# The Unusual Heroes vs. The Pool of Radiance



## Xaltar (Jan 18, 2002)

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The Campaign:
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This adventure is a Forgotten Realms campaign takes place in the Dalelands.  The party is all currently in Ashabenford.

The party started off at 3rd level an is working their way up a few levels before beginning the Pool of Radiance module.

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Character Creation:
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Each player was allowed to roll two columns of stats, each with seven scores, and they dropped the lowest.

Since the campaign setting is very epic, I wanted people to have decent ability scores, and was hoping that they would make lasting characters.

In addition, I had each player roll a d20 for the following:

F - Family
C - Contacts
M - Magic Items
W - Wealth

I started the party off at level 3, enabling them to play higher CR races, or to have a slightly more in-depth character history.

I then used their Magic Items and Wealth scores to adjust the starting wealth of third level characters to add to the roleplaying flavor and to offer some diversity.  To my delight, the character of Hunter VonLeer rolled a 1 for magical items.  Therefore he begins with a cursed item.        

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The Party:
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Here is a quick synopsis of the party, and will be filled in with more detail at a later point:

Ziona - Half-Drow Cleric
Drexel - Tiefling Wizard
Hunter VonLeer - Human Fighter
Spiderfang (Tansooth) - Human Monk
Holden - Human Ranger/Rogue
Borghin - Dwarven Rogue/Warrior
Roughner - NPC Human Barbarian


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## Xaltar (Jan 18, 2002)

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Session 1 - Part 1: The Adventure Begins...
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Just your typical day in Ashabenford, one of the larger settlements located within Mistledale:

It all began around mid-afternoon in The Velvet Veil when a young ranger of the Dales walked in and asked the bartender of local happenings. The bartender motioned to a small and awkward looking man who was trying feverishly to adhere a "Wanted" poster to the wall near the entrance. This comment caused the majority of the patrons to look over at the struggling man. Embarrassed by his incompetence, he turned and barked at the crowd that they could all read the sign when he was finished.

As Holden the ranger leaned back against the bar to continue his conversation with the barkeep, he noticed a very strange man sitting beside him. The man was beyond weathered.  His skin was tanned and rough like leather. He wore several furs that were layered over heavy chainmail. Beside him stood a greatclub that balanced on it's own massive weight. Nothing about this man struck Holden as odd until the man drew forth a glass of fine wine and sipped from it with the daintiness of an elf. Seeing the surprised look on the young ranger's face, the barkeep smiled and backed away while nodding his head. He apparently foresaw a conversation that he had been privy to far too many times.

Almost instantly a conversation brewed between the two men, and if they had taken the time to glance around the room, they would have noticed that half of the patrons had their ears cocked in their direction trying to eavesdrop onto the conversation as best they could. In a gruff and almost guttural voice the barbarian, who introduced himself as Roughner, conveyed his disgust for the fact that he was sitting in town drinking, (of all things), a glass of wine. He went on without provocation into a rant about how he has lost his rage, and in the process become almost dainty. He attempted to slam his glass against the bar, but faltered at the last moment setting it gently down next to what appeared to be a blackened skull. Holden, who had been trying to repress a smirk, suddenly changed his expression as he viewed the hideous skull.

Roughner, noticing Holden's stare, went on to describe how he had managed to demolish a troll and held him down into a pit of fire. He described how when the flesh of the troll had melted away, he pulled the skull forth from the ashes and carved out the center to fashion a helm. After his story, he placed the helm upon his head and slapped it a few times to confirm that it was in place. Those with fine hearing could hear several sounds of disgust from the other patrons.

Holden, convinced that a man who wore a hollowed troll skull should not be drinking a glass of wine with his pinky outstretched, recommended that Roughner seek a powerful cleric to rid him of this apparent curse. Roughner frowned and pointed to the empty glass and stated that he just drank the last of his wealth, and he most likely wasn't going to have such magic performed cheaply (not that the thought of being the target of such magic comforted the barbarian). 

Just then a local man looked up from his drink across the bar. With etched features and a jaw wider then the hilt of his sword, the young fighter heaved up a pouch of coins on the bar, and slid 10 gold towards the barbarian. "Consider this a gift from the VonLeers."

Holden recognized the man as a VonLeer even before the man stated his family's name. They all possessed those similar features, and the family could be found all over the Dales. What had really shocked Holden was the fact that the VonLeers were commonly known to be, "Almost as snooty as they are stingy." Perhaps this one is different he thought. After the VonLeer joined in on the conversation, they learned that his name was Hunter VonLeer.

Meanwhile in the bar, a very average looking human male approached a very unusual looking young woman who was center at one of the taverns center tables scribing into her journal. This woman's history was well known to almost anyone who passed through this town since she was often the topic of much gossip and wives tales. The result of her heritage was that of a half-drow, who was accepted in town, but not without the price of much ridicule and harassment. The man known as Drexel had his own reasoning for initiating this conversation, but Ziona had no objections to having someone to talk to. Without a friend to her name, she welcomed the interaction. Unbeknownst to both of them, another dark and secretive man lurking at a nearby table was also listening to their conversation to the best of his ability. Although this became a difficult task as a very loud and boisterous dwarf broke into song as he continued to add to empty mugs that lined his table.

At this point the feeble man had finished adhering the "Wanted" poster to the wall of the tavern and announced as if he had just crafted some magnificent piece of art, that the document was now available for viewing. Suddenly there was an overwhelming sound of numerous chairs sliding out from tables as the abundance of adventurers currently in the bar became apparent. Due to the awkwardness of the situation, a few people sat back down, while others moved swiftly towards the posting.

Of the first there were Drexel and Ziona. They quickly read that this sign was offering a bounty to the capture of those responsible for raids being conducted in the area of Galath's Roost. A small garrison had been sent to the investigate Galath's Roost, the area believed to be the raiders' base of operations, and had not returned. The bounty offered was 100 gold for each raider captured alive, and 25 gold for proof of any raider killed. 

Upon reading the poster, Drexel turned to notice that the exceptionally quiet man who was sitting near them was now peering over his shoulder reading the text as well. Drexel managed to get a good glance at this man; who was wearing a jet-black suit under his travelers’ cloak: But Drexel didn't really think much of it at the time. By the time Drexel turned back towards Ziona, the man was gone.

Intrigued as well, Holden broke off from the conversation with Roughner and Hunter to investigate the sign himself. After quickly skimming the contents of the sign, the cunning ranger returned to the bar and said, "Roughner, I think we just found how to get you that money!" 

The word "money" interested Hunter instantly, not surprising any onlooker...he was a VonLeer after all. This magical word also drew forth Drexel who was accompanied by Ziona. Within seconds a the details of an adventuring party were being discussed, with Drexel stating several times, "We split everything equally, five ways."

Just as they were agreeing that they would form their group, Drexel asked Ziona to pull down the posting. The eavesdropping, (and feigning drunk) dwarf took this as his queue and smoothly sprung from his seat, walked up to the sign and pulled it down. As Ziona began walking towards the sign, her eyes widened in disbelief as the dwarf placed the poster under his arm. Appalled, Drexel began trading some harsh words with the dwarf. The party quickly calmed as it was recommended that the dwarf just join the group rather then fighting about who should claim the poster.

All in agreement, Roughner the barbarian, Drexel the wizard, Hunter VonLeer the fighter, Holden the ranger, Ziona the half-drow cleric, and Borghain the dwarven rogue gathered their belongings left, heading straight out of town without making a single stop.

Only moments after stepping out of the tavern, the group was followed. The silent man from the bar slipped out back and placed his standard clothes in his pack, revealing a jet-black outfit of outstanding make. Quickly he "ran" up the side of the tavern to the roof to watch these adventurers from a distance.

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Still more to come...
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## Xaltar (Jan 18, 2002)

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Session 1, Part 2: He who walks in Shadows...
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The party quickly left Ashabenford and began walking the road that would lead them to Galath's Roost. 

Shortly after entering a forested area, Holden's keen eyesight identified that the group had a tail. Drexel took a quick look back and told the party the man in the bar was following them. The party acted as though they hadn't noticed anyone and continued on.

Lurking in the shadows, approximately 40 feet behind the group, a man did his best to travel unseen and unheard. He noticed that one of them was attempting to scout ahead. Not a big surprise he thought, humans in heavy armor and dwarves make for slow travel. Proceeding stealthily through the woods was not difficult when the ones he stalked moved like snails to him.

After some time, he noticed that the scout had not returned, and that the party started glancing behind them on a regular basis. Far too many glances in fact he had been spotted! Not wanting to appear suspicious, he walked onto the road and quickly approached the party. Silently, Holden emerged from the woods as well, nearly twenty feet behind the disguised man. 

Suddenly finding that he himself was the one being followed, he quickly attempted to explain why he had been shadowing the group, "It is my job to avenge the injustice conveyed upon the garrison assigned to investigate Galath's Roost. It appears that we are traveling in the same direction."

Not particularly thrilled that they were being followed, yet taken aback by what appeared to be a non-threatening encounter, the party warily invited this unknown man to join them on their journey. They’re primary concern with adding yet another member was squelched when Drexel brought up his speech about equal shares. The cowled man interrupted, "I have no cares for the bounty, only justice."

With half of the party keeping their eye on the dwarf and the other on the potentially deceptive addition to the party, they continued their march into the early evening.

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Still more to come...
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## Xaltar (Jan 18, 2002)

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Session 1 - Part 3: The Party’s First Test...
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That night the party carefully chose four watches, each with two party members.  After an uneventful first watch, Drexel awoke and joined the existing watch even though it wasn't his turn.  He merely stated that he couldn't sleep and no one felt the need to argue with him.

The night was dark and silent, broken only by the faint cracking of the near dwindling fire.  Suddenly a large unbridled sound could be heard in the distance, yet its cause was blocked by the endless row of trees surrounding the windy road.  The rest of the party quickly woke to the sound of an incoming army smashing through the forest, only to see that this army was an army of one.  A large humanoid with crossed eyes and personal hygiene that would offend most orcs was barreling through young saplings and small trees.

The ogre gave the party half-a-second to prepare as he announced, "OKK SAY YOU GIMME YOU MONEY OR OKK GONNA EAT YOU!"

While Borghin and the masked, self-proclaimed warrior of justice took to the woods, Drexel decided that he would deal with this threat quickly and began casting an arcane spell.  Drexel cursed the Ogre back into the woods, and in mere moments Okk turned to flee.  The party, most of who had previously traveled alone, and never with a spellcaster such as Drexel were downright baffled.

As Okk began running at top speed he screamed, "YOU PEOPLE NO EAT OKK, HE NO TASTY.... WE CAN MAKE DEAL!"

Hunter stood proud waiting for the Ogre to eventually come back; he just kept thinking that the spell would break any time now.  A watchful eye may have even noticed the fighter tapping his foot.

Roughner began hitting himself in the head, trying to build up the rage that has lead him forth into battle so many times before...but the rage wasn't coming.

Drexel, Holden, and Ziona moved forward drawing bows and crossbows.  They began taking shots at the ogre and even scored a few hits.

Borghin was hidden off the side of the road near the adventurers’ gear, knowing that he was just too slow to attempt running after the dimwitted giant.

Unlike the others who stood their ground, or moved cautiously forward, the masked man who went by the alias Spiderfang, charged forward with great intensity.  Seconds later he had caught up to the fleeing monster and began pummeling it in the back with his bare fists.  The two sprinted forward into the deepest parts of the forest, traveling hundreds of feet from the campsite.

Drexel nervously informed Holden that the spell's effect should wear off at any moment, and was surprised that it had actually lasted as long as it did.
The entire party grimaced as they witnessed an amazing site off in the distance.  

Without a moments notice, the Ogre firmly planted one foot in the ground, breaking his run.  Okk had suddenly found new courage and used his tree trunk like leg to pivot his whole body around to face Spiderfang.  

Seconds after Spiderfang saw the ogre's head turn, he felt the force of Okk's greatclub broadside his face.  With an amazing act of brute strength, Okk continued his blow across Spiderfang's face, and readied his weapon for another swing.

From a distance,the party witnessed Spiderfang's face burst into a fountain of blood, yet he managed to remain standing.  Drexel and Holden quickly devised a plan, knowing that if they didn't do something immediately, they might lose a party member without ever learning his name.

Spiderfang looked up at the ogre through determined eyes misted with sweat and blood.  He could barely see, but he couldn't miss the gigantic humanoid that stood before him.  As if he had been in the desperate conversation with Drexel and Holden, he knew that he had few chances left to save himself.  As he narrowly dodged the next swing from the mighty ogre, he stood up straight with new determination.  With a flick of his wrists, just as he had practiced on so many lonely nights, his gloves hurtled to the ground, revealing flames that burned as bright as torches surrounding his fists.

From the parties viewpoint it was hard to determine what had just happened.  The area around Spiderfang and the ogre lit up, to reveal that both were still standing.  Drexel began the execution of his plan and cast a spell on one of Holden's arrows.  Holden then drew the arrow and shot it into the vicinity of the battle.  Although Holden's arrow fell short, the darkness that suddenly surround it's vicinity should still disrupt the fight.

Spiderfang never noticed the darkness surrounding his back since his fists burned bright with magic more powerful then Drexel's spell.  He forced his fists toward the ogre in a synchronized double attack.  

Yet as Spiderfang's fist flew forward, the force of Okk's greatclub through him into the air like a rag doll.  As his body crumpled under the force of the magnificent club, he let out a blood-curdling cry, the kind reserved for a dying man.  Spiderfang, although still alive when he fell limply to the ground, was only moments from taking his last breadth, and no one in the party had a means of reaching him in time.

The party all looked shocked when they heard the scream, and their hopes that the ogre would disengage when surround by darkness was instantly ruined.  Quickly they all sprinted around the darkness in an attempt to find both the ogre and their fallen comrade.  Okk once again began insisting, "I'M GONNA EAT YOU HUMANS!"

On the backside of the darkness, the party found Spiderfang badly bloodied and barely breathing.  Ziona hastily checked his vital signs and informed the party that he has a lot of internal bleeding, but the majority of blood loss has already stabilized.  

Holden looked down at the young girl and noticed that there was hope in her stark lavender eyes.  Ziona pulled forth a symbol from under her cloak, of a nude gray skinned elf dancing with a bastard sword.  She closed her eyes and with one hand over her holy symbol, and another on the temple of their wounded friend, she called forth divine energies to bring him back to consciousness.  Eilistaee, the goddess of good drow and of those that wish to live on the surface in peace, granted her the power to heal her friend.

Okk got lost after attempting to run through the darkness.  He had been turned around and couldn't find people to eat anywhere.  Sick of playing games with humans, Okk decided that this was a lost cause.  Just as he was readying to leave, he noticed that the heroes had emerged from the far side of the darkness.  Frustrated and hungry the ogre charged the party as Ziona was still healing Spiderfang.

As Okk charged, Hunter VonLeer stepped up to intercept him.  As Okk and Hunter exchanged glancing blows, the party continued to pelt the ogre with bolts and arrows.  Only a few moments later, Holden, the young ranger moved to join Hunter on the front line.  To the amazement of the party, Holden tumbled behind the gigantic humanoid, drew his great sword as he came out of the roll, and ended his dexterous display by plunging it the square of the ogres back.  Okk felt a big pinch into his back, only to notice a thick blade pierce through his chest as Holden sank the sword to the hilt.  The ogre crumpled to the ground and Holden proceeded to nonchalantly retrieve the sword from Okk's carcass.

Holden was a man in his early twenties.  He wore a weather-beaten outfit and a dusty cloak that marked him as a nomad to any passerby.  Harnessing both the skills of a ranger and of a rogue made him a formidable foe indeed, yet the true threat came from his sharp wit.  As Holden dusted himself off and regrouped with the party, he pointed to their dark and mysterious friend.  He said, "I thought I recognized you, there is no mistaking those hands."

As the rest of the party marveled over the flaming fists, Holden continued with his speech, "You are Spiderfang, a vigilante of the Dales, upholding your own form of justice and have even defeated some powerful monsters."

Holden, not sure is this man was a pretender, or if the rumors were highly exaggerated, he pressed for more information to satisfy his curiosity.

The ogre had managed to knock the cowl off of Spiderfang's face.  He was caked with his own blood and the healing hadn't removed all of the swelling, and although his face had been mended, his pride was still broken.  He took a moment to gather his thoughts and his pride and responded, "Yes, I am THE Spiderfang, the last member of a monkish fighting order of Spiderfangs."

It was apparent to the party that this particular Spiderfang was a fledgling in comparison to those referred to in local legends.  However, this made them feel more comfortable knowing that he wasn't going to overshadow the rest of the party.

The group continued watches throughout the remainder of the night, yet no other threat approached.  In the morning they gathered their belongings and headed towards Galath's Roost.  As they passed by the fallen ogre, Spiderfang reached in a special pouch and dropped a coin on Okk's bloodied torso.  The coin was a mark of the Spiderfang order, displaying a spider on one side, and the scales of justice on the reverse.

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Still more to come...
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## Xaltar (Jan 18, 2002)

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Session 1 - Part 4: Digging in the Dirt...
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The party continued to travel without event, arriving in the vicinity of the dwarven town Glen during late afternoon.  The group halted for a moment to discuss their plans for the night. 

Roughner felt that he could handle another sweet glass of wine, but wasn’t likely to find any in Glen, and therefore refused to enter town.  Borghin was reluctant to enter as well; his lack of the typical industrious dwarven attitude had made him an unpopular visitor in the past.  He had no intention of becoming the stereotypical dwarven miner or stonemason, and had a tendency to become very stubborn when it was thrown in his face.  He was determined that he would not become a ‘nobody’ like his father, and Glen reminded him far too much of his home.

With those opinions stated, none felt the need to argue, so they setup camp off the side of the road.  As they had expected, none dared to accost them throughout the night while in such proximity to town.

The following morning, the group hastily covered the remaining distance of their journey and arrived at Galath’s Roost.  As the dilapidated structure came into view, they noticed that the cracked and vine covered stone building was surrounded by what was once a moat, but is now nothing more then a bramble filled ravine.  

Holden, taking charge and full advantage of his wilderness talents, lead the party forward to the Roost.  As they approached the crumbling keep, it was evident that the moat could be easily crossed since a portion had been filled with dirt.  This makeshift bridge led to what appeared to have once been the front gate.

As the party began to draw their weapons and investigate, they turned to notice that Holden was already moving away from the entrance.  Reluctantly, they followed the skilled ranger as he continued to investigate the perimeter of the ravine before charging inside.

In the distance to the south, Holden noted that scavenger birds were circling over a small hill near the border of the surrounding forest.  He informed the rest of the party and they agreed that they would check it out later.

Upon reaching the front of the keep on the far side, Holden’s sharp eye noticed some tracks on the ground.  Looking closer, he found that there were some faint booted tracks that had been nearly covered by a large number of animal tracks.  These tracks appeared to be somewhat canine, and while Holden told the group that it was most likely wolves, he actually feared it to be worgs.

The party soon found the reason for all of the traffic in this area.  Nearing the woods on the west side of the keep were three graves.  They should have been unmarked, but were clearly evident due to the fact that portions of the bodies were unearthed and the flesh had been ravaged from the bone.

Holden rolled up his sleeves and dug into the soft dirt, pulling forth the uneaten portions of the corpses.  It was apparent that each body was of a human male in their mid-twenties, and not a single one bore the remnants of any clothing.  Slightly disturbed, and preparing for the worst, the party drew their weapons.  Holden wiped the dirt from his hands a began tracking the paw prints back to a lair that had been dug under a large hedge that had gone unkempt near the edge of the barren moat. 

As he approached, four aggressive canine creatures sprang forth.  With their gnarled teeth and gray and tan spotted fur, these animals looked like a cross between a wolf and a leopard.  When it was evident that these humans were not going to withdraw from their den, all four of the beasts did something that can only be described as ‘unnatural’.  The party stared in awe as these dog-like monsters pulled back the flesh from their faces leaving the frightening sight of their skinless heads.  

So fearful inspiring was the sight that Borghin and Spiderfang reconsidered their need to be involved in this battle.  Although finding the sight disturbing, but not completely horrific, the party quickly dispersed of the threat before they could do any serious harm.

Once Borghin and Spiderfang returned to the party they insisted that the whole incident be forgotten.  With this said, everyone was ready to keep the search moving to conserve as much daylight as possible.  

The group now more suspicious of the circling vultures decided to investigate before venturing into the keep.  On the way to the distant hill, Borghin’s keen sight spotted what appeared to be a sinkhole.  Upon closer inspection of the dark hole, it was thought that this could drop into a dungeon or lower level of the keep.  Hunter sneered at the hole in disgust, wanting nothing more then to avoid it altogether.

Hunter not particularly interested in spelunking into dark and ominous caverns, offers to hold the rope for anyone else brave enough to jump down.  Borghin’s curiosity had been sparked, he readily volunteered and lowered himself down.  As he reached the bottom, he noticed that the area was empty.  He called up to the group, “It’s all clear down…HELP!!!”

Slightly stunned by the sudden change in Borghin’s tone, he began heaving. Borghin was all sorts of spooked as he described a large vine that attempted to latch around him, and how he narrowly made it out alive.  Drexel, noticing the parties general concern about handling the situation, recommended that they finish their current task before they take any action.  

Holden needed no provocation and returned to leading the group towards the site of expected carrion.  Reaching the hill that they had seen from a distance, Holden began searching for tracks, although it was now obvious that the vultures were actually circling a little ways off where the base of the hill slowly sloped into the edge of the forest.

In the process of Holden trying to identify the tracks that he was able to find, he informed the party that this appeared to be some sort of campsite.  They needed no further provocation, and began searching as well.  After uncovering a few concealing garbage pits, the group gathered around to examine the obscure findings.

As Ziona took her turn picking through the piles of trash, she quickly identified the food as Underdark rations.  Her father once a skilled drow warrior had taught her much about her inherited culture, and although had never seen the likes of such food, recognized it immediately.

Holden looking perplexed, eyes Ziona and says, “Well drow don’t ride horses.”

Suddenly very curious, Holden followed the horse tracks across the top of the hill, and then stops in amazement as all evidence of passage ends abruptly.  Shaking his head not knowing what to make of it, he rejoins the others as they move down the hill to find several more disrupted gravesites.

Once again with a sigh, Holden rolls up his sleeves and digs into the dirt.  This time however, the party finds three partially eaten drow that have been stripped of all belongings.  As the other members of the party turn and begin to leave, Ziona kneeled before the disfigured bodies, and said a prayer over their loss.

Convinced that they had completely searched the surrounding area, the group returned to the sinkhole containing the foul tempered foliage.  Borghin began tying the rope around his stocky midsection once again.  Amidst his endless complaining about the danger to his personal well being, Spiderfang took action.

Using the slippers of the Spiderfang, given to him when by the previous incarnation of the vigilante alias, he began walking down the wall inside the pit.  A miraculous site to the others, Spiderfang stood straight off the side the wall, while facing the ground.  He began slowly waving his enchanted fists around, using their magical fire to light the corners of the room.  Several uncomfortable moments passed as everyone waited for the anticipated attack.  

Finally the wait was over, the deadly vine lurking below lashed out and attempted to rip the intruder from his perch on the rocky wall.  Yet, Spiderfang’s magical slippers would not release him from the wall, and the vine began to pull harder.

In the open air above the sinkhole, hiding behind an averagely mundane appearance was a powerful and resourceful wizard.  Drexel the son of half-fiend wasn’t about to be waylaid by a plant.  He reached into his pack and pulled forth a vile of acid, poring it across the vine.  Although the acid wasn’t strong enough to break its hold on Spiderfang, it certainly was effective.

Borghin and Roughner jumped down into the pit while Ziona summoned a Celestial Badger to gnaw through the feisty weed.
Holden brought the battle to a flashy ending when he; dove into the sinkhole, severing the vine with his greatsword, and broke into a roll as he landed unharmed.

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Isn't Galtah's Roost supposed to be haunted? Tune in again next week and find out...
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## Xaltar (Jan 18, 2002)

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Session 2, Part 1: Spies emerge from the darkness...
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After pruning the antagonistic plant, the party briefly peered around the cave before retreating to the surface.  Hunter still standing steadfast above lowered a rope to help the others, while Spiderfang walked back up the wall.

Back on the surface, the group took a short break to discuss the mystery that was unraveling before them.  Drow, mounted raiders, and unmarked graves that were all somehow related.  As they rested, the group continued to discuss their next course of action.

As the party finished their short rest, they noticed how quickly the darkness had covered the vicinity of Galath’s Roost.  This time of year the sun set early, and the temperature dropped quickly.  Although it was cold and dark, the party decided that they would adventure for a few more hours and possibly find a better site to shelter them from the harsh wind.

As they gathered their gear, Borghin pointed out movement in some nearby trees.  As the party began to focus, they spotted the threat before they were able to draw their weapons.  Two elves were coming out of hiding and approaching the party, and as they drew closer to the party, suddenly it was apparent that these were drow!

Ziona taking a step forward, proud of her heritage and believing that surface dwelling drow could live in peace with the other races that inhabit the Dalelands, hailed the dark elves.  The drow, reluctantly returning her hail, kept their weapons sheathed.  The party greatly outnumbered these onlookers, yet none seemed eager to test the might of the other.

After a long and uncomfortable moment of silence, one of the drow began to address the party.  In common he spoke, “My name is Shidul, and I’m here to inform you that the raiders that you seek are not of our kin, they are humans.”

Holden, wary of their help called back to them, “What business is it of yours then?”

Shidul, quick to rebuke, “These same raiders wiped out our camp located nearby, and we have tracked them to this vicinity.”

The party informed the dark duo of the unmarked drow graves to the south, and the two groups ended their encounter as the drow withdrew in an unspoken truce.  Not sure of the true intent of the drow, or their reasoning for providing information, the party decided to keep moving.

Hunter still refusing to jump down into what looked like a naturally formed sewer, firmly grabbed his rope, and said; “I’ll lower you down and will keep watch up here.”

Once again the remainder of the party began exploring the cave.  They decided to follow a swift flowing stream to the west.  Holden commented that the stream would be flowing downhill.  Unsure of the significance to the adventure, the party took it for a valid excuse to continue forward.

As they moved downstream, the party came to a musty area containing several compost piles covered with an abundance of mushrooms and other fungi.  As they looked around, they noticed with disgust that several gigantic ants were maintaining these piles.  A third pile formed of rocks and sand was formed against the south wall, reaching nearly to the ceiling, and contained several large holes.

One of the ants, larger then the others was the first to react to the party.  Its mandibles began clicking with an unsettling sound, and the group knew that they had wandered into unwelcome territory.

Spiderfang, the first to react rushed forward and attempted to vault across the stream and charge one of the worker ants.  Borghin noticing that the monk had miscalculated his jump, rushed to pull the flailing Spiderfang from the rushing water.

Roughner, who had been traveling on the far side of the stream to begin with, rushed the solider ant and took a heavy-handed swing.  Yellow puss and guts exploded across the room as the greatclub impacted against the ant’s carapace.  The goop sprayed out and managed to cover a good portion of Ziona’s traveling cloak.

While Borghin and Spiderfang defended against a rushing worker ant, Drexel and Ziona pelted the ants with crossbow fire.  Meanwhile, Holden had run up to aid Roughner, and the two successfully slaughtered the last remaining ant.

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Still more to come...
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## Xaltar (Jan 18, 2002)

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Session 2, Part 2: On the verge of collapse...
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As the party cleaned themselves off from the barrage of ant guts, Holden informed the group that an ant colony must have a queen nearby. Keeping this in mind and ready for more action, the party proceeded to climb into the anthill on their hands and knees. Roughner was more then obliging when it was recommended that he remain at the entrance to keep any ants from entering.

Holden boldly led the party into the cramped passageways. Things were going smoothly, until a portion of the ground began collapsing under his weight, dropping Holden into another passage. As he lay there stunned, dirt and sand quickly poured down on him like rain.

With the sound of Holden’s muffled cry, the party taken aback comes to a halt. The sudden stop only makes matters worse as the dirt beneath Drexel’s legs gives way, dropping him partially into a lower level. The party begins to panic as they realize how unsafe this bug made passage really is. 

As Holden begins to pull himself free he notices that he bumped something solid with his boot. Before he can inform the others, Drexel calls out in excruciating pain as a pair giant-size mandibles tear deeply into his calf. Drexel now spitting blood begins yelling for help while his deep wound fills with the swiftly sinking sand.

Back in the front of the line, Holden finds himself able to draw the ant up and into the passageway after him. As the ant moves forward, it finds itself flanked by Holden’s sharp sword, and a swift back kick from Spiderfang.

With one threat taken care of, Ziona does her part by wrenching free the now unconscious Drexel. As she pulled him back into their tunnel, she managed to catch her hand on something unseen but sharp on his forehead. Yet there was no time to inspect Drexel’s disguised anatomy. With little easy the angered ant came up and into the tunnel with the party. Already covered in Drexel’s blood it rushed forward to finish off the intruder. 

Borghin quickly pivoted in the narrow tunnel and plunged his sword into the back section of the giant bug. The ant’s head jerked violently back towards Borghin as his guts gushed out of its hind section. The body of the ant shuddered slightly before the legs went limp and left it slightly twitching in a puddle of its own entrails.

Finally given a moment of safety, Ziona called upon her divine healing powers to restore Drexel to a conscious state. Grossed out, spooked, and feeling slightly claustrophobic, the entire party instantly retreated from the anthill.

As they immerged from the dirt pile, each shaking themselves off as if they were covered in spiders, Roughner couldn’t help but smirk.

-------------------------------------------
Still more to come...
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## Xaltar (Jan 18, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 2, Part 3: A foul smelling apparition...
-------------------------------------------
Once out of the sand-filled deathtrap, the party regrouped and began to regain their composure. The all watched as Borghin's eyes brightened, as bad joke-tellers' eyes often do right before they dip into their plethora of bad one-liners. "Y'know... that wasn't an ant hill... that was an ant HELL. ...Hah!!" 

Deciding that they couldn’t take another joke like that, they quickly returned to following the stream. From this point the water split off into two directions, and the party followed to stronger of the currents to the southwest. About thirty feet downstream was a wide and shallow pool where the water stopped.

Peering into the water, they noticed that it was unusually green and murky. Pooling their combined knowledge, Drexel determined that the water appeared poisonous, and Borghin’s dwarven understanding of rock formations indicated the bottom didn’t appear to be either man-made or properly eroded.

Not wanting to mess with poisonous water, the part shifted its focus to searching the surrounding area. The walls were very unusually formed, with many crevices, and within each was a bottle of wine. The party mused at the clever use of a wine rack only to notice with shock as Roughner began drawing a picnic cloth from his pack, and from within his hearty sized stein hanging at his side, he drew forth a very delicately stashed wine glass.

As the rest of the party stifled their laughter and the dwarf added a few snide comments, Holden grabbed for a bottle of wine and heard a hiss as he pulled it from the shelf. Evident that there was a large snake in the makeshift wine-shelf the party began peering into the holes from a distance. It could be seen that the snake partially coiled covered at least 5 feet of the shelf.

Holden decided that he would move up to investigate the shelf closer. Minutes later, the head of the large viper sprung forth and sunk its venomous teeth into his outstretched arm. Reeling in pain he took a step back, while Borghin jumping to the rescue, drew his sword and chopped the snake’s head clean off.

Now that the snake was taken care of, Holden was starting to notice how badly the poison was affecting him. He hobbled over to a nearby corner and took a seat. Meanwhile Spiderfang and Roughner raided the wine rack. Roughner, even with his daintiness, managed to break about as many bottles as he saved.

Holden, feeling very weak, easily convinced the party to make camp here for the night. This wine shelter appeared to be safe and Spiderfang confirmed that there were many layers of untouched dust on the remaining bottles of wine.

As the group took settled down for the night around their cozy campfire, Ziona and Drexel took first watch. After Ziona had finished praying to her goddess during the rising of the moon, Drexel decided it was time tell her about his secret. He began the discussion by talking about how Ziona’s goddess Eilistraee believed that all races could live in peace. With a little twisting he got onto the subject of his own history, as a tiefling who had escaped from Thay. The discussion ended with Drexel removing his enchanted hat of disguise and revealing his true form to her. Having always been different from those around her, Ziona was very accepting and felt good knowing that Drexel had chosen to confided in her.

Very shortly after their conversation, as if waiting for them to finish, a wavering ghostlike voice resounded through the cavern asking, “Whooo Goooes There?”

Ziona quickly worked to wake the others while Drexel gave Spiderfang a light kick. Not hearing a response, the voice angered, “What do the living seek in the sepulcher of Galath the betrayed? Betrayed by small-minded men, glory seekers and snivelers!”

Drexel replied, “We are humble adventurers avenging the wrongful deaths of the keep guardians.”

“Is that so,” the voice questioned. “If you are truly heroes then know this, leave my resting place, and I will leave you unharmed. Furthermore, there is a winged-beast dwelling above that taunts my existence. If you bring me it’s head, I will reward you with one-tenth of my legendary treasure.”

The party began waking up and gathering their belongings. They were not incredibly anxious to start trouble with an ethereal entity, and Borghin was extremely apprehensive about encountering a ghost.

Yet Drexel was still a bit suspicious of the so-called ghost and listened intently to focus on the source of the voice and determined that it was coming from the pool of murky water. Amidst the commotion of the others picking up camp, he was able to call upon arcane magic to detect the presence of magic auras. While focusing in the direction of the voice, he noticed three such auras at the bottom of the pool.

“It’s a hoax,” he shouted.

Dropping everything but their weapons, the group began to ready themselves against the invisible threat. Drexel was the first to react, using his magic to pull one of the items from the pool. Spiderfang witnessed a wand fly from the water past his head and into Drexel’s grip.

Holden, still weak from his poisoning, managed to move away from the camp and hide within the shadows just before the center of the camp filled with a noxious vapor. The stench was horrible, driving everyone out of the area. Drexel, Roughner, and Ziona made it out unaffected, with Borghin the pushing as fast as his short legs would take him, gagging and spitting up the whole way to safety.

Spiderfang, also deeply affected by the choking cloud, decided that the fastest way out of the affected area was by wading through the pool of green water. In the meantime, Holden had noticed something swim up stream and past him, something resembling displaced water.

Minutes later as the fumes dispersed, Spiderfang was found still gagging on the far side to the murky pool. When he regained his composure, he stated that the pool wasn’t poisonous, but that the air sure was.

When Holden told the party that he thought he saw whatever it was swim away, Spiderfang had no qualms about going back into the water and seeing what was really down there. The party worked into the night dredging thousand of corroded coins from the pool. They also found the corpse of a long decade dwarf with a longsword and a scroll case containing arcane inscribed scrolls. Feeling even after looting the ghost of Galath’s hidden treasure, the group decided that it was best if they spent the remainder of the night above ground.

As the group returned to the sinkhole, they noticed that the rope was still hanging. Everyone glanced around and realized that they had left Hunter VonLeer on his own. Borghin made a statement that unnerved the rest of the party, “What if there is just an arm left up there still holding onto the rope.”

Cautiously Ziona stepped forward and tugged on the rope, thankfully finding it was still attached to something larger then a severed hand. Hunter jolted awake as the party called out to him. He had actually fallen asleep while standing and wasn’t exactly sure how much time had past. The party guiltily took advantage of the situation, and began to setup camp on the surface.

Although reasonably dressed for the season the party still found the night chilly, but Spiderfang had made several trips into the brisk water and was now starting to develop a nasty cough.

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Still more to come...
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## Xaltar (Jan 18, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 2, Part 4: What’s all the buzz about...
-------------------------------------------

After the long night, the party was off to slow start the next morning.  Spiderfang woke to find that his outfit was stiff and very uncomfortable.  Irritable and tired the party was prepared to rest another day while Drexel took the 16 hours needed to identify the two items they had pulled from the murky pool the previous evening.

Before most of them managed to pry themselves from the warmth of their bedrolls, they were approached by two elves.  These two elves appeared be brothers, nearly identical in appearance, and seemingly ageless to the majority of the party.  They hailed the party upon sight, but stopped a safe distance from the group.

“It is over an hour after dawn, you humans are sure making poor use of your time,” bellowed one of the elves in the group’s direction. 

After a few snobbish remarks from the elves, especially one biting comment regarding Ziona’s heritage, it was determined that both groups were roughly on the same side, and were seeking the raiders.  Ironically the party thought, these elves were in a very similar predicament to the two drow they had encountered the night before.  The elves were also looking for one of their missing comrades, Inialos Oakwood.

The elves shared information with the group about what details they had on the raiders, and the location of the drow graves to the south.  Drexel, annoyed with the pompous attitudes of the elven rangers, quickly retorted that they had already discovered the drow remains.  He then questioned the elves on their thoughts about the other unmarked graves.

Having not found any other graves, they claimed that they didn’t know what Drexel was referring too.  Drexel’s setup was perfect, and he followed through with, “Well, I guess our human ranger is just more adept at tracking.”

Drexel had scored a critical blow against the Elven egos, and it showed by the stunned looks on their faces.  The brothers, deciding that they didn’t appreciate being the recipients of the snide remarks, bade the party good luck in a sarcastic tone and departed. 

After the elven ranges had left, the group began setting up camp around Drexel to protect him from any possible interruptions.  The party had discovered some valuable items, and they were all anxious to know what they were.

It wasn’t until early afternoon that the party had noticed anything out of the usual.  Holden was the first to spot what appeared to be a gigantic bee.  As the others were listening to the approaching buzzing, Holden had readied an arrow, and fired it into the body of the creature.  Enraged, the bee flew directly towards Holden and plunged it’s stinger deep into his flesh.  Moments after the bee’s stinger ripped off it’s abdomen, it fell to the ground dead.

The party congratulated Holden on his unconventional means of defeating the bee.  Not amused by the other’s comments, Holden decided that he wouldn’t be terribly disappointed if he could manage a full day without being poisoned.

After 16 long hours of spell casting, the party once again called it a night.  Luckily, yet another evening passed without rampaging ogres or haunting ghosts.  In the morning, the party picked up their gear and headed back into the sinkhole to see what other mysteries they could unravel.

Hunter once again was more then willing to stand guard over the hole, and held the rope for the others as they descended back into the dark cavern.  The adventurers decided to continue through the door near the area containing the naturally formed wine rack.

Upon reaching the door, Borghin stepped up to investigate for potential dangers.  He reported to the party that it wasn’t trapped; in fact, it didn’t even have a locking mechanism.  Agreeing that they should enter, Borghin gave the door a tug only to find that it was stuck.  

Borghin, Holden, and Roughner decided that they would make short work of this challenge and each put a hand on the door handle.  After the first unsuccessful try, they decided to try it again with a little more “UMPH.”  To their dismay, their added “UMPH” managed to rip the handle straight off of the door.  Behind them Ziona and Drexel exchanged disbelieving glances.  Nearly fifteen minutes later, the party managed to pry the door free of it’s frame using Borghin’s crowbar.

As the door opened, they were overwhelmed by the sweet smell of flowers and honey.  Looking around, it was evident that the honeycomb covering the walls had also sealed the door.  The party also noticed a loud hum, and they knew instantly that this is where the giant bee that they encountered near the camp had come from.

Moment’s later over ten more giant bees rushed the intruders.  Proving to be little match for the strong arms of the front line and Drexel’s wand of magic missles, the party pressed forward until they found and dispatched of the queen.

After exterminating the Queen and her workers, Borghin began slicing up the pupa covering the walls of the Queen’s chamber, ensuring that there would be no more bees next season.

Holden, pulled out a couple of the wine bottles in which he, Borghin, and Roughner had personally emptied with great pleasure, and began filling then with what he thought to be a very valuable commodity; honey.

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Next Time:  Our unusual heroes make some unusual friends! 
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## Dr Midnight (Jan 19, 2002)

Game night! 

I'm going to rip it up tonight. Evil will not stand before my pow-wah!!


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## Gilthanas_Galanodel (Jan 19, 2002)

Hi,
Just posting to say how much I enjoy this story hour, it is my joint favourite storyhour, sharing the position with Dr Midnight's and Wulf's.
Cya
(p.s, you now have at least one 5 star rating)


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## Xaltar (Jan 20, 2002)

Well, we just got through another intense night of gameplay.  The party is now comprised of 7 PC's.  

I am doing my best to copy over the remainder of my storyhour from the old boards, and should have new story up later today.


- Xaltar


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## Ziona (Jan 21, 2002)

Wow! What a night of gaming! We thought last week was intense, wait 'till you see what Xaltar threw our way this week!

Stay tuned, true believers!!


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## Xaltar (Jan 21, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 3, Part 1: The look of disgust…
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Continuing south from the Bee Hive, They noticed that the cave continued for a short ways and then sharply ended. There was however a crack in the wall that a person could wiggle through, and it was guarded by two aggressive kobolds. 

Spiderfang and Drexel were able to able to translate the sharp yipping sounds as warnings spoken by the kobolds in a form of butchered Draconian. The party soon found that their threats were hollow as each creature fell to the first barrage of crossbow fire. 

Moving up to the crack in the wall, the party let Borghin go first to check things out. He said that it was an empty hallway, so the others followed without hesitation. Rougher came through last in case he was too large and got stuck in the crevice. 

Once the party entered the hall they noticed three major features: a crumbled and caved-in staircase to the west, a bend in the passage to the east, and a silky black stone centered on the south wall. Borghin quickly approached the door, at first searching for traps, and then resorted to looking for anything that would act as either a lock or handle. 

Holden, noticing Borghin’s difficulty in discovering a mechanism to open the door, began to search the door as well. Holden hid a few of those roguish talents up his sleeve as well. 

The others were growing tired of the ineffectiveness of the search, until they heard the sound of more kobolds around the corner to the east. Using the call of battle as an excuse to interrupt the dullness of the unfruitful search, the party readied for action. 

As the group came running around the corner, they noticed that the hallway ended in a storage room that was now overtaken by a small kobold camp. These kobolds hearing the party’s preoccupation with the nearby door and had prepared for battle as well. They were also employing the aid of a very scraggly looking dire weasel. 

The battle should have been very simple, in theory. The party knew that they had the upper hand, but decided that they would show off. Drexel, who was the first to fire managed to hastily load his crossbow and sent his bolt spinning out of control into the air. 

Ziona attempting to place a shot over Holden’s shoulder, managed to lodge the bolt directly into his back. Borghin also fumbled his shot, narrowly missing Spiderfangs head. Meanwhile Rougher reaching back with his greatclub to take a hearty swing, clubbed Drexel in the head, nearly knocking him unconscious. All of the commotion also took Spiderfang by surprise, breaking his concentration and skinned his hand against the tight and jagged wall. 

Holden, the only one who didn’t folly during the combat began cutting through the kobold front line. The others managed to pull themselves together and joined Holden in the onslaught of the feeble creatures. 

During the combat, one kobold in particular had retreated back and was hiding behind some crates and barrels. After the party had torn through their final line of defense, Spiderfang ran up and called out for the hiding kobold to show himself. 

“NOOOO, YOU LEAVE LEPER ALONE,” it whined in draconic. 

Believing the comment about leprosy to be a ploy, Spiderfang proceeded to leap over the barrels and knocked the kobold into unconsciousness with one swift hit from the palm of his hand. 

After the situation was under control, Holden began searching the barrels for any possible treasure that these filthy creatures may have. He was pleasantly surprised when he found several jars of uneaten honey. 

Meanwhile, Spiderfang opened a large create near the unconscious kobold, only to find a good size half-orc curled up, and upside-down in the box. He was covered in bee stings from head to toe and was rather incoherent. Ziona stepped up to heal the tortured man. 

He was grateful for the healing, although still weakened by the effects of the poison. As Drexel had surmised, the man, who called himself Udbul, claimed that the kobolds used him to retrieve honey from the beehive, and forced him to live in a box. 

At first sorry for the man, the party continued to talk to him. Udbul was truly thankful for being saved and was willing to answer any of the questions that they party asked of him. 

He revealed information regarding his status as working for the Zhents, and how often his raiding party came to the area. At some point the conversation turned in an obscure fashion. The group asked Udbul if he had any children, and after a moment of thought he said, surely I must have several scattered across the Dalelands. 

Holden was the first to be offended by Udbul’s response, “No doubt from all of the women you have raped!” 

Udbul, astonished by the accusation, replied, “NO, NO… I usually pay!” 

Disgusted, the party told the half-orc to leave, and to leave quickly. At first reluctant to travel back through the beehive, the look in eyes of the party convinced him otherwise. 

Once Udbul had left their presence, Holden slung the limp kobold over his shoulder and the group jumped in shock as they heard an explosion from the main hallway. As they looked around, it was obvious that Borghin and Drexel had been messing with the door again while the others had interrogated the half-orc Zhent. 

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Still more to come… 
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## Xaltar (Jan 21, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 3, Part 2: Who is the ghost haunting Galath’s Roost…
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Just around the corner, Borghin and Drexel had gone back to investigating the mysterious glossy black door. Borghin sat back to watch as the know-it-all wizard thought he could find something that the dwarf had overlooked. 

As soon as Drexel touched the surrounding doorframe, there was a large explosion. The blast lifted him off of his feet and blew him against the hallway wall opposite the door. Borghin stared in amazement at his severely hurt friend as he himself stood there completely unharmed. 

Before Borghin could even muster his wits to call for help, the others were rounding the corner with great speed. Ziona, one of the first to investigate the loud “BOOM”, rushed over to heal the now unconscious Drexel. 

Just as the group showed up in its entirety, a ghostly elven figure partially emerged through the door. Eerily appearing in its ethereal form, an elven knight clad in gleaming plate armor and a shield bearing two golden stags. Armed with a bastard sword, he loomed over the fallen Drexel and demanded, “Who interrupts the rest of Lyklor Kelerandri?” 

“Drow in my Tower,” Lyklor asked as he eyed the group that stood before him and focused on Ziona’s presence. 

“You’re the monster,” spouted Drexel. 

“Yeah…JERK,” followed Spiderfang with roughly the same lack of tact. 

Not wanting the situation to turn into a disaster, Holden stepped in front of the group and began trying to calm the infuriated ghost. He informed Lyklor that the tower was no longer standing, and that his group, including Ziona, was now working against human and drow raiders in the area. 

After some fast-talking, Holden managed to convince the apparition that the party was working on the same side. Reluctant, but willing to help the group as long as they didn’t attempt to enter the elven burial grounds that he was guarding. The ghost, confined to the crypt was only able to offer information, but none of it was new, so the party bade Lyklor farewell and continued on to explore the remainder of Galath’s Roost. 

During Holden’s conversation with Lyklor, Drexel retreated around the corner. He had believed the apparition was able to see through the illusionary magics that hid his true identity. Spiderfang who was told to move back by the others after he had offended the ghost also joined Drexel. 

While waiting for the seemingly endless conversation that ranged from drow to the more current events in the Dalelands, these two decided they would interrogate Leper, the kobold prisoner by the same name as the disease that he claimed to carry. 

Spiderfang began nudging the unconscious creature with his foot until it woke up. As it awoke, Drexel charmed him. In moments Leper was more then willing to share his vast wealth of knowledge with his new best friend. Leper was overjoyed in fact, since he had never been treated so nicely before, in fact he had never had another friend. 

Spiderfang and Drexel tried desperately to find out if Leper was in fact diseased. He could only inform them that he had no idea. In fact, he didn’t know what leprosy was, and that he was merely told by the now slain elder member of the tribe that he had it and therefore that was his name. 

Frustrated, the two decided they would question the kobold for other useful information. They asked about where the kobold’s base of operations was. Drexel almost bit through his lip when he learned that this kobold’s idea of the huge dungeon in which he lived included only the room that they were in and the connecting hallway. Not only were they trying to deal with a kobold, but also they managed to spare the dumbest one. 

Spiderfang and Drexel decided that they were getting nowhere, but figured that it would stay out of trouble if it continued to believe that Drexel was still it’s friend. Leper would settle for nothing less than to fight along his newfound hero’s side. Therefore; when Holden’s conversation with the ghost was finished, the three of them: Spiderfang, Drexel, and Leper rejoined the others. 

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Still more to come… 
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## Xaltar (Jan 21, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 3, Part 3: Hooked on Roughner...
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The party continued back through the beehive and followed the stream to the north to find the creature that had posed as Galath’s ghost on the first night. Holden had sworn that he had seen something swim off during that encounter. 

With Holden in the lead, they soon found a pool where this part of the stream ended. Although the surroundings appeared to be a natural cave, there was a set of carved stairs that appeared to lead up into the dilapidated keep above. 

As the party drew nearer to the water, a few of the members spotted something moving in the water. As if in slow motion, the air quickly filled with the toxic fumes as Spiderfang and Holden lept directly into the brisk 15 feet deep water. 

The next couple of minutes were completely chaotic for the group. People were running every which way trying to avoid the toxic fumes, but also trying to get in on the action. 

Once the party had all made it around the gas to the surface of the pool, they found that Holden and Spiderfang were having a great deal of difficulty fighting the water mephit in its natural environment. Furthermore, the mephit had successfully gated in a friend, and the two watery fiends were putting up a good deal of resistance. 

From above Drexel blasted the creatures with his wand of magic missles, but the others found that there was little they could do. That is until one of the mephits tore into Spiderfang’s chest with its claws, sending him into unconsciousness. It was apparent to the others as his body went limp, that he was going to drown before he bled to death. 

Immediately Borghin readied his grappling hook to fish for Spiderfang, yet his first attempt to fish him out failed. Desperate, Drexel demanded Roughner to jump into the water and help. Roughner had only hesitated due to the fact that he wore heavy chain, and was bound to sink to the bottom of the pool rather then being effective in combat. 

Without further prodding, he lept into the pool just as Borghin made his next cast into the water with his grappling hook. Ziona, waiting on the bank to heal Spiderfang closed her eyes as she witnessed the grappling hook catch Roughner in the face right beneath his troll-skull helmet. 

The now murky water was quickly turning a light shade of pink with all of the blood that had been spilled. None of the party members could see what was happening until Borghin’s rope went taught. As he braced himself against the weight and began pulling in the line, he found that he caught Roughner who in turned managed to grab onto Spiderfang. 

As Roughner laid the limp body of Spiderfang on the ground, Ziona rushed over to assist. His lips we cold and colorless, but with her extensive knowledge of the healing arts, she managed to resuscitate the young monk. 

Knowing that Spiderfang was going to be okay, Holden took one last breath and dove back into the dark pool to skewer his friend’s attacker as Drexel pounded it with magic missles. They had had enough of these mischievous mephits, and quickly ended the battle. 

Emerging victorious from the pool, Holden and Roughner were far less then thrilled knowing that they were going to remain soaking wet for a while. The others were the ones whom seemed most affected due to the resulting souring smell created by Roughner’s soaked hides. 

Still early in the day, the group gathered up their belongings and trudged up the stairs to investigate what other threats remain above. 

Map from Dungeon # 87






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Still more to come...
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## Xaltar (Jan 21, 2002)

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Session 3, Part 4: Ziona’s new pet...
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Upstairs, the roofless keep was full of bright sunlight that struggled to bring warmth to the brisk day. Yet, the air was crisp, and the wind blew hard. It was obvious that winter was coming. After a quick shiver from the sopping wet trio of Holden, Spiderfang and Roughner, the group trekked forward to explore the dilapidated structure. 

Drexel noticed a few larger closed in areas towards the center of the keep. He quickly headed to the first room, with the others in tow as he noticed a peculiar thing, there was a large oak tree growing up through the floor. Drexel stopped at the base of the tree while the rest of the party moved in to search the room for clues. 

As the group stood by, Drexel felt something fall lightly against his back. As he looked up into the tree to find where the fallen object had come from, he was hit square in the head with an acorn. Annoyed with the intrusion, Drexel began casting… 

Before he could finish, Drexel found himself enveloped in a barrage of acorns. While he moved back away from the rain of acorns, Spiderfang had used his magical slippers to walk up the backside of the tree. He quickly found the source of the annoyance in the form of a tiny but plump purplish dragon looking creature. 

The psuedodragon who went by the name of Rossal was very apprehensive in negotiating to the party, well that was until they brought up the topic of honey. Licking his lips, Rossal quickly flew down and landed at the feet of the adventures. He wasn’t the type to pass up free sweets! 

Both Drexel and Ziona pulled out jars of honey and took off the lids. Suddenly it was as if two children were trying to see who could call the family pet to them first. Ziona and Drexel were hunched over calling to the tiny creature. Rossal was torn for a moment, then looking up at Drexel, said in a small and wavering voice, “You’re scary.” 

Drexel stood there looking perplexed as Rossal flew into Ziona’s arms and began scooping the honey into his mouth at an alarming rate. For several minutes the party just stood by waiting for him to finish. After he licked the jar clean, Ziona asked him a few questions about what he knew of the keep. 

To a great benefit of the group, the psuedodragon was in fact well informed as to the inhabitants or the keep and the with the passing raiders. The party learned of other hazards in the keep, such as large beetles, that they thought were better to just avoid. 

After mapping out the areas that they had explored, and worked on some calculations of when the raiders had last passed. They suddenly realized that they only had one more day before the raiders would return, and they begun discussion some battle plans in further detail. 

While they were talking, Holden quickly looked up. He cocked his head to the side, as if still listening, and whispered, “I hear horses.” 

Shocked and feeling unprepared, the party began running in all different directions. Some retreated back, while others hid behind the rubble remaining from the outer wall, and even a few jumped down and hid in the ravine. 

As the riders drew nearer, everybody tensed up and prepared to grab their weapons. They didn’t feel prepared for this battle and they all secretly weren’t convinced that this could turn out well. Everyone had prayed that they had hidden themselves well enough. 

It wasn’t until the mounted and cloaked figures came towards the makeshift bridge to the keep that Holden was able to spot the symbol of the “Riders of Mistledale” while hiding behind his rock. Realizing that the party was going to be in more danger in this instance if it looked as though they were arranging an ambush of their own by hiding in the ruins, Holden leapt forward from behind his rocky niche and called out to the leader. 

-------------------------------------------
Still more to come...
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## Xaltar (Jan 21, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 3, Part 5: When a plan comes together...
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Holden and the Riders of Mistledale (A group of lawmen that protected the surrounding area) swapped information on the recent disruptions and discussed possible courses of action.  Meanwhile, the rest of the party began to pull themselves from their hiding places and joined Holden’s side.

The group found the Riders to be polite, but preoccupied.  They seemed grateful that the party was willing to follow-up on the apprehension of these raiders, allowing them to return to their battle against the raiding drow.  Before they left, Holden had persuaded them to assist the party in constructing a three-section pit trap along the path that the raiders were known to travel.

After a long and hard day for everyone, the Riders pack up their horses and wished the party luck.  Their captain approached Holden and gave him a pat on the back saying, “You have a good head on your shoulders, and I think that your plan might just work!”

With that said, he handed Holden a couple of healing potions to aid them in their upcoming battle.  He also mentioned that nearly a ten-day ago, the raiders had raided a nearby farm and had taken a stable boy named Walter and a horse named Axel.  After he mention that there was a hundred gold piece rewards for the return of each, Drexel asked, “It’s a horse, how do we know we have the right one?”

Smiling, the captain stated, “You’ll know!  This horse is a prize stallion, and he’s also got a bit of an attitude…of course that can be overcome with a good apple.”

The captain reached in his pack, pulled forth a fresh red apple and tossed it to Drexel.  With a wave he turned and mounted his horse and within minutes the Riders were gone.

After a good night’s rest, the party woke the next morning to perfect their trap, and to work on creating better hiding spots; they weren’t going to be taken off-guard again!  They dug into the side of the ravine, and managed to setup a well-hidden alcove.  It was all planned and secured, as the raiders rode by the side of the keep, the first horses in line would trip into the covered ditch, and the party would use the surprise to gain the upper hand.  While the others lightly rested, Rossal was given another jar of honey and asked to keep lookout in a nearby tree.

The party waited tensely, overpowered by the smell of freshly dug soil, with sweaty hands grasping their weapons in anticipation.  They didn’t want to discuss what they were all thinking, what if they weren’t strong enough to beat this other party in a frontal assault.  Suddenly acorns started fall into the ravine, and they all new that it was almost time for action.

As they peered from they’re hiding place, they could see a group a about 8 humans and half-orcs with some captives slung over the horses of the riders in the rear.  Leading the group was a very large half-orc with thickly dreaded hair.  As their commander rode forward, the horse hit the first covered section of the covered ditch and faltered.  In fact, with the weight of it’s warrior, the horse’s front legs crumpled forward with a sharp cracking sound.

In that moment as the raiders watched their leader’s horse crash to the ground, the party sprang forth from they’re hiding spot.  They had three primary targets, a mage, a priest, and the barbaric half-orc leader.  Yet the prone leader stood little chance as Holden tumbled forward and drove his great-sword into his back, burying it to the hilt as several feet of sword protruded from his chest.

Spiderfang rushed forth, pummeling the cleric with his powerful glowing fists, while finishing his flurry of attacks with a hit that snapped the man’s neck.  Meanwhile, Borghin’s trained crossbow shot struck down the mage in one shot, while Ziona provided cover against the more heavily armored warriors.  In the rear of the party, three half-orcs halted their horses.  With only two of higher ranking Zhent officers left, and all of their leaders killed in the initial ambush, they were having second thoughts about throwing their lives away.

The half-orcs weren’t going to pursue suicide, but the other two were devoted Zhent warriors, and they drew their weapons to attack.  Drexel quickly charmed one of the Zhents, and called out to his new friend in desperation as the other warrior approached.  Grack had been in the loyal employ of the Zhents for many years, but he wasn’t about to let his friend Drexel die this way.  Grack ran to intercept the hit from his commander, and proceeded to run him through with his long sword.

During this time, the rest of the party surrounded the half-orcs and demanded their surrender.  They were more then willing to oblige after witness the near instantaneous slaughter of their comrades.  When one of their lower-level officers approached at Drexel’s side, they were convinced that they had been “Set Up.”

The party let the cowardly half-orcs go free on foot after they had explained to the best of their ability how they understood the portal to work.  The party also released the prisoners and provided them with horses to return to their homes.

After the half-orcs and freed captives had moved out of sight, Holden hefted the body of the dead cleric over one shoulder and headed towards the area where he had first found the horse tracks that abruptly disappeared.  After waiving the cleric’s left hand, bearing a tattooed eye in the center, over that spot on the ground…a portal opened.  

Drexel turned to his new ‘friend’ Grack and asked him how much time they had before the portal closes.  He replied, “Uh well, I guess about ten minutes, so you better hurry because you can’t open it again for another ten-day.”

Then with a harsh tug on his robes, Drexel looked down to see someone he had completely forgotten about, Leper the kobold.  Looking up, he quickly did some math in his head and realized that his charm person spell should have worn off by now.  Squinting his eyes he looked towards Borghin and Spiderfang as if they might know something that he overlooked.  Both ignorant in the ways of the arcane arts just shrugged.

With another harsh tug Drexel looked down again, “YES???”

“Are we going somewhere?”

-------------------------------------------
Next time:  Storming the keep...
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## Xaltar (Jan 21, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 4, Part 1: Playing the part...
-------------------------------------------

As Drexel looked down at the potentially leprous kobold he said, “YEAH!  You’re going home!”

“But you’re my only friend!”

“That spell wore off!” Drexel retorted, shaking his head. 

“But you’re my only friend!”

Finally Drexel got the hint across with, “Get Lost”, and Leper ran off towards the direction of Galath’s Roost, heartbroken.

Annoyed by the distraction, especially since time was quickly running out, the party discussed their next course of action.  They had spent a full day planning their last battle, but never thought about how they were going to get into or through the Zhent outpost on the other side of the portal.

Roughner, who had been quiet for a while peered through the portal and turned back with a worried look on his face, “Now what?”

Ziona recommended that they just wait the ten-day and come back when they can reopen the portal.  Several of the other party members thought that waiting might not be a bad idea.  That was until Grack spoke up, “Uh, well, their going to be upset if the raiding party doesn’t show back up on time.”

Suddenly a plan clicked, with less then five more minutes to prepare, they quickly began to disguise themselves in the clothes of the fallen raiding party.  Borghin used his swift skill with rope to create makeshift bonds that could be easily freed.  He gave a set to Ziona, Hunter, and Spiderfang while he put another over his own wrists.  Drexel donned the robe of the mage, and Holden wore those vestments of the fallen cleric.  Roughner was told that he was their ‘new mercenary’, replacing the cowardly half-orcs.

As the others rode through the portal, Holden delayed a moment.  After the others had passed, he took out his great sword and chopped the hand off of cleric’s corpse lying at the base of the portal.  Thinking that this may be his only way home, he justified his own actions, and placed the severed hand in his bag.  Jumping on his horse, he followed the others to their fate at the Zhent outpost.

With less then a minute to spare the party arrived at the Zhent outpost.  They appeared on a rocky path that leads to the entrance of the citadel.  Above it was evident that there were at least two arrow slits that could be used against them.  They were going to have to bluff their way in, but nobody said anything.

“Hail,” came a booming voice that knocked the group back into the reality of the situation.

Drexel replied in a gruff voice, “Please, we have no time for your useless banter!  Let us in this instant or I’ll bring down Bane’s might.”

With some audible grumbling coming from within the guard tower, they began to extend the mechanized bridge that covered the ten-foot wide chasm protecting the front gate.  Drexel turned back to the others and smiled, “Just need to know how to talk to these evil people.  Now we need to get in there and take them down as fast as possible”

Grack looked back towards Drexel and asked, “What exactly are we doing anyway?”

Realizing that maybe he had said more then he should have, “Yeah, well you see…we’re just going to take over the keep and become more powerful, you want to become more powerful right?”

Grack suddenly looked a little paranoid.  “Uh Yeah, I want to be powerful.”

“Good, then you lead.”
As the bridge clicked into place, Grack nervously urged his horse forward across the bridge.  When they all got to the other side, two guards standing behind a porculous stopped them.  They quickly looked over the party, and eyed the prisoners.

“You took an awful lot of casualties for having so many prisoners,” one of the guards bluntly stated.

Drexel quick to keep their cover, “Well, we captured these then were ambushed and the half-orc cowards ran!  Although we’ve got this new guy in the back though, now he is a good mercenary.”

“Ahh, don’t lie, we kicked yer arse!” Shouted Borghin.

The guard was appalled, “Gag that prisoner!”

“Yeah, please do,” added Hunter, who was also supposed to be a prisoner.  

Roughner trying to save the situation jumped down and ‘roughed’ them up a bit.  Content but still reluctant, the guards agree to let the raiding party in, but eyed them all of the way down the main hall.

-------------------------------------------
Still more to come...
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## Xaltar (Jan 21, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 4, Part 2: Freeing the slaves...
-------------------------------------------

A short ways down the hall, Grack lead the party to the stables where his raiding party’s horses were kept.  As they stabled the horses, Holden took a few minutes to search around for the horse named Axel that they had been sent to recover.  

Looking in each of the closed stables was tedious business.  The first several had nothing more then standard livestock including animals such as sheep.  As Holden opened one door towards the far end of the hall, he noticed that the stall was completely full of mud and had been converted into a pigpen.  However, the obvious factor had to be the large wild pig that charged the surprised ranger.

One of the pig’s small tusks punctured into Holden’s mid-gut leaving a very serious wound.  It wasn’t long before the whole party went to his aid.  The wild pig was no match for Holden’s greatsword, but it had still managed to inflict several grave wounds before it met its untimely demise.  Holden while shaking his head as Ziona bandaged his wounds said, “I will never touch PORK again!”

Holden and Drexel shoved the dead pig back into his stall and shut the door while Ziona and the other mock prisoners resumed their disguise.  They had managed to regain their composure just in time as a guard from the front gate had arrived to investigate the noise.

As the guard demanded an explanation, Drexel poked Grack in the ribs.  Grack in turn spoke, “Uh, well…Uh you see the horse reared and the dwarf feel off onto the floor.  We’re bring them down to the stockade now though, so there won’t be any more disruptions.”

Satisfied, although somewhat suspicious, the guard left the party and returned to his post.  The group quickly moved down the hall following Grack to the prison area so they could keep moving before their cover was entirely blown.

After they descended the stairs into the lower level of the citadel, two human guards greeted them.  “We’ll take them from here,” stated one of the armored guards.

“Perhaps we should give you a hand, there are quite a few prisoners,” responded Holden as he began moving up and passed the first guard.

As the guard began turning to face Holden who had moved passed the guard, Holden drew his sword and slashed a brutal wound across the flat of the guard’s back.  His partner turned to witness his fallen ally and as he turned back around to face the party, found that crossbow bolt sink into his forehead.  Borghin stood across from the man, having slipped his poorly tied bonds, with a big smile on his face and a crossbow in his hands.

Drexel relieved the guards of their keys and they continued to explore around.  The party proceeded to explore a passageway to the north.  After a long and slowly sloping set of stairs, the party came to a room that was roughly shaped like a hand.  As they peered into the room, they noticed that in each finger shaped alcove, there was a pedestal with a drum on it, except for the center alcove, which contained three levers.

In the center of the room was a large grate that was about 10 feet long and 15 feet wide.  The foul stench of decay rose from underneath the grate, while the ceiling vault in the center above, and lit the room with a glowing light source.  There was an unholy feeling associated with the room that sent a sudden shiver up her spine.

The party was not thrilled about searching this room, so they began climbing the stairs back towards the prison chambers.  As the turned to leave, they didn’t notice that Borghin’s curiosity had gotten the better of him again.  He rushed forward, attempting to jump over as much of the grate as he could.  Although he landed on grate in roughly the center, the cold iron bars did not falter and drop him to the obvious pit of darkness that lied below.  

With the remainder of the party almost halfway up the stairs, he quickly searched the levers for traps, and began pulling them.  He turned as did the rest of the party to hear a large clanging.  The center section of the grate had swung down into the pit.  As a hand covered in rotten flesh reached forth from the pit, Borghin yelled, “GUYS, HELP!”	

Turning to see the undead hand reaching for her friend Ziona charged down the stares and peered into the dark pit separating her from Borghin.  There were three ghoulish monsters working to climb they’re way out.  Calling to the power of Elistraee, Ziona called out with such strong conviction that the undead monsters burst apart and disintegrated.  Even the presence of Bane’s evil aura wasn’t enough to diminish the righteous might of this cleric.

With Borghin safely back across the pit, the party headed up the stairs and back to the prisoners quarters.  Drexel, using his magically enchanted hat to alter his appearance, made himself appear to be one of the guards that greeted them when they first entered the lower level.  He convinced Grack to lead since this may not go smoothly.

As Grack and Drexel entered into the next room under the pretense that they were delivering prisoners, the two half-orc guards appeared to be rather skeptical.  Unsure if it was because they had heard the previous commotion, or if it was Drexel’s tone of voice, the party took little time to remedy the situation by dispatching of the guards.

As they searched the bodies of the guards they found a handful of keys.  They began by unlocking the furthest door.  Manacled in the corner was a knight in platemail.  He appeared to be unkempt, but also unharmed.  The party learned that he was Kurud, Paladin of Torm.  As Drexel searched through the keys to unlock the prisoner, he found that the manacle keys were not present on this ring.  However, Borghin stepped forward to make little work of the locks.

The next occupied cell contained both a male moon elf and a female drow.  It appeared that they had enough slack to both reach the food, or each other in the middle, but both had retreated to one side or the other.  This was obviously some sort of sick joke setup by the now deceased jailers.

The party quickly released the elf, but left the drow.  Gwenect Moondark, the still chained drow insisted that if the party frees her, she would grant them a favor.  Looking to the newly freed moon elf, Inialos Oakwood for the final vote, he nodded in her favor.  Holden was far from comfortable with the idea, and he insisted that he would always walk behind her…he wanted to be the one to do the backstabbing, not the other way around.

The last inhabited cell contained several beaten, abused, and malnourished humans.  Among them was Walter; the young stable hand that had been kidnapped.  The party began distributing food to the half staved prisoners and told them to remain in this guard area until the party found a way for them to escape.  Most everyone was content, except for Kurud who insisted that he aid the party in taking over the citadel.

Drexel, realizing how much time they had taken to get this far into the citadel quickly asked Grack to go back and check the paladin’s cell for his sword.  Grack was reluctant at first to the fact that they would keep Kurud’s weapon in his cell.  Drexel convinced Grack that he had seen it in there, and that a real friend would check regardless.

As Grack walked into the cell to investigate, Drexel slammed the door shut and locked it.  “Hey guys, this isn’t funny.  Ha-ha, now let me out.”  Grack went on until the Drexel’s spell wore off and the others couldn’t help but chuckle.

Drexel, Ziona, Borghin, Roughner, Hunter, Holden, Spiderfang, and their new companion Kurud moved out to explore the remainder of the Zhent citadel.  As they left the inner prison and returned to the entry room of the lower level, a secret door swung open.  Standing in the doorway was a heavily armored cleric wielding a morningstar.

The battle escalated as another cleric and an acolyte of Bane joined in the fray.  After quickly disposing of the first cleric, Holden, Hunter and Spiderfang forced the other back and into his room while Drexel and Borghin accosted the acolyte with spells and bolts.  The remaining cleric posed a significant threat to the party however.  Not only was unbelievably well armored, he had an invisible ally interfering with the party.

When Ziona moved forward she called to the others, “I can’t see what your fighting…where is it?”

Rossal took this as his cue and poked his head out from under Ziona’s cloak.  He used his telepathy to inform the others of the direction of they’re invisible antagonist.  Once the monster had been located, Hunter sliced through the air.  The halves of an imp’s corpse and a stream of blue-black blood as Hunter used his own form of ‘Dispel Magic.’

Meanwhile Spiderfang using his quarterstaff went toe-to-toe with the armored cleric while Holden flanked from behind.  Hunter soon joined his friends and they quickly finished off the remaining cleric.  Upon defeating the clerics of Bane the party looted their rooms and belongings and decided that with the lower level cleared, and with Ziona and Drexel low on spell-power, they should spend the night here and intercept the next changing of the guard.

-------------------------------------------
Still more to come...
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## Xaltar (Jan 21, 2002)

Session 4.3 - To be copied over...


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## Dartan (Jan 21, 2002)

Soon the party will have another dwarf!


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## Xaltar (Jan 22, 2002)

Session 4.4 - To be copied over...


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## Xaltar (Jan 22, 2002)

Session 4.5 - To be copied over...


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## Xaltar (Jan 22, 2002)

Session 5.1 - To be copied over...


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## Xaltar (Jan 22, 2002)

Session 5.2 - To be copied over...


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## Xaltar (Jan 22, 2002)

Session 5.3 - To be copied over...


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## Xaltar (Jan 22, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 5, Part 4: Bushwhacked...
-------------------------------------------

The party solemnly packed up their equipment and watched Roughner move deeper into the forest.  Spiderfang wrapped his severed hand in clean rags and placed it in his backpack.  On the way back to town, the young monk contemplated ending or at least postponing his career as a vigilante, traveling to a major city, and offering his servitude to a powerful cleric to reattach his hand.

Riding on the horses they confiscate from Zhent Keep, the party was making good time along the path back from the troll cave to the town of Ashabenford.  Suddenly from the side of the road, several men dressed in dark purple cloaks jumped up from the bushes and began attacking the party.

“Take as many as you can alive!”  Yelled the man in the back, who by appearance was obviously a mage.

Even though these bandits had a spell caster in their ranks, they posed little threat to the heroes that had just defeated a whole family of trolls.  Spiderfang took this opportunity to release some of his built up aggression, and found that he was still a force to be reckoned with even if he did only have one hand.

Drexel went toe to toe with the mage who wore a unique looking claw on one arm, allowing him to cast without dropping his weapon.  Feeling particularly threatened by the speed in which his bandit allies were being dispatched, he drew a magical wand and fired several magic missiles into the Drexel.  The mage then began casting invisibility, in order to flee while unseen as the party dealt with the last of the other raiders.

Unfortunately for him, Holden had quickly slipped up beside him through the woods, and came rushing out, tripping the casting mage with the flat side of his great sword.  The stunned wizard looked up in astonishment as Holden proceeded to plunge the large blade through his midsection, killing him instantly.

As they searched the bodies, they found a symbol that none of them had ever seen before.  After some consideration, the party decided that they didn’t like that such a symbol meant the involvement of more individuals like the ones they had just defeated.  However, they were in no condition to head deeper into the forest in search of the raider’s hideout.  Holden took a few moments to mark a nearby tree so that they would be able to find the location when they returned.  The bodies were left where they fell.  With any luck, their friends would come looking for them, and when they had, they would leave fresh tracks for Holden to follow when the party returned from town. 

Upon reaching Ashabenford that night, the party felt good to be back in the safety of the small but quiet town.

-------------------------------------------
Next Time: Does Spiderfang leave the party?  What does the party learn of the strange symbol?
-------------------------------------------


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## Xaltar (Jan 22, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 6, Part 1: Readying for Adventure...
-------------------------------------------

When they arrived back in town; Spiderfang had come to the realization that he couldn’t just leave his friends.  He was now somewhat disabled; but he told the party that he would stay and help them investigate this new threat.  Although several of the others noted that Spiderfang’s sudden change in attitude seemed almost unhealthy, maybe even borderline self-destructive.  They all hoped that he would snap out of it soon, and they spoke of a day when they would be powerful enough to heal him to full health.  Yet he was young and impatient, and found it hard to stay optimistic about promises of the distant future.  His youth taught him that the future only brought more doubt, confusion, and personal loss.

The party was somewhat optimistic when Tansooth headed off to the local pewter-smith, Arvien of Ashabenford.  He brought with him a gauntlet and asked Arvien if she could fill the fingers with pewter in order to keep the gauntlet in a permanent fist, which Tansooth planned to strap to his handless arm.

Meanwhile, Holden visited the house of the High Councilor to negotiate payment for the apprehension of additional raiders that the party might encounter when they track the source of this newfound threat.

Drexel visited the home of Noristuor, the mage of Ashabenford.  When asking around, Drexel found out that no one was interested in discussing Noristuor in great length, but he did find out that the man was renowed for his habitual sour manner, sharp tongue, and frightening appearance.  Drexel took to asking the local children where Noristuor lived, hoping that his nefarious reputation would have interested kids.  He managed to find some children, who spoke of Noristuor as if a monster lived in town.  After Drexel handed them a few gold, they spoke freely of where he might be able to find the mage who was obviously a tiefling.  Drexel was amused by this discovery, and became more encouraged to meet the man. 

As he approached the moderate sized house at the end of a side street, he noticed that it was very quiet, and none of the neighborhood children played near the house.  The front yard was fenced in, and when Drexel approached, the image of a face appeared and spoke in a resounding voice, “GO-A-WAY!!!”

The voice continued to speak, while Drexel annoyingly pushed the gate open and moved up to the front door.  Knocking repeatedly on the door seemed to have no effect, so Drexel called out, “I can pay you for your services, and I can pay you VERY well.”

Reluctantly, Noristuor opened the door and let Drexel in.  After some degree of bartering, Drexel was allowed the use of Noristuor’s library for a substantial amount of coin.  When Drexel was finished he spoke one last time to Noristuor, only this time in Infernal, “GhorBichLokNiFer”, or “Good-Bye” in common.
With a crooked smile Noristuor watched Drexel walk through the front gate.  Perhaps they would someday be friends Drexel thought as walked away with a few more spells in his spellbook.  He grimaced as the animated face continued to bellow; “GO-A-WAY”, and a large group of children had amassed at the end of the road to see the man who had braved the company of the demonic magician.  

Drexel was suddenly very thankful for the hat of disguise that hid his own tiefling appearance.  Not only does he have many more unusual traits then Noristuor, he was also hunted for his innate ability to control spellfire.  The thought of what would happen if those who had chased him out of Thay ever found him ran chills down his spine, and he quickly concentrated on more pleasant thoughts.

The next day, the party regrouped and was more then delighted to discover that they were going to be paid for the mission of tracking down the raiders.  They also found out that the symbol was that of the Cult of the Dragon, a group that assists undead dragons in conquering all of Faerun.

Borghin shook his head in disbelief, “That’s got to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard!”

------------------------------------------
Still more to come…
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## Xaltar (Jan 22, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 6, Part 2:  Failure...
-------------------------------------------

Holden found the trail left by the cultists easy to track and the group arrived at a set of ruins that appeared to be more of a dumping ground for large melted stones rather then the remains of a structure.

In the center of rocks, which were arranged in a fashion that indicated this must have been a tower at some point in time, was a dark stairwell.  Holden, taking point as usual, led the party down the stairs and stopped when he came to a dark black curtain at the bottom.  He carefully inspected the canvas like material.

On the other side the cultists watched with stifled laughter.  Hands could be seen reaching around through the black curtain, which kept the light from their chamber from catching the attention of anyone who should wander by.  They looked at each other and drew their bows while quickly counting their numbers to make sure that they were all there.  Then they opened fire upon the moving curtain.

Holden was taken by surprise as a handful of arrows pelted into the curtain.  He sustained only a few scratches, but he was less then pleased when he found another volley coming his way before he could react.

Bursting through the curtain, the party found themselves in the sleeping quarters for a large number of cultists.  Dropping their bows, the cultists rushed forward to engage the emerging party members.  Holden cut through rows of opponents, and managed to mark himself as the biggest threat.  He found that the remaining cultists were flanking him from all angles.

Soon the battle turned in the favor of the heroes after Holden tumbled around the room managing to shake his pursuers.  The final standing cultist took off through the far door and began running for the stairs when Drexel pulled out his wand and shouted, “Gal-Cart!”

Magic missiles flew forward and dropped the injured sentry before he could even reach the first step.  Ziona used this time to heal Holden, who had sustained a large number of wounds.  In fact it took several minutes for Ziona to fully heal Holden.  During that time, Borghin, Drexel, and Spiderfang stood waiting, rushing with adrenaline, to see if anyone else would come and challenge the party.

The stairs went down one flight to a small stoop and then turned back the other way so they couldn’t see what was on the floor below.  Moments later they heard someone running up the stairs.  A man dressed in studded leather stopped at the stoop, wide-eyed as one of Drexel’s spells and Borghin’s well-placed crossbow bolt caused him to fall dead in mid-step.

Spiderfang didn’t even listen to Drexel and Borghin as they called for him to wait.  After the investigating cultist fell, Spiderfang ran past his teammates and down the stairs.  His new outlook on life was not to care about what would happen to him.  How much worse could things be after you’ve lost your hand as a fighting monk?

As he reached the bottom, he found that the remaining cultists were prepared for him.  They had heard the noises above.  Several hid in the shadows, while the others merely stood at the ready.  Across the far end of the room stood a wizard with two personal guards.  Near the bottom of the stairs was a wall of chains and shackles, with a ragged looking air genasi laid upon the floor in poor condition.

Spiderfang focused on the wizard and started to charge only to find himself surrounded by four rougish fighters, and two other cultists in half-plate.  Taken by surprise, he was dealt many deep wounds.  He called out in immense pain, but he found that he was still standing.

He knew his friends were right behind him, but before they could transcend the stairs Tansooth saw the wizard cast a spell and four magic missiles shot forth.  Spiderfang closed his eyes and whispered, “I have failed you master.”

At that moment Tansooth, the last known Spiderfang, fell dead. 

------------------------------------------
Still more to come…
-------------------------------------------


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## Xaltar (Jan 22, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 6, Part 3:  Danger Escapes...
-------------------------------------------

The others made it to the bottom of the stairs only to find it was too late.  

A horde of cultists was waiting for them brandishing their weapons, and they didn’t think twice about stomping across the mangled body that was once known as Spiderfang.  Holden was the first to engage in combat, but fighting on the stairs only held the rest of the party back.

After taking a few volleys of magic missiles, Drexel had an idea.  The heroes were starting to even the odds, but the evil spellcaster was much more powerful than the party.  With a whisk of his hand, Drexel called upon his innate ability as a tiefling to summon a sheet of darkness.  As soon as the wizard had lost sight of the party, they started to pull themselves together and renewed the relentlessness of their assault.  Borghin rained bolts down on the cultists like a furious storm, while Ziona summoned a celestial creature to gnaw at their legs.

When all of the attackers on the near side of the darkness had fallen, Drexel turned to the Air Genasi captive with a finger pressed to his lips.  Holden and Drexel stood still to listen for movement from the hidden wizard and his two bodyguards while Borghin stealthily unlocked the slave.  

Ziona hovered over Spiderfang’s limp and trampled body.  With tears in her eyes, she prayed for Eilistraee to guide him into the afterlife.  She had never witnessed a death before, and she felt helpless since Tansooth was wounded beyond the capacity of her restorative powers.

The party waited for the darkness to pass, readied with weapons drawn.  Beads of sweat rolled down their faces with nervousness and anticipation.  The evil wizard had far too much time to prepare, and although they knew that they could beat him, they were afraid that they could suffer another casualty.  However, when the blackness began to dissipate and the remainder of the room was revealed, it was empty.

Searching around fanatically, they managed to find a secret door.  Ready for battle, Holden whipped the door open, only to find that it was an ancient storage closet and not an escape passage.  The room was very dusty and it was obvious that no one had entered this area for hundreds of years.  Drexel’s eyes lit up when they discovered a very detailed instruction manual on the topic of enchanting magic weapons.  There was other booty to be found in the secret room as well, including two scrolls, a spellbook, and a few finely crafted rapiers.

Still, the party had no answers as to the disappearance of the cultist wizard and his minions.  They continued to search the room and Ziona helped them with the use of a detect magic spell.  There were two areas of great interest, each radiating auras of magic.  First a well-worn wooden workbench riddled with character from it’s many cuts and scratches radiated with the residue of spells that had been forged into magic weapons.  The second was an 8-foot-wide circular area within a small alcove, carved to display a splendid city within a great forest.  In front of the ornate wall stood a 1-foot-wide iron brazier full of a granular white substance, which was quickly identified as salt.

“That’s Myth Drannor,” exclaimed Holden, who was overly excited by the fact that he was able to identify the location.

Ziona stated in pure awe, “Wow!  That wall is very magical!”

Holden waved to the rest of the party, “Give me a few minutes, I’ll figure this out.”

Meanwhile, the party talked to the Air Genasi, Arion, about how he had become captured.  He explained that he was a wilderness wanderer who had been ambushed in the nearby woods.  He said that the cultists referred to “putting him to work in the crypts.”

He offered to help the party track down the evil mage who had stripped him of his equipment.  The party, now down one member, was more than willing to have Arion join their ranks.  He rippled with finely toned muscles.  He could definitely add that level of physical force that the group seemed to be lacking.

After doling out a weapon and some potions to Arion, the party organized a makeshift funeral for Spiderfang.  They hauled his body upstairs, and placed him in a bed that was curtained off from the others.  It was decided that beasts and animals would not likely find the body before they returned from avenging his death.  Ziona spoke a short but poetic eulogy of her fallen friend who had perished before his time.

Returning downstairs, everyone was in a somber mood.  Drexel turned to Holden and asked, “Let’s just get this over with, so how do we get through the wall?”

Holden’s face reddened.  “Um, I still haven’t figured it out.”

Holden tried taking a handful and then walking through the wall unsuccessfully.  One time he closed his eyes and attempted to confidently walk through, while speaking, “I disbelieve,” only to smash his face into the relief covered wall another time.

Over the next two hours, the party struggled with the mystery of the wall.  Finally, Holden went back to experimenting with the salt, and as he rubbed some across the wall, a portal opened into a well-lit cave.

“Oh, THAT’s why there’s all of that salt on the floor.”

------------------------------------------
Still more to come…
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## Xaltar (Jan 22, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 6, Part 4:  Stuck in Myth Drannor...
-------------------------------------------

Stepping through the portal, the party found itself in a cave illuminated by a single continual flame sconce and lightly glowing moss growing around the edges of a small pool of water.  A stone statue of a regal and benevolent looking woman stood to the right of the portal.  Drexel quickly identified it was an older rendition of his patron, Mystra, the goddess of magic.

Borghin was the last through the portal, and was very distraught when he found that he couldn’t walk back the way he had come.  All of his hard earned money, (which he had pilfered from the troll’s cave), was buried on the other side.  He stopped his foot on the ground, flustered.

The moss amazed Holden since he had never encountered anything quite like it in all of his time traversing the wilderness.  He took a piece from the rocks and placed it in his bag, yet only moments later the plant had wilted and died.  Further puzzled, he just gave into his curiosity and ate a handful.  Noticing that a few of his wounds from the previous battle had healed, he and Arion quickly consumed all of the remaining moss.

After noticing the entire exit to the cave was covered from floor to ceiling in glyphs of warding, Ziona, wishing to protect the safety of the party, summoned a creature to walk through the entrance of the cave to see if the glyphs were active.  They all waited and held their breath, but nothing happened.

Outside of the cave, it was evident to Holden, (with his acute tracking abilities), that there was normally a guard posted here.  His eyes followed a thin trail that led away from the cave and into an eerie forest of large trees and tangled vines.  “This can’t be good,” he thought.

The party quickly headed down the path toward a large river.  After about 30 minutes of traveling through the wilderness, they heard a voice call out.  “What in the Nine Hells are you doing?  If you go marching out there, the Cultists are going to kill you!  Come over here and we’ll talk”

Cautiously the party moved to the side of the path where they saw a small gnome.  After a short discussion that was near to an interrogation, the party learned that this gnome, Tarbash, and his cousin Robalend had been looting the city of Myth Drannor.  Robalend had been captured and now Tarbash was will to assist the party in storming the closest structure under the control of the cultists, the Tower of Bone.

Tarbash presented the party with identical half-cloaks to those worn by the Cult of the Dragon.  Tarbash also informed them that the Tower of Bone was once a necromancer structure that was constructed in the Polyandrium.  The Polyandrium was once the site of a great battle where elves, dwarves, and humans fought to protect Myth Drannor from an army of orcs.  The Polyandrium later became a large gravesite littered with crypts and frequented by rogue undead during the night.

The party made camp in the woods, deciding to stay, as far away from the Polyandrium as possible.  It was dark and cold, but they didn’t risk starting a fire.  Unfortunately, they were discovered even after all of their precautions.

Cultists had been sent on deeper patrols into the forest due to the wizard who returned to the Tower of Bone and spoke of a possible threat.  The cultists were not very concerned, but didn’t want to be chastised by their leaders within the ruins of Myth Drannor for being callous, either.  One such patrol happened to come across the heroes’ camp.

Arion and Borghin were on watch, and called out to wake up the others as they found themselves in a sudden onslaught.  Arion burst into a berserker rage and rushed by several of the well-armed cultists, (ignoring the few slashes that cut into his sides), and drove the whole of his blade through the necromancer that was leading the patrol.

The party slaughtered the cultist patrol and cut their night’s rest short.  They decided that they would return to the Tower of Bone in the disguise of the patrol that they had defeated.  They had done well against the Zhent citadel with a similar strategy, so the plan was decided.  Drexel tipped his hat of disguise and when he looked back up, he appeared exactly like a Cult of the Dragon necromancer.

------------------------------------------
Still more to come…
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## Xaltar (Jan 22, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 6, Part 5:  Rebirth...
-------------------------------------------

Spiderfang opens his eyes.

As if by reflex, his body jolts him to a sitting position.  What happened?  Where is he?  His vision is still blurry, but as the shapes around him come into view, he realizes where he is.  He is resting in a bed within the hideout of the cultists.  He begins to panic, but strong and firm arms pin him to the bed.

Spiderfang recognizes the voice of his master and relaxes.  As his vision fully returns he sees that two individuals accompany his master.  The first is woman dressed in ornate robes, adorned with numerous scroll cases.  The other is a man, a cleric of Lathander, the morning lord.

“We have brought you back from the dead young Tansooth.  You are brave yet foolish, and if we had not been following your party, then you would have lost your most valuable possession, your life.  Remember, you are now the TRUE Spiderfang, not I.”

Master continued, “Now listen carefully.  I have been following you since you returned to Ashabenford.  I needed to know that you will be safe, and will carry on the legend of the Spiderfang.  There is great evil that I must deal with, and the reality is that I’m not likely to return from my next adventure.”

Spiderfang stared up at his master sorrowfully.  He had not seen the man in months, and such a reunion was heart wrenching, not to mention how foolish he felt.

“Your friends need you, I’m afraid that you don’t have much time to spare.”

This broke Spiderfang out of his rut, and he jumped out of bed.  His master was right; his friends really did need him.  The four of them ran down stairs and the wizard threw the salt against the wall, activating the portal.

Spiderfang turned to hug his master with tears in his eyes.  He knew that he might never again see the man that was like a father to him and he didn’t want to let go.  As they separated, the Spiderfang master said, “Rebuild the order my young Tansooth!  I have faith in you,” as he flicked him a ring.

Spiderfang caught the ring in his left hand, and then almost dropped it as he came to the sudden realization that he once again had two hands.

With one last wave with his newly restored hand, Spiderfang left the shrine of Mystra and moved with great speed down the path.

------------------------------------------
Still more to come…
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## Xaltar (Jan 22, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 6, Part 6:  Playing the Part...
-------------------------------------------

Spiderfang ran with great speed down the path and managed to intersect the party just as they were coming out of the woods on their way to infiltrate the Tower of Bones.  They didn’t have much time to discuss what had happened, but Spiderfang was able to prove his identity, by whispering to Drexel that he knew of his true tiefling form, (which had only been shared with Tansooth and Ziona), and they all felt a great relief to have him back. 

The Tower of Bones was a magnificent structure of carved stone that resembled skeleton bones and gargoyles.  Surrounding the tower was the massive gravesite known as the Polyandrium.  The Polyandrium runs nearly 300 feet across and 100 feet wide, with trees lightly covering the area.

Before the party reached the tower’s entrance, they suddenly had doubts about being able to successfully bluff their way in with a dwarf, gnome, and air genasi in the party.  They agreed that Borghin and Tarbash, (the gnome that they met in the forest), were going to attempt to find another way to sneak into the building since they were both rogues.

The party unanimously voted that Arion was far too barbariac in his mannerisms to pass as a cultist, not to mention his unusual heritage.  So, it was agreed that he would wait in the nearby woods until the party was able to find his equipment and return it to him.

Being disguised the best, and having a way of working words much in a way a painter would paint a great portrait, Drexel took the lead.  They walked right up to the tower and barged through the front door.  “I must speak to the master immediately!”  Drexel demanded.

“Ryngoth is currently on the roof.  He is not to be interrupted,” answered one of the sentries.

“Well, I have news that can not wait!” retorted Drexel with such bearing confidence that the sentry began to stutter.

“Then Ggg gggooo saaa seee Rathh Rathwill upstairs.”  

The party marched up the stairs and didn’t look back.  When they reached the top of the next landing, they saw a small table and chair occupied by an unarmored man.  He was writing upon a scroll and was flanked by sentries.  This was Rathwill, and when they told him that they demanded to meet with Ryngoth, he was not happy.  Drexel’s silver lined tongue managed to keep the encounter from escalating into a battle, and finally Rathwill reluctantly let them pass, but told them that it was their own funeral.

The next floor had two very heavily armored warriors guarding the stairs to the roof.  The larger of the two men held out his hand in a warning position while his ally readied a sword.  “Praise to the dragons!  You are not permitted to enter this level of the Tower of Bones.  State your business here immediately or face punishment.”

“Stand down acolyte!  I have just arrived from the city of Myth Drannor with crucial information for Ryngoth.  If you stand in our path then I will have you fed to the dragons!”

Drexels response held such conviction that the guards looked at each other in doubt.  Then, much to their surprise, Drexel pushed them aside and walked by.  Most of the party was up the stairs before the guards could react.  By the time they regained their wits, they merely drew their swords and waited to assist the master of the Tower of Bones if the need should arise.

As Drexel first reached the roof, he could not tell if it was day or night due to the strange Myth Drannor sky.  Looking around he noticed an armored sentry standing guard in the center of the roof where an insane looking robed cultist stood next to a stone slab.  Upon the slab was a shackled and frightened-looking gnome.  Behind the slab were 8 freshly created zombies.  The demented looking man looked up at the party, his robes were adorned with mystical runes and symbols of dragons and death.  “It would seem that we have company!  While the Lord of the Forsaken Crypt does not mind your interruption, I think he would be better served if we added you to our collection.  Praise the dragon!”

Just about that time, Drexel saw Borghin and Tarbash climbing up the side of the tower.  While lobbing a burning flask, Tarbash yelled, “Praise this, you death-loving freak.”

Drexel cringed, as did Holden, who was peering around his side.  This didn’t look good, for their cover was completely blown.  Drawing their weapons, the heroes prepared for the worst as Ryngoth ordered his undead minions to attack.

------------------------------------------
Next Time: Will the party be able to force their way back out of the hostile tower unharmed?
-------------------------------------------


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## Xaltar (Jan 22, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 7, Part 1:  Fall of the Tower...
-------------------------------------------

While Ryngoth’s undead zombies and his loyal guard intercepted the party from reaching the necromantic priest, he cast a spell that sucked the life-force from all living creatures surrounding him.

The party suddenly felt weaker, and it was evident that the cultist guard was also affected, but most critically the shackled gnome slumped into unconsciousness.  There was no telling how much time they had before he passed.

Ziona, with righteous power, destroyed the zombies in the name of Eilistraee.  This allowed the party to assault the last remaining barrier between them and Ryngoth, which was the cultist sentry.  Ryngoth took this time to cast hold person on Holden, seriously limiting the combat power of the group, but they continued to fight on.

Only moments later, hordes of sentries and necromancers rushed up from the floors below.  The commotion had not gone unnoticed, and the encounter quickly escalated to a large-scale battle.  Drexel made great use of his energy transformation lightning to blast his enemies with balls and bolts of lightning.  When Holden finally broke free of the spell, he and Spiderfang together reached Ryngoth.  With a broad sweep of Holden’s greatsword, Ryngoth found himself sitting prone on the ground while Spiderfang leapt on him, delivering a flurry of attacks with his restored fists.  After he had delivered his final attack, he noticed that the foul necromancer would trouble them no further since his neck was now broken.

Meanwhile, Ziona had healed the captured gnome, while Borghin picked the lock and set him free.  Drexel and Robalend had been holding off the forces that dared to rush up the stairs towards them, but now that the head cultist in the Tower of Bones had been defeated, the party regrouped and began wadding down the stairs with renewed furry.

One by one the heroes tore through the seemingly endless force of cultists.  The cultists outnumbered the party, (nearly ten to one), and were completely surprised when nearly an hour later the group had completely slaughtered every remaining cultist within the Tower of Bones.

Emerging from the necromantic structure, suffering only minor injuries, the party beamed with success.  They met up with Arion and returned his equipment while their rescued gnomish friend, Tarbash, explained to the party about the cultists.  They were grave digging in the surrounding crypts for magical items and mystical keys, called rune talismans, that were used for opening sealed doors within the city of Myth Drannor.

The party figured that they needed to beat the cultists to the hidden treasures buried within the Polyandrium.  Although Arion couldn’t argue with the groups reasoning, it was against his beliefs and he informed the group that he could aid them on their next challenge.  However, he thanked the party graciously for returning his equipment and bade them farewell.

It was also decided that the party had grown to an unmanageable size and that they would split into two groups.  Borghin would lead the two gnomes on a reconnaissance while the others would explore the crypts.

The plan was in motion!

------------------------------------------
Next Time: The party grows!  Is that possible?
-------------------------------------------


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## Xaltar (Jan 22, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 8, Part 1:  The return of Hunter...
-------------------------------------------

Until they split however, they figured that they would need a safe place to rest and restore their spells.  The only (somewhat) safe place at the moment seemed to be the shrine to Mystra, where the party had first arrived through the portal.  

As the party was setting up camp for the night, four figures suddenly burst through the portal.  Everyone grabbed their weapons, only to see that leading this group was the one and only, Hunter VonLeer.  “Now this is no way to treat a VonLeer,” he said with a crooked smile, trying to hide his excitement to once again be back with the group.

Hunter quickly recapped the events that had transpired at the captured Zhent keep.  The Riders of Mistledale had sent a force of mercenaries to the keep to assist in its defense from Zhentish attacks.  The portals located within its walls were far too dangerous to fall into the wrong hands.   After several weeks, the Zhents had given up hope of regaining control of the keep, and the Hunter believed that the structure would be safe under the leadership of their gold dragon ally, Kurudava Khlorous.

Hunter then introduced his new allies.  “This is Runtel and Doctor Midnight, two very brave warriors who fought by my side back at the keep.”

Runtel was an Earth Genasi barbarian.  The last of a faulting nomadic tribe, he had set out into the world with little more then his lust for adventure and his golden crown.  He was determined to someday return to his people with an answer on how to sustain the tribe’s existence, and until he had that answer, he refused to go home.  Runtel’s skin was not unlike that of earthen clay, and his hairless head shinned under the light of the party’s torches.

Doctor Midnight’s flamboyance was magnified by the drabness of his barbarian partner.  Doc stood tall and wore a mask that left only his firm square jaw uncovered.  His wardrobe was that of a swashbuckler but his frame resembled an ox.  He swept off his hat with his right hand and with a short bow he said, “For justice.”

Spiderfang sneered, unsure if his sudden discomfort was from the presence of the new vigilante, or from the woman who was standing behind the men.  She was dressed all in black, wearing an outfit nearly identical to his own.  With a huff he asked, “A who is she?”

Before Hunter could answer, the woman stepped forward and dropped to one knee.  “I am Lia.  For the past year I have followed the rumors of the Spiderfang to a town called Ashabenford.  While there, I was able to find out that a man resembling the description of the Spiderfang had last been seen leaving with a well-known citizen, Hunter VonLeer.  When Hunter returned to town, I begged him to bring me to the REAL Spiderfang, so I may continue my training.  I offer you my undying allegiance if you will accept me as a student.”
Tansooth stood there motionless, unsure if he was ready to assume the responsibility; After all, he knew that the true Spiderfang master was still alive.  He suddenly had an idea.  He could act as her master until the true master had returned, and then he would surely train this young woman.  He had made up his mind, “It will be so.”

------------------------------------------
Still more to come…
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## Dr Midnight (Jan 22, 2002)

Oh, yes. 

The doctor's in. 

Doctor Midnight, crime-fighter extraordinaire, is finally revealed as being in-game for the first time in years. He's already proved himself with the Unusual Heroes in some tight spots, although he's not well-loved in the group. You'll read why. 

Feels so good to be wielding the rapier again.

EDIT: Forgot to say- awesome job, as always, Xaltar. I'm sorry I don't say it more often.


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## Wee Jas (Jan 22, 2002)

*nice!*

"Broke free"?!  Bah.. Drexel used his dispel magic to free our ever so skillful ranger/thief Holden!  As a shamless plug I also cast Haste on Tansooth..lol.

Great story Xaltar!  Doc Midnight is finally introduced into our little unusual band and now we make our way to some HUGE fights!


Drexel Doomhand
Lvl 5 mage/ 2 Air Elemental Savant


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## Dr Midnight (Jan 22, 2002)

The Black Fist of Justice. 
Stabbin' evil since 1998.


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## Dartan (Jan 22, 2002)

Since when did Zorro join the party??


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## Dr Midnight (Jan 22, 2002)

Dartan said:
			
		

> *Since when did Zorro join the party?? *




Since when did generic dwarf #56,738,295 join the party??


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## Wee Jas (Jan 22, 2002)

*generic dwarf*

Actually, it looks like we are starting the Forgotten Realms Iconics to me!

lol.


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## Dr Midnight (Jan 22, 2002)

The (recent) history of Dr. Midnight

The group of highwaymen sat around on the stone wall in the bright sun. They whittled at twigs and did their best to ignore their grumbling bellies. Derret looked to the scout in the trees above and signaled. The scout shook his head. Derret cursed and went back to whittling. He was making a very nice pointy stick. 

“What are we even doing here?” Thirghram asked. “There’s been no one worth robbing in two weeks. Nobody travels this road anymore! We should pack up and head elsewhere.” 

“Where, Thirgh?” Derret snapped. “Where would you like to go? What road in the Dales will you suggest that isn’t widely patrolled or claimed by another guild?” Thirghram looked away. “That’s what I thought. Things will pick up, people.  We just need to stay here and wait for the big score. It’s coming!”

At that moment, the sky opened above them. A tear in the fabric of space ripped wide. The thieves all looked up at it in surprise. From it could be heard the faint yet growing sound of a man yelling. The yell got louder, and a man dressed in black fell from the hole. The hole closed up, and the man yelled all the way to the ground, where he landed with a jarring thud. He rocketed to his feet, dusting off his fine and foppish garb. 

The man wore black leather gloves, a very dashing black shirt, tight black pants, black riding boots, a black cape, a black mask, and a black cavalier hat with a bright red feather tucked into the brim. A glinting silver-hilted rapier was at his belt. A tiny, well-groomed mustache lay over his upper lip. “Ahh,” he grinned. “That was most painful.”

The thieves cautiously stood and drew their daggers and crossbows. Derret licked his lips and looked the intruder over. He looked wealthy. In fact, he looked damned wealthy- like a successful adventurer. Derret slowly unsheathed his shortsword. “May I ask your name, sir?” he asked. 

“Well, that’s that for THIS wand of wonder,” the man in black said, absent-mindedly tossing the ornate wand over his shoulder. Derret gaped. A wand of wonder! Even one with no charges left could fetch a respectable price if the right enchantments could be made and the right sucker could be found. This man must be loaded!

“What is your name?” Derret asked. 

“Have you seen Roundie?” the man in black asked Derret, looking around himself. “Little guy, fights crime?”

“Hand over all your gold and valuables, and TELL ME your NAME!” Derret yelled, grinning. He and his companions closed in, surrounding the man with swords and daggers pointed towards him. The man looked at Derret and his eyes narrowed. 

With a flourish, the man drew his rapier and turned on his heel, spinning clockwise, holding his cape out with one hand. The rapier pointed downward, and as it spun, struck every blade around the man, forcing them all off-target. TING-TING-TANG-TING-TUNG-TING!!! The man then went into a dazzling display of swordplay and footwork, stabbing, slipping, cutting, and stepping. Men all around him fell. He cartwheeled out of the way of three thieves’ strikes, then killed them all through with one well-placed thrust, through their necks. “Hah HAHH!!” he yelled. Crossbow bolts flew, and the man backflipped and rolled to his feet, then knocked five bolts out of the air using his rapier in lightning succession. He spun and ran around the area, vaulting off trees and stumps, disarming and killing the crossbowmen with no real problem. 

Only Derret was left. He ran forward with his shortsword, hacking and cutting. The man in black blocked every blow with practiced ease, grinning a winsome smile.  “Who are you?!” Derret yelled furiously as he swung. He was losing badly, and he knew it. He had only one option against this skilled swordsman. “Wait, wait!” he said. He threw his shortsword at the man’s feet and held his hands up. The man looked disappointed. Derret said “I don’t think you’d kill an unarmed man, would you? Now, why don’t we discuss this? You’re obviously a very skilled fighter. You and me, we should team up! We could take the local nobles for all they’re worth! We could- huh?”

Derret stopped as the man slipped the toe of his boot under the shortsword and kicked it upward. Derret caught the sword without thinking, and gasped as the man stabbed him through the chest. “You want to know who I am, you slime?” the man hissed. “I’m Dr. Midnight.”

Derret slid off the rapier to the ground, dead.

Dr. Midnight wiped his blade, looked around, and shoved the rapier into its scabbard. He breathed deeply and took Faerun in for the first time. It was a nice place. 

“For Justice!” he said happily as he walked up the road.


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## Xaltar (Jan 23, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 8, Part 2:  Grave Robbing...
-------------------------------------------
Very early the following morning, Borghin and the two gnomes departed on a scouting mission.  It was up to them to identify the crypts that appeared to be the most lucrative, and to spy on the remaining cultist forces within the Polyandrium.  They were not planning on seeing the others for several days, and they exchanged somber goodbyes since this could very well be the last time that the saw each other.
Approximately two hours later, the rest of the party readied themselves.  The group now consisted of: Holden, the aloof and mysterious ranger, Hunter VonLeer, a powerful warrior of few words who is haunted daily by his cursed longsword that could only be relinquished when given as a family heirloom, Ziona, the soft and caring half-drow cleric of Eilistraee, Rossal, Ziona’s pseudodragon companion with a big sweet tooth, Tansooth, the young vigilante currently assuming the role of the master of the Spiderfang order, Lia, the new Spiderfang apprentice, Drexel, the tiefling wizard who’s innate SpellFire abilities attributed to his bloodline which could be traced back to Bane himself, Runtel, mighty barbarian and king of a dwindling Earth Genasi tribe, and finally Dr. Midnight, masked hero and skilled fighter from a far off land.  Together they were determined to spoil the Cult of the Dragon’s plans, and to find their way home from the demon infested city of Myth Drannor.
The first of the crypts that the party was to investigate was a small tomb with a finely carved rune of an intricate harp on the door.  A single sentry asked the party to state their business.  “We have been sent from the city to exhume this crypt,” Stated Drexel, but it didn’t come out as smoothly as his other bluffs.

Holden was quick to notice the guard’s facial expressions as his eyes squinted and his head cocked in disbelief.  The sentry took a step back but before his right hand reached the hilt of his sword, Holden drew his greatsword and plunged it to the hilt into the man’s chest.  Looking down on his slain foe, Holden saw that the man was heavily tattooed with images of undead monsters.  “I hope you like being a skeleton because I’m sure your scumbag friends will turn you into one!”

Nearby Drexel located a small box that contained a rune-talisman with the image of a harp, and a scroll containing the word, “sellatiell.”  Drexel held the stone to the rune on the door and commanded, “sellatiell” at the door.  When the door opened, there was a faint sound of joyful music emanating from within.  The thick walls were painted with a swirling design of musical notes.  Inside they found some finely crafted musical instruments, a book of elven songs, and instructions for crafting pipes of sounding.  Ziona claimed an exquisitely crafted lute since her goddess appreciates musical performances.

The next crypt was that of a wealthy elven noblewoman, but appeared to have already been looted by the cultists.  However, the cultists had left behind the rune to open the door.  This particular rune had a cat on it and the scroll accompanying the talisman contained the word, “haladrin.”
The heroes were somewhat disappointed with their findings at this point until they reached the next and much larger crypt.  The door to this tomb was sealed with the rune of the wolf and had a warning chalked across it in Common: “Dangerous!  Wait until Shamoor is available!”

Hunter rubbed his hands together excitedly, “Eeeh, this should be fun!”

The party entered the tomb and descended a flight of stairs.  After the staircase ended, the tunnel opened into a long rectangular chamber.  Six bronze statues of elven warriors stood at attention, three along each of the sidewalls and a continual flame burned above each.  Two places on the floor had substantially size scorch marks.  Ziona stepped forward and spoke, “Wait!  Before any of you risk your well being, let me summon a creature to tread across the length of this hallway.”

A celestial badger was summoned, and by Ziona’s command, it walked the length of the hall.  After no adverse events occurred, Drexel suggested that the badger touch one of the statues.  Suddenly there was a large lightning blast that shot from one of the statues and obliterated the creature.  As they all gagged on the smell of burning fur, Spiderfang spoke wryly, “I believe this goes against my resolution to NOT DIE!”

-------------------------------------------
Still more to come…
-------------------------------------------


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## Broccli_Head (Jan 23, 2002)

Are those mass combats that easy? I've lost track, who exactly is in the party now?


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## Xaltar (Jan 23, 2002)

Well, the battle with Ryngoth was a little tough, and there were a couple of dangerous battles in the tower, but for the most part, the party came, saw, and conquered. 

I'm trying to rush through the less interesting parts without leaving them out.  The party is leading up to some really interesting encounters that snowball until the finish of the module which happened last weekend.

At the latest point in the story, Hunter's player returned to the game and we were joined by a new player, who came in as Runtel, one of Hunter's friends from the keep.

In addition, Dr. Midnight came with Hunter as well.  Doc the player decided to play Dr. Midnight over Borghin who is falling to the side as an NPC.  

This also marked sixth level for several characters.  Spiderfang and Ziona both took the leadership feat.

Spiderfang is looking to restore the order of the Spiderfang, starting with his apprentice Lia.

Ziona took leadership since if Rossal is going to stay with the group, he really needs to advance to stay alive, and the two have really grown to like each other (a daily helping of honey coated cookies never hurt either!)

Rossal is a CR 1 creature, but really has two psuedodragon hit dice, and is now progressing as a rogue, enabling him to act as a scout for the party.  There is a really interesting encounter where Rossal gets to shine as well.

Coming soon the story will see some amazing use of Spell Fire and some downright brutal encounters.  The whole party get's to shine on various occasions so hang in there...

I'm trying to post about 1 update per night until I get caught up.

- Xaltar


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## Xaltar (Jan 23, 2002)

The party at this point is:

Hunter VonLeer - Human Fighter with a cursed magical sword (A VonLeer Heirloom)

Drexel Doomhammer - Tiefling Wizard with SpellFire

Ziona the Half-Drow - Cleric of Eilistraee

Runtel - Earth Genasi Barbarian

Holden - Human Ranger/Rogue

Doctor Midnight - Human Swashbuckling Fighter

Spiderfang aka Tansooth - Human Monk, last ordained member of the Spiderfang order (A vigilante like group)


Cohorts:

Lia - Human Monk, Spiderfang apprentice

Rossal - Psuedodragon Rogue


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## Wee Jas (Jan 23, 2002)

*who?*

Right now or at that time?

I don't wanna spoil anything.. but not everyone is around that should be.. lol.

That particular combat was pie compared to some of the stuff thats coming up very shortly! It used a bunch of our resources but we made it through.

*Holden*, the aloof and mysterious ranger

*Hunter VonLeer*, a powerful warrior of few words who is haunted daily by his cursed longsword that could only be relinquished when given as a family heirloom

*Ziona*, the soft and caring half-drow cleric of Eilistraee

*Rossal*, Ziona’s pseudodragon companion with a big sweet tooth

*Tansooth*, the young vigilante currently assuming the role of the master of the Spiderfang order

*Lia*, the new Spiderfang apprentice

*Drexel*, the tiefling wizard who’s innate SpellFire abilities attributed to his bloodline which could be traced back to Bane himself *(thas me right?!)*  lol

*Runtel*, mighty barbarian and king of a dwindling Earth Genasi tribe

*Dr. Midnight*, masked hero and skilled fighter from a far off land

2 of us are "gone" now.. but I'll hint no more!


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## Wee Jas (Jan 23, 2002)

Testing my Sig


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## Xaltar (Jan 24, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 8, Part 3:  Awakened...
-------------------------------------------
Growing tired of the useless banter, Runtel drew his sword and trudged down the steps across the hall to the far door.  “It’s safe already!”  Runtel called back to the party impatiently.

Drexel and Ziona turned to look at Hunter who had brought Runtel into the party.  Hunter, with a sideways smile responded, “What?  It’s not like everyone else in the party doesn’t have their quirks.”

Holden sighed after hearing the conversation and moved up to explore the far door before Runtel found a trap.  Meanwhile, Spiderfang checked out the door to the west that did not appear to be fully closed.  As he moved it open, he noticed that the passageway had collapsed some time long ago and there was nothing to be found there without months of excavation.

After Holden assured the party that the door was not trapped, the rest of the party moved up, making sure to avoid the statues.  Holden opened the door confidently and took a step forward into a small hallway.  The hall was covered from floor to ceiling with finely crafted tapestries of various scenes or portrait angles, all containing a stern blonde elven warrior wearing armor that resembled a wolf’s face.  However, a look of disgust formed on Holden’s face as he step on a pressure plate.  *CLICK*  An arrow shot him in the shoulder, but the damage to his body was minor compared to his damaged pride.  He turned and pushed the party back into the hallway, while he stabbed the pressure plate repeatedly as several more arrows stuck harmlessly into the wall.  “That should do it,” he said with a great matter-of-factness, and moved to search the next door.  “Figures, why else would you put such a small hallway in a crypt unless you were going to trap it?”

As the party moved forward through the next untrapped door, the hallway opened up into a wide room containing a coffin that was carved with many depictions of wolves hunting, running, and playing.  The party believed that they were bound to find some good treasure here, and figured that the lid to the coffin was undoubtedly trapped.  Holden informed the party that it was indeed trapped, but it didn’t look as if there was anything that they could do to deactivate it.  Hunter stepped up to the lid and said, “Everyone out of the room, this is a job for a VonLeer.”

More then happy to oblige, the party filed out of the room and let Hunter go to work.  His muscles flexed as he lifted the stone lid from the coffin.  As the seal was broken, he found himself being sprayed with a green gas.  He dropped the lid on the ground, (cracking it into several pieces), and charged out of the room.  After the coughing subsided, he told the party that he had been poisoned, but luckily Ziona’s healing prowess avoided the condition from worsening.

After the gas had cleared, the party returned to inspect the crypt.  The entire group was appalled after Ziona infomed them that there was no magic to be found on the elven body.  They search for nearly thirty minutes, but failed to find anything of reasonable value. 

“Something’s not right,” Spiderfang concluded.  “Why would someone go through this much effort to protect a tomb that has nothing in it?”

He charged back into the next room, and they all began searching the walls between the guardian statues.  They searched for hours, but the persistent monk wasn’t satisfied until every area of the hallway had been searched in great detail.  Finally, on the last segment of wall to be explored, Holden said, “I finally found it.”

Their spirits rose knowing that they hadn’t wasted the bulk of the day searching this tomb in vain.  The wall opened inward, and was not trapped.  Holden didn’t seem surprised since the door was already so well masked.  As they stepped inside, the room had an odd musky odor that seemed to be coming from six large vats of a thick dark brown liquid.  In the center of the room was an open sarcophagus, even more detailed then the last, containing a corpse that appeared to be well preserved and was covered by a gossamer sheet.  On the side of the stone slab was elven script reading: “Honored Kesefehon, great warrior, exemplar of his race, we shall never forget him.”

Under the sheet, the man’s details were vague, but they could tell that he was wearing breastplate armor and held a longsword to his chest.  Holden pulled the sheet off, revealing a body that appeared to be covered in open sores and wounds.  Surrounding the coffin, the party waited in anticipation for the body to stir, surely no good could come of this!

Several long minutes past without any signs of movement, so Holden gritted his teeth and grabbed the sword from the corpse’s hand, and the dead elf’s eyes opened, burning with the fire of undeath.

-------------------------------------------
Still more to come…
-------------------------------------------


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## Thorntangle (Jan 24, 2002)

Xaltar - Just had to say I'm really enjoying the story so far.  When are you going to update sessions 4.3-5.3 ?  I'd like to see how that Dungeon adventure ends for the Unusual Heroes.


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## Xaltar (Jan 24, 2002)

Well, I'm doing my best, but those files were at work and I quit my job.   

Now I'm waiting for the old boards to come back up and retrieve them.  If anyone else could find them in their cash...Most likely only Broc Head could do this, I would be eternally grateful.

Regardless, I'll keep working on it, and if need be, I'll just rewrite those parts.  Keep tuning in since there are about to be some really impressive battles.  In fact, two weren't suppossed to be fought by the heroes...but they did anyway.

BTW - Thanks for dropping by and even more thanks for posting!  Glad to see that people are out there.


Until next time,
- Xaltar


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## Dr Midnight (Jan 24, 2002)

I just want to point out that you haven't seen Dr. M doing much through this session because we aren't yet at the session where I showed up to play him. Ahem. 

Soon, though... I'll show that ________ who's boss.


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## Wee Jas (Jan 24, 2002)

With a little help of course


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## Ziona (Jan 25, 2002)

Dr Midnight said:
			
		

> *I'll show that ________ who's boss. *




Show him who's boss? You chaotic SOB! 
We got LUCKY...and as a team we defeated that __________!
YEEEAAAAHHHH!!!!


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## Wee Jas (Jan 26, 2002)

Game day!  Well.. very early game day.


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## Dr Midnight (Jan 26, 2002)

Ahh, yes...early game day. I like game days on Saturday, because I have all day to build up the excitement for it. 

I'm going to poke some evil things with a pointy evil thing-killer tonight. I'm going to make Faerun a better place. 

Now if I could only get these damned cursed bracers off...


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## Dr Midnight (Jan 27, 2002)

Last night's game was cool. Instead of slaying giant horrible creatures, this time I stretched Dr. M's roleplayin' legs. 

The one strike I did make against anyone, though... CRIT! Man I love my Dr. M D20. It doesn't fail me when an attack roll is needed.


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## Xaltar (Jan 27, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 8, Part 4:  Foreshadowing...
-------------------------------------------
The undead monster rose to its feet in a mindless rage and began attacking Holden.  Luckily, the party had already surrounded the sarcophagus and all began defending their ally at once.  Spiderfang, using his new ring of jumping that was given to him when he last encountered his master, lept into the lidless coffin, while crushing the mummy-like elf’s ribcage with his magically enhanced quarterstaff.  The monster barely flinched from the hit and continued to claw and bash Holden, the one who had taken his sword and was now using it against him.

After a few moments, Spiderfang had finally damaged the undead elf enough to sway its attention away from Holden.  Spiderfang couldn’t take as many hits as Holden could, but Spiderfang could not be diseased due to his acute physical discipline, acquired after years of training and focus.  The monster refused to rest, but was unable to defeat the mighty group of heroes that surrounded it.  Finally the scabbed elven cadaver slumped down into the coffin, never to stir again.

After they had defeated the crypt’s owner, the party thoroughly searched the room.  Ziona identified that both the breastplate with the detailed wolf’s head and the longsword were magical.  Meanwhile, Drexel examined the vats of gunk in greater detail.  He explained that they contained some sort of curative liquid, but before he could finish, Spiderfang thrust his injured hands into the sticky substance.

“You didn’t let me finish!  I think it was used on that elf’s open sores,” Drexel continued.

Tansooth pulled his hands out in disgust and began wiping them off on the Cult of the Dragon tunic that he was wearing over his Spiderfang suit.  “That was disgusting,” he exclaimed.

Before the party left, they let their new friend Runtel wear the breastplate with the image of a wolf carved on it.  They all agreed that it looked like a barbarian should wear it.  Holden then asked Doctor Midnight if he would like to use one of his magic longswords.  He replied with, “I’m afraid not ROUNDY, I prefer a weapon with greater finesse, the rapier.”

As the group began to ascend the stairs leading out of the crypt, Drexel quickly turned and said, “Wait my friends, I have an idea.”

With a look of determination in his eyes, Drexel walked back down the stairs and stood in front of the first guardian statue while the others watched.  He took in a deep breath and stood there for a second.  Then he pressed his hands against the metal statue, the same statue that had obliterated the summoned creature only a short time before.  Yet, nothing happened.  Moving to the next statue, the party watched with great anticipation.  As Drexel touched the second statue, there was a flash of lightning, but it appeared as if he had absorbed its energy.

“Drexel, do you require the healing touch of Eilistraee?”  Ziona called down to him.

Drexel turned back, his eyes now gleaming like they were flickering with raw electricity, “I am unharmed, there is no need for you to worry my friends.

When he returned to the group, he had drained the protective spells from each of the remaining guardian statues.  “I believe that these statues must recharge after some period of time, but they are safe for today.”

Runtel leaned over to Hunter VonLeer and asked, “What was the point in that?  I thought we were done here.”

“I really don’t know,” replied Hunter.

Then suddenly he received one of his reoccurring migraines as his sword shouted in his head, “HUNTER!  DoN’t EvEr SaY ThAt YoU dOn’T kNoW SoMeThInG aGaIn!  THAT IS A SIGN OF WEAKNESS.”

Hunter’s eyes watered a little, and he whispered, “Stop,” while grabbing his head.

The party looked at him with concern, yet upon seeing their expressions, Hunter let go of his head and with new determination moved forward, ignoring his friends.  “I am not weak!”

-------------------------------------------
Still more to come…
-------------------------------------------


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## Xaltar (Jan 28, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 8, Part 5: The Commander’s Tomb...
-------------------------------------------

The next tomb that the party explored appeared to have once had a great statue standing over the entrance.  However, now there were just large stones that resembled pieces of a horse and rider that littered the entrance and blocked the door to the crypt.  Without too much effort, the naturally stronger members of the party, (as well as those under the effects of a bull strength spell), were able to push a few of the larger stones aside in a inconspicuous manner.

Since the two empty cultist wagons had been left nearby, they knew that they had little time to explore this crypt.  Upon entering the crypt, they found a statue of a snarling lion’s head that had apparently been carved by an exquisite craftsman.

It was late and the group decided to spend the night in this antechamber.  They had little time, but the cultist’s grave digging slaves didn’t work through the night, so they should be safe.

In the morning after an uneventful night, the party was a well-rested bunch, ready for anything.  While the others packed up camp, Holden took his time searching the statue.  He noted that this statue had been poked and prodded in every crevice.  “Someone has been here before us, but it does not look recent.”

Although interesting information, it did the party little good at this point and they continued on to explore the remainder of the tomb.  Off of the antechamber were two rooms that were in great disarray.  The first was a storage room and the second was a library.  Although they both had been horribly ransacked, Drexel managed to locate a few books in better condition titled, “Defending Myth Drannor: Battles and Tactics.”

Moving down the corridor to the left of the antechamber, the party moved into a room containing six alcoves, and within each was resting a shattered skeleton.  As they looked around, Spiderfang shook his head, “This is too easy, something isn’t right.”

The floor of the connecting room was covered with the shattered remains of 2-foot-tall terracotta statues that appeared to have once resembled small elves carrying tiny spears.  In the center of the room was a pedestal that appeared to have once held some sort of bladed weapon.  “Nothing in here either, we are just wasting time,” exclaimed Runtel impatiently.

As they moved through the room, there was a hallway that led back across to the other side of the crypt.  At the midpoint, there were stairs that descended down.  Opposite the stairs going down was a painted image of a snarling lion, similar to the statue near the entrance.  Holden motioned for the party to hold up, and he began searching the wall.

As he reached his hand out to touch the relief of the painting, he found that his hand passed right through the wall.  With a single step he disappeared into the wall, and his friends quickly followed him, not wanting to separate the group.  Beyond the illusionary wall was a short corridor that was mostly blocked by the body of a long-dead gnome, impaled on a spear trap jutting up from the floor.  Holden ran, jumped, and tumbled by the exposed spear blade.  When he reached the other side, he was able to pull the pouches of loot from the dead thief’s body and a magnificent runed white gold ring on his right hand.  Holden then sundered the spear so that the rest of the party could pass without harm.

In the center of the room, past the trap and behind the illusionary wall, stood a glass pedestal emitting a jet of blue flame toward the ceiling.  Suspended in the center of the flame was a shining longsword, doubly bright as a result of the surrounding flame.  A quiet hum filled the air as the heroes entered the room, and they all felt as if some holy force was penetrating their souls.

Drexel walked forward and reached into the fire.  The fire burned him slightly, but his natural fire resistance as a tiefling prevented him from developing more then a few blisters.  As he drew the weapon from the fire, he knew that he was not meant to have it.  Even if he was skilled in the use of the longsword, traces of Bane’s bloodline flowed in his veins.  Drexel quickly handed the sword to Holden, whom was the only one that would currently be able to make use of the weapon.

As they moved on, they decided to follow the hallway around before exploring the lower level.  They thought that the crypt was laid out with great symmetry, and when they opened the next door, they weren’t surprised when they noticed hundreds of small terracotta statues begin to animate.  Drexel shouted, “We have no time for this nonsense!”

He called out a few magical incantations, and the room filled with a huge ball of lightning.  The statues were utterly annihilated before they had the chance to move.  While clapping his hands together as if he was ridding them of dust, he moved toward the only remaining intact structure in the room, another pedestal, only this one still held a weapon.  This sword was very unusual, and it didn’t look like it could be used to fight with at all.  The sword possessed several unusual groves up and down the side of the blade.  It appeared that the sword would break far too easily in combat.  Not wasting time to guess the logic behind the swords craftsmanship, the party moved to the next room.

As expected, the next room had six alcoves, each one containing an undead warrior.  The party had little difficulty in overcoming the threat using sheer force while Ziona held several at bay by the command of her goddess.  When they finished off the skeletal soldiers, the party located another runed white gold ring, and Drexel examined them.  Using his in-depth arcane knowledge, he determined that they were used to bypass some sort of guardian.  No one else seemed particularly concerned about the threat of more guardians, so Drexel decided to just wear both of them himself, for good measure.

Through the next door was the entrance.  They had gone in a complete circle, so they doubled back and went to explore the lower level.  As they neared the bottom of the stairs, they noticed that the place was flooded.  The water was nearly 3-feet-deep, with half-decayed bodies floating in the water.  To both the right and left were normal sized doors, and straight ahead was a door that appear to have no handle or hinges, and was flanked by huge statues; one an elven warrior, and the other a human.

Ziona found the sight of the bodies, the scent of decay, and the uncertainty of what was in the water to be more then she could bear.  She held her holy symbol up into the air, and upon harnessing the powers of Eilistraee, Ziona was able to lower the water until the ground was covered with little more then a puddle.

After the water had lowered, another body appeared, a dwarf, which was too stocky and heavy to float.  Hunter moved up cautiously to drag the bodies back to the stairs; all the while his eyes never left the statues.  Drexel decided that he would move up to inspect the door, hoping that the rings he was wearing would protect him from whatever harm had come to this previous band of adventures.

Seeing that Drexel had moved up without difficulty, Hunter, Runtel and Holden quickly joined him.  Meanwhile Spiderfang, Lia, and Dr. Midnight searched the room, and Ziona delivered a final blessing over the bodies while Rossal the pseudodragon aided by placing their valuables into a sack.

Holden found a slot on each side of the door, and somehow these slots must be used to lift the door straight up.  Drexel took out the notched longsword and found that it fit in perfectly.  “Now we just need one more,” he informed the party.

“Over here Drexel,” spoke Rossal directly into Drexel’s mind, (The whole party had become very used to their friend speaking to them telepathically).

As Drexel moved away to fetch the other sword, the statues suddenly began to animate, assuming more monstrous faces.  Holden and Hunter reeled in shock, but Drexel was able to jump back between them and the statues before the party underwent any serious misfortune.  Together, the three of them moved back away from the statues, and decided to explore the other rooms before proceeding forward.

Holden found that the door to the right was not trapped, so Hunter gave the door a good push and the door swung open and water rushed into the room, raising the overall water height back to about 1 foot deep.  Inside were 25-armed skeletal warriors that began to stir upon site of the living.  Before anyone else could draw their weapons, Drexel spout out the magical incantation that created yet another one of his devastating signature lightning balls.  Hunter grabbed the door and shut it as fragments of bone exploded against the wall.

The party opened the door to the right, and more water poured into the rooms, raising the main room by roughly half a foot.  Spiderfang waded into the room and stubbed his foot on a body that had apparently been swept off of its stone slab by the rising water table.  Disugusted, he turned around and shut the door on his way out.  During that time, the others had opened the door to the room with the obliterated skeletal warriors and had begun trudging up hundreds of pieces of jewelry that had been tossed around the room as a result of the lightning ball.  Spiderfang however refused to help, “I’m not sure if I condone this action.”

A short time later the party had scooped up several huge piles of muddy jewelry and were ready to move on.  They all moved up together to stay close to Drexel, and Runtel and Hunter used their great strength to push the swords up and into the slots, raising the door to the next room.

Inside the walls of the chamber were carved with the shapes of weapons and armor of many kinds and styles.  The motif was repeated on the slab that closed the rectangular stone sarcophagus in the center of the room.  Hunter moved up to lift the lid of the coffin, but with his great strength he literally threw the lid off and the party cringed as it smashed loudly when it hit the ground.

Inside was the body of one of the greatest protectors of the once great city Myth Drannor, Commander Lyssic.  Lyssic was a finely chiseled human man, dressed in gleaming masterwork chainmail.  Although he had been dead for several centuries, his body had no visible signs of decomposition.  Within the hands of the corpse was another rune, this one covered with several stars.  Holden grabbed a small pouch of silver, and made a swift switch with the rune of stars.  

The heroes waited for a few moments with weapons readied while waiting for the body to rise, although it never did.  While they had been waiting, Rossal had found a secret door leading out of the burial room.







-------------------------------------------
Next Time:  The Lich Wars Begin…
-------------------------------------------


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## Ziona (Jan 28, 2002)

Dr Midnight said:
			
		

> *Last night's game was cool. Instead of slaying giant horrible creatures, this time I stretched Dr. M's roleplayin' legs.
> *




Yeah, I felt the same about roleplaying on Saturday.  I thought  Varr did a great job as well.  Since Spiderfang & I did some chit-chatting with a certain somebody, we'll be able to jump into action again next week!


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## Dr Midnight (Jan 28, 2002)

Varr is awesome!! I love Varr. I'm pretty sure I could take that punk m.f. in a fight, too. 

"Varr!!!"

"Time to put you on ice." 

"Varrrrr!!!"


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## Wee Jas (Jan 28, 2002)

I wouldn't melee fight Varr.  He is too crazy.. lol.  I'd cast fly and hit him with spells from the air.. if I ran out before he ran out of hit points I'd fly away  

Either that or turn him into a little puppy.


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## Dartan (Jan 28, 2002)

"VARR!"  "In Coming!!" shouts some poor soul who's look up and see's Drexel dropping a Battle Rager upon them..."VARR!"


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## Wee Jas (Jan 28, 2002)

I just finished Starless Night.  A mage must travel through dangerous drow infested fighting to drop a fireball to collapse a passage on the darkskinned elves but has already used his dimension door spell.   A troop of Dwarven battleragers surround him and quickley escort him to the position killing more than a few enemies (almost a few allies who didnt leap out of the way quick enough!)

The mage thinks about creating the spell _Battlerager Escort_

I almost died laughing considering recent events..  Varr you gotta read this book!


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## Ziona (Jan 31, 2002)

Hey, hey, hey!
Don't give away too much...

Our lucky readers haven't gotten that far, gentlemen...


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## Dr Midnight (Jan 31, 2002)

Our readers are about three sessions behind...


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## Broccli_Head (Jan 31, 2002)

So in  your opinion is _Attack on Myth Drannor_ a good adventure? I have the original boxed set, _ Ruins of Myth Drannor_ and I remember that even the random encounters were scary with beholders, illithid, devils and phaerimm wandering around. The comments I have heard about AoMD is that it seems all these baddies are on holiday.


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## Xaltar (Feb 1, 2002)

I thought that it could have been tougher in spots, and that the core of the adventure only touches the surface, but my PC's got involved in two combats that they really shouldn't have, and I believe that made things a bit more interesting.

If you expand the activities of the characters while in the city, then it would make it much more involved.  I've been working on the next portion of the adventure, and it should give you a decent idea of something that can go wrong.

- Xaltar


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## Broccli_Head (Feb 1, 2002)

Ahhh, Xaltar, me likes the way you think!

Beholders, illithids and phaerimm, oh my! 
Looking forward to your modifications and the players screaming..."Hey, is that in the module?! I thought this was for 6th level PCs. That's broke!"

The last sentence is becoming one of my PCs favorite lines. 

"It's only a CR 10," says I. 
"That's broke!" says the PC after being trounced (He at ECL 8)


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## Wee Jas (Feb 1, 2002)

Our party is big.  We have 7 members.  So we romped the Pool with few losses.  I'm excite about the next module but there are cracks forming in our normally cohesive party!  

stay tuned!


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## Xaltar (Feb 2, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 9, Part 1:  Runtel’s Impatience...
-------------------------------------------

Emerging from the tomb, the party felt defeated.  They searched for some time for the command word to activate the rune of the stars.  After they gave up the search, they explored the secret passageway and found that it led to an abandoned barracks in Myth Drannor.  The heroes weren’t ready for that; they still needed to get into the Crypt of Orbakh so they headed back towards the Polyandrium.

As the party emerged from Commander Lyssic’s crypt, a little over a dozen cultists accosted them.  Two of them appeared to be wizards and one in particular was of arrogant bearing.  “Well, well, well…very nice of you to do our work for us.  The Wearers of the Purple will be very pleased with me.  You can just drop your weapons and hand over the rune of stars, or I will have to kill you.  At least this way you’ll be allowed to live.”

Drexel, wearing the best disguise in the party as a result of his magical hat, stepped forward and spoke in a commanding voice, “I am Shamoor!  You puny underlings dare impede our path?”

The fallen statue around the entrance provided good cover while Spiderfang drank a potion of invisibility and the others readied for a potential battle.  Although Drexel had used one of his signature bluffs, and even used the name of the cultist wizard scribed on the previous crypts, they didn’t seem to be falling for the ruse.

The wizard called out to his followers, “This man is not my brother, seize them!”

Before the head wizard was ever able to cast a spell, the invisible Spiderfang used his ring of jumping to clear the manifesting sword fight and cleanly landed a jump kick to the mage’s head, snapping his neck, and killing him instantly.  During that time, Drexel used a wand of magic missile to prevent the remaining wizard from casting, but not before the spell ‘slow’ had been cast on Hunter, forcing him to move at a snail’s pace.

Runtel, Hunter and Holden waded into combat while Ziona backed them up with a mixture of healing, offensive spells, and the blade of her bastard sword.  During the fight Lia got trapped away from the rest of the party and was trapped between two brutish cult members.  The masked Dr. Midnight tumbled past the other guards that were blocking his way and yelled, “I come to your aid milady,” as he charged one of her assailants with his magical rapier.

It wasn’t long before the heroes had laid waste to the force of cultists that had the audacity to battle them.  After they had finished the fight, they searched the leader and found two scrolls.  The first had a sketch of the rune of stars and the word “venik-rhaa” written underneath it.  The second was written in Common.



> Nevessam –
> 
> You must break the seal on the Crypt of Rothilion as soon as possible.  The Wearers of Purple grow anxious, and I have been told by Mordrayn that the phylactery has arrived for the contingent ceremony.  We shall soon have our hands on the items within the Crypt of Orbakh so we may include them in the immersion ritual.  Take care, little brother, that you acquire the rune of the sun soon or Mordrayn and Pelendralaar will be displeased.
> Oh, and I’m planning on putting a pox on that pet that Ryngoth treasures so much.
> ...




“Putting a pox on their allies pets?  Sounds like a great bunch of people,”  mused Drexel.

The party stripped down the rest of the bodies and left them for the rest of the cultists to find.  They then moved on to find the crypt of Rothilion, as mentioned in the note to Nevessam.  

Four broad stone steps leap up to a set of stone double doors sealed with a large sun-rune, marking the entrance to the crypt of Rothilion.  The masonry of the steps, door, and doorframe was all crafted of very high quality and carved with images of suns, books, fires, anvils, and scales.  As Drexel spoke the command words “venik-rhaa” while presenting the run of stars, a low rumbling noise emanating from the door quickly grew louder.  

A moment later, just before the unbearable noise of vibrating bones and stone became painful, the rumbling stopped, leaving the Polyandrium eerily quiet.  Suddenly the enormous doors swung outward with a thunderous crash.  A shining symbol appeared in the air between the doors, shaped like a dawning sun with light so bright it could almost burn.  

As the party walked into the massive hallway, Ziona translated the elven inscription, which ran nearly the entire length of the corridor.  “Here lies Rothilion the Honorable, Master Wizard and High Judge of Myth Drannor.  May all who seek it find his wisdom and kindness.  May all who would defile or destroy his legacy be cursed and face his wrath.”

The hallway opened up into a large room almost fifty feet long, and nearly as wide.  On each of the side walls were 10-foot-square alcoves, each cluttered with tools and some sort of display.  There were two doors at the far side of the chamber, both made of a heavy dark wood.

The first alcove contained a forge and an anvil, the second had two stone tables covered with uncut stones, the third had racks of stretched leather, and the last display tools for shaping bows and manufacturing arrows.  Each of the alcoves contained greatly deteriorated scrolls, and Drexel determined that the one in the smithy alcove could be useful in working with crafting leather goods.

The scroll would have turned to dust if touched, so Drexel had to be extremely careful when trying to move it around in order to read it in its entirety.  The process was taking a very long time and Runtel was growing extremely antsy.  Drexel turned to him and spoke with a biting tone, “I am trying to do this so that I may craft magical items for you and the rest of the party.  Now if you’ll please, I need several more minutes to copy this scroll in its entirety.”

Runtel turned, shook his head and replied, “You can sit here and read, and I’m ready for battle!”

He then headed directly for one of the doors on the other side of room and motioned to open it.  Holden balked, seeing his new friend about to open a door without first searching for traps.  “Runtel!  What are you doing?”

“I’ll tell you what I’m not doing, and that’s wasting any more time!”

Runtel barged through the door and the party stood there in a moment of awkwardness.  They had not known this man long, and no one could have possibly have anticipated the amount of trouble that he was about to cause them all.  As he moved beyond sight, only one other decided to follow him, and that was Dr. Midnight.

The party stood together and surrounded Drexel defensively with their weapons drawn, they were ready for whatever threat that their impatient allies were about to pull out of the depths of the crypt.  They were ready, but they were not happy.

Runtel and Dr. Midnight entered into a small maze of hallways that were covered with many fine works of art.  It had become evident that this crypt had been improperly sealed, and everything was now aging faster then it should have.  Yet, many of the paintings were still in remarkable shape and Dr. Midnight noted this.

As the relentless duo moved throughout the crypt they found a library and a room of records.  Runtel was fuming, he had stormed off looking for a good fight and all he could find were rooms of endless books.  There was only one door that remained unopened, and he hoped that there would something exciting to face in there.

Dr. Midnight and Runtel stood staring at the door, neither of them sure if they should open it.  Final Runtel swung it open, and within they saw nothing but a dimly lit room with obsidian walls and a coffin sitting in the center of the room.  Then suddenly, something began to stir from the behind the sarcophagus.  Dr. Midnight quickly grabbed the door handle and pulled the door shut.

“That thing looked like a man with an octopus head, and it was all dried up!”  Dr. Midnight said with near disgust.

*Knock* *Knock*
Whatever it was, it was at the door and it was playing with them.  Dr. Midnight thought of a quick game of his own that he could play.  He quickly grabbed one of the most life-like paintings and held it in front of the door while Runtel stood to the right of the door and pushed the door open.  Telepathically the monster shouted in both Runtel and Dr. Midnight’s minds, “LET ME OUT!”







-------------------------------------------
Still more to come…
-------------------------------------------


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## Wee Jas (Feb 2, 2002)

He is such a cute undead mind flayer!!  Aww.. let me pet him!


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## Wee Jas (Feb 4, 2002)

Xaltar and I did some crazy web design today.. So the story isn't going to be up anytime soon.  Check out www.livingfaerun.com over the next few weeks for some GREAT DnD tools!


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## Xaltar (Feb 6, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 9, Part 2:  Evil Cannot Escape...
-------------------------------------------

The creature was glowing with a green light, (the signs of being dimensionally bound to the crypt), and it was waving it’s arms furiously.  It had been trapped in this crypt for nearly a hundred years, and it was ready to be free.  The illithid lich, (known as an alhoon to the better versed in monster lore), wasn’t looking for a fight; it just wanted to find the fastest way out.

In front of it was a large painting blocking the hallway, and in the hallway to its left stood Runtel.  The illithid used its Mind Blast to overload Runtel’s mind, leaving him standing there stunned and stuttering.  Dr. Midnight hearing his friend call out it agony, drew his rapier and took a blind stab through the painting, piercing the monster’s side.

Runtel stood there unable pull his wits together to figure out what was happening to him, while the alhoon reached out and plane shifted Runtel out of its way.  Dr. Midnight came tearing through the painting only to see that Runtel was gone.  He rose his sword arm in great anger and stabbed the monster once again while yelling, “MONSTER!”

The others heard the commotion and came rushing in.  Ziona was the first to see the monster, and reeled in shock.  Her father had told her stories about illithids that had associated with the drow.  “This will not end well, this monster is a Mind Flayer,” she shouted in desperation.

Spiderfang moved closer, hoping to flank the monster with Dr. Midnight, but then the alhoon cast a spell… fireball.  Fire engulfed Ziona, Rossal, Spiderfang and Dr. Midnight.  Rossal only survived as a result of his innate magic resistance, but the others were all badly hurt from the blast.  Spiderfang slumped against the wall, barely conscious.  “How can we win?”  He asked in a whispered voice.

“LET ME OUT!  I WILL STOP IF YOU SET ME FREE,” the creature told them all telepathically.

The party stood there motionless, standing in the maze of small hallways that surrounded the creature.  They knew that the Mind Flayer had barely been touched, and most of the party was badly injured.  Drexel spoke for the others, “We will let you go, but leave this place and we never want to see you again!”

“AGREED”

Dr. Midnight wasn’t satisfied.  He moved forward and held his sword to the creature’s throat.  “Are you evil?”

The creature refused to answer Dr. Midnight and it turned to leave.  The group grimaced in pain as they saw Dr. Midnight draw back his weapon and stab the monster right in its throat, yelling, “For Justice!”

Seeing no other option, Drexel drew forth his inner power of SpellFire.  Channeling the power that he had stolen from the magically trapped statues, he let forth a powerful blast of magical flames that melted the cracked and dried skin of the beast.  As it fell to the ground, Dr. Midnight continued to stab the monster.

The party searched the tomb for the next two hours, trying to find where Runtel had gone.  They never found their friend, but they did find several interesting books on the topic of the Order of the Spiderfang Monks.  Once convinced that something far worse has befallen their friend, they agreed that there was little that they could do to help him now.  Ziona somberly said a prayer to Eilistraee to guide their friend home.

-------------------------------------------
Still more to come…
-------------------------------------------


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## Wee Jas (Feb 7, 2002)

Doc and I ripped that thing up!!  His magic die is a wizards best friend!


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## Dr Midnight (Feb 7, 2002)

I love my magic die. 

It's a d20 that rolls over 15 on almost every attack roll. 
I hold it "lucky side down" and wait until it feels "ripe", then roll it.

Sound stupid? It is. Does it work? All the freakin' time.


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## Marauder (Feb 8, 2002)

Pretty impressive stuff!

My group, who I am also running through this adventure, has just discovered the portal. I am seriously hoping that they don't take a leaf out Dr. M's book... TPK's kinda kill campaigns...

If you are crazy enough to throw down with an Alhoon, it makes me wonder if you guys actively sought the attentions of tha almighty Aglarach - or whatever its name is...


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## Crimson_Blade (Feb 8, 2002)

Dammit! Why can't I have a lucky die? My dice suck! Seriously, I cannot role above an 11 with a d20. Needless to say, I don't play melee characters anymore.


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## Xaltar (Feb 8, 2002)

I assure you, there are many more INTERESTING encounters to come.

In the meantime, you can check out the beginning of the character database at:

http://www.livingfaerun.com/heroes.asp

Most of the character information as of a week ago will be loaded in by Saturday afternoon.  Some characters have leveled since then.

Thanks for stopping by and reading my thread.

- Xaltar


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## Wee Jas (Feb 10, 2002)

Ug.. no game tonight kiddies.  Maybe Xaltar will catch up with the story now.. lol.

We ended up playing Warcraft 2 on the network.. should I write about that?!  It would be short.. Drexel plays.. Drexel CRUSHES.


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## Renshai (Feb 10, 2002)

Wow, this is the exact campaign I had created for players. Galath's Roost leading into Pools of Radiance and beyond... The whole thing ended when that water mephit killed the whole party.

That really sucked.

Ren


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## Xaltar (Feb 10, 2002)

> Very good ideas Xaltar. I've been working on the backend of my site for about a month. It is pretty expansive and covers alot of campaign material. It was, in a way, modeled after the Knights of the Silver Quill Homepage.
> 
> The campaign pages are going to have some really neat features. The session journal entries will have a function that will allow players to add their own comments so they can go back and look at their own notes in the future.
> 
> ...




Your plans sound very similar to my own.  I am also working on a Magic Item portion of the database that will have stats and the pictures of unique Magic Items gained in each adventure.  

It is also very amusing that you have run basically the same modules.  Our group spent a game session in the "Rage" from another Dungeon Magazine.  Since the completion of the Pool of Radiance, we have moved on to "Into the Dragon's Lair."  

Too bad it takes so long to document the game sessions.  Ren, do you have a storyhour for your campaign?  How about a sample of the site that your working on.  You could either post a link here, or email me at:  Xaltar@livingfaerun.com.

- Xaltar


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## Xaltar (Feb 10, 2002)

As for those who have been keeping up with the story... This adventure has a great ending that doesn't exactly adhere to the one in the module.  

My party was tough, I couldn't just let it end that easily!

- Xaltar


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## Renshai (Feb 10, 2002)

Well, the Dalelands Campaign didn't ever move forward... the Mephit ended all of that   But my Return to the Temple campaign is running strong. 

I am currently developing all of the backend for the site locally on my pc, so there isn't a url to speak of yet. I'll have something this week though, I'm sure. 


I haven't had time to do a story hour for the campaign, but I do hope to at least chronicle the sessions the way that Piratecat does his. I'll probably do a big summary of the previous games before I start entering individual journals.

Ren


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## Marauder (Feb 10, 2002)

Xaltar said:
			
		

> *As for those who have been keeping up with the story... This adventure has a great ending that doesn't exactly adhere to the one in the module.
> 
> My party was tough, I couldn't just let it end that easily!
> 
> - Xaltar *




I think I can see what's coming... if I'm right then you're an evil, evil man Xaltar!

Still, since SKR posted the stats, it really does seem a real shame to not even use them..!

Anyway, I'm keen to see how this adventure pans out! 
*prod*


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## Xaltar (Feb 11, 2002)

Hmm...could be.


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## Xaltar (Feb 11, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 9, Part 3:  Goodies and the Gift of Lathander...
-------------------------------------------

Now that the party had given up on the search for Runtel, they decided that it was time to explore the coffin in further detail.  The room containing the coffin had a high vaulted ceiling with walls made of black stone with threads of golden metal running through the stone like veins through a hand. 

The coffin was constructed of the same black and gold stone as the walls, and was located in the center of the room.  As the party approached, they were able to peer through its translucent crystal cover to witness a skeletonized form of a tall human holding a long staff and an ornate mahogany box.

Hunter stood forward, determined to throw this lid off just as he had in the last crypt.  Hunter grabbed the lid and heaved with all of his might.  He stopped quickly and held his hand to his back, grimacing to hide the sharp pain that he was experiencing.  “Err, that’s really heavy.”

He looked up in astonishment to see all of his friends gawking at him.  “Oh I’d like to see you try,” he retorted.

Then he realized that they weren’t mocking his weakness, but were staring at the glowing green aura that was now surrounding him, just as it had to the now deceased Mind Flayer Lich.  He pondered the implications of the green glow and shrugged.  “Nothing I can do about that now,” he said and began trying to pry the lid off the coffin.

Spiderfang was much more concerned about the possible long-term effects of the glowing aura, but noticed that his friend was suffering no immediate effects and Hunter really needed some help.  With their combined force, they were able to heave the lid off and retrieve the items inside.

The mahogany box contained a dark gray stone etched with a symbol of a sun, (the rune of the sun) and a scroll with a drawing of the same symbol and the word, “persetcher.”  The staff was finely crafted and carved with ornate runes, causing both Drexel and Spiderfang to lightly salivate with anticipation of what powers it might hold.

Drexel was quick to recommend that the party spend the night in the sealed crypt and identify some of the magical items that they had recently acquired.  The others, many of which were still recovering from the fireball, were happy to oblige.  The party had begun amassing a decent pile of items with unknown effects.

The next day was like a holiday.  New weapons were handed out and many interesting magical items had been identified.  Many even had powers that existed beyond Drexel’s arcane comprehension.  Drexel also found that one of the books that had detected magic from Rothilion’s library had done so because it had a magic page stuffed in the back cover.  The page in fact was the final missing page from the Testament of Jade that the party had recovered in Tower of Bone.  As Drexel inserted the final page, the book began to glow brightly and when the blinding light had passed the book was completely whole.

Drexel handed the book to Ziona, “I believe that this is meant for a cleric.”

Ziona peered down at the book in which she now held in her hands.  The Testament of Jade was a leather-bound book with pages 1 foot square.  Its fine green leather cover was encrusted with small pieces of jade.  The front was etched with the symbol of Lathander, and a green silk bookmark was sewn into the spine.  The book emanated a very faint glow, and appeared to be in such excellent shape that one would think that it was recently bound.







Ziona read many chapters in the book that day as Drexel continued to identify items.  The others were at first happy to see such a powerful item in the hands of their healer, but began to worry about Ziona’s bond with Eilistraee when she would periodically look up from the book and began reciting the words of Lathander.

“Strive always to aid, to foster new hope, new ideas, and new prosperity, of all humankind and allies.”

“Perfect thyself, guard ever against pride, for it is a sacred duty to foster new things, and work for rebirth and renewal.”

“Whenever possible, see each dawn.”

With the last passage of the day Rossal rolled his eyes in annoyance, as he lay curled up at Ziona’s feet.  Rossal hadn’t gotten a cookie all day; he had no sympathy for Lathander.  

-------------------------------------------
Still more to come…
-------------------------------------------


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## Wee Jas (Feb 11, 2002)

I got some great stuff there.  

Hammer +10 skill check when making bladed weapons
Tongs +10 to make metal armor
Knife +10 Boyer
Page +1 to leather working skill checks


Those items are really cool considering I'm going to start making magical items for the party in the future


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## Xaltar (Feb 12, 2002)

In fact, a few of Drexel's items are listed in the latest portion of the database.

The Living Faerun; Magic Items:

http://www.livingfaerun.com/magic_items.asp

- Xaltar


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## Little_Buddha (Feb 13, 2002)

<grins> I just started the story hour and I'm hooked, but unfortunately I've had to stop somewhere on page two - there's a bit of a run of missing sessions (marked "To Be Copied"). Is there anywhere I could find those?


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## Xaltar (Feb 13, 2002)

/mourns the loss of Sessions 4 and 5

They are still on the old board.  I was in the middle of copying my old posts and then they took it down.  There was a promise that it would be back in a day or two, but it has not returned.

I have searched for copies of those posts, but to this point have failed.  I now have a better system for backing my information up, but that doesn't really help me right now.

I will just have to sit down and rewrite them to the best of my ability this weekend.  I hope that you will check back by then.

Thanks,
Xaltar


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## Xaltar (Feb 14, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 10, Part 1:  “MY SWORD IS MY ANSWER”...
-------------------------------------------

Later that day, refreshed from the rest but still solemn over the loss of their friend, the party emerged from Rothlion’s Crypt expecting to find a horde of Cultists waiting for them.  As they opened the front double doors with their run of the stars, they found only several dozen dead bodies dressed in purple half-cloaks strewn about the stairs.  Over to one side were four figures sitting down debating who should get what loot.  

The first of the figures to notice the party stood to his full dwarfish height and greeted the group.  “Hey, about time you guys came out of that hole.”

“Borghin, how good it is to see you friend,” exclaimed Holden as he faked excitement to see their old companion.

“Err, whatever.  Anyway, me, Tarbash, and Robalend ran into this other guy who is trapped here,” Borghin said in his usual biting tone as he pointed to the tallest one among their group.

With a slight bow and a whisper of a voice, the cloaked man introduced himself as Horace Jadison.  He was an average looking human male who obviously followed a shady lifestyle.

“Well, the gnomes and I have decided to go ahead and get ourselves out of this stink’n pit, but this guy is determined to explore the inner parts of the city.  We figured that if yer all foolish enough to go through with this plan, then best of luck.  But we’re not gonna stick around any longer; there’s damn demons fly’n over that place.”

Tarbash stepped forward and thanked the heroes for all that they had done and told them that Horace knew the location of the final unopened crypt, the Crypt of Orbakh.  With a wave and a couple of moderately kind words, the gnomes and the bitter dwarf left the party’s company.

As the party began to cross the Polyandrium to the location of the remaining crypt, Holden made sure to watch their new ally closely.  Any friend of Borghin’s had to be no good, or so was his reasoning.

The Crypt of Orbakh was obviously that of a necromancer since the structure greatly resembled that of the Tower of Bones.  As Drexel held up the rune of the sun and spoke the command word, “persetcher”, the great stone slab that sealed the crypt fractured down the center and crumbled into a pile of rubble.  With the seal broken, the stench of several hundred years of death, rot, and waste billowed out into the open air.

The party, with several new members was having a very hard time getting organized.  After roughly ten minutes of arguing over how they were going to enter and search the crypt, Hunter took it upon himself to charge in with his sword drawn.  The others hadn’t even noticed that their friend was missing until they heard a big grunt, and the loud clang of metal coming from the bottom of the stairs.

“Trap here,” yelled Hunter from the darkness below.

The party ran downstairs to see that Hunter had managed to leap over a pit trap at the bottom of the stairs.  While the party was working to cross the pit, Hunter opened the closest door down the hallway to the right of the stairs.  By the time the others had crossed the hole in the floor, Hunter had already dispatched a small pack of Krenshars (wild dog like creatures that pull the skin back off of their face, scaring the life out of average folk).  Yet, Hunter had encountered this type of creature back at Galath’s Roost, and his sword hand didn’t falter as he cleaved into the beasts.

Holden quickly dispatched a few more of the beasts with a few swift stabs with his great sword.  Once he had finished, the party briefly discussed why such creatures would inhabit a magically sealed crypt.  They thought that a necromancer’s tomb was more likely to have undead guardians than wild dogs.

After their discussion, Hunter opened the center door opposite of the stairs, revealing several large dire apes that had made the dungeon room into their den.  Doc led the charge appeared as the group went after the apes.  Moments later however, Hunter’s blade is knocked back by one of the flailing beasts, and he pierced himself deeply through the right shoulder.  To make matters worse, Hunter’s cursed sword of the VonLeer family was infuriated at this show of inaptitude.  In fact so loudly the sword was so enraged that it began to telepathically scream within Hunter’s head that his eye sockets began to bleed.  The sword was well aware that if Hunter wasn’t strong enough to take the punishment, that there were plenty more VonLeers to inherit it.

As the far door opened to reveal the remainder of the extended ape family, (all of which appeared to all be identical), the party’s spirit was beginning to waiver.  Ziona managed to save the lives of both Hunter and Horace by aptly maneuvering her nimble body through the melee combat and administering her healing touch; the combination of skilled righteousness and divine power.  Meanwhile, Drexel cleaned up the mess of remaining monsters by throwing up a powerful wall of lightning that drove the one surviving assailant, (a bald and naked man who had been dragging a dead cow to the apes), down the hall.   The heroes heard him splash into water at the far end of the hall.

The party moved down the hallway towards a small set of stairs leading roughly 5 feet down into the dimly lit room.  The room was full of muddy liquid that had apparently been caused by the rising water table.  Before they reached the stairs however, Holden and Hunter stopped at a room that was blocked by several large rocks.  

Hunter, notorious for taking advantage of times such as this to display his awesome strength, began to push the boulder aside.  Drexel and Spiderfang kept watch down the hall, but nothing came as Holden carefully inspected the door for traps.  When he had determined that the door appeared to be safe, he waved his hand and Hunter swung the door open with such force that it almost ripped from its hinges.

The room was filled with dirt and when the door was opened, the party only saw three large mounds of earth.  When Holden began to cross the threshold of the door, pale and bony arms sprung forth as they began to rip their undead corpses free of the earth.  However, before they ever had a chance to accost the group, Ziona stood into the doorway, her eyes glowing with the frightful conviction of her drow heritage, and demanded, “I banish you in the name of Eilistraee, from the realm of the living races, of whom will someday know a peace that you will never find.”

The three wights crumbled to dust before Ziona’s power and the conviction of her goddess.  With the stench of undeath still strong in the immediate area, the others were more than happy to move on down the hallway towards the water filled room.

Hunter led the charge as usual, managing once again to set off another pit trap without falling victim to the spikes below.  Within the room, lit by continual flame torches that emitted a sinister light, was murky water that covered almost the entire room.  There was a dais on the far end of the room that held a large stone sarcophagus, carved with symbols of death, magic, and bones.

Resting half-submerged in front of the dais was a rubbery sphere at least 10 feet across.  One of its tentacle-arms had many suckers that it slapped the water with, while other long narrow necks capped with eyeless jaws snapped at the air.  A pair of small eyes on stalks protruded from another portion of the creature.  The most bizarre and disconcerting part of this scene was the naked man held by one of its suckered arms.

As the man caressed the surface of the sphere idly while it held him in place, he spoke with words that did not match the movements of his mouth, “I am Famras, child and parent of Beautiful Flower.  She asks what you are doing here in her domain, and what you want.  I will not allow you to harm her.”

Hunter moved forward slowly as if moving in to speak with the man, but didn’t say a word.  Famras, staring at Hunter with eyes that could pierce flesh asked again, this time more forcefully, “What is your answer?”

Hunter, with a near evil grin, plunged his sword forth into the body of the beast and yelled, “MY SWORD IS MY ANSWER!”  

-------------------------------------------
Still more to come…
-------------------------------------------


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## Little_Buddha (Feb 14, 2002)

Xaltar said:
			
		

> */mourns the loss of Sessions 4 and 5
> 
> I will just have to sit down and rewrite them to the best of my ability this weekend.  I hope that you will check back by then.
> 
> ...




<lol> I'm not very patient, so after a day or so I just kept reading. The story is a little disjointed (I lost track of a couple of players and soforth) but still fascinating. Well written and interesting campaign, IMHO. Congrats! 

If you can't be bothered rewriting, you could just provide skeletal outline of plot (a couple of players switched characters, AFAICT).


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## Wee Jas (Feb 17, 2002)

Gameday is moved to Sunday from this point on.

When are the old boards coming up?!


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## Dr Midnight (Feb 18, 2002)

Fun game tonight... after all the Drexel stuff, of course COUGH COUGH 



Dr. Midnight's magical d20 cannot be stopped. 

So what's the illithid body count at right now for this party?


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## Wee Jas (Feb 18, 2002)

Oh sure,  blame me for you not having Darkvision!  

We all know Doc thinks with his rapier anyway.. ( I would too if I had a lucky die) but seriously not one "For Justice!" tonight!  ..lol.


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## Dartan (Feb 18, 2002)

Well i've learned from last night session that you don't hack down your allies in front of your party members they may get mad..


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## Ziona (Feb 18, 2002)

Well, Varr, you simply _must_ think more with that brain of yours, and less with your axe!   

Seriously though, our little group has seen some deadly foes thus far, and have come away from it (mostly) unscathed. 
Blessed Eilistraee watches over us!


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## Xaltar (Feb 18, 2002)

Wow, posts from the majority of the group today.  Now that's something that you don't see most of the time!

- Xaltar


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## Jettok (Feb 18, 2002)

100th Reply 

Just wanted to post. Spiderfang is still alive and well.


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## Ziona (Feb 19, 2002)

Aaah, Spiderfang claims the 100th post!

Nice to see we're ALL alive & well, with posts to prove it!!


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## Xaltar (Feb 20, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 10, Part 2:  The Vow…
-------------------------------------------

Hunter continued to hack at the massive creature while the others moved into position.  Ziona, fearful that the beast was going to attempt to drown her allies, quickly cast control water, lowering the room’s water level to little over an inch deep.  The lowering of the water turned out to be a major asset to the party and a great annoyance to the Deep Spawn known as “Beautiful Flower.”







Now that it had been denied it’s cover from attacks under the dark and murky water, the beast had no intention of negotiating with the heroes.  Before the others could react, the Deep Spawn reached out with one of its tentacles and used its powers to magically hold Hunter in place.  Only moments later, Spiderfang performed one of his patented, and very risky, charges.  He leapt over the massive creature and landed on its backside, allowing the party to use advanced melee tactics.

The battle quickly accelerated when the others joined in the fray.  The monster continued to strangle the helpless Hunter while it beat on Horace and Spiderfang and bit chunks out of Doc Midnight and Holden.  Meanwhile, Drexel continued to plug the bald man with magic missles from one of his pilfered cultist wands.  Ziona struck the Deep Spawn with a ray of piercing light, but the creature completely resisted the spell’s effect.

Shortly after the first of “Beautiful Flower’s” caretakers perished from the onslaught of Drexel’s spell power, several other identical twins of the man appeared at the end of the hall.  Several of the previously escaped Dire Apes and some undead accompanied them.  Drexel realized that with the others preoccupied fighting in melee combat with the Deep Spawn, which had just naturally healed itself back to full life, that he and Rossal were alone in the corridor with a small army of assailants.

“Rossal, fly to Ziona,” Drexel yelled.

Rossal was torn apart inside.  He didn’t want to leave his friend to face the threat alone, but both knew that there was little that the pseudodragon could due to help at this point.  Reluctantly, young Rossal flew towards his master, Ziona.  Once it was clear that Rossal was safely out of harms way, Drexel sent a split lightning bolt down the remaining length of the corridor.  He closed his eyes after the sparks exploded from his fingertips because he was sure he was only moments away from being cut down by the rushing force.  Moments later, after no weapon tore through his unprotected flesh, he opened his eyes to see that he had obliterated the opposition.  When Drexel turned to check on the status of the party, he witnessed Ziona deliver the killing blow to the Deep Spawn with a powerful cleave from her bastard sword.

The familiar telepathic voice of Rossal, cheered in all of their heads like he was the party’s mascot, “Yippee! We did it!”

After the monster had been defeated, Holden and Horace searched the area of the defiled sarcophagus of Orbakh while Ziona healed the other injured party members.  The group found several curious magical items and the empty phylactery that marked Orbakh’s failed progression into lichdom.

Only moments after Drexel had handled the Ivory Scepter of Orbakh, there was a distortion in the air of the chamber, that preceded the appearance of a semitransparent image of a tall, impressive-looking elf with shriveled skin and glowing white eyes.  






The elf raised his hands in a gesture of peace and spoke the following:

“I mean you no harm.  I am Molostroi, a baelnonrn, undead guardian of this once great city.  I send this image to you now because you have touched Orbakh’s Ivory Scepter, an evil item of power buried long ago in this crypt.  I am not here to warn you of its use or to coerce you to leave it in place, but to ask you for help.

“The Cult of the Dragon has discovered a pool of radiance in Myth Drannor and used the power of the pool to corrupt the city’s mythal.  Their ultimate goal is to immerse the dracolich Pelendralaar in the pool, magnifying his dread powers a hundredfold and allowing him to take control of the mythal, bending it to his own ends and unleashing a flood of evil upon Faerun.

“The Cult is working with magic it does not quite understand, and is gambling that the immersion of the dracolich will not destroy him.  They are hedging their bets by bringing Pelendralaar’s phylactery here and storing a fresh reptilian corpse nearby so if the dracolich is killed by the pool, he can transfer his essence to the phylactery, possess the dead reptile, and immediately try again.

“Another of my kind is in contact with another group that has already reached the inner ruins of the city.  They have agreed to battle the most powerful forces of the Cult, including the dracolich, but if they slay Pelendralaar he will only be forced to his phylactery – a temporary victory at best.  However, the item you have found here can be used to destroy the phylactery, making the dracolich’s death permanent.  This form is only an image, and I cannot move objects.  I need you to bring the scepter into the ruins of Myth Drannor and aid the attack against the Cult so that the mythal may be saved and repaired.  It is dangerous, but I know secret paths.  Will you aid me?”

In answer to the Elven lich’s question, Drexel looked down at the pile of treasure that had been looted from Orbakh’s crypt.  He picked up one of eight sliver rings engraved with a skull insignia.  After he slipped the ring on his finger and held his fist forward he valiantly proclaimed, “I vow to stop the Cult of the Dragon at any cost!”

Holden followed suit, slipped another of the rings on, and pressed his fist to Drexel’s.  “As do I,” he announced with feeling that came straight from his core of his being.

Ziona, (with Rossal atop her shoulder), Spiderfang, Hunter, Horace, Lia, and Doctor Midnight picked up the remaining rings and formed a circle.  Once again they spoke, this time as a group, “WE WILL stop the Cult of the Dragon at any cost!”

-------------------------------------------
Next Time:  The Lich Wars Continue…
-------------------------------------------


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## Wee Jas (Feb 20, 2002)

Bravo!


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## Ziona (Feb 21, 2002)

*Naked Man*

Is it just me, or does that naked guy on the slimy monster *really*  creep you out?!?!


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## Marauder (Feb 21, 2002)

He actually bears a disturbingly uncanny resemblance to Sean K Reynolds, the module's author...


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## Dr Midnight (Feb 21, 2002)

Marauder said:
			
		

> *He actually bears a disturbingly uncanny resemblance to Sean K Reynolds, the module's author... *




No no, we're talking about the man, not the slimy monster.


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## madriel (Feb 21, 2002)

*Re: Naked Man*



			
				Ziona said:
			
		

> *Is it just me, or does that naked guy on the slimy monster really  creep you out?!?! *




Me too 

Aside from that, love the story hour.


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## Mialee (Feb 22, 2002)

What's going on with you guys? You're falling off the map. Here's a bump for you to take and be bumped with.


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## Xaltar (Feb 23, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 11, Part 1:  Into Myth Drannor…
-------------------------------------------

The party had agreed to work with the Baelnorn, and it had informed them that it would contact them once again with more detailed instruction from within the city walls of Myth Drannor.  The heroes left the Crypt of Orbakh and spent the night once again in the hidden passageway that led from the Polyandrium to the barracks in the city.

The next morning the group woke refreshed and entered into Myth Drannor proper.  They arrived in what had once been the main barracks, but was now nothing more than another looted and vandalized building.  It was evident that this place had been well searched and not a valuable item remained within its walls.

The party cautiously moved out in to the sunlit street.  They attempted to move stealthily to a degree as to not be noticed by the winged demons that were circling in the air above.  The heroes were traveling under the guise of cultists, but they were still looking to avoid attention.  Drexel was using his hat of disguise to appear as Nevessam, the wizard that they had recently killed, who was known to be the brother of Shamoor.

The sites of the city were disturbing and sad as once great and marvelous buildings now laid in ruin.  As the party moved closer to the Castle Cormanthor, they came across a large building that still remained somewhat intact, which was a rare site for a structure of this magnitude.

The heroes moved in to explore and noticed that there was a small handful of cultists at the other end of the building searching the wall in depth.  Holden, Ziona, and Lia took the leader of the bunch by surprise as they pelted him with missile fire, felling him before he could even react.

The cultist fighters stood at the ready, unsure what to do with their leader dead, and the attackers appeared to be fellow members of the Cult of the Dragon.  Drexel approached them, armed only with the claws that were commonly worn by the cultist spellcasters.  In a bold and now well practiced voice, he said, “Your leader has been executed for acts of treason against the Wearers of Purple.  If you do not surrender now, you will suffer his fate.”

Astonished by the accusations, the warriors looked perplexed, yet they could not deny that their leader had just been killed before their eyes.  Reluctantly they dropped their weapons and surrendered.  Holden moved up to bind their hands and Drexel demanded that they close their eyes.  With a quick flick of his tail, Rossal lightly scratched both men across the.  Both men fell to the ground as the pseudodragon’s sleep poison overcame their immune systems.  The party waited a few minutes to see if either of the men were strong enough to fight off the effects, yet neither awoke.  

“They’ll be out for a few days.  Now won’t THEY be in for a surprise,” claimed Ziona with a half grin on her face.

Holden explored the wall in greater detail but could find nothing.  Drexel had aided his friend’s search by casting detect magic.  Although the entire building showed signs of residual spells, nothing appeared to be currently radiating magic.  Content that they were not likely to find anything here, the party continued to explore the city of Myth Drannor.

-------------------------------------------
Still more to come…
-------------------------------------------


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## Xaltar (Feb 24, 2002)

-------------------------------------------
Session 11, Part 2:  The Baelnorn’s Plan…
-------------------------------------------

The next building that the heroes came upon appeared to be a prisoner’s area.  They all quickly ducked into an alleyway.  Hunter and Holden each took the sleeping cultists that they carried over their shoulders and dressed them with their own adventuring clothes.  

The party then rounded the corner once again and directly approached the guards.  Drexel moved to the front of the group while Holden dragged the two-drugged men behind them.  “More prisoners here,” Drexel called out, “These are the guys that killed several of the patrols out in the Polyandrium.”

The guards moved forward to inspect the so-called prisoners.  After noticing that the so-called prisoners were sleeping, the head guard delivered a full force punch to one of the downed men.  “They’re out cold,” Drexel confirmed to the two guards.

Horace moved up and chimed in agreement, “yeah,” as he kicked one of the limp bodies with full force.

“What happened to them,” the lead guard asked with a penetrating glance and an air of suspicion.

Holden feared that they must have done something wrong and nervously attempted to rectify the situation.  “Uh, well you see, they began shooting fire at us and then there were the undead monsters.  Did I mention that there was an undead mindflayer?  Or the elven lich?  Uh, these guys were really evil, um, I mean good…”

“What is wrong with you man?  Have you gone mad,” the second guard asked in a perplexed manner.

Drexel answered the question with his modified version of lightning hands.  A battle broke out, but the heroes quickly squelched their resistance, and dragged the bodies inside.  After they had entered the privacy of the building, Drexel used his hat of disguise to assume the image of the guard captain.

Ziona exclaimed, “That never gets old!”

Once inside, the image of the baelnorn, the elven lich, appeared before them once again.  “You are right across the way from Castle Cormanthor.  Beneath the citadel, below the underground levels of the castle, is the chamber that holds the pool of radiance and Pelendralaar’s phylactery.  You need to enter the castle, make your way down to the pool chamber, and destroy the phylactery with Orbakh’s Ivory Scepter.  I don’t believe that you can fight the Cult’s forces here straight on, as they are too many and you are far too few, despite your certain bravery.  You will need to use stealth and trickery to avoid a pointless and suicidal battle.  I can help you with magic and information.
“Just to the northwest of the castle on the other side of Dragoneyes Street is small plot of land that appears to be nothing more than a pile of Sehanine Moonbow, elf goddess of the moon and dreams, guarded by illusions and spells that ward away evil creatures and undead.  If you walk into that area and attempt to see past the illusion, you should be able to discern the shape of the temple and rest there – it is a much safer place than this.  Also, next to the temple is a man-sized patch of blueglow moss, a benign plant that heals those who sleep or rest upon it.  Should you need to rest and recuperate before you enter the castle, that is the place to do it.”

The party moved through the streets confidently under the guise of cultists and was unsuspected as they past several other groups that were roaming the streets.  They came to the hidden temple and Rossal guided them all through the illusions.  The party took the time to rest and prepare spells that would aid them now that they had a better understanding of the task at hand.

In the morning, the baelnorn appeared once again and discussed tactics and information for roughly an hour.  He also offered to assist the party with a number of spells that he had available.  The most crucial to the heroes’ plans was invisibility sphere (which would be cast on Rossal, who could then communicate with the group telepathically and utilize his abilities to see invisible).  Fly spells were also given to the party members whose armor made a great deal of noise when they walked.

Ready for anything, the party grouped together at the exit of the temple.  Ziona paused briefly and began praying to her goddess.  Each of the others bowed their heads and said prayers to their patron deities.  The only exception was Holden who merely stood silently staring out of the illusionary wall at Castle Cormanthor.

No words were spoken, but Drexel once again held out his fist bearing the skull ring.  The others moved in to from a complete circle.  Rossal flew into the center and pressed his small dragon-like claw against the pile of fists.  The baelnron teleprojection cast the invisibility sphere on Rossal and the party disappeared from sight.

-------------------------------------------
Still more to come…
-------------------------------------------


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## Ziona (Feb 25, 2002)

*Tonight...WOW!*

heal,
Heal,
*HEAL!* 

Wow, what a night! Foe after foe after foe...whew!

Wonder how Doc is feeling... LOL  

This was a GREAT session! Dangerous, fun-filled, edge-of-your-seat excitement! YEEEEAAAAHHHHHHH!!!


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## Dr Midnight (Feb 25, 2002)

I can't believe I led an easy assault on an undead mind flayer, then was reduced to the quivering mass I was tonight. 

MY MAGIC D20 LET ME DOWN!

I was taken to -10 hps TWICE. A hair's breadth from death. 
Not to mention -4 hps once. 

Oh, sweet lordy, how it sucks to dash into an attack to finish off some scum and you fumble the roll so badly that the PUNK gets an ATTACK OF OPPORTUNITY on you that CRITS!!! 

60 FRICKIN' POINTS, POOF, GONE- RIGHT THERE- ON MY TURN.

It hurt to be the black fist of justice tonight... but I feel that I served my comrades well as the distractive punching bag.

Very fun session.


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## Wee Jas (Feb 25, 2002)

Great stuff tonight!  Props to Doc Midnight who did a great job serving as our meat shield!  Is Doc a Jack in the Box?  Up.. down.. up.. down.. up.. down.. up...

/Drexel gets dizzy.

Can't wait till you guys read what happened next!


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## Phorck (Feb 27, 2002)

*bump*

Great story so far, I can't wait to read the next installment.


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## madriel (Feb 27, 2002)

Wee Jas said:
			
		

> *Great stuff tonight!  Props to Doc Midnight who did a great job serving as our meat shield!  Is Doc a Jack in the Box?  Up.. down.. up.. down.. up.. down.. up...
> 
> /Drexel gets dizzy.
> 
> Can't wait till you guys read what happened next! *




Gee, that sounds like our party's wizard the last few sessions back in January.  Now he just spends his days polymorphed in a pixie because that way the bad guys can't hit him so easily...

Can you say area effect spell?


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## Wee Jas (Feb 28, 2002)

bah, our Wizzie (moi) has an 18 con.. woot!  Too bad my AC is 13 but our group never lets the bad guys touch me.. well unless you count the troll last session


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## madriel (Feb 28, 2002)

Wee Jas said:
			
		

> *bah, our Wizzie (moi) has an 18 con.. woot!  Too bad my AC is 13 but our group never lets the bad guys touch me.. well unless you count the troll last session   *




Our wizzie has a very fine dwarven constitution I'll have you know.

Mind you, staying out of melee helps.  And refraining from bragging to the cleric in the DM's hearing that you came through yet another battle without a scratch helps too.


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## Little_Buddha (Mar 2, 2002)

*bumps in the hope of an update*


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## Broccli_Head (Mar 2, 2002)

Caught up wit yous! Now I am jonesing for an update since you have promised lots of hurt on friend and foe alike. Hurry it up!


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## Wee Jas (Mar 2, 2002)

Lots of changes in the world if the UH and the KoTSQ this week.

I will be taking over the DMing for the Unusual Heroes.  Xaltar needs a break.. so Drexel and Spiderfang are out and 2 new characters will come in.   Ziona is going to take over writing the tale with input from moi.

So be prepared as the NEW group starts thier ...

DECENT to the DEPTHS of the EARTH!


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## Dr Midnight (Mar 2, 2002)

NICE!!!! 

Classic module time!


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## Blood Jester (Mar 3, 2002)

*Crossover*

Since I'm losing your team's other story, I'll be keeping a close eye on this one!  Good luck to the new DMs.


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## Dartan (Mar 4, 2002)

First night with Wee Jas as dm was alot of fun...Two new characters join which should be interesting and oh yeah Doc Midnight almost dies again, seems to be  his theme....Props to Wee Jas


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## Wee Jas (Mar 4, 2002)

This adventure went much better than expected.. I only almost nearly killed 1 adventurer.. and we all know Doc begs for it!  Props to everyones Role playing! 

Doc - You sligh ladies man you! Your wit is legendary.
Ziona - Your underdark knowledge and Loth curses are awesome
Solstar - Your so vain.. I bet you think this thread was about you!
Arrac - You got style, but I can hit your AC all day long! Maybe someday you will take some of Zionas healing magic!  Your subborness rules.
Varr - Well, you hit ALOT. Sometimes the bad guys other times the good guys


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## Dr Midnight (Mar 4, 2002)

Indeed, was fun... though Doc got his ass pummeled AGAIN. Arrgh. My magic d20 is sputtering, like an '83 honda hatchback. Frickin' drow!


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## Hammerhead (Mar 4, 2002)

Varr, have you considered taking the Frenzy Rager Prestige Class in Masters of the Wild? And is Doc taking Duelist?


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## Immort (Mar 4, 2002)

I just finally got to the end of this thread, and I keep seeing plugs for Var yet have seen no Var.  I see commentary on the near demise of Dr. Midnight yet no writeup.  Yer killin me here folks.  I am so confused.  Anyhow, it is just startin to git real interestin so don't stop now.  A couple of my other stories have gone down so I am lookin fer a new mainstay here.  So anyhows, fer the love of God, KEEP WRITING!

-Immort


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## Dr Midnight (Mar 4, 2002)

Well, that's kinda the big problem here... We can't really blame Josh for not having the time to write these sessions up. The dude's married and they're buying/building a house. We're behind by maybe six sessions in the story here. I honestly don't know if we'll ever see these. When it's this far behind, it's almost unreasonable to expect them.

I had tons of time for my story hour(s), but that's because I'm a pathetic, single, pitiable bastard.


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## Wee Jas (Mar 4, 2002)

I think Ziona is going to start writing up sessions starting this week. 

Maybe we can con Xaltar into doing a quick recap of the last 6 sessions...


You don't know Varr?!  Varrrrrrr.... puts you on ice!   lol.


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## Immort (Mar 5, 2002)

Sokay, I understand completely.  We're just gittin ready to have our own baby up here, so time is gunna be mighty short fer a bit.  Doc's supposed to be inducing on Wednesday.  I also know how hard it is to try and go back many many weeks and write from memory.  My own story hour is purely ripped outta the fog of my own hazy memory, several months back.  Anyhow, keep up the good work, and remember fondly the days when we were single and could do stuff.  

-Immort


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## Xaltar (Mar 5, 2002)

I actually have really good notes to go from Ziona's player.  I'll get there, it just takes a lot of time.  I'm hoping that Ziona will also start on the new story hour soon as well.

- Xaltar


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## Ziona (Mar 10, 2002)

*New Thread*

Hello All.

Just wanted to say that the first part of the new thread has been posted.  Check it out...

http://www.enworld.org/messageboards/showthread.php?s=&threadid=6536

I will try to post the next one tonight, tomorrow at the latest. 
And speaking of tomrorrow...it's Game Day!! Woot!


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## Dougal DeKree (Mar 14, 2002)

*Ahem!*

Hey there!
Nice Storyhour, BUT...seems there are some storyparts missing, kinda breaks the flow, right? 

Let's say 4.4 til 5.x ...?!

But really good work so far, keep it up!

Cheers!

Dougal DeKree, Gnomish Illusionist


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## Drak (Mar 14, 2002)

They are trapped on the old boards.. 

Hopefully we will get them back... unless your talking about more recent parts.. Xaltar's been playing Starcraft with me insted of playing catch up... lol.  

Anyhow check out the same crew from a different perspective! 
http://www.enworld.org/messageboards/showthread.php?s=&threadid=6536&pagenumber=2


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## Marauder (Mar 15, 2002)

I am really keen to see how this turned out!

I am running my PC's and they beat the Alhoon too. For CR 19 it really is very weak with a very poor selection of spells. They trapped the thing at the entrance to the tomb (they had closed the doors so they couldn't be pursued by cultists). The priest tried to Heal it (which acts as Harm) with the Testament of Jade, but I rolled 20 on the save (I nerfed that spell as it's broken). The Cure spells still got through (the book is caster level 20) and after they got hit with a 9-dice fireball the party wizard went on the defensive and started counterspelling its magics! Meanwhile the dwarf was hammering it with his greataxe, while the wood elf chopped it up with First Light. When he got stunned another character picked the damned weapon up. That sword went around like a hot potato whenever the wielder got stunned, and they had managed to position themselves so that only 1 of them could get hit by the mind blast. 

Smart players... damn them! I tried so hard to kill one of them too as a pointed lesson for them not to pick fights with everything evil that they see,  but I guess that fell flat when they killed it with only a few serious burns... 110hp's doesn't go as far as I thought (ditto the Deepspawn).

They're about to take on Castle Cormanthor now.

Sorry to hijack - I really want to read how your group took on the castle and the final encounter...!

Wasn't the group originally going to to go against the module 'Into the Dragon's Lair' next?


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## Xaltar (Mar 18, 2002)

I'll try to take some time this week to catch up with the story...at least to take it to what Ziona is currently writing.

Between where this story has left off, and where hers picks up, the party finishes the Pool of Radiance Module and Into the Dragon's Later.  They also go in search of the long lost Spiderfang keep.

I will also be taking the campaign back next weekend and Ziona will continue to chronicle the party's adventures.

- Xaltar


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## Marauder (Mar 18, 2002)

Thanks Xaltar!

Looking forward to reading about it all!


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