# JollyDoc's Kingmaker-Updated 7/4/2011



## JollyDoc

Welcome back!  I've been on a little hiatus, but the itch must once more be scratched.  Our group is currently concluding our Coucil of Thieves campaign, and will be beginning Kingmaker in the next 3-4 weeks.  In the mean time, I'm going to be posting background bios on the PC's as they become available.  Enjoy!!


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## R-Hero

JollyDoc said:


> Welcome back!  I've been on a little hiatus, but the *itch must once more be scratched*..





Don't they make a cream for that??eww!


By the way, did you guys convert to 4.0? I remember talk of play testing but got no feedback.

Glad to see another JD-SH. You are gifted my friend.


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## JollyDoc

R-Hero said:


> Don't they make a cream for that??eww!
> 
> 
> By the way, did you guys convert to 4.0? I remember talk of play testing but got no feedback.
> 
> Glad to see another JD-SH. You are gifted my friend.




4.0???  What's that??  If I wanted to play Warcraft, I'd go over to Ricky's on Saturday!  We're Hard Core Pathfinder, and we LOVE it!  BTW, the new game table is shipping June 2.  You should make a special trip over just to see it...it'd be like taking a pilgrimage to Mecca!!


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## Abciximab

JollyDoc said:


> 4.0???  What's that??  If I wanted to play Warcraft, I'd go over to Ricky's on Saturday!  We're Hard Core Pathfinder, and we LOVE it!  BTW, the new game table is shipping June 2.  You should make a special trip over just to see it...it'd be like taking a pilgrimage to Mecca!!




I was looking at a number of cool gaming tables, so I have to ask, Which Table?


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## JollyDoc

Abciximab said:


> I was looking at a number of cool gaming tables, so I have to ask, Which Table?




[ame=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O3zkhizeSGA&feature=player_embedded]YouTube - Origins 2009 Recap - Friday, part 2[/ame]

This shows the Emissary by GeekChic.  The one shown seats six, but mine seats 8.  I'm also getting the DM's caddy, which is also shown.


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## JollyDoc

Angel on My Shoulder 

The bandit turned to run, but stumbled and fell as his foot found a large root on the forest floor. Arms and legs akimbo, the man fell flat on his face, his sword flying from his grasp and clanging on the ground several feet away. Quickly the brigand turned over on his back and tried to scurry away, but the swordsman was already upon him. 

From afar, and hidden by the cover of the trees, the brigand and his comrades had been watching this one travel down the forest road headed to Rostov. Dressed in superbly crafted armor and other suitably fine accoutrements the man appeared to be nothing more than a simple country noble or knight, but what truly captured the brigands’ gaze was the sword he carried on his back. Even though the massive claymore was of an antiquated styling and design, it was of exquisite quality and the bandits had figured it would catch a fair penny in Restov’s market district. Knowing these woods as well as they did, the gang laid an ambush and struck. 
Now, the bandit found himself staring down the blade of the claymore, the end of which was within a few inches of the tip of his nose and coated in the blood of the other gang members. The hilt of the sword was a stylized eagle, with the guard the bird’s wings, and the metal appeared to be of a darker hue than normal steel…cold iron, perhaps? Etched into the blade, and now clearly evident was a single word…Judicium. 

But it was not the blade that had the brigands full attention. The knight wore a helm that covered most of his face, but a large slit left his eyes uncovered. Those eyes were white and clouded like a blind man’s, but obviously not unseeing. Disarmed and trapped, the bandit held up his arms, palms out, and stammered, 
“Please…please…don’t kill me. I beg your mercy.” 
The swordsman did not seem to understand the man’s words, but the gesture, one of surrender, was comprehended. The man thought for a moment, as if listening to the consult of some unseen individual. After a few seconds, the swordsman nodded, and slowly lowered his blade. The weapon, still at the ready, was no longer threatening the bandit. After a few quick blinks, the swordsman’s eyes returned to a normal, deep emerald. He removed his helmet, and the bandit gasped realizing that the swordsman was nothing more than a boy of not even twenty. Also, the bandit became aware of an odd mark on his left cheek, one that had previously been hidden by part of the boy’s helmet. The mark had the coloration of a birthmark, but appeared too detailed to be random. It clearly depicted a sword overlying an image of the sun. If it were some form of religious marking, the bandit could not place it as the only faiths that he was familiar with were those of Erastil the Deadeye and Gorum the Lord of Iron. 

The bandit, trembling at the hacked bodies of his former comrades, quietly stammered, “What are you? Some kind of demon? Possessed?” 
One corner of the boy’s mouth crept up in a crooked smile. 
“No. Not a demon. Not possessed. Accompanied may be a better way to describe it.”
 The bandit’s brow furrowed. “What?” 
The boy sighed, and cocked his gaze to the side, again as if seeking council from an invisible source. Nodding as if in agreement to an unspoken comment, the boy looked up. 
“Have you ever heard of Iomedae, the Inheritor of Aroden?” 
The bandit shook his head. The boy slowly nodded again. 
“Of course you haven’t. Iomedae is one of the manydeities of Golarion, but her faith has not yet reach this part of the world. In fact, the only time that her faith is known to have touched Brevoy is through the passing of her crusaders through this country as they were preparing to do battle with the fiends in the Worldwound in the third Mendevian Crusade. My father was one of those crusaders, having travelled north from Andoran to join in the fight. “When the time for battle had ended, my father returned here to Rostland. He liked the rural area far past the outskirts of Restov, and there he settled and met my mother. He had returned from the Worldwound with enough spoils of battle to make him a very wealthy man, but his proudest possession had been this.” 
The boy slowly raised the sword into a readied position, and the bandit flinched. The boy chuckled, 
“Don’t worry. I am not going to kill you unless you force my hand. Iomedae teaches us that it is better to accept a willing and honorable surrender than it is to simply cut down your foes. She would have us fight as necessary to defend ourselves, but wanton slaughter is left to the Gorumites. Anyway, as I was saying, this blade has been passed down throughout generations of my family, and it was at one time very powerfully enchanted. This wasn’t enough to save my father, however, when a gang of giants attacked our village when I was no more than ten years old. My father defended the townspeople valiantly, and eventually the gang was routed…but not before the sword had been shattered by a giant’s axe and my father laid low. The local vicar was able to repair the blade with his magic, but the enchantment was too powerful for him to replace. There was, however, nothing they could do for my father. But my father was a knight of Iomedae…a paladin in her service. He would willingly have given his life if it meant that innocents would be spared.” 
The bandit, despite the earlier bloodshed and his fear, seemed to be entranced by the story. Despite his age, the boy’s forthright nature had shifted the man’s attitude. Still timid, the man asked, 
“What is that marking on your cheek?” 
“What, this?” the boy asked, pointing to the birthmark. “This is a symbol of my faith, a brand of the Inheritor. When I was a babe it was just a simple blotch, a blemish, up into my childhood. Shortly after my father’s death it began to evolve, until at the age of fifteen it had transformed into the symbol you see here. It is now my divine link to my Lady. It’s funny that you should ask, but shortly after my birthmark had completed its metamorphosis I received a strange visitor. Iomedae herself had sent down one of Her own servants, an angel known as an Astral Deva, a type of being created by the deities of Good from the souls of their most deserving followers. The angel explained to me that I had been chosen by the goddess to be one of her servants here on Golarion. If I were to accept the calling, the Deva would be bound to me, and I to it, and together we would serve as a direct channel of Her grace…one of Her Chosen. The angel taught me much…how to use a sword, how to summon my Lady’s protection and blessing, and how to conjure healing magic to tend my wounds. I still have much to learn, and in this learning there is much power that I can yet attain. This is why you are seeing me on the road to Restov today…I hear that Brevoy is chartering groups to foray into the Stolen Lands. There may not be a better place to hone my skills than in the wilds there.” 
The bandit, still listening intently, asked,
 “What happened to your eyes earlier…and your voice…you were speaking in some tongue that I have never heard.” 
Smiling, the boy responded. “Iomedae’s gift comes with a price. With the direct link to the divine, during times of stress I am filled with the Celestial Fury. It does not control my actions, but during those times I can only speak in the tongue of the angels. Now…I think that I have probably told you enough. We have two paths here that we can go down. One, in accordance with Brevish law, I can execute you for banditry, or two, you can swear to me that you are finished with waylaying travelers and will forsake such an unlawful life. Know that you would be swearing to an agent of the Inheritor, and she will hold you to those words.” 
The bandit quickly replied, “No, no, please…I swear. I am done with this!” 
The boy placed his helmet back over his head and gripped his sword. With a quick flick of the blade, he commanded the brigand, 
“Go.” 
The elder man obliged, scrambling to his feet and bolting off into the woods. Within a handful of seconds, he was already out of the boy’s view. 
The boy heard the voice of his passenger in his mind.

“Was it really necessary to tell him all of that, Velox?”
 Velox shrugged and replied, “Probably not. But perhaps knowing the source and motives of the one that showed him mercy will help to mold his decisions in the future. Also, you never know, the effort at diplomacy may have won us an ally in the future…or at least an enemy that might stay his hand. Plus, who is going to believe him…it sounds crazy!” 
There was a moment of silence as the angel considered the boy’s words. 
“Perhaps you are right. You just need to be cautious with this kind of information. Being that we are in the wilds, as far as Iomedae is concerned, we do not have any form of organized community of faith to fall back on. If it is made too common knowledge that one of Her followers, let alone one of Her Chosen is abroad in the wilderness, you could become a target of Her enemies…and they are not few in number. We are on our own here, but with some luck we will be able to find a group of like-minded adventurers to travel into the Stolen Lands. It is my sense that there we will be facing great challenges there. Come, the road awaits. We must move on to Restov.”
 The boy nodded. “Yes, father.” 

Velox Vendicatori – LG Oracle of Iomedae 
Traits (Four total, 2 free + 2 from extra traits feat): 
Campaign Trait 
Faith Trait 
Social Trait 
Equipment Trait 
Rostlander (+1 to Fort Save) 
Birthmark (+2 vs. charm and compulsion, acts as focus for spells) 
Rich Parents (900 gp starting) 
Heirloom Weapon (free MW, +1 to hit with that weapon) 
Skills Taken: 
Diplomacy ,Sense Motive, Perception, Spellcraft


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## JollyDoc

Tungdil Steelfinger was raised in a typical dwarven family…or as typical as one could be in the town of Brunderton, far away from the nearest clan of dwarves in Brevoy, the Golkas of the Golushkin Mountains. Tungdil, however, was not your typical dwarf.  He would spend hours wondering the outskirts of the Gronzi Forest, and despised listening to his father’s endless tales of his glory days in the mines.
Ultimately, this led to constant fights between himself and his father.  After one such heated debate, he decided it was time to make his own way in the world, and so he left Brunderton to follow his path.  During his many forays into the forest, he had begun to hear the call of Gozreh…the Call of the Wild.  He knew enough to survive on his own in the forest, but once there, he lacked direction…until he encountered the adherents of the Green Faith.  He understood at once that had finally found his true kinsmen.  Life among the druids came as naturally to him as the stone did to other dwarves.  Finally, there came a day when the head of his order came to him with a proposition.  The Sword Lords of Rostland had put out a call for adventuring pioneers to explore the Stolen Lands with the intent of eventually settling them.  To the druids of the Green Faith, this could spell opportunity, or disaster.  The requested that Tungdil join these adventurers to divine their true intent.   He eagerly accepted, anxious to make his mark in the world, and prove to his father that his life’s path was not a waste of time.


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## Joachim

Man, JD, looking at Velox's backstory without those line breaks hurts my eyes.  Just so y'all can grasp how much of a nerd I am, here is what I sent to the group, complete with a watermark of Iomedae's holy symbol!

(the bit at the end with traits/skills was more for the group's consumption to aid in party construction)


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## JollyDoc

Joachim said:


> Man, JD, looking at Velox's backstory without those line breaks hurts my eyes.  Just so y'all can grasp how much of a nerd I am, here is what I sent to the group, complete with a watermark of Iomedae's holy symbol!
> 
> (the bit at the end with traits/skills was more for the group's consumption to aid in party construction)




Don't email me unalterable pdf's in the future!!


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## Joachim

JollyDoc said:


> Don't email me unalterable pdf's in the future!!




I could have sent the Word file, if you had asked


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## R-Hero

JollyDoc said:


> 4.0???  What's that??  If I wanted to play Warcraft, I'd go over to Ricky's on Saturday!




Yea, Ricky is a big nerd.





> Wer'e Hard Core Pathfinder, and we LOVE it!  BTW, the new game table is shipping June 2.  You should make a special trip over just to see it...it'd be like taking a pilgrimage to Mecca!!




I got an 8ft (cherry wood I think)conference table for $0.00 from Carraway Hospital.  Really good looking but nothing like the Emissary...  (Now where did I put that jig-saw?)



Veloxs' backstory/discription has piqued my intrest.  Sounds like there could be Veritas blood in him.

_DEI JUDICIUM  The judgment of God. This name was given to the barbarous and superstitious trial by ordeal._ 

Whats the opposite of an evil-gasmn 'cause I had one when I read this.!!


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## Joachim

R-Hero said:


> _DEI JUDICIUM  The judgment of God. This name was given to the barbarous and superstitious trial by ordeal._
> 
> Whats the opposite of an evil-gasmn 'cause I had one when I read this.!!




Yeah, I have been stealing from Latin and Italian for my Celestial and naming conventions.  Velox = Swift in Latin.  Vendicatori = Avenger (or the plural thereof...) in Itailian.

It got pulled out of the backstory somehow in one of my edits, but Velox' father's name is Santo, or 'holy'...so his name Santo Vendicatori, or Holy Avenger...appropriate for paladin, no?


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## Neverwinter Knight

YES !!! Just barely made it over here...haven't read anything yet...just wanted to confirm if this thread is really happening

Great! You rock, JollyDoc !!!


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## JollyDoc

There was death here.  It lay sprawled across the ground of what looked like a bandit raid gone wrong.  Although no tracker, Davrim could see that two sets of prints led away from the scene, one walking, and the other full out running. Choosing to follow the latter was obvious; either their owner was in need of help, or he was attempting to escape the justice he deserved. Davrim set out at a jog, one hand clutching at his chest where he still felt the pulse that had begun when he had arrived at the massacre site.  She had called him there.....

　
“Spatter be good,” the orc babbled.  “Spatter knows he done good! Boss put him in charge!  He get big reward when he return!  For long time Spatter and his boys been taking many shinies from fool humans on the road, in small villages, and even a church!  Spatter always take best loot! In first village he took woman.  Spatter in charge of taking care of woman!  Spatter do good job, never hurt her!”
 The armor clad warrior listened patiently, not showing emotion as the last of the orc raiders sputtered on about what had happened over the past year, every so often begging for forgiveness. His crimes were obvious, and it seemed that he knew little else of use. Standing, the warrior drew his sword and beheaded the orc in one fluid motion. He turned and strode towards the rest of the Judges, who stood waiting behind a tent that had been set up for the young woman.  Judge Graham was still inside, attending to her. They were the Judges, Iomedae's greatest law bringers. They were sent all over Golarion to the most ruthless, lawless places in the world. The orcs had sacked a church that had been one of the faction’s supply posts. The Judges were the first responders because, unlike the clergy, they used any means necessary to bring justice to the guilty.  A cry and the sight of Judge Graham leaving the tent caused them all to turn.
 "She will be fine physically,” the taciturn woman said, “but her mind is gone. Sad.  I have never witnessed a more quiet birth, but compared to the ravages of orcs for a year..... well,”  She shook her head.  “We were sent here for some purpose, and I believe it is the Inheritor’s wish that we take her and the babe back with us.” 


Davrim ran for the better part of the day, stopping only to stow his armor when it began to hinder his maneuverability as he sprinted through the dense woods. When he could no longer see the tracks, he went on instinct. Finally, he came to a clearing and  saw what he had been hoping for.  A man stood, looking nervously about him, a dagger in his hand as he waited for a pair of travelers to unhitch a set of horses from their wagon. Taking out his bow, Davrim knelt and loosed a single shot.  He dropped the bow before he saw whether or not the arrow hit, and drew his falchion as he charged across the clearing.  The arrow had missed its mark, but had momentarily distracted the bandit.  The brigand saw the large half-orc barreling towards him, and his eyes went wide. Dropping the dagger, he fell to his knees and began begging and pleading. Davrim came to a stop before him.
 "Tell me of your crimes," the half-orc intoned.
 The bandit immediately began stammering out the events of the past day, his eyes never leaving Davrim’s chest. Davrim listened in silence,and then, when the murderer had finished his confession, he removed the man’s head in one, clean stroke.


Sometime later, Davrim was awoken by the rumble of wagon wheels crunching over dirt and stone.  A woman quickly leaned over him and held out a water skin. He nodded to her in gratitude and accepted the drink.  Davrim assumed he must have passed out from exhaustion after dispatching the bandit. 
“You have my thanks,” he said, his voice raspy and dry. “Where are we bound?”
“It is you who are deserving of gratitude,” the woman smiled shyly.  “We no doubt owe you our lives. We are headed to Restov, and thence into the Stolen Lands.  We are farmers, and we have heard that the Swordlords are offering land charters to those willing and capable,” she beamed proudly. 
Davrim nodded and lay back, but the young woman persisted in her chatter, subtly prodding for information about who he was, where he had come from.
“I am a Judge of Iomedae,” he sighed at last. “I too am going to the Stolen Lands to bring the law the Church to the lawless.  I serve the Church in all things, and if Restov hopes to bring civilization to the bandits and monsters of the wilds, then I shall see that Justice is brought with it.” 
 Seeing the questioning look in her eyes as she glanced towards his chest, Davrim sighed again.
 “This is the mark of my Lady,” he said. “I was raised by the Judges of Iomedae since my infancy.  That is all I wish to explain this evening, madame.”
 Closing his eyes again, he found peaceful rest, knowing that he had done his Lady’s will once more.


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## JollyDoc

Selena Belladonna was raised unaware that her mother was a witch.  She knew only that her mother had powers that were unexplainable, and that she always had a crow sitting upon her shoulder.
Another fact that Endora, Selena’s mother, never shared was that she was also the granddaughter of Baba Yaga, one of the greatest, and foulest witches ever known. Endora had fled from Whitethrone when the riders had appeared with news that her own mother was going to be replaced by Queen Elvannia.  Endora had no interest in being moved to some place or some plane else that she did not know, and so she took her child and disappeared quietly into the Stolen Lands.

Selena began manifesting  powers of her own shortly after she found her pet, a viper she named Miss Sinister. Her mother guided her in the use of her abilities, and finally disclosed her true heritage as she lay dying of old age.  Endora also told her daughter that danger was coming to their home.  Civilization had found them, and the lordlings to the north were sending pioneers into the Stolen Lands to found a new kingdom.  She sent Selena to Restov to find the group and establish herself as a member, so that in befriending them, she might bend them to her mother’s cause…


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## Neverwinter Knight

Baba Yaga. Love how weave some of the old DnD content into your campaigns. Wasn't she a half-ogress in some settings, though?


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## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:


> Baba Yaga. Love how weave some of the old DnD content into your campaigns. Wasn't she a half-ogress in some settings, though?




Believe it or not, Baba Yaga is part of Pathfinder canon.  She is the ruler of her own empire.  Cool, right?


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## JollyDoc

Stevhan liked the rasp of the whetstone against his long, steel blade.  When he wasn’t out tracking down bandits with his father, the sheriff, he could usually be found sharpening his sword outside their small home.  That was where Victor found him.
	“Well, no bandit will ever complain that you almost cut off his head, boy,” said the gruff, middle-aged sheriff.
	Stevhan chuckled softly, “No, I suppose they won’t.  Any news from town?”
	“Actually, there is something,” said Victor.  “Looks like the swordlords are issuing charters for adventurers to enter the Stolen Lands.  They want to pursue the bandits beyond the borders – maybe even chase down the Stag Lord himself.”
	“It’s about time,” said Stevhan.  “We could’ve chased them back time and again, but we didn’t.”
	“True…true,” the older man mused.  He closed his eyes, and chose his next words carefully.  “Boy, I think you should go.”  The rasp of the whetstone stopped, but Stevhan said nothing.  Victor looked up at the boy he had raised and said, “There is something you should know.  Your real parents,” he began, “I had always told you that your father was a friend of mine, and that I took care of you when he went missing.  Well, that’s true.  What I didn’t tell you was this:  Before I took up working for the Andori, I was the huntmaster for another family…House Rogarvia.  One of the younger sons loved to hunt, and he was my best friend…but he had a problem.  He had got one of the ladies-in-waiting with child.  Then, all of a sudden, the Rogarvias disappeared.  I married the girl, and she gave birth to a son.  She didn’t make it through the birth, but you did.”	
	Stevhan realized that he had stopped breathing.  His whole world had been turned upside down.  The Rogarvias were the rightful rulers of Brevoy.  All of the living members of the family had disappeared almost twenty years ago…all, it seemed, save an unborn babe with royal blood flowing in his veins.
	Stevhan exhaled sharply, then looked up at Victor, and said, “I didn’t see that coming.”
	“No, I suppose not.  No one knows about you.  I kept the secret well all these years, but now it’s time for you to chart your own course.  You’re a skilled tracker, a competent archer, and a deadly swordsman, if I do say so myself.  Hells, I taught you everything I know, so you should be pretty good,” Victor laughed.  “You can carve out your own legacy in the Stolen Lands, and who knows, one day you might just reclaim your birthright.”
	“I don’t even know where to start” said Stevhan.
	“Well, it’s getting late,” said Victor, “let’s talk about it over breakfast in the morning.”  The sheriff reached out a scarred hand and pulled Stevhan to his feet.  Victor looked at his son with pride, and they went into the house together.


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## JollyDoc

Brevoy is a land divided…but then it always was.  Two hundred years ago, when Choral “the Conqueror” Rogarvia crossed the Lake of Mists and Veils, it was Lord Nikos Surtova of Issia who met him on its shores under a flag of truce.  They worked out an agreement whereby Issia would surrender its land and people but the Surtovas would retain their power and wealth, serving the new ruler as stewards and duly sworn vassal lords.
This arrangement did not sit well with Issia’s southern neighbors, the Aldori swordlords of Rostland.  They rallied for war and secured their strongholds, yet they were ultimately no match for the discipline and tactics of Choral’s forces.  The swordlords made their last stand in a narrow valley…and were devastated when the Conqueror unleashed his greatest weapon…a pair of red dragons!  In the aftermath of the defeat, Rostland pledged itself to Choral as a way to save its traditions from total eradication.
For the next two centuries, the Rogarvias held the Ruby Fortress and ruled Brevoy from New Stetven, molding the former independent nations into a unified country.  Then, in the middle of winter in early 4699 AR, every member of House Rogarvia vanished without a trace.  There was no evidence of foul play or struggle…the nobles were simply gone.  A brief period of chaos and panic followed, but by the end of the year, the Surtova’s had made their move.  Citing age-old ties with the Conqueror’s line, they quickly seized power in New Stetven and began to extend their reach across Brevoy.  With all of Issia backing the move, Rostland had little choice but to bend its knee again.  King Noleski Surtova had gained control of the Ruby Fortress and the Dragonscale Throne…but for how long?

__________________________________________________________

The time is now, twenty years after the disappearance of the royal family:  the Stolen Lands, which lay between the southern borders of Brevoy and the River Kingdoms, have long resisted attempts at civilization and colonization.  The term “stolen” is defined differently depending upon who is asked and who is doing the asking.  Brevoy considers the land stolen from their southern borders by bandits and barbarians, while in the River Kingdoms, it is believed that Brevoy allowed the lands to fall into the hands of monsters and worse in order to rob the lords of the Kingdoms of more lands to rule.  Regardless of what the truth may be, the fact remains that the swordlords of Restov have been spurred to action by an increase in aggression among the bandits of the Stolen Lands, and by building political tensions with their northern kinsmen in Issia.  They have begun to send agents and colonists into the disputed region to explore, settle and, if need be, conquer.  The establishment of new kingdoms beholden to Restov’s swordlords, and the rest of Rostland, would not only bring freedom from banditry and raids along the border, but also the resources and clout needed to give Rostland the political footing it needs to challenge the Surtova hold on the crown.


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## JollyDoc

Well, we finished Council of Thieves tonight, and will be beginning Kingmaker next Sunday.  Regular posts should begin shortly thereafter.


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## carborundum

Whoooo!!!

How did CoT work out? Did you pump up the bad guy as usual? Did he kick serious bottom again? ;-)


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## JollyDoc

carborundum said:


> Whoooo!!!
> 
> How did CoT work out? Did you pump up the bad guy as usual? Did he kick serious bottom again? ;-)




Not exactly...

We use the critical fumble deck, and so...Eccardian sort of fumbled on his first salvo of attacks.  The result was called Fling, in which the recipient flings his weapon 1d6 squares in a random direction.  So...on huge, summoned earth elemental later, and the weapon, Eccardian's ONLY weapon, I might add, was no longer in play.


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## JollyDoc

The return of the...

Sunday Night Teaser!

1)  A truly motley assortment of pioneers finds themselves as strange travelling companions into the unknown wilds of the Stolen Lands.

2)  Arriving at a remote trading post, they stumble into a case of mistaken identity, and find themselves thrown into action before they have time to settle in.

3)  Their first foray into battle sees them successfully bust up and extortion racket, and the beginnings of a profitable friendship.

4)  The exploration of the Green Belt begins in earnest, with many tasks already set out before the band.  But when they decide to take out the bandits behind the extortion ring, they find themselves in over their heads!!


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## R-Hero

Joachim said:


> ...but Velox' father's name is Santo, or 'holy'...so his name Santo Vendicatori, or Holy Avenger...appropriate for paladin, no?




Thats about the cheeziest, hokey, corny bit of.. I ever...er uhm...

_"whispers"_ (Wish I would have thought of that first!)






JollyDoc said:


> The return of the...
> 
> Sunday Night Teaser!




Paitently awaiting the return to the story. (Looks at watch, calander etc.)


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## carborundum

The Sunday Night Teaser is back! 


...and all is right with the world


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## JollyDoc

R-Hero said:


> Thats about the cheeziest, hokey, corny bit of.. I ever...er uhm...
> 
> _"whispers"_ (Wish I would have thought of that first!)
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> Paitently awaiting the return to the story. (Looks at watch, calander etc.)




Never fear...this week's update should be complete by this weekend.  I also plan on posting some "action" photos of our NEW EMISSARY GAMING TABLE!!!  It is 7 feet of pure Awesome!!


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## JollyDoc

WHENCE KINGS ARE MADE


_“Be it known that the bearer of this charter has been charged by the Swordlords of Restov, acting upon the greater good and authority vested within them by the office of the Regent of the Dragonscale Throne, has granted the right of exploration and travel within the wilderness region known as the Greenbelt.  Exploration should be limited to an area no further than thirty-six miles east and west, and sixty miles south of Oleg’s Trading Post.  The carrier of this charter should also strive against banditry and other unlawful behavior to be encountered.  The punishment for unrepentant banditry remains, as always, execution by sword or rope.  So witnessed on this 24th day of Talistril, under watchful eye of the Lordship of Restov and authority granted by Lord Noleski Surtova, current Regent of the Dragonscale Throne.”_
____________________________________________________________

Oleg’s trading post was located at the southern edge of Rostland (and thus Brevoy), and further south, the green line of the Narlmarches loomed only a few miles away.  The post’s remote location and inconvenient distance from a major river ultimately kept it from realizing significant financial success.  That suited Oleg just fine.  The trader decided to move himself and his wife, Svetlana, to precisely such an isolated locale to get away from the constant machinations and political maneuverings that seemed to dominate urban life in Restov.  All he ever truly wanted was a place for the two of them to live far enough from the sins of civilization without living so far that they couldn’t enjoy all of its benefits.  Accepting a charter from Restov to rebuild an abandoned border fort into a trading post seemed like the perfect solution.

Oleg and Svetlana spent several months renovating the old fort, their customers few and far between, consisting mostly of trappers, hunters and an eccentric hermit named Bokken, whose occasional potions helped keep the post in business when the fur trade was inconsistent.  Things were good for awhile…until word of the trading post caught the attention of the local bandits who infested the Greenbelt to the south.  They first appeared at his gate three months past, and were it not for the fact that he feared for what might happen to Svetlana, Oleg would have no doubt sacrificed his life in some foolish attempt to defend his stock.  Instead, he’d been forced to turn over each month’s revenue to the brigands when they appeared to collect their “tithe.” 

Svetlana knew her husband better than he knew himself, and she was well aware how much pain the situation caused him, and that she was the reason he hadn’t stood up to the bandits.  That act of humility was crushing his soul.  She’d pleaded with him on more than one occasion to abandon the trading post and return to Restov, but Oleg had stubbornly refused to give in completely.  His only concession to her wishes had been to send several requests to the city for reinforcements whenever a trapper or hunter stopped by on their way back to civilization.  In fact, he’d recently received word back with a promise that a group of guards would soon be sent, but so far, he’d seen no sign of such protection.  Little did he know that his request would be answered sooner than expected…or how his life would be irrevocably changed from that point on… 
______________________________________________________________ 

“Do you see something that disturbs you?”  Velox asked as he glanced aside at the burly half-breed that strode beside him.  The big man had been darting furtive looks in his direction ever since the six unlikely companions had set out from Restov.
“That mark on your face…,” Davrim replied.
“Ah,” Velox nodded.  “It is the mark of my Lady.”
“Is the Lady you speak of called Iomedae?”  Davrim asked thoughtfully.
“You know of her?” the young man exclaimed.
“Indeed I do,” the half-orc smiled, “for she is my Lady as well.  I am an inquisitor in Her service.”
Velox’s blank expression puzzled Davrim.
“Are you new to the church?” he asked.  “Are you unfamiliar with the hierarchy?”
Velox dropped his gaze to his boots.  “I am not a part of your church.  I was…called.  The Lady spoke to me and revealed to me that She had a purpose for me, and that it would be revealed in time.”
Davrim’s eyes widened.  “You’re an oracle?  I never dreamed I would actually meet one!”
“I am not familiar with the term,” Velox said, his brow furrowed in confusion.  “As I said, I am not a part of your church.”
The half-orc shook his head in disbelief.  “You really don’t know what you are, do you?  You are unique, my young friend.  You are a gift!  Truly if the two of us have found ourselves upon this same road, then it is a sign that this is where the Lady wants us to be, and that our mission is just!”

Further behind the two warriors, a pair of women also walked side-by-side, but as anyone could tell easily just by looking at them, the few feet of distance between them wasn’t all that separated them.
“If you don’t mind my saying so,” Selena said at length, “you don’t seem exactly…suited… to this sort of journey.”
The other woman looked at her coolly from beneath thick lashes and heavily applied mascara.  As she reached up to push her carefully coiffed hair from her face, heavy gold bracelets jangled against her wrist. 
“Oh?” she asked as she quirked one carefully plucked eyebrow.  “And what, pray tell, do you think I’m ‘suited’ to be doing?”
Selena smirked.  “Adorning the arm of some nobleman would be my guess.  Did your husband send you along to pick out land for your summer estate?”  She laughed harshly as she lifted the black viper coiled around her forearm to her lips for a quick kiss.
The other woman’s face wrinkled in disgust.
“Well, snake handling and fetishes aren’t my forte, to be sure,” she sneered as her eyes traveled over the eclectic garb of the witch, “but don’t underestimate me, sweetheart.  My name’s Mox, by the way, and you’d do well to keep your opinions to yourself and stay out of my way.”

The oddest pair of the company brought up the rear.  The dwarf was a sight in-and-of-himself.  He wore rough, tanned animal skins, and his hair and beard were wild and unkempt, with bits of dirt and twigs caught up in the twisted mass.  He carried a simple wooden cudgel belted at his waist.  His companion was rustic as well, but carried himself with a calm that came from a lifetime of familiarity with his surroundings.  He wore forest colors and a mottled cloak, a hunter’s bow slung over his back, and a sword at his hip.  His face was weathered and tanned, but his youth showed through when he smiled as he glanced askance at the belching dwarf beside him.
“Tungdill, is it?” the ranger asked.
“Aye,” the dwarf grunted.  “I’ll answer to it.  What was yours again?  I ain’t too good with names.  People neither for that matter.”
“Stevhan,” the ranger replied, and extended his hand.
Tungdill grunted again as he shook it awkwardly.  
“What do ya make of the rest of this crew?” he asked.  “Look like a bunch of soft, city dwellers to me.”  He spat a wad of gooey phlegm at his feet.
“I suppose,” Stevhan nodded, “but I’ve found that looks can be deceiving.  For example, I would be inclined to think that most folk would underestimate you at first glance, but what I see is three-feet and a couple of hundred pounds of barely caged fury.”
Tungdill bellowed with laughter and slapped the ranger across the back with a meaty hand.
“I like you, boy!” he roared.  “You and me is gonna get along just fine!”
_____________________________________________________________


Oleg’s Trading Post wasn’t much to look at.  The old fort was surrounded by a wooden palisade, and at each corner stood an old watch tower, each armed with a decrepit and obviously non-functioning catapult.  The double gates stood open, revealing an open yard surrounded by a stable, a guesthouse, and the main hall.  The sound of hammering could be heard coming from the roof of the hall, and as the six companions entered the compound, a rosy-cheeked woman came bustling from the guest house, her broad smile beaming.  

“You’ve come!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together.  
Velox stepped forward and presented the charter to her.
“We’re here on the authority of the Swordlords, good lady,” he said, bowing.
“Oh yes,” she nodded, still smiling, “we’ve been expecting you!  I’m Svetlana, and that’s my husband, Oleg.”  She gestured towards the man up on the roof, who seemed to be taking his time putting away his tools and coming down the ladder.  “They sent you to take care of our bandit problem!”
“Well…,” Stevhan hesitated, “our charter does give us authority to deal with banditry.  Are you saying that you’ve had dealings with some?”
By that time, Oleg had joined them.  He was a big, swarthy man with permanent frown lines etched between his brows.  He took the charter from Svetlana and quickly scanned it, his scowl deepening, and his face reddening as he did so.
“Oh for the love of Erastil!” he shouted, tossing the parchment to the ground.  “They aren’t the ones we asked for!  They’re just a bunch of prospectors!”
He threw his hands in the air and stormed off.
“Forgive him,” Svetlana said quietly as she bent to retrieve the charter and perused it.  “We have indeed been having bandit problems, and we sent word to Restov weeks ago requesting soldiers to help us.  When we saw you coming, we thought our prayers had been answered.”
“Well, as my friend said,” Velox replied, “we have been granted authority to deal with bandits, and if you will pardon my bravado, it may be that we are better equipped to do so than the militia.  Can you give us the details of your situation?”

Svetlana invited them inside the main hall, and sat with them around a long table while Oleg made himself busy behind the bar, studiously trying not to look like he was listening in.
“They first came three months ago, and threatened to burn down the post,” she began.  “They also said that they would…take me…if we didn’t agree to hand over all of the furs and goods we’d accumulated over the previous month.  Since then, they’ve returned twice more…each time at sunrise on the first day of the month…which is tomorrow.”
“How many of them are there?”  Davrim asked.
“The first time they came,” Svetlana replied, “there were a dozen of them.  Ten of them seemed like your typical riff-raff, but there was also a cloaked man who carried a longbow, and a woman who wore two small axes.  It was she who did most of the talking.”  Svetlana’s voice lowered.  “The way she smiled when she said what would happen to me if we didn’t pay them…She seemed smarter than the cloaked man…and more dangerous.  I think she was their leader.  On the later visits, though, only the hooded man came.  He had six men with him on the second trip, and only four on the last one.  I guess they think they have us cowed.  Maybe when they come tomorrow, there will be even fewer.  Will you help us?”
“You needn’t ask,” Velox replied.  “Do I speak for us all?” he looked around the table.  One by one, his companions nodded.  
From behind the counter, Oleg grunted.  “We’ll see.”
______________________________________________________________

At dawn the next morning, four horsemen rode into the yard of the trading post.  Their leader wore a hooded, grey cloak and carried a longbow over his shoulders.
“You’d best get your arses out here!” he shouted, rising in his stirrups.  “I don’t like waiting, and if you make me, I’ll start tossing some fire in to speed you up!”
His three thuggish companions laughed coarsely, but Happs didn’t.  Happs Bydon was a cruel man who’d turned to banditry after he was caught running a protection racket in Restov while also, at least in theory, serving as a soldier in the city guard.  He fled the city when he learned the law was coming for him, abandoning a wife and two children to suffer the shame of his crimes.  Absent of morals and conscience though he was, he was no fool, and he sensed immediately that something wasn’t right.  His head whipped to the left as he caught a furtive movement in the stable from the corner of his eye.  
“It’s a trap!” he screamed.

An arrow hissed through the air as the bunkhouse door behind the bandits slammed open.  It sank into the flank of the rear rider.  As he screamed and slipped from his horse, Davrim was already upon him, sweeping his greatsword from his back sheath as he came.  The half-orc’s heavy blade never stopped, its deadly arc continuing down as it severed the brigand’s head from his shoulders.  Happs turned in confusion and rage, sawing at the reins of his own mount as he fought to control it.  A sudden flash of light from above and behind him caused him to spin reflexively in the opposite direction.  He caught a brief glance of a tall woman dressed like a noble standing atop one of the watchtowers just as a bolt of blue fire struck him in the chest, and flung him from the saddle.  He just managed to climb to his hands and knees when he saw the odd sight of a wild-eyed dwarf emerging from the stables.  The little troll was chanting something and waving his hands about like some sort of witch-doctor.  Before Happs knew whether to laugh or shout in rage, a small, black storm cloud appeared directly over his head, and a small bolt of lightning and tiny hail stones struck him about the head.  He collapsed in a heap, unconscious.  

The remaining bandits panicked.  Their mounts tangled as they struggled to turn them towards the gate.  Before they could get them disentangled, Velox had emerged from the stables behind Tungdill.
“Forgive them, father,” he muttered as he drove his blade through one man’s chest.  
The last brigand dug his heels into his horse’s ribs, spurring it into a gallop.  Just as he reached the gate, however, Stevhan knocked a second arrow and loosed in one smooth motion.  The shaft took the fleeing man in the throat, and he was dead before he hit the ground.
____________________________________________________________

“I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes!”  Oleg laughed as he surveyed the carnage.  “When I’m wrong, I say I’m wrong, and I’m not too proud to admit it.”
He stuck out one, meaty paw and Velox gripped it, nodding silently.
“You can consider my home yours now,” the trader said.  “You’ll need a base camp if you’re dead set on exploring the Green Belt.”
“We appreciate your hospitality,” Velox replied.  “I’m sure we’ll need all the help we can get in this wilderness, but aren’t you concerned that the friends of this rabble will come for revenge?”
“Maybe,” Oleg shrugged, “eventually, but they’re a bunch of cowards at heart.  I think it’ll be awhile before they try anything.  Maybe by that time the guards from Restov will be here.  Besides, I plan on stringing up the bodies outside my wall.  Let that be a warning to any other troublemakers that come sniffing around.”
“Is that really necessary?”  Davrim growled.
“Justice has already been served,” Velox added.  “Let the dead lie in peace.”
“Bah!”  Oleg waved them off.  “You’re not in Restov anymore.  Your urban sensibilities will get you killed quick out here.  You’ll learn in time, I suppose.  Anyway, what’re you going to do with that one?”

Happs, bound hand-and-foot, was just coming around.  The others stood around him in a menacing circle.
“You rubes don’t know what you’ve gotten yourselves into!” he spat.  “When Kressle finds out about this, you’re all dead!  And you two…” he grinned evilly at Oleg and Svetlana, “you’ll only wish you were dead by the time she gets through with you!”
“You need to calm down, little man,” Mox said smiling as she crouched down next to the bandit, “or I’ll have to have my less lady-like friend here,” she jerked her head towards Selena, “introduce you to her pet.”
Selena smiled wickedly as Sinister slithered out of her sleeve and onto Happs’s leg.
“No!” he screamed.  “Not snakes!  Anything but snakes!  What!?  What do you want from me!?”
“We want to know where your camp is,” Stevhan answered.  “We want to know about this Kressle, and how many men she has there.  Oh, and we also want to know about this stag head necklace you were wearing.”
“Alright!  Alright!”  Happs cried.  “Just keep that snake away from me!  The camp’s about thirty miles southwest of here, on the Thorn River!  Kressle’s our leader, and she’s got about six or eight other guys still with her!  She gave me the necklace, told me it meant I was her second.  That’s all I know!  I swear!”

“So he’s spilled his guts,” Oleg snorted.  “Now what?”
“We were given the authority to deal out justice as we see fit,” Velox said, “but I’m not a murderer.  You say the Restov soldiers should be arriving soon?  Would you mind keeping an eye on our friend there until they arrive?”
Oleg’s toothy grin was positively wolf-like.
“It’d be my pleasure!”
_____________________________________________________________


*WANTED!*
_Bandits, dead or alive!
By order of the Swordlords
For six or more bandits
Living or dead,
A reward of 400 gold crowns is offered!_

*WANTED!*
_The Sootscale kobolds are in turmoil!
They pose a threat to any civilized undertakings in the Green Belt!
Slay them all, or make peace with them!
The Swordlords offer a reward of 800 gold crowns!_

*WANTED!*
_One Tatzylwyrm head!
See Oleg for details.
Reward of 600 gold crowns is offered!_

*WANTED!*
_Tuskgutter!
Bring the great boar’s head to Vekkel Benzen!
Excellent bow with six magic arrows offered,
As well as a share in some wonderful head cheese!_



The bounty board inside Oleg’s post looked to offer plenty of opportunities for a group of intrepid explorers.  Stevhan carefully detached and folded each of the flyers before tucking them neatly into his cloak.  You never knew when a few extra coins in your pocket might make the difference between life and death.  The ranger then wandered back over to where his companions were discussing their next course of action.

“So it’s decided then?”  Velox was saying.  “We head for the Thorn River and try to find the bandits’ camp?”
“It’s part of our charter,” Davrim shrugged.  “We kill two birds with one stone by exploring the territory between here and there, and then ridding the area of those murderers.”
“Suits me,” Tungdill nodded, food from his beard spilling on the table as he did so.  “They’re a blight, and the only way to get rid of a blight is to pull it out by the roots.”
Selena stroked her snake absently.  “The dwarf is right,” she said.  “Personally, I don’t particularly care if the brigands are a threat to the so-called civilized folk, but they’re poison to the land itself.”
“Your compassion is beyond touching,” Mox smirked.  “Count me in.”
“So be it,” Velox finished.  “We’ll set out in the morning then.”
“If you’re hells-bent on taking them on,” Oleg interrupted, “might I ask one more favor of you lads and ladies?  The first time the bums came here, that bitch who was leading them took Svetlana’s wedding ring.  She acts like it’s no big deal, but I know how much it meant to her.  If you happen to come across it in their camp, I’d be grateful if you could return it to her.”
“We’ll keep our eyes open,” Velox replied.  “If it’s there, we’ll find it.”
______________________________________________________________

The following morning, as the companions packed up their gear on the four horses they’d taken from Happs and his boys, Svetlana approached them with her own request.
“You might not have noticed,” she smiled demurely, “but Oleg’s been under quite a bit of stress lately.”
“You don’t say,” Tungdill snorted.
“Well,” she continued, “I’d love nothing more than to be able to cheer him up by making him his favorite meal…moon radish soup!  The problem is, though, moon radishes are pretty scarce in these parts.  I do know of a patch that grows a day’s ride south of here.  If you’re heading for the Thorn River, it would be on your way.  If you find some, could you gather a basket for me?”
Selena rolled her eyes, but Velox nodded politely.
“It would be our pleasure, my lady,” he said.

They set out before the sun was fully above the horizon.  Tungdill and Selena rode double, as did Mox and Stevhan, while Davrim and Velox, being the largest, each had their own mount.  The first day’s travel out of Oleg’s was a largely uneventful trek across the verdant grasslands of the Green Belt.  By the next morning, however, they had reached the edge of the Narlmarches, the vast forest that stretched south and west across the Stolen Lands.  The trees were dense, and consisted of oaks, beech and rushleaf, but they were crisscrossed with game trails and clearings which made the going somewhat easier.  As the group approached one such clearing, they began to hear odd, moaning sounds coming from directly ahead.  Quietly, they dismounted and crept as stealthily as they could through the undergrowth.  Stevhan carefully parted the branches and peered through.  What he saw struck him as simultaneously surreal and comical.  Four, small reptilian creatures lay sprawled on their backs, their bellies round and bloated.  Scattered about them lay dozens of half-eaten radishes.
“I think we found Svetlana’s radish patch,” he whispered to his companions, “but it looks like somebody else got here first.”
The others snickered as they saw the odd sight.
“Kobolds,” Selena said.  “Weak, cowardly.  They’ll probably flee at the sight of us.”

The six of them stepped into the clearing, Stevhan clearing his throat as they did so.  The kobolds squeaked and scrambled to their feet, grabbing their spears that lay beside them.
“Can you speak to them?”  Stevhan turned to Selena and asked.
“Watch out!” she shouted in warning.
The ranger spun, crouching low and drawing his sword reflexively as he did so.  The kobolds were charging.  Cursing, he lunged forward and drove his blade through the belly of the first one.  The twang of Davrim’s bow sounded from behind him as an arrow embedded itself in the eye of the second.  Stevhan was up and moving before the first two bodies hit the ground.  He swept his blade wide in front of him and disemboweled the third, but before he could turn his attention to the last kobold, a small clap of thunder pealed above him.  When he looked up, he saw the same miniature thunderhead Tungdill had summoned against the bandits.  A small lightning bolt forked out and struck the kobold in the chest.  It grunted weakly as its eyes rolled back into its head, and it crumpled.
_____________________________________________________________

“It’s a shame we had to kill most of them,” Stevhan said as he showed the others the flyer he’d taken from Oleg.  “They might have been able to tell us something about their tribe.”
“This one’s waking up,” Tungdill said, nudging the groaning kobold with the toe of his boot.  “Maybe the witch’s snake can loosen his tongue.”
Selena shrugged.  “How about I just ask him first?”
She knelt down next to the wide-eyed creature, and thought she spoke in a soft voice, the language she used was harsh and sibilant.
“Are you of the Sootscale tribe?” she asked.
“Sootscale’s are mighty!” the little reptile shrieked.  “Not afraid of big folk!”
“I’m sure,” Selena smiled.  “How many of you are there?”
The kobold wrinkled his forehead.  “More than two,” he replied, nodding defiantly.
“Tell him we’ll let him go,” Velox said.  “Tell him we want to make peace with his people, and to tell them we were merciful.”
Selena relayed the message, and the kobold leaped to his feet and darted for the trees, casting a fearful glance back over his shoulder as he ran.
______________________________________________________________


“Here,” Stevhan said from where he crouched by the banks of a swift flowing river.  “There are hoof prints in the mud.  They’re several days old, but I can still track them.”
He mounted up again, and the companions continued along the forest trail, albeit at a stealthier pace.  A short time later, Stevhan held up a hand silently, bringing them to a halt.  He pointed ahead to where the trees thinned into a small clearing.  At the far side stood a wagon, a metallic glint shining from its bed.  The ranger’s eyes began flickering through the trees until they finally settled on a fallen log about fifty paces away.  He was just opening his mouth to warn his companions when he heard a sharp, whistling sound as something small and round landed in their midst…a stone of some sort.  A moment later it exploded with a deafening thunderclap of sound.  

Chaos broke loose around the group.  Stevhan and Tungdill’s ears rang with a dull roar in the wake of the explosion.  The horse that the dwarf and Selena were riding reared and bolted, throwing the pair from the saddle.  Davrim’s horse lunged away as well, but the half-orc was able to land on his feet as he hastily dismounted the panicked animal.  Stevhan and Velox spurred their own mounts forward, towards the brigand who was now fleeing from behind the log towards the shelter of the trees.  Velox reached him first, his horse leaping the log easily.  The young oracle heard his father’s voice fill his ears as the spirit of the Lady overwhelmed him.  He cut down the running man, then whirled his mount round as he heard a chorus of hoarse shouts from the trees to his left.  There, a half-dozen more bandits appeared, bows in their hands and arrows knocked.  Behind them, a woman dressed in leathers and carrying a gleaming axe in each hand barked orders in their ears.  In an instant, the brigands let fly with a volley.  One of them struck Mox, but she rolled with the impact, dismounting her horse as if she were born to the saddle and landing deftly on her feet in a crouch, clutching at the shaft protruding from her shoulder.  Her face clenched in pain, she paid no attention to the ravening group of bandits.  Instead, she scanned the trees nearby.  That’s where the thunderstone had come from.  Then she saw him, hunkered down on a small platform amid the thick branches of an oak.  

Tungdill and Selena climbed to their feet, bruised, but no worse for wear.  In fact, their prone positions were probably all that had saved them from being impaled by  stray arrows.  When the dwarf saw the clustered bandits, a broad smile split his scraggly face.
“Gotcha just where I want ya!” he crowed.  
He pulled what looked like a chicken’s foot from his pocket and began muttering under his breath as he scratched at the ground with it.  
“I don’t believe what I’m seeing!”  Selena exclaimed in disbelief as she saw the results of the druid’s casting.  
The vines, grass, and underbrush around the bandits suddenly came to writhing life, wrapping around their feet and legs with grasping tendrils.  They cursed roundly as they struggled to free themselves, but unfortunately for Tungdill, his actions had also caught the attention of the bandits’ leader.
“Kill the dwarf!” she shouted.
Momentarily ignoring their entanglement, her men turned towards the druid and let fly with another salvo.  Three arrows struck Tungdill, two in the chest, and the third in his thigh.  With a grunt, he fell heavily into the brush.

Kressle was having a grand time!  The leader of the brigands had banditry in her blood.  Born in the River Kingdoms, throughout her life she had never spent more than a week in one spot.  Even as a child she was already helping her parents rob travelers and rough up pilgrims for some quick cash.  When her parents were killed after an ambush, she headed north to seek her fortune, only to end up being captured by a group of bandits herself.  When two of them lost hands and fingers to her axes, however, their thoughts turned from rape to escape.  Kressle followed the wounded ruffians back to their fort.  Their leader, impressed by her skill and bravery, slew her attackers and recruited her on the spot.  She moved up the ranks in a matter of months, until the boss sent her to run the Thorn River camp.  She knew when that idiot Happs failed to return from the trading post, that it would only be a matter of time before she’d have to deal with whomever’d done him in.  She was just glad they’d saved her the trouble of hunting them down.  
“Let’s take it to’em, boys!” she hooted as she tore her feet free of the writhing undergrowth.  

Davrim turned towards the approaching bandits, swinging his sword in  broad loops as he waited for them to reach the edge of the spell Tungdill had cast.  He quickly realized his mistake as he saw one of the bandits come to a halt not ten paces away as he drew a bead on the big half-orc with his bow.  Davrim tried to duck, but he was too slow, and the arrow smacked meatily into his backside.   Stevhan moved to go to Davrim’s side, but when he looked back at Tungdill, he was torn.  He didn’t know if the dwarf was dead or alive, and before he could make up his mind, two of the outlaws had freed themselves from the entanglement and stood between him and Davrim.  The ranger slid from his horse, for he was not accustomed to fighting from a saddle.  As he did so, however, the two men rushed him.  He spun like a snake and parried the first blow, but the second slipped beneath his blade and gouged across his ribs.  Hissing in pain, he swung his sword backhanded and slashed the throat of the nearest brigand.  

Mox still played cat-and-mouse with the brigand crouched in the tree.  She darted quickly among the tree trunks as arrows thunked into the boles around her.  Finally, she reached a spot where she had a clear view of the brigand.  He turned as he saw her, pulling his bowstring all the way back to his jaw.  Mox quickly brought her hands up and spoke a word.  A streaking blue projectile flew from her fingers and struck the bandit in the forehead just as his fingers prepared to release his arrow.  He tumbled from the tree as if pole-axed, and struck the ground fifteen-feet below with a sickening crunch.

Davrim was surrounded.  Four of the brigands had freed themselves and flanked him on all sides, jabbing and feinting with their swords.  As he turned this way and that, trying to deflect the blows, one penetrated his defenses, stabbing into his knee.  His leg began to buckle, yet he struck out with a cry of rage, disemboweling his nearest assailant.  He brought his sword up defensively, trying to ward off what he knew was his eminent death, and then he heard her cry.  Kressle rushed at him, her axes crossed over her chest.  She swung one with deadly efficiency, slicing the half-orc’s hamstring and sweeping him completely off his feet.  As she stood over him, poised for the kill, Davrim heard thundering hooves approaching.  He and the bandit leader turned at the same time to see Velox bearing down on them.  The oracle leaped from the saddle at the last minute, driving his sword into the chest of one of the brigands as he landed.  As he rolled to his feet, however, Kressle was on him.  He caught one of her descending axes on the guard of his blade, but the other hacked into his shoulder.  

“Still alive, I see,” Selena smiled down at Tungdill.  
“I’m tougher than I look,” the dwarf wheezed.
“Looks like our friends may be in some trouble,” the witch observed.  “Will you be ok if I leave you?”
“I’ve done pretty good on my own for a long time,” Tungdill chuckled weakly.  “I s’pose I’ll make it a few minutes longer.”
Selena nodded and ghosted away through the trees.  As she departed, the injured druid began another chant, and as he did so, a dense mist rose from the ground around him, enveloping him in its concealing layers.
Selena moved quickly, passing Stevhan just as he dispatched his last opponent.  She approached the spot where Velox and Davrim still fought for their lives, and saw it was only a matter of time before they were overpowered.  Velox had drawn blood on the female bandit, but she still fought like a dervish.  Her last two surviving men both looked hale and hearty.  Selena stopped several paces away and drew a strand of beads and feathers from her bodice.  She focused her thoughts and raised both hands, her fingers forked in the sign of the Eye.  The two bandits turned towards her, their gazes unfocusing.  In unison, they swooned and fell to the ground, sound asleep and snoring.  Kressle gaped in rage and surprise, and in that moment when she dropped her defenses, Velox struck, burying his sword to the hilt in her chest.  

Sometime later, when the sleeping bandits awoke and found Kressle dead, and themselves surrounded by six very unhappy looking characters, they immediately, and wisely, surrendered.


----------



## rjohanek

Ahhh, JollyDoc.  It's soooo good to have you back!


----------



## JollyDoc

SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER (on Monday)

1)  Sometimes bandits are more valuable alive than dead, as the explorers learn when they question their captives about their boss...someone the group feels they are some time away from being capable of facing.

2)  A long forgotten temple is discovered...along with its very strange guardian

3)  The dangers of the Green Belt don't just lie in bandits.  Sometimes the occasional, hungry predator wanders into camp.  Tungdill plays hero as he faces off against an owlbear with nothing more than a stick...

4)  Playful faeries aren't on the list of potential allies.

5)  Someon's killing trappers...and some disreputable trapper is laying some very deadly traps

6)  A return to Oleg's finds new visitors, and new quests offered.


----------



## Zen_Pollo

J-D

FANTASTIC READ!  Keep up the good work!


----------



## R-Hero

JollyDoc said:


> WANTED!
> Tuskgutter!
> Bring the great boar’s head to Vekkel Benzen!
> Excellent bow with six magic arrows offered,
> *As well as a share in some wonderful head cheese! *





Please tell me this was a Jollydoc original...(Laughed till it hurt)


----------



## JollyDoc

R-Hero said:


> Please tell me this was a Jollydoc original...(Laughed till it hurt)




Believe it or not, this was actually a Paizo original, though I'd love to take credit for it!


----------



## Zanticor

Hurray for Jolly! Thanks for starting up again. I'm interested in the builds. My group is still firmly in 3.5 territory so I'm very interested in what Pathfinder does with characters in practice. Only strait PHB classes? Or is the lure of the PRC still to strong?
Keep it coming! 

Zanticor


----------



## JollyDoc

Zanticor said:


> Hurray for Jolly! Thanks for starting up again. I'm interested in the builds. My group is still firmly in 3.5 territory so I'm very interested in what Pathfinder does with characters in practice. Only strait PHB classes? Or is the lure of the PRC still to strong?
> Keep it coming!
> 
> Zanticor




Well, Joachim is playing an Oracle, Supar is playing an Inquisitor, and another player is taking on the Witch.  

Hey guys, anyone care to post your builds?


----------



## Joachim

I'll bite first...

EDIT:  Just noticed that 7th level revelation should say Maneuver Mastery (Overrun) and not (Trip)...a thousand pardons.


----------



## Faren

*...studded leather pajamas?*

Thanks Joachim!
Is a breastplate heavy armor or medium in Pathfinder? I know it's medium in 3.5, but I'm still new to Pathfinder. Also, fun read JollyDoc!


----------



## Joachim

Breastplate is medium...they upped the AC bonus of all medium and heavy armors by 1 in PF.  And the Studded Leather Pajamas are what I wear to bed at night as I can't wear my BP...that is, until I obtain a mithril set (which shall be one of my first purchases).


----------



## JollyDoc

BORDERLANDS

“Is this it then?”  Velox asked as he paced calmly before the two bound brigands.  “Is this all of you?”
“N..no!” one of them stammered, as he looked nervously around at the bodies of his former comrades.  “We’ll tell you whatever you want to know!”
“I’m sure you will,” Velox smiled, not unkindly.  “Where can we find the rest of your band?”
“At the Stag Lord’s fort!” the bandit blurted.  “It’s about thirty miles or so south, on the shore of the Tuskwater!”
“Stag Lord?”  Davrim asked.  “Who’s he?”
“A monster of a man!” the second bandit said, eyes wide.  “He’s a deadeye with a bow, he is, and I once saw him crush a man’s hand to mush in one fist!”
“Why do they call him the Stag Lord?”  Velox asked.
“It’s ‘cause of that creepy helmet he wears!” the bandit replied.  “I never seen him without it on.  Some of the other boys think he ain’t got no face under it, but not me!  I think that weird helm is his face!”
“How many men does he have with him?”  Stevhan asked.
“Hard to say,” the first bandit said.  “So many folks come and go around there, we have to use us a phrase as a kind of password to get inside.”
“Really?”  Velox quirked one eyebrow.
“Yeah, yeah!” the man nodded vigorously.  “Now lemmee see…what was it?  Oh yeah!  ‘By the Bloody Bones of St. Gilmorg, who wants to know?’  Don’t ask me who St. Gilmorg is, though.”
“Well,” Velox nodded.  “You’ve both been very helpful.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to discuss with my companions what’s to be done with you.”
“Wait!  Wait!” the bandit cried.  “There’s something else!  That booze you found in the wagon?”
Velox glanced towards the crates they’d discovered earlier.
“That was meant for the Stag Lord,” the brigand continued.  “He’s a bloody drunk, he is! Half the man he used to be, and ain’t never been right in the head!  A few weeks back, he punched my horse just for spittin’ in the yard!  Still, even drunk out of his mind, he’s still got a fair amount of fight in him.”
“Again,” Velox said, “your cooperation is appreciated.  Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“So we kill’em now, right?”  Tungdill said as the companions huddled together.
“We’d be well within the bounds of the law,” Selena agreed.
“True,” said Velox, “and no doubt morally justified, yet it doesn’t feel like the right choice to me.”
Davrim nodded.  “Then I trust your judgment.  You have been touched by the Lady.”
“That doesn’t make my judgment infallible,” Velox smiled.  “It’s just a feeling.  I don’t think these two will pose any great threat on their own.  Even if they were to flee back to this Stag Lord, then we’ll deal with them when we deal with him.”
“Whatever,” Tungdill threw up his hands, as he stomped away.  “You city folk are all crazy, you ask me.”
“He’ll be fine,” Stevhan said.  “He’s just used to a different way of life.  If you think we should spare these two, then I can live with it.  I just hope we don’t come to regret it.”

In the end, the two brigands were set free with their promise to leave the Stolen Lands and never return.  Only time would tell if their salvation was justified or not.
____________________________________________________________

During another day of slogging through the dense underbrush of the Narlmarches, Stevhan brought the group to a halt as he stooped to examine what appeared to be just another game trail.  
“There’s something here,” he said after several moments.  “It’s overgrown, but there used to be a real path here.  It leads up towards that ridge.”

The group dismounted and led their horses up the narrow, steep path.  Some time later, the thick tangle of brambles they’d been hacking through gave way into a large clearing, its border partially defined by ruined stone pillars.  The far side of the clearing was dominated by a looming, upthrust ridge of rock nearly three-hundred feet across, and rising to a moss-topped height of at least one-hundred feet at the center.  The side of the towering boulder was carved in the likeness of an immense elk, its antlers drooping down from its weathered face to frame a wide cave entrance.  A flight of stone steps led up to the entrance from the clearing, the stones thickly encrusted with layers of moss.  A long, oval pool sat in the middle of the clearing, its waters thick with algae.

Stevhan, his eyes wide in awe, began walking slowly towards the steps.
“Stevhan…!”  Velox began.
“Wait,” Tungdill said softly as he grabbed the oracle’s arm in grip like iron.  “Let the boy be.  This place is sacred to Old Dead Eye, Lord of the Hunt.  He might not wear it on his sleeve, but Stevhan, and a lot of simple, country folk, hold Erastil in pretty high regard.”
“Oh…,” Velox blinked in understanding, “I see.”

When Stevhan reached the steps, he knelt and bowed his head in silent prayer.  A moment later, the ranger’s eyes snapped back up in shock and surprise as his prayer was answered by a bellowing roar from inside the cave.  A large, lumbering shape moved within the shadows, and quickly resolved itself into a huge grizzly bear.  The beast reared on its back feet and bellowed again, its claws pawing the air.  Stevhan’s astonishment turned quickly to divine enthrallment.
“My Lord!” he gasped.  “We meant no disrespect!  We come only to pay homage, and to honor you!”
“Watch out, boy!”  Tungdill shouted as he shoved past Velox, but Stevhan didn’t hear him.  He was rapt.  “That animal’s sick!”
As the others looked, what the druid said became obvious.  Foam flew in frothy streamers from the bear’s mouth, and its eyes wept with thick, green pus.  Large patches of its fur were missing, and when it walked, is seemed to list from side-to-side.  It dropped to all fours again and began trotting quickly towards Stevhan.  Tungdill threw out his hands and barked a guttural chant.  A small bolt of electricity sizzled from the air in front of the bear, stinging it on the nose.  The creature drew back in momentary surprise, and that’s when Selena wove her own hex.  She held a stone suspended from a length of twine before her, gently rocking it back and forth.  The bear’s eyes glazed over as it watched the pendulum, and then slowly it collapsed onto its side, asleep.
“That won’t hold it for long!” the witch shouted.
Velox nodded and started forward, his sword rasping from its sheath as he moved.
“No!”  Stevhan shouted.  “What are you doing?”
Before he could stop the oracle, however, Velox struck, impaling the bear with his blade.  The animal howled in pain and rage as it surged back to its feet, the sword still stuck in its belly.  It was dying, but seemed not to know it.  It reared above the young man, and that’s when a gout of scorching flames struck its head, sprouting from Selena’s outstretched fingers.  The bear fell back, and Velox wrenched his sword free, and then struck again, and again.  As the great bruin collapsed, it made an almost human sigh of relief, and then seemed to fold in on itself, transforming first into an incredibly old-appearing human man with a look of peace in his eyes, and then crumbling to dust.  A moment later, the entire shrine seemed to grow more vibrant and colorful.  Even the water in the pool became crystal clear.

“This was supposed to happen,” Stevhan said quietly as he gazed about in wonder.  “It feels…right.”
“What, exactly, just happened?”  Mox asked, her face a mixture of confusion and disgust.
“I can’t…explain it,” the ranger shook his head.  “I don’t know what that man was, or why he was here, but now that he’s gone this place seems…whole again.  I think we’ll be safe here for the night.”
______________________________________________________________

Later that night, Velox and Tungdill stood first watch.
“Did you hear something?” the oracle asked.
“Probably just an animal,” the dwarf grunted.  “Tends to happen when you’re in the woods, city boy.”
“If it’s an animal, then it’s a big one,” Velox snapped.  “I’m going to check it out.”

He’d gone no further than the shrine entrance, when he quickly started back-pedaling.
“What?”  Tungdill asked, his hand going to the cudgel at his belt.  “What do ya see?”
Velox didn’t reply, nor did he have to.  A huge shape lumbered into the shrine.  At first, Tungdill thought it was another bear, but then he saw the beak-like maw, and the fur topped with feathers, not to mention the six-inch talons that gleamed darkly in the firelight.
“By my beard!” the dwarf bellowed.  “An owlbear!  Back off, boy!”
He drew his cudgel and rushed forward, chanting as he ran.  In a flash of light, a snarling dog appeared out of nowhere, snapping and biting at the monster’s flank.  Tungdill swung his club with both hands…and it promptly snapped in two when it struck the owlbear’s thick hide.  The beast screeched and swung its log-like arms in a wide arc, its claws slashing deeply across the dwarf’s belly.  Tungdill’s eyes widened as he looked down in shocked disbelief at the gaping wound.  The blood drained from his face as he fell at the owlbear’s feet.  The monster then turned with a speed that belied its size and snapped the little dog in half with its beak.
“Tungdill!” Velox cried.  He charged in, his sword cutting into the owlbear’s leg, but instead of retreating, it simply turned and back-handed him.  By this time, the others were wide awake and scrambling to their feet.  As the creature advanced on Velox, Mox hurled arcane fire at it, causing it to lurch backwards.  Stevhan rushed into the opening, his own blade flashing.  A moment later, Davrim joined him.  Under the relentless barrage of the three warriors, the owlbear continued to flail blindly, but ultimately fell like a great tree.  

“The pool!”  Stevhan shouted as he ran to Tungdill’s side.  “We have to get him to the pool!”
He and Velox lifted the barely-breathing dwarf and carried him outside, where they quickly submerged him in the moonlit pool.  Within seconds, his terrible wounds stopped bleeding, and then closed completely.  His breathing eased, and his eyes fluttered open.
“So much fer bein’ safe here for the night,” he muttered.
____________________________________________________________

“What do you make of this?”  Mox asked.
“Freak accident?”  Davrim offered
“Poetic justice,” Selena smirked.
Tungdill just burped.
The group had stumbled across a collapsed deadfall along the south bank of the Thorn River, and pinned beneath it was a body.  The man appeared to have been dead for several days, and his clothes and gear identified him as a trapper.  
“I think this was deliberate,” Stevhan said.  He crouched next to the logs, the rope that had held them in his hands.  “Look at this.  This didn’t snap.  It was cut by something very sharp…sharper even than a blade.”
Tungdill shrugged.  “Who cares?  He’s dead now, and there’s no one here to arrest for it.”
“We bury him,” Velox said.
“What?”  Selena shouted.  “Why?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do,” Davrim said as he bent to pull the corpse free.  
____________________________________________________________

“God’s damn it all!”  Tungdill roared.  The dwarf lay flat on his back where his horse had thrown him.  The animal itself was still bucking violently as it struggled to free its leg from the bear trap.  “That’s the fourth blasted one of those we’ve found!”
Stevhan soothed the horse as he knelt down to free its leg.
“The fourth unmarked one, you mean,” the ranger noted.  “Most reputable trappers would mark them just so this sort of thing wouldn’t happen.”
“Maybe that’s what happened to our friend back there,” Selena sneered.  “Maybe these are his traps, and maybe somebody else didn’t take kindly to his lack of manners, and gave him a little taste of his own medicine.  I’m sure glad we took the time to bury him.”
____________________________________________________________

It had been two full weeks since the companions had last seen Oleg’s, and things there had gotten…busier.  Four small tents had been erected near the stables, and three men dressed in soldiers’ harness busied themselves nearby.  They stopped their work and watched the group closely as they road into the yard, their hands resting casually on their sword pommels.  
“My friends!”  Oleg bellowed from the door of the main hall.  “Your back!  Svetlana!  They’re back!”
“Thank the gods!”  Svetlana cried, clapping her hands happily.
“These are for you, my lady,” Velox bowed as he offered her the basket of moon radishes.
“You found them!” she laughed.  
“Moon radish stew??”  Oleg asked, his mouth watering.  
“You can thank our friends,” his wife smiled.  
“Ah, Sergeant Garess,” Oleg said, turning at the approach of another soldier, “these are the ones I told you about.”
“Kesten Garess,” the man said, removing his glove as he extended his hand.  “It seems the Swordlords are in your debt for the protection you offered to these fine citizens.”
“Sure you would’a done the same,” Tungdill grumbled, “if you’d’a been here.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Sergeant,” Velox said as he gripped the man’s hand, pointedly ignoring the dwarf.  “We have some further bandit news to report to you.”

Garess listened intently, and nodded with approval as the companions related their encounter with the Thorn River bandits, and at the news they had learned of the Stag Lord.
“Well done again,” he said.  “So, what do you intend to do about this bandit lord?”
“What do we intend to do?”  Mox asked incredulously.  “Sergeant, aren’t you a soldier of Restov, sworn to protect its interests?”
“As are you,” Garess said, tapping the charter Velox had given him to inspect.  “I think Restov’s interests are best served by our remaining here, and protecting the only going concern in the Greenbelt.”
“Typical,” Selena snorted.
“Don’t worry, Sergeant,” Davrim said.  “We fully intend to take the fight to this so-called Stag Lord, but we’ve also still got a lot of ground to cover between here and there.  By the way, what did you do with Happs, the prisoner we left here?”
“Oh him,” Garess said.  “We gave him a fair trial…followed by a first-class hanging.”
“I like the way you think, Sergeant,” the half-orc smiled.
____________________________________________________________

As it turned out, the soldiers weren’t the only newcomers in residence at Oleg’s.  A middle-aged man, who identified himself as Jhod Kavken, quickly made the acquaintance of the companions once they’d stepped inside the main hall.  
“I’m very pleased to meet you,” he grinned, shaking each of their hands enthusiastically in turn.   “I had heard of the charters the Swordlords were issuing, and I came here to offer my assistance, but by the time I’d arrived, you’d already left.  More’s the pity.  I wish I could have been with you when you showed those bandits what-for!”
“I’m sure,” Tungdill muttered.  
“What is it that you said you do?”  Mox asked, batting her long lashes playfully.
Jhod cleared his throat, his face slightly flushed.  “I…uh, I’m a priest, actually.  That’s another reason I came to the Greenbelt.  I had heard that there might be several abandoned shrines or temples to Erastil in the region.  You haven’t come across any such things in your travels, have you?”
“As a matter of fact, we have,” Stevhan said.  He related their discovery of the temple and its bear guardian, who transformed upon his death.  “Does that mean anything to you?” he asked the priest as he finished.
Jhod’s face remained neutral.  “No, but that is a truly amazing tale.  Tell me, when you venture out again, might I accompany you back to this temple?  I’d love to resanctify it in Erastil’s name.  I have some skill in healing.  I’d be happy to offer you my services in exchange.”
“Of course, Father,” Velox replied.  “We’ll probably remain here a few more days, but when we leave, you are free to come with us, as long as you are aware of the dangers we may face.”
__________________________________________________________

They spent the better part of a week at Oleg’s, resupplying and taking a much-needed rest.  When the time came for them to set out again, Kesten Garess approached them.
“While you are abroad, I would ask that you do me a service,” he began.
Tungdill rolled his eyes.  “Didn’t know I signed up to be everybody’s errand-boy.  For an unexplored wilderness, there sure are a lot of folks who need favors around here.”
Garess eyed him coldly.  “As I was saying, I worked with a Varisian mercenary named Falgrim Sneeg some months back.  During the mission, he robbed our company and fled into the Greenbelt, presumably to join the bandits there.  If you happen to run across a man fitting his description, I’d like him returned to me, alive if possible, so that I make take him back to Restov for trial.  I can offer you your pick of four quality weapons for your trouble.”
“We can’t make any promises,” Velox replied, “but we’ll keep an eye out, and if we find him, we’ll do our best to bring him in.”

The group set out once more, accompanied by Jhod Kavken.  They intended to take the priest back to the shrine, but they planned to take a different route, hoping to map some new territory along the way.  On their second day out from Oleg’s, they came upon a small hut set upon a low hill on a lonely moor.  As they approached, they saw smoke coming from the chimney, and light leaking from behind the shutters.
“Hello the house!”  Stevhan called out.
The door of the hut banged open, and a shabby, disheveled old man lurched out, eyes wild and goggling.
“Who’s there?” he cried.  
“We mean no harm, old man,” Stevhan replied.  “We’re simply exploring the region.  We set out from Oleg’s trading post yesterday.”
“Oleg, you say?” the man barked.   “Well I suppose you’re alright then.  Come on up!”

The hut was a meager affair, its rafters hung with drying herbs of all sorts, its table covered with all sorts of alchemical paraphernalia.
“Name’s Bokken,” the old man said tersely after the companions had introduced themselves.  “Make potions, that I do.  Sell’em to Oleg when I get around there.  You interested in buying?”
He shuffled out his wares, and each one of them had a distinctive, pleasant berry aroma.
“Bet you’re wondering how I do that, ain’t you?” Bokken laughed.  “I’ll tell you my secret:  fangberries!”
“Let me guess,” Tungdill sighed, “they don’t grow around here, do they?  And I bet you’re getting short on supplies.”
“That I am!”  Bokken barked.  “You’re a smart one, for a dwarf!  Tell you what old Bokken will do for you…you get me some fangberries…wash’em first, mind you!  I don’t deal in dirty berries.  You do that, and I’ll set you up with a special discount on any of my wares.  What d’you say?”
“If we run across any, we’ll be sure to gather some for you,” Velox said politely.
“Fine!  Fine!”  Bokken laughed.  “Oh, and if you see my brother out there…well, you’d best just steer clear of him!”
“Your brother?”  Stevhan asked.
“That’s what I said, didn’t I?”  Bokken snapped.  He held up his right hand, where the little finger was missing.  “Bastard took it off me the last time he hit my mother, Desna rest her soul!  Then he took off south to go live in a hollow tree or some such, rather than face the guards, coward!   After my parents passed, I came here to look for him, but the Greenbelt’s a dangerous place, if you haven’t noticed.  So I just settled down here instead.  Point is, if you find an old bastard livin’ in a hollow tree, don’t trust him!  And if you kill him, tell him his brother sends his regards!”
__________________________________________________________

The grasslands gave way to hills once more as the group angled back towards the Narlmarches.  As they passed through one particularly desolate stretch, they began to notice the occasional animal carcasses they were accustomed to seeing, were becoming more frequent.  Before long, the ground was literally littered with bones, everything from boar, deer and bear, to some that looked suspiciously human.  Suddenly, the ground beside Selena’s horse simply erupted, and a black and red spider the size of a pony leaped out at the witch.  Reacting purely on instinct, Selena threw out one hand, a hex springing to her lips.  Electricity crackled around her fingers, and as she touched the leaping spider, the energy completely engulfed the beast.  It fell to its back, legs curled in, twitching for a moment before becoming completely still.
“Neat trick!”  Mox mock-applauded.  “You’re just full of those quaint little hedge-mage cantrips, aren’t you?”
Selena’s eyes smoldered, and Sinister’s tongue flickered in agitation as the viper sensed its mistress’s displeasure.  
“Look here!”  Stevhan said.  The ranger had dismounted to make sure the spider was dead, and then moved to examine the hole it had come from.  It was a deep shaft, but the webbing layered upon its walls made it an easy climb.  At the bottom lay several more skeletons, but also one relatively fresh corpse…that of a man dressed in leather armor.  A silver stag amulet hung from around his neck, and a roll of parchment was tucked inside one boot.  When Stevhan unfolded it, he found a crude drawing of a claw-shaped tree on a hill.  A single large X had been marked beside the tree.
“Looks like we found ourselves a treasure map!”


----------



## EroGaki

“Let me guess,” Tungdill sighed, “they don’t grow around here, do they?  And I bet you’re getting short on supplies.”


I laughed so hard when I read that. Kingmaker is has some MMO aspects, eh? I'm liking it more and more.

Also, I have a question about Mox. Who is she? I don't recall her back story being posted. Did I miss it somehow?


----------



## JollyDoc

EroGaki said:


> Also, I have a question about Mox. Who is she? I don't recall her back story being posted. Did I miss it somehow?




Mox's player joined us late, and I haven't had a chance to get her backstory up yet.  Essentially, she is from a minor noble family, on the run from an arranged marriage, as well as her perception that she would be labeled a freak since the manifestation of her sorcerous powers.


----------



## JollyDoc

SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER (2 days late)

1)  Tuskgutter is bearded in his lair...and is found to have a glass jaw

2)  A potential new ally is found...if only they could speak his language

3)  When their explorations take them into the swamp lands, the company finds the local fauna both hungry, and extremely deadly.

4)  The mysteries of the forest deepen with both evidence of the divine, and evil so foul, it's capable of taking the life of something pure and unspoiled.

5)  The mystery of what exactly a tatzlewyrm is is solved...though Selena's not happy with the revelation

6)  Gathering fangberries is not a beign task, and the moors under a full moon are no place to be caught alone


----------



## Zanticor

Sounds like a lot of death or near death to me! Is Jolly upping the challenges again or is it just pathfinder  disrespecting player rights to a fair fight again? Crossing my fingers for some continuity in character development...

Zanticor


----------



## carborundum

Loving it already! Makes me want to TPK my Savage Tide party and start a Kingmaker game!

One question JD... with the players wandering around and bumping into stuff don't they tend to be fully charged and rested for every encounter? And if so, how do you handle the regular 'nova' fights?


----------



## JollyDoc

carborundum said:


> Loving it already! Makes me want to TPK my Savage Tide party and start a Kingmaker game!
> 
> One question JD... with the players wandering around and bumping into stuff don't they tend to be fully charged and rested for every encounter? And if so, how do you handle the regular 'nova' fights?




Well, yes they are, but the group only just reached 3rd level, so "fully charged" is relative.  When you're low level, you're just one critical hit away from death!  At this level, even the random encounters can be life or death, as evidenced this past week, in which the PC's were forced to flee one random encounter, and almost lost Stevhan to another.


----------



## JollyDoc

THE WIND IN THE WILLOWS

It wasn’t hard to find the spot marked on the map.  The lone tree was the only one they’d seen in a two-mile radius of the lonely hill.  It looked to have been struck by lightning, and its bare branches reached up towards the clouds like a burned and deformed claw.  Stevhan knelt by its roots, and quickly discovered a spot where the earth had been disturbed…not recently, but still plain to the ranger.  He didn’t have to dig too far before he found a leather-wrapped bundle.  The ‘trove’ didn’t amount to much…a  well-made dagger, a slim, iron wand, and a water-logged spellbook with most of the pages ruined and illegible.  Still, it was just one more mystery that the Stolen Lands unwillingly gave up, and only served to remind the companions that many more, deeper secrets were yet to be discovered…
___________________________________________________________

The hills of the Kamelands began to level off as the ground sloped once more down towards the dark forest of the Narlmarches.  As the six travelers passed a particularly rocky crag, Stevhan’s sharp eyes spied a narrow crack in its face.  
“Probably nothing,” he said.  “Most likely another bear cave, though I don’t smell any musk.  Let’s take a look.”
The crack gave onto a sizeable cave, empty and with no signs of occupation, but the far wall sparkled in the light that seeped in from the outside.   
“Hmm,” Stevhan mused, “I wonder what that might be?  Looks metallic.”
“It’s gold,” Tungdill said flatly.
“What??”  Mox asked, her eyes alight.  “How can you be sure?”
“In case you haven’t noticed,” the druid snorted, “I’m a dwarf.  You can take the dwarf out of the mountains, but apparently you can’t take the mountains out of the dwarf.”
He turned in disgust and left the cave.
“He’s not exactly…comfortable with his heritage,” Stevhan explained.
“Whatever,” Mox waved him off.  “We’ve found a gold mine!  I think this little venture may prove more profitable than I’d imagined!
_____________________________________________________________

The Narlmarches again.  During another day slogging through the dense forest, the explorers came across another deadfall, this one, apparently, natural.  The branches of the dead trees had formed a sort of  cave, and as they drew near to it, an strong animal scent wafted out to them.  The horses began to shy away just as a guttural snort and a high-pitched squeal came from the cave opening.  Then, a boar roughly the size of a horse itself barreled out into the daylight, its yellow tusks and piggy eyes flashing.  The horses reared and neighed in terror, their eyes rolling.  Stevhan leaped from the saddle and quickly rolled to his feet, his bowstring already drawn back.  He loosed, and the shaft struck Tuskgutter directly between the shoulders, which only seemed to enrage the boar more.  Mox slid from her horse as well, but the deftness and skill with which she did it looked as if she’d been born to the saddle.  Landing on her feet, she calmly spoke her spell and flung a volley of arcane missiles at the charging beast.  It veered away from Davrim at the last minute, and the half-orc swung his sword down with both hands, cleanly decapitating Tuskgutter.  His body continued to run for several more yards before it realized it was dead.
____________________________________________________________

East of the Skunk River, where the ground began to slump away into a soggy mire, a pair of ruined stone buildings jutted from the muddy ground.  The companions stood on high ground overlooking the mire as Stevhan scanned the area for signs of life.  
“Looks clear,” the ranger said quietly.  “Still, let’s try and move in quietly.”
That plan lasted all of six seconds, right up until Davrim stumbled over a protruding stump and sent a torrent of rubble tumbling down the slope.  A loud, barking roar sounded from the larger of the two buildings, as a large, slime-covered toad-like creature with walrus-like tusks loped out of it.  From the second building came another creature that superficially looked human, but on closer inspection also closely resembled a frog.
“It’s a boggard!”  Tungdill shouted.  “Evil, cannibalistic bastards!”
The dwarf raised his cudgel and began charging down the hill.
“Truce!  Truce!” the boggard croaked in Common, dropping its own weapon into the mud.
“Tungdill, wait!”  Velox shouted as he ran down the dwarf.  “Wait!  He’s surrendering!”
“Me Garrum!” the boggard barked.  “Go!”
Tungdill stopped several feet from the frog-man, his face beet-red.
“His kind EAT people!”  he screamed into the oracle’s face, spit flying from his lips.  “Just look at his bloody hand!  They even eat their own kind!”
The boggard’s left hand did, indeed, end in a mangled mass.
“Hungry,” the boggard croaked, shrugging its bony shoulders.  
“See??”  Tungdill growled.
“What I see is a creature that is asking us for a truce.  I want to at least hear him out.  Still, if it will ease your mind…Davrim?  Do you mind?”
The inquisitor nodded and gripped the symbol of Iomedae that he wore around his neck, closing his eyes as he did so.  A moment later, he opened them again.
“I sense no evidence of evil intent,” he pronounced.
Garrum shrugged again and motioned inside the ruined building.  “Hungry?”

The food that Garrum had to offer was less than appetizing, but everyone, with the notable exception of Tungdill, graciously took what was offered.  In return, they gave the boggard some of the meat they’d harvested from Tuskgutter.  When Garrum saw the boar’s head, his goggle-eyes went even wider.
“Die!” he barked.  “Hungry!”
“Yes!”  Velox nodded.  “Very hungry!”
Unfortunately, as Garrum had pretty much exhausted all the Common that he knew, and none of the companions spoke Boggard, the conversation did not go much further.  They ate in silence, and after they were done, Garrum burped loudly, stood and pronounced,
“Go!”
The group packed their gear and set out again, not quite sure what they’d just been a part of, but hopeful (except for Tungdill) that’d perhaps they’d found another ally.
___________________________________________________________

That night, after fending off a couple of carnivorous frogs from a nearby pond, the group settled down for an uncomfortable night’s rest in the middle of the bog.  Velox and Tungdill stood first watch, as was usual.  The night was anything but quiet, what with all the swamp creatures calling in the darkness, but Velox sensed nothing amiss…right up until the floating, glowing skull appeared out of nowhere right beside him.  Before he could react, a sharp pulse of light from the apparition drifted across his skin, and he felt a jolt of electricity course through his entire body.  His shout of surprise and pain woke the others from their sleep with a jolt.  Davrim sat up, his sword in his hand, but when he saw what Velox was dealing with, his eyes went wide with fear.  
“Velox!” he cried.  “Run!  Now!  It’s a will-o-the-wisp!  It feeds off fear!  Run!”
The inquisitor seized his horse by the bridle and swung into the saddle.  The floating skull turned towards him, sensing his panic, and flew towards him.  He spurred his mount into the night, and behind him, his companions wasted little time doing the same.  The last thing Davrim saw before the darkness of the swamp swallowed him, was a pair of blue, glowing eyes racing through the night after him.
____________________________________________________________

The following day was spent recuperating from the harrowing night.  The encounter with the ‘wisp was a hard reminder to the companions that the Stolen Lands were a true wilderness, and not everything they encountered would take kindly to their presence.  Still, later that day, the companions made a discovery that lifted their spirits.  It was a statue of a stag-headed man, partially overgrown at the base, but towering above the surrounding shrubbery.  It was another forgotten shrine to Erastil.  Stevhan took the time to clear the debris from its base, and Tungdill silently lent a hand.  When they’d finished, the ranger knelt in prayer before his patron.  

Later that evening, as the group paused to make camp, each of them who possessed a blade found its edge honed to an unnaturally keen edge.  
“Old Dead Eye smiles on our efforts,” Stevhan smiled knowingly.

__________________________________________________________

The stink of moldering plants and a strange quiet in the sound of birdlife surrounded a somewhat sunken clearing in the forest that the companions came upon the following day.  At the center of the clearing, the soggy ground became an insect-infested, stagnant, swamp-like pond, and sprawled at its edge was what appeared, from a distance, to be a dead horse.  As the companions approached cautiously, Selena gasped, her hand going to her mouth.
“It…it’s a unicorn!” she gasped.  
The once-beautiful creature’s horn had been broken off at its brow, yet its body was strangely untouched by insects.  The stink of rot did not come from the corpse, but from the fouled waters of the pond itself.  Now, Selena was no woodland nymph.  Her mother had taught her the practical, and sometimes brutal, magics of nature, but she did not believe in senseless slaughter, especially of a creature that was such a pure representation of the natural world.  She knelt beside the dead creature, and noted that its eyes were milky.  The unicorn had been blind at the time of its death.  How could that be in a creature that was immune to the ravages of disease?  She could also see that its horn had been removed after its death, and there was no sign of obvious wounds attributable to its death.
“I think powerful necromancy was used here,” she said quietly.  “This is far beyond anything I’m experienced with.  I’d not care to meet whomever, or whatever was responsible for it.”
___________________________________________________________

As the group wound their way through the Narlmarches back towards the Kamelands, they came to another ford across the Skunk River.  Several sandy islets created the crossing, and made for a natural choke point across the river, but the thick piles of rubble, branches, leaves and dead bodies that partially blocked the river’s flow were anything but natural.  Even though he knew something was wrong, Davrim was no-less surprised when the monster leaped out of the debris at him.  Yellow eyes flickered from their recessed sockets in the large reptile’s skull.  It was as green as the surrounding foliage, and at least six-feet in length.  Its head was dragon-like and filled with sharp teeth.  Its two arms ended in grasping claws, and a cloud of greenish vapor wafted from its gaping maw.  It leaped at the half-orc like a cat, its jaws clamping down on his sword arm while its forelegs raked savagely at his belly.  Stevhan leaped to the aid of his companion, slashing with his sword, but at that moment, a second creature emerged from the dam.  Davrim threw the first beast away from him, chopping down on its head with his blade as he did so.  It hit the ground and rolled quickly back upright, preparing to spring again.  Before it could, however, Mox let loose with a barrage of magic bolts, and the miniature dragon fell where it lay.  Meanwhile, the second creature lunged towards Selena, ripping her from her horse and snapping through the bones of one arm.  She screamed in agony, but then Stevhan and Davrim were there, hacking and stabbing until the monster stopped moving and released its grip.

Tungdill and Velox quickly knelt beside Selena and laid their hands upon her.  Healing magic flowed from the oracle and the druid, and gradually, the witch’s breathing slowed.
“Looks like we found out what a tatzylwyrm is,” she whispered.  “By all means, let’s make sure one of their heads decorates the wall above Oleg’s bar.”
_________________________________________________________

The Kamelands once more spread wide before the company.  Its rolling, tranquil hills gave a false sense of peace that they were coming to know all too well.  In a long, thin valley between two low hills, the companions came upon a dense patch of thorns from which sprouted large, raspberry-like berries…the fabled fangberries the hermit Bokken had sent them after.  Much of the thorny thicket was draped in the white gossamer of spider webs.  It looked, of course, as if the best of the berries were located in the center of the patch.  
“Why are these things never easy,” Tungdill sighed.  
“Looks like there’s nothing for it,” Velox shrugged.  
Slowly, the six began picking their way among the thorns, inevitably suffering several pricks and scrapes despite their caution.  The going was slow, and the minutes passed like hours.  They were well into the thicket, hot and bloodied, when the first of the spiders appeared.  They were easily the size of a man’s thumb, with large, serrated fangs.  They didn’t approach singly or in small groups, but in a massive swarm of writhing legs and chewing mandibles.

Immediately, Davrim, and Velox drew their swords, while Tungdill pulled his cudgel, and began beating all about them, crushing dozens with every blow.
“No!”  Stevhan shouted.  “That’s no good!  Burn them!  If you can’t, then run for your lives!”
The ranger heeded his own advice and began pushing through the brambles, the inch-long thorns tearing into his flesh as he ran.  Velox sheathed his blade and reluctantly followed, Tungdill right behind him, the druid pushing through the thicket as if it were made of blades of grass.  It was almost as if the plants just moved aside for him as he passed.  The others made to follow, but Mox was too slow.  She began to scream and scream as the spiders swarmed over her, biting and ripping with their fangs.  The pain was immeasurable, and her stomach rebelled and heaved as she struggled to remain conscious.  A moment later, however, flames exploded around her as Davrim hurled a flask of alchemical fire at her feet, and the spiders began to scatter.  Mox staggered away, still nauseated, and beating at the few spiders that still clung to her robes.  Another, larger gout of fire bloomed behind her, this time from Selena’s outstretched hands.  The last of the arachnids curled into charred, smoking husks.  

Understandably, Mox deferred from gathering any more of the berries, as did everyone else except Tungdill and Stevhan.  The pair made quick work of the rest of the chore, and before long, they had enough to satisfy Bokken’s request.  
____________________________________________________________

Later that night, the moors of the Kamelands were lit with the full glow of the last night of the full moon.  Stevhan and Mox stood watch, jokingly recalling the harrowing events of the day, Mox still nursing several nasty-looking welts.  Suddenly, the still night air was broken by the sound of a lone wolf’s howl in the distance.  Stevhan rose to his feet, surveying the landscape.  It wasn’t the first time they’d heard wolf calls, but this one sound closer and somehow…different.  Then, atop the next hill, he saw the wolf.  It seemed to almost be staring directly at them, and then, it began to lope towards them.  As it came, its form began to shift and change, until it ran on two legs, a gleaming sword clenched in one hand-like forepaw.  

“Awake!  Awake!”  the ranger cried to his sleeping companions as he drew his own blade and charged out to meet the werewolf.  He struck first, his blade raking across the beast’s belly, but if felt as if he’d struck a stone wall, and the wound was only superficial.  The lycanthrope bared its stained, yellow teeth and leaped at Stevhan, its sword stabbing into his thigh as its jaws clamped down on his shoulder.  At that moment, the ravening creature was struck by twin blasts of magic from Selena and Mox, a combination of fire and arcane energy.  The werewolf collapsed under the barrage, howling as it burned to death.  As it fell to the ground, its body shifted again until a naked, feral-looking man lay there.  

Tungdill knelt quickly beside his friend to examine his wound.  He pulled a clump of herbs from his pouch and pressed it to the bite.
“Wolfsbane, mixed with belladonna,” he said.  “Don’t know if it’ll work, boy.  Only the next full-moon will tell…”


----------



## JollyDoc

*SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER*

1)  The would-be kings find themselves in the midst of a war-in-miniature.

2)  When sides are chosen, a past act of kindness pays off in spades!

3)  However, even when you pick the "winning" side, there's always a hitch, isn't there??

4)  Several more assignments are fulfilled, and a new one is accepted...after all, who could refuse a dead man...especially when he's carrying a very sharp pole arm??


----------



## rjohanek

JollyDoc,
First off, I love your story hours (I've been reading them since Shackled City).  Second, I would like to know a little more about the simulationist/gamist aspects of Kingmaker.  
How do your players like the sandbox aspects of the AP?  How is the exploration part going (the actual act of going into new hexes and updating the player map)?  I am curious if the players are digging these aspects of the game or not.  These two aspects (followed by the nation-building aspects of the game coming later) are what got me to purchase this AP (I have not bought anything since midway through Curse of the Crimson Throne).  Any info or insights about how these adventures actually play out around the table would be very appreciated.


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## JollyDoc

rjohanek said:


> JollyDoc,
> First off, I love your story hours (I've been reading them since Shackled City).  Second, I would like to know a little more about the simulationist/gamist aspects of Kingmaker.
> How do your players like the sandbox aspects of the AP?  How is the exploration part going (the actual act of going into new hexes and updating the player map)?  I am curious if the players are digging these aspects of the game or not.  These two aspects (followed by the nation-building aspects of the game coming later) are what got me to purchase this AP (I have not bought anything since midway through Curse of the Crimson Throne).  Any info or insights about how these adventures actually play out around the table would be very appreciated.




Thanks for your long-term readership!  I always love hearing from long-timers!  I actually think the sandbox aspect, the mapping, and eventually, the kingdom growing are all a part of what has most excited our group about this particular AP.  Several of our players are avid board gamers, regular playing games like Settlers and Axis and Allies.  As a matter of fact, we are using Settler's tiles as terrain tiles on our big table map.  I feel like we were looking for a different, open-ended experience with this AP.  This will give the guys much more opportunity for true character development...something they've not had a chance to do with some of the more "on-rails" AP.  We'll see.


----------



## JollyDoc

Our new game table, "in action!"


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## WarEagleMage

From this player's perspective (Stevhan the Ranger), I'm loving Kingmaker so far.  As some have noted before, there are some MMO elements as well as some tactical war game elements with which most of us are familiar, but we're having a lot of fun with it.  We are just getting to the point where we are thinking about our roles within the eventual kingdom, and how our characters would play out.  We have probably done at least a couple of things out of the ideal order, but that's part of the fun.  Any DMs out there should be nice (like JollyDoc) and give you the heads-up that this might happen.  Most of us gamers are used to encountering ELs that ramp up as the game goes on, but because of the sandbox nature of this AP you can easily run into something above your pay grade.  Sometimes it's better to run away and fight another day.  Finally,  I can say that having the Story Hour back definitely motivates us around the table.  You always want to be the guy whose play is "story hour gold."


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## rjohanek

JollyDoc said:


> Our new game table, "in action!"




Is that the Emissary?!  I am TOTALLY going to get one of those when I retire from the military (Come on, 2016!)!

Thanks for your and WarEagleMage's feedback.  As an 'oldtimer' I do miss the bodycount (PC) of Shackled City (but just a bit).  I liked the 'old school' vibe of rolling up your sleeves, rolling up new characters, and going back and getting revenge (I'm thinking specifically of the Kuo-Toa temple).

Thanks for years of great stories.


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## JollyDoc

rjohanek said:


> Is that the Emissary?!  I am TOTALLY going to get one of those when I retire from the military (Come on, 2016!)!
> 
> Thanks for your and WarEagleMage's feedback.  As an 'oldtimer' I do miss the bodycount (PC) of Shackled City (but just a bit).  I liked the 'old school' vibe of rolling up your sleeves, rolling up new characters, and going back and getting revenge (I'm thinking specifically of the Kuo-Toa temple).
> 
> Thanks for years of great stories.




That is indeed the Emissary, and it was worth the wait (and price)!  

I know what you mean about old school, and the good thing about Kingmaker is that there are aspects of that in the overarcing campaign.  Give it a try...I really think you'll enjoy it.


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## Neverwinter Knight

Great going so far, JollyDoc & co. A few close calls go hand in hand at first level, and I seriously doubt that everyone will see Stolen Land through to the end. So there might be some character creation still to come, rjohanek.

I actually bought the first Kingmaker modules to read ahead and then let myself be amazed by the groups solutions. This adventure path really gives the PCs a lot of freedom in its non-linear setup. I'm very excited what the group will make of this...and who will turn out to be queen or king. 

Also, does the group have enough healing power with them? I don't see a dedicated healer.


PS: Nice table !!!


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## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:


> Great going so far, JollyDoc & co. A few close calls go hand in hand at first level, and I seriously doubt that everyone will see Stolen Land through to the end. So there might be some character creation still to come, rjohanek.
> 
> I actually bought the first Kingmaker modules to read ahead and then let myself be amazed by the groups solutions. This adventure path really gives the PCs a lot of freedom in its non-linear setup. I'm very excited what the group will make of this...and who will turn out to be queen or king.
> 
> Also, does the group have enough healing power with them? I don't see a dedicated healer.
> 
> 
> PS: Nice table !!!





There's no dedicated healer!  You are correct!  The oracle, the inquisitor and the druid have some limited capacity, but otherwise it's every man for himself.  They'll be needing that discount from the potion maker!  

P.S.

The ruler has already been chosen...


----------



## Joachim

The party has plenty of healing.  At the low levels, we will of course be using 'cleric on a stick', and then at the higher levels the druid, oracle, and witch will all have the good healing spells.

There are 6 spellcasters (of some sort) in this group.  Five of them have CLW on their spell list.  No Channel energy for healing, but we probably won't need it.


----------



## EroGaki

Joachim said:


> The party has plenty of healing.  At the low levels, we will of course be using 'cleric on a stick', and then at the higher levels the druid, oracle, and witch will all have the good healing spells.
> 
> There are 6 spellcasters (of some sort) in this group.  Five of them have CLW on their spell list.  No Channel energy for healing, but we probably won't need it.




I envy you this. My group just hit second level, and we have been struggling. We have a fighter, barbarian, ranger, summoner (me), sorcerer, and a witch. The poor witch is our healer, and she's having a hard time of it; she has the healing hex, and that's all. No wands, no cure spells, just that hex.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Joachim said:


> The party has plenty of healing.  At the low levels, we will of course be using 'cleric on a stick', and then at the higher levels the druid, oracle, and witch will all have the good healing spells.
> 
> There are 6 spellcasters (of some sort) in this group.  Five of them have CLW on their spell list.  No Channel energy for healing, but we probably won't need it.



For now...


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## Supar

Neverwinter Knight said:


> For now...



 WHO ASKED YOU TO BE ALL OMINOUS JD CAN SCARE THE CRAP OUT OF BY HIS LONESOME THANK YOU VERY MUCH *remembers email from demigorgon*


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## Neverwinter Knight

I have learned that your tactics can handle almost any situation that even JD can throw at you (just remembering the Dragotha spectacle). Only thing left to do for us readers is to tease you sometimes...


----------



## JollyDoc

THEY MITE BE KOBOLDS

They could see the 100-foot-tall sycamore from several miles away.  As they drew closer to it over the next few hours, only then could they truly appreciate its immensity.  Still, it was what they discovered along their trek to the tree that absorbed their attention.  There were only one or two bodies at first…pitiful, small, twisted things that had obviously died violent deaths.  The kobolds were easily identifiable, but the other creatures, blue-skinned, bug-eyed little vermin, were a bit more of a mystery.  
“They’re mites,” Stevhan announced after he’d examined one of them more closely.  “Fairy creatures, though not the butterfly wings and unicorn giggly kind you might imagine.  They’re vile, evil little beasties, though I can’t complain about their choice of enemies.  Maybe they’ve taken care of our kobold problem for us.”

By the time they reached the tree, the bodies had become much more numerous, and it had become obvious that a sizeable battle had been fought there recently.  The roots of the giant sycamore were a massive, gnarled tangle, but Stevhan’s sharp eyes spied the small shaft that opened amidst them.  It was a tight fit, but one-by-one they dropped down the shaft, which gave onto to a low tunnel that ran off in two directions.  Following the left-hand branch, they shortly found themselves in a room of sorts.  Three crude, wooden workbenches occupied the center of the area, their tops strewn with various tools, metal and wooden hardware, and blocks of wood.  A pair of mites stood across from each other on the far side of the room.  One of them manned a miniature catapult built out of bones and branches, firing small caltrops at the second one who, apparently, was trying to catch them in his mouth.  Their goggly eyes grew impossibly larger when they saw the hunched over giants enter their workshop.  They shrieked in unison and, incredibly, charged towards the company, small daggers clutched in their knobby hands.

What followed would have been comic if it weren’t a violent life-and-death struggle.  As Velox raised his sword to smite one of the little trolls, it forked its fingers at him, and in an eye-blink, the oracle began shaking and quivering as if he’d seen a ghost.  When Davrim and Stevhan joined the fray, their size in the cramped quarters caused them to bang their heads on the ceiling, crash into each other when they tried to swing their blades, and overall prove themselves completely ineffectual against the mites, which darted in between their legs, thrusting their tiny blades into their feet at every opportunity.  In the end, it was Mox who brought an end to the farce, blasting each of the mini demons with a mystic bolt.  
_____________________________________________________________

They continued deeper into the catacombs beneath the tree, and next found themselves in a much larger, but no taller, cavern.  The wet-looking floor of the chamber was crisscrossed by several shallow trenches, each of which contained trickles of putrid-looking fluid.  Six foul mounds of compost and dung lay heaped about the room, each studded with small spherical eggs.  Across the cave, a female mite sat on a low stool in front of a large, wooden bowl, from which she was ladling a foul-smelling paste to a trio of centipedes the size of small dogs.  When she saw looked up, she squealed, and tumbled backwards off of her perch.  As she scrambled away through a tunnel, the centipedes swarmed towards the group.  Velox stepped forward and pinned one of them to the floor with his sword like a specimen on a collector’s table.  Stevhan quickly dispatched a second one, but when Davrim moved towards the last one, it sank its pincers into his ankle, and he felt a hot fire shoot through his leg.  He felt it going numb as the insect lunged for him again, but Stevhan stepped in front of him and cleanly swept its head off.
____________________________________________________________

Their pursuit of the mite took them to a damp room haphazardly cluttered with broken beds, chairs, wagon wheels, and an assortment of worn, tattered, dingy, and broken objects.  A row of bookcases stood crookedly propped against the far wall, the shelves filled with bits of bone, feathers, and dried centipede legs.  Old window frames, cracked and splintered, hung upon the wall like works of fine art.  When the little female came screaming into the area, six more mites were sprawled about.  Two were attempting to play a folk song on a shabby, stringed instrument, while two more sat nearby, jeering and throwing rocks at them.  The third pair lay beneath ragged sheet reading a book with torn pages that was, incidentally, also upside down.  They all lurched to their feet when the trespassers came barging in after the female and, like the gentlemen they obviously were, they promptly fled after her after she darted out the far side of the room.
“This is gettin’ awfully irritatin’,” Tungdill growled.
“Don’t worry,” Mox smiled as she squinted one eye down the length of her finger.  “They’re not all getting away.”
She quickly snapped off twin magic bolts, dropping two of the trailing mites.

As it turned out, the fleeing mites were not as cowardly, nor as stupid as they appeared.  When the six companions rounded the corner into the next chamber, they found themselves face to face with no less than ten armed mites, one of them, a gap-toothed fellow with a disgusting scattering of pimples on his face and tongue,  mounted on the back of a very large, and very disgusting, tick!  
“Me Grabbles!” this apparent leader barked, “You big feets!  You no want here!  Tickleback, kill!”
The tick rider then began pushing forward, driving his minions before him.  Stevhan, Davrim and Velox stepped forward to meet the horde, and the blood began to spill.  The sheer number of mites actually worked against them as they stumbled over one another and lost their ability to maneuver.  One after another fell beneath the warriors’ blades, and one or two to Mox’s devastating barrage of arcane missiles.  
“One big bug deserves another one!”  Tungdill crowed as he waved a mistletoe branch and slashed his palm with a small, silver sickle.  In a flash of light and smoke, a winged ant the size of a pony appeared right in front of Grabbles and Tickleback.  The mite chieftain squeaked, and then squealed again a moment later as one of Mox’s bolts struck him directly between the eyes, knocking him dead to the floor.  The ant launched itself at the tick, sinking its mandibles into the arachnid’s eye.  Tickleback hissed and writhed as it rolled onto its back.  The ant followed, not releasing its hold.  Within moments, the tick’s legs folded in on its abdomen and it fought no more.  Within a few more moments, not a single mite stood.

Rows of wooden pegs lined the earthen walls of the chamber, some hung with tiny, filthy cloaks.  In the center of the room stood a rickety table held together with twine, covered with a filthy red-checked tablecloth and heaped with mounds of dirt and twigs and gravel, apparently arranged to form some sort of map.  Sitting at the edge of the map, weighing down a scrap of paper, was a bloodstained ivory statuette of what looked like a crouching reptilian devil.  A bulging burlap sack sat beneath the table.  
“Looks like a battle map of some sort,” Stevhan said as he peered at the odd tableau.  “The twigs represent this tree, and this,” he pointed at the gravel, “I’m pretty sure is where the kobolds are.  Looks like it’s not too far from here.”
“Might carry some weight with’em if we finish wipin’ out their enemies,” Tungdill huffed.  “We’re already off to a good start.”
Velox sighed.  “It doesn’t seem like the mites are willing to be diplomatic with us,” he said.  “If they’re not going to be a help to us, then I suppose we are bound by our charter to make sure that they pose no threat to the rest of the Green Belt.”

Just beyond the far side of the ‘war room,’ a deep and ominous chasm split the passage.  The chasm was a few yards wide, and twice as deep, but thick ropes of tangled roots filled the entire area.  The passage continued on the far side of the chasm, and between the two ledges, numerous loops had been tied into roots to serve as hand- and footholds.  Velox took the lead, sheathing his sword as he reached out for the first loop and began hauling himself across the chasm.  He’d gone about ten feet when the loop that he’d just put his foot into, broke.  With a gasp, he plunged twenty feet straight to the bottom, landing heavily on his back.  
“Velox!”  Davrim called.  “Are you ok?”
It took the oracle a few moments to catch his breath.
“I…I think so,” he wheezed.  “Can you throw me down a rope?”
“Sure!” the half-orc shouted.  “Just hang on!”
Velox started to climb to his feet, but just then he heard something moving in the darkness further down the chasm.  A moment later, he saw something huge looming up out of the black.  It was a centipede, but it was fully 25-feet-long from its dripping mandibles to the tips of its twin, whip-like tails.
“I don’t think I can wait on that rope!” he cried.

Up top, Stevhan hissed when he saw the enormous beast bearing down on Velox.  He knocked, drew and released in one fluid motion, sinking a shaft deep into the bug’s carapace.  Then, to the shock of his companions, he leaped from the edge of the chasm, and plunged through the roots, rolling to his feet as he hit the bottom.  Velox glanced back at him, relief and gratitude in his eyes that quickly turned to shock and pain as the centipede struck.  The oracle screamed as the monster’s jaws clamped down on his thigh, his words shifting into the cryptic Celestial tongue that took him in the midst of crisis.  Stevhan drew his sword as he charged the brute.  It had rolled, exposing its underbelly when it bit Velox, and that’s where the ranger drove his blade, sinking it in to the quillons.  With a gurgle and a gout of black blood, the creature sank to the ground, releasing its grip on Velox.

“Well done, boy!”  Tungdill called down.  “The half-breed’ll be lowerin’ a rope in a minute!  I’ll meet ya on the other side and tend to the young’un’s injuries there!”
Laughing, the dwarf rose into the air on the back of the flying ant.  It landed gently on the far side…where six mites stood crouching in the shadows.
“Bloody Hells!”  Davrim snarled from the other side when he saw the little demons leap out at the druid.  “Hang on!”
“Don’t worry ‘bout me none!” Tungdill bellowed laughter.  “Me an’ Adam got this covered!”
By the time the others reached him, all of the mites lay in pieces around him, blood dripping from the ant’s mandibles.  

It was only at that moment that the companions took note of their current surroundings.  The walls of the small, egg-shaped room they were in were obscured by thick tangles of long, pallid roots.  Four black-scaled kobolds were tied into these roots.  Only one of them was still alive.  This pitiful creature squeaked weakly as the group approached.
“Doesn’t he look familiar?”  Davrim asked.
Velox peered closely at the little creature.  “I think you’re right,” he said thoughtfully.  “That mark over his right eye…it looks the same.”
“That me!”  the kobold piped up.  “Me Mikmek!  Big foots let me go in radish patch!”
“Well what do’ya know?”  Tungdill grunted.  “Seems like ya got yerself in a spot of trouble, runt.  What’cha doin’ here?”
“Mikmek brave Sootscale warrior,” Mikmek replied, puffing out his chest slightly.  “Chief Sootscale choose Mikmek special for important mission!  Sent to get back Sharptooth, Sootscale holy statue.  Dirty little mites steals it from Sootscales!”
“You mean this?”  Tungdill hefted the ivory demon statue.
Mikmek’s eyes went wide, and he nodded so hard it seemed his head might fall off.  “Yes!  Yes!  That Sharptooth!  If Big foots give it to Mikmek, he take them to Sootscales!  Chief give them many treasures for reward!”
“Well, well,” Velox nodded shrewdly.  “Perhaps we will do just that very thing…,”
_________________________________________________________

As Stevhan had surmised, the lair of the Sootscale kobolds was not more than a day’s ride from the giant sycamore tree.  Along the way, Mikmek told them tales of his tribe’s bravery in the war against the mites.
“So then Tartuk send Mikmek and others to get back Sharptooth,” he finished.
“Who’s Tartuk?”  Tungdill asked.  “Thought ya said yer chief’s name was Sootscale.”
Mikmek looked as if he’d been caught with his hand in a cookie jar.  “Well…,” he paused, his voice lowering as he looked around warily.  “Nobody like Tartuk.  Everyone except chief afraid of him.  Not want to get cursed.  He tell us that if we no bring back Sharptooth, we all turn yellow and die!  Chief not afraid, though!  Him bravest Sootscale.  Mikmek think big foots should give Sharptooth to chief.  Him know what to do.”

As it turned out, the Sootscales had made their abode in an old mine.  A weathered sign near the entrance identified it as the Oaktop Silver Mine.
“Silver and gold,” Mox hummed to herself.
As the group approached, a lone kobold stepped out of the shadows of the mine opening.
“Who go there?” he squeaked.
“It me, Mikmek,” Mikmek replied.  “You let us by, Nakpik.  We got big business with chief!  Bring Sharptooth home!”
Nakpik gasped, but quickly stepped aside.  Mikmek led the companions deeper into the mine, along the way picking up more kobolds, who followed along in silence, a combination of wonder and fear on their faces.  Finally, they reached a very large cave.  The air inside it was warm and close, thick with a reptilian stink mixed with smoke and burnt meat.  Numerous beds of furs lay scattered throughout the room amid smoldering cookfires, while at the far side, a wide alcove contained a large mound of furs framed by dozens of sticks upon which were mounted the skulls of many birds and small animals, all smeared with ash.  Six more kobolds milled about the room, while seated upon the larger mound of furs was a tall, burly kobold, who wore a lizard skull as a crown, and carried a wrapped thigh bone in his hand like a scepter.  
“Mikmek!”  the chief roared as he leaped to his feet.  “Thought you dead!  Why you bring big foots here!?”
“Chief Sootscale!”  Mikmek fell to his knees.  “These the big foots that let Mikmek go before!  Now they rescue him, and kill Grabbles, and bring back Sharptooth!”
At that point he held up both the statue, and the head of the mite chief, Grabbles.
Sootscale hissed.  “Give it to me!”  He snatched the statue out of Mikmek’s hands.  For several moments, he simply stared at it, his brow furrowed.  Finally , he seemed to reach some sort of decision.  He raised the statue over his head, then threw it the floor, smashing it into a hundred pieces.  All around him, the other kobolds gasped, and some of them screamed out.  
“Death to Tartuk!”  Sootscale cried, raising his fist over his head.  After a moment, Mikmek echoed the cry, and after that, so did the entire tribe.
____________________________________________________________

Tartuk closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  The purple-scaled kobold shaman knew they were coming for him.  This moment had always been inevitable, and in some ways, he welcomed it.  Tartuk was tortured.  He had not been born a kobold, but in fact, had begun life as a gnome.  He had been slain in a fight against a group of ogres that had been tormenting his village, but his ‘heroic’ sacrifice was enough to give his people a chance to defeat the giants and, sorrowed by his death, unanimously vote to restore him to life…by having him reincarnated!  The bitter irony of the whole situation was that Tartuk had never meant to give his life in defense of his village.  In fact, he’d actually been trying to surrender to the ogres, and had offered to help them in return for sparing his life, but the ogres had crushed him before he had the chance to speak his peace.  When his people saw his new body, they were scandalized.  Enraged, he fled into the forest, nursing a deep grudge.  He found a tribe of kobolds, joined them, used his magic and manipulative lies to rally them, and led his new army in an attack against his old village.  Since that time, the mad sorcerer had drifted through several River Kingdoms, periodically haunting towns and murdering gnomes he found, and at other times, insinuating himself into kobold tribes, taking them over from within, and then driving them to extinction by forcing them into wars they could not possibly win.  The Sootscales had been but his latest project.  Now, apparently, his ruse had been pierced and they were coming for him.  Tartuk sighed again.  At least it would save him the trouble of doing himself in.  He opened his eyes once more, and their they were…his executioners.

The battle, such as it was, was quick and decisive.  Though Tartuk exhorted the other kobolds to kill the “infidels” for daring to defile their holy statue, his tribemates did no such thing, instead cheering madly when Stevhan’s blade felled the shaman.  
“Now Sootscales and big foots can be friends!”  Sootscale declared as his people danced and capered about.  
“Yes, about that,” Velox said, “do you know that you’ve made your home in a silver mine?”
Sootscale shrugged.  “Sootscales can’t take shiny out of walls.”
“We can,” Velox said calmly.  “Would you let us?”
Sootscale shrugged again.  “Sure…as long as Sootscales get a percentage.”  His grin was wide and toothy.
  “Kobolds small…not stupid!”
_____________________________________________________________

With the Sootscale problem sorted out, the companions were very close to fulfilling the demands of their original charter from Restov.  All that really remained was seeking out the Stag Lord…a task which sounded much easier than reality was likely to dictate.  The explorers decided a return to Oleg’s was in order before they bearded the bandit lord in his lair, and so they turned their horses north once more.  On the way back, they took a more circuitous route, and found themselves on the southern shore of the Shrike River.  A thick, sagging rope hung across the river, apparently all that remained of a bridge that may once have spanned it.  A signpost read, “Nettle’s Crossing…5 coppers…ring bell for service.”  Sure enough, a rusty bell hung next to the sign.  A little way down the shore, the crumbled remains of a burnt-down wooden building was slowly being overtaken by encroaching vegetation.

“Guess we oughta do what the sign says,” Tungdill grumped as he reached for the bell.
“No, wait!”  Velox cried, but it was too late.  The dwarf had already given the bell a tug.  As its tinny peal was fading, Stevhan spied movement some distance down river.
“Look…there!” he called, pointing.  
When the others turned, they beheld a truly horrible tableau.  Crawling up from a large pile of rubble mid-stream, was the corpse of some long-dead unfortunate.  Its flesh was putrescent, and it clutched a dripping ranseur in its bony hands.  It stepped out into the water, and then, to the disbelief of the watchers, began walking upon the surface of the river…against the current!
“You are not my tormentors!” the corpse called out in an eerie, soggy voice.  “I am he who was called Davik Nettles!  Throw the Stag Lord’s body into the river, that I may look upon his death…or join me in his stead!”
“We share a common enemy!”  Velox called back.  “If we are successful in our endeavor, we will return his body here and do as you ask!”
Davik bobbed his head once, then simply melted back into the river.


----------



## Abciximab

Great story, hope to see more pics of the game table in action too (I have always liked to see gameplay photos). Looks like your group is really cruisin' along.

Took 2 sessions for my group just to get past the encounter at Oleg's (over planning will do that). They're finally exploring the greenbelt though, and have cleared out the bandit camp. Wandering monsters haven't been too much trouble for them so far.


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## Zanticor

I want to echo the sentiment of Abciximab! Having followed your exploits for so long we want to see you in action. What can that table do? come to think about it I think a youtube snapshot of your game in action would also be awesome. No pressure though, If your not keen on that kind of exposure I can settle with some pics of the miniatures in a battle  on that  awesome table of yours.

Zanticor


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## JollyDoc

We'll definately have to put up some more "action" photos, and a video is not out of the question either...will have to find the right moment...preferably when I crit someone and yell, "Eat it!"

SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER

1.  The group sets a course for the fortress of the Stag Lord

2.  They manage to get inside through diplomacy, rather than aggressive negotiations.

3.  Once inside, Mox wrangles an audience with the Stag Lord himself!

4.  The deal goes south from there, however, when Davrim jumps the gun

5.  Unexpected assistance comes in several forms

6.  Stevhan finds himself the target of all the Stag Lord's pent up fury!

7.  The Stag Lord's dark secret is exposed!

8.  New blood joins the group, but is he friend, or foe??


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## Neurotic

Yet another faithful reader joins the ranks of those silently cursing ends of story hours and waiting for another update. 

Just as a side note: I prefered former style with more dialogue better, but I got used to this descriptive one.

Do fighters really kill things with one or two swings or you're just making it short? I had same question for Curse of the Crimson Throne where fighter and druid killed things in a swing or two (by description) instead over the course of several rounds.


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## JollyDoc

Neurotic said:


> Yet another faithful reader joins the ranks of those silently cursing ends of story hours and waiting for another update.
> 
> Just as a side note: I prefered former style with more dialogue better, but I got used to this descriptive one.
> 
> Do fighters really kill things with one or two swings or you're just making it short? I had same question for Curse of the Crimson Throne where fighter and druid killed things in a swing or two (by description) instead over the course of several rounds.




Thanks for the feedback, Neurotic, and welcome!  I enjoy the dialogue too, and I'm hoping that as Kingmaker progresses, with the actual kingdom-building in motion, we'll be able to develop the personalities of the characters even more.

Most of the time in my descriptions of combat, I'm summing up several rounds in a couple of sentences, so that it doesn't become repetitive, like "Ratbone hit the troll...again."  However, in the case of Ratbone, and others like him, at higher levels they were dealing out phenomenal amounts of damage.  RB had 4 attacks per round (claw, claw, bite, gore), and could rend.  When he was hasted, it was just disgusting!


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## Neverwinter Knight

JollyDoc said:


> When he was hasted, it was just disgusting!



And a beautiful build at the same time. 


Wonder if Stevhan survivies the Stag Lord's fury. He's a tough one.


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## WarEagleMage

Well, let's just say there's a_new_ Stag Lord in town...

He didn't hit nearly as hard as the troll.


----------



## JollyDoc

THE STAG LORD COMETH

The fortress of the Stag Lord, such as it was, sat on the northern shore of the lake known as the Tuskwater.  Perched on a low hill surrounded by grassland, it was actually more of a ruin than a true redoubt, though the high wooden palisade surrounding it would make a frontal assault daunting.  The clear land around it would also leave anyone approaching completely without cover or concealment.  A trio of makeshift watchtowers loomed above the wall, and even from a half-mile away, men could be seen patrolling their heights.  

“So what’s the plan?”  Tungdill growled.  “Suicide’s not in my plans for the day.”
“The way I see it,” Mox replied, “the best way to put someone off their guard, is to do what they would least expect.  I’ve found that men stop thinking with their heads when women are involved.  We’ve got the last password they used.  We ride up to the front gate, act like we belong there, and then follow my lead.  Any questions?”
For a moment, the others could just look at her in quiet disbelief.  The sorceress had been invaluable in combat, but she had usually kept her own council.  This sudden show of force caught all of them flat-footed.
“Um…no,” Velox said after a moment.  “I think it’s a sound plan.  Once we’re among them, with their defenses down, we should be able to use the element of surprise to our advantage.”
The others nodded their approval.  Mox nodded back in satisfaction and, throwing an old travelling cloak over her normally out-of-place riding gown, she swung into the saddle.
___________________________________________________________

“Password,” the bored guard in the gate tower called down.
“By the Bloody Bones of St. Gilmorg, who wants to know?”  Mox called back, her voice low, sultry, and her eyes just a gleam beneath her hood.
The guard straightened, his head cocked.  “Open her up!” he shouted over his shoulder.
The gates rumbled open, and the six cloaked riders moved into the courtyard.  The small, dusty area separated the palisade from the inner structures.  The ground was hard-packed, barren earth.  Dozens of barrels lay stacked against the inner wall of the palisade, each with a wooden or metal bucket sitting nearby.  Two skittish horses were tethered to a hitching post, and this was where Mox led her companions.  As it became obvious to the guards in the other two towers that not one, but two women were among the newcomers, catcalls and hoots rang out.  Mox bowed her head and allowed herself a brief smile.  Men.

From the central building, a man strolled casually out into the sunlight.  He had a dark complexion, and straight, long black hair.  Tattoos covered any exposed skin, and he wore fine, studded leather armor.  A beautiful rapier hung at his side, daggers protruded from his boots, and silver, stag’s head amulet was around his neck.  
“I’m Dovan,” he said in a heavily accented voice.  Ustalov perhaps?  His eyes prowled over Mox as he spoke.  “I don’t see any cargo.  Please don’t tell me you’ve come here empty-handed.”
“We come bearing…services,” Mox purred as she threw back her cloak, “a special request of the Stag Lord.”
Dovan smiled cruelly.  “I see,” he nodded.  “Her as well?” He indicated Selena.
“My protégé’,” Mox smiled back.
“Follow me,” Dovan said as he turned back towards the keep, “but the men stay behind.”
“My services don’t come cheap, and they’re well worth the price,” Mox replied, her voice growing cold.  “For this reason, I never travel alone, and I trust no one…except the men I pay handsomely to guard my person.  I’m sure the Stag Lord would not be pleased at this delay.”
Dovan regarded her coolly, the promise of great suffering in that gaze.  “Follow me,” he said again.

The edges of the large, drafty room Dovan led them into were crammed with crates, barrels, and boxes.  Hammocks strung on wooden posts denoted sleeping areas, while dirty bowls and utensils rested atop rickety, makeshift furniture.  Elsewhere, chamber pots sat tucked into corners, while a large iron gate was wedged into a wide gap in one wall.  Chips of ancient plaster flaked from the walls, exposing the stone construction; whatever plaster still clung to the stonework was covered with strange and erratic scribbles and pictographs.  The floor consisted only of hard-packed earth.  Three men sat around a table playing cards, their voices low.  They stopped talking altogether as they watched the women with hungry eyes.  A fourth man, obese and greasy from the whole chicken he was devouring, sat near the iron gate.  A strong, animal musk wafted from the dark opening beyond the gate, and a large shape shifted within.  In an archway at the far side of the room, stood a final bandit.  He was human, middle-aged, and he too wore a stag’s head amulet.  Something about him spoke of authority, though his eyes were hollow and haunted.  He wore beautifully crafted chainmail, and a steel shield on his left arm.  A longsword hung at his hip, and a masterfully made bow lay across his back.  
“What’s our move, Mox?”  Davrim whispered in the sorceress’s ear.  
“Wait for my signal,” she murmured back.
This didn’t sit well at all with the inquisitor.  He was a man of action and all of this skulking about among the bandit vermin made his blood boil.  He fixed his eyes on the armored man at the end of the room, and found his gaze returned with equal intensity.  In that moment, Davrim knew their ruse had been pierced.  Time seemed to slow as he stepped forward and grabbed Dovan’s arm, drawing his sword free as he did so.  The bandit turned, shock in his eyes as three-feet of steel slid between his ribs.  Behind the half-orc, Stevhan never missed a beat.  He didn’t expect the sudden outbreak of violence, but his instincts took over nonetheless.  He darted forward and delivered the killing blow to the Stag Lord’s lieutenant.  After that, it was chaos.

Selena’s eyes briefly caught those of Mox, and though the women were from vastly different worlds, their thoughts were momentarily in sync…men!  The witch spun towards the trio of brigands at the card table and proceeded to bathe them in fire from her outstretched fingers.  They screamed in agony, overturning the table as they leaped to their feet.  One of them promptly hit the floor as Mox blasted him with a flurry of magic missiles.  Across the room, the fat bandit also got to his feet, but instead of drawing his sword, he seized a rope that hung beside him and began to pull, raising the iron portcullis.

In a shadowy corner of the common room, a lone figure sat, unnoticed by neither the bandits nor the newcomers.  Leaf rose quietly to his feet, and began edging towards the door.   He’d lost track of how long he’d been in the bandit camp, and he still had very little memory of how he’d come to be there in the first place.  The only thing he’d become certain of over time was that he didn’t belong there.  He’d bided his time, waiting for the right opportunity, and now it had simply fallen into his lap.  As he reached the door, he saw Ayles Megesen rushing down from the gate tower.  The man may have be soft-spoken, but he was a pig.  Of all the bandits in the fort, he enjoyed torture the most, and often spent hours after a fight “exploring” surviving victims.  Leaf stepped calmly aside as Ayles barged in.
“What the Hells is going on here?” he roared.
“Trouble,” Leaf replied.  “We’d better get in there.”

“You’re next!”  Davrim bellowed as he pointed his sword at the armored man.  He rushed forward, Stevhan at his side.  They flanked the big man, whose sword had appeared as if by magic in his hand.  He parried and dodged expertly, but couldn’t deflect the pair completely.  Blood flowed freely.
“Stand down, fool!” he hissed.  “I can help you!  The Stag Lord will be here any moment!  You’ll need all the help you can get!”
Something in his eyes told Davrim that he spoke the truth.  The inquisitor focused his thoughts, reading the man’s aura, and he found no evil there.
“If this is a trick,” he growled, “be assured, you will not live to regret it!”

Tungdill happened to be standing directly in front of the portcullis as it opened.  He sensed more than saw the huge shape bearing down on him.  As it entered the torch light, he groaned.
“Not again!”
In an instant, the owlbear was on him, its claws and beak ripping and slashing.  Behind him, the fat bandit laughed obscenely…until he collapsed to the floor, snoring.  
“Close it!”  Selena cried.
The druid didn’t have to be told twice.  Leaping clear of the beast’s talons, he dove towards the rope and released it, sending the iron gate crashing back to the floor, and trapping the enraged owlbear behind it.

While Selena was busy keeping Tungdill alive, Mox was looking out for her own interests.  The two immolated bandits, by some miracle, were still on their feet, and still coming towards her!  Taking a page from the witch’s arsenal, she tugged a wand from her sleeve and spoke a brief command,
 “Flickum biccus!”
A fan of fire burst from the tip of the wand, engulfing the brigands again.  This time, their screams were mercifully brief, and they did not rise again.  At that moment, however, she felt a sharp pain in her side and she cried out.  Behind her stood Ayles, his sword dripping, a sadistic leer on his face.  A moment later, however, his eyes went wide, and then blank as he slid soundlessly to the floor.  A slim man stood over him, his own blade now dripping.  His slanted eyes met Mox’s, and though a stained bandage wrapped his head, it didn’t quite hide the tell-tale pointed ears of his heritage.
“I never did like that sonofawhore,” Leaf said.

Stevhan and Davrim whirled as the back door smashed open.  Two more bandits entered.  One of them was obviously Varisian, older and with graying hair and an unruly beard.  
“That’s him,” Davrim nodded.
“Who?”  Stevhan asked.
“Falgrim Sneeg,” the half-orc replied, “the man Garess asked us to find.  Make sure you take him alive.”
The ranger nodded, and then moved like a snake, slashing at the throat of the man beside Sneeg.  Choking on his own blood, the brigand went down.  Sneeg looked uncertain at the two men bearing down on him, debating whether it was time to start moving on.  
“Just so you know,” a sinister, bass voice boomed from behind Sneeg, “I’m gonna kill whoever let Beaky loose this time!”
A giant of a man staggered out of the shadows.  He wore a leather kilt, a heavy cloak and thick gloves, though his chest was bare.  His skin, where it was visible, rippled with thick scars as if burned.  His face, if he had one, was not visible, for upon his head he wore a great helm shaped in the form of a great stag’s skull.  

Leaf felt Auchs’s presence behind him before the half-wit spoke a word.  He could also smell the big oaf.  He reeked of sweat and garlic.  Leaf turned slowly, his eyes going up and up until he could look at Auchs’s face.  The man was almost as big as an ogre, with the brain to match.  He clutched a wooden table leg in one hand, and a toy dragon in the other.  He was one of the Stag Lord’s three lieutenants, but only because of Dovan.  Auchs had followed the Ustalavian about like a loyal puppy, and as long as he was around, no one had dared try and usurp Dovan’s authority…until now.
“Why Dovan sleep?”  Auchs bellowed.  His piggy eyes narrowed as he stared down at Leaf.  “You make Dovan sleep, pointy ear?”
“No,” Leaf replied smoothly.  “It was them.”  He pointed to the invaders.  “They came here to kill the Stag Lord, and they’ve already killed Dovan and many of the boys.  I think we need to make them pay!”
Auchs’s eyes began to water as it slowly sank into his thick skull that his friend was dead and not asleep. 
“Nooooooooo!” he roared as he lifted his makeshift club and thundered across the room towards Tungdill.

“You any good with that bow, boy?”  the Stag Lord sneered at Stevhan.  He shouldered Sneeg aside as he put an arrow to his own bowstring.  
“Why don’t we find out!” the ranger snarled, his hand a blur as it went for his quiver.  It was then that he saw the black, hollow eye sockets of the Stag Lord’s helmet begin to grow crimson.  The bandit king drew back to the full extent of his string, and then released.  The arrow twirled almost languidly through the air before it sank to the fletchings into Stevhan’s chest.  The ranger’s breath caught in his throat as he coughed up a gout of frothy red blood.  He staggered back, falling against a wall to keep from falling.  The Stag Lord’s head turned towards Davrim.
“You next, big boy?”

Selena had just finished putting Falgrim Sneeg to sleep when she felt the floor shaking from Auchs’s approach.  The Varisian had been trying to slink away unseen.  The young witch turned just in time to see the massive bandit looming over Tungdill, but as his club fell to crush the dwarf’s skull, a sword blade blocked its descent.  From out of nowhere, the armored bandit lieutenant had appeared at Tungdill’s side, and now his arm quivered with the force of the impact of Auchs’s cudgel against his steel, but he didn’t falter.  Instead, he bared his teeth and a low, animal growl sounded deep in his throat.  Still, determination wasn’t everything, and brute strength counted for a lot.  Inexorably, Auchs forced the armored man back.  Then, an ululating wail came from behind the giant as Leaf leaped upon his back, swords in each hand.  He jabbed both blades into Auchs’s neck over and over, causing him to reel backwards.  The armored man leaped forward and drove his steel through the giant’s heart.  He toppled like a falling oak.
“Well done, lads!”  Tungdill shouted, slapping both men heartily on the shoulders.  “Now with the riff-raff out of the way, let’s see what we can do about the big boss!”
The dwarf drew out his sickle and mistletoe and began to chant.  A dim glow in the center of the room rapidly brightened into the familiar form of Adam.  
“We’ve got work t’do, boy!”  Tungdill told the giant ant.  
Adam turned to follow his master, reaching out casually to snap the neck of the still-sleeping, fat bandit who’d tried to free the owlbear.  The armored man trailed after them.  No one noticed Leaf slip into the shadows.  

Selena and Mox paused to catch their breath, making sure all of their foes had been dealt with.  Only the owlbear was still on its feet, beating furiously at the gate that kept it from its prey.
“Sleep now,” Selena said soothingly as she passed her hand in front of its eyes from the opposite side of the portcullis.  On command, the beast’s eyelids drooped, and it fell over in a heap.
“Now let’s go see of the boys need any help,” she smiled at Mox.  Perhaps the noblewoman wasn’t quite as repugnant as she’d originally believed.

Davrim was still facing off against the Stag Lord, the two circling each other like feral dogs.  That was when Adam skittered around the corner, closely followed by first the armored bandit, then Tungdill, Mox and Selena.
“Akiros!”  the Stag Lord bellowed.  “Kill them now!”
“I think not, ‘my lord!’” the armored man snarled.  “I’m through taking orders from a drunken savage!”
Akiros lunged.  To his credit, the Stag Lord managed to both drop his bow and draw his sword before his former lieutenant, but he wasn’t quite fast enough to parry the blow.  It was a shallow wound, but a long one, and it threw the bandit king off-balance just long enough to present an opening.  Adam surged in and locked his mandibles around the Stag Lord’s leg.  As he hewed at the insect and tried to free himself, Davrim struck.  The blow nearly severed the man’s arm, but he seemed barely to notice.  A string of curses and epithets flowed from him as quickly as his life’s blood, and he flailed about him like a man possessed.  Adam bit and stung repeatedly, but it was a final volley of arcane bolts from Mox that brought the brute down.  Just like that…it was over.

Leaf, as quietly as he could, hoisted the portcullis.  Softly, he crept over to the sleeping owlbear and slid one of his swords through its eye and into its brain.  It simply stopped breathing.  
‘Now,’ he thought to himself, ‘if I were a bandit lord, this would be the safest place for me to stash my loot.’
He began to quickly and silently plunder the lair.
__________________________________________________________

“I suppose I owe you some sort of explanation,” Akiros said, his head bowed.  “Suffice it to say that the life I have been living these past years has been a hollow one.  I have much to atone for, and the step I’ve taken today is but the first on a long, long road.  May Erastil forgive me.”
He pulled a medallion from his tunic…the symbol of Old Dead Eye.  
“You…you’re a believer?”  Stevhan asked.  The color had returned to his face after Tungdill’s ministrations.
“I used to be,” Akiros said quietly.  “Perhaps I can be again.”
“There is a place we know,” Stevhan replied.  “It is an old shrine, long neglected, but I have felt the power that is still there.  It is still a holy place, and now it has a new caretaker…a priest named Jhod Kavken.  If you seek him out, perhaps he can help you find your way.”
“Perhaps I will at that,” Akiros nodded.  
“You’ve done much more than take one step,” Velox said.  “We owe you our lives, and we count you as friend from this day forth.”
Akiros nodded again.  Then he reached down and wrenched the stag helm from the bandit king’s head, exposing a face that was little more than a mass of old scars and burns.  He gazed down into the hollow eye sockets for a moment, and then handed the helm to Stevhan.
“I think you’ll find that the essence of the true Stag Lord still lingers here,” he said.  “I certainly am not worthy of such a relic, but I feel that you are.  Take this, my friend, and by wearing it, perhaps you can erase the memory of that horrible creature from this land, and replace it with hope.”
Stevhan silently took the helm, and as he did so, he felt something stir within his breast.  He knew, without a doubt, that the stag helm did indeed come from Erastil.  He knew as well that it was his destiny to wear it.

“And what’s your story, boy?”  Tungdill turned to the elf, who’d remained silent since the end of the battle.  
“Careful who you call boy, dwarf,” Leaf replied.  “I’m probably older than you are.  In any case, I’m not sure there’s much to tell.  I honestly have no memory of how I came to be here, or where I was before I came here.  I’m only certain that this was not my place, and now I’m free of it.”
“And where will you go now?”  Davrim asked.  
Leaf shrugged.  “I’m not sure.  Perhaps our roads will travel together for awhile.  Perhaps not.”
“Before you leave,” Akiros interrupted, “there’s one more thing you should know.  The Stag Lord kept a prisoner in the cellar of the fort…an old man, and I think…I think it’s his father.  Beware, though.  This man is no pathetic elder to be rescued.  He’s every bit as sadistic and evil as his foul offspring.”
“Thank you for the warning,” Velox nodded.  “We’ll deal with him.  With luck, he will show gratitude at being freed from bondage.  If not, his freedom will be gained nonetheless…and may his soul find peace.”
________________________________________________________

The cellar of the keep felt miserably damp, and greasy swaths of mold caked the carved stone walls and floor.  The ceiling was thick with cobwebs.  Three archways in the walls opened into other rooms, all of which were filled with mounds of crates, furs, sacks, weapons, and other obviously stolen loot.  Davrim led the group cautiously down the slippery stairs into the darkness.  As he stepped into the main room, their torchlight caught the gleam of a pair of feral eyes on the ceiling.
“What is that?” the inquisitor cried.
A low growl came from the darkness near the ceiling, and a creature quickly scuttled out of the shadows like a giant spider…except it looked for all the world like a wolverine.
“Damn!”  Tungdill cursed.  “He’s a blasted druid!  Kill’im quick!”
Davrim snapped off two shots from his bow, and both struck the animal dead-on.  Mox followed this immediately with a trio of glowing missiles.  Tungdill himself conjured a sphere of fire that leaped from his hands to the ceiling, setting the wolverine on fire.  It howled and fell heavily to the floor.  In an instant, Leaf leaped upon it, slashing its throat from ear-to-ear.  As the last breath left the creature, it shifted forms, becoming that of a decrepit old man.  
Velox sighed.  “We reap what is sowed,” he said.  “And so the cycle has come full circle.”
____________________________________________________________

The thing that once was Davik Nettles stood upon the waters of the Shrike river, staring up at the mortals  on the banks.  Davrim and Stevhan held the body of the stag lord between them, and with one heave, they hurled it into the river below.  As it sank beneath the surface, Davik sighed and dissolved into the water, leaving only his ranseur behind to wash up on the shore.
____________________________________________________________

When the companions finally returned to Oleg’s, they were greeted by a mixture of shocked disbelief and admiring adulation.  Kesten Garess said nothing when Falgrim Sneeg was handed over to him, but a simple nod conveyed the depth of his gratitude.  News that the Stag Lord was no-more spread like wildfire, and in the weeks that followed, a substantial reward arrived from Restov.  In addition to the gold, there was also a sealed document…a new charter, commissioning the new heroes to begin settling the Greenbelt, and establish a colony there…


----------



## JollyDoc

SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER

1)  A new kingdom is born, and our heroes become leaders.

2)  Yet growth is slow, and not without incident as rumors and quests abound!

3)  Eventually, the pull of the open road calls to our heroes once more, yet the needs of the people cannot be ignored, and their idle exploration soon becomes a public undertaking.

4)  A local fisherman's request for help with a squatter at his fishing hole leaves Davrim locked in a fight for his life!

5)  Though safer than it was, the Greenbelt still holds many dangers, not the least of which is a rogue worg called Howl-of-the-North-Wind.

6)  A chance discovery of an ancient barrow mound costs Velox part of his soul!


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Great ending with the Stag Lord. Was there any good/ bad dice rolling involved at the table? Also, is Leaf as distructive during actual gaming or are you juicing it up a bit for the SH, JollyDoc?


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:


> Great ending with the Stag Lord. Was there any good/ bad dice rolling involved at the table? Also, is Leaf as distructive during actual gaming or are you juicing it up a bit for the SH, JollyDoc?




The dice were fairly normal during that fight.  No flagrant crits or misses.  The way the encounter with the Stag Lord was written, he wasn't supposed to appear on the scene until late in the fight.  I actually brought him in a little sooner, otherwise none of his people would have been alive when he arrived.  The fact that the group was able to prevent the owlbear's release was key.  

Leaf's player is running him very close to the vest.  Leaf's a fast talker, and an opportunist.  He only attacked when there was a flank available, allowing him to sneak attack.  Plus, he's a dual-wielder, so can get two attacks per round on a full attack action.


----------



## JollyDoc

BIRTH OF A NATION

_*Be it so known that the bearers of this charter, having delivered the northern reaches of the Greenbelt from the scourge of banditry, having provided detailed maps of the lay of the land, and having done no small amount of work in the exploration of said land and the culling of hostile monsters and indigenous hazards, are hereby granted the right to rule.  The nature and laws of rule are theirs to define, and the wellbeing of this new nation is theirs to protect.  In accordance for providing a stable nation to the south of central Rostland, let there be a generous stipend of funds, support, and advice provided to this fledgling nation as a token of Restov and Brevoy’s goodwill, such that future relations between kingdoms might be mutually beneficial.  So witnessed under the watchful eye of the Lordship of Restov and by the authority granted by Lord Noleski Surtova, current Regent of the Dragonscale Throne.*_

And so was born a nation.  When the seven chance companions received their newest charter from Restov, no one was more surprised than the heroes themselves.  The new friends and acquaintances they’d made during their adventures seemed to take the news in stride.  Even stoic, antisocial Oleg was among the first to congratulate the new rulers.
“So, what’s next?” the gruff trader asked as they sat about his table enjoying a celebratory feast laid on by Svetlana.  “Who’s going to be our king?”
“Don’t you mean ‘queen?’”  Mox asked coyly.  “Or in this case, rather, Baroness?”
“It’s true,” Velox nodded in response to Oleg’s gasp as he choked on his ale.  “Mox is used to the Game of Thrones.  She hails from Port Ice, you know?  Her family is still very prominent there, I understand.  If we’re to truly make a go of this, we need someone who can stand with the bureaucrats at their own level.”
“I’m not sure if you’re complimenting me, or insulting me!”  Mox laughed.  
“Well I for one think it would be quite refreshing to have a woman in charge around these parts!”   Svetlana nodded as she bustled about the table.  “What roles will the rest of you fill?  A ruler can’t rule alone, after all.”
“I’ve given that quite a bit of thought already,” Mox said.  “First, I need someone honorable and beyond reproach to handle the defense of our new nation.  That’s why I’ve chosen Velox to be the General of our militia.”
“You honor me, my Lady,” the oracle bowed his head.
“Likewise, I need someone equally skilled in dealing with the rougher elements of so-called civilization within the borders of our capital,” she went on.  “So Stevhan shall be my Warden, and shall command the city guard as the new Stag Lord!”
“If only my dad could see me now,” the ranger smiled as he shook his head.
“I’m sure he’d be proud,” Svetlana said kindly.
“Tungdill will be my Marshall,” Mox continued.  “With his skills and knowledge of the wilds, he will be able to enforce justice in the more rural areas.”
“Bah!”  Tungdill grumbled.  “Never asked for the job.”
“It is yours, nonetheless,” Mox smiled.  “Now, since I’ve appointed a Warden, I’m realistic enough to know that we will inevitably attract a criminal element, as all civilized lands eventually do.  Stevhan will be charged with reigning in this faction, but there will, unfortunately, be some who must be made an example of in order to dissuade others from perpetrating such crimes.  Accordingly, Davrim shall be my public Enforcer…I loathe the term executioner.”
Svetlana’s face blanched, but Oleg and Kesten Garess nodded their approval.  Davrim himself simply inclined his head once, the hard expression on his face answer enough.
“That leaves you, my sister,” Mox turned to Selena.  The witch looked dubious.  “Don’t worry!”  Mox laughed.  “I’ll not appoint you ratcatcher!  No, no…I need you for greater things!  You shall be my Magister, guiding our institutes of higher learning and magic.”
Selena looked stunned, her eyes disbelieving.  “I…thank you,” she stammered.
“No, I thank you for your service,” Mox replied.  “Now, there are a few other posts that I still need filled.  Oleg, you are a man who knows how to procure things, and you have a head for business.  I need a man such as you…to be our nation’s Treasurer.  Will you accept my offer?”
The trader’s face never changed.  “Aye,” he said.  “That I will.  Never trusted nobody to keep my books ‘cept me.  I’ll make sure you’re never short a copper…my Lady.”
“Excellent!”  Mox clapped her hands.  “As for you,” she turned to Svetlana, and the woman’s face grew even paler.  “There can be no rule of law without the voice of the citizenry.  You will be that voice, Svetlana.  You will be the people’s Councilor.  You will let them know that their interests will also be served.”
“I…I’m really not suited to such things,” Svetlana turned away, a flush rising in her cheeks.”
“You illustrate the reason for my choice,” Mox said.  “I would not want someone who was self-serving.  I ask you this as a personal favor.  Our people need you.”
Svetlana said nothing.  Oleg reached out and squeezed her hand.  After a moment, she nodded silently.
“Speaking of the people,” Mox turned to Jhod Kavken.  “They will also need a moral compass…a spiritual leader to help through the lean times, and to teach them gratitude for the bounteous ones.  What do you think…High Priest?”
If anything, Jhod’s face grew even paler than Svetlana’s had been.  “You don’t know what you’re asking of me,” he said quietly.  “I’m…unworthy.”
“None of us are without sin,” Mox said softly.  “If you thought yourself so, you would be of no use to me.  If atonement is what you seek, let this be your penance.”
Jhod looked at the stag helm that rested on the table next to Stevhan, and then at the holy symbol of Old Dead Eye that hung around the neck of Akiros.  “Perhaps I’ve been blind to the signs for too long,” he said.  “I accept.”
“That leaves just one more appointment,” Mox announced.  “If we are to become a real nation, in time we will need to secure diplomatic ties, and cultivate powerful allies.  Kesten Garess, you have lived among the Swordlords, and you too know your way around the Game.  I ask you, if only temporarily, will you agree to function as Grand Diplomat?”
“I care not for politics,” the soldier growled.  “Politicians do not win wars.”
“Neither does steel alone,” Mox countered.  “You, as a warrior, know better than most that the best war is the one you never have to fight.  There is more than one type of battlefield, wouldn’t you agree?”
Garess pondered for several long moments.  “I suppose I would at that,” he said finally.  “It would be…refreshing to actually be a part of something that counts.  I’m in.”
“And what shall we be calling this new country of ours?”  Oleg asked.  “And where’s the capital going to be?  Not here, I hope!  I still value my privacy, you know?”
“As for the latter,” Mox laughed, “you needn’t worry.  We’ve chosen the bandit fort for the site.  It’s centrally located, easily defensible, and best of all, we’ll already have a castle!  As for your first question…well, I’m going to allow myself a bit of nepotism.  I’ve decided to name the kingdom after my family…Kardashia!”
_____________________________________________________________

“You thought I’d forgotten about you, didn’t you?”  Mox asked Leaf.  The elf had kept silent throughout dinner, and as the celebration broke up, he’d slipped away in silence.  Mox had followed.  
“I hadn’t actually given it any thought at all,” he snapped.
“So you say,” Mox acknowledged, “but then I have to wonder, if you truly have no interest in what we’re doing here, then why are you here at all?”
Leaf glowered at her.  “My reasons are my own.”
“I’m sure,” Mox smiled.  “Perhaps I can give you some perspective.  I chose Stevhan and Davrim to be the public faces of the system of laws that we hope to put in place, but I’m not a fool.  I’m very conscious of the fact that criminals don’t just sit around waiting to be brought to justice.  Sure, we may capture a few and make examples of them, but they’ll only be minor players.  The true threats to our fledgling nation will stay in the shadows, operating behind the scenes.  You strike me as a man used to operating out of the public eye, so I ask to consider becoming my Spymaster.  I need someone who can operate with impunity, unsanctioned to infiltrate such organizations.  Something tells me that this might be to your taste.  Sleep on it.  You know where to find me.”
____________________________________________________________

Several weeks later, on the first day of the month of Gozrah, ground-breaking began on what was to become the capital city of Kardashia…Veritas.  Almost immediately, there were problems.  The former fortress of the Stag Lord sat on a low hill overlooking the Tuskwater, with but a single road leading up to it.  As workers began breaking ground around the fort, they unearthed a slumbering evil.  The hill, as it turned out, was an ancient burial ground, and the dead there did not rest easy.  Reports reached Mox and her companions that several workers had been killed, and the rest refused to approach the site.  Something had to be done.

The sun was setting when the companions arrived at the base of the hill and started up the trail.  They had gone no more than a dozen yards when the ground around them erupted.  Four mostly-skeletal corpses clawed their way out of the earth and began shambling towards them.  Velox stepped in front of Mox and decapitated the first one that got too close.  Mox herself dispatched a second one with a pair of scorching rays of fire.  Davrim moved towards another, and Tungdill set the last one ablaze with a small tuft of fire he produced in the palm of his hand and tossed like a burning flask of oil.  Again and again the earth around the heroes churned, spewing forth the dead…first four more, then eight.  The companions fought like the team they’d become, putting their backs to one another as they sent one zombie after another back to their graves.  Mox was particularly lethal, alternately burning the undead and blasting them to pieces with arcane bolts.  Finally, when only one or two remained, her eyes turned a peculiar shade of gold, the pupils slit like a reptile’s, and her fingernails elongated into claws.  She literally tore the last of the zombies apart with her bare hands.  In the aftermath, the workers stood wide-eyed, their mouths agape. First one, then another and another began to applaud, until soon the entire crowd was clapping and cheering loudly, chanting over and over, “Baroness!  Baroness!”
_____________________________________________________________

In the months that followed, the young kingdom continued to grow.  The new keep was completed, and became a beacon for the pioneers that gathered to the banner of the new nation.  In addition, a town hall was erected for public meetings.  Meanwhile, the lands to the north of Veritas were being cleared in preparation for farming.  Eventually, the expansion efforts reached the Sootscale lands, and to the mild surprise of everyone, the kobolds kept their end of the agreement, and allowed the silver to begin being mined from their caves.

In the month of Erastus, Mox was approached by a local merchant named Loy Rezbin and his wife Latricia.  He was a ruddy, friendly faced-fellow, and as it turned out, something of an entrepreneur.
“So that’s the gist of it,” he finished his presentation to the Baroness.  “We would like to found a village in the Narlmarches, near the Skunk River ford, where my Lady and her vassals slew the tatzlwyrms.  The site has become something of a local legend!  The draw would be natural.”
Mox pondered the proposal for several moments.  If their nation were to thrive, they would need more than one city.  Commerce would be essential, and the Narlmarches were a great natural resource for lumber.  The proximity of the river would facilitate its transport.
“Your request is granted,” she nodded.  “Just be aware that it may take some time before our efforts reach you there, so you will be on your own for awhile.”
“I think you will find we’re quite self-sufficient, my Lady!”  Rezbin laughed.  “You won’t regret this!”

As the land grab continued spreading north, soon encompassing the small gold mine the companions had stumbled across during their explorations, disturbing rumors began filtering in from the south.  Trolls had been sighted with increasing frequency in the southern Narlmarches and Kamelands.  The tales that traders brought were horrific and terrifying, but strong leadership and a thriving economy kept the people’s fears to a minimum.  How could such faraway tidings be of any concern to them?  Life was good!  Yet even so, several posters began appearing around the town offering a reward by a local alchemist to anyone who could provide a waterskin full of troll’s blood, which was rumored to be a wonderful catalyst in the creation of healing potions.  

Veritas next added a tannery and a town dump, the latter heavily lobbied for by Tungdill, whose local tirades about the filth polluting the natural environment became legendary.  Still, with the growing success of the village, even more troubling rumors grew as well.  It seemed a green dragon had been spotted in the southern Narlmarches, and a ferocious worg, known as Howl-of-the-North-Wind, was terrorizing local hunters and trappers.  It wasn’t long before Mox and company began to feel the itch for adventure again.  They announced an excursion to the wild southlands, and the public response was immediate…
___________________________________________________________

When word spread that the lords of the land were venturing forth, requests began pouring in.  An herbalist asked, that if they should come across one during their travels, they bring her back a sample of shamblesap, the blood of a shambling mound.  A fisherman named Arven petitioned to have a giant turtle called Crackjaw removed from his favorite fishing hole.  A lumberjack called Stas swore that he’d come face-to-face with a mythical hodag, and had even left his spear stuck in the beast.  His fellows dismissed his tale as a drunken hallucination, but Stas swore that he’d been stone sober.  Lily Teskertin, a young woman of questionable repute but expensive tastes, coyly informed Stevhan that, if he should come across any works of elven craftsmanship, he would earn her undying gratitude…and perhaps more.

“Damn it all!”  Tungdill cursed.  “If this is what bein’ a leader is all about, you can have it!”
“Heavy is the head that wears a crown,” Mox smiled.
“Bah!” the dwarf scoffed.  “Easy fer you t’say!  Yer the people’s darlin’!”  
“My Lady,” a middle-aged man interrupted.  It was the tanner, William.  “If I might have a moment of your time?”
“You see!”  Tungdill roared.  
“Of course Mr. Tanner,” Mox said kindly.  “What can we do for you?”
“It’s my boy, ma’am, Tig,” the tanner said.  “He’s gone missing.  He’s a wild one, to be sure, and he’s got the wanderlust.  He’s been away for a day or so before, but he’s always come home.  It’s been over three days now, and his ma and me’s awful worried.  Could you keep an eye out for him while you’re abroad?”
“We’ll do more than that,” Mox replied.  “If he’s out there, you have my word, we’ll find him.”
_______________________________________________________________

A day’s ride out of Veritas found the companions traveling along the northeast shore of the Tuskwater.  As it so happened, they came upon a small, hidden trail that led down to an isolated pool…the same pool that Arven the fisherman had told them about.  
“Are we seriously goin’ down there t’kill a bleedin’ turtle??”  Tungdill asked.  “Don’t it have the right to live there?  Y’know?  Turtles?  Water?  They kinda go together!”
“Arven’s fish are a top-seller around town,” Velox pointed out.  “If his supplies is being threatened, it affects our economy.”
“So we just kill anything that gets in our way?”  Tungdill raged.
“Maybe we can catch it and relocate it,” Davrim offered.  “It’s a turtle.  How big could it be?”

Davrim picked up a piece of drift wood on the shore of the pool and tied a length of rope to the end.  He baited it with some of his trail rations and dropped it into the water.  It was Tungdill who first saw the ripple disturb the placid surface of the pool.
“I think yer gonna need a bigger pole, boy,” he chuckled.
At that moment, a snapping turtle the size of a pony erupted out of the water and seized the half-orc by the leg.
“Get it off me!  Get it off me!”  Davrim screamed.
Selena quickly wove a hex in the air, and the turtle’s eyelids drooped.  Its grip on the inquisitor’s leg loosened as it sank to the sand, asleep.  Davrim snatched out his sword and quickly lopped off its head.
“What in the Hell’s are y’doin’?”  Tungdill howled.  “What happened t’takin’ it alive??”
“That was before it bit me,” Davrim replied soberly.
_____________________________________________________________

Stevhan’s blood went cold when he heard the distant howl as night fell.  The companions were preparing to make camp for the night in a wooded copse, and it had fallen to the ranger to secure the perimeter.  The chilling sound immediately took him back to that night on the moors so many months ago.  He remembered every night that he woke in a cold sweat during the month that followed, certain that would be the evening that the curse of the werewolf would take him.  When the full moon finally rose…nothing happened.  Tungdill’s cure had worked, and yet now, hearing those howls again, Stevhan felt the old fear grip him once more.  
“One of those howls doesn’t sound like a timber wolf,” Tungdill said.  He’d come up next to the ranger quietly, and stood gazing out into the gathering darkness.
“It’s a worg,” Stevhan said.  “I don’t think we’re going to have to find Howl-of-the-North Wind after all.”

As the druid and the ranger moved back to their comrades, yellow eyes gleamed at them out of the night.  
“What is it?”  Velox asked, but no sooner had the words left his mouth than a trio of wolves rushed into the circle of firelight.  One lunged for the oracle, biting deeply into his flank.  Then, looming up just at the edge of the light, a truly massive shape emerged.  The worg was the size of a horse, its yellow teeth the length of a man’s finger.  It growled low to the other wolves, and to the companions, it sounded oddly as if words were mixed in with the snarls.  The wolves fanned out, coming at the group from all sides.  A moment later, the camp fire flared higher as Tungdill literally tore a sphere of flames from it and sent it hurtling at the nearest animal.  The wolf yelped as its fur ignited, and when it dashed in blind panic past Davrim, the half-orc shattered its spine with his curved falchion.  Velox used the distraction to drive his blade through the chest of his own attacker, and then he began advancing on the worg.
“Come, human!” the great worg snarled.  “I will suck the marrow from your bones!”
“Not if I have anything to say about it!”  Davrim growled in return.
The oracle and the inquisitor charged, flanking right and left as they narrowly avoided the worg’s snapping jaws.  Striking as one, they both thrust with their blades, sending Howl-of-the-North Wind writhing and cursing to the ground.  The worg struggled to rise, but the duo struck again, and this time the beast stayed down.  As they turned to see how their companions fared, they saw Tungdill standing over the final wolf, its fur burned to a black char.
_____________________________________________________________

Several miles east of the Tuskwater, the wandering nobles stumbled upon what they at first took to be a small cave opening in a hill side.  When Velox thrust a torch inside, however, it became apparent that they’d found some sort of barrow.  A low-ceilinged, worked passage gave onto an octagonal chamber, the walls of which were decorated with crude mosaics of simple village life:  hunting, fishing and farming.  A thick carpet of guano covered the floor…it was crawling with insects, and the sharp tang of ammonia hung in the air.  A cobweb-filled tunnel to the east led deeper underground.  

As the torchlight illuminated the chamber, Velox became aware that the ceiling seemed to be moving.  Only too late did he realize what he was seeing.  By that time, the bats were already swarming about them.  
“Get out!”  he shouted as he beat the air around him with his torch.
“Now why would we go and do a foolish thing like that?”  Selena asked.
She spread her fingers and flames spewed forth, setting the room ablaze with flying bodies.  
“Aye,” Tungdill agreed as he hurled a bouncing ball of fire into the room, immolating the remaining bats.  “You boys figure if ye can’t hit it with yer sword, then it must be invincible!”

The main passage led on to a circular room with three other tunnels exiting it at the cardinal points.  Four large monstrous faces, carved from stone, leered and grimaced from each of the walls between the tunnel entrances.  A skeleton sprawled face-down in the middle of the room.
“Er…does anyone else smell a trap?”  Tungdill asked.
“I’ll look,” Leaf sighed.  
The elf crept ahead, bent low to the ground.  When he drew near the body, he squatted down and touched his finger tips gently to the pavestones.  He sighed deeply again, stood, and returned to his companions.
“It’s a trap,” he said.
“You don’t say!”  Tungdill barked.
Leaf ignored him.  “There’s something under the skeleton, but if we move it, the trap will be sprung.  I can’t see a way to disable the mechanism.”
“Step aside, long ears,” Tungdill muttered.  
The dwarf pulled a length of rope and a grapnel from his backpack.  He twirled it once and tossed it into the center of the room, where it hooked the bony leg of the body.  Then he slowly reeled it in.  No sooner was the corpse moved off of the central stones, than the four faces seemed to inhale deeply, and then each exhaled a cloud of black tendrils, all focused at the center of the chamber.
“See?”  Tungdill asked as he bent to pluck a silver ring from the skeleton’s finger.  “Trap disarmed.”
“Do you hear that?”  Stevhan asked.
After a moment, they all did.  The sound of footsteps…many of them, shuffling and dragging, along with the clink of armor from the passages to the east and west.

From each of the side passages came a half-dozen shambling, skeletal warriors clad in rusting chainmail and clutching pitted scimitars.  From the corridor directly across from the companions emerged something far more sinister.  The creature was also obviously undead, but more flesh clung to its bones, and an evil intelligence glimmered in its black eyes.  It also wore tattered armor and garments, and though the falchion it clutched was broken, its blade glowed with an eerie blue light.  
“Get behind me!”  Velox shouted.  
The oracle snatched a flask from his belt and quickly quaffed its contents.  Instantly, he began to grow until he was full twice his height, sandwiched against the low roof.  His mistake cost him valuable moments, and the skeletons surged forward, one of them raking its talon-like claws across Velox’s side.  Then the fight began in earnest.  Davrim and Stevhan took up positions beside Velox, while Mox and Selena put their backs to one another.  The sorceress lobbed arcane bolts, while the witch spewed fans of flame.  Between them, they brought down four of the walking dead.  Tungdill, meanwhile, dodged away from a rusty blade while he desperately spoke the words to call Adam to him.  The giant ant appeared in a flash of light and immediately flung itself on a pair of skeletons, bearing them to the floor beneath its weight before tearing them to shreds with its mandibles.  

The lone warrior stalked forward, pushing his way between his skeletal minions.  Velox coiled, waiting.  He swung, but the lone warrior easily deflected his clumsy blow, and then darted in, thrusting the broken sword blade between the oracle’s ribs.  The pain was intense, but worse than that, Velox felt something reach deep inside him and pull out something vital.  His knees went momentarily loose.
“Leave them!”  Davrim shouted to the others as he batted aside a slashing scimitar.  “Velox is in trouble!  Focus on the leader!”
Mox cut loose and a barrage of missiles struck the warrior, sending him reeling away from the oracle.  Velox had recovered enough to seize the opportunity.  He swung his now-gigantic sword in sweeping arc and smashed the warrior’s shield arm to flinders.  Tungdill hurled a palm-sized globe of fire into the wight’s face as Adam scuttled forward to sting with his barbed tail.  None of these things could stop the apparition.  With his remaining arm, he batted Adam aside and lunged at Velox again.  Once more the oracle felt the soul-numbing cold that infused the glowing blade.  
“Drive him back!”  Davrim roared.
Selena conjured a rolling sphere of flame that leaped at the lone warrior.   He erupted into a pillar of fire that shattered a moment later under a fusillade of missiles from Mox.
After that, it was just a matter of cleaning up.  Davrim led Velox stumbling out of the chamber while the others dealt with the remaining skeletons.  
“He’s not in good shape,” Davrim announced as they gathered around Velox, his face drawn and pale.  “We’ve got to get him back to Veritas.”


----------



## Joachim

I'm disappointed Joe...I expected this week's edition to be titled "Keeping Up with the Kardashians".

Seriously, though, very nice read.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

> “Get out!” he shouted as he beat the air around him with his torch.
> “Now why would we go and do a foolish thing like that?” Selena asked.
> She spread her fingers and flames spewed forth, setting the room ablaze with flying bodies.
> “Aye,” Tungdill agreed as he hurled a bouncing ball of fire into the room, immolating the remaining bats. “You boys figure if ye can’t hit it with yer sword, then it must be invincible!”



Pure story hour gold, JollyDoc !!!


----------



## JollyDoc

SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER (ON TUESDAY)
________________________________

1)  When the ruling party returns to Veritas, Velox's healing must wait, as there is a serial killer on the loose.  All signs point to a werewolf...and suspiciaon falls squarely upon Stevhan!

2)  With the murderer brought to justice, the companions return to the field, only to run afoul of a wandering barghest!

3)  While slogging in a bog, the group runs afoul of one pissed-off fungus, which brings new meaning to the term "stuffed mushroom."

4)  The haunted lake known as Candlemere is discovered, but will the heroes have the nerve to brave Candlespire?

5)  When the companions meet up with the notorious Old Beldame, will she be ally, or deadly enemy?

6)  Some old family business is settled for the hermit Boken.

There will be no update this week, as Velox, Stevhan, Mox and myself are GenCon bound!  Would love to see some of you there!  We'll be running our 
3rd Annual JollyDoc's Battle Royal...a 14 man death match!!


----------



## Dantardis

Hi,

I am looking to run the Kingmaker campaign at some point and have read through some of the scenarios.  Was just wondering is it very easy for the PCs to get out of their depth as the campaign as a whole seems a bit more free form than others


----------



## JollyDoc

Dantardis said:


> Hi,
> 
> I am looking to run the Kingmaker campaign at some point and have read through some of the scenarios.  Was just wondering is it very easy for the PCs to get out of their depth as the campaign as a whole seems a bit more free form than others




I think, ultimately, that's up to you and your players, and what play style you prefer.  My guys aren't particularly fans of big lulls in the action, so we might gloss over some of the down time, and just say, "Ok, six months pass."  You can make the adventure as free form, or as "on-rails" as you want.  There is no set order for lots of encounters to occur in, but you can direct your players as you like and put things in an order and sequence that suits ya'll.  If I can offer any advice about specific areas, just let me know.


----------



## JollyDoc

Since I won't be getting the newest update posted until this weekend, I thought I'd give you a brief synopsis of JollyDoc's Battle Royal that we ran at GenCon this past weekend.  Basically, we host a tournament of up to 14 players that bring their own 12th level characters.  We then place them in a custom-made arena and let them battle it out to the last man/woman standing.  This year, the arena was in a sewer system, except that the effluvium flowing through the sewer was acidic, boiling, and electrified, so there were some environmental hazards.

There were 10 contestants this year, and they were as follows:

Quirtel:  Barbarian 10/Rogue 2

Dora Higholt:  Rogue 10/Assassin 1/Shadow Dancer 1

Fester:  Druid 12

Corad:  Fighter 10/Wizard 2

Korthos:  Rogue 3/Wizard 3/Arcane Trickster 6

Double Rainbow:  Monk 12

Gorenaug:  Cleric 11/Monk 1

J. Cutler:  Monk 12

Brug:  Barbarian 12

Cornelius:  Wizard 12


The first fatality occured in round 8.  Brug the barbarian was brought down by Corad, who finished him with a trip/follow-up combo.

The second death was also in round 8, when Fester the druid was finished off by a pair of Bralani Azata, summoned by Cornelius.

Round 10 saw the death of Corad, who was pummeled to death by J. Cutler while trying to read a scroll.

J. Cutler himself was the next to fall in round 13, when he was caught between a pair of AOO's from Dora and Quintel as he attempted to jump over/between them.

The last death was Dora, in round 16.  He was killed by negative energy channeled by Gorenaug.

After 6 1/2 hours, 5 contenders still lived, so the ultimate decision of winner was decided by highest percentage of total hp remaining.  That made Korthos the Iron Man, with Double Rainbow coming in 2nd, and Cornelius 3rd.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Hi JD, 

Thanks for the GenCon update. 6.5 hours - sounds like you had a blast! Were any from your crew among the contestants?


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:


> Hi JD,
> 
> Thanks for the GenCon update. 6.5 hours - sounds like you had a blast! Were any from your crew among the contestants?




Not any of our home gaming crew.  Joachim and Wareaglemage helped me set-up/judge.  Three members of the group that we used to play the D&D Open with participated, however.  One, the guy who played Cornelius, finished 3rd.


----------



## Zanticor

Did you play Pathfinder or traditional 3.5? It is good to see a strait monk coming in 2nd! Was this by good play, the others ignoring the monk or just the awesome power of a furry of blows? Can't wait for another update of Kingmaker. It is inspiring me to steer my guys to start ruling the country they so awesomely let fall into anarchy after they disposed of the strawmen that where ruling the country at the behest of the Aboleth. Up till now they are more interested in going after the big slimies down below and they can't decide between democracy or mafia trade cartel rule as ways to control the country. In practice it seems kind of hard to start a democracy in a country full of magic using monsters and god that try to influence different factions. I'll tell you how that turns out. For now I'm interested how you traditional iron fist rule of law works out. Will Mox the 1st rule Kardashia like a King Arthur or more like Julius Caesar?


----------



## JollyDoc

Zanticor said:


> Did you play Pathfinder or traditional 3.5? It is good to see a strait monk coming in 2nd! Was this by good play, the others ignoring the monk or just the awesome power of a furry of blows? Can't wait for another update of Kingmaker. It is inspiring me to steer my guys to start ruling the country they so awesomely let fall into anarchy after they disposed of the strawmen that where ruling the country at the behest of the Aboleth. Up till now they are more interested in going after the big slimies down below and they can't decide between democracy or mafia trade cartel rule as ways to control the country. In practice it seems kind of hard to start a democracy in a country full of magic using monsters and god that try to influence different factions. I'll tell you how that turns out. For now I'm interested how you traditional iron fist rule of law works out. Will Mox the 1st rule Kardashia like a King Arthur or more like Julius Caesar?




The monk was a grappler build.  He was pretty awesome in the things he could do.  Round 1, the barbarian won initiative and charged him with a greatsword.  The monk promptly disarmed him, tossed his sword away, and proceeded to grapple the stink out of him.  His ultimate schtick was to grapple, pin, then tie up opponents, but he was never able to complete step 3 with his enemies.

What campaign are you guys playing?  Home brew?


----------



## Zanticor

Grapple is always a pain if your not prepared. Good on him that there wasn't a rogue around to give a full sneak attack cause that always ends up bad for grapplers. With my barbarians I always take close quarter fighting to avoid those things but disarming and then grappling... good on him!
We play a very long and drawn out version of "The Night Below". Its a second edition game that had to be converted to third and then to 3.5. I think we are in our sixth year now and my guys are all level 19-20 by now. I think we only need 5 more combat sessions to finish of the BBEG aboleth mother at the end, but things like nation building keep getting up. After the long investment it seems hard to finally make it stop for real. Of course nothing is certain with the challenges I'm still lining up for them but I can't seem to really stop them. I hope my end battle will be as epic as the ones I read over the years on you story hours.
On a side note I have to report my version of Tower Cleaver (Minotaur war hulk barbarian) just died our last session. A golem made of the bones of sacrificed mages and clerics got him in the end. While his master mind flayer was being grappled by his brother Alhoon, the golem grabbed (It's always the grapple isn't it) the Minotaur and incorporated him into his body. The bloody mind flayer survived despite being paralyzed and grappled by four tentacles because I rolled a 1 on my grapple check and we play by the rule that a 1 is a -10. Even with str 0 my players could beat that!


----------



## JollyDoc

Ah, Towercleaver.  How we do miss him.  He participated in our Iron Man two years ago, and acquitted himself well, putting down a halfling sorcerer in the first round.  Alas, the mages were too much for him in the end.

How often does your group play?  With our weekly sessions, we usually make it through an AP in about a year of real time.  With the release of the APG at GenCon, you may be seeing some changes in our heroes over the next few weeks.


----------



## JollyDoc

WOLVES IN SHEEPS’ CLOTHING

Upon returning to Veritas, the companions were quick to seek out Jhod Kavken, and so did not see the frightened, furtive looks on the faces of their subjects.  The priest examined Velox in silence, and then spoke his prayers over the oracle.  The strained and drawn look quickly faded from the young man, and his breathing eased.  After the better part of an hour, Jhod sighed and stood back.
“He needs rest for now,” the priest said, “and while he’s getting it, I need to speak to the rest of you about what’s been happening since you’ve been gone.”

Jhod let out another sigh as he lowered himself into a chair.
“There’ve been two murders,” he began without preamble.
“What??”  Mox exclaimed.  “Who?  When?  How?”
“I’m getting to it,” Jhod raised his hands.  “A few days back, some livestock were slaughtered in their pens out at the Blackfeather farm.  Thought it was just wolves or maybe firepelts at first, but then two nights ago, Saki, the girl who’s been serving down at the makeshift pub in the town hall, never made it home after her shift.  Found her body in a berry patch just outside town.  Last night, that little shepherd boy, Beven, turned up dead, along with a half-dozen or so of his flock.  Tragic, both of them.  They looked like they’d been…eaten on.”
“Where are the bodies?”  Mox asked tonelessly.
“I put them in the larder up at the castle,” the priest said.
“Then let’s go take a look,” the baroness said.
___________________________________________________________

The condition of the boy and the young woman was…sobering.  They were both mutilated, with much of their bodies missing…consumed.  Tungdill looked them over closely, the taciturn dwarf’s jaw clenched tightly.
“Wolf,” he said in a clipped voice, “or somethin’ damn close.  Big one too, like a worg, or a…,”
His voice trailed off and he looked up towards the ceiling.
“What time of the month is it?” he asked no one in particular.
“Middle,” Jhod answered.  “Why?”
“The moon,” the druid said.  “How’s the moon?”
“Full,” the priest said.  “Tonight’s the last night of it.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Tungdill sighed.
__________________________________________________________

An investigation of the attack sites confirmed Tungdill’s suspicions of a wolf perpetrator.  Tracks of a large canine were in evidence all around the areas.  Stevhan followed them to a nearby copse of trees, but they didn’t emerge again.  Instead, he found a set of bare human footprints leading out of the trees and back towards town.  The ranger bowed his head as he noted the tracks.
“The cure took, boy,” Tungdill growled.  “’Sides, we weren’t anywhere near here the night of the attacks.”
“I…know that in my head,” Stevhan said, “but there’s a part of me that still has the dreams.”

The sun was setting as they made their way back to town, and Mox quickly spread the word that a curfew would be in effect until the following morning.  No one would be allowed out of their homes after nightfall.  After that, she had her friends set up a schedule of patrols for the night.
__________________________________________________________


Tungdill crept near the mouth of the alley just in time to see the shadowy figure dart across the town square.  It ran on all fours, but at one point, stood up on two and sniffed the night air.  
“There he is, lad!” he hissed to Stevhan.  “See!  I told ya ya weren’t no killer!”
The ranger didn’t reply.  He pulled his bowstring back to his ear and loosed.  His shaft flew straight, but when it struck the creature’s flank, it bounced off as if it had struck a stone wall.  It growled low in its throat as it turned slowly, the moonlight shining in its yellow eyes.  With a feral howl, the werewolf charged, revealing the greataxe that it gripped in one hand as if it were a hatchet.  Stevhan braced himself, but before the monster reached him, Leaf stepped abruptly from the shadows directly in front of him.  The elf threw himself to one side as the werewolf swung for his neck, but managed only to graze his back.  He rolled to his feet behind the beast just as Stevhan drew his blade and rushed in from the front.  It was only then that the ranger saw that the elf’s blade was made of pure silver.  The pair struck in unison, and the shapeshifter howled in pain.  It threw itself at Stevhan, slashing and biting.  Stevhan fell back under the brutal assault.  His back struck the cobblestones and his breath was driven from his lungs.  The werewolf loomed over him, blood and saliva dripping from its jaws.  It raised its axe over him, but before it could strike, a large shape barreled into it.  By reflex, Stevhan rolled away and came to his feet, just in time to see Adam and the werewolf locked in mortal combat.  The lycanthrope, blood pouring from multiple wounds, flipped the giant ant onto its back and locked its jaws around Adam’s head.  Suddenly, the alley filled with several flashes of bright light as Mox stepped from the shadows and flung arcane bolts through the air.  With a soft grunt, the werewolf collapsed onto its side, and immediately began to transform.

The man that lay on the ground before them looked almost as savage as his alter ego.  War paint streaked his face, and feathers were braided into his hair.  
“He’s a Kellid,” Tungdill grunted, naming a local tribe of hunters.
The next day, after asking about town, they discovered that the man had recently arrived in town, and had been seen drinking heavily at the town hall before disappearing into the hills each night.  He had never spoken to anyone, and no one had ever seen him prior to his arrival.  The townsfolk hailed their leaders as heroes once more for delivering them from the murderer, but from the south, rumors of even greater evils continued to grow.
___________________________________________________________

There were still two weeks until the next council meeting, and Mox felt that time would best be spent investigating the land to the south of their fledgling country to see if there was any truth to the disturbing rumors.  She and her companions set out once more, continuing their trek along the eastern shore of the Tuskwater, fording the Gurdin River at the point where it emptied into the great lake.  Two days out of Veritas, they came upon a strange discovery.  A large pool of bubbling mud sat in a narrow defile between several hills.  The noxious vapor the pool gave off was foul-smelling in the extreme, and large mounds of fungi and peculiar mushrooms grew around its banks.  Several of them grew to a height of over ten feet or more.  Cautiously, the group wound their way down the hillside to the pool.

Halfway down the slope, the fumes became too much for Velox, and the oracle began retching and gagging.  Stevhan was turning towards his friend when a quick flicker of movement caught his attention from the corner of his eye.  As he turned back, his mind couldn’t quite grasp what his eyes were seeing.  One particularly large mound of fungus seemed to be rising into the air until it stood more than twenty-feet tall.  Snake-like tendrils began to unfold from its bole, and a huge, tooth-lined maw opened in its center.  
“Ware!” the ranger shouted as he knocked and loosed an arrow, which caught fire as if flew from his bow.  
Mox began to turn, a spell on her lips, but the nauseating vapors filled her nose and lungs.  She gagged and became violently ill, falling to her knees beside Velox.  
“It’s a tendriculos!”  Tungdill roared as he began conjuring.  “It’s carnivorous!”
“Obviously!”  Stevhan growled.
A moment later that point was driven home as the plant seized Stevhan in one of its tendrils and lifted him into the air.  When Adam abruptly answered Tungdill’s call, the ant was unceremoniously swatted away like a fly.  Tungdill didn’t seem to notice.  He was too busy with his next spell.  A flaming sphere appeared, and rolled quickly down the hill and into the base of the plant creature.  An inhuman wail bubbled up from its throat.  Adam circled back around and landed squarely atop the tendriculos, sinking his mandibles into its spongy mass.  The thing shrieked again, but as its maw gaped wide, it abruptly dropped Stevhan into its gullet.
“No, lad!”  Tungdill screamed, and he hurled handful after handful of fire at the giant plant.  
Leaf never hesitated.  The elf sprang into the boiling mud and darted through the flames that were rapidly engulfing the tendriculos.  He drove his twin blades into its flesh again and again.  With a final groan, the great plant toppled like a falling tree.  Leaf leaped upon it as it fell and plunged his swords deep into it, ripping open a wide seam.  With a great, gulping gasp, Stevhan erupted out of the goo, flesh and ichor coating him, but alive nonetheless, thanks to the former brigand.
__________________________________________________________

South of the Tuskwater lay a second lake…Candlemere.  The lake had a notorious reputation for being haunted.  Stories from fishermen, explorers, bandits and traders alike spoke of eerie lights that danced upon its waters, and blood-curdling cries from what were said to be lost souls, as well as mysterious sightings of shapes rippling in the dark waters.  A small island in the lake’s center held a lonely tower upon its summit.  The companions wisely skirted the vast water and continued towards the south and west.

They made a wide circuit around Candlemere and began travelling north again, this time along the western shore of the Tuskwater.  Still they’d found no sign of the missing Tannerson boy, nor had they encountered any evidence of troll activity.  They came upon a small swamp, and upon a small hummock in the midst of the fetid marsh, they saw a dilapidated mud-brick hut.  A thin trickle of bluish smoke trickled through a gaping hole in its moss-covered roof.  A wooden fence surrounded the perimeter of the mound, festooned with crude fetishes crafted from sticks, feathers, and animal bones.  A lone crow cawed noisily from the top of a nearby cypress tree.  A single gate hung askew in the waist-high fence, and a fist-sized, rusted iron bell hung from a hairy length of rope tied to a crooked post.  A pumpkin-headed scarecrow stood midway between the gate and the hut.  
“I know this place,” Selena said quietly.
“You’ve been here before?”  Mox  asked.  “When?”
“I didn’t say I’d been here,” Selena replied.  “I just said I know it.  This is the home of the Old Beldame, as some call her.  Others call her the Swamp Witch.  Some say she’s a true hag, while others believe she’s sold her soul to a demon.  When children go missing, she’s often suspected of being to blame.”
“Do you think she took the boy?”  Davrim growled, his hand going to his sword.
“I’m a witch,” Selena smiled thinly.  “Do you think I eat children?  Don’t believe everything you hear…half-breed.  My kind value our privacy, and often we cultivate tales such as these to keep away unwanted visitors.  Still, this is her domain, and she undoubtedly knows much about what transpires here.  There’s only one way to find out.”
Selena reached out and tugged on the old rope, ringing the bell with a dull clang.  Several moments passed before a wizened face appeared in the hut’s window.  The old crone had skin of a sickly greenish hue, and her gray hair hung lank over a pair of pointed ears.  
“Who are you?” she barked in a phlegmy voice.  “What do you want?”
“We come in peace, Old Mother,” Selena replied.  “A new nation is being birthed on your border, and we are its representatives.  We beg a few moments of your time.”
The old witch chewed her lips for a few moments.
“Come ahead then,” she snapped finally.

The companions pushed through the gate and started up the path.  As they passed the lonely scarecrow, its pumpkin-head turned slowly to watch them pass.  Davrim gripped his sword hilt more tightly.  Selena only smiled.  The door to the hut swung open as they approached, and cautiously, they filed inside.  The interior was a simple, one-room affair, with a dirt floor and thatched roof.  The rafters were hung with dried herbs and swamp-reeds, and a bubbling cauldron hung over a firepit in the center of the room.  The Old Beldame stirred the pot absently while her piercing black eyes stared unblinking at her guests.
“You’re a bold one, Little Sister,” she said to Selena, ignoring the others.  “You trespass were you’re not invited.”
“Your pardon, Mother,” Selena bowed, “but we come only seeking wisdom.  Your legend precedes you, and if we are to tame this land, we will need knowledge only you possess.”
“Ha!”  the witch laughed.  “Tame the Stolen Lands, will you?  You are even more brazen than I thought!  I have seen would-be conquerors come and go through the years.  Why should you be any different?  Still, I’ve never seen one of the Sisterhood in this role.  You intrigue me.  What would you ask of me?”
“We seek a boy,” Selena replied.  “A human lad, no more than ten summers.  He’s been missing for over a week now.”
“Then he’s probably dead,” the Old Beldame shrugged.  “Still, the lizardfolk occasionally have a taste for man-flesh, and they don’t always kill their prey right off.  They live in the swamps deep inside the Narlmarches.”
“Thank you for your time, Mother,” Selena bowed again.  “We will take our leave now.”
“I have a few more questions,” Mox interrupted.  
The Old Beldame’s eyes narrowed, and Selena held her breath.  
“I’ve never seen so few women speak for so many men,” the old witch said.  “I like it.  Ask.”
“What can you tell us of the rumors of Candlemere?  Is it truly haunted?” Mox asked
“If by haunted you mean ghosts, then the answer is no,” the Beldame said, “but it is the abode of many will-o-the-wisps, and they feed off of fear and death.  What else would you know?”
“Have you heard any news of trolls?”  Mox asked.
The Old Beldame shrugged.  “They’re around, but no more or no less than usual.  They get a wild hair every now and again, but it doesn’t usually amount to much.”
“Thank you,” Mox nodded.  “We’ll take up no more of your time.”
“There’s still the matter of my fee,” the witch smiled mirthlessly.
“Fee?”  Mox asked.  She glanced at Selena who nodded slightly.
“You don’t think I just give out information for free, do you?” the witch asked.  “No, I have given you something of value, and I ask for something in return.  A day or so’s ride from here, there is a mud bog.  An abundance of fungi species grow around it.  I’m interested in a particular kind known as Black Rattlecaps.”
“Do they look like this?”  Leaf asked as he upended his belt pouch, revealing a dozen or more black-topped mushrooms.  The Old Beldame’s eyes went wide.
“How did you get those?” she asked.
It was Leaf’s turn to shrug.  “I’m a collector.  You never know when something trivial might actually have value.”
“You are indeed a resourceful lot!” the witch cackled.  “I like you!  I suppose you’ve got as good a chance as any of making something of this land.  If you’re ever in this vicinity again, you may feel free to visit me.”
____________________________________________________________

The companions were hacking through another trackless section of forest when the old man appeared out of nowhere.  Behind them, a large puma stalked out of the trees.  
“They told me you’d come!” the old man giggled.  “Said you’d be right here!  Now that you’re here, and I’m here, and they’re here, it’s killing time!”
He drew a shortsword from its scabbard and uncoiled a whip that hung at his side.  The big cat began to growl low in its throat.  Tungdill sighed and snapped his fingers.  A green ball of flame appeared and bounced towards the crazed old man, and he shrieked as it set his trousers ablaze.  As he stumbled backwards, Leaf leaped towards him and plunged his rapier clean-through the man’s shoulder.  
“Cat!  Help me!” the codger shrieked.
With a hissing growl, the puma leaped on Davrim’s back, tearing into the half-orc with all four feet.  Stevhan turned and gave a high-pitched whistle.  A black and tan blur suddenly launched out of a nearby tree as a cheetah landed atop the puma, and the pair of them went tumbling and spitting away into the underbrush.  
“I see ya found a new friend!”  Tungdill laughed.
Davrim swept his falchion from its back sheath and chopped down with both hands as the old man tried to rise from the ground.  A few moments later the cheetah reemerged from the bushes, licking blood from its chops.
“So what was that all about?”  Davrim asked as he cleaned his blade on the dead man’s clothes.  “Some random mad man hiding in the woods with his pet cat?”
“Take a look at this,” Tungdill said.  He held up a tarnished silver locket that he’d taken off the old man’s neck.  When he opened it, there was a faded portrait of a beautiful, young woman cradling two toddlers in her arms.  “Do you remember what Bokken told us?  He said he’d come here looking for his brother…who’d killed their mother.  Said he’d gone insane and was living somewhere in a hollow tree.  I think we just might’ve engineered a little family reunion.”


----------



## JollyDoc

SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER

1)  Kardashia declares war on the lizardfolk as the heroes storm the swampy abode of the creatures to rescue Tig Tannerson

2)  Mox and Selena show just how invading a fortress should be done

3)  As we switch to Pathfinder's new Hero Point system, Leaf is the first winner of a Hero Point!

4)  Upon returning to Veritas, the heroes discover more domestic trouble afoot in the form of a rabblerouser preaching against them to the masses

5)  After Velox becomes a voice for the people, Mox make her first executive decision...one that divides the new government.


----------



## R-Hero

O.K. Been a way for a while and have to catch up......Done!



...I thought saw a 'Bouldersholder' reference lurking about in the first read but it took me a full minute to figure out who the heck Adam was when I first saw the name. 
(I remembered J.D.s perchant for singing '80s crap-rock at the game table and it made perfect sense.)



...For the record, anything that doesn't die when you stick a sword in it IS INVINCIBLE. (Funny line though!)


...Kardashia...Uhg! 
(I threw up in my mouth a little.  Why not go for _Jersey Shore _and really turn the thumbscrews, J.D.??)  

...Capital City, Veritas...
(Well crap-spackle.  I reckon that has to makes up for the Kardashia thing.)


----------



## JollyDoc

R-Hero said:


> O.K. Been a way for a while and have to catch up......Done!
> 
> 
> 
> ...I thought saw a 'Bouldersholder' reference lurking about in the first read but it took me a full minute to figure out who the heck Adam was when I first saw the name.
> (I remembered J.D.s perchant for singing '80s crap-rock at the game table and it made perfect sense.)
> 
> 
> 
> ...For the record, anything that doesn't die when you stick a sword in it IS INVINCIBLE. (Funny line though!)
> 
> 
> ...Kardashia...Uhg!
> (I threw up in my mouth a little.  Why not go for _Jersey Shore _and really turn the thumbscrews, J.D.??)
> 
> ...Capital City, Veritas...
> (Well crap-spackle.  I reckon that has to makes up for the Kardashia thing.)




I was waiting for you to chime in!!   Don't blame me for Kardashia...that's the fault of your boys...it was either that or Kanada...

Thought you'd like Veritas.  It was a total homage to a fondly remembered hero!

If you liked Adam Ant, wait until you see the name of Stevhan's pet cheetah!!


----------



## JollyDoc

WAR OF THE LIZARD KING

A low, muddy hummock protruded from the middle of the widening Murque River, surrounded by a palisade of outward-facing sharpened wooden stakes.  Inside, tendrils of smoke rose from a handful of mounds clustered around a single, larger mound.  A simple wooden gate on the eastern side of the hummock seemed to be the only entrance to the fortified island.  As the seven companions stood on the south bank of the river, gazing across the fifty-feet of sluggish water at the island, the sound of terrified screams suddenly split the air…the screams of a child.

“We’re going,” Mox said.  “Selena, give me a lift?”
The witch nodded as she closed her eyes, forked her fingers and slowly levitated into the air.
“Wait!”  Stevhan said.  “What’s our plan?”
Mox turned to him, her eyes cold.  
“The plan is to cross this river, kill any lizards that get in our way, and get the boy.”
She reached her hand up and took Selena’s.  The witch rose higher and flew out over the water, Mox in tow.
Stevhan turned to the others, his eyes wide.
“This is a plan?”
Davrim shrugged.  “Works for me.”
The half-orc began wading into the water.
“Wait!”  Stevhan said for the second time in as many minutes.  “You can’t swim in your armor!”
“Who said anything about swimming?”  Davrim asked.  He took a deep breath and continued walking until he was completely submerged and hidden from view.
Velox started to follow, but he paused on the bank and looked back at the ranger.
“Don’t worry, my friend,” he said.  “What could go wrong?”
Stevhan watched the oracle vanish beneath the slow-flowing waters, and shook his head in disbelief.
“What about you?” he asked Tungdill.  “Don’t tell me that you plan on walking across as well!”
“ ‘Course not!” the dwarf barked.  “I ain’t no savage!”
Suddenly, his body began to melt and shift into that of a large eagle.  With a screech that sounded suspiciously like a curse, it took wing after Selena and Mox.
“Looks like it’s just you and me, slim,” Leaf said as he patted Stevhan on the shoulder.  “I don’t intend to walk either.  I can actually swim.  You coming?”
“Looks like I don’t have any choice,” the ranger sighed.  “Come on, Chester.”
The cheetah mewled mournfully, eyeing the water suspiciously.

Mox and Selena reached the palisade and flew quickly over the top.  Too late, they saw the two reptilian guards standing atop a low palisade above the gate.  The lizardmen began an ululating wail, and then hurled a pair of javelins towards the women, narrowly missing.  Selena quickly dropped down behind the nearest hut and let go of Mox’s hand.  The sorceress hit the ground with a spell on her lips, and promptly vanished from view.  Just then, a golden eagle swept over the gates, screeching loudly.  As it did so, a sphere of flame appeared out of thin air and dropped atop one of the guards, turning it into a living torch.  It pinwheeled its arms as it tumbled to the ground.  Selena risked poker her head around the corner of the hut and quickly forked a hex at the remaining lizardman.  Its eyes rolled up into its head as it collapsed, asleep, atop the palisade.  Mox quickly moved, unseen, for the gate.  She lifted the bar from its brackets and shoved the doors open just as her companions emerged dripping from the river.

Selena could still hear the child’s screams coming from the large central hut.  She flew over the top and landed in front of the entrance, peering inside.  What she saw froze her in her tracks.  A large, muscular lizardman stood in the center of the hut, a trident clutched in one hand, and a pair of leashes in the other, which were attached to two huge crocodiles.  Around the lizardman stood four more lizardfolk, females if Selena were to guess, judging solely by the amount of crude jewelry they wore.  Behind them all, a young boy was bound hand-and-foot.  Tears streaked his filthy face, and as one of the crocs turned and snapped at him, he began to scream again.  Selena steeled herself and met the gaze of the lizard king squarely, channeling her spirit through her eyes.  The lizardman’s three eyelids drooped and then closed as he collapsed into a deep slumber.
“I have slain your king!” she shouted in the hissing, reptilian language of the lizardfolk.  “Surrender now, and you will be spared!”
A strange glow formed in the air above the sleeping lizard king as a grinning, disembodied reptilian skull suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
“Fools!” it hissed.  “Heed not the witch’s words!  Your king merely sleeps!  Destroy her and the other infidels!”

Outside, lizardfolk began to swarm from the other huts, alerted by the cries of the guards and the sounds of combat.  Selena broke free of her shock long enough to rejoin her companions, who had massed themselves in the center of the village.  As the lizardfolk broke over them like a wave across rocks, the group fought like the heroes they were.  Their skill and raw power somewhat compensated for the sheer numbers of their opponents…but only just.  Several of the lizardfolk were already down by the time the king emerged from his hut, roused from his slumber by one of his consorts.  His pets came before him, and one of them seized Stevhan in its jaws, and then shaking him as if he were a rag doll.  In that same instant, the glowing skull appeared once more, this time right beside Selena.
“Now, you will die little witch!” it chuckled as it gently caressed her skin, sending a jolt of electricity like living fire through her flesh.
“Not today, wisp!”  Mox cried as she loosed a volley of flashing blue bolts at the skull, causing it to drift away from Selena.  “You may have fooled these primitives, but I know you for what you are!”
“A pity you’ll never have the opportunity to prove your theory!” the skull sneered.  It shot through the air towards Mox, but before it could reach her, Davrim shouldered her bodily aside as he brought his falchion crashing down upon the apparition.  The skull cracked, and its light flickered and faded.  Cursing, it sped away into the gathering gloom. 

Stevhan managed to free his arms enough to drive his sword into the crocodile’s side.  The animal loosened its grip and the ranger rolled free and to his feet, trying to ignore the pain from ribs he knew must be broken.  Around him, the battle continued to rage.  The lizard king was skirting the bulk of the fighting, moving around behind one of the huts to flank the companions.  Meanwhile, three new lizardmen had emerged from another hut.  They were bigger than the other warriors, though not as large as the king.  Tattoos covered their skin in odd patterns, and one of them drove a pair of large, frilled lizards before him.  
“Tungdill!”  Stevhan called up to the circling eagle.  “We’re in trouble here!  Little help?”
The eagle shrieked once, in a decidedly irritated tone, but a moment later, Adam appeared in a flash of light.  The ant launched itself at the oncoming lizards, and the battle spiraled to new levels of violence and chaos.

Stevhan wasn’t the only one who had spotted the lizard king’s flanking maneuver.  Leaf, concealed among the shadows at the fringe of the melee, saw the big lizardman closing in behind an unsuspecting Velox.  The elf stalked forward to intercept, but just as he stepped from the darkness, the lizard king spun suddenly and rammed his trident home.  Leaf blinked, too stunned to feel the pain immediately.  He looked down at the three tines buried in his abdomen.  Still, he did not cry out.  Velox heard the scuffle behind him and turned just in time to see the elf slash with both blades at the throat of the giant lizardman.  The king drew back at the last second, suffering two deep but nonlethal wounds, and then he wrenched his weapon from Leaf’s limp form.  Velox’s eyes went blank as the Spirit took him.  He began babbling in the celestial tongue of the angels as he rushed towards the lizard king.  The brute blocked his first swing, but when the oracle swung back, his reverse cut opened the reptile’s belly from rib to rib.  The king seemed to barely notice.  He slammed his trident straight down and through Velox’s foot.  The oracle did not cry out, but only chanted more loudly as he drove his sword up through the wound he’d already opened and into the lizardman’s heart.  The king staggered back, fell to one knee, and then toppled onto his side.

Velox’s battle fury left him as his companions mopped up what was left of the lizardfolk tribe.  He knelt next to Leaf and breathed a silent prayer of gratitude when he saw that the elf still lived.  Within the large hut, Selena hurried to the terrified red-haired boy bound in the corner.  
“Are…are you a witch?” he stammered.
“Yes,” Selena replied.  “But not the kind that eats young boys, nor turns them into toads.  What’s your name, boy?”
“Tig,” he said, “Tig Tannerson.”
“Your father sent us,” Selena said.  “He said you’re due for a hide-tanning when he gets hold of you.”
The boy didn’t flinch.  “Begging your pardon Miss Witch, but I’d beg my da’ for a beatin’ compared to what these lizard monsters did.  They hung me over up and let their pets try and bite me, and they left me up to my neck in the swamp!  Please, will you take me home now?”
“Don’t worry,” Selena said, an uncustomary softness in her tone.  “You’re safe now.”

Davrim followed Selena into the hut, and nodded in approval as she took the boy out.  It was then that his gaze caught on the large, leathery egg that sat in a nest against one wall.  A lizardfolk egg.  Looking to make sure he wasn’t observed, the inquisitor wrapped his cloak around the egg and tucked it into his pack.
____________________________________________________________

When the rulers of Kardashia returned to Veritas with young Tig in tow, their people greeted them as heroes once more.  Tig’s parents were overjoyed beyond words, with all thought of punishment banished at the sight of the child they’d believed dead.  Yet not all of the townsfolk turned out for the homecoming, and Mox took note of this immediately.  Her eyes found Oleg’s among the crowd of onlookers, and the Royal Treasurer communicated much with that look.  She nodded her head towards the castle, and Oleg nodded in return.

Later, the seven companions gathered in the great hall of the keep with their council.
“We’ve got trouble,” Oleg said without preamble.  
“Don’t we always,” Mox sighed as she rubbed her temples.  “What is it this time?”
“An agitator,” the old trader growled.  “He came into town not a day after you left.  Ever since then, he’s been holding court outside the town hall, stirring up all sorts of trouble.  At first, no one paid him much mind, but the rumors of troll doings are still out there, and the longer you were gone, the more the crowd grew.  Now, I’m afraid there’s a fair number of the folk who are listening a lot closer to what he’s saying.”
“It’s true,” Svetlana agreed.  “The man’s name is Grigori, and he’s a silver-tongue if I’ve ever heard one.  The people are growing restless and scared.  Perhaps if they were to see their leaders in person, and hear your voices reassure them?”
“We’ll handle it,” Mox said with finality.
_____________________________________________________________

The crowd gathered before the town hall numbered close to one-hundred.  Standing before them, literally upon a soapbox, was a rotund fellow, well-dressed, with a thin beard and goatee.  When he saw the rulers approach, his eyes lit up like beacons.
“There they are!” he shouted, his voice carrying above the din of the crowd.  “Your so-called leaders!  They rode into town today as though they were conquering heroes, returning that poor, lost waif to his grief-stricken parents!  But wait!  The boy went missing weeks ago!  The Heavens only know what horrors he was forced to endure at the hands of his savage captors while those tasked with saving him went glory-seeking and treasure hunting instead!  Is this what you expect from your leadership?”
“No!” the crowd roared, even as they parted to let the companions pass.
“I want him silenced!”  Mox hissed quietly into Davrim’s ear.
“Good people!”  Velox called as he stepped to the front of the crowd.  “I know not this man, yet I do not deny his right to speak!  Yet are his words so honeyed that you have forgotten what it is we have accomplished here?  We’re building this nation from nothing with our bare hands, all of us together!  We sought near and far for the boy Tig Tannerson, and in our travels, indeed, we did encounter threats to our nation, and discovered riches to fill our kingdoms coffers!  These we dealt with, and returned the boy alive as soon as his whereabouts were revealed!”
The crowd murmured, some nodding their heads in agreement, while others still frowned and grumbled.
“And where did they come by this information?”  Grigori bellowed.  “Ah yes, the swam witch known as the Old Beldame, a creature known to feast on the blood of infants, and to steal the souls of brave men!  Not only have your rulers consorted with one so foul, but they also count another witch as one of their own!”
His finger stabbed towards Selena.
“The Magister’s words and actions speak for themselves!”  Velox replied.  “I owe her my own life on more than one occasion, and many of your witnessed her actions against the walking dead that fell upon our citizens when we first broke ground here!  As for the Old Beldame, her reputation if falsely earned!  She holds no ill will towards our country!  Indeed, she seeks only to be left in peace, but offers her services to our nation should we need it!  It was, in fact, she who gave us the crucial information not only to rescue Tig Tannerson, but also to end the looming threat of hostile lizardfolk upon our border!”
More of the townsfolk nodded in agreement, and Grigori licked his lips nervously.
“What of she who has been named Baroness then?” he asked.  “What do you truly know of her?  She counts herself among Brevoy’s elite!  Why, she’s nothing more than a pawn of Restov, sent here to expand their interests!”
“Again, I entreat you,” Velox retorted, “judge Lady Mox on what your own eyes have seen, and your own ears have heard!  Everything that Mox has done, she has done for you!  Her skill and experience among the courts of Brevoy are needed if we are to grow and contend with our more powerful neighbors to the north!  We are a free nation, and we shall show the world the power of a truly free people!”
This time many among the crowd began to cheer.
“Do not listen to this man!”  Grigori cried.  “He and the so-called Royal Executioner are followers of Iomedae, a Power foreign to these lands!  They seek to impose a state religion upon you, and rob you of your freedom of choice!”
Velox rolled his eyes.  “Davrim and I honor our Lady of Justice, this is true, but we ask none to follow us against their will!  If our words and our deeds convince some among you to seek knowledge of our Lady, then we are pleased to give it, but we seek to coerce no one, and we honor all religious paths that serve the good of our country!  Kardashia!”
Now the entire crowd took up the cry, roaring their approval.  Several of them picked up stones and fruit and began to hurl them at Grigori.  The instigator cowered and leaped from his perch, running at a full sprint towards the edge of town.
“Follow him,” Mox told Stevhan.
______________________________________________________________

Grigori sat by his fire, poking at it with a stick in irritation.  When he saw the shadows detach themselves from the surrounding forest, he gave a small cry, but then quickly composed himself.  He’d been expecting this.
“So now you’ve come to kill me, have you?” he asked, raising his chin.  “Typical.  Do your worst then!”
“Nonsense,” Mox said calmly, a smile playing over her full lips.  “We come in peace, and only wish to talk.  You believe that we are your friends, don’t you?”
Her hands worked subtle gestures, and the magic flowed through her words.  Grigori’s eyes glazed over and he nodded enthusiastically.
“Of course, my Lady,” he nodded.  “You’re welcome to share my fire.”
“Some other time, perhaps,” Mox said.  “I was merely wondering, why did you speak such ill words against me back in town?”
Grigori cast his eyes down.  “My apologies, my Lady.  I…I was merely following orders.”
“What orders, exactly?”  Mox asked.
“I was sent to sow dissent among your people,” Grigori mumbled, “to spread distrust with the hope of having your overthrown.”
“And whose orders were these?”  Mox cajoled.
“I…I cannot say,” Grigori replied.  “My life would be forfeit were I to reveal it!”
“Come now,” Mox said reassuringly.  “Surely you know that I would never allow you to come to harm.  You can trust me.”
Grigori met her eyes, and he did indeed trust what he saw there.
“I was sent by agents of Fort Drelev to the west,” he said quietly.
“You’ve done well,” Mox said, touching him on the shoulder.  “You shall be rewarded for your faith.”

Mox and the others stood at the edge of Grigori’s fire, speaking in hushed whispers.
“My decision if final!”  Mox said harshly.  “This man has committed treason against our country, and even in Brevoy the punishment for such an offense is death!”
“Then let us take him back to Veritas and give him a proper trial!”  Stevhan pleaded.
“The outcome would be the same!”  Mox snapped.  “It will waste time and resources!”
“So is this your idea of justice, boy?”  Tungdill growled, turning to Davrim.
“Justice will be served,” the inquisitor replied tonelessly, “one way or another.”
“Then proceed dispensing it!”  Mox commanded.
Davrim nodded and turned back towards the campfire, his hand on the pommel of his sword.
“Yah haven’t heard the end of this, girlie,” Tungdill snarled.  “Not by a long shot!”


----------



## JollyDoc

*SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER*

Diplomacy is the rule as the companions contine exploring their new lands...

1)  A dust-up between a nixie and some loggers leads to heated words between Tungdill and Mox.

2)  Gnomes in distress lead to new mysteries

3)  Who could refuse a crying dryad...especially when evil trees need killin'?


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Amazing update! Nice tactics with the Lizardmen camp - might well have worked if it hadn't been for that damn wisp...  And the trouble brewing with Tungdil and Mox - is it character-based or alignment-based? 

Only three agenda items on your teaser - short session?


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:


> Amazing update! Nice tactics with the Lizardmen camp - might well have worked if it hadn't been for that damn wisp...  And the trouble brewing with Tungdil and Mox - is it character-based or alignment-based?
> 
> Only three agenda items on your teaser - short session?




Mox and Tungdill's woes are character based...the elite vs the people.  

There was a lot of diplomacy/role-playing this past session.  Takes more time.


----------



## Tamlyn

Wow! Just stumbled across this and am thoroughly loving it. I really enjoy the flavor of discovering the unknown and establishing a nation. I've gotta find this AP.

Now to read your older stuff JollyDoc.


----------



## JollyDoc

Tamlyn said:


> Wow! Just stumbled across this and am thoroughly loving it. I really enjoy the flavor of discovering the unknown and establishing a nation. I've gotta find this AP.
> 
> Now to read your older stuff JollyDoc.




Welcome, Tamlyn!!  Hope you enjoy your ride with us!


----------



## Supar

Tamlyn said:


> Wow! Just stumbled across this and am thoroughly loving it. I really enjoy the flavor of discovering the unknown and establishing a nation. I've gotta find this AP.
> 
> Now to read your older stuff JollyDoc.




another slave on the JD drug


----------



## JollyDoc

WHO SPEAKS FOR THE TREES?

The sound of unintelligible cursing echoed through the woods.  Just visible through the trees, a small wagon sat mired in the middle of a swiftly flowing river as the waters threatened to overwhelm its sides.  Two ponies hitched to the wagon floundered in the swirling waters, close to panicking.  Two more wagons sat safely on the far bank.  A group of gnomes, several battered and bruised, stood by shouting and bickering among themselves.  As the companions emerged from the trees, the gnomes spotted them, and several of them called out.
“Help us!  Please!” they cried.
“We don’t need their help!” one of the gnomes, obviously the leader, snapped.
“We’re done listening to you, Jubilost!” one of the others retorted.  “You’re the one that got us into this in the first place!”
“You boys sort it out amongst yerselves!”  Tungdill growled.  “We’ll save yer haul in the meantime.”
He and Stevhan quickly waded into the river and cautiously approached the ponies.  The animals rolled their eyes wildly, but the presence of the druid and the ranger seemed to calm them.  Though their sides still heaved in fear, they allowed themselves to be touched.  Tungdill quickly unhitched them from the wagon, and then Stevhan led them back to shore.  Tungdill then scrambled atop the wagon, and when Davrim tossed him a coil of rope, he caught it and lashed it securely in place.  
“Now lads!” he called.  “Heave!”
Velox, Davrim and Stevhan wrapped the rope around their hands and hauled with all of their strength.  At first the wagon didn’t budge, but then slowly, inexorably, it began to move.  Several tense moments, and grueling pulls later, the wagon was safely back on shore.  The gnomes cheered and surrounded the companions, pumping their hands and pounding them on their backs.  The leader, sporting a black eye and a swollen lip, approached sullenly.
“I guess we owe you our gratitude,” he said glumly.  “You’re welcome to join our fire tonight.”
___________________________________________________________

“I’m Jubilost Narthropple,” the gnome leader introduced himself.  “Me and my crew are exploring this region, doing some surveying and mapping.  We’ve got our eye out for an abandoned dwarven outpost in these parts.  Don’t suppose you’ve come across one?”
“Dwarves don’t abandon anything,” Tungdill grumbled.  “They always come back, even if it’s a hundred years later.”
“Yeah, well…,” Narthropple cleared his throat, “we’re just mapping and surveying, like I said.  Anyway, we got jumped by a bunch of thieving kobolds today.  We showed’em what-for, but not before they panicked the ponies and sent’em into the river.  Guess we're lucky you came along.”
“Have you found anything interesting in your explorations?”  Velox asked.  “We’re doing some exploring of our own.”
“You know,” Tungdill said in a low-pitched voice to Mox, “surveyin’ is another word for spyin’.  Maybe we oughta just execute the lot of’em.”
Mox fixed him with a cold glare, and the dwarf smirked as he relit his pipe.
“Maybe we have, and maybe we haven’t,” Narthropple snapped at Velox’s question.  “That sort of information is valuable.  What have you got to trade?”
“Well, as I said,” Velox replied, “we’ve done some exploring ourselves.  Perhaps we could trade information.”
Narthropple seemed to consider this, then nodded slowly.
“I suppose that could work.  Let’s see what you’ve got.”

In the end, Narthropple’s maps proved very valuable indeed.  He told them of a dryad grove two days to the west, and an abandoned keep a day’s travel to the south.  He’d also stumbled across what he believed to be a hodag den to the north, as well as the hunting grounds of a forest drake.  Lastly, he told of a lone giant his band had seen wandering the hills to the south.  The companions thanked the gnomes for their assistance and, after passing the night in their camp, took their leave early the following morning.
______________________________________________________________

Mox decided that they should search out the abandoned keep that Narthropple mentioned.  It might make a suitable location for a new town, she reasoned.  Their path there, however, would take them through the Narlmarches and the area the gnomes had said belonged to a dryad.  They’d only put one day between themselves and the gnomes, though, when they stumbled upon something wholly unexpected.  The river they’d been following made a sharp bend, and widened into a deep pool dotted with lily pads and fringed with waving reeds.  Several freshly felled trees lay beside their stumps on the shore of the pool, their crowns dangling in the water among fading tendrils of mist.  A half-dozen, angry-looking men stood a distance away from the pool, their glares fixed on two other men who stood, axes in hand, at the edge of the water.  In the middle of the pool, a woman treaded water, her head the only thing visible above the surface.  

“My Lady!  My Lords!” one of the men cried out when he saw Mox and the others.  He immediately went to one knee, as did his companions.  Only the two men on the pool’s edge remained standing.  
“What is going on here?”  Mox demanded.
“I’m Corax the Woodsman,” the man who’d spoken replied as he rose to his feet again.  “That witch attacked us!”  He pointed towards the woman in the pool.  “It’s getting so’s a decent man can’t make a living with all these damnable fairies in the woods!  Now she’s got Jensen and Barts there ensorcelled!”
Mox looked more closely at the woman in the water, and noticed that she was not, in fact, human.  Her skin was pale blue, and her hair deepest green.  Her ears were tapered, like an elf’s, and her eyes had no whites.  
“Nixie,” Tungdill offered.  “River fey.”
“I would say that tale contains but a kernel of truth,” the nixie said.
“Then what is your side, Miss…?”  Mox asked.
“I am Melianse,” the nixie said.  “I politely asked these humans to leave after I found them cutting down my trees.  I was forced to charm two of their number after the one called Corax threatened to hang me from the nearest tree to ‘drip dry.’  Those trees had been growing here for over 200 years.  I would dare say they deserved a better fate than serving as some grubby peasant’s slop table.”
“You see what I mean?”  Corax shouted.  “She’s crazy!”
“Surely there are other groves that you could harvest,” Mox said to the woodsman.
“Beggin’ your pardon, My Lady,” Corax bowed, “but them’s Coachwood.  Rare in these parts…and valuable.”
“Coachwood, hmm?”  Tungdill mused.  “If I ‘member rightly, there was a grove of them up near the Tatzylriver, where them folks are settlin’ that new town.”
“Would that work?”  Mox asked.
“Yes’m!”  Corax nodded.  “That’d do just fine!  Now if only that witch’d gimme back my men!”
“There is still the matter of five trees that I’m owed,” Melianse said calmly.  “If I’m not compensated, I will take a human life for each one.”
Mox’s face became clouded, and anger flashed in her eyes.
“You may not have heard,” she said coldly, “but the so-called Stolen Lands are now part of the Barony of Kardashia, of which I am the Baroness.  I will not be black-mailed for what are rightly our resources to begin with!”
“You tell’er, m’Lady!”  Corax and the other loggers whooped.
“A lofty claim,” Melianse replied, her voice ice, “but claiming the land, and holding it are two very different prospects.”
As energy began crackling around Mox’s fingertips, Velox quickly stepped forward.
“We are not looking for a confrontation,” he said.  “Is there no peaceful way to resolve this?  I don’t know of any way to replace your trees.”
Melianse remained silent for several moments.
“There may be a way,” she said at length.  “There is a dryad a day’s ride west of here.”
“We’ve heard of her,” Velox nodded.
“She has in her possession several magical tokens.  If these are planted in the ground, their enchantment will allow them to instantly become full-sized trees.”
“Do ya want us t’kill’er for’em?”  Tungdill asked.
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Melianse smiled.  “But I’m sure she may want some favor in return.”
“Don’t they all,” Davrim sighed.
“If we agree to do this,” Velox said, “will you release these men?”
“Of course,” Melianse nodded.  “Does that mean we have an accord?”
______________________________________________________________

The trees ahead parted to reveal a peaceful forest glade dappled with sunlight.  A small pond lay placidly at the roots of an enormous oak tree with a scattering of leaves floating upon its surface.  Birdsong twittered from the branches high above.  A woman kneeled by the pond, quietly weeping.  She looked up as she noticed the arrival of the companions, and it was then that they saw she was not a woman at all.  Her hair seemed to be made of Fall leaves, while her gown appeared to be woven from reeds, rushes, and flowers.  
“Who are you?” she asked, wiping back her tears.  “If you mean me harm, be warmed I am far from defenseless!”
“We are not enemies,” Velox said.  “We were sent here by Melianse.  We’ve come to beg a boon from you.”
The dryad shook her head sadly.  “What have I to offer?  My life is forfeit!”
“What do you mean?”  Mox asked.  
“I am called Tiressia,” the dryad replied, “and my tale is a tragic one.  Several weeks ago, a foul and evil creature invaded these woods, and ever since then, we’ve been hunted.”
“What sort of creature?”  Davrim asked suspiciously.
“A carnivorous, intelligent plant known as a scythe tree,” Tiressia said.  “It apparently craves the taste of the flesh of my kind.”
“You said ‘we,’” Velox said.  “Are there more of you?”
Tiressia turned towards the trees and called a single, melodious note.  A few moments later, a creature emerged.  He had the upper body of a young man, but the bottom half of a goat, and a pair of small horns sprouted from his brow.  His face was a mass of bruises, and several healing lacerations crisscrossed his torso.
“This is my lover, Falchos,” Tiressia said.  “He suffered his wounds trying to protect me.  We only just managed to drive the scythe tree away the last time.  We shan’t be able to do it again.  I have appealed to the other creatures of fairy nearby, but they fear for their own safety.”
“We will deal with this problem for you,” Mox stated, “but we need something in return.  Melianse told us that you have in your possession several magical tokens…tree tokens.”
“All that I have is yours if you would do this thing for us!”  Tiressia cried.
“Then set your mind at ease,” Mox promised.
___________________________________________________________

The sweet stench of decay hung thick in the woodland clearing.  Knotted branches of sickly trees lined the perimeter, creating a thick canopy that blocked most of the sunlight and cloaked the hollow in shadow.  Withered vegetation struggled to grow in ragged clumps among the multitude of bones strewn across the forest floor.  Velox took point as the group cautiously entered the killing ground, and so it was he who first saw the tree move.  He tried to warn his companions, but the battle fury took him, and when he opened his mouth, only the tongue of the Celestials would come forth.  The huge tree surged forward, unfurling branches that ended in wicked, hook-like scythes.  As Davrim and Stevhan stepped to Velox’s side, one of the massive branches swung in a deadly arc, slashing across both the ranger and the inquisitor simultaneously.  

“I might not know much,” Tungdill roared, “but I know a little somethin’ ‘bout trees, and not a one of’em I’ve met cares fer fire!”
The druid hurled a rolling sphere of flames towards the scythe tree, and it wailed in fear and pain as its dry bark caught fire.  Davrim and Stevhan rushed in, both hacking and slashing at the dense trunk, but with two mighty swings of its limbs, the tree swatted them both away.  Before it could recover itself fully, however, Selena added her own fireball to its dilemma.  The great tree reeled, and Velox drove his sword deep into the fleshy pulp beneath the bark.  It fell, and continued to burn, becoming a massive bonfire in a matter of moments.
_________________________________________________________

Tiressia was overjoyed when the heroes returned with news of their victory.  She gladly rewarded them with six of the tree tokens, one more than the nixie required.  In addition, she promised to lend her aid in guarding the Narlmarches, and keeping them apprised of any threats within its borders.  Melianse was equally pleased when the companions returned to her pool and presented her with the tokens.  She pledged her loyalty to Kardashia, and vowed to watch the rivers along the Greenbelt for trouble or rumors of danger.  Kardashia’s influence was growing…but so were the rumors of trouble to the south…


----------



## R-Hero

Hmmm....Chester...

.
.
.
.
.
Well, alright then.


----------



## JollyDoc

*INTERLUDE*

Attn: High Judge Graham,

Davrim, 1st year judge of Iomedae, reports that bandit activity in the Stolen Lands has been reduced by at least half since our last communication. In addition, a new nation has been established, and I believe that the moral bent of this nation strongly favors that of the Lady of Justice.  I have been given a position within this nation as Royal Executioner.  I trust this meets with your approval.  I have also encountered an oracle of our Lady, who holds the position of General.  He follows the faith, but some of the finer points of our teachings are not known to him.  I have been instructing him to the best of my abilities.   I await further orders.



Dear Judge Graham,

Hello, and I send you warm wishes from the Stolen Lands. I miss you and mother terribly, as well as the other Judges.  Much has happened since I left, as you may have gathered from the documents I have included with my official report. Some of these events  have caused me to question the edicts that the Judges live by.  A man sent to sow dissent in our kingdom was executed by my hand.  I was unable to discern his true moral nature. I have also taken on a project, so to speak. It involves a lizardfolk hatchling.

With love,
Davrim


----------



## JollyDoc

NOT ALL FEY ARE FAIRIES

A ruined, circular keep loomed out of the forest, surrounded by towering, ancient trees draped with hanging moss.  Four circular towers sprouted from the cracked walls like the trunks of great trees, at least one crumbled into rubble.  Twisting vines and thick moss covered the walls in a coat of verdant green, which blended the ruins almost seamlessly into the surrounding woods.  The overgrown remains of a path led to an open, arched gateway that gaped in the keep’s eastern wall, its doors long since rotted away.  This, then, was the abandoned redoubt that Narthropple had spoken of.  Cautiously, the companions made their way around the perimeter.  On the southern side, they found an area where the wall had collapsed completely.  It was there, rather than the obvious approach of the main gate, that they chose to enter.  As they drew nearer to the walls, Selena paused, looking up at a series of complex runes carved there.
“These are elven,” she said, “but they’re old…older than any I’ve ever seen.”

Stevhan  held up a hand to stop his companions as they reached the breach.  
“Let me take a look at things first,” he said quietly.
He crept through the hole, quiet as a whisper even over the shifting rubble.  At his side, Chester was, if possible, even more silent.  A graceful tower rose out of the keep’s central courtyard, which was overgrown with bushes, undergrowth, and several sizeable trees.  Like the outer walls, the tower was draped with vines and creepers, and several small plants had taken up residence on ledges and in cracks along its sides.  The tower to Stevhan’s left stretched high into the sky, its upper reaches hidden in the forest’s canopy.  The vines that choked the tower’s exterior, which were festooned with bleached humanoid skulls, nearly obscured the dark arrow slits.  At ground level, a closed wooden door hid behind a cloak of hanging vines.  To the ranger’s right, a wooden door made from roughly-cut timber planks, obviously of newer construction than the rest of the keep, blocked the entrance to another tower.  Stevhan motioned the others forward as he moved towards the skull bedecked tower.  He never noticed the door to the tower behind him slowly crack open.

Stevhan and Chester drew closer to the sinister tower as the others scrabbled through the breached wall.  He turned once more to wave his friends forward, and that’s when the plants came alive around him.  Vines and grass twined around his legs, while nearby bushes reached for his arms.  Behind him, he heard Chester wail in pain and surprise.  He spun in time to see the cheetah lifted bodily into the air by a thick, ropey tendril that seemed to have sprouted from the tower…an assassin vine!  Chester quickly went limp as the plant wrapped tightly around his neck.  The vine dropped him unceremoniously to the ground.  Stevhan was too shocked to notice the shadowy form that emerged from one of the tower arrow slits and began climbing silently down the side of the structure.

Velox stood stunned by what was happening.  It was as if the entire courtyard had come alive.  Suddenly, a faint buzzing sound filled his ears, like the whine of swarm of hornets.  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the barest flicker of movement, and then felt a searing pain in his thigh.  When he looked down, he saw a gaping wound in his leg that was pouring blood.  An evil giggling laughter came from several yards away.  He looked around and saw a strange little creature crouched in the grass.  It was about a foot tall, with pointed ears and pinched features.  It gripped a small sword in its hand that dripped with the oracle’s blood.  
“Not so smart, are you big’un?” the quickling tittered in a high-pitched voice.  “But it’s not me you need to watch out for…it’s him!”
The creature began vibrating in place so quickly, that it shortly disappeared from view entirely.

Stevhan slashed the assassin vine completely in two as it reached for him.  Instantly, the writhing vegetation around him went still…as still as Chester.  Stevhan moved towards his friend, but stopped in his tracks as a shadow suddenly loomed up in front of him.  On the surface, it looked like a slender elf with pale, green skin that had the texture of smooth bark.  Its face was deformed, with a grotesque, toothy maw, and its hands sported razor-sharp talons.  It wore nothing but a red and black loincloth, though its arms and shoulders bore a number of scar-like patterns.  Before Stevhan could react, the thing slashed at him with its claws, and as they pierced his flesh, he felt hot poison spill into his blood.  He reeled back as the monstrosity advanced on him, its mouth opening even wider.  As it leaned in towards his throat, however, a whickering blade swung across Stevhan’s vision.  The sword glowed with holy power, and as it struck the beast’s flesh, it seared through it, lifting its head cleanly from its shoulders.  Stevhan looked behind him, stunned, and saw Davrim standing there, the inquisitor limned in golden light.  

Selena drew a pinch of shimmering powder from her belt pouch and casually tossed it towards the spot where the quickling had vanished.  In a flash, the evil little creature was limned in sparkling light.  He cried out as he was struck blind by the brilliant light.  Immediately, Mox released a volley of mystic bolts, and the fey shrieked and tried to run, stumbling through the courtyard.  As it darted past Velox, the oracle hacked down with his sword, nearly cutting the little beast in two.
_________________________________________________________

Chester wasn’t dead, but it had been a near thing.  Stevhan tended his companion’s wounds, and then secreted him away in one of the ruined towers.
“I’ll return for you soon,” the ranger promised as he pulled the door closed.
The others waited outside, at the base of the central tower.  Velox nodded as Stevhan joined them.  

The wide chamber of the main tower had an impressive vaulted ceiling.  Though obscured in places by earth and undergrowth, the hall’s floor was crafted of smooth stone tiles in multicolored pastel hues.  The walls of the chambers were decorated with faded frescoes of sylvan life, showing scenes of beautiful elves engaged in hunting, feasting, dancing, singing, and a bewildering variety of other idyllic pursuits.  To the west, a graceful, filigreed stone staircase, garlanded with flowering vines, climbed to the level above.  Cautiously, the group began to climb.  They’d gone no further than halfway, when a cloying, violet mist began to fill the hall.  The companions began coughing and choking as the mist entered their lungs.  Their heads began to fill with maddening visions of dark, moonless nights; twisted, malignant trees; and hot, streaming rivers of blood.  Clutching their skulls, they ran up the remaining stairs, desperate to escape the nightmarish poison.

The stairs ended in a circular room that featured wide windows draped with hanging vines that offered panoramic views of the keep’s overgrown courtyard and the forest beyond.  An open, circular skylight in the ceiling provided glimpses of the forest canopy overhead.  The walls between the windows were carved with exquisite, delicate nature motifs highlighted in gold and silver leaf.  A riot of flowers, plants and bushes sprouted from the thick loam that carpeted the hall’s floor, as if one were walking in a fantastic glade elevated high above the forest floor.  An elven woman stood in the center of the room, golden hair faming alabaster skin and green eyes.  She wore a flowing, white gown of archaic elven style, tied at the waist with a blood red scarf.  As the companions entered, she smiled beautifully at them, then raised her hands into the shaft of sunlight that streamed down through the open skylight.  When she did so, the vines on the wall, the grass on the floor, and even the shrubs began to writhe, wrapping and twining themselves around the legs of the heroes.  At the same time, the elven woman began to dance.  Slow and seductive at first, she quickly moved into a gyrating, whirling, grinding dervish-like performance.  Velox tried to move, but found he could not tear his eyes away from the performance.  Davrim, Tungdill and Leaf were likewise enthralled, and even Mox, whose experiences in the courts of Restov had opened her to more…worldly…diversions, found herself smitten, and growing warm all over.  
“Look away!”  Stevhan cried.
When the ranger looked at the woman, he saw that her eyes had gone crimson, her skin splotchy and veined.  When she opened her mouth, wicked fangs had sprouted and protruded over her ruby lips.  He drew his bowstring back and released, but when the arrow struck the woman, it bounced harmlessly off her flesh, as if it were made of stone.  Still, his companions were rapt…all save Selena.  The witch climbed quickly to the top of the stairs and stood beside the ranger.  She forked the sign of the Eye at the fiend.  The woman hissed, and averted her gaze, but her dancing never stopped.  Instead, her smile only broadened.
“Why don’t you fly away now, little witch?” she purred.  “I will entertain your friends awhile longer, and then I will send them after you.”
Selena felt her thoughts grow cloudy.  What the elf was suggesting sounded reasonable.  What harm could there be?  She turned and waved goodbye to Stevhan, and then floated gracefully up the to the skylight and into the air beyond.
“Now!”  the dancing lady hissed at Stevhan.  “You and I have unfinished business!”
She rushed towards him, her fingers hooked into claws.  Stevhan dropped his bow and pulled his sword in a single, fluid motion.  He swept the blade across her belly, and blood spewed like a fountain.  The woman’s eyes widened in shock.
“Iron?” she cried.
“I don’t like your kind,” Stevhan smiled.  
She tried to dart around him, opening her mouth as she moved towards Velox’s throat.  Rooted to the floor though he was, Stevhan was still able to pivot as she passed.  He swung again, hacking into her knees.  She stumbled and fell.  She looked up, one hand raised to cover her face as the sword descended one last time.  
___________________________________________________________

“A what??”  Selena asked.
Her mind was still slightly fogged, and she shook her head to clear it.
“A baobhan sith,” Leaf repeated.  “They’re monstrous legends among my people.  Twisted, evil creatures that drink the blood of the living.”
“A vampire?”  Davrim asked, his blood still boiling when he thought about how easily he’d been rendered helpless.
“Yet not undead,” Leaf said.  “They are fey.”
“I’ve never heard of so many different types of fey working together like this,” Stevhan said.
“Me neither,” Tungdill grumbled.  “Ain’t natural.  The whole thing stinks!”
“At least it wasn’t a total loss!”  Mox said.  
She held a beautifully carved statuette in her hands.  It looked like a dancing elven woman, crafted out of pure marble.  
“This looks like just the sort of thing Lily Teskertin commissioned us to find.”
____________________________________________________________

As the companions continued to blaze their way through the Narlmarches, they came upon a huge deadfall of trees and brambles that lay in a mossy heap, a mountain in miniature left from some violent windstorm several seasons past.  Numerous cave-like hollows pierced the deadfall in many places, but one particularly deep one drew the attention of the heroes.  Inside, it opened into a large, dim cavern, permeated with a heavy, animal musk.  A snarling grunt from the far side of the cave quickly identified the source.  Spikes covered the body of the vaguely reptilian creature, jutting forth from nearly every angle.  The beast’s gaping mouth was filled with dagger-sharp teeth, and a sinister crimson glow filled its eyes.  Squat and powerful, the creature’s arms terminated in massive clawed feet just as suited to digging as to rending its prey limb from limb.  With a feral hiss, it charged forward.  Mox met its charge with a huge explosion of fire that filled the entire back half of the cave, but when the flames cleared, the beast was still coming.  The companions scattered, but Selena was a step too slow.  The monster caught her on the spikes atop its head and tossed her a dozen feet into the air.  She landed in a heap against one wall.  Davrim and Stevhan charged forward while the creature was distracted, and both of them plunged their blades into its thick hide.  It spun and bit in all directions, but gradually, its movements slowed and then ceased altogether.  It was only at that point that they noticed the long spear protruding from its back.  The lumberjack had been right:  hodags did exist!
__________________________________________________________

Another day drew to a close in the gloom beneath the trees of the Narlmarches.  It was Mox who first spied the dragon.  Its yellow, reptilian eyes blinked once from the lower boughs of the tree as its gaze met hers.  She opened her mouth to warn the others, but she was a moment too late.  The creature’s maw yawned widely, and it spat out a glob of viscous fluid.  When it struck the ground amidst the companions, it exploded into a noxious, green cloud of burning, acidic fumes.  Mox managed to dive aside just before the cloud dispersed, and she answered that attack with an explosive ball of fire.  The forest drake roared and flew down from its perch, but by that time, Stevhan was ready.  The ranger, his eyes still streaming, rushed at the dragon and hewed into it with his blade.  The drake roared again, and opened its wings, intending to take to the air.  Before it could take flight, however, Stevhan struck again, this time severing its head from its long, serpentine neck.  
_________________________________________________________

EPILOGUE

“So your mind is set on this course, then?”  Mox asked.
“It is,” Leaf nodded.  “I feel that I can better perform the duties that you chose me for if I can be closer to the populace.  Being away for extended periods like this, I don’t feel like I’m doing you any good.  Perhaps if I’d been in Veritas at the time, I could have put a stop to that whole business with that rabble-rouser a lot sooner.  Trust me, it will be for the best.”
This time it was Mox who nodded.
“I understand,” she said.  “We all have to follow our own path.  I do trust you…completely.  Ultimately, I think, it shall be your endeavors that make or break our new nation.”


----------



## Zanticor

Great read again JD! Are you losing a player? I like Leaf's role as keeping an eye on the peoples sentiment. Hope you don't lose him as a NPC as well. He could always be brought back as the leader of the underground resistance to the dictatorship of Mox. Or maybe something a bit more subtle. Keep it up. I can't wait for something really explosive to happen that throws them all from their smug comfortable ruling positions.


----------



## JollyDoc

Zanticor said:


> Great read again JD! Are you losing a player? I like Leaf's role as keeping an eye on the peoples sentiment. Hope you don't lose him as a NPC as well. He could always be brought back as the leader of the underground resistance to the dictatorship of Mox. Or maybe something a bit more subtle. Keep it up. I can't wait for something really explosive to happen that throws them all from their smug comfortable ruling positions.




Leaf's player is having to leave us.  Real life calls with all its myriad demands.  Leaf will remain as an NPC, however, so look for him to pop up every now and again.


----------



## JollyDoc

Monday Night Teaser (Labor Day)

It's all about trolls as a chance encounter with a wandering giant puts the heroes on the trail of the source of all those rumors.

When the troll hideout is found, it's nonstop action as the monsters are bearded in their lair.  Who wins?  Who loses?  Who dies???  Yes...we have our first party death!!


----------



## Zanticor

Haha, you mean pc death of course... Wait, what did you say? That can't be right... 
Really? No one got away? Some lazy trolls just ended it all? Kardashia will end up in flames and anarchy. There must have been survivors. Someone must be able to to resurrect someone. Didn't the baroness leave some hairs behind for such an occasion. That must be it, for this would be a big loss for well... the internet!
I have never seen that happen in 12 years of play and it sounds like you haven't either. Just do what my players do when they die: blame it on the DM.  Can't wait for the story, or even better spoilers from the players.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Damn, that sounds nasty...but those trolls are far from lazy. 

Still, I don't believe in a TPK


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:


> Damn, that sounds nasty...but those trolls are far from lazy.
> 
> Still, I don't believe in a TPK




I should have clarified...not "party" death, as in TPK, party "member" death!


----------



## R-Hero

JollyDoc said:


> I should have clarified...not "party" death, as in TPK, party "member" death!





Of course it wasn't a TPK.

Joe would have giggled a heluva lot more...


----------



## Zanticor

Ohhh, just some party dismemberment. Happens every day. Me thinks its one of those justice league boys. Somehow monsters always go for the lawful ones. Maybe the they just taste better? Hopping for so gruesome descriptions of the dismemberment (and remembering how easy my own trolls once ripped some limbs from a small halfling thief).


----------



## JollyDoc

TROLLS

“Do you hear that?”  Stevhan asked.
“How could y’not?”  Tungdill groused.  
The ranger had brought the group to a halt along the game trail they had been following.  In the distance, all of the companions could hear a loud crashing interspersed with what sounded like deep-throated muttering and off-key singing.  Carefully, Stevhan led them forward, picking his way quietly through the undergrowth.  He stopped again and crouched as he parted two branches and peered into a small clearing.  What he saw made his mouth momentarily go dry.  A grossly fat giant, easily ten-feet tall, wandered about the clearing.  In one hand he clutched a club that looked to be made from several saplings lashed together with rope, and in the other he held a large jug which he periodically held to his lips, licking at the few last drops contained within.  
“Stoopid trolls!” the giant growled as he swung his makeshift club at a tree.  “Munguk hate stoopid trolls!!”
“Sounds like we may have found a new ally!”  Velox grinned as he stepped out of the trees.
“No, wait!”  Stevhan tried to stop him, but was too late.

“Hail!” the oracle called.
The giant gave a start as he spun around.  He reached into a sack that hung from his shoulder, dropping his jug as he did so.  His hand came out of the sack gripping a rock the size of Velox’s head, and he raised it threateningly above his head.
“Wait!  Wait!”  Velox called, raising his empty hands.  “We heard you speak of trolls.  We are also looking for trolls…to kill them!”
Munguk cocked his head, confused, but he didn’t lower his rock.
“What’choo talkin’ ‘bout?” he asked.  “What’choo know ‘bout stoopid trolls?”
“They’ve been terrorizing our lands and our people,” Velox said calmly.  “We need to find them and stop them.  What did they do to you?”
Munguk furrowed his brow, obviously thinking.  “They no let Munguk join stoopid tribe.  No let Munguk kill things!”
“I see,” Velox said, his voice carefully neutral.  “Sounds like you might be looking for some payback then.  Can you tell us where to find them?”
Munguk seemed to consider this for several moments, and then shrugged.  “Sure.  Munguk not feel like killin’ yoo now.  Yoo got wolfberry shine?”
It took Velox a moment to realize the giant was asking if he had any alcohol.
“Ah, sadly no,” he replied.  “You’re welcome to share any provisions we have, though.”

Munguk sat cross-legged in the ground and began to rummage through his bag as the companions gathered around him.  He pulled a startling array of rubbish from it, everything from mismatched boots, to a large jar containing what appeared to be a pickled sheep’s head.  At one point he plucked several strips of dry jerky from the sack and shook it in front of Tungdill.
“Dwarf jerky,” he chuckled.  “Yoo want some?”
Tungdill simply glared at him.  Finally,  Munguk pulled out a rolled sheet of animal hide and spread it out on the ground before him.  On it was a crudely drawn map, with one particular area labeled with the legend, ‘mean ugly troll-men.’
“That them,” Munguk nodded in satisfaction.
Stevhan studied the map carefully.  
“That’s about two day’s ride west of here,” he said.  “I’m pretty sure I can find it.”
“Thank you for your help, Munguk,” Velox said politely.  “Will you give us a moment to talk among ourselves?”
Munguk shrugged and waved them away.

“We can’t just let him walk away free,” Velox announced once they were out of earshot of the giant.
“Agreed,” Davrim nodded.
“Not this again!”  Tungdill threw up his hands.  “What is it with you people?  Yer more bloodthirsty than any pack o’wolves I ever seen!  We just made a deal with him, and now y’wanna kill’im?”
“He’s a murdering giant!”  Davrim snapped.  “If we let him go, he’s going to cause just as much destruction as the trolls!  Can’t you see that?”
Mox nodded her agreement as well.
“He’s a threat,” she said.  “He dies.”
Tungdill looked angrily from Selena to Stevhan.
“I have no opinion on this,” the witch said.  “Dead giant, living giant…it makes little difference to me.”
Stevhan hesitated.  “I…I have to agree,” he said finally.  “I’ve seen the devastation that giants can cause.  It would be like letting a rabid animal roam free, Tungdill.  Can’t you see?”
“All I see is how conveniently y’all make and break yer own laws,” the dwarf snarled.  “Count me out!”
He turned and stormed off into the woods.  Velox looked at the others and nodded again.

Davrim and Velox walked casually back towards Munguk.  The giant watched them curiously.  It was only when he saw their swords appear as if by magic in their hands that awareness finally reached him.  By that time, it was far too late.  Davrim struck like a snake, opening the giant’s belly with a vicious slash.  Velox quickly flanked Munguk and hamstrung him from behind.  As the giant collapsed to his knees, Davrim struck twice more, once at his chest and finally, his throat.  Munguk fell to the ground, his hand clutching uselessly towards his discarded jug.
___________________________________________________________

Two days later, Stevhan knelt beside the narrow trail they’d been following into the foothills.  He pointed out to his companions the tell-tale footprints in the mud.  Trolls.  The path continued to wind its way up the hill, a steep cliff face on one side and a sheer drop-off on the other.  At the top, the path followed a wide ledge, where the corner of a weathered stone building jutted from the side of the hill.
“That’s dwarf work, or I’m no dwarf,” Tungdill muttered.
“The outpost Narthropple told us he was looking for,” Velox said.  “Good thing he never found it.”
Three arrow slits pierced the wall, and the oracle stopped his companions before they reached them, while he crept cautiously ahead to the corner.  He peered around and could see a single, stone door, but it was broken in, darkness beyond.  He motioned Davrim up behind him, and the two of them approached the door slowly.  Velox gripped his blade tightly as he stepped around the door frame and peered into the gloom.  Three sets of glowing, green eyes stared back at him.  Trolls.

“They’re here!”  Velox cried as he crouched into his battle stance, his eyes clouding over.  Behind him, Davrim leaped to an arrow slit that flanked the door, while Stevhan took up position at another.  Around the side of the bunker, Selena and Mox rushed to flatten themselves against the wall as Tungdill transformed into a large eagle.  He spread his wings to gain altitude, but before he could take flight, a warty green arm reached through the arrow slit in front of him and raked filthy claws into his feathered chest.  Mox and Selena reacted instinctively, and with uncanny coordination.  Each spun to an arrow slit, spells upon their lips.  Twin beads of fire streaked into the room beyond, and a moment later, two explosions detonated, engulfing all three of the monsters.  

At the door, Velox held his ground like a bulwark, creating a bottleneck where the panicked, burning trolls could only come at him one at a time.  Time after time, he fended off their attacks, holding them at bay.  Davrim and Stevhan, their bows in hand, began firing shaft after shaft through the arrow slits.  Most of their shots were true, but no sooner had the arrows struck than the flesh of the trolls, where it wasn’t burned, began to knit itself back together.  
“Keep burning them!”  Davrim shouted.  

Tungdill fought through the pain, letting anger fuel him.  In his avian form, he could still bring his magic to bear, and he hurled a rolling sphere of flame through the arrow slit and into the room.  It began rolling around the chamber, sending the trolls into a wilder frenzy.  Mox stood her ground at her own slit as she lobbed mystic bolts laced with acid at any glimpse of green skin that she could see.  Under the steady barrage of arrows and magic, Stevhan saw the first troll fall.  
“One down!” he crowed.
He quickly moved to Velox’s side, but just as he got there, the troll surged to its feet again and reached for him.  Velox tried to shield him, but was just a moment too slow.   Both of the troll’s hands seized the ranger, its talons sinking into his flesh.  Then, the monster pulled its hands violently apart, rending Stevhan’s flesh into ribbons.  Its head then snapped forward, and it sank its teeth into his shoulder.  He staggered back, blood pouring from his horrible wounds.  Davrim snarled, and redoubled his fire, dropping the troll a second time.  This time, Tungdill rolled his fire sphere atop the unconscious troll, making sure it wouldn’t be rising again.  

The remaining two trolls were already seriously injured, and under Mox’s continuing barrage of acidic missiles, they both succumbed quickly.  Tungdill’s fire finished the job.  As the battle fury left him, Velox rushed to Stevhan’s  side and quickly began to pray over him as his hands tried to staunch the flow of blood.  Gradually, the ranger’s labored breathing began to slow, as did the hemorrhaging.  He opened his eyes and nodded his gratitude to his friend as the oracle helped him to his feet.  
___________________________________________________________

The barbican itself was empty of all save the roasted troll carcasses.  Two sets of stairs exited from it.  The first gave onto the bottom of a watchtower.  It was filled with a foul stench, which emanated from the layers of filth that caked the floor.  The trolls had obviously been using it as a midden.  With Velox once more leading the way, the companions started up the second set of stairs.    They led to a large chamber, whose walls had been defaced and vandalized with crude graffiti in several languages.  A large, stone table took up the center of the room.  A headless humanoid corpse lay atop its bloodstained surface.  A lone troll stood behind the table, a dripping cleaver in its hand.  Beside it crouched a creature vaguely canine in appearance.  The squat, powerful beast sniffed the air hungrily.  Foul-smelling fluids oozed from weeping sores across its scaly skin, and long streamers of drool hung from its curving teeth and oversized jaws.  It looked like some sort of grotesque cross between a troll and a bulldog.  

Despite their disgust at the scene, Stevhan and Davrim didn’t falter.  Both knocked arrows and opened fire on the troll as it leaped across the table.  The troll hound charged, snarling and slavering as it came.  Stevhan dropped his bow and rushed to meet it, drawing his sword as he went.  The hound leaped for him, but the ranger was faster, and he brought his blade down heavily upon its thick skull.  The beast fell in a heap, its tongue lolling, yet even then Stevhan could see its wound beginning to heal.  He looked up suddenly as a shadow fell across him, and he saw the troll looming over him, its cleaver raised.  Suddenly, Velox was there, hacking at the giant and beating it back.  A flurry of Mox’s magic missiles hastened its retreat.  The sorceress followed this with a scorching ray of fire, and the troll stumbled.  A moment later, its eyes drooped and if fell to the floor, snoring.  Mox turned and winked appreciatively at Selena.

At that moment, loud baying and the rattling of chains came from a hallway on the eastern side of the chamber.  An instant later, the distinct sound of a chain snapping followed.  A second troll hound bounded into the room and immediately seized Davrim by the leg.  The oracle cursed as he beat at the monster with his sword.  Stevhan joined him, and between the two of them, they quickly managed to pummel the creature into unconsciousness.  When they peered down the hallway, however, they saw two more of the brutes still chained to the wall of a small chamber at its end.  Mox pushed between the two warriors.
“I’ve got this, boys,” she smiled.
Casting, she hurled a billowing ball of flame into the room, setting the dogs ablaze.  Howling and yelping, they both burst their chains and rushed forward, a pair of fiery nightmares.  One of them locked its jaws on Davrim’s arm at the same moment that the oracle impaled it.  The second one joined its troll master in slumber at Selena’s hands. 
“Fire, acid, now!”  Mox cried.
She, Tungdill and Selena immediately went about setting the regenerating monsters on fire, and then finished the process with generous applications of conjured acid.  
__________________________________________________________

On the opposite side of the main hall from the kennel, stacked boxes, barrels, crates and bags filled a small storeroom from floor to ceiling, and lined crude wooden shelves along the walls.  A rough hole gaped in the room’s far wall, apparently leading deeper into the hillside.  Beyond was a rough-worked tunnel of much newer construction than that of the garrison.  After a dozen yards or so, it forked.  The right hand passage was short and narrow, and gave onto a wide cavern, the floor of which was littered with half a dozen pallets made of branches, leaves and smelly, uncured hides.  A pair of trolls stood in the center of the room, their talons clenching and unclenching in anticipation.  

Stevhan knelt and opened up with his bow while Velox and Davrim charged ahead.  Mox supported the ranger with her own arcane barrage.  Velox and Davrim flanked the first of the trolls and, within a matter of seconds, brought the monster down under a deluge of steel.  When the second one charged them, they both spun to meet it head-on, and in short order, it joined its kinsman on the ground.  Knowing their role well by that point, Selena and Tungdill busied themselves with making sure the trolls wouldn’t be rising again.  The others spread out around the room, concentrating on a large passage on the far side, in case the noise of their battle attracted unwanted attention.  So it was that they didn’t hear the threat from behind until it was upon them.
“What’s all the racket, ya idjits??”  came a booming voice from the barracks entry.
“Yeah!  Ya done waked us from our nap!!”  a second voice growled.
The voices belonged not to two creatures, but to a single, monstrously large, two-headed troll!  Its two pairs of beady eyes narrowed shrewdly when it understood what had transpired, and its twin tongues licked their lips hungrily as they anticipated fresh prey.

Mox acted first, hurling acid bolts at the giant.  The brute shrugged them off and lumbered forward.  Davrim leaped in front of him and swung with all his might.  The blow was devastating, and would have felled a lesser creature.  The two-headed behemoth back-handed the oracle with a bone-crushing blow.  Davrim hit the floor, his skull striking the stones with a crack.  The giant troll stalked towards him, but Velox barred his way.  The troll raised its hands to crush the oracle, but two blasts of fire and acid from Mox and Selena drove it back several crucial steps.  Velox charged, cutting his blade across both of the giant’s necks.  It fell with a boom, and Tungdill set upon it, placing a flaming sphere atop it that quickly cooked its remains to a crisp.
___________________________________________________________

The troll chief, Hargulka, roused his bulk from his makeshift throne.  He’d been hearing the sounds of battle for some time, and his patience had finally run out.  Whatever invaders had trespassed in his domain were obviously giving his people a more difficult time than he would have thought possible.  If he had to clean up this mess himself, he was going to disembowel some of his men, then make them watch as they regenerated themselves only so he could do it again.
“Kargadd!” he bellowed as he left his chamber.  “Get your lazy arse out here!”
From inside the larder, the rock troll shuffled forward, its granite-like hide grinding as it walked.  The idiot was a dense as its skin, but Hargulka didn’t need it to think, just to kill what he told it to.  They stalked into the barracks, and came to a halt as they saw the carnage there…smoldering carcasses of what used to be their kin.  Hargulka began to growl deep in his chest, hatred and rage building to a boil.

“Trouble,” Mox said as she saw the pair of trolls enter.  “Big trouble.”
She quickly began a spell, hoping to catch the two in its effect, but when the larger troll, obviously the leader, saw what she was doing, it quickly put distance between itself and its rocky cousin.  Mox had to settle for engulfing the bigger one in her fireball.  Hargulka growled beneath the cowl of flames, but he showed no sign of pain, nor weakness.  Instead, he stood up to his full height and clutched at a necklace around his throat, plucking a small, glass sphere from it.  The troll chief had learned long ago of the humans’ proclivity for using fire against his kind.  A good thing for him that the weapon worked both ways.  He tossed the small sphere directly into the midst of his enemies.  An instant later it exploded in a ball of fire twice as large as the one the sorceress had hurled upon him.

Unfortunately for the companions, they had all been relatively close together when the troll’s fireball struck, and the flames scorched and seared them for seconds that seemed like an eternity before they faded away.  
“Scatter!”  Velox called hoarsely, his throat scorched and raw.
His friends didn’t need to be told twice.  They moved quickly in two different directions, half closing with Hargulka, the others moving towards the rock troll…all save one.  As Stevhan began to run, he noted that the black and orange shadow that he was so accustomed to seeing at his side was absent.  When he looked back, he saw the blackened, smoking form of Chester still lying on the ground.  The ranger’s heart began to race, and he turned back towards the troll chief, murder in his eyes.

Velox pulled a small blue stone from his belt pouch, and cast it on the ground at his feet.  In a flash, a large column of water erupted from the stone and quickly took on vaguely humanoid proportions.  The elemental surged towards Hargulka and hammered the troll with one watery fist.  Across the hall, Davrim reached the rock troll.  The brute batted aside the inquisitor’s blows as it would a child’s, but then a blast of stinging bolts from Mox caused it to flail at its head as if bees swarmed about it.  Davrim used the moment to shove his blade between two of the rocky plates at the troll’s elbow joint.  Kargadd roared, grabbed the sword, and punched Davrim squarely between the eyes.  The inquisitor staggered back and shook his head to clear it.  Kargadd charged towards him, but the half-orc stepped nimbly aside and sank his sword in behind the brute’s knee.  Kargadd dropped heavily to one knee, but as he struggled to regain his feet, three dog-sized ants suddenly appeared around him.  Davrim smiled as he recognized the markings on Adam’s carapace, and sent a mental thank you to Tungdill.  Adam and the ants swarmed over Kargadd, biting and stinging the troll repeatedly, their poison burning his blood as it weakened him.  Within moments, the massive rock troll collapsed.

Before Stevhan could reach Hargulka, Mox lobbed a second fireball at the troll.  Again when the chieftain emerged, black and smoking from the flames, he clutched another crystal bead.  Ignoring the looming elemental, Hargulka flung the bead at the companions, and again they were engulfed by fire.  However, Hargulka quickly learned that he discounted the elemental at his own peril.  The creature brought both fists down upon the troll’s back, hammering him to his knees.  Selena stepped forward, smoke billowing from her robes, and fanned her fingers before her, fire spewing from them.  Hargulka screamed as his already charred skin began to boil and melt.  Again the elemental battered at him, and then Velox rushed in himself to deliver what would be the killing blow.


----------



## Joachim

You forgot to mention the part where the giant told us that he was just going to keep going around murdering anything he found, where he wanted to join the trolls so that he could murder humans, and where Davrim ID'ed him as being chaotic evil.  Unless I am remembering this wrong (early-onset dementia, maybe) I don't remember Tungdill having a problem with it (the dwarf jerky being a tipping point with him).

Trying to create party strife, no?


----------



## JollyDoc

Joachim said:


> You forgot to mention the part where the giant told us that he was just going to keep going around murdering anything he found, where he wanted to join the trolls so that he could murder humans, and where Davrim ID'ed him as being chaotic evil.  Unless I am remembering this wrong (early-onset dementia, maybe) I don't remember Tungdill having a problem with it (the dwarf jerky being a tipping point with him).
> 
> Trying to create party strife, no?




Well, he DID say that he was mad at the trolls because they wouldn't let him kill things.  As far as the CE part...that goes without saying...he WAS a hill giant.  Ricky/Tungdill DID have a comment there in the beginning when talk of killing the giant came around...basically Tungdill has committed to disagreeing with anything Mox suggests at this point.


----------



## JollyDoc

SUNDAY TEASER

1)  The heroes stumble across a cry for help on the way home to Veritas, and Mox finds a soft spot she wasn't aware she had.

2)  When the group reaches Veritas, they find that disaster has struck...their home was attacked while they were away!

3)  Following the trail of the assailant(s) is easy, as a path of destruction leads them into the wilds

4)  The responsible party is indeed home when the heroes arrive, and is none to pleased with the intrusion.

5)  Questions are answered, but even more questions are raised.

6)  Tungdill gets a new pet, and Stevhan gets a new companion


----------



## JollyDoc

KEEP THE HOME FIRES BURNING

It was time to go home.  The business with the trolls had been a nasty one, and disturbing on more than one level.  The level of organization that the giants had exhibited was uncharacteristic as well as unnerving.  Something about it gnawed at Mox.  First the fey cooperating when everything about their chaotic natures spoke against it, and now this.  She felt strongly that they were needed back in Veritas…to reassure the populace that the troll threat was ended if nothing else.  

They took a bit of a circuitous route back to Veritas, hoping to check off one or two more unexplored areas on their map.  Candlemere was still a mystery to be solved, but they would need a boat to reach the island.  It would be a simple matter to charter one in Veritas and then sail it across the Tuskwater to Candlemere Lake.  They trekked out of the Narlmarches and back into the rolling grasslands of the Kamelands.  On their second day out, they entered an unfamiliar stretch of the plains.  It was essentially unremarkable…no different really from the dozens of miles they’d already covered.  It was Stevhan and Tungdill that first pointed it out, however…something was different after all.  There was no wildlife…none.  Normally the land should be teeming with all sorts of small game, as well as a variety of larger fauna as well.  There was none…nothing, and nothing to account for the absence.  The land was not blighted.  There was no excess of scavenger birds.  It was very odd.

The following day, they crossed some unseen boundary after which the wildlife returned.  There was nothing, and then a few paces later, all was normal again.  That night, Stevhan separated from the group for a time.  It was the full moon again.  He returned once the moon had set, and he was not alone.  A large, gray timber wolf padded along at his side.  The ranger offered no explanation, and his companions did not ask.  The next morning, the wolf was still there, and as they set out once more, it followed behind Stevhan like a well-healed hound.

That night they camped, and set up their usual watches.  Velox no longer slept.  The oracle had taken to remaining awake through the night, watching and meditating, and then the following morning he would murmur a brief incantation, and a moment later would be look as refreshed as if he’d slept eight hours.  That particular night, he was awake as usual, and Tungdill was his watch partner.  Both of them heard the cry at the same time.  At first, it was a strange, mewling sound, like a wounded animal, or possibly an infant.  Then, however, it became an unmistakable cry for help.  It sounded like that of a woman, or a child, but in the darkness, it was difficult to determine from which direction it came.  Then, incredibly, Velox heard something different.
“Velox!” the voice called, using his name specifically.  “Please!  I’m trapped!  Help me!”
Quickly he and Tungdill kicked their companions awake.  As each of them rubbed at their bleary eyes, they too heard the cries…and each in turn heard their own name called.  Mox in particular heard the plaintive tone in the call, and she knew in her heart and soul that she must go.  She was needed and she had to go.  She rose quickly and began walking towards the edge of the firelight.
“Stevhan!”  Velox called.  “Stop her!  Something’s wrong!”
The ranger didn’t hesitate.  He reached out and grabbed Mox by the arms, physically restraining her.
“Let me go!” the baroness demanded.
“Hold her.”  Velox commanded.  “Davrim, come with me.”
The inquisitor grabbed his sword and followed the oracle out into the night.

The calls became louder, more insistent the further they moved away from camp.  Gradually, they lost any trace of humanity, becoming more like barking, snarling growls.  The full moon cast its pale glow across the landscape, and Velox saw the creature step from behind a rocky outcropping.  It was a quadruped, with the long, leonine body of a predator, yet its legs were lean, more suited for running, right down to its cloven hooves.  Its head was that of a badger, but instead of teeth, its jaws were simply serrated bone.  It charged out of the darkness right at Velox.  Just before it reached him, however, a gray blur bolted between them.  The creature reared on its back feet and pawed at the snarling wolf that crouched, bristling in front of it.  Velox lunged ahead, Davrim at his side.  The pair struck simultaneously, and as the beast lowered its head and tried to buck away, the wolf seized its throat, shaking viciously.  In a matter of moments, it was over.  Whatever the strange horror had been, it was no longer a threat.
_________________________________________________________

They were still several miles away from Veritas when they first saw the smoke.  They urged their mounts into a gallop as they cut across the farmlands.  The closer they drew to the capital, the more their dread grew.  Newly plowed fields had been torn up, trees knocked down, and livestock lay slaughtered in the pastures.  Several farm houses and barns had been flattened.  Finally, they crested the hill upon which the town sat, and the scene that greeted them was horrific.  The tannery was gone…completely destroyed, and half the town hall was collapsed into a pile of rubble.  Few people wandered the streets, and those that did milled about in shock, as if they’d just come from a war zone.  Mox and the others quickly rode down the main street towards the hall.  The baroness dismounted before her horse had come to a full stop.  

“What happened here?” she demanded of one of the local militiaman posted outside the remains of the building.
“I…I…,” he stammered, his eyes wide and staring.
“We were attacked,” Oleg said.
The old trader walked slowly down the stairs to the street, his own eyes heavy with exhaustion.  
“Obviously!” Mox snapped.  “By whom?”
“Not who,”  Oleg shook his head, “What.  It was an owlbear.”
“ ‘An’ owlbear?”  Stevhan asked, shocked.  “Just one?”
“I know what you’re thinking,” Oleg said, “but this weren’t no ordinary critter.  Big as a house, it was!  I never seen such a thing in all my years.  Ripped through here like a cyclone!  Killed a couple a dozen folks, too.”
“When?”  Mox asked.  “When did this happen?”
“Two days ago,” Oleg sighed.  
“Well, I suppose this trail won’t be hard to follow, wouldn’t you agree Stevhan?” she snapped.
“I think I can manage,” the ranger nodded.
“Don’t you think you ought to say somethin’ to the townsfolk?”  Oleg asked.  “They’ve had quite a shock.”
“When I bring them back this creature’s head,” Mox said as she mounted her horse, “they’ll have all the reassurance they need!”
_________________________________________________________

The monster’s back trail was, indeed, easy to follow.  It had left a path of destruction in its wake that even a blind man could have followed.  After two days of hard riding, they finally reached its end.
“Oh no,” Stevhan said as he called the others to a halt.  “It can’t be!”
But indeed it was.  All of the companions recognized the territory to where the trail had led them.  It was the same, strangely depopulated area through which they’d passed only days before.  The reason why it was empty of game was now painfully obvious.  The trail itself led to a dark, gaping hole which yawned in the side of a large, rocky hillock.  The earth in front of the cave had been trampled flat, and shattered trees and stumps bore the marks of powerful claws.  Tufts of dark fur were snagged in branches, and huge feathers littered the ground.

“Hold on there, lad,” Tungdill said as Velox started towards the cave mouth.  “No sense rushin’ in blind when we’ve got scouts to do that fer us.”
The druid turned in a slow circle, chanting and shaking his sprig of mistletoe.  A moment later, three bright spots shimmered in the air around him as Adam and two more ants flashed into existence.
“Off you go, boys!”  Tungdill made shooing motions towards the cave.  “If it moves, kill it!”
The three giant ants scuttled quickly towards the opening, and the others followed, several yards behind.

The cave mouth widened into a large cavern, filthy with carrion and offal.  A bewildering variety of molds and fungi grew on the floor and walls, some as big as a man, and countless insects scuttled about underfoot, feeding on the mounds of waste.  A large tunnel sloped away down to the south, while two smaller ones opened to the east and west.  As the ants entered the cave, two large mushrooms to either side of the entrance suddenly opened mouth-like apertures in their caps and began emitting ear-splitting shrieks.
“Damn it!”  Tungdill snapped.  “Shriekers!  Ye can bet yer arses that anythin’ alive in this place knows we’re here now!”
The ants ignored the fungi and continued quickly across the cavern.  When a trio of purplish mushrooms began trundling towards them, ropy tentacles extending from beneath their caps, however, the insects stopped, their mandibles clicking sharply.  Davrim, Stevhan and Velox drew their swords and rushed to intercept the attacking fungi.  As Davrim moved in, one of the flailing tentacles raked across his arm.  Where it touched his skin, the flesh began to dissolve.  The inquisitor cried out as he hacked at the disgusting thing.  Velox and Stevhan each struck out at the other mushrooms as well.  With their hive mentality, the three ants attacked with precise coordination.  The fungi collapsed under the assault, dissolving into puddles of goo.  Abruptly, the shriekers went silent.  When Velox turned, he saw that Mox and Selena had burned both of them to cinders.  
“Too little, too late,” Tungdill shook his head.  “It’s comin’.”

When the owlbear lumbered into the cavern from the far tunnel, it stunned all the onlookers into silence.  The creature was enormous, its head nearly brushing the ceiling twenty feet above.  Its claws were easily over a foot long each, and its beak looked like it could snap the head off a grizzly.  Incongruously, the beast wore the remains of a fine set of leather barding, as if it were someone’s personal mount.  Before Tungdill could stop them, the trio of ants rushed headlong at the monstrosity.  With an almost casual flick of a paw, it completely shredded the first of the insects, causing it to instantly vanish without a trace.  Adam bravely, but foolishly darted forward and sank his mandibles into the brute’s foot, after which the owlbear stomped him into oblivion, then subsequently leaned down and snapped up the last of the ants in its massive maw.  The companions braced themselves as the titanic creature turned its feral gaze upon them, and let out a bone-numbing screech.  Then, however, another sound came to them, more subtle, but no less disturbing…the sound of multiple sets of claws scraping on the stone behind them!  As one, they turned, just in time to see a horde of pony-sized spiders swarm into the cave.

“Guard the flank!” Velox cried.
The oracle then spun back towards the oncoming owlbear and moved to position himself between the beast and his allies, a bulwark against the oncoming tide.  Behind him, Davrim and Stevhan quickly intercepted the charging arachnids before they could reach Mox, Selena and Tungdill.  Each of them brutally and efficiently dispatched a spider, while the ranger’s wolf leaped upon a third, flipping it onto its back before savagely disemboweling it.  Mox blew a pair of arachnids into pieces with a salvo of arcane bolts, and Selena roasted another pair with a spray of fire from her hands.  The only one not paying attention to the spiders was Tungdill.  The druid watched intently as the owlbear closed on Velox, waiting for just the right moment.  When it was mere yards away, he struck, unleashing first a roaring column of fire, which momentarily obscured the monster from view, and then followed up with a raging hailstorm in miniature, centered right where he knew the owlbear to be.  As Davrim dispatched the last of the spiders, the companions turned towards the conflagration of fire and ice, their breath frozen, waiting to see what would be revealed when the storm cleared.  In a matter of moments, they had their answer.  The beast surged forward, raw patches burned into much of its flesh, while ice clung to others.  Its eyes were a maddened blood-haze, and when it reached Velox, it swatted the oracle aside as if he were a rag doll, sending him sprawling a dozen feet away.  As it continued charging forward, there was no way for Velox to move out of its path.  Stevhan saw this and, throwing all caution aside, rushed forward to his friend’s aid, a battle cry upon his lips.  The owlbear slashed him savagely with a mighty swing of its paw, sweeping him up into its embrace in a single movement.  The mauling that followed was unimaginable in its ferocity.  Stevhan went limp after the first few seconds, but as the monster bent its beak for the kill, the ranger managed, with his last breath, to shove his blade between its jaws.  Enraged, the owlbear flung his limp body aside.
“Unleash Hell!”  Mox cried.
An avalanche of fire, acid and arrows followed as she, Selena, Tungdill and Davrim threw everything they had at the owlbear.  This time, when the smoke cleared, the beast lay in a smoldering heap, undeniably dead.
___________________________________________________________

Stevhan was still alive, if just barely.  While Selena and Tungdill tended to his injuries, Mox led the others ahead into the owlbear’s den.  The huge cavern was bare except for a jumble of bones, rocks, fur and feathers that sat piled against the far wall.  As the companions approached the debris, they saw that one of the carcasses in the pile was still mostly intact.  It looked to be that of a human male, still dressed in a fine suit of chainmail.  A glittering ring rested on one decomposing finger.  It was carved in the shape of a serpent battling an eagle, and looked to be made of pure gold.  In the other hand, the corpse clutched a piece of rolled parchment.  Davrim carefully plucked loose both the ring and the parchment.
“Look at this,” he said as unfurled it and passed it to Mox.
“It looks like a map of the Greenbelt,” she said, her brow furrowing.  “This is Veritas!” she stabbed her finger at a circled point on the map.  “And this is here!”  she indicated another circled point.  “What the Hells does this mean?  Was this attack planned?”
“The fey, the trolls, now this?”  Davrim said.  “I think we need to get home soon.”

In a chamber adjoining the main cavern, they came upon an even more bizarre find.  A buzzing filled the cave, and in the far portion lay the giant carcass of some great beast, surrounded by at least half a dozen human bodies.  As they drew closer, it became obvious that the animal was another owl bear, but a normal sized one.  The dead bodies were dressed as bandits, and had obviously not fared well.  There were also the corpses of two owlbear cubs among the fallen, and huddled near its dead mother, a half-starved cub chirped piteously.  By this time, Tungdill, Selena, and a pale, but upright Stevhan had rejoined their friends.  Tungdill crouched down and began to coo softly to the baby, and slowly, it came to him.  The druid gently picked it up and offered it some food from his pouch, which it devoured greedily.  
“Are we in the business of collecting orphans?”  Selena asked.  “First Davrim’s lizardboy, now this?”
“It’s fine,” Mox waved her off as Tungdill glared at the witch.  “It will only serve as further proof to our people of our success here.”
__________________________________________________________

There was one small, final cave to investigate before they left.  Rotting leaves and other vegetation filled it.  Water dripped from slimy vines and roots that hung from the ceiling, collecting into puddles on the uneven floor.  At first, it appeared no different from any of the other fungi-infested caves they’d seen…that is, until one of the piles of fungi came to life.  It was a shambling mass, roughly man-shaped, but twice the size of a man.  Before anyone else could move, Mox casually flicked a ball of fire at the thing, confident that a creature made of plants would quickly fry to a crisp.  She was disappointed a moment later when the wet, swampy matter that comprised the thing’s body merely smoked and smoldered beneath her conflagration.  It lumbered forward, and as Davrim moved between it and Mox, it hammered the inquisitor with one trunk-like appendage.  Velox leaped at it as Mox released a barrage of acidic bolts.  Tungdill pointed one hand towards the ceiling, and as he did so, a small thundercloud gathered there.  A moment later, a bolt of lightning struck the shambler, but to the druid’s dismay, the creature seemed to swell and grow in the midst of the strike.  It was short-lived.  Davrim regained his feet and drove his sword completely through the thing, before withdrawing it and hacking off both its arms.  It collapsed into a rotting, wet heap.
“That’s how you kill something,” he smirked at Tungdill.
His smile disappeared as a mass of wriggling, blood-red centipedes erupted from the dead shambler.  They swarmed over the half-orc, and involuntarily, he screamed as he slapped and batted at them.  His cry turned to one of pain as flames washed over him, burning every last one of insects alive.  
“Sorry,” Mox shrugged as Davrim gaped at her through his singed eyelashes.  “It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”


----------



## JollyDoc

SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER

1)  Word of a new cult in town causes Selena and Mox to get religion.

2)  Candlemere remains a task to be completed...and it becomes an excercise in mayhem!


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

That was a mean thing to do...making us believe in a PC death let alone a TPK.  




> 1) Word of a new cult in town causes Selena and Mox to get religion.



Don't tell us they joined in? 




> 2) Candlemere remains a task to be completed...and it becomes an excercise in mayhem!



They did not! 

Or did they? 

I would not put it beyond your group to acutally resolve this...


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:


> That was a mean thing to do...making us believe in a PC death let alone a TPK.
> 
> 
> 
> Don't tell us they joined in?
> 
> 
> 
> They did not!
> 
> Or did they?
> 
> I would not put it beyond your group to acutally resolve this...





I simply said there was a party death...and Chester was a member of the party...

However, Stevhan did, indeed die for real in the owlbear fight, but his player used a Hero Point (from the Advanced Players Guide) to prevent said death.

As for the cult, trust me, hilarity ensues!

As for Candlemere...the situation was resolved...'nuff said.


----------



## R-Hero

Is it just me or is the Judge and Oracle of Iomeda a little blood thirsty??
 (Joachim/Velox/Rich might could explain it better)

It reminds me of the old cartoon of Daffy Duck jumping up and down screaming _"Shoot him now, shoot him now!!"_

I'm not so sure that Ol' Civilar Hawkins could have gotten that by Helm (or J.D. for that mater) 

Of course there is this new nation-building-thing going on...
I guess we could just call it 'frontier justice' and leave no witnesses.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

JollyDoc said:


> As for Candlemere...the situation was resolved...'nuff said.



Wow...just wow...


----------



## Joachim

R-Hero said:


> Is it just me or is the Judge and Oracle of Iomeda a little blood thirsty??
> (Joachim/Velox/Rich might could explain it better)




Like you said, it's frontier justice, and we aren't paladins.  The Judge isn't even good (LN).  "Bring lawlessness into our town and we will give you a fair trial, followed by a first-class hanging...minus the fair trial."


----------



## JollyDoc

THAT OLD TIME RELIGION

The rulers of Kardashia were greeted as conquering heroes when they returned to Veritas bearing both the head of the slain owlbear, as well as one of its cubs.  A makeshift parade was held on the spot as the companions rode into town, and the celebration lasted long into the night.  At one point during the evening’s festivities, Jhod Kavken approached the leaders when they were finally able to grab a quiet moment.  

“I’m sorry to interrupt your fete,” he smiled grimly.
“But you’re going to do so anyway,” Mox sighed.  “What’s the crisis this time?”
“I have it on good authority,” the High Priest replied, “that a cult of Gyronna has taken root in our town.  I didn’t have the opportunity to discuss this with you when you were last here, what with the recent attack and all.”
Mox quirked one eyebrow expectantly, waiting for more.  Behind her, unnoticed, Selena’s eyes narrowed, but she kept her face carefully neutral.
“The hag-goddess,” Davrim explained after a few moments.  “She is the patron of hatred, extortion and spite.”
“There are many tales of communities in which her cults have sprung up,” Jhod continued.  “Inevitably, they tore themselves apart from within.  If they are indeed here, we need to root them out before they have the townspeople at each other’s throats.”
Mox mulled the information over for a minute before she nodded.
“Alright, what leads do you have so far?”
“None, I’m afraid,” Jhod sighed.  “That’s one thing that makes these cults so dangerous…their ability to operate in secrecy, all the while infiltrating the normal day-to-day society.”
“If I recall correctly,” Davrim interrupted, “these cults tend to be comprised only of women…specifically, adulterous wives, embittered prostitutes, and spurned lovers.  Perhaps Leaf could put out some feelers, and surreptitiously find out how many women in the town match those profiles.  It couldn’t be that many, could it?”
Mox smiled.  “Never underestimate the amount of bitterness a woman can hold in her heart.  Nevertheless, it sounds like the best starting point we’ve got.  Let’s make it happen.”
_________________________________________________________

As it turned out, Leaf’s contacts came up with exactly twelve women who fit the criteria.  
“Since these women seem to have a bit of an…issue with men,” Mox told the others, “it seems only logical that Selena and I should be the ones to conduct this investigation.”
“Do you think that’s safe?”  Davrim asked.
“We can take care of ourselves,” Mox replied.  “Besides, we’re just going to be asking a few questions.  What could go wrong?”

The first woman on the list turned out to be the wife of a well-to-do merchant who, according to Leaf’s sources, had recently begun an affair with a local farmer in response to her husband’s unabashed philandering.  Mox and Selena had decided to take the approach of subtly insinuating that they might be interested in forming a support group of sorts for women who’d been wronged by the men in their lives.  However, the merchant’s wife was incensed that they should even imply that she’d be involved in such a thing!  She didn’t care if Mox was the Baroness, or the Queen of Korvosa herself!  She stormed off in a huff, leaving the sorceress and the witch a bit nonplussed.

Their second attempt went somewhat better.  A barmaid named Trixie had recently found herself unceremoniously dismissed by the handsome and wealthy suitor who’d promised to marry her.  Selena and Mox waited until she’d finished her evening shift before approaching her with the same proposition that they’d tried previously.
“Why…why would you want to do something like this?”  Trixie asked suspiciously.  “You surround yourselves with men.  Everyone knows that!”
“They have their uses,” Mox said dismissively, “as long as they remember their place.”  She leaned in conspiratorially.  “You don’t really think that this whole ‘kingdom’ thing is for real, do you?”
“What do you mean?”  Trixie asked.  “Isn’t that what you’re trying to do?”
Mox laughed.  “You’re a naïve girl!  What we’re trying to do is bide our time until the right moment…then we will seize complete power and subvert all of these sheep to our will!”
“Really?”  Trixie’s eyes widened.
“It’s true,” Selena nodded.
Trixie looked around furtively to make sure no one was listening too closely to their conversation.
“Find me here three days from now,” she whispered, “on the night of the full moon.  I have some people that I want you to meet.”
_________________________________________________________

The first night of the full moon found Mox and Selena, both heavily cloaked, standing in a shadowed alley with Trixie.
“We’re going out to the old Johnson farm,” the barmaid whispered.  “It’s been empty since the owlbear attacked.”
‘Did you get that?’ Selena thought silently.  She had taken the liberty earlier in the evening of setting up a Message spell between herself and Velox.
‘I did,’ the oracle replied.  ‘We’ll be nearby if you need us.’

There was little left of the Johnson farm save the foundation of the barn itself.  Trixie quickly led Mox and Selena around the back side to the door of a root cellar, and knocked three quick times.  The door was pushed open from inside, allowing dim light to spill out.  Trixie hurried them down the steps and pulled the door shut behind them.  The cellar was arrayed like a crude church, with wooden benches lined up like pews, and a crude altar set up at the far end.  Oil lamps guttered along the walls, while black candles melted slowly on the altar itself.  Behind it, a crude drawing of an eye was drawn in what looked like dried blood.  Five women turned on the pews as the newcomers entered.  They ranged in age from a girl in her late teens, to a matronly woman easily approaching fifty.  All of them were dressed in shabby shifts, and wore small amulets in the shapes of eyes.  When Trixie removed her cloak, she wore the same.  Standing near the altar was a sixth woman of indeterminate age, dressed like the others.  Her eyes were piercing, and she held a curved dagger in her hand.  She smiled coldly when she saw them enter.

“Ah,” she said, “I see Sister Trixie has brought us guests, and prestigious ones at that!  To what do we owe this honor?”
Mox and Selena drew back their hoods.
“It is as we told Trixie,” Mox said.  “We all have our roles to play, and we have played ours to the hilt.  In the days to come, we shall have need of loyal partners to see our ultimate goal of bringing Brevoy to its knees to fruition.”
“As for myself,” Selena added, “as you may or may not be aware, my homeland is Irrisen, and I am quite familiar with the ways of the Angry Hag.  I think there is much we can learn from one another.”
The priestess smiled.  “That remains to be seen.  For now, join us in our ritual tonight, as we ask Gyronna’s blessing over our endeavors, and make to her a sacrifice.”
It was only then that Mox truly heard the small sound she’d first noticed upon entering the cellar.  A weak whimper.  The priestess reached behind the altar and came up holding a wriggling, crying babe.
“May our Dark Lady accept this offering, as she has accepted so many before!”
The other women began a low chant as the child was laid upon the altar.
‘Now!’ Mox called.

A moment later, the cellar door was smashed asunder as the men rushed inside.  Tungdill thrust his hand towards the ceiling, and a column of fire suddenly engulfed the priestess.  Velox quickly stepped to the side and clocked one of the women with the pommel of his sword, sending her swooning, unconscious, to the floor.  Mox cast a brief spell, and a second cultist went rigid, immobilized.  Selena reached out and seized another by the arm, channeling electricity through the woman, causing her to collapse into convulsions.  The priestess stumbled from the flames, screaming and blind.  Stevhan silenced her with an arrow through her throat.  
“You will all surrender immediately!”  Mox cried.  “Or you will face death just as quickly!”
The women who were still capable of doing so, threw down their weapons, some of them weeping openly.  
“You are all hereby under arrest!”  Stevhan said.  “Cooperate, and you may be shown mercy!”
___________________________________________________________

As it turned out, mercy was in short supply.  The leader of the cult had been a woman named Malgorzata Niska, a local midwife.  When the truth finally came out, her fellow cultists admitted that she had spent the past several months stealing newborns for sacrifice, and replacing them with changelings.  The people were at first stunned, then grief stricken, and finally, angry.  There was indeed a trial, but at best it could have been called perfunctory, especially once the changelings were rooted out, and their families were left devastated.  Cheers greeted every fall of Davrim’s blade as the cultists were summarily executed in the public square of Veritas.  

In the days that followed, it was time to both rebuild, and continue the country’s expansion, but for the rulers of Kardashia, one nagging problem still remained unsolved…Candlemere.  The idea of leaving the so-called haunted island unexplored ran counter to what was best for their fledgling nation.  Superstition and unfounded fears would only lead to future unrest and doubt.  So it was, that a few weeks after the trial of the cultists, the six companions set out once more, this time aboard a chartered fishing vessel that took them the length of the Tuskwater, and then into Candlemere lake itself.  The small island in the middle of the great lake loomed out of the mist, and the boat captain dropped anchor a good mile from the shore.  He would not take his vessel closer.  The companions were provided a dingy, and they rowed towards the island after admonishing the captain to await their return for at least two days.

The island was covered with thick brambles and stinging nettles, and as the group pushed their way through the undergrowth, Stevhan and Mox found themselves becoming physically ill as some toxin in the plants entered their blood.  In the center of the island, a half-collapsed stone cylinder, surrounded by a swath of rubble, was all that remained of the famed Tower of Candlemere.  Still, as the companions approached it, all of them felt overcome with a strong feeling of unease, as if something were watching and waiting for them.  The tower itself was disappointingly empty.  The stones were carved with strange runes, and though Selena could feel the age of the ruins in her bones, the meaning behind the runes eluded her.  

As they searched among the rubble, the feeling of being observed became almost tangible.  It was Velox who first noticed the dim, floating orb of light hovering at the edge of the tower.  He turned to shout a warning, and when he turned back, the light was right in front of him.  It flared brightly, and a sizzling arc of electricity leaped from it to the oracle.  His hair stood on end as the energy coursed through him.  
“Get back, lad!”  Tungdill called as he conjured a hail of stones from thin air. 
 The rocks pummeled the glowing orb, knocking it temporarily to the ground.  It quickly recovered, but as it flew towards Selena, Velox swung at it, his sword reverberating as if he’d struck a stone wall rather than an ephemeral globe of light.  It wavered for a moment, but still managed to unleash another jolt of lightning at the witch.  Selena’s eyes rolled back in her head as she swooned.  The orb began to pulse rapidly as if it thrilled at the thought of her death.  Instead, its own demise came from a volley of Mox’s magic missiles.  It pulsed once more, and then vanished altogether.  

“That was it??”  Mox asked.  “That was the secret of Candlemere??  A ‘wisp?  Gods, but people can be such superstitious fools! “
She huffed as she began spreading out her camping gear.
“We’ll stay here overnight to prove to the fisherman that the place is no longer haunted,” she continued.  “Then we’ll return home tomorrow and let the people know that Candlemere now belongs to Kardashia!”
__________________________________________________________

What followed that night became the stuff of legend in Kardashia.  Mox was wrong.  It wasn’t just ‘a ‘wisp’ that was responsible for the tale of the Candlemere Lights…it was an entire colony of them.  The second ‘wisp attacked about an hour after sunset, and the third about an hour after that.  All night long they kept coming, and time-after-time, the six companions fought them off.  They recognized the gravity of their error after the sixth assault, but by the time the twelfth came, they had hit their stride.  True, the creatures were as difficult to hit with a sword as a patch of swamp gas, and true they seemed to shrug away most magic as if it were naught but cantrips, but Mox knew that the elemental force of her arcane bolts worked every time, and Selena discovered that her hexes, not being magic in the strictest sense, also seemed to catch them off guard.  Their true weakness, however, was their incomprehensible inability to work as one.  Hour after hour they came, but only singly, and so it became a marathon of attrition, and in the deep of the night, when finally two hours passed with no attack, the heroes knew they had won.  By dawn, the fisherman had brought their boat to shore, having seen the brilliant and terrifying light show all night long.  Mox and her companions never told the specifics of their tale, but they didn’t have to.  Some tales take on a life of their own…


----------



## gfunk

Thought I'd drop a note and say hello.  I was recently re-reading our old SHs including City of the Spider Queen, Bastion of Broken Souls, Shackled City, Age of Worms, and Savage Tide.  Gaming with you guys was definitely one of the most enjoyable times of my life.  Pity I had to move out of Alabama.

Game on and I hope you keep up the SH tradition!


----------



## JollyDoc

gfunk said:


> Thought I'd drop a note and say hello.  I was recently re-reading our old SHs including City of the Spider Queen, Bastion of Broken Souls, Shackled City, Age of Worms, and Savage Tide.  Gaming with you guys was definitely one of the most enjoyable times of my life.  Pity I had to move out of Alabama.
> 
> Game on and I hope you keep up the SH tradition!




G, you don't know how often your name comes up around the table with remembrances of your old characters and shenanigans!  As for City of the Spikder Queen, I was going through some of my things this past weekend, and found the copy of it you printed out for me with all the annotations.  Classic!  Hope things are going well out in Cali.  Your little girl's a beauty!


----------



## JollyDoc

SUNDAY TEASER

Years pass as Kardashai continues to grow.  

Two new cities are founded...one of them intended for the...baser natures of Kardashia's populace.

A familiar foreign monarch pays a visit to the up and coming new kingdom.

Mox becomes a Duchess!

When a new threat endangers the country, Davrim makes the ultimate sacrifice!

Monuments to the nations's fallen heroes are erected throughout the tri-city area

News arrives from Restov of trouble that has befallen Kardashia's neighbor to the east.


----------



## Supar

gfunk said:


> Thought I'd drop a note and say hello. I was recently re-reading our old SHs including City of the Spider Queen, Bastion of Broken Souls, Shackled City, Age of Worms, and Savage Tide. Gaming with you guys was definitely one of the most enjoyable times of my life. Pity I had to move out of Alabama.
> 
> Game on and I hope you keep up the SH tradition!




As Jd said your legend lives on. You will always be my min/max hero


----------



## JollyDoc

Please note:  there was no SH update this week, as I am currently basking in the glow of the Jacksonville Jaguars victory over the Indianapolis Colts.  SH will return this coming week.


----------



## Abciximab

Take your time, we all want you to avoid story hour burnout. Do you have any pictures of gameplay you could post in the meantime?


----------



## R-Hero

JollyDoc said:


> Please note:  there was no SH update this week, as I am currently basking in the glow of the Jacksonville Jaguars victory over the Indianapolis Colts.  SH will return this coming week.




O.K. *Who* are you and *what* did you do with JollyDoc??

The J.D. that I left behind had a passing intrest in the footsball contests-but not enough to postpone a storyhour.

(The FBI is in town this week, maybe I can get them to investigate.)


----------



## JollyDoc

R-Hero said:


> O.K. *Who* are you and *what* did you do with JollyDoc??
> 
> The J.D. that I left behind had a passing intrest in the footsball contests-but not enough to postpone a storyhour.
> 
> (The FBI is in town this week, maybe I can get them to investigate.)




Well, this is actually an annual get-together with my brothers, one of whom lives in Jacksonville, and lives and breaths Jaguars football.  So, as you can see, football was not my primary reason for attending...but I didn't absolutely abhor it...not really...you know?


----------



## JollyDoc

GROWING PAINS

For a time, life continued apace for the rulers and citizens of Kardashia.  There were minor troubles…a brief feud between two wealthy families in Veritas that Mox quickly and wisely adjudicated, and a terrible flood during the Spring thaw that would have been much worse had it not been for the quick thinking of Selena and Tungdill.  The druid and witch were able to magically create dams that saved many farmsteads, not to mention lives.  Overall, however, the young nation continued to thrive, and to grow.  More and more miles of the Greenbelt were annexed as new roads were built, and new farmlands were carved out of the wilderness.  The Narthropple gnomes, having learned of the discovery of the troll-infested dwarven outpost, swore their allegiance to Kardashia in exchange for the rights to fully explore and restore the ruins.  

By late spring of that year, Kardashia’s borders had reached the ruined elven keep deep in the Narlmarches.  There, Mox and her comrades founded a new city around the ancient fortress…the town of Lohan.  Within months, the town became known for its militia…a cadre of halfling cavalry known as the Riders of Lohan, or in whispered titters out of earshot, the Low Riders.  Two months after that, as the summer heat began to envelope Kardashia, civilization finally reached the Tatzyl River ford, where the pioneers that had petitioned to set up a trading post there were thriving.  With the completion of a major road to the area, the wilderness outpost quickly grew into a thriving community dubbed Fort Spears.  Within several months, the new town quickly gained a reputation as a destination for those with more…diverse tastes.  A brothel opened in short order, and there was growing excitement when news broke that a gladiatorial arena would soon be following.

In early autumn, Kardashia was abuzz with word that a foreign dignitary would soon be arriving for a state visit.  This caused ripples of excitement, as it could only mean that the fledgling nation was finally getting recognition as something more than a vassal state of Brevoy.  The dignitary, as it turned out, was none other than King Herc I, monarch of Korvosa and current occupant of the Crimson Throne.  The king’s reputation was legendary.  Tales of how he and his close companions had wrested the throne of Korvosa from the demon-queen Ileosa were bard favorites across the whole of the continent.  The people of Kardashia were doubly stunned then, to hear that King Herc had made the journey to personally congratulate Mox on attaining the title of Duchess of the Duchy of Kardashia.  In the wake of this announcement, a company of elves made a pilgrimage to Veritas to offer their allegiance to Mox, in exchange for access to the ancient ruins in Lohan, which had become the center piece of the new town.
________________________________________________________

The year turned, but as the new one dawned, there were new troubles on the horizon for Kardashia.  Rumors came of a fearsome creature terrorizing the farmlands south of Candlemere.  The monster was said to be able to turn people to stone, and had left a virtual living garden of statues in its wake.  It proved an easy task for Mox and her companions to follow the trail of the beast, but when they finally came upon it in a cow pasture, they were momentarily confused.  A dozen or more cows stood placidly in the field, showing no signs of agitation.  It was only after several moments of observation that the group realized that the cattle were not moving at all…they had all been turned to stone…all save one.  An enormous bull stalked among the petrified cows, but as it turned its glowing red eyes upon the heroes, they could see that it was anything but livestock.  The creature’s horns spanned six feet from tip to tip.  Its hide was not fur-covered, but instead looked like cut granite, and its hooves looked as if they’d been shod in steel.  It lowered its head and pawed the ground, snorting billowing green smoke from its nostrils.

Davrim and Velox stepped forward as the gorgon charged, but as it came, its mouth opened and exhaled a cloud of noxious vapor that washed over the inquisitor.  As Velox watched in horror, Davrim went rigid, his limbs becoming locked in organic stone.  The oracle threw himself to the side as the beast trampled past him, kicking him viciously as it passed.  He rolled to his feet, hacking at the brute’s flank as it rushed towards his allies.  He need not have worried.  Mox held in her hands a roiling ball of acid, and as the gorgon came for her, she hurled it into the creature’s face.  It reared on its hind legs, pawing at its face with its forelegs.  It couldn’t see Mox’s eyes turn brilliant copper, the pupils becoming reptilian slits.  She opened her mouth wide, and spewed forth a caustic spray that pitted and smoked as it covered the gorgon’s body.  As the beast fell to the ground, rolling and writhing in agony, Selena quickly put an end to its suffering with a well-placed searing bolt of electricity.  

Velox turned away from the smoldering corpse to see what could be done for Davrim.  As he approached the inquisitor, he saw a fine web of cracks begin to appear all across his body.  A moment later, the stone shattered, revealing Davrim to be hale and whole.
“What did I miss?” he asked, blinking in bewilderment.
________________________________________________________

In the months that followed, the government of Kardashia erected several monuments throughout its holdings, serving to remind the populace of the sacrifices that had been made to provide the current stability and peace they were enjoying.  In Fort Spears, a statue was unveiled that depicted Chester’s valiant death at the hands of the troll chieftain.  In Lohan, the monument was of Stevhan’s heroic near-death battle against the rampaging owlbear.  Finally, in Veritas, Davrim’s image was shown facing down the gorgon…only this time in truly eternal stone.

Unfortunately, as the year wore on, more bad news sucked away the jubilation and ebullience that had accompanied the new monuments.  First, and most inexplicably, a vicious rumor began to circulate that Tungdill’s relationship with the owlbear cub he was raising was somehow…unnatural.  This was quickly quashed by Mox, but then a second scandal broke when news broke that her administration had withdrawn funds from the national coffers to pay for certain items to “enhance the leadership capabilities of the rulership.”  This led directly to a second feud among the nobility, soon followed by the exploits of a flamboyant thief who claimed to rob from the rich to feed the poor.  It took considerable time and effort on Mox’s part to restore a sense of calm and order, but a bumper crop at harvest time helped to soothe the grumblings of the masses.  As for Tungdill’s wounded pride, Mox had a special park cleared in the middle of Veritas while the druid was away for an extended sabbatical.  When he returned, he was rendered speechless by the untamed beauty of the nature preserve dubbed Tungdill’s Bush.
_______________________________________________________

It had been two years since the owlbear attack on Veritas, and the young nation of Kardashia had settled into a quiet routine.  News from Restov was infrequent, though rumblings of civil unrest with Issia still surfaced from time to time.  Then, one cold winter morning, a messenger arrived from Brevoy bearing a dispatch intended for Mox’s eyes only.  It bore the seal of the Aldori family.  Mox called her council together before opening the missive, and then read it aloud to her companions.

_“Greetings from Restov, and congratulations on your triumphs.  I hope that we are entering a time in which these lands will be called stolen only in history texts!  Yet it would seem that for all your victories, your fellow colonists to the east have met with trouble.  The settlers of Varnhold are not responding to messengers…and indeed, some envoys have gone missing as well.  You may have noticed this on your own, but as the political climate here in Restov grows more turbulent, we find ourselves increasingly limited in the amount of aid we can send.  Certainly, we cannot send troops south to Varnhold to investigate without our overly watchful lords to the north misinterpreting the act.  And so it falls to you, I fear, to investigate the Varnhold mystery.  For if something dire has befallen the colony, you must realize  that your own could be next!
Trusting in your discretion and expedience,
Jamandi Aldori, Swordlord of Restov” _

“Varnhold?”  Mox asked as she folded the letter.  “Wasn’t that the group of mercenaries Restov sent to the Nomen Heights?”
“Led by a man named Maegar Varn,” Selena nodded.  “His band was called the Varnling Host.”
“Clever,” Mox smirked.
“Varn was the third son of Androth Varn, if I recall,” Selena continued.  “He’s a Brevic baron, Issian descent.  Maegar wouldn’t have stood to inherit, so I’m sure the opportunity to found his own colony sounded like a golden opportunity to make his own fortune.”  
Mox sighed as she tucked the letter back in its envelope.
“Guess we’re heading east.”


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Great intro to the Varnhold module! 




> …the town of Lohan. Within months, the town became known for its militia…a cadre of halfling cavalry known as the Riders of Lohan, or in whispered titters out of earshot, the Low Riders.



If this isn't the geekiest thing I've read in months... I love it.  Please don't say the halflings are led by a woman named Lindsay.


----------



## Joachim

Neverwinter Knight said:


> If this isn't the geekiest thing I've read in months... I love it.  Please don't say the halflings are led by a woman named Lindsay.




We're just keeping with our 'troubled Hollywood misses' motif...for example we find the people of Fort Spears to be Not That Innocent.  And yes, we did geek at the Riders of Lohan...I wanted them to be nicknamed the Loherim, but JD apparently liked the Low Riders better.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Fort Spears...can't believe I missed that!


----------



## Abciximab

> By late spring of that year, Kardashia’s borders had reached the ruined elven keep deep in the Narlmarches. There, Mox and her comrades founded a new city around the ancient fortress…the town of Lohan. Within months, the town became known for its militia…a cadre of halfling cavalry known as the Riders of Lohan, or in whispered titters out of earshot, the Low Riders.
> 
> …
> 
> Tungdill’s Bush…




Just smiling and shaking my head. Then Fort Spears almost went over my head because it sounded plausible. I actually had to stop and think for a moment. (“Wait… What did they rename that last town?”)


----------



## JollyDoc

SUNDAY NIGHT TEASER

1)  The heroes leave the life of rulership behind for the open road once more, this time journeying into the unknown territory of tne Nomen Lands

2)  Varnhold proves relatively easy to find...and completely abandoned

3)  As it turns out, the town is not totally empty.  Tungdill's scouting trip of the town's garrison turns up some suspicious characters

4)  The groups' attempt at a little friendly diplomacy goes south fast, and an all out brawl ensues between the squatters and the companions

5) Unfortunately, the defeat of the invaders only leaves more questions to be answered...where are the folk of Varnhold??


----------



## JollyDoc

THE VARNHOLD VANISHING

The road called to the rulers of Kardashia once more.  After two years of relative peace, the outside world once again conspired to disrupt the new order they were trying to build.  If some misfortune had indeed befallen Varnhold, then danger was on their very doorstep, and they had to discover for themselves if their people were at risk.  They set out northeast, traversing their own lands while skirting the foothills of the Tors of Levenies.  As they reached the northernmost border of their territory, they struck the South Rostland Road, which ran all the way to Restov some sixty miles to the east.  Following the trade route soon brought them to the small town of Nivakta’s Crossing.  The frontier folk there were wary of strangers, but Mox’s charms and wiles were enough to gather that the town was the point at which Maegar Varn and his companions had crossed into the Dunsward to the south.  She was also able to confirm that no word had come from Varnhold in over three weeks.

A well-traveled road led south from Nivakta’s Crossing some 30-40 miles to Varnhold.  It took the companions 4 days to make the ride, and as they drew closer to the settlement, they began to pass through worked fields, but all of the farmhouses were abandoned.  One after another, they found the same thing…empty houses, but with no signs of violence.  Instead, they discovered meals half-eaten, one shoe of a pair…all signs pointing to the owners having left in the midst of their daily activities.  Before long, they came in sight of Varnhold itself.  There was no sign of life at all.  

The first structure they approached, though fairly new, was of poor construction.  The clapboard walls had large gaps and its roof sagged alarmingly.  Behind the cottage sprawled a mud-filled enclosure and a covered shed.  The smell of decay and filth that emanated from the dwelling was horrendous.  It didn’t take long to discover the source.  Around the muddy pigpen were scattered the rotten, half-eaten corpses of a number of feral hogs, covered in clouds of fat black flies.  The far wall of the pen was collapsed, and as the companions looked at the tableau in disgust, a loud snort and squeal sounded from behind the wall.  A truly enormous boar, its tusks as long as daggers and bloodstained tromped around the corner.  It snorted in anger, shaking its head and pawing the ground when it saw the trespassers.  As it lowered its head in preparation to charge, Selena waved her hand absently, and just like that, the beast collapsed in slumber.  Davrim walked calmly over and cleanly decapitated it.

A bit further down the main street, they came upon the village tannery, the acrid stench readily identifying the business.  A fenced enclosure stood behind it, where three hides that appeared to be those of horses, were stretched upon a drying rack.  
“Somethin’ ain’t right about them,” Tungdill squinted his eyes as he looked at the hides.  “Looks like part of’em’s missin’ above the withers.”
“They’re centaur hides,” Selena said flatly.
Velox looked at her questioningly.  “Really?  Are you sure?”
Selena nodded.
“There is definitely more wrong here than we know,” the oracle said.

They passed a brewery before they came to a shallow ford that crossed a branch of the Kiravoy River that bisected the town.  On the far side, they came upon what had to be the livery and blacksmith.  The long, low building partially surrounded a yard encompassed by a split-rail fence.  A sign above a wide, barn-like entrance showed harness for a horse and a blacksmith’s anvil.  Despite the abandonment of the village, it appeared that many mounts and a great deal of livestock were left behind, trapped in the livery and yard.  A half-dozen horse carcasses, decomposed and ravaged by crows that continued to pick at them, lay sprawled in the yard.  Then, as if suddenly aware of fresh meat, the birds rose into the air in a black cloud and flew en masse towards the companions.  As they came, Selena hurled a fireball into their midst, immolating hundreds.  Mox dispersed the remaining ones with a cloud of green acid that she breathed from her mouth.

“This is pointless,” Davrim muttered as the burning crows fluttered to the ground.  “There’s no one here!  Scouring the whole town will take hours!  Why don’t we just go to the fort and see if any survivors managed to hold up there?”
“Of course,” Mox offered, “if those responsible for the missing townsfolk are still around, it would stand to reason that they too would pick such a defensible location.  I don’t favor just marching up there without knowing what we’re getting into.”
“I’ll go,” Tungdill sighed.
“You’ll go where?”  Velox asked, his eyes narrowed.
“To th’fort, ya idjit!” the dwarf snapped.  “That’s unless you’ve figured out a way t’turn yerself inta an elemental and fly over it t’spy it out.”
“I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Velox shrugged.
“’Zactly!”  Tungdill barked.  “Best if ya let th’grownups do th’thinkin’ for ya!”

The druid stepped away from the others and began slowly turning in a circle.  Gradually, he began to spin faster and faster, until suddenly, he simply vanished into a small, whirling vortex of air and rose quickly into the sky.  He sped quickly over the town towards the structure that sat on a low hilltop on the south side.  The triangular fortification boasted a palisade of sharpened stakes that left just enough gaps for archers within to fire out upon the surrounding hillsides.  The southern corners of the fort both had twin watch platforms, and the northern corner was anchored by a solid-looking blockhouse of sturdy timbers.  A thin column of smoke drifted upwards from the center of the compound.  Tungdill flew in a lazy circle above the stockade.  A flash of sunlight on metal drew his attention to the east watchtower, where he saw several helmets protruding just above the palisade.  As he looked closer, however, he saw that they were simply propped atop spears…a ruse!  He quickly looked towards the western tower, and saw the same thing…except that one of the helmets moved as he flew past, turning to watch him.  It was only then that the druid took note of the source of the smoke from the courtyard.  It was a large bonfire with a spit holding a side of beef over it.  Turning the spit was a giant!  His skin was mottled gray, his head bald, and his ears sharply tapered.  Three wolves jumped and capered around him, leaping for morsels that he tossed their way.  The giant also looked up as Tungdill passed over, then put his fingers to his mouth and gave a sharp whistle.  The druid took that as his signal that he should cut short his scouting mission.
_________________________________________________________

“Maybe they’re not hostile,” Mox mused.
“I ain’t never met a giant that wasn’t!”  Tungdill growled.
“I’ve heard of some who are actually quite goodly folk,” Selena shrugged.
“Who just happen to be barricaded inside a fortress overlooking a strangely abandoned town,” Davrim smirked.
“Still,” Mox added, “we shouldn’t go in looking for a fight unless they first offer one.  I say we approach calmly, in the open, and try to at least speak with them.  If they don’t respond accordingly, then we will have our answer.”

Between Mox and Selena, all of the companions were imbued with the ability to fly, and they quickly took to the air and closed the distance to the stockade.  As they approached, however, a solitary figure appeared through a trapdoor atop the blockhouse.  It was another giant.  In one hand he clutched a long halberd, while in the other, which was raised above his head, he held a large chunk of masonry.  
“I guess we have our answer,” Davrim said.
“That’s no giant,” Selena replied.  “It’s a spriggan.  They’re like evil little gnomes, except they can change themselves into giants as they wish.”
“Charming,” Mox said.  “He’s all yours, Davrim.”
“My pleasure,” the inquisitor snarled.

Davrim soared towards the blockhouse, his sword drawn.  He nimbly ducked under the spriggan’s whirling polearm, and then drove his blade into the fey’s gut.  He prepared to finish it off, but then, from behind him, a jet of smoking acid splashed into the spriggan’s face.  Screaming, it tumbled from the roof and down the hill below.  Davrim turned to see Mox smirking.  Meanwhile, Selena swooped in low towards the building, but as she approached, a volley of arrows flew at her from arrow slits set into the walls.  One took her squarely in the thigh, and she quickly veered upwards and over the roof line.  When she came within sight of the courtyard, her eyes widened as she saw not one, but four giant spriggans gathered below.  Fighting through the pain, she gathered her wits and began an incantation.  Around three of the spriggans and two of the wolves, huge black tentacles erupted from the ground, wrapping around them and holding them fast.  As Davrim dove for the yard to engage the free spriggan, Mox appeared over the rooftop, and dropped an explosive ball of acid on the trapped creatures, destroying them all.

Velox alighted atop the roof and lifted the trapdoor there.  Below it was a shaft with climbing rungs set into the wall.  The oracle didn’t waste time climbing.  He simply leaped in and allowed himself to fall, breaking his plummet just as he reached the room at the bottom.  He wasn’t particularly surprised to find a giant-sized spriggan in the room next to him, but it still took him momentarily aback to be standing waist high against the fey, squeezed into the small guardroom.  The spriggan raised his halberd to impale the intruder, but a sudden volley of flashing bolts zipped down from the shaft above and struck him in the eyes, briefly blinding him.  Velox lunged forward as Mox drifted down to the floor behind him.  He stabbed his sword upwards through the spriggan’s throat, and it instantaneously reverted back to its much less intimidating gnomish form as it died.  

In the courtyard, Davrim traded blows with the lone surviving spriggan, while Selena handily put the last of the wolves to sleep.  Davrim dealt decisively with his opponent, and then finished off the slumbering wolf as he headed for the main door of the blockhouse.  It was locked and barred, but a few kicks and shoulder blows had him through in a matter of moments.  He found himself in a narrow hallway, the interior wall lined with more arrow slits.
“Gods!” he shouted as he realized his mistake, and the twang of bowstrings and the hiss of arrows filled the air.

A pair of normal-sized spriggans rushed through the door into the room where Mox and Velox stood, while on the far side of the chamber another door opened.  There stood a third fey, but he looked far more intimidating than his companions.  He wore a gleaming breastplate, and held a heavy crossbow in one hand and a large, spiked club in the other.  Velox quickly lunged towards the pair of spriggans, while Mox exhaled a gout of searing acid at the leader.  He cried out in pain as the caustic liquid worked its way beneath his armor and began to eat at his flesh.  Velox danced among the smaller fey, whose polearms became entangled together as they desperately tried to stab at the human.  The oracle slashed first one, and then the other across the throat, dropping them both.  He then shoved Mox behind him just as the leader turned his crossbow upon her.  The bolt meant for the baroness glanced harmlessly off of Velox’s mail.  Before the spriggan could reload or bring his club to bear, the oracle was upon him.  His eyes widened in shock and disbelief as he looked down at the foot of steel buried in his chest.  He slid to the floor, his final thoughts being those of regret for ever having brought his people among the humans.
“Do you hear that?”  Mox asked.
Velox cocked his head, and heard shouting and crashing sounds coming from the floor below.
“Sounds like Davrim might need some help,” he said.

Davrim, sporting a pair of arrows from his leg, hammered uselessly at the door to the strong room.  He was at least out of sight of the arrow slits, but the portal was much heavier and reinforced than the outer one had been.  Suddenly, he heard shouts of surprise coming from the room beyond, and when he risked putting his eye to one of the arrow slits, he saw one of the spriggans lying dead at Velox’s feet, and another succumb to a barrage of Mox’s acidic missiles.  A third brought his halberd up to ward off the oracle, but a crashing blow from the flat of Velox’s blade to the side of the fey’s head sent it quickly into oblivion.
_________________________________________________________

“Looks like we have our answer as to what happened here,” Davrim said.
He was examining a sword they had pulled from a sack carried by the leader of the spriggans.  It was finely crafted and bore the crest of House Varn upon the pommel.  
“Don’t be so certain,” Velox said.  “You saw how easily we overwhelmed these creatures.  I can’t believe they were responsible for the annihilation of a town of two-hundred or more.  My guess is that they simply found the sword here, abandoned like everything else.”
“And take a look at this,” Tungdill said.  
He held up an exquisitely carved longbow, made of darkwood and ivory that had also been discovered among the spriggan’s possessions.
“It’s centaur make,” the dwarf said, “and not just that neither.  ‘Less I miss my guess, this here’s an ancestral relic.  No way the centaurs would’a parted with it easy.”
“There’s certainly more here than we are seeing,” Velox agreed.  “Let’s have a look around until our prisoner awakens.”

Unlike the other buildings in town, many of the rooms within the blockhouse had been thoroughly ransacked, obviously the work of the spriggans.  In one room that looked to have been a small library, they found several pages ripped from a journal or log book.  Most of them were mundane correspondences between the village and Restov, but several others mentioned troubles with the Nomen centaur tribe.  In still another ruined chamber that looked as if it might have been Varn’s personal quarters, they came upon a wall map that had been ripped to pieces, but together, Tungdill and Stevhan were able to recreate the bulk of it.  Numerous sites within two days ride of the town had been marked and bore notes as to the significance of the locations, including warnings about mudmen, spiders, landsharks and rocs.  It seemed Varn’s holdings were anything but secure.  One final notation, marked some three to four day’s ride from the town clearly bore the name ‘Nomen.’

When nothing of any further value was discovered, the companions returned to the still-unconscious spriggan Velox had managed to subdue.  The oracle made sure the creature was bound tightly and wedged into an alcove too small to allow it to grow before he tended the fey’s wounds.  His eyes fluttered open, and quickly widened in fear as he saw the big folk gathered round.
“Now you will tell us everything we wish to know,” Mox said as she loomed over the terrified fey.  “If you do not, you will meet the same fate as your leader!”
She held up a severed spriggan head for emphasis.  Babbling in his own tongue, the spriggan nodded his head furiously.
“What happened here?”  Mox asked.  “Why was your tribe in this village?  What happened to the people that lived here?”
“I…I don’t know, and that’s the truth!” the spriggan stammered in a high-pitched squeak.  “Agai,” he nodded at the severed head, “he brought us here!  Told us the big folk was gone, and done left all this loot and these fine houses for us!  On my oath, they’s gone afore we ever got here!”
Mox studied the pathetic creature a while longer before she nodded in satisfaction.
“I believe you,” she said.  “I keep my word.  You are free to go, but know that if you ever return to these lands, I shall make a coin purse from your scrotum.  Do I make myself clear?”
The spriggan nearly broke his neck from nodding as a large, wet stain appeared on the front of his trousers.


----------



## JollyDoc

ENEMY MINE

Varnhold was well and truly abandoned.  Building after building revealed the same.  No bodies, no signs of violence, save where the spriggans had been looting, and ultimately, no real clues as to what had happened to the townsfolk.  It was Tungdill who stumbled upon the first promising lead, and that quite by accident.  They were investigating a home with cheerful curtains in the windows, and a number of wooden children’s toys lying in the front yard.  As the others went through the motions of searching out the house itself, the druid caught a flicker of movement from the corner of his eye.  From behind the wood pile, a half-starved calico cat peered out at him, its eyes wide, yellow saucers.
“Well now,” Tungdill said as he squatted down.  “What have we here?  Here, kitty, kitty.”
He rummaged in his belt pouch until he found a piece of dried jerky.  The cat’s ears perked up, and it growled low in its throat.  Slowly, it crept forward on its belly and quickly snatched the food from the druid’s hand.  It started to back away again, but then its gaze locked with Tungdill’s.
“There,” the dwarf said quietly, “now we have an understanding, don’t we?”
He closed his eyes and chanted under his breath.  When he opened them again, the cat still stood, unmoving, in front of him.
“Where are your people?” he asked.
“They left in the red-sun time,” the cat replied.  To anyone else listening, the cat would have been simply mewling, but Tungdill understood perfectly.  “It was when they heard the new bird song,” the cat continued.  “I was busy eating a bit of fish, and did not follow them out.  My feeders did not come back, and I am now quite hungry!  Do you have more?”
“Found a new friend?”  Stevhan asked as he walked up.
“Whatever happened here, happened at sunset,” Tungdill replied as he scooped the cat up in his arms, “and there might have been some sort of music involved.”
“So you’re saying some sort of evil bard was responsible for what happened here?”  the ranger asked.
The druid shrugged.  “Just sayin’ what the puss told me.  I ain’t the brains o’this outfit.”
_______________________________________________________

The last building they came to in the empty town was the inn.  It was a two-story structure just off the village commons.  A sign above the door depicted a rider clinging to the back of a madly galloping horse with a green mane and a fish tail extending from its hindquarters.  The walls were painted a cheerful shade of yellow to complement the red shutters.  Scratched into the wood of the front door  was a single word… “NOMEN!”  
Inside, the common room’s tables were still set with plates of rotting food.  In one corner, facing a paper-strewn table, a giant-sized spriggan stood, silent and perfectly still, a book clutched in one hand.  The back of his skull was a shattered mess of blood and bone, though his face betrayed no notice of the wound.  A shimmering nimbus of amber surrounded the spriggan’s unmoving form.
“Fascinating!”  Selena said as she walked slowly around the spriggan.  “It’s a Sepia Sigil, a sort of warding spell that puts the target into a prolonged stasis.  Unfortunately for this fellow, it doesn’t protect you from physical harm.  My guess is that when the spell expires, he’ll be dead before he hits the floor.”
“Tragic,” Mox sneered.  “I’m more interested in what the spell was guarding.  Let’s have a look.”

The books stacked on the table included an assortment of esoteric titles such as _Secrets of the Rashalka Mounds, Iobarian Prehistory, The Centaur __Skyles of Central Casmaron, and The Untold Heritage of Taldan Armies of __Exploration_.  Among those works was an incomplete ethnography of the indigenous tribes of the Iobarian steppes, which speculated that a local tribe called the Nomens was actually an offshoot of the greater Rashalka population that broke away and relocated to the Varnhold area some time in the distant past.  Mixed in with the books were a number of charcoal sketches of a heavy jade bracelet that bore peculiar markings, attributed by the artist to the premigration Nomen centaurs.  It appeared that the owner of the books, as well as the artist, and author of the ethnography, was someone by the name of Maestro Ervil Pendrod.
“I’ve heard of him,” Selena said.  “He’s an Iobarian scholar of some renown from Oppara’s Kitharodian Academy.  Strange that he should be in such a remote locale.”
The witch found her question answered a moment later when they came upon a letter underneath the entire stack.  It was dated two months past, and was addressed to one Maestro Pendrod from Maegar Varn.  It described the discovery of a jade bracelet by a man named Willas Gundarson, Varn’s warden, on the banks of a “river of local prominence,” and requested Pendrod’s presence for further study of the artifact.

A further search of the inn revealed that none of the guest rooms had been occupied at the time of the “incident,” save one…that of Ervil Pendrod.  Among his personal effects was a small library of further reference works.  None were particularly remarkable, but Selena plucked out a particular one that looked to be very old indeed.  It was created several centuries past by one Carmyn e’Brothasa, a chronicler of Taldor’s Third Army of Exploration into the north.  One passage had been marked by Pendrod:
_“And so it was, high upon the Torres and well above the Vale’s stairs, where rises from the high water a stony isle of dire report.  Known as Vordakai’s Island to those that do live thereabout, some legend of its name doth come down through the locals.  For they speak of a guardian that doth destroy all who would set foot upon its accursed shores.  They did name no fewer than a twelvecount of their hero-knights who had left their bones upon its rocky shores over the years after having tested their mettle against its dread warden, ‘til none would any longer go there for fear of its hidden terrors.  And the name of this terror was given unto this Island.”_
Pendrod had written in the margin of the text alongside the passage.
‘Vordakai…perhaps a Nomen centaur god?’
“It would seem all roads lead to the Nomen,” Velox remarked.
“I agree,” Mox nodded.  “I can’t make sense of any of this.  We’ll set out at dawn.”
__________________________________________________________

There was nothing to indicate they had crossed into the centaur lands.  The landscape looked exactly as it had for the past three days of their travel.  Yet, within an hour of setting out from their previous night’s camp, Stevhan spotted a cloud of dust on the horizon, which quickly resolved itself into a warband of a half-dozen or more centaur warriors.  They whooped and shouted as they accelerated towards the companions, their faces painted in fearsome patterns, feathered and beaded spears held in their uplifted hands.  When they reached the travelers, they begin circling rapidly in ever-diminishing  spirals.  When they were mere feet away, they reared as one, their forelegs pawing the air.  One of them stepped forward and began barking at them in a foreign tongue.
“We don’t understand,” Mox said calmly.  “Do you speak Common?  We are here on a peaceful overture.”
The centaur scowled angrily.
“I…speak…your tongue,” he said haltingly.  “You…not welcome…here!”
“We bring a gift,” Mox said.  She nodded at Velox.
The oracle pulled out the bow they’d found among the spriggan leader’s possessions.  The centaurs gasped as one and immediately began babbling excitedly.
“You come!” the leader snapped, and then he and his warriors turned and began to gallop away, expecting the trespassers to follow.

The Nomens’ camp sat on a low hillock surrounded by a sea of grass.  A large bonfire dominated the center, around which a number of female centaurs danced in a primal rhythm long lost to the civilized soul.  A scattering of open-sided hide huts numbering no more than five score were arranged around the hollow, inside which other members of the tribe congregated, ate or slept.  Everywhere, the heavily armed and armored centaurs sharpened weapons, tended to gear, or walked patrols, all with a feral economy of movement and sound.  These were the true inheritors of an age long gone, when the steppes rang to the thunder of their herds and the fury of their war cries, while the first inklings of civilization clung to shorelines and riverbanks like children to their mothers’ skirts, afraid of the dark wilderness and its wild masters.   The entourage escorting the six companions surrounded them as they trotted through the camp.  All around, eyes turned to stare at the outsiders with open hostility.  They were brought to a large tent erected near the fire, where a noble, savage-looking horsewoman presided over some sort of ritual before a moon-shaped altar.  Several minutes passed as she completed her observances before she turned to acknowledge the newcomers.  She remained silent, her face impassive as the patrol leader spoke to her in their own tongue, gesturing agitatedly towards the companions.  After a few minutes of this, she motioned him silent.  
“Why are you here?” she snapped sharply.  “Do you seek your own deaths?”
“We have come to beg your assistance,” Mox said as she stepped forward.  “I am the Baroness Mox of Kardashia, and we crossed the Torres seeking the answer to a mystery…the vanishing of our sister holding, Varnhold.  We come bearing tokens to prove our sincerity.”
Mox nodded to Velox and Tungdill.  The dwarf unshouldered his pack and pulled out the tanned centaur hides they’d found in Varnhold.  The priestess’s face grew dark, and her hand tightened on her war spear.  Then Velox took out the bow, and the change that came over her was instantaneous.
“Skybolt!” she exclaimed.  “How did this come into your possession?”
Mox explained their mission and journey up to that point, leaving nothing out.  The centaur priestess listened attentively, her brow furrowed in concern.
“I am Aecora Silverfire,” she said when Mox had finished, “War-priestess of the Nomen, and I bid you be welcome in our land.  I am sorry to say that I have no knowledge of your vanished holding, though our people bear yours no goodwill.  Ages past, the human kingdom of Taldor expanded into the ancestral lands or our people.  This led to many wars between your folk and mine.  Even as the domain you call Rostland was established, Taldan colonists ripped through our war herds, pushing them to the fringes of our former rangelands, and farther and farther from our traditional homelands.  So great were the effects of this war, that much of our lore and identity were lost as well.  Yet something that you mentioned in the books you discovered is not unknown to me.  According to our traditions, Vordakai is a slumbering warlord form the time of the mother tribes.  There is a place to the west called Olah-Kakanket, the Valley of the Dead.  It is taboo for our people, but our traditions also dictate that we must watch the valley for signs of disturbances or strange awakenings.  Recently, one of our huntresses claimed to have seen a strange and frightful shape lumbering amid the stones of Olah-Kakanket.  Perhaps the humans of Varnhold, with their insatiable curiosity and drive to expand and conquer, entered the Valley of the Dead and found their doom.  It would be fitting.”
“I see,” Mox nodded.  “You have given us much, though you may feel it little.  We gratefully return your tribe’s relic, and the remains of your fallen, and thank you for your assistance.  Can you tell us how to find this valley?”
“I can indeed,” Aecora said, “though I fear you  journey to your own deaths if you go there.  Still…,” she hesitated, her eyes downcast, “if it is your intent to undertake this foolish quest, perhaps I might ask a boon of you.  The huntress I mentioned before, the one who saw the shape in Olah-Kakanket, she is my daughter, Xamanthe.  She is headstrong, and stubborn…like her mother, and when she demanded to know more about the site, information I could not provide, she took upon herself to satisfy her curiosity.  That was several days ago, and she has not been heard from since.  If you…find her, or find any information as to what has befallen her, I shall be deeply in your debt.”
“If she is there, we will find her,” Mox vowed.
Aecora nodded solemnly.  “Now, I’m afraid I must ask you to leave this camp.  Though you have proven your merit, I’m afraid that old animosities die hard, and my people would not welcome you here.”
“We understand,” Mox replied.  “We thank you again, and hope to meet again on better terms.”
_______________________________________________________

The journey far to the south and west where Aecora said the Valley of the Dead lay was going to be a long one, through lands both unknown and unexplored.  The companions were far from home, and completely out of their element.  Barely a day out from the Nomen territory, they found themselves in a strange landscape of huge furrows that scarred the grasslands, disrupted here and there by sinkhole-like depressions and mounds of earth and soil.
“This isn’t good,” Stevhan said ominously as he reigned his horse to a halt.  “These are bullete burrows.”
“Boo-what?”  Davrim asked.
“A land shark, ya idjit!”  Tungdill barked.
“Like what was mentioned on Varn’s map,” Velox said.

No more had the words left his mouth, than a deep rumbling began shaking the ground all around them.
“Dismount!”  Stevhan ordered.  “Clear the horses!”
His companions hastily obeyed, dropping to the ground and swatting the horses on their flanks, sending them scattering.  What seemed like only a heartbeat later, the ground around them exploded into a fountain of earth and stone.  A creature the size of a cottage erupted, all claws and armored plates, like some hideous amalgam of an armadillo and a leviathan.  It leaped straight into the air, its razor claws flailing all around it, tearing into Velox and Mox, who happened to be standing closest to it at the time.  Mox was thrown clear, landing heavily on her back and forcing the breath from her lungs.  Tungdill stood over her, his hands a blur, the ancient words of the druids upon his tongue.  A black cloud formed above the bulette, and an instant later, a shaft of lightning stabbed down, sending electricity coursing over its armored hide.  The moment allowed Mox a chance to regain her feat.  She began her own spell, opening her mouth and breathing out a stream of acidic bile upon the behemoth.  The bullete bellowed and turned towards her, lowering its head to charge.  Stevhan lunged in front of her, his sword ricocheting off the beast’s hardened shell.  It leaped at him, ripping at him with its fore claws, and snapping its beak-like maw down upon his leg, snapping the bone in half.  The ranger felt himself being drawn into the air, but a moment later, another caustic spray struck the beast between the eyes, eating through its skull and into its small brain beneath.  It collapsed into a cloud of dirt, opening its mouth to let Stevhan roll free.
__________________________________________________________

Once Velox had tended Stevhan’s wounds, the companions were ready to continue on their trek.  Over the course of the next several days, their travels took them through ever more inhospitable lands, every day’s travel bringing greater dangers.  They ran afoul of a colony of enormous spiders, and soon after, a band of inept ettercaps that attempted to ensnare them in an ill-conceived ambush.  Further south, they skirted the shores of Lake Silverstep, so named for its distinctive claw shape, which legend held was the footprint of an ancient silver dragon.  The shoreline of the vast lake was a foul bog of volcanically heated mud, and as the companions waded through the knee-deep sludge, they were assailed by a number of man-shaped creatures apparently formed from the mud itself.  After a harrowing touch-and-go battle, they defeated the strange elementals, looking like mud men and women themselves by the time all was said and done.

They began their long climb into the Tors of Levenies near a tall mountain known as Talon Peak.  As they made their way slowly up the craggy shoulders of the tor, they spied a lone tower, pointing like a bony finger towards the heavens, sitting atop the mountain.  Mox was intrigued.  While the ruin might contain some forgotten treasure or lore, she was more interested in the strategic aspects of its location should their kingdom continue its expansion eastward.  Via her magics and those of Selena, coupled with Tungdill’s shape-shifting, all six companions took to the air, angling towards the distant summit.  They had gone no more than halfway before they saw a vast, dark shape leap from the top of the tower.  
“Gods!”  Stevhan exclaimed.  “It’s a roc!!”
The great bird could easily have carried a full-grown bull elephant in its talons, and when it opened its beak to shriek its challenge, the sound buffeted the companions like a physical force.  Velox paused in his flight, hovering in mid-air.  His eyes flared with golden light as he summoned the power of Iomedae into his palm.  A ray of searing light stabbed out and caught the roc full in its breast, burning through feathers and skin.  Still, it continued its dive.  As it drew nearer, Mox breathed force an acidic cloud that the bird’s momentum could not avoid.  It emerged on the other side a bloodied ruin, yet death was still alive in its eyes.  Davrim struggled to draw his bow while simultaneously maintaining his wobbly flight path, but he was too slow.  The roc struck him like twenty battering rams, seizing him in one massive claw.  It banked, turning sharply on one outstretched wing, then beat both its pinions mightily, straining for altitude with its prey.  Davrim tried to free his arms so that he could reach his sword, but it was no use.  He was pinned.  Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of movement.  A small owl flapped its wings furiously, keeping pace with the great raptor.  Suddenly, it dipped and wheeled away, and Davrim knew that he should cover his eyes.  He tried to curl himself into as small a ball as possible.  A column of fire roared down from the sky, engulfing the roc, and a moment later Davrim was in free fall.  He checked his plummet, and quickly rejoined his friends as the bird’s remains tumbled towards the earth far below.

When the six companions finally reached the summits peak and the tower itself, all they found there were four, very large eggs…


----------



## JollyDoc

SUNDAY TEASER

The companions continue their journey towards the Valley of the Dead:

1.  The cyclopean empire is not quite dead, as a trio of wandering cyclops makes painfully aware.

2.  Mox takes a lover

3.  Davrim learns the hard way that not all flies are caught with honey

4.  The Valley of the Dead is reached, and the pass is not unguarded

5.  Mox wakes to a nasty surprise...one which may well cost her soul


----------



## JollyDoc

Just a quick FYI...no update this weekend.  Those of us with small children are participating in that ancient LARP ritual called Halloween, in which we prepare our offspring for their future lives as gamers.


----------



## Abciximab

A great reason for a delay if there ever was one. 

Boy you guys seem to be flying through this campaign. We have reached a point (the beginning of Rivers Run Red) where they can take 10 on most survival checks and succeed, that has helped a little. Kingdom building slows things down now though (we just did the last 3 months by e-mail).

Any secrets or suggestions?


----------



## JollyDoc

Abciximab said:


> A great reason for a delay if there ever was one.
> 
> Boy you guys seem to be flying through this campaign. We have reached a point (the beginning of Rivers Run Red) where they can take 10 on most survival checks and succeed, that has helped a little. Kingdom building slows things down now though (we just did the last 3 months by e-mail).
> 
> Any secrets or suggestions?




In retrospect, it's probably best to do kingdom building as you go.  At the beginning of Varnhold Vanishing, kindgoms size should be around 50.  By the beginning of Blood for Blood, should be about 80.  We spent one entire session just kingdom building.  Can get a little tedious.


----------



## JollyDoc

“YEA THO’ I WALK”

The journey south dragged on, the gray, cloud-laden winter sky rarely allowing more than a pale, wan light through to the barren landscape below.  The companions had seen no sign of human habitation for days, but by no means was the wilderness uninhabited.  At one point, as they crossed a narrow valley through the foothills, a large, winged shape glided low above them.  The creature had a leonine form, but its head was disturbingly humanoid, and its tail sprouted a cluster of boney barbs, which it promptly flung at its prey as it swooped past.  A well-timed lightning bolt from Selena, along with Stevhan’s archery skills, however, prevented a second pass.  

A day later, as the group threaded their way through a narrow, high-walled defile, three giant figures stepped from the rocks on all sides.  They stood easily ten-feet or more in height, but below their sloped brows, each had only one, blood-shot eye.  
“Didn’t the centaurs say something about cyclops?”  Davrim asked as he gripped his sword tightly.
“We must be getting close,” Mox replied.  “In any event, they don’t look very welcoming.  Let’s end this quickly!”
The duchess conjured a ball of caustic green energy between her hands and hurled it towards two of the giants as Davrim rushed forward to engage the third.  The two cyclopses writhed beneath the acidic explosion, but as Selena followed up with a fireball of her own, both of the brutes looked directly at her, their eyes showing a brief moment of clarity as they both dodged nimbly away from the conflagration.  Davrim struck his opponent with a vicious slash, but the giant seemed hardly to notice.  Instead, it gazed unblinkingly at the inquisitor, as if assessing him for weaknesses.  Then, moving almost too fast to follow, it swung its massive axe across Davrim’s belly.  His eyes went wide as he gaped down at the vicious wound, blood pouring onto the ground.  He barely registered the other giants charge towards his companions…specifically Mox and Selena.  The witch and the wizard could do nothing to avoid the charge, and each of them was smashed violently aside as the cyclopses leveled their axes.  Mox rolled to her back, a spell on her lips.  She flung a second acid ball towards the pair, melting the flesh from their bones.  As Davrim could only stare blankly at the giant towering over him, his vision going dark, a column of fire roared down from the sky, immolating the cyclops instantly.
“Ya owe me another one, boy,” Tungdill grinned, standing over Davrim as he collapsed.
______________________________________________________

“There’s something I need to tell all of you,” Mox announced suddenly during the middle of the day as they continued to thread their way through the mountains.  
The others turned to look at her expectantly.
“When we return to Veritas,” she continued, “there’s someone I need to introduce you to.  His name is Avashar, and he is my…protégé.”
“And by ‘protégé,’” Selena smirked, “you mean…?”
“I mean just that,” Mox kept her expression carefully neutral.  “He will be my assistant during my official duties, and from time to time he may accompany us on our endeavors as I deem fit.  Beyond that…well, that’s none of your concern.”
“The country needs an heir, not a bastard!” Tungdill grumbled.
Mox glared at the dwarf.
“I’ll marry in my own good time,” she said, “but until then, my personal affairs are just that, and I have nothing more to say on the matter!”
The rest of the day’s ride continued in tense silence.
_____________________________________________________

  For a time, the game trail the companions had been travelling followed along the rocky banks of the Little Sellen River.  At one point the river narrowed as it passed through a gully between two steep hillsides, flowing around an oblong island thick with vegetation.  The island was narrow, no more than fifteen-feet at its widest, with the river also narrowing to little over five feet on each side of it.  The cliff walls rose steeply in the narrow defile, topping fifty feet or more at their peak.  

Davrim took the point as the company was forced to travel single-file along the river bank.  His eyes shifted uneasily at their surroundings, imagining the place as perfect for an ambush.  Suddenly, as if his suspicions had summoned it, the plants in the center of the island erupted as a huge specimen, an enormous flytrap, reared up, one of its three mouth-like fronds clamping shut over the inquisitor with a loud snap.  The others started yelling and shouting as one, panic gripping the horses as they struggled to control the mounts.  Stevhan seized his bow, but before he could loose a single arrow, Selena, Mox and Tungdill struck as one.  The witch engulfed the island in roiling balls of flame, while Mox opened her mouth wide and exhaled a plume of white-hot fire, and Tungdill called down a holy pyre.  In a matter of moments, the island was a smoking ruin, the flytrap a crisp husk in its center.  Davrim burst out of the charred frond, scorched, his face blackened with ash, but still alive.
_______________________________________________________

The entrance to the Valley of the Dead, when they finally reached their destination, was marked by a series of posts decorated with bones and skulls.  They were spaced every fifty to sixty feet, a wall of warnings erected by the Nomen that ran the entire six-mile opening to the valley.  The deeper in the companions moved, the more each of them felt a strange oppression fall over them.  Even the wind seemed oddly muted as it flowed through the trees and grass, the birds and insects grew quiet, and the unusually regular crags along the surrounding mountains seemed almost to crouch in expectation.  

A mile past the last of the bone totems, the first of the gravestones appeared.  The ten-foot-tall stone steles were badly weathered, many partially or wholly collapsed, but each bore strange runes carved into their surfaces.  There were literally thousands of them leading to the farthest western point of the valley, where, as the ragged Tors of Levenies rose 300 feet above the surrounding foothills, a crack in the cliff wall allowed a wide stone stairway to wind up into the mountains.  There, the companions dismounted, tethering their mounts to graze, and then set their feet upon the oversized risers.  

The stairway seemed to go on for miles, winding along a circuitous path higher and higher into the mountains.  At one point, as the companions rounded a steep turn, a large shadow detached itself from the deeper darkness several dozen yards further up.  At first glance, it appeared to be another cyclops, but as it stepped from the gloom, it became obvious that it was something far more.  Its flesh hung from its bones in tatters, its rotting entrails protruding from its open abdomen.  It clutched a pitted battleaxe in its hands, ancient bloodstains dried to brown flakes on the blade.  
“Back off!”  Stevhan cried to Mox and Selena, who were crowded behind him.  The ranger loosed a shaft from his bow, sending it straight into the center of the zombie’s chest.  It didn’t react at all.  
“You should know by now, Warden,” Mox grinned, “I don’t lead from behind!”
The duchess began a choppy chant, then lobbed a ball of greenish-black acid at the horrid abomination.  The cyclops bellowed as even more of its flesh dissolved away, then lowered its head and charged.  Davrim stepped quickly in front of Mox, and so it was he that caught the full brunt of the zombie attack.  The inquisitor spun with the ferocity of the blow, but as he came around, his own blade was in motion, and he hacked into the putrid muscle of the zombie’s neck.  Despite its friable appearance, however, the creature’s hide was as thick as stone.  Davrim’s blade rebounded off, and struck him in his own forehead.  Dazed, he reeled backwards, the cyclops bearing down on him.  Suddenly, a flash of fur and fangs sprang over him as Wolf launched itself at the corpse’s throat.  The creature, already mortally wounded, did not rise again.
_________________________________________________________

By the time they reached the head of the stairs, it was full dark.
“We’ll set up camp here,” Mox said.  “We’re not going any further until we’ve got daylight on our side again.”
The companions bedded down, save for Tungdill and Stevhan, who drew first watch.  Despite the sharp eyes of the ranger, and the acute senses of the druid, they never saw the creature until it was already too late.  It rose from the darkness like an inky cloud of smoke from which two, pale arms ending in murderous claws extended.  Unerringly, as if searching for her in particular, it rushed towards Mox and began savagely tearing at her while she still slumbered.  
“No!”  Stevhan cried as he drew his sword and charged.
Davrim sprang awake at the sound of the commotion, but as he leaped to his feet the horror back-handed him, sending him sprawling, and then turned its attentions back to Mox, who remained frighteningly still.  Stevhan reached the creature and slashed, his blade impacting solidly despite the thing’s incorporeal appearance.  A moment later, Davrim returned to the fight, adding his own might to the ranger’s.  Then, from two different sides, a blast of fire and lightning struck the apparition, one sent from Selena, the other a fiery serpent courtesy of Tungdill.  In an explosion of heat and light, the creature evaporated.  
Selena rushed to Mox’s side, and lifter her in her arms.  The duchess remained limp, her eyes wide, staring, yet seeing nothing.
“Her mind…,” Selena cried, “it’s gone!”


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Up until that last part of the update, I was about to point out that Davrim seems to be taking the majority of the blows... 

...but how were they supposed to know that resting by night in the "Valley of the Dead" would be a bad idea?


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:


> Up until that last part of the update, I was about to point out that Davrim seems to be taking the majority of the blows...
> 
> ...but how were they supposed to know that resting by night in the "Valley of the Dead" would be a bad idea?




Live and learn, my friend.  Live and learn.


----------



## carborundum

Oooooh. that's harsh 

And that was one nasty beastie by the sounds of it.
<thumbs through the adventure>

Ooooh... that's one nasty beastie!


----------



## Supar

Hell that was easy if you ask me compared to the thing with 15 foot reach with improved grab that isnt hindred in anyway while grappling that we had to fight on a 5 foot ledge 10feet away from it


----------



## carborundum

Gotta love them Paizo adventures 



So what happened?


----------



## JollyDoc

carborundum said:


> Gotta love them Paizo adventures
> 
> 
> 
> So what happened?




I think he's referring to the fight with the huge flytrap.  A perfect storm of terrain and reach to make for a lively little fight...


----------



## JollyDoc

WHAT LIES IN DARKNESS

“All things considered,” Selena said as she leaned over Mox, “you should consider yourself lucky.”
“Lucky?”  the baroness whispered, her head pounding and her vision little more than fuzzy shapes.  
“Very,” Selena nodded.  “That thing wasn’t called a souleater for no reason.  They’re known for literally devouring the souls of their victims once they’re catatonic.  Of course, you’re a stubborn bitch.  Probably tasted bad.”
Mox tried to smile.  “Thanks…I think.  You saved my life.”
The witch shrugged.  “Just put your head back together for you…not too hard, you know?”  She smirked.  “Rest for now.  Who knows what tomorrow’s going to bring?”
___________________________________________________________

The following morning, Mox was back on her feet, though still a bit weak and wobbly.  The companions made their way to the top of the stairs, and beheld a breathtaking sight.  To the north, a jagged limestone cliff hemmed in the scene; a mighty waterfall rushed over the edge into a wide pool of black, frothing water.  In the center of the black pool stood a massive, hundred-foot-tall limestone pillar of weathered stone…the last, lonely sentinel marked where the cliff’s edge once stood in an age long past.  At various points on the island’s top, plumes of black smoke wafted up into the sky.  

“I guess that’s where we’re headed,” Davrim sighed.  “Any ideas on how we get across the half-mile of water between here and there?”
“We’re not the first ones to come this way,” Stevhan said.  
He crouched down examining the mud along the pool’s shore.
“There’re three sets of tracks here,” he pointed out.  “Looks like they’ve all been made over the last few weeks.  The oldest are these.”  He pointed to what appeared to be a set of human footprints.  “Then these.”  He indicated a larger set of humanoid prints.  “These look they were only made a few days ago.”  The last looked have been made by an unshod horse.  “Centaur unless I miss my guess.”
“We’re on the right path then,” Mox nodded.  “To answer your question, Davrim, I can take myself and five others by extradimensional travel.  That leaves one.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Selena said.  “I can provide my own transportation.”

The others gathered around Mox, and in a flash of light, they were gone, leaving Selena on the beach alone.  The witch closed her eyes, spoke a few mystic words, and rose slowly into the air.  She then set her sights on the island, and set out at a leisurely flight over the water.  She made it halfway before the shadow fell over her.  She looked up just as an ear-piercing shriek shattered the still air.  The creature looked like a large, blue-scaled dragon, but had only two legs instead of four, and its tail ended in a wicked, scorpion-like tip.  Before the witch could react, the beast seized her in its jaws and began beating its wings to gain altitude.  As its teeth pierced her flesh, however, a jolt of electricity sizzled through it as Selena’s curse of spite was triggered.

On the island, Selena’s companions watched in horror as the attack played out.  Stevhan’s bow was in his hand in an eye-blink.  He knelt, drew and released in one fluid move, and two arrows flew simultaneously and unerringly towards the breast of the wyvern.  As they struck, a searing missile of purest acid struck with them, and the wyrm tumbled from the sky, releasing Selena as it fell.  The witch stopped her own plummet mere feet short of the pool.
“That was close,” Mox breathed.
A moment later, her breathe was completely driven out of her as a second wyvern dropped onto the beach and snatched her up in its jaws.  She couldn’t even scream as she felt her ribs cracking, but as quickly as the attack had come, it was over.  The wyvern collapsed and she rolled from its mouth.  Velox and Davrim stood over it, breathing heavily, their blades covered in gore.
____________________________________________________________

At the foot of the cliff, where the beach met the limestone scarp, a dark opening in the stone beckoned, partially obscured by creepers and dangling foliage.  Stevhan knelt in the mud again, where the faintest of trails could just be made out.
“Same three sets of prints,” he said.  “All heading that way.”  He nodded towards the cave.

The darkened passageway was decorated on both sides with alcoves.  Midway down the hall, just before the second set of alcoves was another archway carved in the stone.  Upon its lintel were various runes and symbols.  An alcove just beyond the arch held an ancient amphora that had broken open, spilling its contents into the corridor.  
“Those symbols,” Mox observed as she paused in the passageway, “they’re some sort of arcane ward, or rather they were.  It’s been triggered recently.”
“This is interesting too,” Stevhan said.  He peered down at the dust on the floor.  “The prints change here.  The human prints go up there,” he nodded towards the amphora, “and then retreat back towards the beach.  The larger prints come from that direction,” he indicated the archway again, “while the centaur tracks go towards it.”
“I’ll go one better on both of you,” Selena chimed in.  “There was a wall here,” she traced her fingers around the archway, then pointed to a pile of rubble on the floor.  “Looks like it was broken down from the far side.  Might’ve been your giant, Stev.”
“Look at this, then,” Velox said, “and maybe it all starts to make sense.”
The oracle fished among the spilled contents of the amphora and came up with an elaborately carved bracelet.
“This matches the sketch we found back in Varnhold,” he said.  “So, we can assume that Varn’s warden was the owner of the human prints.  He came this far, stole the matching bracelet, and then went back the way he came.”
“He managed to trigger the ward in the process,” Mox added, “likely some sort of alarm spell.”
“Alerting a guardian, possibly,” Selena said, “which was probably sealed away behind the wall.  It broke through and followed Willas…possibly all the way back to Varnhold?”
“And then finally,” Stevhan finished, “Silverfire’s daughter came exploring…and never came back out.”

They continued on down the passage, turning a corner at the far end.  The corridor ended at a large, diamond-shaped chamber that vaulted to a height of nearly thirty feet at the center of the room.  Three wings branched off from the center.  One ended shortly at a wall of mortared stone, while the other two once bore walls that had since been broken down, revealing empty cobweb-shrouded alcoves that held only stone biers.  As the companions moved into the chamber, something stirred inside one of the alcoves, and a lumbering hulk lurched into the center of the room.  It was another undead cyclops, though it looked worse off than their previous encounter.  It had several, crescent-shaped wounds across its face, and it walked as if something was broken in one of its legs.  Velox turned towards it, his eyes glazed over.  His hands began to glow like the light of a miniature star, until he released it in a searing beam that instantly vaporized the zombie.
Suddenly a loud crash came from the opposite alcove as a second zombie burst through the stone.  This one looked hale and hearty…as much as it could considering it was already dead.  Davrim and Stevhan leaped towards it, their blades taking it low and high.  Velox delivered the finishing blow by plunging his sword completely through its chest. 
___________________________________________________________

It didn’t take Stevhan long to find the hidden door concealed in one of the alcoves.  When he triggered the release mechanism, the stone slid aside to reveal a wide natural cavern that seemed to have been artificially enlarged in places.  A vaulting ceiling nearly thirty feet above was replete with a forest of slowly dripping stalactites, while below a wide pool occupied the entire chamber save for a narrow rocky shelf that hugged the cavern wall at the level of the river outside.  

“Look there!”  Stevhan said, pointing towards the pool.
When the others followed his gaze, they saw very clearly a submerged stairway just beneath the surface.  It descended into the murk, then turned to enter a flooded tunnel some twenty feet below.  
“Have I said how much I hate water?”  Davrim asked.
“Don’t worry, my friend,” Velox said.  “With a little help from Iomedae, we will be able to breathe underwater, for hours if need be.”
“That doesn’t comfort me,” the half-orc grumbled.

The oracle cast his spell, and the companions felt their lungs began to burn slightly as they breathed.  Single-file, they entered the pool, descending beneath the surface where the light grew dim and diffuse.  The shadows created played tricks on their eyes, showing movement where there was none…or vice versa.  Stevhan did a double-take when he saw the huge shape moving towards them.  As it emerged from the gloom, he saw that it was a reptilian creature, with a long, serpentine neck and paddle-like fins instead of legs.  The ranger motioned to his companions, then drew his sword as the creature lunged towards them.  He swung his blade at its neck, but the water’s drag slowed the impact.  The leviathan clamped its  teeth down on his arm and began pulling him off the stairs towards the deeper depths of the pool.  Then Mox and Velox were at his side.  Mox opened her mouth, and a stream of frothing liquid spewed out, directly into the beast’s eyes.  It released its grip on Stevhan, and Velox drove his sword between its eyes.  It spun away into the darkness as the companions turned and hurried towards the submerged tunnel.
___________________________________________________________

The flooded tunnel gave onto a second set of stairs, which rose into a dry, oddly-shaped chamber with yet another stairwell that descended to a bronze double door.  The room was filled with ancient pottery, elaborate pieces painted primarily in black and white, and depicting lotus flowers, cities, and one-eyed humanoids engaged in everything from worship to fighting to athletic contests.  Some of them even showed vicious confrontations between these humanoids and centaurs.  

The companions didn’t tarry over the artwork, instead making their way quickly to the doors on the far wall.  Beyond the doors, a hallway extended at an angle, passing two shallow alcoves before reaching a square room.  Standing in the side alcoves were two man-sized statues of painted stone cyclopes.  More statues stood in ranks within the room beyond.  As they moved carefully down the passage, Stevhan’s eyes darted everywhere at once.  Midway down the hall, he caught a tell-tale glint of metal in the ceiling above.
“Beware!” he hissed.  “A portcullis!”
He motioned the others behind him as he crept ahead into the chamber.  As he looked to the ceiling again, he saw sixteen cleverly concealed, circular stone doors spaced evenly.  There seemed to be no exit from the room, but his sharp eyes quickly picked out a hidden one on the far side.  He moved close to examine it, and his suspicions were confirmed.  Hastily, he moved back to his companions.
“The whole room is a trap!” he said.  
“There’s nothing for it,” Mox sighed.  “We have to go through.  Lead on.”

When all of them stood before the hidden door, Mox nodded and Velox opened it.  Beyond it was another hallway, but as soon as the door opened, a portcullis slammed down, barring the way.  Behind them, the portcullis Stevhan had seen also dropped, and simultaneously, all sixteen doors in the ceiling irised open, releasing a deluge of river water that began to rapidly fill the room.  The force of the falling water was so strong that Mox, Selena and Stevhan were knocked from their feet.  Along with the water, fish from the river were pulled into the room as well, and at one point, a truly immense eel dropped right next to Selena and Mox.  Velox turned to help the women, and it was then that he saw the pair of undead cyclopes emerge from the alcoves in the hallway.  

Selena thrashed in the water as she tried to push herself away from the snapping jaws of the giant eel.  She forked her fingers at the writhing fish, and as its black eyes met hers, its nictitating lids dropped, and it fell into a deep slumber.  Davrim stepped next to the witch and cleanly lopped off the sleeping eel’s head.  
“Gather ‘round me!”  Mox shouted.  “I’m getting us out of here!”
When she looked towards Velox, however, she could see that the oracle’s eyes had glazed over, and he was yammering to himself in the strange tongue that overtook him during battle as he positioned himself to face the oncoming cyclopes.  
“Go!”  Selena said as she climbed to her feet.  “I’ll stay with him!”
Mox nodded, and as the others reached out to touch her, they vanished in a flash of light, reappearing a moment later on the far side of the portcullis beyond the hidden door.

Velox gathered Iomedae’s power to him, and conjured a roaring wall of fire that engulfed the two undead horrors.  As they writhed in the flames, he hurled a searing blast of light through one, blowing it into a thousand fragments.  From behind him, Selena pulled a thin wand from her sleeve and flicked it towards the last giant, releasing a sizzling bolt of lightning.  Then, from behind her, she heard the twang of a bowstring.  An arrow took the cyclops through one eye, and it collapsed into the flames.  Stevhan, standing beyond the portcullis, dropped his bow and, with Davrim beside him, lifted the heavy gate so that the witch and the oracle could slip under.  Quickly, as the water continued to rise in the hallway, they hurried deeper into the mountain.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Wow, the oracle has some neat tricks up his sleave! 

And I did read up on the soul eater after the last update & was relieved. Nasty thing, though.


----------



## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:


> Wow, the oracle has some neat tricks up his sleave!
> 
> And I did read up on the soul eater after the last update & was relieved. Nasty thing, though.




There're more where that came from...


----------



## R-Hero

Hmm.  No update.

Guess I'll poke fun at Rich, then.





Neverwinter Knight said:


> Wow, the oracle has some neat tricks up his sleave!




_Velox/Giovanni _gathered _Iomedae’s/Kyuss _power to him, and conjured a roaring wall of fire that engulfed the _two undead horrors/anything that moved_. As they writhed in the flames, he hurled a _searing blast of light/searing blast of green light_(and occasionally a startled paladin) through one, blowing it into a thousand fragments.

Gotta love it, battlefield control!!


----------



## JollyDoc

Sorry about the lack of updates...holiday madness has taken hold early.  Stay tuned!


----------



## Joachim

R-Hero said:


> _Velox/Giovanni _gathered _Iomedae’s/Kyuss _power to him, and conjured a roaring wall of fire that engulfed the _two undead horrors/anything that moved_. As they writhed in the flames, he hurled a _searing blast of light/searing blast of green light_(and occasionally a startled paladin) through one, blowing it into a thousand fragments.
> 
> Gotta love it, battlefield control!!




Yeah, Havok still gets a lot of talk at the table...basically anytime I cast Wall of Fire, it seems.  And yes, I use it a lot.


----------



## R-Hero

Joachim said:


> Yeah, Havok still gets a lot of talk at the table...basically anytime I cast Wall of Fire, it seems.  And yes, I use it a lot.




Age of Worms was a fun ride.  

If I find a gameing group soon, I'll have to play a warlock and steal a few of Havoks tricks/ideas.


----------



## the_mighty_agrippa

I just noticed that the kingdom was named Kardashia.  Nice.


----------



## JollyDoc

the_mighty_agrippa said:


> I just noticed that the kingdom was named Kardashia.  Nice.




Did you notice the towns of Lohan and Fort Spears??  And just wait...coming soon to a kingdom near you...Cougar Town!!


----------



## JollyDoc

THE WATCHER WAITS

The crooked stair they climbed higher into the mountain was uneven and hewn from the living stone.  It wound upward, apparently following a natural seam in the rock.  Finally, it ended at a large pair of double doors, beyond which was a large chamber paved in patterned tiles of different-colored slate and subdivided by a pair of pillars carved in the likeness of leering fiends.  Beyond them, friezes on the walls depicted processions of animal-headed creatures marching along a black river’s banks toward dual shrines in opposite corners of the chamber.  These each depicted a shadowy individual standing in a sinister longboat.  Between them stood another bronze double door, its face decorated with a mosaic of a winding river crafted from obsidian tiles.  

Davrim slowly approached the friezes, examining each in depth.
“These are depictions of Charon,” he said, “ the Ferryman of the Underworld.”
“This is fresh,” Velox commented.
He stood by one of the altars, where an unlit oil lamp stood beside a stained cup.
“This is blood,” he said.  “Still tacky.  Less than a week old I’d guess.”
“Yes, well,” Mox replied, “as much as the blood stained altars flanking the doorway to the afterlife look so welcoming, I think we should try the other way for now.”
She nodded towards a second, plainer door that stood on the far side of the chamber.  Her companions could not dispute her logic.

The plain door opened onto another long hallway, this one hewn and worked.  Another unmarked portal at its end revealed a chamber whose walls were composed of burial alcoves.  All were empty save for small stone shelf ledges which held assorted bits of pottery.  No sooner had the companions entered the darkened chamber, than two forms emerged from behind a pair of pillars.  The smoky figures and clawed hands were all too familiar, especially to Mox.
“Souleaters!”  Selena cried.  “Destroy them!  Quickly!”
Though Mox’s heart felt like a cold hand had wrapped around it, she didn’t hesitate as she hurled a fireball at the pair of demons.  The creatures split to flank the group as they sought to avoid the scorching flames, one darting towards Tungdill, and the other towards Selena.  The latter reached out one grotesque talon and raked it across the witch’s face.  Selena screamed involuntarily as she felt her mind flayed open.  Instinctively, she called the lightning to her hand, and struck out at the souleater.  Its misty form writhed with electricity, and then, from behind, Davrim attacked.  His sword struck the ephemeral friend as if it had struck a solid wall.  The souleater dissolved into a pool of mist.  Meanwhile, Stevhan and Velox put themselves between the first souleater and Tungdill.  Between the two of them, they made fast work of the creature, and a few moments later, the crypt was silent once more.
________________________________________________________

There was only one other exit from the crypt, but Stevhan prowled the perimeter once more, and his eyes picked out a well-hidden seam in the back of one of the alcoves.  Working his fingers around it, he pulled, and a section of the wall swung away, revealing a small sacristy.  A stone bench sat at shoulder height against the far wall of the room, and upon it lay a number of stone vessels and bronze stools.  A man-sized statue of a cyclops, one hand clamped over its single eye, stood against the far wall.  

Once more, Stevhan discovered another hidden exit from the room, but this time when he tried to pry it open, it didn’t budge.
“It’s magically sealed,” Mox said.  “An arcane lock.”
“Can you undo it?”  Velox asked.
The sorceress shook her head.  “Whoever placed it surpassed my abilities.”
“Well, good thing I brought my universal key then,” Davrim said as he hefted his sword.
The inquisitor began hammering at the section repeatedly, each time knocking several chunks of rock free.  Within a matter of minutes, he had smashed a sizeable hole completely through.  

A vestibule, its walls covered in lime plaster that bore a series of vibrantly colored frescoes depicting one-eyed humanoids, lay beyond the ruined portal.  Beyond this was an empty chamber.  Its walls were decorated in eye-shaped patterns and carvings, all of which seemed to be looking at a point on one wall where a single carving of a giant, stylized eye loomed.  The eye’s pupil was an intricately engraved relief roughly the size of the palm of a hand.  Mox stepped cautiously into the chamber and closed her eyes, scanning the room for traces of magic.  Her eyes flew open suddenly.
“The power here,” she murmured, “it’s overwhelming!  It’s some sort of…divination focus, but there’s also conjuration here, as if it were meant to summon something.  Gods, what happened to the people of Varnhold?”
_______________________________________________________

There was nothing more to be discovered in the oracular chamber, so the companions backtracked to the crypt.  There was only one other door leading from that room.  Beyond it, however, was a naturally hewn tunnel, not worked stone.  The passage wound several dozen yards before it opened into a wide, naturally formed cavern.  Its ceiling was festooned with stalactites, and the stink of sulfur and tar were strong in the air.  A huge lake of bubbling black goo dominated the chamber.  On the far side, a stony shelf provided purchase for a door stoop before a black wooden door swollen in its frame.  The broken stumps of two support posts protruded from the rock of the shelf as well as that of the main entrance near the pool’s edge, showing where a wooden bridge once spanned the inky soup.

Both Stevhan and Davrim saw the shadowy figure floating among the stalactites at the same time.  What might have once been a human, was currently a living corpse.  It still bore the wisps of a beard, but its flesh was foul and blackened, and its jaw hung slack.  It wore the tatters of what may have once been a robe.
“I am he who was once called Cephal Lorentus,” the corpse rasped in a voice as dry as parchment.  “I once served Maegar Varn as his magister, but now I serve a different master, and to my eternal regret, he has decreed your death!”
Fiery energy began gathering around the zombie’s hands, and it flung an orb of crackling flame that exploded among the companions with a deafening roar.  Stevhan rolled with the blast and came up on one knee, his cloak still smoldering and his bow in his hand.  He let fly with a shaft that pierced Cephal through the chest, yet it was the twin blasts of fire and searing light from Velox and Mox that sent the undead wizard spiraling into the boiling black tar.  

It was at that moment that the others noticed the screams of agony coming from the tar pool…and they did not belong to Cephal.  The wizard’s fireball had blown Davrim directly into the morass, and the inquisitor was literally being burned alive.  He tried to rise to his feet, but quickly fell back to his knees.  As he started to collapse completely, Tungdill quickly shifted his form into that of a great eagle, and swooped out to snatch the half-orc by the shoulders to drag his unconscious form back to the shore.  Selena quickly ran to his side, and Tungdill resumed his true form to assist her.  Together, their magic healed the worst of the inquisitor’s burns, and once he was stable enough to walk on his own again, Mox gathered the companions around her and instantly transported them all across the chamber.
____________________________________________________________

Another crypt stretched away into darkness.  The floor was strewn with rubble and the filth of open graves.  Sprawled on the ground was a fairly fresh corpse, that of a middle-aged Ulfen man, no more than a week or two dead at the most.  
“Wasn’t Varn’s warden Ulfen?”  Davrim asked.
“Gundarson?”  Stevhan replied.  “The one who found the bracelet, right?”
“Looks like someone took the theft personally,” Davrim said.  
“It also looks like the dead around here don’t rest easy!”  Selena cried as she pointed towards the corpse.

A spectral shape rose from the body like a cold mist, an ephemeral incarnation of Willas Gundarson.  Its hollow eyes sought out the living, whose life’s blood it could smell like an intoxicant.  Its mouth gaped open in a mournful wail as it floated towards them, reaching out its gnarled fingers hungrily.  
“Stay back!”  Mox warned, but if the spirit heard, it gave no sign.  The sorceress snapped her fingers and sent mystic bolts swirling towards it.  Though its form was translucent and incorporeal, the missiles struck as if they’d hit a solid body, and Gundarson recoiled in pain.  In rapid succession, Selena sent fire, Velox sent holy light, and Tungdill loosed lightning.  In the violent clash of energies, Willas Gundarson screamed as his soul found eternal peace.
________________________________________________________

Across a hallway from the crypt, a door opened onto a short dais that looked out over a large chamber.  Thick pillars ascended to a high ceiling, while a wide stone staircase climbed to a darkened gallery above.  The true purpose of the chamber was apparent from the great stone table that ran across its center.  Dozens of seats had been set about the massive affair, and propped upon them was a feast of horror.  Each chair held the corpse of a human locked in its death throes, its mouth agape in anguish, the top of its cranium brutally removed, and the brains within excised.  

As the companions stood aghast at the tableau, a quartet of undead cyclopes stepped from the shadows beneath the gallery.  Davrim gave an inarticulate cry of rage, the knowledge of the terror of what the townsfolk had faced overwhelming him.  He charged wildly at the zombies, but before he reached them, one of them stepped forward and smashed him with its blood-stained axe.  The inquisitor went sprawling at the feet of the undead, and they loomed menacingly over him.  Suddenly, a volley of five arrows sprouted from the chest of the nearest giant, and it toppled like a felled tree.
“Get out of there!”  Stevhan cried.
Davrim struggled to his feet and moved back towards his friends, the three remaining cyclopes close behind him.  Velox stepped in front of them to give his friend a chance to get clear, but one of the brutes swatted him easily aside.  As he rolled to his feet, Mox’s mouth yawned wide, and she spewed a gout of acid at the zombies, sending them reeling and roaring in pain.  Davrim turned and rushed back towards the disoriented giants.  As he swung his sword, however, one of the cyclopes grabbed his arm and bit down.  He cried out involuntarily, but quickly switched his sword to his off hand and drove it through the monster’s single eye.  Just as the last two recovered for a second assault, Velox stepped forward, his hands outstretched, and a moment later, a wall of coruscating flame erupted between the cyclopes, immolating them both.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Very nice going so far. Really looking forward to the next session!


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## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:


> Very nice going so far. Really looking forward to the next session!




It will be fairly epic!  It was touch and go for a time.


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## Schmoe

Heya Doc.  I took a hiatus from these boards for a few years, but when I come back lo and behold! it seems you've got another story hour going.  I'm looking forward to digging in to see what I've been missing


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## JollyDoc

Schmoe said:


> Heya Doc.  I took a hiatus from these boards for a few years, but when I come back lo and behold! it seems you've got another story hour going.  I'm looking forward to digging in to see what I've been missing




Welcome back!!  Took a hiatus myself for awhile, but felt the call once more.  Glad your back with us, and hope you enjoy this one!


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## JollyDoc

VORDAKAI 

“Is this all of them?”  Davrim asked.  
The companions gathered around the grisly tableau of the dining table, the ghastly remains of the villagers poised in their death throes.  
“Doubtful,” Mox said.  “Varnhold’s population was much more than this.  Still, I wonder why these were singled out.  Unfortunately, we don’t have a description of Varn himself.”
“We can mourn these souls later,” Velox said impatiently.  “Whomever or whatever is behind these murders, we have to find and stop him before there are no souls left to save.”
_____________________________________________________________

They climbed to the gallery which overlooked the dining hall, then made their way down a wide passage on the far side.  From up ahead, they heard the sound of burbling water.  The passage opened into a wide chamber.  A large fountain and pool that stank of sulfur occupied its center.  A shallow channel cut into the stone floor passed beneath a pair of bronze doors, funneling the foul water out of the pool in that direction.   No sooner had the first of the companions set foot in the room, than the fountain exploded upwards in a great plume, and coalesced into a vaguely humanoid figure…an elemental!  

“Curse these foul guardians!”  Davrim bellowed.  “Where is your master, beast?”
The inquisitor drew his sword and charged, Velox right behind him.  The pair dodged right and left, ducking beneath the flailing arms of the elemental.  As they passed beneath its reach, each struck in turn, their eldritch blades slicing into the outsider as if it were a creature of flesh and blood.
“Foolish mortals,” a sinister voice suddenly sounded from behind the others, from the hallway they had just come from.  “Your challenge has been answered.  Vordakai has awakened from his long slumber, and has found this world infested with those who once served his people as mere kine and chattel.  Yet my rest has left me but a shadow of my former self.  I hunger, and the souls of your kinsmen are not nearly enough to sate me.  I shall devour all of your lands, and my empire shall rise again!!”
Tungdill turned slowly around, and his face drained of all color as his eyes widened in terror.  Behind them stood a towering cyclops, though it was emaciated to the point of gauntness.  Its grey flesh hung loosely upon its bones, and its once rich robes lay in tatters.  From within its single hollow eye socket burned a crimson gem easily the size of a man’s fist.  
“Back devil!” the druid cried, and he loosed serpentine coils of fire from his palms.  The flames coiled around the lich, but its putrid flesh merely darkened instead of burning.  Terrified, the dwarf quickly grabbed the handles of the door and slammed it shut on the nightmarish apparition.
“We got trouble, lads!”

Velox, his eyes glazed over and his tongue babbling as the holy power of Iomedae overwhelmed him, barely heard Tungdill’s words.  The oracle nimbly dodged another hammer blow from the elemental.  This time, the monster’s huge fist pounded into the paving stones, shattering several into fragments and sending a large cloud of dust into its own eyes.  It reared back, flailing about wildly, temporarily blinded.  Velox and Davrim continued their assault, darting in and slashing at the beast, and then dashing away again as it sought to find them.  
“If you boys are finished playing,” Mox shouted, “we’ve got problems of our own back here!”
The sorceress hurled a fireball into the elemental, causing a cloud of steam to fill the area.  Velox turned towards her just as the creature swung again, this time blindly connecting with the oracle and sending him head-over-heels.  Mox loosed her magic again, this time sending acidic missiles into the behemoth.  It roared in pain, and as it was distracted, Velox leaped to his feet.  He and Davrim charged in for one final attack, and as they landed their blows, the elemental collapsed in on itself into the pool once more.

The door to the hallway started to open, and in desperation, Stevhan flung himself at it, seizing the handles and pulling it shut again.
“If you’re going to do something, make it fast!” the ranger cried.  “I can’t hold this for long!”
“I’m on it, boy!”  Tungdill yelled.  “Just hang on fer a second er two!  I got somethin’ fer’im!”
The druid began to chant, and as he did so, a swirling vortex of light began to coalesce before him.  Within a matter of moments, it solidified into the form of a large, two-headed giant.
“Go get’im, boy!” Tungdill commanded.
The ettin reached out and shoved the doors opene, and Stevhan charged forward.  Vordakai was waiting.  As the ranger drew near, the cyclops-lich reached out one clawed hand and grabbed him by the head.  Stevhan went rigid as stone, then collapsed to the floor, unmoving.  
“No!” Mox shouted as she loosed another acid missile at the necromancer.  Vordakai didn’t seem to notice, even as the caustic fluid ate through his decrepit flesh.  Instead, he gathered dark energy about him, then flung it out from himself.  When it passed through the companions, they felt the chill of the grave wash over them, leaving behind a bone-numbing cold in its wake.

Davrim recovered first from the assault, and he was on his feet and running before he’d even given thought to what he planned to do when he reached the lich.  Raising his sword above his head with both hands, he brought it down with all his strength upon Vordakai’s shoulder, hoping to sever the fiend’s arm in the process.  The blade rebounded as if he’d struck a stone wall, leaving only a minor laceration in the cyclop’s flesh, which quickly began to reknit itself.  Vordakai struck the inquisitor with a back-handed blow, and as he did so, a flash of arcane energy detonated, knocking Davrim back several feet.  The lich began striding purposefully towards Mox, Tungdill and Selena.  As he passed the ettin, the giant swung both of its clubs, which shattered upon the lich’s flesh like glass.  Vordakai never spared the giant a second glance.  Desperately, Mox flung a fistful of arcane bolts towards the advancing horror, but they seemed to strike some unseen barrier before they reached the lich, and he chuckled evilly as he began his own incantation.  Davrim leaped to his feet again, and charged in a second time.  Once more, Vordakai stopped him with an almost casual slap, sending the half-orc sprawling across the floor.  Suddenly, a wall of flames sprang up from the floor, enveloping the lich as it did so.  He roared in pain and frustration, ripping himself free of the conflagration, his robes still smoldering.  His crimson eye fixed on Velox as the oracle’s own opaque gaze met his in return.  With a snarl, the lich seized Tungdill, preparing to hurl the dwarf at his companion.
“Hands off, ye filthy cur!” the dwarf growled.
The feisty druid quickly began another chant, calling a column of white fire down from the ceiling.  Vordakai was caught in the center of the blast, and he dropped Tungdill to the floor as he reeled away.  
“Now!” Mox cried.  “Strike together!”
She opened her mouth and spewed a stream of acid at the lich.  Simultaneously, Velox hurled searing light.  The twin energies engulfed the cyclops, searing great chunks of flesh from his bones.  Screaming in agony, Vordakai swirled his robes around him and vanished in a flash of blinding light.

“Where is he?”  Davrim shouted, twisting this way and that.
“He dimension stepped!”  Mox cursed.  “Doubtless he’s gone to lick his wounds.  He could return any time!”
“Then we must move quickly,” Velox said, once more himself.
He moved to the stricken form of Stevhan and drew a roll of parchment from his belt.  As he unfurled it, he began to read the arcane inscription printed upon it.  When he spoke the final word, the scroll disintegrated in his hands, but a moment later, Stevhan blinked his eyes and drew in a great breath.
“Easy, my friend,” Velox said.  “A lich’s touch can last a lifetime.  You are bound to be somewhat stiff for a time.”
“I’ll move easy enough when that one-eyed devil shows his face again!” the ranger snapped.
“What do we do now?” Davrim asked.  “Just wait for him to come back?”
“No,” Mox replied.  “We keep moving.  Maybe we can find the survivors of Varnhold before he regains his strength.”

The companions quickly crossed the chamber to the double doors on the far side.  They opened easily enough, but immediately the heroes wished they hadn’t.  The chamber beyond stretched into darkness.  The channel of sulfurous water ran down its center into a placid pool tinged in red and surrounded by kneeling forms.  Nearby sat a small stone shrine decorated with several freshly severed human heads.  Just beyond the grisly altar, a hideous throne made of bones loomed above the pool.  As the group slowly approached the pool, they saw that the kneeling figures had all been eviscerated as well as beheaded, and their entrails had been laid out in intricate patterns.  A slanting hallway exited the chamber on the far side, and a soft glow emanated from it.  The companions made their way slowly past the horrible tableau, trying to avert their eyes, but morbidly compelled to gaze upon it.  

The short hall opened into a circular, dome-ceilinged room.  The walls were filled with stone niches, each of which bore a number of strangely shaped glass jars.  Each jar was about a foot tall, stoppered with a clot of black wax, and contained a swirling plume of glowing white smoke.  There were dozens of them on display, and the swirling light each emitted gave the room an otherworldly feel.  Gingerly, Mox reached towards one of the jars, feeling drawn to it.  As she laid her hand upon it, her eyes flew open wide.
“Who…who are you?” she asked of no one.
“Mox, what is it?” Velox asked.
“There…there’s someone inside,” the sorceress said in wonder.  “She says her name is Lana, and that she is from Varnhold.  She says she wants to go home.”

Suddenly, a flash of light erupted in the center of the room, and Vordakai stood before them once more.  Before they could react, the lich hurled a ray of sickly green light at Davrim, and the inquisitor instantly felt his strength being drained from him.  He sank to one knee, the weight of his own armor suddenly pulling him down.  Stevhan cried out in fury, and ran forward, but the cyclops was too fast.  He whipped about like a snake, catching the ranger with a heavy blow just as his sword descended.  Stevhan tumbled away, bruised, but at least still mobile.  A second flash of light appeared in front of Tungdill as the druid summoned more of his extraplanar allies.  A huge tiger, followed by a dog-sized ant materialized out of thin air.  The creatures leaped at the lich, clawing, snapping and biting.  They did very little actual harm to the necromancer, but they provided a critical distraction.  As Vordakai batted the nuisances aside, he failed to see Velox closing in on him.  By the time he noticed the oracle, it was too late.  Velox swung with all his might, and his blow connected solidly with the lich’s jaw, dislocating it with a sickening crack.  Vordakai couldn’t speak.  He couldn’t voice the words to his spells.  For the first time in centuries, the necromancer knew something akin to fear.  Desperately, he struggled to put distance between himself and the battle-mad oracle, but Davrim and Stevhan had managed to flank him in the melee.  Though his undead flesh was as strong as steel, the sheer number and ferocity of the blows rained down upon him by the three warriors began to weaken him, overwhelming his unholy regeneration.  Frantic, he seized his broken mandible with both hands and wrenched it back into place.  Triumph gleamed in his crimson eye, but even as the words to a spell came to his cracked lips, Mox sent an acidic missile straight into his throat.  He gagged and wretched violently, and as he doubled over in pain, Davrim brought the keen edge of his blade down upon the lich’s neck, severing his head from his shoulders.

As the others drew a collective sigh of relief and began tending to their many wounds, Selena walked unobtrusively over to Vordakai’s head.  The fist-sized ruby had dislodged from his eye socket and lay glowing upon the floor.  
“What have we here?” the witch whispered as she quickly wrapped the gemstone into the folds of her robe.
__________________________________________________________

Carefully, one-by-one, the companions took each of the soul jars off of the shelves.  As they touched each one, they made brief contact with the essence of the spirit trapped within.  Each of them named themselves a citizen of Varnhold, though none among them was Maegar Varn.  Also not among their number was the spirit of Aecora Silverfire’s daughter, Xamanthe.  Mox reassured each of the souls that they were now safe, and would soon be returned to their homes, but not until they were free of the lich’s stronghold.  For safekeeping, the jars were placed gently into a pair of sacks, enchanted to contain large extradimensional spaces within.  
“There is still one place we haven’t looked yet for the others,” Velox observed.
“How did I know you were going to suggest that?”  Mox asked bitterly.
___________________________________________________________

The black doors depicting the river Styx stood just as they’d left them when the companions had decided to avoid the sinister portals.  The blood-stained altars still stood silent vigil on either side.  
“Ya know this here’s a trap jes waitin’ t’be sprung, don’tcha?”  Tungdill asked the others.
“And yet we have no choice,” Velox said.  “We cannot leave this place until we’ve insured the safety of every salvageable soul.”
“Figured you’d say that,” the druid grumped.  “Jes thought I’d warn ya.”
“Duly noted,” the oracle smiled.  “Now, I suggest you all stand back…,”

Bracing himself, Velox stepped to the twin doors and grasped each handle, then firmly pulled them open.  Instantly, the two altars burst into black fire, which swirled in a vortex that quickly filled the entire room.  Unlike true flames, however, its touch did not burn…it froze to the marrow, for it carried with it the taint of the unholy river of the underworld.  Each of the companions felt their breath momentarily stop in their throats as the taint of Death itself flowed through them.  Just as quickly, it passed, but upon each of them, sickly gray patches appeared on any areas of exposed flesh.  The construction of the chamber beyond the doors differed from the rest of the stronghold.  The ceiling arched to double the height of most of the other rooms, and appeared to bear many fractures in the rock.  In the center of the area, two columns of mortared stone supported the overhead arches.  Before the group had a chance to recover from the mystical fire, a mist began to gather in the center of the room.  Before their eyes, a creature from nightmares stepped out of the fog.  It walked on two legs, but it resembled some sort of demonic crustacean, with large pincers instead of hands, and a quartet of ropy tentacles surrounding an area where its mouth should have been.

The pieces suddenly fell into place for Davrim.  The river Styx, the Four Horsemen, and now this, a piscodaemon.  All things connected to the plane of Abaddon.  Could the cyclops lich truly have been involved with such evil?  The inquisitor didn’t have time to ponder the matter further.  The noxious green fog behind the fiend began to move purposefully.  Casting its claws forward, the creature directed the mist towards the companions, and as it enveloped them, they began gagging and retching as its foul vapors drifted into their lungs.  Stevhan collapsed to his hands and knees, his sword falling uselessly to the floor beside him, vomiting repeatedly as he tried to draw in great, whooping gasps of air, only succeeding in inhaling more of the fumes.  Davrim’s eyes watered and ran, but he could still make out the shape of the daemon standing within the fog.  He moved towards it, but as he swung his sword, the fiend batted his blade aside and clamped one of its claws down upon his wrist, while at the same time lashing at his exposed face with its tentacles.  The half-orc wrenched his arm free, and swung furiously, imbuing his blade with the holy power of Iomedae as he did so.  The steel sliced into the daemon’s carapace like a hot knife through butter, and the creature screamed an otherworldly wail.  It vanished into thin air, and too late, Davrim remembered that the creatures could teleport.

Mox discovered this fact as well when the daemon reappeared right beside her, looming out of the fog like an apparition.  She tried to scream, but her voice choked off as she inhaled the stinking gas.  Her voice merely a whisper, she managed to choke out the words to a spell, and exhaled a cone of freezing ice into the daemon’s face.  It recoiled, covering its head with its claws, thus failing to see Velox as he emerged from the mist.  The oracle’s blade glowed like white fire as the power of his goddess flowed through him.  Too late the daemon saw the coming blow, and when it threw up one claw to protect itself, the sword cleaved straight through it.  Mox struck again, spewing liquid ice upon the fiend a second time, freezing its joints in place.  Velox rushed in, his sword a blur of motion.  Pieces of the daemon flew in all directions, until finally, it simply exploded into a cloud of sulfurous smoke.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Fairly epic my a$$, this was truely epic! I guess no one expects a lich at that level.  Now to me this reads as a 100% completion of the quest. Shame though, Vordokai having been one of the world's most ancient residents... All the evil, undeath and madness aside, he could have made great dinner conversation!

Was the jaw-shattering an actual critical hit or more in the line of story telling goodness?


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## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:


> Fairly epic my a$$, this was truely epic! I guess no one expects a lich at that level.  Now to me this reads as a 100% completion of the quest. Shame though, Vordokai having been one of the world's most ancient residents... All the evil, undeath and madness aside, he could have made great dinner conversation!
> 
> Was the jaw-shattering an actual critical hit or more in the line of story telling goodness?




We use the Critical Hit and Fumble decks, and Velox actually did crit Vordakai, and shattered jaw was the card he drew.  Vordakai used his channel neg energy ability to "fix" it/relocate it, but by that time, it was too late.


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## JollyDoc

BLOOD FOR BLOOD

The piscodaemon, as it turned out, was little more than a glorified jailor.  Beyond the chamber in which it stood guard, the companions found an unconscious, badly beaten female centaur shackled to the wall of a dark cell…Xamanthe Silverfire.  To make matters worse, she was also rigid as a board…another victim of Vordakai’s touch.

The nobles of Kardashia carefully and gingerly removed Xamanthe from the lich’s tomb, then, after making camp for the coming night, made their way back to Varnhold over the course of the next day.  Once there, Tungdill and Velox set to work nursing the young centaur back to health, while Mox and the others went about the tenuous task of restoring the trapped souls of Varnhold’s citizens back to reality.  The folk were grateful, though in a state of disorientation and shock.  None remembered the circumstances of their capture, nor had any concept of how long they’d been trapped.  When they learned of the deaths of so many of their friends, and family, as well as all of their leaders, including Maegar Varn himself, they were overwhelmed with grief and heartbreak.  They were adrift, rudderless. Their gratitude for their restored lives was effusive, but they were lost.  They had no idea what was going to become of them.  In the end, the answer was right in front of them.  Unanimously, they came to Mox and her companions as a community, and petitioned the nobles to bring their township into Kardashia.  

When Xamanthe was fit enough to travel, the group took their leave from Varnhold, promising to return soon to begin the process of annexation, and made their way back to the centaur encampment in the Dunsward.  Aecora was overjoyed at her daughter’s return, and immediately vowed to make a lasting truce and peace with the Kardashians.  All she asked in return was the Dunsward be left to her people as their sovereign home.  Mox agreed without hesitation.

The companions began their long journey home.  They were welcomed back to Veritas with great fanfare, and when news of their success in solving the mystery of the Varnhold vanishing became widely known, their legend grew to epic proportions.  The people of Kardashia were overwhelmingly enthusiastic over the idea of Varnhold joining their country.  The opportunity for new trade and commerce was a welcome endeavor.  Within months, a road was built between Veritas and Varnhold, and the town was officially renamed Cougartown, ostensibly because of the large number of firepelt cougars in the surrounding mountains, (though some wisecrackers opined that it was due  to the large number of recently widowed and newly single women in the township).  With the annexation of hundreds of square miles, Kardashia achieved official recognition from Brevoy as a formal kingdom.  Queen Mox I was crowned in amidst a celebration that lasted an entire week!
_____________________________________________________________

Selena turned the crimson gem over and over in her hands, marveling at its beauty…and its power.  Weeks of research had finally revealed to her the exact extent of its abilities.  It was known as the Oculus of Abaddon, a potent artifact rumored to have been created by one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse as a way to reward those who worked as their agents on the Material Plane.  It gave its bearer many unique abilities, such as the power to see the unseen, scry upon others at great distance, and even to summon natives of Abaddon, such as the piscodaemon, to do their bidding.  Yet by far its most powerful, and sinister ability, undoubtedly that which allowed Vordakai to ensnare the people of Varnhold, was the haunting beckon.  Once per year, the bearer could manipulate the minds of a huge number of people, provided the end goal of that manipulation was a tragic or otherwise horrific fate for those being manipulated.  

Selena pondered the Oculus at length.  That the item was evil was beyond question.  Also, the means by which its powers were granted, namely, prying one’s own eye out and replacing it with the gem, was truly repulsive.  Still…in the hands of the right user, with the goal of the greater good in mind, it might just prove useful…very useful indeed.
____________________________________________________________

_“Greetings, my liege lords!  Would that I had the opportunity to contact you via missive in gentler times.  Since its founding, Fort Spears has faced many challenges, but recent rumors of a much more disturbing sort abound.  A woman has come to Fort Spears bearing warnings that, if they are to be believed, indicate we may face a terrible threat.  She speaks of armies of bandits, hordes of barbarians, and worse organizing to the west beyond Hooktongue Slough.  To date we have had no trouble with these elements, but this woman is quite convincing.  She tells us an army is marching on Fort Spears.  If this is true, we will need your aid in defending our homes.  Please come as soon as you can.
In good faith, your obedient servant, Mayor Loy Rezbin”_

Such was the message Mox received one spring afternoon while tending to matters of Court.  Fort Spears had done quite well for itself since its founding, having established a healthy trade route along the Skunk River.  Still, the likelihood of an “army” advancing on the small, frontier town was remote in Mox’s mind.  It was probably nothing more than a bandit tribe stirring up trouble, but even so, it was still worth investigating.  Though the duties of herself and her companions kept them close to home most of the time, she informed the others that she thought it was worth putting in a personal appearance at Fort Spears, if for nothing else than to show that the nobility was “taking an interest.”
_________________________________________________________

When the royal entourage reached Fort Spears, they were met by the commander of the town guard, Captain Coren Lawry.  He escorted them through the center of the village, where they drew the attention of every soul present, to the Fort Spears Lodge, which functioned as the town hall.  There they were greeted by Mayor Rezbin himself, as well as his wife Latricia and another, younger woman.

“My Lady!  My Lords!”  Rezbin said as he bowed deeply.  The ladies beside him offered respectful curtsies.  “I can’t thank you enough for responding so swiftly to my plea, and in person no less!  Allow me to introduce Kisandra Numesti.”
He gestured to the young woman, who inclined her head politely.
“Your Highness,” she said to Mox.
“Who are you, girl?”  Mox asked, sternly but not unkindly.
“I come from the Drelev Demesne,” Kisandra replied, “west of here on the far side of Hooktongue Slough.  It was established by Baron Hannis Drelev of Brevoy.  My father is Lord Terrion Numesti, a knight who once served the baron, but recently went against him and was thrown into the dungeon as punishment.”
“Drelev?”  Mox quirked an eyebrow.
“The third charter dispensed by Restov,” Davrim said, clearing his throat.  “They sent a group of soldiers and nobleman west, led by a Baron Hannis Drelev, about the same time we came into the Stolen Lands.”
“I see,” Mox nodded.  “Continue,” she motioned to Kisandra.
“Well,” Kisandra said, “Baron Drelev earned the ire of a local barbarian tribe known as the Tiger Lords by looting several of the tombs of their ancestors.  They refused an offer of peace from our town, but when they attacked, they were easily defeated by our knights and soldiers.  The Tiger Lords did not accept defeat so easily, however.  Apparently, they sought out and formed an alliance with Lord Irovetti, the bandit king of Pitax.”
“The river kingdom?”  Davrim asked.
“The same,” Kisandra nodded.  “When the Tiger Lords returned, they were accompanied by mercenaries from Pitax.  When Baron Drelev saw the host arrayed against our town, the coward sent riders out under a flag of truce to plead with them to spare his holdings, surrendering unconditionally.  Lord Irovetti and the Tiger Lord chieftain, a brute named Armag, accepted, but they wanted even more.  They demanded that the townsfolk hand over five of their daughters as hostages until Drelev proved his loyalty.  Baron Drelev commanded his senior officers to hand over their eldest daughters.  My father refused.  The baron made an example of him by throwing him in jail and giving my sister to the barbarians anyway.  It was shortly after that when I fled Fort Drelev.”
“I see,” Mox said, “but that still doesn’t explain why there is now an army marching on our lands.  What have we to do with Fort Drelev’s woes?”
“Baron Drelev has made no secret that he covets your accomplishments here,” Kisandra replied.  “I imagine he hopes to prove himself to Irovetti by attacking you, and also hopes to add your lands to his own in the process.”
“What sort of army are we talking about here?”  Velox asked.  “How many are they, and what sort of troops are there?”
“Perhaps two dozen of Pitax’s mercenaries,” Kisandra said, “and half as many Tiger Lord barbarians, not to mention a half-dozen enormous trolls!”
“Ain’t exactly an army, now is it?”  Tungdill grumped.
“It’s more than enough for our defenses,” Mayor Rezbin snapped.  “We have no more than a dozen guards, and maybe an equal number of villagers who are battle ready, though none of them have ever truly been tested.”
“Do we know how far away this force is?”  Mox asked.
“Well…,” Rezbin hesitated, “that’s the problem.  Our scouts tell us they’re no more than two hours march north along the Skunk River.”
“Nothing like advance warning!”  Stevhan exclaimed.  
“Then I suppose there’s no time to waste,” Velox said.
__________________________________________________________

Preparations, such as they were, were hastily put into place, and just in the nick of time as it turned out.  The mercenary and barbarian troops appeared along the banks of the Skunk River, and when they sighted the town’s walls with its meager supporters, they roared their challenge and charged.  

“Stand your ground, men!”  Velox commanded from where he paced along the catwalk behind the wooden palisade.  “Stevhan!” he called.
“Ready!”  the ranger hailed back.  
He’d taken up position on the Fort Spears Bridge, along with a small group of archers behind the high rails there that provided cover.
“Fire at will!”  Velox signaled.
The archers rose as one and loosed a withering volley of arrows at the oncoming horde.  Simultaneously, Tungdill, Mox and Selena stood up from behind the palisade and unleashed a deadly barrage of magic.  A sudden storm of sleet and ice erupted over the attackers, causing ice to form at their feet, and sending them slipping and sliding along the sloped river bank.  Simultaneously a ball of acid, and a second one of fire exploded among them.

The assault was ferocious, but it only temporarily halted the advancing raiders.  Enraged by the temerity of their prey to actually mount a defense, they reached the outskirts of the village and began their attack in earnest.  The militia had managed to erect hastily built barricades, and these slowed the enemy, but only just barely.  Velox took advantage of the break in the charge to weave his own magic, conjuring a cloud of billowing fog around the horde, and then Mox loosed another fireball, while Selena summoned a column of white flame down among them.

The remaining Drelev forces finally broke through the out defenses and carried the fight into the streets of Fort Spears.  The villagers, both guardsmen and common folk alike, rallied to defend their homes.  The spell casters could no longer bring their most destructive magic to bear, but Tungdill still managed to send discrete bolts of lightning sizzling among the raiders.  The fighting was brief but fierce, until finally, the defenders began to push back in the invaders.  A cry of victory went up from the townsfolk, but it was echoed a moment later by a cry of despair.  Both sides drew back and parted as six monstrous figures appeared at the edge of the barricades.  The trolls had arrived.

It was time for Mox and her companions to take a more personal hand in the battle.  The militia would be quickly overwhelmed by the vicious giants within a matter of moments.  Quickly they moved into the center of town, just as the trolls came rampaging into the street.  With a raucous cry of bloodlust, the brutes charged…directly into a wall of flames that Velox conjured in their path.  Four of the giants stopped short of the wall, trapped on the far side.  One made it past, but the last was engulfed completely in the flames.  Immediately, Selena took to the sky, soaring high so she could see the trolls beyond the flame wall.  Chanting, she called a hex to her, causing the ground around the brutes to erupt in a forest of rubbery, black tentacles.  The appendages reached out and wrapped around the arms and legs of the trolls, holding them in place while they began squeezing like the coils of large serpents.  The single troll who’d made it past the flames paid no heed to the plight of its brothers.  It continued its headlong charge, barreling into Velox and Davrim, swatting them both aside with its massive club.  

Velox rolled to a halt within feet of the wall of fire, just as the troll trapped within it charged through.  The oracle leaped to his feet and charged at the pain-maddened creature, hammering at its raw, seared flesh again and again.  Within a matter of moments, he’d beaten it into unconscious, but he could see that the deep gashes his blade had inflicted were already starting to heal.  Davrim, meanwhile, found himself on the far side of the flames.  As he regained his feet, a nearby troll wrenched itself free of the black tentacles, and came roaring at him.  The inquisitor met it head-on, and drove his blade deep into its gut.  The giant recoiled with a grunt, and gazed down at the rapidly closing wound.  It leered at the half-orc, as behind it, its three brethren also broke free.

Mox backed quickly away from the oncoming troll as she opened her mouth her mouth and breathed a cloud of acid on the monster.  At the same moment, Tungdill called down a column of flame on the brute’s head.  It collapsed under the onslaught.  Meanwhile, as Davrim continued to battle his foe, the other three trolls barreled through the wall of fire.  As they did, Velox ambushed one of them, dropping it in its tracks.  Now three of the giants lay unconscious in the street.  Quickly, Velox conjured a second fire wall, engulfing those three, insuring they would not rise again.  Davrim and his enemy fought tooth and claw, but ultimately the inquisitor won out, knocking the giant backwards into one of the flame walls.  Selena, still flying above the melee, pulled a lump of wax from her belt and quickly began kneading it into a vaguely humanoid shape.  She spoke a few words over it, and then puffed her breath upon it.  Taking it in her hands, she began moving it as if it were walking.  Below her, one of the trolls suddenly went rigid.  It then turned slowly around and marched itself deliberately into the fire.  The last of the brutes collapsed under a second plume of Mox’s acidic breath.  Just like that, the battle of Fort Spears was over.
_____________________________________________________________

“You are truly the heroes I heard you to be!”  Kisandra exclaimed in the aftermath of the battle.  “Surely you must know, however, that Baron Drelev will not give up so easily.  He will send more troops next time.  You must stop him!  Please tell me that you will!  Go to Fort Drelev and repay the baron for his treachery!  Please!  You must free my father…free the people of Fort Drelev, and save my sister!”
“You needn’t beg, dear girl,” Mox smiled thinly.  “We most assuredly will be visiting Baron Drelev, and let him know in person how we feel about trespassing in Kardashia.”


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

JollyDoc, when I looked at the EN boards today and found the update it felt like Christmas. Thanks for such a nice present under the virtual EN-tree.  

Nice ending to the Varhold module. Did they even miss a single side quest? Cougartown? Nice...

Also, I have to read up on this first Blood for Blood attack group because from the SH, they were able to take quite a beating.


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## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:


> JollyDoc, when I looked at the EN boards today and found the update it felt like Christmas. Thanks for such a nice present under the virtual EN-tree.
> 
> Nice ending to the Varhold module. Did they even miss a single side quest? Cougartown? Nice...
> 
> Also, I have to read up on this first Blood for Blood attack group because from the SH, they were able to take quite a beating.




Merry Christmas!

I don't believe they missed any of the side quests in Varnhold.  With this AP, they pretty much need to hit them all to keep up with the xp requirement.

Remember that in Blood for Blood teh first battle uses the new mass combat rules, except for the fight with the trolls.  I think if I'd actually put the battle group against the PC's in a straight up fight, the group would have made quick work of them.


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## Neverwinter Knight

Hope you also had happy holidays so far & to all a good gaming start into the new year!


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## carborundum

Another exciting update - thanks JollyDoc!
Happy belated Christmas folks, and a fun New Year too!


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## JollyDoc

This picture represents only about 1/3 of the forces arrayed against our heroes in the battle of Fort Drelev!  Subtlety is NOT their forte!!


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## Supar

JollyDoc said:


> This picture represents only about 1/3 of the forces arrayed against our heroes in the battle of Fort Drelev! Subtlety is NOT their forte!!




But domination is


----------



## JollyDoc

BATTLE OF THE BOG

Hooktongue Slough was a vast, trackless swamp, teeming with life, but equally inhospitable to life not familiar with its dangers.  The six companions knew the way to Fort Drelev…at least on paper…but the reality was much more…meandering.  They’d been in the bog for two days, with very little to show except for multiple insect bites, rashes in sensitive areas, and water-logged gear.  The clearing they’d most recently wandered into differed from the myriad others only by the preponderance of dragonflies over other types of bugs.  Had there not been so many of them, with their incessant droning, the sight might actually have been beautiful.  

Suddenly, the droning intensified, and when the group turned to look around them, what they saw momentarily took their breath away.  Eight dragonflies, easily the size of flying ponies, swarmed upon them from above.  They darted and flitted about like their smaller cousins, but when they bit, their mandibles tore into the flesh of the companions like reaping scythes.  Davrim, Velox and Stevhan formed a perimeter around Selena, Mox and Tungdill, trying to defend the magi, but attempting to mount a defense in three dimensions proved nigh impossible.  Their blades and arrows struck precisely, but the chitinous exoskeletons of the insects deflected many of their blows.  Then the magic began to flow.  Acid, electricity and fire filled the air, and the bugs began to drop like…well, like flies.  Several tense minutes later, the monstrosities all lay dead on the ground, and their smaller brethren began to gather for the feast.
“Ah…nuttin’ like getting’ back t’nature!”  Tungdill laughed.
________________________________________________________

Two days later, the companions reached the shore of Lake Hooktongue itself.  The massive, shallow lake stretched to the horizon, mist-wrapped and sinister.  They set out to the south, skirting the dark water through the marshland along its banks.  Fort Drelev lay somewhere on the opposite side, but it would be days before they reached it.

Late on the third day, as Stevhan and Davrim scouted ahead through a cypress grove, the ranger caught a quick flicker of movement from the trees ahead.  Two man-sized, frog-like creatures detached themselves from the tree’s branches and darted off into the marsh, hooting and croaking as they ran. 
“Boggards,” Stevhan said.  “We’d better warn the others.  Those two were scouts.  There’re likely to be a lot more up ahead.”

Cautiously, the group crept forward through the dense underbrush until they emerged into a large clearing.  In the center of it, surrounded by a dozen or more mud huts, was a large fire pit, a wisp of smoke rising from it to a massive stone statue chiseled to resemble an immense, menacing toad.  No less than fifty boggards stood around the perimeter of the clearing, croaking and grunting, spears gripped in their hands.  Near the middle of the village, eight boggards stood apart.  They were taller, and more massive than the others, and they held barbed tridents.  At their sides crouched large frogs the size of wolves.  Beyond them stood another boggard, even larger still.  This one wore an elaborate headdress and was bedecked in an assortment of totems and bone jewelry.  
Mox stepped forward, her hands empty and upraised.
“We aren’t looking for trouble…,” she  began, but before she could speak another word, the chieftain made a curt motion with his hand, and the eight soldiers rushed forward.

As the large boggards surged forward, the chieftain waved his hand again, and from out of nowhere, several buzzing swarms of red wasps appeared.  At that moment, Velox’s eyes glazed over, and he raised his hands above his head.  As he did so, flames erupted from the ground in the center of the village, stretching across the entire clearing.  The boggards along the edge drew back, shrieking, their eyes like wide saucers.  The fire engulfed the wasps, burning them all to ash in an instant.  The wall also scorched two of the oncoming soldiers, and at the same time, Davrim and Stevhan opened up with their bows, peppering the warriors with a barrage of arrows.  
“You had your chance, animals!”  Mox growled as she rose into the air.
The queen flew above the top of the fire wall so that she could see the boggard chieftain.  Then, calling upon her most powerful magic, she wove a spell designed to suck the air completely out of the lungs of its victim.  She meant to drop the sorcerer in one fell swoop.  To her surprise, the chieftain showed no reaction at all.  The spell failed.  A moment later, the big boggard cast his own spell, and a column of emerald fire roared down from the sky, completely engulfing Mox.

Two of the boggard warriors were on the near-side of Velox’s wall, and the pair that was trapped within it leaped free as well, their hides dry, cracked and smoldering.  The quartet moved in, their tridents set, and their monstrous frogs at their sides.  Velox and Davrim met them half way, and in a brief but violent exchange, three of the boggards and their amphibious companions were laid low.   A flurry of arrows from Stevhan dropped the last one in its tracks as well.

Selena rose into the air on an updraft, rushing to reach the still-smoking form of Mox.  The queen was conscious, though badly injured.  
“Get back!”  Selena cried.
To cover their retreat, she lobbed a fireball into the midst of the boggards on the far side of the wall, then grabbed Mox’s wrist and pulled her back to safety.  
“Not…so…fast!”  Mox grimaced through clenched teeth.  “I’m…not done…yet!”
She turned at the last moment and hurled a second fireball into the mix.  The boggards scattered, but the chieftain held his ground.  As Mox let Selena push her before her, the shaman pointed one finger at them.  In an instant, Selena ceased flying and fell heavily to the ground below.  Unfortunately, she’d fallen on the far side of the wall, and was now alone against the chieftain and his four remaining bodyguards.  As the witch climbed slowly to her feet, two of the boggard warriors pounced on her.  As the first one struck, however, the curse that Selena kept constantly woven about her person was triggered in an explosion of electric fire.  

“She won’t last long over there!”  Davrim cried as he watched Selena fall.
The inquisitor braced himself, and then charged, roaring through the wall of fire.  As he emerged on the far side, smoke and flames trailing from his clothing, he lowered his shoulder and slammed into one of the boggards menacing the witch.  In that vital moment of distraction, Selena spoke a word and vanished in flash of brilliant light.  Just then, Davrim heard something that sounded like rushing wind from behind and above him.  When he turned to look, he saw a whirling vortex hovering over the fire wall, lightning crackling through it.
“You never cease to impress me, druid!” the half-orc shouted up at the elemental.
“You ain’t hard t’impress, boy!” came Tungdill’s thunderous voice in return.
Then bolts of electricity began arcing out from the funnel cloud, striking all around the boggard chieftain.

Selena reappeared some two-hundred feet above the battlefield, then quickly engulfed herself in a cocoon of magic that made her light as a feather before she could start to plummet.  From her high vantage point she could pick and choose her targets at will.  She hurled another fireball into the melee, engulfing the boggard leader and one of his bodyguards.  The creature looked to the sky, then waved his hand around his head in a circle.  A cloud of mist rose from the ground at his feet and quickly obscured him from view, as well as his wardens and Davrim.  Within the fog, Davrim looked this way and that, jumping at the various shadows that moved around him.  Suddenly, a boggard warrior loomed up in front of him, thrusting its trident at his gut.  The inquisitor pivoted with the blow, grabbing the shaft of the weapon and swinging the boggard around in a wide arc that ended with the frog-man inside the wall of flames.  It screamed its last as the fire took it.  Davrim darted further into the mist until he came up against an even larger shadow…the boggard chieftain.  He raised his sword to strike, just as the boggard began chanting a spell.  Suddenly, the entire fog bank lit up with a burst of explosive fire.  The shaman collapsed into a pile of ash, and Davrim felt the heat blistering his own skin as well.  It passed a moment later, and all was silent around him.  Was the battle over?  Then, inexplicably, the temperature around him began to drop drastically, followed by a downpour of ice and fist-sized hail.  Davrim folded himself into a fetal position, trying to protect himself from the barrage.  An instant later, the temperature soared again as yet another fireball exploded.  The half-orc tried to open his mouth to scream, but then the darkness overcame him.

Velox’s fire wall burned itself out at the same time that Mox dispelled the mist cloud.  She fervently hoped that the combined efforts of her fireballs and Selena’s, coupled with Tungdill’s ice storm had done the job.  She smiled when she saw the bodies of the boggards laid out like cordwood, but her face sank a moment later when she saw the other body laying among them…Davrim.  
_________________________________________________________

The rest of the boggard villagers, who all during the battle had hooted and croaked each time their chieftain had struck a blow against the outsiders, stared goggle-eyed at the spectacle of their leader and their champions dead forms.  Slowly, in groups of two and three to begin with, but then in greater numbers, they began to drift silently into the swamp.  Soon, the village stood empty.  
“I…I thought he’d gotten out again when I escaped,” Selena stammered as she looked down at Davrim’s burnt and broken form.  
“It was the confusion of the battle,” Mox said solemnly.  “No one’s to blame.”
“Ah, thank the Lady!”  Velox said as he knelt down beside his fallen comrade.  “He lives still, though just barely!”

The oracle, with Tungdill’s help, set about tending the worst of Davrim’s injuries while the others searched the village for survivors, or evidence of Drelev’s men having passed through.  Their search proved futile, but Davrim recovered quickly under the ministrations of his friends.
“What…what happened?” he asked when he was finally strong enough to speak.  “Did the chieftain have some sort of death curse upon him?”
“As a matter of fact, I think that is exactly what occurred,” Mox said tightly.  
Velox looked sharply at her.
“It was a chaotic battle,” the queen continued, “but there is no doubt that it was you, mighty oracle, who dealt the killing blow to the brute.  We are all indebted to your heroism.”
Davrim dropped his eyes, but couldn’t hide a faint smile of pride as his face flushed with embarrassment.


----------



## carborundum

Wow - nice one! Well played guys!

My players are mad for minis, measuring squares and thinking of flimsy excuses for metagaming, it must be nice to just go for it


----------



## WarEagleMage

Oh, don't feel too sorry for the good doctor. Metagaming cuts both ways. We have faced off against some incredibly sqaure-savvy and tactically-minded animals, blobs, mindless undead, constructs and other assorted critters over the years.

All kidding aside, IMO the group polices itself fairly well regarding the maps, etc.  If you decide to go the minis and maps route: you don't need _all _the fancy toys JollyDoc likes to use, but I would recommend Paizo's Gamemastery spell templates as an invaluable tool for tracking AOE spells and effects.


----------



## Schmoe

... and now I'm all caught up.  Good story so far.  It sounds like fun being able to play the role of leaders and still smack down bad guys   Although I have to say, it seems like this AP is somewhat less lethal than previous APs.  

I'm not at all familiar with the Kingmaker AP, so I have to ask, how far into the AP is the group?  What level is everyone right now?


----------



## JollyDoc

Schmoe said:


> ... and now I'm all caught up.  Good story so far.  It sounds like fun being able to play the role of leaders and still smack down bad guys   Although I have to say, it seems like this AP is somewhat less lethal than previous APs.
> 
> I'm not at all familiar with the Kingmaker AP, so I have to ask, how far into the AP is the group?  What level is everyone right now?




The guys are about 3/4 of the way through the 4th of 6 modules in this AP.  They just reached 11th level.  Bear in mind, however, that I'm about 2 posts behind the actual action in the game, so in the SH, they're about 1/4 of the way through Blood for Blood, and are 10th level.  

I think the lack of lethality has a lot to do with the nature of the adventures.  Most of the time, encounters take place when the party is fully rested, and at full capability.  When they go on an actual dungeon crawl, they are usually forewarned, and have time to buff and prepare.  That being said, Stevhan was taken down in 2 rounds in yesterday's game by a surprise attack from a particularly nasty saber-toothed tiger.

For the record, oozes have feelings too!!


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

The Blob was cool, as were the rest. 

What, the Tiger did him in? Not the obvious source of Death in that Area of the dungeon. 

I had feelings for an ooze once, but it dissolved my heart...


----------



## JollyDoc

FORT DRELEV

“How do you recommend we handle this?”  Davrim asked.
The companions stood on the main road leading to Fort Drelev, several hundred yards from the gate.  They had encountered little to no traffic coming into or out of the town during the last several miles of their journey.  
“Leave that to me,” Mox smiled.

They continued walking towards the gate, and the guards posted there quickly became alert when they saw the travelers approaching.  The soldiers wore no livery, but they didn’t look like standard mercenaries either.  Their arms and armor were well-made, and they appeared as if they knew how to use them.  
“We don’t get many visitors through here these days,” one of them said as Mox and the others came close.  “What’s your business?”
“We’re just travelling through,” Mox said, flashing her most winning smile.  “We’re tired from the road, and we’re seeking a place to rest our bones and spend some coin.  If that’s not acceptable, then we’ll continue on our way.”
The guard considered her for a moment, allowing his eyes to roam up and back.
“I suppose that’s acceptable,” he said at length.  “Tend to your own business while you’re in town, and don’t let yourselves be caught on the streets after dark.  There’s a curfew.”
“Curfew?”  Mox asked.  “Is their danger?”
“Not if you follow the rules,” the guard smiled.
__________________________________________________________

There was very little activity in the streets of Fort Drelev, and while the shops and markets appeared to be open, and farmers and craftsmen plied their trades, they did so quietly and without noise.  Many of the buildings were empty, or were only partially completed.   Guards patrolled the streets at regular intervals, some pausing now and again to pick something from a cart or stand without paying.

At one point, Velox stopped to ask a shopkeeper for directions.
“We’re looking for the Velvet Corner,” the oracle said.
The merchant smirked.
“’Course ya are!” he barked.  “Only place still doin’ a fair trade these days.  Just follow the guards.”
He nodded his head down the street.
“Why is that?”  Velox asked innocently.  
The merchant’s eyes narrowed, and he glanced furtively around.
“Ye’re better off not askin’ such questions, young fella,” he said.  “If ya ain’t one o’ the guards, or one o’ the nobles, ya ain’t nuthin’ round here.  They even got the nerve t’have some big party for baroness’s birthday tomorrow night!  And while good folk are starvin’ in the streets!  Ha!”
He seemed to realize suddenly that his voice had been raised, and he glanced around quickly in fear.  
“Good day to ya,” he said quietly, and turned and went back inside his store.

The Velvet Corner was both a brothel and a gambling hall, and as the merchant had said, business was good.  The only customers, however, seemed to be off-duty city guards, and they were a rowdy bunch.  The working girls kept forced smiles pasted on their lips as they tried to avoid overly zealous hands while still trying to ply their trade.  The mistress of the establishment looked harried as she rushed about the place attempting to deal with small issues before they turned into a full-scale brawl.
“Excuse me,” Mox interrupted as she tapped the woman  on the arm when she swept past.
“If you want a drink, try the bar,” the mistress said.  “If you want a girl, you’ll have to wait in line.”
“We’re actually looking for Satinder Morne,” Mox said quietly.
The woman’s eyes narrowed in her beautiful face.  She was dressed better than anyone else in town, and though frazzled, she still exuded a sense of confidence, bravado and charm.
“Who’s asking?” she said.
“Friends of a friend,” Mox said as she passed Satinder Kisandra’s ring with the stem of a rosebud threaded through it.
Satinder’s eyes widened in shock, and then, for the briefest instant, welled up.  She quickly composed herself and cleared her throat.
“There’s a room behind the kitchen,” she said softly.  “I’ll meet you there in ten minutes.”
___________________________________________________________

Satinder sighed deeply as Mox finished her story.  The queen had explained concisely the events that had transpired in Fort Spears, and what Kisandra had told them.
“Thanks be to Calistria that she’s alive and safe,” Satinder said.  “So, now that you are here, what are your intentions?”
“We intend,” Mox said coldly, “to hold Baron Drelev and his barbarian and Pitax allies accountable for their actions against our country.  In the course of that, we will keep our word to Kisandra and attempt to liberate her father and sister.  Any assistance you can give us in this would be greatly appreciated.”
Satinder considered this for a moment, then nodded.
“Then you shall have it,” she said.  “You will of course find the baron in his keep up on the hill.  He is well-guarded by the mercenaries that Pitax left behind, not to mention a half-dozen giants they also left, who patrol the streets at night.  To approach the keep in the open would be suicide.  However, I know of a very well-guarded secret.  The baron has an emergency escape tunnel that runs beneath the keep and the town to emerge about a half-mile from here, along the shores of Lake Hooktongue.  I’m not certain how well guarded it is, but I’m sure it is a much safer option.  Tomorrow night, a fest is being held in the keep for the birthday of the baroness.  It may be that during such a distraction might be your best chance to strike.  With any luck, you may catch all the snakes in their lair at once…except for the barbarian chief, Armag.”
“Where is he?”  Velox asked
“He left here over a week ago,” Satinder replied.  “He took the women hostages with him, including Kisandra’s sister, Tamary.  I’m not sure where they went.”
“What about her father?”  Davrim said.
“As far as I know, he’s still in the keep’s dungeon,” Satinder replied.
  “Then tomorrow night it is,” Mox said.
__________________________________________________________

Sundown the following evening found the companions gathered at the foot of a bluff on the shores of Lake Hooktongue.  Following Satinder’s instructions, they quickly located a well-hidden door behind a curtain of hanging vines.  It gave onto a roughly carved tunnel that led back in the direction of Fort Drelev.  They followed it for several hundred feet before it opened into a massive cavern, the walls of which bore signs of discoloration from occasional flooding, no doubt due to the water from the lake which entered through the eastern passage.  Stagnant runoff had collected in a natural limestone basin to the north.  To the west, an iron gate rimed with rust blocked the way forward.  

Davrim moved ahead to examine the gate, but as the others moved to follow him, the water in the basin suddenly surged upward in a shallow wave, and two…things crawled forth onto the stone floor.  They looked like nothing so much as immense black blobs of goo.  They slithered towards the companions, extending grasping, hungry pseudopods as they approached.  Before the warriors could even ready their blades, Selena and Mox turned to face the oozes, and simultaneously released balls of fire and acid.  In a moment, both of the creatures were reduced to cracked piles of ash.
“Black puddings, gentlemen,” Mox explained to the wide-eyed swordsmen.  “Hitting them with sharp, point objects just causes them to split in two.  As I’ve said before, men need to learn that all problems can’t be solved with phallic substitutes.”

Davrim turned his attention back to the gate.  It was old, but still strong and securely locked.  He took the gauntlet from his right hand, and placed it against the lock.  Closing his eyes, he began to concentrate, and his hand began to glow.  A moment later, the metal around the lock began to pit and rust before dissolving completely.  He shoved the gate open, and the group continued on.

The tunnel passed through a second, dry limestone cavern, blessedly unoccupied, before ending at a stone wall.  Stevhan’s sharp eyes picked out the door concealed there, which in turn opened into what seemed to be a hidden vault of some sort.  An L-shaped table sat in one corner of the dusty room, its velvet-lined surface displaying a number of small, precious stones and pieces of jewelry.  A couple of larger, ornately carved cedar trunks took up the other corners of the room.
“Baron Drelev won’t be needing these after tonight,” Mox said as she raked the gems and jewelry into her pack.  “Perhaps his people can make better use of them.”
Another door led into a wine cellar, which in turn gave onto a cellar, with stairs that apparently led up to the main keep.  A single door off this chamber, however, opened into a cold, musty dungeon.  Five cells, complete with meticulously crafted iron bars and doors, filled most of the space.  Only one of the cells was occupied, and in it lay a bedraggled middle-aged man who, despite his condition, still possessed a regal bearing.
“Lord Numesti, I presume?”  Mox asked.
“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” Numesti replied.
“I am Queen Mox of Kardashia,” Mox said, projecting the full authority of her position.  “We are here on behalf of your daughter, Kisandra, as well as the people of Fort Drelev, and our own people as well.”
“Your Majesty,” Numesti said as he bowed low from the waist.  “I am humbled and honored.”
“Now that the formalities are over,” Mox smiled, “how about we find you some more comfortable accommodations?”

Davrim performed his trick on the cell’s lock again, and then Velox and Tungdill tended began tending Numesti’s wounds.  
“What can you tell us of Drelev and his minions?”  Mox asked as she stood by the proceedings.  “We understand there’s a celebration tonight for the baroness’s birthday.”
“Oh yes?”  Numesti raised an eyebrow.  “That fits.  She’s always been a self-centered twit who cares more about that yapping dog of hers than she does her own people.  I suppose that’s one reason, among many, why the baron took a mistress.”
At this Mox raised her own eyebrow.
“Yes, the ‘Lady’ Quintessa Maray,” Numesti sneered.  “Oh, she’s a beauty to be sure, but something about her story of being a poor, exiled noblewoman from Galt rings false.  She wasted no time insinuating herself into Drelev’s bed, much to the vexation of the baroness.  I suppose that had something to do with her inviting her brother to come here from Brevoy.  She needed an ally.”
“My, my,” Mox sighed, “the guest list just keeps growing.  What do we need to know about this brother?”
“His name is Imeckus Stroon,” Numesti replied, “and he’s a wizard of some renown.  You need to watch that one.”
“Can you tell us anything of the layout of the keep?”  Velox interrupted as he finished his last curative charm.
“I can do better than that,” Numesti smiled.  “If you have some spare parchment, I can draw you a rough floor plan.  If there is indeed a party tonight, it will be held on the third floor in the ballroom.  Have a care, because Drelev has become more paranoid these days, and usually travels with contingent of guards.  I’m sure the guard captain, Ameon Trask will be in attendance as well.”
His eyes dropped to the floor for a moment.
“I would join you, please believe me,” he said, “but I have a duty to my family.  I feel that I must go to Kisandra and see to her wellbeing.”
“Think nothing of it,” Velox said.  “Thought your wounds are mended, you are still not battle ready.  Go to your daughter, and rest easy knowing that after we deal with Drelev, we are going after Armag, and we will return your other child to you as well.”
Numesti’s jaw set.
“My life is now yours, my lords and ladies,” he said solemnly.  “I will return here once I’ve seen to Kisandra, and when I do, I will bring the people of Fort Drelev to you as well.  On this, you have my word.”
__________________________________________________________

After they’d made sure that Numesti had made it back to the escape tunnel, the companions returned to the cellar and climbed the stairs to the main level of the keep.  They emerged into a large foyer, and came face-to-face with a pair of house guards.  Before their hands could even drop to the hilts of their weapons, Davrim was across the room and had driven his sword through one’s chest.  Selena dropped the second into a deep slumber with a wave of her hand, and the inquisitor quickly finished him off as well.  He and Velox then dragged the bodies back down into the cellar while Mox wove a simple prestidigitation cantrip to remove all traces of blood.  Just as she finished, an elderly man in servant’s livery emerged from a side door.
“Is…everything ok out here?”  he asked tentatively as he eyed the strangers with suspicion.  “I thought I heard a noise.”
“Everything is just fine,” Mox said with authority.  “We are specialists summoned by the baron.  He’ll be calling for you shortly from the ballroom.  I suggest you return to your duties and mind your own affairs until then.”
The steel in the queen’s eyes spoke volumes, and the man gulped once before he scurried back into the pantry.

Moving with alacrity, the group hurried up the central stairwell, passing the second floor landing, and proceeding to the third.  Velox was in the lead, and it was he who emerged into a large art gallery.  The walls held several recessed stone ledges that contained small sculptures and a few paintings.  A pair of double doors on one side opened into a large ballroom, while on the far side, an open-air balcony looked out over the main courtyard.  A dozen or more people stood within the gallery and the ballroom.  Most were armed guards, but four stood apart, two women and two men.  One woman was middle-aged and matronly, dressed in the manner of a Brevic noble.  She carried an annoying-looking little dog under one arm.  The other was much younger, and stunningly beautiful.  She wore a form-fitting, lavender gown with a billowing cape and hood trailing.  The first man was also dressed in noble’s robes, but he also wore fine mail beneath his garb, and carried ornate, though obviously functional weapons at his side.  The second wore more plain and simple robes, though he clutched an intricately carved staff in one hand.  Velox stared at them, and they stared back at him in stunned silence.
“For Kardashia!!” the oracle cried as he drew his blade and charged in.
____________________________________________________________

Drelev stared in shock for a moment as the battle-enraged oracle rushed into the gallery.  ‘The Kardashian nobles?’ he thought to himself.  ‘Here?  In person?’  It wasn’t supposed to be like this.  Captain Trask had, of course, told him of the defeat at Fort Spears, but he never dreamed they would actually come here!  Irovetti had set him up, and now Armag was gone as well.  Panic began to set in.
“What are you waiting for, fools!?” he cried to his guards.  “Stop them!”

Imeckus Stroon was not a bit surprised.  He had suspected all along that nothing good would come of his idiot brother-in-law’s inept leadership.  That’s why his sister had originally asked him to come to this forsaken backwater, to help bail them out of this mess.  That was, of course, before the arrival of the young Lady Quintessa.  Now his sister wanted her dear husband and his whore removed…permanently.  The fools from Kardashia were just the solution to that little problem if, that was, he could stop them from destroying the whole town, himself and his sister included.  As the Kardashian general charged out of the stairwell, the wizard waved his hand and conjured a curtain of crackling electricity behind him, cutting him off from his friends still trapped upon the stairs.
‘That should make things a bit more interesting,’ he chuckled to himself.

Drelev’s guards drew their blades and rushed into the gallery to place themselves in a ring around Velox, keeping him away from their lord.  A deafening roar drew their attention back towards the stairs, however, as a towering half-orc hurled himself through the wall of lightning, electricity snapping across his armor as he brought his upraised sword down squarely upon the head of the nearest guard, dropping the man with his skull split in two.  

Ameon Trask snarled to himself at the inability of his men to perform a simple task.  As he stalked towards the melee, he drew a red gem from his tunic and crushed it in his hand.  As he did so, a towering pillar of flame bearing a roughly humanoid outline suddenly erupted in the middle of the gallery.

Velox, though fully in the throes of Iomedae’s wrath, was not unaware of what was going on around him.  Though Davrim’s arrival on the scene had distracted his opponents, the appearance of the elemental had more than balanced the equation.  Until the others found some way around the lightning wall, a problem he was sure Mox was already working on, he and the inquisitor were on their own.  Time to even the odds again.  Calling on the favor of his goddess, the oracle began to grow.  Within seconds, he towered nearly twice his normal size, his arms and armor growing proportionately.  The guards’ faces blanched as they beheld the ten-foot long greatsword being leveled at them.

“We’re not getting any younger,” Selena said as she grabbed Mox by the wrist.  “Are you ready?”
“For anything,” Mox smiled.  “Tungdill, are you coming?”
“Don’t worry ‘bout me, girlies,” the dwarf rumbled.  “Got my own way of travellin’.”
Mox nodded, and in a flash, she and Selena vanished, only to reappear a moment later just inside the gallery.  The first thing that caught Mox’s attention in the general chaos, was the sight of Baroness Pavetta Drelev fleeing towards the balcony, her little ankle-biting dog yapping its fool head off.
“Not so fast, my Lady,” Mox murmured as she pinched her thumb and forefinger together.
Across the room, the baroness suddenly grabbed her throat, her face going red and her eyes bulging as all the air was abruptly sucked from her lungs.  Suffocating, she reached a door on the far side of the balcony and jerked it open…only to come face-to-face with a hulking…thing that appeared to be made entirely out of earth and rock.
“Goin’ somewhere, missus?”  Tungdill growled.  
The druid’s feet were still buried in the floor where he had glided through the stone to prevent just such an escape attempt by any of the party goers.  Parvetta’s eyes, if possible, grew even wider.  She slammed the door shut again just as consciousness failed her.  Black spots before her eyes from lack of oxygen, she slumped against the door, her lips blue.  Her little dog began licking futilely at its mistress’s face.

Quintessa Maray was still in a state of shock.  Like her lover, the baron, she felt that things were not supposed to be happening this way.  When the forces of Pitax had mobilized against Fort Drelev, certain powers in the River Kingdom of Daggermark had taken an interest in what their old rival might be up to.  Quintessa (not her real name) had been sent as a spy to infiltrate Drelev’s court and learn what she could about the motives of Pitax.  Endearing herself to the baron had seemed the most expedient way to accomplish her mission, and she’d learned much, both in and out of his bed, in the ensuing weeks.  Still, she wasn’t certain of what Irovetti had hoped to gain by attacking Kardashia.  It seemed a foolish risk, and now here were the upstart realm’s rulers here in the flesh.  Though she was loyal to Daggermark, Quintessa had no desire to die in the line of duty.  Having no immediate avenue of escape, her only recourse was to aid her erstwhile allies in defeating the Kardashians.  So she did what she did best…she began to sing.  So beautiful and haunting was her voice, that for a moment, the battle came to a halt.  Then, Drelev’s men, so inspired by her words, snarled with renewed vigor as they pressed their attack.

Velox danced a deadly ballet with the cadre of guards that surrounded him.  He winced in pain as a sword thrust slipped past his defenses, but kept moving, trying to avoid letting his enemies attack his flanks.  At that moment, Stroon conjured up a second wall of coruscating electricity, this time with Velox trapped directly in the middle of it.  The energy rippled through the oracle and he went involuntarily rigid, allowing the wizard a few precious seconds to put some distance between himself and the giant warrior.  Before Stroon could get completely clear, however, Velox wrenched himself free of the wall and lunged for the wizard, his elongated sword tangling between the wizard’s feet and sending him sprawling to the floor.  Stroon quickly rolled to his back and threw up his arms to hurl a spell at the looming oracle, but Velox was faster and brought his blade down upon the man, ruining his casting and momentarily stunning him.

At Trask’s direction, the fire elemental lumbered towards Velox, but before it had taken three steps, Davrim was there.  The hulking creature swung its burning arms in big, loping arcs towards the inquisitor, but he managed to duck and weave beneath the clumsy attacks.  Quick as a cat, he countered, his sword glowing with Iomedae’s power, specifically attuned to the elemental’s nature.  He struck three times in rapid succession, and the brute hemorrhaged liquid fire from the gaping wounds before it dissolved into ash, banished back to its home plane.

Ameon Trask cursed roundly.  He wasn’t about to let these fools humiliate them a second time.  He drew a second gem from his belt and was preparing to crush it, when a hand abruptly seized his shoulder.  He turned in fury, and saw Selena standing behind him.
“Let’s see how well you cast your hexes without your hands, witch!” he snarled
Before he could reach for his sword, however, Selena sent a powerful jolt of electricity surging through the guard captain’s body.  Trask jittered and jerked, blood pouring from his eyes and ears before he fell to the floor, where he continued to twitch for several more seconds before he finally became still for good.

“That’ll be enough out of you, little songbird,” Mox said as she crooked her hand towards Quintessa.
The bard’s voice abruptly choked off as Mox’s suffocation took hold.  Stroon lay not far from her, and she stumbled desperately towards the wizard, heedless of the giant oracle standing over him.  For his part, Stroon was only peripherally aware of the woman’s plight.  He was more concerned at saving his own skin, and as Velox’s sword began to fall again, the wizard managed to get off a last-ditch spell.  The blade stopped in mid-air as it struck an invisible barrier, a wall of pure force.  Quintessa’s eyes grew wide with hope, for she had ended up on the same side of the wall as Stroon.  Her lips turning blue, she fumbled a scroll from her belt pouch and dropped it at Stroon’s feet, her eyes pleading with him.  He glanced at it.  A dispelling enchantment.  
“I think you have me confused for someone who has your best interest at hear, ‘my Lady,’” Stroon smirked.  
He then snapped his fingers and vanished in a flash of light.  A moment later, Quintessa collapsed, and gasped her last.

Drelev couldn’t believe what was happening.  In a matter of seconds, his wife, his lover, his guard captain…all dead, and his traitorous brother-in-law fled.  His soldiers fought valiantly, but he knew it would only be a matter of time before they were overwhelmed as well.  Already, more were falling.  One had managed to sneak  up behind the witch while she’d been occupied with Trask, and had driven a blade into her ribs, but to Drelev’s astonishment, there had been a backlash of energy, and the guardsman had fallen instantly dead.  Then she’d killed two more with her bare hands, electrocuting them both!  No, if he was going to have any chance at surviving this debacle, Drelev was going to have to act.  Blade in hand, he charged towards the towering form of Velox and slashed viciously across the oracle’s spine.  Velox howled in agony and spun about, swinging wildly.  Drelev danced nimbly away, but he underestimated the oracle’s reach.  Velox lunged after him, and that time, the tip of his sword swiped across the baron’s throat.  Drelev, in a panic, clasped a hand to the wound, blood pouring from between his fingers as he backpedaled towards the balcony.  His retreat was abruptly halted when he came up against a solid object…Davrim.  He turned in horror, just as Velox drove his sword completely through his back, the tip emerging from his chest.  
“I…sorry…,” Drelev gasped as his sword fell from his numb fingers and he clutched at Davrim.
“Apology accepted,” the inquisitor said.

About one thing, Drelev had been correct.  His soldiers were no match for the Kardashians.  One-by-one, the remaining ones fell, though to their credit, none of them fled nor begged for their lives.  Their loyalty, though misguided, had been well paid for.  As the last one fell, however, the strident blast of horns sounded from somewhere beyond the balcony.
“Umm…fellas,” Tungdill rumbled from where he stood overlooking the courtyard.  “I think I know where th’wizard went…t’find a few dozen friends…,”


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Kick [MENTION=40136]SS[/MENTION]!

That wizard will follow suit, morale of the soldiers should be pretty low.


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## JollyDoc

Neverwinter Knight said:


> Kick [MENTION=40136]SS[/MENTION]!
> 
> That wizard will follow suit, morale of the soldiers should be pretty low.




Never underestimate the power of rabid fanaticism....or a sadistic DM...


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## carborundum

Fantastico! Thanks JD!

OT Question: back in CoCT you did the Forsaken Arch as a side adventure. What did you think of it? I need an adventure for 7th level party for a weekend game and was thinking of that one. What do you reckon? Yes? No? You have a better alternative?

Thanks for your time matey


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## JollyDoc

carborundum said:


> Fantastico! Thanks JD!
> 
> OT Question: back in CoCT you did the Forsaken Arch as a side adventure. What did you think of it? I need an adventure for 7th level party for a weekend game and was thinking of that one. What do you reckon? Yes? No? You have a better alternative?
> 
> Thanks for your time matey




Forsaken Arch was a good one-shot for the group.  It was just long enough not to detract from the main story path.  Unfortunately, once we switched over to Pathfinder, none of the old 3.5 adventures were compatible any more, so I don't have any of them any longer to give you a decent referral for others.  That being said, you should check Paizo's website, because they've released several of their convention adventures as pdf's.


----------



## JollyDoc

ROYAL RUMBLE

“Now there’s somethin’ ya don’t see every day,” Tungdill said.
The companions stood assembled on the balcony overlooking the inner courtyard.  Below were assembled a dozen or so guards, hastily forming themselves into ranks.  On the walls and battlements were at least a dozen more, while in the outer courtyard, six barbaric giants stood, each of them hefting boulders the size of beer kegs.  On the main road from the town, even more troops could be seen double-timing it up the hill.  It looked like dozens.
“I guess we shouldn’t keep them waiting,” Mox said, steel in her eyes. “Tungdill, you can handle things from here?”
“Ya don’t have ta ask, Queenie,” the druid laughed.
He turned in a complete circle, and suddenly there was a whirling vortex hovering above the balcony.
Mox nodded and turned on her heel, headed for the main stairwell.  The others fell into line behind her, no hesitation in their steps.

_______________________________________________________________

Davrim reached the main doors first, and raising his sword above his shoulder, gave the Kardashian battle cry as he charged head-long into the phalanx gathered outside.  He tore into the foremost of the guards, and cut the man down like a scythe through wheat.  Before he could continue his assault, however, a coruscating curtain of electricity sprang up, catching the inquisitor in the middle of it.
“Up to your tricks again, Stroon?” Mox shouted as she waved her hand and dispelled the wall. “Is that all you’ve got?  Show yourself!”

In response, the guards swarmed the front doors.  Stevhan rushed to Davrim’s side, and the two fell into sync like a well-oiled machine.  Their blades swept the space before them clear as foe after foe tried to break through their defenses.  In less than a minute, four more of the guards lay dead at their feet, and the others backed up several feet, reconsidering their tactics.  

From his vantage point above, Tungdill saw the hill giants beginning to move towards the inner bailey.  
“Now just where would you boys be goin’?” the dwarf chuckled in a voice that sounded like rushing wind.
He focused his will, and a dark cloud gathered above the giants.  With a clap of thunder, sleet began to fall in blinding sheets around the brutes.  Within seconds the ground at their feet was covered in ice.  As they shielded their heads and continued to move forward, three of them slipped and went down in a heap, blocking the inner gate from their kinsmen.

It was Velox who first caught sight of Stroon.  The wizard stood atop the inner battlements beside a pair of archers.  His hands were raised above him, conjuring some spell or another.  The oracle’s eyes blazed white as he brought his own power to his hand.  With a curse, he hurled a beam the intensity of the sun at the wizard.  Stroon howled as the ray struck him, burning his skin and setting his robes ablaze, completely foiling his casting as well.
“Ah, there you are!”  Mox laughed
She clenched her fist, and was rewarded by the sight of Stroon’s face going purple as he began to suffocate.  He collapsed atop the battlement, gasping his last.

Tungdill saw the first of the reinforcements enter through the outer gate.
“More company comin’!!” he bellowed down to the others.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that one of the giants who’d not slipped in the ice was making its way towards the inner bailey.  
“Can’t be havin’ that now, can we?” the druid growled.
He conjured a second storm, this one composed of fist-sized balls of hail which rained down on the giant’s head, as well as pummeling two of the guards perched atop the battlements.  

Meanwhile, the other archers on the battlement opened fire on the front door of the keep, taking advantage of the space the vanguard had recently vacated.  Stevhan, Davrim and Velox darted in three different directions, breaking for cover, while Mox quickly cast an illusion about her that made it seem as if multiple images danced in the air around her.  The archers had no easy targets.  As Stevhan moved, he cut down two more of the guards on the grounds, while Davrim fished a potion flask from his belt and quickly quaffed it.  As he did so, he quickly doubled in size, causing the soldiers in front of him to scatter in panic.  Velox, for his part, made his way directly towards the stairs that led to the battlements.  He meant to deal with the archers up close and personal.  One of the archers quickly dropped his bow as the oracle approached, but he had no chance to draw his sword before he was hacked down.

Mox rose into the air on a column of air until she could see the arriving reinforcements.  She hurled a ball of flame into their midst, scattering a half-dozen or more like rag dolls.  Below her in the courtyard, Davrim reached the inner gate just as the lead hill giant broke through.  The brute wasn’t prepared to see someone his own size, and in his already battered state, he didn’t stand long before the enraged inquisitor.  Before any more of the giants could breach the opening, Tungdill sealed it with a wall of white-hot flames.  Behind Davrim, Stevhan faced off against the last three guards remaining in the courtyard.  As a lucky arrow thunked into the ranger’s thigh, the soldiers rushed him in unison.  He whirled and dodged, his sword moving as if it were an extension of his arm, darting and thrusting, and putting the guards down in rapid succession.

More troops were pouring through the main gate like cockroaches.  Mox hurled a ball of corrosive acid into them, which, though several fell, mainly served to send a large number scrambling towards one of the wall towers for cover.  From atop the inner battlement, Velox could see several of the giants who’d fallen in the sleet storm struggling to their feet.  The oracle quickly wove a wall of fire about them, caging them in.  While his attention was diverted, one of the guards atop the wall rushed towards him, trying to force him over the edge.  Velox nimbly side-stepped the clumsy attempt, and drove his sword through the man’s back, sending him tumbling to the courtyard below.  Meanwhile, the archers on the far side of the courtyard began firing down on Stevhan and Davrim.  The two warriors were pinned down, and Stevhan took a direct hit which pierced his breastplate and drove painfully into his chest.  He whirled and quickly picked the offending sniper off with a perfect shot through the eye.  Suddenly, cries of terror erupted from the archers as a thousand-pound tiger abruptly appeared in their midst.  From high overhead, Tungdill chortled to himself.
“That oughta give’em somethin’ to shoot at!” he laughed.
The tiger pounced on the nearest guard, driving him to the ground.  As the others scattered, Tungdill sent a bolt of lightning sizzling down upon them.  The distraction, however, was short-lived.  Mercenaries though they were, the soldiers were well-trained and well-disciplined.  The archers regrouped and opened fire on the tiger, one of them sending a shaft through one of its feet, pinning it in place.  The other guards redoubled their fire.  In short order, they brought the beast down.  Their triumphant cheers were cut short by more screams as a ball of fire courtesy of Mox immolated the entire group.

Velox’s fire wall didn’t deter the giants for long.  The stupid brutes were too dumb and feral to worry about their own scorched and frost-bitten hides.  They wanted blood.  They surged towards the gate of the inner wall, and only Davrim stood to stop them.  As the first one rushed towards him, he cleaved its head nearly in two with his blade.  He was outnumbered, but the giants could only come at him one at a time.  Having no concept of strategy, they did exactly that.  Again and again one would charge blindly in, only to meet a quick death at the skilled hands of the inquisitor.  In under a minute, three more lay dead at his feet.  As the last one charged, Tungdill let loose with a veritable storm of lightning bolts, roasting the big sod in its tracks.  Davrim turned and glared at the elemental druid.
“Kill stealer,” he growled.

After that, the grounds of the keep became a slaughter house.  Though the guards tried to form some kind of organized assault, they were simply overpowered.  Magical fire, lightning and acid drove them apart every time they massed, killing more of them each time.  When they came in smaller groups of threes and fours, Stevhan, Davrim and Velox were there to meet them, meting out death with frightening speed and ferocity.  In all, the battle lasted less than ten minutes.  When it was done, some sixty Pitax mercenaries lay dead, along with a half-dozen hill giants.  As the last of the explosions died away, the companions heard a chorus of cheers rise up from the town itself.  The news of freedom travelled fast.


----------



## JollyDoc

THE LEGEND OF ARMAG

A thorough search of the keep revealed no further survivors of Drelev’s regime, just several scared but grateful servants.  A search of the library, however, did reveal several interesting facts.  Foremost among these was that Stroon had marked a map of the Slough with the warlord Armag’s current campsite, an ancient Hallit tomb located several days north of Fort Drelev. Included in the margins of this map were notes about Armag himself, or rather, the original Armag.  It seemed that in the earliest days of the Tiger Lord’s history, a man named Armag led his people out of the Realm of the Mammoth Lords and into southeast Numeria. They clashed repeatedly with other barbarian tribes, eventually pushing through the Rostland plains to come up against the Iobarian warlords and centaur tribes of Casmaron. These conflicts forged Armag into a timeless champion who earned the direct favor of Gorum, the Iron Lord and God of War. As it turned out, pride was Armag’s weakness.  He boasted he would live forever, that death herself could never slay him.  Pharasma heard his boasts and was offended.  She sent several of her minions to aid Armag’s enemies to lay him low.  This angered Gorum, who had come to enjoy Armag’s audacity and brutal nature, and as Armag fought against his enemies, Pharasma and Gorum engaged in a battle of wits over the ultimate fate of Armag’s soul. When Armag finally succumbed and died on the field of battle, laid low by a mighty red dragon, Gorum intervened and infused Armag’s soul into his sword, Ovinrbaane, preventing it from entering the Boneyard.  He then sent visions to shamans of the Tiger Lords, inspiring them to construct a fitting tomb for the Iron Lord’s champion.  In recent years, a prophecy had surfaced among the Tiger Lords, which foretold of the coming of Armag the Twice-Born.  It said that this person would be a child formed from the spirit of the original Armag, and he would return the Tiger Lords to their former glory.
___________________________________________________________

Mox stood before the gates of the keep as she addressed the people of Fort Drelev.
“And so I vow to you,” she pronounced as she finished her proclamation, “that we shall return and help you to rebuild your town, but first we will return your missing daughters to you.  In doing so, we shall also deal with the Tiger Lords and their misbegotten leader, so that you will never have to worry about them invading your home and stealing your children again!”
The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, men and women alike weeping openly.  As Mox and her companions mounted their horses and rode out of town, they were escorted by a throng of potential new Kardashians.
_____________________________________________________________

As the group set out across the grasslands that bordered the Slough proper, Stevhan found signs of a large predator travelling parallel with their route, a large cat of some sort, or so he judged.  Eventually the trail led into a narrow valley filled with thorny plants nestled between two sharp-sloped hills. Stevhan’s senses were on high alert.  This was just the sort of terrain that hunting cats liked to hide in, so that they could take their prey unaware. He was just about to say as much to his colleagues, when Velox gave a cry of alarm.
“Watch out!” the oracle shouted.
Stevhan turned as his horse reared, and a tan blur larger than his mount leaped from a nearby tree. It was a smilodon, known more commonly by locals as a sabre-toothed tiger.  It tore the ranger from the back of his horse and bore him to the ground with its jaws clamped around his neck, and its claws tearing through his mail. Stevhan scrabbled for his sword, but his vision rapidly grew dark. The cat shook him like a ragdoll before tossing him aside. He fell limp and didn’t rise.

Velox and Davrim quickly dismounted their horses and moved to flank the beast. It spit and hissed as it spun in circles, trying to swipe at both of them. Velox darted in when its back was to him, driving his sword deep into its side. When it whipped back towards him, Davrim moved in to attack, and the cat yowled in a pain-maddened frenzy. Davrim stepped back as it charged him, but as it leaped, an arrow streaked past the inquisitor’s ear, and straight into the smilodon’s left eye. It fell in a lifeless heap. Davrim turned to thank his savior, and was stunned to see Stevhan standing there, bloodied, but alive. The ranger tapped his breast plate.
“That little enchantment you suggested I get last time we were in Veritas was well worth the gold,” he panted. “Breath of Life indeed!”
_____________________________________________________________

With another day’s travel behind them, the companions could see the foothills in the distance, in which, according to Stroon’s map, Armag’s tomb lay.  With any luck, they would reach them by the next morning. The shadows began to grow long as evening approached, but to Velox, they seemed to be lengthening too rapidly. He glanced towards the sky, and gasped as he saw three very distinct shadows closing quickly towards them. They resolved themselves into horrific, winged creatures that somehow combined the worst features of goat, lion and dragon. Chimerae.

Velox didn’t have time to warn his friends. Instead, he wove a wall of fire about them all that extended twenty feet into the air. The chimerae couldn’t halt their momentum, and they flew directly into the flames. As the monsters scrambled for altitude, Davrim unlimbered his bow and opened fire. The beasts wheeled about, and all three of them opened their draconic mouths and breathed gouts of acid down upon the companions. Stevhan dove from his horse to evade the caustic liquid, pulling a small bead from a necklace that he wore. He hurled it into the air, where it exploded into a fiery ball, engulfing all three of the chimera. One of them tumbled to the ground, a charred husk. Mox cast what was rapidly becoming her signature spell upon another, sucking the air from its lungs and sending it crashing. The last succumbed to another hail of arrows from Davrim’s bow.
_____________________________________________________________

The companions literally stumbled into the encampment of the Tiger Lords, and were just as surprised to see the barbarians as the savages were to see them. The barbarians’ camp was settled in a small box canyon, situated at the edge of a small forest at the base of a high, cliff wall. A dozen or so small yurts were spread out about the clearing, with a fenced-in area for horses on one side, and a large, wooden cage in the center. Within this prison held five young women, dirty and harried-looking, but otherwise seemingly healthy.
“Gentlemen!”  Mox announced. “We’ve come to escort these ladies back to Fort Drelev, but before we go, we’ve business to discuss with your chief. Now if you’d kindly step aside…?”
Momentary silence greeted her proclamation…followed a moment later by the battle cry of a dozen Tiger Lord barbarians.

Davrim sent three arrows flying at the nearest of the warriors simultaneous with Velox’s charge towards the man. By the time the shafts struck, the oracle was in the barbarian’s face, his sword taking him through the gut at the same time the arrows took him in the chest.  He was already dead and falling as Velox ran towards his next target.  He ignored another of the barbarians closing towards his flank.  His faith in his comrades was well-placed as a pair of shafts from Stevhan’s bow dropped the brute in his tracks.  Velox passed another falling barbarian as Davrim opened up with his bow again, his focus on a bear of a man standing next to the women’s cage. The barbarian raised his axe, preparing to fend off the oracle’s blade, and so it was that he was taken completely unaware when a beam of light as bright as the sun lanced from Velox’s hand and struck him in the chest, burning his heart instantly to ash.

The Tiger Lords saw the threat clearly, and three of them broke off from the pack to surround Velox. The others all drew throwing axes from their belts and hurled them towards Mox and company.  Fortunately, in their haste, they made their throws from too far away, and the axes fell short. That did nothing to help Velox’s situation. Instead, Davrim and Stevhan loosed their shafts yet again, and two of Velox’s foes went down. Half the Tiger Lords were dead, yet those remaining showed no sign of quailing. One of them broke for Davrim, forcing the inquisitor to drop his bow and scrabble for his sword. The barbarian’s axe chopped down towards his arm, but Davrim turned at the last moment and took the impact on his side instead. Stevhan moved to help his friend, but a thrown axe from another of the warrior’s grazed his forehead, momentarily dazing him. Instead, his wolf, now grown to the size of a small horse, leaped on Davrim’s foe and bore the man to the ground, its jaws locked around his jugular.

Mox stepped forward and her mandible seemed to unhinge as she opened her mouth to spew a gout of bilious acid at another charging Tiger Lord. The man continued to scream until his throat dissolved along with the rest of his head. Selena tossed a precisely aimed fireball at another pair, and while they twisted and turned, trying to extinguish themselves, Davrim ran one of them through with his blade. Under the distraction of the destructive magic, Velox closed with the remaining three warriors, including the one that was still smoldering. In a truly dazzling display of swordsmanship, the oracle rapidly disarmed the trio of their weapons. Before they could reach for the hand axes at their belts, Mox killed two of them with another blast of her caustic breath, while Davrim neatly decapitated the last.
_____________________________________________________________-

“Your fathers all send their regards, ladies,” Mox said as Davrim released them from their prison. “Rest assured, we shall escort you back to them as soon as our business here is concluded. In the mean time, I trust you will be comfortable with the accommodations.”
She gestured towards the magnificent pavilion that Velox had conjured using a magic rod he had taken from Baron Drelev’s mistress.
The women bowed and curtsied to the Queen of Kardashia, ensuring that the legend of Mox and her companions would only continue to grow.


----------



## Neverwinter Knight

Awesome, JollyDoc, both updates. I especially enjoyed Royal Rumble, very well done, indeed. 

Loocking forward towards Armags tomb and His Little Pet.


----------



## carborundum

Fantastico! Nice bit of showmanship at the end too - the Queen is certainly confirming all the stories about her and her loyal band! 



PS: One last Forgotten Arch query... did you pimp the Kenku at all?


----------



## JollyDoc

carborundum said:


> Fantastico! Nice bit of showmanship at the end too - the Queen is certainly confirming all the stories about her and her loyal band!
> 
> 
> 
> PS: One last Forgotten Arch query... did you pimp the Kenku at all?




If I recall, I think that I just increased their number by 50%.  I didn't actually adjust their stats.


----------



## JollyDoc

THE TESTS OF THE IRON LORD

The natural tunnel that burrowed into the side of the cliff soon gave way to a worked passage carved from pale stone heavy with iron ore. The oxidized brown stains gave the corridor the appearance of long dead flesh streaked in dried blood. After a dozen yards or more, it ended in a square chamber that contained three alabaster statues carved to depict well-proportioned Kellid men, each set in a different war-like pose. The room was not unoccupied when Velox and Davrim stepped in. Two women, clad from head to toe in black, stood clustered in one corner. Arrayed protectively before them was a pair of emaciated figures that looked like horned human skeletons smothered within a bone-tight hide of slimy leather.
“Do not allow these blasphemers to pass!” one of the women hissed.
“Say,” Davrim asked aside to Velox, “don’t the amulets those ladies are wearing look familiar?”
“Gyronna,” Selena snapped. “The same cultists who tried to form a cell in Veritas. These seem a bit more prepared. Those are babau demons they’ve summoned. They aren’t light weights.”

The demons carried wickedly barbed spears, and as Davrim, Stevhan and Velox fanned out, they began twirling and flipping the weapons with practiced skill, their tongues flicking from their leering mouths. 
“Nice moves,” Stevhan growled, “but do you know how to use those pig-stickers?”
The ranger lunged towards one of the demons. The fiend thrust his spear at Stevhan’s gut, but the ranger easily batted it aside with a powerful parry from his sword.  He quickly reversed the blade and drove it with both hands through the babau’s chest. He used the sword like a fulcrum, and twisted the demon so that its back was to Velox. The oracle didn’t waste the opportunity, and ran the fiend through from behind. In a flash of noxious, yellow smoke, the demon vanished.

The second demon darted towards Selena, its spear clenched in both hands. Before it could reach her, however, the witch forked her fingers towards it and a ray of green light struck the creature. It wobbled in its charge, and fell to its knees, weakened by the potent magic of the hex. Mox stepped to Selena’s side and loosed a barrage of arcane bolts into the fiend. It reeled back, and as it exposed its neck to Stevhan, the ranger neatly lopped off its head. It vanished just as quickly as its brother had.

The two sisters stood undefended. Davrim rushed towards them, Stevhan and his wolf companion a step behind. One of the priestesses cast her hands before her, and a wave of power emanated from her. Davrim and Stevhan felt it pass over them, momentarily clouding their minds. The wolf, however, was not so strong-willed. It immediately began growling and snarling in a maddened frenzy, chewing at its own leg as if trying to free it from a trap. Stevhan and Davrim didn’t hesitate. Each of them hit one of the sisters like a battering ram. The women raised their hands to cast their spells, but they never got the chance. It was over in seconds.

“Does anyone else find it an odd coincidence that priestesses of Gyronna are working with Armag, who in turn is working with Pitax, which instigated Fort Drelev’s attack on our country?” Mox asked.
“And that those same cultists tried to foment dissent within our capital city not long ago?” Velox added.
“I guess that’s one more thing Armag will have to answer for when we find him,” Davrim snarled. “So what are we waiting around for?”
__________________________________________________________

Two pairs of iron doors exited the square chamber. The companions chose the set directly across from the entrance. Beyond them lay a long, wide corridor. Four boulders of varying size lay within it. At the far end, progressively larger steps rose toward another set of iron doors. Each step bore a round depression that corresponded in size to one of the boulders below. 
“So what’s the point of this, do you think?” Davrim asked to no one in particular.
“Some sort of trap, I would guess.” Velox replied. “This is a tomb for a champion of Gorum after all. I expect he’d want to make sure any visitors would be worthy.”
“Why don’t we just walk on through an’ open th’doors?” Tungdill grumbled.
“You could try,” Velox answered, “but I’d wager they’re locked.”

The oracle was correct. Not only were the far portals sealed, but there was no visible locking mechanism. The lock was a magical one. The puzzle seemed simple enough: put the corresponding boulder into its indentation. The problem was the sheer size and weight of the stones. Even the smallest looked to be several hundred pounds. Velox solved this dilemma by casting a spell upon Stevhan that doubled the ranger’s size, and correspondingly, his strength. The two of them then began rolling the stones, larges to smallest, up the stairs and into their depressions. It was long and grueling work, but as the last one settled into place, the doors swung silently open.
__________________________________________________________

Columns of fused iron weapons emerged from a sheet of iron on the floor of the chamber beyond the iron doors. A single iron wheel protruded from the floor in the middle of the room. 
“Another test, I suppose,” Davrim grumbled. “Makes me glad I follow Iomedae.”
“That makes two of us, brother,” Velox smiled.
Cautiously, he, Davrim, Stevhan and Tungdill moved into the chamber, leaving Mox and Selena behind. Once again, another set of iron doors exited the room on the far side, and again, it was magically sealed. 
“Well,” Stevhan shrugged, “I guess someone wants us to turn the wheel. So, do we turn the wheel?”
Velox nodded. Stevhan, still giant-sized, reached across the metal platform and began to spin the wheel. Several things happened at once. First, the open doors slammed shut, locking Selena and Mox on the other side. Next, thick sheets of ice formed instantaneously along every surface in the room…walls, ceiling and floor, covering both exits and immediately lowering the temperature to bone-chillingly frigid. Everyone in the chamber wore and/or carried metal on them, and as the air became colder and colder, the touch of that metal began to burn their flesh.
“Keep turning!” Velox shouted to Stevhan.
Though the iron wheel felt like it was grafted to his hands, Stevhan continued to spin it.  Each revolution seemed to take an interminable amount of time, but after seven such turns, he was rewarded by the click of the lock from the doors on the far side of the room. Yet the ice still remained.
“Selena, Mox, can you hear me?” Velox shouted.
“Yes!” came Mox’s muffled reply. “What’s going on in there?”
“Just get in here as quickly as you can!” Velox cried.
A moment later, the witch and the sorceress appeared in a flash of light.
“It’s freezing in here!” Mox shrieked.
“No wonder yer th’queen!” Tungdill snarled.
The dwarf spat out the words to a spell, and a large sphere of fire appeared in the middle of the room. At Tungdill’s command, it rolled towards the far wall, and when it struck the ice, it quickly began melting a hole through it. In a matter of seconds, the doors were exposed, and they were open.
“Let’s go!” Velox commanded.
The companions bolted towards the doors, and as they passed through the freezing air where the ice wall had been, their flesh blistered as though it had been burned.
________________________________________________________

The corridor beyond the doors was filled with thick fog. The group moved through it single-file, Velox in the lead. After several yards, the hall gave onto a flight of stairs, but they were clogged with thick webbing from ceiling to floor. Tungdill, his flaming sphere still trailing behind him, sent the orb ahead, setting the webs ablaze and quickly clearing the stairwell. Velox led the way up, only to come up against a blank stone wall. The oracle closed his eyes and began moving his hands along the wall, searching for any hidden seems or triggers. To his surprise, his skin touched not stone, but metal. When he opened his eyes, it seemed as if his hands had passed completely through the wall. 
“It’s an illusion,” he grinned. “Clever.”
However, even though he’d found the hidden doors, they were sealed.
“I’m getting sick of this!” Davrim snarled.
He walked up to the doors and placed one gauntleted hand against them.
“I bought this little beauty for just such an occasion,” the big half-orc grinned. “One touch and the metal in that door should rust completely through.”
The glove began to glow, but as soon as it did, a flash of black energy surged from the doors, engulfing Davrim. He screamed as he fell to the floor, blood flowing freely from his eyes, nostrils and finger tips.
“There’s some sort of ward in place,” Mox said. “I can sense it.”
“Th..thanks for w..warning m…me!” Davrim stammered.
“Lemme try,” Tungdill grumbled.
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Mox warned, but the druid wasn’t listening.
His form melted and shifted, until his body appeared to be made of living earth. He began to sink into the floor, but he gone no more than an inch or two before he too was blasted by the backlash of energy.
“I told you,” Mox shrugged.
“Perhaps I can assist,” Selena offered. “My hexes aren’t simply curses. They have positive benefits as well. Observe.”
The witch laid her hands on Tungdill’s shoulders for a moment, then released him.
“I don’t feel no different,” the druid said.
“You can’t feel luck,” Selena smiled. “Just go with it.”
Tungdill sighed and turned back to the doors. Once more, he began to sink into the floor, but this time, there was no backlash. Within seconds, he had submerged completely.
__________________________________________________________

When Tungdill emerged from the floor on the far side of the doors, he found himself in a large, dome-shaped room. Four massive pillars held up the high, vaulted ceiling, and at the center of the chamber stood a towering suit of spiked armor, at least twice the size of a man. Two more sets of iron doors sat in the walls on the far side. Tungdill began moving further into the area, looking for any signs of danger. He realized it was right in front of him when the helmet atop the armor slowly swiveled towards him. A moment later, the entire suit began to move. Wisely, the druid sank back into the floor, miraculously with no magical backlash.
____________________________________________________________

“We don’t have much choice,” Mox said after Tungdill had explained the situation. “The way back is sealed. We have to keep moving.”
“How do you propose we get past these doors?” Selena asked. “We can use transdimensional travel again, but there are sure to be more of these portals. I can only do that trick so many times.”
“The simplest solutions are always the best,” Mox shrugged.
She extended her hands, palms out, careful not to actually touch the doors. Concentrating, she felt for the lines of magic that enmeshed the portals, and calling upon her own power, began to unravel them. A few tense moments later, the portals swung silently open.
“Should’a tried that earlier!” Tungdill snapped.
“Like Selena said,” Mox replied, “I can only try that a limited number of times.”
“Um, guys…,” Davrim said, “I think we need to have this discussion later. There’s a ten-foot tall suit of armor headed our way, and it doesn’t look very friendly!”

For its bulk and size, the lumbering behemoth was surprisingly fast. Even as Stevhan moved to interpose himself between it and the women, it swung one massive arm and clubbed him, sending him tumbling into a nearby wall. Davrim charged into the breach, swinging his sword in a broad arc. He knew that striking the iron-hided construct would be like hitting a brick wall, and so he called on Iomedae as he struck, using her power to imbue his blade with the capability of piercing such defenses.  Consequently, when he hit, his sword cut into the armor as if it were flesh. The thing whirled towards him, its arms a blur of motion. Before it could smash him to a pulp, however, a cascade of lightning engulfed it. When the barrage passed, the construct moved as if it were walking through molasses.
“I just figured out what th’bugger is!” Tungdill shouted. “It’s a golem! ‘Lectricity slows it down! Oh, but watch out fer its…,” 
Before he could complete his sentence, the golem exhaled a cloud of noxious, green gas from its helm. 
“…breath!” the druid finished.
As the vapor washed over Davrim, he felt his strength begin to leave him. His vision began to blur, but the last thing he saw was Stevhan and Davrim launch themselves at the golem, their swords smashing it to so much scrap metal.
________________________________________________________

A couple of potions later, Davrim was back on his feet, only slightly worse for wear. While he was being tended, Stevhan’s search of the chamber uncovered one more exit…a hidden one. Mox managed to dispel the warding spells on all three exits, but the obvious choice seemed to be the one they weren’t meant to find.

The corridor the door opened onto was once again filled with webs and mist. Sigils marked the walls, but judging by the dust on the floor, the hallway appeared to have lain unused for centuries. As Velox started down the passage, however, a strange cacophony of clicking and chittering began echoing from somewhere ahead in the darkness. After Selena burned away the webs in front of him with a convenient wand, the oracle gripped his sword more tightly, and pressed on.

The fog was so dense that Velox could barely see more than a few feet in front of him, and so it wasn’t until he was literally face to face with the derghodaemon that he even knew it was there. The creature was a looming, five-armed arachnoid monstrosity, the personification of death from being eaten alive. The sight of the fiend was a shock to Velox, but the oracle had faced worse. What caused his mind to snap, however, was the incessant grinding and clicking of its mandibles and chitinous plates. One moment, Iomedae’s grace had fallen over him, and in the next, all he knew was a gut animal instinct for self preservation. His sword clanged to the floor at his feet as he turned and fled back up the corridor in blind panic, shoving through his startled companions.

Davrim, who had been in the rank behind Velox, had no idea what was happening. A moment after Velox ran past him, the air filled with a thousand buzzing, stinging wasps, while the floor beneath him came alive with an equal number of scurrying spiders. The inquisitor rushed forward, trying to escape the bites and stings, and ran headlong into the daemon. Reflex took over, and he swung his sword with all his might. The blade glanced off the creature’s exoskeleton and lodged in the wall, firmly stuck. As he struggled in vain to free it, Stevhan darted past him and drove his own sword through one of the fiend’s claws. 

At the back of the group, Tungdill couldn’t tell what was happening in the chaos around him. What he did know, however, was that he couldn’t see a damn thing inside the fog. He quickly called up a stiff wind that ripped the fog away in tatters, and suddenly the entire scene unfolded before him and the others. Selena saw the spiders swarming towards Davrim and Stevhan, and she quickly hurled the flaming sphere at them, destroying them all in a fiery swath. She immediately followed that with a fireball centered upon the daemon itself. When the flames cleared, however, there wasn’t a mark on the fiend. Selena’s heart beat quickened in fear.

The ravening daemon gestured with its claws, and a new wave of insects burst into existence, this one extending down the entire hallway and consisting of foot-long, blood-red centipedes. The creatures sank their mandibles into the flesh of the companions, and their bite carried a potent poison. Stevhan and Tungdill were immediately overcome with debilitating nausea. Selena felt weak, but she managed to call down another spell, a column of white fire that engulfed the daemon, but once again, the fiend emerged unscathed. Then Mox stepped forward…

The Queen of Kardashia mustered all of her focus, ignoring the biting, stinging swarms all around her, and wove her most potent magic. Though the derghodaemon was a being of the outer planes, it still needed air to breath, and Mox’s spell stole that from it. The fiend simply collapsed to the floor as its respiratory system shut down. A moment later, Tungdill recovered himself enough to increase the force of his conjured wind to a minor gale. The blast blew all of the insects to the far end of the passage. Once they were all massed together, Selena lobbed another fireball, instantly destroying them all.


----------



## Joachim

Feeblemind sucks.


----------



## R-Hero

How balanced is the gameplay?  From reading the storyhour, the battles seem like the players are walking through many of the encounters quickly and easly.

I know JD takes a certain liberty when writing out the combat but it seems a little one sided.

-OR-

Has the sadistic DM lost a little of his fire and has <gasp> mercy on his players??








Joachim said:


> Feeblemind sucks.




Depends what side your on.


----------



## JollyDoc

Make no mistake, the PC's are heavy hitters, but the derghodaemon gave them pause. When Velox got feeblminded at the beginning of the battle, I think that gave everyone pause. It was very much touch and go until Mox got off her Suffocation spell.  And while we're on the topic, Mox has a rod of persistent spell, which she's fond of using when casting Suffocation. Essentially, this makes the targe of the spell have to save twice, and Suffocation is basically an insta-kill spell. Still, we just started War of the River Kings last night, and I think it's going to prove to be VERY intersting.


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## JollyDoc

WRATH OF THE TWICE-BORN

It was touch and go for several tense minutes, but Selena was finally able to break the enchantment laid upon Velox. While she worked, Mox and the others examined the other exits leading from the room where they’d fought the golem. The hallway which the derghodaemon had guarded had ended at another magically locked door, but Mox had run out of spells to remove the enchantment, and so the group was forced to backtrack. 

Once Velox was back on his feet, they headed south through one of the sets of doors Mox had previously dealt with. They opened onto another web and mist filled hall, but this one was blessedly empty of demons. A short flight of stairs led them down to a short passage that emerged into huge natural cavern supported by a single, immense pillar of stone. To the west rose a high ridge capped by a small forest of stalagmites. Davrim and Velox were the first out of the tunnel, and so it was they who first spotted the shadowy movement among the stalagmites. When they emerged, they at first appeared to be warriors clad in archaic mail. It was only when they moved into the light that it became apparent that, whatever they may have been in life, they were no longer human. They were mostly skeletal, but still had remnants of moist flesh clinging to their bones. Their armor was pitted and rusted, as were the greatswords that hung at their belts. Each of them clutched a long horn bow in their bony fingers.

The skeletal warriors stepped to the edge of the ridge, and knocked their arrows with an eerie uniformity. Before they could draw back their strings, however, Velox raised his hand and conjured a wall of crackling flame that engulfed them all. Behind him, Selena stepped out of the passage and added her own fiery barrage to the carnage. Half of the warriors collapsed into charred embers. The others, though they were still ablaze, raised their bows and loosed. Their aim was deadly accurate, with arrows taking Davrim, Velox and Stevhan, though none of them critical. That, however, was their last hurrah. A moment later, the flames claimed them as well.
___________________________________________________________

Another set of iron doors led from the cavern to yet another misty, bewebbed passage, which in turn opened into an immense chamber. Two churning fountains took up alcoves on either side, their water cascading down the faces of beautifully rendered maidens as if they were crying for the souls lost in battle. Directly ahead, four rows of intricately carved columns reached deeper into the chamber, resembling armed soldiers kneeling in honor of the massive statue of Gorum at the chamber’s far end. A set of stairs descended into a passageway on the far side. An elderly gentleman stood before the stairs. He was dressed cured hides and feathers, and held a long spear in one hand like a staff. 

“I am Zorek,” he intoned gravely, his accent heavy and archaic. “You stand in the temple of the Iron Lord, and I am His chosen guardian. You would not be here had you not proved yourself worthy by surviving His challenges, but I must pose you a final one before you go any further. I will hear your tale, and if I judge it worthy, then you may continue on your way.”
“Has a man calling himself Armag passed this way?” Mox asked.
“That is not for me to say,” Zorek replied. “Perhaps you may find the answer for yourself. Perhaps not. Now…your tale.”
“Well,” Mox began, and she launched into the story of what had brought them to their current position, beginning with the attack on Fort Spears.
Zorek listened impassively until Mox finished. He held her gaze for a moment, and then shook his head sadly.
“Alright,” Mox snarled, “we’ve played it your way. Now it’s time to play it ours. We’re going through that door, and if we have to go through you, so be it!”
Zorek nodded in understanding, then raised his arms and immediately grew to twice his height.
“So be it,” he agreed.

Stevhan drew his blade as he charged towards the priest, but while he was still several feet away, he struck what seemed like an invisible wall. Zorek smiled grimly. Mox grimaced, and then hurled her suffocating magic at Zorek. Nothing happened. Selena followed this with a withering ball of flame. As they dissipated, Zorek was slightly singed. 
“This isn’t going as planned,” Velox said aside to Mox.
“Shoot the bastard!” Mox commanded.
Stevhan and Davrim both sheathed their blades and grabbed for their bows. In unison, they loosed a withering salvo of arrows. The shafts struck true, and no less than six of them pierced Zorek’s chest. A moment later, Velox unleashed a blast of searing sunlight. Zorek staggered, and blood poured from his lips which, oddly enough, were quirked in a smile.
“Well…done…,” he gasped.
He then gestured, and all his wounds simply vanished, leaving him hale and whole once more.
“Try again,” he grinned.
“You heard him!” Mox screeched. “Hit him again!”
Stevhan and Davrim fired once more, their aims true, but this time, when Zorek prepared to cast another spell, Mox preempted him, sending a fusillade of acidic arcane bolts at the priest. Zorek recoiled at the assault. As he did, the energy shield surrounding him faltered, and at that moment, Velox rushed in, sword drawn. He struck the priest a mighty blow, sending him crashing to the ground. As Zorek struggled to his feet, Mox struck again, this time with a ball of pure acidic vitriol.  Zorek’s flesh began to melt from his body.
“Thank you…warriors…,” he wheezed. “Now…I am free…,” 
___________________________________________________________

The final test had been passed. Now nothing stood between the heroes and Armag the Twice-Born. Velox and Davrim rushed down the stairs and shoved the doors open. Flickering braziers cast long shadows across the huge chamber that was revealed, their wavering light gleamed from walls spattered with blood. The air reeked of decay, for the violently hacked bodies of a dozen men lay strewn about the room. A man kneeled on the floor, his back to the doors. A massive blade was grasped in his hands, and it glowed with a hellish crimson light. Between him and the companions stood a row of eight more of the bloody, skeletal warriors. Slowly and deliberately the man stood. He rippled with muscles beneath a breast plate tipped with wicked spikes as he turned towards his enemies. His eyes, beneath his heavy brow, were madness incarnate. As he raised the sword, foam and saliva dripped from his mouth and into his bushy beard.
“Kill!” he growled in a feral voice. “Kill them all!”

As the skeletons lifted their swords and stepped forward, Tungdill raised a wall of fire directly in their path. As they flared alight, the warriors hastily stepped back beyond the flames, and the druid just as quickly dismissed the flames. Velox and Stevhan quickly moved into the breach, just as Selena hurled a fireball directly at Armag. The warlord roared in pain and fury as his skin blistered, but the rage never left his eyes. He stepped forward to meet Stevhan just as the ranger destroyed two of the skeletal fighters with one swing of his blade. Stevhan struggled to parry Armag’s blow, but the massive sword the barbarian bore easily batted his own aside, and carved deeply into the ranger’s shoulder. Stevhan almost imagined he could hear the sword laughing as it soaked in his blood.

As Stevhan staggered back, Velox stepped forward. Armag turned towards him, but as he did so, Velox tangled his own sword with the warlord’s. Armag snarled and jerked his arm back, but when he did, Velox spun away, and his momentum ripped the blade from Armag’s hand and sent it spinning across the room. The oracle then spun back and drove his armored elbow straight into the face of the stunned barbarian. Armag rocked back, and then barked a command at one of his bony minions. The skeleton reached down and retrieved the fallen sword, then moved quickly towards its master. As it came, however, Velox smashed it to flinders, but as it fell, the blade tumbled to Armag’s feet.

Stevhan struggled in vain to staunch the flow of his blood from his arm, but before he could apply a tourniquet, another skeleton lashed out at him. Davrim was quick to come to his comrade’s aid, hacking the automaton apart as it raised its blade again. A moment later, Mox breathed a stream of acid on the remaining skeletons, dissolving them all in one fell swoop. Armag stood alone. The warlord’s eyes flicked towards his weapon, still lying on the ground before him. A moment of doubt flickered across his face, but then he screamed in fury and reached for it. As he did, Stevhan rushed towards him, his sword clutched in his good hand, and brought it crashing down on Armag’s spine. The shattering crack as the bones splintered echoed throughout the chamber. Armag fell, exsanguinating on the floor of his armory, his hand still outstretched towards his sword as he died.
___________________________________________________________

As Davrim’s hand grasped the pommel of Armag’s blade, his mind was filled with a murderous rage, and more hate than he had ever imagined could exist.
‘I am Ovinrbaane!’ a voice shouted into his brain. ‘The Enemy of All Enemies! You shall now be the Iron Lord’s new Chosen! Wield me, and I shall grant you such powers as you have never dreamed of! All that I demand in return is that you slay…them…ALL!!’
“N…no!” Davrim cried aloud as, with a monumental effort of will, he dropped the sword back to the floor.
“What is it?” Velox asked. “What’s wrong?”
“It…it’s alive!” Davrim exclaimed, pointing towards the sword as he backed away.
“Interesting…,” Selena mused. She began walking towards it.
“Don’t touch it!” Davrim cried.
“I don’t intend to,” the witch said.
She murmured a spell, and a translucent, disembodied hand appeared and laid hold of the blade. Then she opened a large sack that hung from her belt, and the hand dropped the sword in.
“It’ll be safe for the time being,” Selena explained. “This is a bag of holding. The inside of it is actually an extradimensional space. We’ll take the sword back with us to Veritas, where I can study it further. Then we can decide what should be done with it.”


EPILOGUE

The heroes returned the daughters of Fort Drelev to their families, amid great joy and celebration. When they took their leave to return to Kardashia, they promised the townsfolk that they would soon return to help the people rebuild. Along the way home, the companions continued their exploration of Hooktongue Slough, dealing with several hostile denizens as they went. At one point, they found themselves between a band of marauding hill giants and a herd of wild horses. Though in fighting and defeating the giants it was not their specific intent to save their horses, their actions nevertheless resulted in that outcome. Thus, they were somewhat taken aback when the stallion of the herd, a coal black specimen that was the finest example of horseflesh any of them had ever laid eyes on, trotted over to them and began to speak. He introduced himself as Windchaser. He explained that he had been awakened by a druid several years ago, and he pledged his eternal gratitude to the group. Specifically, he offered his services as a mount to Velox, who had unintentionally saved his favorite mare from one of the giants. Velox thanked him for his offer, and said he may one day indeed call upon his services.

Kardashia was unchanged when they arrived home, though the people of Veritas were indeed pleased to see their rulers returned. In the weeks that followed, Selena did indeed research the origins of Ovinrbaane thoroughly, and found that it had been specifically created for the original Armag by Gorum himself. In the end, she and Mox determined that it was too dangerous to keep the weapon, and so they arranged for it to be taken to Absalom and given over to the Pathfinders for safe keeping.

In the months that followed, Velox returned to Fort Drelev, and under his guidance, the town was rebuilt, and the people voted to become part of Kardashia. The oracle also paid a visit to Windchaser, and took the stallion up on his offer, but not to become a mere mount. Instead, Velox saw potential in the horse, and began instructing him in the ways of Iomedae. The legend of Kardashia continued to grow, and peace prevailed in the new kingdom for two years. All along, however, unfriendly eyes watched their progress from Pitax, and plans were laid.


----------



## R-Hero

JollyDoc said:


> The oracle also paid a visit to Windchaser, and took the stallion up on his offer, but not to become a mere mount. Instead, Velox saw potential in the horse, and began instructing him in the ways of Iomedae.




Oh...can't wait to see how this plays out.


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## JollyDoc

R-Hero said:


> Oh...can't wait to see how this plays out.




You've heard of a Paladin's mount? What about a mount who's a paladin??


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## javcs

JollyDoc said:


> You've heard of a Paladin's mount? What about a mount who's a paladin??




That's ... _insane_.
Yet so incredibly awesome at the same time.

It will be difficult to wait to see how it plays out.


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## Joachim

I toyed with the idea of turning Windchaser into my cohort and give him levels of monk, but that just seemed silly...flurry-of-hooves seems more like something that Monty Python would have come up with.  Paladin seemed like a more natural, organic choice.  I will be using the 'Divine Defender' mod from the APG to go along with his role as the defender of the herd.


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## JollyDoc

BEWARE OF PITAXIANS BEARING GIFTS

_“Greetings from His Supreme and Inimitable Magnificence, Castruccio Irovetti, by the grace of the gods the rightful King of Pitax, Marvel of Numeria, Master of Mormouth, and Prince-Regent of the Sellen. It is with great delectation and delight that I greet you, my fellow River Kings. I would be honored if you would accept my invitation to attend the fifth annual Rushlight Tournament as my guests. I know you to be discerning rulers, and trust you would not dare miss such an extravagance, for I plan for this to be the finest Rushlight yet! And to sweeten the pot, as it were, I have secured a mighty magical item, a gold and gemstone rod of lordly might, which I am willing to bestow upon the Kingdom that proves itself by fielding the true Rushlight Champion! Could this champion be one of your own? Please confirm your attendance via this invitation’s courier. I look forward to your attendance!”
-King Castruccio Irovetti of Pitax_

Two years had passed since the events of Fort Drelev and the second death of Armag the Twice-Born, and Kardashia was thriving while enjoying a relative peace. To be sure, Mox and her council had not forgotten the slight afforded them by Pitax, but they’d been biding their time, and harnessing their resources. Now, seemingly, their enemy was inviting them to his home, apparently unconcerned that he had for all intents and purposes declared war two years past. 

“This is, indeed, an interesting turn of events,” Selena observed. “The Rushlight Tournament has been a prominent tradition of Irovetti’s since he claimed the crown of Pitax. It draws participants from throughout the River Kingdoms. It might be just the opportunity we’ve been looking for. We might find some potential allies in Irovetti’s neighbors.”
Mox pondered this for several moments, then nodded.
“I agree,” the Queen said. “I think it’s high time we paid our Pitaxian friend a diplomatic visit. Send the word out that we leave for Pitax on the morrow.”
___________________________________________________________

As the royal entourage prepared to depart on the following day, Mox received a last minute request for an audience from a local brewer.
“Your Majesty,” the man said as he bowed low. “I am Bixen Libixyten.”
“Yes, master brewer,” Mox nodded. “What is it that you would ask of me? I bid you to make it a speedy request, as I have pressing business in Pitax.”
“Yes, m’lady,” the brewer bowed again. “It is about your upcoming travels that I would speak. The word among the people is that you go to participate in the Rushlight Tournament. As I am sure you are well aware, the finale of the tournament is the Drunken Joust.”
Mox looked at the man blankly. He cleared his throat.
“Ah…yes,” he continued. “Well, it is tradition that during the joust, the competitors are…intoxicated. I humbly request that if you or your armsmen do indeed compete, that you consider my blackberry mead for your drink of choice. It would bring great prestige to my brewery, and in turn, fame to our fair city. I believe that trade revenue such fame would bring in would be a boon to the nation’s economy.”
Mox considered for a moment, and then smiled.
“I believe we can accommodate your request, master brewer,” she said, “and I think I know just the jouster…”
__________________________________________________________

The Rushlight Festival was held at a massive festival ground a dozen miles northeast of the city of Pitax, about half a mile from the southern shore of the Rushlight River itself, on the banks of a minor waterway known as Cutter’s Creek. The grounds were thronged with people, essentially transforming the area into a small town. Wandering merchants jockeyed for space, crying their wares, whether hot from a basket or cool from a cask. Stages with jugglers, minstrels, mummers’ troupes, and trained animals danced and leaped for the attention (and coin) of the crowds that reveled in King Irovetti’s bounty. A coliseum with an attached staging pavilion on one side had been erected on the north shore of Cutter’s Creek. On the opposite side of the coliseum stood the royal pavilion, reserved for Irovetti and his courtiers. Across the creek was the menagerie, an enormous purple pavilion that served as a showplace of tamed horrors and monstrosities from across Golarion, as well as the Royal Blue, a small lake surrounded by grand silken tents reserved for the private use of the visiting dignitaries from the other River Kingdoms. As Mox and her retinue arrived, they were greeted by a Pitax herald who escorted them to one of the pavilions.
“King Irovetti requests the pleasure of your company in the Royal Pavilion at your earliest convenience,” the herald said as he took his leave.
“I can’t wait,” Mox muttered.

The companions settled into their accommodations, and then made their way around the lake and across the creek to Irovetti’s tent. The interior of the pavilion stood in sharp contrast to its relatively plain exterior. Lush red carpets covered the ground and a dais that supported a carved and gilded chair evoked the feel of a throne room, while a haphazard collection of pedestals bearing sculptures and mounted paintings of wildly varying quality and realism suggested a strange sort of art gallery. A small raised stage supporting numerous large musical instruments sat to one side of the pavilion.
Irovetti himself was a handsome, muscular, dark-haired man in deep red velvets. A crown sat comfortably on his brow, and an elegant cloak draped his shoulders. His belt was thick with tools, weapons, and pouches that bespoke an adventuring lifestyle not completely left behind. He also carried two strange pieces of equipment. The first and most impressive was a long staff of unusual metal, one end of which was fitted with thin blades and a spike that periodically shifted and moved with a soft whirring noise. The second was a thin, short rod of strange metal with a single spike at the end. Small circular lights periodically flashed along its length. The king sat upon his thrown, attended by a pair of beautiful women. He smiled warmly as Mox and her allies entered.

“My most illustrious guests!” he greeted them warmly. “I am so eternally and unendingly happy to see that you have safely arrived. Come, my pretties,” he directed the young women, “bring refreshments for these weary travelers. Whether by magic or by shank’s mare, traveling is thirsty work! Drink with me to our continued success and the bonds of brotherhood and friendship that shall be ours!”
The next hour or so was spent in small talk and niceties. Mox had admonished her companions before they had arrived not to make mention of events at Fort Drelev. The time for a reckoning would come, she assured them. For the present, she wanted to simply play nice, bide her time, and gather what information they could. Irovetti seemed content to do the same. He was the consummate host, but the conversation was shallow and inconsequential. At the end of the evening, he wished his guests good luck in the coming games, and bade them good night.
__________________________________________________________

The first day of the tournament was given over to trading, feasting, a preview of the beasts of the travelling menagerie, entertainment, and after sunset, a grand display of fireworks. That evening, the Kardashians were visited by the tournament’s master of ceremonies, Nunzio Arpaia. 
“I’ve come to apprise you of the tournament rules, and the nature of the contests,” he said as he entered the tent. “First, though each event has its own rules, there are three that govern the tourney as a whole: harm no spectators, kill no competitors, and don’t get caught cheating. Breaking any of these rules is grounds for disqualifications from that event. The events themselves are an archery contest using longbows, a test of strength using handaxes or greataxes, a boasting contest, and a drunken jousting competition. I respectfully request the names of your individual competitors, and how they wish to be introduced.”
The companions discussed the events for several minutes while Nunzio waited somewhat impatiently.
“I shall participate in the archery competition,” Davrim said finally. “You may introduce me as Davrim the Executioner of Kardashia.”
Nunzio blinked silently at that.
“I’ll take the test of strength,” Stevhan volunteered. “You may call me the Stag Lord.”
Velox spoke last. “I will compete in both the boasting contest and the…drunken joust.” He said this last with a glance askance at Mox, who hid her smile behind her hand. “I will be introduced as the Voice of Iomedae.”
“Very good,” Nunzio bowed slightly. “I leave you to your rest and preparations for the coming games.”
___________________________________________________________

The second day of the Rushlight Tournament was designated for the archery competition. 
“The rules are simple,” Nunzio explained to the contestants. “You will all use the bows and arrows provided. You are given six arrows, all of which must be fired in the allotted time of thirty seconds. You have a choice from among three targets, one at a range of 30 feet, one at 220 feet, and one at 550 feet. The first target awards one point per arrow, and the arrow must stick solidly in the target. The second awards three points, and the third five points. A bull’s-eye on any target awards double points. If you fire all of your arrows in less than the allotted time, you will be awarded bonus points. The contestant with the most points when time has expired wins. Any questions?”

The other kingdoms represented among the competitors, besides Kardashia, were Daggermark, Gralton, Mivon, Tymon, and, of course, Pitax. Daggermark’s archer was a roguish-looking fellow named Ilraith Valadhkani, while Gralton’s was a well-muscled half-even woman called Florante Mayank, and Mivon’s was woodsy female elf named Navarathna. Tymon representative was Damanjot, a half-orc who looked as if he had just come in from a week spent in the wilderness, and Pitax’s champion was Villamor Koth, a giant of a man whose physique looked to be carved from iron. Davrim walked with the others to choose his bow and shafts. As his opponents made their selections, something caught the inquisitor’s attention. When Ilraith Valadhkani reached for his arrows, he flicked the sleeve of his tunic ever so slightly, and six adamantium-tipped shafts slid out of it into his hand. 
“He’s cheating!” Davrim shouted.
Nunzio whirled around. “What is this nonsense?” he asked.
“Check his arrows!” Davrim pointed. “He pulled them out of his sleeve!”
“Bring them to me!” a voice boomed from the royal box.
Everyone, crowd and competitors alike, turned as one. Irovetti stood at the railing of his seat, his face a stone mask. Quickly, a runner seized Ilraith’s arrows and raced up the coliseum stairs to the King. Irovetti glanced at the shafts, then back at the contestants.
“The Kardashian’s claim is valid!” he declared. “Daggermark has been disqualified!”
The crowd erupted into jeers and taunts as Ilraith left the field in disgrace.

Once the furor died down, the competitors lined up on their marks. First up was Florante Mayank. The half-elf woman fired with deadly precision, loosing her arrows deliberately, and exactly within the time allowed. All of her shots were aimed at the middle green target, and two of them were bull’s-eyes. The crowd roared as her grand total of 30 points was announced.
Mivon’s archer, Navarathna shot second. The elf maid was something of a show-off. She also chose the green target, but she rapid-fired all six of her arrows in just 12 seconds, earning herself a hefty time bonus, but finishing with only 26 points total.
Damanjot, the half-orc from Tymon was next. He took his time lining up his shots, and when he shot, he arced his arrows high, causing them to travel farther, and hitting the red target each time. He to earned 30 points.
Villamor Koth of Pitax also chose the red target, and so strong was his pull on his bow, that each of his arrows sank to the fletchings inside the target. Thirty points was his tally, and thus a three way tie was the result.
Last came Davrim. In his first volley, the inquisitor scored two hits on the green target. He then paused for a moment to speak a brief prayer, asking for Iomedae’s divine favor. It seemed his goddess was not listening. His next two shots struck the red target, but his fifth missed entirely. His last shot struck the red again, but that brought his total only to 21. He lost
Pitax, Tymon, and Gralton each began firing for the tie-breaker, and though all three acquitted themselves well, it was the barbarian Villamor Koth who raised his bow in victory at the finish.
___________________________________________________________

Day three of the tournament was given over to the Test of the Axe. This competition, Nunzio explained, would consist of each contestant being given six logs and their choice of using either a greataxe or a pair of handaxes. In one minute, the competitor had to chop through as many of the logs as possible. Each log destroyed granted 5 points, while each one damaged granted 2. The winner would be the axeman (or woman) with the most points. This time, Stevhan carried the banner for Kardashia, and the ranger chose a greataxe for his chopping. His opponents were Yegina Varudu of Daggermark, a rather small and frail woman dressed in robes, Kilbaskian Ord of Gralton, a gruff human who wielded a pair of handaxes, Dizon Marmada of Mivon, a burly female dwarf, Timsina Siraj of Tymon, a female priest of Gorum, and once again, Villamor Koth of Pitax.

When the horn sounded, each of the competitors began their own preparations. Though Yegina drew much mockery from the crowd due to her small stature, the calls changed to awe as she began weaving several potent spells, causing her first to double in height, and then become hugely muscled and incredibly fast. Kilbaskian Ord whirled like a dervish with his two hatchets, finishing the round by hurling them both at an undamaged log to score a few last second points…and a few jeers from the stands. Dizon Marmada was straightforward in her approach, wielding her greataxe like a seasoned lumberjack. Villamor Koth took a swig from a large drinking horn before he began, and moments later seemed to be moving like greased lightning. The whites of his eyes turned red, and foam and froth spewed from his lips as he hewed away  with his axe. Timsina Siraj also called on magic, but it was the divine power of her god. Her axe began to glow, and she too grew in strength and stature as she set about her task. Stevhan also took a draught from a flask before he began, growing in size as other competitors had done. He then stamped one of his enchanted boots, increasing his speed, gripped his axe in both hands, and never looked back.

The crowd cheered wildly at the antics of the contestants, and when the dust and wood chips cleared, the outcome was clear. The sorceress from Daggermark, though impressive in the initial seconds, only managed to destroy two logs, and damage one more, for a total of 12 points. Gralton’s ranger fared better with his two-axe style, but only marginally. He destroyed two logs as well, but damaged three, for a total of 16 points. The dwarf woman from Marmada managed to decimate four logs, earning herself 20 points. Gorum's priestess also scored 20, and Villamor Koth stood proudly over his four destroyed logs, and one damaged, gathering 22 points, and confident of a second victory…until he looked to Kardashia. Stevhan stood over six completely destroyed logs. The crowd was silent for a moment, and then broke into a deafening roar as the newest River Kingdom claimed their first prize.
____________________________________________________________

Day 4 of Rushlight brought the event that the audience had been most anticipating, as well as being one of the most traditional: a test of boasting and storytelling. Nunzio Arpaia explained that each contestant would take a stage in the middle of the coliseum and boast to the fans of one of his greatest accomplishments. The rules stated that the tale must last for five minutes, and consist of an introduction, the tale itself, and an artistic performance to enhance the story. Audience response would determine the overall winner.

First up was Daggermark’s storyteller, Memon Esponde, a rakish chap with a mischievous gleam in his eye. He spun an improbable tale about how he once stole into a temple of Calistria and seduced all seven of its priestesses, including the high priestess, in a single night. When the clergy realized he loved none of them, he escaped on the back of the temple’s sacred giant wasp, with the high priestesses corset as a trophy. It was obvious to all listening that the high priestess in question was none other than Tymon’s contestant, a beautiful elven woman named Mialolessa. The priestess seemed nonplussed by the rogue’s ribald tale.

Next was a rotund dwarf from Gralton by the name of Ankus Depergode. He made up for his apparent awkwardness with a bombastic voice, however. He boasted of how he stowed away on the Seawraith, the ship of the goddess of pirates, Besmara, and of his adventures in the outer sphere. In particular, he bragged of how he won a deva’s wings and a devil’s beard in a single gambling game. Despite the audacity of his claims, the crowd seemed to be particularly excited and delighted by his tale. As Tungdill observed the audience, however, he began to notice a pattern. Several people positioned a key locations throughout the stands were the loudest and most enthusiastic, inspiring those around them into greater cheers. After several moments, the druid noticed one man in particular placed in the midst of the stands. His eyes were closed, and his fingers worked quick gestures as he mouthed to himself quietly. A spellcaster! Tungdill surged to his feet and bulled his way through the throng until he could reached the man. He seized him by the tunic and lifted the frightened fellow from his seat.
“Another cheat!” Tungdill boomed. “He’s manipulatin’ th’people!”
This fact was quickly proven true when several of Irovetti’s heralds cast about for the presence of magic and found many of the onlookers to be enthralled. Ankus panicked and fled from the stage amid the catcalls and jeers of the mob.
“Gralton has been disqualified!” Irovetti announced.

Mivon’s teller came next. She was a well-spoken warrior named Ceala Ravenbrow. Her boast was a tale of blood and danger…how she single-handedly saved a small village in northern Galt from the ravages of a demonic chimera who had wings of fire and a scorpion’s tail. If her story was to be believed, she had lopped off the chimera’s dragon head with her sword, crushed the goat head under a falling rock, and tore the tail from its body and then strangled its remaining lion head in order to kill it…all without spilling the glass of elven absinthe she’d started to drink when the chimera had spotted and attacked her. The crowd was dubious.

Pitax’s representative was a woman of lovely voice called Annamede Belavarah. She was a well-known comedian and social commentator from Pitax City, and was beloved by the populace. She’d also won the boasting competition in every previous year. The story she told was a strange one. It was all about how shed’ spent the past several years spying upon the kingdom of Kardashia, and using her influence to cause general misfortune for its rulers. Her knowledge of various embarrassing failures and problems the kingdom had experienced felt eerily accurate to Mox and her companions. They were the only ones among the audience not amused. Clearly, Annamede was once more the front-runner.

When Kardashia was announced, to the astonishment of the crowd, it was not a person who walked to the stage, but a sleek, ebony stallion. Windchaser mounted the stage gracefully, and when he opened his mouth to speak, the crowd erupted in disbelief.
“It is my distinctive pleasure,” Windchaser boomed, “to announce to you the greatest general the River Kingdoms have ever known! I give you the Voice of Iomedaeeeeee….Veeeeeelox!”
The crowd went wild as the oracle emerged, bedecked as he was in golden armor that shined with light of the sun, robes of deepest crimson and brilliant purple draped across his shoulders. Numerous badges of honor bedecked his chest, and the jewels that gleamed within them were dazzlingly bright in the noon-day light. 
Velox bowed deeply to the crowd, and with mock-respect towards Irovetti, eliciting laughter and cheers from the onlookers. He then launched into the tale of Fort Drelev, and how the innocent folk there had been duped and betrayed by an unholy alliance between their evil overlord and his savage barbaric allies the Tiger Lords, as well as a ratty band of mercenaries of dubious skill. He spoke derisively of their lack of character and skill as he and his companions invaded the town and the keep, slaying the despot and his whores, as well as destroying to a man the ragtag army who had obviously been in the employ of some scurrilous cad of questionable parentage. He finished his story with the tale of how he and his companions had pursued the second-coming of Armag to the tomb of his ancestor, defeated the tests of Gorum, and faced the warlord and his undead minions in mortal combat. This last part he illustrated by dancing a complex performance simulating the battle itself, ending with Armag being disarmed of his legendary blade, and then having his spine severed. The audience was mesmerized, and when he’d finished his story, the roar of approval could be heard for miles around. Kardashia had won again, and was now tied with Pitax for first place.


----------



## carborundum

Oooooh, sneaky! And awesomely kick-ass of course


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## JollyDoc

Sunday Teaser (SH excerpt to be posted in 2 weeks)


Mox's consort dead?? Stevhan's animal companion dead??  Mox pregnant??? What the Hell's going on around here??


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## WarEagleMage

Further update:  Armies march across the Stolen Lands.  Volleys of arrows darken the skies and centaur lancers thunder across the battlefield.  Giants, wyverns, trolls, oh my!  Fortunately for the PC's they have some Gen Con Axis & Allies tournament semifinalists at the helm...  Can the walls of Pitax stand up to the might of the Kardashians?  And what of Pitax's nefarious leader?  Hiding from justice will only delay the inevitable - no, not that kind of Invevitable.


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## JollyDoc

WAR OF THE RIVER KINGS

“You know I’m not comfortable with this, don’t you?” Velox asked.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Mox replied innocently.  “It’s not like you’ve never ridden into combat before.”
The queen and the general stood at one end of the jousting lists that had been erected in the coliseum. It was midnight, yet the stands were full of revelers and spectators. The other jousters were milling around as well, waiting for the even to start.
“That’s not what I mean,” Velox snapped. “It’s not the jousting part that bothers me, it’s the ‘drunken’ part.”
Mox waved his complaint away. “You’re such an uptight stick-in-the-mud,” she said. “It’s all in the name of fun, and all the participants will be drunk. From the looks of things, most of the fans are too. Besides, with your lack of experience, I don’t think it will take much drink to qualify you.”
Velox shook his head. “Fine,” he said. “Give me the flask.”

The Midnight Joust was the final event of the Rushlight Tournament, and the many of the fans looked forward to it, as it promised the best chance at seeing the competitors actually hurt each other. The joust itself would take place in three stages. The first would consist of each of the contestants, with the exception of the previous year’s champion, jousting against a Pitax Warden. The stage would continue until only two competitors were left. The second stage would involve those two facing off against each other, and the final stage would be the winner versus the previous champion, which was none other than Pitax’s own Villamor Koth.

One by one the jousters took to their mounts, some of them a bit more clumsily than others, depending on the amount they had imbibed. The Warden, on the other hand, seemed cold sober. Even so, the sheer skill of the individual kingdoms’ representatives far surpassed that of the soldier, and he was unseated again and again. Finally, however, the luck of the rider from Tymon, Damanjot, the same half-orc who’d competed in the archery competition, ran out, and he was knocked from his horse to the roar of the crowd. The next competitor unhorsed was Gralton’s champion, a knight named Sir Briannel Paulson, and the third was Khristel Cotoio, a warrior from Mivon. That left Velox and Daggermark’s rider, fierce female named Chantal Urena, to face off in the second stage.

Little did Velox know, as he mounted up for the second round, that Windchaser had also decided to partake of a bit of the Libixyten mead that had been sent along from Veritas. Consequently, the stallion reared eagerly and pawed at the air as he faced his opponent on the far side of the lists.
“Whoa!” Velox hissed, his head already swimming. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Just ready to show this nag what a true stallion can do!” the horse laughed. “Let’s ride!”
With no urging from Velox, Windchaser hurtled down the lists. He was already halfway down before Chantal Urena could even get her mount moving. By the time the jousters met, Windchaser’s momentum was unstoppable. Velox’s lance struck Chantal like a battering ram, and sent the woman flying. She hit the ground unconscious, and the crowd sounded like a tornado with the ferocity of their applause. Velox would be advancing to the championship round.

“Look at that ape!” Windchaser taunted as he glared across the field at Villamor Koth. “I’m surprised he can mount anything other than his sister!”
“What’s wrong with you?” Velox snapped. “I’m barely able to keep my own seat as it is! That mead is potent!”
“Amateur!” Windchaser snorted. “Just leave everything to me!” 
“Ladies and Gentlemen!” Nunzio announced from the center of the arena. “This will be the final competition of the Rushlight Tournament, and it will be for the overall championship! As of this moment, the kingdoms of Kardashia and Pitax are tied! So let’s hear it for our challenger, Velox of Iomedae, and our reigning champion, Villamor Koth of Pitax!”
The crowed redoubled its roar and the tension mounted.
“On my mark!” Nunzio called. “Ride!”
“Llllllllettsss get ready to rummmmbllllle!” Windchaser roared as he surged ahead into a full gallop.
Villamor Koth was quick of the mark as well, however. At the last moment, just before the two combatants met, Koth lowered his lance just a fraction, and when he struck, the lance head pierced Velox’s mail between the plates, and plunged deep into his flesh. He rocked back in his saddle, and almost fell. It was only Windchaser’s excellent agility that kept him in the saddle. Still, when he reached the far end of the lists, he was bleeding profusely.
“Did you see that?” Windchaser snarled. “The bastard did that on purpose! Next pass, run him through!”
“No…,” Velox groaned. “I won’t stoop to that. I’ll win fairly, or not at all.”
“Humans!” Windchaser snorted. “It’s no wonder you only settle for one mate!”
Velox turned and readied himself for the second pass. Windchaser leaped forward, and Villamor Koth came at a full charge. Velox could see the barbarian had lowered his lance again, and this time was aiming it for the oracle’s heart. At the last moment, Velox twisted in the saddle and took the lance tip in his side. He didn’t move his own lance however, and it struck Koth full in the chest. The big man reeled and overbalanced, crashing to the ground. The crowd went wild at the stunning upset. Villamor Koth got up slowly and dusted himself off. He nodded once at Velox, but his eyes did not convey congratulations. Instead, they promised a second meeting some other day.
___________________________________________________________

With the end of the Midnight Joust, King Irovetti and his master of ceremonies took the field,  and invited all of the contestants to join them as they awarded the winning River Kingdom, Kardashia, the grand prize…the promised Rod of Lordly Might. Once the ceremony ended, the crowd dispersed quickly, eager either to attend one of the many post-tournament celebrations, or to get some much-needed rest. For the Kardashians, it was the latter, for in the morning, it would be time to return home.
____________________________________________________________


Veritas was in flames.  The journey from Pitax to Kardashia had been instantaneous for the companions via Selena’s magic, but when they arrived in their capital city, it was to find total chaos. People were screaming and crying in the streets, militia rushed about trying to keep some semblance of order, and many buildings burned. 
“Soldier!” Velox shouted as he seized a militiaman by the arm. “Report! What’s happened here?”
“Sir!” the young soldier snapped off a salute to his general. “We’ve been attacked!”
“Attacked?” Velox snapped. “By whom?”
“Trolls, Sir!” the soldier replied. “And dragons, and warriors from Pitax, all working together!”
Velox let the man go, and turned to Mox and the others.
“That bastard!” Mox hissed. “It was all an elaborate ruse to draw us away from home! He planned this all along!”
“And we played right into his hands,” Davrim shook his head.
“Yet it’s Irovetti who will come to regret this day for the rest of his short life!” Mox spat. “I swear it!”
_________________________________________________________

As it turned out, the actual damage to the city was much less than had originally appeared. Several buildings had been damaged, and a few actually destroyed, but the death toll had been limited to a few dozen. The attack had been more of a hit-and-run than a full-scale assault. The marauders had indeed been a combined force of trolls, regular army from Pitax and, as it turned out, wyverns, not dragons. The entire attack had lasted barely an hour, and then the armies had retreated back into the grasslands. The companions lent their exceptional abilities to quickly putting the city back to rights, and in the days that followed, the fears of the populace were allayed by the reassurances of Mox that the declaration of war by Pitax would be answered in kind. Yet time was short. As each day passed, rumors of raids by the invading army on smaller towns and villages continued to grow. Volunteers from across the kingdom flooded into Veritas, answering the call to arms, yet Mox knew that even more forces would be needed. She sent word by couriers to the far corners of Kardashia, and due to the goodwill fostered by her reign, her call was answered. From the eastern lands of the Nomen, Aecora Silverfire sent 1,000 of her finest centaur warriors, while from the north, the Sootscale kobolds sent 1,000 skirmishers. All swore their fealty to Mox and vowed to serve her unto death. Velox and Davrim each took command of half the centaur outriders, while Selena volunteered to lead the kobolds. Mox herself rode forth at the head of 1,000 Kardashian soldiers. Within a week of the assault on Veritas, the forces of Kardashia set out to rid their homeland of the foreign scourge. 

The two armies met shortly after dawn on a beautiful summer’s day. On one side of the field of battle stood the forces of Pitax: battle-hardened soldiers shoulder-to-shoulder with brutish trolls while above them giant wyverns swooped and dove on their leathery wings. Facing them, mounted militia, wolf-riding kobolds, and savage centaurs stood grim-faced and fearless. For just a moment, an eerie silence reigned. The wind was still, and no birds called. A moment later, horns sounded and battle cries rang out. Velox’s centaur warriors drew back their bows as one, and then released a flight of arrows that momentarily blotted out the sun. As the arrows fell towards the massive trolls, the oracle himself brought his own powers to bear. At his call, massive walls of fire sprang up in wide circles around the giants, hemming them in and keeping them bunched as the arrow swarm fell among them. They fell in scores, and most of them did not rise again.

Davrim’s centaur contingent added their own arrows to the flight, but theirs were aimed high, where the wyverns circled the field. The shafts tore through the wings of the creatures, sending them spiraling to the ground. As they fell, Selena ordered her kobolds forward, summoning up a cyclonic wind storm that prevented the wyverns from taking to the air again as she did so. The fierce little warriors charged in atop their wolves, driving swords and spears into the downed dragons before they could recover. Unfortunately for the kobolds, trolls had the inconvenient habit of regenerating. While the Sootscales were finishing off the wyverns, many of the trolls lurched to their feet and began tearing into the kobolds. 

At Mox’s command, Davrim and Velox sent their centaurs charging into the fray. The Kardashian soldiers rode hot on their heels, all three contingents heading directly towards the Pitax regulars. Mox sat astride her mount on the hilltop overlooking the battlefield, but the Queen was not content to lead from afar. She raised her hands above her head, and as she spoke, fire began raining down from the sky among the Pitaxians, exploding all around them and sending hundreds of men flying and scattering like leaves on the wind. The centaurs then rode into the soldiers like waves crashing upon a beach. The Kardashian soldiers behind them diverted their charge to put down the trolls once and for all. Sadly, it was already too late for the Sootscale kobolds. The Kardashians took the time light torches and set the trolls ablaze before they moved to join the centaurs, insuring that the giants would never rise again. 

As the combined centaur and human forces fell among them, the Pitaxian formations faltered and broke. Their general, a gigantic, blue-skinned creature, tried to rally them, but to no avail. They were in full route, but as they fled, the centaurs loosed their arrows again, cutting them down to a man. Yet their general turned into a cloud of mist as the Kardashians charged towards him, and vanished into the sky. Mox watched the commander’s retreat as she spurred her horse down the hill to join her troops. 
“You have served your country and your kinsmen with honor and valor!” she shouted as she rode before the warriors. “Many have given their lives here today, and thus earned a place in the annals of Kardashia’s history! The Sootscale tribesmen, in particular, acquitted themselves as heroes on this field of battle, and let no one, from this day forward, speak anything but praise for the little folk!”
With a voice like thunder, both human warriors and centaur cheered mightily at that.
“Yet do not think our work done here today!” Mox continued. “We have repelled the invaders from our lands, but this affront shall not go unanswered! On the morrow, we ride for Pitax, and we shall show their so-called bandit king the mortal error in judgment he has made! We ride to wrath…to ruin…and the red dawn!”
_________________________________________________________

The next morning, as the others led the troops across Hooktongue Slough, Mox traveled ahead to Fort Drelev. By the time the army arrived, she had managed to raise an enormous militia among the people there, to replace the loss of the Sootscales. Before the forces moved out, however, a rider from Veritas arrived in town, breathless, exhausted, and demanding to see the Queen. 
 “What news?” Mox asked as the courier was brought before her.
“I bring word from your Master of Espionage, my  Lady,” the man huffed as he struggled to regain his breath.
“Leaf?” Mox asked. “Continue!”
“His sources have brought word to him of a plot by Irovetti to develop a new weapon to be used against Kardashia,” the courier said. “The weapon is a horn that is rumored to be able to create clouds of killing fog. Reports are that it is being built in a remote ruin in the Branthlend Mountain foothills called Whiterose Abbey.”
“I’ve heard of the place,” Davrim said. “It was built by the church of Cayden Cailean, and was renowned for the rich and potent wine produced by its priests, but it’s been abandoned for decades. Rumor has it that the abbot was murdered, and all the brethren poisoned by the abbey’s gardener for some slight or another. It was also said that a beautiful water spirit dwelt in a pool somewhere below the abbey, and that is was she who enabled the priests to brew such fine spirits.”
“Fascinating,” Mox said flatly. “I’m only interested in who’s there now. Tomorrow morning, Tungdill and Stevhan will lead the army into the Glenebon Uplands while the rest of us will investigate this abbey to see if there’s any truth to these rumors. Now, see to the courier’s needs and prepare the soldiers to move out at dawn.”
________________________________________________________

True to her word, at dawn of the following day, Mox gathered Selena, Velox and Davrim. Selena had the group join hands as she spoke an incantation which transformed them all into ephemeral, misty shapes, and then whisked them into the sky, traveling as fast as the wind. Instead of days to traverse the expanse of the Uplands, it took them only hours. They found Whiterose Abbey perched upon a lonely hill, but it looked as if it had not been inhabited for years. They didn’t investigate further, for if Selena ended the spell, she would not be able to cast it again for another day. Instead, she carried them on a circular journey across the lands of Pitax, scouting out Irovetti’s forces. Along the way they passed over the wreckage of what was once a small town, and was currently an aerie for almost one-hundred wyverns. In the southern Glenebon Hills, they spotted a small army of what appeared to be hill giants and enormous wooly mammoths. Still further south, they spied an enormous force of human warriors under the banner of the Tiger Lord barbarians. Finally, they reached the city of Pitax itself, only to find it well fortified with both regular army as well as two forces of trolls. They rejoined their own army by nightfall, and Mox informed the other commanders of what they’d seen.
“We’ll hold the forces here on the border for the next day or two,” she said. “Whiterose Abbey did indeed seem uninhabited, but it is my feeling that there is more there than meets the eye. We shall all journey there tomorrow.”


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## carborundum

Wow! This is getting properly epic now - thanks for the great write-up, JD. I could almost hear the drumbeats!


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## R-Hero

I loved the drunken joust.  Especialy the conversation between Windchaser and Velox.


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## JollyDoc

THE WHITEROSE MYSTERY

Rough stone markers with weathered inscriptions of names and years overlaying an engraved wine cup and rose marked the small cemetery as a place where the faithful lay in repose. The peace was broken a moment later by a brilliant flash of light as seven figures materialized out of thin air. 
“This be a waste o’time!” Tungdill grumbled. “We should be stompin’ those giants and their overgrown elephants! There ain’t nothin’ here!”
As if in rebuttal to his denial, the headstones, and even the tangles of buried bones beneath them, began to rise up in two, huge hummocks, as if the cemetery had come to life. In a matter of moments, two gigantic creatures made of rotting plant matter stood towering over the companions. One of them swung a massive, vine-covered arm at the druid, and when it struck him, the vines wrapped around and entangled him even as he was lifted from his feet by the force of the blow.
“You were saying!” Mox shouted as she fired a thin, green ray of energy at the behemoth, hoping to disintegrate it where it stood. Instead, only a small portion of the creature’s hide dissolved away, slowing it not at all.
Stevhan and Davrim drew their blades and leaped at the shambling mound of vegetation, hacking and chopping at it in a vain attempt to bring it down. Velox turned on the second one as it lumbered towards the group. He slashed at it as Mox stretched her jaw and spewed acid over it, dissolving a large patch of its midsection. The brute responded by smashing its arm into the oracle and sending him tumbling away. Tungdill’s scream of pain was cut off as his captor squeezed the breath from his lungs. Davrim leaped towards the shambler, spinning in a complete circle and lopping off the thing’s head with a broad sweep of his sword. Velox scrambled back to his feet and charged back in towards the remaining creature, dodging under its sweeping arms and ramming his blade deep into the rift that Mox’s acid had left. It groaned as it collapsed heavily to the ground like a fallen oak.
“Well,” Velox said as he struggled to catch his breath, “maybe this is a wild goose chase, but it would seem that at least someone doesn’t want us here.”
___________________________________________________________

“I won’t stand for it!” Davrim shouted. “I won’t have that…thing…anywhere near me! It’s…it’s unnatural!”
Tungdill shrugged noncommittally. “I don’t know ‘bout that, boy. Ya ask me, shamblers is pretty unnatural when they’re alive. Don’t see how a dead one is much different.”
“UN-dead!” Davrim snapped. “She animated a corpse and now we have an UN-dead shambling mound among us!”
“How dare you presume to tell me what I may and may not do!” Mox’s voice was like ice. “The last time I checked, queens did not answer to executioners!”
Davrim’s face turned beet red, and he turned to Velox for validation.
“Don’t look to me, brother,” the oracle said. “As we’ve discussed before, your goddess chose me, not I her. I adhere to no doctrine but my own, be it mortal or divine.”
Davrim fumed. “Just keep it out of my way!” He turned and stormed off.
Mox motioned to the massive, rotting pile of vegetation and it began lumbering towards the front of the abbey.
“Anyone else have anything to say?” she demanded, glaring at the others.  “No? Good! Let’s go then.”

Atop Whiterose Hill, at the end of an overgrown track, lay a weed-choked cobblestone plaza. To one side stood a vine-draped bell tower. Facing the plaza, the weathered doors of the abandoned abbey hung askew. 
“Look there,” Stevhan nodded. 
The plaza was clear of vegetation, and visible in the dirt before the abbey were numerous footprints.
“Recent,” Stevhan said.
As the companions drew near the bell tower, for just a moment, the pealing of chimes could be heard dimly in the distance. A moment later, there was silence again.
“Looks like your new friend won’t be able to come inside with us,” Davrim snorted.
It was obvious that the huge plant wouldn’t be able to fit through the doors of the abbey. Mox glared at the inquisitor.
“Wait here,” she commanded the zombie. “Lead the way,” she snapped at Davrim.

In the narthex, spiral stairways curved down on one side, and up on the other. The walls and ceiling were tiled in branching vine patterns, but beyond the entryway, corridors branched to either side, while a heavy curtain shrouded the sanctuary. Davrim moved forward and pushed aside the curtain. The long, colonnaded hall beyond was marked by rounded bays that ran along either side, each containing dusty old barrels. Piles of wood marked where kneeling benches had long since fallen to ruin. Above, wooden rafters formed a complex network of supports for the roof, while below, numerous bedrolls and alchemical supplies of obviously recent manufacture sat on the floor.
“The mother lode!” Davrim said smugly.
“Look out!” Stevhan shouted.
Several shadowy figures rose from behind the barrels on both sides of the room. As they stepped into the light, they were all clearly clad in the livery of Pitax wardens and heralds.
“Now!” a screechy voice shouted from somewhere within the rafters.

From within the darkness of the rafters a single arrow flew with pin-point accuracy and deadly precision. It struck Stevhan in the middle of his chest, and the ranger was sent reeling, staggered under the shocking impact of the shaft. A moment later, the heralds began to sing in a disturbing harmony, and as  their voices reached a crescendo, explosions of sound detonated throughout the chapel, buffeting Mox and Selena. Selena grabbed a barrel to steady herself and raised her head just as one of the wardens charged towards her, his greatsword raised. The witch forked her fingers at the man, and her eyes fixed upon him with a frightening intensity. In mid-stride, the big warrior collapsed to the floor, deeply asleep. Stevhan’s wolf charged past her to his master’s side. The big animal leaped over the ranger as he climbed to his feet and landed heavily upon one of the heralds, promptly ripping the throat from the screaming man. Stevhan shouted as he blocked the blade of an attacking warden just as it fell towards the wolf. He then parried and spun, disemboweling the soldier with a broad swipe.

Tungdill saw a group of wardens organizing for a coordinated charge. 
“Not so fast, fellas!” the druid sneered as snakes of fire sprang from his fingertips and raced across the floor of the chapel. The wardens screamed as the flames reached them and set their clothing ablaze. As they flailed about trying to extinguish themselves, the heralds struck again, assaulting the companions once more with their sonic bursts. Just then, out of the corner of his eye, Kane saw movement in the rafters.
“Mistress!  Above you!” he cried.
Mox looked up and saw a creature crouched on a beam above her head. He was humanoid in shape, but his head was that of a great, deformed rat. His body was covered in fur, and a long, bare tail protruded from beneath his clothing. He clutched a bow in his clawed hands, and as Mox watched, he drew back a black-fletched shaft aimed right at her. Mox threw out her hand and a green ray shot towards the rat-man. He threw himself to one side at the last instant, and the devastating beam only grazed him, but still dissolved a large patch of his flesh. Then he nimbly leaped over a bolt of lightning sent his way from Selena. When he landed, his hands were a blur of motion as he fired three arrows in rapid succession, and all of them struck Mox unerringly. The sorceress collapsed, blood gushing from her mouth, but she still found strength to raise her hands again, unleashing two simultaneous volleys of arcane bolts. The archer was hammered by the barrage, and he tumbled from the rafters to hit the floor with a sickening thud. He remained motionless, and before the eyes of the onlookers, he began to change, leaving a rather scroungy-looking man lying there with an obviously broken neck.

Just as the wardens had regained their composure from Tungdill’s assault, the druid struck them again with the fiery tendrils, and this time, caught the heralds as well.  All of the wardens fell beneath the conflagration, as did all of the heralds save one. That one, Stevhan dispatched with alacrity.
__________________________________________________________

After various wounds were tended, the companions searched among the belongings of the Pitaxians. The supplies certainly looked like the sort of things that poisoners would use, but there was no conclusive evidence to support the manufacturing of the kind of weapon Leaf’s sources had reported. So they set about exploring the rest of the ruined abbey. Much of it lay in shambles, with nothing of real interest or value beyond curiosity. In a library on the upper floor, however, among the many moldering books and scrolls that sat upon sagging wooden shelves, they discovered a small leather-bound journal in an old desk. It indicated that the abbey’s librarian had apparently had a growing worry about the gardener’s interest in unnatural topics, including a book that the librarian had obtained for him but did not give him. On the third story of the building, the companions came upon the abbot’s chambers, a room that held a desk engraved with the icon of a wine cup. A large and quite old bloodstain marred the floor at one side. No sooner had Mox set foot in the room, than she felt a sudden sharp pain in her neck. She reeled as she was momentarily certain that some unseen force had just cut her throat with an incredibly sharp blade.
“This is where it happened,” she whispered. Her hand involuntarily went to her throat, where there was now a thin, white scar. “This is where the gardener killed the abbot.”

The group made their way back downstairs, and then into the basement, where the kitchens and wine cellars lay. This was also where the priests’ cells were. As they poked around the dark and musty corners, Selena laid a spell across her eyes that allowed her to see things that might be hidden from normal vision. She hoped to find some clue that they might be overlooking. She found more than she bargained for. The long hallway of the priests’ quarters contained nearly two dozen narrow cells, each furnished with an equally narrow bed. Old bloodstains marred the walls and floors in many of the rooms. They had only just begun to explore the cells when Selena first saw the dim glow emerge from one of the furthest rooms. It was a small orb that radiated a sickly, yellow light, yet none of her companions seemed to notice it. It was joined a moment later by another, then another, and another, until eight hovered motionlessly in the hall, pulsing hungrily. It only took a moment for the witch to realize the mortal danger they were all in.
“Wisps!” she shouted, but she knew that her friends couldn’t see them.
“What??” Mox asked in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“There!” Selena screamed as she invoked a hex and glittering sparkles filled the air before them.
As the companions stared in horror, the wisps became limned by Selena’s dust. Their pulsations became angry and red as they began streaming down the hall, electricity crackling around them like living lightning. 

Tungdill had the misfortune of being near the front of the group, and so it was he that bore the brunt of the assault. Eight bolts of energy struck him, and the dwarf jittered and jerked as he momentarily lost control of his muscles. Mox quickly grabbed him from behind, and dragged him back. As she did so, she wove a spell about him to shield him from the effects of the electricity. It was just in time. The wisps struck again, but this time Tungdill shrugged them off. He raised his arms and flexed, his body shifting and flowing as he did so. He took the form of a large elemental comprised of living air, and he swirled about in a vortex before the mouth of the hall, bottlenecking the corridor, and protecting his companions from the wisps.
“Now, do the same for me!” Stevhan snarled.
Mox obliged, and the ranger stepped behind Tungdill, his sword bared.
“Now, Tungdill!” he shouted.
The druid resumed his normal form in the blink of an eye and quickly stepped back. Stevhan moved into the breach as the wisps swarmed ahead. His sword flashed as he cut through the first one like a hot knife through butter. The creature simply winked out of existence. The others railed against him, hurling bolts of lightning at him over and over, to no avail. In turn, he moved inexorably forward, hacking and slashing, destroying one wisp after another. The creatures realized they couldn’t harm him, and several tried to fly over and around him, but as they passed he cut one down, while Mox blasted the others out of the air with a barrage of arcane bolts. Within moments, the last of the wisps was gone.
__________________________________________________________

“This is getting us nowhere,” Mox said as the companions regrouped in the courtyard. “I think we should split up. We can cover more ground that way.”
“That’s never a wise decision,” Velox said.
“You can take the shambler with you, if it makes you feel safer,” the sorceress grinned maliciously. 

In the end, Davrim and Velox went to the south side of the hill to investigate the ruined guest house that sat there, while Mox took the others to the winery itself. As it turned out, there was really nothing left of the facility except for an empty shell, but nearby Stevhan discovered a tunnel, overgrown with hanging vines, that bored into the side of Whiterose Hill. Cautiously, he led the way inside. For the first hundred feet or so, the tunnel contained long side passages opposite narrow alcoves. They were dead ends that contained barrels of supplies, lumber and tools, or large barrels of wine long since soured. After the storage tunnels, the main passage continued on for another thousand feet or so. The tunnel ended at a large, vaulted cavern filled with a crescent-shaped pool of softly rippling, crystal-clear water. The northern arc of the pool cut across the end of the passage, separating the tunnel from an island covered with softly writhing green mold and pale fungus, although a rickety-looking wooden bridge spanned the fifteen-foot gap. On the island itself, numerous large wine casks lay around a large central pool of glowing blue water, while along the cave ceiling thirty feet above, what appeared to be a half-dozen pinpoints of light slowly wriggled and moved, almost as if forming and reforming strange constellations in a false night sky.

One by one, the group made their way across the bridge to the island. Though the glowing blue pool was beautiful to look upon, it seemed mundane. The large casks were all empty and hollow, but as Stevhan bent to examine one in particular, he found a latch on the side. When he triggered it, a small door swung open. He peered curiously inside and saw what appeared to be a small hideaway, perhaps sized for a gnome or a halfling. There was a small bed with dusty furs, and nearby, an incredibly beautiful and intricate water clock of colored glass, bronze, silver and darkwood. Stevhan was just about to call to his friends, when a low sound began to fill the cavern. It continued to build until, within a matter of moments, it had become a howl of raw anguish. A cold, blue mist bubbled from the cistern, and within it a shape took form. It was the size of a child, but as the companions looked more closely, they could see that it was actually a gnome. Yet it was not a spritely, carefree creature that hovered above the pool. It was a translucent apparition dressed in priest’s robes, whose face was contorted into a visage of purist hatred and malevolent evil. As the ghost manifested, the “stars” near the ceiling began to spin and spiral quickly, as if caught in some unseen vortex. Then they dispersed, and began floating down towards the island. They were wisps…but they were easily twice the size of the ones the companions had faced in the priests’ cells. 

Two of the wisps swept towards Selena, and before the witch could react, they both struck, zapping her with sizzling jolts of electricity. Mox saw the danger approaching, but she could not take her eyes from the horrid, dead eyes of the gardener. His gaze pierced her soul, and what she saw in turn caused her heart to quail and go cold. Before she could register what she was doing, the Queen of Kardashia turned and fled back up the tunnel as fast as she could go. The others could not believe what they were seeing, but then the gardener’s gaze swept over each of them in turn. As it touched them, one and all they felt fear take them, but none of them felt compelled to flee as Mox had. Instead, it was as if a piece of their soul was wrenched painfully from their bodies, and they knew that if they looked into the ghost’s eyes for too much longer, they would end up just as dead as he was. Tungdill broke free of the spell first, and the druid once more assumed the form of a towering air elemental. He quickly began whirling and swirling, forming himself into a small cyclone. He swept around the edge of the island, and caught two of the wisps up in his vortex, carrying them helplessly along in his wake. The gardener snarled in fury and raised his hands into the air. As he did so, a forest of rubbery, black tentacles erupted from the ground around the companions. An instant later, the ghost hurled a barrage of arcane bolts into Stevhan, knocking the ranger back into the clutches of the grasping tentacles.

Selena twisted and turned, struggling to avoid the writhing tendrils. For a brief moment, she got a glimpse of the ghostly gardener through the shifting mass, and in that second, she hurled one of her most powerful spells towards him. The enormous fireball detonated with a thunderous report, but the gardener moved with supernatural speed, and somersaulted nimbly beyond the edge of the blast. Selena groaned inwardly, but then her breath was driven from her as one of the tentacles wrapped around her chest and lifted her into the air. Dark spots swam in front of her eyes from lack of oxygen, but at the last instant, she spoke a single word, and vanished out of the tentacle forest in a bright flash of light.

Stevhan and Tungdill managed to evade the reaching grasp of the tentacles, and the gardener took note of that with a sadistic grin. He darted towards the ranger, and before Stevhan could raise his sword in defense, the undead gnome had seized his arm. Black fire flared up the ranger’s arm as the little gardener chuckled evilly, sucking Stevhan’s very life from him. With a cry of pain and rage, Stevhan brought his sword down on the ghost. It was an act of desperation, and he fully expected the blade to pass harmlessly through, yet as it struck, it flared with holy light, and the gardener screeched in pain and outrage. As he backed away, the enormous form of a charging wolf caught his attention, yet before the animal could reach him, one of the wisps darted in and delivered a stinging jolt of electricity. The wolf yelped and scuttled back, its tail tucked. Then, something else caught the gardener’s eye. Tungdill, still in his elemental form, had begun to cast a summoning. Baring his teeth, the gardener waggled his finger at the druid, and then lunged towards him. Before the dwarf knew what was happening, the ghost had reached into the cyclone of whirling air, and in that moment, Tungdill knew pain unlike he’d ever felt in his long life. The spell was totally driven from his mind. He whirled away, but as he did so, he erected behind him a towering wall of fire, trying to buy himself some time. The gardener stepped out of the flame wall, smoke rising from him, his face contorted in rage. Stevhan rushed to intercept him, slashing with his sword again. The wolf charged from the other side, but was again driven back by a pair of wisps. The gardener roared inarticulately and swatted Stevhan aside, before turning his attention back to Tungdill. Fast as he was in his cyclonic form, the ghost was faster, and before Tungdill could escape, he was wracked with agony again. He raised a second wall, and struggled to gather his wits before he met an untimely end.

It was then that Mox returned. The sorceress had fled almost back to the mouth of the tunnel before she had regained her senses. She had teleported back to the cavern in an instant, only to find chaos. Kane saw her first, from where he’d been standing on the wooden bridge. The magus had been torn with indecision. Did he help his mistress, or her friends? In the end, he’d been paralyzed by doubt, but when he saw Mox return, his resolve became steel. 
“My Lady!” he cried. “Defend yourself! This evil is not to be trifled with! I shall protect you!”
“No! Wait!” Mox cried, but it was no use.
Kane ran across the bridge, his rapier in one hand, and coruscating magic gathered in the other. He reached the wall of fire just as the gardener emerged again. The gnome’s dead eyes met his own, and it was only then that Kane realized his mistake. Horror and terror gripped him, and his sword fell numbly from his fingers as his spell dissolved in his hand. Then the gardener’s hand was around his throat, and all coherent thought left his mind. He knew only madness, and then darkness, and then oblivion. 

Stevhan rounded the far side of the fire wall just in time to see that lifeless husk that had been Kane fall to the floor. He heard Mox’s agonized wail of denial. The next sound he heard was a yowl of pain from his companion. He turned and saw the wolf fall beneath a pair of the wisps, its body rigid as electricity coursed through it. Stevhan added his own cry of loss to Mox’s, and he charged wantonly towards the gardener. The phantom side-stepped his reckless assault easily, and then passed his incorporeal palm through the ranger’s spine. Stevhan stiffened, and collapsed to the ground in a heap. The gardener sneered as he turned away, not noticing the faint glow from the ranger’s armor as it breathed a spark of life back into him.

The little gardener felt a moment of triumph. It was just as it had been when he slain his brothers. The pain and fear were delicious. He relished the thought of destroying the other mortals who had intruded upon his solitude. Then Tungdill struck. The druid unleashed a roaring column of holy fire that completely engulfed the spirit, staggering him under the assault. The gardener’s eyes grew wide with shock as he realized the damage that had been inflicted upon him. 
“Did you miss me, you little bastard?” Selena hissed from behind the ghost as she laid a hand upon his shoulder. “I’m back!”
The witch unleashed an inconceivable surge of electricity into the gardener, and in that moment, he simply ceased to exist. Before his consciousness fled completely, however, he took comfort in one thought:  the mortals would never guess the secret to permanently severing his link to the physical world. He would return. It would only be a matter of time.

Mox, still insensible with grief, snarled viciously as she systematically blasted each of the wisps out of the air one by one with her arcane bolts. The thought that kept running through her mind was of the unborn child that even now grew within her.
________________________________________________________

 Velox raised his bowed head and then rose to his feet and returned to his friends. His prayers to Iomedae had been answered, but they were not the answers he had hoped for. As he approached his companions, his face grew grim when he again saw the two figures lying so still upon the sand. When he and Davrim had come looking for the others after they had not shown at the rendezvous point, he couldn’t believe all that had transpired in the short time they’d been apart. Kane and Stevhan’s wolf both dead, and the ranger himself barely clinging to life. He’d been in shock at the carnage. Then there was Mox. She’d been all but unapproachable since his return. He’d never realized the depth of the bond she’d shared with her cohort and advisor, and that said something about his own relationship with the Queen. Perhaps he didn’t know her as well as he’d thought.

“I’m afraid I don’t have good news,” he announced as he drew near. “I have communed with the goddess, and she has told me that there never was a secret weapon being developed here.”
The others stared silently at him, varying degrees of disbelief and anger in their eyes.
“This was all an elaborate ruse set up to lure us here to be assassinated.”
“Pitax has much to answer for,” Stevhan said. His injuries had been tended, but his eyes were hollow, the loss of his companion still an open wound.
“No,” Mox said. “It is Irovetti who will answer for this.”
Her voice was so cold and empty, that it took Velox aback. 
“There is one more thing the Lady told me,” the oracle continued. “She said that the water spirit who mentored the monks still lives, and that it is imperative that we find her.”
“What exactly is a ‘water spirit’?” Davrim asked.
“A nereid,” Tungdill muttered. “They’re fey who can turn inta elementals.”
“They can turn into water?” Stevhan asked.
“Yup,” the druid said. “Big deal. So can I.”
Stevhan turned and leaned inside the small door he’d found in one of the casks. When he emerged, he held the elaborate water clock.
“I found this just before the ghost attacked,” he said. 
“You don’t think…?” Selena asked.
“There’s only one way to find out,” the ranger replied as he opened the clock’s drain.

The water did not pour out of the clock. Instead if flowed and shaped itself into a vaguely humanoid form, and then transformed into a breathtakingly beautiful nude woman with pale skin, pointed ears, dark hair, deep blue eyes, and webbed fingers and toes. As soon as she saw the companions, her saviors, tears formed in her soulful eyes.
“Ah, you have rescued me!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “You have my eternal gratitude…but wait!” Her eyes grew fearful, and she glanced around nervously. “Where is he? You must beware of the gardener!”
“Gone,” Mox said. “Destroyed.”
“You killed him?” the nereid asked in disbelief.
“Destroyed him,” Mox corrected. “He was already dead when we found him, but apparently his spirit lived on.”
“I…I don’t understand…,” the nereid said.
“Why don’t you tell us what you remember?” Selena asked gently.
The nereid nodded. “Forgive me. My name is Evindra. I have been in this place for untold years, performing my duty as it was given me. For much of this time I was alone…until the monks came. I was delighted for their company, and they, in turn, were grateful for the secrets I showed them for enhancing their vintages. For a time, things were pleasant here…until he came. The gardener…filthy creature that he was! He coveted me for himself, and when I rebuffed his crude advances, he stole from me my shawl. It is precious to me…it contains a part of my soul. He forced me into my elemental form and imprisoned me inside the clock to keep me for himself. I know not how long ago that was, but the evil little man was very much alive at the time.”
“He murdered the other monks,” Selena said, and tears filled Evindra’s eyes once more.
“Did…did you find a shawl among his belongings?” she asked.
“No,” Selena replied.
“What of a sword?” the nereid queried. “A beautifully wrought blade?”
Selena, puzzled, shook her head again.
“Alas!” Evindra cried. “Then I have failed in my duty! The sword was mine to guard, and now it has been stolen, doubtless by whomever laid the gardener low.”
“What duty?” Mox asked in irritation. “What was this sword? Who gave you this responsibility?”
Evindra’s eyes narrowed shrewdly.
“Perhaps I will tell you the sword’s tale, and mine as well, but first, though I owe you a debt of gratitude, I would ask a service of you.”
“You’re treading on very thin ice,” Mox said dangerously.
“Please!” Evindra begged. “I must have my shawl returned to me! I shall perish without it! Perhaps those who took the sword also have my shawl. If you can find it and return it to me, I shall tell you all that I know. I swear it!”
“Maybe it was the Pitaxians,” Velox offered. “It seems they knew of the ghost’s existence, else they wouldn’t have lured us here specifically.”
Mox turned to Evindra.
“We are going to Pitax,” she said, “and there we shall kill a king. If we find this sword or shawl of yours, we shall bring it back to you, but those are not our priorities. Revenge is.”


----------



## SolitonMan

JollyDoc said:


> Mox turned to Evindra.
> “We are going to Pitax,” she said, “and there we shall kill a king. If we find this sword or shawl of yours, we shall bring it back to you, but those are not our priorities. Revenge is.”




I just love Mox!


----------



## Schmoe

Wow, that last chapter was pretty awesome.  A ghostly garden gnome 

Now I'm all caught up and jonesing for more.


----------



## JollyDoc

Schmoe said:


> Wow, that last chapter was pretty awesome.  A ghostly garden gnome
> 
> Now I'm all caught up and jonesing for more.




Then your wish shall soon be answered! The invasion of Pitax posting will begin later this week!


----------



## JollyDoc

THE MARCH ON PITAX

Within hours of rejoining their armies, the companions had the troops on the move. By late afternoon, they had penetrated two-dozen miles into Pitax’s lands, and as they crossed a low ridge on the grasslands, they met their first resistance. Mustered on the plain below them was an army comprised of dozens of hill giants mounted on enormous mastodons. These were the Tusker Riders, a hill giant tribe led by a slope-browed cretin named Kob Moleg. The big brutes were intimidating, especially when they hurled a barrage of boulders into the midst of Tungdill’s troops, and then began a trumpeting charge upon their fearsome mounts. Unfortunately for them, their assault was cut short when Tungdill himself whipped up a localized hurricane around them, and then Velox blocked their path with yards and yards of fire walls. From there, it was easy for the archers of all of the allied forces to rain death down upon the giants. Tungdill’s losses were minimal, but for Kob Moleg’s troops, it was utter devastation.

The following day, the armies reached the village of Littletown, which rested under the eaves of the forest of Thousand Voices. The town lay in ruins and devastation, with the half-eaten bodies of its denizens scattered about like so much discarded carrion. A flight of wyverns, equal in size to the flock that had attacked Veritas, roosted among the wreckage, but when they saw the armies approaching, they took wing and swarmed towards the allies. Their attack never fell as they were cut from the sky by a flight of arrows that momentarily blotted out the sun. The dragons dropped to the ground in droves, with only a very few wheeling about and disappearing into the shadows of the forest.
________________________________________________________

“We’ve wasted enough time marching around the countryside,” Mox announced that evening. “Tomorrow morning, we’re heading for Pitax City.”
“You are well aware of what our scouting reports revealed about their defenses,” Velox reminded her. “Irovetti’s forces outnumber us, and they’re barricaded inside a walled city.”
“Then we’ll tear the walls down around them!” the Queen shouted. “Irovetti is going to pay for every affront, and if I have to level his entire city for that to occur, then so be it!”
At dawn, the armies set out once more.

The city of Pitax sat on the shore of the Rushlight River, its towers and turrets rising above high walls. The farm holds and thorps surrounding the city had all been hastily abandoned, as the inhabitants had all crowded inside the walls. As Kardashia’s armies approached, Pitax’s defenders prepared for a long siege. They were in for a disappointment. The Pitax regiment unleashed a storm of arrows upon the advancing invaders, but sudden storms conjured by Selena and Tungdill blew most of them out of the sky. The centaurs and Kardashian soldiers returned fire, to devastating effect. Scores of soldiers fell from the walls, and the city gates swung wide. Hundreds of troll warriors swarmed forth, and charged headlong towards the Kardashians. Half of them were cut down by withering arrow fire before they had covered half the distance, but then the remainder of the marauders closed in, and the battle was joined in earnest. Behind the trolls, Pitax soldiers swarmed, and the chaos and fog of war washed over the combatants. The fighting was ferocious and pitched, but in the end, the leadership of the Kardashian commanders, coupled with the devastating magic of their queen, and magister, turned the tide and sealed victory for the invaders.  
___________________________________________________________

That same afternoon saw Mox and her entourage marching through the streets of Pitax City. The populace gathered along the main thoroughfare of the New Ruins section of the city as if they were watching a parade. As they passed into the Shattered Ward, headed for the palace, they were met by a retinue of the city’s nobles, the so-called Bandit Houses. They carried a flag of truce. A rather young-looking man stepped forward.
“Your Majesty,” he began, “I am Gasperre Liacenza.”
“You don’t presume to speak for us, Liacenza,” a raven-haired woman snapped. “After all, it was your uncles that gave this city to that blackguard Irovetti in the first place!”
“Now, now, Eliste,” an older gentleman chided. “It’s not polite to air dirty laundry in front of guests.”
“I’m not your guest,” Mox said impatiently. “I am now your Queen.”
“Ah,” the man said. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Jhofre’ Vascari of the Riversong Trade House.”
“I don’t really care who any of you people are,” Mox said, “nor what position you think you hold in my city. Your collective fates are now in my hands, and you would all do well to remember that. I haven’t yet decided whether to have you summarily executed. After I’ve dealt with your former king, and my thirst for blood has been slaked, then I shall return and we shall resume this conversation. Until then, consider yourselves under arrest.”
Mox turned away, and her companions followed. As the nobles protested loudly when they were rounded up and herded away, the Queen turned her cold eyes towards the palace on the hill.


----------



## carborundum

Whoa.


----------



## SolitonMan

JollyDoc said:


> “I don’t really care who any of you people are,” Mox said, “nor what position you think you hold in my city. Your collective fates are now in my hands, and you would all do well to remember that. I haven’t yet decided whether to have you summarily executed. After I’ve dealt with your former king, and my thirst for blood has been slaked, then I shall return and we shall resume this conversation. Until then, consider yourselves under arrest.”
> Mox turned away, and her companions followed. As the nobles protested loudly when they were rounded up and herded away, the Queen turned her cold eyes towards the palace on the hill.




Have I mentioned that I love Mox?


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## carborundum

Totally off-topic but I just wanted to tell you guys I have a daughter!
She was born on Wednesday (Game night!) and is a total star 

Check her out at misterjeff | Daar zijn we dan!


----------



## JollyDoc

carborundum said:


> Totally off-topic but I just wanted to tell you guys I have a daughter!
> She was born on Wednesday (Game night!) and is a total star
> 
> Check her out at misterjeff | Daar zijn we dan!




Congrats, man! She's beautiful! I'm a pediatrician, btw, so I freely offer my advice!


----------



## Joachim

carborundum said:


> Totally off-topic but I just wanted to tell you guys I have a daughter!
> She was born on Wednesday (Game night!) and is a total star
> 
> Check her out at misterjeff | Daar zijn we dan!




Very nice!  I hope you guys are getting some sleep at night!


----------



## carborundum

It went a bit pear shaped for a while - Sanne's epidural site was leaking cerebrospinal fluid - but we're all home now and everything's great! I'll be sure to get in touch if I have any questions - thanks JD!


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## Joachim

carborundum said:


> Sanne's epidural site was leaking cerebrospinal fluid




Ugh.  Now that sounds pleasant, and not worrisome at ALL.


----------



## Newt

Several notes.

JollyDoc is a great spinner of tales.

Mox is evil and needs to die.

And repeat the first, generally don't comment, just read. But this time I seem to have started reading before it's finished, now I have to wait. -.-


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## Schmoe

Newt said:


> Several notes.
> 
> JollyDoc is a great spinner of tales.
> 
> Mox is evil and needs to die.
> 
> And repeat the first, generally don't comment, just read. But this time I seem to have started reading before it's finished, now I have to wait. -.-




One thing I've noticed about JD's stories is that the players can be fairly ruthless.  In fact, there have been some times where it's hard to tell the difference between the good guys and the bad guys.  Overall, it seems that the most vocal protagonists of the stories tend to be neutral.


----------



## JollyDoc

Newt said:


> Several notes.
> 
> JollyDoc is a great spinner of tales.
> 
> Mox is evil and needs to die.
> 
> And repeat the first, generally don't comment, just read. But this time I seem to have started reading before it's finished, now I have to wait. -.-




Mox is fast becoming an epic schemer on par with the likes of Entropy and Mandi. What is it about powerful, semi-evil female characters and my all MALE players? Unresolved mommy issues??


----------



## Newt

JollyDoc said:


> Mox is fast becoming an epic schemer on par with the likes of Entropy and Mandi. What is it about powerful, semi-evil female characters and my all MALE players? Unresolved mommy issues??




Scheming is fine, it's the coldness. The story shows them going from strangers, to friends, to.. Now they're her subjects and she's the psychotic queen.  Very violent, sadistic and cold. lol. Kinda fun watching her turn into something worse than the bad guys she fights.

Kill first, ask questions.. Eh, don't need to ask questions, the queen is always right.  Funny, but Leaf should kill her to save the kingdom before there's an uprising. <> There should really be an uprising. 

All male players though?

Heh. That's even more funny


----------



## Joachim

JollyDoc said:


> Mox is fast becoming an epic schemer on par with the likes of Entropy and Mandi. What is it about powerful, semi-evil female characters and my all MALE players? Unresolved mommy issues??




Mandi wasn't a schemer...she told you what she was going to do, and then she did it.  Woe be to those that got in her way.  Entropy, OTOH...


----------



## Joachim

Newt said:


> Kill first, ask questions.. Eh, don't need to ask questions, the queen is always right.




Well...let's just say that's not how it goes down at the table.  There is some artistic license that is being taken in the retelling, to be sure.


----------



## Newt

Joachim said:


> Well...let's just say that's not how it goes down at the table.  There is some artistic license that is being taken in the retelling, to be sure.




So you didn't go into the castle ballroom and kill everyone straight up? 

Keeping people alive means you can torture them later. Or bribe them, annoying when that works better than the torture. You can't have tortured them though, that would have made the page. Or a charm spell.. Damn wizards, taking all the work from the normal classes.


----------



## carborundum

OFF_TOPIC 



Joachim said:


> Ugh.  Now that sounds pleasant, and not worrisome at ALL.




The anaesthetist seemed rather blasé about it. It certainly was worrisome when she had been 'fixed' with a "blood patch" and had been lying still for six hours wondering if everything was okay - I mean - it's your spine, dude!

On trying to sit up, her blood pressure dropped to 80/42 and she practically passed out. THAT was scary time, but three stressful hours later she was feeling much better and seems to have made a full recovery. 

Thanks for the concern 

BACK TO MOX'S PRACTICAL APPROACH


----------



## Joachim

carborundum said:


> OFF_TOPIC
> 
> 
> 
> The anaesthetist seemed rather blasé about it. It certainly was worrisome when she had been 'fixed' with a "blood patch" and had been lying still for six hours wondering if everything was okay - I mean - it's your spine, dude!
> 
> On trying to sit up, her blood pressure dropped to 80/42 and she practically passed out. THAT was scary time, but three stressful hours later she was feeling much better and seems to have made a full recovery.
> 
> Thanks for the concern
> 
> BACK TO MOX'S PRACTICAL APPROACH




The wife and I have been through childbirth once (her second), and the more i hear from other folks the more I have to marvel at how smoothly things went.  I'm glad to hear everything worked out and everyone's doing well.  It should also be proof that God/Allah/Yahweh has a sense of humor when he allows gamers to procreate.

/end of real life...on to the killin's


----------



## Supar

Newt said:


> So you didn't go into the castle ballroom and kill everyone straight up?



hmmmmmm maaaaaaaayyyyybeeeeee???? 

We have learned hard lessons that prisoners are never worth the trouble.


----------



## Joachim

Newt said:


> So you didn't go into the castle ballroom and kill everyone straight up?




We didn't kill _everyone_...just the ones that were begging for it.


----------



## carborundum

Joachim said:


> We didn't kill _everyone_...just the ones that were begging for it.




And the ones that would have been begging for it if they had the chance?


----------



## Joachim

carborundum said:


> And the ones that would have been begging for it if they had the chance?




Hey...we let the servants live!


----------



## Newt

Joachim said:


> Hey...we let the servants live!




You mean the ones who didn't get caught in AoE spells?  


Unless they're all Genasi, Tieflings and Janni.. That would be useful since they'd be resistant to fire which seems to be the most common energy type used, but bad since they'd be willing to take you on, possibly even able.

Point is, negative energy would work better if whole sale destruction is your thing. Modify a fireball to use negative energy, everything dies.


----------



## javcs

Newt said:


> You mean the ones who didn't get caught in AoE spells?
> 
> 
> Unless they're all Genasi, Tieflings and Janni.. That would be useful since they'd be resistant to fire which seems to be the most common energy type used, but bad since they'd be willing to take you on, possibly even able.
> 
> Point is, negative energy would work better if whole sale destruction is your thing. Modify a fireball to use negative energy, everything dies.




'Cept for the undead. Or Shadow Dragons(aggravating buggers).

Nah, see, for wholesale destruction, fire usually works just fine - it has that side effect of lighting things on fire, y'know? This can occasionally have unwanted side effects, however.
For just killing _everything_ ... force damage is second only to untyped. Much superior to negative energy damage - far fewer things are resistant or outright immune to force damage than anything else. Although, for those things not resistant or immune to negative energy, I believe that there are/were some feats that let you mix in or tack on negative levels and/or ability drain.


----------



## Supar

uhhh I can i just use this +3 holy baned falchion with power attack righteous might divine favor Inquisitor judgements weapon of awe heroism and 3 other buffs that cant be recalled atm


----------



## Newt

javcs said:


> force damage is second only to untyped.




Really, the only thing I saw was "untyped". And is there untyped damage? While I like negative levels (although setting someone on fire is kinda fun), I like untyped even more. Yea, was thinking about those feats, what's the point of negative energy without negative levels? Remove enough levels from anyone and you've got yourself a kill. 

For Undead of course you have to use Positive Energy Levels. Since undead/shadow creatures/etc are generally immune to negative, they have a weakness to positive. Negative levels all round.  Sure there's some way to be good at both. And I may be getting off topic.. Sooo... Positive Energy is something even Kyuss isn't immune to so you technically could deduct levels from him, in that brilliant story hour by JD, kinda like the one we're in now only instead of having a flimsy drow this one has an evil queen. And back on topic


----------



## WarEagleMage

Just to set the record straight, Mox typically uses an acid fireball in combat (elemental spell, from the Pathfinder APG).

Just a tease for you Mox lovers and haters out there:  if you think you understand this character, you just might be in for a shock over the next few updates.  Character interactions are getting more and more, ahem...interesting.

And lastly, since we are always peeking ahead to our next PC and our next campaign.  The prospect of channeling negative energy might just be an option.  Interesting rumblings are already floating around the table.


----------



## Joachim

Supar said:


> uhhh I can i just use this +3 holy baned falchion with power attack righteous might divine favor Inquisitor judgements weapon of awe heroism and 3 other buffs that cant be recalled atm




Ah, behold the power of braggadocio.


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## JollyDoc

KINGS AND QUEENS

The House of a Hundred Doors, as Irovetti’s palace was known, was a sprawling, single-story structure that sat atop a hill in the Shattered Ward. Its roofline was a crazy tangle of slopes, domes and pitches, and its walls were made of thick, iron-reinforced stone. The main drive wound to a pair of massive front doors, but Mox led her companions up a service road to a pair of iron portals on the far side of the castle. At the vanguard of the party was the animated corpse of the shambler. At Mox’s command, it threw open the doors, revealing a wide passage, the walls of which were angled inward, with arrow slits on either side. A heavy portcullis blocked the corridor some twenty feet in, and a second one was lowered another twenty feet beyond that. 

‘Irovetti,’ Velox sent his thoughts silently into the depths of the keep. ‘If you can hear me, I must warn you that my Queen is coming for you, and only your death will satisfy. Surrender now if you have any hope of mercy.’
The reply was terse, and to the point, ‘Only one sovereign shall die this day, and it will not be the Lord of Pitax!’

Mox nodded, and the shambler lumbered down the hallway. When it reached the first portcullis, it wrapped its hands and tentacles through the bars and began to pull. Suddenly, sound and fury erupted from the arrow slits on both sides as a barrage of sonic blasts battered the walking corpse. 
“Damn it!” Mox cursed. “Get out of there, you worthless midden heap! Selena, come with me!”
The Queen rose into the air and to the rooftop, the witch right behind her. As the shambler backed clumsily out of the hallway, a second round of blasts struck it, blowing great chunks of its rotten hide from its body. When Mox reached the roof, she wove a spell and instantly melted a large hole through the stone, revealing the narrow passage behind one side of the murder holes below. Six Pitax heralds gaped up at her in surprise, but they quickly gathered their wits about them and, using their voices to channel their magic, hurled bursts of pure sound at the two sorceresses. At the same time, Selena hexed the nearest of the heralds, putting him instantly to sleep, but in that moment, the sonic blast struck her, and sent her reeling.

As Selena tumbled from the roof, and the Shambler came staggering out of the corridor, Davrim made his move. He darted into the hall and made a dash for the portcullis, but before he could make it half-way, another bombardment of sound and fury assaulted him, forcing him to retreat before he lost consciousness. 
“Bah!” Tungdill roared. “This is embarrassin’! Lemme show ya how it’s done!”
The druid began chanting, switching a sprig of mistletoe around him. Twin orbs of light formed inside the corridor, one on each side of the far portcullis. In seconds, the orbs coalesced into a pair of two-headed giants…ettins! One of them seized the near portcullis and began working at lifting the massive gate. The other threw open a pair of doors at the far end of the hall, past the second gate. Standing immediately on the other side was a massive troll dressed in full plate armor and carrying massive battleaxes in each hand. Behind the troll stood a second one, just as big and twice as ugly. Arrayed behind that one was a phalanx of six wardens led by another herald. The ettin’s twin heads let loose thunderous roars of challenge at the troll, and the troll answered, roaring into the ettin’s faces, their noses inches from one another. 

Davrim used the momentary distraction to rush under the first portcullis and onto the second one. This time, as his gauntleted hand touched the iron bars, it flared brightly, and the metal rusted instantaneously in his grasp, leaving a large hole behind. Stevhan moved up behind him and fired a volley of precisely aimed arrows, past both ettins, past both trolls, and impaled one of the wardens, dropping him in his tracks. Selena, still shaky from her fall and her ears still ringing from the sonic assault, moved into the corridor behind the two warriors. She wove her hands in an intricate pattern, and a bolt of lightning arced from her fingers into the troll standing in the doorway. The bolt then arced to the next troll, then to the herald, and then to each of the wardens in turn. 

Velox joined Mox on the rooftop, lifting himself into the air on a divine wind. He moved past the sorceress and dropped through the hole she’d made, landing inside the narrow hallway below. The nearest of the heralds went for the rapier at his belt, but the oracle dropped him with a vicious slash of his blade. He then turned to face the remaining four, a wicked gleam in his eye.

Back outside, Tungdill cast another summoning, this time calling a pair of cyclopes to his side.
“Wait here just a sec, boys,” he commanded. “It ain’t gonna be safe in there for a few minutes.”
The druid began another spell, and in the room at the far end of the hall, a strong wind began to blow. Within seconds, it had whipped into a superheated vortex…a sirocco. The strength of the wind was such that it knocked one of the trolls prone, and threw the wardens around like stick men. The herald was flung into a wall so hard that his neck snapped. The wardens struggled to their feet and ran from the room through a door on the far side. Incredibly, the troll climbed back to his feet, his brother at his side. The pair of them then brought their axes to bear against the ettin blocking the main door, cutting the giant down with a series of vicious chops. It vanished into thin air before it hit the floor.  The first troll then stepped into the hallway, only to run up against Davrim. The inquisitor raised his sword in both hands over his head and brought it down in a vicious chop.  As the giant staggered back a step, Davrim struck again, pressing his attack, but then the second troll began pushing forward…until a crack shot from Stevhan’s bow pierced its eye and sent it howling back into the sirocco. A moment later, Tungdill forced the first one back in as well with a giant fist conjured out of pure water. 

Velox continued to battle through the heralds, felling another one beneath his blade. Mox dropped into the hole behind him and fixed her gaze upon one of the retreating heralds.
“Your mind now belongs to me!” she commanded.
The wide-eyed man nodded, slack-jawed.
“Spare this one, Velox,” Mox said. “Tell me your name, herald!”
“Harold, my Lady,” the man said.
“Harold…the herald??” Mox asked, quirking one eyebrow.
“Yes ma’am!” he nodded.
“Whatever,” Mox shook her head. “Take me to the throne room. I would speak with your king.”
“Yes ma’am,” Harold said. “Just follow me!”

Tungdill’s remaining ettin pushed its way through the hole Davrim had created in the portcullis and into the far room. As it did, however, one of the trolls stepped up and tagged him with a blow from its axe, sending one of the ettin’s clubs spinning away. Davrim and Stevhan tried to drive the troll back further with arrows, but the brute refused to budge, cyclonic whirlwind or not. In the mean time, the wardens on the far side of the storm brought their own bows to bear, leveling shots at the ettin. Tungdill was forced to dispel the sirocco so that his friends could push forward. The ettin took advantage, and charged in…straight into the whirling blades of the trolls. The pair cut the giant to ribbons in a matter of seconds, and it vanished like its brother before.

Mox gestured almost absently, and a yawning pit opened beneath the feet of the remaining heralds in the side passage. They fell screaming one-hundred feet, into a pool of caustic acid below.
“You may lead on,” she instructed Harold.
Harold led her and Velox through a series of narrow corridors until they emerged in a wide, long corridor. From one end, they could hear the sounds of the battle still ranging from the service hall. At the other end, three more heralds stood nervously before a pair of massive doors. 
“Deal with them,” Mox sighed.
Velox nodded and charged forward.

Selena cleared the path for Stevhan and Davrim by hurling a fireball into the chamber beyond them. One of the troll warriors went down in a mass of flame, as did one of the wardens. The ranger and the inquisitor charged in and engaged the remaining wardens, cutting them down with vicious strikes of their blades. As the last troll rolled on the floor trying to extinguish itself, Selena moved into the chamber and sent a blast of flames from her fingertips at it. It screamed as it slowly burned to death. 

The companions paused for a moment to catch their breath. Then, as they peered through a pair of doors down a side corridor, incredibly, they saw Velox and Mox, escorted by a herald, throw open the portals to what appeared to be the palace’s throne room…
_____________________________________________________________

A regal throne carved of burgundy stone sat atop a broad dais of red-veined, white marble in the grand hall. A large circular stage stood beneath a high dome to one side, and on the other lay a banquet area set with a massive oaken table. The far wall beyond the throne featured several towering stained-glass windows that depicted King Irovetti in various regal and heroic poses. The high-vaulted hall was flanked on either side by a long colonnade which supported an ornately carved balcony. Spiral, curving staircases spanned from balcony to floor at irregular intervals around the room. 

Irovetti himself sat upon the throne, and he was surrounded by a small army. On the balconies, six heralds crouched with bows in hand, while six wardens stood arrayed around the base of the dais. In addition, four more of the hulking, armored trolls hunched before the dais. Flanking Irovetti on his left was none other than Villamor Koth, the Pitax champion from the Rushlight Tournament. On the king’s right-hand side stood a massive, blue-skinned giant, with yellow, tusk-like teeth protruding from his full lower lip. He wore a blood-red breast plate, and bore an enormous great sword across his back. This was General Avinash Jurrg, commander of the armies of Pitax. As Mox strode into the throne room behind Velox, Irovetti rose to his feet.
“So you have come for me at last, have you?” he asked, his voice dripping with disdain. “I knew you would. Very well. No more games. No more tricks. No more decoys. Skill against skill, strength against strength, and we shall see who deserves to rule, and who deserves to die.”
“Oh that we will,” Mox replied, her voice as hollow as the grave. “Of that you may rest assured in the short time that is left you.”

  Velox stepped into the room in front of Mox, his eyes glazing over as Iomedae’s power took him. White light crackled around him as he grew to twice his normal height, righteous wrath infusing him. Selena rushed down the hallway to join the pair, quickly putting one of the oncoming wardens to sleep.  Further down the corridor, Stevhan and Davrim rushed to reach the throne room. Tungdill trailed behind them, now in his air elemental form, his pair of summoned cyclopes by his side. None of them saw the six heralds pour out of the second side corridor that flanked the gated entry hall. No one until they opened fire on the cyclopes.
“Ah, c’mon!” Tungdill snapped as several arrows passed harmlessly through him. “This again? Take care of’em, boys!”
The cyclopes grunted and turned back down the hall, swinging their clubs as they went.

As Velox lumbered further into the throne room, batting another warden’s weapon from his hands as he went, Selena prepared another hex. Before she knew what was happening, however, a blur of motion rushed at her from beneath the shadows of a nearby balcony. At first glance, she took it for some sort of wild animal…a tiger, perhaps. But it came at her on two legs, and tatters of clothing clung to its lithe, feline form. The next thing Selena knew was blinding pain. The tiger-creature sank its inch-long fangs into her shoulder, and blood spurted in a geyser. Simultaneously, the curse of retribution she always wove about herself each day discharged, sending an explosive jolt of electricity through her assailant. The tiger-thing yowled, and fell back hissing and spitting. Mox, standing a little too close for comfort, witnessed the entire incident. Her eyes narrowed for a moment, debating, and then she quickly spun a spell of invisibility about her, vanishing from sight.

Velox heard the commotion behind him, but he was consumed by battle fury. He rushed towards the dais, his focus intent on Irovetti, but it was General Jurrg who met his charge. The oracle put his hand out, black energy blazing around it. He thrust his palm against Jurrg’s chest, fully expecting the life to be all but drained out of the big oni. Instead, the general gave a mild grimace, then spun his massive sword around in a graceful arc before whipping it across Velox’s belly. For a moment, Velox’s eyes cleared as overwhelming pain pierced his battle trance. He looked down and saw blood gathering in a rapidly deepening pool on the floor beneath him, and then he saw his own entrails spilling out of the gash in his abdomen. His face grew ashen, and he stumbled away.

Davrim paused at the entrance to the throne room, his glance flickering between Selena and Velox. The inquisitor felt rage building inside him, and he focused Iomedae’s power upon that anger. He began to grow, equaling the trolls in size within seconds. His transformation was completed just as two of the trolls closed to him, axes swinging. Davrim barely had time to raise his sword in defense, managing to deflect the worst of the blows, but still suffering two vicious gashes. He saw two wardens moving towards his flank, and he spun quickly, driving them back with sweeping swings from his blade. He then turned back just as one of the trolls charged. Davrim crouched low, and then thrust his sword up through the giant’s chin and out the top of his head. The troll collapsed to the floor with a crash.

Selena used the momentary distraction to reach in a pouch at her belt and grab a handful of dust, which she quickly flung over herself. As it settled, she vanished from sight. In a flash, Stevhan rushed towards the weretiger who was still looking around for her prey in bewilderment. The ranger’s sword struck lightning-quick, piercing deep into the lycanthrope’s flesh. She yowled in pain, then twisted a ring on one of her clawed fingers and promptly disappeared like Selena had. 

Irovetti was greatly enjoying the show. The Kardashian fools had done precisely as he had expected…charged blindly into an unknown situation, heedless of what awaited them. And now here they were, fallen neatly into his trap. He began the words to a spell. Crushing the will of the ranger would amuse him to no end, and turning him upon his companions would be the icing on the cake.
“Not so fast, usurper!” he heard Mox’s voice shout, though he could not see her anywhere.
A moment later, a barrage of arcane bolts struck him, blowing the spell from his mind, and knocking off his throne. Suddenly, a light flared around him, and he was simply gone.
“Curse the gods!!!” Mox roared as she realized what had happened. Irovetti had teleported away. He had escaped.

Tungdill grinned as his cyclopes drove the heralds before them. His smile faded a moment later, however, as he saw another pair of guard trolls move into the hallway from the other end. He quickly began casting another spell, and a massive tiger erupted out of thin air and charged the giants. It barreled into one like a hawk on a rabbit, claws and teeth flashing. The creature lasted all of six seconds before the trolls hacked it to pieces. Still, the distraction was long enough for Tungdill to complete another spell. This time it was centipedes that he summoned…hundreds and hundreds of six-inch long centipedes. A veritable creeping doom. The heralds began to scream as the insects swarmed over them, and the trolls beat at the horde in futility with their axes.

With his last remaining strength, Velox placed his hands over his destroyed abdomen and channeled what power was left to him into his own body. The pain was excruciating, intense but brief. When it faded, he looked down and breathed a relieved sigh when he saw that the wound had closed completely. 

General Jurrg had already written the oracle off. He flew across the throne room to land directly in front of Davrim. Before the inquisitor could react, the huge oni blasted him, and the entire hallway behind him, including the cyclopes, the still-invisible Selena, and Harold the herald, with a conical blast of ice and frigid air. The pathetic Kardashians were bowled away from Jurrg, but then he caught a glimpse of movement coming from his flank. He turned as Stevhan rushed towards him, and with a flick of his sword, he sent the ranger’s own blade spinning away across the floor. As Stevhan darted after it, cursing all the way, one of the guard trolls slashed him savagely across the thigh with its axe. 

Selena grunted in pain as she hoisted herself to her feet out of the ice. For a brief moment, the sleet limned her invisible form. It was enough. From out of nowhere, the weretiger was upon her once more. It struck her viciously across the face once, twice with its claws, sending her crashing back to the floor. The weretiger pounced. Selena got one hand up as it landed on her, and as her palm touched its fur, a blast of electricity surged out of her, setting every hair of the lycanthrope’s body on end. It collapsed on the floor beside her, a charred, smoking heap.

Stevhan grabbed his sword just as the troll charged him. He quickly side-stepped and slashed across the brute’s flank twice as it passed him. He braced himself for its next assault, and it was then that he saw Villamor Koth coming at him. The barbarian hacked down with a barbed greataxe, and as it opened up a long gash in Stevhan’s sword arm, a smaller wound appeared on Koth himself, and he roared in sadistic ecstasy at the pain. He raised his axe again, but before he could strike, a thin beam of green light touched his arm and dissolved the flesh down to the bone. 
“You should stick to jousting,” Mox sneered.
“And you won’t be needing this!” Velox said as he came up behind Koth and swatted the axe from his remaining hand.
Koth turned towards the oracle, shock and pain still etched on his face, his eyes wide…until Velox plunged his sword through one of them.
“As for you…,” Mox turned towards Jurrg.
“What, little mage?” the oni chuckled. “What will you do with me?”
He advanced menacingly towards her, the tip of his sword whicking back and forth.
“Such strength,” Mox purred. “Such power. Too bad all of it comes to naught if you lack something as simple as the air you breath.”
The queen pinched her thumb and forefinger together, and just like that, Jurrg stopped in his tracks, his eyes suddenly bulging. His sword fell from his hands as he grabbed at his throat. His face turned an even deeper shade of purple as he dropped to his knees, and finally fell face-first to the floor.

With the Pitaxian leaders either fled or killed, the battle became one of attrition. Though the companions were outnumbered by wardens, heralds and trolls, it was never really about numbers. Certainly, Tungdill’s cyclopes and the late arrival of Mox’s zombified shambler did help offset the odds, but the outcome was never really in question. Tungdill’s centipede swarms made quick work of the heralds and trolls moving in from the flank, while Mox and the others methodically thinned the ranks of the troops still massed in the throne room itself. Finally, the last defender fell, and the companions took a moment to catch their breath and tend their wounds. Then Mox turned to Harold the herald.
“So, my friend,” the Queen asked smiling, “where might we find the King so that I can have a word with him in private?”
“I’m sorry, my Lady,” Harold bowed, “but I’m not privy to where His Majesty keeps his private quarters.”
Mox glowered for a moment, her brow deeply furrowed.
“Well then,” she sighed, “I guess we’ll just tear this place apart room by room until we flush the rat out of his hole.”
___________________________________________________________

Mox and her companions, led by Harold the herald, and trailed by an undead shambling mound, began working their way through the maze-like palace. Along the way, they ran afoul of four more squads of wardens, each led by a herald. Each squad was swiftly annihilated to a man, usually within a matter of seconds before the group moved on.  Eventually, Mox was convinced that no one remained alive to threaten them on the main level of the castle, and so she had Harold lead them down to the lower levels. 

The first chamber they arrived in was decorated with all manner of preserved hides, horns, heads, and bones of creatures malevolent and benign. An archway on the far side opened into a roughly hewn chamber in which stood, of all things, a bed. Velox led the way down the narrow spiral stairs into the room, cloaked in invisibility by a magical ring he’d removed from the finger of the weretiger in the throne room above. As he set foot in the room, he heard several low growls emanating from the shadowy corners. Two truly enormous hounds stepped into the light, their eyes like coals of fire, and flame dripping from their jowls. They sniffed the air, and then both of them simultaneously locked their eyes on the stairwell. Before Velox could react, they opened their jaws wide and breathed twin blasts of fire into the stairs, blistering the oracle’s flesh. He rolled across the floor, trying to extinguish himself. Stevhan dashed down the stairs behind him, and slashed at the nearest hound, driving it away from Velox. That gave the oracle time to regain his feet and draw his own blade and drive it through the hound’s chest. It fell twitching to the floor. Davrim followed Stevhan into the room and moved next to his friends to corner the remaining hound. Before they could strike, however, Davrim cried out in agony. Standing behind him, seemingly having materialized out thin air, was a horned creature with bat-like wings. Its claws dripped blood from where it had just driven them into the inquisitor’s neck. Davrim stumbled forward, and that’s when the hound lunged and sank its teeth into his chest. He wheezed, blood frothing from his lips as his lung was punctured. The dog didn’t let go, even as Davrim sank to his knees. It took Stevhan stabbing the beast again and again until it finally loosened its death grip. He and Velox then turned on the demonic assassin. It darted to the side, trying to maneuver around the warriors, but the room was too small. There was nowhere to run. The ranger and the oracle backed the creature into a corner, and though it fought back savagely, its claws were no match for twin yards of cold steel.
_________________________________________________________

“This is getting us nowhere!” Mox said in exasperation. “We’ve searched this whole place from top to bottom. Where is Irovetti!?”
“Maybe there’s something we missed,” Velox offered. “Something hidden. This place is a maze. There are bound to be numerous hidden passages and rooms secreted within it.”
“Fine!” Mox snapped. “Let’s go through it again.”

The companions spent the next two hours combing through the palace, searching every nook and cranny. They did indeed find several concealed doors, but most of these only led to service hallways. Finally, however, Stevhan stumbled on something different. It was a very cleverly hidden door just off the royal box that overlooked the palace’s arena. One the other side was a plain room, but a set of stairs led down to a passage that wound deep underground. Velox took the lead once more, cloaking himself in invisibility. At the bottom of another stair, he found himself in a sumptuously appointed bedchamber with a polished tile floor and walls, a tinkling fountain, and dozens of sculptures, all lit by stained-glass lamps and sconces. A large, owlbearskin rug lay before a hexagonal bed in the corner of the room, while on the far side, a  thick purple curtain hung from the ceiling. The sound of rippling water echoed from somewhere beyond the curtain.
“They’re here!” a voice that clearly belonged to Irovetti shouted from beyond the curtain.

Davrim dashed down the stairs just as the curtain was torn from its rod by Velox’s unseen hands. Beyond it, a placid pool glowed from many crystal lamps mounted above and below the water line. A gilded statue with Irovetti’s face and an impossibly perfect body rose from the waves with arms extended, as though reaching out toward a lover. Along one side, a large dry area seemed to have once served as a treasury, but all of the chests appeared to be empty. Five wardens and three heralds stood in a phalanx just beyond the curtain, while behind them stood Irovetti himself, next to an enormous creature with the body of a serpent, and the face of a sadistic-looking woman.
“Duck!” Selena’s voice came from behind the inquisitor, and instinctively, he did.
A pea-sized ball of flame streaked past him and exploded among the massed wardens and heralds, killing two of the former and a pair of the latter instantly. The flames also washed over the naga, and she recoiled, hissing. As the formation of soldiers disintegrated, Stevhan descended the stairs behind Selena, and put an arrow through the throat of the last herald standing. Tungdill was the last of the companions down the stairwell, and he added his own fire to the chaos, sending a winding snake of flames coursing among the wardens, burning the last three, before sending it towards both Irovetti and his serpentine guardian. The naga darted to one side, but as she did so, she sent a coruscating chain of electricity bouncing among Selena, Davrim, Stevhan and Tungdill. Selena answered with a lightning bolt of her own, followed by another, fireball. The twin blasts killed the naga before she could reach the pool towards which she was moving.

Irovetti was all alone, and he knew it well. Tungdill hurled a column of roaring light and flames at him, and he rolled frantically away from it, desperately trying to extinguish his robes. He raised the oddly bladed rod that he clutched in one hand, but before he could show its mysterious powers, Velox appeared before him, and with a flick of his blade, sent the rod spinning away into the pool. On his knees, he began casting a spell.
“He’s trying to escape again!” Mox cried. “Finish him!”
Before Irovetti could complete the last words of his spell, Velox raised his sword high, and with one swipe, removed the king’s head from his shoulders.
 ____________________________________________________________

It was Tungdill who first saw it, a narrow tunnel just beneath the water line in the pond, all but hidden in the shadowy recesses of the pool. Stevhan dove in and swam through the opening. The walls of the underwater cave in which he soon found himself were a wonder to behold. Masses of what appeared to be white, rose-shaped crystals covered every available inch of space on the walls, floor, and ceiling of the grotto. Something floated in the middle of the room, slowly turning in the water’s currents. It appeared to be some sort of long object wrapped in a white cloth. Carefully, Stevhan reached out to free the object from the shawl, and his hand gripped the hilt of the most beautiful sword he’d ever seen.
_________________________________________________________

The Kardashian nobility walked through the streets of Pitax, escorted by scores of centaur and human soldiers. They came to a halt in the Square of the Common Man, the most central part of the city. There, the representatives of the Bandit Houses stood, watched over by several Kardashian guardsmen. Mox and her companions paused before them.

“I’ve decided that your lives shall be spared,” she announced without preamble, “but there are conditions to your continued survival. You will be responsible for making reparations to the people of Kardashia for the damage inflicted upon them by your illegal and unsupported war.”
Jhofre’ Vascari gaped. “But…but we had nothing to do with the attack!”
“Of course you did,” Mox replied. “You stood by and let it happen. You allowed a usurper to be installed upon the throne of Pitax. Your guilt lies in your inaction.”
“By what authority do you do this??” Vascari demanded.
“Show them,” Mox turned to one of her attendants.
Harold the Herald tossed Irovetti’s head to the ground at the feet of the stunned barons.
“The King is dead,” he proclaimed loudly. “Long live the Queen!”


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## carborundum

Good grief! What a titanic running war of attrition!
Well done you guys - I would have thought the frontal approach was suicide... but as usual (Golismorga) you've proved me wrong!


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## JollyDoc

AFTERMATH

“I can’t believe you found them both!” Evindra gushed as she draped her shawl over her shoulders. “How did you do it?”
“By killing a murderer and a thief, apparently,” Mox replied. “Now, we have fulfilled our part of the bargain. You said there was information that we needed. What is it? We have pressing matters to attend to.”
“None more pressing than this, I fear,” the nereid said. “For you see, Briar is only part of the story. Now that you have recovered the blade, its former owner is likely to come for it.”
“I don’t like dramatics,” Mox snapped. “Speak plainly.”
Evindra sighed. “I am fey, my lady,” she said. “It is in my nature to be fanciful and talkative, but I will try to keep my tale brief. I was charged with watching over Briar long ago. Exactly how long, I can’t remember, but it was before humans first came to these lands.”
“Who gave you this charge?” Velox asked.
“Of that I cannot say much either,” Evindra said. “I’m certain that he worked for those who serve the Eldest of the First World, and I knew better than to disobey. He told me only that the sword was valuable to an upstart named Nyrissa, and that she desired it greatly, and that the Eldest did not want her to have it. Of Nyrissa, I can tell you that she once fell in love with one of the Eldest. Her resulting rise in power led her to proclaim herself one of the rulers of the First World, a grave mistake on her part. The Eldest reacted by sending the most powerful of the Tane, the Jabberwock, to slay her, and they exiled her lover to the Shadow Plane. Somehow, Nyrissa survived the Jabberwock’s attack, and I suspect that she harbors a deep grudge against the Eldest still. She now rules a realm called Thousandbreaths, which lies close to your plane within the forest that you call Thousand Voices. Nyrissa has long had an interest in the Stolen Lands, and many of the land’s fey know of and fear her. There are even rumors that she sometimes walks the Stolen Lands, visiting cruelties upon those who annoy her, and strange rewards upon those who please her. Perhaps there is some connection between these lands and the First World somewhere inside the forest of a Thousand Voices.”
“What about the sword?” Stevhan asked. He still carried the blade on his back, feeling a strange compulsion to keep it near him.
“It is a powerful, enchanted weapon in its own right,” Evindra replied, “but I know that it also has other powers, powers which I suspect will awaken once it is exposed to the raw energies of the First World, or if it is used to slay denizens of that realm. I do not know the nature of all of these abilities, but I know that is has a strong intelligence of its own, and that once fully awake, it is a vorpal blade.”
“Vorpal…,” Stevhan breathed.
“Well,” Mox said, “I suppose we’ll just have to add this Nyrissa to our long list of potential enemies.”
“Do not underestimate her,” Evindra warned. “She has been waiting a very long time to find Briar. Have no doubt that she will come for it. I would ask that you allow me to remain near the sword. My duty has not ended, though I do not begrudge you possession of it.”
“Do as you wish,” Mox said, “but I have no time to fear might-be’s and what-if’s. There are events now that must be dealt with.”
As she spoke, she absently caressed the growing swell of her belly.
___________________________________________________________

In the days and weeks that followed, Kardashia solidified its hold over Pitax city, though much of the country side remained unexplored. The militia that Mox had commanded was dispatched back to Veritas, while the regular army remained in Pitax City. Stevhan was appointed the Duke of Pitax, and he determined to bring stability to the land. The two centaur contingents followed Davrim and Velox back to Fort Drelev. A relative peace came to the Stolen Lands, and seven months later, there was reason for celebration across the united kingdom of Kardashia. Their Queen, Mox I, gave birth to a baby boy that she named Nessalin.
______________________________________________________________

One year after the death of King Irovetti, the Kardashian nobles returned to Pitax. Though Stevhan had returned the capital city to some semblance of normalcy, even enlisting the aid of the Bandit Lords to consolidate the support of the people, the lands around the country remained untamed. The Duke had enlisted the aid of his comrades to embark on an exploration of the land, and eliminate any threats from man or beast that might remain, so that settlers would feel safe to establish farm holds and new towns.

Their first stop was Hemlock Island, a small island in the middle of Lake Rushlight. Like Candlemere, the island had a reputation for being haunted by “lights.” The companions suspected will o’wisps, and so they set off to root out the creatures and allay the fears of the locals. Yet when they arrived there, they found nothing more than brightly colored rainbow egrets. As they stood on the crown of the island, looking out over the picturesque lake, however, someone, or rather something, stepped out of the trees on the lakeshore. The sound of clashing steel upon a battlefield resounded with every step of the ironclad giant. Its armor bore harsh but elaborate flourishes, as though it were the war regalia of some merciless warlord. Each plate looked impossibly thick and heavy, like the hulking titan within was completely hidden by layer upon layer of tightly woven chain and impregnable steel.

“I am the First Blade of Gorum,” came a voice like iron grating on stone. “You have taken the Chosen of the Iron Lord, and so you owe a debt that must be repaid. You will now accept the Iron Lord’s challenge, or you shall perish.”
The edict was issued without emotion, and before the companions could respond, the First Blade raised one gauntleted hand and raised a wall of whirling knife-like blades from the ground, separating Tungdill, Stevhan, Selena and Mox from Davrim and Velox. Mox raised her own hand and hurled an emerald blast through the blade barrier, hoping to disintegrate the iron giant into dust. The creature held up one palm and deflected the beam as if it were no more than a fly buzzing about its head. Davrim and Velox never hesitated. Both warriors drew their swords and charged the giant. They struck in unison, their swords ringing off the creature’s armor. The First Blade swung one massive arm and swatted Davrim aside like a rag doll. A moment later, Stevhan dove through the blade barrier, ignoring the razors as they sliced at his flesh. He rushed to the side of his friends, joining Velox in his assault. Davrim, shielded by his allies, rose to his feet and added his steel to theirs. The First Blade swung its fists like sledgehammers, but the combined might of the three warriors was simply overwhelming. After several frantic, violent moments, the creature simply seemed to collapse in on itself.
“You have passed…the test…,” it wheezed as it died. “The Iron Lord…is pleased…”
____________________________________________________________

The companions ranged far and wide across the Glenebon Uplands. Along the way they encountered many strange things, both wonderful and terrible. Deep within the Forest of Thousand Voices, they faced a hideous, carnivorous tree that had been preying upon local woodsmen and settlers. Still further in the wood, they stumbled upon an ancient ruin known, cryptically, as the Castle of Knives. It seemed as if it had been abandoned for a thousand years. In the foothills of the Branthlend Mountains, where the waters of the Whisper River plummeted over a 900-foot cliff side into a deep tarn, they found the skull of a long-dead silver dragon impaled atop the jagged trunk of a dead oak. Selena and Mox found the tell-tale signs of the lair of a black dragon, and an unbelievably old one from the look of it. Selena recalled the legend of the dragon Ilthuliak, that reputedly had dwelt in the depths of the tarn, but the lair looked to have been long disused. Deeper within the mountains, they stirred the ire of an ancient wyvern known by local barbarian tribes as Mingnos-Ushad, the Eater of Kings. But not, apparently, of Queens, as the beast was laid low by Mox’s powerful magics. On the far side of the Branthlends, the nobles came across an immense, mammoth graveyard, watched over by an awakened wooly mammoth named Hillstomper. The grizzled, scarred creature had been driven from the cemetery by a young crag linnorm. He begged the assistance of Mox and her companions in ridding him of the nuisance. Once the young, yet powerful dragon had been dealt with, Hillstomper pledged his loyalty and allegiance to Mox, and to Kardashia.

As the nobles made their way back across the plains of Glenebbon towards Pitax City, they found that one more challenge awaited them…a simple, random happenstance. A shadow fell upon them from the cloudless sky, and when they looked up, the unmistakable silhouette of a dragon was backlit by the brilliant sun. At first, they feared that Ilthuliak had returned from her exile, but though the dragon was indeed black and ancient, judging by the luster of its scales, it was no great wyrm. Still, that made it no less deadly. Selena hurled an immense explosion of fire at the beast as it swept past, but the flames seemed not to touch the dragon’s scaled hide. Instead, it wheeled, opened its immense jaws, and spewed a terrible stream of caustic acid, which rapidly formed a large pool around the companions. As the group felt their flesh burning from the corrosive liquid, Selena acted quickly, instantly transporting them all several hundred feet away to relatively safety. Immediately, Velox wove a spell about himself, and stepped into the air as if it were solid ground. Stevhan upended a potion from his belt, and he to rose into the sky. The two warriors charged the dragon, but as they approached, it struck like a snake, and sank its teeth into Stevhan’s arm. Though in obvious pain, the ranger still struck back. The dragon roared, and then folded its wings and dropped into the pool below. As it did, it spewed acid again, this time in a line that struck Davrim and Selena, over a hundred feet away. While it was distracted, Velox dove down and sank his blade between its shoulders. The beast reared on its back legs and swatted the oracle with its tail as it simultaneously raked him with its razor-like claws. It then buffeted Stevhan with a powerful down stroke of its wings, and bit him again as he tumbled away. A moment later, twin blasts of fire and lightning struck the dragon as Mox and Selena tried to buy their allies some time. Velox struck again, while Davrim brought his bow to bear, firing precise shots into the creature’s diamond-hard hide. Meanwhile, Tungdill conjured from thin air a gigantic roc. The great bird swept down upon the dragon, raking with its claws. Its attack, though effective, was short-lived. The dragon snapped its leg with its mighty jaws and dragged it from the air, pinning it beneath one clawed foot in the acid pool. Stevhan, bleeding profusely, tried to retreat from the battle, but as he moved, the dragon saw him, and snapped its teeth on his leg. His vision went momentarily dark, but then his enchanted armor flared with light, reviving him before he lost consciousness completely. The dragon shook him, and then flung him away. It turned on Velox and unleashed its full fury upon him, clawing him, slapping him with its whip-like tail, and swatting him with its wings. It then reared again in pain and panic as Tungdill sent a snake of pure fire into its chest. As its head rose, Velox drove his sword straight down through its skull. With one final shriek, it collapsed.

 As the massive, black-scaled dragon slammed against the ground, vivid, crimson blood began to pool around its fresh corpse. Mox's eyes narrowed as she gracefully flew down and landed beside the enormous fallen beast. Strutting in a large circle, she contemplated what she might be able to do with her newest prize.
 "Selena," called Mox and the witch dropped from the air beside her. "The dragon is much too large to be created into a skeleton. However, I think I could raise it into a zombie. What do you think?" 
   Selena scratched her chin as she pondered the magical question. "Zombies are so slow and not nearly as dangerous as a skeletal dragon would be, my queen," she replied
. "Quite true,” Mox nodded. “ However, I think I shall try a stronger animation. I will raise it as a fast zombie.” She grinned slightly. Selena nodded once in reply and crossed her arms over her chest. Mox stood over the dead of the dragon and raised her hand. A long, razor edged claw sprang from the nail of her index finger. She sliced the claw across the palm of her other hand, allowing the fresh blood to drip from the wound onto the dragon's head. 
"Mighty beast!” she commanded, as the pupils of her own eyes transformed into that of a reptile. “Allow my life to feed your return to this world! Our blood shall mingle, fierce dragon! My power shall reawaken your body to serve me." 
She spat and a stream of acid flew from her mouth, landing of the creature's head. The acid sizzled as it mixed with the blood. Currents of magical energy began to swirl around the sorceress. She reached into her black velvet spell pouch and retrieved an eye-sized onyx. 
"Rise great dragon and bow to your new master," Mox commanded as the onyx vanished in a flash of light. 
Suddenly, the once dead dragon lifted its head and staggered to its feet. Its mighty wings spread as its head bowed to Mox. Selena and the others stepped away from the undead creature as it lurched to life. Smiling, Mox reached back into her spell pouch. This time, she produced a large diamond and began to wave her hand over the sparkling gem. The gem began to levitate in the palm of her hand as she began her incantation.  It spun smoothly as it hovered a few inches above her palm. Waves of energy began to dance around the diamond and the speed of the twirling increased. 
"I call upon the ancient arcane powers to grant me a single wish," whispered Mox. 
Offering the wildly spinning gem before the undead dragon, Mox said, "Grant my new creation the quickness and speed of a powerful warrior!" 
With those words, the diamond imploded with a crunching sound and the undead dragon moved with a new found grace. A bead of sweat ran down the queen's face and she admired her magical work. 
Selena stepped forward and said, "The finest of creations, my queen." 
Mox nodded and replied, "I shall call him Reggie." 
The elegant, dark haired sorceress climbed atop the undead dragon and it quickly took to the air, powered by its massive flapping wings. 
Mox shouted down, "Inform the royal tailor that I'll need a pair of riding pants." She laughed quietly as she glided behind the tree tops, headed back towards Pitax City.


INTERLUDE

A few weeks after the defeat of the ancient black dragon, Mox teleported in a cloud of billowing dark smoke outside the castle of Pitax. After a salute, the castle's guards escorted her to the newly restored throne room. 
"All hail the Queen of Kardashia" loudly proclaimed Harold the herald. Various dignitaries, merchants, and minor local nobility bow deeply as Mox strode down the lush carpet toward the throne of the Duke of Pitax. 
"What a pleasure, my Queen.” Stevhan greeted her. “To what honor does Pitax owe your unexpected arrival?" 
 "Actually, I've come on personal business today. I hope I'm not intruding?" replied Mox.
 "Of course not," Stevhan said and raised his hand. "Leave us," he commanded his court
 Slowly, the various patrons, dignitaries, and court members vacated the throne room with Harold closing the massive doors behind them. All alone with the Queen, Stevhan took a moment to notice her attire. Her usual wings and claws, evidence of her draconic heritage, were absent. She wore a form fitting smooth dress of black silk that ended a few inches above her knees. The dress allowed a revealing view of her ample breasts, and the high hemline showed the length of Mox's athletic legs until they poured into a pair of knee-high, black leather, high-heeled boots. Her long wavy hair hung halfway down her back with a lustrous shine. Her eyes were shadowed with the darkest of kohl, and her full lips gleamed with a glossy, brilliant red coloring. She bit her lower lip and looked down before speaking. 
"Since Kane's death at the hands of the ghost, I've been..." Mox looked up and stared deeply into Stevhan's eyes, "very, very lonely.  Now that you’re a Duke, I was wondering if you might want to formally court me?"

Stevhan Rogarvia, the Stag Lord, Rightful Heir to the throne of Brevoy, Duke of Pitax, Warden of Kardashia, Rushlight Champion, Second Slayer of Armag the Twice-Born, was struck speechless.  It was impossible to hide his initial shock.
"It's okay,” Mox said. “I know this is all very sudden.”  She quickly looked away, her courage almost faltering.
Stevhan recovered his wits and moved to her.  Putting his large, battle-scarred hands on her shoulders, he looked into her eyes and spoke.
"You never fail to amaze me, Mox.  I'll admit, that it is sudden, but it is certainly not unwelcome."
The regal queen actually blushed at that.  It looked...nice.  
Stevhan continued. "Although it could be complicated.  I mean, how will the others take it?  It would probably be best for the Kingdom, but we're in a dangerous line of work, and bad things have happened before."
Mox stepped sharply away.  Her eyes flashed, "I was hoping for something a little more - personal."
‘Stupid, stupid, stupid’, thought the ranger. "I'm sorry, Mox,” he said. “I'm just no good at this sort of thing.  You're so far out of my league, and..."
The two of them stood awkwardly, staring at the intricate Vudrani rug beneath their feet.
 "Perhaps I should just go," Mox said.
 "I wish you wouldn't," Stevhan replied.  "Why don't you plan to spend a few days in Pitax?  You didn't get to see much of the city the last time you were here."  
They both smiled at that.  Of course, the immediate aftermath of the Kardashian siege was not pretty.  "We've rebuilt the walls, and the gardens are coming into bloom,” Stevhan continued. “Things are going well.  The Pitaxians are coming around, and they certainly prefer our rule to that of Irovetti.  It really is a lovely place.  I'd love to show you around."
Mox looked up and considered the hulking ranger before  her.  He had saved their lives more than once, and while he was a little rough around the edges, he was a good man.  
"Okay,” she said at length. “I'll stay."  She reached to take Stevhan's hand with a smile.  "But I'll need something to wear..."
Before she could complete her sentence, Harold the Herald, poked his head in the door.  "The tailor is on his way, milady," said the bard with a broad smile on his face.


----------



## R-Hero

Here I thought that Windchaser was going to be the coolest mount since Big Alice...I stand corrected.


Reggie??

I know there has to be a joke in there somewhere...I can only think of the first Indiana Jones movie when he got in the plane and the snake wrapped around his leg.


----------



## Joachim

R-Hero said:


> Here I thought that Windchaser was going to be the coolest mount since Big Alice...I stand corrected.
> 
> 
> Reggie??
> 
> I know there has to be a joke in there somewhere...I can only think of the first Indiana Jones movie when he got in the plane and the snake wrapped around his leg.




Hey Fred, how did you make it through the storms this week?  We had twisters go just north and just south of us, but no other issues.  I heard that Warrior may have gotten hit.


----------



## R-Hero

Joachim said:


> Hey Fred, how did you make it through the storms this week?  We had twisters go just north and just south of us, but no other issues.  I heard that Warrior may have gotten hit.





Power out on Wed, back on late Fri.  (Shout out to Southern Co.)
The first straight line winds knocked out power and almost every tree down in our neighborhood and downtown Warrior. (All six busniesses and both traffic lights were effected)

The guy living next door to me had a tree fall across my back fence and missed everything else.  (I am not going to fuss at him because he lost two bedrooms, part of a roof and a carport.)

The second round of tornados missed us completly.  Didn't even rain much at all.

No injuries,  Thanks for asking.


----------



## Mr Haldol

*Reggie Bush*

Reggie, the zombie black dragon, is ridden by Mox, Queen of the Kardashians.


Reggie Bush is another black stud once ridden by Kim Kardashian.


----------



## Joachim

R-Hero said:


> Power out on Wed, back on late Fri.  (Shout out to Southern Co.)




Ya damn right.


----------



## JollyDoc

THE SOUND OF A THOUSAND SCREAMS

The wedding of Mox and Stevhan was THE event of the year, and everyone who was anyone was in attendance, including representatives of the Sword Lords themselves. The celebrations lasted for over a week throughout the united kingdom, and alliances among the disparate factions of Kardashia were solidified. In the months that followed the royal wedding, Kardashia achieved a new level of peace and prosperity, even as circumstances in Brevoy spiraled ever closer to civil war. By mid-year, a second announcement from the royal family brought even greater rejoicing to the Kardashian citizens…Mox was pregnant with her second child. She gave birth the following winter to another son…Prince Henry.  Life was good…and then Spring arrived…
__________________________________________________________

“A representative from the Fishermen’s Guild, my Lady,” Harold the herald announced.
The old salt stepped cautiously into the throne room, obviously unaccustomed to such opulence and ostentatiousness. He shuffled up to the throne where Mox held court.
“Me Lady,” he sketched a brief bow.
“What news?” the Queen asked.
“There be trouble in the Tuskwater,” the sailor said without further preamble. “A whirlpool, and a right big one at that! It be five-hundred feet if it be an inch, and it be growin’ damn quick! Pardon me language. It already claimed three boats, and the fishin ain’t for crap! Yer pardon again, my Lady. Then there’s them freaky strange birds swimmin’ around in it, pretty as you please! It ain’t natural, I tell ye!”
“I see,” Mox replied, her expression neutral. “This is news indeed. Very well, I shall launch an investigation immediately. Your service is duly noted, Master Fisherman, and greatly appreciated.”
The old man bowed again as he backed hurriedly out of the chamber.
____________________________________________________________

It didn’t take Mox long to notify her comrades of the situation in the middle of the Tuskwater. Within the hour, the citizens of Veritas cheered as their Queen and her consort took to the air above the castle mounted atop Reggie, whom most of the city folk had come to see as an unofficial, if ghoulish, mascot. Selena, lifted aloft by her own magic, flew alongside the royal couple, while Davrim and Velox literally walked on air above the waters of the lake. Below them, Tungdill transformed himself into a water elemental, and knifed through the water as if born to it.

It didn’t take the companions long to spot the whirlpool the fisherman had spoken of. It was enormous, and it appeared to reach all the way down to the bottom of the lake, leaving a fifty-foot span of the lakebed exposed. Eerily silent black swans congregated in the waters surrounding the vortex. As they were drawn into it, they would fly up into the air and then settle back in the water some distance away, only to slowly drift back into the whirlpool over time.  As Tungdill swam near the vortex, he felt himself caught by the current. At first he was not concerned, confident that his watery form could easily break free. It only took a moment, however, for him to realize that, incredibly, the force of the whirlpool was too strong. Shortly after that, real panic set in, as four smaller whirlpools formed within the main one, and began moving purposefully towards him. As they drew near, they began to rise into the air as huge columns of water, forming into the shapes of enormous, watery swans. Thinking quickly, Tungdill transformed himself again, this time into an air elemental, and he flew desperately out of the vortex. 

High above, Selena conjured a small ball of ice between her palms, and then hurled it at the water below. As it struck, it burst and formed a vast sheet of solid ice across half the surface of the whirlpool, trapping two of the elementals within it. Then, at Mox’s command, Reggie dove towards the lake. As he dropped, Mox hurled a glittering emerald beam at one of the elementals, dissolving a large portion of its body in the process. Reggie’s tattered wings spread wide as he swooped towards a second elemental, gnashing with his broken teeth at its amorphous hide. Seated on the dragon behind, Mox, Stevhan turned backwards in the saddle and loosed two arrows at the creature that his wife had already injured. Abruptly, he felt something strike him like a sledgehammer as Reggie banked past an elemental that reached out a watery wing and slapped at the ranger as he passed.

From across the whirlpool, another of the elementals charged across the vortex, looking just like an enraged swan with wings flapping as it came. It struck Reggie as the dragon banked skyward. The creature snapped its beak at him as he rose, but a moment later the elemental was engulfed in a column of fire as Tungdill unleashed hell upon it. It reeled back towards the middle of the whirlpool, but before it could escape, Selena sent a blast of electricity streaking towards it from a slender wand in her hand. When the lightning bolt struck, it coursed through the creature, conducted by the water. It reared up again, slamming into Velox as it struck out blindly. The oracle hit back, his blade flaring as it ripped through the creature’s watery hide. Still in the air above Velox, Davrim opened fire with his bow, and Stevhan joined him from his perch atop Reggie. The elemental screeched and roared, but collapsed in on itself a moment later when Mox fired a volley of arcane bolts of pure acid into its body.

Velox hovered for a moment, then turned his opaque eyes on the elementals still trapped in the ice sheet. The oracle unleashed a blast of searing light from his palm at one of the creatures. From above, Mox directed Reggie in a wheeling arc back towards the trapped pair. As the dragon drew near, however, one of the elementals slammed into him, sending him tumbling from the air. Fortunately, he landed, sprawled on the ice and clamped his teeth down on one wing of the elemental. It struggled to break free, but then Tungdill sent a snake of fire winding towards all three of the remaining creatures. In rapid succession, the elementals dissolved, first as Davrim polished off one with his bow, then Mox disintegrated another, while Velox destroyed the last one with a devastating charge. No sooner had the last of the elementals been dealt with, than the central vortex collapsed in on itself, leaving nothing but black feathers floating on the surface of the once-more tranquil water.
___________________________________________________________

“I was afraid of this,” Evindra said as she turned one of the black swan feathers over in hands.
“What?” Mox asked. 
“That whirlpool, those creatures,” the nereid replied. “They were no natural occurrence.”
“We figured that out on our own!” Tungdill barked.
“Continue,” Mox told Evindra, pointedly ignoring the dwarf.
“It was a bloom,” Evindra said, “a First World bloom. An incursion, if you prefer. Nyrissa is preparing her invasion. The bloom was but the first foray. There will be more.”
“How do you know this?” Selena asked.
“This,” Evindra held up the feather. “Use your powers if you doubt me. You’ll find it bears a potent aura of magic about it. It is a token. Call it a trophy if you will. It is link between this world and the First World. It allowed Nyrissa to breach the barrier between worlds just enough to allow some of my world to spill over into yours…the bloom.”
“Well how do we stop them?” Stevhan asked.
Evindra shrugged. “You can defeat them, as you did this one, but there will be more, and more, until finally, a permanent portal will open between the First World and yours, and then Nyrissa will come through with all the powers at her command. The only way to prevent this is to stop her before this happens. You must go to the First World.”
“How?” Mox asked.
“Each bloom will have a trophy token similar to this one,” Evindra indicated the feather again. “Something that links it to the First World. If you have enough of them, you might be able to trigger a portal into the First World…but first you have to find one.”
“And you know where one might exist?” Selena asked.
“Perhaps…,” the nereid  trailed off. “I will look into it, but you must alert your people, in all corners of your kingdom. At the first sign of a new bloom, you must act quickly to destroy it, else it will spread like a plague, and Nyrissa’s work will be made that much easier. You must prepare.”
_____________________________________________________________

It was exactly as Evindra foretold. Eight days after the appearance of the whirlpool, word came from the Narlmarches that a foul tangle of enormous mushrooms, molds, and thick fibrous roots had appeared in the middle of the forest. It was spreading quickly and choking out any existing plant life. Furthermore, nearby farms were reporting swarms of tiny, plant-like creatures that were biting the ankles of livestock and children, chasing pets, and sometimes even climbing into the rooms of sleeping farmers during the night to drink blood from exposed necks or arms.

Mox and Selena teleported their companions to Fort Spears. From there, Stevhan led their trek into the forest, and it wasn’t long before they came upon the horrific, fungal growth. It covered everything, and from everywhere there was the smell of rot from where the natural flora was being suffocated. Worse still were the sounds that came from the bloom. Countless tiny cries, not unlike the sound of miniature babies, echoed throughout the unholy undergrowth. It wasn’t long until the companions discovered the source.

The shrieking reached an abrupt crescendo, and as it did, the companions reflexively covered their ears to protect them from the sonic assault. Even so, Davrim and Stevhan were overcome with waves of violent nausea. A moment later, the undergrowth seemed to erupt as thousands of tiny creatures, each no more than four inches high, burst from cover. Each resembled a vaguely humanoid plant, with tiny eyes, leaves for hair, and sharp wooden teeth. They swarmed over Stevhan, biting and scratching, and it was all the retching ranger could do to quickly clamber up onto Reggie’s back. Mox, already perched there, opened her mouth, and as she did so, her eyes became reptilian, and her tongue forked. Acid spewed from her throat, and the creatures died by the hundreds, yet still they came.  It was only through a combined assault by Velox, Tungdill and Selena, all of them bringing arcane fire to bear, that the swarm was obliterated. The respite was only a brief one, however, as a second cacophony of shrieks sounded from the forest, and another swarm of the teeny terrors came rushing into the clearing. 

Stevhan, still sitting atop Reggie, wasn’t feeling very well. The bites inflicted on his arms and legs by the swarm were starting to throb and burn. His vision blurred, and his head pounded. For a moment, he forgot where he was, even who he was. When his thoughts began to clarify, he realized that he was sitting on a dragon! An undead dragon! Shouting a challenge, he drew Briar and plunged it into the neck of the horrid abomination.

Tungdill conjured another column of flames upon the new attackers, while Mox hurled an explosive ball of fire at them. The swarm fractured, but did not break. Instead it surged towards Davrim. The inquisitor dove through the circular wall of flames that Velox had created around the previous swarm. Fire licked at his clothing, but he rolled across the ground and to his feet once he was in the center of the ring, quickly putting himself out. Unfortunately, though dozens of them died in the process, the little horrors were not deterred by the flames, and pursued him within the wall.

Mox turned when she heard Reggie roaring. She saw Stevhan atop the dragon, slashing and hacking with Briar. Cursing roundly, the sorceress wove a glowing web of magic about Reggie, instantly transporting him to safety, but leaving Stevhan behind. He fell heavily to the ground, and sat there for several moments, bleary-eyed. 
“What…what happened?” he asked in confusion.
“You were poisoned,” his wife snapped. “Drink this.” She tossed a flask his way, and he quickly upended it. Within seconds, his head began to clear.

Davrim reached into a pouch at his belt and retrieved a potion flask, which he immediately drank down. His body abruptly felt lighter than air, and he quickly rose into the sky. The swarm, denied its prey, rushed back through the fire wall, and headed immediately towards Stevhan. It never made it anywhere near him. Mox stepped in front of the mandragoras, opened her mouth, and engulfed the swarm in acid, obliterating it completely.
___________________________________________________________

The Kardashian leaders didn’t receive even a one day reprieve before the next report of trouble reached them. This time, however, it didn’t seem as if another bloom had appeared. Rather, reports came in that Littletown in Pitax had been attacked. It seemed as if a horde of two-headed giants led by a horned warrior had attacked out of the Forest of Thousand Voices, and then promptly disappeared back into it as quickly as they’d come. Rumors began running rampant that the Stag Lord had returned.  Mox and Selena acted rapidly, and teleported the companions to Littletown. 

The town itself was intact, but the damage was extensive. Survivors and witnesses repeated the account of marauding ettins led by a horn-helmed warrior who wielded a bow with deadly accuracy. It didn’t take much effort on Stevhan’s part to pick up the trail of the raiders where they’d trampled through the forest. From there, it was only a matter of hours until the companions came upon the giants. There were twelve of them, all hulking, massive brutes with equally large axes. Behind them stood a lone warrior. He was bare-chested, and wore a massive helm on his head, concealing his features. Two large horns did indeed curve out of the helm, but when the companions saw that he walked on a pair of goat-like legs, they knew that the horns were not part of the helm, but of the warrior. He nodded silently to his giants minions, and then unlimbered his bow.

Velox, Stevhan, and Davrim didn’t wait. The trio charged across the clearing, deftly dodging the clumsy blows of the ettins as they passed. In seconds, they had the horned hunter surrounding, and they laid into him, their blades flashing, especially Briar. The fey-bane weapon hummed with such power that Stevhan almost imagined the sword was excited. The hunter recoiled under the assault, blood flowing freely from several wounds. Suddenly, his helm flashed, and he vanished, only to reappear an instant later on the far side of the clearing. 

Mox saw the horned hunter appear behind her, but she also had to contend with the ettins who were ignoring her more heavily armored companions and charging right towards her, Selena and Tungdill. Thinking quickly, she conjured a large pit directly in front of the oncoming horde. The lead giant couldn’t stop his momentum, and tumbled in…only to fall some sixty feet and land in a pool of caustic acid below. Two more behind the first ettin, despite the warning screams of their comrade, were also too cumbersome to alter their path, and they to slipped into the acid pit.
“Reggie, kill!” Mox commanded the undead dragon.
Reggie leaped awkwardly into the sky, his tattered wings beating the air. He groaned as he turned and flew towards the horned hunter. The satyr began to backpedal, bringing his bow up as the undead dragon bore down on him. Too late. Reggie plowed into him like a battering ram, his rotten teeth tearing into the hunter’s flesh. In desperation, he teleported again.

Selena, now with all of the ettins lined up nicely before her, sent a coruscating blast of lightning into them. It struck the first, and then arced to each one in turn, killing a half-dozen of them instantly. By the time the remaining three had recovered, Davrim, Stevhan and Velox had closed the distance to them, and quickly put them out of their misery.

The horned hunter reappeared at the opposite side of the clearing and looked balefully about the battlefield. All of his minions were slain, and he grievously wounded. He raised his bow in defiance, and prepared to teleport one last time and make good his escape. The last thing he saw was Tungdill shaking one admonishing finger at him, then a flash of black light. Tungdill’s bearded face grinned from ear to ear as the satyr simply collapsed. 
“Now that’s how ya kill somebody,” he laughed. “And ya don’t get yer hands dirty doin’ it, neither!”
_____________________________________________________________

For three days, no further news of First World incursions reached the companions. Then, on the evening of the fourth day, Velox had a strange dream…more of a nightmare, really. In it, he had become lost in a bog and stumbled into a pool of quicksand. As he struggled to free himself, thousands of insects swarmed around him, eating him alive. As he was overwhelmed, he saw in the dark, night sky above an immense, black bird looking down upon him. Somehow, he knew, just knew, that it was the bird that had brought him to this doom. 

When the oracle awoke, he was horrified to find that the dream had followed him! He was still in his own chambers, and in his own bed, but he was literally covered by thousands of biting, stinging centipedes. He leaped from his bed, only to find the floor alive with the bugs as well. His armor hung on its stand, and his exposed flesh was bleeding from hundreds of tiny bites. Thinking quickly, he called on Iomedae’s power and wove a spell about him which rendered his skin as hard as stone. Then, he summoned a circular wall of flames in the center of the chamber, immolating hundreds of the creeping doom, yet still they pursued him. Like a living cloak, they began crawling all about him. The oracle, in desperation, conjured a wall of whirling and slashing blades across the room, decimating the furnishings. He took a running start and leaped through the barrier, carrying his assailants with him. Though the blades nicked and cut him, they completely shredded the insects. He landed in a heap, sweat and blood dripping from his body. All the centipedes were simply gone. What had just happened?
____________________________________________________________

The following morning, Velox told the others what had transpired the night before.
“So we are being attacked in our sleep now, is that it?” Mox asked.
“We have to sleep!” Selena exclaimed. “How else can Mox and I regain our spells?”
“Don’t worry,” Stevhan said. “The rest of us can go without. Velox can use his prayers to keep us from exhaustion. All of us will stay in the throne room tonight. You and my lady can rest safely while the rest of us stand watch.

Selena and Mox did not rest easy that night. Mox dreamed that she wandered alone in a desert, while gigantic scorpions dogged her path. Looming over the horizon as she fought for her life was the great, black bird Velox had described. Selena dreamed that she was being mauled by a vicious tiger, and she too saw the bird observing her plight, but unlike Velox and Mox, she recognized her tormentor. Her grandmother had once told her the tale of the Nightmare Rook, a mythical creature said to dwell in the First World. It was said to visit its victims in their dreams, where it would inflict living nightmares upon them. Those who had survived these attacks, were said to have done so by ignoring the creatures in their dreams and confronting the Rook itself, threatening to attack it. Selena tried to force her subconscious mind to do this, but the ferocious attack of the tiger was too distracting. As it clamped its jaws around her throat, she awoke screaming.

When Selena’s eyes flew open, she felt hot breath on her face, and large, slitted golden eyes stared coldly into her own. The tiger’s mouth gaped wide, but before it could pounce, the witch forked her fingers before it. The big cat’s eye lids drooped, and it rolled heavily onto its side, purring deeply in its sleep. Then Davrim was there, plunging his blade through the tiger’s neck. It vanished as it died.

Across the room, three scorpions the size of bulls surrounded Mox. The Queen spewed acid from her mouth upon one, dissolving it to nothingness, while Stevhan and Velox expertly dispatched the other two.

“It’s the Rook!” Selena gasped as she struggled to catch her breath. “Tomorrow night, we have to focus upon the Rook!”
__________________________________________________________

The following night, Selena dreamed again, this time of being buried alive while the Rook looked on. Selena calmed herself through a great effort of will, and then focused her magic upon the rook, hurling lightning into its face. The Rook, startled by the unexpected aggression, took wing and disappeared into the night sky. Selena awoke as the nightmare ended. 

Across the room, Stevhan wasn’t certain what had just transpired, but he suddenly felt Briar pulse with warmth where it lay strapped across his back.


----------



## carborundum

Crikey - these incursions are tough!
Good luck folks!


----------



## JollyDoc

SPRING’S BLOOM

Two weeks after the appearance of the first fey bloom, Mox was still receiving reports from across the land of First World incursions. The latest news came from the mountains of the Tors of Levy. Despite the increasingly warming weather of Spring, mountaineers in the area told of freak blizzards occurring out of nowhere. In addition, new growths of vegetation had sprouted seemingly overnight. The companions had all remained at the keep in Veritas since the onset of the blooms, and it didn’t take Mox long to assemble them for a journey to the alpine country.

The trip was surprisingly swift, thanks to Velox transforming the team to cloud-like mist, and then sweeping them along on the wind across the plains to the Tors. It wasn’t long after they reached the foothills of the mountains until they saw the unnatural terrain of the bloom below them. Tangles of alpine shrubbery, twisted pine trees, and sheets of thick, slippery lichen covered the terrain. It was only when Velox dismissed his spell, and the companions returned to their solid forms, that the extreme cold bit into their flesh. Tungdill quickly wove an enchantment about them, protecting them from the worst of the elements. 

The group set about exploring the area, looking for the source of the bloom. It took over two hours before they stumbled across it. It rose over thirty-feet into the air, an immense gravestone carved from ice, upon which were inscribed tens of thousands of names. Cautiously, the companions approached. The names were written in Common, and as each of the heroes gazed upon them, their own name was the first one they saw. Suddenly, large shapes began to loom out of the falling snow, emerging in a circle surrounding the companions. Six giants, nearly fifteen-feet in height, with skin as clear as ice, and eyes that glowed with blue light, stepped forward, each clutching axes that looked to be made of thick ice as well.

As the giants moved in, Selena waved her hand before her, and the nearest collapsed into a deep slumber. Velox, his eyes glazed over, spun in a circle, conjuring a ringed wall of flashing blades as he did so. Three of the oncoming giants were trapped within the churning metal. They roared in pain and struggled to break free, but Stevhan and Davrim barred their path. Together, they cut down one of the brutes, sending him falling back into the blade barrier. At Mox’s command, Reggie leaped to the side of the warriors, and clamped his teeth down on the upraised arm of another giant. Snarling, he ripped his weapon arm free, and hacked at the zombie, sending bits of rotten flesh flying in all directions. Davrim quickly moved to the dragon’s aid, running his blade through the giant’s chest and sending it crashing into the blade wall. Tungdill foiled the escape of third giant by immolating it where it stood with a column of white fire. Only two of the frost giants remained, but Mox quickly reduced that number to one by creating a pit of boiling acid beneath the feet of the nearest. Davrim met the last head-on, and in a brief but violent exchange of blows, brought the creature to its knees. As the final giant fell, the great tombstone cracked and shattered into a thousand shards. In an instant, Spring returned to the Tors.
____________________________________________________________

Over the next week, two more blooms appeared in the kingdom. The first was in the Kamelands, where a tangled mass of briars and brambles rapidly grew to a height of fifteen feet, and began to spread like wildfire. When the heroes arrived to investigate, they found a trio of huge, three-armed giants who were apparently acting as “gardeners” for the bloom. The creatures were dealt with, only to dissolve into large seed pods which began to grow into new giants. It took white-hot, arcane fire to finally put an end to the threat, and destroy the bloom.

The second bloom opened in Hooktongue Slough as a hideous mockery of the swamp, filled with thousands of wriggling, red worms. Upon arriving, the companions were immediately set upon by three of the vermin grown to immense size, with hook-shaped jaws that extended from their rubbery maws, as well as jagged, poisonous stinger-tipped tongues. Once more, the heroes dealt with the threat, but not before Stevhan inadvertently dropped Briar down the gullet of one of the beasts. To the ranger’s credit, rather than lose the powerful blade, he dove down the worm’s mouth after it, and subsequently cut his way out of its gut, Briar glowing with power as he did so.
___________________________________________________________

Near the end of the month, strange news reached Mox, which was saying something, considering the events of the previous weeks.  The original trading post owned by Oleg, the place where it had all began, so to speak, had been abandoned years ago. Oleg had built a new, much larger establishment, and a town had grown up around it. The old post still sat alone on the prairie, neglected and ever more decrepit over time. The word that Mox received, however, was that not only had a new, rampant bloom appeared, but it seemed as if it was center upon Oleg’s old outpost. Not only that, but there were rumors that the post was inhabited again, and since the bloom had appeared, a young woman had gone missing, the daughter of a wealthy merchant friend of Oleg’s. 

As Mox made preparations to depart, Tungdill stomped into her chamber.
“Ya ain’t gonna believe what just happened!” he snapped.
“Don’t you knock?” Mox replied irritably. 
Tungdill shrugged. “Ain’t no doors out in the woods. Anyway, I was just takin’ a walk in the park…,”
“The park?” Mox asked. “How urbane of you.”
“It’s my park, ain’t it?” the dwarf barked. “Got my name on it! Can I finish my story, or not?”
“I suppose you will whether I say so or not,” Mox said.
Tungdill glared, and then cleared his throat.
“So like I said, I was walkin’ along, mindin’ my own business, all of a sudden this little pixie appears outta nowhere?”
Mox raised one eyebrow, but said nothing. Tungdill’s face turned red.
“It was a pixie!” he shouted. “Ya think I don’t know a fairy when I see one?”
“I’m certain you would,” Mox smiled.
“She started yammerin’ at me a mile a minute, like them little folk do,” the druid continued. “Said her name was Limm Ticklewing, and before ya say anything, I ain’t makin’ that up! She said she was worried about her six sisters. Said they was all kidnapped a month ago by a ‘nasty wizard made outta worms.’ She said the wizard and a scary witch put her sisters inta some kind of magic cage, and then gave the cage to a big troll. She seemed to know that we was fixin’ to leave for Oleg’s  old place. Funny coincidence, huh?”
“Very funny,” Mox said. “Seems like all roads lead to Oleg’s.”
__________________________________________________________

Midnight in the Stolen Lands. The place: Oleg’s trading post. Shadowy, hulking shapes prowl through the darkness inside the compound, yellow eyes glinting in the sparse moonlight. Then, a flash of brilliant light. Six figures and a dragon appear out of nowhere, and all Hell breaks loose!

Selena whirled as she sensed movement out of the corner of her eye. Two great, black-pelted cats, with upper fangs like sabers, came leaping out of the night. The witch hurled fire at them, and they yowled as the flames exploded between them. Still, it only slowed their momentum for a moment. One leaped for her, bearing her to the ground where its claws began to tear at her flesh as its jaws sought her throat. Suddenly, a flash of electricity from the witch’s flesh sent the tiger flying backwards…straight into Davrim’s blade. 

Velox caught the second tiger in mid-leap with his own sword. As the cat hissed and rolled with the blow, Tungdill sent a tendril of fire its way. It leaped aside again, landing near Selena, who’d only just regained her feet. The witch simply laid her hand upon the animal’s pelt, and it just…died. 

Across the courtyard, Stevhan threw open the doors to the stables. As he did, a thousand pounds of tiger flew at him from inside. The Stag Lord fell back under the assault, only to come up against the fetid snout of Reggie. The undead dragon moaned low in its throat as the tiger raised its hackles. Fearless, the great cat leaped, only to die a moment later in Reggie’s jaws. Stevhan heard a small whimper from inside the stable. He turned, Briar raised before him, but lowered the blade quickly when he saw the young girl cowering in the shadows of a stall. A moment later, Mox rushed past him to the girl’s side. 
“Be still,” his wife whispered, and then she wove a spell of invisibility about the young noblewoman.

Suddenly, a furious roar sounded from the main building as the doors were flung wide. Three more black tigers leaped out, followed by a monstrously large troll clad head to toe in plate armor. He carried a vicious-looking ranseur in his hands, and around his neck he wore a strange necklace. It consisted of six, tiny cages, each of which contained a miniaturized pixie. They screamed in abject terror as the troll rushed forward, foam slavering from its jaws.

As the troll charged forward, a pair of his tiger pets leaped on Reggie’s back, while another mauled Davrim as the inquisitor tried to meet the giant head-on. The brute raised his pole-arm high above his head and drove it through Velox’s shoulder. As he did, a smaller wound opened in his own, leathery hide, and immediately began to knit shut again. The troll laughed maniacally as he dipped one finger into his own blood and then licked it clean. Davrim broke free from the tiger, flinging it from him. He surged towards the troll and swung with his full might. As his blade struck, however, there was an ear-piercing scream from one of the imprisoned pixies as it exploded in a small fountain of blood, leaving its cage bent and broken. Davrim was dumb-struck, while the troll simply chuckled, and the other pixies wailed in anguish.

Selena witnessed what transpired with horror. Then she saw Mox preparing to unleash a spell upon the troll. When she realized the Queen intended to disintegrate the creature, she shouted a warning, and shouldered Mox aside.
“What are you doing!?” Mox shouted as her spell went wide and only clipped  the trolls arm.
“The pixies!” Selena cried. “He’s using them as some sort of shield!”
The troll began to snarl low in his throat as he clutched at the spot on his arm where a sizeable chunk of his flesh had just vanished. When he turned towards Mox and Selena, however, the witch forked her fingers at him, and his eyelids sagged. With a deafening snore, he collapsed to the ground, asleep.

Reggie’s neck snaked around and seized one of the tigers on his back in his jaws, snapping its spine in two. Stevhan snapped off a volley of arrows into the other, sending it tumbling to the ground in a heap. Davrim rushed over to the fallen troll and ripped the necklace from around its throat. As he did so, the giant grunted and opened his eyes. With a roar, he surged to his feet. Velox threw himself forward, slashing furiously with his blade. The troll was rocked back on his feet, and then Selena struck with an explosion of electricity, sending him crashing down, smoldering, and killing the last of the tigers in the backlash. Knowing full well that trolls were not so easily slain, Davrim stood over the brute and hacked its head off.

Mox took the necklace from Davrim and opened the remaining cages one by one. As she did so, the pixies emerged and grew to their normal size. 
“I’m sorry for the loss of your sister,” the Queen said, bowing. “We did not know her peril.”
“It was not your fault, Lady,” one of the faeries said, tears in her eyes. “We owe you our lives, and we give you and your clansmen our blessing.”
Then each of them took flight and disappeared into the night with a twinkle of light. 

Across the compound, Stevhan’s brow creased in confusion as he felt another pulse of energy from Briar. With it he also felt something else…awareness? When he drew the blade to examine it, he found that it had transformed into cold iron…


----------



## R-Hero

How much more of this Adventure Path is left, J.D.?

If its near the end, what waits in the wings??


----------



## JollyDoc

R-Hero said:


> How much more of this Adventure Path is left, J.D.?
> 
> If its near the end, what waits in the wings??




At this point in the SH, the group is in the last adventure of the AP. I'd say about half-way through. In real life, we completed the AP this past Sunday. However, I have another one-shot adventure designed for 17th-20th level characters that is going to dovetail nicely with the background of one of the PC's. We'll be starting that next week, which I will also be chronicleing. I hope to have the next update this weekend...promise!


----------



## SolitonMan

JollyDoc said:


> At this point in the SH, the group is in the last adventure of the AP. I'd say about half-way through. In real life, we completed the AP this past Sunday. However, I have another one-shot adventure designed for 17th-20th level characters that is going to dovetail nicely with the background of one of the PC's. We'll be starting that next week, which I will also be chronicleing. I hope to have the next update this weekend...promise!




JD, I just wanted to say thanks for all the great adventures you've shared with us over the years.  I can't say enough how much I enjoy reading what you write!


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## Abciximab

SolitonMan said:


> JD, I just wanted to say thanks for all the great adventures you've shared with us over the years.  I can't say enough how much I enjoy reading what you write!




Ditto for me. Your early story hours were a big part of what got me hooked into the story hour board in the first place. 

Any idea what will follow once Kingmaker and its expansion is complete?


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## carborundum

Hear hear! Sunday mornings begin with turning on the computer and checking if there's a JD update, then printing it out to devour over breakfast 
Whatever comes next, I'm sure it'll be awesome. I kind of hope it's Carrion Crown though!


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## JollyDoc

Thanks, you guys! I really do appreciate your feedback. I enjoy writing the SH's, though occasionally, I get a bit of writer's block. After Kingmaker, we're actually going to be starting Serpent's Skull, wherein our heroes will all be well and truly...EVIL!! Some of them will even have ties to events in Kingmaker!


----------



## JollyDoc

SNICKER SNACK

It was exactly one month from the appearance of the first First World bloom when the last one erupted, quite literally, on the front steps of Veritas. In the early morning hours, Mox, Stevhan and Velox were summoned to the battlements by Harold. On the plains before the capital city a strange and sinister forest had grown seemingly overnight. Protruding from the center of the mass of twisted trees, thorny vines and evil-looking fungi, was a ghostly image of an impossibly tall alabaster tower atop a hill that looked too round to be natural. A spectral phantasm of an immense black wyrm could be seen flying in circles around the tower. A tremendous clamor of screams, growls, roars and howls emanated from the forest, echoing across the plain to the ears of every citizen of Veritas. As Mox and the others watched, a veritable army of horrors exploded out of the bloom. Murderous beasts, crazed satyrs, giant worms, slavering, deformed wyverns, lumbering giants, and blood-drinking plants swarmed towards the city walls. Mox’s eyes went wide, and she turned to Velox, knowing the answer to her question before it was asked. Their armies from the war with Pitax had been disbanded.

Velox didn’t hesitate. He sent runners to spread the call-to-arms to the city guard. After the war with Pitax, the general had spent months personally training the watchmen for just such an eventuality. Kardashia had grown too large to maintain a permanently standing army, so each province had been charged with forming its own militia to answer the call in time of need. With the exception of Fort Drelev, Velox’s own city, Veritas was the most prepared for such an eventuality. Within minutes, the best archers of the guard were assembled on the walls, while the infantry set to clearing civilians from the streets, and reinforcing the main city gates.  As the hordes of the First World charged recklessly across the plain, the bowmen of Veritas opened fire. The swarm of arrows was so dense that it cast a shadow between the horde and the sun, and scores of fey fell screaming to the ground. Still the swarm came. They reached the city walls, where the giants formed makeshift siege towers that the smaller creatures began to swarm up. Again and again the archers fired, but the sheer numbers of the enemy were overwhelming. Then, a rallying cry went up among the defenders as the Royal Magister, Selena, the Warden, Tungdill, and the Queen herself strode out atop the battlements. On Mox’s command, the three rained fire, ice and burning acid down upon the ravening mob below. The wave broke and fell back, self-preservation overcoming their savage blood thirst. The reprieve was brief, however. The next assault focused on the main gates, and though the massive portals were made of iron-backed hardwood, and barred by massive iron bolts, the splintered under the unrelenting pounding of the giants. The guardsmen found themselves in bloody, brutal hand-to-hand combat through the city streets. Yet they were not alone. Velox, Davrim and Stevhan stood shoulder-to-shoulder with them, and though the casualties were high, the horde was beaten back once more. As the fey army was pushed back outside the city walls, the archers opened fire again, and that time, Mox, Selena and Tungdill ensured that the victory would be total. Under the horrific power of their magic, not a single fey survived.
__________________________________________________________

“What’s next?” Mox asked Evindra. 
The Queen was seated upon the throne. Aside from the nereid, only her immediate lieutenants were present. In the aftermath of the First World assault, the city was still reeling and struggling to both recover and come to grips with the losses they had suffered. It had only been two days, and the wounds were still raw. 
“I…I’m not sure,” the fey replied uncertainly. “Nyrissa is very powerful, but I feel that her ability to maintain the blooms is becoming stretched. Still…I feel…there’s something I’m missing…,”
As if in reply, a peal of thunder rocked the very foundations of the castle, rattling the glass within the window frames.
“What the Blazes??” Tungdill cursed. “There ain’t a cloud in the sky outside! Checked the weather m’self this mornin’!
“I’m guessing this isn’t going to be a natural occurrence,” Velox sighed. “Looks like the fey queen isn’t done with us yet.”
_________________________________________________________

As Tungdill had said, the sky was clearest blue when the companions emerged from the keep, but the thunder rolled again, deafening in its intensity. Citizens began to pour into the streets, curiosity mixed with concern upon their faces. The city watch reported no sign of activity on the plains, nor the lake. The sky remained empty. Again and again came the peels. It was Stevhan who first mentioned the regularity of them…every ten minutes. Then, as the sun reached high noon, the rhythm changed. It came more quickly, with increasing regularity, almost like…footsteps…

A final crack of thunder, the loudest one yet, shook the city, and then, with a flash of emerald light, the boundary between the First World was sundered. Momentarily, a rent appeared in the fabric of reality above Veritas, and a True Monster stepped between worlds. The hideous, reptilian beast stood nearly thirty-feet high, with a long, scaly neck, a vaguely draconic body, and a sinuous, whip-like tail. Its arms and legs were thin, but incredibly strong, ending in sharp talons. Immense, draconic wings flapped on its back, and its ovoid head was a nightmare of bulging eyes, sharp teeth, and long thin antennae or whiskers. 
“It is the Tane!” Evindra screamed in fear. “She has sent the Jabberwock!!”

As the crowds began to run and shriek in panic, Stevhan felt a sudden flush of heat from his back, and then heard a voice in his mind.
‘I am Briar,’ it said, ‘and I have awakened. My time with you is brief, for the final reckoning has not yet arrived, yet if my enemy has indeed sent the Tane among you, then I cannot remain idle. Take me up, young warrior, for it was you that I chose. Fear not to wield me. My power is yours to command, and I shall protect you as I vanquish our common foe. Rise up! Snicker-snack!!’

“Get these people out here!” Velox ordered the captain of the guard as his eyes began to glaze over. Iomedae’s might filled him, and he swelled to twice his size. Beside him, Tungdill vanished into the cyclonic form of a whirling elemental. 
“Go!” Selena cried to her companions. “I’ll try to hold it back for a moment!”
Her hands wove magic in the air above her, conjuring a powerful dweomer able to paralyze the muscles of even the strongest beasts. But not, apparently, a Jabberwock. As it descended towards the ground, it burbled a cacophony of strange noises and shouted nonsense in various languages. The effect was maddening, and many among those fleeing threw themselves to the ground, their hands over their ears, while others turned on their neighbors, attacking them unprovoked with whatever improvised weapons were close at hand.

Tungdill’s vortex rose into the sky and crackled with black lightning. The druid sent one of the bolts sizzling towards the Tane, hoping to snuff out its life with a single strike. The Jabberwock flinched and snarled at the stinging of its flesh, but to the druid’s disbelief, only a small, black smudge marked where the devastating bolt had struck. 
Still on the ground below, Velox reached deep inside to harness the power of his patron. He extended his palm, and ebony light lanced towards the Jabberwock. Under ordinary circumstances, the powerful spell would be capable of healing even the most mortal of wounds, but the oracle had altered its purpose, intending for it work in exactly the opposite fashion. Such harm would it inflict, that the target would be wounded almost unto death. The Jabberwock recoiled from the blast, but otherwise seemed unfazed. Lost in his battle fervor, it occurred to Velox only remotely that this might be a fight they could not win.

Stevhan never for a moment doubted Briar’s word. He reached into his belt for a flight elixir, and then leaped into the air, the sword glowing like a beacon before him. The Jabberwock’s eyes locked on him instantly, and its jaws snapped forward, savaging his leg. The ranger veered in mid air and brought Briar down upon the monster’s neck, hoping to sever it cleanly. At that last moment, the Tane jerked away, leaving a horrible in its hide, and something in its eyes that Stevhan was shocked to see…fear. Then, its eyes started to glow with crimson fire, and twin beams of crimson light flared from them. Both struck the prince, setting him ablaze and tumbling from the sky.

Tungdill rushed forward, catching the falling ranger in his vortex before he could hit the ground. 
“Not so fast, boy!” the elemental rumbled in a voice like thunder. “We still need ya!”
The druid channeled healing magic into Stevhan, closing his wounds and returning him to consciousness.
“Thanks old timer,” Stevhan smiled grimly. “I owe you one.”
“You owe me plenty!” Tungdill growled as he hurled the ranger back into the sky.

Mox watched, tight-lipped as her husband joined the battle once more. Davrim rose into the air with him, but the Jabberwock batted the inquisitor aside like a leaf in a windstorm. She feared for Stevhan’s life, but she would never speak the words aloud. This was their duty. Their calling. No life of ease was ever promised them. She closed her eyes, slowly exhaled her breath, and began her own incantation. With luck, before her husband even reached the beast, she would be able to suffocate the air right out of its lungs. No sooner had she cast the spell, however, than she knew it would fail. The Tane unleashed its fiery gaze again, and though Stevhan was singed, he continued upward. 

Briar flared like a small star as Stevhan struck. The blade bit deep into the hide of the Tane, and each time it did, the beast screamed like a child.  Again and again it lashed out at the ranger, both with its eye beams, and with tooth and claw. Stevhan burned and he bled, but he did not waver. He did not retreat. He fought like a man possessed, until finally, with an inarticulate cry of rage, he drove Briar through the Jabberwock’s breast and into its heart. With a final scream, the Tane exploded into a thousand pieces.
‘Well done, young prince,’ Briar whispered, its voice already fading. ‘I have chosen well. We shall meet again soon.’
____________________________________________________________

“If Nyrissa sent the Jabberwock for you,” Evindra opined, “then perhaps she’s reached the limit of her ability to assault your world…at least for now.”
“What are you saying?” Mox asked. “That she might resume the attacks?”
“In time,” Evindra cast her eyes down. “She is immortal after all. Time is her ally.”
“And you are supposed to be ours!” The Queen’s voice rose angrily. “Weren’t you supposed to be researching a way for us to take the fight to this bitch?”
“Yes, my Queen,” Evindra nodded. “I cannot be certain, but I think I may have found something after all. I had planned on telling you sooner, but with all of the blooms coming so quickly, I wasn’t sure the time was right.”
Mox’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Perhaps if you’d told us sooner, then we wouldn’t have had so much trouble with the blooms. Now…what have you found?”
“The Castle of Knives,” Evindra replied. “The ruins you found in Thousand Voices. I think the portal might lie there. Go there. Take the bloom tokens you’ve collected and…we’ll see.”
“ ‘We’ll see??’” Mox snapped. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means…I’m not certain,” Evindra whispered. “It’s all I can tell you.”
Mox turned to her companions, her face burning. 
“Prepare yourselves,” she said. “We leave at dawn.”
___________________________________________________________

It was nearly midnight and Selena stood outside, gazing across the castle's gardens from atop her tower's balcony. Suddenly, a silent shadow blocked the pale moonlight above the witch. The massive form of an ancient black dragon glided above the tower. Leaping from the beast's back, the Queen of Kardashia glided down upon her own black, leathery wings and landed beside Selena. The pair faced each other and each nodded respectfully. 
"What is the reason for our private meeting, my Queen?" asked Selena.
 Mox folded her arms across her chest before speaking. 
"Hunting down this Fairy Queen is a great concern and a huge threat to the kingdom. I believe that facing  her on her own plane will put great risk to everyone making the attack."
 Mox turned and gazed out over the walls of the castle.
 "I believe the time has come to ask a great service of you, Selena. I feel we may need the power of the Eye to guide us through this crisis. I'd like you to consider taking its power before we cross into another plane."
   "What about Velox," asked Selena. "You know he and the orc will not allow me to have it."
   "Your powers and my illusions will protect you.” Mox replied. “ I will use my magics to make your eye appear normal. I will cast it upon you each morning and it will easily last until the next day. If that fails us, things may become physical. However, it would be foolish of them to attack us. I assure you. Let me know of your decision as soon as you've made it."
 Mox raised her hands, muttered a soft incantation, and vanished in a billowing cloud of black smoke.
____________________________________________________________-


The Castle of Knives, deep in the forest of Thousand Voices in the foothills of the Branthlend Mountains, was nothing like Mox and her companions remembered it. When they’d first come upon the place, it had been little more than a ruin. Now, however, it was a complete structure of sharp towers and confusing architecture of dozens of colors that seemed strangely too vibrant for the surroundings. The entire castle was surrounded by a wrought iron fence that contained a single gate flanked by statues of beautiful women. The statues formed an arch with their raised hands, while in their other hands they each held high a sword that bore a striking resemblance to Briar. As Stevhan neared the gate, he felt a pulse of power from Briar, and simultaneously, the two blades held by the statues momentarily glowed with emerald light. 
“Looks like the place,” Mox smirked. “Shall we?”

One-by-one, the companions passed beneath the arch, and as they did reality transformed around them. When they emerged on the far side, they found themselves, not in the courtyard of the castle, but rather on a narrow path leading into a dense forest. It was twilight, though it had been mid-morning before they had stepped through the gate. The forest hemmed them in oppressively on both sides, and the trees rose up several hundred feet above them. The gloom was alive with cries of fear and fury, sounding at once miles away and just around the corner. The Voices of Thousand Voices spoke of helplessness in a pitiless and unending night. Beyond the screams were other sounds: weeping, singing of children’s rhymes, shouts of anger, feral cries, and howls. There was no doubt in the minds of the heroes of Kardashia that they were very, very far from home.

There seemed no choice but to go forward along the path, deeper into the dark of the forest. It was a narrow, winding trail, no wider than ten feet, and overhung by thorny branches. Time seemed to have no meaning in that strange world. Hours may have passed, yet the twilight seemed unchanged. After an unknown passage, however, the forest cleared, and a broad lake of dark water filled the majority of the resulting glen, leaving a fifteen-foot-wide path around its edge. Dozens of black swans glided along the lake’s surface, apparently unimpressed by the immense but strange silent whirlpool that churned at its center. Along the forest edge, many of the trees seemed to be dying or dead, their twisted branches drooping and their trunks scarred with disease and burns. 
“This looks sort of familiar,” Davrim noted. “Does anyone else feel like we are about to be attacked by giant elementals again?”
“I dunno,” Tungdill offered. “I think them fellas wanna have a go at us first.”
The dwarf nodded towards the woods, were several of the dead, lightning-scarred trees had uprooted themselves and were lumbering forward along the shore. Velox and Davrim instinctively moved forward, swords in hand, but before they could move more than a few paces, an odd thing began to happen. Crackling lines of electricity began gathering among the dead branches of the walking trees. In a matter of seconds, these lines coalesced into coruscating halos around each of them. Then, in a flash, bolts of lightning lanced out, striking the oracle and the inquisitor, and then arcing to each of the companions in turn. They jittered and jerked were they stood before the electricity released them, and by that time the trees were upon them. Velox and Davrim launched themselves forward, somewhat stiff, but no less deadly. Stevhan joined them, and the trio wove a devastating dance among the creatures. They hacked each down in turn like skilled lumberjacks. Finally, when only tree still stood, Mox reduced it to a pile of ash via a coruscating blast of emerald fire from her hand. 
“The blooms,” Selena sighed as the last tree fell. “Please tell me that each of them was not linked to some part of this forest. I think we are in for a long, long journey.”


----------



## carborundum

Awesome! I've been waiting for the Jabberwock to make an appearance for AGES - and it didn't disappoint! 

Fantastic writing as ever JD, thank you sir!


----------



## JollyDoc

Selena was right. As the companions travelled the paths of Thousandbreaths, they lost all concept of time. The paths they walked varied from narrow and overgrown with thorns, to wreathed with strange flowers that seemed to writhe and moved on their own, and exuded a poisonous gas that brought on hallucinations if inhaled for too long. Yet another narrow trail was littered with bloated animal carcasses, while a wide, grassy path was lined with statues of curious creatures that were at once human and animal. The trees had an unsettlingly fleshy look, with parts of people woven or grafted into them, some of which spoke nonsense to the companions as they passed. They did, at one point, try and fly above the tree line, only to find that it always seem to extend just above them no matter how high they flew.  When they would finally have to stop and rest, their dreams were troubled with nightmares, all overshadowed by the great black bird. With Selena’s advice on how to drive the rook off, however, none of the dreams followed them back into the waking world.

Periodically, the group would come upon another glade, and much like the first they’d encountered, each seemed to mirror one of the blooms that had manifested in Kardashia. In one they found a frozen, oversized graveyard with tombstones over ten-feet tall. There they battled a massive, four-limbed frost giant armed with a quartet of razor-sharp axes. Though enraged and fearsome to behold, his threat was greatly lessened once Velox simultaneously disarmed him of all his weapons.  Another glade was a foul-smelling marsh, over a mile across, and  infested by the gargantuan, blood-red mire worms that the heroes had encountered in the bloom in Hooktongue Slough. Still the companions trudged onward through the seemingly endless First World forest.
_____________________________________________________

A mile-wide clearing in the vast forest opened under the twilight sky to make way for a field of jagged hills and thorny plains. A single stone spire rose like a needle nearly a mile skyward…and perched atop it was what appeared to be an immense but motionless crow.
“That’s it…,” Selena whispered to her friends. “The Nightmare Rook.”
As if it heard her speak, the great bird turned its head towards them and spread its mighty wings.
“It’s now or never,” Velox intoned, his eyes glazing over. 
The oracle placed a hand on both Davrim’s and Stevhan’s shoulders. His golden helm flashed brilliantly, and the trio vanished. The others stood dumbstruck. All they could see was the rook. If their friends were atop the spire with it, they were much too far to be viewed. The crow’s wings remained spread, but it did not take flight. Instead it moved with frantic jerks, darting its head downward in violent thrusts. Suddenly, an eerie cry, almost human in its misery, echoed across the glade. There was a blinding flash from the spire’s peak, and then the mighty rook, as if in slow motion, tumbled from the peak, seeming to fall for an eternity before it finally crashed to the ground, unmoving. A moment later the three warriors reappeared, battered and bleeding. Stevhan gripped Briar tightly, and the sword pulsed with power.
“I think we’ll be sleeping a bit more peacefully from now on,” the ranger said.
_______________________________________________________

A day later (or so it seemed), the forest opened into a narrow clearing surrounded by bent, extremely broad trees. At the center of the clearing rose a strange sight…what appeared to be two dozen different houses tangled together in a semi-organized mess, forming a conglomerate building where right angles seemed unwelcome. The smoke that rose from a few of the house’s chimneys indicated that the strange structure was not abandoned. A tangled yard filled with bristly vines and thorns surrounded the cottage. An ebony-skinned hag sat rocking in a large chair on the sagging front porch of the structure, watching the approaching companions through hooded eyes.

“Don’t get many visitors these days,” the old crone cackled in greeting.
“Who are you?” Velox asked cautiously. “Are you an ally of Nyrissa?”
“So forward!” the witch laughed. “As for who I am, well that’s a long story, but you can call me the Knurly Witch. As for Nyrissa, yes, I suppose you could say we’re allies.”
“Then you are our enemy!” the oracle cried, drawing his sword as he started forward.
“Now, now,” the hag said as she rose to her feet. As she did so, her true stature was made evident. She stood well over ten-feet tall, and her nails were as long as claws. Her filed teeth glinted like steel. 
“Let’s not be hasty. Do you think I’d still be alive and living here if I were Nyrissa’s enemy? It’s not like she gave me much of a choice…death, or join her cause. The decision seemed obvious at the time. Why don’t you come inside and have tea with me? We can talk more, and after, if you still feel like killing me, well then I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Without waiting for a response, the Knurly Witch turned and went into the house. Velox turned to Mox and raised his eyebrow questioningly.
“Go ahead,” the Queen nodded. “I’ll stay out here with Reggie. Scream if you need us.”
“I’ll be waitin’ out here to,” Tungdill folded his arms. “I ain’t one to be trustin’ witches…present company excepted.” He nodded at Selena.

Velox, Davrim, Stevhan and Selena made their way up the rickety steps and walked into the house. The interior was just as disorienting as the outside. 
“In here, dearies!” the witch called from the kitchen.
They cautiously stepped in, only to find cups set out for them filled with a vile-smelling, semi-solid concoction. 
“Now then,” the witch said as she sipped at her own cup. “What brings you folk so far from home?”
“We’re here to kill Nyrissa,” Velox said flatly.  “Will you tell us where to find her?”
“She lives in the House at the Edge of Time,” the witch shrugged. “Shouldn’t be hard to find, but tell me, what is your grievance with the Queen?”
“She’s invaded our country,” Velox replied. “Her motives are unknown to us, but that’s beside the point. She has declared war against us, and we are answering in kind.”
“Fascinating,” the hag said distractedly. 
“You don’t seem concerned that we’re going to kill your queen,” Davrim said angrily.
“Do you think you’re the first to come hunting Nyrissa?” the hag asked. “Do you think yours is the first land she’s invaded? No, and it certainly won’t be the last. You’re throwing your lives away. Why not go back to your world and then find a new country to live in? Believe me, it would be much easier.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Stevhan growled. 
“If you’re not going to help us,” Velox added, “then you’re wasting our time.”
The witch waved her hand dismissively. “What can I tell you that you don’t already know? That she’s a fierce warrior who wields a scythe like a dervish? That before you ever reach her home you’ll have to face Ilthuliak, one of the most feared of the legendary great wyrms? You mortals are tiresome and tedious. You’re right, you’d probably best be on your way, but before you go, there’s something I’d like to show you.”
She turned to a cauldron bubbling over the hearth and began mumbling to herself.
“I warn you, witch,” Velox snapped, “if you are conjuring any of your foul magic, I will kill you where you stand!”
The hag ignored him and continued her incantation. The smoke from the cauldron began to swirl and coalesce into two massive shapes, and an instant later, two coal-black, hulking behemoths stood behind the companions. Velox whirled instinctively towards them, but as he turned, the witch laid one hand upon his shoulder. In that instant, his whole body was wracked by agony as ebony energy coursed through him. 
“If you can’t even face me, boy,” the hag sneered, “what hope have you against the Queen?”
As his muscles began to feel like liquid, one of the conjured elementals slammed into Velox, sending him smashing through a flimsy wall. Unfortunately for the Knurly Witch, this left an opening through which Davrim and Stevhan plunged. The inquisitor’s blade was blinding in its speed. The witch was struck multiple times before she could react. She was spun completely around, and as her hands flew up to ward off further blows, Davrim lopped off three of her fingers. She screamed, black blood fountaining from the severed stumps, and as she reeled backwards, Stevhan drove Briar through her shriveled heart. She collapsed into her own cauldron, and her elementals vanished in puffs of acrid black smoke.

“What happened in there?” Mox asked as her companions carried Velox back out of the Knurly House.
“She wasn’t very forthcoming,” Davrim shrugged.
“And she made lousy tea,” Stevhan added.
___________________________________________________________


If the Knurly Witch was to be believed, then all roads through Thousandbreaths led to the House at the Edge of time. This left the companions little choice but to push on as they had been for the past several days. Three more glades they passed through, each with a new and deadlier threat. The first was a smallish clearing lit by ghastly yellow-green light that emanated from dozens of female human heads that hung by their hair from spikes on the edge of a towering beehive-shaped structure. The glow came from their empty eye sockets and gaping mouths, some of which seemed to be twitching and writhing as if in pain. Before the heroes had a chance to fully register the horror of what they were seeing, they were set upon by a half-dozen of the black-pelted smilodons they had encountered at Oleg’s post where they’d faced the barbarous troll. The companions managed to beat back the big cats with little problem, but the shock of the tableau that was the hive only served to impress upon them how fortunate they had been to rescue the young noble girl from the troll when they had.

The second glade was actually somewhat beautiful. A waterfall cascaded between two immense stone hands carved from the peak of a stony cliff, tumbling into a large pool. The pool was crystal clear, its shores thick with reeds and water-flowers of dazzling hue. A number of great trees hung over the water as though trying to protect it from something above. Several large leaves the size of small boats floated near the pool’s shore. Yet, like everything else they’d encountered in the woods, it was a façade that concealed only death. No sooner had they stepped into the clearing, than a pair of the largest owlbears they’d ever seen came flying at them out of the trees. Yes…flying! The gargantuan creatures had feathered wings sprouting from their backs, and they, like the rest of the creatures, were coal black. Yet, for all their size and ferocity, Davrim and Stevhan managed to take one of them down solely with their bows, while Reggie, at Mox’s command, flew into the air to meet the second. The two beasts grappled in the sky for several savage moments before plummeting into the pool. Only Reggie emerged.

The third glade consisted of a thirty-foot high brick wall that encircled a large clearing. Within, the riot of growth continued, but as a tangle of mushrooms and fungus rather than actual leafy plants. Bulbs of brightly colored fruits the size of a man’s head hung from or grew on the trunks of many of the mushrooms, many of which twitched and pulsed as if something within were attempting to escape. The thing that immediately caught the attention of the companions, however, was the hideous, infantile mewling that filled the glade. They immediately thought of the savage mandragoras swarms they had encountered in the bloom in Kardashia. They weren’t disappointed. Hundreds upon hundreds of the horrid little creatures came out of the undergrowth, but instead of attacking, they began climbing over each other, quickly building their mass up and spreading their malleable bodies apart and together until they’d formed a single, forty-foot-tall mandragora! It took the combined magic of Selena, Mox and Velox to bring the hulking thing down, but the heroes were forced to flee the glade as thousands more of the mandragoras closed in on them from the fungi forest.
 __________________________________________________________


The final glade that the companions came to (though they did not know it was the last) consisted of a grassy field in which thousands of stone statues lay crumbled. At the center of the clearing rose a low but strangely round hill, atop which rose a three-hundred-foot high tower of white stone with a peak consisting of three conical rooftops. An immense archway gaped at the base of the tower, wide and tall enough for a pair of elephants to walk through side by side. The hill and structure stood before a single path that led out of the glade into the forest once more, almost like a gatehouse of some sort. Even before the heroes lifted their eyes towards the top of the spire, they knew what they would see there, for they had seen the same vision when the First World army had attacked Veritas. And there she was…Ilthuliak, the great black wyrm, already winging her way towards them.

As the dragon drew near, a cloud of mist began to form around the companions. Within seconds, it had grown to a large fog blank which completely enveloped them, and constricted around them, almost as if it were semi-solid. Worse, as the misty tendrils touched their skin, it began to burn like acid. 
“Everyone scatter!” Mox shouted into the mist. “Don’t stay bunched together! We’re sitting ducks!”
Her allies didn’t need to be told twice. They all remembered when Reggie had still been alive, and had trapped them in the middle of a small, acid lake. One after another they emerged from the fog, only to see the wyrm hovering above them, her wings beating like a cyclone. Selena raised her hands above her head and a column of white fire roared into the sky, but Ilthuliak moved like a coiled serpent, wheeling away from the flames without so much as a singe. Mox sent a barrage of arcane bolts towards her, but they bounced harmlessly off her ebony scales. Cursing, she turned to Reggie and commanded him into the air. The undead dragon flapped his wings clumsily and rose towards Ilthuliak, yet though he was equal in size to the female wyrm, he was no longer the dragon he used to be. His rotting teeth bit down upon her neck, but broke off as if he’d bitten iron. Ilthuliak snorted in disgust and batted the zombie away from her like a bothersome insect. 

From the ground below, Velox saw the futility of their attacks. As long as Ilthuliak stayed aloft, they would be easy prey. He had to take the attack to her. He closed his eyes and felt Iomedae’s power fill him. A pair of feathered white wings sprouted from his back and his golden helmet flashed. An instant later, he was beside the great wyrm, eye to eye. She roared, and her hot, fetid breath filled his nostrils. Her teeth snapped down on his thigh, holding him in place, and her clawed fingers moved as if she were casting a spell. A moment later, three scorching tendrils of flame struck his chest, setting his tunic ablaze. Her other claw came slashing across him, sending him tumbling away, but not before her tail slapped at him like a mighty tentacle. The oracle’s wings extended and he managed to right himself, but not Ilthuliak sent another blast of magic at him, causing him to feel his muscles weaken and his strength ebb. Still, not for nothing had Velox been chosen by Iomedae as her divine vessel. He took a moment to gather himself, and the dove towards the wyrm, his sword blazing with holy fire. The dragon struck at him, but the oracle seemed to move in a blur of speed. His blade swept across her foreleg, opening a deep gash. She drew away, but before she could get clear, Velox struck again…and again! He nearly severed one of her wings with one strike, and with the next, the sheer force of his blow sent Ilthuliak tumbling away from him. She shrieked in pain and fear as Velox drove at her again and buried his sword in her throat. She spun almost lazily to the ground as she died, and just like that, the way to the House at the Edge of Time lay open.


----------



## carborundum

Go Velox!!!


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## Joachim

carborundum said:


> Go Velox!!!




Divine Vessel is a crazy-good spell.


----------



## Abciximab

JollyDoc said:


> Thanks, you guys! I really do appreciate your feedback. I enjoy writing the SH's, though occasionally, I get a bit of writer's block. After Kingmaker, we're actually going to be starting Serpent's Skull, wherein our heroes will all be well and truly...EVIL!! Some of them will even have ties to events in Kingmaker!




Uh, oh. I'm currently a player in a Serpent Skull Campaign... Might have to wait a while to read it if there is a SH. It's good so far, I think we're about to wrap book 1.

My character in Serpent Skull is from the kingdom that was built in our Kingmaker Campaign.


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## JollyDoc

Abciximab said:


> Uh, oh. I'm currently a player in a Serpent Skull Campaign... Might have to wait a while to read it if there is a SH. It's good so far, I think we're about to wrap book 1.
> 
> My character in Serpent Skull is from the kingdom that was built in our Kingmaker Campaign.




It's funny you say that, because there is going to be one VERY important link back to Kingmaker in our Serpent's Skull campaign. And speaking of that...OMG! Last night we officially wrapped Kingmaker and the one-shot high-level adventure after. Let me just say...Kardashia is NEVER going to be the same!


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## JollyDoc

THE HOUSE AT THE EDGE OF TIME


At the heart of Thousandbreaths lay the House at the Edge of Time. It sat at the center of an isle in a large lake atop a mesa. On one side, it overlooked a panorama of the forest itself, while the other side looked out over time and space…an endless gulf of stars and blackness. The lake spilled over the edge of the mesa in two places, to the left and right, forming the twin nameless rivers that framed Thousandbreaths and eventually met again at the Whirling Lake. The House appeared to be accessible via a long stone causeway that connected its island to the mesa’s edge. A gatehouse flanked by towers guarded the entrance beyond the bridge, while in the courtyard beyond, tall dark trees rose and rustled in the constant soft breeze. Hundreds of windows stared out of the House itself, and stone angels hung from every gable. The outline of the structure was as beautiful as it was dangerous, with knife-like crenellations, spear-topped towers, and eaves and shingles made of blades. 

The companions started across the causeway, fully aware that their every move was no doubt being observed, but resigned to their course just the same. Sure enough, when they had reached roughly the halfway point, the waters of the lake exploded upward in a geyser as a huge form erupted into the sky. At least superficially, the enormous creature resembled a dragon, save that it had two heads and flew despite the fact that it had no wings. 
“I am Tarlaxian, the Linnorm of the Lake!” the monster roared. “My Lady bids you both welcome and farewell! She is honored that you have come so far, yet saddened that your journey has been for naught, for it ends here!”
‘I am with you,’ Stevhan heard Briar’s voice in his mind. 
He had been steadily feeling the sword’s power grow ever since they had entered Thousandbreaths, as if it were preparing for this final confrontation. He felt as if he and the blade were becoming one on some level. Gripping the hilt firmly in both hands, he raced across the causeway. One of Tarlaxian’s heads snapped at him as he came, and as its teeth pierced his flesh, they burned like acid. He could feel his flesh dissolving beneath the wound, yet he did not falter. He dodged the second head and drove forward with Briar. The enchanted blade pierced the linnorm’s scaly chest as if it was naked skin, and the creature didn’t merely roar in agony, it literally shrieked.  Tarlaxian pawed at his chest, wrenching the sword free as he recoiled. Then, both maws opened simultaneously and spewed great gouts of acid towards the heroes. Stevhan was still too close, and so it was Davrim and Velox who took the brunt of the blasts, though Davrim’s cat-like reflexes allowed him to avoid the worst of them. Mox was also caught in the spray, but the sorceress’s own draconic bloodline rendered her impervious to the caustic flood. Velox, who’d been in mid-charged, was forced to his knees by the deluge. Behind him, Tungdill rose into the air in his cyclonic, elemental form. As he did so, lightning churned within the vortex, growing in intensity until it lanced out in a massive storm bolt. Tarlaxian went rigid as the bolt struck, conducted even more quickly through his body by virtue of the fact that part of him was still in contact with the lake. Davrim took that moment to move in closer. Bow in hand, he fired two rapid shots. One of the arrows flew straight through the wound Briar had already opened, and managed to puncture one of the linnorm’s lungs. Tarlaxian wheezed as he coughed out a fountain of blood from one of his throats. Davrim dropped his bow as he ran forward, drawing his sword simultaneously. The linnorm tried to head him off, whipping his serpentine tail at the inquisitor’s legs. Davrim leaped over it, and slashed both of Tarlaxian’s throats as he landed. The two-headed linnorm sank silently back into the lake, the water turning crimson as he vanished beneath the surface. 

 ________________________________________________________________

At the far end of the causeway, the shining gatehouse barred entry into the courtyard of the large building with a lowered portcullis. In the walls above, arrow slits leered down while a solid smooth wall some forty feet high extended away from the gatehouse in both directions to two more towers. Davrim showed no hesitation in marching up to the lowered gate and grasping the bars in his gloved hand. Instantly, the iron began to dissolve, leaving a hole large enough for a man to pass through.

“Nice job, boy,” Tungdill said dryly, “but I think them fellas ain’t too impressed.”
Davrim moved back towards his companions and followed their gaze up towards the battlements. Standing silently atop the wall were no less than a dozen figures. At first glance, they looked like elves. They were clad in black leather armor, and bore rapiers at their hips. But the unnatural green glow that each one emanated, not to mention the translucency of their flesh, revealed them to be something far more sinister. The house guards had once been members of an ancient elven community that formerly dwelled in the Stolen Lands, but they were abducted and executed by Nyrissa in a foul ritual that transformed their souls into undead minions enslaved to the nymph’s every whim. Now, as they gazed down upon the trespassers into their Queen’s domain, their only imperative was to snuff the lives of the intruders just as theirs had been so long ago. In unison, their mouths yawned wide, and a mournful wailing filled the air.
“Well that’ll be enough of that!” Tungdill growled.
The druid waved his hand, and a curtain of fire erupted along the battlements, engulfing over half of the ghostly soldiers. Their keening became piercing as the arcane fire burned even their incorporeal flesh.
“I completely agree,” Mox said. “I prefer to announce my presence in my own way.”
A glowing, transparent sword appeared in her hand, which she then flung towards the battlements. It flew straight and true, and seemed to take on a life of its own as it reached the ghosts and began to hack into them as if they were still alive and hale.

Velox’s eyes clouded over, but instead of turning towards the spirit guardians, he instead looked past the portcullis to the courtyard, where something else had caught his attention. Without a word, he ran through the gate, his sword in hand. Davrim and Stevhan watched him go, then looked at one another questioningly. They glanced back at their other friends.
“You think they can handle this?” Davrim asked.
Stevhan smiled as he looked at his wife. “I think they’ve got it covered.”
The inquisitor nodded, and then the two warriors followed their general into the courtyard. They didn’t get far until they saw exactly what had drawn Velox’s eye. The large courtyard was a two-tiered region covered with thick grass. Paths wound to and from various doors, and a single, wide flight of stairs allowed easy access to the courtyard’s second tier, where several towering oak trees loomed over the main body of the house. Atop the second tier, something massive had awakened. Resembling an enormous lizard composed entirely of organic matter, the beast shook loose soil from its earthy wings and exhaled dirt particles with every breath.
“Gods…,” Stevhan breathed. “It’s a zomok! I never believed they existed!”
“Well believe it now!” Davrim shouted. “What in the Hells is it?”
“They’re also called plant dragons,” the ranger replied. “They are said to be defenders of nature, but they are not choosey about how or whom they defend it from.”
As if in response, the zomok opened its gaping maw and exhaled a blast of flying dirt, bark, stones and moss that completely engulfed the three warriors.

Back outside the courtyard walls, the spectral warriors had  launched their counterattack. En masse, they leaped from the battlements and drifted down to the ground. They landed all around Mox, Selena and Tungdill, and as soon as they did so, they reached out their long-nailed fingers and began to touch the companions. Each touch was like a jolt of electricity as it caressed the skin of the living. Mox flung herself away from the spirits, breathe acid on them as she withdrew, but the creatures moved with incredible swiftness and managed to avoid the brunt of the spew. Tungdill chose fire for his defense, weaving a snake of flames that wound among the dead elves, giving them pause and buying him a few precious seconds.

Velox, Davrim and Stevhan finally managed to extricate themselves from the debris field  created by the zomok’s breath, but by that time, the creature was bearing down on them. Velox extended his palm and a blast of searing light hammered into the plant dragon. It roared in fury, enraged by the use of its ancient nemesis fire. Stevhan charged forward, Briar glowing brightly. As he struck, the mystic blade flared even brighter, and where it carved into the zomok’s plant-like hide, the vegetation simply shriveled and died. The beast roared again, striking out blindly in its pain. One rock-like claw opened a large gash across Stevhan’s chest, but as he spun away from the attack, Davrim and Velox charged in. The oracle struck, and his sword tore a rent completely through one of the zomok’s wings, while Davrim thrust and slashed repeatedly with his own blade. The zomok spewed forth its terrible breath once more, but by that time, the trio was widely separated, and it could not bring the full fury of the blast to bear upon them all. Stevhan struck one last time, and Briar unleashed its blight a second time. The zomok howled piteously as it collapsed upon itself and died. 

At the gate, a life and death struggle still raged. Tungdill and the sorceresses had managed to destroy a few of the ghosts through a combination of Mox’s arcane sword, magic missile barrages from Selena, and unrelenting blasts of fire from the druid himself. Still, every touch by the spirits sucked a little more life out of the trio. Then, in the next moment, Velox, Davrim and Stevhan charged back through the portcullis. Stevhan saw his wife surrounded by spectral elves, and charged blindly in. Mox saw his mistake, and his danger immediately. Though the ranger was heavily armored, this counted as nothing to the ghosts, whose hands could pass through metal as easily as water. Mox had only just barely been holding her own thanks to the mystic enchantments she wove about herself each day. Now, as the spirits turned their attention on Stevhan, they struck him at will, beating him to the ground in a matter of seconds. Mox rushed to his side and grabbed him by the arm. A moment later, they vanished in a flash of light. Meanwhile, Davrim and Velox waded into the melee, and though their swords were only partially able to touch the incorporeal bodies of the spirits, it was more than enough. In short order, the tide of battle turned. Within a matter of minutes the last of the ghosts had been dispatched, and the way forward was clear.
____________________________________________________________

Velox and Mox agreed that the front door to the house was a much too obvious a choice. Instead, they entered the gatehouse, and from there they were able to get into one of the towers, and then inside the inner walls themselves. The rooms and chambers they passed through were a mind-numbing study in contrasts. While one room was clean and bright, with liveried spectral servants and gaiety, another was collapsing and decayed. Some chambers had been damaged by the arrival of the heroes who slew Nyrissa yesterday, and would also do so tomorrow in that world of the impossible. Yet as strange as the warpings were, stranger still was the fact that they remained constant, as if a storm of fractured time had torn through the structure, only to be frozen forever in the middle of a chaos of a hundred different eras.

They came to a room that was dominated by a domed cage, its verdigris-encrusted surface caked with mud. A black bear stood lifelessly within they cage. A rubble-choked hall extended from one side of the room. It was yet another in a series of bizarre tableaus, but as the companions passed through the chamber, the bear lumbered onto its hind legs and began a slow, but strangely graceful dance, made all the more grotesque by the fact that the bear was obviously dead. Though disconcerting, it seemed ultimately harmless, and so they ignored it, as they’d done all the other strangeness they’d seen thus far. 

A small door at the far side of the room gave onto a richly decorated, cathedral-like chamber that appeared to be almost new. Turquoise tiles adorned the walls, with a false gallery hanging some ten feet above the tiled floor. An ornate wooden bridge crossed the chamber thirty feet above the floor, connecting doors on the building’s second floor. Incredible paintings covered the ceiling, depicting animals in sylvan scenes. The first scene showed a wolf in a forest with a child’s severed hand clenched in its jaws. The second depicted a great viper approaching a crib, while the third showed a huge bear stalking a mother and child. An archway decorated with a scene of a dragon eating a mounted knight at one end of the room opened to a great iron spiral staircase leading upward, while at the other end of the hall sat a regal throne made of marble shot through with green veins. Two statues of beautiful women wielding upraised swords stood behind the throne, while a long purple carpet ran the length of the room. Numerous chairs and benches lined the walls. 

Kneeling before the throne was the most beautiful creature the companions had ever seen…so much so that it was actually painful to look upon him. Superficially, he looked like a human male, but he was at least seven-feet-tall when he rose to his feet, and large, feathered white wings grew naturally from his shoulders. He wore a full-length white robe, and had a great-sword belted at his waist.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said in a voice like crystalline wind chimes. “You do not understand the affairs in which you meddle.”
“He’s…a deva!” Velox exclaimed. “A member of the angelic choir!”
“Precisely,” the angel replied. “So my presence here should tell you that there are powers in play here that are beyond your ability to comprehend.”
“Then explain it to us,” Mox said coldly. “Explain why the Powers would deign to concern themselves with the doings of mere mortals such as us. Why would the Heavens want to participate in the destruction of our kingdom?”
“You have been warned,” the angel said, his voice iron, his face darkening.
“Davrim,” Mox turned to the inquisitor, “what do you sense?”
Davrim focused his attention on the deva, attempting to read his aura.
“He’s pure,” Davrim acknowledged. “He is what he appears to be.”
“Then he’s been ensorcelled,” Mox said. “Tungdill, can you dispel the enchantment?”
“I’ll give it a try,” the dwarf shrugged.
He spoke a few guttural words, and power radiated from him in a wave.
“That will be enough of that!” the angel roared. “I have offered you mercy and your lives, but I will tolerate no assault upon my person! You shall not be allowed to interfere here further!”
The angel waved his hand and a wall of whirling blades appeared out of thin air. Tungdill cried out as the steel shards tore into his flesh. Selena and Davrim leaped aside just in time, ending up separated from their companions.
“That’s proof enough!” Mox shouted. “He’s another of Nyrissa’s pawns! Destroy him!”

Mox hurled a blistering bombardment of arcane bolts at the angel, but the missiles were deflected by some unseen force before they ever came near him. Simultaneously, Selena unleashed a lance of destructive power, but an almost casual wave of the deva’s hand dissipated the spell in mid-air. Suddenly, a massive explosion of fire detonated in the center of the throne room, engulfing Selena, Tungdill and Mox.
“That didn’t come from the deva!” Davrim shouted. “Velox, do something!”
The oracle was lost in his battle trance, but he was already ahead of the half-orc. He wove a spell, and a ripple of magic emanated from him, intended to reveal anything hidden or invisible within the chamber. There, hovering some twenty feet above the throne, a strange figure was revealed. It looked like nothing so much as a swarm of scarlet worms that maintained the general shape of a man clothed in black robes.
“By the Old Crone…!” Selena breathed from where she lay on the floor, her gown still smoldering. “A worm-that-walks! I’ve only ever heard of one in existence, and that was the arch-mage Kyuss, but he was destroyed decades ago!”
The Wriggling Man, as the creature was called, did not recall his life before his death, save that he was once a powerful human wizard who had come to the First World for a now-forgotten mission. That he failed in this mission seemed obvious, for it was after his failure and death that his mind and spirit infested the worms that fed upon his rotten remains, and he was reborn. He now served as Nyrissa’s personal advisor, and his mistress had tasked him with stopping the bearers of Briar at all costs.
“Whatever it is,” Mox hissed, “I’ll bet it still burns!”
 She opened her mouth, and her eyes became slitted and yellow as she breathed a blast of acid at the worm thing. To her utter amazement, the mass of writhing worms seemed to split, allowing the acid blast to pass harmlessly through its mass. The Wriggling Man was preparing to retaliate, when Velox abruptly appeared in the air beside him. In an eye blink, the mage turned his assault on the oracle, blasting him first with ribbons of scorching fire, and then sending a shimmering bean of green energy at him. When the ray touched Velox, it simply dissolved a sizeable chunk of flesh from his arm. For a moment, his battle trance flickered as the incredible pain registered in his psyche, but then Iomedae seized him once more.

Davrim still had his eye on the angel. He simply could not wrap his mind around the possibility that a divine servant could be willingly serving evil. As he approached the deva, the angel drew his blade and charged towards him. Davrim blocked the blow…barely, but he felt the impact down to his toes. He countered and swung his own blade in a low arc, but at the last instant, he flipped the sword so that it was the flat that struck the deva. The angel leaped into the air, and Davrim swiped at him again, but his momentum carried him over the blade barrier and out of the inquisitor’s reach. 

Tungdill, his skin screaming from cuts and burns, hauled himself to his feet. He reached out a hand to help Selena to hers as well.
“So what do you know about that critter?” he nodded towards the Wriggling Man. “What’s it take to kill’im?”
“It’s a composite creature,” the witch replied, “so it does no good to attack him as you would an individual. You must use magic that engulfs him as a whole.”
“Gotcha,” the dwarf nodded. “Like this?”
With a word, he conjured a column of white fire beneath the Wriggling Man.  The mage groaned as pain filled him for the first time in as long as he could remember.
“Yes, exactly like that,” Selena smiled. “This might work as well.”
She crossed two fingers and a bolt of lightning arced through the air. The Wriggling Man’s body jittered and shook, and then suddenly, he simply vanished.”

Velox looked about him in all directions, trying to see if the mage had simply adjusted his position. Instead he saw the deva closing in on an unsuspecting Mox and Stevhan. The oracle darted down towards the floor and landed directly in front of the angel, who immediately raised his sword to strike. Though full in the throes of his battle trance, Velox to could not bring himself to kill the being. Instead, he looped his own blade under the angel’s and stripped it from his hand, sending it flying several yards away. The deva didn’t stop. He darted around the oracle and made for the door through which the companions had first entered the throne room. There in the doorway was the dead, dancing bear, still cavorting mindlessly. Before Velox could register what was happening, the angel slammed his fist into the bear’s chest, and as he did so, the bear exploded in a massive conflagration that filled the entire throne room. Velox threw himself to the floor, and the bulk of the blast passed over him. He then surged to his feet and threw himself at the deva, hammering the pommel of his sword into the back of the angel’s skull. The being collapsed, stunned.

“He’s still here somewhere,” Velox spoke, though his words were in tongues. “I can sense him.”
He moved towards a set of doors at the far side of the chamber as his companions struggled to regain their composure from the explosion. Throwing open the doors revealed a short hallway with more doors opening off either side. Moving quickly, Velox opened the nearest portal. The walls of the high-ceilinged room beyond were fractured, and the elements had rushed in. The chamber had clearly once been some sort of washroom with stone walls and numerous tubs, but the place was currently a shambles. As Velox was pulling the door shut again, he saw the debris in the room begin to shift, moving up into the air, seemingly of its own accord, in a spiraling column. Within moments, three more such columns were forming, and it was only then that the oracle realized what he was seeing, for he’d seen something similar ever since he’d known Tungdill. They were air elementals…big ones. He slammed the door shut again, but it was already too late. As he sprinted back towards the throne room, the doors blew open behind him as first one, then another of the elementals emerged into the hallway, fast on his heels. 
“Watch out!” he shouted a warning in the tongue of the Celestials to his allies.
Tungdill turned at the sound of his voice, and his eyes went wide as the first of the elementals roared into the throne room. The whirling vortex caught the dwarf before he knew what was happening, and slammed him into a wall…hard. He both heard and felt his ribs snap, and he knew from his sudden inability to breathe properly that he’d most likely punctured a lung. Velox turned and ran back to help his friend. Davrim at his side. The pair hit the elemental like a force of nature unto themselves, and within seconds, their flashing blades shredded the creature. That didn’t prevent the second elemental from blowing into the chamber like a miniature cyclone. Cursing, Velox conjured a firewall across the doorway, hoping to prevent the other two from following. Mox exhaled a blast of acid on the outsider, and at the same time Tungdill, still wheezing from his injury, sent a bolt of lightning into the elemental, burning it to a cinder from the inside out.

From the shadows on the far side of the throne room, the Wriggling Man watched the melee with amusement. He loathed the elementals. They had torn him apart on more than one occasion in a most embarrassing manner. Now, however, they were occupying the mortals nicely. He stepped into the room and began weaving a spell. An arc of electricity leaped from his hands to Mox, and then bounced to each of the other intruders in turn. If he had a mouth, the mage would have smiled. 

“Selena! Tungdill!” Mox cried out as she struggled to get her muscles back under control after the electric jolt. “Follow my lead!”
The Queen returned her own lightning bolt at the Wriggling Man, and in rapid succession, Selena hurled twin fireballs, and Tungdill conjured another column of fire. The worm-that-walked shrieked and writhed as his body was consumed. Davrim and Velox charged him, and began hacking pieces off of him as he burned. 
“Stand aside!” Mox commanded, and when the two warriors moved, she breathed fire as hot as magma upon the Wriggling Man, dissolving him into a pile of ash.

Velox moved to his fire wall, and when Davrim and Stevhan nodded their readiness, he dispelled the barrier. When the remaining two elementals rushed out, the warriors were ready, and it was only a matter of moments for them to completely destroy the outsiders. It was only when calm and quiet had returned to the chamber, that the companions noticed that the deva was gone.


----------



## carborundum

Leave it to our guys to fight everything at once 

Awesome fight folks - an excellent update, thank you!


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## JollyDoc

carborundum said:


> Leave it to our guys to fight everything at once
> 
> Awesome fight folks - an excellent update, thank you!




The next update, which I hope to post by this weekend, will be the finale of Kingmaker. Then, I have one more post for our add-on Legacy of the Witchwar one-shot(the outcome of which has to be seen to be believed). After that are the epilogues. We just started our new Serpent's Skull campaign last night. PC's so far include a half-Orc Hellknight summoner, a half-Orc alchemist, a half-Orc priest of the Whispering Way, a female half-Orc bard, a half- Orc barbarian, and a human magus. Stay tuned!!


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## Colmarr

JollyDoc said:


> PC's so far include a half-Orc Hellknight summoner, a half-Orc alchemist, a half-Orc priest of the Whispering Way, a female half-Orc bard, a half- Orc barbarian, and a human magus. Stay tuned!!




** Blink ** ** Blink **

That's a lot of half-orcs!


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## carborundum

Can't wait to read the finale... and the one-shot... and the Serpent's Skull SH 

There will be a Story Hour, right? I mean, will there be a Story Hour good sir? Who's playing what character this time? I'm looking forward to what you guys make of the Summoner and Magus. I made a few Skinwalker Magi for my STAP campaign using the Super Genius Games feat pdf. Absolutely ass-kicking class!


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## Joachim

Current Serpent's Skull PC's and their Kingmaker characters:

Master Summoner - Velox (me)

Undead Lord Cleric - Davrim

Barbarian - Selena

Alchemist - Tungdill

Arcane Duelist Bard - Stevhan

Hexblade Magus - Mox

I really like the summoning aspect of the summoner, and have never really liked the Eidolon mechanics and how making one turned into an exercise of 'how many natural attacks can I give this guy'.  When I saw the details on the Master Summoner archetype I was 100% sold (I was already planning on having a non-combat eidolon anyway, and the ability to have multiple summons on the field was too enticing).


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## JollyDoc

QUEEN OF THE NIGHTTIME WORLD

“Is it over?” a small voice squeaked from behind the throne.
“You have one chance to show yourself,” Mox snarled, “before I melt that chair to slag and you with it!”
Cautiously, a small figure emerged from the shadows. It had thin, leathery wings, small horns, and seemed to be made of solidified water. 
“What in the Hells are you supposed to be?” Tungdill growled.
“It’s a mephit,” Selena explained. “A water mephit, to be exact.”
“Who are you?” Mox demanded.
“Pludock,” the mephit chirped. 
“Do you serve Nyrissa?” Mox asked.
Pludock looked around nervously.
“Shhhh!” he shushed. “She can hear us!”
“Where…is…she!?” Mox all but screamed.
Pludock gulped. “The Fable,” he whispered.
“And where would that be?” Mox pressed.
“I’d better not say,” the mephit gulped. Apparently he saw death waiting in Mox’s eyes, for he started babbling a moment later. “It’s a chamber high above that allows her to control everything in the House, and watch over every room! Oops!” 
Pludock clamped his hands over his mouth, and his eyes grew wide. An instant later, he simply exploded.
“Guess he was tellin’ the truth,” Tungdill shrugged. 
“Come on,” Mox snapped. “Let’s keep moving. He said she’s above. We’ll keep going up.”

________________________________________________________________

The companions made their way up the huge spiral staircase, and emerged into a huge and ornate chamber that had fallen into terrible decay. The ceiling was vaulted, with supports carved to resemble serpentine dragons holding great beams aloft. Seven statues of a beautiful woman holding a sword or posing in a seductive way stood against the walls, along with several chairs and tables. Two long tables with benches sat in the middle of the room astride a large marble statue of a snakelike dragon. No sooner had the group set foot in the room, however, than they were set upon by a pair of enormous two-legged dragons. They were wyverns, but their tongues were long and barbed. Their initial glee at seeing new prey literally walk into their lair was quickly replaced by panic when Mox assumed the form of a great red dragon. The battle didn’t last long once Stevhan added his bow, and Davrim and Velox flew into the air to engage the wyverns face-to-face.
___________________________________________________________

After that, Mox decided it was best if they split up to cover more territory. There were two exits from the great hall. Velox and Tungdill took one, while Davrim and Stevhan took the other. Selena and Mox stayed in the hall, to better assist whomever would inevitably get into trouble first. The oracle and the druid only found a series of empty guestrooms. The ranger and the inquisitor, however, found more than they bargained for. The door they chose gave onto a walkway overlooking the throne room below. A second door on the far side led to a suite of what seemed like private chambers. A beautiful woman stood with her back to the first door they opened. At first, Davrim thought they’d somehow stumbled directly into Nyrissa herself, but then the woman turned around. Her beauty was horribly marred by the fact that there were two gaping holes where her eyes should have been. Then, all of the other doors in the suite opened simultaneously, and seven more of the defaced women strode out into the hall. Nyrissa once counted these nymphs, for that was what they  were, as her sisters and friends. Their beauty rivaled her own, but when Nyrissa suffered at the hands of the eldest, those eight did as well. Nyrissa had the Nightmare Rook pluck out their eyes. 

Despite that fact, the beauty of the nymphs was still such that those who gazed upon them ran the risk of being struck blind. Add to that the devastating magic the fey had at their command, and Nyrissa had chosen her personal bodyguards well. Before Davrim and Stevhan knew what was happening, the nymphs unleashed blast after blast of unholy fire. The warriors were driven back onto the bridge under the power of the onslaught, but then the draconic head of Mox drove through the far door and unleashed her own fiery apocalypse. Within moments, Selena, Velox and Tungdill had reunited with their allies, and the battle was joined in full. However, when Selena, Stevhan and Tungdill were all blinded by the nymphs’ beauty, all seemed lost. Tungdill quickly managed to heal his own affliction, and Velox blanketed the area in a fog cloud so that no one else would be afflicted, while Selena and Stevhan retreated to safety. Then Davrim and Velox went to work. The fey were not equal to the inquisitor and the oracle hand-to-hand, and in short order, several of them lay dead or dying. The rest fell to the combined power of Mox and Selena, once Tungdill had healed her as well, and a barrage of fire and lightning.
__________________________________________________________

After Tungdill dealt with Stevhan’s blindness, the companions set about exploring the suite of rooms the nymphs had been guarding. After all, if Nyrissa had left the chambers that well protected, there must be something there she didn’t want found. Tungdill and Selena walked from room to room searching for magical auras, only to be nearly overwhelmed by the power radiating from, of all things, a simple looking bed. 
“This is some powerful conjuration,” Tungdill muttered. “Strongest I’ve ever seen. I think it’s a portal of some kind, or the link to one. Seems like…,” he bent to examine the bed more closely, “…ya have to picture…something…in yer head in order to activate it.”
“Picture what?” Mox asked.
“Umm…,” the dwarf actually blushed. “Ya know…doin’ somethin’ that ya would normally do…in a bed…with somebody else…ya know?”
“Yes, I think we get it,” Mox said. “Everyone gather around. Now focus the image in your minds…,”

A dizzying moment later, the companions found themselves somewhere else. It was another bedchamber, well appointed, and lit by ever burning torches. There was no way out.
“Where are we?” Davrim asked.
“Somewhere else,” Selena replied. “If I had to guess, I’d say we’re in some sort of pocket dimension. The mephit said that Nyrissa was ‘above.’ Perhaps this Fable he spoke of is not literally above, in an upper layer of the house, but figuratively.” 
“Then where is Nyrissa?” Mox asked, exasperated.
The witch shrugged. “Not here, obviously, but pocket dimensions don’t work like normal space. This may be but one part of it. There may be others. I sense that we can return back to the original bedchamber by merely picturing it. I recommend we do so, and continue our search. Perhaps we can find another port key.”
_____________________________________________________________

The companions returned to the private suite, and from there, continued deeper into the house. They found another stairwell which led to a third floor. The series of rooms they discovered there, however, were a tangle of rubble, stones and thick, creeping vines and plants that had grown riotously throughout. A large number of damaged or destroyed statues of all manner of creatures lay strewn about the place as well.

As they began making their way through the shambles, a figure suddenly appeared at the far end of one hallway. It looked to be a woman in form, but her skin was gray and scaled like that of a reptile, and a nest of snakes grew from her head where her hair should have been. Two particularly large serpents hung down from either side of her skull like a pair of tentacles. This was Phomandala, once a medusa who was a former ally of Nyrissa’s. When the great tane, the Jabberwock, came for Nyrissa, she miraculously survived the attack, and also managed to collect some of the creature’s blood. She ultimately used that blood to create a lesser version of the creature, the self-same that she sent to attack Veritas, but her first attempts at creation were less than successful. All but one of her experiments died…Phomandala. Now the tane-infused medusa had become a powerful sorceress in her own right, and had been tasked by her mistress to defend this run with her life if necessary. 

It seemed, however, that Nyrissa had failed to warn her minion just who, exactly, she was dealing with. No sooner had Phomandala stepped from cover, than Velox appeared in a flash of light behind her, his helm glowing like a small sun. The medusa was nothing if not resourceful, however. She spun, serpent-quick, and hurled scorching blasts of fire at the oracle. She then turned and filled the hallway where the rest of the companions were advancing, with a blast of arctic cold. A moment later, she darted through a door into a side chamber. Mox rushed after her, and just as the medusa was about to flee through a second door, the sorceress fired an emerald beam into her back. In an instant, Phomandala was reduced to a pile of ash.
___________________________________________________________

It soon became obvious just what Phomandala was protecting, when the companions found a well-lit room beyond the ruined chambers that was something between a laboratory and a library. Numerous large tomes sat upon sagging shelves along the walls, and several tables were covered with notes and strange schematics. Scattered among the papers were several fragmentary notes which seemed to have been written by Nyrissa herself. The truths revealed therein shocked the heroes to their core. When Nyrissa survived the attack by the Jabberwock, she did not escape the wrath of the Eldest. Instead, she fell right into their hands. Their judgment was swift. They tore from her mind and spirit her capacity to love, coalesced these powerful and deadly emotions into physical reality in the shape of the blade now known as Briar, and then cast the sword into the Material Plane where the nature of reality would hide it forever beyond Nyrissa’s sight. As the ages past, Nyrissa became more and more obsessed wither her loss of love, or perhaps it was this loss that caused her to become more violent and obsessed. In her early attempts to discover Briar’s location, she received visions and prophecies that Briar would be returned to her, but only as an instrument of her own death, wielded in the hands of a mortal hero. 
Subsequently, Nyrissa began the long task of shaping Thousandbreaths and wearing down the boundaries between it and the Material Plane, so that someday the boundary between realities would crack, and the region known as the Stolen Lands would bloom with life as it and Thousandbreaths merged. The war between Pitax and Kardashia was but one step towards this goal. By weakening the kingdoms that occupied the land she wished to claim, she weakened the opposition to her goal. With both kingdoms reeling in the aftermath of the war, Nyrissa would be able to draw the Stolen Lands into her realm and bottle it, leaving a wasteland on the Material Plane, and giving her the perfect gift to present to the Eldest and repair the damage done to her reputation in their eyes.
One final piece of information the heroes found confirmed their suspicions about the Fable. There were indeed other port keys, including the throne in the throne room. According to the notes, this would take them to the chamber within the Fable from which Nyrissa could see and hear everything that transpired in her home. 

All of this Nyrissa witnessed and heard. She knew that the prophecies were drawing nigh, and that if her former glory was to be reclaimed, she would have to alter the very fates themselves. She sent out her thoughts to all her remaining minions, calling them to the throne room. Yes, the hour was upon her, and she would show the Eldest that she was truly worthy of being numbered among their order.
__________________________________________________________

When the companions reached the throne room again, they found that they were expected. A dozen more of the ghostly elven guards they’d encountered at the gatehouse stood around the perimeter of the chamber. Then, four enormous shadows seemingly detached themselves from the walls. Cloaked by wings of darkness, the horrific, skeletal aliens appeared to be burning from within, a flaming glow shining through their emaciated chests. Among the gaunt beings’ most prominent features were shimmering black wings, sharp talons, and yellow eyes that radiated a lambent malice. These were the ankou, the torturers and executioners of the most powerful nobles of the First World. In a place where death was often a mere inconvenience, the ankous’ duty was not merely to kill…it was to terrify and torture, to wring every iota of suffering out of their target in a pageant of cruelty before the final act, the bloody murder itself. Mox knew this the moment she recognized the creatures…and she didn’t care. She raised her hands above her head, and as she did so, a large cauldron erupted out of the floor of the throne room. From it burst a geyser of flesh-eating acid. One of the ankous was caught in the brunt of the blast, and was reduced to bones within a matter of seconds. Then, Velox conjured a roaring fire wall that ran the length of the room. A second ankou, one that had already been badly burned by the caustic eruption, was immediately consumed in the blaze. The remaining two horrors suddenly lit up like rainbows, as prismatic sprays of light emanated from their bodies. Where the light beams struck the companions, they were burned by acid or fire, charred by electricity, or simply momentarily confused by the dizzying display. Davrim was one of the latter, but fortunately, his muddled mind perceived the source of the blast as the target of his wrath. He rushed the ankou, and his devastating swordsmanship carved the fiend to pieces. He turned towards the final one, his senses returning, but before he could attack, Stevhan filled the ankou full of arrows, and if folded in on itself. As for the ghosts, Tungdill unleashed a massive firestorm upon the throne room, and Selena followed it up with a barrage of storm bolts. These, combined with Mox’s still-spewing acidic cauldron spelled a quick demise for the uneasy spirits. The way cleared, the heroes slowly approached the throne. The picture that came into their minds was one of holding court before thousands. Mox smiled to herself as reality faded.
_____________________________________________________________

The chamber they found themselves in was a plain, circular room with stone walls, floor and ceiling, lit by several dancing lights that floated near the ceiling. A statue of Nyrissa stood in the center of the room, one arm held out as if in greeting. At the base of the statue stood Nyrissa herself. She was a creature of unearthly beauty and grace, yet she was obviously far from human. Her body bore numerous thorns and ridges, as if aspects of the natural world were trying to form out of her flesh. As Mox and her companions gazed upon her, they saw only madness in her eyes. There would be no rational conversation, no hope of diplomacy. There would be only death.

Nyrissa’s eyes immediately locked upon Stevhan and the glowing blade Briar which he held in his hand. She smiled insanely, waved one delicate hand, and the ranger simply vanished. The nymph queen had imprisoned him inside a maze of his own mind. It was only temporary, she was certain. A mortal of his power and resolve should be able to free himself of the maze within a matter of moments, but Nyrissa was certain it would be plenty of time to destroy his allies, and then she would kill the bearer of Briar himself.
“Noooo!” Tungdill cried, misunderstanding what had happened to his friend. The dwarf pointed one finger at the nymph, and a bolt of black energy stabbed out at her chest. Nyrissa flinched, but nothing more. Tungdill was dumbfounded. She should have been struck dead! Instead she began weaving her own spell. Mox sensed what was coming. It was going to be a prismatic spray, much like the one the ankous used, only much more powerful. She had to stop the nymph from completing it. She quickly countered with her own magic, attempting to suffocate the breath right out of her. Nyrissa reeled backwards from the force of the spell, but she still breathed, and she still spoke the words to her spell. The light exploded among the companions in a torrent of elemental energy. Both Selena and Tungdill were struck blind by the brilliant beams. In the space of seconds, Nyrissa had neutralized half of her foes.

Davrim saw his chance with Nyrissa momentarily staggered by Mox’s counterattack. He rushed forward, and with one powerful swipe of his blade, opened the nymph queen’s abdomen. Her eyes went wide as she took a step backwards, one hand dropping down to keep her bowels inside her belly. Then, if possible, her eyes grew wider still when Stevhan abruptly reappeared. She managed to hurl another prismatic blast just as Davrim and Stevhan, now joined by Velox, charged her en masse. Though acid and lightning raced across their skin, the three warriors struck in unison, and as Briar tasted the flesh of its former mistress, Nyrissa howled in agony, the sword draining her of her very vitality. Mox knew that it was now or never. She spoke a single Word of power, and the resulting surge hurled the nymph into the wall, where she slid to the floor, stunned. Stevhan stood over her, Briar gripped in both hands. He raised it above Nyrissa, and then solemnly drove it through her heart.
_____________________________________________________________

The moment of Nyrissa’s death triggered a strange and violent transformation that rippled through the First World. The whole of Thousandbreaths was instantly uprooted and cast into the Material Plane. The House at the Edge of Time immediately crumbled and suffered thousands of years of erosion at once as if inflicted by constricting vegetation, rainfall, lightning strikes, and subsidence…effectively transforming it into the ruins of the Castle of Knives. The six companions floated gently to the ground in the midst of the devastation, as Nyrissa’s body rose up on a pyre of black lightning. A terrible gale ripped through all of Thousandbreaths with the Queen’s body acting as the center of this maelstrom. Within moments, it vanished in a black pall of madness. Just like that, it was over…


INTERLUDE

As she lunged forward sitting up in bed, Mox emitted a nightmarish scream. Her body glistening with sweat and her nails elongated into razor-edged claws, she slowly regained her composure. She brushed her long, curling black hair out of her face as she turned to embrace Stevhan, the Duke of Pitax.
 "Another nightmare, my darling?" asked the Duke. 
Curling herself around the muscular ranger, Mox replied, "This was more than just a dream... I know it was a glimpse of the future." 
A grim frown spreading over his face, Stevhan said, "Perhaps... What did you see?" 
As the Queen ran her hand over her husband’s chest, she began to describe her dream... 

"It wasn't like the others, Stevhan. In the previous dreams, I felt a deep dread... an impending doom, but the source was vague and unknown to me. I could feel that someone wanted to take my crown and rule Kardashia for themselves. This time everything was much more clear to me. A fierce human mistress confronted me, wielding a grand sword and a resplendent shield. She was clad in magnificent, full battle armor and she hunted me endlessly."

"Why? What did she want?" asked Stevhan.

"She hunts my crown and she sends her agents to take what she wants," Mox continued.

"Her agents?" Stevhan asked again.

"Yes. She is Iomedae. I have seen it clearly and I am quite certain," Mox stated.

Shaking his head, the Duke replied, "I feel certain your wrong, Mox. I think it's just another bad dream, my sweet."

"Promise me, Stevhan... Promise me that you'll protect me and the children from whatever is coming. Will you protect me, my Duke?" Mox asked.


----------



## Mr Haldol

Winter is coming...


----------



## RedTonic

Iomedae, huh? I'm not sure it's a wise strategic decision for even a goddess to try to face down Mox...

Thanks for the updates! I'm very much enjoying the sudden flowering of posts in the SH forum. ^_^


----------



## JollyDoc

RedTonic said:


> Iomedae, huh? I'm not sure it's a wise strategic decision for even a goddess to try to face down Mox...
> 
> Thanks for the updates! I'm very much enjoying the sudden flowering of posts in the SH forum. ^_^




Me to! I'm glad to be (almost) caught up! I plan to post the final installment sometime this week, followed be some brief epilogues. Again, I think you will be stunned and amazed at what is to come.


----------



## carborundum

JollyDoc said:


> I think you will be stunned and amazed at what is to come.




I'm still stunned and amazed that they won


----------



## JollyDoc

carborundum said:


> I'm still stunned and amazed that they won




Davrim scored a critical hit, disembowel, followed by a hit by Briar, which staggered Nyrissa, followed by Mox's Power Word Stun...lethal combo.


----------



## JollyDoc

THE WITCHWAR LEGACY

It had been five years since the death of Nyrissa and Kardashia’s return to peace and prosperity. The kingdom had thrived under Mox’s rule, and in the process had managed to avoid being drawn into the civil war in Brevoy, despite the original intentions of the Sword Lords. Mox remained in Veritas, along with Selena as her Magister, while Stevhan divided his time between the capitol and his duties in Pitax. Velox had made his home in Fort Drelev, and Davrim spent most of his time there, presiding over the new church of Iomedae which had thrived in the intervening years. As for Tungdill, the dwarf preferred the wilds of Kardashia to any of the more civilized areas. He still visited his companions from time to time, but through the years, he’d managed to cultivate quite a following among the indigenous creatures of the wild. Yes, all in all, things had turned out quite well for the nearest of the River Kingdoms…
___________________________________________________________

Selena sat in the high room of her tower that served as both her study and laboratory. She was pouring over the latest tome she’d procured that contained information, no matter how small, about the Eye of Abaddon and the lost cyclops empire. The subjects had become something of an obsession for the witch.  Suddenly, her head snapped up, and the artifact glowed crimson in her left eye socket. She sensed magic nearby.
“Hello, granddaughter,” a voice said from behind her.
Selena sighed. “I knew this day would come,” she said. “Mother said we couldn’t hide forever.”
“You’ve never been hidden from me,” her visitor chuckled. “I’ve always known where to find you. I’ve watched your career with great interest.”
“And now you’ve come to claim me,” Selena stated as she turned to face her guest.
The woman who stood in the center of chamber was statuesque and youthful, despite her snow white hair. No one looking upon her would guess that she was over one-hundred years old. Selena allowed no emotion to show upon her face, but she could scarcely believe that Queen Elvanna of Irrisen, Fourteenth Daughter of Baba Yaga, was actually here in her home.
“You misread my intentions, child,” Elvanna smiled. “I have actually come to offer you freedom. Your mother was mistaken when she thought she could outrun her destiny, and she paid for it with her life. I would not see you suffer the same fate. I proffer this one-time accord to you. If you hear my words, and you agree, then you have my solemn word that I will forget that you ever existed.”
“It seems I have no choice,” Selena replied. “I’m listening.”

“Have you heard of the Witchwar?” Elvanna began.
“No,” Selena said. “Should I have?”
“Half a millennium ago,” Elvanna continued, “the reign of our ancestor, Queen Tashanna, drew near its end, as all of our reigns must, and the time approached for her to abdicate the throne and abandon Irrisen. She chose a different course. Rather than give up her crown, she sought to depose her mother, Baba Yaga. She managed to locate the Torc of Kostchtchie, an artifact which contained the mortal soul of the Demon Lord of Giants and Cold. Knowing Kostchtchie’s hatred for Baba Yaga, Tashanna used her possession of the torc to convince him to ally with her in rebellion. This was the Witchwar, although in retrospect, ‘war’ might be too generous a term.”
“Tashanna underestimated Baba Yaga, as many have before and since, for the Old Crone had actually created both Kostchtchie and the torc, and so possessed the means to undo them both. Baba Yaga faced Kostchtchie and savaged him with her magic, sending him fleeing to Iobaria to lick his wounds while her loyalists decimated his giant forces. The Queen of Witches then turned her attention to Tashanna and quickly defeated her rebel forces as well, capturing her daughter and ignobly parading her before her own demoralized troops. Baba Yaga executed every one of Tashanna’s followers and created a huge magical necropolis wherein she interred the defeated army and, purportedly, the deposed witch queen herself, along with the magical torc that led to her downfall. Known as the Veil of Frozen Tears, this hidden necropolis, filled with traps of Baba Yaga’s devising and foul guardian spirits, remained inviolate for five centuries…until now.”
“I think I’m beginning to understand,” Selena smirked.
“Do not presume,” Elvanna chided. “True, I have discovered the location of the Veil, but I have no intention of defying my mother and repeating the mistakes of Tashanna.”
“Then why do you want the torc?” Selena asked.
“That is my concern, child,” Elvanna’s voice grew cold. “Suffice it to say that I do want it. I have sent mercenaries already to retrieve it. None have returned. The last of these groups was dispatched ten days ago. They were led by my daughter, your cousin, Ilivorr.”
“The so-called White Witch?” Selena asked incredulously.
“Watch your tongue,” Elvanna warned. “She easily rivals you in power. Do not doubt it. So the fact that she has not returned should give you pause…especially if you intend on undertaking the same venture yourself, and taking your friends with you as I assume you will.”
Selena was silent and pensive for several moments. 
“Your word,” she said at length. “If I do this for you, you will leave me in peace, and my companions as well.”
“Given,” Elvanna nodded. “Be forewarned, in addition to any of the guards and wards left by the Old Crone, I’m certain by now that Kostchtchie himself has become aware of the rediscovery of the Veil, and will have sent agents of his own to regain the torc.” 
With that, she simply vanished.
__________________________________________________________

“So let me see if I understand,” Velox said. “You want us to undertake a journey to a tomb/prison created by Baba Yaga to retrieve an artifact that contains the soul of a demon lord, so that we may in turn give this artifact to Baba Yaga’s daughter.”
“In so many words,” Selena nodded.
The companions sat in Mox’s throne room, the first time they’d gathered as a group in over a year, at Selena’s behest.
Velox glanced aside at Davrim. “Selena,” he said, “you are my dear and true friend, and I respect and trust you, but why would you think that I would ever do such a thing?”
“For all the reasons you just mentioned,” Mox snapped. “She is your friend, and has laid her life on the line for you time and again. Your trust should be implicit. She would not ask you to do this if she was not sure of her own motives.”
The Queen looked to her husband for affirmation, but the Duke of Pitax remained silent.
“You have my word on this at least,” Selena replied to Velox, “if I have any doubt about Queen Elvanna’s true motives, I will not hand the torc over to her. You have my word on this. I will sacrifice my own life first.”
Velox nodded once. “That is good enough for me. When do we depart?”
“I’m getting’ too old fer this,” Tungdill grumbled.
________________________________________________________

Selena didn’t know how she knew it, but she was aware that the Veil of Frozen Tears lay at the northernmost edge of Irrisen in an isolated area where the cold plain abutted the mountainous glaciers of the Crown of the World. She had a clear enough picture in her mind, that she could transport herself and her allies across the hundreds of intervening miles between Kardashia and Irrisen. They found themselves at the mouth of a narrow valley, where an unbelievable sight greeted them. A massive waterfall once plunged the seven-hundred feet to the valley floor, but it was now frozen solid, leaving a braided column of unimaginable proportions that extended from the lip of the cliff above to its base of jagged ice boulders and frozen hillocks at the bottom. A fortification of some sort, apparently carved from the ice itself, protruded from the ice sheet halfway up, with both a turret and wall pierced with arrow slits. Above this, a hollow had been carved out of the ice, forming a great shelf upon which appeared to sit some sort of village. A fissure marked the ice flow’s lower reaches and possibly provided entrance. A hundred yards away from the base of the icefall was a camp occupied by a number of large brutes.

“I guess my grandmother was right,” Selena said. “The giants are already here.”
“Then I say we get a jump on them,” Mox smiled. “They’ve obviously started at the bottom. Why don’t we start at the top?”
She nodded towards the top of the fall to where the village sat.
Selena shrugged. “I don’t have a better plan.”
The companions locked hands, and then Mox transported them across time and space in the blink of an eye.

They appeared within a vast hollow that opened in the face of the frozen waterfall, forming a high-ceilinged ice cave. There, out of the same ubiquitous ice, had been constructed a traditional Irrisen village of multilevel cottages topped with steep, gabled roofs. Many were built directly into the jagged ice walls that formed the cave-like hollow. The tinkling of water could be faintly heard above the moaning of the wind from somewhere in the cluster of buildings. Near the lip of the ice cliff stood a larger structure that appeared to be surrounded by a ring of statues.
“I recognize this,” Selena said as she took in the diorama. “It’s a type of necropolis. It was common to the North people several centuries ago. It’s supposed to represent an imitation of the ordinary life that the deceased left behind.”
“Wouldn’t it be odd for Baba Yaga to build something like this honoring her enemies?” Mox asked.
“I suspect it was built for her own forces that died in the war,” Selena replied. “She may be evil incarnate, but that doesn’t make her heartless.”

The companions made their way through the dead village towards the large structure near the edge of the cliff. The building resembled a large, two-story cottage with wide double doors at its front and rear. Above the southern doors was a giant clock face, ten feet in diameter. It bore strange arcane symbols instead of traditional numbers, and had four hands…one short, one long, one forked, and one wavy…that appeared to be keeping time in no recognizable system. Rows of identical white marble statues depicting a bent old crone holding a scythe with a blade of dull gray metal stood at the building’s base. These statues appeared to be on railed tracks of ice that looped around the sides of the clock building, from one set of double doors to the set on the opposite side. No sooner had the group drawn near to the structure, than a bell tolled from somewhere inside. As it did so, the southern doors opened and two new statues emerged upon the tracks, while on the northern side, two other statues disappeared inside the doors there. The two that emerged suddenly ripped themselves loose from their respective tracks and began stalking towards the companions, scythes raised. 

Davrim, Stevhan and Velox moved to intercept the animate statues before they could reach Mox and the others. Davrim swung at one, but when his blade connected, it was as if he’s struck a stone wall. A few marble chips flew off, but there was little actual damage. However, when Stevhan stepped forward and swung Briar, the enchanted metal cut through the marble statue like butter, and it shattered into a thousand pieces. However, as he turned towards the second golem, it swung its scythe, and opened a gaping gash across the ranger’s belly. Velox shoved Stevhan out of the way, and stepped in forward, his sword flashing. Bits and pieces of debris were hacked off of the golem, but it showed no signs of slowing. 

Mox was preparing to bring her magic to bear upon the golem, even though she knew that the very nature of such constructs made them immune to most spells, when something odd caught her eye. Scratched into the ice on the ground before the double doors was a short message:
‘A stitch in time.’
Before Mox could make more of it, however, the bell tolled again and two more statues emerged from inside the great clock, animating as they stepped off the tracks. Velox and Davrim already had their hands full with the remaining first golem, while Tungdill hurried to deal with Stevhan’s wounds.
“Selena!” Mox called. “A stitch in time! What does it mean?”
“Is now really the appropriate time for trivia questions?” Selena asked as she hurled lightning at one of the golems.
“Just answer the question!” Mox snapped.
“Fine!” the witch retorted. “A stitch in time saves nine! Are you happy?”
“Nine?” Mox said to herself. “What does that have to do with…?”
Her eyes were drawn to the clock face, and then to the position where the numeral 9 would normally be. Instead, there was some sort of arcane symbol, but as Mox peered at it more closely, she saw that it was actually composed of tiny, tightly graven script giving it its shape. 
“Everyone!” she called out. “We have to get out of here! Now!”
The bell tolled again, but as the doors opened once more to eject another pair of the killer statues, Mox conjured an extradimensional pit of acid in front of them. Both of the golems immediately tumbled in.
“Fall back!” she commanded again.

The companions heeded Mox’s words, and made a fighting retreat from the clock tower. The statues did not follow. Instead, they moved back to the track and resumed their former, inanimate positions. 
“Now,” Selena said as she and the others struggled to catch their breath, “what in the Hells is going on?”
Mox explained what she’d seen on the ground, and on the clock face itself.
“So what did the writing say?” Mox asked.
“It makes no sense,” Mox replied. “ ‘A stitch in time saves nine, but what loop will the Witch Queen heed? In pointless slaughter, the Old Crone’s daughter, a hapless mob did lead. Now she sits in tomb that’s frozen, the traitors’ blood all spilled, upon the path that she had chosen, enthroned with collar gild. Ringed in steel, three loops times nine, prized from the luckless seat. Supplicants kneel, of porcelain fine, the banished Queen to meet. It matter’s not who’s dared to come, the demon’s soul to claim. The weak shall die, the strongest live, and forever more remain.’”
 “The second line obviously refers to Tashanna,” Selena said, “and I would assume ‘collar gild’ refers to the torc. As for the rest, I’m not certain, but it’s probably a clue as to how to find where Tashanna, and the torc, are entombed. The writing you saw scratched in the ice, Mox…maybe Ilivorr left it, sort of like a bread crumb to follow.”
“So at least we’re in the right place,” Velox said. “Maybe we should keep looking around to see if she left any more clues.”

They made their way deeper into the dead village, coming eventually to the town square. An elegantly sculpted ice fountain sat in the middle, depicting a flock of winter geese taking flight. A jet of water sprang from the top, tumbling down into the basin below. Miraculously, the water remained unfrozen despite the frigid temperature, and oddly enough, seemed to radiate a deeper chill than the glacier itself. No sooner had the companions stepped into the square, than a savage roar echoed from a side street to their left. Charging down the lane was a massive, deformed giant. He might once have been a frost giant, but was now hunched and knotted, with corded muscles and awkwardly formed limbs. His thickened skin seemed more like animal hide than flesh, and his eyes glowed red like flames. Davrim, bow in hand, quickly loosed two arrows at the oncoming brute, but the shafts bounced harmlessly off the creature’s skin. Mox sent a disintegrating blast of magic at it, but the giant barely slowed, though his skin smoked and hissed. Tungdill even managed to drop a column of fire on the giant’s head, but on it came, burned, bleeding, but obviously insane. Stevhan drew Briar and stepped into the brute’s path, but the giant lowered its shoulder and slammed into the ranger, hurling him into the fountain. The supernaturally cold water burned like fire, and Stevhan instantly found his limbs encased in ice. Davrim and Velox drew their swords and rushed forward. The gnarled giant hefted a massive battle axe as they approached, the edges of which flickered with blue fire. The axe came down, but Velox caught it on his own blade, twisted and rolled his arms, and sent the axe flying out of the giant’s hands and across the square. Then Davrim laid into the deformed brute, and Velox joined him from the flank. Within moments, they cut the giant down, though the creature fought tooth and nail until its last breath.

“W…w…what w…w…was that?” Stevhan stammered, his teeth chattering as Tungdill helped him from the fountain and worked to defrost him.
“Among giants,” Selena explained, such deformities  are considered to be a ‘blessing’ from Kostchtchie. I think we can assume the demon lord’s minions are already well ahead of us. We should keep moving.”
At the far end of the cavern that held the necropolis, the companions found an alley-like cave that had been cut through the ice between two of the tombs. It lead deeper into the ice to a stair that wound deeper into the glacier. 
___________________________________________________________

 The tunnel the companions followed wound downward for several dozen yards before ending at a set of double doors. They were unlocked and opened effortlessly despite their enormous size. An eerie sight greeted their eyes as they saw the chamber beyond. Row upon row of identical, life-size ice sculptures depicting a bent-backed old crone with a skull-like face stood in perfect ranks. A sense of woe seemed to radiate from each statue, and dark arcs of power crackled across their surfaces and leaped from sculpture to sculpture. Nearby, at the end of the nearest row, on statue lay shattered, and shards of ice littered the floor around its base. 

“Well this looks menacing enough,” Mox sighed. “How about we just circumvent this obvious death trap?”
Mox took Davrim’s hand in one of hers and Stevhan’s in the other, closed her eyes and spoke the words to a spell. She opened them a moment later, expecting the three of them to be safely on the far side of the room. They hadn’t moved an inch. Instead, a wave of black energy coruscated through the chamber, washing over the companions, sending stabbing pains into their souls as it penetrated their bodies. Velox recovered first, hefted his sword and smashed it down on the nearest statue, thinking to destroy it as the other one had been. His blade rebounded off the statue, leaving not a mark on it.
“This is negative energy!” Selena cried through gritted teeth, pain still wracking her body. “Counter it!”
Through his battle haze, Velox heard and understood. He called upon his birth right, given by Iomedae, and sent a wave of healing power through the room. As it touched the statues, chips and pieces exploded off of them, as if they were being eroded away. The others saw this, and joined his assault. Tungdill and Davrim cast curative spells, Selena used healing hexes, and even Stevhan pulled out a minor healing wand that he kept for emergencies. Gradually, they made progress, despite the fact that the horrible negative energy wave exploded around them every few seconds. It was going to be a battle of attrition. One by one, as the statues continued to erode, they began to crumble to dust. As they did so, each one was revealed to contain an exquisitely carved, tiny porcelain doll that depicted a gnarled old woman. Finally, the last statue was destroyed, and the energy field dissipated. 
The companions regained their composure, using their remaining curative magics to restore their own health, and then Selena bent to pick up one of the dolls.
“ ‘Supplicants kneel, of porcelain fine,’” she repeated the line from the poem. “I think we’ve discovered another clue. It would seem someone else has as well.” She gestured towards the statue that had already been destroyed when they entered, noting that its remains contained no doll.

The group made their way across the room, gathering up the dolls as they went. At the far side of the room was a second set of doors, massive and composed of two white stone portals. Their surfaces bore a scene of craggy, snow-clad peaks in relief beneath the cavorting forms of unidentifiable creatures. The lintel above the door bore an inscription in ancient runes. There was no visible way to open the doors. The companions began trying every means, magical and mundane, at their disposal to open the barrier. Nothing. Finally, Mox’s attention was drawn to the runes above.
“ ‘Only by the Power of Faith shall ye pass Beyond,’” she read. “Whatever that means.”
She sighed, closed her eyes and thought of the one thing she had the most faith in…herself. When she opened her eyes again, the doors had become hazy and insubstantial. 
“Aha!” she turned to her friends, beaming. “That was easy!”
She turned back to the doors and simply stepped through them. She failed to notice that her friends did not follow. To them the portals were just as solid and impassable as they had ever been…
________________________________________________________

Mox blinked once as she entered the antechamber, then her eyes looked up…and up. She was surrounded by giants of all sizes. Three frost giant warriors stood to her right, while a gnarled, deformed creature like the one they’d met in the necropolis square flanked her on the left. A large, white-furred, blue-eyed wolf crouched snarling near the giants, its breath frosting the already frigid air. Yet all of these creatures barely warranted a glance from the queen, for her attention was riveted on the truly massive…thing…that stood directly before her. The ebon-skinned monstrosity stood over fifty-feet in height, and it had a huge, gaping maw with boar-like tusks. A wide nose sat beneath a furrowed brow that lacked any sort of eyes or visible visual organs. Its corded muscles twisted and writhed beneath its smooth, hairless jet hide, giving its frame a gnarled, unbalanced asymmetry. It moved with a loping gait, however, and wore its armor, composed of thick, welded plates, effortlessly. This was an abyssal gigant, one of a race spawned from titans who took refuge in the rifts of the Abyss, and now served powerful demon lords, such as Kostchtchie. The gargantuan brute raised a maul the size of an elephant above its head, and brought it smashing down towards Mox. At the last instant, the sorceress erected a cage of pure force around her, and the hammer struck with enough impact to crack the floor beneath her.

“What did she do before she disappeared?” Davrim asked. “Where did she go?”
“She said something about faith,” Velox replied. “That could be interpreted as trust in a higher power, but which one? It could also be thought of as trust in one’s self. Concentrate, my friends. Focus your minds on nothing else save passing these doors.”
When the oracle did this himself, he saw the doors as Mox had. Quickly, he stepped through. Davrim followed behind him a moment later.

Mox breathed an audible sigh of relief when she saw the two warriors step into the room. The pair did not blink at the foes arrayed before them. They simply acted. The gigant’s massive head swung towards them, and it prepared to raise its maul again. Before it could, however, Velox leaped towards it and severed one of its hands at the wrist. The behemoth roared and swatted the oracle aside. One of the frost giants leaped after him, hacking at Velox’s arm before he could regain his feet. He rolled to one side, and the giant’s axe merely grazed him as he rolled back to standing…only to come up against the gnarled giant. The oracle in full battle fury, however, was not a foe to be taken lightly. He spun his sword like a dervish, and cut through the deformed monster in a matter of seconds. Across the room, Davrim had maneuvered behind the gigant, and with one massive swing, severed the tendon of its right heel. It collapsed heavily to one knee, bleeding profusely, and in that moment, the inquisitor leaped upwards and drove his sword through its spine, sending it crumpling to the floor. Mox chose that moment to dispel her force cage, and as the winter wolf leaped towards her, she disintegrated it in mid-air. That left only the three frost giant warriors against the queen, the oracle and the inquisitor. They giants should have brought ten times their number…
___________________________________________________________

Ultimately, the others were able to discern the nature of the portal and pass through. A set of stairs on the far side of the room led downwards again, this time to an icy room that looked to have been turned into a campsite of some sort. A number of water barrels, wrapped in furs to insulate them from the cold, stood in the center of the chamber. Scattered around them were a number of giant-sized bedrolls composed of various mangy furs from arctic and mountain beasts. Against one wall sat a mound of massive cuts of frozen, raw meat. Velox and Davrim entered the chamber first, and as they did so, another gnarled, deformed giant leaped from behind a wall towards them. The warriors darted to either side, flanking the giant, and with a coordinated series of strikes, took it down quickly.

As Stevhan made his way across the chamber, a subtle glint caught his eye. A small ice sculpture of a beautiful maiden lay discarded among the giant bedrolls. Though he couldn’t explain why, the ranger felt strangely drawn to it. He leaned down to pick it up, and in that instant, an overwhelming compulsion came over him. He glanced towards a blank section of wall, and saw there a large bloody handprint. His hand dropped to his side, the statue still clutched there, and he walked over to the wall and placed his other palm against the handprint. Abruptly, the wall swung aside revealing a stairway leading down into darkness.
“Stevhan?” Mox called after him. “What are you doing?”
Her husband ignored her, and started down the stairs. 
“Velox!” Mox cried. “Something’s wrong with Stevhan!”
The oracle looked at the ranger and realized immediately that Stevhan was not in his right mind. He lunged across the room and knocked the statue from the duke’s hand. It clattered to the floor, but remained whole. Stevhan seemed not to notice. He continued down the stairs…until he suddenly collapsed in a heap, sound asleep.
“That should hold him for a moment,” Selena said, “but no one disturb him, or he’ll wake immediately.”
“Do you think it’s the statue?” Davrim asked Velox.
“Let’s find out,” the oracle said. 
He lifted his sword and brought it down solidly on the sculpture. Not a mark.
“I would say that’s a good guess,” he replied to Davrim.
“It’s made of ice, right?” Tungdill asked.
“Seems to be,” Velox said, “but I’m not willing to touch it to find out.”
“Well, let’s see how a little fireworks then,” the druid shrugged. 
He waved his hand, and a pillar of flame consumed the statue. When the fire died, the sculpture was little more than a puddle of water. 
“Wake’im up now,” Tungdill pointed to Stevhan
Velox used the toe of his boot to nudge the ranger.
“Huh?” Stevhan grunted as he opened his eyes. “What’s going on?
“You tell us,” Davrim said. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Um…,” Stevhan rubbed his head, “we killed a giant?”
“Several, actually,” Velox smiled. “You don’t recall picking up a statue, or why you were going down those stairs?”
“What are you talking about?” the ranger asked as he got to his feet. “Where do these stairs lead?”
“Good question,” the oracle replied. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

The stairs were perfectly transparent crystal, without any visible means of support. They descended some forty feet to a circular chamber. A narrow arrow slit in one wall allowed a gust of cold wind to enter and stir the many hide and stick fetishes that had been arrayed around an altar of black stone on a short dais at one end of the room. A massive, blue-skinned troll knelt before the altar, but his craggy face bore a look of utter confusion.
“You!” he bellowed when he saw the intruders enter the room. “Did you destroy the statue? You did didn’t you! Now I can’t hear her anymore! I’ll kill you all!”
“Not if I kill you first,” Mox grinned as she breathed a cloud of acid at the troll. 
He shrieked, beating at his skin as the caustic liquid burned through to the bone. His red eyes bulged as he glared at the sorceress, and then he began chanting in a guttural tongue. A ray of black fire shot from a medallion around his neck, and where it hit Mox, she felt her body go completely numb. For a moment, her breath caught in the throat, and her heart skipped a beat. He vision blurred briefly, but he awareness snapped back into focus as the pain suddenly hit her. Velox, Stevhan and Davrim rushed the troll, striking in unison. Velox went high, Stevhan went low, and when Davrim struck, he separated the giant’s head from its shoulders. The inquisitor picked up the severed head and tossed it out the window.
“Regenerate from that,” he muttered.

“Something doesn’t seem right about all this,” Mox said as she quickly quaffed a healing draught.
“You’ll have to clarify that statement,” Selena replied snarkily. “The part about us hunting down a piece of a demon lord’s soul for my grandmother so that she doesn’t turn me over to my great-grandmother Baba Yaga…or was there something else you were thinking of?”
“I mean the way we’re going about this,” the queen snipped. “We started out at the summit of the falls, and that’s where we found the poem, as well as that scrawled note in the ice. Then, in the hall of statues…those giants were trying to get INTO that room. It was obvious they hadn’t already been there, but someone had. Someone had taken one of the dolls…possibly the same someone who left that note by the clock tower. The lower down we go, the more giants we find. I think we’re going the wrong way. I suggest we head back to the necropolis and search again for more clues. Agreed?”
_________________________________________________________

“Here,” Stevhan said as he squatted down in the snow near the clock tower, but still far enough away that the statues remained inert. “One set of footprints, about a week old, give or take. They came from that direction.” He nodded over his shoulder towards one of the buildings on the far side of the necropolis.
The others followed the ranger to a two-story sepulcher that stood near the back wall of the cavern. There, in a small snowdrift that had gathered, was the unmistakable print of a boot. 
“The seal’s been broken,” Stevhan said as he pushed open the door to the tomb.
Inside was a single plain chamber with two ice biers upon which lay the frozen remains of Irrisen warriors, still clad in their arms and armor. A single door stood at the far side of the room, against a wall which should have abutted the cavern wall outside. When Stevhan opened it, however, there was a narrow staircase carved into the ice that led down into darkness.

The stairs emerged into a dank room in which a battle appeared to have recently taken place. A number of charred humanoid skeletons lay strewn about, and a lifelike stone statue of an ogre pointed at one wall with an arm that ended in a broken stump…the hand and the barbed falchion it held lay on the floor near the base of the stairs. A second statue stood on the far side of the chamber, this one intact and depicting a bestial, demonic figure. Then, its head turned towards the companions, and one hand whipped out, hurling a ball of fire into their midst. It exploded an instant later, scattering the heroes like cord wood. Tungdill’s breath woofed out of his chest as he came up hard against a wall. Still, it wasn’t pain that turned his face beet red…it was rage. He pointed one stubby finger at the demon, and the black bolt of energy that struck the fiend slammed it so hard into the opposite wall that the ice cracked. By then, Velox was on his feet and across the room. As the demon was extricating himself, the oracle slashed its throat cleanly, sending its soul gurgling back to the Abyss.
“I think we can safely assume this is the way your cousin went,” Mox told Selena.
_____________________________________________________________

The tracks they’d been following led to a large round room with a domed ceiling rising high overhead. Bars of ice blocked their entrance into the room, in which an elaborate throne sat within a raised alcove to one side, surveying the chamber. Heavy manacles were inset into the throne’s arms, back and legs. Several more sets of manacles were spaced about the room’s walls, interspersed with various diabolical instruments of torture. A large cage of ice bars that extended from floor to ceiling dominated the center of the chamber, and floating within it was a huge sphere of crackling, gray energy. Dispersed around the perimeter of the ice cage were a half-dozen living corpses dressed in archaic breastplate, and as still as the grave. However, as soon as they saw the intruders on the other side of the bars, they lurched into motion. 

Velox and Mox began their spells simultaneously. A wall of orange fire burst into the center of the room, consuming a pair of the spirit warriors in the conflagration. An instant later, a crater of acid erupted, boiling away the ice bars. Suddenly, the sphere imprisoned within the cage pulsed with dark energy, and the companions felt the cold touch of death wash over them, while the remaining undead warriors seemed to draw strength from the wave. One of them stepped forward, raised its hand and a blast of ice and snow blew down the hall like an arctic storm. Tungdill countered with a storm of fire that engulfed the entire room, roasting every one of the undead warriors to ash, and causing the dark elemental to collapse into nothingness within its cage.

Selena walked slowly over to the throne, and knelt down beside it. One of the foot manacles had been removed.
“Look,” she said. “The links in the chains. There are 27 of them.”
“So?” Mox asked.
“ ‘Ringed in steel, three loops times nine, prized from the luckless seat.’ I don’t know about you, but I’d say this seat qualifies as luckless, and someone has already pried loose one chain…a chain with 27 links…three times nine.”
“The tracks end here,” Stevhan said.
__________________________________________________________

Selena laid the manacle and chain in a circle on the ground in front of the clock tower.
“Now,” she said, “I think we should each place one of the dolls inside.”
“Are you sure this is the way this works?” Mox asked.
“Of course not!” the witch snapped. “If any of you have any better ideas, I’m all ears.”
“Just asking,” Mox shrugged as she laid the first doll in the ring.
One by one the others followed suit. Suddenly, the hand on the clock face that had been pointing unerringly at the numeral 9 began to spin wildly, and the clock began to glow with friction, and became blindingly bright. When the light faded a moment later, the companions found themselves transported. 

The chamber had featureless white stone walls and flooring beneath an equally plain high ceiling. A dark smudge of ash, humanoid in shape, marred one wall. Directly ahead was a throne of the same white stone with an inscription on its base. A life-size figure of a beautiful woman carved from ice, with a twisted, rune-scribed golden collar around her neck, sat upon the throne. Before her, a crystalline sphere stood on a white stone pedestal. Opposite her was a wide circle on the wall that displayed a blurry image of the cliff outside the Witch Clock. A starkly beautiful woman stood beside the throne. Her skin was so pale and translucent that she seemed carved from ice herself…until she spoke.
“Welcome, cousin,” Ilivorr Karanasi said as she nodded to Selena. “I’ve been watching you, and I must admit, I’m impressed that you solved the puzzle and found your way here. It’s a pity that now you have to die.”
The White Witch opened her mouth and began to wail, a sound that pierced the air like the shriek of a banshee. Before the horrified eyes of her friends, Selena simply collapsed.

After that, chaos erupted. Velox hurled destruction at Ilivorr, but the witch countered, and the spell merely scorched her flesh. At the same moment, Mox raced across the chamber to the throne, and ripped the torc from the neck of the statue seated there. In that instant, she felt the dark energy that was Kostchtchie’s soul touch her own. Meanwhile, Tungdill rushed to Selena’s side. He felt a faint pulse at her neck. She was alive, but just barely. Quickly, the druid poured all of the healing power at his command into his friend. Her breathing slowly returned to normal, and her eyes opened wide.
“Get up girl!” the dwarf growled. “Between yer crazy kin and our queen, I’m not sure which one’s gonna get us killed first!”
Selena took Tungdill’s hand and got to her feet, just as Stevhan charged Ilivorr and sliced deep into her side with Briar. She reeled back against the throne, momentarily stunned.
“My turn, bitch!” Selena hissed as she hurled fire and lightning at her cousin.
Ilivorr screamed as her skin charred, and then Mox hammered her with the same spell that she finished Nyrissa with…a Word of power. The White Witch’s eyes rolled back into her head, and as she slid towards the floor, Velox reached out and laid a hand upon her chest, sucking the remaining life out of her. As she died, however, something strange happened. The oracle’s eyes did not lose their battle glaze. Instead, he lifted his head and turned towards his companions. In that moment, he knew that he must kill them all. The Frozen Cenotaph had to be preserved. He could not allow their continued presence to desecrate it.

Velox stood and calmly walked towards Mox, whose back was to him. He raised his sword and, his pulse never even quickening, thrust it into her back. Mox screamed as her draconic wings sprouted from her shoulders and she reflexively to the air, trying to distance herself from her unknown assailant. When she turned and looked down, and saw Velox standing there, his blade dripping, something inside her snapped.
“I knew it!” she shrieked. “I told you, Stevhan! He was waiting for this all along!”
Her hands crackled with emerald energy, and she blasted the oracle with enough power to disintegrate a lesser soul. As it was, Velox was hurled backwards, his skin smoking and cratered. He waved his hand, and a cloud of fog arose around him, concealing him from view. He climbed slowly and quietly to his feet, sensing the others near. A shadow loomed in front of him and he struck without hesitation. He heard Stevhan grunt in surprise and pain, and then a strong wind rose out of nowhere, tearing the fog bank away.
“There he is!” Tungdill shouted. “Take’im down! He’s outta his mind!”
The last thing Velox saw was Stevhan coming towards him, the pommel of Briar upraised. Then, only darkness.

“Good work, my love!” Mox cried. “Now is our chance! Stand back!”
“Mox! No!” Stevhan called, but it was too late. His wife sent a barrage of arcane bolts at Velox’s unconscious form. He was killed instantly.
“Ya crazy bitch!” Tungdill roared. “What’ve ya done! Is everybody here crazy?”
The druid sent a bolt of black fire at the queen, not trying to kill her, but hoping to bring her back down to the ground. Mox deflected the spell with a casual wave of her hand.
“You see?” she snapped, her eyes finding Stevhan and Selena. “They’ve been biding their time all along! It’s now or never!”
Stevhan, however, wasn’t listening to her…only to the voice speaking in his head. The one that told him to defend the Cenotaph and the torc with his life. Dimly, he heard Briar’s voice in his mind as well, telling him this wasn’t right. He didn’t care. He swung the enchanted blade at Davrim’s neck, but at the last instant, the sword twisted in his hand, and only the flat struck the inquisitor, but still hard enough to whiplash the half-orc’s spine. Davrim’s head spun, but he managed to focus his gaze on Mox and Stevhan. He could detect no evil in them, yet they were both maddened just the same. Backing away from the ranger, he bent down and picked up Velox’s body. Then, as Stevhan rushed him again, the inquisitor leaped for the blurry wall of the clock face and vanished.

“Not so fast, my ‘friends’!” Mox whispered.
She flapped her wings and dove towards the wall, vanishing after Davrim.
“Selena!” Tungdill shouted. “I don’t know who’s side yer on here, but I ain’t hangin’ around t’find out! If you wanna stay with the ranger, suit yerself. Yer on yer own!”
With that, the dwarf darted through the wall himself. 
“Stevhan, it’s me,” Selena said calmly, her hands empty as she faced the duke. “You have to come with me. Something’s possessed your mind. You know this isn’t right. Come with me now. Please!”
But she could see in the ranger’s eyes that her words were having no effect. She wove a spell, hoping to entrap him in the ice that grew on the floor, but he nimbly dodged aside. As he charged towards her, Briar humming with power, she had no choice. She spoke the words to another spell and vanished.

No sooner had Davrim stepped outside, than a flash of fire and a puff of brimstone ignited in front of him. A creature slithered out of the mist, with the upper torso of a naked, six-armed woman, each hand clutching a wicked looking scimitar, and the lower body of a serpent. 
“I am Nazalimora, mortal,” she said. “I serve the Lord Kostchtchie, and I have come to claim what is his.
At that moment, Mox appeared behind the inquisitor.
“There it is,” Davrim nodded. “You can have it for all I care!”
Then Tungdill was there. He saw the demon on one side of Davrim, and Mox on the other. With no time to figure out just what exactly was going on, he chose to shoot first and ask questions later. From out of thin air, he conjured two enormous boulders. The great rocks clashed together, smashing Mox and Nazalimora between them. When the stones vanished, both of them lay prone on the ground. Davrim stood over Mox, the tip of his blade pointed at her throat.
“I should kill you now for what you did!” he snarled. “Give me one reason not to!”
“You self-righteous, sanctimonious pig!” Mox spat. “Like you need a reason to kill! I know you and Velox had this planned all along! You were just waiting for the right time to take my throne! Over my dead body!”
She spoke a word and disappeared in a flash of light, reappearing a moment later near the roof of the ice cavern of the necropolis.
“Help me claim the torc, mortal,” Nazalimora said as she climbed upright. “If you do so, all is forgiven. My Lord will not hunt you.”
Before Davrim had a chance to answer, Tungdill cast another spell, summoning a sirocco of hot wind and fire to force Mox to the ground. The vortex caught the sorceress, but before it could pull her down, she cast again and vanished.
“Fools!” the marilith cried. “You’ve let her escape! You’ll pay for that mistake with your lives!”
“Shut up,” Davrim said coldly. “I think I’ve heard enough from you.”
He let Velox’s body slide to the ground as he squared off against the demoness. Her sword spun like a whirlwind of steel, but the inquisitor danced among them like a dervish, slashing and stabbing like a man possessed. When he finally pierced the marilith’s heart, she disappeared in a flash of black fire.
“Boy,” Tungdill said, “I don’t know what in the Hells just happened here, but I do know there’s gonna be Hell t’pay when I catch up to that crazy bitch. Get the oracle and hang on t’me. We’re goin’ home.”


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## JollyDoc

AFTERMATH

“I want the torc, Mox,” Selena said coldly. “We had an agreement.”
The witch and the sorceress stood in the otherwise empty throne room of the royal palace in Veritas.
“I even brought your husband back alive,” Selena continued.
“Hah!” Mox laughed. “And look where that’s gotten me! I’d be better off if you’d left him at the Veil of Frozen Tears. Traitors! All around me are traitors!”
“I’ve stood by you all along,” the witch replied, keeping her voice carefully neutral, “but if you don’t turn the torc over to me and allow me to return to Irrisen, then I’m as good as dead. You are to when Queen Elvanna learns that you’re in possession of it. I’m surprised more of Kostchtchie’s minions haven’t come for you already.”
“Who says they haven’t?” Mox snapped. The Queen shook her head in exasperation. “Look. I’ll give you the damned thing on one condition. It’s useless to me anyway. I know that Davrim and Tungdill haven’t been able to bring Velox back to life yet, but my sources tell me they are close. You can have the torc if you swear to me that you will retrieve his body and bring it back to me. I won’t have that bastard dogging me for the rest of my life!”
“Agree,” Selena said. The Eye of Abaddon twinkled in its socket. “Now give me the torc.”
___________________________________________________________

“My Queen,” Selena said as she bowed her head and knelt before Elvanna’s throne.
“You have done well, granddaughter,” the witch smiled. “You have returned that which is mine.”
“I regret that I could not return your daughter to you as well,” Selena replied.
Elvanna waved one hand dismissively. “If she were worthy, she would be standing where you are right now. What will you do now, child? Will you return to that quaint little backwater you ‘civilized’?”
“No,” Selena said simply. “There’s nothing left for me there.”
Elvanna’s smile broadened. “One-hundred years,” she said. “That is all that the Old Crone allots to each of her daughter’s to reign. I am upon my ninety-ninth. Though I have the torc, I have no wish to repeat the mistakes of my ancestor. I will accept my destiny, and hopefully my recovery of the artifact will gain me favor in my mother’s eyes. However, there is still the question of my successor…,”
Selena lifted her eyes at last, and a small smile began to play across her own lips.
____________________________________________________________

“Welcome back!” Davrim exclaimed, his piggish face filling Velox’s field of vison.
“Thanks,” the oracle replied, “though I must say I had been enjoying Iomedae’s company.”
“Vacation’s over, my brother,” the inquisitor said as he hoisted Velox upright. “There’s work to be done.”
“What’s the situation?” the oracle asked. “Have I missed much?”
“Only the beginning of civil war,” Davrim said dryly. 
“Who’s with us?” Velox asked.
“The centaurs,” Davrim said. “The halflings of Lohan. Our own people here in Fort Drelev, of course. Then there’s Tungdill.” Davrim shook his head. “That crazy old dwarf’s been running amok in the Narlmarches, animating trees and using all sorts of fey creatures as guerilla fighters. He’s sure be causing old Moxy more than her fair share of problems.”
“So who’s with her then?” Velox asked.
Davrim sighed. “The Sootscales for one. She’s also got the boggards of Hooktongue Slough. Convinced them that we were responsible for wiping out their chieftain. Plus, she’s also got the soldiers of Veritas behind her. The Tiger Lords are not with her, but they’re not with us either. They take any opportunity they can to use hit and run tactics against both sides.”
Velox raised his eyes to his friend, the inevitable question written in them. “Stevhan?”
“That, my friend,” Davrim said, “is a whole other story.”
__________________________________________________________

Harold the Herald looked in on the palace library at Stevhan, the Stag Lord, Duke of Pitax.  Though his people clamored for the hero to be named king, he would have none of it.  Instead, he kept the title of Duke, though he was no longer a subject of the Kardashian Queen – at least not politically.  The Duke was currently writing another letter, and Harold shook his head sadly.
The last thirteen years had been hard on Duke Stevhan.  Few knew the real story about what happened between the former rulers of Kardashia high on the frozen falls of Irrisen, but Harold was among the privileged company that knew the truth.  Mox may have convinced herself that the others betrayed her, but in fact, it was she who had betrayed them.  While Velox and Davrim opposed her rule overtly from their bastion at Fort Drelev, and Tungdill waged his own resistance through the very nature of the Stolen Lands, Stevhan had retreated to Pitax to distance himself from the chaos that had befallen Kardashia.

His first order of business was to proclaim by formal writ that Pitax was no longer subject to Kardashian rule, and that he would not initiate hostilities with his former nation.  However, if any hostilities were visited upon him or his lands, retribution would be swift and decisive.  It was simple, yet the resolve in those words was both strong and convicted – just like the Duke himself.

Meanwhile, Stevhan set about consolidating his rule.  Under Irovetti, Pitax had been an insulated nation that cared only about itself.  His selfish ambition had alienated potential allies both politically and economically.  The new Duke determined to change that.  Preceded by his reputation as a fair ruler and a worthy adversary who wielded one of the most powerful artifacts in the known world, Stevhan reached out to the other rulers of the River Kingdoms.  Again, his message was exceedingly simple:  Pitax would not encroach upon any of its neighbors, but would not hesitate to defend itself should anyone violate its borders or interests.  Pitax was also open for business.  With its strategic location along the tributaries of the Sellen River, the growing city was in a prime location for trade with Brevoy in the north, Numeria to the west, and the other River Kingdoms to the south.  The other rulers, while never fully-trusting anyone, still breathed a sigh of relief knowing that the great hero did not appear to have an eye on their lands.

Within his own lands, the Duke set about reforming Pitax itself.  Among the four noble houses, Stevhan found that he could trust almost no one.  The notable exception was the adventurous leader of the Vascari family, Jhofre Vascari.  The two men found kindred spirits in each other, and could often be found chatting over smoked cheese and beef at the Turning Wheel near the palace.  It was little surprise then that the Vascaris, who controlled most of the river trade along the Sellen, had benefitted greatly from the Duke’s friendship.  In order to curtail the power of the four families, Duke Stevhan had instituted a formal ruling council that included a representative from each of the families, a representative from each of the three city wards, and three “people’s champions” that were chosen from citizens of non-noble birth.  Ultimately, the Duke had final authority over all decisions, but he seemed to genuinely value the input from his council.

Not an art devotee himself, the Duke nonetheless continued official sponsorship of Irovetti’s  Academy of the Arts.  Thankfully, headmistress Atalia Gitaren had run off most of the worst of Irovetti’s cronies, and the Academy was beginning to produce a quality product.  Regrettably, the Red Crescent Theater was still putting on the same bad plays as always, but since the Duke had never set foot in the place, he didn’t really care.

Stevhan, though himself an adherent of Old Deadeye, allowed for the free worship of all good and neutral religions within his lands.  By his invitation, the monks of Cayden Cailean resanctified White Rose Abbey and resumed their wine production.  It wasn’t long before the White Rose label again became the most sought after vintage in the Inner Sea.  Merchants flocked to Pitax, attracted by the stability and the fair taxes.  The city and its environs grew rapidly as the Pitaxians reveled in a peacetime like none other in the River Kingdoms.

Still, the Duke was not content to ignore events swirling around his realm.  Kardashia was still at war with Fort Drelev, and despite a decade of near-constant conflict, neither side could gain any advantage.  While he refused to directly attack his erstwhile wife or her lands, Stevhan knew that if she overthrew Velox and Davrim that he would be next.  Despite his many faults, Irovetti had been a master of intelligence.  Stevhan granted all of the former Pitaxian heralds and wardens amnesty in return for their loyalty, and set them loose among the River Kingdoms to “do no harm, but gather all information.”

On the home front, the veteran ranger set aside one weekend each month for the training of a citizen militia.  As a result, the Pitaxian Reserves were some 10,000 strong, and could be called upon to defend their homeland with a week’s notice.  The Duke participated in these training sessions quite often, and the populace still marveled at his considerable skill with bow and blade.  

Through his spies, Stevhan learned of his statue in the Garden of the Great Betrayal, and his new nickname among the Kardashians -  “Stevhan the Craven”.   Indeed, no moniker could be more false.  Still, it wore on him that not only Mox, but his own people had turned against him.  More troublesome still was the notable lack of information about his son, Prince Henry.  While Stevhan was admittedly not a very good father, he still loved his son, and he was determined to make sure that he was all right.  Mox had not replied to his letters over the years, but still he wrote.

Still shaking his head, Harold turned away from the library and walked over to the conservatory windows.  From the high vantage point, the herald of Pitax looked out across the city and smiled.  Despite his personal tragedies, Duke Stevhan had triumphed in his remaking of Pitax.  It was no wonder then, that the Pitaxians had their own moniker for their leader, and called him Duke Stevhan the Wise.


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## Joachim

Nice job on the epilogue.  Ignore the attachment...this was supposed to go in the new Story Hour.


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## RedTonic

This was awesome. I am, in fact, amazed at the ending! Totally didn't anticipate civil war.


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## carborundum

Nor I! Still not quite sure what happened, to be sure, but it was still suitably epic


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## JollyDoc

carborundum said:


> Nor I! Still not quite sure what happened, to be sure, but it was still suitably epic




The torc required a guardian. When the witch killed the former guardian (the black smudge on the wall), she became the guardian. When she was killed, Velox failed his Will save (with a 1 I believe), and he became the guardian. When he, in turn, died, Stevhan was next to fall. 

Even so, for Mox, it was a convenient excuse. She'd been plotting this all along, as I tried to allude to in some of my interludes. Velox and Davrim had, in her view, thwarted her at every turn in her attempts to turn the kingdom into an entire. They had to be eliminated. Shades of this story will continue in Serpent's Skull


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## R-Hero

Can I not read one story hour where the guys in the white hats get the bad guy and ride off into the sunset with the girl??

What is the score now? 0 and 4, 0 and 5??
.
.
.
.
I just had a epiphany, Serpent Skull, All Evil, I smell a WIN!


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## Sandain

Hi Jollydoc and crew,

I was wondering if you have posted the PC's characters anywhere, or if they wouldnt mind doing so? Especially Velox and Sabrina.

Thanks!


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## JollyDoc

Sandain said:


> Hi Jollydoc and crew,
> 
> I was wondering if you have posted the PC's characters anywhere, or if they wouldnt mind doing so? Especially Velox and Sabrina.
> 
> Thanks!




I will pass the word along!


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## WarEagleMage

Well, here is Stevhan's final sheet. Briar does not fully reflect its full capability because I couldn't get it all in to HeroLab. Actually, I just realized that I had some spells active on the sheet, but not all. For instance, occasionally Stevhan would be Enlarged, with Lead Blades cast, and Greater Vital Striking for 12d6+33 - and that's if you weren't a favored enemy. Altogether a very fun character to play aside from the "build" - which I freely admit was very much in line with Treantmonk's Switch-hitter from his excellent Guide to Pathfinder Rangers (Google it if you're interested). The final update was my epilogue and I apologize that it was a bit incongruous with the rest. However, once Jollydoc posts Nessalin's backstory in the Serpent's Skull thread, things should fall into place for you guys. 

Oh, and since I just got my GenCon badge in the mail today, I want to invite anyone who plans to attend to stop by Jollydoc's Battle Royale to say hello. Joe (Jollydoc), Richard (Joachim/Mandi/Velox), Foster (Mox), and I (Marius/Adso/Katarina/Stevhan) will all be there and would love to see you guys.


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## Joachim

And here is Velox...I am impressed with the Battle Oracle.  He can kick some ass.  If I could go back and do it again, he would have taken the heavy flail instead of the greatsword, so I could use trip maneuvers with it.


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## Sandain

Thankyou


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## Cromm10k

I loved every update of this SH. Well done, Mr. JollyDoc!

I'm looking forward to your Serpent's Skull SH and how the halforc gang will develop.


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## JollyDoc

Cromm10k said:


> I loved every update of this SH. Well done, Mr. JollyDoc!
> 
> I'm looking forward to your Serpent's Skull SH and how the halforc gang will develop.




I like the way the story is developing so far. The PC's are so divergent, it creates for an interesting dynamic. They have absolutely no reason to trust nor work with each other than survival. Makes for great interplay.


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## Cromm10k

If you can make the group work with only survival as common goal: more power to you. We had this a couple of times and the campaigns never ended well. Lack of trust between characters paired with old interplayer grudges/rivalries killed the game.


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## Dax Thura

I like how the characters' lives all just barely connect and none of them realize it. It's as if fate is trying its best to get them together.


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## JollyDoc

Cromm10k said:


> If you can make the group work with only survival as common goal: more power to you. We had this a couple of times and the campaigns never ended well. Lack of trust between characters paired with old interplayer grudges/rivalries killed the game.




Well, that's our starting point. With any luck, they will form bonds, though with the self-centered natures of these particular PC's, they won't necessarily be bonds of deep friendship or love, unless it's a shared love of power and money.


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## JollyDoc

Dax Thura said:


> I like how the characters' lives all just barely connect and none of them realize it. It's as if fate is trying its best to get them together.




Yep...we planned it this way...sort of a daisy chain leading from one to the next.


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## Cromm10k

Dax Thura said:


> I like how the characters' lives all just barely connect and none of them realize it. It's as if fate is trying its best to get them together.




QFT, this gave the prelude a special touch.


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## carborundum

Loving it already! This is starting off very interestingly - I'm lookin gforward to seeing how deep the kobold hole goes


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## Mr Haldol

*Mox Character Sheets*







The name Mox was short for Megan Fox. I've added her picture to represent how I envision the queen in her little black dress.

To understand what happened in the final adventure, allow me to explain a bit. Mox's alignment changed from neutral good to true neutral when her consort Kane (a magus and father of Nessalin) was killed. Kane was killed by a Wall of Fire spell cast by Tungdel that brought both Kane and a gnomish ghost to their deaths. This trauma changed Mox's view of the world and she became something of a mother bear who saw Kardashia and her son as her cubs. From this point on, she worked to rule more as a dictator and less through the council. She tried to talk Selena into giving her the Eye which she was going to keep as a "just in case" weapon. Selena was reluctant and eventually was urged to take the Eye herself. Mox and Selena conspired to create the title of "the Duke of Pitax" and make sure Stephan was elected. They also voted to give the sword, Bryar, to Stephan over Davrim. With Stephan a respectable Duke, Mox then seduced him and bore him a fine son. Once Mox learned of the Torc, she planned on keeping it for herself to keep as a weapon to protect Kardashia. She anticipated that Velox and Davrim would object to her keeping it. Both Velox and Davrim had objected loudly to her creating and keeping the undead black dragons. Velox had also tried to destroy the Eye (striking it with his sword) as we discussed what to do with it.

This brings me to my OOC plans. Knowing that the next characters were going to be evil, I wanted to end the adventure with some conflict that might explain how Mox's son developed his convictions and personality. My plan was to set up Velox (who tried to destroy the evil Eye artifact) in a Harry Dresden style decision. I wanted Mox to obtain the torc and then tell everyone that she was keeping it. I theorized Velox would demand it be destroyed. Mox would then declare him a traitor and order him to lay down his arms to stand trial. He would refuse and a fight would ensue. However, things went better than expected. After the witch guardian died, an unknown power compelled Velox to become the new guardian of the torc and he was forced to attack Mox. Once he attacked Mox, it confirmed her fears of a traitor after her crown and she killed Velox with a quickened true strike + a maximized disintegration. His armor revived him with a breath of life but he was immediately struck down by Stephan. Once down, Mox finished him with a magic missle. After all, Mox was not known as a merciful queen... Just ask the previous King of Pitax. After that, Stephan became the new guardian and attacked Selena. Tungdel and Davrim attacked Mox and all hell broke loose.

I'm curious to know what people think of everyone's actions in the final outcome. Was Mox evil in killing Velox or was this self defense? Was it treason for Tungdel and Davrim to attack Mox immediately afterwards? Should Stevhan have defended his wife and Queen, remained neutral, or ally with Davrim and Tungdel?


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## Mr Haldol

View attachment Mox.pdf


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## Schmoe

Wow, I just finished this story hour.  Great re-telling, JD.  I can't tell you how much I appreciate the effort that goes into this.  

The players really made it interesting, too.  That was a pretty epic finish, and the denouement sets up a follow-on perfectly.  I can't wait to get started on the Serpent Kingdoms.


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## JollyDoc

Schmoe said:


> Wow, I just finished this story hour.  Great re-telling, JD.  I can't tell you how much I appreciate the effort that goes into this.
> 
> The players really made it interesting, too.  That was a pretty epic finish, and the denouement sets up a follow-on perfectly.  I can't wait to get started on the Serpent Kingdoms.




Thank you, Sir! These are definately a labor of love, but I think they help bring the campaign to life a bit for my players, and encourage them to be more creative with their characters. They're the ones that bring the story to life, and I'm lucky to have such a great group. Hang in there for Serpent's Skull...it's shaping up to be spectacular!


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