around the edges, and shifted in random directions every few moments. 

Tursa was also casting. One hand threw forward a several small globes of energy spiraled out to slam into the enlarged duergar. The creature howled and tossed aside his spent crossbow and drew an axe. He strode forward and swung at Telinal, trying to knock him aside to get at the sorceress. 

The axe passed through the false image Telinal’s spell had created and slammed into the ground, sending sparks and chips of stone flying. Telinal’s true blade lashed forward and stabbed once, twice, then a third time. Blood oozed from three different wounds, and the duergar was already swooning. 

The bladesinger was not done with him though. His free hand kept going through arcane motions. Another spell flowed over the drow and his motions got even faster.

The rest of the duergar charged from the shadows at the pair. They spread out and tried to surround the pair. Tursa threw herself into the air, and after flying up a good ways, she muttered a few arcane words. A peashaped ball of fire dropped slowly from her hands, like a single drop of water. Instead of splashing when it hit the stone floor of the cavern, it exploded into a massive ball of flame that enveloped everyone but her. 

The flames ripped through the dwellers of the Underdark. As the flames receded and the light dimmed, Tursa’s keen sight saw that no one had escaped the blast, not even Telinal. Smoke drifted from the drow, and soot charred portions of his dark skin. The pain did nothing to slow him down.

Weaving and dodging through the group of duergar, the bladesinger looked like he was dancing for fun in the middle of a decadent drow noble’s party, not like a master swordsman that was cutting a swathe through his enemy. His motions were fluid and fast, but utterly unhurried. He seemed to know when and how the burned dwarves would attack. He seemed always a step ahead of them. As blades fell on stone, he would step up them and lash out at their wielders. When a meaty hand would swing to bat him away, he flip backwards, lashing out in mid air to send a finger or a whole hand arching away into the darkness.

Fire licked up and down his blade, adding to screams of pain and anger the duergar let out each time he would lash out at them. Tursa smiled, it was almost a beautiful thing to watch the bladesinger work, but then the realization that it was not a dance, but a fight slowly slipped back into her thoughts. She waited for a pair of duergar to get close enough, and let loose with a massive bolt of lightning. It ripped through the pair, dropping both to the stone. 

Telinal faced off with the last of the duergar, the one that had originally stopped them. The huge dwarf held its ground, and waited for Telinal to make his move first. It huffed and puffed, grunting at the pain of its many wounds and burns. Telinal paused and whispered another quick spell. Tursa recognized the spell as one that would make the bladesinger’s next strike as accurate as it possibly could. He already outmatched the creature, what was he planning, she wondered.

Instead of charging, the bladesinger hefted his blade back and threw it. The magic of his spell overcame the many difficulties in using sword as a massive throwing weapon. It struck the middle of the duergar’s chest. He slumped forward, the flames lighting his jerkin and cloak aflame. As he slumped to one side, dead, the bladesinger stepped up and pulled his sword free.

Tursa landed and strode over to where Telinal was wiping his blade off. “Well that confirms my suspicions. He must have made it to the city.”

Telinal nodded, “Aye, but she is still in power, otherwise they would not be patrolling for her. Damn mercenaries.” He kicked the smoldering body of one of the duergar. “Can’t stand them.” He turned his gaze on her. “I would appreciate if you would not catch me in your spells.”

Tursa smirked, “But Telinal, you drow are naturally resistant. Don’t tell me that my magic scares you.” 

Telinal frowned, “Resistant, not immune. Though this does help…” He nodded down at his flaming sword, which he slid into its sheath. “Just don’t, alright?”

The sorceress nodded, “Fine. Lets keep moving… you have somewhere to be.”


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## Nightingale 7 (Oct 4, 2003)

Wait a minute there...A drow bladesinger?!Now there's a race-prestige class pairing I'd never expect to see!I know that the rules allow it,since drow are elves after all,but there is all that fluff saying that Bladesong is an exclusively surface-elven style,and that elves rarely teach it even to half elves,so the chance of a drow learning that technique is virtually non-existant.If this guy has an interesting backstory I'm VERY willing to hear it Wraithdrit!  

PS:Is he a PC or an NPC?


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## Wraithdrit (Oct 5, 2003)

I keep the line between PC and NPC blurred in the story hour on purpose. I want you to learn the characters and not root for the particular heros. But that being said, Telinal is an NPC.

As for the bladesinger being a surface only thing, I was completely unaware of that. I pulled it from Races of Faerun and don't remember that being mentioned. Everything said elf, not surface elf. 

I was mostly inspired by the dancing sequence in the Windwalker Serie's first book. There is a scene where the main character goes to a rave like drow noble party. The dancing is really wild. I thought to my self. Self, if these drow like to dance this much, toss a blade in their hand and you got a bladesinger.

As for Telinal, he is a follower of Vaerun, a very skilled bladesinger and definately has a back story. Whether or not it ever sees light will depend on how long he remains in the story. That of course depends on the players.

I'm really enjoying the character of Tursa. The players are really starting to wonder what is going on with her. Mytrym's player told me today that he reread the entire story hour last night so he could refresh his memory on what she has been involved in.


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## Nightingale 7 (Oct 5, 2003)

I'm not the kind to root only for the PCs.I'll be the first to acknowledge a well made NPC,and I am very interested in the drow bladesinger.

Yes,that scene in Daughter of the Drow is very inspiring,but Bladesong is a predominantly sun-elven and moon-elven technique.Bladesinger schools exist only in big elven settlements,such as Evereska and Evermeet.Elves are VERY reluctant to teach it to even the "outsider" wild and wood elves.Half-elves are almost always refused to be taught,since they aren't full-blooded elves.Drow are NEVER taught Bladesong by the surface elves.

If you frequent the WOTC boards there was a big debate a long time back as to the possibility of drow bladesingers.It can be argued that before the Descent,the Ilythiiri(drow predecessors) lived peacefully with the other elven subraces.They may have known the bladesong style from then,and continue to practice it in the Underdark all the way to the present,albeit in a wicked,twisted form.on the other hand there is no such empirical evidence in the sourcebooks or the novels,and since Corellon Larethian is the patron of bladesingers he might,very possibly,have scoured the bladesong style from the Ilythiiri minds,when he laid upon them the curse that turned them into drow.

Of course I'm not saying all this to discourage you from using that character,but I'm trying to give you a broad perspective,in the off-case that one of your players know that FR lore and showers you with the same questions.Perhaps you could modify his background a bit to explain his bladesinger status


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## Wraithdrit (Oct 6, 2003)

> Bladesinger schools exist only in big elven settlements,such as Evereska and Evermeet.




The Races of Faerun Bladesinger Prestige class specifically states that idea of a bladesinger school is "an absurd notion". I guess they tossed some of the older background material on the Bladesingers out the window.

It also references it being a single master teaching a single student. I was pretty much thinking along the same lines as your explanation above. The art of bladesinger is not something new to elves, and before the drow were forced underground, they too could have known.

Mainly I follow a rule of its not in one of my source materials (mostly all the 3.0 and 3.5 FR stuff) then I don't know about it. I've been following FR since its inception, but am not an FR scholar or anything. I honestly had NO clue that Bladesingers were a surface elf only thing. IF that were the case the race requirement would be like the Elven High Mage which specifically lists the surface races. Also the Races of Faerun lists half-elfs, so again, I'd say they kinda loosened any restrictions they had on it before.

That all being said, its mostly a moot point as they never met him last night. It was a good game, and logs will be going up soon.


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## Wraithdrit (Oct 8, 2003)

The group froze for a moment, listening as the sound echoed through the chamber for brief moments. Then as quickly as they had frozen, they were moving again. Delorian quickly pulled a shadow from the wall stepped through, cloaking himself with invisibility. Marcus ran over to one wall and started walking up it, the magical slippers carrying him easily up the wall. Amador strode across the room, pulling a fresh arrow from his quiver. Plickit found a corner and crouched down, looking up at the nearest door. Mytrym leapt from the floor, his cloak flipping out into large wings that carried him easily up to the first door.

Marcus continued up past the first door to the second door up. He slid one of his rods in place behind the latch and triggered the button on the end of the rod. When he moved his hand back, the rod remained perfectly still, immovable. Marcus grinned and moved quickly toward the highest door and repeated the process.

The others were still watching the other doors, or watching Marcus work. Naria moved up next to Will and he motioned for her to look at the upper doors. She cast a quick spell then shook her head. Neither door radiated magic. Delorian used the second pair of magic slippers and climbed up between the highest two doors. He watched as Marcus blocked them both with the magic rods. 

From somewhere on the third floor, a deep resonating voice cried out in an otherworldly tone, “Solom! Niztaka du minchak! Rerfezitakil nolin zorinti zu!” The companions all looked at each other and shrugged, not knowing what the creature was saying, or where exactly it was.

Their wondering was cut short when three massive wolves appeared within the now tight confines of the tower. Plickit, still able to see invisible, could see past them to a drow mage that had appeared with him. Mytrym spun around and saw the mage as well. Everyone else could not see the invisible drow male. They were more worried about the massive wolves before them anyways. The wolves had dark fur, and dark circles under their bloodshot eyes. Behind their eyes, faint flames could sometimes be seen. 

Will frowned at the sight of the fiendish dire wolves. This was most likely someone’s idea of a distraction. He just hoped that Mytrym and Plickit could see whoever was responsible for their appearance.

Though two of the wolves were right in front of him, Plickit knew that he had to take care of the mage before he began lobbing powerful spells around. When he threw his first wedge both wolves pivoted their heads toward him, growling. As the second wedge was released, both wolves took advantage of the thri-kreen’s ackward stance. The first wolf bit Plickit hard in the leg, then wrenched back, sending the insect sprawling to the ground. The other wolf bit out a moment later, tearing at one of his arms. 

Ignoring the pain and awkward position, Plickit kept throwing the wedges. Wedge after wedge slammed into the wizard, but obviously they were not having as much effect as he would like. He knew the wizard was probably under a stoneskin spell. It would not last long under the assault of his wedges. 

Seeing Plickit go down, Will stepped to one side, muttered a few arcane symbols and sent a massive bolt of lightning arcing through a pair of the wolves. Having seen that Plickit was obviously throwing at something invisible, he made sure the bolt passed through that spot as well. The cry of pain that was let out when the bolt ripped through was quite satisfying to the evoker.

Amador spun and let his hand go from his bow string. He pointed to the back of the large chamber and muttered a few words. Holy energy ripped out of a small rift in the wall, and slammed through the wolves and the wizard they were guarding. 

One of the wolves fell to the side, then disappeared, back to whatever plane it had been summoned from. One of the ones remaining lashed out at Amador. As he launched itself forward blackish green energy poured from its mouth. Its teeth sank deep into Amador’s thigh. He let out a cry, dropped his bow and began pushing at the massive monster’s head, to try and get its teeth out of his thigh. The last remaining wolf pushed in beside the first and snapped out at Amador. He threw up an arm, managing to thump it in the nose before it was able to bite him.

Mytrym dropped down, his wings folding away. He started cutting at the wolves before his feet even touched the floor. His blade shone with holy energy as it arced forward and cut deep into one of the two wolves’ flank. He yanked the blade free and stabbed it deep within the wound, trying to pull the thing away from Amador.

In the doorway, Naria pulled a wand out that Will had given her. She thrust it forward and a pair of globes zipped forth, each spiraling toward one of the wolves. One splashed harmless against the infernal hide of the beast it hit, while the other scorched its way into the side of one wolf’s muzzle, causing it to yalp and pull away.

Regaining his feet, Plickit threw his returning chatka, sending it slamming into one wolf. As the chatka disappeared and reappeared in his hand, the wolf fell to one side and disappeared back to its home plane.

Lifting his crossbow to his shoulder, Will marveled that he had even remembered to load it. But he had, and he was finally going to use it. The string snapped forward as it was released. The bolt slammed through the creatures flank and it too slowly faded back to its home plane.

Mytrym stepped past the disappearing wolves and helped steady Amador. The priest already had a potion out. His hand was shaking as he brought it to his lips and downed it quickly. 

Plickit also pulled a potion from his pack and downed it. The insect warrior was obviously very hurt. He seemed to be having trouble standing well, and Amador quickly jogged over and cast a quick cure spell, covering one of the nasty bites with glowing healing energy.

Not waiting for them to finish, Will began motioning the entire group toward the 2nd level door, the lowest of the doors they had not already been through. 

Mytrym said a quick prayer, and blessed the group. 

Marcus moved down to the door and quickly scanned it. When he shook his head, Mytrym flew up, shoved the door open and landed just within. Quick muttered words from one side of him, caused Mytrym to spin and lift his shield. It made little difference when a pair of rays appeared from one doorway, burning through his shield and armor, scorching him beneath. Whoever cast the spell was invisible, like the last wizard, and quickly pulled back within the room behind the door and slammed the door behind him.

Will, Marcus, and Plickit drew into the hallway quickly. The others stayed in the tower room, guarding the other doors, making sure nothing was about to try and sneak in behind them. As the four in the hall gathered, Will nodded to Mytrym. The paladin kicked open the door, triggering some sort of runic marking hidden on the doorframe. Flames ripped out and burned into the paladin. He softly thanked his celestial heritage, knowing that anyone else would have been far more hurt than him. 

As the door slammed open, Plickit could see that another invisible mage was standing in the back of the room. He was ready with a spell yet again. This time five small globes of energy spiraled out toward Mytrym. At the last moment his brooch of shielding flashed, and sucked the magic missiles in, dissipating them harmlessly. 

As Mytrym raced forward, Plickit began throwing his weapons. They streaked forward, slamming into the wizard, but his enchantments held, and turned away much of the chatka’s damage. 

Mytrym had seen roughly where the missiles had come from, so he swung at that location. It was to no avail though, the blade passed harmlessly through nothing but air. 

Plickit could see that the drow male had ducked to one side and was once again casting. When the spell finished, he disappeared completely. The thri-kreen did not think there was an invisibility spell that could counter the spell that allowed him to see them, so he glanced around before moving in to get his chatkas. He was surprised to see that the wizard had not actually fled, but was instead at the end of the hallway that they now stood in. Plickit through up an arm and pointed, “Over there-tck!” The thri-kreen stepped toward the mage, chatka after chatka once again sailing toward the wizard. Still the man stood, though the last chatka seemed to finally bite as deep as it should and sent the man sprawling to oneside, crying out in pain. The stoneskin had finally failed.

Knowing that there was little he could do in these tight confines against an invisible opponent, Will ducked into the small bed chamber the wizard had been in. He smirked as he saw the spellbook laying open on the desk in front of him. As he snatched it up, flames ripped forth and bathed over him. Will had spent far too much time studying fire for such a simple spell to be very effective against him. The elemental savant closed the spellbook and dropped it into his magical backpack.

Also able to see the wizard thanks to the shade prince’s spells, Marcus advanced on the wizard, lashing out twice with his rapier. The blade cut deep twice, and the wizard began muttering arcane words as Mytrym stepped up and stabbed out at where he thought the wizard was. Marcus saw the paladin’s large sword stab just beneath one of the wizard’s upraised arms. 

The spell complete, the wizard disappeared yet again. Marcus and Plickit both looked all around, including out into the tower room, but to no avail. The drow had gotten away.

The four went to the next two rooms, finding another empty bed chamber that smelled of brimstone and wolf fur, and assumed that the book laying open was the property of the dead wizard laying at the bottom of the tower. 

Will told the others to step back and picked that book up as well. The firetrap on it was a little more powerful and his hands burned a little when it went off, but it was nothing the fire wizard could not handle. He dropped the spellbook into his backpack as well.

There was one door left on that level of the tower, so the four moved toward it. Outside in the tower room, Delorian, Amador and Naria watched the exit of the tower and the upper two doors. They had heard the fighting inside, but after the fight the others had looked out to motion that things were all right. 

Marcus searched the outside of the last door and nodded to the other that it was safe. When Mytrym swung the door open, he found himself staring at a blank wall. Marcus shook his head and leaned in past the paladin. He easily passed his hand through and whispered to Mytrym, “Illusion.”

The paladin and dungeon delver nodded to each other and slipped in past the illusion. The room seemed to be nothing more than a large twenty foot by twenty foot empty room. Marcus frowned and whispered, “This doesn’t make sense, even the abandoned bedroom still had furniture. And if this room was empty, one of the other two would have moved in here.” Suspecting another illusion he felt his way forward slowly.

As Plickit and Will stepped to the doorway, soft arcane words came from one corner, followed by a soothing voice. “You should leave the outpost. There is nothing really here worth your trouble.” Mytrym and Marcus both moved towards the voice, and could see through the illusion that room indeed was another bedroom, and that another wizard stood in one corner. 

Will and Plickit meanwhile glanced at each other, shrugged and turned to walk out. Mytrym glanced back and blinked, confused for a moment.

Marcus could see the wizard now and was walking straight toward him. Mytrym was not able to see the wizard, and was torn between his departing companions and whoever had enchanted them. 

The wizard muttered a couple more arcane words and a dark shape leapt from one of the corners. A thing of nightmares, all claws and scales, it threw itself at Marcus. The dungeon delver yelped and threw up his hands to protect himself and started to dodge to one side. Claws ripped and shredded at him, and the pain was intense. He could feel his heart stopping with fear. His death was at hand.

Another illusion he thought! Shaking his head clear, he growled and stepped forward toward the wizard, blood trailing from the corner of his mouth, “I think not mage.” He thrust his rapier forward, fully extending the attack, the point aimed at the mage’s heart.

The tip of the blade turned and weapon twisted in his hand as yet another stoneskin spell protected their opponent.

Mytrym stepped up beside the rogue and lashed out at where the rogue had been attacking, but the mage was already moving. He dodged out of the way of the paladin’s attack and quickly muttered a few arcane words, disappearing completely. Another mage had gotten away.

In the tower room, Will and Plickit landed near Amador. The cleric had cast a circle of protection on himself while he was waiting for the others, and the moment Will and Plickit entered it, they blinked and shook their heads. 

Naria and Amador stepped up. “What is it?” asked the cleric.

Will frowned, “I think we are supposed to be leaving, but that makes no sense what so ever.”

Plickit nodded, then added, “Made perfect-tck sense a moment-tck ago… now not-tck so.”

The drow woman cast a quick dispelling on the pair, but frowned when it seemed to have no effect, “The enchantment is to difficult for me to counter.”

Amador frowned, “Well as long as you stay within the area of the circle you can not be effected by such enchantments.

Marcus and Mytrym appeared in the doorway above. Marcus was not happy, “He got away too.” He looked a little pale, and a small trickle of blood was oozing from the corner of his mouth, from one nostril and down from his ears. 

A voice broke through their discussion. “Enough of this!” Everyone looked up, but only Plickit and Marcus could see the finely dressed, drow floating at the top of the tower. He wore a circlet atop his head, helping to keep his flowing white hair back, and his shirt was tucked into an ornate pair of bracers. “I am Solom Ned’razak, Archmage of Szith Morcane, master of this tower, and teacher to the young students you have been sparring with.”

Will’s eyebrows shut up under his bangs. Archmage. It could be a bluff, or it could be true, in which case they were in serious trouble.

The archmage floated to one side, never staying long in one particular spot. “While this has been an amusing learning lesson for my students, its cost will become to high if it continues, so it ends. Now.”

The party waited a moment, then Mytrym broke the silence, “I’m Mytrym, of Eilistraee.”

The Archmage did not miss a beat, despite the invoke goddess. “Well met, Mytrym. You and your companions do not belong here. Why have you come?”

Will spoke, “You have been raiding the surface.”

“Not I, young savant. That is the work of the cultists that rule here now.”

Mytrym quickly asked, “You work for them?”

“No. They allow my school to continue, in exchange I provide them arcane spell support.”

Mytrym smiled, “We are here to stop them. They have caused too much trouble already, we plan to make sure they stop, one way or another.”

The archmage chuckled, “Well then it seems we have a common goal. I’d like nothing more than to see them… removed. I tell you what. I will agree not to destroy you, despite your intrusion on my home, if you will divert your hostility towards the cult of Banshee. Once the cult is destroyed, you are free to come and go, but Szith Morcane will be mine to rule. I expect you will be either going home, or continuing on to whomever controls the strings of the puppet that leads the cult here.”

Amador did not like a bit of it, but he knew that to face this mage would be sheer folly. “What do you know of a collection of items of the various races?”

“I know they were not kept here, but continued to cult’s mistresses in the city of Maerimydra. Other than that, I know not.”

“What of a halfling that was killed by the cult?”

“I don’t know what a cult of the dead do with the fallen of their enemy, but I could surely guess. However, I have not seen the one to which you refer. Perhaps he was taken to Maerimydra as well. Now if you would not mind returning the stolen spellbook, you can keep the spellbook of the student you defeated. He won’t be needing it.”

Will smiled and pulled the first spellbook back out. He set it on the ground. “Sure. How about you have your student dispel the enchantment he placed on us?” 

The archmage chuckled. “Of course.” Dropping the immovable rod to the tower base, he opened the highest door of the tower, behind which stood his two surviving students. Nodding to one, the archmage turned to watch the party. The head student muttered a few words and the enchantment was lifted.

The archmage smiled, “Good luck in the temple. You’ll need it.”


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## Wraithdrit (Oct 10, 2003)

*Sunny Glade
Plane of Avandor, Home of the Seldarine
Time Between Times*

Kalan Argin had lived a life full of adventure in the service of his lord, Corellon. After a few hundred years though, the young elf had been cut down in battle with a minotaur lord named Gulgooth. The young cleric had been readily accepted into Avandor, and had served just as faithfully. He was elevated by Corellon to a guardinal of Avandor, and gifted with the huge powerful form of a leonal. It was in this capacity that he now served, protecting the Seldarine, and fighting for justice and peace for all the Seldarine’s people. 

When the prayers came to Corellon for aid in the Underdark, he hand picked Kalan Argin to answer the call. Kalan stepped through the rift to the prime material plane, knowing that he was serving his master. Still he had to wonder what it would be like, returning to Toril after so many lost years. He had a role to play though, and did not have time to sight see.

As he stepped through the glowing light of the portal the leonal let his head fall back and he shook his massive mane and let out a soft growl. The air of the Underdark was just as he remembered from his few times into the underworld in centuries past. It was cool, clammy and even smelled damp. The leonal’s eyes instantly adjusted to his surroundings. A motley crew of adventurers stood staring at him, waiting for him to speak.

So he did. “Greetings mortals! I am Kalan of Avandor. What service to you seek my aid in?” He focused his attention on the elven cleric that had called him.

Amador nodded at the greeting, “Greetings great one. I am Amador, and these are my companions. We seek your aid in destroying a foul temple of the drow.”

“Ah! Spider kissers. We shall rip them limp from unholy limp!” The leonal puffed his massive muscular chest and balled his massive hands into fists, cracking each and every knuckle of his hands in turn. His hands flexed open and his massive claws gleamed in the light of the portal behind him.

A human, Kalan knew his name after a moment, Will Farseeker, stepped forward. “Actually these drow worship the White Banshee, Kiaransalee.” Kalan studied the human a moment as he talked. Interesting, thought the leonal, the bond between the physical and the metaphysical in this one was weakened. Whisps of elemental fire licked through his aura, marking him as one tempting his humanity with elemental taint.

“I see. Well, you have a plan then?” Will nodded, and began to go over the plan.

After a few moments Kalan nodded. He rolled his head back and feathers soon replaced fur. Wings sprouted from his back. Soon his form was that of a griffin. “Let us go then!” He leapt up, snatched up the one called Marcus in his claws and flew out into the chasm. “For Corellan!” 

***

Delorian shook his head as the leonal flew off. He had a bad feeling about this, and the guardinal’s presence did not make things any better. He pulled the shadows near him over his form, cloaking himself in invisibility. Pulling another shadow out into a doorway he stepped through, out onto the web in front of the opening to the cult’s temple. 

Pausing a moment till he saw Amador in place and ready. He pulled a shadow out and formed another doorway. When Amador completed his wall of stone spell, sealing off one of the two exits from the entry area, the monk stepped through the doorway a globe of silence in his hand, ready to smash it on the other exit. This would mask the blast from the coming fireball.

Stepping through a dimensional shadow door had always been a strange feeling. It felt as if your front half was jerked from existence, and pulled to wherever you were stepping to. The pulling sensation seemed to bring the rest of you along for the ride, and then before you knew it, you were standing at your target location.

Not this time. He stepped through the doorway, and nothing happened. The shadow walk had failed. Something had prevented it.

In front of him, flames erupted from the ledge as Will’s empowered fireball cooked the four quth-maren standing in the entry room. As the blast receeded, the monk leapt toward the ledge. If could not shadow step there, he would have to get there the same way the rest of them did.

*** 

Marcus was dropped on the ledge by Kalan and rolled between the surprised and burned quth-maren. The skinned undead never had a chance to respond to the nimble dungeon dweller racing through their midst.

A burning sensation ripped at him as he entered the entry area. Some sort of enchantment was covering the area and tore at his very soul as he forced his way through the room. It hurt badly, but he was able to focus on what he was doing, and push through. He could taste blood in his mouth and feel it running from his ears and nose. He had to fight through it though, so he did.

Concern joined pain in Marcus’ mind when he realized the plan was not going completely as they thought. Where was Delorian with the globe of silence? It did not matter; there were two guards in the next room. He was hoping to catch them off guard. After all he was invisible, Naria had masked him front sight just before they came down.

As Marcus hit the corner he saw the two guards and the prisoner, just as Will had described them. The guards were looking at the wall of stone that blocked their exit one direction, and making hand signals to one another. One turned and raced toward the exit that Marcus was hiding in. Marcus almost felt sorry for the poor guard. He put the thought out of his mind as he waited for the best moment and thrust his rapier into the chest of the unsuspecting guard.

It was as his arm came forward that Marcus realized something was wrong. He could see his own hand. Every time he had been invisible before he could not even see himself. He was visible! The guard had to know he was there. But the guard did not seem to care. He was just trying to run past him. The rapier pierced the guard’s chest, driving deep. Marcus knew the hit was good, and he drove the blade deep, to the hilt, trying to do as much damage as he could. 

The guard did not even miss a step. He shoved past Marcus with ease, ignoring the enchanted rapier sticking through his chest. As he ran past the rapier came loose and Marcus pulled back in horror. The drow guard had growled at him as he went past. Growling while exposing two inch long fangs where his canine teeth should be. 

Marcus saw the other guard coming forward. The guard saw Marcus’ surprise and laughing, his own fangs easily visible. Marcus’ mind raced as he backpedaled. Then he found his voice, “Vampires!”

*** 

Kalan stepped onto the ledge and felt the telltale signs of a forbiddance spell ripping through his form. He ignored the pain and began moving in toward the undead that guarded the room. 

Throwing wedges went whizzing past him as the buried into the quth-maren in front of him. He growled out a challenge and saw the shade monk tumbling in beside him. The paladin, the guardinal, and the monk all stepped forward together, meeting the charge of the quth-maren’s head on. 

Kalan could see that each of his companions were suffering from the forbiddance. Blood ran from ears and noses, wiped away by some. Amador stepped in behind them all and held out his holy symbol, crying out loudly for the undead to feel the wrath of Corellon. 

Kalan knew that this was one of those areas that Corellon’s light would be hard pressed to shine in. He could feel the unholy aura of the area. It stunk like death to his sensitive nose. 

The fight was quick, the quth-maren, though unaffected by Amador’s turn attempt, were no match for the fighting prowess of Kalan, Delorian, Mytrym, and Plickit.

The fire mage Will stepped up behind the line, staring down at the vampire fleeing away toward the back of the temple. Kalan heard Will mutter, “I think not.” At the elemental savants command a massive wall of fire sprang to life down the length of the hall. It cut the second guard off within the guardroom and ripped straight through were the other vampire was running. The vampire tried to continue through. He burst into flames as he dove head first through the mystic wall. Nothing but a misty form came out the other end.

There was momentary pause as the group quickly healed its wounds. Potions were drank, heal spells were cast, and the group was ready to find the other vampire. Kalan and Mytrym swung the corner that was the only safe way into the smaller guardroom. 

Kalan heard a cry from the main room. It was Marcus yelling, “In here!”

He and Mytrym spun around to see a misty form moving along the ceiling. Marcus was lashing out at it with his rapier, and Will was sending an orb of fire into it. When Mytrym joined in, the thing was doomed to stay in mist form. 

Kalan growled out, “Splendid fight! Well done!”

Will came forward, “There are three coffins off the guardroom. We need to smash them.” The group quickly agreed. 

Moments later they stood before the massive double doors that lead into the temple’s inner sanctum. Marcus stopped to search the doors, and found no traps on them. He listened and heard nothing.

A short quiet discussion ensued. Will wanted to cast a daylight spell on Kalan’s belt. Kalan lowered his protective aura and despite the look on Delorian’s face and his voicing the opinion that he would be no good to the group in the area of the spell, it was cast. Delorian turned away from the light and covered his eyes. The others looked to the doors. Mytrym kicked them open and he and Kalan moved in. The chamber was massive, and held an altar near one wall. A door led out of each of the two far corners. One of the doors was cracked open. Kalan loped toward it and kicked it open, daylight streaming into the hallway beyond. Another vampire guard stood in the hallway, he was stumbling back and rubbing at his eyes, obviously having just been blinded by the light.

Kalan glanced back as he heard the others cry out. His daylight spell was not passing beyond his own protective sphere in the back. From either of the front corners of the room, massive globes of darkness moved forward, dissolving the light away as the spells countered each other. In the center of the darkness globes, a pair of driders was advancing. The fight was on once again.


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## Wraithdrit (Oct 14, 2003)

The rest of the group had moved off down the corridor. They were out of earshot when Naria stepped into the guardroom. A simple glamour had her appearance shifted to that of a follower of Lolth. Thin spiderweb designs covered her slender shoulders and arms, wrapping down around the base of her fingers. Her torso was covered by tight black leather, with a white spider etched into it. Loose layers of cloth flowed down around her waist, letting her legs move freely as she walked. Her feet were encased in high black leather boots that came up past her knee. Glimpses of bare black thigh flashed between the layers of her skirt as she strode toward the woman chained to the wall.

Will had seen her when his arcane eye had explored the area. He was not sure if she was alive, but suspected she was, otherwise, why the guards? He had approached Naria with the idea to disguise herself as a worshipper of Lolth, in order to gain the trust of this woman. Naria just hoped that she was indeed a follower of Lolth, or the whole ruse would be for nothing.

Naria let all expression slide from her face and placed a pair of fingers under the prisoner’s chin. She lifted the prisoner’s head to look her in the eyes, studying to see if there was any life in her eyes at all. “Do you live?”

The prisoner shuddered, and her eyes seemed to come into focus. She quickly scanned the area and then studied Naria. “By Lolth, its true… free me, arm me, and I will aid you in the fight!”

Naria smiled and drew back, shaking her head, “No… you could be under their control.”

The prisoner yanked at her chains, “I swear I am not. Give me a blade and I’ll gut every last one of the banshee’s followers!” 

“Easy… what’s your name?” Naria pulled her water skin out and offered it up to the prisoner’s lips. 

After the prisoner had taken a few long gulps of the water, she pulled back and answered, “Dessa Sik-Morcane, priestess of Lolth… release me and I will bring her fury to the banshee cult with a vengence.” Again she yanked on the chains. Naria saw little trickles of blood from her wrists. She was strong, but the chains were stronger. She just might really hurt herself trying to escape.

“Sik-Morcane? Married into power?” She studied the Lolth priestess. She had asked for a sword, she was more than just a priestess of Lolth, no her frame was too rugid, her bearing was not noble, but the strength of her will was obvious. She was probably an accomplished warrior. Perhaps it was for that reason that she had not yet been but beneath the knife of whoever had created the flayed quth-maren that they had been fighting so far.

Dessa nodded quickly, “It was the fastest way to get into the priesthood.” Naria nodded, often lesser-born drow were not accepted into the priesthood, so many ambitious non-noble drow females married into minor noble families just for the honor of attending the priesthood. Dessa started looking around. “Where are the guards… your people… they killed them.” She sniffed, “I saw them… surface dwellers… why?”

Naria cut her off. “Mercenaries… are forces are spread thin. Our coin spends well in surface cities.” Naria hoped the ruse would work. To cement it, she changed the subject. “How many cultists are there? How many are in the inner sanctum?”

Dessa shrugged, “I do not know… they were few, but powerful… I saw three priestesses, and… a dark warrior. He was strong, and had a displacer beast with him. I don’t know where the beast came from, but the two of them were all over me, there was nothing I could do. Now, release me so that I might aid you.”

Naria shook her head, “No… you are too weak and would take too much healing to be anything but a liability to us. I’ll be back for you.”

The woman seemed to snap, she yanked hard at the chains and yelled out, “Stupid whore! Release me this instant! Release me, I demand my vengence! Release-“

Naria smashed her knee into the enraged warrior’s temple. Her eyes rolled back in her head, then snapped forward. 

“I said, release me! Fool!”

The sorceress shook her head and growled, “Go… down!” She slammed her fist and knee into the warrior’s head again and again till finally Dessa slumped to the ground, hanging from the manacles, her wrists bleeding along with her nose and lips.

Naria cursed softly and turned to walk away. She shook her right hand, trying to get feeling back into them. She looked down at the spattering of blood on her illusionary clothes. The anger, the fighting, the clothes, the charade was all hitting way to close to home. She quickly dispelled the image and tried to recompose herself. She strode up to the group, where they waited just around the corner. 

Will stepped forward, “Well?”

Naria reported what she was told. “At least three priestesses, a dark warrior of some sort, and a displacer beast. The warrior and his beast are what took her out of the battle for the temple.”

Delorian spoke up, “We have some displacer beasts in the City. They are hard to train, but those that survive the process are highly prized by my people for their hunting and guarding ability.”

Marcus looked around, “Just three priestesses? I thought this was a big cult?”

Mytrym shook his head, “I think this may just be a small part of greater evil.”

Plickit cocked his head to one side. “Lets do it-tck.”

Kalan looked between them all. “Careful my new found friends I sense much evil here. These four you seek are indeed powerful if they are the cause.”


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## Wraithdrit (Oct 27, 2003)

The gloom of the deeper darkness spells overlapped over the bright globe around Kalan. While the gloom could not penetrate the protective barrier around Kalan, the area outside of the barrier was plunged into darkness. Plickit skittered out into the middle of the room, using the shadowy darkness to help conceal his movements. When he got there, he stopped and peered around, trying to locate the drider in the darkness.

Mytrym spun beside Kalan, looking back at the drider descending from the corner of the room. Leaping into the air the paladin cried out, his cloak forming into wings to send him aloft. As he closed on the drider he could see that a rippling globe of magic protected the monster. Mytrym had faced plenty of driders in his time, but this one was different. Instead of the fang like teeth most drider had, this one had disgusting mandibles jutting out of his mouth, monstrous teeth and four impossibly long canine teeth. That combined with the drider’s pale skin made Mytrym sure that this drider had succumbed to the vampires as well.

Kalan chuckled as the vampiric guard backed down the corridor, rubbing at his eyes. The leonal lifted one hand and called a sheer wall of force into existence between him and the vampire. Confident that it would keep the guard out of the fight, he turned to look back at where the driders were. A few bounding steps took the leonal within reach of the closest drider.

As the celestial got close to the drider his bubble of protection enveloped the monster and all the drider’s magical enhancement spells began to flicker and fail. The vampiric drider angrily lashed out at the celestial, slamming him with one hand. Kalan grunted at the force of the attack, but was able to resist the sucking pull of the dark energy that fueled the vampire’s touch.

Meanwhile, the other drider pointed towards Plickit and cast a quick spell to try and hold the insectoid ranger. Plickit hardly noticed the spell, the protection from evil that had been cast on him, easily protecting his mind from intrusion by the drider’s spell.

Delorian rolled into the room, and lashed out at the spellcasting drider, but the drider’s protections were too powerful. The monk rolled back from the beasts reach, knowing to stay in combat with a vampire was foolish at best.

Amador strode in between the two combats, and pulled forth his holy symbol. As he stepped into the room, he could feel that there was a dark presence here. The room was some sort of temple, and evil energy had been concentrated on the altar. He lifted his holy symbol high and called upon the power of his god. Though light began to project from his holy symbol, it did not reach far enough through the gloom of the room, and did not effect the twin driders at all.

Backpedaling away from the drider that had tried to enchant him, Plickit began to throw chatckas at the undead fiend. The enchantments protecting the drider were just too powerful though, and all but one of the throwing wedges failed to connect. Even as the one throwing wedge that did hit fell from the moving beast, the wound was already closing.

From the doorway, a flaming crossbow bolt, fired by Marcus, ripped into the same drider, sizzling as it impacted. The drider turned that direction and started forward, then saw Amador standing with his holy symbol held high. A look of rage crossed the beast’s face, and it ran forward smashing one fist into Amador. The cleric cried out in pain as his life force started to drain from his body. He stumbled back, weakened from the dark blow.

Meanwhile the trio of combatants locked in combat in the other corner continued to do their best to rip each other limb from limb. Mytrym was not able to connect, but his swings definitely got the attention of the drider. As it pulled to one side, Kalan clawed it, yanking it into his hug bear like hug. The drider was quickly pulled in, despite its size, and sensing the strength of the mighty leonal, the drider shivered and exploded into a misty form that blew around the other combatants.

Again Delorian zipped into to meet the other drider. The monster’s protections were still too strong though, so the monk vaulted back, landing behind the altar. 

Coughing and sputtering in pain, Amador looked up at the drider nearly on top of him. He raised his holy symbol, practically between the drider’s huge mandibles, and cried out for his god’s wrath once again. This time the vampire threw up his hands and began retreating from the light of the holy symbol.

Rolling over to the corner where his chatka’s lay, Plickit snatched a particular one up and spun, sending it ripping through the gaseous vampire. As the magical weapon sliced through the gas, trails of gas followed it and the entire mist seemed to ripple. 

Seeing the effect the weapon had on the gaseous vampire, and that the other one was fleeing, Mytrym leapt up, his wings carrying to the mist. His bastard sword arced twice through the mist cutting huge swathes of the mist away. 

Kalan narrowed his eyes and assessed the situation. He lifted a hand a small gout of flame flew forward. When it impacted the back of the room it exploded in a large fireball, enveloping the single turned vampiric drider. As the flames cleared it was obviously the fireball had done little damage.

The gaseous drider floated to beside Delorian, then turned solid. It reared back to lash out at the monk, but Delorian was not about to stick around. He leapt up, kicking the drider in the chest, and using it as a platform to leap back. When he landed, he rolled to one side, toward where the rest of the party stood.

Will had watched most of the fight from the doorway. The opportunity he had been waiting for finally arrived. Both driders were on one side of the massive chamber and his friends were all on the other side. He grinned and began a quick and familiar spell. As the pea shaped ball of fire arced toward the other side of the room the elemental savant muttered to no one in particular, “You might find this a little harder to resist.” The room shook with the explosive force of the blast. Heat enveloped the entire group, the sort of heat that pure elemental fire exudes. When the flash cleared, one drider had been forced into mist, and the other was quickly fleeing from the group.

It never made it to the door. The group ran it down and forced it to mist form as well. Both driders were headed to large webbing nests in the corners of the room, nests that were soon destroyed by the heroes.

Will strode into the room and nodded toward the wall of force blocking the way into the inner temple, “How long till it drops?”

Kalan shrugged, “Any moment.”

Marcus nodded at Kalan. “The guard got away… they know about him now.”

Amador stepped up and nodded, “I still have a dismiss prepared, when they try to dismiss him, I will attempt to counter their spell.”

Will nodded and a moment later the wall of force disappeared. “Lets go.”

The group quickly moved down the hall. There was a doorway, halfway down on the left. Mytrym strode forward with Kalan, but noticed at the end of the hall that there was a drow woman peering around the corner at them. He nudged Kalan and the leonal nodded and threw up a wall of force between the doorway and the end of the hall. The drow quickly pulled back from the corner, and the group stepped through the open doorway.

Behind it they found a trio of bedchambers, two of which were obviously being used by the cult. Small altars had been set up, with brazier, incense and various religious fetishes sprinkled atop. Marcus moved from room to room, quickly looking for anything they might need in the coming fight. Though he did not find anything particularly useful he did recover some valuables. The markings on the coin denoted them as from the dales, probably stolen in the latest raids. Marcus turned to the others and showed them, “We found the ones raiding the surface.”

Mytrym frowned, “My people should be living on the surface, not attacking it. We must put an end to this.” Everyone nodded and the group prepared to move down the hall further.

Kalan was watching the hallway. When the wall of force fell he and Amador strode around the corner. The drow at the end of the corner peered out and it was obvious that she was a priestess of Kiaransalee. Worse, she had taken a drider form. She quickly began to cast a spell.

Amador tried to follow the intricate patterns of the spell, but he just couldn’t make out the words the drow was saying, or the symbols she was using.

Kalan felt the energy of the dismissal bathe over him, trying to force him away to his home plane. Amador shook his head, too late to call forth his dismissal to counter the spell.


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## Wraithdrit (Oct 31, 2003)

Kalan shuddered then seemed to pulse with energy as his natural resistance to spells prevented the magic from pulling him back to his own plane. He chuckled and pointed at the drider formed priestess, “You’ll have to do better than that!” He bounded toward her.

The group surged forward with the Leonal, spreading out along the corridor. Amador stopped to cast a quick prayer upon himself, giving him the strength of the gods. Mytrym threw himself at the priestess, hacking at her large spider like body. Kalan was all over the priestess, his claws raking into her form. Plickit’s chatckas whizzed past the priestess, barely missing her.

Everyone followed except for Delorian. The monk watched the light slip around the corner and sighed in relief as he the darkness around him held him in its embrace. He glanced around the corner, and saw the light bathing over the other combatants. He watched from there, safe within the darkness, knowing that the light would give the drow pause he let it burn bright around the Leonal, choosing to stay out of the fight rather than dim the light and join the fray.

The priestess quickly backed down the hallway, retreating from the forward rushing heroes. As she backed around another corner, she fled into a massive chamber through a pair of double doors. 

As Kalan led the others forward he noticed a side door to the left of the corner. He quickly stopped and summoned forth another wall of force. “That should protect that flank for a while.” As he turned toward the large chamber he stopped and growled low within his throat. 

The chamber before them was very large, with dangling chains hanging from the ceiling in many different places. Large hooks were attached to the ends of the chains and bodies dangled, impaled on the hooks. Piles of bones lay about the room, with four of them having massive bull skulls laid atop of them. In the center of the room a large pillar stood to about halfway up the height of the room. Atop it sat a throne that held the relaxed form of a drow priestess. This one was not in drider form like the other, and she was dangling a wicked looking mace from one hand. She seemed bored with the proceedings and waiting on things to heat up.

Words of power were chanted from somewhere inside the room and the entire room seemed to start moving. Piles of bones rattled as massive forms animated. Chains clinked as bodies freed themselves from the ugly hooks and began to shamble toward the door. A second drider priestess moved out from one corner and both driders began to cast spells. Bolts of searing light lanced out at Kalan. Energy from another dismiss spell began to simmer around him as well. Again both spells just washed away off his natural spell resistance.

Amador spun around the corner and stopped a moment, taken back by the sight of all the living dead moving forward. “You shall not escape your grave.” He threw up his hands and muttered soft prayers to his god. Whirling blades of force began to rip through the front of the room. The barrier of blades easily cut apart several zombies, and forced the driders to slip to either side of the barrier. 

Kalan also held up a hand, a ball of fire shooting forth and exploding within the room. Bones and flesh charred and splattered about the room, leaving the large multiarmed minotaur skeletons, the driders, and the high priestess of Kiaransalee visible within the room.

More chanting from somewhere within the room and a second blade barrier materialized, this time right along the hallway the heroes stood within. Plickit, Amador, Kalan, Marcus and Mytrym were all fast enough to step out before the blades started to whirl, and Delorian was around the corner and thus not in danger. The sole creature caught within the blades when they started to whirl was Plickit’s jackal. The dog like animal yelped as the blades ripped through it. 

Plickit turned in time to see his pet ripped apart. His head cocked to one side, watching a moment then spun to look into the room. All four arms flipped up, chatckas in each hand. 

The drider between the two barriers was trapped with Mytrym in reach. She lashed out at him, but the paladin had been waiting for her. He stabbed deep into her stomach and twisted his sword. Her dagger lashed out, acid dripping from its blade. The paladin was too fast though, and his shield easily blocked the strike.

The other drider lifted her hands and quickly dispelled Amador’s barrier of blades. She moved toward the combat, growling softly.

Kalan stepped through the blade barrier like it was not even there. The blades bounced harmlessly off his form, not able to affect him at all. He lifted his hand and another ball of fire rolled forth. This time the minotaurs went down as well, leaving only the three priestesses left.

Arrows streaked through the remaining barrier, fired from Amador’s bow. The blades knocked into the arrows in mid flight, and deflected them harmlessly away.

More chanting came from somewhere within the chamber, and a massive column of flame erupted around the core of the heroes. Everyone but Delorian was burned, some worse than others. 

One of the priestesses tried to cast a spell that Will recognized would kill Mytrym with merely a touch. Will had been waiting for either of them to cast though, and he quickly released a series of fire orbs at the caster. She stumbled as the balls of flame slammed into her and the spell was disrupted.

Mytrym and Plickit continued to press their assault on the other priestess. Plickit’s throwing wedges followed Mytrym’s blade. The priestess was quickly losing ground to them. Plickit was trapped behind the blade barrier, but his throwing was accurate enough that a few of the wedges hit their intended target.

Reeling from the attacks the drider formed priestess slipped to one side and unleashed her own column of flame on the group. When the flames cleared, Amador slumped to the ground and did not get up.

Kalan grabbed at the offending priestess and turned, easily tossing her into the blade barrier. The mystic blades sliced her into bloddy chunks before she was able to even get her feet under her.

All along the priestess on the throne seemed to just sit and watch. Finally the deception was revealed as the column shimmered and a form walked out of the middle of it. It had been an illusion all along. From within the column the high priestess had easily and safely cast several spells. Now she stepped forward, thrusting a silver holy symbol of Kiransalee out where Kalan could see it. “Be gone from this plane, celestial!” 

Kalan shuddered as the mystic energy surrounded him. This time it was much harder to resist. It pulled on him, and all he could focus on was the silvery holy symbol in front of him. He growled low, “I have a job to do still.” He shuddered and fell to one knee. His spell resistance was failing; he thought he could see the green leaves of his home plane around him. He hoped in his absence the group would be all right.

Amador lay bleeding, trapped behind the barrier with Delorian, Will, Marcus and Plickit. Mytrym was alone on the other side with Kalan and the enemy, and things did not look good for the celestial. As the high priestess cackled out her glee at her spell’s power, her head fell back and her mouth opened to reveal massive fangs. They had finally found the head vampire, or perhaps she had found them.


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## Wraithdrit (Nov 10, 2003)

With a mighty roar Kalan shrugged off the magic of the banishment spell. His mane flew about his head as he shook with anger. His roar echoing from the walls of the chamber he stilled and lowered his head to look at the dark priestess. His hands clenched into mighty fists, his knuckles cracking as his muscles tightened. “Time to die, vampire.”

From one corner of the room, hidden behind the doors leapt another vampire, it was the guard they had seen earlier. He leapt forward, his rapier lashing out at Kalan. The mighty celestial threw up one hand and slapped the blade aside, stalking toward the priestess.

Back behind the blade barrier, Plickit and Marcus both pulled potions from their packs. Plickit bent down and quickly administered his potion to Amador. The priest’s eyes fluttered open and he groaned through burnt lips. Marcus downed his own potion, leaning heavily on the wall of force that separated him from the other door. 

As he finished the potion he glanced through the wall of force. The door on the other side had been smashed in. It was laying against the wall of force. Marcus frowned. The wall of force would only be there a few more seconds. Quickly he tossed the empty potion bottle over his shoulder and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. The bottle smashed into a thousand glass shards that disintegrated in the blade barrier.

Marcus reached behind his back, beneath his cloak and spun out the two rods that were stored there. He set them both against the wall of force, one about chest high, the other about knee high. Clicking the buttons at the end they rods stayed in place as he pulled his hands back. That would slow down whoever was trying to get through the door.

The drider priestess that was left pulled back a moment and cast a deadly prayer. Black energy boiled from her fingertips as she lunged forward and touched Kalan as he went by. The celestial easily shrugged off the deadly spell and kept stalking toward his intended target.

Mytrym and Amador were tending to wounds, the paladin using his laying on of hands, and the priest using one of his last prepared prayers.

As Kalan strode forward, the guard continued to try and prevent him from reaching the high priestess. The celestial spoke a soft prayer, and his hand started to glow with a powerful healing spell. He leapt forward and grabbed the vampire guard by the throat. The powerful positive energy flowed into the vampire guard, causing him to convulse. His skin cracked as the energy flowed into him and when the spell was spent, the vampire was easily discarded to one side by the strong celestial. As the vampire landed hard on the ground it barely moved. But move it did, and it started to stand.

The high priestess strode up, the same dark prayer of slaying the others had cast rolling from her lips. Midway through her sentence several streaking orbs of fire ripped through the blade barrier. Will had been waiting for her to try and cast again and had held a spell ready to answer her. Growling at the pain, the angered high priestess shot a glare at the mage, her spell interrupted.

Back behind the battle, Delorian grabbed a handful of shadow and tried to pull it across himself to enter the plane of shadow. The shadows pulled easily at his command, but after they were pulled over him, he still stood in the material plane. He was still prevented from shadowstepping.

He could hear the sounds of the battle, but the blade barrier was preventing him from getting anywhere near even those cut off from the main battle. As he watched the door leaning on the wall of force was slammed into again. It fell back, revealing a figure in black armor. Behind it, a massive displacer beast stalked. Its tentacles were already probing the wall of force, trying to find a way through.

Delorian frowned, the light was still to great, but if he could not shadowstep past it, perhaps he could get rid of it. He had to get into the fight now. Concentrating he willed the shadows of the area to surround and overcome the light coming from the celestial. Slowly the shadows responded, and the light dimmed to a fraction of intensity than it was before. 

Watching the barrier closely, the monk set himself then leapt through the whirling blades. The first blade caught him in mid flip, and spun him to one side. Pulled from his acrobatic move, several more blades sliced into him. He twisted in pain and finally spun free of the barrier. He landed hard against the wall behind the barrier, a small five-foot channel between the wall and the barrier giving him access to the door. The wall of force was still in place, but it could not last for long. Pulling himself from the wall and ground, the monk concentrated for a moment and let his body mend itself. He would be no use in fighting the dark elf warrior if he was half dead when he got there.

Meanwhile the drider priestess and Mytrym locked into battle once again. The drider’s acid dripping dagger flashed out over and over, but Mytrym’s armor was just too hard, his shield was always in the way, and he was lashing out with his bastard sword, the reach of which was far greater than her small dagger. Still Mytrym could not find a good angle to hit the drider either. As he fought, arrows from Amador’s bow flashed through the barrier. One was cut up in mid flight, but the other ripped past the drider, barely missing. 

Kalan strode toward the high priestess. She lifted a massive mace, and stepped up to meet the mighty celestial. Kalan stopped a step back and let loose with a might roar. The shockwave of sound hit the priestess, but she seemed to shrug it off. Stepping the last step up, she lashed out with her mace, slamming into the celestial multiple times. 

Kalan fought back, but the priestess was well armored and fast. She had reach on him, her mace smashing into him again while he could not get a single claw to connect. The celestial had seen enough. He stepped even closer, letting the mace smash him as he grabbed the vampire priestess up in his massive arms in a bear hug. The vampire writhed, trying to get to a position to bite the celestial. 

Mytrym finally connected against the other priestess. She looked like she could take the hits all day though, her large drider body fueling her strength. 

Plickit looked between the priestess and paladin and knew that Mytrym needed help. His chatckas were laying on the other side of the blade barrier though. He looked down at his blades and squared himself. His long insectoid legs bent then sprung him forward. The blade barrier cut deep into him, but he was through it before he could take too much damage. 

Landing amid his blades he bent down and started snatching them up. As he grabbed them up he flung them out at the drider priestess. Blade after blade bit into her. She tried to spin away, and dodge, but the thrikreen ranger was far too fast for her. Though a couple of chatckas flew wide, most sunk deep into her. Finally she slumped to the ground, her eyes staring blankly ahead, a single chatcka imbedded in her forehead.

Kalan began walking back toward the rest of the group, hauling the writhing vampiress in his arms. Mytrym stepped up and swung his bastard sword in a wide arc. As he swung, holy energy enveloped the blade. The paladin sliced deep into the vampiress, then backed away to give room for the celestial to continue to haul her back.

Plickit flipped up one hand, his magically reappearing chatcka readied. He threw it into the vampire’s flank, but it did not penetrate deep enough to cause any harm. It blinked out of existence and reappeared in his hand once again.

The two mighty creatures continued to wrestle for control but Kalan was just too massive. Mytrym kept stabbing at the vampire, till Kalan turned and backed into the blade barrier. The blades spun around the celestial, failing to hurt it at all. The vampire priestess was not so lucky. She shrieked in pain as the blades sliced into her over and over again. 

Finally her screams ended and her form dissolved into gas. She started slowly drifting across the chamber, toward the back of the chamber. 

Then the wall of force fell. Will immediately unleashed a ball of fire into the room. It exploded with an intensity that only a well-versed fire mage could master. The dark warrior did not seem amused. A crossbow bolt buried into his shoulder, as Marcus fired and backed down the small five foot corridor between the wall and the blade barrier.

Caught standing in the doorway, Amador lashed out with his sword, then backed off quickly. Delorian stepped into place in front of the door.

Though the rods kept the two from moving at each other. The dark warrior and the monk locked into combat quickly. The warrior carried a dire flail, its ends spinning and smashing anything they contacted. Delorian was protected by a powerful enchantment that turned his skin to a stone like hardness. 

Meanwhile, Plickit and Kalan raced after the gaseous priestess. She moved slowly in gaseous form, and they quickly passed her. Plickit found a small hole in the back wall and quickly plugged it. Kalan spun and threw a wall of force up between them and the gas. They knew they had to prevent her from getting into her coffin, and it was probably through the small hole.

Plickit looked at Kalan and frowned. “Can we break-tck through the wall?” He unplugged the hole and looked in, it looked fairly deep. “Looks deep… hard digging-tck.”

Kalan shook his head, “I have a better idea.” He shuddered and his form started to melt away. Soon he was nothing more than a blob of goo. The goo snaked a long psuedopod out and into the whole. Soon the entire puddle of goo was pulse and pumping into the whole. After a few moments, the celestial was gone, through the hole, on its way to destroy the last hope of the vampire head priestess had of returning to life.

Back at the fight, the fireball had really taken a lot out of the blackguard, and he quickly fell to the many strikes of the shade monk. That only seemed to anger the blackguard’s massive fiendish displacer beast pet. The thing stomped forward and lashed out with its tentacles. Again and again its tentacles bounced off Delorian’s enchantment, chipping away chunks of stone as the two fought. 

Arrows flew through the doorway, shot by Marcus, Mytrym, and Amador. Some hit, others missed. And still the twin dark creatures battled on. Delorian could feel the enchantment weakening. His limbs were starting to get heavy with the exertion of fighting. The huge beast just seemed to have no end of energy, its tentacles lashing out again and again. 

Finally the beast slammed its tentacles into the monk, and the stoneskin enchantment fell away to nothingness. The monk stumbled back, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Marcus and Amador sent another bolt and arrow into the creatures hide. It shuddered, and then slumped to the ground. Its tentacles twitched, then they too lowered to the ground and stopped moving. With a heavy sigh, the massive displacer beast let out its last breath.

The group all slumped down against walls, or propped on each other. The carnage around them was immense. Bloated drider bodies bled out across the stark white bones of skeletal warriors. Charred remains, blasted into twisted lumps of their former selves lay scattered about the massive inner chamber of the temple. Finally the blade barrier disappeared into nothingness and the group gathered together.

Kalan looked at those around him and nodded slowly. “My task here is complete.” He collected his payment and turned to regard Amador. “I found this with the rest of the baubles the vampire had collected. He held out a small golden crown. “There was a note with it. She was to have it delivered immediately. Her body reformed at the destroyed coffin, and I found this letter on her as well.” He handed the letter to Will. 

Amador looked down at the golden crown. Its make was definitely elven. It was lightly stained with blood. Amador knew without a doubt that the blood was that of his friend. A friend he had buried a month earlier. A friend he had sworn to avenge. 

He looked up to Kalan and said, “Thank you my friend, I will not forget your aid.”

The celestial nodded and replied, “You are most welcome, animal-friend. Call on me again when you have the need. Now, I need to get back to His service.”

Amador nodded and the celestial turned to quickly move off. When he was clear of the forbiddance spell that held the temple firmly linked to the material plane, the mighty celestial leapt into the air and disappeared in a flash, back to his home plane.

Will stepped up to Amador and said softly, “Its what you were looking for?” He motioned at the crown.

Amador nodded quietly, “Aye. And it needs returning to its proper owner.”

“Of course, where is that? We can help you get it there.”

Amador shook his head, “You can not go were I go.  The crown must be taken to Evermeet.” He turned to all of them. “I am afraid this is were I must depart your company.”

Plickit cocked his head to one side, but said nothing. Delorian frowned ever so slightly but said nothing as well. Marcus turned away and found something else to occupy his hands with. He started looting the dead, knowing that as a newcomer to the group he had little to say to the priest.

Mytrym nodded and spoke first, “Our way ahead is dangerous, and I am sure it would be even more dangerous if that crown were to fall in there hands. Go with speed, my friend, and may your god watch over you.”

Will spoke again at last. He sighed a little then said, “Our way ahead will be most difficult without a priest, but I know that you must do what you must. At least travel with us back to Dagger Falls and get rested up before you leave.”

Amador nodded. 

Mytrym spoke up then, “I’m not going back to Dagger Falls with you.” The entire group turned to look at the paladin. “I have far too much work to do here.” 

Will nodded, “You will be staying here with Naria then when we proceed?”

Mytrym nodded, “I fear I must. I cannot ignore the plight of the many drow here. If Eilistraee’s will is to be done, it has to start somewhere, I see no reason why it should not start here.”

Marcus frowned, “But what of the city these drow came from?”

Mytrym shrugged, “You must learn to crawl before you walk. This is where the drow of the Underdark will learn to crawl. Perhaps then one day they will be able to walk on the surface.”

The group gathered their things and began for the surface without two of their companions. Amador strode along away from the others, quiet in his own thoughts.

Will and Marcus were talking, Delorian and Plickit flanked them, listening, but not adding much.

“When we are done resting up in Dagger Falls we can teleport to a larger city, like Saerloon. There we can hire some extra help, and buy supplies.” Will was eagerly anticipating getting some extra spells for his repertoire. 

Marcus nodded, “Sounds good. Did you read the letter yet?”

Will frowned and then nodded, “Yes.” He pulled it out and handed it to Marcus.

Marcus read it out loud to others.

“Daughter:

“Our Dark Lady favors my efforts, and my research proceeds well. Within five tendays, perhaps six, all will be ready for the Day of Great Vengeance. The Spider Queen is dead; we have already brought low the Spider-kissers and seized our rightful place in the realms of the dark. Now the Day draws near when we shall avenge ourselves upon those of the day-blasted lands, too, and achieve that ultimate triumph denied us so long ago.

“While I prepare my Great Revenance, it falls to you to make ready the way. Harry the surface-dwellers, hunt them in their woods and fields, and take the measure of their strength. Do not concern yourself with putting them on guard; our Lady desires their blood, their fear, and their dreadful anticipation of our ultimate act of revenge. With each slaying we grow in her favor and sow the seeds of our coming victory.

“If they come against you in Szith Morcane in irresistible strength, slay as many as you can. Withdraw from the fight if you must, and bring Zedarr with you, but as for the rest- they are to stand and die for the glory of the White Banshee. The battle for Szith Morcane will come to nothing when our Great Revenance comes to pass. If anything, our final vengeance is made ever sweeter by each fleeting, false hope our enemies entertain before it falls upon them.

“Work great slaughter for our Lady’s dark glory, my daughter. Soon I will come to you from Maerimydra with such dark and terrible might that all of Faerun will tremble before us.

“Mother.” Marcus rolled the letter closed and swallowed hard. “Five or six tendays it is then.”

Will shook his head, “Less. The letter had to get from Maerimydra to Szith Morcane.”

Delorian frowned, “How long would that take?”

Will looked over, “Your guess is as good as mine.” He pulled out a map and unrolled it. “This is the map we found in the blackguard’s quarters. It shows the way to the city… but there is no official scale. Here it shows the distance between the two entrances of this massive lake.”

Delorian nodded, “That says 17 miles. Our entire trip then is what… 150 miles?”

Will nodded, “Assuming passable terrain. He looked at Plickit. How fast can we travel down there?”

Plickit thought for a moment. “Without the paladin in armor to slow us down… we could probably make 12 miles a day.”

Marcus did the math quickly. “That’s at least a ten day.”

Will nodded, “Plus about that time to prepare before we go. Leaves us somewhere between 2 or 3 tendays to stop the Day of Great Vengeance.” 

Marcus chuckled nervously. “No pressure, eh?”


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## Stone Angel (Nov 11, 2003)

I just started reading this thread and I am smitten. *Can't stop, don't wanna* This is great, keep it up


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## Wraithdrit (Nov 11, 2003)

Stone Angel,

Thanks for the praise. We just finished playing this evening. It was entirely a build up/gather info/recuit/buy and sell loot, but was great RP and revealed a few new interesting twists. Look for updates within the next couple of days. Also character sheets were added to my web page, so you can see the stats of the heroes by going there. The link is in my sig.

- Wraith


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## Wraithdrit (Nov 11, 2003)

To all readers of Wraith's Whispers:

The above update takes us to the end of 'Act I'. 'Act II' started during tonight's session and introduced a new player and a new character.

I would encourage feedback on what has happened so far, on the characters, on the plot twists or anything else. I welcome discussion about anything except for spoilers for the module (obviously this is an ongoing campaign and the logs are completed before the next session, so the players are only slightly ahead of what you are reading). 

So, coming soon, Act II of Wraith's Whispers. Hope you have enjoyed everything so far, and stay along for the rough ride into the Underdark as the heroes try to stop the Great Revenance.

- Wraith


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## Wraithdrit (Nov 17, 2003)

*Act II
Into the Darkness
Chapter 1*

*Wooded Path
Just Outside of Dagger Falls
Marpenoth 7th, 1372, Early Morning*

Marcus jogged up to beside Plickit. He had been following behind him since they left Dagger Falls, but the time had come to find out where they were going. The other two remaining members of the group had stayed behind. Will was busy with working on his spell books, and Delorian had been pointedly not invited to come along.

Not that Marcus really thought his invitation to accompany Plickit had been all that charismatic. Plickit had given him the Thri-kreen version of a point and grunt. It was more of a point and click. The insectoid ranger had just clacked his mandibles together a few times to get Marcus’ attention, then had turned and walked off. When Marcus started to leave his things in his room, Plickit had turned back just long enough to say, “Bring things-tck. Going-tck away for few days.”

Marcus glanced over at the strange ranger walking beside and finally tried to break the ice. “So.” He paused to give Plickit the opportunity to stop, or to look over, or even to acknowledge that he had spoken. He did none of the three, so Marcus just continued, “Where are we going?”

Without missing a step or pausing, or really showing any emotion whatsoever Plickit just answered, “Shadowdale.”

“Oh-kay.” Marcus drew out the first syllable, trying to sound as confused as he was, then maybe Plickit would tell him why. When no explanation came, Marcus added, “Mind telling me why?”

“Meet-tck someone.”

“Who?”

No answer. Marcus stopped and crossed his arms, “Look, I’m not marching two days to go to Shadowdale when I could be staying warm and comfortable in the inn back in Dagger Falls. Not without a bit more explanation. Who are we going to meet and why?”

Plickit did not stop, but his head did rotate around to look back as he continued walking forward, “You want-tck to stay in room for eleven days, go ahead. I prefer to stretch-tck my legs. Shadowdale good place to-tck go. You’ll see.”

Marcus thought of staying in his room for the eleven days Will had said he would need, and decided that perhaps Plickit was right. Besides, in Shadowdale he was not a wanted man. He ran to catch up.

The following afternoon they strode the outskirts of Shadowdale to a small hut. Plants grew in rows all around the hut, and large drying racks held tanning hides, and drying herbs. Plickit ignored the clutter all about and went straight to the door. Marcus could hear someone was singing inside the small home. Whoever it was had a beautiful voice. Plickit didn’t seem to notice. He banged on the door with one of his four arms, loudly and quickly, obviously interrupting the song.

After a few moments a beautiful golden haired woman answered the door. She was dressed simply enough, but held herself with quite obvious strength. She swung the door wide quickly, looking a bit angry at the interruption. “This better be good.” When she saw Plickit her anger faded. “Plickit Ka. I never expected to see you here so soon.”

Plickit nodded just once, “Can we come-tck in?”

The woman slipped out of the way and nodded, “Of course. Who is your friend?” She looked over at Marcus, obviously studying him a little. 

Plickit just pivoted his head towards Marcus. His mandibles closed with a snap and his antennae pivoted as if to regard Marcus as well. Marcus imagined that Plickit was a bit surprised at him being referred to as his friend. Plickit did not really seem to have friends, just those that he talked to and didn’t want to eat.

Since an introduction by Plickit was seemingly out of the question Marcus cleared his throat a bit and held out his hand, “Marcus Farseeker.”

She took his hand and shook it. The grip was firm, but not overly so. It seemed natural. She smiled at the introduction, “I’m called Storm. A pleasure to meet you.”

Marcus blinked a couple times and glanced at Plickit. “The pleasure is mine, m’lady.” Everyone in the dales knew Storm, but few knew her personally. Apparently that smaller number included Plickit. At least enough so that the Thri-kreen felt fine to march two days to come find her for some reason.

“Please. Just Storm.” She turned to look at Plickit. “So what news.”

Plickit settled into a chair without asking and began to tell the entire story of the last few days, leaving nothing out. Finally he turned to Marcus and said, “He make good addition-tck.”

Storm looked to Marcus and regarded him earnestly. “Oh really? Think you have what it takes?”

Marcus frowned, “I’m not really sure what you are talking about.”

Storm chuckled, “I’m sure you know of whom we speak. Plickit is a member of group of friends of mine, and he thinks you would make a good addition.”

Marcus knew who she was referring to, the Harpers. “I would be honored, but I’m not sure what I can do to help.”

Storm nodded, “We all play our parts in our own ways, and you would find your way, much as Plickit has. But your incarceration makes things a bit more difficult. How do we know that given the resources of our group, you would not turn them to your own devices, gathering information for your next big haul.”

Marcus looked down and sighed, then looked back to her, “That life is gone. I served my time, and am now serving to save Dagger Falls, that should count for something. Use magic, read my thoughts, you will see I mean what I say.”

Storm nodded again, “It does. But for how much remains to be seen. Continue with Plickit and your other companions. We will watch to see where your heart is. We prefer to let your actions speak for your heart, and leave magic out of daily lives. We use it only when needed, you will have plenty of time ahead of yourself to prove your worth to us. In the meantime, you two must be starving. I have some stew on, would you like some?”

Plickit declined, holding up a small pouch, “I have food-tck.”

Marcus grimaced at the thought of sharing a meal while Plickit was around, but the thought and smell of the stew overrode the aversion quickly, “I’d love some. Thank you.”

*Common Room, Inn of the Swinging Sword
Dagger Falls
Marpenoth 13th, 1372, Dinner Time*

Will paused and frowned, his look becoming fairly glassed over. His spoon slackened in his grasp, its soup spilling back into the bowl beneath it.

Frowning, Serin put a hand on Will’s arm and was about to speak when Will blinked and looked at the others around the table. “That was… interesting.” He glanced over at Serin and patted her hand, reassuring her that he was all right.

Will regarded the rest of his dinner companions. “Seems I have just been contacted by the ‘Mother’ from the letter. She is not very pleased about what we did with her daughter. She warned us to stay out of the Underdark.”

Delorian frowned, “What did you tell her.” 

The monk seemed to know that with such a sending one could usually reply. Interesting, thought Will. “I told her the truth.”

Plickit cocked his head to one side, obviously confused. “The truth-tck?”

Will nodded, “Yes. I told her I was very impressed with her threat, and thus we will be becoming potato farmers, rather than return to the Underdark. You know. The truth.” Will grinned darkly and stabbed the hunk of meat left on his plate and placed it in his mouth.

The others chuckled. Plickit made hoeing motions, then shook his head, the soft click-clicks coming from his mandibles probably the best equation he had to laughter.

Will wiped his lips with his napkin then tossed it on top of his plate. “Well, tomorrow will be another long day of learning spells, so if you will excuse us.” He and Serin stood up.

Marcus grinned, “So what spells help you farm potatoes?”

Will grinned, “I was thinking chain lightning.” 

*Courtyard, Inn of the Blue Drake
Saerloon, Sembia
Marpenoth 17th, 1372, Late Evening*

The glow faded before the young stable boy’s eyes. Standing in the middle of the courtyard were several awe-inspiring figures. In the middle was a dark skinned man in a huge deep cloak like coat. Beside him stood a pair of human men, one dressed in traveller’s clothers, the other swathed in a dark cloak. On the other side of them stood a large insect-man the likes the young stable boy had never seen. Each of them had huge bags thrown over their shoulders. The dark skinned man was carrying a bundle of huge long polearms, like the ones the gate guards used, only much more finely wrought. 

They paused to take in their surroundings, and the stable boy started to slink back through the door of the stable. One of them snapped his gaze to him. It was one of the humans. Or at least he looked human at first. Then the stable boy saw the fire burning behind his eyes. In a near unearthly voice the man spoke. “No need to repeat what you just saw here, boy.”

Before he could respond to the affirmative the burning eyed man flipped a coin through the air at him. He caught the coin and looked at it. It was a gold piece! An entire gold piece! He could give it to his mother and feed the two of them for a week with this. Maybe more! He rushed quickly to the stranger’s sides, ignoring the danger that might provoke. “Carry your bags for you sirs? Need a stable horsed?”

The dark skin one turned on him and growled, “We’ve got it. Run along.”

Gripping his gold piece, the boy turned and ran back into the stable.

*Streets near the Temple of Mystra
Saerloon, Sembia
Marpenoth 18th, 1372, Mid-morning*

Marcus chuckled as he turned the corner and saw the temple in the distance. “Wow. They know how to proclaim themselves, don’t they?”

Delorian half snorted his agreement. The Temple of Mystra was everything Delorian thought a temple should not be. They were places of worship, not gaudy displays. 

The temple was built as a massive central tower, and loomed over this area of the city, easily ten stories higher than everything around it. Huge glowing stars spun slowly around the tower’s tip. From the roof of the tower, crimson colored mist poured forth and flowed into channels along the edge of the tower to the massive garden like courtyard around the tower. 

Will shrugged, “At least its not hard to find.” 

Marcus nodded, “That’s for sure. So, you think the Iron Throne will honor our bargain?”

“I would think so. They have no reason to cross us here. Now if we were outside the city, I wouldn’t trust them any farther than I can throw them. Here though, there is at least a modicum of accountability. Besides, they know we are going to turn and spend a chunk of what we make with that sale on them, so I see no reason to have to many worries. Besides, Plickit is guarding the rest of the goods.” Will paused and looked back. Delorian had stopped at the edge of the courtyard. 

When he saw Will looking back at him, Delorian quickly caught up and muttered, “I still don’t see why we need come here.”

Will answered, “It just would not look good for us to go straight from the Iron Throne to their competitors, the Thayan Enclave. Besides, I can not sell off some these spellbooks to the Thayans.”

Delorian looked puzzled, “Why?”

Will grinned, “Their Thayan.”

Marcus chuckled and leaned in to whisper to Delorian, “They wouldn’t understand the circumstances upon which they were obtained.”

Delorian nodded his understanding, and then shook his head at the whole thing. Still he was getting to see the city, so he was pleased. After all, information gathering about the world outside of the City of Shade was his secondary mission. He looked up the tower as they approached the main doors. 

As the trio approached the doors, the pair of guards on either side stood still until they had nearly crossed the threshold. Suddenly both halberds dropped down, crossing before Will. The mage stepped back and frowned.

One of the guards explained, his features beneath the helmet obviously snarled in contempt or anger. “Followers of Shar are not allowed within the Sanctum of Mystra.” 

Will and Marcus turned and looked at Delorian. The monk quickly responded. “I have no ill will toward your order. We merely wish to trade and…”

The guard raised his voice, angrily growling, “Followers of Shar are NOT allowed within the Sanctum.”

Delorian sighed and threw up his hands. “Fine.” He looked to his companions. “I’ll be out here.” He glanced up, and frowned, pulling the huge hood his massive cloak had further over his head. “Trying to find some shade.” He stalked off toward a large tree as the other two turned and looked at the guards.

The halberds slowly lifted out of the way and Will and Marcus walked inside. A young acolyte soon approached them. When they explained the reasons for their visit, the acolyte quickly deferred to a middle-aged priest sitting in the back pew of the main temple area. The priest stood up and turned to look at them. 

He was a little overweight, but not overly so. Even here in the temple he wore armor and weapons. On his tabard was not only the symbol of Mystra, but an order symbol that Will recognized as being the Order of the Shooting Stars, Mystra’s troubleshooters and investigators.

The man held a stocky hand out to Will then Marcus, “I’m Varick… I could not overhear a bit of your conversation. Tell me more of what is going on…”

*Streets near the Inn of the Blue Drake
Saerloon, Sembia
Marpenoth 18th, 1372, Mid-afternoon*

The companions made their way back toward the inn. They were discussing what they had accomplished so far in the day, when a beggar stepped in front of Delorian.

“Alms for the poor, sir!” The begger rattled a cup and put a hand on Delorian. The monk looked like he was about to break the man’s hand for having touched him, when the man pulled the hand back and pulled his dirty tunic aside to reveal to Delorian that he had a Chakram tucked into his belt. It was the weapon of Shar. Quietly the man muttered to the monk, “We should speak brother.”
Delorian nearly stumbled back as he started. He would have never thought that the dark mistress would have followers here of all places!  He had much to learn in Faerunian politics. Quickly he turned to Will and Marcus, “Give me some money.”

Will looked shocked, “What? Leave the beggar be.”

Marcus on the other hand was watching a little closer.

Delorian insisted, and Will sighed, pulled out a coin and hand it over. Delorian turned back to the beggar, who had started to move down the street, blindly panhandling his way along the road. The man was obviously blind. Delorian clunked the coin into the cup.

The beggar nodded, “Thank you kind sir.” He leaned in again. To anyone else it was seem he was just bobbing about, but to Delorian he whispered, “The alley behind your inn at midnight.”

Marcus turned away as Delorian turned and jogged toward him. He had watched the beggar whisper, and easily read his lips. So, someone wanted to talk to Delorian alone. Marcus doubted that would turn into anything good, so he decided that when the time came, he too would be there.

*Inn of the Blue Drake
Saerloon, Sembia
Marpenoth 18th, 1372, Mid-afternoon*

Will opened the door to his room, his crossbow in his hand, his sheets gathered in his fist at his waist. Instead of the intruder that his alarm spell had warned him against, Will found Marcus sneaking toward the door. Marcus looked back when he heard the door. Will frowned, “Marcus? Everything all right?”

Marcus nodded and smiled, “Yeah. Go back to bed Will.” He slipped quietly out of the hall, down the stairs, across the common room and out into the night.

Delorian slipped through the Plane of Shadow, and saw from where he was hidden that several men were hiding through the alley. He stepped up behind the furthest one out that he saw and reached out of the Plane of Shadow to grab the man by the head. He growled, “Move and I will snap your neck.” 

The man moved quickly, shoving one hand up and beneath Delorian’s arm. But the monk’s hold was too good for the young novice human, and the shade easily maintained it. He twisted a little, to emphasize the point then called to the ringleader.

“Why do you wait to ambush me?”

The former beggar stepped from the wall, walking upright this time. Still his eyes looked as if he was blind, but he turned to ‘look’ straight at Delorian. “We travel in numbers for protection in the night, brother.”

Delorian opened his mouth to talk when he heard the slight swish of cloth behind him. He vaulted up, his strong legs carrying in a graceful arc up over the monk that snuck up behind him. Landing behind the man he kicked off his back and rolled back several more feet. “Give me one good reason I don’t leave now.” He backed out of the alley, still facing it.

To one side, Marcus spun around the corner, and listened to the conversation going on. Delorian never had the chance to even see him.

The leader held up his hands, “We are only protecting our own, brother. Just as you would.”

“Why did you want to see me?”

“It is not often one of your kind is seen here, much less walking around in the open. We had to approach you. Tell me, why are you here?”

Delorian shook his head. “My affairs are my own.”

The leader strode forward, hands still spread wide. “The Brothers of the Dark Moon wish to aid their own, brother. Just tell us who and where to strike.” His voice was smooth as silk. Marcus thought that if he didn’t know better this Dark Moon monk could be a bard if he wanted to. He was a natural leader, that much was sure. He could easily see men willing to die for one with such conviction and ease in his voice.

Delorian shook his head again, “My affairs are in order. We are only passing through Saerloon. Your assistance is not required.”

The Dark Moon leader nodded, “Of course, brother. Should you need us, just contact us.”

“How?”

“The lighthouse in the harbor. Shar holds sway there. Ironic, no?”

Marcus had heard enough. He slipped away and back into the inn. Will had to know what was going on, but not now. Delorian would probably beat him back to the rooms, and if he tried to warn Will now, the consequences might be disastrous. 

*Upstairs Suites at the Inn of the Blue Drake
Saerloon, Sembia
Marpenoth 19th, 1372, Predawn*

The group gathered in the central entrance to suite of rooms upstairs in the Inn. The guard was pounding on the door. It was not urgent, but it was enough to get all of their attentions. “M’lords. You have a visitor.”

Will frowned, “Its early. Tell them to come back later.”

“He insists he must see you now, m’lord.”

“Tell him to come back after breakfast.” While Will was stalling the others readied themselves, in case someone had come to take their share of the Underdark loot that had been selling off. To take it without paying that is. 

“M’lord, he says he can not come back later, it has to be now.”

“Who is? Get their name.”

From the other side of the door, the guards could be heard muttering in surprise. “Where’d he go?”

From the shadows beside the door strode Clariburnus. “I will only wait for so long.”

Delorian quickly dropped to one knee, “M’lord.” Clariburnus motioned for the monk to stand, then turned to regard the others. “I hope your selling is going quickly and profitably.”

Will just frowned. He did not trust the shade lord or his monk lackey any further than he could throw either of them. He looked at Delorian then finally responded. “It goes well enough. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Clariburnus sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He actually looked tired, and even ashier around the edge of his jaw line than usual. “Things are getting worse back in the City. Hadrhune has about convinced the High Prince that it would be best if your group just went away.”

Marcus sighed, “Why do you people care if we stop these drow or not? I don’t get it. What’s your angle?”

Clariburnus studied Marcus a moment or two then replied. “You know now of the drow Great Revenance. If this Revenance succeeds there will be war here on the surface. The swathe of death that the drow push across the countryside will do nothing for my people, and eventually the drow will turn their sights on us. I want to stop that before it starts. Hadrhune on the other hand feels that an alliance with the drow can be worked out. He thinks if that happens when the Great Revenance comes to pass the drow can be aided and manipulated into taking out our own rivals and convinced to let those we call allies to live. I think he’s a fool. Meglomaniacal clerics are not the best place to look for a rational political ally. I’ve seen the effects of war on my people. I do not wish to see it again soon. Not for such a frivolous cost.

“Its to that end though that Hadrhune has convinced my father that aiding you any further is paramount to treason. Thus I must pull my support for Delorian and your group for now. Hopefully I can turn this to our advantage in the end, but right now we need to lay low our connection. Thus, I won’t be able to bring you anything further to aid you.” He turned to regard Delorian only. “You will have to get further supplies here in the worlds of light. I can not provide for you anything further. I will still be in contact, but other than with information, I will not be able to help for now. I’m hoping this will be a temporary problem.”

Delorian looked to the others and then nodded to his lord. “Of course, m’lord.”

Clariburnus looked at the rest of the group and asked, “Is there anything I can do for the rest of you in the meantime?”

The group was silent. Marcus, Will and Plickit just watched Clariburnus. Marcus thought that dealing had to feel similar to dealing with a devil. He didn’t want anything to do with either.

Clariburnus looked at them all, and repeated, “Anything at all?”

When no one answered the prince turned and looked directly at Plickit. “Twice now I have asked if there was anything I could do for you, and both times you remain silent. Yet your enmity towards me is evident. Obviously you want something, speak up and I will do what I can.”

Plickit narrowed his massive eyes and his antennae laid back along his head, “Free my people-tck!” The thri-kreen were a desert dwelling race of tribes when the City of Shade returned. Many of their people, including most of Plickit’s tribe were slaves within the city now. It explained a lot of the comments Plickit made towards Delorian.

“Unfortunately that is a bit beyond my capability. But I will free any of your people that I personally own. Is that good enough?” Clariburnus held his hands out, palms up, an expression of pleading.

Plickit nearly growled. “It is a start-tck.”

The shade prince nodded, “Is there anywhere particular you wish to have them taken to for release?”

Plickit cocked his head to one side. Did he look stupid? “The desert-tck.” 

“No where in particular?”

“Just-tck the desert-tck.” Like he would tell Clariburnus where his people were now. He would never reveal such a thing.

Clariburnus nodded. “It shall be done.” He looked to others. “If there is nothing else, I have much to do. Oh, one last thing. The dark elf city, Maerimydra, is the home of a shade ambassador, one of Hadrhune’s right hand men. Be careful around him. His name is Wyrruth.” With that prince turned away. The others all just watched him, Delorian bowed. The prince pulled the shadows from the wall and stepped through, disappearing.

Will looked at Delorian and started to open his mouth. Marcus put a hand on his arm first. “Cousin, I need to talk to you a minute.” Will snapped his mouth shut and turned to walk in to his room. The door slammed behind Marcus. Delorian looked at the closed door and shook his head gently. How he missed his simple room back in the City of Shade.

*Temple of Mystra
Saerloon, Sembia
Marpenoth 19th, 1372, Mid-morning*

Will and Marcus strode through the entrance without incident this time, Delorian had decided to go ahead to the Thayan enclave rather than wait outside the temple. Plickit had said something about meeting some druids outside of town. He was looking to acquire something that only they could produce.

Just when getting into the temple seemed too easy, a woman with a powerful presence stepped in their way. She looked the two up and down and frowned. “Gentleman. I am Lady Firehands, please follow me.”

From their conversation the previous day, the two knew that Lady Firehands was in charge of the temple. Marcus wondered what she wanted with them.

She took them to a room and closed the door behind her. She turned, looking at them angrily. “You bring Shar into the house of Mystra with you.” The two blinked and looked at each other. “You carry magic powered by the Shadow Weave. Its nature is hard to detect for those that do not know what to look for gentleman, but I have been fighting Shar’s followers for many years.”

Both Farseekers looked at her in confusion then looked to each other and said at the same time. “The rings.”

Lady Firehands thrust out her hand palm up. “Give them to me.”

Will started to fish his ring that Clariburnus had given him out. Marcus shoved his hands beneath his cloak and pulled it tighter around himself. “The ring does no harm.”

Lady Firehands did not seem to like his answer, “Give it to me, now!”

Marcus backed up, “No… it does no harm, if it bothers you so, I will leave.”

She sighed and pulled her hand back. “Do you know that?” 

Marcus nodded, “Yes, I wear it even now. It lets me see in the dark.”

“And?”

“And nothing. That’s it.”

“Have you had it identified?”

Marcus turned to look at Will, who shrugged and admitted, “We did not.”

Lady Firehands pulled a chair from the table and sat down. “I’ll wait.” 

Will shrugged and sat down. His owl, perched on his shoulder squawked loudly when Will reached up and plucked a feather. When he saw the look Marcus was giving him he shrugged, “It’s a component of the spell. He has plenty.” The owl ruffled its feathers then settled back down to go back to sleep.

An hour later, Will cussed out loud and dropped his version of the darkvision ring onto the tabletop. “It allows you to see in the dark all right. It also makes you highly susceptible to shadow weave enchanters.”

Marcus ripped the ring of his finger and slid it across the table to Lady Firehands. “I don’t really need it anyways,” he muttered.

Lady Firehands stood after gathering both rings. She dropped it into a pouch at her side. “Good. Now, Brother Varick wishes to see you, and I believe the head librarian has all of the scrolls you had requested ready.”

The friendly Brother Varick soon replaced her. The priest stepped into the room carry his weapon and had a pack slung over one shoulder. “Good news, I’ve decided to go with you.”

Will arced an eyebrow then shrugged. “We could use the assistance. Our last healer left for Evermeet.”

Varick frowned, “Evermeet? You must have really upset him.”

Marcus started to correct him, then he noticed Varick was grinning. They chuckled together as they all strode out of the temple. At Will’s side was a scroll tube tightly packed with the high level spells for which he had traded the enemy spellbooks. They were off to meet Delorian outside the Thayan enclave. 

After taking care of business in the Thayan enclave the four headed to Inn of the Blue Drake. Marcus had an enchanted pair of gloves and magic bag. Delorian had an set of enchanted bracers. Will had bought a gem that held a powerful fire elemental. These objects, and the things they had bought Plickit would serve them well in the Underdark. 

As they approached the inn, Plickit caught up to them. He told them he had been successful. The wand the druids were creating for him would be ready in a couple of days. They strode into the inn’s courtyard. Will stopped a moment and stood looking off into space.

In his head the woman’s voice was back. “Having fun shopping, human? It will not help you. You should have headed my warning, insolent fool. Here is something for you to play with.”

Will blinked and grabbed by the arm. He called to the others, “Be on guard!” His other hand was already reaching for his spell component pouch.

A disgusting smell accompanied a sickening green light that flashed in front of them. Marcus growled, “Too late.” A massive froglike demon stood before them. Huge rows of sharp teeth were revealed, sickening putrid drool rolling from the thick lips as it opened its mouth to roar defiance at the heroes.

Varick growled, “A hezrou demon.” His mace slipped easily into his grasp as he stepped forward. Holy light bathed off the mace’s head, dripping like glowing white water, only to disappear before it hit the ground. 

Plickit dropped into a roll, slipping to one side of the demon. His many hands came up with weapons in them.

Delorian shifted to one side and glanced up at the glaring sun above him. He cursed softly, and then was startled as something partially blocked the sun’s rays. Atop the large five-story inn, three more demons stood leering down at them. He pointed up at them, “More on the roof!”


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## sithramir (Nov 18, 2003)

Good stuff as always. Look forward to seeing some actions once they get back into the underdark... Wasn't there onl so long to stop the revenance? Seems taking 16 days is a bit much...


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## Wraithdrit (Nov 18, 2003)

The letter they received talked of 5 or 6 ten days before the Great Revenance, so they decided that they needed to get refits and so forth.


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## Eccles (Nov 18, 2003)

Tell me about it.

My players have taken so much time out that I'm now making contingency plans for a Realms-wide war...


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## sithramir (Nov 18, 2003)

Well that last update puts you're campaign a bit ahead of where I am in a campaign of spider queen i'm playing in. Was just wondernig if we'd have time like that as my character is going to take his first level of my arch-lich template soon and needs a few days to um... you know 

The best part is the rest of the group will never know! Cackles maniacally!


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## Nightingale 7 (Nov 22, 2003)

Hello again Wraithdrit!Your campaign seems to be going from good to better!I am VERY glad to see a campaign where the players explore the many different cities of Faerun.In most cases a campaign starts in WAterdeep/Shadowdale etc and tend to stay there,as if being built in the center of a void.It was a good way of showing the Realms' wealth and diversity of civilisations and lifestyles.
The way you integrated the adventure hook about the "darkhouse of Saerloon" was very smooth indeed.
Care to give us some behind-the-scenes info on Amador's and Mytrym's departure?I am very curious to see who will replace Mytrym in the "tank" role.The new character should be a tank,since Plickit,Marcus and Delorian are mostly strategic,hit-and-run types.


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## Wraithdrit (Nov 22, 2003)

Varick of Mystra is the new addition. He is much more of a tank cleric than Amador (the elf just didn't have the constitution for it, and prefered his bow). At the same time, Delorian, Marcus, and Plickit are going to have to step up their staying power. The party has also thought of relying a little more on Summoning spells from Will for front line fighters. The options are plenty.

Oh, and thanks for the kind words. They are always appreciated.


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## Nightingale 7 (Nov 22, 2003)

That still leaves us one character shy.Did Mytrym's player had other obligations and quit the group,or is the new character not introduced yet?


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## Wraithdrit (Nov 22, 2003)

Both Mytrym and Amador's players left the group. We thought of going with four, but then ended up adding a new fifth player.


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## Stone Angel (Nov 28, 2003)

Gosh do I love this story hour. Play more write more quit your day jobs and do this full time. If every reader put in a dollar a week. Errr....Gotta little carried away...Hehe..haha. Now get to work!


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## Wraithdrit (Nov 28, 2003)

LOL! Thanks Stone Angel. Maybe some day I can write enough to quit my day job (but I doubt it). 

We are taking a small hiatus (three weeks between games instead of two) due to the arrival of Will's player's daughter! Joyous occasion!

I really need to get working on the story hour update for the last session though, lest my players get out a rope and find a tall tree...


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## Stone Angel (Dec 5, 2003)

*gently nudges* com'on lets go, I need something read while I am working. Please update soon. Must have fix. Plus I need to know what to expect in our next session of CoTSQ.


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## Wraithdrit (Dec 5, 2003)

Stone Angel said:
			
		

> *gently nudges* com'on lets go, I need something read while I am working. Please update soon. Must have fix. Plus I need to know what to expect in our next session of CoTSQ.



 Now that would be cheating! Besides, my version of CoTSQ is so divergent from the printed module that you would never be able to seperate what is mine and what is theirs. Unless of course you have read it. 

We play again Monday (finally!) so some time between then and now there will be a big update (or two smaller ones). I have a fairly firm rule about being up to date when the game starts.


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## Wraithdrit (Dec 5, 2003)

(Just to keep Stone Angel from having to do too much work...)

Varick lifted his morningstar, the star head shaped in the likeness of the stars of Mystra. He presented in front of himself and called out a loud prayer to the Lady of Mysteries. A golden light rippled forth from the morningstar, an answer to his prayer. The hezrou recoiled at the symbol and growled out something in an infernal tongue. It lunged forward, stopped suddenly. Ethereal tendrils of light were holding it in place. The demon cried out in anger and looked down at the golden rift opening beneath it. In a howl of anguish the demon was sucked into the rift, and it closed behind him.

Howls from the rooftop sent the remaining heroes in action. The vrocks each seemed to shudder, and multiple mirror images of each of the beasts appeared alongside them. Will lifted his hands and muttered a few arcane words. Bursts of fire ripped up around each of the demons. The massive vrocks were bathed in multiple blasts and reeled from the intense heat of the bursts. When the smoke cleared, all three demons were still standing, but they were all charred badly. 

Plickit bolted out of the inn’s courtyard, running around to the side of the building, looking for a way to flank the demons. Delorian and Marcus spread out, watching the demons closely.

One leapt off the rooftop, its wings snapping out to carry it down into the midst of the group. It swooped in near Varick, its talons lashing out at the priest. The priest responded with his holy morningstar. With two quick smashes from the holy weapon, the vrock fell dead at the priest’s feet.

Another one launched from the rooftop. It let out a piercing screech that sent the group stumbling. As the group attempted to shake off the effects of the scream, the vrock shuddered and thousands of tiny spores exploded from its skin, embedding in the skin of its prey, Varick, Marcus, and Delorian.

Will was still trying to shake off the effects of the second vrock’s scream when the last vrock swooped in. Its taloned feet snatched the wizard up. As it carried him upward, the vrock shuddered, and spores embedded in the wizard as well.

The other vrock watched as Varick, stunned from the scream, dropped his holy morningstar. The beast cackled and threw out one hand. It growled out in infernal, but all of them heard it in their minds, “You won’t be needing that anymore!” With a flick of its wrist the holy weapon flipped through the air, landing on the rooftop nearby. 

Will blinked, the pain of the spores finally clearing his mind. He started to struggle, but it was too late, some five stories up in the air, the vrock tossed him away. Will tried to reach out, but the vrock quickly pulled its legs in and watched the wizard fall to the ground far below. Will hit with a sickening crunch, bones breaking, and blood welling into his mouth. 

The other closer vrock leapt to the air and was raking Varick with its talons and beak. Delorian tried to hit it, but his attacks seemed to have little effects on the unholy demons. Marcus ran up along the wall of the courtyard, stabbing out with his rapier at the closest one.

Will tried to lift himself up, but the pain was too much, and he heard another vrock flapping around just above him. He rolled onto his back, blood slipping from between his lips as he muttered arcane words of fire. His eyes lit up with bright flames. His hands came up and the vrock looked down at him, surprised to see him still moving. Fire leapt from the wizard’s hands, but the vrock was too quick, and leapt easily to the side of the slow attack.

The demon called something out in its infernal tongue, but all heard it in their heads. “Fool. Your feeble attacks can not touch me!” Its wings folded in and it dived toward the wizard. 

Will never looked away. “I wasn’t aiming at you.” The wizard growled in pain as small vines started to grow from his skin. Delorian, Marcus and Varick were likewise finding the spores effects quite horrifying. But Will just watched the flames arch up to between the two remaining vrock. The closest one to him saw him looking past and glanced up, recognizing too late that the jet of flame was similar to the pea shaped ball of fire of a fireball. 

Only bigger, much bigger. 

The explosion was seen across the city. It lit up the noon sky to levels of brightness that Saerloon rarely saw even at high noon in summer. The flames rippled out, engulfing both the vrocks, but leaving the inn untouched by anything but the minor flaming debris falling from the corpses of the vrocks.

Varick quickly pulled forth a vial of holy water and washed it over the vines growing from his skin. The vines melted away, leaving tiny holes in his skin, but no more growth. Will sat up and quickly drank a potion. The vines died off him as well, turning brittle and cracking and falling away. Delorian walked over to Will, glancing at Varick as the priest applied holy water to the vines growing from Marcus. The monk asked Will, “do you have any more of those.” Will looked from Delorian to Varick, then shook his head, “Sorry.” 

Delorian looked to the priest and frowned. Being lathered in Mystra’s holy water was not something monk had any intentions of allowing. Marcus made the choice unnecessary. “I have one.” He fished out the neutralize poison potion and handed it over. Delorian nodded his thanks and down the potion quickly. Varick knelt down and healed Will as Plickit returned to the group. 

Glancing up at the top of the inn, Varick asked Marcus, “Mind retrieving my morningstar?” Marcus quickly climbed the walls of the inn as a crowd gathered to discuss what had just happened. Guards showed up, but by all accounts the heroes had just saved the entire inn from certain destruction.

As they stood recovering, a young elven lass dressed all in blue, that the group had seen the previous day in the inn’s main room, came bouncing up to the party. She opened her mouth to talk and never seemed to stop. “That was so wonderful! Your fire spells are amazing. How do you conjure fire so well?”

Will tried to get a word in edgewise. “Well, lots of study.”

The elf giggled, “But you are only a human. I’ve seen elven high mages that can not conjure such wonderful spells. You simply must tell me your secret. Unless of course… oh, how silly of me.” She leaned in and whispered, though everyone around could easily hear. “You aren’t actually human are you… masquerading with the little people are we?”

Will smirked, “Well, you know…” 

“Oh I do! I do.” She waved her hands rapidly as she talked. “I tell you, these humans, they are fun to watch though, aren’t they?” A large hulking human warrior that they had seen with her before stepped up behind her. He did not even seem to notice her mention of humans, and seemed to be paying much more attention to all of them. He seemed to be waiting for one of them to make a wrong move of some sort. His stance was tense, and though his massive axe was on his back, it did not really look like he needed it to be competent in combat.

The elf continued, “So how long have you been in the city? Going to stay long? You just simply have to tell me about your fire magic.”

Will shrugged and changed the subject, “So why are you in Saerloon? Just watching the little people?”

“Oh no, dear no. I have business here. This group of humans wants something from me.” Again she failed to whisper quietly, “You know how they are. They always want something from us.” Again in a louder voice, one octave below ear piercing, “I give them a little of what they want and they just simply shower me with gifts. So I’m staying here for a while, see how long they are willing to cower for my attention. You know how it is.” 

Will just nodded, “Indeed.” About then, Plickit strode up. He studied the elf and her human escort. His head cocked to one side. “This is Plickit… he’s with me. I’m sorry, I did not get your name…”

She absently answered, “Tiana.” She seemed taken with Plickit and leaned forward into his personal space to study him closely. “How… interesting.” She giggled and clapped her hands looking at Will, “You have a pet bug!” She turned to Plickit and spoke very loud and slowly. “Hello… Plickit! Can … you … understand… common?”

Plickit opened his mandibles to speak then just sighed and closed them again and turned to walk away.

Tiana just blinked, “Was it something I said?”

Delorian wandered back into the inn, his entire body hurting from the growth of vines that though now gone, had left holes all throughout his skin. When he got inside, he found the darkest corner he could find. When his natural healing did kick in well enough for his tastes, he closed his eyes and willed the inn as dark as night.

The rest of the heroes were outside, when the screams of panic came from the inn. People were running from the main room, screaming about demons making them blind and so forth. Will walked over, looked in and called out, “Delorian, if you are causing this darkness, stop it. We’ve had enough trouble for one day.” 

The monk sighed but let the light return. Marcus walked up to the bar as the bartender finally came out from hiding. His response at a request for a drink was not too welcoming. “I think its time you and yours left,” growled the innkeeper.

“What? We just saved your inn!” 

“From demons that you probably brought with you! You travel with hellspawn,” the innkeeper thrust a finger at Delorian, “Now leave!” 

Will interrupted, “Alright. We’ll leave… relax. Come on everyone, lets go.”

Marcus growled, “No. I’m not leaving.”

The innkeeper looked at the guards still milling about. “What?”

Marcus shook his head. “I said, I’m not leaving. Not until you pay us what is owed. We prepaid for the room. If we aren’t staying, then give me back the extra money.”

The innkeeper stood narrowed his eyes at Marcus, then growled a curse under his breath and retrieved a few silver from the cashbox behind the bar. “Here. Now go!”

Will and the others turned to walk out. Tiana stopped Will and grinned, “Don’t be a stranger…. Human.” She winked, giggled and bounced off towards the stairs of the inn.

As the group walked out, Plickit just muttered to the others, “Why can’t I eat elves again?”

Will glanced back. "I think that one might give you a severe case of indigestion."


----------



## Wraithdrit (Dec 8, 2003)

When the group had regrouped outside, their packs slung over their shoulders, Will turned on Delorian almost immediately. “What the hell was that all about?”

“I’m not sure what you are talking about.” Delorian frowned ever so slightly.

“Your little light trick in the middle of the inn.”

“It was too bright.” Out of the corner of his eye Delorian saw Plickit circling around to behind him. He turned sideways to be able to watch both Plickit and Will at the same time. 

“Between how you are acting, and what your boss has been up to, I’m starting to wonder whose side you are really on.” Will was mad, stepping forward a bit, his eyes blazed bright with inner fire.

Delorian shook his head, “My motivations and have been and always will be to the city of Shade.”

Marcus chuckled, “Even though they banished you?” Delorian just shrugged.

Will went on, “My problem is that you have already once shown us your willingness to turn on your companions at the word of Clariburnus. How do I know that same fate does not await us?”

“I could never hope to take all of you, even if I were so ordered.”

Varick frowned, “That was not really a good answer. Anyone of us are vulnerable in our sleep.”

Delorian shook his head, “While some here would advocate such a tactic, it is not my way.”

Will nodded, “I see. Instead you advocate a tactic that involves giving your companions cursed items?”

Delorian blinked, looking surprised. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Plickit’s mandibles clacked together loudly. “Sure you don’t-tck…”

Marcus nodded, “The rings, Delorian.”

The monk looked between them and held out his hands, palms up. “The darkvision rings. What about them?”

Will answered, “On a tip from the Lady Firehands we checked them out. Turns out they have a second power. The power to make their wearer susceptible to magics cast by a shadow weave user.”

Delorian opened his mouth to speak then clamped it shut. He looked down then back up and sighed, “I had no idea such an enchantment was on them. You’ll have to talk to Clariburnus about that.”

“We intend to.” Will glanced at the items that Delorian wore. “We should also check out your gear.”

Delorian nodded, “I trust Clariburnus, but if it would make you feel better…”

The group went to an inn across town and the next morning Will was identifying Delorian’s items. They all gathered to hear what he had to say. Will looked at Delorian and pointed at the various items arrayed before him. “Most of these are fairly straight forward, they do exactly what you told me they would. The only one different is that.” He pointed to the magical tattoo now clearly visible on Delorian’s forearm since his magic bracers where on the table in front of him.

Delorian looked down at the tattoo. “Continue.” His look was one of grim determination. He had fought hard for Clariburnus. His loyalty was absolute, but it was time now to find out whether that loyalty went both ways.

“Besides communication with the tattoo’s owner, the person who holds the gem that is linked with the tattoo can will its owner’s death at any time.”

Delorian did not seem to have any reaction, but Marcus could see the monk’s jaw muscles tightening. Marcus bit his lower lip then shook his head a bit. Delorian may not be the perfect ally, but no one deserves a death just because someone else wills it.

Will looked at the others. “I think its time we had a talk with Clariburnus.” To Delorian he said, “Summon your master Delorian. He has some explaining to do. We will all be outside.”

Varick nodded, “In the sun.” The group left Delorian behind, and reattached all of his gear except the bracer that covered the tattoo. He ran his fingers over the intricate marks and pondered their newly exposed meanings. Was his life worth that little to his lord and master? His fingers touched the right spots, and the tattoo’s magic came to life. He communicated the message and soon Clariburnus was standing near him.

“Where are they? And what is this about?” The prince of shade looked tired. His eyes were more sunken than usual, and he ran a hand through his long hair. 

Delorian nodded at the door. “They wanted to make sure they talked to you in the light of the sun, m’lord.” 

Clariburnus narrowed his eyes then nodded, “Good. They are getting smarter.”

In the streets in front of the inn, the group awaited the prince and his servant. Delorian stepped off to one side, watching Will and Clariburnus. 

Will started, “We had the rings you gave us identified. Mind explaining their secondary powers and why you gave us something so dangerous?”

Clariburnus looked confused a moment. “Oh that… right. They are standard issue. I did not really think through the repercussions of you wearing them outside the city. Have you run into shadow weave users?”

Will shook his head, “That’s not the point. You could have used them on us any time.”

The prince nodded, “Aye, I could have. If I really wanted you dead though, there are many other ways I could accomplish that.”

Delorian nodded and tapped his forearm, “Ways like my tattoo?”

Clariburnus looked at Delorian, then to the ground. He seemed to be weighing his options, and then finally he nodded, “Aye. Ways like that. I suppose now that you know, you should know the news from the city.

“Hadrhune’s whispers have become a poison seed in my father’s ear in regards to this matter, and more importantly, in regards to Delorian. My father has decided that the banishment will be permanent. Problem is that Delorian is a shade, and no shade is allowed to ever leave the city permanently. Thus, the banishment is now a death sentence.

“A death sentence that you know I could accomplish with a single word. But I do not choose to do that.”

Will frowned, “Why? If the High Prince ordered it…”

Clariburnus grinned, “He did not order me to do it.” He pulled the gem out of a small pouch. “Though Delorian’s death is ordered, I was not directly ordered to do it, so I won’t. Besides, its beneath me to do petty assassinations. No, I choose not to be the instrument of my lord’s destruction, not in this regard.” With that he dropped the gem on the ground. It bounced once then settled. Clariburnus lifted his boot and smashed the gem beneath his heel. 

Delorian reacted like he had been stabbed. Crying out in pain, he grabbed his arm and fell to his knees. He ripped the bracer off and his arm beneath was cooking as the magical tattoo burned itself away.

Clariburnus looked between them all. “I would conclude your business in Saerloon quickly. Hadrhune will probably come after you all soon. The faezress of the Underdark will give you a small measure of protection against scrying and teleportation attacks.” He looked back to Delorian, “I wish things had ended better for us Delorian. Good luck, and I hope to never see you again. For if I did, I would be duty bound to kill you.”

Delorian looked up from the ground, still holding his burnt arm. He grit his teeth and nodded once to his former lord and master. 

Clariburnus turned and walked back into the inn.

Marcus shook his head, “I do so hope he finds a better hobby than us.”

Varick nodded, “Indeed. Perhaps we should retire to the temple, we would be safer there.”

Delorian looked up, his arm had already started scarring, his amazing monk healing abilities taking up where his shade healing failed him in the light. “I can not go into your temple.”

Varick frowned, “Perhaps…” But he knew that Delorian was right, there would be no way that Delorian would be allowed in. “Come to the temple steps, and let me talk to Lady Firehands.”

Delorian looked around the city then nodded.

When they got to the temple steps, Delorian waited outside while the others went in. After a time, two rows of guards marched out the front gates, flanking a woman dressed in regal blue robes. The guards circled Delorian, and then turned to face outward. The woman nodded, “Delorian… I am Lady Firehands of Mystra. Varick has explained the situation to me.” She motioned back behind her where Varick stood with the rest of the group.

Delorian nodded, “Well met, m’lady.” He bowed slightly then straightened.

“I would offer you sanctuary, but I can not allow one that worships Shar into my temple.”

“Then I will remain outside.”

“You could die out here.”

“Then I will die.”

“Why not renounce her? You could remain a shade… but you do not have to serve a deity that has shown you nothing but scorn and punishment, even as you attempt to do her will for her.”

“Shar is the only god or goddess I know.”

“There are others, many others.”

“Not for a shade. My thanks for your advice and offer m’lady. But there is nothing you can say that will force me to renounce my goddess. Shar is a way of life where I come from. She is a part of me, as much as being a shade is part of me. Perhaps one day I will learn to separate the two, but I believe enough has changed in my life for one day.”

Lady Firehands studied Delorian for several moments then nodded, “Very well. Your loyalty, even if misplaced, is commendable. I wish you luck in whatever it is you do with the rest of your life.” She bowed slightly, which Delorian returned. She turned and strode back toward the temple doors. Her guards flowed around her, making room for the others near her when she stopped to talk to Varick. 

Varick shook his head, as he watched Delorian stride down the long walk away from the temple. The monk’s head was held high, despite all that happened to him. “I take it he refused.”

Lady Firehands nodded, “As he should. He has convictions, and though those convictions are wrong, they are strong. Its what makes him who he is. Perhaps one day we can turn those convictions into a force for something other than evil.”

Varick looked back at his mistress, “I sense no evil in him, despite his worship of Shar.”

Lady Firehands nodded, “That’s what scares me. If he survives the night, keep an eye on him. Help him learn the error of his goddess’ ways. Perhaps in time he will become a worthy ally to our cause. Shar’s grip is strong. It will hurt if he renounces her, but whatever damage she does, we will undo for him. When the time is right, tell him that.”

Varick nodded then bowed, “Of course, Mistress.”

She looked to the others. “Come lets find you all rooms.” They turned to go inside, all except Plickit. 

The thrikreen watched Delorian go, his hand sliding the hilt of one of his new swords. He gripped the hilt tight and then finally let out a sort of growl. He knew the others were beginning the process of accepting the shade. In his heart he knew this was the worst mistake he could make. The shades were evil. Nothing about them could be forgiven, and especially not the dark goddess’ monks. Their kind had been instrumental in the attacks on his village. It was something he would never forget, ever.

When Plickit turned to walk inside Varick was waiting for him. As Plickit stepped in Varick put his arm around the thrikreen’s shoulders. He lifted a finger to his cloak pin, which momentarily turned into a small harp shaped pin. Plickit’s eyes grew large with surprise. Varick walked with the thrikreen toward the back halls of the temple, “There is much we should discuss, my friend.”

Temple of Mystra
Saerloon, Sembia
Marpenoth 21st, 1372, Early Morning

The group gathered in the temples interior and worked their way outside. Standing at the base of the steps was Delorian. Marcus was the first to him. “I see you made it through the night.” 

Delorian nodded. “Indeed. It was an eventful night.”

Varick nodded, “Perhaps you’ll tell me about it someday.”

“Perhaps.”

Will and the rest stepped up. “Delorian.”

The monk nodded his greetings. 

Will looked to the others. “Well then… into the Underdark it is then. Szith Morcane is a bit low for my tastes, not sure if the Faezress covers it or not, so we will teleport into the smuggler’s cove and make our way on foot from there.”

The group each put a hand on each other’s shoulder and Will raised his free hand and started drawing arcane symbols into the air. The air shimmered around the group and in a moment they were gone.

Above, standing on a balcony, looking down at the group as they disappeared, Lady Firehands turned to her guest and asked, “You sure they can do it?”

Storm nodded, “I … have faith that they will prevail.”

“Such small numbers against a threat buried within a city of drow… I’m not sure even an army could do what you ask of them.”

Storm got a far off look then shook her head and glanced over at Lady Firehands. “No… an army has already tried and failed.”

Lady Firehands’ eyebrows lifted, “You expect them to accomplish what an army could not?”

Storm smiled and stood from the chair she was reclining in. She glanced down at the empty steps and courtyard below and then clapped Lady Firehands on the shoulder. “If their will is strong enough, they can do anything, Mystra willing.”

Lady Firehands nodded, gripping the holy symbol that clung on a change around her neck tightly, “Mystra willing.”


----------



## Wraithdrit (Jan 5, 2004)

*Underdark
Just outside of Szith Morcane
Marpenoth 22nd, 1372*

Delorian stalked quickly and quietly through the tunnels leading out of Szith Morcane. He was not in a very good mood. Though the mood of the shade was never very chipper, recent developments had him even less cheery. 

Plickit had disappeared. Will had explained it rather matter of factly. The thrikreen had decided that he would better serve his people in the desert now that he had gotten as many as he could free through working with the party. Nothing more could be accomplished by the thrikreen here. Nothing for himself, thought Delorian. But what of the monumental task ahead. As far as Delorian, and perhaps others if the murmurs could be trusted, was concerned, Plickit had fled responsibility. He had what he wanted, so he left, no matter what the cost to the rest of them, or even the world.

Still Delorian knew he had to put those thoughts behind him, and continue his scouting for the rest of the group. The darkness of the Underdark was complete, but the party had little trouble picking its way along. Delorian’s Shade lineage allowed him to see easily enough. Will’s intense connection to the element of fire allowed him to see. Marcus’ long time spent in the dark confines of prison allowed for him to see as well. The only one who had trouble seeing was Varick, but he had spells to overcome that deficiency. 

The tunnel ahead started to reveal a bit of a glow. There was light ahead. Delorian stalked forward till he could see around the natural rock formations to the source of the light. A lone drow sat before a tiny fire, nothing more than embers now. He was leaning back against a stalagmite, watching the fire. A long thin elven sword lay beside him, and a shield lay to the other side. He wore a dull black breastplate, mostly covered by a piwafi, the dark elven poncho like cloak. 

Delorian examined the man for a few moments, then pulled open a shadow door and stepped through it, back to the party. He quickly related what he saw, then stepped back through the shadows to beyond the lone drow.

From the shadows, Will stepped forward and called out to the drow. The dark elf looked up, and nodded, returning the greeting. Delorian just watched.

Will asked the dark elf, “You seem to be waiting for something…”

“Indeed. And now here you are.”

“You waited for us?”

The dark elf nodded, but then scanned the area around him. “But two of your party are missing. Where are the shade and the thrikreen?”

Will shook his head, “Around. Why are you waiting for us?” 

“My time in Szith Morcane needed to come to an end. Rumor had it you were heading to Maerimydra to deal with the Cult of the Banshee. I would like to join you. The White Banshee’s followers made my life miserable in Szith Morcane… I’d like to repay the favor.”

Delorian stepped out of the shadows. “You are looking for revenge?”

The drow did not seem surprised at the arrival, nor did he turn around to answer. “Indeed. I was content to live out my many years in Szith Morcane. The High Priestesses there left me alone. That is, until the Banshee’s wenches took over. They ruined what I had, so I figure its time for a bit of payback.”

Will nodded. “Well… it seems you are in luck, as we need guide to Maerimydra.”

The dark elf nodded, “I can help you navigate the passages of the Underdark, but the route to the city is not known to me. I am not from these parts, though I have passed through the city, once.”

Will turned to the others. “Having one of them along with us will probably make our journey a bit easier at times.”

Marcus frowned, “Or more difficult… their tyranny must be known under the earth more so than above it.”

Varick frowned, “I do not much fancy traveling with a spider-kisser, even one that is out for revenge. However, I do not fancy the odds of us four alone in the Underdark either.”

Will looked back to the dark elf. “What is your name stranger?”

“You can call me Malaghym.”

“Very well, Malaghym… you can travel with us for now. Prove your worth and trustworthiness to us, and you most likely have the revenge you seek.”

Malaghym nodded and motioned to the fire. “Warm yourselves then, we have a long journey ahead of us.

*Underdark
Somewhere between Szith Morcane and the Lake of Shadows
Marpenoth 24th, 1372*

Marcus was surprised to see Delorian appear before him. The journey through the Underdark, now a full two days in, was hard. The way, though well blazed from a century of drow travel, was unused in some time, and ways around giant rock formations, and through narrow caverns made the going slow. Luckily they had not run afoul of anything that called the Underdark home though. Well, nothing but a few mosses, fungi, deep bats, and the like.

Delorian appeared out of the gloom. “There is a river crossing ahead, in a large cavern. Looks like a pair of bridges span the gap, but it’s a very likely spot for an ambush.”

Marcus crept forward with the rest and gazed down the sloping natural passage. He could now hear the sounds of the river, and it sounded as if it was fairly swift. A large stone bridge spanned the first length of the river. Beyond it, a wooden bridge spanned a second branch. He motioned for the others to wait, while he checked the bridge out.

Stopping just before the bridge, Marcus could tell that it had been shaped by magic. Remnants of an old wood and rope bridge, similar to the other bridge, could be seen dangling from support posts on either side. Perhaps something had destroyed the old bridge, and when someone with the ability to cast such a spell found the way blocked, the stone bridge had been magically created. It was very sturdy, so Marcus carefully made his way across.

Just on the other side he froze in mid step. The earth on the other side was flat. Too flat. He bent down and examined it for a moment. It was shaped as well. He tapped the edge. It was hollow. A pit trap, made to look like stone, with no seem. Clever, thought Marcus. But not clever enough. He skirted to the side, smiling as he motioned to the others that the area was not safe. 

As he got around the corner of the trap he started forward a moment, then froze in his footsteps. Being in a dungeon cell, alone, for as long as he had been, he had developed the ability to sense when something stirred near him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he could just feel through the floor that something was moving. Something big. 

The earth beyond the trap erupted, spraying earth and rock everywhere. A huge lump of rock shaped flesh heaved itself upward and huge meaty appendage flung out, slapping Marcus hard. 

The former criminal was nearly taken off his feet, the force of the blow was so hard. It not only hurt due to physical impact though, the thing was covered in some sort of acidic slime. Everywhere it had hit Marcus burned as the acid ate away at his skin. Luckily his magic armor and cloak were spared for the most part. 

Marcus rolled with the hit, tumbling back and away to the far edge of the island of earth as the beast growled out something in the language of the Underdark. 

Whatever it said, Marcus guessed the rest of the party did not find it much comfort as everyone leapt to the attack. He could hear Will casting something, but the creature seemed to shrug off the effect fairly readily. Malaghym fired a pair of arrows at the thing, but they bounced harmlessly of its thick hide. A mystical weapon appeared above the creature, a morningstar shaped like Varick’s weapon. It slammed down atop the thing, causing it to grunt out a protest. 

Whatever the thing had said though, the party’s response only seemed to anger it, and Marcus was on the receiving end of that anger, being as he was so close still. It shoved up out of the hole and slammed him yet again with its massive paw. He crumpled to the ground on the edge of the cliff leading to the water. He looked down a moment, and thought how the nice cool looking water would help to ease the pain of the acid that was burning deep into his flesh. He reached in to pull out one of his rods. If he could hit the water and keep his strength enough to hold onto the rod, he might be able to be pulled out.

The pain was unbearable though, and even as his thoughts of escape were forming, his vision started to tunnel. His hearing felt muted. The grunts of the beast seemed to be farther and farther away, but he knew it hadn’t moved. His eyes closed and the darkness closed in on him.

Will saw his cousin fall and screamed out in protest. One hand flew to his spell component pouch, and he quickly brought up a wall of fire around the massive beast. He thought he recognized it as a delver, but this one was much larger than he had been lead to believe. Perhaps the wall would keep it from Marcus long enough for them to get to him.

Delorian flashed in behind the beast, braving the blazing wall. The beasts hide was too thick though, and after a few attempts to hurt it left him with nothing. The wall was not burning him, his natural shade born resistance to fire preventing any damage, so he stayed in on the creature.

Varick summoned a massive flame strike in the center of the wall of flame, and the beast within screamed out in anguish and thrashed about looking for a way out. It spun on Delorian and both paws reached out to smash into him. The first hit spun Delorian to one side, and the second hit slammed the monk in the chest. Acid flew all over the monk and as he gritted his teeth against the pain, the magic of his belt, bracers, and gloves faded away as the items were burned through. 

Will could see that the monk was reeling from the twin blows, and watched him quickly roll back and out of the creatures reach. As he fled toward the bridge he grabbed handfuls of shadow, preparing to step through and away given the opportunity.

Will grabbed more spell components out as he watched Malaghym toss aside his bow and run across the stone bridge, trying to reach Marcus. 

The drow skirted between the pit trap, the wall of fire, and the sheer drip into icey waters. Grabbing Marcus he rolled him over. What he saw caused his heart to drop. Half of the human’s face was gone, the skin and muscle burned away, the bone sizzling away still. His eyes were closed, but the drow had seen enough corpses in his life to recognize one.

The beast thrashed within the wall of force, and spun to face Malaghym. The drow warrior could see the thing recoiling to launch itself at him. He could do no good to dead rogue, so he had to think of his own skin. The thing needed to die and fast. He hated to reveal himself so soon to his new companions, but he certainly did not want to die there.

Before Malaghym could act, explosions of fire blasted up from around the beast. Hitting it on all four sides. Will’s firebrand still did not kill the beast though. It shook off the effects and refocused on the drow.

Will saw the dark elf lift his hands up as he dropped the lifeless form of Marcus back to the ground. The drow’s entire form lit up as magical energy coursed through and out of him. The dark threw a single massive bolt of magical energy, a bluish flame that slammed into the delver. Will could tell with his arcane sight, that the drow was not a spellcaster, but that he held some sort of magical energy. Now it all made sense. The drow could channel spellfire.

The delver thrashed about, caught off guard by the powerful blast. The cleric’s spiritual weapon slammed into again and Varick called forth a ray of powerful energy that blasted the thing square in the chest. With a final sigh, the thing collapsed within the burning wall of fire. 

***

The companions were in shock. In an instant, another of their members lay dead. Varick had summoned them a shelter, and Marcus was laid out inside. The cleric had cleaned up the body, but then told them the news they did not wish to hear. “I have the energy to bring him back, but not the materials I need.”

Will heard the words, but it took a moment for the shock to subside enough for him to speak. “What… what do you lack?”

“Diamonds. I need 5000 gold pieces worth of diamonds. It is the price the Gray Plane demands for the release of a soul. I’m sorry. He will be missed.”

Delorian stepped out, but came back in a moment later. “Quickly! The beast… its stomach… it ate metal… and gems.” The group rushed out, and in the middle of the charred carcass they found a few small gems, and a single diamond. 

The joy of the find quickly turned sour as the diamond was heavily damaged, the acid of the beasts stomach having worked months to try and dissolve it. Will looked it over then handed it to Varick. “I have no idea how much this is worth, but I have diamond dust I can add as well.”

Varick nodded, “As do I have some, but I’m not sure it is enough. We will have to see what the Gray Plane takes.”

Varick required a nights rest before the ritual could begin. Will paced a bit, got some rest, then tried to study one of his new spells. Though he managed to commit it to memory, his heart was not really in it. All he could think about was Marcus laying dead on the bed near him. He remembered growing up with Marcus. He remembered all the family outings, the huge lavish parties his parents threw, and the major festivals that the two had gone to together, always managing to get in some sort of trouble. It was their first adventures really. Now he was dead… and none of Will’s powerful magics could do a thing about it.

Finally Varick began the ritual. The large diamond disappeared first, then the smaller diamonds that Varick had disappeared. Will feared his entire supply would be used up, and still it might not be enough. His pouch of diamond dust lay open, and as Varick continued to chant the small bits of diamond began to glow. The top of the pile disappeared first, then slowly more and more of the pile was eaten away. Will closed his eyes, holding his breath. 

Varick stopped chanting. Will snapped his eyes open and turned to look at Marcus. His face was whole again, and some of the color had returned. It had worked.

Finally Will looked down at the diamond dust. Most of it was gone. But a small pile remained. He would be able to cast a few stoneskins still, but not too many. Hopefully he would have the opportunity to replace his supply soon, as he knew he would need it before this adventure was done.


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## Wraithdrit (Jan 15, 2004)

Marcus took a few minutes to get himself back on his feet, and the group assembled to discuss what they would do next. It was quickly decided that another day would be well spent resting here. It was a defensible position, and the group had plenty to do before moving on. Marcus was still very weak, and the combination of bringing him back from the dead and healing him up had drained a large portion of Varick’s spell power. That combined with Will’s desire to learn a few of the extra spells he had collected, made for an easy decision to stay put for a while.

After all they had plenty of time to make it to the drow city and stop whatever was going on. Didn’t they? 

The next day they broke camp, which consisted mainly of a magical hut that Varick summoned for them to rest in, and made their way further into the depths of the Underdark. A long day of travel neared its end when Delorian returned to the group. He warned them that the passage opened up ahead, and he thought he could hear deep rumbling laughter in the cavern beyond. Whatever it was had a deep laugh, and sounded fairly large. 

The group assembled near the opening, and Delorian proceeded in, shadows completely shielding him from sight. What they had found was a lair of some giants. A pair of them guarded the entrance and the exit to the cavern. The exit was a sandy beach that dropped off into a massive dark lake. They had found the Lake of Shadows at last. Above the giants cavern, a hole led to more caverns, and it was from up there that Delorian was hearing the laughter. 

Finally he returned to the group and reported what he had found. The group discussed it a few moments and decided to try to talk to the giant guards.

Malaghym decided discretion about his heritage was probably best, so he stayed back out of sight as Varick called down to the giants. “Hello! We wish passage to the lake.” 

A few moments passed, and the sound of one of the massive giants rushing off down the cavern could be heard. Just the remaining giant stuck his head around the corner and looked down the passage at them. It called out in Undercommon, “Why we should let you pass?”

Will stepped forward, since he spoke the language, “We wish you no harm, and wish only to pass through without causing any harm.” He was ready if the giant should move wrong to cause plenty of harm. 

“Hmmph, you may pass. But you not stay. We watch you close… no harm be done.” The giant watched them as they moved forward. When he saw the dark elf he growled, “You travel with drow. You no say you travel with drow!” The giant looked agitated, but Will quickly explained.

“We travel to the drow city. They have caused trouble for us, and we are going to go take care of it.”

“You go to harm the drow?” Will frowned. He was not really sure if he was stepping into a baited trap, or if the giant truly did not like the dark elves.

“Yes.” Honesty should serve him well here, he thought, as the giant did not seem overly intelligent, at least not such that it might try such subterfuge. “This one travels with us to aid in stopping a cult of evil drow.” 

The giant nodded after thinking a moment. “You come with.” He led them to the near the hole to the upper caverns and called out something to the others, who were now all watching from the large hole above. After a few moments a better dressed, and well armed giant slid from above and approached. 

He spoke in common. “Greetings small surface dwellers. I have been told you are going to cross the lake and that you go to war with the dark skinned ones.” He looked over at Malaghym, “Yet you travel with one. It is not unheard of for stonebrother to fight stonebrother, but it is not common.”

Malaghym grinned, “Drow fight each other all the time.”

The giant nodded, “Indeed. They fight over the smallest thing, like feral pigs fight for scraps of slop.”

Will cleared his throat. “We merely wish to pass through, if that is not a problem we will be on our way.”

The giant nodded, “Usually we ask for payment and ferry people across… but if you don’t need our rafts then you can go in peace.”

Marcus frowned, “What kind of payment?”

“200 of your gold pieces… per person. Or we take tasks in trade.”

Marcus quirked an eyebrow and elbowed Will. Will grunted and asked quickly, “What kind of task?”

“Right now… I would ask that the Kuo-toa in charge of the shrine be … removed. In fact, since you have your own way across, I would pay you to do this thing.”

Delorian looked at the others and then asked, “What is so special about this Kuo-toa… what did he do to you?”

The giant scowled, “His name is…. The Claw!” The giant held up his hand in the shape of pinchers and snapped his finger and thumb together in a snapping motion. “He is evil… we and the Kuo-toa have lived peacefully for many years… then The Claw and the Devil-Kraken came. The Kuo-toa worship the Kraken as a god, with The Claw as his right hand. I think the beast is nothing but a big sea monster, and The Claw nothing more than a megolomaniac.”

Marcus blinked and muttered, “Masterful command of common this giant has… megolomaniac?”

Will grinned, “Do I need to tell you what it means?” Marcus elbowed him again.

Varick finally spoke up. “We are not paid assassins. What we do, we do because we must. Hunting down this Claw fellow is not our task or our problem.”

The giant blinked, “He offers living sacrifices to the Devil-Kraken.”

Varick recondsidered quickly, “Well, why didn’t you say so?” He shrugged at the others. 

They all looked around from person to person, and when no one objected Will turned to the giant and nodded, “Alright. We’ll do it.” 

The giant clapped, “Wonderful! Come, come. We go feast, you can kill The Claw in the morning!”

*Throne Room
Undying Temple, Maerimydra
Marpenoth 26th, 1372*

Zedarr and Dorina T’sarran walked in flanked on either side by multiple Quth-Maren. Both had found themselves a few weapons and some armor. The Quth-Maren flowed in their loping step around the central figure of the room, the pair’s mother.

Zedarr dropped to one knee and bowed. Dorina just half bowed from the waist only. Their mother wave her left hand, the long magical gauntlet that encased it shone in the light. Two zombies stood to either side of her, holding massive candelabras. The zombies stood perfectly still, their muscles never protesting the strange use of their ancient elven bodies. 

Dorina spoke as she straightened, “You summoned us mother?” 

Her mother nodded, “Indeed, child… I have. It is time we test the resolve of the heroes that so easily defeated you.”

The gauntlets that covered Zedarr’s hands creaked as tighten them into fists. “Give me another chance at them mother, things won’t turn out the same as they did the first time.” The Blackguard’s scarred face had new scars, fresh looking burns that had stayed, despite the intense magic that had brought him back to life.

His mother shook her head, “No Zedarr. No. Not yet. Your time will come. They have reached the Lake of Shadows… just as I forsaw, they have stopped to deal with ‘The Claw’.” She chuckled gently then shook her head, “The Kuo-toa and their oversized squid will be little worry to this group. But the encounters will weaken them.” She turned and motioned toward five figures standing in the back of the room. “That’s where they come in.”

The siblings looked past their mother and saw their cousins standing in the back of the room. Flanking either side of them where a pair of officers from Szith Morcane. Between them stood a shorter figure… a halfling. All five of them had a dead gaze in their eyes. Their skin was taut over their skulls and a small pinprick of fire seemed to blaze behind each eye.

Zedarr looked back at his mother. “Revenants? But they are our cousins…”

His mother growled and lifted her gauntlet up to point at him. Black energy coursed around the dark metal. “They failed me… much as you failed me… you have uses for me now… they are nothing to me… be sure your value to me stays high, or I will do the same to you!”

Zedarr swallowed and nodded, “Of course, m’lady.”

Footsteps came from the door to the chamber. Two of the well armed and strongly built drow warriors that guarded the temple strode forward. The heads of the spear they carried seemed to drink up what little light there was in the room. The dark swathed figure that strode between them seemed to drink up the rest of the light. It mattered little to anyone in the room.

The shade nodded his head, “Lady T’sarran… thank you for seeing me.” He lifted his head, and clasped his dark hands behind his back. 

Lady T’sarran turned to regard the shade, “Ambassador… your presence is a pleasure as always. What can I do for you, we haven’t seen you in days.”

The Ambassador nodded, “Forgive my absence, m’lady. There were matters at home that required my immediate attention.”

Dorina walked to the back of the room and reached down to stroke the cheek of the small feral halfling revenant. “Its so small… yet deadly. How delightful… I remember his screams as you tore his heart out brother. What was it he called himself again brother?”

Zedarr grinned, “Tanerus.”

The Ambassador strode up to small group, and reached back behind the halfling revenant. He grasped a hold of the shadows behind him and yanked hard, there was a feral scream and the halfling’s shadow came loose. It writhed in the shade’s grasp. The shade spoke the shadow in a strange ancient language that no in the room understood. The shadow seemed to slump in his grasp. Satisfied the Ambassador opened one side of his large cloak and tucked the shadow inside.  He turned and smiled down at the recently resurrected former vampire head priestess of Szith Morcane and said, “We had wondered where this shadow had gotten off to… the High Prince will be most interested in talking to it, I’m sure.”

Lady T’sarran nodded, “You may have it then… so what word do you bring from the city of Shade?”

The Ambassador reached into the other side of his cloak and withdrew a scroll. “My Lord has looked over the agreement and has some counter offers on a few terms. I am sure you will find the entire package still very viable for your … operation.” He smiled darkly. “Also… he has a gift for you.”

Lady T’sarran smiled, “Oh really?” She took the scroll and set it aside, determined to read it at her convenience, she was not about to be seen as eager. “What sort of gift?”

The Ambassador pulled a small dark wooden box from his cloak. Zedarr wondered silently how many pockets the cloak had. The shade almost looked like he did not exist. The Blackguard wondered if perhaps he was nothing more than a set of hands and a head, and nothing else beneath the robe.

The box was handed to Lady T’sarran and she opened it without delay.  She smiled and reached inside. She pulled out a dark gem that barely glowed with an inner light. The glow pulsed, it reminded her of a faint heartbeat. “How beautiful!” She closed her hand around it and her eyes went wide. “This is a soul gem!”

The shade smiled and nodded, “Indeed… compliments of the High Prince and one of his sons. They have no use anymore for the one whose soul it contains.”


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## Jeremy (Jan 16, 2004)

I love watching the bad guys plot and interact.  It adds so much to the experience.

Though the Stone Giant juxtapositioned with Jim Carrey doing THE CLAW! was also a very funny read.


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## Wraithdrit (Jan 16, 2004)

That was one of those Muse moments where you KNOW you are stealing it from somewhere, but you can't for the life of you remember where its from. You just remember its funny. I do it all the time... I make a joke and people go, 'Oh hey, thats from that movie...' I usually respond with, 'Oh yeah, it was, wasn't it?' Heh.


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## sithramir (Jan 17, 2004)

Nice writings... Its nice to see you back to writing again.

I'm in a CotSQ and its interesting seeing the stuff you guys have involved in it.


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## Wraithdrit (Jan 17, 2004)

Thanks,

Between the holidays, and now going to school full time while working full time, its hard to keep up the writing like I would like, but I am going to try. The more comments I get, the more I know people are reading, and the more I want to write. So, keep up the comments, and I'll end up writing more!


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## Jeremy (Jan 27, 2004)

So what have the Farseekers and Delorian been up to?


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## Wraithdrit (Jan 27, 2004)

*Underdark
Lake of Shadows
Marpenoth 27th, 1372*

Marcus looked up from the doorway to the shrine. He nodded quietly back to the others, though they already knew, thanks to Will’s telepathic link spell, that the magical glyph on the door had been disabled. Marcus slipped to one side, and Delorian stepped up and strained to push the door open. He started to see that beyond the door was a sheer wall of water. It seems the entire temple was filled with water.

Inside stood a statue of a mutant kuo-toa of some sort, presumably one known as the Claw. Sitting beside it on either side was a kuo-toa dressed plainly, with simple rope belts tied about their wastes. They quickly launched themselves through the water, and Delorian dove in to meet them.

Prior to crossing to the island, each member of the group of five heroes was the recipient of two spells by Varick, one that would allow them absolute freedom of movement in the water, and another that would allow them to breath. Delorian wasted no time testing them.

The first kuo-toa he met was lightning fast, dodge his blows, and blocking others with expert moves. Delorian instantly realized that it was trained in martial arts, just like him. While the rest of the heroes prepared to move in as well Marcus in through the door, running quickly to flank the attacker. The other kuo-toa swam through the water like a fish, quickly reaching the door. He flicked the door closed and planted himself on the other side. 

Varick rushed forward, slamming into the door, but the kuo-toa behind him held it shut tight. Delorian spun toward the door, cracking his fist into the kuo-toa trying to hold it shut. Marcus swam around the first one as well, diving toward the one at the door, rapier first. The water darkened with blood and neither hero could stop the first kuo-toa from slipping to the door out of the room. He easily opened the door and cried out something in the water.

Together Varick and Malaghym finally managed to push the door open past the kuo-toa that was trying to block it. Will tossed small spiraling globes of energy into the water that burning the kuo-toa they struck. The melee was fast and furious, and soon more kuo-toa swam in through the door. They were fighting well, using the water to get height advantages when they could. The heroes quickly adapted, trying to do the same.

The melee took a sudden turn for the worse when the two new kuo-toa, armed with tridents, flanked Brother Varick. Their tridents both punched through his armor and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. He slumped in the ever-darkening water, and his telepathic link went silent. Malaghym spun and grabbed hold of the cleric and injected the healing energies of his spellfire. 

Varick’s eyes shot open and swam out of the combat. Soon the kuo-toa all floated lifelessly in the bloody water, and the party quickly patched themselves up before moving on. 

Moving through the next doorway, the group found itself in a foyer of sorts. A staircase, a pair of double doors, and a smaller door led out. They swung open the double doors, and found an immense temple like room. A hole in the floor was surrounded by four female kuo-toa, priestesses by the look of their attire. One spoke to them in the strange bubbly language of the kuo-toa.

“Hal-l-l-l-t ther-r-r-r-r-re. We mean you-ou-ou-ou no harm-rm-rm-rm.”

The party began spreading out slowly, watching all four of the priestesses. Will spoke up, “We are here seeking the one called the Claw.”

“We-e-e-e-e-e know-ow-ow-ow-ow why you are here-re-re-re-re-re. Leave now-ow-ow-ow-ow, while you still can-an-an-an-an.”

Will shook his head, “We can’t do that.”

“Do not be foo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-lish, mortal. You don’t know-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow what you are dealing with.” With that, two immense tentacles rose up out of the hole in the ground. The ends of the tentacles had wide flaps of skin on them. 

They all thought it at once as their hearts sank… the devil-kraken!

Will shook his head one last time, “No can do.”

“Then you will die-ie-ie-ie-ie!” All four of the priestesses snapped their arms up and began casting. Delorian launched himself at one of them, and Malaghym moved up and stood as if wanting one of them to cast at him. They finished casting quickly, one right after the other. The first one pointed at Delorian. He felt a strange pulse of energy flow over him and released suddenly that he could not breath the water any more!

The second priestess pointed at Malaghym. The dark elf grinned as the spell energy soaked into. He channeled the energy into his reserves and made a mental note to thank her corpse later.

The third priestess, seeing the second fail to effect Malaghym, targeted him as well, after all he was the closest target, and would probably not be able to soak up two spells so quickly. Her gamble worked, and Malaghym’s spell of breathing and spell of movement both fizzled away into nothing.

The final priestess to cast was the high priestess, known by the kuo-toa as a Greater Whip. She targeted Will with a spell of dispelling. Will grinned as the ring of counterspells he wore flashed on his hand. The dispel magic and the counterspell discharged each other, leaving Will untouched by the dispelling magics.

Will answered with a small peas shaped ball of fire that burned sizzling trail through the water. It exploded into a huge ball of flame and steam burning each of the priestesses badly. 

Varick quickly cast a spell of silencing on one edge of the hole, keeping the priestess all from casting at the magic pool.

The massive tentacles of the kraken slapped at Delorian. They hit, but just they tried to tighten their grip they would slip off. The freedom of movement spell was still active on the monk, and they prevent him from being grabbed.

The priestesses continued their attacks. One was in deadly combat with Delorian, but the monk was too fast and hit too hard, soon her lifeless body floated away through the water. One leapt out of the area of silence, swimming to a few feet from Will before releasing a ray of hot steam and fire at the mage. His elemental resistances kept him from too much harm.

Fearing the kraken more than anything the priestesses could do, Will quickly raised a wall of force just beyond Delorian, trapping the kraken on the other side. Its tentacles slapped against the wall of force then sank into the darkness below.

The fight raged on through the water, blood once again beginning to spread through the murky darkness. Malaghym and Delorian held their breath, each fighting one of the priestesses. Marcus moved in to lend a hand, while Will blasted forth a cone of icy cold. Varick muttered a prayer, and grew to nearly twice his size. He hefted his morningstar, ready to begin smashing his opponents. 

Out of the gloomy water from above the temple area, a dark form swam down behind Delorian. It was a misshapen kuo-toa, with a ridge of spines along his back, and dark red eyes, the one they called The Claw. He had been watching Delorian, studying him, waiting for the opportunity to pounce. He lashed out with a dagger that barely glowed with an eerie green light. At the last moment Delorian dodged a swipe from the priestess he was fighting, caught sight of the incoming dagger and ducked beneath it. Half a second sooner, and the dagger would have plunged into the back of his neck.  

Delorian spun, but did not attack. Marcus quickly got the priestesses attention with a quick stab of his rapier, and Delorian was able to concentrate on The Claw, waiting for his next move. The beastly kuo-toa held up one hand and seemed to draw energy from around him. He was using some sort of spell like ability, and Delorian was not about to let that happen. He shook his head quickly, unable to talk in the water, and leveled a quick jab into the kuo-toa’s wide lips. The Claw’s head snapped back and he paused a moment, blinking, as if trying to remember where he was. 

Meanwhile the Greater Whip was still in a spellcasting duel with Will. She held up her hands, just out of reach of anyone, and called forth a massive column of steam and fire in the watery foyer. The fire and steam burned Will, even through his practiced use of elemental fire. The pain ripped through him, then his world turned upside down and inside out. The fire had triggered his contingency spell. Quickly he concentrated on where he wanted to go, the balcony above the fight would do well. He stumbled to his knees there and pulled out a potion. Somehow he managed to drink suck its contents down.

Malaghym swam around to behind and above her, his hands jetted forward and blueish energy ripped through the water. His spellfire burned the Greater Whip, but not before she managed to turn a bit out of the stream, minimizing the damage.

Varick stepped in while she was distracted, his massive form filling the foyer. He swung his now huge morningstar around in a wide arc and smashed the Greater Whip in head, cracking it like a melon. Blood quickly spread in the water around her as her corpse gently floated away.

The Claw, finding himself suddenly surrounded and nearly alone quickly swam upward, not realizing that Will was not hiding up in the balcony area. As he came into view, Will quickly cast a freezing sphere into the water. A huge chunk of ice surrounded The Claw and he was stuck within. 

Varick smashed the last of the Lesser Whips with another righteous blow from his morningstar only to slammed from behind something. He spun around to see two massive tentacles. The Devil Kraken had gone around the outside of the building and was now attacking through the front door!

Varick spun on the tentacles, smashing one with his holy weapon. It quickly recoiled back. He thanked his goddess for the magic of the Freedom of Movement spell, for if it had not been in place he surely would have been grabbed by the tentacles and be deep in the lake, and the bowels of the Devil Kraken. 

The rest of the heroes focused on The Claw. The slippery fish had managed to slip right out of the ice encasing him, but that only put him into the waiting hands Delorian, Will, Malaghym and Marcus. They quickly finished him off.

Varick smashed the second tentacle, sending it quickly pulling back as well. 

Blood floated everywhere in the water, but for now the temple was silent.

***

The massive stone giant leader clapped Will as gently as he could on one shoulder, sending the mage stumbling forward. “You did good! Did real good!” The giant held the corpse of The Claw up by one foot in his other hand. The corpse dripped blood, gore, and water, its eyes rolled back in its head. Marcus could not help but compare it to some twisted mockery of a fisherman holding up his latest catch. Would the giant show others his trophy, like some sort of warped Underdark version of a fish story? He chuckled and shook his head.

Will straightened his tunic with a humpf and looked up at the giant, “I hope this will remedy your dispute with the Kuo-toa…”

The giant heaved the corpse back like a little rag doll and flung it out at the lake, “Eat this you stupid Devil Kraken! Har!” The giant seemed very pleased, and turned to look down at the frowning Will. “It will do just fine, little mage. Come, you all look tired and grumpy, we go up and have another feast, you rest and leave when you are rested.”

As the group retired to the giant caverns, the leader turned and looked at them as he walked. “Say, you know… you could do another favor… we pay you again. The lobster monster that lives in cave below… you could kill it. Do that, we give you five hundred gold.” 

The party looked at each other and Will noted, “I did it with my Arcane Eye when I scouted the temple… it’s a chuul, and a large one at that. Nasty creatures up close, but we have the drop on it. I think we can dispatch it fairly easily.”

Varick frowned, “Its not why we came here… but it sounds like a menace to the area. Alright.”

The next morning the group, now rested from the hard fighting in the temple, executed a very quick plan to dispatch the chuul. 

Will used his cloak to climb around and get to the entrance of the cave. It was split in two with a massive column down the center. He quickly cast a wall of force on the right hand side, trapping the chuul in. The space between the column and the left hand side was too small for it to fit, or so they thought.

From a hole above, Varick began to cast a spell of summoning, and the others fired their bows and crossbows down at the beast. Will blasted it with a series of powerful scorching rays. He poured spell energy into them, maximizing them to their fullest potential. The beast reacted quickly throwing itself at Will, squeezing its way through the smaller opening. 

The mage backpedaled quickly, wondering where Varick’s elemental was. As if on cue, the watery form sprang into existence in the foot deep water that covered the cave floor. The chuul continued to charge toward Will, but he let fly another series of scorching rays. Finally the beast seemed to decide that discretion was the better part of valor. Horribly wounded it charged past Will and leapt into the water of the lake. 

“Damn it!” Will scowled and pointed after it, “Don’t let it get away!” 

Delorian appeared from a shadow beside the column and leapt into the water after the thing. He swam faster than many fish, his powerful legs propelling him quickly after the slower chuul. He could feel the water elemental looming in behind him as well. He thought to himself that it would not be necessary. He grabbed a hold of one of the chuuls armored plates and was looking for an opening to smash his fist into when several small globes of energy whizzed past him in the water and slammed into the thing. Delorian looked back, and through the darkness he could see Will standing at the water’s edge.

The chuul went limp. Disgusted, Delorian swam back to the surface. “I had it.”

Will shrugged, “I wanted to make sure.”

The elemental heaved the corpse up onto the beach then disappeared back to wherever it had come from. From above the giant leader clapped, “Most impressive!”

*Underdark
A day’s travel beyond the Lake of Shadows
Marpenoth 29th, 1372, Middle of the Night*

Delorian sat invisible atop the little hut that Varick had summoned. The cavern was pitch black, but that did not stop Delorian from watching the entrance and exit to the cave. He could not see but sixty feet, but no one should be able to see him atop the hut.

He thought about the traveling through the Underdark. It was tedious and slow going. Picking their way through smaller caves, climbing down large outcroppings, etc. He would be glad when they finally made the drow city.

His thoughts where cut short when the hut beneath him disappeared. He fell the fifteen feet down to the floor below, twisting in mid fall to land on his feet. The rest of the companions were rudely awakened from sleep when the cots that were a part of the hut were dispelled with the rest of the hut. From further in the Underdark a pair of large shadowy dogs came bounding down the passage, baying and howling as they came. 

As if to add insult to injury, a massive column of flame erupted around the entire group, scorching them all with unholy flames. Someone had orchestrated an attack, and they all scrambled to counter it.

Delorian saw the others were awake, and knew that someone he could not see down there had dispelled the hut. He dove into a shadow, coming out sixty feet up the corridor. Some forty feet up the corridor he saw a group of drow. All four of them were covered in funeral wraps, black cloth swathing their entire form. The front two where two legged, and running down the passage after the mastiffs. The back two were driders.

Varick got his feet first, and quickly cast a spell to give him protection against anything more the unseen assailants would attack him with. Will was next on his feet; quickly he snatched up his component pouch and tossed out a few materials. He summoned up a massive wall of fire on the mastiffs, between them and their assailants. He hoped that bought them some time.

Delorian was still invisible, so when the first drow warrior went to rush past him toward the group, he cranked her with a quick forearm slam. She spun on him and lashed out with her dagger, missing.

Marcus got to his feet, shaking his head. He found his rapier and drew it and moved over to one side, squinting against the light of the wall of fire. From within it, a massive dog leapt toward him. He backpedaled and brought his rapier up to defend himself. The other mastiff leapt out at Varick, the unarmored priest had gotten his shield and morningstar out, and managed to block the dog’s attack.

One of the driders moved up to within twenty feet of Delorian, she reached up and ripped aside the cloth hiding her face. It was one of the two priestesses they had killed in the temple! Her eyes burned with hatred, her face was rotting, and a mask of anger. “You did this to me! I will have my vengeance on you, shade!”

Delorian’s heart felt like it was going to stop. Her cold stare gripped him with fear and remorse. He felt sorry for having helped to slay her. Perhaps he should get what he deserved, perhaps… No! He shook off the cold gaze and kept fighting, grim with determination to send her back to whatever hell she had risen from.

The hair on the back of Delorian’s neck stood on end. Something was wrong, something was very wrong, and he could not put a finger on it. A sharp pain, low in his back clued him into what it was he was feeling. A dagger had been plunged into his back, but worse, whomever was wielding it was twisting it fiercely through his flesh, making sure to do as much damage as possible.

A familiar halfling voice behind him cried out, “You bastards, you left me to die!” Delorian looked back to see the rotting face of Tanerus glaring up at him. The Tanerus he knew could never look so angry. The feral little man he knew was no more, replaced by an undead beast seeking his own sort of twisted vengeance.

The second drider dispelled the wall of fire, then moved up to behind the first one. The second of the drow warriors dodged past the melee in the passage, racing toward the spellcasters. She never got there. 

Will dropped a serious of fiery explosions through the cavern and passage. Each one went only where he told it, and his precision with the firebrand spell was becoming legendary. When the smoke cleared, both the mastiffs had completely disappeared and both the drow warriors lay crumpled on the ground.

Varick, not able to see since the wall of fire had been dispelled, cast a quick daylight spell on himself. Malghym screamed out in pain as he was blinded. Delorian cursed a little but kept fighting. The closer of the two driders cried out in surprise as well.

His eyes shut tight, but knowing where the little halfling revenant had appeared, used his natural drow talents to summon a misty faerie fire that clung to everything, glowing softly. If the halfling tried to hide again, that should prevent him. Malaghym cussed in the drow dialect of elven and rubbed at his eyes, trying to make the spot go away.

The front priestess cast a spell of slaying, her hand glowing with dark energy. But she could not see to land it, and missed hitting Delorian with the spell. The other priestess muttered a mystical prayer as well, and the area between Will and Varick fell silent.

Tanerus was still flanking Delorian, and he lashed two more times, hitting once. Delorian was really starting to hurt. The tiny feral undead halfling was really finding especially deadly spots to bury his dagger.

Delorian finally spun on the halfling and growled, “You should have” He slammed a knee into the halfling, the blow powerful enough to send the little undead shadowdancer onto his back. “stayed” Delorian launched up into the air over the now prone target, “Dead!” He slammed down atop the halfling, his knee smashing ribs. The undead halfling coughed up disgusting black liquid, his eyes rolled back and then snapped forward and scrambled away from the monk.

Varick ran forward, the light of his daylight spell spreading through the passage. Delorian growled at the light, and the second drider threw up her hands as the light blinded her completely. Varick swung his morningstar down and smashed Tanerus’ head into a pulp. The halfling body slumped back to the ground, dead once again.

Marcus moved up, trying to aid Delorian. Fiery orbs streaked past the others slamming into the two priestess driders. Spellfire ripped down the hallway, slamming into the front drider. 

Delorian spun back to the driders just in time to see the glowing, black hand of one of the priestesses slam into him. His heart felt as if something cold was gripping it, but his natural resistance to magic bled the spell off and it failed to harm him in anyway.

The back two of the priestess threw up her hands and called down a massive column of fire. It bathed the entire melee, but when the fire and smoke cleared the only one on the ground, that wasn’t there before, was the other drider. Such is the way of drow.

Delorian concentrated a moment, willing his body to heal. Wounds knitted, bruises faded, and the monk was somewhat better able to stand. Marcus and Delorian stood side by side, ready for the priestesses next move. A ray of scorching light ripped past them, searing a thick burn into the priestess’ chest. She leapt forward, lashing out at Delorian, “Vengeance will be mine!” She plunged her dagger into the monk’s chest and he cried out in pain. He lashed out with one fist, smashing her in the face, causing her to wince and pull back. In that moment that she was turned away slightly, he was able to slip behind Marcus and move away. 

Varick covered his retreat, moving up to stand with Marcus. He held his morning star up and called upon Mystra’s aid. Healing energy poured out of him in a wave. Each of his companions felt their wounds knit, while the undead drider reared up in pain as the positive energy burned through her.

As she came back to all eight legs, she look wild eyed at them all, “You can kill me! It won’t matter! The Great Revenance is coming! You will never be able to stop us! Never! Your doom is sealed like that of your halfling friend! You will all die! You will all-“

Three rays of scorching fire smashed into her. The first one took her arm off at the shoulder, the second one burned a hole through her chest, and the final one burned her head clean off. The spider legs kicked a few more times, and then the entire massive, headless corpse slumped to the ground.


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## Jeremy (Jan 28, 2004)

Gotta love maximized scorching rays.  My Thayvian uses them to great effect.

That must have been a lot of fun, finally getting to reveal what happened to Tanerus and getting to do a fun impromptu midnight raid on the team.  Or whatever passes for midnight in the Underdark at least.


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## Wraithdrit (Jan 28, 2004)

Yeah, they were really peeved about being dropped to floor. I loved it. They have modified their criteria on where they rest, nothing longer than 60 feet out before turns, so they won't have the same 'they can see us, but we can't see them' problem again. At least not with camping. I have one more write up to do before Monday's game. It was ... well, I'm getting ahead of myself. More to come soon.

Oh, and I am still kicking myself over that Revenant fight. The priestesses were both supposed to have Fire Resistance 30, and I completely forgot! Oh well. Live and learn.


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## Wraithdrit (Jan 28, 2004)

*Underdark
Somewhere between the Lake of Shadows and Maerimydra
Marpenoth 30th, 1372*

The travel since the Lake of Shadows had been uneventful, but something was starting to tug at Delorian’s senses. Finally he put his finger on it. The darkness seemed more complete. It was if the veil between this world and the world of shadow was starting to thin. He had heard that such places existed in the Underdark, and was excited to experience it. The feeling seemed to give the shade an extra bounce in his step, and he was really beginning to enjoy it. Still he knew the others might be feeling the change as well and thought it best to go talk to them.

After shadowstepping back he asked, “You feeling it as well?”

Everyone nodded and Will spoke up, “We need to press on, but be extra cautious, this change concerns me.”

The group continued forward, and soon Delorian reappeared in their midst. “The passage opens up ahead. Some sort of large cliff face going up. There is a bell at the bottom as well.”

Cautiously the group went forward to examine the area. Delorian’s description did not do the massive cliff wall justice. It truly was a giant sheer cliff wall. Malaghym pointed up along one side and whispered, “There is an opening there, and the cliff continues up as far as I can see.” 

Will drew the group back again. “I will scout the area with my arcane eye spell.” The mage cast the spell and was quiet for some time. Finally his eyes seemed to return to normal and he glanced around. “There are three openings. Two contain bands of winged creatures, dark skinned humanoids that are unknown to me. Each of those bands had a spellcaster of minor power with them. The third cave is immense, and the shadows there seem to move as if alive. There is a good chunk of treasure there, but I really don’t trust this area and that shadowy cavern is large enough to hold near anything.”

Varick offered quickly, “I have the spell of windwalking prepared. We could fly swiftly on the wind up past them all.”

Malaghym frowned, “Why not slay them?”

Delorian beat Varick to the words, “They are not in our way. We should leave whatever it is be.” He had no desire to fight anything that called the plane of shadow, or this semi nether version of it, home. He had hunted the shadows as a youth, and the creatures that lurked there were things of mortal nightmares.

The others soon agreed and the group moved swiftly to implement the plan. Varick cast his spell, and much like when they had crossed the Lake of Shadows, they all took on a ghostly form. A great wind seemed to blow them out of the passage and up along the cliff.

The great darkness within the large cavern shifted and the shadows momentarily coalesced into a large draconic head. It seemed to sniff the air a moment. Its eye’s narrow to slits, but then the wind was gone, and the huge beast lowered its head, fading again into nothing but shadow. 

Beyond the cliff the party made up a little of its lost time, till finally the going had slowed to a point where it would be better to walk. Several large chasms and other dangerous obstacles were passed with ease during the duration of the powerful clerical spell. 

Finally they stopped again for the night.

Morning found them once again moving through the dark caverns. After a time Delorian discovered that just ahead to one side, a lone drow figure once again was waiting for them. He moved back to the group and explained what he had seen. They decided to send Malaghym forward to talk. 

As Malaghym got closer the figure summoned forth a shadowy darkness at his feet then called out for him to stop, speaking in the language of the drow.

Malaghym stopped and spoke quickly, “I only wish to pass.”

“Who are you?” the stranger asked. 

“I am Malaghym.”

“I do not recognize the symbol of your house, what city are you from?”

Malaghym named his home far to the east beneath the steppes of Thay.

“You are a long way from home. Seen a band of surface dwellers?”

“No, can’t say that I have, are you looking for one?”

“Yes, a group is supposed to come this way.”

“Planning on killing them alone?” Malaghym glanced over the other man, wondering how he planned to do that with just a rapier.

The stranger half shrugged, “With as late as they are, they may have already gotten themselves killed. The dragon of the cliff probably ate them. Regardless, we have business to attend to, these surface dwellers and I. Any more than that you need not know.”

From further down the corridor Will, who had been telepathically linked with Malaghym, called out, “What kind of business?”

The stranger looked at Malaghym and frowned, “Hadn’t seen them, hmm?” Malaghym smiled and shrugged. The stranger called down to the others, “A mutual friend has sent me to warn you.”

The group cautiously moved forward, Delorian had already scouted down the passage beyond the lone swordsman and found no one waiting to spring an ambush. Will’s arcane sight saw no magical traps waiting to be sprung.

Will continued forward, “Who would that be, and what did they want to warn us about?”

The stranger stepped a bit from the shadows he was hiding in. “Tursa says that you are running behind. The events that have happened have all been forseen, and you are on track, but the delays are dangerous and could be costly. The weave corruption has spread to all of Maerimydra now. It grows at an increasingly faster rate. The White Banshee’s followers are closing in on figuring out the ritual for the Great Revenance.”

Will frowned, “Who is she getting these prophecies from?”

The stranger shrugged, “She did not tell me. I asked, and she just said the Oracle.”

“Where is she now?”

“She left after showing me where to wait for you. You have a good week’s worth of travel ahead of you before making Maerimydra. Today is the 1st of Uktar. Tursa says the research will be completed before the end of the month.”

Varick muttered a soft prayer under his breath. When it caught the attention of the others he said aloud. “The Feast of the Moon. The day after Uktar ends. The veil between here and the realms of the dead is said to be the weakest then.”

Will nodded, “So now we know exactly how much time we have, what we need to know more about is what is ahead of us. What can you tell us about the path to the city?”

“Nothing, I’m not from these parts. I will be returning to the surface to continue my work when I am done talking to you. Tursa mentioned that the city is in turmoil, other than that, I know not what is going on ahead of you.”

Marcus growled, “Figures.” He looked at the others, “How do we know we can trust this Tursa anyways?”

The stranger smiled, “You don’t. It’s the Underdark. Trust no one. That being said, Tursa seems to have the same goal as you, stopping the White Banshee.”

Will frowned, “Very well. We will take our leave of you then.”

The stranger nodded and grinned darkly, “Careful heroes.” He said the last word with almost disdain, Varick could see the evil just pulsing from the man. “The way ahead is treacherous indeed. It’s not just your lives at stake now, but the lives and souls of all you know and love. Good luck. You’ll need it.” He pulled out a small scroll, unrolled it, and began to read from it. With the spell of teleporting finished, the drow disappeared with a soft flash.

*Underdark
Somewhere between the Wailing Cliff and Maerimydra
Uktar 3rd, 1372*

Delorian appeared in the party’s midst. They were used to it by now. “We have a small area of water up ahead.” Marcus groaned. Delorian glanced at him then continued. “Looks like a small stream bed enters the path. There is a half of a statue in the stream bed.”

Malaghym looked puzzled, “Which half?”

“The lower half. Beyond that the caverns open back up and there is some sort of small pond. Between the pond and the stream is a large mushroom patch. A pair of female drow is cultivating it.”

Malaghym frowned, “What are two drow doing farming mushrooms out here?” 

Delorian shrugged, “They are armed and armored.” 

“Did you get a look at their shields?”

“Yes, it had a black field with a green outline of a spider with blue markings.”

“That’s the symbol of Maerimydra… something is not right, there is no way a pair of armed female drow would cultivate mushrooms. That’s slave labor. Work of goblins.”

Varick frowned. “I thought you said you were a mushroom farmer.”

Malaghym nodded, “I was. Someone has to own the slaves.” It was so matter of fact to the drow. He had no reason to deny something that was common and normal to his people, slavery. 

Will interrupted, “Alright, so we move in on them. Delorian, see if you can get closer.” Quietly and quickly the mage cast the spell that allowed them all to talk telepathically. 

Delorian pulled shadows around his form, disappearing from sight. He shadow stepped closer to the drow, and reported that their condition was unchanged. He did not that they seemed to almost be glassy eyed, as if not really mindful of what they were doing.

Will thought into the telepathic link, “They are probably charmed, be careful of the shrooms and the pond, no idea what is causing the charm.”

Delorian reported, “There is also a hole in the ceiling. The passage continues on here as well, so not sure what is beyond this cavern, as the cave bends to the side.”

Varick quickly offered, “I can dispel the charm, and maybe we can find out what happened to them.”

Marcus crept forward and spoke into the telepathic bond, “And maybe find out what lies ahead.”

Varick slid his way along the narrow ledge that led into the next cave. Halfway across his foot brushed a rock that tumbled down the small embankment and splashed into the stream.

Both drow instantly snapped their heads up. One of them yelled loudly in Undercommon, “Intruders! Intruders!”

Marcus moved up much faster, looking to cover Varick long enough for him to get off his dispel magic. 

The further of the two drow warriors focused energy around her, creating an inky globe of darkness. She moved forward, her weapon freeing from its sheath.

Varick finally found a place where he could plant his feet and unleashed his dispel magic. Nothing seemed to happen.

Malaghym touched his house symbol and felt the air around him seem to grow thick. He floated, flying on the cushion of air. He flew past Varick and surveyed the room ahead. 

The second drow warrior summoned a globe of darkness as well then moved forward to try and get closer. 

Delorian had a feeling that the warning cry would soon bring attention, so he shadowstepped further into the cavern, along the far wall.

Will tried to move forward as well, hoping to get to a point where he could either parlay with the drow or blast them for wasting his time. His footing was not good along the ledge though, and slipped, crashing into the shallow stream, twisting an ankle. Ignoring the pain he splashed on.

Marcus stepped between Varick and the closest drow, and lifted his rapier in a defensive stance. He was ready for her to try and attack. One of the drow leapt over the gully and moved in toward him, but was till keeping her distance. Behind him, Marcus heard Varick praying. When he looked back, the priest had once again grown to an immense size. He wondered for a moment who would end up protecting whom.

Will finally rounded the small bend and found some footing in the stream. His hands flew up and he called forth a spell of dispelling. One of the globes of darkness winked out of existence, and the other drow seemed to blink and start shaking her head. Will quickly called out, “You and your companion were charmed! We are not here to hurt you!”

From the otherside of Varick as Marcus was stationed, the drow still under the effects of the charm leapt across the small stream and lashed out at Varick. Before the priest could react, her blade had cut him and she was back out of reach.

Varick lifted his morningstar to smash the fast moving drow, when something caught his eye on the other end of the chamber. From the shaft leading up out of the chamber a massive orb floated downward. In its center was a massive eyeball, ten smaller eyes flailed about on stalks atop its head. A huge mouth full of teeth, dripping with spit and whatever the thing last fed on was positioned just below the large central eye. The telepathic bond between them all lit up with one word that each of them was trying to warn the other with. Beholder!

The large central eye settled its gaze on the entire combat. The telepathic bond went silent. Malaghym plunged twenty feet down to the ground. Varick shrank back to his normal size and was blinded by the pure darkness of the Underdark with the loss of his darkvision enchantment. Marcus could feel his speed diminish, but was perfectly comfortable in the pitch black darkness. Will gaped at the aberration, all of his spell energies useless while its central eye focused on them. Only Delorian, invisible and behind and to one side of the creature, was unaffected by the eyes immense anti-magic effects. The beast opened its mouth and roared out in common, “Who dares defile my abode with their presence? You think to free my people? You will DIE!”

Varick backed up a half step and started trying to find the wall behind him. Marcus rolled into the gully trying to get out of line of sight of the monster. 

The anti-magic effect had one side effect that the beholder probably did not like, but was fully aware of. The two drow were now definitely not charmed any more. One of the two, glancing between an unknown (the heroes) and a definite danger (the beholder) decided to flee as fast as possible. 

Malaghym shifted to a better position on the ground. His eyes were studying the beholder, watching it. He seemed to be preparing for something.

Delorian licked his lips. He was the only one not within the area of the anti-magic effect, but if he exposed himself alone, the other deadly rays of the beholder would surely kill him quicker than he could defeat the massive beast. He too watched for some sort of opening.

Will leapt up out of the stream, he stayed facing the beholder but addressed his words to the one drow not charmed, “We are trying to save you. You need to help us defeat this thing, or it will only enslave you again!”

The drow looked confused, but had seen her companion flee. She backed up a few steps but otherwise did nothing, just trying to keep an eye on the beholder and all of the surface dwellers.

The beholder slowly moved forward and turned its gaze a bit to one side. The ray of anti-magic no longer bathed over the second drow and her charm slammed back into place. Two eyestalks looked to the other fleeing drow. “Get back here!” Twin rays blasted into her and the glassy eyed gaze once again sank into her eyes.

Varick moved slowly along the wall. He was trying to spread out, perhaps find the edge of the anti-magic effect. Unfortunately what he found instead was a charmed drow warrior. She lashed out at him in the darkness, slicing into him. He pressed on, and as he did, he felt all of his enchantments spring back to life. He grew to twice his size again, and the surprised drow yelped as she was shoved back out the way when the spells came back up.

The other drow joined her sister in battle and lashed out at the large cleric. His larger size, though easier to hit was tougher to wound, and the blade did not find purchase beneath his armor.

Will continued moving to the side. He was keenly aware that to get out of the anti-magic field would also put him in the area of the drow warriors. He splashed back down into the stream and finally felt his enchantments spring back to life. He threw his hands up, calling for his trio of maximized scorching rays. They blasted into the side of the beholder, causing it to scream in pain. 

Marcus moved to cover Will from the warriors. One of the two warriors tried to dance around Varick, but this put her right back into the anti-magic area, and with the charm suppressed again she seemed unsure of what to do.

The beholder howled out in anger and spun its massive central eye back on Will. All of the combatants but Malaghym and Delorian, were once again plunged into the chaos that the lack of magic seemed to bring about.

Three different stalks spun toward Malaghym. Rays seared the rock near him. One of the rays cut large swathes of rock from in front of him as it arced its disintegrating touch toward him. The drow warrior had been laying in wait though, holding for the moment the anti-magic effect left him. He rolled away from the rays and came up with both hands crackling with spellfire. He threw them forward and energy ripped forth. Pain gripped the drow warrior, as the magically energy that had been almost too much to contain was finally released. 

Luckily, it had its intended effect. The huge floating monster was rocked by the blast. It spun to one side and continued to cook in the blaze of magical energy. When the blast finally ended the beholder dropped with a sickening splash into the edge of the shallow pond. Its huge central eye rolled toward the cavern ceiling and a guttural sigh escaped its lips as it died.

The enchantments all leapt back to life, but the charm spells were instantly gone. Varick swung his massive weapon into position, ready to smite either of the drow women, should they want to provoke him.

One of them looked frantically about and began shifting her way toward the entrance the party had original entered from. “Get out of my way! Now!”

Will climbed up out of the river. “Before anyone goes anywhere, we need to talk.”

Marcus circled, trying to stay in front of the moving drow.

The other drow glanced the opposite direction frantically. “We don’t have time!”

Delorian stepped through the shadows halfway to the chambers entrance. If either of them tried to get away this direction, he was going to make sure it did not happen.

Malaghym flew up and took position in the cavern entrance, his arms crossed. He kind of enjoyed watching the two women squirm a bit.

Varick lowered his weapon and used his most calm, but stern voice. “We want to talk.” Malaghym snickered.

The first drow shook her head. “You don’t understand. Seekr’s friend will be here any moment!”

Will moved further off to the side, out of the way. “We can work together to get you out. Who is Seekr’s friend?” To Malaghym he telepathed, “Watch the hole the beholder came out of.”

Malaghym backed a bit more around the entrance corner and craned to see the opening in the chamber. From his vantage point he could easily see the opening without having to worry much about the two drow.

From the other direction movement and sound caught everyone’s attention. Around the corner that lead further into the Underdark came a robed humanoid figure. Its head was large, bulbous, and a pale pink color, and in place of a mouth and chin where several writhing tentacles. Again warning shouts went out over the telepathic bond, Seekr’s friend seemed to be an illithid, commonly known as a mind flayer for their ability to rip a man’s brain from his head, or scramble it with its psychic scream.

And scream it did. The tentacles writhed with a strange hissing sound and waves of psychic energy blasted into the group assembled. Delorian screamed, throwing his head back. His hands came up to grip his hair and he shook his head from side to side, trying to clear it. One of the two drow also screamed and dropped her weapon. She pawed at her eyes and head, shaking wildly, trying to clear the echoing scream from her mind.

From beyond the illithid a massive growl came, and a huge grayish-green skinned humanoid wielding a massive great axe came bounding over the small stream and racing toward Will. The thing had no eyes, but its expression was clear nonetheless. It was angry, and in some kind of berserking fury. The mage quickly backpedaled and through up his hands. He called forth a giant wall of pure force energy, leaving a small gap high within the wall incase he needed it.

The remain drow woman turned and ran as fast as she could toward the entrance of the cavern, she had managed to survive the blast of force from the illithid and had no interest in trying to survive it again.

Varick turned and took a few loping steps toward the illithid and swung his morningstar in a deadly attack. The blow would have connected, but at last moment, the illithid’s image seemed to displace off to one side. The holy morningstar smashed into the wall beside it, sending chips of stone flying.

Malaghym flew up and out into the cavern. He had not been in the first blast and he wanted to make sure and subsequent blasts were hard to center on himself. As he flew he pulled forth a magical harp the party had recovered from the shrine of the kuo-toa. He had the musical talent of a moss covered stone, but he did not want to play the harp. Instead he gripped it tight as flew and sucked the magical energy from it, rendering it useless for the time, but charging up his spellfire energies.

Marcus turned and ran toward the illithid as well. He too had shaken off the first blast, like Varick and the fleeing drow, but had no intention of letting the thing try and repeat its effort. Unfortunately he was too late. 

Again the tentacles writhed, and the shrill hissing sounded from the mind flayer. Blasts of psychic energy rolled over Varick, Malaghym, Marcus, Delorian, and the already stunned drow. Marcus screamed and turned away, his hands going up to his head. 

Malaghym saw the big berserker and recognized it as a grimlock. It turned on Varick, as if it could just sense that the invisible wall of force was there. The great axe swung with all the creatures might. Varick saw it coming though and blocked it with his shield. He instantly regretted it. His arm throbbed with pain. The impact did not damage the shield, but Varick was certain that if he was hit by that again he would not even be able to feel his shield arm. The thing was unbelievably strong.

The free drow continued to race away, fleeing out into the darkness of the Underdark beyond the entrance of the cavern.

Varick lifted his morningstar and called upon Mystra. A small silvery star appeared and began to circle around him. He looked at the grimlock and a small bolt of fire blasted into it.

From behind the wall of force, Will summoned up an enchanted floating sword. It hacked into the grimlock’s side. The berserker did not even seem to feel it. From above it, Malaghym pulled a balled up net and tossed it down. It easily entangled the grimlock, but again, it just did not seem to care.

The illithid moved up toward Varick, all four of its tentacles lashing out at him. Three of them hit him, and one gained purchase in his flesh. It started to burrow in, and try to take a hold on him. The priest twisted, and pulled, trying to get free, even as the grimlock tried to hack at him. His armor and shield held though. The grimlock was really big, but it was more angry and strong than accurate. Finally Varick pulled hard enough, and the tentacle slipped out of his flesh. 

To one side of the grimlock, a large fire elemental sprang to life, summoned by Will. It slammed the grimlock twice with its flaming fists. Still the grimlock did not seem to care.

From above it, Malaghym poured his remaining spellfire into it. It just stood there and took it, not seeming to care, focusing on the cleric and attempting to bury its axe in him.

The illithid lifted one hand and pointed at Varick. In his mind he heard it speak arcane words. A small ray lashed out, lancing across Varick’s chest. He felt his strength being sapped by the ray. Still his huge size would make it hard for him to be grabbed by the tentacles, but the odds were quickly tipping against him. The longer he stood there, the more likely he was to be hit by the grimlock’s massive axe.

Varick slapped his morningstar into the side of the grimlock’s head. It was a solid blow that should have stunned it. Still it seemed to have no effect. The creature just did not seem to feel pain. Its body seemed battered though, and it seemed to only have the barest of life within it, even less so after the elemental slammed it again and the magical floating sword stabbed deep into it.

Malaghym could tell the thing was almost dead, so he flew down to within reach. His elven thin blade lashed out, stabbing deep into the back of the grimlock’s neck. He twisted it and pulled the blade out, ready to watch the barbarian fall. Its head cocked strangely to one side and it spun toward Malaghym.

The axe came around in a wide arc. Malaghym could not believe the thing was even moving. He could see the wound on the front of the things neck where his blade had passed through. He had severed its spine, punctured its windpipe, and still it fought on. Time slowed for a moment, and Malaghym thought he might have time to twist out of the way of the axe. Then in an instant it was over. The berserker followed through with the swing. Malaghym felt a bit of pain. It had managed to hit him in the stomach. He thought for a moment that he would need to use some of his spellfire energy to heal the wound. His sword hand came down to press over where the wound would be, but found only air. Surprised, Malaghym looked down at his severed midsection. Below him on the cavern floor his legs and hips lay in a swiftly widening pool of blood. His last thought was one of shock, before he fell to the ground, cut in half. Dead.

The grimlock was not content to just kill the dark elf though, it carried through with the blow and swung it wide up into the elemental. It smashed through the fiery form, splitting it in two and sending it quickly back to its own plane. 

Will stood stunned. The grimlock had killed Malaghym in a single hit, and then had cleaved right into the elemental and banished it in the same strike. It should be dead, he thought. It had to be dead. Nothing could survive the wounds it had taken.

Too bad no one stopped to tell the grimlock that. It continued on its rampage, focusing its attention back on Varick. The priest knew he was fighting a losing fight now. Will screamed at him to get away from the others. He spun and shoved Marcus, who was still stumbling around holding his head, to the floor. Still stunned by the illithid’s blast, the rogue tumbled to the ground. Varick continued to backpedal, his large stride taking him easily away from the combat.

Black tentacles erupted up around the grimlock and the mind flayer. The barbarian ripped its way out of them, but was slowed enough that Varick had time to shove Delorian to the ground as well. If the barbarian was so enraged that it did not know when to die, then certainly it would not think to stop and hack at people on the ground. On its way toward Varick the grimlock stopped to hack at the drow female that was still standing stunned from the mind flayer’s blast. She crumpled into a bloody mess, dead instantly from the mighty blow.

Varick called out to Will in telepathy, “Take care of the mind flayer, I can outrun this mongrel!” He turned and ran down the passage, leading the berserker away.

Will turned to the mass of black tentacles, and the humanoid shape that struggled within it. He could see it was already gaining ground on making it loose of the tentacles, something was not about to let happen. He threw up his hands and called up a massive ring of fire around the illithid. The beast growled out in his mind, “This game is not over Will Farseeker. The end is only delayed!” With that a small glow appeared in the center of its head that spread to cover its entire form. The glow faded and the illithid was gone.

Will dropped the ground, sighing out in exhaustion, both physical and mental. Varick’s voice cut through his momentary rest. “The thing just decided to finally die… guess the fight left it when it found out was going to have to chase me to the surface before I was going to let it attack me again.”

Will looked across the battlefield. Malaghym lay dead, and Delorian and Marcus were writhing in pain still. “Come on back, hopefully these two ‘friends’ did not have any other friends about.”


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## Jeremy (Jan 29, 2004)

Windwalk...  BOO!

Frenzied Berserking Grimlock...  YAY--*keerunch* Ewww....

Owie.  That had ta sting.  Kudos to the party for only losing one member.


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## Wraithdrit (Jan 29, 2004)

I really was prepared, between the Grimlock, the Beholder, and the Mind Flayer, to kill them all. Luckily players have a way of proving me wrong. Which is fine by me. I'd rather challenge them to the extreme, not write in a way out and let them find their own way out, than to write something with a prewritten 'out' and not challenge them to do anything but follow the plot.

This actually catches everything up to the current session. We play this monday, and I'm pretty excited because they are finally just about to the city, so many of the secrets I have kept for a long time can come out. Muwahahaha!


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## Jeremy (Jan 29, 2004)

Huzzah!


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## Stone Angel (Jan 31, 2004)

Still readin. Right now this is my favorite story hour.


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## Nightingale 7 (Jan 31, 2004)

I thought I saw the post in the Rules forum,talking about a FB that critted one of your characters,and was anxiously waiting to see who would get offed.Poor little Spellfire Wielder   .Of course,playing something THAT fanboyish (drow are cool!Spellfire's cool!Spellfire wielding drow?YAY!!!  ) is like painting a big red bullseye on you.  

So,I guess the SF wielder's player is going to make something hardy for his next character?


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## Wraithdrit (Jan 31, 2004)

Stone Angel said:
			
		

> Still readin. Right now this is my favorite story hour.



 Aw shucks. *blush*

Seriously though. Thanks, comments like these really help keep me motivated.


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## sithramir (Feb 3, 2004)

Good stuff... I just somehow ended up DMing the group that I was a player in in CotSQ so this is how i'll live the rest of the adventure! Keep up the good worK!


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## Wraithdrit (Feb 4, 2004)

Delorian stepped from the shadows some three hundred feet back down the passage. He listened carefully for a moment, then shadowstepped again, this time even deeper in. Now he could hear her. The former beholder slave drow woman was not trying to be quiet, she was just moving as fast as she could. Somewhere outside of his sight, he heard her come to a halt. Raising his hands, a white piece of cloth dangling from one hand, Delorian spoke out clearly in common. “The threat of the beholder and the mind flayer are no more. We would speak to you of the city. I mean you no harm.”

The only answer was a small crossbow bolt fired from the darkness. Delorian easily slapped it out of the air. 

“Violence is unnecessary, but if you insist, I will bring you back standing, or slumped over one shoulder. The choice is yours.”

Another crossbow bolt whizzed down the passage. Again he easily slapped it out of the air. Frowning, the monk began to stalk down the corridor toward her.

“We can do this all day. You cannot fire bolts any faster than I can deflect them. Do not make me take you by force.” As she came into sight, he could see she was already reloading again. As he got closer she abandoned the hand crossbow and drew her rapier.

“Let me pass, or by Lolth I’ll kill you!” She took a few hasty steps forward, her rapier sparkled with electrical energy.

“I doubt that.” Delorian leapt forward, but she was ready for him. He had to twist to one side, to avoid the tip of the blade, but then he was within her reach. He slammed a palm up into her chin and her head whipped back. While she was off balance he hooked one leg with a foot and sent her sprawling to the ground. As she landed with an dull thud the monk was on her. His knees came down hard, one right her midsection. His other shin planted on her throat. “You could already be dead.” 

Her eyes closed, and defeat came over her features.

“Come with me, and I will guarantee your freedom after you tell us what we want to know.” This offer seemed to get her attention.

“You release me after I tell you and your companions what you want to know?”

Delorian nodded, then stood and let her up. He nodded down the caves back toward the beholder’s layer. “After you.”

**

Marcus tossed another sack down, then dropped down two suits of full plate armor, piece at a time. Will instantly recognized the armors as both magical, though one much more than the other. Good, the fight with the beholder and the illithid had not been a complete loss then. He glanced at the armor suits, then at Malaghym’s corpse. Looking to Varick he said, “We could get a few gold for these…” The question was left hanging, and Varick picked up on it fairly quickly.

“Indeed. But the armor would be better used as a defense against further damage than to convert it to gold in attempts to undo damage that is already done.” He looked down at the body then turned and walked away. The intent was clear, the dark-elf would need to find solace in the after life as the power of Mystra would not be returning him to life.

Will nodded, “Regardless, we need to go back to Saerloon and see if your temple has managed to secure us any supplies. We can get them to liquidate our other loot and return immediately to our travels.”

Varick nodded then looked to Marcus who was returning from a side cave the illithid had lived in. 

Marcus handed Will a strange little bone device. It glowed with a lingering transformation effect. Marcus spoke up as Will studied it. “It was right were your arcane eye said it would be, but there was no other treasure in the Mind Flayer’s lair. He must have carried his things on him.”

Will frowned, “That’s regrettable.” Noise from the entrance signaled Delorian and the female drow’s return.

“She has agreed to talk, but I promised her that she could go free afterward.”

Will nodded, “I have no problem with that, assuming she does not server the White Banshee.”

The drow looked confused, “The White Banshee? What has that little cult have to do with anything?”

Will frowned and looked between her and the others. “Why don’t you tell us what the last thing you remember of Maerimydra?”

The drow nodded, “The city has been sacked. A horde of goblins, orcs and giants, swept in and destroyed most everything. I was a part of a group of survivors that fled toward Szith Morcane. My companion and I got caught in the open when Sekkr attacked. Many of the others made it through.”

Will nodded, “When the city fell, where the priestesses not helping?”

The woman shrugged, “They must have been fighting amongst themselves, because they were not helping us very much.”

Delorian interrupted, “The White Banshee has taken control of the city, and of Szith Morcane. At least they did till we liberated it.”

The drow cocked an eyebrow and studied him a moment, “Liberated?”

Delorian nodded, “It is still in drow hands, but no longer controlled by the forces of the White Banshee.”

She nodded, “Then that is where I will go then… if we are done.”

Will held up a hand, “Almost. I need to know the layout of the city and how its entrances are guarded.” He pulled out a sheet of parchment, an inkbottle and quill.

The drow officer scowled, “I’m no scribe, nor map-maker, but I will tell you what I know. There are three gates that lead into the city. Each is set in a wall that covers the passage that leads to the gate. In the city, there are grazing and growing fields along most of the outer edge of the city. The far northwest corner is raised above the rest and is home to the largest houses and the temple. Castle Maerimydra dominates the center of town. The southeast portion of the city holds a large lake. Near the lake is the arena. In the northeast corner of the city is the Shattered Tower, the cities school of the arcane. That’s about all I can tell you about that. Last I saw the north gates were sundered from their hinges.” She looked toward the exit of the cavern that would eventually lead her to Szith Morcane, then looked back impatiently. Finally Will nodded and she spun and stalked back into the darkness.

Delorian, Varick, Will, and Marcus looked between each other and mulled over this new information. Marcus spoke up first. “It explains the tracks we have been seeing. The tracks of goblins to giants heading toward the city were the invaders. The first group of drow tracks leading away was the Lolth loyalists that fled the city.”

Delorian added, “And the second drow track set were the White Banshee’s followers chasing after them to Szith Morcane.”

Will nodded, “If the city was destroyed, then the White Banshee would be gone, but we have heard from their leader and know she is very much alive. We need to get into the ruins and find out what is going on.”

Varick nodded, “A goblin hoard or an undead cult. It’s easy to see who is the greater threat in the long run. I’m not sure if these developments make me more at ease or less. On one hand the drow seem to have, at least at some point, lost control of the city. On the other hand, something just as evil, if not a little less organized, controls it now.”

Will picked up his pack and shouldered it. “We should head up the shaft and rest up. Once we have rested I’ll teleport us back to the giants to get what we left with them. Then a jump back to the temple to drop it all off and see if they have gotten anything together for us, and then one last jump back to here. We can get at least a good half day or more of travel in still tomorrow, make up for some of the time we are losing today maybe.” The others agreed and quickly made their way up into the beholder’s lair.

The next morning the group held onto each other as Will cast his teleport spell. The energy of the spell once again felt like it was turning them inside out. Will however was concentrating harder than ever. His image of the spot he want to go to was burned into his memory, but he was having trouble focusing on it. A hazy glow that seemed to pervade his consciousness as he concentrated was distracting him from completing the spell properly. Finally the world warped back into existence. Pain ripped through the companions for a brief instant before Will was once again guiding them through the magical energies of the Weave. Finally the world came back into focus and they stood in the chambers of the stone giants. 

Marcus fell to his knees coughing up blood. Delorian stumbled to one side and propped against a wall. Varick wheezed and bent over gasping, his hands on his thighs. Will dropped down to a knee, panting, a small trickle of blood leaking from both his eyes.

Marcus was the first to voice his displeasure. “What was that?” He looked over to Will.

Will coughed then straightened. “The magical radiation these rocks give off. Its hard to get a teleport through them successfully. But we made it in one piece.”

Delorian growled, “Mostly.” The monk stood up straight, any remnants of the pain from the teleport already gone due to his shadow’s healing powers in darkness.

The booming voice of the stone giant elder came from above. “Friends! You have returned so soon!” With a loud thud he joined them in the lower chamber. “You sacked the elfling city so soon?”

Will shook his head, “No. We are headed back to the surface to resupply then are headed back to the city.”

The giant nodded, “Ahhhh… supply run. I get it.” He winked and clapped Will on the back, sending him sprawling. “So why come here?”

Marcus frowned, “To get our things.”

The stone giant paused, then frowned, “Your things? Err… well.” He seemed to think a moment then shrugged, “Why not? Lets get your things. They are after all… yours.” He grinned and lumbered off, returning after a few moments with several large bags. “Here you are!”

Varick asked, “So have the kuo-toa given you any trouble?”

The stone giant laughed out loud. “By the gods no! They are scared witless of us. Why just the other day I saw one. Tossed a rock at it, and it looked like it muddied the water around it, then swam away so fast I couldn’t even taunt it in time! Har!” The giant slapped Varick on the back, sending the priest sprawling.

Will looked up and broke into the conversation again. “So we talked a bit about others coming through here when we were here last. Did you see a goblin horde come this way?”

The stone giant thought a moment and then nodded, “Aye… indeed. A large group of goblins and fire giants came through. Probably some ogres and trolls with them as wells, orcs and the like… though many were not quite right. They were… uglier, twisted… you know…” He thought a moment then got the imagery he wanted, “much like The Claw!” He held up his hand in a twisted mockery of a claw.

Will looked between his companions and nodded up to the giant, “Our thanks my large friend. We should be going.”

The giant nodded, “Of course… finish your supply run… and have fun sacking the city!” He waved and clambered back up the shaft leading to the giant chambers.

Will looked to the others, “More fiendish creatures. There sure seem to be a lot of them crawling around these parts. That’s definitely something to keep our attention on.” With a grin he added, “So, you guys ready to teleport again?”

This time it was the launch that was bad, and not the landing. Once again they finally appeared at their destination, the steps of the Temple of Mystra in Saerloon. Marcus was cussing worse than a sailor. Delorian glared up at the sun, growling. Varick moaned a bit, and Will just slumped to the ground his hands shaking a bit.

After they took a moment to collect themselves they looked around. Delorian looked up at the temple. “How long will you be within?”

Will shrugged, “No more than an hour. Just long enough to drop of our things and collect whatever they have for us.”

Delorian nodded, “I will watching the temple entrance from a distance. I’ll meet up with you when you are done.” The others nodded and turned to walk inside. Delorian looked around for an elevated overhang with enough shadow to allow him some comfort.

The guards obviously knew who they were, as one of them quickly commented, “We have been awaiting your arrival. Please come quickly.” He led the group to a side chamber, passed many acolytes that were obviously moving about with some purpose. In fact the whole temple seemed to have shifted from its more relaxed mode into a mode were everyone was busy doing something toward some larger end.

After being told were to go Varick led Marcus and Will to a small chamber. Lady Firehands soon met them. “It pleases me to see you all well. Is the shade still with you?” 

Will nodded, “He is waiting outside.” 

Celia nodded, “He has not turned on you yet?” She seemed honestly surprised. “Very well, come with me please.” As she walked she intoned a small incantation. 

Outside, her voice cut into Delorian’s thoughts, “You have served your companions loyally, there is much to discuss, and your presence is requested inside.” 

Delorian responded in his thoughts, “Very well. I will be in shortly.” At least, he thought, it would be out of the sun.

As he was moving toward the temple the others met Plickit Ka in the halls. Will smiled, “Plickit, what are you doing here?” Plickit just cocked his head to the side and looked at Celia. 

“Plickit went south beyond the sea to find another tribe of Thri-kreen to help in his personal mission. He brought something very interesting back. I’ll show it to you in a moment.” She reached into a pouch and pulled out a small bag that jingled. She handed it to Plickit and bowed to him. “Thank you Plickit, your aid in this will prove invaluable.” 

Plickit took the bag, bowed and turned to walk away. As he went around the far corner, Delorian came around a near one, escorted by a guard. 

Celia smiled at the monk and looked back at his companions, “Gentlemen, right this way.” She led them through a series of halls and doors. “We received your message. After you left we have been working diligently on trying to ready supplies and aid for you.” Varick nodded slowly. It was good that the temple was mobilized for this cause.

Celia led them all into a smaller worship shrine. Delorian frowned but entered. The back of the room held a shrine, where several priests of not only Mystra, but Azuth and another diety were chanting some form of ritual. On the shrine lay a body, draped in white cloth with a shining long sword laid across its form. The body seemed to fade in and out of existence. 

Celia explained. “The men with the lion symbols on their chests are priests of Nabanion. The agent that went south, that you met earlier…” She glanced at Delorian while refraining from naming Plickit, “…came upon their temple. The sword is a relic of theirs, the blade that was wielded by their great war hero from over a hundred and fifty years ago. Its hilt was stained with blood, the hero’s blood. He knew that with that blood we could bring him back. He told the temple of our plight and they agreed to lend the sword, and their hero to our cause, should the hero find it an acceptable reason to return to the land of the living.”

In one corner of the room, near the door, on a stool sat a lone female figure. She was wearing rugged traveling clothes, but had the look of an archer. Her forearms had archery bracers on them, and quiver and pack sat beside her. Celia turned the parties attention to her. “This is YaDichi, the daughter of one of the Knights of Myth Drannor. She is an archer of some great reknown and has heard the call we made for heroes willing to aid in your quest. She will join you if you will have her.” 

YaDichi nodded and smiled. Then Delorian stated the obvious, “An archer with no bow?” YaDichi reached down to pull the bow from within the small quiver, a feat only made possibly by magic. It was unstrung, but an impressive bow indeed. It looked massive, and was obviously made of bone. Will whistled at the powerful magical energy bleeding off the bow.

YaDichi turned the bow this way and that, showing it to them. “It was carved from the dracolich that my father helped to slay.”

Celia smiled and noted, “Its ability to slay undead with a single shot and to strike clear through multiple targets is well known. YaDichi’s vow to continue the honor and ways of the Knights of Myth Drannor are deeply ingrained. She will be a valuable addition to your group.”

The chanting stopped at the front of the room and everyone turned to see the well built form under the cloth open his eyes and sit up, grasping the hilt of his sword. One of the Nabanion acolytes rushed forward and prostrated himself at the base of the alter, “Lord Taran… you answered our call, by Nabanion’s grace.” 

The holy warrior blinked a few times and looked around then down. He looked finally at the acolyte. “I’ll be needing some clothes.” He swallowed, grabbed the white cloth, to wrap around his waist then stood. “I am sure there is much to be done.” The room was hushed for a moment, the figure of the half naked warrior, even as battle scarred as his form was, impressed even the cynical Delorian. The man just had an air of confidence, strength, and genuineness that was almost infectious.

Celia nodded and clapped lightly, “Welcome back to the land of the living Lord Taran. There is much to discuss.” She turned to the others, “We can retire to my study while Lord Taran has a few moments to collect himself and get dressed.”

In a few minutes the entire group, including a dressed and somewhat informed Lord Taran and the better informed and eager to be started YaDichi, sat or stood about the comfortable study of Lady Celia Firehands. Celia started the discussion, “Lets see what you have found in the Underdark, then I’ll give you what we have for supplies.” 

Will began to empty the contents of various containers, showing Celia the things they would not need. He looked to Taran and pointed to a suit of full plate armor. “This armor is enchanted and will especially protect your vital organs from grievous wounds. We also have belt of strength that you could probably use better than any of us.” 

Lord Taran took the items and nodded, “They will all be returned when the quest is at an end.”

Delorian looked about to protest Will’s freely giving the items over, but Celia quickly added, “I will compensate you all for them in the meantime.” Delorian nodded to that and settled back into the darkest corner he could find in the room.

Will continued, “These are the items of a companion that was with us a short time, a dark elf spellfire wielder named Malghym. He did not survive our last encounter.” As Will placed the items on the table he pointed to the breastplate and elven thinblade that Malaghym had carried. “These have some sort of enchantment I’m not really familiar with I…” As the group watched, Will laid the items onto the table, not thinking much about the rays of light that spilled in from the window. When the rays hit the blade and armor they instantly began to sizzle and pop. Will started and covered his face with his arm a moment. 

Delorian began to stand up, “Get them out of the sun… they’ll…” It was too late. With a hiss both items dissolved into nothingness.

Celia raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. We’ll move on.”

Will sighed and shook his head, “Damned dark elves.” He inventoried the rest of the items. A wand of minor healing went to Varick, and Lord Taran received an pair of bracers of health since no one else had use for them. 

Celia looked over the haul and nodded, “We will make sure these are put toward your expenses. We have gathered many items for you. First…” she pulled a small bag from a smaller pouch at her side. The bag bulged and clinked of glass when she set it down. “…are ten potions of healing.” 

Will began dividing them up. “Hmm, six into ten… not even… guess I’ll only take one.” He started handing out the others.

Celia stopped him. “Actually… that brings up something that we need to discuss.” She looked at Marcus. “We have learned that Zhentil Keep knows something about what is going on. We are not sure what, so we need a spy to enter the keep and find out for us. It’s a dangerous mission that requires someone who is adept at breaking and entering.” She smiled to Marcus. “Think you can handle it?”

Will smiled, “Sounds right up Marcus’ alley.”

Marcus grinned, “Anything is better than fighting undead. Those things are natural. You stab them through the heart and they just don’t seem to care. Sure… I’ll do it.” 

Celia nodded, “Great. The guards outside will show to your chambers, I’ll brief you soon.” 

Marcus stood and nodded to his companions and took his leave.

Will sighed a bit, “Well, that’s two a piece then…”

Many more potions and scrolls were handed out. Varick received a cloak of charisma, Will received bracers of armor, Delorian received gloves of dexterity, all of considerable power. Finally Celia was done handing out the supplies. “That’s most of what we have for you. Oh, here is ten thousand gold worth of diamonds, just in case.” The party members all blinked a bit in surprise and Varick took them for safe keeping, hoping he would not have to use them for their intended purpose, bringing back the dead.

“Lastly I have this for you.” Celia handed over a bag. “This bag…” She held up a bag that looked much like the one she just handed over, “… is the twin to that one. Anything put in one will appear in the other. I will have this one on me at all times. When I sleep, one of my assistants will carry it. If you need to send us something, just put it in the bag. If you need something particular, put a message in the bag. I’ll do what I can to get you supplied that way.” The group all nodded, seeing the wisdom in such devices. It would save them a lot of time and energy, not having to teleport back and forth as often. “Oh, and make sure you don’t put anything dangerous in the bag with out sending a confirmed warning.”

Several more minutes were spent getting YaDichi and Lord Taran fully briefed on where they were going, and most of what had come to pass before. With that, the group gathered for another teleport.


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## sithramir (Feb 5, 2004)

Are you guys still playing 3.0? I just noticed that drow equipment fizzled. Maybe you were just unaware that in 3.5 it no longer does that?

Good stuff as always!


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## Wraithdrit (Feb 5, 2004)

3.5, baby!

Underdark supplement.

Drowcraft. +1 cost gives a +2 bonus that only works in Faezress. Also has to make a save in daylight or dissolve.

Or in this case, since it was dead character equipment it auto failed its save!


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## Jeremy (Feb 5, 2004)

Very nice!  I like the bag idea, I continue to admire all the great ways you have of replacing fallen pc's or pc's that the player loses interest in playing as.

I'm getting ready to fire up a low level FR game hoping to eventually get the PC's embroiled in CotSQ, and I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to handle the transitions.  Thanks for the great read.


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## Wraithdrit (Feb 5, 2004)

Its tough, but with a little imagination, some thought, and enough dangling plot hooks and backgrounds you can easily incorporate new PCs into a campaign. The main thing I do is make sure that I set up a background for each PC no matter what, and tie that background into the game somehow. 

I like Ring Gates, but the thought of carrying around an 18inch metal ring that might have something come out of it at any time is a bit... well, just not comfortable to me. So I came up with this as an alternative. 

An old DM of mine had something similar to ring gates in his game, only they were the size of a bracelet. The intent was for messages, but other things could also be placed in them. 

If you wanted just a message service, you could make it a scroll case. Anyways, I'm rambling. Off to write up the next update.


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## Wraithdrit (Feb 5, 2004)

*Underdark
Outskirts of Maerimydra
Uktar 7th, 1372, A few hours into the day’s travels…*

They knew they were getting closer to Maerimydra. They had passed several wrecked and burned farms. Huge expanses of caverns had mushroom fields ravaged by mass harvesting. The few buildings this far out, mostly farm buildings, were destroyed, smashed in by some powerful force, probably giant boulders. Scorch marks marred most surfaces, and bodies littered the path. Most of the bodies were goblin, though a few were drow. All of the bodies were horribly disfigured, having suffered wounds that would make them mostly useless for raising as undead. At times there were even stacks of body parts, with no real identifiable number of dead goblins.

Delorian appeared amongst the group and spoke out softly. “There is a large patrol ahead, moving this way. A dozen goblins, half as many ogres, a cloaked figure with a small fiend on its shoulder, a pair of orc bodyguards, a fire giant, and something that looked like a red skinned troll.”

The group quickly put together an ambush plan and set it in motion. Will leapt from the ground, under the effects of flight, and looked to the others. Through the spell of telepathic bonding he asked if Taran and his mount were ready.

Taran reached down and patted the flank of the mighty lion that he sat upon. He looked up to Will and nodded. Will looked down at the huge lion, recalling the first time he saw it a couple of days earlier. 

They had just teleported back to the Underdark. It was obvious that Lord Taran’s full plate armor was going to slow them down. It was foolish to expect him to give up his armor for their speed, so alternate methods of speeding him up were discussed before Lord Taran stated he could just ‘summon his friend Gundra’. Will had instantly assumed that Gundra would be the paladin’s mount. Most paladins he had ever heard of shared a special bound with a mystical horse of some stature and build. But what real use was a horse going to be here in the Underdark? Sure they are fairly surefooted, but not enough to clamber around in these caverns.

That was when Taran had gotten a far off look and whispered, “Gundra, I need your aid again my friend.” A soft glow had appeared before the paladin and the largest lion Will had ever seen had sprung from it. The lion’s coat seemed to be made from pur silken gold. From head to rump the thing had to be near fifteen feet long. It had a massive war saddle strapped to its back, and a special bridle that would slip over its head and allow it to still be able to talk. It had landed surely on the rocks and puffed up. Pulling its head back, it sucked in the moist cave air and seemed about to roar out when its eyes glanced to and fro. In a dire lion’s version of a whisper it growled, “Perhaps this is not the best place to roar.” With that it had bounded at Taran, knocking him to the ground and licking at his face with its massive tongue, easily pinning the large armor clad warrior to the cave floor.

Taran had laughed and pushed futilely at the paw, trying to free himself, “I’m happy to see you too my old friend. Its time for us to quest once again.”

Gundra let Taran up and bumped into the man’s chest with the top of his head, then slid its head lengthwise along the paladin’s protesting arms and chest. The massive celestial beast purred, “Then questing we shall go, my friend.” The lion sat with a mighty *fwump* and nodded back at the saddle. “Your lance awaits your grasp, m’lord.” As indicated, a long banner tipped lance was set into the saddle, awaiting Taran exactly as he had left it over a hundred and fifty years ago.

Now it was time to see just how dangerous Taran, Gundra, and even the archer YaDichi were in combat. Will floated down enough that Taran could touch his leg. Gundra also reached up with his head and nudged against Will’s foot. The mage cast a spell and in a flash the trio was in the middle of the giant led goblin patrol. The cloaked figure with the imp was right in front of them. 

Before anyone could react, Gundra lashed out at the cloaked figure with his massive claws. The cloak shredded and tore away and the claws ripped into the flesh of the creature hidden beneath it. As the cloak tatters fell away, a beautiful, nearly naked female form was revealed beneath. If it were not for the fangs, glowing red eyes, and feathery wings sprouting from her back, the creature might be desirous. The horns that tipped her head and other minor features had Will stunned for a moment, this was no planetouched tiefling, but a true fiend, a Baatezu known as an Erinyes!

As if the celestial dire lion’s claws were not enough to get the fiend’s attention, Taran attacked right after his mount. He lifted his holy avenger high and cried out to Nabanion as he sliced downward with the holy blade. The blades normal glow seemed to grow even more intense as the paladin called on the energy of his god. The blade slammed deep into the fiend’s shoulder, nearly to where her heart should be.

Back down the corridor, just around the bend, YaDichi fingered the ring on her right hand, triggering a spell stored within.

The various members of the patrol started to try and counter the swift attack, but before they could even raise their weapons, Will was casting again.

He held his hands up and called down a massive series of fiery explosions. The fire brands blasted all around the patrol, flinging ogres and goblins around like rag-dolls. The fiend was unaffected, as was the fire giant, but the troll, and the fiend’s twin guards screamed in pain. The imp was incinerated with a tiny fiendish scream. When the flames cleared, of the goblins and ogres, only four goblins remained standing. 

Gundra lashed out at the Erinyes again. This time he reared up a little and slashed with both his sets of claws, trying to push the fiend to the ground. Lastly he lunged forward, and with a mighty growl bit the head from the Erinyes’ body. The fiend’s form fizzled and disappeared in a foul smelling smoke, its ‘death’ having forced it back to its home plane.

Taran turned in the saddle to the fire giant, standing next to him. The giant was getting its bearings still, and Taran quickly lashed out. The entire group had a spell of haste cast upon them before they ambushed the patrol. As a result Taran’s blade bit into the giant’s flesh three of the four times he found opening in the giants defenses. Even as he fought, the paladin kept an eye on the two strange fiendish looking orcs in front of Gundra. Will had heard Delorian’s description of them and had called them Tanarukk, some sort of fiend blooded orc. 

The two both lashed out at Gundra multiple times. They lashed out with their axes as well as with spiked shields on their off hands. Taran pushed with his knees to one side, and Gundra recognized the signal and twisted that direction. An axe swipe that would have surely sliced into the lion’s leg fell only open air because of the maneuver. The second Tanarukk did managed to connect once with his axe, but its nonmagical blade barely sliced into Gundra’s tough celestial hide.

Yadichi moved forward a bit more, finally seeing her intended targets. One of the tanarukks was behind the giant. YaDichi dropped three magical arrows onto her bow, pulled back the string and lifted the bow. Her eyes focused down the middle shaft, and the spell she had just triggered from the ring guided her arms and her sight. She let fly, and the bowstring propelled the three arrows forward at an intense speed. All three arrows punched through the giants midsection, passed through into the tanarukk’s head, then continued through to smash against the wall behind the tanarukk. Both creatures crumpled to the ground, dead.

Besides the second bodyguard and a few goblins the only thing left standing was the red skinned troll. Will could see that it had a fiery gaze in its eyes. Between that and the spines that jutted from its joints, the mage assumed it was some sort of planetouched troll. His firebrand had hurt it, but not nearly as much as it should. What was worse, he could see the burns he had inflicted already crusting over and flaking away. This troll could regenerate damage from fire! The beast turned away from them all, and seemed to gather energy from within itself. Will’s arcane sight recognizes the energies that surrounded it. It was hasting itself. The thing could not only regenerate fire damage, but it had innate spellcasting abilities! He was suddenly glad that there was only one of them.

The troll-thing spun and bounded down the passage toward Maerimydra, churning up the ground with massive hasted strides. Will smiled and used the telepathic bond. “Coming your way Delorian.”

“Already on it,” Delorian chimed back as he appeared ahead of the troll in mid leap. His foot slammed into the troll’s head. Between its forward momentum and his kick, the troll had no chance to keep its footing. It sprawled out on the ground, laid flat easily despite its massive size advantage over the monk. 

As Delorian came down he twisted and landed with both knees slamming into the troll. He was really starting to like that move. Bone cracked beneath his knees and quickly rolled back of the troll, not wanting to get easily snatched up by it. 

Meanwhile Will spun on the last bodyguard, muttering a quick few syllables of magic incantations. Small globes of energy appeared beside him and spiraled into the tanarukk, blasting it off its feet and removing large vital chunks of its chest. It was dead before it even hit the ground.

Gundra leapt forward as Taran leveled his sword and pointed at the back of the troll at the edge of his drakvision. He was glad for the magic rings that the Mystrans had provided him and YaDichi, allowing them to both see in the darkness of the Underdark. Gundra loped over the jagged cavern floor, easily closing the distance. In the end it was not really necessary. 

Delorian was light on his feet, and waiting for the troll to try and get up. When it got halfway to its feet, he stepped up with a quick roundhouse kick. He followed that with a backhand from his left hand and a hook from his right hand, then continued to spin and connected with a second roundhouse kick. The troll’s head whipped back and forth, its nose breaking with a nasty crunch, finally its neck snapped under the continued pressure and it fell to the ground, dead. 

Well. Mostly dead. Delorian could see that it was already starting to heal its wounds. 

YaDichi moved toward the group, followed by Varick. YaDichi’s bow was still going. She quickly two goblins as she stalked forward, looking for the rest of them.

The two goblins left standing threw their weapons down and dropped to their knees with their hands up. In common one screamed, “Don’t kill us! Don’t kill us!”

The other one whimpered, “I soiled myself.”

Will frowned and flew to the troll body. He quickly launched a blast of his scorching rays into the creature, but when even that did not end the regeneration he growled out loud. “Fire doesn’t kill it…”

Taran dropped from the saddle and nodded toward the goblins. Gundra bounded over and stood over them growling deeply. One of the two fainted, the other just whimpered and covered its head, waiting to be eaten.

Taran turned back toward the troll. “Perhaps we could slice it up and send it through the bag?” He stabbed his avenger through the things head in an attempt to slow its regeneration. When the holy blade contacted the foul flesh it sizzled and burned away and did not regenerate back. “Or perhaps not.” He quickly laid the creature to rest with a few cuts of his holy blade.

Will floated down in front of the goblin, beside Gundra. The giant cat sat back on its haunches and began cleaning his claws. Will looked at Gundra a moment, one eyebrow cocked. Each claw was the size of his largest dagger. He tried to focus on the task at hand. Turning the goblin he thrust a finger at it, “Tell me what you know before I blast you on the spot.” Gundra looked at the mage and seemed to  an eyebrow.

“I tell you anything! Just don’t let it eat me!”

The other goblin began to come to. At least now it was moaning instead of just laying in its own puddle.

“Tell us what happened in the city.”

“We smashed it. Bash, bash… black elves no more. Mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“There still the squishy bits in the center of the city, and the ones that don’t stay dead.”

“Won’t stay dead?”

The goblin thrust up his arms like a zombie and rolled its head to one side and rolled its eyes into the back of its head, “Yeah, you know… uhhhhh, brains.”

Will tried not to smile. “Who leads your army?”

The goblin got wide eyes and lowered its arms, “Kurgoth do.”

“And what or who is Kurgoth?”

The goblin shoved a finger at the dead fire giant corpse. “Like him. Only bigger. And has wings, and spikes, and fiery eyes. He Kurgoth. He smash elf city. He have fiend in him.”

Will nodded, “What do you know of the fiends?” 

The goblin bit its lower lip then began prattling on about them too. “Kurgoth have many fiends with him. Some like her. Others bigger. Others nastier, much nastier. And the little ones. Lots of the little ones. They flitter all over the city, watching and spyings. They watches us and watch the black elf castle. Then they flit, flit, flit.” The goblin flapped its arm like little wings. “Or poof.” He spread his hands as if a little puff of smoke. “Poof. They gone. And poof they appears near Kurgoth, and whispers in his ear. Chitter, chitter, chitter, while he sits and pets his elephant.”

“Elephant?” Will blinked in surprise. “Whats the elephant look like?”

The goblin looked surprised this time, then shrugged. “Like an elephant? Its Kurgoth’s pet.”

Will nodded, “Who guards the north gate?”

The goblin hopped up and down, getting more and more excited. “Four of them!” He pointed at the giants. 

Will frowned, “Four?”

The goblin nodded and held up his hand, showing one finger after another, “Yes, four. One, six, eight, four! Four giants. They have big thing they put in front of gate and watch from behind. Then when they need to get in and out they move the big thing. They watch from behind it, ready to smash anything that come near with their big rocks! Smash, smash!” The goblin fell back as if hit by a big boulder. His legs and arms went up in the air and he stuck his tongue out and closed his eyes as if dead. He whispered softly, “Smash…”

Will sighed, tiring of the goblin’s antics. “Alright, you and your friend. Get out of here, now. If I ever see you again, I’ll burn you on the spot before you even have time to say ‘oops’.”

The goblin went wide eyed again, “Oops?” He thought a moment then nodded quickly. “We go. No oops. Oops bad.” He grabbed and shook his moaning companion who woke up finally. “We go now. No oops.” He turned and started walking toward Maerimydra.

Will cleared his throat. The goblin looked back and Will was pointing the other direction. 

The goblin smiled and chuckled nervously. “Oops.”


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## Eccles (Feb 6, 2004)

I just had to post to say that "that goblin update is probably your best ever".

Or is it evar? I lose track of things.

Also, "ratbag - you've overtaken me!"

Keep up the good work. Have you just had a whole bunch of new players, then?


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## Wraithdrit (Feb 6, 2004)

Nope. Malaghym croaked, so he brought in YaDichi. Marcus' player felt useless (very few traps thus far, lots of undead = hard to sneak attack, etc). So he pink slipped Marcus and brought in Lord Taran noc Damar. Gundra is Taran's Celestial Dire Lion Special Mount Cohort (what a title, maybe C.D.L.S.M.C. for short?).

Thanks for the praise. The best is yet to come really. I think the modifications to the plot of CotSQ I've come up with are pretty decent, and its all I can do to bite my tongue and not blab about them all the time.

Oh, and Tursa should be back in the next update or two.


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## Jeremy (Feb 7, 2004)

w00t


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## Wraithdrit (Mar 8, 2004)

*Underdark
Just outside the Maerimydra Northern Gate
Uktar 7th, 1372, ‘Mid-day’*

Delorian pulled the shadows of the wall out and across him and was gone. 

YaDichi leaned around the corner. Sure enough, just as Delorian had described, there was a large gated wall, some two hundred feet away. She could easily make out the silhouette of a pair of giants peeking around either side of the ruined gate. Large barricades had been laid in front of the openings. Fires behind the giants lit them from behind. YaDichi marveled that anyone could be so foolish as she lifted her bow up into position. In rapid succession she let fly a series of four arrows. Three found their mark, ripping straight through the left of the two giants. 

The giant howled and spun away, its companion, equally surprised by the unusually powerful shots pulled back as well. 

Above them, atop the wall, next to the ballista facing out toward the long corridor, Delorian stepped out of the shadows. Shadows followed him, cloaking him completely from sight.

Around the bend he could hear Gundra, with Taran aboard, bounding down the long massive corridor toward the gate. Though neither of them said anything, Delorian could easily hear the full-plate wearing paladin clanking along in the saddle.

Behind them all Varick cast a quick spell, a shimmering shield of energy rippling up and around him. Will, watching it all through an arcane eye, muttered a few arcane words. A sheer invisible wall of force appeared behind the giants, cutting off any escape.

Delorian grabbed a hold of the massive drow made ballista and started turning it around, trying to get it to face toward the giants. He pivoted it as far as he could then started to move the heavy wood frame to the side, trying to turn it even further.

The heroes knew that there were four giants behind the wall, Will’s arcane eye having seen the whole thing prior to their unleashing the attack.

Taran and Gundra bounded closer, the massive lion leaping to one side as a boulder smashed the ground where they had been moments before. All four giants were coming out of hiding. Two kneeled by the gate doors, while two stood on massive piles of rubble behind the wall, look over the wall. 

One of the giants at the gate stood up, moving to grab the ballista. When he saw the angle it was at he got a bit confused and started to try and turn it back straight again. Delorian took the opportunity to let go of the ballista. Instead of hitting the giant with his fist, his hand went to his new belt, and the nunchaku stored there.

The new items, three in all, had come through the bag while they were finishing the trek to the gate. A belt of strength, an enchanted nunchaku, and an amulet of protection had all arrived for him, courtesy of Lady Firehands. Will had assured him that they were heavily enchanted, and not cursed, so Delorian had put his old monk’s belt, and amulet of mighty fists in the bag. 

Delorian whipped the weapon out and spun it around to the side, clanging it off the giant’s head. But since Delorian was no longer holding onto the ballista, the giant, shrugging off the blow to its helmet, quickly spun the weapon, shoving Delorian easily to the side.

Taran lifted his shield, his divine faith in its protective power combined with the shields enchantment, easily knocking aside another massive rock one of the giants tossed at him. Another boulder flew past him, wide to one side.

YaDichi smiled as she saw the giant she had already peppered with arrows, fighting with Delorian for control of the ballista. She muttered to herself, “Like hitting the broadside of a barn.” Three more arrows ripped literally through the giant’s chest. With a huff the giant fell back from the wall, presumably dead.

Will, still watching through the eye, muttered a few more words of arcane power. Behind the gate, massive black tentacles ripped out of the ground and started trying to grab at the remaining giants. Two of them shrugged it off, but one was held fast by the writhing tentacles.

Delorian, giving up on moving the massive ballista, spun around and along the wall. His new nunchaku spun expertly through his hands, and around his body. He lashed out three different times at the closest giant, but between the creature’s thick hide and full plate armor, even the heavily enchanted nunchaku did not seem to have any effect.

Gundra stopped at the entrance to the gate. The massive lion put one paw up on the large barricade and lashed out with his other paw. Claws pierced the giant’s armor, and it howled in pain. Taran followed up Gundra’s attack with two of his own. One, particularly cruel strike from the holy avenger dug deep into the kneeling giants chest. Blood poured freely from the near deadly wound.

Varick, huffing and puffing all the way, ran toward the gate. He muttered something under his breath as he saw YaDichi nimbly bound past him. 

The giant that Delorian had hit unsheathed his massive greatsword and slammed it into the monk. Luckily both Taran and Delorian still had the magical enchantment Will called ‘stoneskin’ from the ambush of the patrol. The giant’s sword swing still hurt, but it did not do near the damage it would have if Delorian had not been protected. At the same time, Taran’s protections were being similarly tested. The giant he and Gundra had attacked had also pulled free his sword and smashed it into the ancient holy warrior.

The last giant ripped free of the tentacles and drew his sword as well. 

Will finally walked around the corner and down towards the fight. As he walked he cast a simple spell, small glowing balls of energy spiraling forward to slam into the wounded giant.

Delorian tried one more time to hit with his nunchaku, but still he could not get through the giant’s thick armor. The monk flipped back off the wall, backing up to try and get out of the reach of the massive sword. The giant followed him though. It leaned over the wall, and used its long reach and huge greatsword to swing out at the monk. Surprised as he was at the giants massive reach, Delorian was not able to duck the mighty swing. It cut through his stoneskin and spun him to one side. The giant pressed the attack, swinging back around. This time Delorian was ready and he easily dived over the incoming attack. The giant spun and brought the attack straight down, trying to slice the monk in half. Again Delorian was quicker. He rolled back and to the side, easily dodging the attack. 

Taran and Gundra pressed their attack. While Gundra was not able to find purchase for his attacks, Taran stabbed forward into the giant’s arm. The giant howled in pain and slashed up into Taran’s own arm. Gundra and Taran were unfazed by the attack though. They pressed forward even more. Gundra ripped a chunk from the giant and Taran stabbed out at him three different times. His first attack pierced the giant’s arm. The second pierced its shoulder. Finally Taran stabbed in the middle of the giant’s chest, killing it.

To Taran’s horror, as the giant died the air around it seemed to shiver. The giant’s spirit seemed to take form around its body, and with a look of horror on the spirit’s face, it was drawn away into the massive cavern beyond, leaving only a small quickly fading trail of a glow. “Something is drawing in their spirits!” yelled the paladin.

YaDichi stopped, dropped to one knee and quickly let loose a series of four arrows. The first two ripped through one of the remaining giants.

Varick strode up, softly muttering a prayer. Divine power coursed through the cleric as he moved to prepare to engage the next available target.

Both of the remaining fire giants, jumped over the wall to escape the grasp of the tentacles. Varick and Taran both took advantage of the giant’s awkward landings to hit them with their respective weapons. 

YaDichi continued to concentrate on the giant she had wounded. She fired four more arrows. The first one hit, then the second one hit. The third one ripped through the middle of the giant’s chest, and it shuddered, its spirit appearing around it then being ripped back into the city as the giant’s body crumbled dead to the ground. YaDichi quickly spun and put an arrow through the remaining giant.

Delorian leapt forward, his nunchaku spinning. He spun one of the wooden handles into the giant’s knee, this time it connected well, and the giant howled in pain. Before it could react, Delorian was back flipping back out of range of even its long reach.

Gundra and Taran both began ripping into the giant. The giant never had a chance. Varick moved up, slamming his morningstar into the giant as well. It fumbled with its sword, barely able to stand. It tried to hit Varick back, but missed over and over again.

Finally, a single arrow from YaDichi flew through the giant’s chest. Again they saw the giant’s spirit shudder and get drawn from its body, sucked back into the city. This time, Will was concentrating on his arcane eye. He could see the energy now, coursing all around them. The energy seemed to draw and push the spirit back into the city, heading back towards the center of the massive cavern beyond. 

Will strode forward, to the edge of the rippling bubble of energy that seemed to surround the city. It undulated before him, obvious now that his arcane sight was looking for it. Even as he watched it seemed to pulse and grow several inches thicker. It almost seemed alive. Its presence seemed to have a very chilling effect on all of the heroes. Will described it to the others, then said, “I don’t like it at all.”

Varick nodded, “This is the disturbance of the weave. I can feel the evil flowing from it.”

Taran nodded, “As can I. It is a dark presence indeed.”

YaDichi jogged up, “We need to move quickly, before reinforcements arrive.”

“Agreed,” said Delorian as he joined the small huddle. 

They passed through the gates, and could see that the ground sloped down in front of them into a massive cavern. The cavern was filled with smoke. Instead of hanging thick in the air though, the smoke slowly twirled this way and that. For a brief moment the smoke cleared and the sight took the heroes’ breath away. 

Before them lay the remnants of a once beautiful drow city. Ancient well-shaped stone lay smashed in huge fields of rubble. Mushroom fields lay barren around the city, picked clean by the invaders. Large fires burned all around the city, massive campfires surrounded by humanoids and giants. Some buildings still stood, but many were nothing more than massive piles of broken stone. Long ago cast spells of fairy fire lit different piles of rubble, the enchantments holding even after the stone had fallen. 

On the west side of the city atop a plateau with larger more intact buildings lay a smoking crater surrounded by a large spider shaped wall. Large glowing globes hung near its entrance.

On the far south side of the city ruins a huge circular coliseum stood, mostly untouched by the collapse of the city. Humanoids and giants could be seen moving in and out of the massive building.

It was the sight in the center of the city that dominated the landscape though. A single massive castle, built of two massive towers stretched all the way from the floor of a plateau to the top of the massive caverns. It glowed from mystic enchantments, and was surround by a ring of fires. It was a picket line, the invasion of Maerimydra was not ended. Someone, or something still held Castle Maerimydra from the giants attacks. 

Will whistled softly, “That is something you don’t see every day.”

“We should find some place to hole up until we decide our next actions.” Delorian shifted and looked up to the plateaus on the west side, with their semi intact buildings. He continued, “If we pull back from the gates, they will only reinforce them even more next time.”

Taran patted Gundra on the head, “Time to return to your home my friend. Hide you amongst the rubble will be difficult at best.” The massive cat nodded, bumped its head into Taran and ran its huge cheek along his shoulder in a typical loving cat gesture, then vanished with a soft glow.

They discussed a bit further, and moved quickly towards the more expensive looking ruins atop the western plateau. It looked to have once been a noble district. Circumventing several small bivouacs, they soon found a good set of ruins to hole up inside. Between the ambush of the patrol and the fight at the gate, they could use some time to gather their wits, rest, and memorize their spells. They had a long hard task ahead of them, and time was not going to be on their side for long.

*Outside the Undying Temple
Maerimydra
Uktar 7th, 1372, ‘Mid-day’*

Mother stood gazing at the massive black glowing orb that hung in the middle of the twisted temple. Beside her stood one of her most trusted lieutenants, Khumarr. His demon armor gave him a fierce looking visage, and though his tone and stance was respectful of his companion, his air was one of confidence and almost amusement. A massive greatsword was strapped to his back. The High Priestess’ bodyguards stood back and to one side, behind even Khumarr.

They watched the orb spin and undulate. Khumarr spoke first, “How goes the research?”

His companion looked back and up at him. He was tall for a drow. “The secrets of Kiriansalee’s desires are known to be more every day. The Great Revenance is not far off.”

“And what of the surface dwellers?”

“They concern me, but not overly so. Last time I checked they were still wandering through the Underdark. Though they were close. I should check on them again. Lets go do that shall we?” 

As they strode toward the temple a shimmering spirit zipped past them, sucked up into the orb with an eerie howling scream of anguish. Khumarr grinned, “That looked like a fire giant spirit. Someone must have anger Kurgoth.”

The High Priestess chuckled, “That fool will end up killing all his own troops before he ever penetrates our defenses.”

Steps before they entered the temple another spirit, then another, and finally a fourth spirit all howled their way into the orb, sucked in by its dark energies. Both drow had frozen in their steps at the sight. Khumarr muttered. “Four dead fire giants. Not even Kurgoth is that stupid. One of our patrols must have stumbled on one of theirs.”

“Then were are the orcs? The goblins?  The trolls? No… one of the gates must have fallen.” She moved into the temple, her pace quickening.

Khumarr grinned, “The surface dwellers must not be as lost in the Underdark as you thought.” 

The glare she shot at him was enough to end his mirth for a while.

They walked into the temple and up into the Greater Temple. 

A voice in both their heads spoke softly, “Mistress, Khumarr, welcome back. Everything is as you desire.”

Absently the High Priestess nodded, “Good.”

She motioned for one of the rotting forms to come forward. What was once a drow noble, was now nothing more than a mobile candlestick. It shambled forward and Khumarr lit the candle.

The High Priestess nodded to another one of the rotting nobles and it shambled over to her altar, carrying a large bowl. A third zombie noble shambled forward holding an aspergill. She took it from him and sprinkled water into the large water filled bowl. Handing the aspergill back, she turned to a zombie that was always kneeling beside her altar. It held a massive book. She opened it to a marked page and muttered the prayer beneath her breath. The water in the bowl clouded up, then swirled about before a smoky image appeared. 

“They are through the North gate and headed toward the noble district.” She frowned down at the image in the bowl.

“I will gather a strike team and…”

“No.” She cut him off and turned toward him. “We do not need to waste our effort on them. Kurgoth’s forces still stand between us and them. Notify the defenses, but otherwise take no action. We need to concentrate on our task at hand.” She strode out of the temple, snatching something up as she went. Khumarr had to walk quickly to keep up, even with his longer legs. They stopped at one of the landings alongside the large black orb of dark power. The close proximity to the black orb was already beginning to suck their life energy from their bodies. 

The High Priestess called out, “Be aware, we may have visitors soon.”

The voice from the Greater Temple replied, “As you command, so it will be.”

“Notify Paelinn the moment they arrive. She will know what to do.”

The voice replied, “As you command, so it will be.”

Khumarr grimaced at the pain of standing on the landing, but held his ground as the High Priestess dropped to her knees. This time she was speaking to something other than him and the voice. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she cried out, “Kiriansalee!” Winds whipped at her white gauzy robes, easily revealing her naked form beneath. Khumarr had to steady himself to keep from being blown back by the wind. The orb pulsed faster and faster.

The High Priestess continued, “Mistress of the Dead! I follow your will, working to bring the Great Revenance as you commanded! But your aid is needed!”

The orb seemed to ripple with each of her words. “Help me to accomplish your goals! Give me the guidance I need to do your will!”

The wind gathered even more force, the gigantic orb spun in place so fast it looked like it might fly off in any direction at any moment. “For your aid I give you another gift!” She lifted her hands to reveal a massive gem with a rune carved on either side, the halfling gem the party had found in the Mines of Tethyamar!

Khumarr almost felt he could hear a growl of hunger beneath the howl of the wind. He grabbed onto the doorframe of the door leading back off the landing, keeping himself from being ripped of the landing. The kneeling priestess stood pulled back, then threw the gem into the center of the sphere.

The wind died immediately, and the orb slowed its spin once again. On the edge of the city, the weave corruption bubbled, rippled and shot forward fifty feet, expanding farther from the city at a highly accelerated rate.

The voice once again cut into both of their minds, “As you command, so it will be.”

A ray of darkness shot forth from the orb, piercing the High Priestess in the forehead. Her body went rigid, and she shook as the ray poured energy into her form. Blood trickled from her eyes and ears. Then finally the ray was gone, and everything was as it had been. She collapsed into Khumarr’s arms, and he quickly took her off the landing. He headed toward her chambers, but she grabbed his shoulder with her metal clawed hand. “No!” she hissed, “Into the temple chamber.”

“But you are weak, you need to rest.”

She dug her hand into his shoulder, the metal claws easily piercing his armor. “I am not weak! The Greater Temple! Now before I slay for your insolence!”

“Yes mistress.” He carried her into the Greater Temple and set her down in front of the altar. 

She collapsed to the floor then pulled her self up to half kneeling in front of the altar. She spun on the zombie with the book and quickly turned it to the first blank page. She turned to another zombie and flipped open a small silver box. From beside the box she pulled a quill. She stabbed it into beating heart within the box, wetting its tip with blood. Quickly she began scribbling into the book, wanting to get the knowledge she had just been imparted down before it fled her memory. 

Khumarr backed away slowly, then turned and strode out of the room. Behind him he could hear her laughing maniacally. He grinned and spoke aloud. “Be sure to make sure no one disturbs her.”

Again the voice replied, “As you command, so it will be.” The doors to the Greater Temple slowly swung closed then latched.

Khumarr nodded, “Good, I have preparations to make.”

*Ruins of House Tinv’la
Maerimydra
Uktar 8th, 1372, Just after midnight*

Delorian was out scouting around, while the others made preparations. Will sat down beside Varick and whispered, “How long till you can pray to your goddess?”

Varick looked up at the ceiling, as if he could see up to the sky beyond. “Hours still. I can’t really tell what time it is, but I know we are not near dawn yet. Mystra grants power at dawn.”

Will nodded. “I have only prepped a few spells, some scrying and vision spells. I’m going to cast them and see what I can find out. Then when you are done with your preparations, and cast whatever divinations you decide on, I can better know what to prepare for the day.”

“Sounds good. Let us know what you find out.” The priest turned back to the small book of prayers and meditations he was studying. 

As Will stood to go implement his plan he was surprised to see that many of the pages of the book Varick was flipping through actually contained arcane spells. He smirked, remembering that Varick had told him before that he could use a certain prayer to mimic arcane spells if he had a copy of the spell. That was definitely a versatile ability.

An hour later they all gathered together to relate what they had learned. 

“I was able to scout about the higher plateaus,” started Delorian. “There are a few bivouacs up here, but near what they seem to be in the city. The destroyed temple seems devoid of any life, but I dared not go into its bounds without us prepared for a fight.”

Will smiled, “Probably wise… I drove one of my arcane eyes in there. A massive black figure of darkness stepped from the shadows and paralyzed me with its mere gaze, through the eye! It wore off soon enough, but the eye was destroyed before I could learn anything more.”

“Beyond the temple though, I did learn a great deal. The shattered tower, the mage school that the beholder’s former prisoner told us about is utterly destroyed. There is definite faint magic still there, though it could just be the remnants of past spells. This entire city is infused with so many old castings, at times its hard to tell what is new and what is old.

“The coliseum is definitely Kurgoth’s stronghold. Several fire giants, his elephant, and the big man himself. He looks more than just fiend-blooded. I would say he is probably a half-fiend, which makes him very dangerous. He carries a flaming greatsword, and has massive bat wings. He was attended by several giants, trolls, and the like. Also there was a fairly large devil, called a Cornugon, that reported to him. Cornugon can also fly, so we need to watch out for it patrolling. He also had a swarm of imps reporting to him all the time, chances are by now he knows the gate guards were defeated, but I don’t think they know where we are yet.”

The castle is under heavy siege, but shows little signs of damage. There are several ways into it. I don’t see why the giants have not sacked it. Its defenses can’t be any more stout than taking an entire drow city. There are definite enchantments on the building though, and they may be why the giants have held back. No real way to know that with what we have found out so far. That’s about all I found out.”

Varick spoke next. “We got a note from the temple. They successfully cast a locate object on both Mother and the Halfling Gem. As of yesterday morning they were both within the city limits of Maerimydra, in some place called the Undying Temple.”

The others all nodded and were about to discuss it when Varick held up a hand. “There is a catch though. They are both on the Ethereal Plane.”


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## Wraithdrit (Mar 22, 2004)

*Ruins of the Merchant District
Maerimydra
Uktar 8th, 1372, Mid-day*

Delorian reappeared in the midst of the skulking heroes. “Found something. Looks like a pack of ghouls. They are feeding a fallen group of Kurgoth’s lesser minions.”

Will glanced around at the others then muttered, “I guess that proves the giant-fiend does not have the undead as bottled up as we hoped.”

Taran nodded and twisted his grip on his holy avenger a bit. “We should destroy them. They are already dead, their essence might not be drawn in like the giants.”

YaDichi frowned. “Only one way to find out.” She replaced her standard arrow into her quiver and pulled out a black-shafted arrow and laid it across her bow. 

A plan was quickly hatched and the group moved up through the hanging smoke, toward the feeding ghouls. As Taran and Varick strode calmly forward the others stayed back a ways, watching for other enemies. Delorian was already on the other side of the small mass of undead, waiting for the combat to begin. 

One of the ghouls snapped its head up, having heard the approach of the heavily armored pair. It hissed something out in dark elven and began racing toward the priest and paladin. Soon all of its mates were charging in behind it, loping on all fours towards the waiting holy warriors.

Varick glanced at Taran as the ghouls approached. He smiled and then turned to look back at the ghouls as he raised his morning star. “By the power of Mystra, lay down, and be at rest! May her light shine on the darkness of your souls and flow through your hearts, undead be gone!” Light ripped forth from his holy symbol and bathed over the ghouls. They cried out and threw up their hands. Already charging forward, their momentum brought them further into the light. Pale unnatural undead flesh turned the natural colors of rotting drow flesh and animated forms fell to the ground as cold dead corpses.

Taran strode forward, his shield held in defense. Two of the ghouls had held back. They were moving forward now, but slower, watching and analyzing what the holy warriors had done to their companions. He noticed that they looked different. Their mouths opened to reveal a long snake like tongue that seemed to dissolve into a dark smoky end. He did not know what they were, but he knew his holy avenger would easily bite into their flesh. 

One of the demonic ghouls leapt forward, and Taran met it with a mighty strike of his holy sword. The ghoul screamed and spun away, clutching its side. But in an instant was back on him. He shoved his shield into the beast’s chest pushing it back. 

The other ghoul was circling around trying to flank Taran, but Varick moved up to get in the way. A trio of black-shafted arrows ripped through the ghoul, huge chunks of undead flesh burning away where the arrows had touched. Varick stepped up and slammed his morning star into the wounded ghoul’s head, sending it sprawling to the ground, never to stand again.

The ghoul on Taran clawed at his armor, but the paladin easily stepped back and with two more strong blows of his sword send the thing into the ground. 

The field of battle was suddenly silent again. Will stepped up to beside YaDichi and whispered something to him. The archer nodded. Will spun quickly and fifty feet to one side a cloud of glittering dust exploded around a small imp shaped invisible form. Arrows flew from YaDichi’s bow, and before the little outsider could even cry out, it was dead.

The group gathered together and Will growled, “Damned imps.” 

“What now?” asked YaDichi.

Taran nodded to the ruins surrounding them. “We keep exploring.”

A few minutes later as the group pushed on through the ruins Varick’s voice broke into everyone’s head through Will’s telepathic bond spell. “I just saw two drow watching us from that last window on the left side of the street.”

Will responded with telepathy. “Keep moving. Delorian, go into the next good alleyway.”

They gathered together in the alley and it was quickly decided that Delorian would go in and try to use his status as a shade to talk to the drow. After all, they knew there was a Shadovar ambassador somewhere in the city.

Delorian appeared in the middle of the ruined inn, his hands held open and to the side. The moment he appeared, one of the drow yelped in surprise and fired off his hand crossbow. Delorian easily slapped the bolt out of the air. “I mean you know harm. I come to talk.”

The young drow began reloading his crossbow, ignoring the shade’s words. Delorian spoke again, “You have seen that weapon is useless against me.”

In Undercommon, the drow growled as he reloaded, “Just keep standing there, idiot surface dweller.”  Not understanding, Delorian relayed his words through the telepathic link. 

Will chuckled and told Delorian through the bond, “He doesn’t believe you.” 

The other drow in the room spoke in Undercommon to the younger one, “Wait… he is not attacking.” In accented common he spoke to Delorian, “What do you want, surface dweller?”

“To talk to you. I mean you no harm. I am here to assess the situation in the city.”

The older drow chuckled and motioned around him. “Easy enough to see. Now move along.”

“Not yet. You and your friend are scouts for those in charge?”

“Hardly. We answer to only ourselves.”

“So you are former followers of Lolth.”

“Lolth, Kiriansalee, Kurgoth… all masters we care nothing about.”

“Interesting… the two of you survived this long alone.”

“Who says we are alone?”

“Interesting indeed. Perhaps we can help each other then…”

“And how would you help me?” asked the drow.

“I can give you information about what I have seen in other parts of the city.” Delorian watched both drow, having to glance around to see them both.

“You think something goes on in this city that we don’t already know about? Not likely. But I tell you what. You will talk to someone else, not I. Wait here. I will get him.”

Varick’s voice broke into Delorian’s head. “One more coming your direction through the ruins.” As the older drow went downstairs the back door of the inn opened up and an orange skinned female goblin walked in. She blinked at the strange sight. 

In Undercommon the young drow muttered, “We have company… watch him, he can block bolts with his bare hands.” 

The goblin looked at the young drows drawn and pointed hand crossbow and then to the monk. “Then why are you pointing that at him?”

The young drow looked down at the hand crossbow then to Delorian. Understanding the exchange despite the language barrier, the shade monk just smiled ever so slightly. The young drow growled, “I might be able to hit him next time.”

The goblin nodded, “Right.” She rolled her eyes and muttered something in goblin. Delorian assumed it was a disparaging remark.

Soon the older drow stepped back upstairs with a third drow. This one was well built, with short black dyed hair. He had a greatsword strapped across his back. “Well, my companion has told me of your offer. I am intrigued.” The drow’s common was near perfect. “Why don’t you tell your companions to join us?”

About that time Varick broke into the telepathic bond. “Um… guys… that rat has been watching us for the past five minutes. Rats don’t do that do they?”

Delorian frowned, “You have a rat friend?” The drow leader’s eyebrows shot up. 

“Indeed. Tell your friends to join us, and the rat will watch for us.”

Delorian nodded. In the telepathic bond he spoke, “Come on in guys… I think they are non-hostile enough that we might get information out of them.”

Soon the entire group was escorted down into an old wine cellar that had been converted into an impressive little hide out. All sorts of fine drow furnishing and other items of loot were scattered about. The drow leader spoke as he sat down in a huge high backed chair. “I am called Hamadh. What is it you think you can do for me?”

Will spoke up, “We have information about the city.”

Hamadh looked bored. “I have more information about what is going on here than you could possibly know. Something I can use or spend would be much better.”

Will nodded, “We could pay for information. Besides, we are here to do more than just scout. We intend to stop the cult of Kiriansalee. Surely this would benefit you.”

Hamadh smiled now, “Of course it would. You will be leaving when you are done, correct?”

Will nodded. “Of course, we’ve no desire to live here.”

“And what makes you think you can do what Kurgoth’s army can not?”

Delorian spoke up, “We are no army of brutes.”

“So I see. Well then, what can I do for you?” Hamadh picked at the wood handle of the fine chair he sat in.

“We need information on the castle’s defenses,” said Varick. An earlier communing with Mystra had revealed it to be the center of the cult of Kiriansalee’s operations.

“I’ve never been inside, so I can not tell you what the interior defenses are like. But I can get you inside.”

Taran nodded, “Somehow I knew you would be capable.”

Hamadh grinned, “We have not just survived here… we see and hear much. The question is… how much money did you bring?”

A short time later, a deal having been struck the heroes decided that they would spend the rest of the day exploring the ruins, then after resting they would meet back up with Hamadh’s hidden group when they were ready to enter into the castle. They knew that had to be fully prepared when they went into the castle, as once they were inside, the chances of getting out and then back in would be slim. Hamadh assured them that his getting them into the castle would only work once.

The group stood upstairs in the inn. They had decided that they would check out the old temple of lolth. The dark creature that dwelled there was undead and thus probably on the side of the cult. It had used fear to paralyze Will before, and the magical feast that Varick had prepared for them at the beginning of the day rendered them immune from its frightening gaze. A plan set, and their best enchantments cast, the group locked hands for a quick Will-provided teleport. 

The moment they appeared Will began casting, Delorian concentrated, and several more shade monks seemed to appear around his form, YaDichi rolled her magic ring around on her hand, feeling the spell of true striking flowing through her body, Varick began a loud prayer, and Taran charged across the crater toward where Will said the massive form stood. 

The darkness seemed to swell around them, and Will’s spell of glitterdust erupted around the massive form, clinging to it’s invisible hide, showing right where it was. Taran thrust his holy sword deep into the surprised creature as Delorian stepped through the shadows, appearing next to the massive undead form, his nunchaku spinning and slamming into the thing.

Varick’s prayer ended and he smiled as bands of color seemed to float up around the creature before disappearing. Into the telepathic bond he muttered, “Its resistance to spells is lowered Will. Do you thing.”

The creature howled out and floated up into the air. Both of its hands glowed. From one hand black energy rolled out and exploded around Taran and Delorian, wracking them with pain, deep lashes and cuts appearing on their bodies. From the other hand a huge cone of cold blasted over Taran and sprayed back over YaDichi, Will, and Varick.  It had been surprised, but its reactions were powerful and dangerous.


YaDichi took a few steps to the side, dropped down to a knee and fired off three arrows in rapid succession. Massive chunks of the creature dissolved away where the arrows touched, the mighty enchantments of her bow showing why it was a legendary weapon. The creature howled in pain, locking its fearful gaze on YaDichi, its eyes blazing with fury. The young archer just narrowed her eyes and reached for more arrows.

Will ran to one side, stopped, skidding on the loose stones of the crater. His hands came up and he cast a spell, then spoke into the telepathic bond, “Binding it to this realm.” Huge mystical chains seemed to grow from the ground and wrap about the beast. While they stretched to move as it did, not binding it physically, Will knew it was not going to use magic to get out of there.

Taran moved with the creature, his sword slamming into the thing once, then a second time, cutting deep into it. Delorian was on it just the same, his nunchaku slamming into it again and again. 

Still the creature stared its hatred at YaDichi, the massive arrow wounds still burning. Its eyes flashed and thick black ray shot out, slamming the archer in the chest. She screamed as her whole form shook. Her skin seemed to flash, and begin to disappear. Her insides where momentarily visible and the powerful death magic gripped her. As she fell forward she clutched her bow in her hand, and thought of all the good she had left to do in this world. With a scream she stood up and shook off the effects of the deadly ray. Blood ran from her eyes, nose, and ears. Her breathing was ragged, but she was alive. 

Her bow snapped up, an arrow already in it. The creature floated over Taran and began floating toward her. One hand was stretching out toward the bow, as if it was going to wrench it from her grasp. “You want it?” She growled. “Take it.” She loosed the arrow. Before it even landed she was pulling the next arrow from her back, and backpedaling toward the wall behind her. The arrow ripped a hole the size of a buckler through the beasts huge hand. It then ripped a hole through its chest and flew on into the darkness. The next arrow blew another chunk out of the hand then blew through its head. The last arrow slashed through the center of its forehead. With a mournful sigh it collapsed forward and dissolved into darkness.

YaDichi fell to her knees and closed her eyes. She gripped her bow tight against her chest and concentrated on remaining alive. Varick jogged over and when he got there, he was surprised to see her starting to stand up. She was relatively unhurt for the punishment her body had just endured.

Will spoke out through the telepathic bond. “We better get what ever treasure it had and get out of here fast. That light show would not have been hard to miss. I have a feeling that in about five minutes this place will be crawling with giants and imps.”


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## Jeremy (Mar 31, 2004)

I love watching that team work as a unit.


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## Wraithdrit (Apr 5, 2004)

*Latest Update*

*Underdark
Ruins of Maerimydra
Uktar 8th, 1372, ‘Mid-Afternoon’*

The heroes quickly slipped out of the temple after secure the small amounts of treasure the undead abomination had been guarding. It hardly seemed worth the risk. They had hoped for an alternate entrance to the castle or something, anything that would aid them. None of the treasure was even that useful. On the upside though, they had something to bribe Hamadh and his band of rogues with.

They went down into the city, in search of more undead to slay. They made a calculated effort to stay away from the giant’s encampments, knowing that the more giants they killed the more souls would be sucked into the cult’s hands.

It did not take too long to find what they were after. But it was not quite what they had hoped for. Will looked up and saw that several figures were watching them from a rooftop, not even attempting to hide. It was obvious to Will that the figures were on the Ethereal Plane, watching them. One of the figures rode a massive horse with flaming hooves. As he glanced up at the figure he was horrified to see that he could see its skull through its face. It was a ghost! The pinprick of energy that served for the undead’s eyes seemed to focus on Will, burrowing into his soul. The mage shuddered, feeling the icey cold gaze flow through him, sapping his strength. 

He looked away, shuddering from the brush with such a cold gaze. His footsteps were heavier, and he half shuffled his way along. Varick glanced over at him. “You okay?”

Will nodded, “I will be… keep moving.” When they had advanced further, Will glanced back. The Ethereal band was moving towards where they had come from, and was not pursueing them. He spoke to the others, “A ghost, and some ethereal companions… I have a few spells that could hurt them, but the rest of you would be hard pressed. I thought it best to let them pass.”

The others quickly agreed, and the group head on in search of others. A few minutes later, Varick stopped and looked up. In the fog that swirled overhead he saw movement. Something large and winged, but humanoid flew overhead, swooping past. He quickly told the others. Since whatever it was had flown on, they decided to proceed further.

They dropped down into the slums of Maerimydra, and the smashed shantytown that covered that lower level. Delorian reappeared amidst the group. “Ghouls ahead.” This was more like it. Something they could lay their hands on.

The plan was quickly set and they executed it quickly and efficiently. Delorian appeared in front of one ghoul, making himself a target. Several more poured from the buildings around him.  Two even charged down the alley toward the others, but they were quickly sent flying into the air by a reverse gravity spell from Will. 

Delorian was unstoppable with his nunchaku. It was not that he was hitting harder than before, but instead he was keeping his opponents on the ground. Though he was surrounded, the ghouls hardly layed a hand on him. He spun this way and that, smashing kneecaps, breaking shins, and sweeping ghoul legs from the ground. These were not just regular ghouls either. They were the nasty abyssal ghouls that they had run into a bit earlier. All of them were abyssal ghouls, but it mattered little. The rest of the group swept forward around the area of reverse gravity. Arrows and spells peppered the ghouls trying to get at Delorian, and again and again as the ghouls tried to stand back up, Delorian would knock them back down.

It was reaching the point of near comedy. The ghouls at this point were clawing at the walls and boxes around them to try and stand up, and Delorian just spun this way and that, smashing their hands, and knocking them back down. Finally a few of the ghouls got the idea to get away from him, then stand up, only to come face to face with Varick and Taran, or to get shot by Will or YaDichi.

YaDichi finally decided to check out the ghouls that were floating and squealing up in the fog, caught in the reverse gravity Will had thrown up. She activated his item of flight and flew up into the air. She was shocked to only find one ghoul suspended in the reverse gravity well. She quickly dropped to below it and peppered it with arrows till it stopped twitching. She looked at the others. They had just finished off the last of the ghouls. “We have a problem… one of them is missing.”

Will frowned, “What? Its not possible to escape a gravity well unless…”

The telltale woosh of something flying low overhead had everyone pointing weapons straight up into the fog. The only response was the soft thunk of a ghoul head being dropped to their midst as whatever it was flew past overhead. The head bounced a few times, then rolled to a stop at Will’s feet. “Lovely…” muttered the mage. 

The fog swirled as whatever it was came lower. Finally it was visible, its huge bat like wings beating to slow its descent. A massive devil, the one Will had seen with Kurgoth through his scouting eyes that morning. It did not attack right away though. Instead it landed on the corner of one of the shanty buildings. The corner collapsed into a small pile of rubble, but the devil easily perched on the pile of rocks, its wings slowly folding into its sides. “Well, well, well… what have we here?”

Taran gripped his sword and narrowed his eyes. His hatred of the creature was almost as plain as that of Brother Varick. Varick had his morningstar ready and his shield up. His face was a sneer of contempt for the abomination.

Will held up his hands. The mage was within arms reach of the massive devil. “We have no fight with you. We are here to stop the cult.”

The devil chuckled, “Then it seems we have the same enemy, for now. I’ll let you live to see the morrow then.”

Delorian spoke from one side, “You serve the giants?”

The devil whipped its massive head around to glare at him, “I serve no one!” It seemed to get its composure after a moment. “I work with Kurgoth, not for him. His purpose suits me for now.”

Varick growled, “And that purpose is?”

The devil grinned, “To destroy the last of the drow of this city… the cult of Kiriansalee.”

Will quickly cut back into the conversation. “Then we have no quarrel with you… for now.”

The devil grinned and snapped his wings out. He looked Will up and down, then chuckled. “Indeed.” With one powerful snap of his wings he was airborne again. “We will meet again, I’m sure.”

As he rose into the fog, both Varick and Taran considered launching attacks. The heroes were not ready for such a fight though, and the two holy warriors decided to hold that fight for another day.

The group went back to scouring the city for undead, but eventually found themselves a spot to hole up and wait till the morning. With Will’s health restored from his encounter with the ghost, the party was ready to meet back up with Hamadh. They found the rogue leader waiting for them patiently, right where they had left him. 

It took a bit of bargaining, but once the goods they had gotten from the ruined temple were given over to Hamadh he was forthcoming with the means to enter Castle Maerimydra. The giant blockade was only around most of the castle, so they could sneak in, or teleport up close to the back of the castle, or one of its parapets. From there, they could gain access to the interior using a password that the drow caster of the forbiddance spell keeping people outside had set up to allow entry to members of the cult. The password was in a drow elven dialect, but was the nonsense phrase “Isztava morthaum”. The non elven-speaking members of the group spent time practicing the password so as not to get it wrong.

Hamadh assured them that this was a one shot deal. Once they had been discovered inside, the password would be changed with the next casting, so they had to get in and do what they needed to inside in one day, or rest within the castle. If they left the castle, the barrier spell would be recast.

The heroes thanked Hamadh for his assistance, then teleported to parapet of the castle. Stairs led up to a higher entrance. The level they were on was actually the same level as the main stairs entered. The back entrance entered a level beneath them. They decided to enter on the floor they were on, rather than leave so much unexplored beneath them.

Varick made quick easy work of the door with a stone shape spell. The group filed into a balcony over looking the bottom floor of the smaller of the two towers. The tower extended above them, but the entrance to that level was not here, the floor was closed off above. They found a pair of double doors that obviously led to the rest of the castle. They were about to open them when something stirred in the air behind them. From the dark corner of the room a silvery glowing ghostly form of a hezrou demon appeared. It floated 80 feet off the ground at the top of the chamber. With a howl it unleashed a wave of chaotic energy that ripped through the group. 

The fight was quick. YaDichi spun and put two arrows through the demon. Her third arrow seemed to pass harmlessly through the thing. Varick threw up the focus for his spiritual weapon, and it sprang to life flying forward to smash into the undead demon. It disappeared in an unearthly howl, destroyed.

The fighting had already begun, so the heroes figured it was time to cast their high offense preparatory spells. The two casters quickly cast spells of strength, defense, and telepathic communication. Taran had already summoned Gundra while they were outside the forbiddance. They discussed a few moments then finally decided they were ready and turned toward the double doors. Taran kicked them open, only to find that the drow cults forces were waiting on the other side. Hand crossbow bolts flew toward the party, spellcasting could be heard from behind massive fire giant zombies. The fight for Castle Maerimydra was on. Perhaps even, the fight for all of Faerun’s salvation from the cold grip of Kiriansalee…

*Underdark
Inside the Maerimydra Arena
Uktar 9th, 1372, ‘Morning’*

A fire giant strode past the guards, carrying a drow prisoner. The prisoner was one of Hamadh’s band, the hot headed younger drow whose face was covered in scars. Hamadh had called him Karas. His hands were bound and he was pretty badly beaten. He was practically unconscious, his head lulling from side to side.

The giant tossed him down at Kurgoth’s feet, then dropped down to a knee. “M’lord.” 

Kurgoth waved the giant up, “Why have you brought me this … thing?” Kurgoth’s contempt for the drow was obvious. The half-fiend obviously did not like the dark elves as a people, probably the root of his attack on the city.

“It claims to have means to get inside the castle.” The fire giant reached down and wrenched the elf’s head up. “Spit it out, elf! Or I’ll roast your eyes out and feed them to Lord Kurgoth’s pet!”

The elephant trumpeted loudly, stomping around beside its half-fiend master. Kurgoth chuckled and leaned in to hear what the drow had to say. 
“Password… to get into castle… past … spell defense…”

Kurgoth leaned closer. “Yes, yes, go on… what is it?”

The drow swallowed and licked his lips, “Promise to let me live.”

Kurgoth narrowed his eyes. He sniffed, and clamped his mouth shut. The other giants in the room just knew that their lord was going to smash the elf apart for his insolence. He surprised them all. “Done! Now… the password!”

The elf slumped and muttered, “Isztava morthaum.” Kurgoth flew to his feet. The giants thought he was going to kill the elf now that he had the information needed.

“Throw that peace of trash into the street, let the undead have him!” He turned to his commanders, “Mobilize the army! Prepare the horde! We have a castle to take!”

The fire giant that had captured the elf, scooped up the betrayer and tossed him over a shoulder and walked toward the door. He found his way blocked by Kurgoth’s massive winged devil.

The devil looked the giant up and down, narrowing his eyes a bit. The giant bowed its head, and then looked back into the devil’s gaze, matching its stare. The devil grinned and then broke out into a laugh and turned to join the others in preparing for the castle assault, shaking its head in disbelief.

The giant strode out into the city. Eventually he set Karas down. Karas was quickly out of his ropes and casting a small cure spell to get rid of the superficial self inflicted wounds. The giant shuddered and shrunk till he was in the form of the older drow that was Karas’ companion in Hamadh’s little band, the one known as Chiirikk. Chiirikk spoke first, “The devil knows.”

“Impossible. He would have slain us.”

Chiirikk shook his head, “He knows, but he doesn’t care. I think he only cares about the cult, and now wiping out the city like Kurgoth.”

Karas considered a moment then shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Between the surface dwellers, the giants, and the cult, the castle will be lucky to be standing in the morning.”

Hamadh stepped out of the shadows, “Indeed, and when the dust settles, we will snatch control of the city.” The three shared a laugh, then went to find a spot they could watch the castle from safely. They wanted to be there when the giants broke down the front door.

*Underdark
Ruins of Maerimydra, a block from Castle Maerimydra
Uktar 9th, 1372, ‘Morning’*

Tursa glanced at her companion. She smiled and glanced over at Telinal. “Your aid in getting here is much appreciated.”

The dark elf shrugged, and looked back from his perch. “I still don’t understand why you want to be so close when this all goes down. If they fail… well, I’d rather be on the far side of Toril if that happens.”

Tursa shrugged, “Everything is going as planned.”

Telinal frowned, “Planned? You make it sound like the Oracle is guiding all this, not seeing it from visions.”

Tursa chuckled, “Oh Telinal, you know what I meant.” Her laughter was musical to the dark elf, and he quickly forgot his concern for whatever it was she had just said. The fey’ri woman slipped closer to him, wrapping her arms around gently around him, sliding her hands across the fabric of his shirt. “Isn’t this exciting?” she purred.

Telinal sighed and leaned back into her. It was exciting alright, but it had nothing to do with the coming battle that the Oracle had forseen. He closed his eyes and swallowed gently, if only she were a drow and not a fey’ri he would…

His thoughts were cut short when he felt her grip his hair. He had never felt her pull his own dagger from his belt, but when the blade stabbed into his neck the shock and pain jolted him from surprise into fear. It was too late though. With a single beat of her wings Tursa pulled back, ripping the dagger completely through his throat. Her free hand shoved him forward. He fell to the rubble, grabbing at his severed throat. Blood gushed through his hands.

He rolled over and stared at her in shock, and surprise. His lips moved but the wound prevented him from speaking. One hand went down to fumble with his sword, but his eyes closed before the blade was even out. He fell forward, and a pool of blood soaked the stones around him.

Tursa walked forward and stabbed the dagger into his back, through his spine and into his heart. “Sorry Telinal, but things are getting so close to the end. I’ve got to start wrapping up my loose ends. You know how it is…” She turned and crouched beside the body, watching the castle, unconcerned that his blood pooled around her feet, staining her clothes and her drooped wings. By the time the events that were unfolding would be over, there would be a lot more blood spilled.


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## Eccles (Apr 5, 2004)

Excellent. Are you trying to cause trouble for the heroes, or make it easier for them by having the giants invade?

We're due to recommence my CotSQ campaign this weekend, and my group's delighted to be returning to their high-power characters, but terrified to be returning to the Underdark...

(Especially when they find out what I've done to the place in their absence!)


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## Wraithdrit (Apr 5, 2004)

Eccles,

In short, yes (to both options). Plus I've changed up a lot of the background plot of the module to fit my own story, so many of the major NPCs are instrumental in the machinations I have concocted.

I like to think of it as a movie headed toward the final act. You gotta get all the principles involved (if its a good movie ). 

Tursa's line in the end is actually MY line spoken by her, to explain from my point of view what is going on... "[We are] getting so close to the end. I’ve got to start wrapping up my loose ends."

Thanks for the kudos, always helps to know someone is actually enjoying reading this. 
- Wraith


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## Jeremy (Apr 5, 2004)

What the bad guys are up to, how you handle them, and enrich the module with your own ideas and story is the number one reason I read this story hour.  Makes it live and breath.  And also gives me tons of ideas to work into my game early so they show up later.  

Now if only I could be as excited about writing my Story Hour as I am about reading yours and running the game.


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## Wraithdrit (Apr 5, 2004)

Jeremy,

Thanks.

The hardest part about all this has been holding my cards close to my chest and not giving away too much too soon. 

I do not fully develop my plots in the beginning, but leave a good portion open so that as the game develops I can wrap things in on themselves and utilize old NPCs for new aspects, etc. For example, Tursa was never designed as a recurring NPC. But she survived the first encounter, and ended up fitting into the plot very nicely as it developed. So she is now fairly central and its fun to get to point back at the second fight of the game and point out how she was there.

Lots to see still... 

Tonights game should be a blood-bath. They REALLY stirred up the hornet's nest last time, and tonight's session will be very bloody. Hopefully it will all be NPC blood, not PC blood!

- Wraith


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## Phaedan (Apr 5, 2004)

This is the player of Taran/Marcus/Tanerus  chiming in for the first time.  I've had trouble getting the board to let me post until now for some reason.

Anyway, from a players perspective this game has been great.  There's been a lot of places where death comes quick, and we've managed to avoid most of the pitfalls so far.

This next fight is looking quite interesting, although I agree with Will's character that the actual forces we are immediately facing shouldn't prove too much of a problem (should being the appropriate word)  However, with the approach of the Giants (new info) this should prove quite interesting.

This'll be the first time that we're really going to have to stretch the abilities of the characters to the limits.  Now that we're inside the castle, I don't anticipate much rest.  I'd hoped we'd be at least 15th level on average before this, but c'est la vie.

Also, I'd like to interject that after the 'we have no quarrel' bit with the devil, he offered a dialogue with Kurgoth to which both Varick and Taran said 'Bite me' (in an appropriate lawful good way).  Wraithdrit is keeping the story moving, but I wanted everyone to know that the paladin and lawful good cleric did not entertain joining forces with a devil.

Well, about 1h 30m left until game time.  So wish us luck.


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## Wraithdrit (Apr 6, 2004)

Blood did flow last night. And not all of it was from NPCs!

Update will be later this week, as school has me firmly in its grips for now.

- Wraith


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## Wraithdrit (Apr 23, 2008)

*tap, tap* Is this thing on?

*sheepish* Um, first off, apologies for reviving a REALLY old dead thread. If there is anyone out there who remembers this campaign's story hour from the original writing, I wanted to let you know two things, and make an offer.

1. The campaign did wrap up. But life and school, etc got really busy for me, and thus the end to the story hour. My apologies.
2. I will be starting a new story hour for my 4th edition game set in my own world creation soon. The game will start weekend after next (using preview rules, with a planned retuning after the June 7th release of 4e). The story hour itself will probably start sooner than that, with prologue information, etc.

Now the offer to anyone who actually read this story hour back in the day:
If you would like I will wrap up this story hour with one final post. In case you want to know what happened to the party and all. If there is no interest, thats cool too. I could just use that writing time on the new story hour instead. 

- Wraith


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