# PHDungeons Nentir Vale homebrew



## PHDungeon (Nov 15, 2009)

We recently finished our Second Darkness campaign, which followed on the heels of our Savage Tide campaign. It was very enjoyable, though I liked Savage Tide a little better, and now I've decided to take a break from the APs and go with my own homebrew.

I'm using the Nentir Vale from the 4E dmg as a starting point, but I've given it a much more Norse feel. I won't be writing journals of the sessions because I don't have the time, but I will post the ones my players write and hopefully through those anyone who chooses to read this will be able to piece together the jist of the storyline.

Our party is beginning with the following characters

Darren Androsax- human, male fighter 1 
Deryl Androsax- human , female sorcerer 1 
Belladonna- changeling, rogue 1 
Bjorn- human, male cleric of Thor 1 
Torfinn, deva, male Invoker of the Aseir gods 1

The heroes begin the campaign having made their way north to Fallcrest from the city of Grimsburg. Bella is on the hunt for a killer name Randall Flagg and has tracked the man to Fallcrest.


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## PHDungeon (Nov 15, 2009)

The following is Bella's first journal. It is in the format of a letter to Victor Starke- her patron in the city of Grimsburg.

Victor,

It has been a long, and except for these last few days in Fallcrest, uneventful journey. The Androsax siblings, Derren the older brother and Deryl, his nine year old sister, have kept out of my way and for that I am grateful. I fail to understand why he has taken this child with him when the path he travels is so dangerous and though he would be more than willing to share the information I don’t ask him for it.

Initially I believed Derren to be an idiot who couldn’t get enough of hearing his own voice, but he’s proven to be quite useful. He’s an unusual fighter, surprisingly acrobatic with an extensive knowledge of history. Initially he would try to tell me things of his family line and blather on about his house and wars but lately he’s gotten the hint that I’m just not interested. He’s been a good face for our intrepid trio and seems to get along with just about anybody. In battle he can be brave to the point of foolishness. I myself witnessed him jump off the roof of a house to land upon his enemy screaming like a maniac. Although he is a capable warrior, witnessing behaviour such as this makes me worry for Deryl’s future as an orphan.

His sister Deryl I consider a liability. Every time I look at her I cannot help seeing a short fused explosive. Her tiny body is literally bursting with arcane energies of which she can barely control. These abilities are at their most potent during moments of high emotion. Thankfully she is a quiet child for her age, reserving herself to the occasional sarcastic remark. She and her brother are inseparable. Her older brother watches over her as a mother would. There is some confusion in fact over whether or not their parents are dead, Deryl insists that they are gone where as Derren insists they still live. I suspect that their parents abandoned the girl due to her curse and there may be animosity there. Perhaps my discomfort towards the child comes from my own slowly emerging powers. Though thankfully not as potent as hers, watching her gives me an idea of my own future. Being older, more disciplined and less powerful, I should be more in control of my abilities than she is. At least I hope I will be. May The All Father watch over and protect me.

As I have said before we found travel on a trading ship heading in our direction. The halflings that piloted it were a cheery bunch and thankful to have the protection that we provided even though, for this trip anyway, they had no need of it. In a brief stop over in Olsted we met with two more strangers who would later become our companions. The one, Bjorn, is a cleric of Thor, and the other, Torfinn, also wields Thor’s power but in a different way.

Of the pair, Torfinn is the more interesting. He is stoic, and after weeks trapped on a skiff with Derren I liked him immediately for his long silences. He is a bit of a mystery. He arrived as full grown man during a thunderstorm on the footsteps of Bjorn’s monastery. He speaks in whispers, and very sparingly. He is also oddly dispassionate, never showing any emotion; except for perhaps slight irritation at his traveling companion. I have also seen him in battle and it is impressive. Lightning shoots from his fingertips with barely an utterance and a mere flick of his hand. All those who worship Rao will question their faith should they see him in battle for it is plain he wields the power of Thor himself and it is great.

Last I come to the cleric, Bjorn. To put it plainly the man is a pervert. I only tolerate him because he is a cleric and as such invaluable to any company in our business. I loathe the day that I fall unconscious and am in need of his healing touch but besides his constant lewd remarks he seems harmless. On the other hand, he is far from harmless on the battlefield. I watched as he took several strikes that would have felled lesser men and he still fought. It was like watching those demonic machine men of old do battle. Although I can barely tolerate his company, he is too valuable an asset to leave.

Soon we will be embarking from Fallcrest to follow the trail of Randall Flagg. His dementia seems to be getting worse as he has caused several violent murders in this town before fleeing to the countryside. He seems to have descended into a feral state and I am concerned that it is due to an outside influence that is in his possession. We have acquired the services of an able tracker and should apprehend him soon. As usual, I will keep you apprised of our journey.

Belladonna

The Lady Nightshade


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## PHDungeon (Nov 15, 2009)

This letter is from the perspective of Darren Androsax (the fighter). It is a letter to his older brother Corvin.

Dear Corvin,

You are probably out looking for us, big brother – but we are safe. I am writing from an inn in a northern town far from Grimsburg. Outside my window, the sun has just risen and set fire to the tar of night. The ice is falling away as the river crests the cliff above town. That’s right – we entered the vale. I know you wanted to take it slow – research this, secure that – but we are heroes! We killed some flagon Orcs!

Let me explain – well, I guess I got a lot of explaining to do. When mother said those things to Deryl, and the explosion happened ... well, I just bundled her up and headed to Starke. I had to get her out of Grimsburg, you understand? When Deryl resurfaced she was so worried about what had happened. I made up something then – and maybe it was stupid – but I said that maybe mother and father simply disappeared in the dark conflagration and we had to run away.

I found Belladonna pretty quickly – Starke’s woman, the cinder-hot one who smells of machine oil – and she agreed to accompany us up north in search of Crumm’s killer. So we set out on our first adventure.

I know you are always saying we are too young – but I have gotten good with my blades and Deryl is getting more control over her dark gift by the day. You remember how great grandfather Doriolanus lied about his age to fight in the Bloodspear War? Well, maybe we are just carrying on the family tradition. You would be proud of us, I bet – we hooked up with some priests of Thor – tough, mystic men, not like those snivelling sycophants of Rao. The older one Bjorn is cool as ice – he even carved Thor’s symbol into a shrine to Rao’s saints! Torvinn, the younger one is more frosty and quiet. Makes me feel like he’s hiding something. Deryl thinks he’s alright, and I suppose he is – as long as he stays indifferent to Deryl’s big blinking eyes.

So I looked around the town we reached – and no sign of the Androsax crest so far. There are still some ruins I have to look through though. Oh, and the local ruler is named Markelhay. See if you can dig some dirt on his family in the archives. I have been pretty quiet about our royal name so far – you would be proud. Your little brother has become quite silent and suave. I’m sure our new friends think I’m at least twenty-five!

Anyway – the Orcs. Basically, they raided a dwarven caravan full of ale, and we joined a ranger to attack them at a ruined monastery. Deryl insisted she come along, and I didn’t want an arcane tantrum in front of the others, so ... well, it turned out anvil in the end. Deryl and I crept up the side of a cliff – easy stuff with our gear, and while she hid, I dropped on a mother-flagon orc chief. You should of seen it – it was dawn, our breath was white in the stillness, and I distracted the chief in my best Skanzi. I leapt, like Dorialanus did, and sliced him a good one. He got me too – you should see the scar! – and Bella had to finish the job with that crazy clockwork crossbow of hers before I got back in the fight. Bjorn and Torfinn are like Thor’s lightning and thunder – I hope they stick with us some more!

Anyway, I’m rambling again but I really wanted to say – we are doing great. And sorry, too – after what Deryl did, I had no choice. Hopefully her memory never recovers. And don’t come looking for us – we are grown up now. To show you, I am sending some gold we earned – for the funeral and repairs. 
Derre


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## PHDungeon (Nov 15, 2009)

This is the first journal of Darren's sister Deryl, who is just reaching womanhood and trying to get hold of her burgeoning sorceress talents. She writes well for a nine year old. The education system in the Nentir vale is clearly quite good.

Dear Diary,

Oh, but it was nice to bathe today! Derren may not notice he wears weeks worth of dirt but travelling with only the barest of necessities has left me feeling...what exactly?...I would say saddle sore, but we travelled by ship, so I'm not sure what that's called.

Such a strange feeling walking upon land again after so long on the boats. Alas, but I am becoming used to 'strange feelings'...I do so wish to know what is happening with me. Derren, of all the family, seems unphased by the strange changes taking place. That, as you know 'dear diary' is why I so wickedly forced my company upon him; I could no longer bear the way Mama looked at me.

I do miss her though, mama I mean. Derren is sweet and protective but I'm shy to ask him about 'the change'. There is another woman travelling with us, but like the rest of our companions she mostly ignores me; she's already made it clear that I am a burden. Belladonna, such a name! and such a woman, like a heroine straight out of the novels but pretty enough to be the princess.

Bjorn is another who's made it clear that I am most unwelcome...Oh, Derren, I'm so sorry again to have put you in this uncomfortable position!...If Belladonna is the princess then surely Bjorn is the villain. He likes women much as he likes drink...cheap and in quantity. Derren thinks I don't understand but I understand only too well...Bjorn is a wicked, dirty man.

Torfinn on the other hand is just dreamy. I have never seen such a man as he. It is quite the story I find myself in 'dear diary'; we've a princess, a villain and a dashing prince from exotic lands. Why, he even seems to glow; its scary, but beautiful at the same time.

I don't really know how Derren and I fit into this story taking shape around us...of course Derren talks so much, he must be the narrator...haha! Poor, poor Derren. So proud and ever the 'noble' , despite his many times mended clothing and tattered boots. What is in a name anyway, we were happy and so much the richer for it.

Surely I'm no great player. Adventures like this aren't meant for 9 year old girls, I don't feel grown up even if my 'womanly cycles' have started. Mama says its best to be seen and not heard, and she's half right...that is to say I think now its best if I'm neither seen nor heard.

Alright 'dear diary', its time to go...I'm so excited!! Derren is taking me to a BAR !!


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## PHDungeon (Nov 15, 2009)

Personal Journal of Bjorn Thorskirk

It is good to be out in the world, I had as much contemplation as I could take. As followers of Thor we should be out in the world ensuring that the faith is strong enough to withstand the cowardly subterfuge of the southern gods. That never again shall we have to practise in secret awaiting to regain strength.

The trip to Fallcrest was quite enjoyable and uneventful. It is good to be travelling with Torfinn, someone I know I can count on, even though our paths in the service to Thor differ I feel this is a strength. As for the rest of our party Belladonna is a comely and capable lass, if a little full of herself. She is pleasing to the eye and has potential but I am not sure she has the wit or wisdom to use if effectively. I will play the letch for a while as it is an amusing diversion and will no doubt cause her and others to misjudge me. I am aware that I have neither the comely mien or slickness of tongue of others and to compensate must therefore play to expectation. I use their lack of insight to drive them where they cannot be led.

Talking of glibness of tongue brings me Darren Androsax and his sister Deryl. What is the fool, and his parents, thinking bringing a child along to such dangers as we may be facing?. Childhood is short enough and the world a brutal place, each Child should be nurtured and protected until they come to terms with their own changes before having to deal with what the greater world has to throw at them. As burgeoning with power as she may be she is not yet developed enough of body or mind to be experiencing such as we will if any other choice exists. I fear for the adult she may become in dealing with the horrors we will surely face on top of learning to properly control the powers that she obviously is developing. I fear she is a danger to both us and herself. Darren is a capable fighter, decent historian and quick of tongue. Though I feel he needs to focus more on the future and building his own legacy than the past glory of his family. He is young yet and hopefully maturity will come.

Shortly after arriving in Fallcrest we learned of a murder of a local inn owner, apparently the one responsible is someone of interest to the Androsax's and Belladonna. In the course of looking into this we found that local inns were running out of ale and that a normal Dwarven caravan was overdue.

Returning to our inn we found ourselves in the middle of a town meeting in which we learned the caravan had been attached by Orc raiders, a few hours journey from the town. This was of concern to all, as the town has still not fully recovered from the last raids. The local militia was stretched too thin to deal with the problem. At this a despicable proselytizer of Rao got up to ask the people to volunteer for the glory of his 'god' , I could not tolerate this and got up and said if justice would be done it would be through the strength of Thor that we would bring war to these retched Orcs. The support of the crowd was gratifying. Immediately two brothers, who apparently do not get along, began to form two groups to go after the Orcs. We elected to join up with Bran the younger, yet more level headed of the two. The elder headed off immediately while we elected to better prepare and head out in the morning.

The following day we set out and around midday found the site of the attack, the carnage was upsetting , I cannot imagine the effect on Deryl, a nd I am not sure if I would be more upset at her being very disturbed or not. A few of those travelling with us were ill at the sight. From there Bran was able to easily track the band back to their camp, a fortified tor in the middle of a small vale. We could easily see their watch tower from the cover of the trees and knew approaching in full light would be foolhardy. We also found Bran's brother and his group while scouting and were able to come to an agreement to work together.

It was decided that we would sneak up on the position in the dark before dawn and attach as dawn broke ñ the Orcs would most likely be in their cups and the guard the least attentive. There were also a couple breaks in the wall atop the more shear parts of the tor. Darren and Deryl would attempt to access the fort from the break and the rest of us would attack though the gate. I was hoping that Deryl would not make the climb and avoid what was coming, to no avail. As dawn broke we made our attack there was a makeshift moat rampart and palisade just inside the gate that slowed us down so I lead the charge and manged to make the firm ground which I held while others made their way. Belladona was very effective with her crossbow taking out many before they could join the fray, as was Torfinn calling upon Thor's might as was to be expected. Our enemy was varied in their abilities some being felled easily and others requiring much more effort. Of particular note was Darren who when the obvious leader of the Orcs came out made a mad dash along the roof of a building and dove into combat with the brute landing a great blow in the process. I did not see Deryl and hoped she had been put somewhere safe. My concern for the child distracted me and the enemy landed a couple of particularly painful blows requiring me to call upon the strength of Thor to see me though. A strength I would prefer to use to support others of our party. I had particular difficulty shaking off the poison from the Orc witch landed with one of those blows. In the end we were victorious. There were a few losses, but as they fell in battle I am sure they are enjoying their reward in Valhalla. Interestingly none of the losses were those of us who travelled with Bran and took the extra time to prepare. We have sent a party back to get wagons that we may better transport the remaining goods back to Fallcrest and their rightful owner the Dwarves. Apparently this was formerly a temple or monastery of Rao, which probably explains how Orcs came to take it over. I have left a suitable mark of Thor to help begin to set thing right, and shortly after we found some items that will further help us. I see the wagons return and it is time to get to work that is all for now.


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## PHDungeon (Nov 15, 2009)

Game Session #1

Here's the quick summary to fill in any holes that can't be deduced by the PC journals.

The heroes travelled north to Fallcrest in pursuit of the murderous Randall Flagg.

Backstory:

Spoiler
Bella's patron, a local crimelord from the city of Grimsburg named Victor Starke, had recently hired Flagg for his sagely expertise (the nature of which I will not say right now in case my players happen to look at this). When Starke one of his men to check on Flagg's progress, Flagg brutally killed the man, and may also have set fire to his home before fleeing Grimsburg. Now Starke wants him and has sent Bella to hunt him down.

End Spoiler

They arrived in Fallcrest and started knocking around town looking for clues. They discovered that Flagg had arrived in town a few days earlier in the company of a merchant from Diamond Lake name Belebar Smenk and several of Smenk's mercenaries. However, Flagg apparently killed a pair of prostitutes at the Lucky Gnome. He then fled back to the Inn where he'd been staying, gathered his things, broke into Belebar's room and looted Belebar's strong chest. As he was leaving the Inn he was confronted by the Innkeeper and the Innkeeper's eldest son. Flagg brutally killed both of them as well and then fled town.

Once the heroes learned of these events they stepped up their detective work. They went and spoke with the wife of the dead Innkeeper at the Cliffwatch and checked out the murder scene. They learned that Flagg had killed the pair with his bare hands and even devoured some of their flesh. The widow was terribly distraught.

Next they went to the Blue Moon tavern where they heard Smenk was hanging out. There they found Smenk and learned that Flagg had stolen a bunch of money from him. They also learned that Smenk had a mining charter for an old silver mine near Fallcrest and that he and his mercenaries were planning to go run the resident kobolds out of the mine, so that he could get it operational. Finally, the learned that after the long winter the town was desperately low on ale, and the local tavern keepers were all impatiently waiting for a shipment to arrive from the dwarven town of Hammerfast. In fact the kegs ran out while they were at the Blue Moon and that sent Smenk and his drunken men off drunk through town (causing trouble) to find another bar.

The next day they discovered that a dwarf had arrived in town with news that his caravan had been hit not far outside Fallcrest by an orc warband, and that the orcs had managed to slaughter the dwarves and steal all the ale kegs, which were the primary items being shipped. The tavern and Innkeepers got together and pooled their money for a reward and a town meeting was held. Lord Markelhay addressed the crowd and explained that with orc warbands in the area he couldn't afford to send out the militia to track down the stolen ale, but he would offer a bounty on orc ears and their was the reward for the return of the ale.

A pair of brothers, both local hunters volunteered to lead men to get back the ale. As it turned out, the brothers hated eachother and each formed their own band. The heroes decided to join up with Brand Skinner, the younger brother and help him and a couple others who joined him. The next morning they set out.

They investigated the site of the wrecked caravan and then tracked the orc band to ruined monestary up on a high rocky tor. They orcs had fortified it with a wooden watch tower and had a commanding view of the countryside. The heroes also figured there were at least 20 orcs left in the warband. In the woods nearby they found Lyle's band (Brand's despised brother) waiting for nightfall to close on the tor. The heroes decided to negotiate with them and make an alliance. Lyle and Brand were both hesitant because of their hatred for eachother, but the heroes convinced the two brothers that the orcs were too numerous and dangerous to take on independently.

In the end they joined forces, and waited until just before dawn the next day, as they figured the orcs would have been drinking all night and thus would be vulnerable. This proved to be a good assumption, for the sound of the orcs' boozing could be heard all night long.

The two human warbands made their way up the narrow trail to orcs camp and there they attacked the foul creatures. It proved to be a nasty skirmish, but thanks to the heroics and skills of the PCs most of the casualties were on the orcs side. Lyle's band lost three men.

There was some hostility between Brand and Lyle after the fight, but Lyle's band was too weak to do much, so cooler head prevailed. The ale (along with many pair of orc ears) was returned to Fallcrest and the rewards collected.

The PCs now plan to head north, for that's the direction Flagg was seen headed. They have recruited Brand to help them since he knows the local geography well, and is a capable tracker.


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## PHDungeon (Nov 15, 2009)

This is the campaign Handout I sent my players.

The Nentir Vale:
The vale is a sparsely settled frontier region in the northern portions of the former Empire of Nerath. The remains of this dead empire still dot the land in the form of ruined manors, monasteries and the like. The largest human settlement in the vale is the town of Fallcrest, which sits on the Nentir River. However, if one follows the trade road east from Fallcrest, one will reach the dwarven fortress of Hammerfast, which is said to be larger. Beyond these two locations, are several small and relatively isolated communities. There are also several ruins of note. One is the legendary ruin now known as Thunderspire. Thunderspire is said to consist of the remains of a minotaur city, and it is believed that an entire minotaur kingdom occupied much of the vale some time before it was settled by the humans of Nerath. Another storied location is Wyvernskull mountain. Wyvernskull mountain is said to be among the Cairngorm peeks northwest of the village of Winterhaven. It is believed to be the home of a warlock of tremendous power, and every now and again a brave or foolish soul makes the trek to the mountain in hopes of apprenticing him or herself to the warlock. Few of these folk have ever been seen again, and there is much speculation regarding their fate.

Fallcrest: This town is the first destination for many travelers who enter the Vale. People come to the Vale for many reasons. Many are merchants wishing to trade in Fallcrest or with the isolated communities of the Vale. Some are adventurers and mercenaries who seek riches that they believe can be plundered from the many ruins of former Nerath that dot the landscape. Others are settlers and prospectors who make their way north looking for opportunities to start a new life for themselves and their families. Opportunities abound in the vale for the brave and the bold, and the town of Fallcrest is good place to start one’s search. The actual people and places of Fallcrest will be introduced during game play.

Beyond the Vale: Though the campaign will begin in the Vale some characters may have come from beyond its borders and eventually heroes may well wish to explore the world outside the vale. If one follows the Nentir River south from Fallcrest and beyond the Witchlight fens, one will eventually arrive in the port city of Grimsburg. Grimsburg is much smaller these days than it was during the height of the Empire, but it is still a sizable city and it is the place that many of Fallcrest’s visiting merchants come from. The city is reputed to be a fetid den of vice and corruption. It has long been a haven for outcasts and practitioners of the arcane arts, and many rumors abound around its most notorious district- The Styes a place that is home to outcasts of the worst sort, and a place where corrupt arcanists perform dark rituals and conduct strange alchemical experiments. If one chooses to travel east form Fallcrest along the trade road, beyond Hammerfast and the Dawnforge mountains one will arrive in the town of Draconsburg. North of the Vale is the sprawling Winterbole Forest, which is home to tribes of human and shifter barbarians. Beyond that is frigid orc infested tagia. The tribes of the Winterbole make constant war against the orcs, for the foul humanoids are ever encroaching on their lands and cutting the trees of the forest to fuel their fires and build their homes. 

Much of the knowledge of the wider world was lost with the fall of Nerath. It is known that from Grimsburg one has access to the North Sea and from there one can travel to any number of strange lands. The taverns of Grimsburg abound with strange tales of other lands, and some of them make their way to Fallcrest. Stories speak of a militant empire of hobgoblins capable of metalcraft that rivals even the dwarves. Another story tells of a sprawling nation to the far south ruled by Serpent folk, and it is said that Nerath was founded by escaped slaves from this nation. Other tales talk of an ancient land called Nubia ruled by black skinned sorcerer kings, and these are merely a small taste of the stories one might hear of the wider world.

General Character Creation Guidelines:
For this campaign use the standard character creation method presented in the player’s handbook. If you prefer to roll your stats you can if you do it in front of myself and all the other players (for our entertainment). You can freely use any of the races or classes presented below. If you wish to use something that isn’t mentioned (Jeff) then talk to me about it. You can pick powers, abilities and feats freely from the phb and phb II. You can also choose powers from other sources, but if I see anything that looks too broken I reserve the right to nix it or work out a change that will make it work. Finally, I’m okay with using the background rules presented in the phb II. If you see a background that you like you can use it. I’m considering doing a bit of modification to the Skills- mostly filling in a few gaps (In particular, I miss the ride and perform skill), but nothing too crazy. Let me know if you have suggestions in that regard.

Races:

Humans: Humans are the dominant race in the region, and most of the people of Fallcrest are human. Only two ethnicities are normally found in the vale. The first is the Skanzi peoples. The Skanzi are a Nordic people who have lived in the north for centuries. They tend to be tall with fair hair and fair skin. The great jarls of old that lived in the vale before the rise of the empire were all Skanzi who venerated the Aesir gods. As the empire of Nerath expanded northward, the Nerathni people moved into the region. The Nerathni tend of have dark hair and swarthier complexions than the Skanzi and are more likely to be followers of Rao the sun god. These two people have lived among one another in the vale for several centuries now and there has been much mixing between the two groups, and it can often be hard to distinguish between the two. However, it is not uncommon to see an individual that is clearly of Nerathni or Skanzi stock. In the vale the Skanzi are the more common of the two groups.

Dwarves: Some dwarves make their home in Fallcrest. Most dwarves found in the vale originate from the stronghold of Hammerfast, and they frequently trade with humans in the vale. The dwarves of the region worship the Aesir gods.

Elves: Though few elves call Fallcrest home, several bands of nomadic elves can be found hunting and gathering in the Harken Forest in the southern section of the Vale, and they occasionally travel beyond its borders. Most elves venerate the Vanir gods and/or the primal spirits of the land.

Halflings: Many Halflings live among the urban human settlements particularly in Grimsburg, and they are relatively common in the vale even though they have no communities of their own in the region. They are the most common demihumans in Fallcrest. Most halfings in the region worship the Aesir gods or Rao.

Eladrin: Eladrin are not common in the vale. South of the Harken Forest is a small settlement called Moonstair. It is known to have an ancient portal that leads to the Feywild and several eladrin call this village home. Sailors in Grimsburg also speak of a mist shrouded island that sometimes appears in the North Sea. The island is said to host a city or possibly even kingdom of eladrin. Most eladrin worship the Vanir gods. It is said the gnome clans living in the Harken wood know of secret ways to reach the Feywild through the forest, which could provide another means of accessing eladrin lands.

Half Elves: A small number of half elves reside in Fallcrest or the vicinity. Most are well off farmers or herders living near the town; others are expert artisans in the town. Some are the result of the union of humans and elves from the Harken Forest. Others come from Grimsburg, where nearly any race can be found.

Tieflings: Grimsburg has the largest population of Tieflings in the region and the odd one makes his or her way into the vale from this city. They tend to be looked on with suspicion. Tieflings orginate from the fallen empire of Bhael Turath. Bhael Turath is across the Sunset Sea, west of what was once Nerath (and prior to that Arkohsia). At its best it was a mighty human nation that was allied with Arkohsia, and together the two nations battled Summaria in the east, the Serpent Nations to the south and the various hordes of to the north. Eventually Bhael Turath fell sway to the powers of Hell, and turned against Arkohsia, and in their ensuing wars they destroyed one another. Bhael Turath is now a vast wilderness speckled with the shattered, devil haunted remains of its cities and settlements. Expeditions from more civilized land frequently journey there in search of plunder among its many ruins, and more than one tiefling dreams of reestablishing this fallen empire. A few tieflings still serve the powers of Hell, but many have converted to the common faiths of the region such as worship of the Aesir gods or Rao.

Dragonborn: Most Dragonborn come from lands to the south of the North Sea, usually arriving in Grimsburg and making their way north from there. Long before the rise of Nerath the bulk of the land that became that nation was once the legendary draconic empire of Arkohsia. It was said to have been ruled by dragonborn and metallic dragons that served the god Bahamut. Arkohsia flourished for centuries, but its doom was inevitable, for it was forever besieged by enemies on all sides. To the east was a terrible enemy in the form of the mighty empire of Summaria. Summaria was another nation of dragonborn, but one devoted to Tiamat, and the two nations were constantly locked in war. To Arkohsia’s north was savage wilderness, lands home to tribes of wild humans, orcs, shifters, ogres, giants and other creatures who raided their lands at every opportunity. In the west they had an ally in the human nation of Bhael Turath, but eventually that nation fell sway to rulers of Hell and turned against the noble dragonborn of Arkohsia. To make matters worse, more enemies were in the south in the form of the mighty Serpent Kingdoms. Thus, it was just a matter of time before Arkohsia fell. However, the noble empire did not go down without a fight, and it brought with it the nations of Summaria and Bhael Turath. For the next several centuries the lands that once housed these empires sunk into a turbulent age of darkness. Finally the empire of Nerath arose in Arkohsia’s place when Amra led his army of freed slaves across the Sea of Scales to escape the Serpent Kingdoms. Order was gradually restored and over time the Empire expanded ever northward. The remaining clans of the dragonborn integrated themselves into the new human empire, and to this day the scions of fallen Arkohsia still dwell in the lands that their ancestors once ruled. Most dragonborn still devote themselves to Bahamut.

Shifters: There are several tribes of this ancient race dwelling in the Winterbole forest, and they sometimes trade pelts and amber for metal and cloth with the humans of the vale. Shifters tend be primal, and most clans venerate powerful nature spirits rather than the gods.

Half Orcs: Orcs are a common threat to the Vale, and as a result, half orcs are not unheard of in the vale, though they are often looked on with suspicion and fear. The Aesir gods tend to appeal to half orcs, but some worship the primal spirits of the land.

Goliaths: It is said that a few tribes of Goliath live in the Dawnforge mountains. They are fairly reclusive, but occasionally trade with the dwarves or people of the vale. They usually venerate the spirits of their mountain homes, and few Goliaths pray to any god.

Gnomes: Several clans of gnomes make their homes in the Harkenwood in the Nentir Vale, but they generally maintain a low profile. They do interact with the elf clans of the forest, and it is said that they know the locations of secret magical crossroads that lead to the Feywild. On occasion a wanderlust stricken gnome will leave the Harken wood to explore the vale and the wider world. Gnomes sometimes worship nature spirits, but often pay homage to their mysterious fey trickster god, whose name they don’t share with outsiders.

Devas: There are currently no known Devas in the vale for they are rare individuals. Devas are most commonly known to serve Rao or Bahamut. On rare occasions a Deva may be found that serves the Aesir gods.

Hobgoblins: In the north most tribes of hobgoblins are fairly barbaric and aggressive. In the far southeast, there is said to be a vast empire of hobgoblins. These hobgoblins are known to be great civilization builders, and though they are aggressive and warlike, they also have merchants and mercenaries who travel far and wide to trade with and sell their services to other cultures of the known world. Few southern hobgoblins ever make it as far north as the Nentir Vale, but they certainly visit Grimsburg on occasion, and it is said that a large company of hobgoblin mercenaries helped defend the vale from orcs during the Bloodspear war. Most hobgoblins worship Tiamat.

Warforged: Are extremely rare in the north, and their existence is unknown to folk of the vale. Warforged were originally created by the humans of Bhael Turath for use in the defense of their nation. These living constructs were put to great use in the wars against the dragonborn empire of Arkhosia and they were destroyed by the thousands during the wars. After the fall of Bhael Turath knowledge of their creation was lost to the world. However, it is said that savage tribes of warforged still haunt the wilderness and ruined cities that was once Bhael Turath. Since the fall of Nerath there has been a renewed interest in things arcane, and mages in places such has Grimsburg have sent expeditions to Bhael Turath with the task of bringing back a warforged for study, in hopes that the secret of their creation can be unlocked.

Changelings: Most people have heard stories of this enigmatic race, but because of their ability to disguise themselves as members of other races, few folk have any idea as to how many of them exist in the world. They could be anywhere or anyone.

Martial Classes: 
All martial classes are common throughout the north. Warlords and fighters usually wear chain or scale male. They often carry shields. Most fighters and warlords in the north use javelins or occasionally short bows for ranged weapons. Rangers, elves and occasionally shifters and eladrin are among the few folk who have mastered the longbow. Rogues usually use short swords or daggers, as rapiers do not exist in this world.

Magic and Arcane Classes:
Magic Items are highly prized in the north. They are rarely available to buy in rural areas, and must usually be discovered (send me your wishlists). Occasionally a magic item may be for sale in a place like Fallcrest, and certainly there are wizards and priests in places like Grimsburg who can create magic items and may have the odd one for sale.

Though the world is a magical place (about the same level of magic as a typical dnd world), spellcasters are fairly rare in the north, and sometimes looked on with fear and suspicion especially in rural areas. Magic is more common in urban areas and the far south. Many stories of powerful practitioners of magic come from the near mythical serpent kingdoms, and the Nubian sorcerer kings. During the rule of the empire of Nerath the practice of arcane magic was banned, for the clergy of Rao associated the arcane arts with the evil of the serpent kingdoms and believed that arcane energies corrupted the soul. Over the centuries much arcane learning was lost; thousands of tomes, spell books, scrolls and other implements of the art were all burned and destroyed. During this imperial magic prohibition many arcane casters were driven to the northern reaches of the empire where traditions of arcane magic had existed for centuries and where the clergy of Rao had the least sway over the populace. Grimsburg became a haven for magic users, and places like Fenmark in the east have boasted talented spellcaster since before the rise of Nerath. Since the fall of the empire the art has slowly gained wider acceptance, but practitioners of magic still tend to be distrusted by followers of Rao.

Wizards: Wizards are rare in the vale, but Grimsburg is a haven for them. During the magic prohibition practitioners of the art were driven to the edges of the empire, and many made there way north. Grimsburg thrived as a place where outcasts of the empire could find a home for themselves, and many of those outcasts were wizards. Few have much interest in venturing into the vale, but some come looking for rare ritual components, ruins to explore or an isolated place to conduct their research. Wizards are believed to be much more common in the nations to the south. Wizards in the north often pay tribute to Odin.

Warlocks: Similar to wizards, many can be found in Grimsburg. Warlocks were even more distrusted than wizards during the prohibition and many were burned at the stake, as they were condemned as being evil by the clergy of Rao. In the vale there is one warlock of legend- the Warlock of Wyvernspur mountain. This warlock is an enigmatic figure, and his name comes up late at night in the taverns of Fallcrest. He is believed to be a Star Pact warlock and over the years several would be apprentices have made their way from Fallcrest or Grimsburg to his lair. Few have ever been seen again.

Sorcerers: Like warlocks and wizards, sorcerers are rare in the vale, but can be found in Grimsburg. It is believed that the most powerful sorcerers in the world are the Nubian sorcerer kings, but the nature of their magic is more based on myth and legend than fact.

Bards: Prior to the rise of Nerath that north had a great tradition of music, song and story, and its bards were known as skalds. Since the fall of the empire this tradition has gradually been regaining popularity, and bards are generally welcomed in the vale and the taverns of Fallcrest. Bards in the north often pay tribute to Balder or Odin.

Swordmages: The swordmage tradition is an ancient one. It is still practiced among the eladrin, but rarely seen elsewhere, and the eladrin keep the secrets of this tradition close. It was once practiced among the humans of Bhael Turath, and the dragonborn of Arkhosia. Both races are said to still have secret monasteries where they will teach suitable members of their races this skill. There are also rumors that the hobgoblins of the south have knowledge of this art and have trained some of their warriors in it.

Artificers: Artificers are rare in the vale and the world in general. Dwarves and gnomes are the most common practitioners of this arcane art, and they don’t like to share their secrets. Certainly there are some artificers in Hammerfast, and a few in Grimsburg. It is said that the humans and tieflings of Bhael Turath had skilled artificers for they created the warforged race. However most of their learning in this art was lost long ago when that empire fell.

Religion and Divine Classes: 

Religion: The region has a long polytheistic tradition. However, that tradition was stifled during the rule of the Empire of Nerath, a nation founded by escaped slaves from the Serpent Kingdoms. These former slaves were led to freedom by their great prophet Amra, and they were devout worshippers of the sun god Rao. During this imperial age, Rao’s priests banned the worship of all other gods. As the empire expanded and subjugated northern lands they converted many “savage” human tribes and clans to their faith. These people turned their backs on the spirits and their traditional gods- known as the Aesir. These however, were powerful and aggressive deities, and they did not like loosing their worshipers or seeing the Sun God gain such great power. Odur, the Aesir god of the sun, was particularly angry, and he and Rao did battle. Rao was the stronger of the two gods and defeated Odur. He absorbed the god’s power, and as punishment for daring to attack him Rao was said to have cast Odur down to earth in the form of a mortal. Still, Rao’s actions did nothing but further arouse the wrath of the Aesir. The Aesir still had many followers in the wilder parts of the north. Many were human, but many more were humanoids or giants. They descended upon the empire in all their fury, and after many years of warfare the power of the empire was shattered. In the years that have passed since the empire has fallen, many have returned to worship of the Aesir and Vanir. In the heart of the old empire the faith of Rao is still strong, and the sun god seeks to regain the power and worshippers he has lost. His priests still consider him the one true god and give no recognition to other gods.

The following are Gods that are commonly known of and worshipped in the north. Many other gods exist, but little is known of them in this part of the world:

Non Aesir Gods: The world is a place of many gods. The following are the non Aesir gods that might be venerated in Nerath.

Rao (Alignment: Good, Favored Weapon: mace, Portfolio: Sun, Creation, Summer, Healing, Domains: hope, life, sun, protection) Though Rao has lost much of his power since the fall of Nerath, he still has many followers and his priests seek to win back the followers they have lost by doing good and being kind and generous. Their clergy had become corrupt during the height of the empire, drunk on their own power and wealth. They have expunged as much of that corruption as possible from their church, though it still lingers in the former heart of the empire. The priests of the north generally have a reputation for being good, brave souls who fight against the dark forces that threaten civilization. However, some folk despise them because their faith is one of monotheism and does not allow its worshippers to acknowledge other gods. Despite the monotheistic nature of his religion, he has many saints that are said to be mortals that he elevated to divine status. It is considered acceptable for worshippers of Rao to pray to these saints and use them as intercessors between the mortal and spiritual world. Followers of Rao disapprove of arcane magic and are forbidden from practicing it. During the imperial age its practice was banned by the clergy. Priests of Rao generally wear robes of white, yellow and gold during ceremonies. They shave their heads and paint wear or paint a small gold circle on their foreheads that symbolizes the sun. When traveling they wear dark robes that won’t show the dirt of the road. Though they preach a doctrine of peace, they will fight against forces they believe to be evil. When they do so they will wear armor and usually fight with a bludgeoning weapon.

Saint Amra the prophet (Good) Exarch of Rao. Amra was once a mortal, and it is said that Amra freed those slaves who worshipped Rao from enslavement to the serpent lords and their evil gods. He was granted immortality and divine power by the sun god, and many pay homage to him as an intercessor between them and Rao, for he is thought of as Rao’s most favored servant. However, he is not a true god as of yet.

Bahamut (Alignment: Lawful Good, Favored Weapon: greatsword, Portfolio:, Domains: hope, justice, protection) Bahamut is usually only worshipped by dragonborn, though the dragonborn have inspired a the odd member of another race to pay homage to this ancient deity.

Corellon (Alignment: Good, Favored Weapon: long sword, Portfolio: spring, beauty, art, magic, fey, Domains: arcane, skill, wilderness) Corellon is the patron god of eladrin and fey. He is not often worshipped by men in the north, but he is revered by eladrin, elves and sometimes gnomes.

The Aesir: Is one of the ancient races gods worshipped in the north before the rise of Nerath. They are commonly worshipped among humans and dwarves and sometimes humanoids. Halflings and Elves often pay respects to Frey and Freya. The Aesir tend to be aggressive and warlike deities prone to violence.

Odin (Alignment: Good, Favored weapon: spear, Portfolio: knowledge, magic, creation, war, Domains: arcane, creation, knowledge, war) Odin is the leader of Aesir and a master of magic. It is said that he sometimes travels the world as an old wizard or sage. He is wise and does not anger easily, but when he does anger his wrath is greater than any of the other Aesir. He is the patron god of many wizards in the north.

Thor (Alignment: Unaligned, Favored Weapon: warhammer, Portfolio: Storms, thunder, war, Domains: storm, strength, war) Thor is one of Odin’s sun, and commonly worshipped by human and dwarven warriors of the north. He may be the most commonly prayed to god of all the Aesir, for the north is a violent place and many have need of his strength. He is the patron god of many fighters in north.

Heimdall (Alignment: Lawful Good, Favored Weapon: longsword, Portfolio: watchfulness, sight, hearing, vigilance, Domains: protection, strength, war) Heimdall is a guardian god. He defends the gates to Asgard, and he is always ready to warn of the gods of the coming of Ragnarok. He prayed to by all those asked to stand guard, and he one of the few Aesir gods who is commonly revered by paladins.

Tyr (Alignment: Unaligned, Favored Weapon: longsword, Portfolio: courage, trust, strategy, tactics, writing, Domains: justice, protection, knowledge) Tyr is a war god, but one who believes in sound tactics and cunning strategies over brute strength. He is also a god of courage, and he is prayed to by warriors throughout the north. He is the patron of warlords.

Balder (Alignment: Good, Favored Weapon: greatsword, Portfolio: beauty, music, poetry, rebirth, Domains: skill, love, creation) Balder is one of Odin’s sons. He is prayed to by artisans and performers, and is a patron of bards.

Loki (Alignment: Evil, Favored Weapon: dagger, Portfolio: mischief, trickery, Domains: trickery, torment) Loki is an evil trickster god, and his worship is forbidden in the north.

Njord: (Alignment: Unaligned, Favored Weapon: spear, Portfolio: commerce, sea, wind, Domains: sea, storm, luck) Is a sea god, but also a god of commerce and sea trade. Traders plying the rough waters of the North Sea pray to him for safe and prosperous journeys.

Frey: (Alignment: Good, Favored Weapon: Great sword, Portfolio: Agriculture, Fertility, Domains: life, freedom, love) Frey twin brother of Freya and son of Njord. Men often pray to Frey for sexual prowess before bedding a woman. 

Freya: (Alignment: Good, Favored Weapon: long sword, Portfolio: Fertility, love, vanity, Domains: love, life, trickery) Freya is the twin sister of Frey and son of Njord. Though she is a goddess of love and fertility she is also known to have a streak of mischief in her. Most of her worshippers are female, and she is often prayed to during pregnancy and birth, as well as by new lovers.

Uller: (Alignment: Unaligned, Favored Weapon: long bow, Portfolio: archery, hunting, winter. Domains: Skill, Wilderness, Winter) Uller is the son of Thor and Sif. He is a master archer and huntsman, as well as a skilled warrior. He is the patron of hunter and rangers in the north.

Other Aesir Gods: Sif (daughter of Thor), Forsetti (God of Justice, son of Balder), Frigga (Wife of Odin, Fertility goddess), Hermod (son of Odin, messenger of the gods)

Clerics: Clerics are fairly common in the north. Traveling priests of Rao frequently wander the region in an attempt to revitalize faith in the sun god and recover lost shrines are relics. Priests dedicated to the Aesir and Vanir gods are the most prevalent in the vale, and most of these priests devout themselves to the entire pantheon instead of an individual god, but they usual have one god that they have a particularly special connection with. Races such as, humans, dwarves, and halfings usually pray to the Aesir gods, and races such as, eladrin, gnomes and elves more commonly worship the Vanir gods.

Avengers: During the days of the empire of Nerath there were many orders of Avengers in the service of the clergy of Rao. Many of those orders have vanished since the fall of the empire, and avengers are quite rare in the north. Few avengers serve the Aesir or Vanir.

Paladins: Most paladins are humans devoted to Rao or Dragonborn devoted to Bahamut. Few paladins exist in the service of the Aesir or Vanir gods, and paladins are quite rare in the north. During the days of Nerath there were many orders of paladins in the service of Rao.

Invokers: Invokers are rare in mysterious individuals with diverse origins. They are not common in the north or the known world. Yet virtually all the gods have at some point given certain chosen mortals small shards of their power, thus allowing them to become invokers. Some stories say that the great prophet Amra was imbued directly with Rao’s power and was an invoker of tremendous power. It is also said that when Nerath fell the angry Aesir gave many mortals small portions of their power to use against Nerath and the clergy of Rao.

Primal Classes:

Barbarians: Barbarians are common among the human and shifter clans of the Winterbole forest in the northern reaches of the vale. The goliath clans of the Dawnforge mountains also boast these elite warriors.

Druids: Druids are fairly rare in the vale. Some of the shifter tribes boast druids who have sought to further develop their natural shifting abilities, and there may be the odd druid among the other tribes of the region. Most druids venerate the spirits of the world and have little interest in the gods of the astral sea.

Shamans: Among the tribes of Winterbole and the Goliath clans, shamans are the primary religious leaders and act as the spiritual guides of these people. The elves of the Harken wood also have Shamans among them. Shamans derive their powers from the spirits, but many also have some knowledge of the gods and some also pay respects to the Vanir gods, as they are closely linked to nature.

Wardens: A few individuals in the vale are Wardens. Like the other primal classes, most are either Shifters or humans from the Winterbole forest, Goliaths from the Dawnforge mountains or elves from the Harken wood. They tend to share the religious beliefs of their tribe. Wardens have a greater to tendency to leave their tribes to wander the vale, for they bear the responsibility of defending nature itself, not just their tribe.

Weapons and Equipment: 
After the fall of Nerath the dead empire descended into a dark age that it is arguably just starting to come out of. As a result, dwarves and eladrin forge the best weapons and armor in the north. Leather, Hide, Chain mail, and scale mail are the most common types of armor to be found. Shields are common, and are usually made from willow board. Most melee weapons in the phb can be found, though swords, axes, spears, maces and warhammers are the most common. The rapier has yet to be invented and is not available.

Ranged weapons are also more rare than usual. Elves and occasionally shifters, eladrin or half elves are the only races commonly known to use longbows and actually trained in their use. Dwarves use crossbows regularly, but the humans of the region tend to only be trained to use javelins and/or shortbows.

Currency: 
Gold, Silver and Copper coins minted during the empire of Nerath are the prime currency in the vale. These coins are easily recognized by the sunburst stamp on one side and a image of a saint on the back. The gold piece has the image of Amra the prophet. All coins are said to have been blessed by a priest of Rao when they were minted, and clerics of Rao have been known to use a gold coin as a holy symbol in an emergency. The dwarves of Hammerfast mint their own silver coins, and these are also common in the vale. Dwarven silvers are easily recognized because they are square in shape and have hole punched through the middle. Dwarven merchants string a leather cord through their coins to and tie them around their waists. Occasionally coins from ancient Arkhosia or Bhael Turath can be found, but these are rare. In the days before the empire it is said that the Skanzi jarls of old would wear silver armbands and cut off chunks of silver to give to their followers for their services. This tradition never fully vanished from the north, and it has seen a resurgence in the years since the empire’s fall.

Languages:
Prior to the rise of Nerath, the skanzi people of the vale spoke their own tongue, which was a dialect of the giant tongue mixed with a little bit of dwarven. During the days of the empire, the Nerathni people and in particular the clergy of Rao forced them to learn the Nerathni language (a dialect of common). These days the Nerathni tongue is more commonly spoken, but many folk, particularly those of Skanzi stalk, still speak their traditional language, which is essentially giant.

Brief Timeline (Nerathi Calendar):

0 C.E – Amra leads his followers to freedom across the Sea of Scales into the remains of Arkhosia and thus beginning the rise of humans in the region and the founding of what will be known as the Empire of Nerath.

620 C.E.- Nerath is at the height of its power, and sages believe that this is the year that Roa defeated the Aesir sun god Odur and stripped him of his divine power. The Aesir began their war against Rao and his clergy.

621-682 C.E.- These years were years of a war known as the War of Retribution, and it was during this war that the Aesir sent waves of enemies against the empire, until finally it was a shadow of its former self. Priests of the Aesir claim that around this time Odin declared an end to the war of retribution against Rao. 

668 C.E.- This is the year of the event known in the Nentir Vale as the Bloodspear war. It was a year when a great horde of orcs led by the Bloodspear tribe descended into the vale to plunder and pillage. In truth, this was probably just one of the many ongoing wars that made up the War of Retribution, but the people in the vale don’t tend to look at it this way, for they don’t wish to think their own gods might have sent the horde against them. In any event this war shattered the empire’s hold over the vale, and resulted in the people of the vale returning to more traditional ways that existed before they were part of the empire.

693- present - The end of the War of Retribution marked the beginning of the years of Chaos as inhabitants of the once great empire strive to survive in a much more hostile and dangerous world.

720 C.E.- The present year.


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## PHDungeon (Nov 17, 2009)

This is Bella's second journal, which nicely summarizes the details of our second game session.

Victor,

The hunt goes frustratingly slow and is mostly hindered by my companion’s altruism.  Flagg is now four days ahead of us and is traveling on foot.  I found this strange until I tried to procure some horses to cut his lead; there were none that anyone would sell.

Flagg is making his way northwest and we followed his trail to Winterhaven, he’s been gathering people for some kind of exhibition.  Personally I would have preferred keeping after our quarry, however the people of Winterhaven were in dire need of assistance.  Orc tribes were gathering to overrun their town.  My “friends” decided to stay, and as I cannot continue the hunt alone my decision was made for me.

Seeing as we were going to waste the day here I could not be idle.  The local blacksmith welcomed me into his shop and did not seem the least bit surprised that a woman knew her way around a forge.  It was refreshing.  My other contribution was no less rewarding.  I had some of the men dig a large pit outside the main gate, and I directed them in how to disguise it.  We may never know, but it may have been this simple trap that saved the day in the end.

As we busily prepared for the night, great cheers went up in the afternoon as re-enforcements arrived in the form of Ragnar Thorgallson and six of his skanzi warriors.  On our way here we had a brief stop over at a barbarian homestead watched over by a man named Ragnar.  Derren had a pleasant surprise in seeing that the short sword that Ragnar carried bore his family crest.  Although I only had a brief glimpses of it (the boy covets it more than he does his sister) and it seems to be good work.  The chief of the barbarians told us that he had won it as a prize in a drinking contest between him and the hero Sigard Ironballs.  Darren, the young noble challenged Ragnar for the sword.  The chief did not seem eager to let it go, but could not deny the boy a chance for a piece of his heritage.  In truth I feel that the fact that the man felt more comfortable with the axe he had nearby than the sword at his side that made his decision.  As the young noble was already drunk (the boy cannot handle his drink) they decided to arm wrestle for it.  It was a fierce competition, and although in the beginning I thought Derren would surely lose, he came through and slammed the surprised chief’s hand upon the table.  With that the boy had not only won the sword but also the respect of these barbarians.  So when Winterhaven sent out a call for aid, these warriors came swiftly.  What they lacked in finesse and tactics they made up for in prowess and strength.  There was much excited talk in seeing the Androsax boy and although he is young, it was clear that the noble blood in his veins had a kind of intoxicating effect on them, where the man led, they would follow.

As night descended it became clear how foolhardy this venture was.  I quietly cursed my soft hearted companions for ever getting me into this mess as I watched hundreds of orcs surround the walls.  With the disappearance of the last ray of the sun they made a mad rush to the walls, and I was able to kill many.  Most of the defenders lacked my skill with a bow or did not even possess such weapons, so it was my responsibility to ensure that they could not set off the trap by the front gate pre-maturely.

The plan worked beautifully.  The orcs eventually charged up the road carrying a large ram and under a crude shelter of shields to protect them from our arrows.  We harassed them with several shots making them run recklessly forward and straight into the covered pit.  They became a tangled mess at the front gates.  With only a few exceptions the threat had been neutralized from the outside.

Our group made good work of keeping the orcs from cresting the walls.  I have heard many men speak afterwards of how Bjorn and Derren grasped one of the ladders the orcs were using and pulled it away from them, taking a single soldier up.  After Bjorn let go of the ladder to fight the orc Derren (perhaps making a clumsy fall look like a daring maneuver) fell backwards and tumbled to the ground gaining his footing and quickly dispatching the dumbfounded enemy.

Unfortunately the rest of our troops were not as resourceful.  Several enemy warriors were able to enter the fort and all of them had only one goal in mind; open the gate and allow the mass outside to rush in like a tide of death.  My position compromised, and seeing the enemy closing in on me I leapt down from the wall and quickly wrapped my injured body in a cloak of shadow.  From the darkness I brought death to any who merely thought they could open the gate.

And finally it was over.

From what we’ve been told the orcs have decided that Winterhaven is too much trouble for them and have moved on.  I am hopeful that we will be moving on as well before the trail grows too cold to follow.

Lady Nightshade


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## PHDungeon (Nov 20, 2009)

Darren Androsax's (the fighter) second journal (regarding game session #2)

Dear Corvin,

I have made such progress, brother – you would be so proud! I am writing from a smaller town in the vale – a scrub of spring weed surrounded by marauding orc bands. But before I tell you about our heroism and adventure – let me describe two deeply intriguing family connexions.

I may have mentioned the religious scrolls we found in the orc-infested abandoned monastery. They had woodcuts by the artist Albrecht Dix – one of them depicting a man in a tabard of Rao, sword in hand and battling ogres. None other than a Saint Aurielus Androsax! Could this be our great, great grandfather? I knew that our family took on the Nerathi faith after the war – but I had no idea how deep our reverence for the sun god truly ran. 

A second connexion I am much less conflicted about. We made our way northwest in pursuit of the devil-tainted Flagg, whose feats of strength and savagery grow worse with each tale we hear. On our journey we met a local lord named Ragnar. He had a short-sword at his belt bearing our family crest – the man, full seven feet of Skanzi warrior, had won it in a drinking contest from a local explorer and hero named Sigurd Ironballs – said to hold up in Hammerfast when he isn’t exploring ruins in the vale. With a little of the Androsax courage (three pints of it, by then) I challenged him to a competition for the sword, and he agreed. We locked arms, and I would have lost but for some ill that spread across the lord’s face– but my determination to live up to our great ancestors prevailed – and now the sword is mine! I mean ours!

While pursuing Flagg, we came across frightened refugees, a battle field of Orc corpses (from the Bleeding Skulls tribe, I suspect) and some farmsteads under attack. We fought the flea-bitten savages and were victorious yet again- but were too late to save some stubborn stay-behinds and the Rao priest and templar sent to protect them. Have you heard of the Sun Templars? A southern order of Rao, its men wielding curved, jewelled swords and great, piercing devotion. 

Corvin, do you even wonder if the Androsaxes were meant to be followers of Rao? I wonder sometimes if the light of the sun is calling to me. Of course, Bjorn and Torfinn are living proof that the old gods are worth following. But no matter, we gained access to the village of Winterhaven and helped prepare it for an even greater orc onslaught. At each turn, I made sure Deryl was utterly safe before engaging with our foes.  Our little sister was well-behaved as always, and I think our companions are becoming rather protective of her. Bella had taken her for an afternoon to the local forge, and even Torfinn, who I realize now is above worldly desires, seems to tolerate her hanging company and sighing admirations.

In the night, the orcs came fierce and from many directions – but we fought them back like Trimenous at the Three Gates during the first tide of the Bloodspear War. I think Bella felled three score of them before they even reached the gate. If that woman pursued seduction the way she pursues killing, no men would be left standing in all the Northlands.  Bjorn and I hoisted a ladder full of the grey brutes, and Deryl managed to assist Torfinn as he blasted them with arcs channelled from the thunder god himself.  It was glorious. The dawn broke through the horde and I understood something of our legacy. I was made for this. Though it hurt us greatly to leave Grimsburg, and you in the smoking aftermath ... I did not regret it this day. This day we did good, by laying evil unto the orcish infidel.

Your brother Derren


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## PHDungeon (Nov 21, 2009)

The game session #2 journal of Bjorn Thorskirk (cleric of Thor)

Returning from the vale victorious was very gratifying. Our efforts were rewarded both monetarily and with the offer of a celebratory feast, as well as an invitation to escort the good dwarves home to Hammerfast. Alas our hunt for Flagg takes precedent. I could see the delay had upset Bella as it was. Using Bran's local knowledge and tracking ability, we proceeded to pick up Flagg's already cold trail. Fortunately, the spring waters limited the crossing points of the Nentir river, and we soon found where he had stolen a small boat to cross. It was likely good we had Bran along, as the locals would probably not been as forthcoming with information about our quarry.

We crossed over and picked up the most likely trail. We continued on, following the trade road northwest until it looked like night was soon to fall, and with the increased orc activity, it was deemed best to seek shelter for the night at the steading of a local war chief named Ragnar. This was fortuitous indeed, for there we learned that Flagg had indeed come this way and that he was no longer alone, as he had taken five of Ragnar’s men with him after besting Ragnar in a wrestling match. 

While feasting in Ragnar's hall, Derren noticed a short sword that Ragnar had bearing the Androsax crest, and he prevailed upon Ragnar to wager it in an arm wrestling contest. The contest was very entertaining for the combatants were so closely matched. I am sure Bella's attempt at distraction did not harm the outcome and was enjoyed by many as well. It is good to see her using her “talents” to good effect; there is hope for her yet.

The following morning we set out, again Bella attempted, to no avail, to convince Ragnar to sell some horses in order to speed up out pursuit of Flagg, who we learned was proceeding on foot.

We continued to follow the road to Winterhaven. As we approached the settlement we came across an outlying farm where an obvious orc attack was occuring. We moved into combat, Deryl taking shelter on the other side of a small stream. Bella and Bran made good use of their bows while Darren myself and Torfinn moved into melee combat. The battle was intense and the enemy many but we eventually prevailed. Unfortunately, we were too late to save those the orcs had taken earlier. Among the dead we found a priest and templar of Rao; their courage could not be denied in coming to the aid of these farm folk, though I question their wisdom in coming so under manned- no doubt a result of their oer'weaning pride. Torfinn and I did take their armour as the just spoils of combat. May the chain better serve us than its former owners. Derren took a cloak that, once the embroidery is picked out, should be very servicable. After the conflict, we proceeded into Winterhaven to the cheers of those on the walls who witnessed the combat.

Upon entering Winterhaven, we learned that there was a large band of orcs in the area, and that the village was preparing for an attack any day now. Bella wanted to press on in pursuit of Flagg, who we learned had been in town and recruited a few more for his band. I felt we had to aid these villagers in holding off the orc menace, and only part of this was altruistic. We need bases to work from in the north, and as the followers of Rao had proven in their deaths- to go without proper preparation is fatal. In holding the village we would gain support and thin the numbers of potential opponents at the same time. If the number of orcs in the area was as large as the Village leaders believed, we would not get far in our pursuit of Flagg at the moment. I am sure we will make up the time.

The party, after resting, proceeded to help with the preparations for the coming battle. Bella helped both in the forge and planning a pit trap at the gates, again proving her worth. We also set stakes to make the approaches more difficult, and I went among the people bolstering sprits and letting them know they were not alone. Morale was also greatly improved with the arrival of Ragnar and some of his hearty band of warriors. 

As the sun began to set, we heard the approach of the orc war band and knew that our fates may soon be decided. The battle was soon joined, and I quickly expended my supply of javelins and had little to do until the walls were gained. Bella's little surprise worked very well, allowing the orcs to make it to the gate only to be slaughtered while giving them little opportunity to bring their battering ram to bear. This more than any one thing may have saved the night.

Several orcs managed to make the walls and enter the village, but these were killed, though there will also be several new faces in the halls of Valhalla- warriors who fought valiantly but fell. Bran was also nearly carried away by the valkaries, but we were able to get to him in time. I feel his skills will still be needed. It has been a hard night and rest is needed, may the gods guide us until I next have opportunity to put quill to parchment. 

In service to Thor,

Bjorn Thorskirk


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## PHDungeon (Nov 23, 2009)

Here's a couple of journals from the one character we have not yet heard from, Torfinn- Invoker of Thor.

This one is from the first game session.

Torfinn’s Quiet Reflections (Part One)

*First day of travel*
There is nothing more beautiful than watching the dull grey haze of storm clouds consume the horizon. Today will be a day for Thor it seems. I will travel by sea with my comrade Bjorn, I can’t say I’ve been terribly good company for the brawny priest, but we are still bound by threads of fate. Bjorn found me in the storm and gave me shelter, he asks no questions and expects no answers, for that I shall be eternally grateful. 


*Two days from Fall-crest*
This Halfling vessel is well made, it almost glides across the sea. I suspect we’re ahead of schedule and it wont be too long before we reach Fallcrest. Isn’t that a troubling thought. While I find vale-folk to be “interesting”, It’s still hard for me….to communicate. 

Darren Androsax is the opposite, he has spoken to me often over the last few days and while I don’t respond other than the occasional nod, he can’t seem to stop. The company isn’t terrible and…he is knowledgeable on various subjects, but I see fire in his eyes that will likely consume him and his hopes for reviving his family name. I suppose men like Darren were born to find Valhalla. 

His sister Deryl is…..intriguing. She can’t look me in the eye for long without glancing to her feet, perhaps she dislikes me. Their companion, Bella seems to be a private person, other than exchanging names we haven’t spoken. Bjorn has informed me he intends to tease Bella to liven up the voyage, my comrade can be rather…simple at times.


*Inside the Blue-Moon tavern*
Isn’t it curious how humans behave under the effects of ale? Bjorn forced some upon me when we first met, but I believe it didn’t have the desired effect. In fact, that was the one and only time I sensed a hint of….disappointment from him. Perhaps he was hoping for a drinking partner. 

Still, the company of Deryl has proved to be…stimulating, she somehow managed to fall asleep amidst all the loud banter and drunken songs. I question why Darren has brought such a young woman so far from home, but I suppose everyone has their own circumstances. 

*The morning of the Orc camp ambush*
Sleep didn’t come easy last night, was it a vision? Or a simple nightmare? While the horrific images were vague shadows dancing through my mind’s eye…I was able to make out…a beautiful woman in tears and a hideous silhouette screaming in agony.

These fleeting scenes cause my heart nothing but…pain. It would seem I’m still naïve to have such worthless thoughts. The Orcs should prove fitting targets for me to unleash my frustrations. May all the brave souls lost today find peace wherever they may.

*At camp after successfully defeating the Orcs.*
We lost few and the Orcs lost everything. A fair trade. My new-found allies proved themselves to be powerful, brave and cunning during the skirmish, but for some reason I cannot be part of the excitement evident at camp.

I overheard Darren telling Bjorn of his heroic leap, I saw Bran and his brother happily tallying Orc ears and I even think Bella was smiling at that strange contraption that serves her so well (her clockwork crossbow).

But, there is nothing for me in victory. No pride and no glory…all I feel is empty. It is in this moment more than ever that I truly feel like an outcast.


Here's his journal from the second session.

Torfinn’s Quiet Reflections (Part Two)

*Standing guard at Winterhaven’s south watch-tower.*

I haven’t had much for reflection these past few days, Darren and Bran set a fast pace. We travelled by foot only breaking long enough for a simple meal and rest during the evening. The tedium has been…enjoyable, I found the time spent walking through the scenic wilderness peaceful…and refreshing. Is it selfish of me to feel refreshed while in hot pursuit of a murderer? 

I believe there is more to this ‘Flagg’ than Darren and Bella have revealed. However, it’s none of my business, Flagg has killed innocent folk and that’s enough cause for me.

Flagg’s trail led us to close to Ragnar’s Hall, Bran and Darren thought it best we seek answers from the war chief. Bjorn seemed rather… excited at this prospect. How can I put this politely; Ragnar’s tribe was….interesting. The mixed aroma of animals, men and…feces was a little over-powering for my sensitive nose, sufficed to say I took many trips outside.

Although…I did notice something curious during our stay at Ragnar’s Hall. Vale-men seem almost bewitched by breasts. Bella had every eye on her as soon as we entered the stuffy room, I myself had to take a brief glimpse in a futile attempt to understand the fascination. Perhaps it’s beyond my mental capacity to grasps the simple joys of Vale-folk. 

We continued on the path to Winterhaven until we came upon a besieged settlement not far from our destination. It was plain to see Orcs were about…for a moment I felt…nostalgic. Why is it that scenes of destructions cause such a stir of emotions? My allies suffered no casualties and only a few wounds, the Orcs fared much worse.

Unfortunately we were far too late to save the folk that were left behind.

I found the mood in Winterhaven to be rather sullen…although I got a few pats on the back from various Vale-men. They were preparing to defend their village; men and child scrambled about wearing rusty armour and dulled blades. I had no doubt Bjorn would stay to defend the small-folk.

My day was spent shovelling holes and planting wooden stakes around the front entrance. Bella is a….perfectionist. She asked me rather politely to re-dig the pit for her trap three times over. I didn’t complain, it was a pivotal defence for the front gate. If we lose the gate, we lose the town.

Amazing, Deryl has managed to fall asleep with the Orcs causing such a racket not far up-field. I spotted their brute shadows moving around the outer rim of the sentry pyres. Combat will come upon Winterhaven soon, I hope these stout walls can withstand the trail.


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## PHDungeon (Nov 24, 2009)

Bellas has some latent sorceress talents that she plans to develop. Here's her intro:

Bella sits on her bed in her room eating an apple, waiting for everyone to be ready to leave.  She was not feeling well since waking, nauseous and lightheaded.  Her arms had been tingling from her elbows down.  She was clumsy, falling over herself every time she tried to walk.

Finally able to relax and contemplate, it occurs to her what might be causing it.  She looks at the apple and with a sudden motion tosses it to the wall then, following it with her eyes she gives it a little mental push.  She feels the symptoms flowing out of her body and into the apple. When it strikes the wall it explodes with far greater force then the toss would allow.  She stares at the mess on the wall, knowing what it could mean but scarcely believing it after so long.

She breaks her stillness and purposely searches through her bag digging out a small, tattered notebook covered in dwarven runes.  Although she understands the meaning of the cryptic symbols reading them would only give her a headache.  Try as she might she could not hold the ideas they represented in the confines of her mind.  She remembers her old Dwarven instructor on the arcane arts, “Smokingbeard”, telling her what the problem was.

“Ye see lad, magic writings are magic themselves and cannot be read by just anybody, ye have to have the gift or their meaning is as graspable as smoke.  A local miner may understand the words on the page but without the magic in him he forgets as soon as he looks away.”

“Now ye have a bit of the spark in ye lad, I can see that but perhaps too little now to be able to read the writings.  Perhaps in a few more decades ye will have grown powerful enough, be patient lad, ye ain’t human, you’ll get there soon enough.”

She opens the books with shaking hands and starts to read the familiar page.  As usual she feels its knowledge settling into her mind as it always did.  This time thought, it doesn’t slip away; it stays.  Her heart beating fast and smiling she finishes the book, a sorceress at last.


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## PHDungeon (Nov 25, 2009)

PCs

Darren Androsax- human, male fighter 2
Deryl Androsax- human, female sorcerer 2
Bjorn Thorskirk- human, cleric 2
Torfinn- deva, male invoker
Bella- changeling, female, rogue 2


Here’s my quick summary of the first half of game session #3. Hopefully the upcoming player journals will fill in the details.

The party left the village of Winterhaven in pursuit of Flagg. It was the 1st of April when they set out, and they made their way southwest along the trade road. They had learned from a local Innkeeper named Bern that Flagg had stayed at the Inn in Winterhaven while trying to recruit locals for his expedition. Bern had overheard Flagg mention that they would be heading to a site in the Ogrefist hills. This was the clue the heroes needed and they promptly set out like eager hunting hounds.

After a day and a half of travel, they eventually came to a river, and the river’s source appeared to be somewhere in the Ogrefist hills. Here they found a roadside shrine dedicated to the Skanzi gods. The shrine was a 15’ high rune stone and sitting on it, as though waiting for them, was a solitary raven. Bjorn saw this as a good omen. The raven flew off heading upriver towards the hills. The heroes decided to follow.

The river itself was a curious thing, for it had a terrible stink about it and was contaminated with some sort of oily black toxin.

By nightfall they were approaching the hills. The raven led them to the ruins of a long abandoned settlement. It was little more than foundations, and had probably once been a primitive little village. In the center of the village stood another large standing stone. In some ways it resembled the roadside shrine, but there was something evil about this monolith. A single rune was inscribed near the top- an eye wreathed in flames. Both Bjorn and Darren recalled having seen mention of the symbol, but could say little about it other than it was referred to as the “Elder Elemental Eye”, and that it is a symbol venerated by an ancient cult that is thought to have vanished centuries ago. In front of the stone were two dead ogre corpses. Bjorn and Darren moved up to investigate them while the rest of the heroes stayed back. They could tell that the ogres had been killed by sword and axe wounds. One had also had his throat torn off and the other had burn wounds on its arm. They suspected Flagg and his men were responible. Suddenly the dead ogres stirred. One of them suddenly grabbed out at Darren’s leg, but he managed to agilely hop away. The hulking beasts rose up, as terrible undead and attacked. A nasty little fight took place with Darren and Bjorn being hammered with several deadly slam attacks. The rest of the heroes hung back and fired at the undead from a distance with spell and bow. In the end the undead were finally destroyed, but both Darren and Bjorn were pretty battered from the fight.

With the undead destroyed, they completed their search of the ruins. They discovered the remains of a recent campfire, which helped confirm that Flagg had been in the area. They tried to sleep in the village that night, but this proved impossible. The evil of the monolith haunted their dreams turning them to terrible nightmares. They were forced to make camp elsewhere, but even then their sleep was troubled. They had not yet entered the hills, but they were close enough to hear the distant sounds of cavorting ogre clans, and those sounds were horrific in their own right.

The next morning the raven was waiting for them on a nearby rock, and it led them into the desolate hills. They kept themselves alert for ogres; luckily the beasts hated the daylight and did not trouble them. Eventually, they came upon a crude stone hut. It was built on the top of a barren rocky hill. It appeared to be sized for man sized folk, which caught their interest. The base of the hill was surrounded by thorny briar, but they found a gateway through the briar and a trail leading up the hill to the hut.

The adventurers trudged up the hill. The tail led them around its backside and there they found another hut, this one was much larger and sized for a creature of ogre size or larger. They could hear pained moans coming from the larger hut, which piqued Deryl’s curiosity. Darren decided to hail the smaller hut at the top of the hill, and he caught the attention of someone in the building. A figure peaked its head out. It was an ugly bastard, clearly not a man, but about the size of a very large one. A conversation ensued and the heroes managed to deduce that Flagg had paid a visit and caused some trouble, but whoever the nasty people were that lived there wanted nothing to do with any strangers. The party decided to be on their way when they realized that Deryl was missing.

The girl had snuck off into the larger hut. There she discovered a wailing two-headed giant- an ettin. It was immediately clear why the ettin was in such torment. One of its heads was dead. It had been scorched by fire and the damage looked recent. Its surviving head suddenly noticed Deryl and screamed at her to get out of its home. She began to slowly back away, but not quick enough; it lurched forward with staggering speed and grabbed hold of her in a massive hand. It then tossed her as though she weighed nothing. She went flying out of the hut and nearly rolled down the steep hillside. Darren rushed to her aid and tossed her on her horse. The heroes started to retreat, as the giant lurched to the entrance of the hut and began to scream at them. It probably would have been content to let them run, had it not been for Darren. He stupidly shouted out, “Two heads are better than one.” This provoked the beast, and it charged after the foolish fighter, slamming the young man in the back and sending him sprawling across the ground. The heroes fled firing a few arrows and spells at it as they fled. They caused it enough pain to make it decide that they weren’t worth pursuing, and they escaped with their lives.


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## PHDungeon (Nov 25, 2009)

This is Bella's journal for Session #3

Session 3 – A Poor Foundation Leads to a Fallen House

Victor,

These Androsax children are going to get me killed.

We continue on the trail of Flagg who has left a path of destruction. We reached a small settlement, and by settlement I mean a couple of huts on the top of barren tor in the ogrefist hills. It was surrounded by ghoulish trophies of skulls and a fence that had bones built into it. In retrospect this was probably meant to keep people away, but it was important to gather information and make certain that we were still on the trail of our quarry, so we ignored them.

Screams of pain echoed from one of the houses and low guttural voices could be heard arguing from the other. After I had found a position that gave me line of sight to both entryways Derren started calling out.

The ‘man’ that greeted us was hideous, but did not prove to be hostile. He answered our questions but asked us to leave. We offered medical assistance to the wounded, for he claimed his mother was dying from wounds that had presumably been inflicted by Flagg and his band, but he would not take it, repeating his request that we leave them alone. Derren continued to interrogate him but with each question he was getting more agitated. I started whispering fiercely that it was time to go.

It was then that I noticed that Deryl was gone.

Scanning the area quickly I saw her horse outside of the larger hut where the pained screams were coming from. Suddenly they stopped. What followed was a cry of rage and the scream of a little girl. Deryl’s limp body was tossed out of the house, bouncing across the ground and stopping just short of the steep hillside. The girl was still, but I could see from my vantage point that she was still breathing. Knowing my business I held my position and kept ToD (touch of death) pointed at both entrances to the huts. I had to be ready in case either of these freaks wanted to try anything.

Derren rushed over and scooped up his sister just as a giant with two heads crested the doorway and stopped. I could see that one of his two heads was dead and that he was enraged, but he came no further. I waited for my best shot, but the beast at the doorway, screaming for us to leave him in his misery. Derren placed his wounded sister upon her horse and sent the mare running. I was surprised that Bjorn did not run to help the girl, but my job is in killing not in healing so I do not question his judgment.

It was obvious that the giant monstrosity would be content to see us go. Finally it seemed that Derren had gotten the point. We could have walked out of there right then and no harm would have come to us. We even started to.

Then Derren opened his mouth.

“Two heads are better than one.”

In my shock I confess that I missed my shot when the now enraged giant lumbered out of the doorway to crush the foolish noble. We ran and thankfully we escaped with our lives, only the Androsax siblings sustaining any injuries. Bjorn, the cleric called them lessons. Let us hope that they begin to learn before one of these lessons does more than bruise them.

Belladonna


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## PHDungeon (Nov 27, 2009)

Darren Androsax's 3rd journal

Dear Corvin,

We are in over our heads. Somehow, inexplicably, after fighting Orcs, travelling across the vale and seeing wonders great and small – Deryl and I are bringing shame to the Androsax name.  After our victory against the orc raiders, we travelled with Bella, Bjorn and Torfinn deeper west, past plains and hills until we met a merchant from the far off town of Westmore.
He seemed sullen and circumspect on account of some powers behind the throne. Powers, as it will no doubt dawn on you, of shadow, of ancient lineage and deep rivals to the Androsaxes – none other than House Tremaine! It took all of my resolve to stay with our friends and pursue that devil’s pawn Flagg, but brother, I assure you, my proud sword and I will one day rattle through the streets of Westmore.

After heading south, an omen of the old gods met us on the road – a raven. Bjorn found this to be a special symbol of the gods, circling as it did in the direction we presumed Flagg had taken. The waters of the land grew more corrupt as we entered the Ogrefist Hills. And let me tell you Corvin, they do not name places for fancy in the Vale. There were Ogres- corpses, foul spawn of Ogres and men, and even a hulking variety sporting two heads. And that, I’m afraid is where our trouble began.
We had dispatched a pair of animate corpses, done in by Flagg and his retinue, and brought to cursed sentience by the hulking, disturbing stellae of the flaming eye. Could you research this, by the way? I suspect it was a cult of orcdom, given the crude manufacture. 

Beyond this, the hills growing ever more watchful, and ever following that ‘lucky’ bird – we came across a homestead surrounded by thorns and adorned with skulls. It seemed pleasant enough. I called out, and my friends seemed annoyed. I figured the skulls were mostly of Orcs, you know? As we approached closer – great wails and moans could be heard from an oversized hut. You remember how kind Deryl was whenever one of our servants was injured? Well, bless her fiery and unpredictable heart, she dashed into the hut to see what was the matter. Bella, ever the diplomat, trained her crossbow on our potential hosts, further up the hill. Remind me to leave Bella out of future negotiations, by the way. 

Deryl came out – well, more flew out – of the hut and just as I was able to set her on Fairfax, out came a slobbering, wailing giant of a creature, one head in agony, the second lolling in a stage of horrid decomposition. Taking pity on the creature, I said what I thought was sympathetic ... “Well, at least two-heads are better than one.” Clearly, the smarter noggin had died, because the remaining one got quite enraged. We had to retreat – a personal first. And now the others won’t stop lecturing us. 
I told Deryl not to let it bother her. We just have to be TWICE as brave the next time.

We approach an old temple with the same flaming eye pillars. Flagg is close. Wish us well – vengeance for poor old Crumm is at hand.


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## PHDungeon (Nov 28, 2009)

This is the final half of my GM account of session #3.

That night they were forced to make camp in the hills themselves. There was no fire made that night, and they did their best to stay well hidden, as the last thing they wanted was to be set upon by a clan of inbred ogres. The gods and the fates were kind to them that night, and though they could sense that the beasts were skulking about, the creatures did not find their concealed campsite.

The following morning the raven was again waiting for them. Once again it led them up river. By mid day they had reached the river’s head waters. Its source was a boggy valley. The valley was a stinking mire of mud, rock and pools of tainted water all feeding into the stream. On the far side of the valley was a rocky outcropping that stuck out into the bog. Crouched on top of it sat the remains of what appeared to be a primitive temple. The evil in the valley was nearly palpable, and it seemed clear that it was the source of the taint that had infected the entire region. The poisoned river itself ran right up to the base of the stone outcrop and disappeared into a dark tunnel.

The companions opted to hike around the valley to the temple. They approached with caution. There were several ruined outbuildings and one larger primary building. More stone monoliths stood watch over the ruin. These were each carved with the same fire wreathed eye that they had seen etched on the monolith in the ruined village two days earlier, and much like that ruin, this temple seemed very, very old and crudely constructed. Yet, these ruins were not entirely deserted.

Nearly a dozen skeletal guardians lurked in the ruins, and as soon as the heroes entered the skeletons converged on them. Luckily for the heroes, the ancient skeletons were armed with spears and swords, and they had to close some distance to get to the party. This gave Bran and Bella a chance to hammer them with arrows, while Deryl and Torfinn hit them with spells. Several of the skeletons were damaged or destroyed before they got near the heroes, including one that had been wreathed in flame and looked to be the most dangerous one of all. Enough survived this bombardment that they managed to close on the heroes, and Darren and Bjorn stepped up and brought the fight to them. Bjorn shattered their old bones with his mighty warhammer, while Darren darted among them, cutting them down with his short swords. The men took a number of wounds, but soon the undead were defeated, leaving the companions free to explore the ruin.

The site was so ancient that there was little left to scavenge. However, they did find a secret door beneath the altar stone with a tight spiral staircase leading down. Bran also made it clear that he could find no signs that Flagg had come this way. Bjorn suspected that perhaps Flagg had followed the river into the tunnel below the temple and that the stairs might provide an alternate route down to wherever he had gone. The rest of the heroes agreed that this made sense, and they decided to venture down the stairs.

A terrible stench was wafting up from below along with strange moaning sounds that reminded them of wounded animals. The stair spiraled down for a great distance until finally they opened into a small room with hallways branching off of it. The chambers they had discovered down here were also clearly very old, and there was no light to help them see, so they were forced to pull out sun rods. They made their way out into the hall and looking to their right they could see that the hall led down to another room. There, in the room, were several goblins hunched around a flat stone altar. Splayed out on the altar was the body of a dead skanzi warrior. It was a scene of horror, his stomach had been sliced open and his innards hauled out to drape the altar. Furthermore, the goblins could barely be recognized as goblins. They had clearly undergone some sort of horrible mutation. They had huge oozing tumors and sores, and the hands of some had reshaped into nasty claws. Most were completely naked and had no weapons other than their clawed hands. Some of these goblins could barely walk, and it was clear that they lived in perpetually agony. A few larger ones had nasty clubs, and there was one among them who wore dirty robes and was adorned with fetishes. The creatures immediately took note of the heroes and turned hostile. 

Battle ensued. As usual, Darren and Bjorn moved up into battle, while Deryl, Bella, Torfinn, and Bran hung back and attacked from a distance. Bella focused her marksmanship on the shaman and quickly dispatched it before it could cause any trouble with its hexes and spells. Bjorn and Darren fought well and the battle was swaying in the heroes favor until Bella was ambushed from behind. Another pair of goblins had snuck up on her. These strange mutants had the ability to crawl along the ceiling, and were very stealthy. They jumped down, out of the shadows and tore into her back with deadly claws. Bjorn was too far away to give her healing, and Deryl had to come to her aid with her magic, while Bran targeted them with his bow. The creatures were in close and the girl channeled her spells through her dagger, and used the weapon to blast them with frost and chaos energy. Bella back peddled away and hammered them with crossbow bolts, and soon they were bloodied enough that they scampered back into the darkness. Meanwhile, Bjorn, Darren and Torfinn had finished the rest of the goblins, and it seemed that the fight was over. 

They set about exploring the area and found the remains of several more goblins that had all met violent deaths- another sign that Flagg had passed this way. There were a few more of the mutants about, but these ones offered little resistance and the heroes ended their misery quickly.

Near the altar they made an interesting discovery. Above the altar stone, carved into the wall was another symbol of the elemental eye. However, this one was a little different. The actual eye was a huge piece of amber about the size and shape of a goblin’s head, and it was lodged in the wall. It looked quite valuable, so the heroes pried it free. As they were inspecting it, they noticed something strange. Trapped inside the amber, was a thing that looked vaguely like a massive tadpole, but much more alien.  None of them knew exactly what it was. However, they decided that they would take it, possibly for further study.

They also discovered a large room with a pool of vile, oily black liquid. A stream of the stuff led down a tunnel, which emerged into the outside world. This pool was likely the source of the contamination that had poisoned the river, and they felt that they should do something about it, though they could not decide what.

Finally, they found another flight of stairs that led to even deeper catacombs, and it is their plan to being exploring these chambers in the next session.


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## PHDungeon (Dec 1, 2009)

On Sunday we ran the 4th session of our campaign. It proved quite revealing.

PCs

Bella- changeling, rogue 2 
Darren Androsax- human, male, fighter 2 
Derly Androsax- human, female, wild magic sorcerer 2 
Bjorn Thorskirk- human, male, cleric of Thor 2 
Torfinn- deva, male, invoker 2

This is Bella's forth journal.

Starke,

We have finally tracked Flagg to his destination- an ancient temple. Unfortunately, he had already moved on days ago. It was covered with the symbol of the fiery, Elemental Eye that we had been seeing in our travels.

Exploring the ruins we found hordes of undead but nothing we couldn’t handle. There was a pool of toxic, black ichors that was draining into the local water supply. Diluted it had caused a burning sensation to skin; we never found out what the concentrated solution did; although some wanted to. There was no way for us to block the seepage so we had no choice but to leave it.

There was not much to the primitive temple structure. Beyond the pool there were catacombs and beyond that was a large, circular, domed room featuring a large well. The exterior of well was peppered with holes, all of them empty.

Deep down the well’s shaft there was an…entity. It was in the shape of a roiling black cloud that emanated malicious intent, and we could sense that it was divine in origin. Beyond that, it was a mystery and not one that we were going to be able to solve. After a thorough search we left, discouraged that Flagg’s trail had gone cold.

After spending the night far from the temple we found that we had another difficulty, or rather I had a problem. While fighting in the temple, I had allowed some of our enemies to close in on me. One of them had caught my back with its claws and now I could feel the wound burning like fire. I felt weak and dizzy, and if not for the … eager … administrations of Bjorn’s healing, I believe I would have died before getting help. I suppose I could forgive his less than chaste healing hands.

We decided to head back to Fallcrest. Unfortunately, on our way back, we came across a pair of poorly armed villagers who were seeking out a person who had attacked their kin in their village and kidnapped a local girl. The girl was in fact the grand daughter of the older of the two. Their description sounded similar to Flagg’s method of attack. We decided to risk investigating it since Bjorn seemed to be able to keep my disease at bay, and I was well enough to press on.

We followed their trail to a ruined manor. Outside were the dead bodies of some of some men who had set out from the small village to hunt down the killer. We began carefully exploring the inside of the stone manor house, but we hadn’t gotten far before we were attacked by a trio of frightening creatures. Each wore a golden skull with the fire eye etched in the skull’s forehead. They were covered in sores and possessed incredible strength and agility. One of them matched the description of the girl that had been kidnapped from the village.

My eyes couldn’t focus. My arrows kept missing their marks. I watched as Darren dropped one of our enemies. A black smoke rose from his mouth upon his death as the body dropped to the ground. His body deflated, the flesh almost liquefying as the smoke dissipated. These people were already dead.

Torfinn attacked the girl from the village stunning her with his divine magic. I saw my opportunity and took my shot in spite of Darren calling out for me to stop. Apparently he believed that he could still save the girl. Could he not see how dangerous these monsters were? They were stronger than normal and mad, besides they were already dead. Better to kill them than to attempt to interrogate them. How did he expect to even contain them? Although he may now despise me for it, I stand by my decision. It was simply too great of a risk to keep any of these monsters alive.

After neutralizing these possessed horrors, at least one of whom we believe had been part of Flagg’s group, we found several golden skulls in a large bag in the corner. We suspect that they had gotten them from the alcoves in the well.

We carried the bag of skulls back to Fallcrest. Bjorn took the precaution of burying the bag in the ground at each resting point. This proved to be a life saver, for each time we slept the skulls would call out for us to put them on; had they not been under the earth their siren song would have been irresistible.

I know what you’re thinking Victor, but I was not able to get my hands on any of the skulls, the rest of my companions never let them out of their sight and were eager to destroy them. Considering their nature it would be dangerous and foolish to try and send you one. There is no courier I would risk telling what he carried to, and anyone I didn’t tell would certainly become possessed. We have gotten a new bearing on Flagg, and rather than leaving my companions to personally carry back one of these artifacts to you, I am continuing on his trail. If you wish you can send a courier to Fallcrest, and the next time we return I can place one of these skulls into his hands for you to study. That is the most that I can promise.

Belladonna


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## PHDungeon (Dec 2, 2009)

Dear Corvin,

Outrage! I am still fuming wildly at Bella’s cold calculations. How different we are! But let me not jump ahead. This land grows more strange and more dangerous by the week. We reached a ruined temple under the foul watch of the elemental eye – a crude symbol wreathed in flames. The temple was built by some long ago people – orcs are my best guess – and appeared recently disturbed by Flagg and his men. As we approached, emaciated, skeletal creatures defended the altar. Bjorn and I struck forth, Torfinn protected Deryl – and Bella to her credit dropped a foul, flaming bone pile before it could hurl its foulness in our faces.

We discovered a passage down to the tunnels below – where a sickly straggle of goblins lay scratching at each other in their misery. Bella caught some of the foul taint and Bran had enough by the time we reached their altar – a gore splattered remnant of one of Flagg’s men. We cut our way through a crypt and then made our way to a well. My friends are too cautious – but sometimes they are right. When I looked over the well, I saw something that could see through me. A black, smoking thought, a divine shade of oblivion. I confess that only the image of the sun burning bright could preserve me. Bjorn forgive me – for Thor certainly won’t. 

The ruins held a block of amber encasing a fist-sized tadpole above the sacrificial altar. It was easily the most bizarre object of worship I had encountered. The goblins of Grimsburg have much better taste, I can assure you. But if that were the only artefact of evil we’d be lugging halfway across the Vale, we’d be lucky.  Flagg had departed, and as we would learn later – had taken some tainted relics from three-score niches carved along the well. Brother – do send word of the flaming eye – and send it soon!

We tracked Flagg back duskwards, out of the haunted hills. A village had been attacked by demonic men the night before, and it sounded enough like Flagg that we pursued. Would you believe it – we came across a Roaringhorn Manor! It was ruined but made me hope that the Androsax Manor would be as easy to identify. Their stupid crest was right above the door. Still, the Roaringhorns are all right. Remember Griselda and Greyatrix? Those girls knew how to blow a horn. 

But anyway, it turned out that one of Flagg’s men from Fallcrest had become corrupted by a golden skull – wearing it like a necklace! If he wasn’t stark raving mad and homicidal, he would have looked like some fashionless fop from Grimsburg. He tackled me from the shadows and was soon was joined by two villagers, similarly possessed. Now here’s where I get mad myself. Bella is the best markswoman I have ever seen. She can cut a stream of piss from a Skanzi warrior round the corner, deflecting her bolt from his discarded tankard. Seen her do it at Ragnar’s! But just when I was ready to subdue the girl, yank the necklace off her and get Bjorn to press his healing hammer upon her – thunck, Bella cracks a bolt in the poor thing’s temple. The girl was Deryl’s age, just as fair and beautiful – only more innocent. I understand Bella’s reasons. They were probably beyond saving. But not to try? Does she hate little girls? Does she hate her own lost innocence? Or is this the poison of the temple, infecting her judgment?

 I have been watching Bella since then. And every now and then, when she is asleep I catch a flicker: her skin turns pale. Her hair whitens. One night, I think I even saw a dwarf sleeping in her pallet. On the other hand, we have all been affected by the elemental eye. Torfinn still won’t tell me what happened to his hand. Deryl, Bella and Torfinn – they are all changing, somehow. The evil of this place is getting into their skin. The only ones unaffected seem Bjorn and I. Probably because we drink so much.
We have returned to Fallcrest – and I will write again soon. Bjorn and Torfinn were able to call upon Thor’s valkyrie to point us towards Flagg – and we may be returning to Grimsburg sooner than you think. But the angel of death was also able to point due north when I asked where the Androsax Manor was!

Your devoted brother,

Derren


***

The Roaringhorn Drinking Song:
“Hey, ho, whats’up! Blow that horn and down your cup!
Drink, up! Drink up! Lift it high and eat your sup!
Roaringhorn, Roaringhorn, don’t call me out, I’m not yet done!
Roaringhorn, Roaringhorn,  there still a barrel and an hour of fun! “

***

Fragments from a Hagiography of Rao 
... and thus did Saint Aurielus smite the troll, speaking thusly: “Foul troll – though shalt taste the sun for eternity, for I will place you on a spit and let it burn you where the sun doth not normally shine ...”


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## PHDungeon (Dec 5, 2009)

The party has determined that Flagg has headed south out of the Nentir Vale towards the city of Grimsburg, and they  will be heading there after him. The following is a brief history of the city:

The site where Grimsburg stands has been a Skanzi settlement for centuries. However it was about the year 420, during the height of the Empire of Nerath that it began the transformation from a skanzi town to a cosmopolitan city. Colonists from Nerath were moving into the region in large numbers. Many were looking for land and opportunity, but many others were fleeing persecution. The Nerathi and Skanzi populations intermingled in Grimsburg, and though at first there was much tension and hostility between the two ethnic groups that hostility gradually faded. The Nerathi built stone manors and a large temple to Rao. They created a university and even built a series of man made islands at the mouth of Nentir river, which became the city’s main harbor and entertainment district. Over the next two hundred years the city more or less flourished

Though Rao’s faith had a strong presence in the city, the Nerathi who had come to Grimsburg were mainly dissidents of the empire. Many of them did not agree with some of the Empire’s policies and they were looking for a place where they could live that would be less stifling. Idealists would say that this resulted in a very cosmopolitan city- a place were new ideas and beliefs were valued and discussed openly without fear of persecution. Some of the brightest minds in the empire moved to Grimsburg, and many of those minds were practitioners of the arcane arts. Cynics would say that for every liberal free thinker to arrive in Grimsburg arrived at least five immoral opportunists who were either fleeing the law of the empire or just looking for a place to engage in their illicit activities unimpeded. By the time year 621 arrived (The beginning of the War of Retribution), Grimsburg had become a haven not only for mages, but also for criminals of all sort. The entertainment district was festering with brothels and gambling halls. Crime was rampant and the city government was thoroughly corrupt.

Grimsburg was hit early in the War of Retribution. The skanzi people rose in vast numbers to move against the Empire. In the Nentir vale they drove the Nerathi lords from their manors, and they either slaughtered them or forced them to join the skanzi horde. In Grimsburg the same thing occurred. Blood ran in the streets as the skanzi rose up against the Nerathi. Priests of Rao received the harshest treatment and were killed in particularly violent ways. For weeks Grimsburg was a place of complete anarchy and chaos. Eventually, the skanzi emerged triumphant and a semblance of order was restored to the beleaguered city. A vast shipyard was constructed, and Grimsburg’s population tripled almost overnight, as skanzi warriors from all over the north poured through its gates eager to join in Odin’s holy war. Grimsburg became the seat of massive skanzi army. 

The population boom did not last long, for soon the skanzi long ships were sailing south en mass towards Nerathi mainland. For several decades they pillaged and raided the Nerathi people. In the year 668 the Bloodspear war began. With so many good skanzi warriors away from home, the communities of the vale were left vulnerable, and most of them were razed to the ground by the fearsome orcs. Eventually the men of the vale with the aid of the dwarves of Hammerfast and the elves of the Harkenwood pushed repelled the orc horde from the vale, but it left the Nentir Vale a shattered fragment of what it once was. The horde never made it as far south as Grimsburg, but the effects of the war were still felt, for many of the cities best warriors had ended up traveling north to fight the orcs, and had died. The city had become weak, and it had lost its bravest and finest, leaving it to the city’s criminals and scum.

Finally, in 682 Odin decided that Rao and his mortal followers had been punished enough and the War of Retribution ended. By this time the skanzi people were weary of the bloodshed, and though they had grown rich from the treasure they had looted from the empire, the wealth had come at a cost. Nerath had been strong and had put up great resistance. Many skanzi warriors had been lost in Bloodspear war and the War of Retribution , and the skanzi people needed time to replace their fallen warriors. By this time Grimsburg had fallen far from its glory days. It was a mere shadow of its former self. Its best and brightest were gone, and it was the cowardly and corrupt that still remained.

In the past one hundred years, Grimsburg has begun to rebound from the toll taken by the War of Retribution. Nerathi merchants have started trading in Grimsburg once again, and the city remains a haven for spellcasters. The city continues to be the greatest city in the North, and every year new immigrants from the fallen Empire of Nerath arrive seeking their fortunes. The church of Rao has reestablished itself and an uneasy truce exists between the priests of the sungod and the battle clerics of the Aesir. Crime and corruption remain a huge problem in the city, and nowhere is this more evident than in the Styes. The Styes is a district of decaying man made islands that was once the pride of the city. It is now a virtually autonomous district with its own city council. It is a continual reminder that Grimsburg still has a long way to go to regain its lost glory.


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## PHDungeon (Dec 7, 2009)

This journal's a little late in coming, but it is Bjorn's journal from game session #3. I'm expecting a couple of more from him in the near future. Today we finished session #5. Thus, far I've had no PC fatalities, but I have to admit that I haven't been working too hard at it. There were 7 deaths in the last adventure of our Second Darkness campaign, so i figured they needed a break, and some time to grow sufficiently attached to their new characters before said characters meet horrifying ends. Flagg will put up a good fight, so maybe a casualty or two won't be too far down the road...

Bjorn's Journal 3

Well journal it has been a while since I have had the opportunity to put quill to parchment, but now that we have returned to Fallcrest I will avail myself the pleasure. 

After holding off the Orc's in Winterhaven we once again set off in pursuit of Flagg. Heading south and then east. We were fortunate enough to come across a roadside shrine to the Skanzi gods, specifically the All Father Odin, where we also encountered one of his messengers a raven who we divined wanted us to follow. It is good to know the Gods support us in our venture, even as they expect us to look out for ourselves. This was made evident when we were lead to a long abandoned village of crude design with a centre monolith with a crude flaming eye carved into it. The monolith gave us an uneasy feeling but we dismissed it as there were also the bodies of two Ogres. The bodies appeared to be reasonably recent and gave us hope that we were indeed on Flagg's trail.  However on approaching the corpses for a closer examination they reanimated and proceeded to attack. After a hard fought battle we prevailed and proceeded to settle in for the night. It was not a peaceful rest however as we were plagued by night terrors and Torrfin underwent a horrifying transformation of his arm into a lizard like appendage that returned to normal as we left the area of the monolith.  All of our companions proved their worth in the battle even young Deryl, though I still have concerns, which were borne out later in our travels.

We continued on the following day coming to a tor with a small dwelling on the top. The base of the tor was fenced with the gate adorned with the skulls of various humanoids, several unidentifiable. We continued up the path around the tor and came to what was a larger building built into the tor and unseen from the other side. From the larger building came a a wrenching sobbing and as we approached we saw also the small building atop the  tor was larger than it first appeared. Several ogres stepped out of the building, they appeared the worse for wear as if in recent battle and warned us off. We offered assistance seeking knowledge of Flagg. We learned that indeed it appeared that it was Flagg's group that had passed through here. And we were about four days behind them. They refused our help and demanded we leave which we were proceeding to do.  However the youngest Androsax took it upon herself to investigate the sobbing, even after being warned away, and the next thing we know her body comes flying out of the building followed by a large Etin. The etin had one deceased head, which was surely the cause of it's grief, and beyond our skill to help. It was enraged by the presence of more of the creatures who had caused its trouble. Deryl, while hurt, was not grieviously so and was helped to the back of our pack animal by her brother who in an attempt to smooth matters made things worse. I begin to see why the Androsax family fell so far.  We managed to make our escape with no further conflict but it was close and given the importance that Bella is stressing the pursuit of Flagg be given an unnecessary skirmish should be avoided lest it put us at disadvantage down the road.

We continued on until we came to a marsh filled vale leading to what was an obvious ruin on the other side. I used one of the scrolls obtained earlier which greatly reduced our travel time around the vale striding from one tree to another in the distance. Once across the the vale we entered what appeared to be an abandoned temple with the flaming eye symbol we encountered earlier carved throughout. No sooner had we entered the temple were we set upon by several skeletal undead. We fought well together and overcame them with minimal injury to ourselves. On investigating we found a stairway under the altar leading down, into the catacombs below.

Using the light of a couple of sunrods we headed down the stairs , noting the rough hewn walls. On reaching the bottom we continued on into the halls and we set upon by deformed goblinoid creatures.  After a hard fought battle we prevailed once again, though not unscathed. We found the corpse of a skanzi warrior, likely one of the warriors recruited from Ragnar. The corpse appeared to have been sacrificed to some strange deity above the altar was a large piece of amber with a strange and unholy creature trapped inside. Off this room was a drop into another chamber from which appeared to be the souce of a corrosive fluid tainting the local water ways. There were also several more corpses of the deformed goblioids we earlier ran into. We took advantage of the brief rest to marshal our resources before continuing. And as I see my candle has almost burned down I must stop for the evening to continue recording my tale in the morning.


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## PHDungeon (Dec 9, 2009)

This is Bella's account of game session #5. As usual, it is in the form of a letter to her patron, Victor Starke.

Victor,

Due to the power of the skulls Flagg has managed to stay one-step ahead of us the entire chase and unfortunately seems to be heading for Grimmsburg. From what I can deduce from witnessing the victims of these artifacts they are powered by an ancient and dark divinity and any who bear the golden skull become possessed by a sinister spirit and are reduced to a savage animal of great agility and strength. Until recently I would have thought that any who wear the skull are already dead but in our last melee with them, one of their band still retained the power of speech, something we had not seen before except in Flagg himself. Unfortunately I was forced to land a bolt inside her head so further questioning was impossible; a fact that Androsax will not let me soon forget.

I am starting to suspect that Flagg may be amassing an army to take you on Victor, he obviously could not do so alone. The good news is that I have convinced my other companions to bring the next set of skulls we find to you. They seem to lose their potency once worn so we are now seeking a fresh bag out of the many that Flagg took from the well.

We will meet soon, but our trip goes slowly, it seems Flagg is determined to slow us down at every turn. From Fallcrest we had been able to procure transportation down the river, and I believed that we would make good time and finally close the lead that our quarry had frustratingly retained over us. Unfortunately, it was not to be for our trip back down the river was not as smooth as our first. A stinking island of refuge blocked our boat and from the garbage frogmen attacked us. Luckily, I was able to push their shaman off solid ground into the water with some well place shots and soon after they fled.

It was not long after this that we reached Brynnstead, and found that Flagg’s men were besieging the town. Not wanting to miss an opportunity at acquiring another skull we stayed to defend the town. Most able-bodied men had been killed in previous attacks; our defenses were sparse. We convinced the local church, a Church of Rao to shelter the populace while we positioned ourselves for the inevitable attack. Derren, either foolishly or bravely, volunteered to remain out in the open as bait disguised as a vagrant while I positioned myself on a roof and the rest took cover in a nearby house.

Soon Flagg’s men were upon us and as expected they went directly for Derren. From my perch on the roof I was able to grievously wound many of them from relative safety but was forced to retreat when re-enforcements closed in on my position. After dispatching the first wave of attackers we made our way into the church where several of the enemy had breached its walls.

Derren joined the battle crying out the name of his ancestor, which he has told us at length is a Saint of Rao. He also seems to be fighting better than usual, his gods seem to be with him…but which gods I wonder?

Early into the second half of the battle I was beset by the Androsax curse. A beast man smashed through one of the windows of the church and landed beside Derryl. The terrified girl ran straight to me. Knowing the brute would follow her I had no choice but to reposition myself and hope I could take him down with a few precise shots. My adrenaline pumping my aim proved true but it was unfortunately not enough to take down the monster and he leapt at me. Fortunately the pews we were standing in made him clumsy and he did not catch me with the full force of his clawed hands or I would have been much more gravely injured.

He stood in front of me, enraged, and my eyes darted in every direction looking for an escape. Unfortunately the battle had moved in my direction and other enemies had cut me off. Desperately I flipped over the pews, the creature’s claws barely missing me and I quickly took refuge in the shadows once more.

The fight was over soon after that and we were victorious. We plan on investigating where these possessed men and women were staying in the hopes of acquiring active skulls. After that, I will be coming home to Grimmsburg.

See you soon,

Bella


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## PHDungeon (Dec 9, 2009)

his is Darren's most recently journal.

Dear Corvin,

We are heading to Grimsburg soon – please prepare mother and father for Deryl’s return. She has been quiet and circumspect, of late. I see now what a fool I was for bringing her to the Vale. There is too much death and darkness for one so small. What a fool I was.

We sailed south with a good Nerathi man and his two sons, but were ambushed by cruel, festering frogmen on the river. We fought them off, but one of merchant's boys was killed. After a brief stay in Moonstair, we reached Brynstead, and there we were beset by a pack of Flagg’s corrupted men. We ambushed them – my friends fought bravely. But none of this matters now, for I am dead to them. What a fool I was ... until I stepped into the light.

With Deryl’s magic giving me a strange gift of flight, I burst into the Temple of Rao. Flagg’s men were devouring villagers – Nerathi and Skanzi alike. Priests of both religions were fighting them back. Bjorn and I crashed into the foul fiends with fire and thunder. Bolts of light coursed through Torfinn and Bella danced deadly through the aisles loosing bolt upon bolt into. It was night, but the whole temple grew brighter with each victory. Through the clangs of steel and gurgles of death, singing grew louder in my ears. Southern canticles fed my spirit. Wounds became painless, and I leapt through the rabble to tear a fiend to pieces. The brightness was unbearable. I could no longer make out Bjorn’s battle-prayers. Torfinn’s features started to shift – a reptilian sneer crossed his face. The chanting was calling out to me from ages past – and in the stained glass, I caught the sad and pious eyes of our great-grandfather, St. Aurielus.

Corvin, the light has blinded me, and now I can see for the first time. We slew them to the last, their bodies proving too far gone for saving. I wept bitterly on the altar, blood covering my face. I have made such good and noble friends in these bitter last few weeks – but I carry a new faith in my heart. Do they know? What will I tell them? When the chanting stopped, and the light faded from my head, my eyes caught the open book on the altar. Some strange compulsion brought me forth to read it.

It was opened to the story of Saint Amra in his days as a smith: “... and so did Amra take up the Hammer of the North and cast it in the fire, purifying its goodness in the flames. And thus did the hammer shine so brightly, it appeared as a sun, and yeah did the heathen become the faithful on the road to the Shining South.”

Corvin, I am not pious or peaceful as well you know ... but I am thinking of getting a tattoo of a hammer surrounded by a halo of flame. Maybe, y’know, start my own holy fighting order. Maidens swoon over prophets with swords.

Your brother,

Derren


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## PHDungeon (Dec 10, 2009)

GM notes from Session #5

The heroes headed south towards Grimsburg on the trail of the elusive Randall Flagg, having determined he was heading in that direction via the Hand of Fate ritual. They have realized now that he and his men are likely in possession of around 60 or so golden skulls from the temple of the Elder Eye they discovered in the Ogrefist hills. All the skulls seem charged with the essence of some sort of malevolent divine being and those that come into possession of them are taken over and transform into supernaturally tough homicidal killers. What exactly Flagg’s plans are remains a little unclear, but they are clear that he leaves a trail of death wherever he goes, and they feel it is their responsibility to stop him.

They joined up with a merchant known as Alsferth and his two boys as well as two of his hirelings. Alsferth had a Knarr (a Viking merchant ship), and they sailed south down the Nentir river towards Grimmsburg. While passing through the Witchlight fens they were beset on by bullywugs in the night. The bullywugs had a shaman (mud lord) who used a special ritual to summon a massive floating sheet of muck, which the ship got caught up in. Bjorn spotted the mud while on watch that night, but two of the bullywugs were holding the rudder of the ship, and the helmsman couldn’t turn the ship in time to avoid the muck before the ship became trapped. The bullywugs were able to take advantage of their marsh walk ability to hop up on the muck and then leap from the muck into the ship. This proved effective and made for an interesting fight. Luckily for the heroes, Bella targeted the mudlord early on, and once he was badly wounded he fled, which broke the morale of the remaining bullywugs, allowing the heroes to win what otherwise might have been a pretty tough fight.

The party continued to follow the river and passed through a couple of other settlements including Moonstair (from P1). In Moonstair they learned that this town had also had several killings, as all the inhabitants of an outlying farm had been slaughtered. The folk in Moonstair figured that trolls were responsible, but the heroes were pretty sure it was Flagg and company. 

Finally the river came to Diamond Lake, with the actual town of the same name being on the far shore (see Dungeon’s Age of Worms for Diamond Lake details). They landed in a town called Brynsted, and they found that the town was in panic. Flagg had passed through and slaughtered nearly all of the ruling Gunderson clan was well as the local skanzi priests, who had for the past hundred years been operating out of a former temple of Rao. Two clerics of Rao had reclaimed the temple immediately after the deaths of the skanzi priests, and they were only allowing those of Rao’s faith to take shelter in the temple, even though it had sturdy stone walls and was one of the more defensible buildings in the city. This was particularly true since Gunderson Hall had been burned to the ground by Flagg. For the past several days prior to the party’s arrival, a group of Flagg’s possessed had been entering the town at night and committing multiple murders. With the town’s leaders killed and murders being committed on a nightly basis, the place was rightly panicked. Many had already fled the town for Grimsburg or Diamond Lake. Those who stayed were gathering to spend their nights in the Inn or temple for safety.

The heroes, particularly Bjorn, were not pleased to hear that the clerics of Rao were only offering shelter to those of that faith, and they went to the temple and confronted the priests. When they arrived the priests were just about to disenchant the warhammer of the dead skanzi priest, but Bjorn managed to stop them by trading a magic holy symbol of Rao they had found on a dead priest near Winterhaven for the warhammer. They also successfully convinced the priests to allow all the villagers to take refuge in the church regardless of religion.

That night all the surviving villagers gathered in the temple. The heroes used Darren as bait. He posed as a drunk under a tree near the temple and lured several of the possessed to him. The heroes ambushed their foes and managed to kill five of them, but there were more about and the rest were busy attacking the temple. The heroes had to rush to the nearby temple, and there they helped the townsfolk fight off the remaining possessed. It proved to be a fairly tough fight, but there were no fatalities for the PCs, and Flagg’s minions were defeated. Flagg was not among them and it is presumed that he had already moved onto Grimsburg. 

The heroes are now hoping to acquire a sample of a “live” skull, as they don’t currently have one, and they decided it would be a good idea to give one to Starke to analyze when they get to Grimsburg. They suspect that the possessed may have lairing in an abandon keep near the town. The keep once belonged to the Bryne family, which was a Nerathi family that the town is named for. However during the War of Retribution the Gunderson clan slaughtered the Brynes and took the town. For one year the Gundersons resided in Bryne keep, but they were driven out on the anniversary of the massacre when the Ghost of Lord Bryne killed all the Gundersons in the keep (I’ll post the tale next). Thus, the surviving Gundersons built their own hall in the town, and the keep has been abandoned since then.

In the upcoming session the heroes plan to search the keep for any golden skulls that may have been stashed there by the possessed. From Brynsted they plan to head to Grimsburg where they hope to find and defeat Flagg. Based on what I’ve got planned, the next couple of sessions should prove to be quite climactic and harrowing. At the end of this  past session they leveled up to 3rd.


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## PHDungeon (Dec 10, 2009)

The Skalds tell the following Story about Bryne Keep.

It is well known that the skanzi are a warlike people and that they are sometimes prone to bloodlust and battle fervor. It is said that Gunder Swenson, who became the founder of what is now known as the Gunderson clan was a particularly violent man, and the night he led the attack on Bryne keep was a night of bloodshed and slaughter.

It was yule in the year 623, and it had been one year since Jarl Gunder and his clan had defeated the Brynes and established themselves in Bryne Keep. They were feasting and drinking, as wealthy skanzi lords are wont to do on cold winter nights, particularly at yule, when it all began.

Gunder Swenson’s third son, Olaf had retired upstairs to his chambers early for the night to be with his young new wife Bridda. The rest of the clan remained in the hall, content in their revelry. They were suddenly startled by a wailing shriek from one of the chambers above. Bridda came rushing down the stairs, naked and pale. So terrified was she that all she could muster was, “Olaf is dead.”

As soon as she spoke these words, the fire and all the candles in the hall went out. All was dark, darker than the deepest night. The room grew cold. A single pair of heavy boot steps could be heard coming down the stairs. They were slow and purposefully, and with every step they got closer and closer. All stood still, for they were all blind in the darkness. They waited and they prayed.

Whoosh

A cold blue fire erupted in the hearth, bathing the room in its chilling light. Standing at the entrance to the hall was the ghost of Lord Bryne. In one had he carried a blood soaked sword, and in the other he carried the head of Olaf Gunderson. He tossed the head into the air, and it rolled across the dining room table. The revelers were so terrified that they could not even scream.

Little is known about exactly what happened next. It is said that furniture, dishware and food all began to whirl through the air battering the fear struck revelers. And Lord Bryne was in their midst, slashing with his blade, carving down man, woman and child; until only one remained.

Had all of Jarl Gunder’s clan been present that night, Lord Bryne, would likely have had his revenge, and perhaps then his spirit would have rested peacefully. But the norns had decided otherwise.

Gunder’s eldest and second eldest sons had been absent from the feast, for they were serving as warriors to King Bori Sturgleson in Grimsburg. And so it was that Lord Bryne’s vengeance against Jarl Gunder’s family was thwarted. Yet, there was one survivor, the one who is the source of so much of this tale. That survivor was Olaf’s wife Bridda. 

No one is certain exactly why she was allowed to leave when all others were killed, and this is not something she ever spoke of. What is known is that she eventually made her way to Grimsburg, and there she became the lover of Gunder’s eldest son- Steapa. 

The tale concludes later that same winter when Steapa awoke in the night to find Bridda hovering over him with a knife, ready to slit his throat. Tears were streaming down her face, and she hesitated. Steapa threw her off him, and for the second time that winter she ran off naked into the night- this time never to be seen again. Or so it would seem…  

It is said that from time to time, on cold winter nights, on the streets near what is now Strugleson Castle, a tearful naked maiden has been seen running through the darkness only to vanish without a trace.


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## PHDungeon (Dec 15, 2009)

Unfortunately, the real life monster made a surprise ambush against our game session that was scheduled for last Sunday. It rolled a natural 20 and the game session was killed by the massive crit damage. However, we should be back in business this coming Sunday.


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## PHDungeon (Dec 26, 2009)

Game Session #6 (Part #1, Brynsted Keep- refer to the story of the keep above for details on the horrors the heroes will confront)

Cast

Bella and TOD (touch of death- her crossbow), level 3 changeling rogue.
Darren Androsax, level 3 human fighter
Deryl Androsax, level 3 human sorcerer (player absent from this session)
Bjorn Thorskirk, level 3 human cleric of Thor
Torfinn, level 3 deva invoker

The heroes have been making their way down the Nentir river towards the coastal town of Grimsburg in pursuit of Flagg. Flagg has left a trail of murder and death in his wake. Using his collection of mystical golden skulls, taken from the temple of the Elemental Eye in the Ogrefist hills, he has created a small army of possessed homicidal minions. It seems that the bulk of his band have decided to make Grimsburg their killing ground and the heroes are hoping to get there in time to find a way to stop them.

In the town of Brynsted, they found a band of the possessed terrorizing the folk of the town. Having dealt with that band of killers they decided that it would be prudent to seek out their lair and see if there were any unused golden skulls that could be salvaged and hopefully take back to Starke for study.

The heroes decided to make their way to Bryn keep, believing the possessed might have laired there. Darren insisted that his sister Deryl remain behind with the merchant Alsferth, and she complied. Thus it was Darren, Bella, Bjorn and Torfinn that set out for the keep. It was crouched on a hill not far from town. They had heard stories of the place, terrible stories, and they were cautious as they entered the bailey. Signs that the keep was haunted arose immediately, for a great white mist had crept up out the ground and blocked their exit. This did not dissuade them, and they first searched the ruined stables, but found no sign of a lair. Next they climbed to the top of one of the watchtowers where they had a commanding view of the countryside. They also realized that the mist rose nearly to the tops of the battlements and surrounded the entire castle. It seemed they were trapped.

They decided to explore the keep. They entered from one of the watchtowers and began searching the upper level first. This portion of the keep consisted of the bed chambers and solars for the castle’s residents. One thing they noticed right away was the temperature. It had been unnaturally cold outside the keep, but inside it was as cold as the skanzi winter. The first room they explored must have belonged to Olaf Gunderson, for on the fur blankets of the bed was the body of naked young man; the head was missing from the body. The body had not decayed even though it had been decades since the ghost of lord Bryne had been said to have slaughtered the Gundersons. The heroes suspected that the unnatural cold had preserved the corpse. A trunk containing the dead man’s possessions sat at the foot of his bed, and a shivering Darren moved forward to investigate. He had just begun rummaging through the trunk, when his sunrod cracked and went dead. The room went dark.

Bella had been standing guard at the doorway with TOD when everything went black. She cursed under her breath. She hated not being able to see. Then she heard them- heavy booted foot steps walking slowing down the hallway, getting closer and closer. She could see not see her foe through the darkness, but her imagination ran wild. A cold blue fire burst to life in the bedchamber’s brazier. It’s light spilled out into the hall, and standing before Bella, illuminated in the blue light, was the Ghost of Lord Bryne. In his hand was a bloody sword. The ghost looked quite solid and tangible, but he stepped through the wall with no difficulty, and he was then in the Olaf’s chambers with the rest of the heroes. In a chilling voice he gave them a dire ultimatum.

“My killers slaughtered my entire family and household in the name of your heathen skanzi gods. They are responsible for my curse and my pain. Now you dare to trespass in my home bearing your pagan symbols.”

“I offer you one chance to save yourselves.”

“Swear on your souls that you will slay the last scion of the Gunderson clan, so that I may finally find peace. Do this and you may leave this place without further harm. Do it not and you will all die here by my hand.”

“What say you?”

By this point, Bella had become quite convinced that they had made a mistake. Flagg’s possessed had not laired in the keep, and coming here had been an unnecessary risk. All she wanted now was to be on her way, and if cutting a deal with the ghost would allow her to escape with her life than she was all for it. 

Unfortunately for her, the rest of the heroes were not so eager to sacrifice their honor, particularly Bjorn and Darren. As was becoming a pattern, Darren made a couple of comments that proved offensive to the ghost, and Lord Bryne attacked. He instantly proved to be a deadly fighter. His blade easily passed through armor and drained the very life force of his foes. None of the heroes were interested in trying to fight an undead foe that had nearly killed an entire skanzi clan.

Bella and Bjorn both called for a retreat, and they made their way towards the tower. Torfinn and Bjorn used their divine powers to burn the ghost with holy radiance and force it back out of the room, but they knew the tactic would only delay it for a moment. They took advantage of the opportunity and fled up the tower and onto the ramparts.

They reached the top of the next tower, and rigged up a grappling hook and rope. Their goal was to climb down and take their chances with the mists. Bella began to climb down into the strange mist.

Then Lord Bryne was back.  He rose up through the floor of the tower and laughed as he noted they were trying to escape.

“You cannot escape this place, only death awaits you in the mists. Stand here with honor and fight. Let it be my blade that kills you.”

Torfinn, had a terrible feeling that the words he spoke were no bluff. He called for Bella to climb back up the rope, but it was too late. She had already entered the mist. Suddenly she screamed, and it sounded as though she had lost her grip on the rope. There was a dull thud as she hit the ground far below.

In anger Torfinn lashed out, hurling Thor’s lightning at the ghost. Darren and Bjorn called out their own battle cries and rushed the fiend. It was difficult to tell how much effect their weapons were having on the creature, for it was not a thing of flesh and blood. Still, their attacks seemed to be causing some discomfort, and that reassured them that perhaps it could be at least temporarily destroyed. They could think of few other options. It was too late to resume negotiations, and escape into the mist seemed impossible. Yet, battling the ghost in melee was a horrific endeavor. It was fast and skilled with its ghostly sword. If it had not been for Bjorn’s healing magic, they surely would have had their life forces drained completely.

Meanwhile, in the mists, Bella found her mind assaulted by psychic horror. It was as though the ghosts of all the Bryne clan that had been slain by the Gunderson’s were lurking in the fog, and they were all screaming in her head, transferring their agony to her. This had caused her to let go of the rope. Fortunately, Bella was like a cat, and even though she fell, she managed to catch onto the rope at the last second and land on her feet, taking little damage from what might have been a deadly fall.

She raced through the mist, hoping to escape. The ghosts still screamed in her head, making it feel like it might burst. She hoped that she might find her way out. Then she heard Torfinn calling her name. His voice seemed distant, but it was calling her back, telling her that there was no escape and that she must find the rope. Bella followed his voice, and still the ghosts in the mist ate at her mind and soul. The terror nearly overwhelmed her. Her heart was beating faster than it ever had before, and she felt as though she might fall dead on the spot. Her legs were shaking, and she could barely stand. She felt cold, so cold. But she was a survivor, and she was determined to live. She followed the sound of Torfinn’s voice. She could see nothing. Then her hand made contact with the solid stone of the watchtower. She felt her way along, and the gods were with her. Suddenly she felt the rope. She knew she was nearly dead. She reached into her belt pouch and removed a single magical potion of healing. She drank it down, and it probably saved her life. It wasn’t near enough to fully restore her, but it at least it gave her the strength to attempt to climb the rope.

Up on the tower top, Darren and Bjorn continued to do battle with Lord Bryne, while Torfinn supported them by conjuring a holy wall of light for them to stand within. They were not faring well. Lord Bryne seemed virtually unstoppable, and he had inflicted terrible wounds on the two warriors. However, Torffin’s wall of light gave them strength, and as long as they stood in it, they received its vigor. Furthermore, they had caused pain to the ghost as well. Yet victory still seemed far from their grasp.

Torfinn then realized that Bella had made it to the rope. He could see the rope being pulled taught, and he knew that she was trying to climb. But the fog had taken its toll, and she wasn’t making any progress. He knew that if he didn’t help her, she would die down in the mist. He also knew that if he didn’t keep hurling his magic at the ghost, his other friends would likely fall soon as well. However, Bella seemed to be in more imminent danger. He reached down and grabbed the rope, and mustering all his strength, he began to pull her up. Somewhere in the back of his mind he cursed his mortal weakness. Vague memories of divinity haunted him. What had he done to be cast out of Vahalla? What had he done to be forced to wear this mortal shell? Whatever it was, he could not remember. However, the passion of the gods was still strong within him, and he used that passion to give him strength. He pulled with all his might, and Bella did her best to climb. Suddenly, her head emerged from the mist. She was looking pale and weak, but she managed to climb up over the battlement and raise her crossbow.

By this time, Bjorn and Darren were in dire need of help. Lord Bryne had nearly finished them. It was only Torfinn’s sustained wall of holy light, and the constant flow of vigor that it was providing, that had enabled them to remain standing. Torfinn and Bella rushed to their aid. Bella raised her crossbow and fired, placing a deadly bolt in the ghost’s head while Torfinn again blasted him with lightning. Darren and Bjorn had caused the ghost their fair share of injuries, and now with all four of the heroes focused on the horror, it found itself hard pressed. The ghost would never consider fleeing, and it was determined to take at least one hero with it. However, this proved not to be. Though it came very close, the heroes prevailed and the ghost was dissipated. 

With Lord Bryne gone, the mist retreated into the earth, and the temperature returned to normal. The heroes found themselves free to tend to their wounds and explore the remainder of the keep. In the great hall they found the slaughtered remains of the Gunderson clan, along with Olaf’s head sitting on the hall’s great trestle table. Among the dead was the corpse of Lord Gunder. They liberated the body of its silver armbands, sword and ring of keys. The keys proved to be a boon, as they gave the heroes access to the keep’s treasury, and their they found the wealth of the Gunderson clan, which consisted of valuable gems and jewelry along with gold and silver. It was the most valuable treasure horde they had ever discovered.

The heroes plundered the keep and they took carefully moved the loot to Alsferth’s ship, for there was still a Gunderson in the town with a small retinue of warriors, and it seemed likely that he would try to claim the horde for himself if he discovered the heroes were in possession of it. They managed to keep their wealth hidden, and soon they had set sail.

Their attempts to find the lair of the possessed had failed at the keep, but they still suspected one might be nearby. Torfinn cast a Hand of Fate ritual, and from the spell they learned that the lair was actually south of Brynsted. Thus, they traveled down along the coast of Diamond Lake by ship, keeping a look out for any signs. It wasn’t long before they spotted the remains of some abandoned farmsteds nestled by the shore of the lake. They docked the ship and began their search. This time luck was with them, and inside the ruins of one of the buildings they found a large sack that held four of the golden skulls. All the skulls were “active”. They brought them back to the ship, and tied the sack to a sturdy rope. They tied the other end of the rope to the ship and cast the sack overboard. They did not trust it on board with them, so it would drag along behind them submerged beneath the water.

They prayed to the gods that soon they would be in Grimsburg.


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## PHDungeon (Dec 30, 2009)

A journal from Darren Androsax regarding game session #6 and the party's escapades in Grimsburg.

Dear Corvin,

Grimsburg, at last! I am writing you on the eve of a great battle – who knows if I will ever put quill to parchment again. It was good seeing you, and mother and father, too. Please keep Deryl safe here while my friends and I confront the odious and possessed Flagg. 

There are a few things I wanted you to know for our work in the Vale. It is a place of great dangers and even greater opportunities. Destiny calls us there, and if I should fall, ever I hope to have made the road more hospitable to you and our descendants, older brother. Why this talk of doom and gloom? Has my soul been infused with a holier purpose than wine, women and song? Perhaps. But it may also be a basic fear. To defeat Flagg, our irksome benefactor Starke has suggested we confront him in his new inventions – clockwork suits of armour that belch gouts of alchemical fire. It is hard at times to tell genius from madness.
And Starke is both – I am afraid. He displayed his wife like a sculpture and artefact – her nude flesh was beautiful, but marred by the strange arm he had grafted to her. It left me longing for simpler times, and magics connected to the gods and primal spirits. There is some deep foulness behind his easy manner – but we still owe him gold by the thousands – actually 2,250 pieces to be exact. And he is the lesser of two evils, for now.  

I was able to tell you of our adventures in Bryne Keep, but let me update you on the rest. Starke had revealed a casual interest in the skulls, and was given one by a mysterious stranger – some old man with an obscure message for our friend Torfinn, something about his exile on earth and being a herald of Ragnarok. Nonsense, or so I thought. Torfinn is a dreamy lad, full of good intentions. The skull was given over to Starke’s arcanist Flagg, who presumably became possessed and followed his demon heart to the temple with the elemental eye upon it. There he liberated the remaining skulls and distributed them gleefully to followers and victims on the road. As I said, we face him tomorrow.

Other research proved more beguiling. I made my way to the great Library of Skaldsholme to research the symbol of the eye wreathed in flames. Good old Betelbriar the archivist lead me to an inner sanctum. You know how much time I spent in the library, pleading for access to the more forbidden records. Well, there i was, in marbled domes amongst red velour and noble book-cases. It had that intoxicating smell of parchment and glue, wood polish and incense. And then, in deep robes and all the grandeur of the Sturglesons, my eyes lay upon her ... chief librarian Brianna. I nearly gave up the life of adventuring then and there. She seemed excited, too. Perhaps it was the symbol of the eye, or the way she drew out the thick, bony scroll case, slowly, wrapping her delicate hands around the shaft before procuring its forbidden contents. We examined its milk white pages greedily, quickly, with the hushed urgency of badly behaved children. 

Two texts appeared in our hands– the first is a poem about the end of the world, the second a description of how to create the skulls. Sacrifices, exposure to the stars, and the whole damned malign purpose of them: to release the great beast of end times upon the world with each death of the skull-bearer.  Once a skull has possessed a person, and that person is slaughtered, the dark cloud of evil is awakened, freed and released by an ever increasing degree. How then to ensure that the last few skulls remain unused? Will Starke prove the stronger than his henchman Flagg?

I had a dream the other night of Starke holding a great golden apple, riddled with black worms, plunging it into my chest. When I looked down, my torso had been replaced with a clock. Then Bjorn came and threw a hammer atop me. The last thing I remember is the hammer catching fire.

Let us hope, brother, that I am no more gifted with prophecy than you are gifted with smooth-talking the maidens.

Your Brother,

Derren


From the Codex Hereticum of Rao
... thus did the precepts of Rao uncover the Malletus Infernum, a sect of sun-god worshippers who blended ideas of justice and wrath from one of the northern smith-gods. The thirty members were easy to discover as they had used the inks of the Shallam-razar to decorate their bodies with sun and hammer motifs. Twenty-one members repented and seven zealots were burned at the dais of the god. Two escaped in the year 548 CE, but the cult is presumed lost to time.


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## PHDungeon (Jan 2, 2010)

This is an entry from Bella. It doesn't really relate to any events that actually took place in the game session, but it still serves to develop her character.

Session 6 - Cullen

It was only upon crossing the doors threshold that I realized how much I missed my room/workshop at Starke’s Mansion.  My fingers graced the familiar tools upon my workbench and I couldn’t help but think how good it would be to craft a new weapon.  Having acquired some wealth with the Androsax children I will ask Starke to send one of his artificers to magically endow ToD with the chill of the grave, I would be most interested in watching the ritual having just recently gained the gift of understanding magic.

It came as a shock when I passed the mirror and saw Cullen hovering in the reflection just over my shoulder.  As you remember Cullen was an imaginary friend of mine that sometimes still visits me in my dreams.  He takes the form of a small impish creature with wings made entirely of crystal.  I even made a replica of him that I carry with me always.  My hand flew to it now, only to find it missing.

“I am sorry my Lady, sweet Lady, do not be angry with me”, the homunculus implored, “Your powers grow, so I will soon be able to join you in this world to help you”

“Cullen?”, I responded in a shocked whisper, “but you have only come to me in my dreams before”

“Yes this is true, oh my lady I do not have long so I beg of you to listen to your most humble servant. I am your familiar, until now you have not had the ability to bring me into the world but the time for that is coming soon.”

“You are real? ”

 “Yes and no, sweet Lady.  You will soon have the ability to craft me from the arcane energies that grow inside of you.  I will be able to scout for you, gathering information for you about dangerous places.  Though I will be real, I am not a living being and cannot be killed.”

“I will be able to create you?  How will I know how to do that?”

“When the time comes my lady, it will come naturally.  I very much look forward to being in your service.  Oh my Lady I am sorry but our time is short but I will see you again soon.”

With that the ghostly image faded.

I stood in front of the mirror is shock for quite some time before coming to my senses.  I almost believed I imagined it and yet I knew it had happened.  Reaching into Cullen’s resting place I found the miniature statuette had returned.  Looking at it closely it was obvious that it was not in the same position as when I had originally carved it.  This is something that I was already used to as having looked at it after having dreams of Cullen I would find that the statues, although stationary when observed seems to shift positions when no one is looking.

So, Cullen would be able to assist me in the real world soon.  I could see immediately how that could be useful.  The only problem being that I would have to tell my companions about my limited abilities as a sorceress.  I loathe giving up any of my secrets to anyone, but having a familiar may be worth the risk.  I will think on it tonight, perhaps Cullen will be able to advise me in my dreams.

It is going to be an interesting day.


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## PHDungeon (Jan 3, 2010)

In Grimsburg:

The heroes arrived in Grimsburg in early afternoon on the 20th of April 720 CE. They parted ways with the merchant Alsferth and headed for Androsax manor. There they found that a few of Starke’s debt collectors/thugs were chatting with Lord and Lady Androsax. Poor lady Androsax was about to turn over some jewelry that had been passed through her family for generations when Darren arrived on the scene. He turned over a large portion of the treasure he’d acquired from Bryne Keep and that was enough to keep the debt collectors happy and send them on their way back to Starke. The heroes dropped off their supplies and treasure, and they left Deryl to stay with her family, even though tensions between them were tight. They also discovered that Flagg had come to Grimsburg and that there had been many killings in the farmhouses outside he city walls during the past few nights. As of the previous night, dead bodies had been found within the city walls. The citizens of Grimsburg were quickly moving towards outright panic and hysteria, for the body count was rising by the day.

From Androsax manor, they made their way across Grimsburg to the district known as the Styes. This part of town was a vast slum that sprawled out over several islands that sat at the mouth of Nentir river. It had once been a beautiful and affluent part of town, but over the years that had changed. It had gone into decline and was now home to the city’s most disreputable folk. This was where Starke made his home. Starke’s compound consumed one of the little islands utterly. It was many things. First and foremost is was a fortress of stone and iron. Secondly, it was a virtual factory, for its bowels were filled with workshops belonging to Starke. Here his artificer apprentices toiled away helping him with his various projects. Finally, the place was his home, and up above the workshops and fortifications sat a beautiful villa with a lavish piazza. Security to Starke’s compound was tight; several guards were stationed at the gear operated, iron lift bridge that led to the place’s only visible entrance. The guards were well trained  and equipped and accompanied by clockwork hounds. Fortunately, Bella was on favorable terms with Starke, and he’d been expecting her. The heroes were allowed entry, and they were taken up to the villa where they awaited Starke in a beautifully appointed sitting room.

An hour later they met with Starke. He was a handsome, well dressed man with a plumed hat. The meeting with Starke went well. He was in good spirits and pleased that Bella had managed to recover a few of the skulls. He indicated that he had a role in the affair, for he had been given the original golden skull by a mysterious stranger. He then turned the skull over to Flagg to study, and Flagg had been possessed by the item. Starke agreed to help the heroes. He sent out a small flock of clockwork birds to watch the city from the skies, and he informed the PCs that with the help of his constructs he would locate Flagg’s lair. He asked that they return the next morning, promising to offer the location of Flagg’s lair and to help ready them for their confrontation with the man.

After their visit with Starke, the heroes paid a visit to the library at Skaldsholme. There they found a interesting scroll that detailed how the skulls were created and a prophecy that was associated with them. From their research they were able to deduce that the skulls were created by the Cult of Elemental Eye and that victims of the murders committed by the possessed all served to help give a being known as the Slumberer the strength to fully awaken and enter into the world. The scrolls suggested that even the gods fear this entity, and that it may have the power to obliterate he world and the gods themselves. Clearly preventing this from happening was a task of monumental importance.

That night they slept in Androsax manor and guarded the family from the threat of the possessed. Bella was the exception. She returned to her workshop in Starke’s compound, and realized just how much she had missed it. Luckily for heroes, the night passed uneventfully. Unfortunately for the people of Grimsburg, the possessed haunted Grimsburg’s street and slaughtered close to 200 hundred civilians.

The next morning the heroes returned to Starke’s compound. As promised, Starke’s clockwork birds had managed to locate Flagg’s lair. Furthermore, he escorted them to one of his workshops, and there he showed them one of his private projects. He had forged several suites of clockwork plate armor, and he was willing to allow them to use the technology as a weapon to aid them in their final confrontation with this most deadly foe. The armor had proved highly effective during testing, but this would be the first time it would be used in the field, and it would be their duty to report how effective it proved to be…


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## PHDungeon (Jan 7, 2010)

A letter from Darren Androsax regarding game session #7

Dear Corvin,

Flagg is dead. It was a brutal fight at the edge of the Styes, deep within a Church of Rao – but after nearly escaping us, I found his his body atop the stairs. His throat was slashed by a dagger, the wound covered with a sprig of mistletoe and his mouth bore a coin of Loki. I searched for his killer, but in vain – whatever it was could disappear from the sight of a dozen guards.

While it is a victory, and while Surtur Sturgleson himself thanked us with a banquet (at last!), there are so many unanswered questions. His daughter Brianna wishes to send an expedition into the Vale to investigate the Temple of the Elemental Eye further. She so enlightens my spirit, I believe Bella has become jealous. She even called Brianna a tart and tried to impress me with a belt of potions. It is beautifully crafted, I’ll admit – and I would die fighting alongside the Lady Nightshade – but seriously, she needs a man.

Only I think the man she loves is no longer a man. He is more a heart of gears and mind-forged manacles. When I dared suggest that his inventions were witchcraft, his flesh stripped away to reveal his true body – a hideous construct of arcane cogs and eldritch cranks. She almost admits that Starke is evil, and that his eyes are everywhere – but can he read this? I think not! Thanks for teaching me the trick of sending messages in secret, brother. So between us, as we have long planned, I will continue to act the fool and work for the man. The time will come when the Androsaxes will be powerful enough again to claim what is ours. I will not lick his boots – others seem all too willing to lap the grime of evil.

And the Church of Rao continues to draw me into their embrace. I can feel it, though am unwilling to part with the gods of the North – they too have a place under the sun. Have you found out anything about the Malletus Infernum yet?

That leaves me to another brief farewell. Our next adventure takes us to an auction in Alastar. Sounds easy enough. But then again ... wish us luck.

Your brother,

Derren


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## PHDungeon (Jan 8, 2010)

Game Session #7 part #1, GM notes:

In this past session the PCs finally confronted Flagg in what was their most deadly combat to date.

Starke advised them to pay a visit to Sturgleson castle so that they might get the aid of the town guard, for it seemed likely that there would be at least 30 possessed in the lair. Even with their elemental powered, clockwork armor they would be overwhelmed and slaughtered by the horde. They would need help, and Starke was not willing to contribute his own forces to the fight. Darren tried to guilt Starke into loaning his men, but his pleas fell on deaf ears and only served to wear on Starke’s patience. They were soon sent on their way. Bella tried to warn Darren that he was pushing his limits with her boss. In fact, she was surprised that Starke put up with as much  from him as he did. Normally, Starke didn’t stand for even a hint of insolence. She pondered why his tolerance for the young man was so high, but came up with no answer.

They made their way through the city towards the castle. The place was degenerating into chaos. Flagg’s possessed had murdered scores of citizens the night before, and bodies were still being hauled out of gutters and alleyways. Hundreds of panicked folk crowded the streets, grieving and seeking answers. They thronged around the churches, and priests of the both Rao and the Skanzi Gods did what they could to ease their anguish. 

On their way to Sturgleson castle, they visited the Skaldsholm library. There, Darren managed to garner another audience with Jarl Sturgleson’s daughter Brianna, the high archivist. He convinced her with surprising ease to accompany them to the castle to lend weight to the direness of his tale.

The young noble’s good fortune took a turn from the worse as he passed through the temple district. He was accosted by three knights of the Gold Lion- a knightly order dedicated to Roa’s prophet Amra. They recognized his Sun Templar cloak, even though he’d removed the sacred badge, and they demanded that he explain how he got it and that he turn it over to them so that they might return it to the church. He managed to convince them that he would give it back as soon as he finished his battle with Flagg and the possessed, which he told them all about. This strategy proved rewarding because he managed to convince them to gather their brethren and help the heroes defeat the fiends, turning what could have been a dangerous conflict into a boon for the party.

Soon they had met with Jarl Sturgleson and his son Leofric who was the captain of the city guard. With Briannah’s help they explained what was responsible for the mass murders and rallied the guard to help them destroy their enemy. After the meeting, Jarl Sturgleson had a private meeting with Bjorn. He had realized that Starke was helping the heroes, and he wished to recruit Bjorn to spy on Starke for him. The jarl feared Starke, for Starke had a fortress that was at least as well defended as Sturgleson castle, and he had many forces including constructs. Few people could provide much real information about the man, and Sturgleson considered him a great threat to his position in the city. Bjorn agreed to help the Jarl, and promised he’d gather what information he could.

Thanks to the work of Starke’s clockwork birds the night before, they had been able to learn where Flagg was hiding during the day. His lair was in a catacomb beneath on old temple of Rao in the Styes. The temple no longer functioned as such. It had been converted into an indoor black market and the catacombs were presumably abandoned other than local street urchins, which Flagg surely would have slaughtered.

The entrance to the catacombs was from a lower boardwalk below the level of the main buildings on the island it sat on in the Styes. The heroes had a score of Golden Lion Knights and about one hundred members of the city guard to help them. They were quite a procession as they marched through the streets of the Styes. The heroes were wearing the clockwork plate armor provided to them by Starke, and people lined the streets to watch them pass. As they neared the catacombs something concerning happened. Suddenly, each hero’s armor had a slight malfunction. It was as if the elemental bound to the armor to act as its power source had tried to escape its arcane bonds, causing a backlash of elemental energy that wounded each of the characters. The elementals were not secure, but the heroes needed the armor, so they prayed that things would not get worse and they pressed on. 

They had several of the guards position themselves outside the temple and the catacomb entrance in case any of the possessed tried to escape. Then they entered the catacombs followed by the knights of the Golden Lion and many more members of the guard. The plan was that they would seek out Flagg while the knights and the guard dealt with the possessed. It would be a tough fight, and many guards and knights would surely die, but at leas the numbers were now more in their favor.


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## PHDungeon (Jan 9, 2010)

Session 7:  Capture the Flagg

We had caught up with Flagg, and Starke generously donated experimental suits to aid us in defeating him.  They were instrumental in our victory but they could have used some fine-tuning before being used in the field.

Starke used his mechanical scouts to follow Flagg’s minions back to an abandoned temple of Rao.  Every night they would pour out of the structure into the city spreading death in their wake.  We had already wasted a night in resting and only had a day to prepare before more lives were lost.

Derren surprised me.  Starke had told us to seek the help of Sturgleson, but on Darren’s suggestion we made our way to the library.  Although he was led there partially by his libido he also had what turned out to be a very good reason to go.  The head librarian there was the daughter of the mayor, if we could convince her of how dire the situation was it would be easier to get the help of the mayor.  It was a sound plan, so we followed him.

On our way there a trio of Golden Lion Knights waylaid us.  The cloak that we had claimed from the bodies of fallen defenders in Winterhaven was of their kin and they wished to take it back. Once again Derren’s glib tongue was a boon rather than a curse.  He was able to convince them to let him keep the cloak at least until after we were able to defeat Flagg.  Not only that, Derren proved his worth by convincing them to join the fight.  It was almost like he was another person.  For once, I was impressed by the man.

Derren was able to convince the librarian that we would be able to save the city, and her clout helped us convince the mayor who committed many of the city guard to our growing army.  Now prepared, we had nothing to do but claim our suits from Starke and begin the siege.  Starke wished a report and I have included it here:

To put it plainly Victor, I do not know whether these hindered us more than helped us.  As soon as we reached Flagg’s hideout we started experiencing problems.  If I were to guess it may have something to do with the way that the Elemental had been bonded to the armor.  Every few seconds the suit would send painful shocks through my body, especially when jostled in the heat of battle.  A suit that injures its wearer every few seconds is useless. If these contraptions are to be viable you will need to find a way to bind the elemental better.  At the end of the battle, Torfinn’s elemental had even managed to escape.

It was not a long report; it did not need to be; though I felt it should be longer than saying:  We would have done better putting on suits of rusted scrap.

The fight started in the crypts, we were attacked by a large contingent of Flagg’s troops.  Our own army engaged them and we cut through quickly into the inner chamber.  There we were greeted by more of Flagg’s possessed and something new- a  possessed, beserker ogre.  I was able to place some good shots, which only drew its attention to me.  Luckily, I had been able to damage it enough that one of my allies brought it down just as it was about to charge me.

It was then that Flagg appeared, a feral beast of a man with a very large axe.  His first target was me and he leapt towards me unexpectedly burying his axe into my shoulder and knocking me down.  I knew I could not face him alone, after picking myself up my only choice was to try to run.  Unfortunately my desperate escape proved to be my downfall, the last thing I saw was Flagg’s axe descending to cleave me before I fell.

When I awoke again Torfinn was standing over me holding an empty potion.  The fight seemed almost over to my addled mind.  After ensuring that I was stable he rushed back into battle.  The suit continued to shock me as I got to my legs, seriously Victor these things are crap and barely any good in a fight, you have to strengthen the bonds used to trap the elemental to the power core.

Flagg was badly wounded and Torfinn, Bjorn and Derren were closing in; the boys were wounded as well but they had our prey outnumbered.  Flagg’s eyes shot towards the other room as he heard singing, waiting only long enough to confirm that the Golden Lion Knights had been victorious and were now coming to our aid, with several parting shots and an impossible leap Flagg exited the room and started running up the stair deeper into the chamber, Derren leapt up after him and gave chase, disappearing up the stairs.

Flagg had been able to strike down both Bjorn and Torfinn before escaping.  Yelling at our re-enforcements for a medic I climbed out of the accursed suit and ran to help my comrades.  We had to pry Torfinn out of his suit as his elemental had fled, but both him and the cleric were up and nursing their wounds when Derren returned. Flagg was dead, but not by Darren’s hand.  Someone had killed him quick enough to not been seen by the pursuing party and escaped a dead end room leaving only tokens of Loki as clues.

The day had been won but not entirely by us, and considering the mark of our benefactor on Flagg’s body, I fear we may have a new foe to face rather than a friend.  I look forward to a long rest and the soothing task of crafting at my workshop.  Perhaps some new potion belts for the group, I am sure I saw an ancient Bal Thur design in one of Starke’s books.  I will also talk to Derren about his attitude, the fool seems intent on killing himself, but I can’t let him commit suicide without some warning.  At least not until after his debt has been paid.

I did spend most of the following days in my room, and I am pleased to report that I was finally able to master manifesting my familiar, Cullen.  Though a little late for this mission I am sure he will prove his worth in the future.  He is a scout homunculus and made entirely of crystal and is about the size of a small rodent.  When not flying around, he takes the form of a simple crystal statuette I had made during my time as a blacksmith.  The only regret I have is that I will no longer be able to easily disguise the fact that I am a sorceress, but I feel the benefits out-weigh the potential problems.


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## PHDungeon (Jan 9, 2010)

A slightly late journal from Bjorn regarding session 6

Journal – Bjorn Thorskirk

It is good to be back in Grimsberg, even if the events that brought us back are less than pleasant.  Arriving it was decided to secure the skulls we found and set off for the Androsax home. We arrived as they were being visited by Starke's debt collectors. After a few tense moments Darren paid them a sum and they left. It was probably as well we were there as it could have gone badly. Darren is still very rash and tends to put his mouth into action before engaging his brain. I hope he lives long enough to learn some discretion. The life we live is not the most forgiving. 

We also learned that the city is under nightly attacks from Flagg and his creatures. Bella urged us to make our first order of business our to report to Starke.  After encountering some of his men at the Androsax's it made sense not to delay the meeting as he would shortly learn of our return. It will be interesting to meet this Starke as Bella  and the Androsax's have said little about him. I also can see they have very differing opinions about him, though I imagine the Androsax's  indebtedness has something to do with this. Amazing how people in their pride shift the blame for  their own doing to others.  

The meeting with Starke was interesting and disturbing, He seems a completely mad artificer going so far as to replace one of his wife's arms with a clock work construct appendage. Yet he also runs a successful enterprise that skirts the law if not outright ignores it. There must be more to him, and I should be careful. He informed us that he had created some armour to help us in our battle with Flagg and that we would most likely need it. 

There was also a message for Torffin that seemed to unsettle him. I know not what his past holds, but I do know of his actions now and will offer my support to him, which brings to mind Darren. How can I support Torffin regardless of his past and at the same time hold Darren's family past against him?  It would be wrong of me to do so. As such, I resolve to give Darren the benefit of the doubt until he declares his intention.

Before facing Flagg it was decided that we should attempt to find out more about the skulls and the faith of the flaming Eye.  To this end we split up Darren went to the archives and Torrfin and I the Church to see what we could find. Darren was the more successful finding a description of the ceremony to prepare the skulls and a fragment of semi prophetic eddic verse warning of the possibility end of times. There were also indications that the Trickster may be involved which could complicate things further. 

We soon go to gather forces to put an end to Flagg and his monsters so I end here for now.


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## PHDungeon (Jan 14, 2010)

Another journal from Bella

After all the time on the road my days back in my shop should have been relaxing but something is happening to me and it was Cullen that helped me discover it.  Manifesting my familiar had made me elated, after first bringing him into being I was anxious not to dissipate him again, afraid I wouldn’t be able to bring him back.

It happened when I was changing.  Cullen flew up into my face wringing his hands and avoiding my eyes as usual.

“Mistress, forgive your humble servant this question, but there is a mark on your back and your arcane power courses through it.”

Hearing that my blood ran cold.  Being a changeling I had complete control over my appearance and given this persona’s need for obscurity I had no birthmarks, nothing to differentiate her besides being another pretty face.  To hear that there was something on my back that I had not put there was terrifying.

I rushed to the mirror to look.  It was faded but still distinct, it looked like a backwards ‘Y’.  My heart raced as I realized what I had to do.  I couldn’t wait till I was out of sight of  Victor’s prying eyes.  Ever since I moved in here I’m sure the pervert watches me sleep, but this was important and he couldn’t be watching all the time.

I pulled mirror behind my changing screen into the corner and in a moment I was the Lady Reanna, a persona I had adopted to get closer to Starke when I first arrived in the city.  The mark was still there.  A thin sheen of sweat broke out over my skin.  Quickly I undressed and changed again, this time into Darrak Ironfounderson, a male dwarf persona I had taken on to learn the secrets of their blacksmithing.  My heart skipped a beat when I saw the mark persisted.  Finally I became my true shape and after several minutes I was able to breathe again when I saw that the mark did not disappear.

I changed back into my current persona and fell upon my bed my mind racing.  This must have something to do with me being a sorceress, finally my abilities had cursed me. 

I search Starke’s libraries to try and find out what the unnatural mark means and check it everyday for changes…it is darkening as each day passes …hopefully that is not a portent of things to come.


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## PHDungeon (Jan 14, 2010)

Preface: A couple of weeks have passed since the Flagg and his possessed minions were defeated. The heroes have spent the time in Grimsburg resting and recovering from their adventures. In a recent conversation with her patron Viktor Starke, Bella received a new mission. Starke has asked her to lead an expedition to the Nerathi mainland. She is to go to a town on the mainland’s northwestern coast called Alaster. There she will be representing Starke at an auction being run by hobgoblin merchants from the Kazanki empire. He has provided her with all the information she needs for the mission including a description of the item he’s interested in. Four of his men are to accompany her, and she has been provided with a sea captain who will be transporting them to Alaster on his Knarr. She has also opted to recruit her former adventuring companions for the job, as they have proven themselves to be valuable companions.

PCs
Bella (changeling rogue/sorceress 4)
Darren Androsax (human, fighter 4)
Deryl Androsax (human, sorceress 3)
Bjorn (human, cleric 4)
Torfinn (Deva, Invoker 3)

Bella's journal Session 8:  There’s a Storm Coming

Victor,

Everything was going smoothly.  We are a week into our journey and my only problem was that Tarl was a lazy, useless piece of skin; he followed orders though and Harg kept him in line; it was nothing I couldn’t handle.  The North Sea is known for being rough and this proved true, a storm appeared in front of us that Captain Garn has told me would kill us if we attempted sail through it.  Fortunately we still had plenty of time before the auction so I acquiesced to his experience and took his advice that we find a safe shore and wait for the storm to pass.

The nearest shore turned out to be anything but safe.  A Nerathi village was near where we were trying to beach the ship, and the local lord and his militia greeted us.  Although not friendly by any means, I thought I had been able to negotiate a temporary peace so that we could rest until the storm passed.  He agreed to let us stay and even seemed interested in trading with our sea captain.  He had the cargo unloaded into the village tavern and allowed us to sleep on its floor.  Derren whined of course, still holding onto a lordling’s pride even though the arrangement was more than I expected from a people with obvious animosity towards us.

That doesn’t mean I trusted them.  I had Tarl watch the boat on the shore and Cullen watching Tarl.  The peasants were asked to leave to give us our privacy but Derren bought them all a round of drinks.  I did not drink or eat anything anything I was given, though I sent food down to Tarl and allowed my men to partake and enjoy.  Bjorn agreed with me, having brought his own food and drink with him.  Derren was more trusting, drinking himself into trouble.  The peasants cleared out of the inn as the sun set; they were a dispirited lot.  Bjorn was just as cautious as I was.  He started barricading the door soon after the last of them left.  It was early into the night that we became aware that the food and drink we’d been given was poisoned. It wasn’t a deadly poison, but it did serve to make those who had consumed any fall into a near catatonic sleep. At that point we realized that our suspicions were correct and something was amiss. The tavern keeper’s daughter, affirmed our fears by trying to secretly warn us that her father was working with lord Vance to drug us so that the lord could catch us off guard.

Shortly after learning of our dire situation, Cullen returned in a panic.  My familiar reported that a small devil-like creature had slit Tarl’s throat after he had fallen asleep on watch duty at the beach.  Perhaps the arcane power growing has made me bolder, but my first instinct was to run out and face our enemy.  Bjorn was more level headed; he suggested that we remain in the inn, as it was a more defensible position.  I could easily see he was right, so we stayed.  I sent Cullen to scout, for the most part the village was empty but what he found in the village’s church was worrying, a humanoid devil, it would seem we were to be made into a sacrifice.

I sent Cullen out to guard our perimeter and started waking everyone up.  We did not have long to wait.  Soon the town’s militia with their lord, and his son and nephew closed in on the building.  They burst through the back door and the front only to find us awake and fully armed when they expected us to be sleeping.

The Lord’s son lead the charge and Darren managed to get a sword to his throat when after Bjorn beat him on the back with is warhammer when he came through the door.  Derren tried to negotiate our safe release, using the prisoner as a hostage, but his father would have none of it, he didn’t seem to care much for his child.  Upon renewing their attack the Lord’s son was the first casualty.  They had us outnumbered but we had them outclassed, bottlenecked and surprised by our combat readiness they died quickly. Deryl proved to be the most effective, taking down entire groups of warriors in devastating arcane attacks.  We soon had them retreating to the church with no losses of our own.  

On my insistence we rested at the tavern before tackling the devil in the church.  Deryl wanted to go to the Lord’s Palace, but the rest of us insisted on taking on the devil in the church first.  When we were ready we made our way to the front door.

Derren held us up a little recovering the Lord’s horse, he said that it would be instrumental in the fight; personally I think that he’s just been envious of his sister’s horse.  Derren led the charge into the church.  Luckily, the initial attack had contained the majority of the Devil’s forces and few remained.  Androsax rode his horse through the front line of foot soldiers and doing a flying leap landed in front of the devil.  It was impressive, but strategically unsound.  Now the foolish fighter was facing the toughest challenge in the room and was far from re-enforcements.  Based solely on his tactics the Gods must be smiling on him, it surprises me everyday that he still lives.  The battle was less climatic then I thought it would be, despite his arrogance the devil was dispatched quickly, and I am satisfied to say I had the pleasure of delivering him the killing shot.

We now only need to search the rest of the village and after the storm passes we should still have plenty of time to make it to the auction.  Everything is going as smoothly as can be expected.

Belladonna


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## PHDungeon (Jan 14, 2010)

I forgot to mention a couple of things regarding session #7 and the final fight against Flagg. It was certainly the toughest fight the heroes had faced. They had fought their way through several possessed, while a huge battle between the remainder of the possessed and the watch raged around them, to get to the section of the catacombs where Flagg had been hiding. 

Flagg first sent in more of his minions, including an ogre that had been possessed by one of the golden skulls. This proved to a tough fight, and it was made worse when Flagg began reigning fire magic down on them from a balcony that looked over the room they had been fighting in. Their elemental powered clockwork armor helped protect them from the fire, but they were hampered by the fact that the elementals did not seem to be fully bound to the armor and were causing them trouble with electrical backlash and gears jamming in the suites (they thought that I was very evil to give them cool homebrewed power armor that fired blasts of fire and electricity and then have it malfunction on them in a harmful way. It was very paranoiaeque for those familiar with that fine rpg). At any rate, they did their best against Flagg, but they were battle weary, and he was extremely fast and hearty (high defenses and plenty of hp). At some point during the course of the fight each PC was reduced to negative hp, and by the time guard and Gold Lion knights had finished dealing with the possessed and come to help the PCs there both Torfinn and Bjorn were unconscious. Darren and Bella were both badly wounded as well. Luckily Flagg decided to retreat at this point. Darren pursued Flagg up a flight of spiral stairs that led to an abandoned church of Rao that sat above the catacombs. However, when he reached the top of the stairs he found that Flagg was already dead. His golden skull was missing and there was a sprig of mistletoe in his mouth and gold coin with the symbol of Loki sitting on his chest. 

If I had pushed a little harder and been real nasty I could have landed a kill or two, but I showed some uncharacteristic mercy. They each got beaten within inches of their lives, but they persevered in the end, and I think they were satisfied with the overall outcome, even if they didn't manage to land the killing blow. They knew going in that they were a little over their heads, so I think they were just happy that they managed to escape with their lives.


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## PHDungeon (Jan 16, 2010)

Darren's journal from session 8

Dear Corvin,

We have been delayed at the treacherous town of Tarlane on the Western coast of old Nerath. This side of the North Sea is grey, bleak and fierce. The way was choppy and all those years sailing to the villa did nothing to quench my nausea. Still, I hoisted ropes with the captain’s lads and was all too happy when a storm forced us ashore. We met a local lord who had heard nothing of the Androsax name. Nerath seems a backwards place, at times – ironic, isn’t it?

The whole town was sullen, and it was deeper than the rain. I thought to cheer the villagers up by buying a round in their tavern, but only the barman’s daughter took kindly to me. It reminded me of that time we went wenching in Stratfjord on Avondar. But I digress. They brew strong stuff, because before too long, I was out. Deryl or someone eventually woke me up in the tavern – it had become dark, and my friends were all tense. After wiping some sour waters off my face, I gathered that some little devilish creature was spotted around our ship down on the shore below. We had landed in a town of devil worshippers!

Things remain hazy, but I remember Bjorn and I positioning ourselves at the front door. I made Deryl hide in the rafters – don’t worry – she was safe the whole time. Torfinn huddled by Bella, who had the tavern in complete tactical control. The captain guarded our goods, and his sailors guarded the back. There was a crash at the entrance and Bjorn, our sly priest, opened the latch before the second pounding. The lord’s nephew Neville toppled in and I held my blade to his throat after Bella pinned his hand to the door with a bolt. Threaten as we did, it was only a moment’s breath before new invaders swarmed us. Before us was Lord Vance astride his gallant horse, dwarven ironguard mercenaries, local militia, and a priest of Asmodeus in robes of scarlet and crimson, counselled by a foul imp. The barman, who I later learned had tried to poison us – must have opened the back door, as militia men suddenly rushed in. Bjorn macerated the head of the lord’s nephew without a second’s thought and I slashed his throat. Lord Vance seemed untroubled; his nephew had died before we killed him.

Hounds leapt at us, and as I struggled with a pair, Bella nimbly kicked off the side of the bar and flew over her enemies. I think she learned that move from me. Torfinn and Deryl competed, sending blasts of arcane and eldritch lightning into their ranks. Militia men exploded, while Bjorn stepped outside and called upon the full furry of Thor to smite the devil-men. Bella launched bolt after bolt, never losing her head in the fight. Our combined fury helped clear my head. Our reputation as Skanzi monsters was deserved! After plunging my blade down the throat of one of the dogs and explaining to Deryl the necessity of such cruelty, Bjorn and I charged into the remaining sycophants of sin, forcing the ironguard dwarves to surrender, and cutting down Lord Vance and the cleric where they stood.

All that remained was the church and the devil inside. The lord’s horse proved hard to catch, but it allowed me to burst in and reach the devil in one fell charge. I further insulted it by telling it to go back to the abyss. Bella told me later that devils come from hell. Maybe not the best moves – but with Bella’s bolts behind me, I was invincible. She dropped that devil with a bolt strait to the head and the thing exploded in flames. Much as I hate to admit it, that proud, austere woman of craft and secrets can keep her head about anything. Well, anything but her love for a certain evil genius.


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## PHDungeon (Jan 20, 2010)

Darren's journal from session #9, continuing the events from session #8.


Dear Corvin,

The rain continued well into the night. We decided to explore the church after heaping all the diabolic sacraments atop the cursed altar. After fiddling with a particularly hideous statuette near the dais, I discovered a secret staircase into the bowels of the church. We discovered the church’s treasury, and following it further, came upon the high priests’ domicile. Two women had arose early to bake bread, oblivious to our recent fight. We questioned them, and it appeared that there were few foes left over to vanquish. We also learned of Florinn, a pious servant of Rao, and therefore tormented son of Lord Vance who had lain rotting in his father’s jail. While some of our party wished to free him right away, others thought to secure the Lord’s manor first. Several of the mercenary Ironguard dwarves had fled there and we worried that they were stealing Lord Vance’s treasure, which had become rightfully ours through gory battle and glorious bloodshed.

So in the waning hours of night, we stormed the lord’s keep. Deryl grew bored of Bjorn’s hammering at the solid oak front door, and in an uncharacteristic whim, used some spellcraft to leap up to the second story window. I heard her scream and with panic in my throat, clambered up the vine-laced trellis after her. Our friends broke through the door and faced off against several pikemen barricaded behind a row of barrels. I would have assisted, but became, uh, delayed in my passage through the arrowslit window of the study on the second floor. I think it was the width of my arms, not the beer belly that made it difficult. I saw Deryl yank a crossbow bolt from her leg, hidden in the corner of the room. She was wounded by safe for the moment, and two dwarven bolters were upon me. At last I was able to slip through the window and onto the carpeted floor of a rather spare study – but not before taking a few bolts to the posterior. Biting my tongue, I leapt at the dwarves, sister at my back, hurling clouds of murky magic and blinding dust. I managed to bounce off the lord’s bed and plunge my blade strait through the first bolter’s gut. I could hear Bella, Bjorn and Torfinn square off with more bolters near the stairs, as they had dispatched the pikemen and hand hurried up to lend their aid.

Deryl and I slew the grimy dwarven thieves, and we traded insults with them to the best of our ability. Bella whispered something to the last one standing in their native tongue, and he grew pale. Then even more pale, as we mercilessly bled him dry with blade thrusts.

Freeing Florin was done at last, and the next day we sailed off to Alhaster and the auction, only days away. Arriving in the town, we discovered the place was overgrown with devil worship at the behest of its prideful, vain ruler, Lord Zeech. After a night’s rest, we managed to clean up and attend the auction. Deryl made off with my auction paddle, and as I sought her in the crowd, a tapestry of our great grandfather St. Aurielus was up for sale. Bless Deryl, for she bought it for the family. It will look grand in our hall in the vale! The main item for bid was apparently what we came for. Bella placed multiple bids on it – a hulking, spiked creature of stone and steel from the fallen empire of Bhael Turath. We were outmatched by Prince Zeech in the bidding, but the fool means to parade the thing through the city en route to his palace. It’s a long way, and lots can happen while on parade.

Wish us luck, older brother.

Derren


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## PHDungeon (Jan 25, 2010)

Victor,

There will be a slight delay in the acquisition of the package due to complications.  The storm had delayed us more than I thought and we arrived in town just as the auction was taking place, which left us no time to plan.  Your item was the most sought after with several interested buyers, the most prominent of which was Lord Zeech.

During the bidding he sent his minions to the other parties with a message, that winning the item was very important to him and should we allow him to get it at a low price he would sell it back to us.  It was a weak ploy.  I could see his assistants making their way through the crowd, most likely offering the same deal to everyone else.  It was obvious that should this lord get his way we would merely be bidding on the item again, this time at a higher price; better to risk his wrath and get it at the auction than back down to threats. 

Unfortunately many had the same idea and the price was driven up beyond our cap.  Lord Zeech has acquired the item, though at a higher price than he intended, and he means to parade it back to his palace.  Several of the interested parties looked disgruntled, and I suspect that they may try to steal what they could not buy.  I am sending Cullen to hide with the Zeech’s prize and stay on it no matter what.

You will get the item.

On a more positive note, a Quiver of Infinite Arrows had come up for bidding and I was able to acquire it at a low price.  As it was more than I currently have I must ask for 3,500 gp, which I will pay back in full.  It is a rare find and appears to be elvish in a design.  The casing seems to be ideal for camouflage in wooded areas.  Once I have learned more of rituals I should be able to make it a little more to my style, but in the meantime it should serve me greatly.

I should see you soon with your item.

Belladonna


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## PHDungeon (Jan 31, 2010)

Journal Bjorn Thorskirk # 9 & 10

We are back at sea now and on our way to the auction, I now have a moment to resume my recollections . Having cleared the temple to the foul devil we proceeded to the rectory for further investigation. At this point we learned that the prison held one of the former lord's sons, a man named Florin who was in disgrace for following the church of Rao. Certainly an improvement over devil worship, if only barely.  It was said he was visited nightly by an angel and healed of his tortures that were inflicted daily.  Truly a sign of his faith as he had little respite from his torments even in the night hours. 

As the hour was late we decided to leave him safely where he was for the moment and ensure the village was secured. To this end we went to check out the lord's manse. When we arrived we were set upon but the dwarven mercenaries we had earlier spared on condition they leave immediately. As they had broken their parole they paid the price. It was a short but nasty fight in close quarters, and given their ability with crossbows probably a better location for us to fight them.

Having cleared the last vestiges of the old regime, we freed Florin and established him as new lord. Given how steeped in evil this region is I do not have a lot of hope for him having a long reign. However, he is most definitely a modest improvement. He said he believed that there were many in the village who would support him. I hope for his sake he is right.

Not long after setting up the new lord the storm broke, and we were again on our way. Given the suddenness of the storm and its breaking soon after we had excised the rot here, I think the Storm Lord  may have had a guiding hand in our presence. I never cease to wonder at the Majesty of the Lord.  It may be that this area has a greater destiny than I know. I shall have to keep it in mind. 


We have made it to Alaster, and barely in time as the auction is tomorrow. The city proper is an orderly place, though it seems there is a pall of fear that keeps it in order. This would not be a good place to stay for long, and my skin itches as if I am under constant unseen eyes.  We attend the auction tomorrow and with luck I will pick up Bella a little something, though checking I do not seem to have the resources I thought. We shall see.


Jarl Sturgleson,

My lord I have learned, what it is Starke was after here. It is some sort of construct called a Warforged.
I do not know much about these and your scholars my be able to find out more. There is some talk that they may be self aware even alive in a way that a golem is not. I had no interaction with it personally and cannot comment further. Though it is possible that it is nothing but a very advanced construct which would be more concerning in Starke's hands.

Let me relate events as they transpired. We made port barely in time for the auction. Having secured quarters outside the city walls we prepared for the following day. At auction we failed to win the construct for Starke, and I must admit I was not too disappointed, however Bella may have earned the enmity of the local lord in forcing up the final price, and if not that certainly later actions. 

The lord having won the auction  announced he would parade his acquisition though the city to his palace.  Bella had some plan for stealing the construct if it should make it to the palace, but there were several other interested parties at the auction who seemed eager to obtain it so we were not sure that it would make it that far. 

To ensure it made it as far as the palace we decided to shadow its progress, and not far from the new construction of the palace walls the procession was attacked by a dark spawn and its shadowy companions.  Seeing opportunity we also sprang into action and fought the assailants. 

In the ensuing battle I noticed that the leader bore a symbol of the dark trickster.  This renewed my efforts to ensure that they did not gain possession. We either killed or ran them off and in the chaos Bella, Darren and the construct slipped away. 

Darren later let us know that Bella, using a scroll, opened a portal though which she and the construct passed. When we make landfall in Grimsburg I will find out if Starke does indeed have possession or not and let you know. 

Your respectful servant,

Bjorn Thorskirk 

Journal 

We are again at sea, and may or may not have succeeded in the task we were sent for. Though I think it would be a bad idea to return while the current lord is in power. We went to the auction and while we failed to gain the item Starke sent us for Bella won an item she long wished for. I had hoped to obtain it for her but it was beyond my means. For that matter  it was beyond hers as well. She has gone into debt with Starke to posess it. I gave here what I could to reduce the debt, and the hold Starke has over her.  She is a valuable companion. One I hope is okay, for she is not with us now. Darrel tells me that she and the construct passed through a portal she cast from a scroll after the battle of the town square. 

I have also encountered a minion of the untrusted one. Their interest in the construct we were sent to  get concerns me but not as much as the fact that whatever way we travel we are running into signs of them. There is something far greater at work, and I hope we are srtong enough to face it when the time comes. 

I have felt my powers and confidence increasing since leaving the monastery, but am aware of my shortcomings. I trust in Thor to see me through however and his challenges have only strengthened me so far. I can only do as i see right and hope it carries me through.

I am a little concerned about Torrfin, he seems a little more distant as if there is something bothering him. I will let him know that if he needs anything I am there to support him. As for Darren, he seems to blow which ever way the wind blows, he is young and still finding his way but he needs to soon develop a path and stick to it or he will alienate all. I shall have to take him to one side and talk to him soon.


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## PHDungeon (Feb 1, 2010)

Session 10:  Heart of Steal

I have arrived home successful, my reputation in Starke’s eyes growing.  Until this moment I would have been uncertain, but now I know that I am quickly becoming an asset to Victor and not merely a novelty.  The time for the two bit jobs is over, Starke will now trust me with the big jobs, and he’ll never disrespect me like he would any other woman.  He is exactly where I want him, and all it took was delivering him a glorified sword (the warforged).

As suspected there were other interested parties in the package.  When Zeech foolishly paraded it to his palace they saw their opportunity.  Some kind of tiefling sorcerer and a band of mercenaries attacked the parade, blasting the guards with fire magic and alchemy, immediately sewing mass panic in the crowd of onlookers. Among the mercenaries, two stood out from the flock. They were cloaked in shadow and moved with deadly grace- in all likelihood trained assassins, the kind that trade a portion of their souls for dark power to make them more deadly killers. 

These attackers quickly closed in, bursting out from the crowds. Some of the mercenaries attempted to finish off the distracted and wounded guards, while others moved directly towards the wagon, presumably in an attempt to free the warforged. We used their attack as a distraction, closing in around the construct and bolstering the ineffectual city guard.  We were careful not attack the guards and focus on the mercenaries, but Zeech’s guards didn’t know what was going on and saw us all as enemies. Darren and I both jumped into the wagon that held the cage containing the warforged. There we battled the mercenaries that were attempting to either free of the warforged or steal the wagon. Unfortunately, the sorcerer’s initial fireball had spooked the horses, and we were only barely able to leap aboard before they jolted forward and charged down the street towards the market trampling several of the scorched guards that had led the procession. It was chaos. A few mercenaries were on the wagon, and Darren and I were locked in a three-way fight with them and the wagon driver and his guard. Furthermore, the tiefling was still hurling spells at us. At some point, I was hit by a flask of alchemist’s acid, which caused me great agony as it seared my flesh. Torfinn tried to help by hurling spells from the sidelines, and somehow Deryl managed to get up on a rooftop where she too tossed spells down at our foes. I also recall one of the assassins suddenly appearing in the back of the wagon. It was as though he’d materialized out of nowhere. He and Darren faced off, and I tried support Androsax, by putting a few bolts into the bastard. Unfortunately, when the assassin first appeared he wasn’t fully tangible, and my bolts near passed through him, causing much less damage than they normally would have. Luckily, Darren’s swordsmanship served him well, and I was impressed to see that he managed to parry most of the assassin’s attacks.

The wagon careened onward, and the sorcerer and the second of his assassin hirelings chased after the out of control wagon. Mighty Bjorn hurried after them, while the remainder of the tiefling’s mercenaries were delayed by a running battle with the surviving members of the wagon’s guard. Fighting on the wagon was a challenge. It jostled about and made it difficult to load and aim Touch of Death, but it became more so when one of Torffin’s spells stunned the horses causing them to fall forward into the dirt. The wagon came crashing to a halt, and the cage that held the warforged was flung off. Both Darren and fell down, but at least we stayed in the wagon, unlike the majority of our enemies. The events are now a blur. One of the mercenaries managed to make it to cage. He used some sort of alchemical acid to weaken the lock, and the warforged was able to kick open the door. The tiefling had been badly wounded, and I suspect he was contemplating retreat. He should have done so. Instead, seeing his prize was free, he cast a spell that took control of the warforged. However, before he was able to make off with it, I put a bolt into his hellspawned head. The construct snapped free of his charm, and panicked. It bolted, plowing through the crowds and running off into the city.  By this time reinforcements from the city guard had organized were closing in. They were ready to arrest us despite the fact that we had not fired a single shot at them.  Not knowing how this would eventually play out, we still restrained ourselves from attacking them. I leapt out of the cart ran after the construct.

It was easy enough to keep in my sights for it plowed its way through the crowds that thronged the market, leaving a trail of screaming civilians behind. Where it relied on force, I relied on agility, and I wove my way among the throngs with grace. I soon realized the Darren was also chasing the thing, but it seemed that we’d left the rest of our companions behind. A squad of city guard was in turn pursuing us, but they could not keep up with their armor and shields slowing them. The sprint was tiring, but I was doing well. We made it out of the market, but then I came upon a wall. It was a new section of city wall that was under construction, apparently an attempt to seal the noble quarter off from the main part of the city. Several stories of wooden scaffolding lined the incomplete wall. The warforged had already begun to climb up. I don’t know where he thought he’d go, but I could do nothing but continue the pursuit. At this point, Androsax overtook me, and he made a backhand comment, as he used his great strength to haul himself up the scaffold with ease.  I clumsily climbed up after them, fueled by my embarrassment that the fool could over shadow me in anything.  The package was not far ahead of us, and we had reached one the uppermost section of scaffolding.

I watched as Derren chased after our quarry along the planks and leapt between a gap that separated one section of scaffold from another.  The earlier humiliation of the climb was still burning in my mind, and I jumped after him. Unfortunately, my leap fell short, but I managed to catch onto the second level of scaffold.  I cursed my body’s failing energies and made my mistake as gracefully as I could. Then I hauled myself back onto the scaffold and continued the chase. I hazarded a glance back over my shoulder to see if any of the guards were still on our tails. One of them, the commander I believe, had managed to keep up better than I had thought, and I was just in time to see him attempt the gap. He was wearing heavy armor. I think he realized what a bad idea it was and tried to change his mind at the last second, but by then it was too late. He had already stepped forward. He plummeted to the ground far below where he landed on a pile of bricks. I shook my head and hurried after my quarry.

Finally, I was able to catch up with Derren and the package. I couldn’t see them clearly because they were directly above me and the planks blocked my view. However, I could hear the boards groaning under their weight, and it was clear that they were locked in a grappling match. Instead of trying to get up to their level, I decided I might try to reason with the thing from below.  The ancient war machines of the Bael Turath empire were said to have had a facsimile of sentience, like talking dogs.  I called out to him, making him aware of the situation.  The guards had surrounded us down below, and it was only a matter of time before they made their way up or took us down with arrows. I explained this situation to him, and told him that we would be able to teleport him to safety with the ritual I carried with me. We were his best shot of getting out of the city. I tried to convince him of this and hoped that he would come quietly.  Luckily, he was listening and he believed me. I don’t think he fully trusted me, but I at least had convinced him to let us help him try to escape. The three of us climbed up onto the top of a newly built section of the wall. They hadn’t completely filled it in yet, and their was a shallow trench running down its center that we were able to take shelter in. There I pulled out my scroll and began the ritual that would take us back to Grimsburg.

Derren attempted to lead our pursuers away, and he was able to for the most part but too many had seen us.  I was moments away from completing the ritual when they closed in on us.  Derren proved his worth here; his fighting far outweighs his skill in diplomacy.  He held his ground against three fully trained soldiers and none passed him to disrupt my casting.  The machine also helped, apparently convinced of our intentions from watching our bounding fighter.

It took all my concentration but with one last deft stroke I completed the circle and a tear opened in front of me and within I could see the basement of Starke’s bar in Grimsburg.  It spluttered, the connection unstable and I knew it would close in just a couple seconds.  It was my first ritual, I was overjoyed to see it work, especially under these conditions.  Screaming out to the construct I dove into the rift, and it followed me. Then it closed. Darren and my companions had been left behind.  In a way I was glad because it gave Zeech’s men no chance to follow us, but I hoped that Darren would be able to away.

We had taken advantage of the situation and had escaped with Zeech’s prize. I would have felt proud of myself if I hadn’t seen a flaw in the plan.  Here I was, a soft fleshy humanoid in a room, alone with a giant, metal, man shaped machine built solely for the purpose of killing people.  I continued to try to keep the warforged calm. I called one of Victor’s henchmen down to the basement where we had arrived. I immediately sent him to fetch Victor, for he alone would be strong enough to subdue the thing. I waited, remaining in the room with the deadly machine.

I had seen the way my companions had looked at the captive construct, and I was glad I had been able to still deliver him to Grimsburg.  They did not understand these things as I did.  This was not a person, and it was not truly conscious.  It had not been born but built, and it had only been built for one purpose:  to kill.

It looked at me with menace in its eyes, and in a cold, lifeless voice showed me his restraints.  It asked for me to release its hands as a show of good faith.  Being alone with the weapon, I didn’t see any other choice but to undo his bonds, or I truly believe it would have tried to kill me. It had already demonstrated that it was plenty deadly even with restraints.  I reasoned that it was the only way to hold him here and that Victor could handle him once he arrived.

Unfortunately Victor sent men, and the first words out of one of their idiot mouths were “We’re here to pick up the prisoner”- it was like Derren had joined me.  The construct went from docile to dangerous in an instant, and all his rage was centered on me, his betrayer.  Knowing a losing battle when I saw one, I dove out of the room and raced up the stairs. It slashed me across the back with a serrated gauntlet as I fled, but I managed to get away. I then sent all of Victor’s men from upstairs down to re-enforce the fools below. I could hear the sounds of the battle as I left the bar. I later learned that it had cost six of his men, but Victor had his warforged.

In a week or so Derren and company would return.  In the meantime, I relaxed in my workshop pouring over archaic texts.  The strangest thing was starting to happen.  The books were mostly Draconic and sometimes, without looking it up, I was starting to understand the words, even how they were spoken.  I wasn’t learning them; they were just showing up in my head.  It was in one of these ancient texts that I found the Mark.  The book I found was not complete and it did not give me much information.  It is a mark of prophecy, one of many.  This particular mark translated as the mark of the scribe, showing up on great writers and diplomats.  As I am neither I continue to search through the libraries for more information; I need to find out why this mark is on me and more importantly how to get rid of it.  As it continues to darken against my skin my fear grows.


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## PHDungeon (Feb 6, 2010)

The journal above was Bella's journal from session 10. We are currently taking a little break, and one of my players is running a short game, while I regroup and prepare more material. We should be back at this game the weekend of the 21st. At that point Bjorn, Bella and Darren will be at 5th level and Torfinn and Deryl will be at 4th.

They will be back in Grimsburg, and their plan is head back up the Nentir river and into the Vale once again.


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## PHDungeon (Feb 14, 2010)

Dear Corvin,

Today I set sail with Deryl, Bjorn and Torfinn out of Alhaster and back towards Grimsburg. Bella has magicked her way ahead of us, her mission complete. I am glad to be leaving, for it is a miserable place. Their ruler Zeech is a queer and unpleasant man, prone to tyranny and vanity in equal measure. It will be good to walk through the birded streets of Grimsburg, look upon Brianna again and return to the Vale.  

After the auction, we wisely followed the parade from the Kanzaki house to Zeech’s palace. A band consisting of a tiefling warlock and assassins tried to take the warforged, but they were outmatched by the guard and our quick thinking. The construct escaped, and part of me wished to let it go – so living it seemed. But Bella was determined to be the loyal lackey, as always, and the two of us gave hot pursuit. I love it when women run with men: their faces flushed, their breathing hard. Bella attempted to scale some scaffolding, and then I overtook her. At that point I contemplated helping the machine-man find freedom, but my companion was never far behind. With reservation and a sinking feeling, I held off the guard long enough for Bella to escape with her prize. I hate the compromises we must endure, dear brother, to see our noble plan come to fruition. Still, Bella’s dogged determination and doglike loyalty will make her a steadfast subject one day of our small kingdom.

Your brother,

Derren 

***

Ode to Brianna:
Curls of brown like the leather tome,
White the face of parchment: the world of words is home.
Black the eyes entrapping, like the ink of new-made mapping
I wish to be a page of your diary; a name to thoughts untiring,
Like a lonely scholar’s love.


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## PHDungeon (Feb 19, 2010)

A quick journal from Bella...

I watch my final opponent from the safety of my hiding place.    Just moments ago he had passed so close to me that I could smell the sweat off his stinking body.  His breath came to him in ragged gasps and his eyes darted everywhere.  He was hunting desperately for me, but he was angry, infuriated by his own impotence.  He had yet to realize that he was already dead but I could see in his eyes that he had come to believe it.

This section of Grimsburg was deserted and Victor posted sentries and paid off the town guard to make sure it stayed that way.  He used this area as a training ground, an urban jungle used to keep his employees skills sharp and to learn of their capabilities.  Unfortunately these buffoons were hardly qualified as capable.

As soon as the game had begun I let the cold embrace of the shadows shelter me from prying eyes.  From the safety of my cocoon I sent my familiar Cullen out into the night, seeking my unwitting prey.  Cullen had easily found his two other companions and had relayed their positions to me.  It had been too simple to quickly close in on them and take them out of play, then dart back into hiding.  This nameless minion was the last.  Raising my crossbow I took my shot.

With an anticlimactic grunt he fell quietly in a heap.  Thanks to Victor’s special bolts none of them were truly dead, only unconscious, lucky for them.  Hopefully when they woke up they would have more respect for women in the organization.  Starke may be chauvinistic, but he isn’t blind or stupid.

These men had been new to the guild and since I had been away had never met me.  Unfortunately they had also been in the room when I entered to report to Victor and had felt the need to make a few colourful remarks on my competency.  With a wry smile this little exercise had been Starke’s suggestion.  The idiots had accepted the “challenge” eagerly.

Hardly satisfied I sauntered from the shadows.  Passing by my final victim I feel Cullen land on my shoulders.  Standing over his body I look up into the sky and hopefully into Victor’s scrying eyes.

“Thank-you for this opportunity to show your new men what a woman is capable of Victor, if you need me for any other lessons I shall be in my room as usual.”

As I waited for Bjorn to return the down time has enabled me to continue my arcane studies.  Leaving the mystery of my mark alone I have started concentrating on Flagg’s captured ritual book in earnest.  I had recently acquired some amber and had thought to increase my weapons ascetics with jeweled eyes.  Unfortunately anything that catches the light on an assassins weapon is a death sentence so instead I pour over the cryptic cursive text of my fallen enemy in a hope to unlock the mysteries of enchantment.  The work is difficult, challenging and far more rewarding then teaching these gentlemen manners.


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## PHDungeon (Feb 21, 2010)

A rare journal from Deryl Androsax regarding her activities since returning to Grimsburg from Ahlastar.

Since her return home Deryl has been restless and given to agitated ramblings; the word you catch most frequently whispered to herself seems more a question… “Where?” While the party has always thought the child-sorceress 'strange' this behavior does seem out of character...

On the third night home Derren awakes in the night with a sense of foreboding heavy upon him...he hears slow, shuffled footsteps in the hallway outside his room.

He finds Deryl making her way down the hall like a mad, blind woman; muttering to herself in a mixture of common and the sorcerer’s cant she uses during only the most strenuous of arcane feats. With one hand grasping and clutching before her, her second hand claws along the corridor halls.

Derren makes to grab his sister; she is hot to the touch, feverish and slick with sweat. He realizes then that she is asleep, in some sort of trance and moving like one possessed. He hesitates in his attempt to restrain her and Deryl turns to face him. As she ‘looks’ up at her brother he notes that her eyes are open and the irises shift left and right in rapid succession. She claws her hand in front of her chest, twists her ‘clawed’ hand to face out from her and goes through the motion of ‘pushing’ outward…it is an ancient gesture meant to ward off evil. Derren registers blood on her hand and realizes that where she has been groping along the wall, she has done so with enough urgency and force to bloody the tips of her fingers.

Satisfied somehow, she resumes her ‘journey’…without turning around she continues walking, backwards.

It takes a moment for Derren to collect his wits and some deep, purposeful breaths to slow his heartbeat. Concern etched deeply in his face he follows cautiously behind his sister. Her movement remains slow and searching as if she had no familiarity with the building, but she eventually makes her way to the main room. The last of the fire still burns in the fireplace and shadows dance along the walls as it flickers. For a moment Derren worries that Deryl will exit the house but she makes her way, groping and muttering still, towards the fireplace.

A tendril of emotion, fascination perhaps, mixes with the sense of foreboding and her brother watches her progress towards the fire; realizing too late that she is headed directly for the fire itself! Fraternal instinct finally kicks in and he calls out. His muscles coil and tense, preparing to react…when he finds himself suddenly plunged into complete darkness. He fears some sort of magical darkness, so complete is it, but slowly his eyes begin to adapt.

Deryl is in the fireplace, crouched down and appears to be digging through the ashes and remains of the fire pit. Even as he registers this he is moving toward her…fearing for the burns she must be enduring, amazed that she isn’t crying out in pain.

And then it registers: no heat radiates from the fireplace, the fire and embers have been completely snuffed out. Deryl doesn’t even register her brother’s nearness. Not for one second has she ceased digging around in the ashes.

Panic renders Derren immobile and he watches in curious horror. No longer is Deryl digging through the ashes. Instead she appears to be tracing runes in the soot. The sorcerer’s cant is now deep and guttural, inhuman even. She is sweating profusely and swaying to the silent rhythm of her magic working.

Quite suddenly it is over, the cant ceases and Deryl becomes still. The silence lasts only a moment. Derren hears, and feels, the stonework shift beneath him. A piece of the fireplace stone inlay shifts up and out of is ‘place’ with the grinding mechanic similar to a long disused door. From beneath the stone a soft light, like the earliest tendril of sunlight just before dawn, suffuses the fireplace. Deryl reaches into the cavity and withdraws…a dagger!! Cradling it in her hand she traces the flat of the blade with her finger. To Derren it seems she is reading something, tracing outlines and mouthing silently, but he sees no rune work.

Derren doesn’t catch the next words on Deryl’s lips but they are more of that arcane language. Faster than he’s seen his sister move before, she scores the palm of her hand with the blade, drawing blood. Holding the bloodied blade before her it becomes sheathed in flame.

Looking from the blade to his sister’s face Derren realizes that Deryl is staring back at him with an unnerving focus.

“Mine” is all she says before rising and making her exit, leaving a stupefied Derren in the ashes of the fireplace.


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## PHDungeon (Feb 21, 2010)

A few quotes regarding what Darren's been up to since returning to Grimsburg.

"I seen him, round the ol' Boarshead, like before - only he's so much more serious. I e'en saw him swearing off whorin' and fightin' one night. Says to old Mirelda he's in love."

- Labradare Fox, Veteran

"Derren? The second Androsax? Good looking? Not as bright as Corvin? Yeah. Say what you will for the eldest, but young Derren's been spedning a lot of time around Skaldsholm. Even perusing the old bookshops in Velmarket street. Says he's looking for stories of the Templars, heretical orders of knights. Maybe he's got more than a strong sword arm, after all."

- Micerkin, parchment maker

"Master ... the Androsax boy has been around again. He even roughed up Glazy when he muttered someting about the Eye. We have to be careful. Rumour is, they found something in the Vale."

Overheard in the Velvet Taproom

"What's wrong? See this bruise? It was that arrogant pup Derren. he takes off with his sister, all high and mighty about exploring the Vale. Doesn't pay his acadamy fees, doesn't cancel his sword classes. Then out of nowhere, he returns, wanting to spar. I mention something about his family debt, and he plonks a sack of gold on the table. 'This shoul make up for it' he says, a little too smugly. So we have at it, and the next think I know, the footman, the prince and myself are all sprawling on the ground. it was the light, you know. Caught me at a bad angle."

- Rix Seven-fingers, Fencing Instructor

"So this young man, maybe eighteen, built like an ox, comes in asking for ink. I say to him 'Where do you want it, baby?' and he takes off his shirt. Scarred, burned and rippling with muscle, he points to his back and says 'Right here', slamming a parchment on the table. Its like this giant hammer wreathed in a sunburst. The parchment looks like its been torn out of a book. He has fresh cuts on his arm. He wags his coin purse, and honey, I don't ask anymore questions."

- Shemastra, Tattoo Artist


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## PHDungeon (Feb 21, 2010)

A few quick missive's from Bjorn since his return to Grimsburg...

Belladonna Nightshade,

I hope this missive finds you well. We are back in Grimsburg having arrived on the morning tide. If you are free this evening please meet me at the Raider's Maiden, so that we may relate the events after your departure from Alhaster.

Yours in Thor 
Bjorn

Jarl Surtur,

Shortly after arriving back in Grimsburg we got in contact with Bella, and I can confirm that Victor Starke has possession of the Warforged. Unfortunately Starke is very paranoid and I cannot get closer to him as regards this project. I am happy to pass along what information I can but my strengths do not naturally run toward espionage. I will seek more information from Bella who seems to have a greater contact and access to Starke and pass along what I find out. If the time comes for direct confrontation with Starke know I will lend my support in full. In the meantime we plan to head north again to see what we can do about the continuing Orc problem.

Respectfully 
Bjorn Thorskirk

Jarl Surtur,

I have received your most generous gift and thank you wholeheartedly. I will endeavour to bring honour to it. It also occurred to me that the Scarlet Stone Academy had sent representatives to the auction to bid on the warforged. They would probably be most interested to know that Starke had possession of it. There is the possibility of pitting the two factions against each other to your benefit.

Respectfully 
Bjorn Thorskirk


(Jarl Surtur's generous gift is a suit of +2 veteran's chain mail).

We are back to this game today.


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## PHDungeon (Feb 28, 2010)

Game Session #11

Darren Androsax (human, fighter 5)
Deryl Androsax (human, sorceress 4)
Belladonna (changeling, rogue 5)
Bjorn (human, cleric of Thor 5)
Torfinn (deva, invoker 4)

In our most recent game session, the heroes traveled back north up the Nentir River towards Fallcrest. Due to the orc troubles in the vale, there were few merchants foolhardy enough to risk the journey upriver. However the Swiftwater Halfling clan would not be deterred; they had been plying the river for generations, and it would take more than some orcs to scare them from their work. The Swiftwaters granted the heroes passage on one of their riverboats.

While stopped over in the town of Moonstair, the heroes learned that a particularly troublesome troll had been wreaking havoc on the homesteads outside the town walls. It had even recently made a brazen attack on some homes within the town itself. Town militia, and even a pair of seasoned adventures from the Roaringhorn family had been sent out to slay the beast, but none had returned. At the behest of the town’s half elven lord mayor, the heroes took up the task of ridding the town of the nightmare.

With the help of a retired alcoholic adventurer named Eric Trollarm (a once great archer whose arm had been torn off by a troll), the heroes tracked the beast to its lair in a nearby gulley.

The following is Bella’s journal detailing those events…

Today I have faced my first Troll, and it was just as challenging as the tales say.  At first I was skeptical, our guide was a filthy, putrid man named Eric Trollarm who was rotting away in his own misery.  I would have preferred to leave him in his pit of a home but unfortunately we needed him to find the monsters lair and apparently he was the only one who could lead us. I made certain to stay upwind.

Having reached the lair of the beast my first act was to send Cullen in.  Although not as potent as Deryl in magic, I am particularly fond and proud of my little familiar.  I admit that I find myself envious of the girl’s power.  My own skills in the arcane arts are comparatively weak, and the homunculus is useless in a fight.  It is his ability to scout that has proven more valuable to me then being able to hurl fireballs.  A wise assassin soon learns that knowledge is the greatest power of all.

Cullen soon returned and was able to inform me that the Troll was asleep deep in his lair and give a general layout of his cave.  My heart racing I entered quietly into its domain and found a suitable spot from which to fire my bolts before letting the rest of my companions enter.

I watched in hiding as Derren charged into the cave.  He was trying to be quiet, trying being the operative word.  He did not seem to realize that I was using him, an act that I would almost feel guilty for in the moments to come…almost.  In fact, I would have felt guilt if the oaf hadn’t tried to show me his non-existent scar after the battle… I mean doesn’t he realize that divine healing doesn’t leave scar tissue?  He should, he gets it enough.

As expected, the troll awakened to the fighter’s presence.  The Troll’s head crested its nest. I was horrified to see that hanging around the troll’s neck was a golden skull. It was a possessed. Humans were deadly enough in such a state. I could only imagine how terrible a foe a possessed troll might be. I had act with utmost efficiency, and with a cold chill traveling down my spine I released my bolt.  It struck true and the monster screamed in pain.  Its red eyes scanned the shadows, completely ignoring Derren and settling upon me.  With my death in those eyes it leaped into the air and surely would have reached me if my first shot had not hampered its movement.  Instead it fell clumsily near Derren who took the chance to close in on his quarry.

Having hobbled my enemy, my second shot ensured that he would stay where he was.  As the monster stood I could see the frustration in his face, and the realization that he could not reach me.  It turned his full fury upon Derren.  I watched as the troll lifted Derren up in the air by the ankles, slammed his body down on the ground like it weighed nothing and then spread his legs and bit down hard between them.  I’m sure Derren felt blessed for once that the troll’s jaws were wide enough, and he himself was small enough not to suffer any permanent damage, but it still made my eyes water to watch.

Bjorn was able to reach Derren in time to heal him, and the rest of the battle went without serious incident.  Deryl proved to be particularly effective.  Our weapons were not as effective as usual, for the thing was healing much of the damage were causing at a phenomenal rate.  It wasn’t until Deryl hurled some kind of acid upon it that we all could see that it could not heal.  She may be a child, and she may be an Androsax but that doesn’t make her a fool.  The intelligent sorceress saw her advantage and pressed it.  If we had not had her there the fight would have gone on longer and been a lot tougher.  I still believe that this life is still not the life for a girl of her age, but more and more I am finding that I am glad she is with us rather than not.  Besides, she is stubborn and even if we left her behind I am sure she would find a way to follow us.  It is better to have her here where we can watch her than alone upon our trail.  Once Derren dies I shall have to insist that she continue to travel with us.  I can already see that Torfin would be indifferent; it would be Bjorn that I would have to convince.  I’m sure I could, if pressed, but we will cross that bridge when we come to it.


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## PHDungeon (Mar 1, 2010)

Session #11 continued.

After dealing with the troubles in Moonstair the heroes continued their journey up river towards Fallcrest. While passing through the Witchlight fens they came across the river boat beached on the shore. There were several human corpses scattered about the beach. The corpses were all recent, and it was clear that they had met horribly violent deaths. Bjorn's journal details this part of the journey along with some of the events that took place after they reach Fallcrest.

Bjorn journal 11

It is good to be heading north again, I feel at home in the smaller towns and villages. Jarl Surtur of Grimsburg has asked us to help in Fallcrest, as they are under threat of attack from the gathering orc hordes.  The trip up river has been relaxing (except for the skull possessed troll) and the Halflings are good hosts. There seems to be some disturbance on shore...

Well that was interesting and a bit of a close call for Darren. When we went to shore we found the remains of an attack on a money lender from Fallcrest. There had been rumours of shifter and werewolf attacks on the unwary in the area, and we found definite evidence to verify the rumours. The bodies had been savaged and we found tracks leading into the fens. We also found some chests that had been left behind hidden in the reeds, possibly for future collection by the attackers. Inside the chests was disturbing evidence that the moneylender was a devotee of Asmodeus.  We considered pursuing the trail of the attackers. The river boat that belonged to the merchant and his men was still intact and river worthy so we decided to re-float it and continue on our way, as the mission to Fallcrest was urgent and it was deemed imprudent to follow an unknown number of attackers into the fens. The marshy land would give them a great advantage. Though if time was not pressing I am sure we would have ventured forth anyway. 

It was as we were about to re-float the boat that we were attacked by several swamp goblins and a pair of odd beasts I am told were cockatrice. I had heard of them but never before encountered them. We managed to kill or run off the attackers, but in the process young Darren was bitten and poisoned by one of the beasts. The result of the poisoning was complete petrification. The only thing I was aware of that would help was a ritual of remove affliction, but unfortunately my training has not progressed far enough for me to preform it, and we had no scroll to make the attempt. However Torfinn seemed to recall that the gland of the beast that did the poisoning could be used to reverse the effect. This reminded me of some of my training in the healing arts along the same lines. We proceeded to remove the glands from the creatures and experiment.  Fortunately, for Darren we were successful and we restored mobility to him.

The balance of the journey upriver was uneventful and we made Fallcrest in good time. The town is in turmoil as the Orcs amass upriver. The town has hired some Dwarven mercenaries who are bored now with inactivity and are causing almost as much damage as if the orcs were attacking. On arriving we presented ourselves to the Lord Markelhay after encountering a few of the local Priests of Rao on the way to his keep. Typically they are more concerned with their own power than in the defence of the town, and were pressuring the Lord to expel the local magic user. Our meeting with the lord went as well as could be expected seeing he was under threat of invasion and the five of us were what was sent from Grimsburg at his request for aid. Though, I am sure we will be of more use than a couple of dozen barely trained men at arms.  

After speaking with the lord, Torfinn, myself and Darren headed back to the Inn while Bella and Deryl went to talk with the mage- Nimrozan.  Since our last visit, there has been much done for the town's defences including closing the wall breach with a palisade and clearing the trees back from the walls. In the morning I will confer with the local Cleric of Odin and look to the training of the volunteer militia.


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## PHDungeon (Mar 1, 2010)

Dear Corvin,

My first night back in the vale! Our trip back was downright dangerous – we sailed upriver with the Swiftwater clan, stopped over in Moonstair and beached off the Witchlight Fens. Danger and mystery glared at us at every turn- on road and water, city and country. It is like some evil is slowly gathering, churning the dull roots of winter and sprouting cruel and savage flowers.

In Moonstair, a lone troll had attacked the town the evening before our arrival. The insolent thing swam up to the dock and grabbed a few deckhands before slipping away again to its lair. With the help of a one-armed drunkard and sometime hero, we tracked it to its lair in a gully overlaid with brambles. Bella crept in cautiously, covering Bjorn and I as we strode up a narrow den to its under cave warren. The thing awoke at the sound of someone’s clumsiness (I am a forgiving type, and prefer not to remember who), and Bella had it staggered with a crossbow bolt in its braincage. The bolt must have severed some nerve as the wretched thing kept falling. I have never faced a troll, let alone in single combat. St. Aurielous would have been proud! You should see the scar I have across my belly – the thing reached for my legs, threw me to the ground, tried to tear my legs apart, and as though that wasn’t enough, it took a great bite out of my groin. The pain was white hot, the panic was overwhelming and I can scarce put words together save this: Thank the Gods for codpieces. My friends now call me Derren Trollchoker. I kind of like it, as it takes a lot to choke a troll.

Sadly, there were no survivors of the troll’s raid that we could rescue. We burned the bodies and returned their gear to Moonstair.

On the river north, we fell across a shore where a boat was grounded and corpses gathered. I leapt onto the derelict vessel, my friends behind. Some savage ambush had caught these merchants unawares – many clawed hands across their bellies and pawed feet in the sandy shores. I even discovered the body of a Fallcrest moneylender named Amros Kalroth among the slain, and in possession of some Asmodean artefacts. Deryl found the deed to his house and decided to keep it. Perhaps we will have an Androsax hall in Fallcrest sooner rather than later! I must remember to investigate the presence of devil worship in the vale sooner. Tired of our endless debates to sail on or follow a trail, some swamp goblins attacked us, with these horrid clucking, poisonous pets that nearly bit my gibbets off a second time that week. I don’t remember much after facing off against one of them ... Deryl later told me I had turned to stone. She was worried that my friends were going to leave me on the shore, or toss me into the river ... but surely she misunderstood their adult humour. I came to myself along the river, but it took a day for my full eloquence to return to me.

We returned to the vale, managing to make as good an impression on Lord Marklehay as we did a bad one with Grelmor Zeech, the Cleric of Rao. He has it in for Deryl, but luckily, she and Bella befriended the local wizard. Deryl is camped up in his tower, protected by an ... enthusiastic little Halfling named Lazlo and an army of cats. Oh, and Bella’s there, and she can be pretty protective too when no one else is looking. The whole damn town is surrounded by orcs. I fear the worst.  

What’s left to say? The boys are with me at the Cliffwatch. The moon is a sliver in the sky. I wonder what Briannah is doing? I can’t believe she gave me her father’s ... wait – there is the sound of conflict outside.


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## PHDungeon (Mar 2, 2010)

Just a question for anyone who has been reading this journal. How difficult is it to follow? I realize that some of the details are being lost, and that with each posting being from a different PC it is a bit like putting a puzzle together to get the whole picture. I'm hoping that it is at least possible to get a pretty good sense of the whole picture, but because I've been running each game session and have a very clear picture of all that has happened my vision is skewed. It is hard for me to discern how difficult it is for the reader to piece together. Feel free to let me know if you have any thoughts on this or if there are any events that you wish more details about (I can try to fill in any holes).


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## Faren (Mar 2, 2010)

*feedback!*

Hey PH,
It's a fun read, and usually the letters bring out a nice element. But yeah, at other times, it's difficult to follow. I usually skim through the letters until I reach your summary, then go back and read through them. Both the journals and summaries are pretty well written, and you seem like a creative and talented bunch, but it is a lot like putting together a puzzle: enjoyable, but can be tedious at times. It's almost like reading 4-5 stories at once, counting the summary, which can be overwhelming for lazy readers like me who sometimes want to just cut to the chase. You may want to consider removing the summaries, or make them smaller or less frequent. The letters usually give enough of an idea of what's going on, especially with three of them together (sometimes more). Most D&D stories only include a single player's (or DM's perspective), and stand well on that alone. I think it's fantastic that all of you are so interested in writing so much, and writing it very well.


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## PHDungeon (Mar 2, 2010)

A rare journal from Deryl Androsax...

….written just after a rather bizarre dinner with Nimorzan


Dear Diary,

I had the same dream last night...the one with the pale, eyeless face crying tears of blood…I think it is trying to speak with me.  I kept trying to ‘lean in’ closer to hear what it had to say, but then I realized that its lips are stitched together.  I refer to it only because I can’t determine if it is male or female.  I tried to interact, but like last time, the face faded away and I was left dreaming of my dagger.

I can’t put my finger on why exactly, but with this dagger I feel more complete somehow, and in other ways not completely myself.  Take today for example…now I’ve never had much respect for the Church of Rao, or her clergy…but today’s display with the priest en route was definitely out of character.  The words came so quickly, but it was like someone was prompting me…and while I’m not exactly apologetic I am a little…surprised.  No longer am I hiding behind my brother; saying this I realize something.  I have changed.  I am no longer looking to reclaim the proud Androsax family history and re-establish the family name; I am becoming my own person, and I will establish my own name.  It’s just as well, as Derren is more likely to become a garden statuary long before the Androsax’s name is restored.

Magic flows more easily through me these days too, and this is definitely a result of the dagger.  I can feel the magic thrum within my body just by holding the dagger…before I was always a little fearful of my talent…now?  I crave more…like a man in the desert craves water.

I’m not sure how much help Nimorzan will be, but he does have an exciting Library.  Offering to help him learn how to read seems like a fair enough exchange, simply allowing me access to his books.  Experience seems to be the best teacher anyway.  I see now why my brother enters into melee with such merry abandon. There is this rush of adrenaline, and then the magic takes over…and it is like everything slows down and you’re watching the battlefield with a bird’s eye view, taking it all in, each sword thrust, each bow shot, each battle cry…and then magic explodes from you!  And it is…awesome!

The next thing you know is you are almost spent, drained, but tingling with the residuals of battle magics, surrounded by swamp goblins or troll flesh.  And you just know, the magic did that…I did that! 

Well, it’s early to bed tonight.  The first reading lesson has tapped the last of my reserves and I’m tired from the journey.


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## PHDungeon (Mar 7, 2010)

Bella's journal from Session #12.

Session 12 – Thief of Shadows

I seem to have been infected with the foolishness of an Androsax!! The Thief of Shadows came close to taking me today and all because of my bloodlust.  It makes me wonder if I shouldn’t tell my companions of my true nature.  We are growing in power and if we do not have the ability now we will soon be able to even call back the dead.  What would they think if I were to fall and revert back to my true form?  Would they even bring me back?  If my identity were compromised like that…would I want them to?  It is much to think about, but I will leave it for another time.

A relatively small orc raiding party made an assault on the city and awoke Deryl and I from our slumber.  We had separated from the party and were staying at Master Nimorzan’s Tower.  We hurriedly…well I hurriedly, prepared for battle (Deryl not needing armor or anything didn’t have to) and we rushed out to cut a dangerous path across the city to the inn where our companions were staying.

To my surprise and alarm I realized that I partially understood the warcries of the orcs.  It was not only them, I find that the strange tongue that the humans use and the Draconic used in many arcane texts is also being translated by a whisper in my mind that uses my own voice.

When we arrived, the inn was under siege, as was much of high town.  I rushed to get a good vantage point on the raiding party and am ashamed to admit, semi-abandoned Deryl to her fate.  Looking back I found her surrounded, I did my best to take down her foes but none of my bolts found their mark.  I was relieved that, as I have come to expect, the girl could take care of herself.  She dispatched her enemies with haste then with a desperate glance around, most likely looking for me, took to air and landed on the roof of the inn.

I spent the remainder of the fight running and taking shots when I could.  I found Bjorn had fallen and could see that he was bleeding to death.  Unfortunately a group of lowly foot soldiers ambushed me just as I was going to help him.  I dealt with them quickly and rushed back to his side.  I was just in time to administer a healing potion calling back my companion from the brink of death.

The orcs were using a Hill Giant to stop re-enforcements from climbing up the escarpment stairs from Lowtown. I put several bolts in the thing that caused it great pain and hampered its ability to move, though it was still quite competent at rock hurling. Darren was stupid enough to engage it melee, and suffered a couple of nasty blows from its great club. However, we eventually brought down our first giant with no casualties, and the dwarven mercenaries from Low Town were able to join us. We then learned that the temple of Thor was being burned down and Bjorn rushed off to their aid.  We had no choice but to follow.

It was here where I acted rashly and it almost cost me my life.  Deryl was able to get me onto the roof of the Church where I found I could pick and choose targets with little threat of retaliation.  My mark was the standard bearer, if he fell the moral of the orcs would waver and perhaps they would retreat.  After I had harried him with many bolts he retreated from my gaze into the church.  I was enraged and could only think of my reputation:  No one escapes me.  With that thought in mind I leapt off the roof landing gracefully on the ground and letting loose the killing bolt into the standard bearer’s head.

Unfortunately, I did not have much time to celebrate my victory.  Enraged by my success the orc chieftain charged from the doorway, and I suffered the full force of his wrath.  The last thing I witnessed before letting the darkness take me was his spiked shield slamming into my face dropping me to the ground, and his cry of triumph at taking his revenge.  Fortunately, Bjorn was able to get to me and I awoke to find his concerned face looking down on me.

In the time I was incapacitated the battlefield had altered drastically.  An iron dragon had joined our fight against the orcs and was engaged in full battle with my assailant.  Their standard bearer dead, their leader surrounded and facing a dragon, the orcs moral finally broke.  They scattered and abandoned their chieftain to his fate.  The chieftain fought to the last, but being outnumbered it was a futile effort and it did not take long before he fell.

The Iron Dragon has landed a little ways off and seems to seek an audience.  It is not wise to be involved in the affairs of a dragon, but we have little choice in the matter.  Hopefully, whatever it has to say will bode well for us.


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## PHDungeon (Mar 7, 2010)

Dear Diary,

I had no time for dreams last night; the city was roused by orc attack and reality quickly turned into a nightmare.  I admit that I am bone tired but all things considered I am mostly unscathed from the night’s misadventures.  There are many wounded and many more dead but the city defenses hold for now…if rumours be true all this is the result of but one orc clan.  

What will we do with the hundreds gathering yet?

I am concerned for Derren; his mind really wasn’t in the battle and he came closer to death than I care to think about.  He is paler now than Mama’s best linens; mooning over that librarian I suppose.  She’ll mourn him little, I expect, should he get himself killed here in Fallcrest.

I admit a bit of distraction too; I was tremendously curious to see ‘the wizard’ in action but we were too quickly pulled into the thick of things.  

The orcs have aligned with the trolls and hill giants; what the forces lack in intelligence they make up for in brute force.  I’m convinced though that there is a fourth faction somewhere spearheading these attacks.  The initial troll attack, swimming in to penetrate deeper into high-town, was tactically sound and quiet unexpected.  

Bella and I made our way back to the Inn but soon found ourselves just outside the periphery of a larger orc force bolstered by one of the hill giants.  I immediately thought to get Bella and I onto the roof of the Inn; offering us a better vantage point.  She was fleeter of foot than I thought; we were separated and set upon by orcs.  So caught up in the battle scene around us we were completely unaware that our three companions were already in the thick of things around front; they facing off against more orcs and a troll.

I don’t have the same battle lust as Derren or Bjorn but thanks to my magic I’ve so far been able to hold my own.  I admit that last night I lost track of the number of orcs we felled, so great were their numbers.  

Still it wasn’t long before the battle momentum brought us together to face of against the hill giant.  By this time I had made it to the roof.  The scene below was not a pretty one.   Bella and Bjorn were down at different times and Torfin was hard pressed.  Still we managed to regain our footing and coordinate to fell the beast and the last of the orcs.  

This was but one of many battles though.  The cityscape was choked with smoke and the air was thick with the smell of burnt wood and flesh.

We had little time to rest; the orc Standard was in full sight just north of our location.  We hazarded its location to be near Thor’s Temple.  Indeed the street corridor around the temple was congested with orcs and the temple had already been penetrated by enemy forces.  By the time we arrived, the Dwarven forces had joined the fray, and at Bjorn’s command we were able to focus on the temple.

The orcs here were in full battle frenzy, and stronger for it.  I again took to the roof with Bella.  Things were unfolding well until Bella took to mind that she would fell the banner carrier; a good idea and flawless execution.  However, it enraged the orc chieftan, hidden from view in the temple itself.  Bella is brilliant with a bow, but she fell quickly to the Chief’s furious onslaught of attacks.  

Bjorn and Derren were by this time surrounded by beserkers; Derren seemed to be in bad shape; he was terribly unfocused and his sword arm was sluggish.  I feared the worst when I lost sight of him as he fell to a swarm of attacks.  Torfin too, was having difficulty and eventually began a fighting retreat.

We were slower to regain our footing but fortunately the gods were with us; quite literally.  Our meager force was bolstered by the appearance of an iron dragon who squared off against the orc chief.  Let me tell you, that chief dished out a lot of hurt to that dragon, but ultimately fell against superior force.

I’m in awe of the dragon and hope we can encounter it again, if only to say ‘thank you’.  Our more immediate attention went to reviving our fallen comrades.  We separated again to scout out the city’s security.  

And here I am, exhausted…Bella is already snoring.


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## PHDungeon (Mar 10, 2010)

A journal from Bella regarding game session #13

The meeting with the iron dragon went well, but had nothing to do with us.  She had been forced out of her home by a rival red dragon named Rathnir, and was now using a nearby silver mine for her lair.  She was making a deal with Fallcrest for tribute and protection.  Seeing as they were besieged by orc tribes Lord Malkahay had little choice but to accept and was lucky the dragon offered such a fair deal.

One dragon alone could not defeat the massive hoard outside, that apparently was our job. 

Their plan was stupid and would only get me killed.

Let me break it down.  My companions expected to sneak into the camp of thousands of Orcs, stealth (seriously, they expected to be stealthy) their way to the chieftain’s longhouse, kill the leader of the Blood Spear tribe (the one who had gathered this massive force), and then tip toe out with no one being the wiser.

This was their plan as presented to Lord Malkahay, and they told him that we would discuss it.  My recent brush with death weighing heavily on my mind and seeing the suicide mission before me, I felt I had little choice.  I revealed myself to my companions.  Most had not even heard of changelings, my race merely a rumour.  I showed them what I was capable of, becoming a female orc before their eyes, my top stretching against the added girth.  They accepted the revelation faster than expected.  My only concern is Derren.  Deryl and Bjorn are sensible and Torfinn is silent as a grave.  If the Androsax lordling reveals my secret to anyone I will have to kill him.

My magical mark appears to be more of a boon then a bane.  I awoke this morning fluent in several languages, including the rough language of the orcs.  I also was struck with an epiphany and suddenly the rituals in Flagg’s book made complete sense to me.  Any time I alter shape it remains on my back, marking me, a curse to any changeling but it may be worth the price.  The mark may have figured heavily in my decision to reveal myself.

My ability to alter shape has always been rather useless without being able to prepare ahead of time, something that is lacking in our little group.  My body is the only thing I can alter and without the clothes of my twin I would be easily spotted as a fake.  I also do not receive any special abilities of the race that I impersonate; the orcs’ darkvision would be a prime example.  One of the largest problems though is in communication.  I have never had a command of languages and being a mute of any race only draws attention.  Finally, I could start using my shape changing as a more potent tool.

It is said that there was a dwarven Lord General that had magical chainmail forged for him that could become any set of clothing he wished.  It would have been useful for me, but I can only wear leather armor with confidence.  Apparently, only a heavy metal can sustain the magical lattice necessary for sub-structural change.  Smokingbeard, my dwarven forgemaster back in Grimsburg, described the process to me in excrutiating detail long ago.  Unfortunately, my powers were in their infancy, and I was not able to grasp the basic principles.  Now looking back upon my notes I understand, and given my own innate understanding of morphic fields when applied to living matter, I just may be able to apply the magic to my own leather armor. It is a project I intend to dedicate myself to in earnest this coming month.

I acquired the stinking armor off the corpse of an orc and assumed his shape.  My own companions disguises were basic, but given the orcs reputation for laziness they would all be focused on me and therefore allow us to pass.  Our plan was simple.  Bluff our way into the command center as members of the Roteye tribe that had raided the city, once we had gained an audience with the commander, lock the door behind us and attack.

Approaching the gate to the palisade, I appeared more confident then I felt.  We were surrounded by thousands of orcs, if anything went wrong we were dead.  The guards at the gate questioned us. We had Deryl in a sack, and I showed her to them saying that she was a tribute for the chief. My acting was not at its best, but after a few jabs from the orcs at the failure of the Roteyes we were allowed an audience. Fortunately, Thor had blessed us with a great storm, and they didn’t have much interest from the shelter of the eaves to give us a close inspection.

We were led by a single orc to a longhouse in the center of steading where inside the sound of guttural laughter and merry making issued.  When I crested the threshold my eyes watered, and I had to choke back the bile that rose in my throat, the smell of unwashed bodies was unbearable.  I disguised my disgust and shock at seeing the leader of the orc army, sitting back in his throne, his pants down and some orcish whore’s mouth busily working away on him right in front of his followers.

Upon seeing us, he waved the women away and covered his “zug, zug” with his quilt, much to my relief.  He demanded to see my tribute, and I was only too glad to show him, eager to finish this one way or another.  I waved Bjorn forward, and he placed Deryl upon the table and removed the sack.

That was the signal. With a wave of her hand the sorceress and I were whisked up into the air and among the rafters.  I unleashed a bolt from my crossbow at the commander. I aimed my bolt carefully to ensure that I would no longer have to suffer any more carnal displays.  He howled in pain and rage just as Torfinn was able to place the bar upon the door and lock us in.

It was a hard fight, but that is only to be expected as we were trapped in there with some of the army’s greatest warriors.  At one point one of them managed to catch me with a wine cask and knocked me from my perch.  I scrambled across the floor, orcs pressing in on me, their cruel blades digging into my flesh.  Every time I killed one another would take his place, but with desperate glances I could see their number was dwindling, we were going to win.  When I had one last assailant I ended up near Derren, who was able to pull him off of me.  Looking past him, I could see that one orc had thought to try and open the door to bring in re-enforcements. Luckily, Deryl and I were able to execute him before he was able to execute his plan.

In the end we were victorious.  The only problem left was getting out of there.

I quickly ran over to the orc chief and began stripping off his clothes.  While I changed my companions searched the longhouse, using my bag of holding to take as many treasures as possible.  When all was ready I threw open the doors to the long house and gathered the entire garrison around me, impersonating their leader.  They were afraid of my wrath, and I screamed in outrage at the attempt upon my life by the Roteyes and commanded them to seek out the Roteyes and kill them all for this insult.  A few questioned these orders but a single strike was enough to silence them and send them scurrying out into the camp.

All that was left was calling down our Iron Dragon ally to make a distraction and leave us alone to make our escape.  We beheaded the orc chief and gave it to the dragon to drop among his army once we were far enough away.

And yet we did not escape.

Deryl had heard that prisoners were being held in one of the buildings somehow and wished to free them.  I was sure that the little girl was going to doom us.  Both Bjorn and Derren wanted to rescue the prisoners but could not see how we could do so without becoming prisoners ourselves, but Deryl had a plan.

We climbed the wall on the river side of the palisade that did not face the orc camp and used the ladders to provide an easy way to get out.  While the rest of us made for the boat, both Derren and Deryl helped the prisoners across the river (forcing them to swim or use pieces of wood to float). They then set about making their way on foot back to Fallcrest. I left them to their fate, their altruism would get them killed one day.

When most of us were away, the dragon dropped his grisly war trophy. It had the affect we wished. The orcs turned on eachother, as the different factions and tribes attempted to assume command. By morning many of the orcs had abandoned the siege and those who remained were still fighting amongst themselves.  It was easy for the militia of Fallcrest and the dwarves from Hammerfast to send them running.

Lord Malkahay was ecstatic; we were welcomed back as heroes.  I did not join the festivities but instead I made my way to Master Nimorzan’s tower.  Finally I believed I was ready to cast a ritual, I had much work to do though I lacked the resources.


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## PHDungeon (Mar 15, 2010)

A journal from Darren regarding events of game sessions 12 and 13

Dear Corvin,

Since I last wrote, we successfully defended Fallcrest form an orc raid, and then struck the viper in the eye, causing their planned invasion to fall apart. 
The raid was brutal, and we were divided for a while. I managed to help take down my second troll, and must say I am developing quite a knack for it. Only this time, I knew better than to fight near its hungry maw – instead, I clung to its backside like an overgrown – and handsome, might I add – stirge. Eventually, our party drove the orcs and their giant and troll allies back to the gate. The night was ours!

We parlayed with Kasinth, the first dragon I have had the shock and awe to meet. She seemed calculating, intelligent and was sizing us up all the time. A little like Bella, come to think of it. And while she would kill me if she ever found out I told you, she has more in common with reptiles than just her personality. The girl possesses the abilities of a chameleon.

Anyway, the dragon has fled a more powerful red from the hills north, who in turn is cowed by the great white dragon Ullmir himself. I fear that the evil in the elemental temple of eyes and skulls is behind all this. I cannot wait to test my mettle against a dragon. “Wait”, Bjorn says. And I will listen, for now.

Deryl continues to grow in power at an alarming rate. Her dreams have worsened, and there is little I can do to stop it but pray: Rao, Thor, Odin – it matters not.

After the orc raid, we hatched a daring plan to assassinate their leader, a Bloodspear orc named Turash. Some scouting and Bella’s knack for deception brought us strait into his longhouse. We had to use Deryl as bait, but don’t worry, she was up in a safety of the rafters the moment the fighting began. Do I ever need to worry about Deryl? I think the world needs to worry about her. The fighting was a desperate, bloody mess, but in the end, I cut Turash’s throat and we claimed a spear so mighty that none of use dare to wield it. I may have to take up spear fighting, if only to plunge it down the throat of Rathnir, the red dragon over hill. 

Now – for some poetry and dire warnings for Briannah!

Your devoted brother,

Derren


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## PHDungeon (Mar 15, 2010)

This is Deryl's much more esoteric version of the events that took place during session 13.

….the room is filled with swirling banks of steam and heavily scented with eucalyptus.  Deryl languishes in the freshly drawn and heated bath…

“We’ll just wash that hair out, shall we, ma’amselle?”  Cheori, one of the housekeeping staff, asks without really waiting for an answer.  “Ah, but you’re so tense, you are!!  I say again you shouldn’t be out there, its just not right, pardon me for saying so, ma’amselle.”

“It’s okay, Cheori, you’re not the first to tell me, but its not so bad… really.”

Deryl leans forward and lets Cheori begin shampooing her hair.  Her body relaxes under the housekeeper’s ministrations but her mind is elsewhere…reliving the events of the night before.  Staring into the bath water is like staring into the mystical depths of a scrying pool…

She can see herself running ahead of the contingent of prisoners, wet with rain and sweat, stinking of battle grime.  It’s not Derren with her this time, but the ghostly form of the young man from her dreams, he is holding her hand and pacing her easily.  He smiles at her, pulling tight the stitches keeping his mouth closed.  His form disappears in the flash of a dragon’s wing and suddenly the iron wrymling settles before her.  

He slashes at her, rending her with his claws…no, not her, but Bella.  The image in the bath shifts and she is suddenly reliving the battle in the long house.

Bella, wearing her true form and not that of an orc, is cut down by one of the brutes.  Even as she falls though she is fitting another bolt into her crossbow, ready to fight even unto death.

To her right, Bjorn lays in a pool of his own blood with the Blood Spear Chief menacing above him.  His eyes stare lifelessly above him, but he is writing the line ‘Thor will not forsake me’ over and over in the blood, like a child under detention.

Four orcs, hands joined, dance around and around.  Blood spills from them too and they revel in it.  Derren is in the center crying out “Am I not a good enough dancer Brianna?”  He is laughing and smiling as if unaware of his many wounds.

Torfin’s image enters the far corner of the pool’s image.  “Shall we dance” he says and lightening jumps from his one hand to the next.  Another four orcs accept his invitation and the five take up a bloody Tarantelle.

She sees herself, balanced on the rafter crying out in the arcane tongue.  Her hand becomes sheathed in chaotic energy.  It burns away the bloody scene below as if it were a storybook illustration…only to replace it with another.

Bella is below her now, a trail of orc bodies in her wake, pierced with bolts.  Her form shifts settling on the form of Starke before anchoring back to that of an orc.

Bjorn lies still in a pool of blood, this time by the door.  He raises his hammer to the sky and calls upon Thor.  Suddenly he is standing, bathed in light and four orcs lay lifeless in front of him.

Derren twirls across the battlefield. “For honor, For Androsax” he cries striking the orc chieftan.  The Blood Spear chief is barely moving now, with five of its six strings severed…a marionette only.

On the corpses of four bloodied orcs Torfin continues his bloody Tarantelle, but no lightning dances on his fingertips.

 Deryl sees herself in the rafters, the nameless man is in front of her again, smiling.  The stitches are gone this time, “Run,” he says.

And she is running, again, leading the prisoners back to Fallcrest…

“God’s above, ma’amselle, but how can you be shivering in such a hot both.  Lean back now and relax.  I’ll fetch some more hot water.”  

And like that the image in the bath water disappears.


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## PHDungeon (Mar 25, 2010)

Torfinn’s Quiet Reflections...

*Stargazing at Odin’s sacked temple in Fallcrest*
Why is it that I find such comfort in the night sky? That great darkness filled with a horde of distant treasures that none chained to this world can touch or defile gives me an overwhelming sense of….clarity. In-truth, I spent most of my time in Thorsted Monastery stargazing. It was peaceful at Thorsted, nestled in the plain-lands of Uppsala; I could lay in the thick grass for hours and gaze up at the rolling clouds to my heart‘s content.

Odd…I can almost hear the half-blind Rooster that woke me every morning by tapping his beak upon my window. I always found it ’troublesome’ that the devious beast chose to wake me a good hour before he began his crowing. Ahh yes, I would then walk to my favourite spot on top the rolling grass-land and lay amidst the morning dew. I wonder what I used to think about?… Perhaps nothing…

Often I wouldn’t budge until the aroma of breakfast wafted my way. Hmm…Although Lady Maja was a devotee of Freyja and bested many of the lads during martial training, she cooked a delicious porridge. Now that I think harder on the subject of Lady Maja, she would wink and give me an extra large serving when my turn in line arrived; I still don’t quite understand the ritual, but the lads behind would often smirk and snicker.

After breakfast I used to spend some of the afternoon hours in the library with Master Flojnir, the Prophet of Odin. It was easy for me to lose myself in the old parchment and tablets that lay about the dank chamber. I can still recall the earthy smell that rose up from the between the stacks; However….Master Flojnir was a ’strange’ old man wasn’t he…? He would constantly stare at me with an….all-knowing expression. I always wondered what secrets he really knew? He’d occasionally give me cryptic advice when he had the words to spare. I once overheard his pupils using the nickname “Devourer of Mysteries” behind his back, perhaps he thought I was a mystery to be devoured?….Interesting….

One could hardly have any peace during the daily melee. Shouts, hoots and jeers echoed across Thorsted followed by the thunder of practice weapons colliding mercilessly; it was an entertaining spectacle to say the least.  Bjorn would try to drag me into combat on occasion, but I didn’t quite have the energy to keep up with the young enthusiastic lads. It’s a surreal sensation watching the fruits of Bjorn’s hard training pay off on the battlefield. The starry-eyed, adventurer seeking child has grown into a man. Perhaps not in physical appearance, but it isn’t hard to see the power he now exhibits.

I wonder why I think of Thorsted now…? Perhaps the shell of this former temple to Odin in Fallcrest is making me the sentimental fool. 

Hmm…it’s more then a little unsettling to see with my own eyes just how much Bjorn, Darren, Deryl and Bella have grown. Some of them have become wiser, some stronger but they’ve all magnificently matured in their own way. Isn’t that a mortifying thought? The people that surround me change…yet I remain the same…I appeared in a vicious thunderstorm many years ago with no memories, or identity save the name ‘Torfinn‘.  I didn’t train or go through the typical studies of a devotee; I simply knew things by instinct. Although my mind is still filled with an overwhelming darkness, I suppose there is hope in the fragments of knowledge I regain.

I wonder if that makes me as talented as people think me to be….or does that make me dreadfully boring? I wake up and remember ancient spells and languages that I’ve never even heard of before….I’d be frightened if I wasn’t so intrigued. 

I guess one can hardly seem boring when they’ve unwillingly been dubbed ‘The Lightning-man’, who would’ve been able to predict that Orc berserker’s dying words would’ve caught on. It’s troublesome not to be able to move around town without a drunkard yelling, ‘Lightning-man’…..
Still, it’s nice to be distracted from darker thoughts…even if it’s for a brief moment…


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## PHDungeon (Mar 25, 2010)

A journal from Darren Androsax regarding the events of game session #14

Dear Corvin,

Life in the Vale is always an adventure. I write from the light of a cracked lantern under a tree – hopelessly drunk and a little defeated. I have been wandering around town for hours, following an exploration of the crypts below Kamroth’s manor and the strange happenings of the Equinox festival.

As you recall, our little sister is doing her best to be grown up. She found the deed to the Kamroth estate, and has been busy making house. She has great ideas about turning the place into an Inn & Tavern, but is refusing to let me get involved. Every time I try to do my part as her older brother, she flashes me with those cold dead eyes. She plays with that dagger she found in our estate in Grimsburg day and night. She sleeps in the sorcerer’s tower. She even parlayed with Kasinth the dragon on her own.

We found a secret room leading to an old crypt below the Kamroth estate – narrow, musty rooms filled with stone tombs centuries old. One room was dedicated to the worship of Asmodeus, something we suspected since finding Kamroth’s body. We discovered tapestries of our house, as well as the families Kalton, Dragonspear, Nethmar, Shandroth, Gauthmal, Valkrev and even the local lord Sheldon’s line. It looks like the Kamrtoh line took to worship Asmodeus some time in the last few decades – as most of the older tombs honoured the Skanzi gods.  We even found a walled off section that we plan on exploring once we reconsecrate the grounds and unobtrusively dispose of the remaining corpses.

While exploring the crypts, we came across an imp named Tyrus, who mistook us for worshippers. I managed to draw some strange information from him before Torfinn blasted him with lightning. The imp claimed that St. Aurieluous Androsax himself once worshipped the Prince of Hell, as well as Crozin Androsax “and many others.” I find this hard to believe – but the more I see of Deryl’s power, the more I worry that our house is truly cursed. Did we really leave the Vale because of the Bloodspear war, as father claims – or were there more reasons, besides?

As the imp stole off behind a narrow passage, we were ambushed by Asmodean undead, risen from scattered tombs. Torfinn was caught by a foul thing’s blasts of hellfire, and Bella spent most of the fight trying to extinguish her robes. We were blessed in that dark place by Bjorn’s hammer, and his holiness shielded us. The man was furious, destroying what Asmodean stonecraft he could between blows meant for the red-robed wights. Torfinn called upon the Valkyries, who blessed us with pale blue light. I leapt between a score of them (dm note- it was more like 3 or 4 undead that he darted amongst), while  Tyrus attempted to sting me repeatedly with his tale. Half believing his stories,  I dreaded seeing the undead remnants of a forbearer, Corvin. In the end we felled the undead and cleansed the crypts. Unfortunately, the imp managed to escape. We will have to keep a close out out for him, as I'm sure he will seek vengeance. 

And for all this, the strangest happenings occurred at the Equinox festival. We sat at Markelhay’s table along with Lord Sheldon and sundry others. Deryl and I managed to ensnare him in our attempts to draw out the Asmodeans in Fallcrest; Farin the cooper and Kelson the tavern owner being among our suspects (though they were not dining at Markelhay's table with us).  Kasinth the dragon was in attendance, along with her kobold sycophants. All seemed more or less well until Sigurd Ironballs himself showed up: legendary giant slayer and the man who lost our Androsax sword to Ragnar in a drinking contest. The same man who now claimed to have defeated the very dragon in our midst! If keeping the two of them apart weren’t challenging enough for us, Torfinn began a strange transformation. Even Deryl was wincing in pain. Poor Torfinn was sheathed in ever-growing fire, while his countenance took on a reptilian cast. He quickly ran from the room, Bjorn and Bella in pursuit. Could it be true, what the Church of Rao says about magic? That it corrupts us with the spirit of the serpent? What of the prophecies, Loki’s dark presence and the end of all times? What made the priests of Thor so sure that Torfinn, the foundling in the storm was a son of Odin?

The golden skulls have nearly all been released upon the world. Rumbling can be felt to the south west, where the remains of the Temple of the Elemental Eye stand, and a dark presence lingers. Trolls are on the rise across the Haunt, east of Moonstair. Frost giants and an Ice dragon from the sagas are rumoured to be gathering far to the northwest. And a god walks among the people of Rao to the south. Perhaps there is more than one god who walks among us?

And here I am, excited about rumours from Sigurd that our lost manor can be found north where the Nentir meets the Winter. Sigurd bested me in a wrestling match, and for that, I lost my new bracers. Deryl won’t let me back home. The dogs lick at me, for I am besotted with mutton grease. I am a wretch, and the world will one day pass me by, dousing the weak flame of this all too mortal frame.  

Your brother,

Derren


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## PHDungeon (Mar 27, 2010)

Bella crafts a suite of Impostors armor...

I tighten the final strap on my armor and walk up to the mirror eying it critically.  Deryl sits on my bed idly playing with her dagger having asked me to help her study it and it’s unique properties.  I agreed if only because it bears the mark on my back as well as the mark that has suddenly appeared on her wrist.  For a moment I wonder if this is some kind of contagion among sorceress’, something carried by Deryl’s dagger but dismiss the thought, this is not the time for conjecture.

“Let’s see if this works”, I say more to myself than to her.  Upon finding the components and residuum in Nimorzan’s study I had been elated.  Before Deryl arrived I had spent the day meticulously copying the ritual from Flagg’s ritual book into my own, my first ritual incidentally.  After that I had laid out my leather armor and began the process of applying the magical lattice to the material with a few modifications of my own.  I felt a smug sense of satisfaction when the lattice held.

It was then I noticed the state I was in.  So focused upon my work I had not looked in a mirror.  Cobwebs caught in my hair, my body covered in dust, and my face and hands smeared with ink.  I forced myself to take a bath before testing the new armor.  It was during my bath that Lazlo loudly announced the arrival of Lady Androsax, I wonder if she had told him to call her that or if he had done it on his own.

Now we arrive at the moment of truth.

Concentrating I turn my armor into a stunning red dress.  I make it backless to show off my mark and twirl in front of the mirror.  I am pleased to hear Deryl gasp at the change.  Quickly I change the dress to the clothes of a nobleman and my form to that of Deryl’s own brother.  I stumble and make stupid faces in front of the mirror repeating some of Derren’s more famous attempts at diplomacy.  In another moment I am a beggar with simple pant and tunic, then Bjorn in pious robes, Starke in his noble guise, a simple dwarven blacksmith and finally myself once again in my leather armor.  I eye it critically then smile to Deryl.

“What do you think of my first creation little sister?”


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## PHDungeon (Apr 1, 2010)

A rare journal from the perspective of Torfinn.

This journal is mainly flavor and doesn't cover any events that happened during our previous game session.

Torfinn and Absalon (Torfinn's newly acquired steed).

Torfinn’s eyes stayed locked on the over-cast sky above as he marched through the castle followed by Lord Markelhay’s short and chubby attendant, Brun. The ground was muddy and the air was thick with warning signs of an oncoming storm. Brun had tried to engage the silent man with idle pleasantries, but Torfinn didn’t have much to say other than the customary greeting.

“Here we are Master Torfinn” , Brun said nervously. “Lord Markelhay had wished to be present for your visit, but he’s been very busy since the Orc attacks. Our Lord  thanks you for the generous banner commission and bids you the best of luck in your selection. Please this way.”

Torfinn felt a tinge of trepidation as the panicked screams thundered out from the stables. Slowly he made he made his way inside, peering anxiously at the horses that surrounded him. For some reason, animals feared him instinctively; it was an odd-phenomena. The sudden kick of a frightened burgundy hunter stole Torfinn from his thought. He quickly ducked and stepped back with an audible sigh. “I don’t get along well with animals as you can see..” he mumbled in-between heavy breaths.

Brun heard Torfinn say as much before, but this was a little more severe than he had expected. In truth, he never witnessed the animals so spooked, perhaps ‘The rumoured Lightning-man’ was more than just fancy talk. He didn’t want to think about the consequences of not finding Torfinn a steed, Markhelhay’s instructions were explicit. “Master Torfinn…?”

Torfinn continued to walk down the path that divided the roofed structure in two with horse pens on either side. Half of the pens at the back were vacant, save one. A black-shape stirred in the last pen, it didn’t seem to take on the frenzied wailing of the other beasts. It simply watched as the tall man approached with narrowed eyes.

Brun squealed in alarm, “Master Torfinn…!” but Torfinn was already stretching his arm out to the horse’s head.

“Master Torfinn…!!!” Brun screamed so loud his chubby cheeks wobbled.

Torfinn turned to look at Brun when a jolt of pain shot down his arm, he snapped his head back at the black-steed to see his fore-arm locked between it’s teeth. “Damned thing” he mumbled before saying a word of power that activated a static surge; it was only a little shock but it did the trick in getting his arm free.

The black horse stomped his hoof on the ground with a derisive snort. Eyeing the man with even more contempt.

Brun doubled over twice in apology, “I’m so sorry Master Torfinn!”

Torfinn shrugged, “I’ll take him.”

It was hard for Brun not to yelp in surprise, “WHAT? That spiteful bastard!!!?” 

Torfinn smiled while eyeing the creature, “Aye, I can work with spite.”


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## PHDungeon (Apr 1, 2010)

A song written by Deryl's player that is circulating the taverns of Fallcrest in refrence to her brother Derren.

Beware the man o’ Androsax

Beware the man o’ Androsax,
Who’s agile ankled and deft o’ sword.
Hist’ry made of him a lord?
Oh beware the man o’ Androsax.

Beware the man o’ Androsax,
Who’s sharp of tongue but dull of wit,
But lately weaned from mother’s .
Oh beware the man o’ Androsax.

Beware the man o’ Androsax,
Tho’ stout of heart, tho’ strong and hale.
The poor man can no’ hold his ale.
So beware the man o’ Androsax

Beware the man o’ Androsax,
Who’s beastial-bent perverts the night.
He’s seeded maids and trolls alike.
So beware the man o’ Androsax.

Beware the man o’ Androsax,
Who’s plundered orcs and shown no fear,
Just, it’s said, to bloody his spear.
So beware the man o’ Androsax

Beware the man o’ Androsax,
Who wrestles all be-lathered in grease
Wanton of his opponent’s ‘creese’.
So beware the man of Androsax.

Beware the man o’ Androsax,
Who acts the fool and thinks it brave,
He’s sure to find an early grave.
So beware the man o’ Androsax.


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## PHDungeon (Apr 4, 2010)

This is a lengthy journal from Derren Androsax detailing the events of our most recent session.

The PCs:

Derren: level 7 human male fighter
Bjorn: level 7 human male cleric of Thor
Bella: level 7 changeling rogue/sorcerer
Deryl: level 6 human female sorcerer (wild magic)
Torfinn: level 6 deva male Invoker

Dear Corvin,

This morning, Bjorn and I finally cracked open the wall leading to deeper caverns below Kamroth manor. We set out to explore several large caverns, haunted by wheels of the dead, suspended like the windmills and scarecrows of some forgotten tribe of primitives. Fortunately, these dead were resting peacefully, which seems all too often not to be the case in this world.

We finally came across a chamber rife with pools of black “water” – the same foul, putrescent flow of evil that we first witnessed outside of the Temple of the Elemental Eye deep in the Ogrefist Hills. It had cracked the walls from some unknown source, surrounding a stone dais in the center of the room like a moat. The dais itself was laden with a heaping mound of skulls. Yet before we could investigate or form a solid plan, ghoulish creatures were upon us. Some rose up from the apparently shallow pools dripping with the foul black liquid. They began hurling ichorous, necrotic filth from the pools. Others loped towards us in their deranged shuffling gate. As Torfinn blasted them with lightning and Bella dropped one with her bolt, I leapt onto the dais to occupy several of the ghouls. Bjorn and Torfinn called on the Skanzi gods to drive them back, while Deryl managed to keep several ambushers at bay with her spells. I nearly died when one of them slivered me with its filthy nails. The gash turned grey on my skin, and in a wash of chill and nausea, I darkened. Then my friends – forgiving me my brashness, I think – hurled spell and bolt upon my enemies, and I managed to recover my senses and roll away. By this time my allies had vastly thinned out the ranks of our enemies, and it didn’t take long to slay the remaining horrors. When the battle ended I realized that I wasn’t the only one who had suffered. Even Deryl, who normally does a good job of staying out of harm’s way, had been scathed by the undead. We took some time to rest, and Bjorn used his divine healing powers to help us tend our wounds.

With the undead dispatched, we began a more thorough investigation of the cave. Each of the skulls that had been sitting on the dais had a glyph etched into its forehead. According to Deryl there was no magic in the skulls, so I started handling them. Many had the symbol of the elemental eye, but we discovered a number of skulls with other strange symbols: a barbed spiral, and several inverted letters. While I was examining the skulls, I noted that there was a stone trap door set into the dais. We moved the skulls out of the way to fully reveal the portal, and we discovered it was circular, constructed of stone and some ten feet in diameter. It would take great strength to move, but I was confident that I could do it with Bjorn’s aid. However, we decided to post pone this endeavour, for there was still more to investigate above. 

At the far end of the room was a ten foot wide passage that had clearly been carved into the wall of the otherwise natural cavern. Set in small alcoves above the tunnel’s entrance, were three more golden skulls – of animals this time. However, unlike the other golden skulls we’d discovered in our previous adventures, these one’s were not magical. The hallway was quite long, and its walls were etched with dozens of glyphs, similar to the ones that we’d encountered on the skulls, but there were others as well, all unholy. The end of the hall opened up into another chamber that the light from our sunrods could only just begin to illuminate. The symbols in the hall made me more than a little uneasy. They were clearly blasphemous. Still, Bjorn and I pressed forward. We didn’t make it far before the glyphs began to glow. One of them erupted in a blast of fire, but Bjorn’s shield Flamedrinker protected the two of us from much of the flame. I retreated back to my companions, while Bjorn remained behind; I presume he wanted to see if he could determine a means of dealing with the glyphs. I watched as more of them activated. Bella and Deryl were also watching closely. They had quickly determined that there were six different types of glyphs and each one had a different effect. Lightning, acid and fire were all seen hurled at Bjorn, but he was alert now, and did his best to dodge the effects, using his shield whenever possible to deflect the attacks. Torfinn and I decided to make a run for the far room, and we bolted down the hallway. Another glyph assaulted me, and Torfinn was scorched by acid, but we made it to the far chamber. Bjorn hurried after us, leaving Bella and Deryl to stand at the entrance of the hall and watch us. 

The three of us had entered into a secluded chamber. Dominating much of the floor space was some huge vaguely manlike form that was completely cocooned in the black ichor, which had here hardened into solid form. The source of the ichor appeared to be several dark stones that sat on the ground forming a circle around the unsettling form. Each of the stones had a single rune inscribed on it, and it was either the elemental eye or the barbed spiral. A part of me very much wanted to pick up one of the stones, but even I could sense that they thrummed with magic, and it appeared that they were part of some ancient ritual. Bjorn suspected that their purpose might be to bind whatever entity might be lurking under the hardened ichor. 

The chamber itself was constructed in the shape great silo, and its walls were riddled with burial nooks that held dozens of ancient skeletal corpses. We had little time to take all this in before we discovered that this crypt was haunted by vile wraiths. They came at flying at us, trying to drain us of our life force. Each attack would cause me to feel so weak I could barely stand or swing my sword. I was thankful that my blade was enchanted, but it was still relatively ineffectual, for it would just pass through the vile creatures, causing them minimal real harm. There were five wraiths in total, and two of them were different from the other three. These two were constantly gibbering maddening whispers that burned at my mind and threatened to make me go mad. With lures and feints and more divine power, Torfinn and Bjorn were able to cast the wraiths back into hell. Bella and Deryl stayed back blasting them from a distance, and even I was able to meekly cut through their forms from time to time. Soon our foes had been destroyed thanks in no small part to the radiant powers that Torfinn and Bjorn had been able to muster.

We debated about what to do about the entity on the floor– and wisely, I think, thought to leave it undisturbed and possibly return in the future if we could gather more information. There is still the deeper chamber, and strange evidence of the work of elemental creatures, titans and their primordial masters – but we have yet to fully explore the deeper levels.

These events leave me riddled with questions and strange desires. The most pressing mystery is that of Torfinn. While Bella wants to run shop, and Deryl play house, our friend with the golden skin seems tied to the fate of the world. Bjorn is content to smash evil and infidelity with his hammer wherever, whenever, yet his charge is full of stranger destinies. Blackness pollutes the land. An ancient god tied to the elemental chaos, the abyss and the purest evil seems to be stirring up the primordials and their servants. Like a cascade of fell fury, primordials push titans to stir dragons to whip orcs upon our heels. Gods walk the earth and slink their blades in the fates of men.  Rao sings to me, yet my heart is with the Skanzi gods. Asmodeans run amuck even as far as Fallcrest, and the man who would rule the vale must sleep in the pig pen for some unremembered folly on the battlefield.

These are interesting times. 

Your brother,

 Derren


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## PHDungeon (Apr 8, 2010)

Derren's player was away for our most recent session, so we had Derren take a trip to Grimsburg to go pay a visit to his beaux Briannah Sutursdottr (High Archavist of Skaldsholme library). This is his journal.

Dear Deryl,

Hope you are well. Mother and father are in good health, and the gold and enchanted armour I brought back from the Vale have eased our debts. Yargo seemed especially pleased with the hide, and I hope the gold reaches Strake soon enough.

Mother was upset that you were left behind in the vale, but I concocted some tale about Bella being a former chaperon to one of the Sturgleson daughters, and she seemed relieved. Corvin remembered Bella’s attitude and concluded that you were in good, if somewhat stern, measured and staid hands!

I am writing to request that you allow myself and an acquaintance a room in the new Inn. Somewhere out of sight that she can conduct more shadowy research. I think you can imagine who I mean. Things have gotten dangerous for her in Grimsburg, as she has stumbled upon some important research concerning the Elemental Eye.

Let me know if a room could be drawn. I am happy to pay for it, and understand if you would rather me spend another night in the barn.

Your brother,

Derren

From A Brief and Annotated History of Grimsburg and Environs, by Geron the Prodifigent, 877

... and while Derren was not to be instrumental in preventing calamity to the same degree as his companions, it is argued by many sages that his work in Grimsburg, most notably the ‘Declaration & Proclamation’, was to give the future heroes an edge in preventing the great sundering of the North ... Had Derren been prevented from nailing his decree to the doors of Skaldsholme, the Scarlet Stone Academy and the Temples of Odin and Rao, not to mention spending a small fortune mailing it to various rulers in the South, who knows what could have happened?

To All Who Live Free,

Let it be known to scholars, priests and rulers of fair and noble heart that a great danger is upon us. One of the primordials of old is being stirred from its sleep. Gods and their followers must unite or face the fall of the world, the end times known locally as Ragnarak. I am no prophet or doomsayer, I seek no reknown or reward. I am a scion of a small house from out of Grimsburg, and in my travels across the Nentir Vale, my companions and I came upon derelict tombs with tyrants slumbering beneath a symbol: the flaming elemental eye. 

Have you heard of the golden skulls? Do your history books speak of murders unleashing the beast? Come now – followers of Rao, learned Asmodeans, brave thralls of the Skanzi gods all – all of you know this! All the sages have heard tell these tales. Verify for yourselves the murders of Grimsburg. Listen to the sages of Skaldholme. And at last, send only your bravest and most pure of heart to the Androsax Manor, deep in the Nentir Vale. I will be waiting for you.

Of course you may also do nothing, as you may have done so many times before.

Derren Androsax


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## PHDungeon (Apr 15, 2010)

Some thoughts by Bjorn Thorskirk, from game session 16

Re-construction of the Temple continues, there have been both advances and set backs. Lord Markelhay has given us additional funding however several tradesmen were scared off by the events of the feast night, and Torfinn's explosion. Lady Markelhay came by with a new Paladin of Rao, a striking young woman, originally from Fallcrest, who had just returned from her training in the south. A shame that a true daughter of the north should embrace the southern gods so.  She talked of greater cooperation between the churches, and I hope it may be so, but I fear the centuries of conflict will not be easily overcome. I do see the need as the north teams with those who oppose the good of both pantheons. We have at heart much we could agree on. I suppose it is easier to despise the one who closely resembles you, yet rejects your beliefs, than the totally alien. For me the major sticking point is their stance on magic.  Magic in and of itself is not evil it is the use to which it is put that determines that. A sword in the hands of a paladin or a psychopath is the same sword but whether it defends or destroys is up to the hand that wields it. Should evil practitioners be rooted out? Certainly! However proficiency in magic does not make one automatically evil. 

The Altar in the Temple has been restored and we used it to gain some guidance on the entity trapped beneath the city. Asking if we should free it, we received a "no". Asking in what direction we should quest  to aid Trofinn we were directed "up". It seems more research is required, but we now have a little more information from which to go. The ancient structures below the city are associated with the flaming eye cult. Darren has returned to Grimsburg, to do some research and pay off debts to Starke, though I suspect all he really wishes to research is what's is beneath Brianna's skirts.  Torfinn has acquired a new mount, and an  ill tempered beast it is, I guess hanging around me he has got used to the type.

Deryl approached us earlier apparently the Asmodean's are planing a ritual for the night and it will be a good chance to root them out. One of the serving girls approached Deryl, informing her of the ceremony saying she was afraid. I am not entirely trusting of her and suggested we set some guards to “protect” her while we followed the cultists. Bella would take on the girl's form and lead us to them through the use of her familiar. 

We had a general idea of where the ceremony would take place in the catacombs beneath the city but as the network is fairly extensive we were not sure exactly where.  Deryl, Torfinn and I headed out to find a place to hide a little ways in from the entrance. It was as well we did, for it was a trap, and we arrived before it was set, and as a result were able to ambush the ambushers. It was close fought, and I admit I missed  Darren in the combat. It is not  good to be the only melee combatant. To our surprise we learned that one of the two serving girls working for Deryl had been replaced by a Changeling, but Bella handily slew her in the catacombs with her crossbow.  Many of the movers and shakers of Fallcrest had been members of the cult. When we done they were no more. 

We reported our findings and turned Gwen, the treacherous serving girl, over to Lord Markelhay for execution. Lord Markelhay was shocked at the depth of the cult, but having rooted it out he was able to legally seize their assets. A double win for him, a dangerous element eliminated and gains for the “town”. For our efforts, we were suitably rewarded and the townsfolk got the spectical of a public execution. It should also help our standing in the town and with good fortune increase the Skanzi Gods following.


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## PHDungeon (Apr 16, 2010)

Session 16: Ambush

I am a little concerned about how recent events will affect my standing with the party.  It has been a long time since I have met another of my kind and I must admit that most such encounters are unpleasant.  Our ability to assume the form of any humanoid and mimic them turns many of us to evil.  It is too easy to achieve wealth and standing by assuming the form of someone that has what we need.  When we are inevitably discovered it is usually a simple matter to acquire a new identity and slip away.  It is an unfortunate reality that most of the members of my race are evil.  Those that know we exist harbor a natural prejudice towards us, hence why we keep our true natures secret.

My day started with a summons from the Lady Androsax upon discovering Asmodean cultists among her staff.  She found this out when one of them, Gwen, confessed and told her that she had been forced into the cult during her time as a servant to Lord Kamroth, she insisted that she had never really followed them.  The maid saw within us a chance at escape her situation by removing the cultists that remained in Fallcrest.  Not a single one of us bought the story (Derren wasn’t there having returned to Grimsburg).

The maid suggested that we follow her and the other servant Cheri, who according to Gwen, was a true follower of the cult to the next meeting so that we might ambush them.  None of us trusted her, and we also felt that her plan was a foolhardy one, we quickly came up with one of our own.

I sat with Gwen and learned all I needed to know to assume her identity.  In the meantime, since we knew the basic location from Gwen (which was some of the caves in the escarpment between high and low town), Bjorn, Torfinn and Deryl made their way to the caves early.  We kept Gwen separated from Cheri and under guard.  The girl whined, but she was ignored.  Cheri remained in her room all day, saying she was sick.  We found this curious, but were too busy with our own plans to investigate.  Besides this voluntary solitary confinement worked to our advantage.

After dark, when the time came to leave, I went to Cheri’s room in the guise of Gwen and found a “miraculously” healed and well Cheri.  She took the lead and we stealthily made our way to the caves.  I almost slipped when Cheri revealed herself to be a changeling almost with her first breath. As soon as we had left the manor she told me that she had taken care of Cheri and left her corpse in the room. She then asked me if the heroes had bought my story.

It turns out that the real Cheri was not one of the cult, and this doppelganger had assumed her identity.  It appeared that Gwen was the true cultist; which came as no surprise.  Their plan was simple.  Lead us to the caves where an ambush would be waiting, and then use their superior numbers and the element of surprise to overpower us.

At first I was not sure how this new information would affect our plan, so I played my role.  Upon entering the caves I could hear the sounds of battle. A trio of Halflings, who were presumably members of the cult had stumbled across the place where Torfinn, Bjorn and Deryl had be hiding. Bjorn had led an attack and the fight had just begun. I quietly removed my weapon from my bag of holding and shot at the rather surprised doppelganger.  Unfortunately, she turned on me and after the attack and disappeared from my sight.

I stepped back and allowed the shadows to envelop and protect me.  The sounds of battle had alerted the more of the cultists to our presence. These ones had been setting up some kind of net trap for us deeper in the caves, and instead of sticking with their plan, they came running to investigate.  They were surprised to see that we had discovered their treachery, and I was able to pick and choose between several easy targets and remove them one by one.  The fighting was short but fierce. Bjorn had to assume the role of the front line defender, and he took several nasty blows. Fortunately, though the cultists were many in number, they were not well trained or equipped. It wasn’t long before all the cultists were dead, including the imp that had been a concern of Deryl’s.  We did not risk searching the remainder of their lair.

Upon returning we reported our findings to Lord Markalhay, needless to say he was grateful and took our recommendation of making an example of Gwen to the remaining cultists.  Her execution was a spectacle, a simultaneous stoning and burning, suggested by Torfinn.  It was a decidedly evil suggestion…I will have to watch him more closely.


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## PHDungeon (Apr 22, 2010)

Session 17:  Dungeons and Dragons

Dear Victor,

I have started settling in with Androsax’s group in Fallcrest.  After taking care of a siege involving tribes of orcs we have become local heroes and earned this cities trust.  Having befriended the local wizard I am now studying the intricacies of ritual casting.  It has been given me easy access to arcane resources and soon, I will be able to return to Grimmsburg at will.

Firstly, you will want to know that we have no new leads on Torfinn.  We cast a Hand of Fate ritual but will need to think better on our questions.  We asked in what direction to quest in order to help Torfinn and we were told…Up.  These rituals are so frustratingly vague.  As there are many other things that need our attention, it was decided to search for answers at another time after we have more information.  Both Torfinn and Bjorn stay in the temple that was ruined in the battle against the orcs.  They are rebuilding it and both are working towards reviving the power of the Aesir gods in the North.

As I have told you before, a Dragon now resides in Fallcrest, Kasanth.  Forced out of her lair by a Red dragon who had been disposed by a White dragon who is rising to the power of a god.  My companions are eager to rise to a sufficient level to take on this threat.  I do not share their altruism or their obvious insanity, for now our arrangement is lucrative for me, so I remain with them.

Kasanth has a problem with her Kobold slaves, they are disappearing from deep within the silver mines she resides in.  She asked us to discover the problem’s source and take care of it.  It is obvious that the dragon will become the true power in Fallcrest and since everyone is making this town their home having its dragon protector owe us a favour is a rare opportunity.

I will write again once we have returned.

Bella


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## PHDungeon (Apr 22, 2010)

Dear Corvin,

The torchlight flickers off the stone flues of the grey halls we are camped in for the night. We travelled northwest of Fallcrest at the request of Kasinth the iron dragon- to aid her kobold minions with some mysterious threat below their middling silver mine. The evening with the little shitscales was pleasant enough – I even got to recline on one of them for a while. Their “king” had a golden-skull as part of his “royal regalia”, and I am beginning to suspect these icons of the end times have been in circulation for eons, imitated and copied by the primitive folk who have fallen from the heights of some doomed progenitor civilization. Fortunately, the skull was inert, and it was not necessary for us to take action against the little creatures.

The kobold king pointed us to the depths, and our tiny guides lead us on a trail of white furred beasts that had been slaughtering and capturing their miners. They were camped like savages in a deep dwarven enclosure, a barbican of sorts–  its entrance set with glyphs of the elemental eye.

Our first struggle was with these primitive, relentless white-furred bear folk, whose women dropped stones on us from murder holes above us, while the savage males battered us with clubs and stone axes. They were accompanied by big, nasty spiders with poison fangs, capable of leaping great distances The sharp eyes of Deryl pointed out some more of their flanking, loping companions that I was able to hold off as the rest of the party levied bolt, lightning, spell and hammer at our foes. Our battle was hard fought, but eventually the rank beasts were dead at our feet, along with their arachnid companions. We left the womenfolk disabled and pressed through a large set of double doors that led us deeper into the complex.

The first room we found presented three parallel passage-ways set in the far wall, each suggestive of traps. Bella managed to convince us that in her delicate position, it would be unwise for her to scout ahead. We wondered at this, and as the discussion wore on, and on, I decided to leap across a grate. To the cackling pleasures of the dark engineer of the foul place, the floor of the hall began to pivot and I was deposited in a citric pit – but not before spying the hulking forms of undead and a strange statue of a ocular, tentacled worm in a spacious room that the hall opened into. My friends magicked me out of the trap, but not before I had felt the agonizing pain of its acids. 

Having discerned the nature of the trapped hall, Deryl managed to use the pivot to our advantage. She used her magic to lure one of the undead hulks in the far chamber onto the deadly side of the see-saw. The floor promptly tilted, depositing the ogre sized undead into the acid pit below. We fought our way into the room, slaying another undead hulk and a horde of ancient skeletons that stepped out of upright sarcophagi lining the side walls of the chamber. Yet while we were in the heat of battle, more misfortune struck, and the statue began to emit a poisonous fumes. Its toxic gases burned at our lungs before we managed to exit out of another glyph trapped door. 

I am now writing in the evening by lantern-light, unsure if we will survive this place. Huge stone blocks fell in front of the entranceway shortly after we entered, sealing us in these deadly halls, and now finding a way out is our foremost priority. This place seems to have no purpose other than to serve as some sort of malicious death trap, though there is little evidence to show there have been many unfortunate enough to find themselves trapped in this hell. As for its maker, I suspect a creature of equal parts genius and depravity, one whose spirit even now laughs at us for our folly of pursuing a quest to rid the world of golden skulls, elemental eyes, and the myriad enthusiasts of Ragnarak.

Your Brother,

Derren


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## PHDungeon (Apr 22, 2010)

I hope to have some journals from our most recent session- session #18 coming up soon. I am pleased to announce that session #18 features our first and long, long overdue PC fatality.


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## PHDungeon (Apr 30, 2010)

This is it, from Bella...

Session 18:  A Death in the Family

Derren is dead.

With our choice of profession we’ve been extraordinarily lucky that this has not happened sooner.  This is especially true for Derren with the haphazard way in which he fights.  It has been a long time coming, but we all knew it was inevitable.

The words of Ludwig the Hateful, the architect of this death trap of a dungeon, echo in my mind- “Anyone who dies here becomes a sacrifice to the Slumberer”.  Even if we wanted to, would we be able to resurrect him?  Derren is the biggest liability to my identity.  He most likely told his brother everything in a letter, or when he visited Grimmsburg.  Either way, Starke watches the Androsax’s closely.  If Derren told anyone then there is a good chance he knows my secret.  Hopefully not, but it may force me into a premature strike, always dangerous with Starke involved.

I remember now just moments before.  All of us trapped in a hallway and a large stone ball rolling toward us. Our way was blocked by a deep, spike filled pit, and to not cross it would mean instant death.  Unfortunately, I knew that I would not have the strength to be able to jump the pit. The thundering stone ball of death came barreling down the hall. For an instant I imagined it rolling over top of me and leaving me bloody paste stain on the hallway floor, then Derren wrapped his arm unceremoniously around my waist. He leapt into the air and carried me across nearly effortlessly.  The moment was a little ruined by his hand lingering on my breast, but he did save my life.

We opened the door to the vast chamber beyond.  In a center was a ziggurat of stairs surrounded by four shallow pools, each filled with a representation of the primary elements: earth, air, fire, and water.  At first there was no danger and we spread out to explore the chamber.  It didn’t take long until we activated the room’s defenses, and four elementals predictably rose from the pools to attack us.

We concentrated our best attacks on the fire elemental.  It fell first, but at great cost, for we expended some of our most potent attacks taking it out. While we were engaged with the elementals, a golden skull, big enough to have belonged to a titan, rose from a black pit at the top of the altar/ziggurat in the center of the room.  Its first attack laid down a blanket of fire, and to my horror held me in place.  Flames leapt up around me, causing me burning pain. I felt my legs being scorched, but I steeled my mind and tried to ignore the agony. I turned my attention to the water elemental while my more hale allies kept the earth and wind elementals at bay.

The water elemental could not withstand the combined might of the Sorceress’, and the earth Elemental did not fall easily, but it eventually crumbled under the might of our melee fighters.  Finally, there was only the Golden Skull and the air elemental.

Bjorn had been facing the wind elemental single-handedly for the entire battle, but it was still cackling with lightning.  Deryl and I were able to stay out of range of the Golden Skull (which continually attempted to blast my allies with various magical rays) and still attack it while the rest of our party surrounded the cursed air elemental.

The wind elemental continually tried to blow its foes into the pools of black ooze that surrounded the altar and the Golden Skull relentlessly protected it by attacking those that engaged it.  Derren and Bjorn both fell and rose again after each administering aid to the other. Eventually, Torfinn had to rush in with healing potions to keep them fighting. It wasn’t long before our healing magic expended, and Derren fell and did not rise again.  Watching, I took out a final healing potion and was torn between running into the fight and concentrating my attacks on the Golden Skull.  Dropping the potion almost immediately I loaded my weapon in a smooth, practiced motion and continued firing upon the skull.  I should have been resolute in this; taking care of the threat of the skull was the best strategy in keeping them alive.  It was the first time that my common sense had been compromised in such a way.  Having friends appears to be dangerous to my continued longevity.

Over the course of he battle the Golden Skull had sustained significant damage, and finally I fired a bolt that shattered it, causing it to fall into the black pit from which it had spawned.  A sense of triumph surged through me, for the hovering titan skull had been terribly vexing and had caused great injury to many of my companions. However, my triumph was overshadowed by the sight of Bjorn pulling Derren’s withered corpse from out of one of the black pools. It seemed that while Derren had been lying unconscious, desperately clinging to life, the elemental had blown his body into one of the terrible black ichor. The stuff was potent enough to finish off a healthy individual in a matter of seconds, so it was no surprise that Derren had not survived. It was a terrible way to go none-the-less. 

Now we sit, mourning the loss of our companion while trying to rest and decide what to do next. We still haven’t found a way out of this cursed place. We aren’t even sure if there is one.  If there isn’t one, not resurrecting Derren might be a blessing.  I know I wouldn’t want to be brought back only so I could starve to death.

We rest now, perhaps things will look less bleak after that.


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## PHDungeon (May 8, 2010)

This journal is from Bjorn, but takes place prior to the heroes venturing into the Underdark and getting trapped in the Hateful Halls. 

We have played another session since Derren's death that takes place in this nasty dungeon and features the most diabolical trap I have ever designed for a dungeon, so I'm hoping for journal entries regarding that session in the near future (as it was probably the most enjoyable game session I've run since my players fought Demogorgon at the end of of Savage Tide).

Bjorn 17

A most interesting and illuminating evening. Bella asked me to join her for dinner at a local inn, she asked me to come alone as there were some things she wished to discuss. She recommended an inn, one of the better ones in town, and  we agreed on a time. Given recent developments I was not sure what to expect and as construction on the temple has nearly been completed. I decided it would be a good time to move from the grounds. With that in mind I went early to the inn to secure a room, it would also allow me to check out the surroundings before our meeting.  The inn is actually quite comfortable, the bedding recently changed and the fellow guests looked to be skilled craftspeople. With the siege broken and the rebuilding going on there has been an influx of highly skilled masters and their apprentices. This inn obviously catered to the Craft Masters. 

As I was a little early after settling into my room and decided to head down to the dining area. This inn had both a common room and an area for dining an unusual feature for the inns in town, I can see why Bella recommended it. The cellar was surprisingly well stocked given the recent events in town. Not as extensive as it might otherwise been but a good selection none the less. I ordered a drink and waited for Bella to arrive. 

I was glad I had arrived early as we might not have got a table otherwise. The proprietor had earlier informed me they did not take reservations, as why turn away ready coin in favour of coin that may or may not turn up. The fact that the dining room was busy spoke well of the fare we were to enjoy this evening. The night's menu was a choice of either mutton stew or roast boar served with winter apples, spring greens, and fresh bread. 

Bella arrived shortly after my drink. The room was busy, but not an eye did not follow her progress through it. I saw more than on fellow get a kick under the table from the woman he was with. After Bella was seated the conversation in the room picked up again, and the serving girl approached the table and took Bella's drink order.  Bella's order arrived quickly and we placed our dinned order. Both of us decided on the Boar. 

Our conversation started with our companions. We talked initially about the Androsax siblings. I stated that I was uncomfortable travelling with such a young girl into the situations that we often found ourselves, and if Darren was not with us she would have to be returned to her family.  It was kind of Darren to humour his sister in the ownership of the house in town but the fact remained she was still a child regardless of how powerful she was.  Bella was resistant to this not that she disputed that Deryl was a child but apparently there was a link between them. This is when Bella showed me a mark that she said she shared with Deryl.  It was this mark they shared that made Bella reluctant to part ways. I indicated I understood but stated that if, the Gods forbid, any thing should happen to Darren she would have to be returned to her family. However I did concede that if Bella became Daryl's guardian things would be different. Bella however would have to get her parents agreement. 

At this point our meal arrived and conversation stopped as we enjoyed the meal, which was very good.

After the trenchers were cleared and we enjoyed an after dinner drink our conversation returned to our companions. Bella felt that I was crazy to be staying so close to Torfinn after what happened the night of the banquet. I pointed out that Torfinn is one of my most trusted companions and what sort of friend would I be to abandon him in his time of need. Besides he had warning last time and if, a big if, it happened again I expected that we would have warning again and again Torfinn would take appropriate steps. I did however want to help Torfinn and as the hand of fate had been less than helpful I though maybe it would be as well to return to the beginning and ask the brothers who found Torfinn in the storm if they recalled anything that might either help or provide a clue as to where to start.

This brought us to each other Bella asked if there was anything I wished to ask her. I said i did but was hesitant to do so in so public a place for concern of her own privacy. I knew how protective of her secret she was, and heaven help the one who betrays her confidence. Bella assured me however that a crowded place was better because there were so many conversations going on that unless you were partaking in one you would not hear any of them. Assured I began to ask about Changelings separating fact from the fictions I had heard in myth. It was a most interesting experience. 

Having taken me into her confidence Bella asked one more thing, assistance in taking down Starke. Given how I feel Starke was a danger I was ready to agree but wanted her reason. This she provided to my satisfaction. 

It has been a most interesting evening and tomorrow we head into another adventure the Iron wyrm has asked our assistance and we have agreed.


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## PHDungeon (May 24, 2010)

This journal details many of the events from game session #19 from Bella's POV. When we left off they were trapped in the deadly halls of Ludvag the Hateful, and Derren has just met his end in a terrible battle with elementals.


Session 19 – Naked Ambition

Victor,

My latest venture with the Androsax siblings was disappointingly low on profit and high on danger.

Deep below the silver mines that the Iron Dragon Kisanth had made her home we had stumbled across the halls of Ludvag the Hateful.  We had not made it far when it claimed its first life, that of Derren Androsax.  I was elated at first, most of our problems had come from the foolish noble.  Luckily Bjorn had a raise dead scroll, and was able to perform the ritual and bring our companion back to life. (DM’s Note: The raise dead is a blatant lie put in the letter to Starke. The truth is more like this: Deryl used her magic dagger, which seems to be possessed with some sort of intellect, to perform a disturbing magical ritual that allowed us to bring the man back to life. She literally had to cut his heart out of his chest, and then Torfinn was able to gently stoke the heart back to life with his divine lightning. It was horrifying watching little Deryl holding her brother’s beating heart in her hands. She then placed it back in his chest cavity and Bjorn used his healing magic to seal the wound. Seconds later Derren jolted back to life. I still do not understand the exact nature of the ritual, and I am not certain that the Derren Androsax that now walks among us is the same man he once was).

After resting from our ordeal, we explored the two exits in the room.  There was one on the south wall with a pool of freezing, necrotic black filth flush against the wall. It seemed to be the same foul liquid we had encountered in the bowls of the Temple of Yellow Skulls in the Ogrefist hills months earlier. Beyond a pair of bronze doors was a small room with nothing but a teleportation circle.  Opening the second set of doors revealed another hall.  Crossing the pit to open the first chamber had nearly killed me, so I stayed behind while the rest of the group scouted ahead down the hall.  When it was determined that it was the way that we would go, I crossed the pool again and followed.  Better the Devil you know, than the one you don’t.

The hall ended in a large chamber with an earthen floor featuring an enormous statue of Ludvag the Hateful and a pit/well.  Upon entering it filled with armies of the undead that crawled up out of the earthen floor. I suspect they were the dead workers who had helped to build this vile place. However, we fought them off easily.  Afterwards, a magic mouth activated on the statue and our illustrious host gave us salutations and empty promises.  According to Ludvag, his crypt was deep down at the bottom of the pit and with him all of his earthly treasures but no easy way out. He even compared the traps below to the famed Tomb of Horrors, claiming that those of the Tomb of Horrors paled in comparison to the one’s he had designed.  On the other hand, a teleportation circle in a chamber nearby potentially led to our freedom.

We explored the pit briefly.  Cullen was able to tell us that far below was a cavern with a lake of acid and to the west was a shore leading into presumably the insane dwarf’s tomb and fabulous riches.  We decided that even if we believed Ludvag we lacked the ability to delve into the pit unscathed and return.  We chose the circle, and though I know what happened next, I am unsure that it would have been worse then what have happened if we had ventured down the pit.  It would seem that Ludvag is very inventive. I find that I admire his ingenuity.  Victor, I would recommend an expedition here with a more prepared team, the dwarf is a liar but there may be a grain of truth in the treasure he speaks of.  All of his traps are purposely imperfect, they seem more tests for the skilled than contraptions made to kill, though they are plenty deadly.  Perhaps we shall return another time.  For now however, we all stepped onto the teleportation circle.

We materialized into a nightmare, a thin ledge against a wall next to a pit filled with fire.  A chain hung from the ceiling over the fire and across the pit was a small opening.  To add insult to injury, we were also naked; our gear was gone.  It continued to get worse, the wall of course started to move and soon we found that it was cursed magical glyphs, which bore an enchantment that caused us to want to fight each other.  Most of us were able to shake off its effects with little difficulty and those that couldn’t were not much of a threat without weapons.  Unfortunately our kobold companions were far less iron willed.  Two of them met their end in the fiery pit when they tried to attack us.  Eventually we were able to use the chain to swing across into the next chamber where we found our equipment scattered on the floor and another teleportation circle.

Of course it wasn’t that simple, the room’s sole occupant was a flesh golem.  We dropped, naked into the new chamber and rushed about trying to grab our weapons and gear, while at the same time avoiding the devastating fists of the hulking construct.  After a brief melee we were brought close to death.  We decided to flee, with our foe unvanquished, taking those of our possessions we could.  Fortunately I did not lose anything.

Our final teleportation circle placed us in a pit surrounded by ogres in the Ogrefist Hills, naked, bruised and beaten, holding everything we own in our arms.  Again we fought, but only briefly. It ended in us scrambling up the pit and running off into the night, chased by ogres nearly all the way back to Fallcrest.  I’m starting to think I’ve forgotten how to kill.

I was deeply shamed but alive and unfortunately no richer than when we left.  Though an experience in ingenuity, the halls of Ludvag the Hateful turned out to be a huge waste of time.  Perhaps if you would be willing to fund a further expedition we would be able to unlock its treasures and my second visit will be more lucrative.

We can discuss it when I have mastered the Linked Portal Ritual, which should be soon.

Bella


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## PHDungeon (May 26, 2010)

This is Bjorn's journal- recounting events from sessions 18-19 (The Halls of Ludvag the Hateful)

Bjorn's Journal

It has been an eventful week and doesn't appear to be letting up, but let me start from the beginning. The day after Bella's and my dinner I was asked to join my companions at Deryl and Derren's new home where Deryl informed us that she had been approached by the Iron dragon with a request. It seems that there was something deep in the mines that was killing the kobolds, not necessarily a bad thing from my point of view, and she wanted us to investigate and eliminate the threat. Given the recently established trading relationship with the dragon it made sense to pursue the task. It would also afford us some intelligence on their set up if it should be required we return at a future date.

We left for the silver mines and were met at the entrance, where they insisted we wear blindfolds. We grudgingly agreed not wanting to irritate the dragon. We were eventually led to her presence where we were informed of the threat and assigned 3 kobold guides to assist us. They wanted to again blindfold us to lead us to the area of the problems but in this instance we refused- if they wished our help we would not be blindfolded.

We made our way into the depths and eventually found the lair of some odd beasts called Quaggoths, they seemed some sort of ape but not. After slaying these beasts we found the remains of a few kobolds and thought that this was most likely the cause of their troubles. The lair was located in what appeared to be old dwarven construction. To be sure this was the sole cause we decided to explore further. This in retrospect was likely a mistake. For we had just entered the next area of the complex when the passage behind us was sealed by a devious trap of falling blocks.  We soon discovered we had ventured into a labyrinth of deadly traps and it was all we could do to survive.

I must recount a particular encounter with a little shame, if only to be sure I do not repeat it. We had just survived a nasty little trap relatively unscathed, and entered a new room that appeared vacant. Most of the party remained at the entrance while Derren and I moved forward to explore the room. That should have been my first alarm, but as we moved in Derren and I went in different directions.  Alarm two.  The room was a large rectangle with a central dais raised in steps. At each corner of the dais was a well. The two closest to the entrance we came in contained dirt and water; the far left one had a fire burning in it, and the last was empty. There were also pools of what appeared to be the same black oily liquid we encountered in the temple of the elemental eye around the room.  There was one large pool at the far end before a small landing and a door. There was another on the left side of the room, in front of a raised ledge and another door. A third one was on the right, just in from the plain wall. The final pool was just in from where we entered the room and was easy to walk around. Derren leapt up to investigate the ledge and door on the left, and I went to the right. All was quiet until, fool that I am, I began to climb the steps of the dais. As I stepped on the second step the  wells activated and elementals of the Earth, Water, Fire and Air attacked. From the central dais rose a Golden skull that must have once belonged to a giant. It shot some sort of ray from its eyes. I have no doubt that we would have sprung the trap eventually, but the fact that Derren and I were so spread out from each other and  the rest of our party was an error entirely of my own making. I cannot in this instance say it was Derren rushing foolishly in and endangering us; it was my own actions and impatience that allowed me to wander from Derren. 

The battle was hard fought, I stubbornly fought the elemental of air by myself, and did not disengage to aid the balance of my party who were out of range of my healing ability.  I was sorely wounded several times, but I was able to bounce back. It was not until near the end of battle that my error truly cost. I was knocked unconscious and was dieing when Derren, himself grievously wounded, came to my aid. He had no sooner aided me when the elemental of air slew him, first felling him with a blow, then knocking him into the deadly black "water". He died before I could pull him out.  It was while I was pulling him out that the rest of the party finished off our remaining elemental foes.  

It was a somber party that began to rest after this battle, I prepared to cast the ritual Gentle Repose on Derren to preserve him until we had opportunity to raise him. At this point I need to step back in time a little; earlier we encountered a magic visage of the creator of this hellish place. He spoke in a language only Bella understood. Bella told us that the creator was called Ludvag the Hateful and that the only way out of this death trap was forward. There seemed to be more, but Bella said it was mainly boasting and threats that were not worth translating.

Just as I was about to begin my ritual Deryl interrupted, saying that her dagger had told her that if we did nor raise Derren immediately his soul would be consumed by the Slumberer and this may help to wake it. 

My first response was -  Her dagger told her!?!?!?. What is going on? Unfortunately, Bella confirmed both that Deryl's dagger was intelligent and that those who fell in this place would feed the Slumberer.

If I had not felt such remorse as the cause of Derren's death, I most likely not have agreed to the proposed ritual. This ritual required us to cut out Derren's heart then drop some of our blood over it. Then Torrfin would apply his powers of lightening to stoke the heart back to beating. It would then be placed back in Derren's chest cavity, and I would do some healing to mend the wounds. This would supposably restore Derren to life. I must soon talk with Deryl about this dagger; the child is becoming more and more worrisome. Regardless, the ritual worked and Derren was restored. The process and battle had stretched our resources and we needed to rest.

We managed to rest without interruption, and afterwards we began to examine both exits from the room, the exit at the end of the room lead to a small room with a teleportation circle. The exit on the left lead to a hall. The walls of the hall were decorated with frescoes depicting the Dawn Wars. About half way down the hall was a pit. Having experienced the traps of Ludvag, we approached with caution. The pit had runes in the bottom that reversed the pull of gravity; the ceiling appeared to be solid, but I was suspicious. We thew one of the kobolds out to the middle with a rope tied to it. Instead of falling down, the kobold fell UP! As the kobold hit the ceiling, the surface broke, and it tumbled upward into a spike filled recess. We used ropes and pitons to cross safely.

Ahead of us was a set of double doors. We managed to disarm the traps on the door, and we entered the room beyond.  We again faced a fight, this time with undead which we were well able to handle. Ludvag made an appearance in a ghostly form to taunt us further. Bella informed us that there was both a great treasure and an exit, investigating this room we found a pit of acid and a secret door leading to a narrow passage. The pit no doubt led to Ludvag's tomb and the treasure, but given what we had faced so far we opted to forego it and follow the passage. I am not sure this was the easy route, as it led to another teleportation circle. Examining both this circle and the one previously found, we discovered they led to the same place and running out of options we used it. I was not amused. We teleported to a ledge a great distance above a flaming pit. There was a small exit across the room, and the only way to reach it was a chain hanging in the center of the room above the pit. To further complicate matters, the back wall of the ledge began to move forward and runes on the wall were effecting us with a confusion spell. Additionally, we were all as naked as the day we came into this world without any of our gear and no knowledge of where it might be. Not seeing a lot of options, in a moment of clarity, I leapt for the chain, and the Gods must have been with me for I was successful. I began to set the chain to swinging to make the chain easier for the rest of my companions to reach. The distance of the chain from the rune wall put me out of range of its nasty effects fortunately. Deryl  using her power of flight flew to the other side without problem, taking her favored kobold with her. Eventually the rest of the party gained their senses and joined me on the chain before being pushed into the flaming pit by the ever advancing wall. Unfortunately, both the kobolds were still under the effects of the wall's runes and as they hung from the top part of the chain, they tried to tear at Bella's hair and throw her down into the flaming pit. Bella fought hard, with no weapon. In desperation, she managed to hurl both the little kobolds down into the pit. The next problem was that the exit on the far side of the flaming pit was not large enough to hold us all. It was merely a small hole in the stone wall, and in the next room there was a fair drop to the floor. The good news is we had found our gear. It was scattered about the room beyond; the bad news was the room also contained a construct of flesh that seemed eager to scatter our body  parts in a similar manner. One by one we dropped down into this chamber. We spent a frantic time running around the room naked, gathering out gear and making our escape. There was some injury  by all, though Torfinn seemed particularly wounded. The exit from this room was another teleport circle, which we used with a prayer that we were not going from the frying pan to the fire. 

Fortunately, this circle took us out of Ludvag's halls of death. Unfortunately, we arrived in a place of worship for an ogre village in the Ogrefist hills, still naked and clutching our gear. We fought a hasty retreat and were able to get far enough away from the ogres to redress. We were exhausted from the trials we had faced, but we pressed on through the treacherous hills. We travelled all night long, pursued by ogre hunting parties the entire way. We were fortunate in that we made it out with both our lives and the vast majority of our gear. Deryl was a little upset at the death of her favorite kobold at the hands of an ogre shaman. I had no felling for or against them though Bella seemed particularly pleased at thier departure from this plane.


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## PHDungeon (May 28, 2010)

Some DM commentary. I had a lot of fun designing the nasty traps for Ludvag's Hateful Halls. It's not that often that I find an excuse to build a Tomb of Horrors style dungeon.

I was particularly pleased with the final trap/encounter it was probably one of my favorite encounters that I've devised as a dm. In case it isn't entirely clear in the journals I'm going to attempt to explain exactly how it worked.

The PCs step onto a teleportation circle, and it sends them to this ledge overlooking a massive pit of fire. The ledge is about 30' wide and goes 25' back. The pit of fire is the same width as the ledge that overlooks it, but it is about 60' across. It is a 50' drop down to the bottom of the pit from the ledge, and the entire pit is filled with permanent magical flames. A single chain dangles from the ceiling in the middle of the pit chamber. On the far side of the pit chamber (opposite the ledge) is a single exit which is a 2' by 2' opening in the wall, which is set at the same height as the ledge. The chain is lined up with the opening, so that it is possible for one to jump from the ledge to the chain and then swing to the opening. It is not an easy jump.

When the characters arrive on the ledge they find themselves naked. The only thing around them are some mundane weapons scattered on the ground. There own gear has been teleported nearby (as you will soon see). As soon as they arrive the trap triggers. The back wall slowly starts to move forward. It moves 5' each round, so that after 5 rounds it will push anyone left on the edge into the 50' deep pit of fire. Furthermore the wall is covered in aberrant glyphs. They trigger when the characters arrive with a Close Blast 5 squares from the wall (thus effecting anyone on the ledge). Everyone is subject to an attack vs Will. Anyone who it succeeds against takes psychic damage and is dominated (save ends, as per 4E rules). Dominated characters spend their actions picking up weapons and trying to attack their allies instead of worrying about the wall that is moving forward.

Several heroes were dominated but luckily made their saves pretty easy. However the glyphs have a 5,6 recharge, so they aren't out of the woods once they make their saves. In 4E this encounter is especially nasty because the heroes don't have easy access to flight magic and other effects that allow them to get to the other side of the pit easily. The sorcerer had a single round fly effect that could transport one other character with her (and she took one of the three kobolds, as opposed to an actual PC), but everyone else was SOL, so they had to jump for the chain. The cleric went first, making the jump, which he could have easily failed (resulting in a plunge to almost certain death). He then got the chain swinging back and forth. Other PCs (once they made their saves vrs. being dominated) started jumping to the chain (again they were lucky and no really low rolls showed up), so soon nearly the whole party was clinging to the chain). However, as the wall moved closer, so did the glyphs, so being on the chain was soon unsafe because those on the chain became in danger of being dominated again. The kobold guides were affected by this, and ended up trying to pull Bella off (it was a weird/hilarious image of an entirely naked party dangling from a chain over a pit of fire- Bella with kobold on her head trying to haul her off the chain). In the end the kobolds were too weak and they were tossed off into the pit.

The next problem was that opening on the far side was too small and not deep enough to hold the party. It was basically a 5' long tunnel that was 2 x2'. It ended with a 20' drop into another room, which contained all the party's gear scattered on the ground. It also had a flesh golem, which had enough reach to smack anyone coming out of the tunnel. Derren ended up feeding the chain through the tunnel and bracing his legs against the side wall to hold the chain so that the rest of the party could climb off it and start hopping down into the room with their gear. All the while the golem was smacking him for plenty of damage. It was nasty. Then the heroes had to run around and scoop up all their gear while the golem chased them and tried to trample them. Fortunately, they scooped up their bag of holding pretty early and managed to throw a lot of gear into it. None of them were in good enough shape to actually fight the golem in any real way, so they pretty much gathered as much of their magic items as they could and jumped onto the teleportation circle (it wasn't actually that easy because I believe the golem knocked a couple of heroes down to 0 hp requiring magical healing and the like to be doled out).

All in all it was a really evil encounter but a lot of fun. I totally recommend inflicting similar nastiness on your party if you are a dm.


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## PHDungeon (May 30, 2010)

A quick journal from Derren

Dear Corvin,

It has been a while since I wrote, but you don’t die and get resurrected every day. Sadly, the details are a little cloudy to me – somewhere deep in Ludvag the Hateful’s trap-haunted tomb, I took a plunge in the black waters where Bjorn fell defending us.

I remember swimming, like we did at the villa as children – only I was swimming through stars. I could hear the laughter of the men at Valhalla, and I even think a Valkyrie winked at me when I looked up her skirt – but then I started drifting down towards towards this inky blackness. I swam as hard and fast as I could – my friends tell me this is when my heart was remade with blood and lightening and magic – and instead of sinking eternally into the slumbering void, I was lifted and came upon Niflheim, Hel’s dark domain. 

You know, for an evil, half-rotting goddess and keeper of the dead who died in their sleep, she’s not bad looking. From her left side, mind you.  Above her sat father Loki, and while I had a thousand questions about mistletoe, Torfinn and the death of a man named Flagg – I shut up. For once.

They warned me about some bad things about the end of the world, and wanted me to say hello to Torfinn – and with that – whoosh – I was staring into the pretending-not-to care face of Bella. Little did she realize I would soon see her naked!

Of course, the only way that chick would get undressed is if a magical trap stripped us bare and compelled us to fight one another while a bunch of kobolds clung to her hair. But that was two rooms later in Ludvag the Hateful’s trap-tomb of certain doom.

We made it out alive, no richer for our efforts and the ugly face of a laughing, maniacal gnome pressed permanently on our memories. That was one sick gnome (DM note: Ludvag is actualy a derro dwarf).

Your brother, 

Derren


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## PHDungeon (May 31, 2010)

As of this session (#20) the party looks like this

Bella: level 9 changeling rogue (with a touch of sorcerer)
Derren: level 9 human fighter
Bjorn: level 9 human cleric
Torfinn: level 8 Deva Invoker
Deryl: level 8 human sorceress

Derren's player is moving in a couple of weeks, so we a have new player joining to fill in his spot. She will be running Vesna Surtursdottr (human, warlord). Vesna is introduced into the game this session.

Bella's journal

Session 20 – Fallcrest Falters

On our way back to Fallcrest we stumbled upon a skanzi longship beached on the Nentir River. Its crew, which consisted of a warband of sturdy looking skanzi warriors, were taking a break upon the banks of the river.  They appeared to be making their way upriver towards Fallcrest.  Thinking one of them was Brianna, Derren rushed forward flailing like a madman and falling upon the ground at the feet of their commander.  She was a woman; though it was hard to tell underneath all that armor and the many scars that decorated her face.  Her men formed a circle around her and Derren and much to our surprise it seemed that they had been sent to find him.

Their leader, Vesna, was the sister of Brianna.  It appears that the librarian never told her father that she was leaving to join our would be lordling in Fallcrest.  Her father, having his daughter disappear with a disreputable man of a fallen house, seems to have sent this small band of warriors to retrieve her.  After a brief parlay Derren was able to console the stern warlord and appease her that Brianna was safely back in Fallcrest.  We were able to buy passage upon her ship and the remainder of our journey became swift and uneventful.

We returned, however, to a city in chaos.

A band of men (we later discovered that they were cultists of the Elemental Eye) had broken into Deryl’s inn. They found the secret chambers and tunnels in the basement, and they used them to access the deep caves we had previously discovered beneath the town. There they freed many of the monsters that lurked below as well as kidnapped Brianna.  As soon as we were in the city gates we were informed that Lord Markelhay was on his deathbed, having been wounded in battle trying to defend the town from a terrible titan of earth and stone that had emerged from the caves. To make matters worse, any reputable cleric had been killed in the assault on the city.  And as if that wasn’t bad enough, Kissanth the iron dragon, was in the midst of laying claim to the leadership of Fallcrest in the confusion.

Both Bjorn and I wished to make haste to Lord Malkalhay’s side, as he seemed to be the most pressing matter at hand.  According to what we knew Brianna had been taken out of the city and not knowing where she was we should have rushed to the manor to tend to the lord’s wounds.  Instead, being lead by Derren’s foolish heart and Vesna’s stern devotion to duty and family, we stopped at the Blue Moon tavern to find out more about Brianna’s kidnapping.  While we talked about the events that had occured with a drunken Sergeant Faringray, a messenger informed us that Markelhay had died; considering how quickly it happed, I doubt we could have made it in time to help.

Our warlord and fighter were appeased for the moment, and we hurried to the palace to inspect Markelhay’s body.  Kissanth waited in the courtyard.  Being cautious and respectful I convinced her to allow us passage into the keep where his body lay.  We were taken to the body upon arriving by Lady Markelhay. Bjorn made a close inspection, and to his trained healer’s eye it revealed that he had been poisoned.  Olivia, the maid was abnormally nervous, and seeing this Derren and Vesna started to question her.  Terrified she would tell us nothing until Derren hung her upside down out the tower window.  It was only then, crying and screaming that she revealed Kissanth had forced her to poison the wounded Lord Markelhay.

It was then we knew what had to be done.

Under the bluff of wanting to talk about the leadership of Fallcrest, Deryl convinced the dragon to enter the Great Hall. Once inside I bolted the door shut and we all closed in around the mighty Iron Dragon. We were lucky and surprise was on our side.  Torfinn kept her controlled by stunning her repeatedly with his divine spells.  Derren took the brunt of the dragon’s attacks and allowed the rest of the party to attack her in relative safety. Being trapped in the great hall, she was unable to take to the air. The element of surprise and numbers worked in our favor. It was over more quickly than I anticipated. 

Kissanth is dead.

Though I wish to claim her hoard deep from within the kobold infested silver mines, it seems we have to rescue Derren’s useless librarian love interest from her captors.  Hopefully it will still be there when we get back.


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## PHDungeon (Jun 7, 2010)

Bjorn's Journal:

It is with heavy heart that I put quill to parchment, for Torfinn is truly gone. Let me recount from the beginning. We had just killed Kisanth and learned that Brianna had been taken in the direction of the ogrefist hills most likely to the old temple we had earlier explored. The town was still in disarray but we could not spare the time to set things right if we were to have any hope of rescuing Brianna. This being the case we set off the following morning taking horses and a dozen of Vesna's men, one of whom was a good tracker. We knew generally where we were going, but this time we were cutting across land, instead of following the road and heading south, which was the path we took during our first visit. This should save us some time provided we did not get lost.  We left Deryl behind to support Lady Marklehay in  her grief and provide a little aid if it should be needed for the troops.

Once we reached the Ogrefist hills we left the horses with Vesna's men, and our party; myself, Bella, Torfinn, Vesna, her tracker Snorri, and Darren. Headed into the hills on foot. The ground of the hills would have been treacherous for the horses and the time we gained getting here would have been lost.  We pushed hard and made our way to the valley of the temple in good time. When we arrived, Bella sent her familiar ahead to scope out the situation.

The Temple which we had cleared out when he last visited had new occupants. The upper area had a number of ogres patrolling and it looked like it would be a tough fight to go through them. That and the  fact that the sound of the fight might alert those who took Brianna to our presence made us decide to enter through the lower entrance where the black substance came out. The only problem was that what had been only a small trickle had expanded into a stream and had flooded the entrance area. From previous encounters with it,  we knew we could not just wade through it. There was a barely scalable path along the wall and into the cavern. Darren went first, acting as lead climber and laying a path of pitons and rope to aid the rest of us along. 

Even with this assist it was a hard climb and falling into the black liquid would not have been good. Here luck was with us and we made it into the cavern. The climb continued as we made our way along the way of a tunnel that led to the interior chambers of the temple. We were almost through the tunnel when we encountered a partial cave in. This was actually an aid to us and made progress a little easier if a little slower, as we could brace ourselves between the wall and the collapsed rubble. Derren still had the lead and this far in there was almost no light. In order to see Darren activated a sunrod. As he lit it just as a trio of gargoyles launched an attack. If not for that light we would have been at a serious disadvantage. Again the cave in aided us, giving us a bit of a slope to fight from and allowing all of us into the combat. It was a quick and dirty fight, as the gargoyles attempted to haul us from our precarious perches into the nasty ichor. Luckily, the black substance proved to be as inimical to the gargoyles as us. We managed to hack our way through them and cross the pool of black liquid with little additional injury.  We were not in too bad shape and felt we had to press on for fear the fight had alerted others to our presence. 

We made our way through the flooded catacombs with out incident and approached the well room. This  room was occupied by a variety of nasties including the air archon we encountered and fled from under Fallcrest, a lich, two more gargoyles and a trio of human cultists. Fortunately, Brianna was here and still alive; they had not sacrificed her yet. It was our tack to see they did not.  This was a hard fight, and we fought well together, focusing our attacks to take down the threats before us. As the tide turned in our favor one of the cultist moved over Brianna threatening to kill her if we did not surrender. Immediately Darren and Vesna leapt to her defence drawing his attacks to themselves and preventing harm to Brianna. It was Bella's well aimed shots that ended the threat of that culist however.  The fight was made easier by a well timed blow by Torfinn against the lich, knocking it into the well and taking it out of the battle. The fight had been a hard one and many of our resources had been used. We had been pushed to the limit but were victorious. We now had to get out.  With Briannah in bad shape from her ordeal we decided not to go through the ogres but to attempt to go out the way we came in. 

It was here tragedy struck. The way out was as difficult as the way in. Bella and I had made it out Torfinn was behind me, followed by Vesna and then Darren who was carrying Briannah. Given the precariousness of the line and pitons we were quite spread out so as not to put too much weight on any one point. It was as Torfinn was half way along the outside wall, myself and Bella at the path and Vesna at the entrance to the cavern,  that he lost his footing and fell into the black liquid, he was out of range of my healling powers, and before we could get to him he had suffered enough wounds to kill him. To have fought through so much and die in such a matter was more than I could bear. I retreived his body and resolved to bring him back. The rest of the party made it out and we left the area to where I could preform a gentle repose ritual to preserve Torfinn until we made it back to town.  Briannah was in some shock from her ordeal and we soon learned that they had preformed some sort of ritual on her and implanted something into her womb. I preformed some minor healings on her to get her back to Fallcrest where we could aid her better. As much as I wanted my brother back  Briannah took president. After gathering the necessary supplies I performed a Remove Affliction ritual, this was trying on Brianna but successful, and with some rest she was physically well. In time she will heal in her mind as well, as she has begun to show some signs of recovering. Though given her interest in Darren you have to question how sound of mind she was to begin with.

With Briannah taken care of I now began the preparations to revive Torfinn. The Aesir Temple, though damaged  in the latest attack had not burned down, and was in sufficient repair for me to perform the ritual.  With Torfinn laid out upon the altar, cleaned and garbed in muslin, I began my meditations to prepare myself for the raise dead ritual.  I was in the middle of my meditation when a most peculiar thing occured. A stranger came into the temple, and approaching Torrfinn on the altar he shook his head and said, “Our enemies have grown strong.”.  He drew closer and continued saying, “I must send my son home now. His time as a mortal has ended. He was sent here to atone for his misdeeds and now he must face judgement.” Suddenly Torfinn burst into flames and the stranger disappeared. All that was left was a sprig of  mistletoe. There was no trace of Torfinn and no scorch marks from the fire.  Even as I write  the details fade from my mind. 

I offered up prayers for Torfinn and hope that he is judged well, for he was a true friend to me and I will miss his sometimes taciturn companionship. The others in the party only knew the front he put forward; they did not come to know his lively sense of humour and keen wit, or his true loyalty once earned. My bother you will be missed. 

With Torfinn's final passing and the healing of Brianna, it is time to turn our attentions to Fallcrest and the coming months. With the orc raids and battles of the past summer, there is little to harvest in the area, and it will make for a very difficult winter. There is the possibility of starvation, as well the town's defences have been compromised- add the damage to the temple, and the murder of Lord Marklehay, and the town is at risk both physically and spiritually.  We have decided to seize the hoard of Kissanth in compensation for Markelhay's murder. The bulk of this will be used to purchase grain and food stuffs to help the town through the winter. I have put forward that the provisions be earned by work restoring the town's defences and Temples. I have dedicated the restoration of the Skanzi Temple to Torfinn's memory.  In the morning we will head out to the silver mines to parley with the kobolds. We will take the hoard however by force of arms if necessary, but it should not come to that. The one other matter we have to see to is the trial of Olivia, Lady Markelhay's maid for her part in the murder of Lord Markelhay.


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## PHDungeon (Jun 18, 2010)

A journal from Bella. 

Session 21 - Heart of Ice and Darkness

With a sharp intake of breath I awaken.  The room is freezing, far too cold for September.  In horror I realize that I can see my breath clouding in front of me.  I panic and leap from my bed my thoughts transforming my nightclothes into my trusted suit of armor.  My hand reaches over and brushes the metal and leather grip of my crossbow and I watch as the metal frosts over at my touch.  My entire body is wracked with the feeling of cold.  I drop to my knees the crossbow still in my hand.

And then it is gone.  As suddenly as it had come, it is gone.

This wasn’t the first time this has happened but I always react as if it is.  The symptoms were becoming less painful and prolonged with each passing day, my body adjusting to a new power manifesting itself inside me.  I can still feel the coldness within me, now a throbbing numbness.  I can feel it flowing through me and into my crossbow.  Although the crossbow was already magically augmented to launch freezing projectiles, I had always noticed that in my hands the bolts seemed to be more effective.  The frost burns usually found on victims of this type of enchantment would extend much farther out of their wounds than normal.

I allow Cullen to manifest and he comes crawling over my shoulder.

“It seems mistress, sweet mistress that your powers are increasing.”

“Yes Cullen, I was just thinking the same thing.  Although I have not been able to control this new ability, perhaps a few hours on the target range would aid me in honing it.  I have a feeling however that it has not reached its full potency within me.  Since I’m up I might as well get some work done.”

Bella sits at her workbench where a dragons eye is dissected and spread open with pins recent plunder from the defeat of the iron dragon, Kissanth.  Her notes lay in an orderly pile on the table.  Cullen leaps down off Bella’s shoulder and lands lightly on the table.

“The anatomy of a dragon’s eye is proving to be very educational.  It allowed Kissanth to see a broader spectrum of light then us mere humanoids.  With it I was able to manufacture a ritual that creates an area that allows creatures with regular vision to see as she did, at least for a short distance.  It works like a light but would not be seen at a distance.  I am confident that with further study I could create lenses that actually allow me see in the dark as a dragon would.”

“The main ritual component required the extraction of a specialized lens within the dragons eye that allows it to refocus light in order to see in the dark.  Although the dragon’s eye was the first material component I was able to make the ritual work with the lens of any creature that has darkvision could be substituted….”

Cullen leans back against a stack of books and yawns but when his mistress turns towards him he snaps to attention looking nervous.  Bella grants him one of her rare smiles, amused.

“It would seem it is later than I believed, perhaps I should return to bed.  This can wait till morning; it is obvious that I am nowhere near to unlocking its mysteries.  Come my friend, let us return to our dreams.”


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## PHDungeon (Jul 5, 2010)

Our campaign has been in a bit of flux over the past month, and the players are a little behind in their journals. Here's one of my own to help get things caught up.

Having rescued Briannah from being sacrificed to the Slumberer by the Cult of the Elemental Eye, the heroes found themselves back in Fallcrest. More time passed, and the companions kept themselves busy helping to prepare the town for what would surely be a difficult winter. The fall harvest was a lean one, for the fields had been neglected over the course of the summer due to the ever present threat posed by orcs to any who traveled beyond the town’s walls. Derren spent much time dreaming of and preparing himself for the day when he would head north to the remains of Androsax Hall and reclaim his ancestral lands from the claws of the red dragon Rathnir. He was insistent that it happen before the onset of winter, but the expedition was continually delayed as the heroes worked to help the town.

One day during that fall, a lone minotaur wandered into town. His name was Turak and he was a member of the Golden Horn tribe- a clan of minotaurs who resided in a labyrinth in the Dawnforge mountains not far from Hammerfast. Turak was a minotaur looking for answers. His clanhold had recently been razed and an important relic stolen from the heart of the maze. He had been away from home when the attack had occurred, leading a warband against hill giants. The minotaurs found themselves in battle against a large force of giants. It was a battle they could not win and Turak’s warriors had given their lives to see him survive, for he was the chosen of his clan, the minotaur who would be the next Guardian of the Maze. The sole survivor of the battle against the giants, Turak had returned home only to find that his clanhold had been destroyed and his kin slain. The attacker had clearly been some sort of giant, possibly a titan, for it had smashed straight through the walls of the maze to its heart- the place where the clan’s most sacred relics were held. The being had crushed all those who tried to stand in its way, leaving one minotaur corpse after another in its wake. Turak was devastated by the carnage, and the rage of Baphomet, which he worked so hard to suppress had been stirred inside of him. He had still to undergo the final stages of his training as the Guardian’s apprentice, the stage that would have told him the nature of the sacred relic that his clan protected. Only his master, the clan Guardian, knew the secret, and it was his master’s sacred duty to protect the relic and train the next guardian. Turak’s master was now dead, and the secret of relic had died with him. Thus, even though he had not completed the final initiation, and even though the sacred relic was gone and his kin dead, Turak was now the new Guardian. It was up to him to find out what had happened and reclaim his tribe’s lost relic. 

He began his search in nearby Hammerfast, and there he heard some wild tales that had drifted up from town of Fallcrest. These tales spoke of a hulking titan of earth that had emerged from caverns beneath the town. The titan had carved a swath of destruction through Fallcrest’s high town district before leaving the town and disappearing into the wilderness. Rumors seemed to suggest that the creature had headed east towards the Dawnforge Mountains. Turak doubted that this event and the destruction of his clanhold could be unrelated. In all likelihood this titan of earth that had appeared in Fallcrest was the same creature that slaughtered his kin and stole the sacred relic. The time had come for Turak to pay a visit to the lands of men. He traveled from Hammerfast to Fallcrest, and in Fallcrest he met a band of human heroes that seemed to know more about the titan than anyone else. They agreed to help the minotaur track down the titan, but first he would help them.

Late that fall Derren led Bjorn, Bella and Turak north up the Nentir river to recover the Anrdrosax manor from Rathnir the dragon. Vesna the Viking daughter of Jarl Sturgleson had taken her longship and sailed back south to procure food supplies that would help see the town through the winter, and Deryl had remained in Fallcrest to attend Briannah, for Derren could not bear the thought of any more harm coming to her in his absence.

The Androsax manor was not that far north of Fallcrest. It was clear as they neared the place that it was within the territory of a red dragon, for the surrounded countryside was a scorched ruin. The dragon had marked its territory for all to see. Finally, late in the afternoon, near the end of a hard day of travel they spotted the manor up ahead. It sat on a bluff overlooking the river, giving it a commanding view of the countryside. If the dragon had made its lair in the place, it would surely be able to see the heroes coming with ease.

However, it was not the dragon that first spotted them. A small flock of harpies emerged the keep’s crumbling watchtower and flew towards the heroes. It seemed that the dragon had some minions. Before the harpies could get close, Bella had her crossbow up and aimed. She fired on the first of the foul creatures, clipping its wing and causing it to plummet to the ground. With uncanny speed she reloaded the weapon and put two more bolts into the wretched thing. The others suddenly lost their urge to confront the heroes, for it seemed unlikely that they would be able to get close to them before the markswoman had shredded them with her bow. They reeled in the air and hastily flew back to the keep where they would in all likelihood report to the dragon.

The companions decided to fall back and take an extensive detour that would allow them to circle around behind the manor and approach it from the rear. They circled so widely that they made camp that night several miles north of the manor, and if the dragon had bothered to look for them it had not found them. Yet their rest that night was not a peaceful one. They found themselves ambushed by a bloodthirsty band of bugbears. This was their first true test of battle with their new ally Turak. The minotaur proved himself to be a capable and worthy companion, and the heroes made short work of the goblinoids.

The next day they made their approach on the Androsax manor. They scale up the backside of the hill and approached the gatehouse of the keep. Bella had already sent her familiar Cullen to scout out the place, and he had found that the gatehouse was home to a trio of hulking feral minotaurs. A hag of some sort had taken over an out building in the bailey that had once been a chapel to Roa, and she was busy practicing some sort of blasphemous religious rite with the aid of another massive minotaur. Cullen had not investigated the main keep, but it was presumed that Rathnir made his lair within, though he had yet to make an appearance. The minotaurs in the gatehouse were busy fighting amongst themselves, which seemed to be their main source of entertainment. Therefore, it seemed likely that if the heroes could engage them in the gatehouse and keep them contained within, they could hopefully slay the beasts without drawing the dragon, harpies or hag into the battle.
Unfortunately, this tactic failed. Bjorn led the assault, summoning the power of Thor to strike a mighty blow with his hammer that resulted in a thunderous clap that shook the entire gatehouse. The minotaurs inside were sent reeling by the divine power of blow, but they recovered quickly and engaged the heroes. These shaggy beasts were far larger than even Turak, and their curving horns were wicked sharp and long. They thrashed with the savagery of Baphomet himself, and they used their horns to hurl heroes out of the gatehouse and down the hillside. It was likely that it had been the initial thunderclap that had altered hag and her minotaur henchman to the fact that something was amiss, and it wasn’t long before she joined the fight along with the three harpies. Even Rathnir emerged from the keep, but the dragon took up a position overlooking the courtyard and seemed to content to watch the show. The presence of the dragon kept the heroes fighting in the gatehouse, for they were fighting for their lives as it was, and bringing the dragon into the battle would surely have spelled their doom. In the end they managed to fell their foes, but it was one of the most grueling battles they had ever been through. They were bloodied and spent, and to make matters worse the dragon awaited them. The situation seemed hopeless. Then Bella came up with an idea. Most of the fighting had occurred within the gatehouse, and though the dragon had been watching closely from outside it would only have been able to see bits and pieces of the action…


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## PHDungeon (Jul 9, 2010)

Here's a journal from Bella. It takes place directly after the journal I posted above.

Session 22:  Pain is a Teacher

The last thing I remember was sinking into a warm darkness and then there was a bright light.  The light hurt to look at, pain coursed through my body.  It cleared my addled mind.  Most believe that pain is a thing to be avoided, but an assassin knows the truth.  Pain is life.  When I was pulled to the light, I did not resist even though it hurt me.

My eyes opened and they were filled with blood.  Through a red hazed I looked upon the injured form of the final harpy.  A bolt blossomed in its eye.  I had made the shot so quickly that I didn’t fully realize that it was my hand that held the crossbow.  Frost expanded from the wound and its head had exploded in icy shards.  The immediate area was clear of enemies, but death still loomed over us.  There was only one thing to do.

My arm falls listless to my side, I lay my crossbow lay upon the ground.  I pick myself up, my body screaming in agony.  I lift the strap over my head and my quiver falls.  I drop the bag of holding, and finally strip off my chocker and my bracers.

I wipe the blood from my eyes and take a final look at my companions.  We were all spent.  Rathnir, the red dragon, watches from outside, and his fortress is surrounded by open plains. There was no escape, unless I could convince our final foe to retreat into his lair.  Limping to the door I concentrate and become the hag, letting my armor form into her clothes.  I would play the part of his minion, whose body lay dead at my feet.  At the moment I cannot remember if it was my own hand that killed her.  In foresight I gather some of Torfinn’s equipment from my bag, step into the light and walk towards the beast.

Rathnir’s eyes narrow as I come out of the gatehouse, immediately I slip into the role of the hag from what little I observed of her.

“Lord Rathnir, the adventurers who dared to insult you by invading your lair are dead.  Though I am the only survivor, we are victorious.” 

Rathnir’s eyes narrow and he leaps down flying gracefully despite his bulk.  He lands in front of me, his breath smelling of carrion.  With the dragon this close my fear is not an act.  Any sane person would be terrified, and I was, but in order to survive I kept tight control of it.  He scrutinizes me, as an owl looks upon a mouse.  I involuntarily flinch when he opens his mouth to speak, his mouth filled with razor sharp teeth.

“I would have their treasure, bring it to my horde and hurry.  Since you are the sole survivor perhaps you need my assistance in this task.”

I stammer out my response, “On no my master, I would not dream of having you soil your claws in such a menial task.  Please allow me to take your new treasures to you.  Here look, look, your patience will be rewarded”

With this I present him Torfinn’s staff.  Lord Rathnir takes it in his massive claw to examine it, plucking it delicately from my shaking hands.  All I can do is wait and try to remember how to breath while I am at the mercy of this beast.  After what seems like an eternity he returns his ancient gaze to me.  I can tell that he is looking for some kind of trick.  Although my story is believable, it is unlikely.  Finally with a huff he takes to the air with such force that I allow it to knock me to the ground.  He flies back to the vantage point from which he watched the fight.

“Fine.  But hurry with my new acquisitions.”

With that he returns to his lair and I return to my companions.  I have only one thing to say to them.

“Run”


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## PHDungeon (Jul 12, 2010)

This is lengthy journal by Bella recapping the final session of the heroic tier portion of our campaign, including the battle against the deadly red dragon Rathnir (with a little twist).

It begins the morning after the heroes fled from the Androsax manor. That night they holed up under piles of rubble from the collapsed ceiling of a small church that they found in a ruined village, which was located at the base of the hill that the keep sits on. Rathnir spent the night flying over the countryside searching for the heroes. He inspected the village, but only from the air, and they had hid themselves well enough that they escaped his notice. Thus, they were able to take a much needed extended rest.

Party Members

Bella (level 10 changeling rogue with a pinch of sorcerer)
Derren Androsax (level 10 human fighter)
Bjorn (level 10 human cleric of Thor)
Turak (level 9 minotaur warden)
Deryl Androsax (who joins in the action for this session, level 9 human sorcerer).

Session 23:  Breaking the Ice

In the ruins of a temple we awaken, our jailer still vigilante in his fortress.  We start preparing for the inevitable confrontation.  There is a determined set to my familiar’s eyes, Cullen had failed me yesterday; he would not do so again.  I think as I wait for the homunculus to rematerialize in my pocket, the dragon is a formidable opponent and the terrain does not make stealth easy; he has nothing to be ashamed about.  Several tense hours pass and then we hear Rathnir take to the air and pass over us.  Cullen returns with the news.  Somehow Deryl has followed us here and is making her way down the river to the south.

Derren is through the door and running before I can completely relay the information.  Reluctantly, we follow.

When we arrive on the scene it is surprisingly serene.  We find Deryl standing in the river having a polite conversation with our enemy.  As usual, Derren’s arrival smashes the tranquility, the dragon turns toward our fighter and the young noble engages in the only form of diplomacy he has ever been even moderately successful.  Turak and Bjorn are not far behind and soon we have the dragon completely surrounded.

I stay back, not needing the same proximity as my allies to be effective.  From behind a rock cropping I fire bolt after bolt into the fray.  I managed to clip its wing, ensuring that it could not escape through flight, especially with Turak in the fray.  I watch the battle progress, and it is just as difficult as we imagined it would be.  The dragon’s breath rains down upon them again and again.  It’s tail sweeps among my companions periodically, throwing each to the ground.  I can see them tiring, but I also know that ultimately we are going to win.

Then I see them.  Two white dragons flying gracefully toward us.  They land in the middle of our battle.  One of them calls out to our foe.

“Rathnir, [Other Dragon] sends his regards. [Drew, little help here, fill this in].”

The white dragons surround Rathnir and the red dragon focuses on the now bigger threat.  We all take it easier now that our new allies have joined the fight.  The enemy of our enemy is our friend.  Already weakened, soon Rathnir falls to the assaults of the other two wyrms.

One of the whites addresses Bjorn.

“We have come to kill Rathnir and take his hoard.”

Bjorn looks them in the eye.

“One out of two ain’t bad”

And with that his hammer descends on the dragon’s head.

The brief respite the dragons had provided in our battle against Rathnir had left us with enough strength to still be confident against our new foes.  The red dragon had weakened them, so most of their threat was diminished.  I grew overconfident.  Hoping to blind them I crept from my hiding spot and advanced into the melee.  I looked into the eyes of the dragon and for a moment I remembered yesterday and staring down Rathnir.  Fear threatened to overcome me, but I mastered it.  Each of my bolts struck true and the mighty wyrm balked under my assault.  Unfortunately it only lasted a moment as somehow the dragon shook off the affect.  Its eyes turned toward me and focused, wrath plain within them.

As my vision filled with the dragon’s claw I remembered my fear.

My body is wracked with pain as I once again retreat from the beasts reach.  I watch as Turak keeps the dragon in place as I fire bolt after bolt into its thick hide.  With the four of us working together one of them relents, breathing it’s last as Turak’s hammer drops upon its snout.  Its companion decides that perhaps Rathnir’s hoard was not worth his life and tries to escape.  The mighty minotaur would not have that, twisting his horns into the dragons soft underbelly and throwing it to the ground.  It soon realizes that it has no choice but to stay even though it will mean certain death.  It tries valiantly to at least take one of us with it but it was not meant to be.  Soon all three dragons are corpses at our feet.

Leaving the bodies we made our way to Derren’s ‘manor’.  Just inside we found what we had fought so hard for.  Rathnir’s hoard was a beautiful thing to behold.  My fingers shook as I ran them through piles of gold and gems.  Finally, following Derren as he blundered across the countryside had paid off and as an added bonus he was leaving us to rule over his new manor.

We returned to Fallcrest.  The winter months would be busy for me.  The bodies of the ice wyrms provided excellent ritual components for upgrading my crossbow.  I also crafted a backup crossbow that was not magical or ornate.  I created enchanted, personalized ritual books for myself, Bjorn and Deryl.  After that there was nothing preventing me from mastering every ritual in Flagg’s book.

After these initial preparations Deryl and myself when to Grimmsburg using the Linked Portal in my tower.  Besides shopping, we also had business to attend to.  With Derren no longer in our party Bjorn was insisting that the young Androsax girl either stay with him or return home.  With the mystery of the mark still with the girl I would rather keep a close eye on her.  A compromise was reached.  I would become Deryl’s guardian.  It was surprisingly easy; her parents seem frightened of her and eager to have her far away.  I could see regret in her mother’s eyes as we walked away but also acceptance.  Deryl is a sorceress and far more powerful than she could comprehend.  She is no longer the girl that ran off with her brother months before.  Honestly, when her mother hugged her awkwardly goodbye it was like her own daughter had become a stranger to her.

The more unpleasant business was my meeting with Starke.  I am unsure if he was dropping hints that he knows of my true nature but one thing is certain, he grows more paranoid as the days pass.  Fortunately, he isn’t making any accusations and still considers me valuable enough to not attempt to kill me.  He has let me go, but the meeting has made me aware that I must usurp him soon as I can now feel the bladed pendulum above my head.

Finally the Academy here has proven to be most enlightening.  It is where Deryl and I spent the remainder of our days in Grimmsburg.  I was able to find several useful rituals: One created by Tyjon the Mad that allowed me to turn my bag of holding inside out and hide it within a extra-dimensional space; another that has enabled me to mask the magical aura’s of my equipment, and a high level ritual for fighting underwater.  I did not only find rituals here but some martial tomes as well.  They showed me methods of loading my crossbow faster and shooting farther.

On our return to Fallcrest I find I have little time for socializing.  I am at the shooting range almost every day.  With time I learn to draw a bolt from my quiver and fire it at my target faster than blinking.  As each bolt strikes home I feel the coldness within me flowing into my weapon.  The crossbow was already a potent weapon, but in my hands it was becoming deadly; it’s frost enchantment more pronounced when I fired it.  During these sessions I garnered much attention from the men of the town.  They were content to watch and none dared approach me, apparently my frigid disposition had gotten around.

My crossbow is a variation of a hand crossbow, a highly specialized piece of equipment.  Duplicating it and attempting to distribute it would bring Starke’s always vigilant eye down upon me, a meeting that I was not yet willing to provoke.  The hand crossbow itself however requires less training than a bow and can therefore be effective in the hands of almost anyone.  The walls of Fallcrest need to be better defended; perhaps I can approach Lady Malkalhay on commissioning the creation of crossbows for her militia.  I should talk to Teldorn, the local dwarf blacksmith, surely he knows how to create them.  I would even offer my services to any willing to train in the use of the weapons.  It was time that the people of Fallcrest leaned take care of themselves and rely less upon us.

On that note, Vesna’s men seemed to be settling in.  The many misfortunes of that had befallen the city had left many widows.  They are poor farmers, but right now in these dark times soldiers are needed.  As I walk through the streets I now feel more confident that when next we leave for whatever reason, perhaps we will not return to tragedy.

Time will only tell.


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## PHDungeon (Jul 16, 2010)

The next portion of this campaign journal recount the paragon tier of the characters adventures. We've had some new changes to our player roster. The player who was running Derren has unfortunately left us to move out east. The player who is running Vesna has joined us full time and will essentially be his replacement. The current party now consists of 

Bella (level 11 changeling rogue with a touch of arcana)

Deryl Androsax (level 11 human, sorceress/wild mage)

Vesna Surtursdottr (level 11 human, warlord)

Bjorn Thorskirk (level 11 human, cleric of thor)

Turak (level 11 minotaur, warden)

Derren Androsax has retired to his new manor just north of Fallcrest with his new bride Briannah (Vesna's sister). The characters have endured a long cold winter in Fallcrest, but spring has finally come again. They have been called south to the town of Moonstair, which is located along the Nentir river about halfway between Fallcrest and the city of Grimmsburg. Their mission is to deal with Skalmed the troll king before he can rebuild the fallen troll kingdom of Vardar, crush Moonstair and march on Grimmsburg. The next few sessions will detail events of the King of the Trollhaunt Warrens adventure. This will be first published scenario used in this game (of course it will see some modifications).

The following is Bella's first paragon tier journal.

Session 24:  Decent into Darkness

Leaning back at my desk I look over my notes on the dissected dragons eye.  Its mysteries have proven to be more complex then I had first anticipated.  Cullen is curled on the desk as I absentmindedly stroke his quartz skin.  He purrs contentedly, like a cat.  Turning his head he smiles up at me.  I look down at him, having read and re-read my notes countless times.  Something catches my eye, in the center of Cullen’s form, something that was not there before.

Lifting him up I look closer.  It is like a dark imperfection inside the crystal.  It is like a shard of darkness.

“Cullen, what is that?”

“Ah, you notice Mistress.  As you increase your prowess I also change and grow.  Soon you shall be able to alter my form to better serve you.  In my new form we will be brought closer together.  Although this will mean that I will not be able to scout afar for you anymore, you will be able to see through my eyes, eyes that will be able to pierce the veil of shadows.”

I roll my eyes, a little exasperated.

“Cullen, that’s what I have been working on.  I was even able to find the plans for goggles in the libraries of Starke’s compound.  I currently lack the components and though I loathe admitting it, the skill, to create them.  The components are quite rare and they will take time to gather.”

Cullen grasps my finger and looks into my eyes pleading.

“Ah, but mistress, once you alter my form you will not need the item.  Surely, you see the value?  I only wish to serve you better mistress.”

He is of course right; dark vision without the aid of an item would be a boon to any changeling.  So many of my enemies seem to possess it, and it would make impersonating them easier.  However, giving up Cullen’s ability to safely scout afar would be difficult.  Even though I do not make use of it often, it is a proven asset.

“I will consider your words with great care.  I loathe sacrificing your current form’s abilities rashly.”

Cullen bows his head.

“That is more than I could hope for; my mistress is most wise.”

Weeks later, as I stand in the pitch darkness of the Troll Haunt, I cannot help thinking of this conversation.  Of course without my familiar’s ability to scout we probably never would have found our way into here.  The Dark Light ritual has proven to be less than effective in the field.  Although no one can see it from outside its sphere of influence, from within it is clearly visible.  I am also finding the fact that it remains tied to me to be less than ideal.  I cannot see beyond its feeble light but enemies can still see me.  Standing here now, blind, my decision is made, as soon as I am able I will take Cullen’s offer.  Assuming we survive of course.

Winter had just been relenting into Spring when Moonstair’s call to aid came.  Apparently a new troll king had risen near them and was causing trouble.  Bjorn’s soft heart made it impossible for him to refuse.  I would have preferred to remain in my tower, but my craft is expensive, and the venture could be lucrative.  It would also give me a chance to field test some of my new rituals and besides, the rest of them would die without me. It looked like it would be up to us to play the role of heroes again and slay this troll king before he could lead his armies against Moonstair and possibly Grimmsburg itself.

After some unpleasant information gathering involving a local hag we found the Troll King’s, a large hill deep within the swampy mire that is known far and wide as the Trollhaunt.  After some very fortunate scouting from Cullen we found an unguarded sinkhole in the top.  

Our siege has so far proven to be effective, but less than ideal. We started by dropping into the sinkhole, and unfortunately into a group of trolls and their odd one eyed, vicious pets (Nothics).  Luckily, seeing a beautiful woman literally dropping amongst them deep in their closely guarded compound caught them by surprise.  I was able to blind one of the trolls with a well placed bolt and find cover while the rest of my companions followed and kept them busy.

We were able to deal with them relatively easily.  Unfortunately, Vesna pushed one of them into a subterranean river that seems to run through their warren before we were able to finish him off. He disappeared downstream into the darkness with the swift current.  Now I can feel our time running out the longer we stay here.  Eventually that troll will claw his way out of the river.  The place is infested with trolls. Re-enforcements will be coming, and we will have to find and kill their king, then leave.  Quickly.


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## PHDungeon (Sep 7, 2010)

The journal's fallen a little behind over the course of the summer, but I now have a number of player journals ready to be posted, so I'll be posting many over the next week or so as I try to get caught up.

Bella's Journal: Session 25 – The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

After our initial assault on the Troll Haunt, we made our way deeper into their caverns.  We found the trolls’ forge; it was a crude affair manned with pitiful looking grimlock slaves.  Their slave master was a formidable looking troll with a dangerous looking, four legged, drake that breathed fire (redspawn fire belcher).  His charges looked like they were going to attack us at first but they wisely held back. It wasn’t long before the troll was dead and his pet learned the true meaning of dangerous.  In the end it was cowering in a corner when we put it out of its misery.

After the battle the slaves were more than willing to tell us in what direction to go to reach the Troll King in exchange for their lives.  They were pathetic creatures and I could not see any threat from them that we couldn’t deal with.  In a rare show of mercy, I decided that they did not need to die.

I took the lead.  Having realized the limitations of my dark light ritual, I listened as hard as I could as I crept forward.  I sent Cullen ahead to give me warning should anything come close to entering my light.  The hall opened up to a large chamber and Cullen and I heard one troll up ahead, but I managed not to alert it to our presence.  Deeper within we could hear many others, so I pulled back to confer with my comrades.

After hearing my report Bjorn wanted to get a look himself.  Unfortunately he was lacking my finesse and he stumbled forward along with Turak.  The only way he could have been louder is by singing a drinking song as he went, which would not have been unusual.  The troll I had detected earlier spotted them and the inevitable battle began.

For once we didn’t advance into the room rashly but focused on the threat before us.  Bjorn used a sun rod in the middle of melee to light up the cavern.  Even though I had heard a large group, only a single troll appeared to re-enforce his ally.  We wisely remained where we were and focused on the first troll and it fell quickly to our combined assault.

A second troll walked into the light, and I could see our warlord looking at it, twitching to charge the thing, but I cried out and stop her attack.  I looked to our minotaur friend and nodded my head toward our new enemy.  Where I would be cautious, the cow looked eager.  He knew an ambush was ahead but he also knew that he could take it.  With a roar of challenge he charged and was bombarded by the projectiles from the waiting horde.  

A small cliff rose up before us, and the room we were in appeared to be a long tunnel that curved in on itself. Up on the cliff trolls howled and hurled rocks down at us. Turak and Vesna were able to pull the ranged attackers from their safe perch fairly early negating their advantage.  Bjorn advanced into the melee while I remained back and fired into the group.  One by one they fell, and Deryl burned their bodies with fire magic to make sure they would not regenerate.  It was not long before we were surrounded by their charred, dead bodies.

We quickly made our way up the switch back dirt ramp.  Re-enforcements were coming and they were not trying to be stealthy about it.  Grimly we hid among the caves rocks waiting for them to come.  The battles we had faced today had been taxing. We were weary and the day’s challenges looked to be far from over.

A small party of trolls entered the chamber from a narrow corridor.  We struck hard and fast and fortunately for us were able to keep them pinned.  We could see the Troll King screaming impotently from behind their ranks.  We were able to keep the front line bottle necked in the tunnel and dissect it at our leisure. Turak held his ground in the mouth of tunnel they were coming out of, ensuring that they could not spread out around us. 

Finally the Troll King stepped over the corpses of his minions to engage us.  His one red eye evaluating each of us.  His he raised his giant axe and brought it down upon Turak again and again.  His end however was inevitable. There were five of us and only one of him. He was determined to go down fighting and cut into us with terrible savagery, but as I said- his end was inevitable. Finally, with a final brutal blow from his maul, Turak ended the king’s foul life.

Or so we thought.

In his dying breath he mocked us and his body disappeared.  Frustratingly, it wasn’t over and we would have to travel deeper in the warren in order to end this menace.


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## PHDungeon (Oct 17, 2010)

“Mistress…”

It had been a long day.  I lie curled up in my tent in an uneasy rest.  We are far from home in a cold cavern in the Fey Wild.  This was where we finally defeated the Troll King and his stench still permeates the room.

“Mistress…”

Our exploration of the King’s Throne room had revealed that his throne was a portal to the Fey Wild that Deryl was able to activate.  It was here that we discovered a group of hags trying to revive the Troll King in a giant stone cauldron.

They didn’t succeed.

“Mistress….”

For most of the battle I kept out of harm’s way, my companions were not so fortunate.  Both Bjorn and Turak were the victims of domination by the hags.  They used the cauldron as cover so I was having difficulty getting a clear shot.  In the end however we were able to interrupt their ritual and defeat them before we had to face the Troll King a second time.

“Mistress…”

I open my eyes and see Cullen flying in front of me, but I barely recognize him.  He is no longer translucent crystal, but black and covered in scales.  His form bulges out uncomfortably in places in a way that would be painful in a living being.  His eyes look into mine, pleading.

“I apologize for awakening you Mistress, especially after such a trying day but it would seem that our powers have grown and I require your assistance to complete the transformation.”

Groggily I prop myself up and look upon the sorry state of my familiar.  He really is a mess.

“It is I who should be saying sorry Cullen.  You have been a loyal servant and a true friend.  I do not say it enough. Without you this mission probably would have been disastrous.  Allow me to repay you for all your hard work.”

With that I reach out and reshape his body with my hands and my magic.  His ethereal flesh moves like smoke and clay and takes shape by my touch.  I find that I am not in complete control of the transformation, Cullen’s body takes shape almost on its own.  His obsidian scales glitter in the darkness, his eyes are pools of unending night.  His wings are now those of a bat and he melds with the shadows as he hovers before me.  When I finish he resembles a small but majestic black dragon.

Cullen flexes his new body, clearly pleased with my work.  As I altered his form I could feel our bond changing.  We were more closely linked, no longer would Cullen be able to scout afar.  I wouldn’t say I liked the idea, but for what was promised it would be worth it.

“I thank you my Mistress, may I continue to serve you as well in this form as I did my last.  Now please rest Mistress.  As I said it was a trying day and if this were not so important I would not have waken you.”

With that he slips into my pocket and disappears.

I snuff out the light in my tent, ready to sleep and have a start of surprise.

My tent does not go dark, but is in hues of black and white.  I can now see in the dark.  I look around marveling at the new sense.  My sorceress abilities are not flashy or indeed potent.  This however is one of the greatest gifts they could give me.  My eyes now pierce the veil of shadow.  Now I can see just as well as my enemy, no longer will they be able to use darkness to hide.  My bolts shall descend on them like rain.

Curling up I return to my dreams, content.


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## PHDungeon (Oct 17, 2010)

A journal from Vesna, daughter of Jarl Surtur of Grimmsburg.

Over the years, I have traveled far in trade and on errands for my father, and I have always had an adventurous soul; yet even I am home sick after the atrocities I have faced and the wasted places I have visited in the past few weeks.

In the interest of keeping peace within my father's borders I have joined with Bjorn cleric of Thor, Bella the sorcerous rogue, and a minotaur named Turoc to try to put an end to the evil forces attempting to poison our towns and cities with their vile cults and sacrifices. Having helped to dispatch a dragon in Fallcrest I wrongfully underestimated the difficulty of our next task during which we lost a potent ally named Torfinn to the vile sludge that wells up from the earth as a sure sign of the presence of unspeakable evil.

By Odin how I miss my long boat and my men; would that I could spend one night in their loud and caring company, or even a good nights sleep in my old room in Grimmsburg, or my own homestead. The gods know I spend little time there, but I do actually maintain a household near Grimmsburg run by my younger sister. She was widowed at a young age so I took her in, and I have counted on her trusty eye and hand in running my affairs while I am gone.

In recent days we traveled to the Trollhaunt near the town of Moonstair to deal with rumors of a gathering troll army led by a “Troll King”. Our last fight with the trolls and their king was exhausting and infuriating, let me explain:
After having delved deep into their king’s warren, we found a weapons forge, and we fought several troll guards slaying them all. I was able to shove one into the water just as it was about to take a fatal strike at Bella. I was not sure what to make of her at first, but I have growing respect for this woman as she is a very strategic archer and has seemingly mystic powers somewhat beyond my understanding. I will continue to observe closely, for there is only one thing I value above honesty and prosperous trade, and that is learning; knowledge is a tool and a safeguard in today’s world.

Once we reached the inner caves we faced not just more troll guards but their king. One of his eyes was a magical glowing orb, and when we had brought the troll king to the brink of death and suffered  many blows and cuts in doing so, his body vanished in flame taking the magical orb with it. Just before he vanished the Troll king laughed spitefully and revealed that he had sent troops to Moonstair, and that while we fought here in the dank tunnels they were sacking the town. This angered me greatly; all those innocent people, farmers, bakers, inn keepers, wives, children hard working people, my father's people, my people, and yet I may not be able to protect them. Still I will continue and succeed or die trying. I have left my loyal servant Thom and a ship full of my best warriors behind in Moonstair to protect the town. I pray that they will be able to bolster the town’s defenses enough to stave off the raid. Meanwhile, I will fight evil in any form; that is my sworn oath. We shall seek out the troll king, and see that he is dealt with once and for all, so that he no longer poses a threat to my people.


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## PHDungeon (Oct 22, 2010)

DM Note:  We had another change in our player line up. Deryl’s player had to leave the game and a new player took her place, so we had to write her out of the story and bring in a new character. After destroying the enchanted, formorian, stone cauldron and thus preventing Skalmed the Trollking from returning to life, the heroes took an extended rest. During this rest Deryl’s magical dagger burst into flames and the flames consumed her. The heroes awoke to witness this event and she seemed to be in no pain. Soon her entire body was gone and only the dagger remained behind. All the arcane power had been drained from it. The adventurers were left to speculate the cause, and they decided that Loki was likely behind the event.

Soon Afterwards the heroes were introduced to Melek the tiefling warlock/wizard. The following is the first journal from Melek’s player and introduces this new character.

Melek’s Journal:

Well, that has to count as amongst the most eventful few days that I've ever spent. Let’s see: Make a new pact with a new entity, leave the Feywild, return to Grimmsburg for the first time in years, learn that the one place that I really consider home is under siege, and witness a failed coup attempt that is pretty much guaranteed to lead to an immensely damaging civil war.

I shudder to realize that this still puts the week in, at best, third place on the "eventful weeks that I have spent" scale.

But I should probably start from the beginning. I traveled with a group of clerics of Thor from Thunderholme abbey to the town of Moonstair. Our mission was to bolster the town’s defenses, as it was apparently threatened by trolls. After arriving, I learned that the town boasted a mystic portal to the Feywild, and I volunteered to lend my support to a diplomatic mission sent to that realm to garner aid from the mysterious eladrin.

In the feywild I joined an eladrin war band that had become aware that trolls were entering into their realm through some means of their own. They suspected it was linked to our own problems with trolls in midgard, and myself and several good clerics of Thor pledged our aid in finding a means of sealing their access to the fey realm.

Well, that ended up in a complete disaster. We ran into more trouble than a band of pointy eared stuck up snobs could handle, even with my help. Several of them had already died when the rest of them abandoned me to my fate. I managed to fight my way out but soon found myself wandering in the swamps, sick and injured. My last real memory was collapsing in a circle of standing stones that I'd hoped would take me home.

Then we have dreams and images and sounds. I know that in my delirious state, I made some form of Pact with some kind of Fae lord. I really, really wish that I knew more. I guess that I didn't have much choice in the matter. It was that or perish. And I'm pretty sure that my soul hasn't been sufficiently redeemed as of yet, so perishing really was NOT an option.

At least I gained something in the bargain. I seem to have an instinctive knowledge of at least some of my newfound abilities. The Fey step and Eye blink are pretty standard Warlock fare, I've seen them in action before. But how the heck the Pact caused my Winged Horde spell to now be real burning damage as opposed to illusion I do not understand. Darn useful, mind you.

When I awoke I found that I knew the way to a strange formorian cauldron that trolls coveted. Certainly this information must have been gifted to me by the fae that I have made my pact with. That seems a pretty obvious hint as to what I'm expected to do. Wonder if other "suggestions" will be this clear? At any rate, I headed off to where my horns were leading me.

It was soon obvious that somebody had been there ahead of me. Corpses of trolls and various fell beasts littered the ground. As I advanced cautiously, I heard the sounds of people talking ahead. Given that stealth is hardly my strong point I called out. Fortunately for me, they didn't automatically attack the "Evil Devil". Even more fortunately, one of them was Bjorn, a Cleric of Thor that I recognized from Thunderholme Abbey. The rest were the usual motley assortment that makes up an adventuring band. Why do I detect the hand of the Norns in this?

With the help of Bjorn vouching for me I was able to join the band. It turns out that they needed my help to get out of the Feywild as the ritual required Arcane Fire together with a good knowledge of Arcane magic, and the sorceress who had brought them there had mysteriously vanished.

This seems a good place to give my impressions of my new companions:

Bjorn, a Cleric of Thor. What can one say about a Cleric of Thor? Brave, Trustworthy, Perceptive, generally dumb as a brick, and a good person to have by one’s side, as long as one doesn't have to listen to him TOO much.

Belladona – a highly skilled archer- almost certainly a Rogue by profession. I've met her sort many a time before- very, very, very good at killing things. My first impression was that she was something of a coward, but I'm not sure that is true. She definitely likes to stay way back from things and disappear at a moments notice. I have no idea whether or not she can be trusted. In my experience, people like her fall into 1 of 2 categories. Category 1 will betray ANYBODY at the drop of a hat. They tend to either die quickly or rise in power quite quickly. Category 2, choose who they betray with some care. They keep faith with at least some allies (at least as long as the allies aren't a major impediment).  Only time will tell which she is. For the moment, I'm going to trust her no more than she is likely to trust me.

Turak - A minotaur. Not exactly sure what he can do, but I think he has some sort of ties to the primal spirits of the land. He hits stuff fairly hard with his massive maul and tends to knock things down a lot. Even more than Bjorn he seems to think with his weapon. Obviously, he’s a little bit of a savage. Still, he accepted me with no problems at all and that has to count for a lot, definitely worth cultivating his friendship. He also seems to eat only hay and mushrooms. I wonder what that is all about?

Vesna - A female viking warrior. She’s the daughter of the Jarl of Grimmsburg, and very, very definitely somebody worth cultivating a relationship with. She also seems to have a reasonable head on her shoulders, far better than I'd expect most viking shield maidens to have.

At any rate, I performed the ritual, and we all returned from the Fey Wild into a troll infested cavern, which afforded me the opportunity to see something of my new companions abilities.

They're all quite powerful, at least as powerful as I am. But they seem to be insanely prolifigate in the use of their abilities. It would appear that they believe the old saw "Never use a hammer to do a job when you've got a sledgehammer available", and they're quite bloodthirsty. Belladona attacked a sleeping Dire Bear. Yeah, he might have gotten involved but one can hardly be certain, and when some of the trolls tried to surrender the decision was made to kill them all anyway, which I had no problem with, actually. Trolls are vermin and should be exterminated. I was just a little surprised that my new associates agreed.

As can be surmised, this little pack of trolls was no match for us. Vesna went down at one point but she was back up a couple of seconds later due to Bjorn’s divine intervention. Bella hung back and sniped, exceedingly effectively. Note to self- never go against her unless really, really necessary. Turak bellowed and charged and hewed mightily with his maul, and against trolls my fire magics were a quite welcome and a useful addition.

Apparently Belladona is also something of an arcanist. After the battle, she threw a portal ritual and there we were in Grimmsburg, in teleport circle located in a tavern owned by the notorious Victor Starke. Apparently Bella works for Starke.

We next headed over to the home of the Jarl for a touching family reunion. It turns out that my companions had found a letter in the troll caves indicating that somebody wants the Jarl and Starke at each other’s throat. This person seems to think that this will weaken the city enough to make it easy prey for the trolls. It also turns out that Thunderholme Abbey is under siege by giants who are being led by an Earth Titan, and Turak believes that it is the same titan that destroyed his clan labyrinth. In my opinion that threat is pretty clearly our highest priority. 

While conversing with the Jarl, I also got to meet Dean Danzig of the Scarlet Stone Academy again. I admit to mixed feelings about him. At the time, I blamed him for letting them expel me just because I was a Tiefling. But now that I'm older and at least a little wiser I see that he probably saved my life by getting me away from the vengeful family of that poor fool who died in the lab accident. And I guess that under the circumstances I can't complain TOO much.

I went off to see my family while the rest got involved in some diplomatic mission trying to arrange a treaty between Stark and the Jarl, a mission that turned out to be rather, uh, a failure.

Meeting my family again was about exactly as much fun as I expected. Father is still a raging  who is convinced that I've thrown my life away. His reaction on seeing me wearing the symbols of Odin and Uller was priceless. My brother Leucis looked like he'll be hiring my sister Akta to kill me some time soon rather than have me as a rival for the family business (no matter how many times I tell him that I have NO interest in business he never believes me). And unfortunately Killista was out of town with her troupe. At least I got to see mom, which was nice.

The next day we had a big meeting between Stark and the Jarl to see if they could come to some kind of arrangement. The meeting took place at the Jarl’s Hall. Starke arrived in a massive iron carriage pulled by clockwork stallions and accompanied by a half dozen constructs called warforged. The warforged were originally created by my ancestors in Bhal Turath to battle the empire of Arkosia, and as far as I had known the secret of their creation had been lost. It seems that Starke had managed to discover that secret. 
Starke acted very, very strangely. He didn't even try and to negotiate, he just presented the Jarl with a rather absurd ultimatum. The Jarl was to give him 1/2 of what he owned, so that Starke could build an army of warforged that would be under Starke’s exclusive control. In return, Starke would use the warforged to defend the city, and the Jarl could retain his title as the Jarl and continue to rule the city. There was no room to negotiate. When the Jarl didn't pretty much instantly agree (the whole meeting took maybe 10 minutes) Starke attacked with a really impressive, exploding, clockwork pigeon. I'll give Bella credit. She reacted instantly and managed to shoot the pidgeon down while the rest of us were gawking. I guess she showed which side she is really on. Given the resulting boom, I'm pretty certain that the Jarl wouldn't have survived a direct hit. 

Even more suprisingly, Starke then drank a potion and disappeared. He didn't follow through with the attack; he just left. However, he warforged were ready to finish the Jarl off and they moved in to do just that.

I then tossed up a Wall of Fire to stop them. I gotta give Bella credit again- she didn't bitch when she got slightly singed by the fire. The warforged made their way through the fire anyway but were quite damaged in the process. As a result, mopping them up wasn't a big deal. They're reasonably tough but not a whole lot more than that, and they make Vikings look smart .

According to Bella, Starke had a look of surprise and awe on his face when she shot the pigeon and it exploded. I’m not at all sure what that means. The whole thing makes little sense. Maybe Starke has gone mad? Maybe he thought that he was negotiating? If he'd intended to kill the Jarl then why didn't he carry through while we were all reeling from the explosion? Did he WANT to start a civil war? Maybe he was surprised when the pigeon went boom? Nothing really fits. I strongly suspect that we're missing at least one vital bit of knowledge.

Not that it really matters all that much. Now we have a civil war. So much for the Jarl sending troops to relieve the Abbey. I hope that the rest of my new associates still decide to save the Abbey. Turak and Bjorne are likely going to be in favor. But Vesna is likely to want to stay here with her father. I have no idea what Bella is going to want. Presumably she's high on Starks hit list right now.

Hmm. I wonder if this was all some sort of ploy to get Bella really trusted? That sounds like something my father would plan- probably not but worth keeping in mind.


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## PHDungeon (Oct 23, 2010)

This journal picks up where his last one left off. The heroes have returned to Grimmsburg after defeating Skalmed the Troll King. They have discovered tensions high between Victor Starke and Jarl Surtur. In the last session “Starke” (there is some debate among the Pcs as to whether the man even was Starke) had a meeting in the Jarl’s hall and gave him an ultimatum. When the Jarl didn’t readily accept, Starke tried to kill him with a devastating, exploding, clockwork bird, and then used magic to make an escape. Bella foiled the attempt, by shooting the bird down before it reached the jarl, though it still caused great injury to him and many of his men. It seems that the fight is not yet over…

Melek’s Journal:

After having defeated the immediate threat, we only had a very small respite before the sounds of combat came from the courtyard.

Rushing outside, we found a large number of warforged fighting the troops of the Jarl. Alongside the warforged were a number of clockwork hounds as well.

We rapidly joined the battle and were fairly instrumental in ending it reasonably quickly and efficiently. One average warforged is superior to a viking warrior, even one who is a member of the Jarl's personal guard, but is no match for my new companions or for myself.

I was relatively ineffective in this fight since the warforged and my viking allies were too interspersed and since the Warforged are likely immune to my most damaging magics. Still, "relatively ineffective" hardly means useless. Fortunately the monstrosities were foolish enough to attack my flaming aura in an attempt to kill me, and do much harm themselves in the process.

Bella was her usual killing machine, sending in bolts of death from a distance, an effective (if rather cowardly) approach. Turak stayed inside to make sure that it wasn't all a distraction (or, at least, to make sure that the distraction would fail). Vesna spent the entire fight in the midst of the great melee, hacking and slashing at Starke’s warforged with her enchanted blade. Bjorn ended up coming into the fight before we did, having arrived from the Temple of Thor. He had been absent from the negotiations with Starke on other business, and his arrival was quite timely to say the least. Say what you want about Thor, but his priests can certainly fight, and do a fine job of inspiring and aiding their allies. Despite taking a couple of significant blows, I ended up the fight less injured than I was when I started thanks to Bjorn’s divine healing powers. He truly is in Thor’s favor.

The warforged were coming in from a teleportation circle inscribed on the floor of Starke's coach, an interesting (if rather expensive) way of getting troops into the castle. I'm still wondering to what end, though. Surely Stark couldn’t have expected such paltry numbers to win? Even if we had not been present the Jarl would have been able to easily flee. Of course, had we not been there, he would surely have been obliterated by the exploding bird and the majority of his personal guard would likely have been cut down, so perhaps I don’t give Starke enough credit.

Although I didn't hear it myself, Bjorn later revealed that he saw one of the Warforged collapse and whimper for his mommy in a child like voice. It seems highly likely that the souls of youths are being used in the construction of the monstrosities. Starke is a naughty man, deserving of punishment.

After the battle we did the usual stuff. I put out fires that had just happened to start in the jarl’s hall (amazing how often that happens near me), Bjorn and Vesna tended to the wounded, Turak took a piss and Bella disappeared.

Then came the discussion as to what we should do next. Apparently the teleport circle at Thunderhome Abbey is no longer functional. Unfortunately, that indicates that the Abbey has fallen. It certainly means that getting there will take longer and be considerably more dangerous.

Vesna seems obsessed with the idea of building her own Warforged. This makes me pretty nervous. Even if we can find the ritual and even if it is learnable by a non-artificer (both of which seem fairly unlikely) we'd be presented with the problem of getting the jewels and forging the bodies. Oh, yes, not to mention getting the souls into the bodies; I should consider that as well. And all that ignores the possibility that there is some ritual known only to Starke that can take control of Warforged.

Warforged helping to defend the city was a reasonable idea had some kind of accommodation could have been made between Stark and the Jarl, but it is too late for that.

I'll give Vesna credit though, she convinced the Jarl to train all the peasants and to get the local militias into some form of order. I'm not sure if she sees that as useful against Starke, but it will definitely help against the giants should they come at Grimmsburg. 

After some discussion of alternatives that could not possibly work (eg, keeping Stark besieged), we decided that the only reasonable course was to try and go into Starke’s fortress and kill him. Bella knows a fair bit about the layout, so we have at least a small chance of success. 

The Scarlet Academy is willing to give us some material aid, as is the temple of Odin. We're the only ones willing to risk our lives, though. Typical.

We have a cunning plan involving a passwall ritual, invisibility potions and the like. I bet they won't even survive our making it to his lair, which occupies the entirety of a man made island in the filthy district of the city that is known as the Styes. 

We all seem to be going for different reasons. Bella seems to have been personally insulted by Starke attacking the Jarl the way that he did. Vesna, of course, wants to avenge an attack on her father. I’m not really sure why Turak and Bjorn are going along, I'd have expected them both to be off for Thunderhome, but I suppose they have some loyalty to Bella and Vesna. As for me, well I need to cement my relationship with my new allies. More importantly, sacrificing the souls of innocents to create warforged is just WRONG and has to be stopped, and the odds of Thunderhome not already having been destroyed seem low.

I just hope that my new associates know when to fight and when to run. Because running early, quickly and often might be the only way that we survive this, that or actually succeeding in killing Starke.


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## PHDungeon (Oct 28, 2010)

This is Melek's 3rd journal:

You've got to love it when things go pretty much to plan. I just wish that happened more often.

We cast the ritual magic that would allow us to operate underwater and approach Starke’s island fortress from polluted waters of the Grimmsburg harbor. As we arrived, we were attacked by a small pack of oversized, clockwork eels, presumably created by Starke. These weren't really that much of a threat, and we quickly dispatched them before they could raise the alarm. Even with the ritual magic allowing us to fight underwater my vaunted fire magics were somewhat negatively affected but not to any huge extent, and I still managed to make myself useful in the battle.

Next, I cast a ritual to allow us to locate the Hat of Disguise that Starke frequently wears, in hopes that we could pin point his location in the sprawling complex. Fortunately, the ritual worked, and it appeared that Starke was not terribly far from us.

We then cast a passwall ritual that instantly created a tunnel into the compound, which we directed towards where we believed he would be found. The harbor water of course rushed into the tunnel. We were swept into the bottom level of Starke’s lair in a great flow of water. As anticipated, the water even knocked out at least one ward spell.

We found ourselves knee deep in water, in a room with a permanent teleport circle inscribed in the floor. Bella wanted to spend some time studying the circle, but when I pointed out that we had to get to Starke quickly she agreed.

After a quite short trip we found ourselves at a set of large doors. Our detection ritual indicated that Starke was likely behind them. The doors were made of metal and locked with a complex gear lock that was built right into the door. Bella then tried to use her thievery skills to open the doors. She failed miserably with the result being a large explosion, as she triggered an undetected ward. I thought I was far enough away but, alas, I was not. I suffered some injuries, but thanks to Bjorn’s healing powers, I recovered quickly.

As I mentioned, the door mechanism was an intricate puzzle of gears, so I gave Bella some tips on opening it. She ignored those tips and followed her intuition. Good thing the ward only went off the once. Still, the third time is the charm. Bella managed to open the door. Confronting us was a line of Warforged who somehow had been alerted to our presence (I wonder if the ward going off had anything to do with that ). Behind the warforged was a huge laboratory where Starke and a band of dwarven lab assistants were obviously trying to make a massive war forged, one at least as large as a giant. 4 people were strapped to tables showing us that life forces or souls are clearly part of Starke’s process. 

Mayhem then ensued. Fortunately, my Wall of Fire spell gave the warforged an unpleasant choice- stay where they were and burn in my flames or fall back, thus allowing us access to the room. They chose the latter.

Starke’s immediate counters of a cloud of toxic gas and some silly swarm of clockwork bees weren't particularly effective. Actually, that isn't at all fair to my companions, especially not to Bjorn. Starke’s attacks were plenty dangerous, and without his healing magics we would have all perished. Thor is especially good at keeping those doing his business up on their feet.

After some time hacking through the warforged that were still clustered near the entrance, we managed to force our way fully into the laboratory. Turak went into what was essentially single combat with a dwarven artificer, while Vesna and Bjorn were embroiled in combat with the warforged. Bella went after Starke, and I went after targets of opportunity as they presented themselves. A bunch of idiotic dwarven lab helpers were foolish enough to throw themselves into the fray to fight and to die, for we were showing no mercy to Starke’s allies.

The battle proceeded, as we were forced to waste time dealing with Starke’s minions. Then Bella pulled out all of the stops and tried to kill Starke with a flurry of frost bolts from her crossbow. She wasn't anywhere near as effective as she hoped, for his clockwork armor was damn tough to penetrate, but she did manage to significantly weaken him. Starke struck back with a massive blast of lightning unleashed from his armor, knocking both Turak and myself off our feet. It felt like it almost killed me, but I was somehow still alive. I found myself lying on the ground surrounded by Starke’s minions who were eager to kick a down tiefling. Fortunately, my shield was just enough to save my ass from their barrage of attacks, and soon I once again felt Bjorn’s healing powers wash over me.

I crawled to my feet, and it was my turn. I'm loathe to admit how much my diabolic heritage relishes putting the hurt on those already suffering. But it does. And it does so quite effectively. I cursed Starke and unleashed a storm of magical fury upon him. It was still not enough to kill Starke, but it was enough to make him regret his decision not to flee when he had the opportunity. Turak had finished off the dwarven artificer and was now upon him, and thanks to the aid of Turak’s spirit allies and a well placed bolt from Bella, Starke would not be making an easy escape.

Turak finished off what Bella and I had started. Bravely ignoring the crackling lightning that was now streaming from Starke’s armor, Turak strode forward, suffered the pain and put Stark out of his (and our) misery with a mighty blow from his maul.

The clean up after that was swift, as Bjorn and Vesna brought down the remaining warforged.

Then a very interesting thing occurred. In a room attached to the lab we discovered a sentient Warforged from the southern lands, a warforged whose existence dates back to the lost empire of my people. He had been locked in a cage by Starke, and presumably Starke had been using him to “reverse engineer” the lost art of warforged creation. It transpired that he'd been betrayed by Bella (imagine my shock and surprise) and sold by her to Starke. He wasn't happy about that, and wanted little more than to track down and kill Bella. He also seemed to automatically treat me with a considerable amount of respect and deference. Which, I must admit, made a very welcome change from the usual way that my kind are seen.

If time and opportunity allows I have to try and pick his brains, if he has such a thing. He'll have a unique perspective on so many things, combined with knowledge of many things long forgotten.

Fortunately, warforged don't seem to be all that bright and he bought into Bella’s  that she had no choice, fearing for her life if she didn't deliver the warforged to Starke. While I don't really doubt that it would have made things uncomfortable for Bella, I'm pretty sure that she had lots of other options and did what she did at least as much for the riches that it gained her as from fear of Stark.

He wishes to return home. Unfortunately (albeit not surprisingly), he doesn't know the make up of any teleport circles there.  And I certainly don't trust what the Scarlet Academy will do if they find out about him. Apparently they were also seeking him when Bella betrayed him. I’m not sure if they knew that he was sentient, and I’m not sure that they'd care.

It’s not clear what we're going to do with him. For the moment, at least, we don't have to worry about it. First we need to look through the fortress and make sure that there are no more significant enemies here, particularly on this level. We will also be sure to take the time to more thoroughly explore this lower level. Bella claims it is Starke’s personal sanctuary, and she thinks he likely stores many of arcane secrets and worldly wealth down here. We are eager to find all the interesting and valuable items before soldiers of the Jarl come in grabbing and smashing everything in sight.


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## PHDungeon (Oct 31, 2010)

Unfortunately, I have not journal entries for this session. Here’s a brief synopsis: The Pcs spent the game session searching the lower level of Starke’s lair (the one they encountered him on). They found many hidden vaults and chambers where Starke stored various valuable raw materials and personal wealth, which they of course filled their bag of holding with. They encountered a number of traps and more construct guardians, including an iron golem that was guarding his main treasure vault. They were also able to find all the ritual notes Starke had written on warforged creation, which did indeed confirm that living souls had to be sacrificed and bound into each warforged to give the warforged sentience. Clearly this was why Starke had been buying up gemstones and slaves. 

They also removed Starke’s custom clockwork armor and mask. Bella considered taking the mask, but decided against it when she realized that it would likely permanently fuse to her face. Beneath the armor and mask, they found that Starke was actually a tiefling. His tail had been amputated and his horns filed down, allowing him to wear the gear. They had also found Starke’s personal chapel, which was dedicated to the archdevil Dispater, indicating that Starke was secretly a devil worshipper.

Using Starke’s mask as proof of his demise, they made their way into the upper levels of the lair. With the help of the mask, the odd spell, crossbow bolt or blow from a hammer, they were able to intimidate Starke’s men with ease. Most fled or surrendered, but a few were stupid enough to fight and die swift deaths. The heroes also discovered more warforged on these levels; some had gone berserk and were slaughtering anyone in their path. These ones had to be put down. Others had gone catatonic or were writhing on the ground and insanely muttering to themselves. A rare few seemed to have retained sanity and become free willed. These ones were able to communicate with the heroes, and they demonstrated the potential to make useful allies. Unlike the warforged Karn, these modern warforged showed no particular deference towards Melek.

Victorious, the heroes reported back to Jarl Surtur. Bella remained behind to start the lengthy process of ensuring that she would be the one to fill the power vacuum that Starke’s death had created within Grimmsburg’s Underworld.

There next move is to go on a recon mission to Thunderholme abbey to see if it has in fact been sacked by giants or if there is a chance that it can still be saved.


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## PHDungeon (Nov 7, 2010)

The following sessions begin to integrate some of the story from the Revenge of the Giants adventure- with significant changes to better fit this campaign and my style of dming.

PCs
Melek: Level 12 tiefling Wizard/Warlock
Bjorn: Level 12 human cleric of Thor
Bella: Level 13 changeling Rogue/sorceress
Turok: Level 12 minotaur warden
Vesna: Level 12 human warlord

This is Melek’s next journal:

After finishing off Stark and taking over ownership of his fortress we all thought it necessary to attend to some quick personal business. I managed to pick up a couple more very useful rituals and even a minor magic item. The Jarl was quite generous in rewarding me by having the Scarlet Stone Academy further enhance my enchanted amulet. I’m quickly discovering that being a hero defending the city pays very well. And it all is presumably Odin's will. At the least, I've seen no omens suggesting that I should change course. But I must admit that the most satisfying aspect of serving the city is proving to all those bastards at the academy that I am a very powerful hero with connections to the local powers. I bet that they now wish that they hadn't expelled me on mere suspicion so that my recent glories would be better reflecting on the Academy. Hopefully I'll eventually gain enough power that I'll be able to properly avenge the dishonor they have caused me.

I joined with my companions visiting some drip or other that they'd previously adventured with. His name was Derren Androsax, a local noble of a languishing house. Apparently, his sister had also adventured with Bjorn and company, and she had been claimed by Loki’s fire shortly before I met them. They rightly felt it their duty to bring this news to the Androsax scion. We found him sparring with his brother at his family’s estate in the noble district. He took the news about as well as could be expected, though he brother was quite upset and berated Derren for entrusting the girl’s care to Bella. Fools. What did they expect would happen if they left Bella to care for a child? I can’t imagine a woman less fit to be a mother.

I also learned that Derren had married Vesna’s younger sister Briannah, the High Archavist of the Skaldsholme library, an impressive feat. One that I’m surprised this lad was able to accomplish, for he is clearly a buffoon. However, he does seem to love her. He was quite concerned for her health. Apparently, she was kidnapped by cultists last summer, and the experience was quite horrific and traumatizing for her. She has now refused to go back north with the Androsax lad, which is clearly where he wants to be, and she has shut herself in the library, devoting herself entirely to researching the foul cult that abducted her. I fear that such a path can only lead to further pain and suffering. Derren is certainly worried about her, and seems to think that Vesna might be able to help her, though I can’t see her being very good at such a delicate task.

Ideally, we would have liked to spend more time attending to personal business and resting from our recent adventures, but the threat to Thunderholme Abbey was most pressing, and the others finally agreed that the time had come to investigate, an agenda I had been pushing for days. Well, some of us agreed to this course of action. Bella was far more concerned with cementing her position as Starke’s replacement and Vesna was more interested attending to her family and preparing the city for war. No surprise there. 

Thus, Bjorn, Turok and myself decided to do some reconnaissance on our own. First we used a linked portal ritual to travel to an arcane curio shop in the town of Saltmarsh, which was the closest major town to the abbey. There we met one of my former teachers- a buffoon and apparently a coward. The people of Saltmarsh were well aware of their proximity to an army of giants and were preparing for the worst. It looked like he was going to save his own loot and flee without even trying to defend the town. Oh, he may have planned on making a token appearance on the wall but he was clearly going to look after himself first.

The Jarl of the town, one Harald Bloodhair, was a very different matter. He had sent off a large expedition under his son to investigate what was happening at the Abbey and to provide support. They had not yet returned and the Jarl feared the worst. The Jarl asked us to try and recover the lad’s body and his ancestral sword. We agreed to the task, as it certainly doesn’t hurt to have more friends among the jarls of the north.

Although we had little hope at this point, we set out fairly late that afternoon on summoned spiritual giant eagles- one of the rituals I had learned. There was something incredibly exhilarating about flying through the air and seeing the world laid out below. All our petty troubles and squabbles were put into perspective. Apparently neither of my companions agreed or shared my pleasure. Minotaurs belong on the ground. You'd think a cleric of Thor would appreciate flying through the sky. You would however be wrong (admittedly there was no storm, but one can't have everything). Our flight covered about 20 miles.

We got to the Abbey and unfortunately found more or less what we expected. The Abbey had fallen. The Abbey itself sat on a narrow spit of land, sandwiched between the sea and the Dawnforge Mountains. We first flew up to the sacred cave on Stormspire Peak. The abbey was built at the base of this mountain centuries ago because the mountain was sacred to the gods and believed to be a place where one could more easily communicate with them and discern their will. The priests had for ages been making the trek up the peak along a treacherous trail to the sacred cave where they would attempt to commune with the gods. We found some foul ceremony had been performed here involving a huge pile of naked corpses and the bloody symbol of The King the Crawls painted on to the rock face. The entrance to the cave itself had been collapsed. Our small hope that there might be survivors inside was quickly squashed when Turak called upon the mountain’s spirits to carry him beneath the earth and up into the cave. He found the altar smashed and desecrated, but no survivors.

We then went down to investigate the ruins of the abbey. There was a small band of scavengers poking about the rubble- a few Orcs, together with a handful of Hill Giants led by a female Hill Giant shaman. Not surprisingly, violence ensued. Despite our numbers being low we managed to fairly efficiently defeat them. For the first time in a long time my Stinking Cloud was very useful, as were the healing prayers to Thor cast by Bjorn. By Thor, can that man keep a party alive and healthy through a battle. Praise be to the son of Odin. Of course, Turak was also the fierce killing machine one would expect. He fearlessly lunged into battle against a pair of towering hill giants, hewing and smashing with his maul and goring with his horns when the opportunity arose. Still, I'm quite certain that I did at least my share as well- the Stinking Cloud did its job wonderfully at keeping the enemies separated, blind and choking to death. We received our share of injuries, but thanks to the gods and spirits we were able win the fight and heal our wounds.

After the dust of battle settled all of the giants and orcs were dead except for two hill giant prisoners. One was the shaman, and both readily succumbed to my Arcane Mutterings.

We more or less confirmed our expectations. We learned that the giants are led by an Earth Titan called Volgrum- the same one who destroyed Turak’s home. Their army consists of several hundred giants and several hundred orcs. The giants are mostly hill giants led by the mate of our shaman captive, but there are also said to be some stone giant clans among them. They had razed and pillaged the abbey and taken several captives. It is possible that Jarl Bloodhair’s son survives, and it is all but certain that his sword is in the hands of some high-ranking giant or even Volgrum himself. It was made plain to us that their plans are to descend on Saltmarsh in a few days. 

We also found out that the giants had looted some kind of magic item/relic (or part of one) from a hidden chamber underneath the Abbey. Perhaps the survivors of the Abbey will know more. We investigated the chamber, but found no real clues to tell us what had been stolen. Certainly both Bjorn and I had not known the chamber existed, but clearly the giants had been aware of it, and it may well have been one of the primary reasons they had targeted the abbey.

Being of no use to us anymore, we then separated the shaman from her head. 
After that we again mounted our eagles and took to the sky. We flew north into the mountains in search of the giant army. They did not prove to be difficult to locate. Under the cover of night, we quickly scouted out their camp from the air. It occupied a high mountain valley with but a single pass leading up to it. There was a steading at the far end of the valley, which was built directly into the mountainside. We are pretty certain that it holds their leaders, and is where Volgrum will be found. The reports we had gotten from the captured shaman were true- there were hundreds of them, enough to easily crush Saltmarsh and threaten Grimmsburg.

We have since returned home and must now decide what to do. We need to find out more about the relic that was stolen if at all possible, I believe we should launch some kind of attempt to kill Volgrum. Turok is all for this idea. Alternatively, we might try and set up an ambush of the entire army, but that seems like a course of action that would result in the loss of many skanzi lives. Whatever course of action we take, we must decide on it quickly, for the giants will soon be on the move with a titan marching at the front of their army.


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## PHDungeon (Nov 13, 2010)

The Steading of the Hill Giant King:

Melek's journal:

Well, as the man who fell off the Giant Eagle said on the way to meeting the ground, "So far, so good".

I'm really not at all sure what possessed me to go along on this mission to assassinate an Earth Titan, especially given that it was surrounded by an army of Giants. I suspect that "possessed" may actually be the right term for it. Whatever fey power it was that had recently allowed me to learn rituals and gave me insight into the ways of nature may well have been behind it. Or perhaps it was my longing to prove my worth and redeem myself that was responsible. Or maybe my desire to revenge myself on the destroyers of the only home I've experienced for the last dozen years. At any rate, I really don't expect to survive this particular adventure. At least I got to say goodbye to my little sister before leaving. 

We still do not know what it was that was hidden under the Abbey. Apparently the Abbey is quite ancient and built upon the ruins of buildings older still. It is interesting that the titan seemed to know of the contents. Whatever it is, I suspect it must be of significant importance.

In all Councils of War one has to pretend to pay attention to people of much less intelligence than oneself. But a council of war where almost all of the participants are hung over is definitely a joy to be experienced. This was the case at the council I attended just before we left Grimmsburg. Both Jarl Sutur and High Cannon Ericson were thoroughly hung over from the great feast that had taken place the night before- the one we had missed out on to do our scouting of the abbey. Fortunately, there was not really that much to discuss, so their condition hardly mattered. The outcome of the council was no surprise- send us off on a nearly hopeless mission to slay the Earth Titan. Presumably they're hoping that we at least do enough damage to slow thing and its army down. Or maybe the Gods will be with us and we'll manage to slay the Titan before we ourselves perish at the hands of a horde of enraged giants.

Dean Danzig's inspirational speech left little doubt that he is a Wizard and not a Bard. A very intelligent man it is true, but he clearly leads the college because of his intellect and power and not because of the force of his personality. 

So it was that Bjorn, Turak and I, this time with Bella as well, used a linked portal ritual to once again travel to Saltmarsh. After informing Jarl Bloodhair that we intended to destroy the titan, we proceeded to the giants’ steading on the backs of more summoned Giant Eagles. We landed on the roof under the cover of darkness and a conjured storm. We were able to make our way through a smoke hole into the rafters of the steading with little difficulty. The giants were quite obviously very bored, and after seeing how the giants treat their goblin "allies," I've determined to not allow myself to be captured- better to die in combat than to be used as the ball in one of their crude games.

Inside the steading, the giants were very obviously not expecting much trouble, but, unfortunately, were mounting a reasonably good watch. There were well over a dozen giants in the part of the steading that was constructed outside the mountain and an unknown number within whatever chambers and tunnels they had carved into the mountain itself.

Belladonna and her familiar scouted ahead somewhat, revealing that our quarry was mostly likely somewhere within the mountain itself, though she did not explore deep enough to determine exactly where. There was only one open gate leading from the steading structure into the deeper chambers that had been cut into the mountainside. A pair of stone giants and several hill giants were in the common hall that held the gate. Fortunately, all were in a drunken sleep- all but one stone giant. Several more hill giants were lurking in nearby chambers, but they too were for the most part sleeping.

We decided upon a plan that has the small virtue of being less awful than all of the other plans we considered. Belladonna would sneak up to the door, and I would then change places with her by the magic revealed to me by my Fey mentor. Then, between that magic and some divine magic granted to Bjorn we would, with a great deal of luck, be able to silently get everybody into the hallway inside the mountain. From there we would be able to bar the gate and seal out the giants that infested the main portion of the steading.

Unfortunately, luck was not with us. I'm a Wizard and a Warlock, well known for my arcane prowess. Unfortunately, I'm less famous for my stealth. Belladonna fulfilled her role perfectly and got me to the door. But as I tried to open it I managed to make enough noise to rouse a Hill Giant. I'd had the foresight to use my Hat of Disguise to disguise myself as an Orc and that was enough to fool the idiot of a Hill Giant. Unfortunately, the Stone Giant wasn't quite so stupid as to believe that an Orc would come into the steading to empty a chamberpot. All hell broke loose.

In the ensuing fight we managed to slay a couple of giants in the steading proper and make our way into the mountain, barring the door behind us. The giants started to try to batter open the doors, but they were well constructed of heavy logs and designed to withstand their massive kind. The task was not proving easy for them and would take time. 

The ruckus we had created drew the attention of several giants residing inside the mountain, and we soon found ourselves in battle with the Hill Giant Chief, a small band of his giant allies and his pet dire tiger. All the while, the giants in the steading proper continued to batter at the doors. The fight was reasonably quick. It took a little time before the Hill Giants thought that it might be better to unbar the door than to fight with us and a little longer still before they remembered that there was a second smaller but completely undefended door at the other end of the U shaped hall that would also allow their allies to enter. Though through tremendous effort on Bjorn’s part we had been able to keep them from unbarring the main door, there was nothing we were able to do to stop a pair of them from getting to the smaller door. As they were throwing off the bar to that door, and as the other giants finally battered down the main door, we finished off the Hill Giant Chief. It had taken many of our most potent spells and resources to win the fight, and we were in no condition to take on the massive force of enemies that was suddenly surging towards us. I urge my allies to rush ahead of me into a tunnel leading even deeper into the mountain. I hung back and cast a stinking cloud spell that I hoped would slow down the giants. I then fled into a tunnel, concentrating on sustaining my spell and moving it along behind me to cover our retreat. I wasn’t at all certain if it would be enough to deter our enemies, but it helped that the giants immediately discovered the body of their dead chief, for at that point a huge argument erupted among them about who would take the chief’s place. Still, I could hear several giants pursuing us into the wide tunnel, which was clearly sloping downward deep into the earth. I kept moving down the tunnel, maintaining the spell and praying to Odin for his blessing.


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## PHDungeon (Nov 27, 2010)

The final battle with Volgrum the Titan, in which one of our most beloved heroes perishes.

Bella's journal...

Session 33:  Hero is a synonym for Suicidal Idiot

My back rests against the cold stone wall of the cavern.  My heart is thundering in my ears as I take deep breaths and try to calm myself.  Had the giants followed us we surely would have died, however Melek’s stinking cloud spell and their natural laziness has benefited us with a brief respite.  I quietly thank Odin for this blessing.

The situation is dire.

A Stone giant and his minions await us in a giant cavern below.  There are no signs of any exits.  There is also the added worry that the giants above, perhaps fearing later reprisals for allowing us down here, will come down to join the fight.  These are only the visible threats. I have no doubt that several surprises await us in the coming fight.  As long as the giants remain above we stand a chance, but I do not like the odds. 

Moments ago, I had grimly suggested that we cast a link portal while we can and get out, perhaps to try again another time. I was flatly turned down and heard Melek mutter something about cowardice under his breath.  The teifling believes that now is the best chance we have at accomplishing what we came to do, unfortunately the others agreed.  I knew I could have run right then, started casting the ritual while they fought the enemies below.  No one could have stopped me.  Not being a hero, part of me wanted to leave these fools to their fate.  Yet I decided to stay.  Bjorn is having a negative effect on my sense of self-preservation.

The battle starts typically enough.  Melek and I creep forward and survey our foes from the shadows of the tunnel we are in.  The tunnel opens into a large cavern, but the ground is 30 feet below us and there is a ramp descending into the cavern along the wall to the right.  The cave itself has only a couple of occupants- a stone giant and two small grey skinned humanoids. I think they may be called Norkers. I had already been watching them for a while. The giant had been hard at work chiseling a symbol of the dreaded Elemental Eye into a massive roughly “Eye” shaped stone that was resting on sturdy stone plinth. He had heard the giants shouting to Melek further up the tunnel, and when that had happened he and his two assistants had hurried to duck behind the altar. Their skins blended in well with the stone, but I had seen them and warned my companions. 

There are a couple of other features in the room I should mention. One is a second altar. This one centered on a particularly ghastly looking stalagmite covered with symbols of Torog and surrounded by a pile of rotting corpses. The other thing I notice is a large pile of treasure, likely taken from the abbey, piled at the back end of the cave.

I spot an excellent place to hide behind a large stalagmite, but my concentration is broken by Turak and Bjorn giving a great battlecry and charging down the ramp.  I am rendered speechless for a moment, but I quickly realize that their foolish act will not only draw our enemies to the ramp but also give me the distraction I need to reach cover.

Acting purely on instinct, I leap off the edge and use the wall to slow my fall, rolling along the ground at the bottom with only slightly less grace than I had intended.  Fortunately, it is only a minor injury, and I am able to reach my cover.

To our misfortune, we discover that the Stone Giant is trained in rune magic, and he is able to cast a spell on both the cleric and the warden as they reach the bottom of the ramp.  A glowing, arcane rune glides through the air, hovering over the pair, and its dark power freezes them in placer.  Melek decides to remain on the ramp rather than risk the drop, this proves to be an unfortunate choice on his part, for the ground suddenly begins to quake around him and two elementals of earth and stone rise up out of the ground to surround him.  From two ledges on opposite ends of the chamber strange, rock creatures reveal themselves and start throwing stone projectiles at my companions.  It does not look good for us, but when does it ever look good for us?

It is both fortunate and unfortunate that the Stone Giant decides to walk forward to battle our immobilized melee fighters.  If he had decided to throw stones they would have been helpless to retaliate.  Moving in gives both Turak and Bjorn a chance to hurt their enemy before shrugging off the effects of the magic. 

Then it happens, from the back of the cavern a section of wall shifts and walks forward. The creature is massive and looks like a walking hillside. It is Volgrum the Earth Titan. In his deep rumbling voice he starts shouting to us that he will see that we die here in glorious battle, but that our souls will not go on to Asgard. Instead, he claims that Torog will take them. I can’t help but wince when he says the name of the dark god. It is said to be very dangerous to attract his attention, for he is trapped in lightless caves and tunnels deep beneath the earth, which means that he is free to interact directly with mortals, making him that much more dangerous than most gods.

I put thoughts of Torog out of my mind and focus on the task at hand. I target my bolts upon the Stone Giant first.  Luckily, he has already been wounded enough for me to able to take him out with a few shots. Melek had cursed the giant, and when he falls it enables the teifling to teleport away from the elementals.  Perhaps Melek was addled by the bruises he had sustained from the elementals, for I cannot believe it when he runs up to Turak and Bjorn to engage the Earth Titan.  If that be bravery I want no part of it.

From my quiet corner I rain death upon our foes.  Seeing the danger in the unreachable stone men who continue to pummel my companions, I focus my fire upon them.  In the center of the cavern the huge altar of the Elemental Eye provides some cover for my companions.  I am able to destroy most of the Titan’s forces leaving the Titan himself our only difficulty. Turak had been holding his own against his massive foe, bravely engaging it directly with his mighty maul. Time and again the titan smashed him with his fists or sent him sprawling across the stone floor. Thanks to Bjorn’s healing powers he still managed to live, and with the help of the Thor’s blessings, the spirits of the earth and Melek’s arcane power, they had been chiseling away at the dreadful titan.

The battle is just turning in our favor when tremors start to shake the cavern.  They emanate from Torog’s shrine, and I watch horrified as the floor opens up and a chasm starts snaking its way across the ground.  The altar falls away as a gaping hole forms beneath it, and I watch as the hole grows wider and wider at an alarming rate. I can feel the hunger of the King that Crawls, and it seems as if he wants to devour the entire cavern.

Not wanting my escape route cut off I scurry across the battlefield to the base of the ramp.  As I make my way up to the relative safety of the tunnel mouth I fire bolt after bolt at the Titan.  We did not finish him however, and the chasm appears to be making its way towards him. It is as if Torog is seeking out his servant. The titan’s face is hard to read, but I can see what looks like fear on it. And when the chasm reaches him, the ground itself opens up and swallows our enemy. He manages to catch onto the edge, but Melek blasts him with a spell and forces him to lose his grip, and I watch as our mark plummets down into the darkness.  It is time to get out of here. Melek appears to agree with me, for he comes running up the ramp soon after I reach the top.  Bjorn and Turak however do not.  They instead run to the treasure pile at the back of the cavern as I provided cover fire against the couple rockmen that remain up on their ledges.  As fast as they are able, they grab what they can and start run back. I know that Bjorn was looking for that mysterious relic taken from the abbey, and Turak was looking for the tablets stolen from his labyrinth. Neither of the artifacts seem to be there, for they come back with only a belt and some chainmale.

Unfortunately for them the chasm never stops growing, and it cuts them off from escape.  There is no way to reach the bottom of the ramp, so they made their way towards us.  Fortunately, Melek has the presence of mind to fix a rope so that they would be able to climb up.

It was then the unthinkable happens.  Bjorn slips and falls into the widening fissure.  He throws his hammer and grabs onto the edge in desperation and catches himself.  Hanging over certain damnation he screams at us to run.  Believing that he could pull himself up and still make it to the rope we follow his command.  Melek is able to recover his hammer with his mage hand spell, and Turak climbs up the rope.  Just as the minotaur gets to the top, Bjorn, trying to scramble up the loose earth, loses his grip and falls.

I have a moment of shocked silence as I watch my longest and truest companion fall into the darkness.  We do not have time to contemplate his fate, as the danger has not passed.  The fissure is still widening and we have to get out of this cursed place.

We realize when we reach the upper level that the giants have the same idea and we are able to escape in the ensuing chaos.  Melek calls the spirit eagles and I watch our fourth eagle fly into the distance bereft of its charge instead of watching the giants’ fortress sink into the earth.  Torog’s wrath is terrible, for not only does he swallow up the steading, but he takes with it the entire valley and along with that they entire giant army. It is a terrible sight to behold, and I almost feel pity for the giants. We watch for several moments. and then with heavy hearts we fly back to Grimmsburg.


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## PHDungeon (Dec 19, 2010)

Melek's Journal- Answers to Questions.

After getting onto the backs of the giant eagles we watched for awhile as the entire valley collapsed into earth, pulling with it the whole of the giant army. Oh, I'm sure that there will be a few survivors, but that particular threat is vanquished. One could almost feel a little bit of pity for them. Well, if they hadn't destroyed Thunderholme Abbey one could.

We proceeded from the valley back to Saltmarsh where we told the populace the "good" news- the giant threat was no more and that, unfortunately, the Jarl’s son was almost certainly dead. At least we'd managed to find the lad’s ancestral sword and return that.

There was a lot of muttering from the townspeople. Many of them don't really believe that we did what we said we did. It doesn't really help when your choice of spokesman is a Minotaur, a Tiefling or a Crime lord. And our coming back without even the body of the only person in our group that they probably trusted with an outlandish story didn’t make it any better. I'll give Jarl Bloodhair credit; at least he gave us a reasonable reward (albeit one far below the actual value, I'm sure) for the sword that we recovered.

We warned them to be very careful in visiting the valley and advised the Jarl to post some sentries there. Who knows what may come out from the pit?

We then returned to Grimmsburg with our news. I expressed to Canon Wulgrim my concern that the King that Crawls may now be in possession of Bjorn’s soul. He promised to see if he could find out if this was true, but he didn't seem particularly optimistic that he'd get a clear answer. In fact, he didn't really seem all that concerned either, although perhaps I do him an injustice by that. 

In Grimmsburg we found our numbers augmented by a Priest of Odin. One that I'd never met before. His name is Corvin, and he is an Androsax. He is the brother of Deryl, the girl consumed by Loki’s fire and Derren, the man in Grimsburg that Bella treated with such contempt. It’s far too soon to know much about him, but there seems to be a certain tension between him and Bella. I think that he might blame her for the loss of his sister, since she had been in Bella’s custody at the time of her demise.

After a brief respite to recover from our injuries we decided that what we needed most was more information. 

We (including Wulgrim) traveled back to the chamber under Thunderholme where the relic had been held. There I cast a ritual called Whispers of the Edifice that allowed us to question the room itself. From the room we learned that the Abbey itself had been built over the secret room, a room holding one fifth of an ancient artifact known as The Divine Engine of Odin. 

At Canon Wulgrim’s request, we then proceeded to fly back to the remnants of the giant stronghold. We found a massive sinkhole where the valley had once been. It was very deep, and the bottom was covered by a thin, putrid mist. There were no signs of any portal to hell or strange creatures coming out of the ground, but I could feel the touch of a malignant god at work, and we could hear the keening calls of what may have been those suffering in his torture dens rising up out fissures at the bottom of the terrible pit.

When we got back to Grimmsburg, we decided it was time to, basically, hit the books and see if we could determine what was going on. So we went to the Skaldsholme Library where we found Briannah, the head librarian and an old associate of our group and the sister in law to our newfound ally, to be in great, great distress. Driven nearly insane by the turmoil of past abuses inflicted on her by cultists, she was totally neglecting herself in the quest for knowledge about the Cult of Elemental Eye. She claimed to be researching the cult, so that she would better know her enemy. I hope that is true. It should also be noted that she is a younger sister of Vesna and daughter of Jarl Surtur. I wonder if the jarl is aware of how bad her condition has become.

Spearheaded primarily by Corvin, we actually managed to get her into something approximating reasonable shape, while simultaneously using the library to research the Divine Engine and the tablets that had been stolen from Turak’s people. The process took many long weeks, and it reminded me of my days back at the Scarlet Stone Academy. Odin helped us with the Hand of Fate pointing to the more useful books.

There was much to be learned about Odin’s Divine Engine. We discovered that it was a powerful artifact created by the gods during the Dawn War to imprison a mighty primordial known as Y’mir. Y’mir is said to be creator of the giants and was a terrible enemy of the Aesir. They used the device to imprison Y’mir in the Elemental Chaos, and after the deed was done, Thor shattered the engine with his hammer. It broke into five pieces, and the pieces were scattered to the five planes. The one that ended up on Midgard was hidden beneath Thuderholme abbey for safe keeping. The fragment that found its way to the Astral Sea was recovered by the Aesir, and is now said to be stored in Odin’s treasure vault. We could not discover the locations of the remaining three fragments. We believe one is somewhere in the Elemental Chaos, another in the Feywild, and the final shard is in the Shadowfell. Whether that is true to this day, and where exactly they are, we don’t know.

We also learned that the King the Crawls was involved with the creation and use of the engine. In fact, during the Dawn War, he was known as the Savior, for he was a mighty god, and it was with his aid that the Aesir were able to push Y’mir’s horde of giants and titans back from the gates of Asgard and defeat Y’mir himself. According to the legends, there were several nights of great feasting after Y’mir’s defeat. During this time Odin grew jealous and angry towards the Savior, for he felt the god was flirting with his wife Friga. Odin summoned Loki the trickster, and together they concocted a plan to at the same time put the Savior to good use and rid themselves of his presence. Odin approached him with an offer. He told the Savior that he could join the ranks of the Aesir if he passed one final test. He would have to travel to the depths of Midgard and defeat the primordial known as Gargath. To aid him in this task the Odin gave him an enchanted sword that would give him the power to single handedly best this deadly foe. The Savior agreed, for he was a lonely god, his great beauty, perfect health and skill made the other gods jealous of him, and few wanted to be in his presence. He saw Odin’s offer, as a great opportunity to gain acceptance among his peers. Thus, he agreed to the quest. He confronted Gargash, and the pair battled their way through the depths of midgard. It was a long, arduous battle, and the Savior only barely bested his foe. When he drove his god forged blade into the primordial to land the killing blow, the curse Loki had hidden in the blade was triggered. It trapped the Savior in the depths of Midgard, preventing him from ever being able to return the Astral Sea. He would never have his place among the Aesir. Over the ages the Savior’s anger and bitterness at this treachery transformed him into the The King that Crawls. Clearly, he still harbors a grudge against the gods to this day.

It seems quite possible that the King that Crawls is behind these events, though we saw clear evidence that the giants were also affiliated with the Cult of the Elemental Eye. Perhaps these enemies of the gods have made some kind of an alliance. Perhaps they seek to reforge the divine engine. Perhaps they believe that by freeing Y’mir they can have their revenge against the Aesir and/or free the Elemental Eye.

We decided it would be prudent to seek out the stolen fragment. For a while the Hand of Fate told us that the piece of the artifact and the Golden Horn tablets were both somewhere north of here. But before we could organize an expedition to go north the Hand indicated that they were elsewhere. Where “elsewhere” is, we are not sure, but we suspect it is no longer on Midgard.

We have decided that for now we will try find at least one of the remaining fragments. If the King that Crawls is in fact trying acquire them so that he can reforge the Divine Engine, than ensuring that they stay out of his hands can only be a good thing. Using the Hand of Fate, we were able to determine that going to the Fey Wild is at least an option with a possibility of success. There I may be able to make contact with my fey patron, and hopefully find a means of locating a fragment of the engine.


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## PHDungeon (Dec 29, 2010)

We've had another new addition to the group. This character is an Elf by the name of Ardyn, who happens to be a two weapon fighting ranger.

The party currently consists of:

Bella (level 14 changeling/rogue/sorcerer)
Melek (level 14 tiefling wizard/warlock)
Corvin Androsax (level 14, human/cleric)
Turak (level 14, minotaur/warden)
Ardyn (level 14, elf/ranger)


Session 35 – Wolfsbane

I am no fool.

I know that those that I have been traveling with are involved in events that will affect the whole world.  If they do not succeed it will allow chaos and darkness to swallow the land.  I have seen them fight and I believe that without me, they will all die.  So even though I have responsibilities here in Grimmsburg, I will join them.

Melek has proven to be resourceful in discovering a vague idea of where the fragments of the God Engine have disappeared to.  It would seem that our ‘destiny’ is dragging us into the Feywild.  I’m relieved for even though I have an affinity for cold I prefer a more temperate environment than the North.

It would seem I am the last of our original band, everyone else either dead or retired, but mostly dead. Corvin foolishly blames me for the loss of his sister Deryl back in the Trollhaunt, but I care little for his opinion. There was honestly nothing that could be done.  He does not seem to realize that this is a dangerous path we walk, and it is being watched by the gods, not all of them the good ones.  He will learn that lesson though, and probably sooner than later.

Knowing that there are paths to the Feywild in Moonstair we returned there.  Someone new, an elf named Ardyn, has joined us. He had served the Jarl as a warden, and apparently spent much time hunting orc bands in the Nentir Vale. Apparently, he had heard of our deeds, and wanted a chance to join a band of adventurers foolish enough to take the fight to the Norland’s most dangerous enemies. I couldn’t help notice that he carried a weapon with a frost enchantment.  With my ability to make these weapons more effective, we will fight well together.

We waited until the moon was full in the sky, then using a circle of standing stones near Moonstair we arrived in the Feywild. We sought out the place where Melek made his pact with his fey patron. Melek again made use of his Eagle’s flight ritual, allowing us to search miles and miles of Feywild swamp from the air. Eventually, we located an island in the middle of the swamp that was speckled with crumbling stone menhirs. It was here we landed, for according to the tiefling it was the spot where he had first encountered the Maiden of the Moon.

We made camp on the island, and we waited until the moon was full in the sky. At some point I fell asleep. In fact, we all did. Everything became dreamy haze. I recall seeing a woman appear to us. She was a beautiful eladrin with eyes like the moon and long flowing silver hair. She held in her hand a slender silver sword. I recall her saying to us only a single phrase: “Slay my enemies and find what you seek.”

I remember little else. When I woke up we were no longer on the island in the swamp. Instead, we were on a cold, windy mountainside overlooking a forested valley. The moon was still full and in the sky. We could hear the howl of wolves down in the valley. On the opposite side of the valley, a moonbeam shone down illuminating some sort of fortified gatehouse type structure built into the side of a mountain. A winding road led up the mountain from the forest to the gatehouse. It was pretty clear that this was our destination, though we had no idea where we were or what the place was.

We contemplated waiting until morning, but decided to press on.  Thus, we entered the dark alpine forest. The trees were towering giants, and a bed of needles carpeted the forest floor, leaving little opportunity for smaller bushes and plants to grow. It made walking relatively easy. All around us we could hear the howls of the wolves. As we went the howls started to get closer. The beasts had picked up our scents, and soon we were beginning to catch glimpses of them moving among the trees. I tried to scout ahead but it proves fruitless. We are still ambushed in a clearing by the foul beasts. They came at us from all sides, hunting in a pack. Some were hulking dire wolves, others were smaller werewolves that had assumed a deadly hybrid form.

It is the first time I was able to witness Corvin in a fight.  He was much different from his brother- quiet and introspective and he seems to have only some of the Androsax foolishness. He does however possess his brother’s bloodlust and he throws himself into battle.  I watch as he is brought to within an inch of his life several times only to be drawn back by the will of his god.  He will only have himself to blame for his death.

The elf proved to be just as effective as I though, ruthlessly cutting into foes with his twin scimitars. Working together we were able to make quick work of our enemies, for what he started I could finish.  

I drew back and fired from the shadows, taking cover behind a large log.  The darkness of the woods swallowing me so effectively that the wolves could not see me. They passed me for easier prey, that being the fire hurling tiefling.  Melek remained in the middle of the clearing when the wolves closed in, and as a result he was savaged by them.  Fortunately, Turak was his usual self. He came to Melek’s aid, crushing skulls with his mighty maul. We made quick work of them.

In the end, I was the only one who left the battle without a scratch, and the others were thankful for Corvin’s healing magics.  Undaunted we continued, and now we stand at the foot of a cliff ready to enter a massive fortress.  It is going to be a long night.


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## PHDungeon (Feb 2, 2011)

DMs Note: My player’s journal missed one key event that I will fill in here. After being attacked by moon-frenzied werewolves in the valley, they continued on to the far side of the valley. They made their way up a steep mountain trail, and at the end of the trail, half way up the mountainside, they discovered the entrance to a stone fortress, which was carved into the mountainside. A pair of giant stone doors stood open. Beyond the doors was a large entry room guarded by hulking, armored Cyclops and a pair of fey dire wolves. On the opposite side of the room was another set of stone doors that provided the only visible means of entrance to whatever was deeper in the mountain.

The heroes quickly assessed the situation and decided to approach with violence. Without any attempts at diplomacy, they attacked the Cyclops. I believe this was done primarily because the Lady of the Moon had said to them, “Kill my enemies and find what you seek.” Clearly they had taken these words to heart. They fared well against the Cyclops, but were also fired upon by hobgoblin archers who had taken up positions behind arrow slits that were carved into the walls of the entry room. The hobgoblins fired into the room with the benefit of full cover, which made them difficult to remove and a dangerous threat to the heroes. As usual the heroes prevailed, but they had sustained a beating and retreated back out to the ledge for a short rest. By the end of the session, they had not yet made it into the fortress.

Melek’s journal:

After killing the immediate door guards and failing to win entry into the rest of the fortress, we decided to retreat a little to regroup, bringing one of the cyclops’ bodies with us for further interrogation using a Speak with Dead ritual.

After resting a little, we discussed what questions we should ask of the dead Cyclops. We eventually decided that we should ask only questions that would affect our actions. The first (and by far the most important) question was "Where is an alternative entrance?" It revealed to us that there is another, smaller, hidden and less guarded door a few dozen feet above out heads. Perhaps we should have looked further before asking the question? No, not really. It is night and we're in terra incognita. Better to use a little magic than to needlessly risk scouting.

The second question was "What are the defences that we face?" The answer was that 50 hobgoblin archers and 20 Cyclops are stationed in the gatehouse- gatehouse to what? We don't know. Nor do we know how far it is to the next set of defenders.

At any rate, somewhat restored we decided to foray into the smaller passage. We got up to the passage with no difficulty at all. Turak seems to have decided to take on the role of clown, racing a rope of climbing up the cliff side for no apparent reason. I'm starting to think that he has become quite unbalanced- still, he more than admirably fulfills his part in combat. If he is touched in the head that is probably of little import right now.

Bella scouted ahead. The passageway led into the area above the entrance chamber, the area from which archers could fire down on us through murder holes or drop rocks and the like on our heads. There were a handful of hobgoblins up here but between Bella, Arden and myself we managed to quickly and quietly slay them. We then peered down through the murder holes, and we were able to get a feel for where we were. The entire place is essentially a gatehouse, guarding a portcullis to a passageway leading deeper into the mountain. There is a side portcullis as well. The devices are worked from the second floor (the floor where we currently are).

How far it is from here to the next location is very unclear- hopefully far enough that we can deal with the remaining guards in the gatehouse before reinforcements arrive.

We decided to continue our assault and headed down a flight of stairs to a series of hallways that were located behind the arrow slits that accessed the entry gauntlet. We were within their fortress! We almost managed to take out another handful of hobgoblins quietly before raising the alarm. Suddenly horns were blowing and more hobgoblins and cyclops warriors were pouring into the halls to confront us. Luckily, the halls were fairly narrow.

At that point, a fairly long drawn out and chaotic battle ensued. We put down another squad of hobgoblin archers with little difficulty but quickly ran into some cyclops. A battle between Arden and Turak on the one side and some cyclops on the other side started at one end of the corridor while we heard reinforcements coming at us from behind. No sooner had we dealt with the Hobgoblin reinforcements coming at our rear than the door in the middle of the corridor burst open and a couple of Cyclops attempted to split our party in twain.

Turak once again showed his mettle in this combat, essentially single handedly taking on two Cyclops. Admittedly, only one at a time was able to get at him but it was still an impressive accomplishment. His actions definitely make me question his sanity, though. He seems convinced that Arden is his imaginary friend. I suppose it makes sense from one point of view. Arden is very abnormal in size and stature for an elf. Unlike the normal frail and willowy sort he is a big hulking elf. Exactly as a Minotaur WOULD imagine an elf to be. 

At one point in the fight Arden was in quite significant danger, bellowing that nobody was allowed to hurt his imaginary friend, Turak charged in to save him.

The fight was hard but all of us pulled our weight. I managed to slay most of the hobgoblins in short order, their puny minds no match for the fiery little pixies I summoned to assault them. I was of some use against the cyclops as well, although the lion’s share of killing them was performed by Arden, Bella and Turak. Corvin meanwhile wielded the divine power of Odin with grace and efficiency, managing to keep us all on our feet despite the best efforts of the Cyclops. He is also a valiant and worthy fighter, holding the line against the Cyclops as a true warrior. All of us except, of course, Bella took significant 
damage from the Cyclops and their Hobgoblin allies but it was nothing that we could not handle.

Eventually, we managed to clear the area of our enemies and threw up a makeshift barrier to keep out the Cyclops reinforcements who were advancing on our position. If my count is accurate we have now slain 11 Cyclops and well over 40 Hobgoblins. If we make the quite questionable assumptions that the Cyclops was speaking the truth AND that no reinforcements have yet arrived from another location that means that we still face about 9 Cyclops and perhaps a dozen or so hobgoblins to deal with.

We have retreated back upstairs for the moment. At the very least we need a short rest to recover some of our abilities. Ideally we'll have sufficient time to take a much longer rest. But whether or not we seek that luxury and whether or not we are granted it are matters to be discussed soon.

We're all (well, except for Bella) coming fairly near to the end of our rope. Certainly both Arden and I are quite wounded right now , although we're still in fighting fettle. Some of our powers have been expended but we still retain many more of them. I'm sure that we can still succeed IF all that we face are the original inhabitants of this guardhouse. The alternative of trying to rest for long carries the huge risk that reinforcements will arrive. But it might still be the wiser plan.


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## PHDungeon (Feb 7, 2011)

Bella's journal

Session 36:  The Easy Way

We bypassed the stronghold with all of our usual diplomacy.  Melech’s fey patron, the Maiden of the Moon, had guided us to this fortress, telling us to eliminate her enemies.  We attacked immediately and started a siege.  It has been difficult and only now cowering in a narrow passage with the stench of minotaur burning my nose do I think about how easy it could have been.

Once again I remind myself that Stark is dead and there is nothing threatening me anymore.  Keeping my true nature as a changeling a secret is starting to hurt me.  How much easier would this siege have been if I had been able to approach this fortress as one of their own?  If we could have worked together to invent some story and just walked in?

Of course that is not what happened.  Instead we opened with a warning shot, and had the door slammed in our face.  We overcame the fortress the hard way, the six of us against an army.  Outnumbered but fortunately not out classed.

After we cleared out the first room we needed a new plan.  I used a speak with dead ritual to interrogate one of our fallen enemies.  He directed us to a narrow passage built into the walls, perhaps used to look down at enemies.  Climbing up we discovered that it was just big enough for a goblin but not the giant Cyclops.  Quietly skulking forward we found our enemy waiting for us to try another frontal assault.  Quickly and quietly both the elf and I eliminated them.  Carefully exploring I discover we had taken this entire level and not alerted any of those waiting for us to try coming through the front door again.

Overconfident, we decide to try and take one side of the first level, and that is when the inevitable happened.  In the first level were the archers, lined up along a hallway at murder holes.  When we started our attack the rest of the fortress was alerted.  Suddenly we were facing the entire garrison.

Cyclops and goblins poured from every direction and for every one that dropped two more would take their place.  As the battle dragged on we started using the bodies of our fallen enemies as cover.  Finally, after a long battle, things quieted down.  We looked at each other.  Everyone else but me was broken, bleeding and spent.  There was only one thing we could do, we retreated to the small passage to catch our breath.  All of us knew that this siege was far from over.


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## PHDungeon (Feb 7, 2011)

Session #37, Melek’s journal:

After managing to defeat about half the Cyclops we decided that it was time to retreat from the remaining half and regroup a little, so we headed back upstairs and holed up in the small cave above the main entrance where the Cyclops would find it difficult to come and get us

After we'd gathered our breath a little, Ardyn revealed that he could bring us some help. Apparently he has a magical horn that can be used to summon an ally, even across the planar barrier. I wonder where he got something that interesting and powerful. I wonder if he realizes quite how powerful such an item could be.

I expressed some concerns about grabbing somebody from his nice safe location and dropping him into an unknown place in the Feywild to fight a large number of giants for no better reason than that they were in our way and we were told to kill the enemies of my patron. But apparently the ally won't mind being summoned and also will have no trouble killing random strangers because Ardyn wants him to. I'm not sure if I should be reassured or panicked by that. Probably both.

Still, we're hardly in a position to refuse any aid at this point and Ardyn seems determined so I decline to press the matter.

Ardyn blows a horn and pretty much instantaneously a wild apparition appears. He reminds me greatly of that character called Gollum that I saw in the Noh plays in the south, complete with the fish in his mouth.

That partly facetious remark aside, this new companion of ours is called S’mar and would appear to be a shifter, which, I admit, is a step up from being a full blooded werewolf. He's savage and, even by our standards, quite peculiar. All he wants to know is who to kill. He doesn't really care one whit for why. Fortunately, he doesn't seem to know of the Lady of The Moon. I'm not entirely certain, but I strongly suspect that she would hate him only marginally less than she hates the werewolves in the valley.

To give him credit, he seems to have no difficulties allying with a Minotaur and a Tiefling.

At about this point, one of the Cyclops calls out to us. They've come upstairs and want to negotiate. All of the following is done through Ardyn (he speaks Elven), so I might be missing some nuances, but the gist of it is that they want us to surrender (no doubt so that they can instantly kill us), and we want them to surrender (doubtless so that we can instantly kill them). Not surprisingly, both sides decline the opportunity to commit suicide. They bluster a little about having sent for help and that if we flee they'll track us down with their werewolf allies. Nice to know that they ARE allies of the werewolves. I admit that I'd been a touch concerned that they were actually enemies and that the gate was primarily to keep them out.

We at least gain a little information in the exchange. The gatehouse guards the entrance to Harrowthane, a city ruled by a fomorian. That little fact also means that we pretty much don't have to worry about where we need to go next. Doubtless the piece of the Engine is either held in the vault of the fomorian or he holds the next piece of the puzzle leading us to it.

Given the unfortunately quite plausible threat of reinforcements we decide that we should attack now. While that was doubtless their objective in sharing the information we really have little choice.

S’mar has access to some useful primal magic and manages to conceal our exit from the alcove with at little bit of mist. Not that the cyclops are unaware of our presence or anything but it does make it harder to hit us.

A large combat then ensues between the remaining cyclops with their hobgoblin support and ourselves. My Wall of Fire spell is quite efficacious in allowing us to deal with the giants in a somewhat piecemeal fashion as opposed to all at once. Not to mention considerably singeing several of them in the process. S’mar fights about the way one would expect, brutally but effectively with a pair of battleaxes. The rest of us conform to our usual tactics. 

The giants seem to take it personally when Ardyn kills their leader while (I presume) taunting them, and they concentrate a lot of their efforts on him. We manage to keep him alive, but it’s a fairly close contest since he is almost completely exhausted and on his last legs [Out of healing surges in game terms]. I'm also reeling and am almost knocked unconscious at one point but manage to keep going.

It is a hard fought fight, especially when the Cyclops try to pour burning oil on us, but we manage to prevail without taking any casualties. 

We then quite quickly ransack the place. We obtain 1,000 gold which at least means that we'll have some of the local currency if we make it to the city. No maps or information is to be found, unfortunately.

We head down the major tunnel towards the city, which we believe is located in the Feydark. We hope to find a side passage before meeting the promised reinforcements. We succeed, albeit barely. As we come to a narrow stream coming out of a wall we meet up with a large force of reinforcements, far too many for us to currently fight.

We flee into the passage cut by the stream. S’mar was attempting to talk with the Dire Wolf hounds of the giants (it’s hardly the animals fault that we want to kill their masters), but his attempts went for naught when Belladonna decided to shoot them. I'm not at all sure why she did this as we were all fleeing anyway and even she wasn't going to be able to kill them quickly enough to do any good.

At any rate, we fled up the passage unpursued. It was too narrow for the cyclops and the wolves, and the hobgoblins were hardly going to come on their own.

After not too long a while, we came out into a cave where we could get some well deserved sleep. I admit to wondering if S’mar understood more than I thought abut my connections to the Maiden of the Moon and if I'd wake up dead. I suppose that I could have tried to stay awake but the truth of the matter is that I was exhausted and, if he and Ardwyn want me dead then one way or the other I'm sure that they'll succeed.

To my pleasant relief I instead woke up quite refreshed and rearing to continue on. I cast a ritual and we talked to some rats. They weren't a huge amount of help but basically told us that one of the 2 other passages out of this cave would lead us to the large worms and the other wouldn't. Both would eventually end up at the city (all passageways seemingly lead to Harrowthane)

We then spent the best part of day wandering through caverns both wonderous and magnificent and deadly and exhausting. I'd like to come back here some time when I have a lot more time and leisure to really experience their true beauty.

Of note was a cavern filled with mushrooms, mushrooms that send deadly spores if disturbed. Using our various means we all managed to get through more or less unscathed.

We eventually came to a large cliff face that we had to climb. Once again my wonderful physical abilities came to the front as, just inches from the top, I managed to lose my grip and plummet to the bottom. Fortunately I was able to Fey Step at the last second and so avoid a nearly certain death. The second time I climbed I managed to succeed in making the climb.

From the cliff top we can see an incredible large cavern with a small village nearby and a city in the distance. In the city are various people wandering about including eladrin, shifters, hobgoblins and cyclops. We start to consider the possibility of disguising ourselves. One Hat of Disguise will only go so far, especially since I don't speak elven.

At this point Belladonna speaks up and reveals a secret. She is actually not human but is really a Changeling. Well, that certainly has the potential of helping us. And it explains some things about her. It’s interesting that Corvin seems completely unsurprised by this new development.

It’s nice to know now that as a tiefling I'm actually one of the more respectable races in this party.

We then start to discuss tactics. If we are to have any chance of sneaking into the city we're going to have to disguise Turak. It’s not at all clear if we can convince him to use the Hat of Disguise. Even if we can, at best we'll not be obvious from a distance. Close up the fact that few of us speak elven is likely to become obvious.


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## PHDungeon (Feb 16, 2011)

This is my first journal from Smar, the shifter ranger. It is also regarding game session 37.


I remember when Ardyn first taught me letters. I wouldn’t be able to write this without those lessons. I had not seen Ardyn in many a moon, until earlier today. Finally, Ardyn has called upon his turn to blow the Bloodbrother’s Horn. I was eating fish, freshly caught from a brook in the Winterbole, one moment; the next I was standing in a small cave looking out over the edge of a mountain. From deeper in the cave I heard a booming voice call out demanding surrender. Ardyn stood next to me, horn in hand. He and his companions were covered in bruises, cuts, and gashes. They looked tired, and desperate. It felt just like the good old days!

The fight was quick, but brutal. Ardyn’s companions are an impressive bunch: a human woman with a keen eye and a crossbow with which to use it—I saw her fell more than one of the brutes with a quarrel in the eye, magical frost spreading away from the wound. There is a large bull-headed man who seems to be able to speak with the spirits of the land much as I do—indeed, I saw him call upon a great swarm of spirits to hold two of the one eyed brutes in place. Then there is a man-demon capable of calling up flame—at one point in time he called upon a great wall of it in order to stop our foes from falling upon us in numbers. Finally, there is skanzi priest of Odin—he certainly bears the favour of his god, at least enough to close freshly opened wounds within minutes of suffering injury. I allowed the wolf in my veins to feast. Whoever the giant one eyed men my friend was fighting with were, they died quickly. I fell upon their leader, and Ardyn finished him off. Just like old times!

But two of Ardyn’s companions worry me. Odin’s people have not been kind to me in the past, nor I to them. It was not for nothing that the men of Nenlaslt called me Nenlasltagandr or Nenlasltahræzla. To them, I was the monster and the terror; they earned my brutality with this mistreatment of my people, of me. Meanwhile, I heard the man-demon say that he worships The Lady of the Moon. I have heard many of my people call her our enemy in the past. But Ardyn assures me that this Odin worshiper saved his life twice, and the man-demon tells me that they seek pieces of something called the “God Engine” to stop primordials from walking the Nentir Vally again. The spirits bear no love for the primordials. So, stuck in the Feywild as I now am, it seems me and my blood-brother will travel side by side again.
After fighting the one eyed giants we entered the caverns they were guarding. One of the one eyed warriors told us that these caverns lead to a great underground city. Then Ardyn’s companions killed him. Personally, I would have let him live. His people were fools for not surrendering when we first gave them a chance, after me and Ardyn felled their leader, but my bloodlust was sated; I saw no reason to kill this lone survivor after he dropped his weapons, he had done me no great harm. Still, it is too late to worry about it now. It was the bull-headed man that crushed his skull, and I trust that he did as the spirits bid him.

In the caverns we eventually came upon an underground waterfall created by a river that poured out of a smaller cave whose mouth was located on a ledge above us. Just as we did a massive patrol of reinforcements were heard rounding the bend. They were lead by a pack of wolves tracking for them. Me, Ardyn, and his companions, managed to scramble up ledge before the giants or goblins saw us. I saw many one eyed giants and hobgoblins entering the cavern bellow the ledge. However, the massive wolves that tracked for them caught our scent. They did something I have never seen another wolf do; they teleported up to the top of the ledge! I wanted to try and convince them that we were not their enemy, should not be their prey, but the woman shot quarrels at them. It is hard to convince a wolf that you are not its enemy when those you travel with attack it. At least we did not kill any of them. We left them at the mouth of the cave as we ran up the river. This passage was too small, too tight of a fit, for the wolves or giants to follow.

Currently we rest in a cave by the side of an underground spring. Soon we will rise, and then we will try and find a way through these winding caves towards this underground city. I wonder if a “city” will be anything like the town of Nenlaslt. If these strange giants and goblins are Ardyn’s enemies, I imagine that it might…


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## PHDungeon (Mar 2, 2011)

This is Melek's journal for session #38 I believe.

Currently the party consists of:

Bella (changeling rogue with a touch of sorcerer, level 15)
Melek (tiefling, warlock/wizard, level 15)
Corvin (human, cleric of Odin 14)
Turak (minotaur, warden 14)
Smar (shifter, ranger (hunter) 14)
Arden (elf, ranger 14)

Most of us waited back at the entrance to the secluded cavern while Bella, Smar and Ardyn decided to scout out the Feydark city that sprawled out before us. They were all chosen for their linguistic abilities and not particularly for their diplomatic prowess.

They fairly quickly determined that we were in one ward of a larger city called Harrowthane. The ward filled the massive cavern it was constructed in, and it seemed that there were other wards in their own caverns, connected by well guarded tunnels. The ward was clearly one of the low rent districts, many of the inhabltants being obvious slaves. There was a mix of races, mainly goblinoids and shifters but a smattering of eladrin and even a human or two (albeit unarmed and unarmoured). What there was not were minotaurs and tiefilngs. Or anybody except hobgoblins and cyclops who sported a 10th the weaponry and armour that we carry. It didn’t seem like many Cyclops lived in this ward, and the ones that were seen looked primarily like guards who were there to keep the masses in line.

Our scouts managed to pick up a surprising amount by eavesdropping on the inhabitants. Not at all surprisingly, the news of the day was ourselves and our taking of the gatehouse. If nothing else, we have disturbed the peace and sleep of the fomorian King. Unfortunately, he has increased the guard around him and has put the city onto an alert status. While this is also not a surprise, it will make our mission harder.

The city of Harrowthane has two very obvious and significant opponents. The Fomorian king is named Bronnor. He also has some kind of sorcerous ally who obviously inspires great fear and terror in the populace. Her name is Kaleestra. Who or what she really is isn't yet known but she apparently raised the captain of the guard of the gatehouse as an undead monstrostiy as a means of getting information about us and as a punishment for his failures. Unfortunately, they now seem to know a great deal about us.

The King’s chief hunter Krevan and his warwolves have been dispatched to look for us. Everybody knows that they'll find us soon and tear us to bits since they never fail. Let’s hope that by the time they’ve gotten close to finding us we'll have managed to get out of here. I'm not an expert on these things but hopefully they'll also have trouble following our tracks through the city. Hmm. Sometimes I wish that Turak bathed more.

The city has one obvious gate leading towards a richer part of the city, known as the King’s Ward. Clearly, what we are looking for is going to be in that district. The issue is going to be in how to get through that gate. It is my understanding that most Cyclops can see invisible, and that some of them can even see through illusions, which will make sneaking by the guards much tougher. Not to mention, that even getting to the gate is going to be rather problematic.

After our usual amount of dithering and discourse we decided that the best plan was to head into the city in a couple of groups, disguised as well as possible. Turak would wear the hat of disguise pretending to be a hulking hobgoblin while I'd do what I could with a hood to hide my nature. Once we got close to the gate our cunning plan was to have Bella cause a distraction while I opened a  Arcane gate between us and a distance down the tunnel. Hopefully they wouldn't notice us getting through and Bella would be able to follow later.

However, events occurred to alter that plan. It’s certainly unusual when that happens.

As we headed towards the gate, disguised to the extent possible, we were accosted by a gnome called Neblin. Apparently we had caught his attention, and he had managed to figure out who we were. He offered to help us for a price. Since none of us were particularly enamoured with our previous plan, and since we thought that we'd likely be able to kill him if he betrayed us, we decided to follow him.

He took us into the basement below a bar. The basement was not empty, in addition to some hobgoblin thugs playing cards, there was a huge bear resting in a corner, some wolves gnawing on bones and even some tiny pixies flying about and giggling with sing song laughter.

Neblin then informed us that he could get us into the inner city in exchange for a sufficient sum. Once we agreed he told us that he'd put us in touch with a friend of his, Sethrax by name, who could arrange for us to get into King Bronnor’s chambers. Sethrax is the apparently a member of the King’s inner circle of advisors.

However, Sethrax really, really likes people to be polite, and in order for us to even discuss things with Sethrax we were advised to give him a great many gifts of great value. We pooled what little resources that we had and came up with a smattering of reasonably valuable items, including my Fey Leaf sandles, a gorgeously crafted, crossbow from Bella, 500 slightly blood stained local gold pieces and some other miscellany. 

While Neblin went off to arrange things we got a little bit of a rest in the tavern’s basement. Smar tried to befriend the wolves but didn't seem to have much success. They didn't eat him or anything, but they definitely didn't seem ready to adopt him into their pack. The rest of us ate and rested awhile.

Some time later Neblin came back. After altering our appearances with the aid of some ritual magic that he knew he led us off through some alleyways into an underground passage that led us eventually to the home of Sethrax. There he pointed the way and told us to enter. We stepped into a huge audience hall. Many Cyclops guards were waiting for us. None of them seemed bothered by our presence. When we asked how we'd recognize Sethrax, Neblin just laughed and said that we would. He then left us, informing that he'd meet back up with us at the bar. Thus, we waited until Sethrak deigned to show up.

Neblin was right, we recognized who Sethrak was when an elder green dragon descended to the balcony. We all decided that being polite was a good idea, although I think that Smar overdid things when he rolled over onto his back and exposed his belly (jest).

Sethrax took our tribute and deemed it acceptable. He then proceeded to talk to us in Giant (a language that ironically his cyclops guards do not understand). He wants the King dead so that he can replace him, and he is quite willing to provide us with the means of getting to the King if we agree to kill him. In exchange, he'll allow us to have any item in the king’s treasury. And he'll arrange things so we can safely leave Harrowthane. The details of that last point are rather sketchy. He doesn’t give us more than a moment to discuss matters, but we know that turning the offer down at this point would seem to be rather foolish so we all agree to his plan. 

We then leave the presence and return back towards the bar. However, just as we are making our way through the alley towards the door that leads into the bar’s basement, we are ambushed by Krevan and his associates. Fortunately for all of us, we have some very perceptive party members, and our enemies fail to achieve surprise as they leap down from the rooftops into the alley.

As is so often the case, battle ensues. I manage to use my new spell Plague of Frogs to some effect. To my considerable surprise the most effective opponents are not the werewolves, vicious and powerful though they are, but a set of 3 pixies that are intelligent enough to fight from a long distance and to constantly go invisible. I've never encountered them before but either the stories of them being quite fragile are false or they are much tougher here in the feywild than are their counterparts back in the real world. The little creatures use tiny bows and arrows, and they fire with deadly accuracy. Their arrows are laced with an equally deadly poison. Despite the concentrated efforts of Bella, all three of the pixies survive the fight. 

I spend a significant portion of the battle just trying to keep my comrades alive, probably saving both Ardyn and Bella at various points by pouring healing potions down their dying throats. I barely keep myself alive as the damned pixies frequently concentrate their fire upon me.

Smar was conversing with one of the werewolves at one point but whatever diplomacy he was trying failed. Which seemed to irk him somewhat judging by the ferocity with which he proceeded to attack them. Turak was put in a particularly tough position, as he spent the entire battle engaged with Krevan himself. Krevan was a giant werewolf that stood well over ten feet tall and could have easily torn anyone of us to shreds, anyone of us but Turak. With the help of Ardyn and Smar, the mighty minotaur was able to bring him down. 

In the end, we manage to prevail over our enemies, although it is definitely close at a couple of points. All of our enemies, but the pixies are slain. Under cover of under cover of a primal mist summoned by Smar, we head to the entrance to the bar, intending to try and sneak inside. Alas, when we open the door to the bar we find that all the inhabitants, including the animals, had been slain. Unfortunately, our enemies clearly knew that we were here and our mist is unlikely to fool the pixies, who likely suspect we will take refuge here. They may be going to fetch help or are waiting to ambush us when we leave.

Having little other choice and desperately requiring a little rest to lick our wounds, we head into the basement anyway and shut and bar the door.

DMs notes: This fight was a close one. It was one of those really nasty battles that pushed them to their limits and forced them to spend almost everything they had. If I had been a little crueler with my tactics I could have made a kill or two, but I cut them a tiny bit of slack on this one. The pixies were particularly evil.


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## PHDungeon (Mar 6, 2011)

This is Smar's journal, also regarding game session #38

Spirits, is this truly what you sent me here to do? Last I spoke to you I spoke through writing. Now, I silently whisper to you as I rest after fighting against my own kind again. I whisper, and I pray for a response.

Spirits, you sent me to Ardyn. You told me where to travel after slaying the Jarl of Nenlaslt. There I found my blood-brother. Together we found the horn. I heard your praise when my blood mixed with his. I felt your favour. When he called to me with the horn, when he told me that we must stop the primordials from walking the Winterbole woods again, from wrecking havoc on the land, I knew that this was what you wanted of me.

But then I learned that one of my companions was a priest of Odin, and another a servant of the Lady of the Moon. Are these truly the companions you wish me to fight beside? But my blood-brother is here, so it must be so. We left the cavern with the spring and made our way through winding tunnels. We crossed giant caverns of poisonous mushroom spores, scaled steep cliffs, and found our way to the city of these one eyed giants. There, the woman with the sharp eye turned out to be a… a shapeshifting thing. I know not what to call it. It took my shape. It took the shape of hobgoblin. It shifted between man and woman. It is a strange creature indeed. Still, its ability to leap from disguise to disguise has proven useful in this underground city. Who am I to begrudge someone the ability to shift between shapes?

And now I have seen my first city! I have tried not to let my awe shame me, but these are not the log longhouses of Nenlaslt. Here, the buildings are made of the same stone as the caverns. It is like nothing I have seen before. But however amazing the craftsmanship, this place is broken, dirty, and wrong. The buildings look like they are falling to pieces. Are all cities so broken down? The people who populate its streets seem little better. Their spirits are trampled. I have seen the look in their eyes before. I have seen that look when a collar yet rested around my neck, and I stared at my reflection in still pools of water. Shifters walk these streets branded like dogs. I bear such a brand. I know how it chafes the soul. I wish the person who put that brand upon their skin dead.

We were going to try and sneak into another part of the city, but a creature that my companions called a “gnome” stopped us. It was short thing with pitch black eyes, pointed ears, and a long nose. It told us that it could help us, for a price. Ardyn seemed to think that accepting its offer was wise. It took us to the basement of an inn. There, three wolves rested with no collars about their necks. I spent some time getting to know them. They seemed quite happy. They seemed free. I think Ardyn made the right choice. In this den the gnome told us that it knew of “someone” that could help us, an “ally” of the king who dislikes its allegiance. This “someone” turned out to be a dragon. We met with it in a great cavern of shaped stone. I did not think stone could be so smooth. And the dragon, its head is almost as large as I am! It told us that it will give us the item we seek, if we kill the king of these lands.

Now, if this king is the one responsible for the brands on the skin of my pack-brothers, surly he deserves to die. But, something weighed heavy on my heart; when the shapeshifter and I traveled through the city we heard rumors that the king had sent his war-wolves to hunt us. Were these wolves free? If so, why did they hunt for someone willing to allow the primordials to destroy the land? Were they slaves? If so, how could I survive them without harming them? How could I free them? I did not come here to kill my own kin. I had thought I left that behind me long ago.

And then they attacked. They attacked us returning to the gnome’s den after speaking to the dragon. They were not just wolves, they were werewolves. They were like my father. They were direct blood-kin. I called to them. I told them we had no quarrel with them. But, they would not listen. They would not stop. They attacked us like we were prey. They called us their query. They were intent to kill me, and my blood brother. Indeed, my blood-brother nearly died. I wanted to make my way to him, to aid him, but I could not; I was trapped in melee with a werewolf unlike any I have seen before. He stood over ten feet tall. He seemed to be like a lord among my kin. Thankfully, the demon devotee of the Lady of the Moon managed to make his way to Ardyn and stop his bleeding. I know not what herbs he administered, but soon Ardyn was standing, on shaky legs, again. I do not know if these werewolves were slaves. I had no time to check if they had brands on their skin. I could find no way to survive them without harming them. At least two died under my axes. The lord may have fallen to the shapeshifters icy quarrel, but its flesh tasted deeply of my weapons before it fell. Is this what you sent me here to do? To kill my own kind? To become the Úlfrhundr again?

Now we rest. We have been chased into the gnomes den by tiny winged archers capable of hiding in empty air. They have not followed us into the building. It seems the werewolves killed everyone in the den, before attacking us in the alley, including the three wolves that lived here. How could they respect life so little that they felt free to mutilate our wolf-kin? Perhaps they were beaten, broken, forced into the service of this land’s king until they knew no better, like I was once forced to kill for the Jarl of Nenlaslt? Spirits, take their souls, put those souls to rest. May they find peace from the rage that boils in all our blood. Spirits, tell me what to do next. Spirits, show me the way to this land’s king that I may do to him as I did to the Jarl of Nenlaslt. I will show him just how much I appreciate being forced to kill my own kind again. I will make him pay for the lives of the wolves in this den, and the lives of each werewolf we were forced to slay, with his own flesh.


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## PHDungeon (Mar 15, 2011)

Session #39

Party:

Bella, changeling rogue 16
Melek, tiefling wizard/warlock 16
Turak, minotaur warden 16
Smar, shifter ranger 16
Ardyn, elf ranger 16
Corvin, human cleric 16

Melek's journal:

After a brief rest and much divine healing from Corvin, we start to discuss our options. Clearly holing up here in the basement of this tavern isn’t much of a choice. Fleeing the city seems like the only practical alternative to me, but I'm having a little difficulty in convincing my companions of this. And even that alternative has issues with it.

We more or less have to assume that pixies will be watching our every move when we leave. Damned invisible little pests! I'm going to have to learn a way to deal with that issue. 

As we are arguing, the door leading from the inn upstairs into the basement opens. Standing in the entrance is another gnome who immediately rushes over to the corpse of the bear and starts weeping into its fur, getting blood all over his face. His two hobgoblin guards watch on in bemusement, and are obviously fervently hoping that we don't decide to kill them all. I do feel sympathy for the poor little man, though. To lose a loved one always hurts. I remember that when I lost my pet cathshee I cried for days. Cathshee? When did I ever have any pet at all let alone something exotic like that? 

This new gnome turns out to be Waylan, the owner of the bar and the brother of Neblin. Not at all unreasonably, Waylan is extremely upset at Neblin for bringing all of this trouble to his doorstep. It is a case of one sibling taking the aid and help of the other for granted and abusing the situation, just like occurs in so many of the best romances. I admit that I have some misgivings that I've been doing something similar with my sister Kallista. I've pressured her into accepting a role as the leader of the tiefling enclave that she may well be uncomfortable with, a role that could easily lead her into conflict with the Jarl that she would otherwise have escaped. I can tell myself that I'm doing it for the greater good and not just for personal gain. But while that is definitely true is it sufficient justification? Perhaps Neblin is also acting in what he thinks is the correct way for the long term. As virtually a slave here perhaps his mercenary ways are all that is keeping his family alive and well.

I think that I'll need to have a long talk with Kali when I get back. At any rate, I'll put aside the personal soul searching for now.

Waylan turns to us and tells us that he'll be able to hide us from the guards who are to be expected at any moment. While this seems doubtful to us, it’s definitely at least as good an option as any other we have. If it fails then we can start killing Cyclops at that point. If nothing else, hopefully the guard will be split up and we'll be able to deal with them a few at a time while fleeing the city. Thus, we follow Waylan up into the tavern’s kitchen area, and we are introduced to his absolutely terrified family. Terrified of us, terrified of turning us in, terrified of not turning us in. You've got to feel for the poor things.

It is then that we hear some Cyclopian guards coming into the common room demanding to see Waylan. Fortunately for us, the captain was either a complete moron or somebody who arrogantly believed that Waylan wouldn't dare to lie to him and conceal anybody. Maybe he got his position not for his merits but because he is somebody’s son. The captain was basically more or less believing Waylan as he professed total innocence and ignorance to any knowledge of the outlanders that had just slain Kregan in the alley beside his establishment. He stated that he knew nothing about the dead bodies in his basement (which the guards had presumably just discovered), and that he hadn't even been in the basement.  The captain didn't even particularly mind all that much when Waylan changed his story given the bloody evidence on his face that he had actually been in the basement.

With everything that happened later I admit that some of the details are now getting blurred. I'm finding it hard to differentiate between what I dreamed and what actually happened. I believe that the captain and his troops then left and Waylan sent a runner to contact his brother. I'm almost certain that the fairly clear memory that I have of Waylan mooning the captain on the way out didn't really occur.

Before Neblin could return the captain came back and started to again interrogate Waylan. It seems he wasn’t fully satisfied with Waylan’s previous answers. This time the Cyclops used techniques that would surely quickly either cause Waylan to reveal our presence or to die (stepping on his head for example). Belladonna came to the rescue. She turned into a lowlife hobgoblin servant and left the inn under the noses of the guards placed outside the backdoor. She then went around to the front, disguising herself as a hobgoblin guard along the way. In the guise of a warrior, Bella then claimed that we'd been sighted at the far end of the festering cesspool that is this ward of the city and that he'd been sent to fetch reinforcements.

This subterfuge was successful and the guards all hastened off to find us. I'm sure Belladonna later somewhat exaggerated her story of how brilliant an actor she was (who wouldn't?) but the basic details of her leading them away and then separating from them were doubtless true. Full marks to her for her ingenuity

Meanwhile, back at the inn, we waited for Neblin. He arrived in short order and said that we should all go to another safe house that he has, the home of a former girl friend. I admit that Neblin doesn't strike one as the sort who would have ex amours who would think highly of him, but perhaps gnomes have different standards and attitudes in such things than do Tieflings. We all head off with the gnome, including Waylan and his family. I've advised them all to leave the city at once since not even the dumbest Cyclops is going to remain fooled forever and eventually they're going to bring them all in and torture and kill them on general principles if for no other reason.

We hasten off to his ex’s house and, amazingly, she does indeed let us in, admittedly after Neblin wheedles her a little and bribes her a little with gold. We relax, hoping that we'll be able to spend some considerable time here. Meanwhile, Neblin leaves us again to go attempt to secure a means for us to leave this part of the city. 

While we try to rest, we learn that his ex is a pastry chef of some repute. Turak finds her blueberry pies the best thing that he has ever tasted. I admit that they're not at all bad, quite superior to the normal dreck that humans make, but they're still not a patch on the wonderful Mangosteen tortes that I had in Mithrendain.

While we wait for Neblin’s return Belladonna shows up, having been directed here by an associate of Neblin’s. Neblin also returns soon after, informing us that he is making arrangements for us to go to the house of one Dregas, an ally of Sethrak who lives in the high class part of the city. 

However, our rest is interrupted by the sounding of a proclamation from out in the street. Everybody is to return to their homes as a house to house search is being instigated for Ours Truly. We clearly have to leave right away. Neblin tells us that if we go into the aquifer tunnels beneath the quarter we'll be able to make it to the house of Dregas. Of course, we'll have to face the hordes of undead down there since we don't have time to make it to the "safe route". Apparently the undead have been placed there by King Bronnor’s advisor Kaleestra, as a means of deterring smugglers from using the tunnels.

We head down into the depths below the city. We are harassed by small clumps of ghouls and the like, but they're really not a significant threat. Well, not at first.  Just before we make it out of the dangerous area of the tunnels we emerge into a huge cavern with some fascinating symbols enscribed on the floor. They are runes that act to keep Purple Worms at bay. We really should remember to destroy them on the way out. 

However, at this point a large force of ghouls attacks us. They'd been gradually amassing themselves in the darkness. What feels like hundreds of them but were more likely only dozens hurls themselves at us from the multitude of passages leading into the cavern. I retreat behind a swift flowing stream and barely manage to leap across the stream successfully. As has occurred so often recently, my tendency to avoid physical pursuits has nearly been my downfall. Unfortunately, before my companions can join me, they are beset by the ghouls, and several of our number are paralyzed. Once again I find myself acting as a hero, and I use my arcane prowess to switch places with Ardyn as he is being grappled by a Cyclopean ghoul and only inches from going unconscious. There seems something ironic about the lowly wizard stepping in to save the mighty ranger. 

While most of my companions are adept at taking out large number of enemies it is my spells that are largely responsible for sweeping the battlefield clear of the riff raff so that we can concentrate on the several Cyclopean undead. Strangely, some of the undead actually have a sense of self-preservation and flee into the tunnels rather then being completely destroyed by us. The hardest part of the fight is probably keeping Neblin alive.

After the battle we conversed amongst ourselves in Giantish as to what to do. I'm sure that I'm misremembering that I was so incredibly stupid as to mention in the hearing of Neblin that we should wait for the morning before trying to cast a Hand of Fate ritual to see if Sethrak is intending to betray us. 

There was a barred iron gate that sealed the ghoul tunnels from the tunnels beneath the King’s Ward. Bella used her ability to alter her form to contort herself enough that she could slip through the bars of the gate Bella and then pick the massive padlock hanging off of it. Neblin led us through the safer tunnels beneath the King’s Ward, until we were beneath Drega’s villa. We thought about camping down below, but it was decided that even the safe areas had their dangers and it would be better to avail ourselves to the help of Dregas. Nobody seemed overwhelmingly surprised to see us emerging from the well in the middle of Drega’s villa, and we were soon in the hall of Dregas.

Dregas turns out to be, even by Cyclopean standards, a fairly foul and odious piece of work. He is a mercenary slaver, a traitor to his king, and not above trying to wrest a few gold pieces from us despite the fact that we are working for an ally of his and presumably his position will increase greatly should Sethrak succeed in his plot.

In exchange for some money, Dregas revealed that a group of Drow elves had recently arrived at the city and were negotiating with King Bronnor to purchase an item that we guess to be the part of the Divine Engine that we're seeking. My visceral reaction to the fact that Dregas had sold them some eladrin as playthings surprised me. While any decent person would not like this it felt more like my own kindred had been betrayed. Dregas also told us where the drow were staying within the city.

Finally, we retired for the night and for what should have been a good night’s sleep. Unfortunately, my sleep was anything but calm. Quite honestly, I think that I may be going totally insane.

In retrospect, I think that all of my dreams since we came to the Feywild have been disturbed and similar to last night’s. It is just that last night’s was the first one that I remember. Not completely nor vividly, but I've definitely got impressions. Impressions and memories as if seen through a fog.

I was dreaming the life of somebody else. I am sure that I was an Eladrin or maybe a half eladrin. Do such things even exist here in the Feywild? It seems likely that they do. If elves and humans can breed true, I see little reason that Eladrin and humans cannot.

Can Tieflings interbreed with Eladrin? Perhaps I'm accessing the memory of an ancestor. Or, if what the southerners believe is correct, perhaps one has been reincarnated as me. Or maybe it is some gift of the Maiden of the Moon. Or perhaps my travails have finally caught up with me and I'm just going mad. It’s exceedingly scary that the last alternative is almost the most attractive.

At any rate, I was leading a very different life. I think that I was a bard. A sword wielding bard- a great hero, a great adventurer, but one with a certain joie de vivre that I admit that I've been lacking. I greatly envy that bard of my dreams. He was sure of his place in the world, happy in what he was doing. He knew that he was leading a very dangerous life, but he didn't care because he knew that he was making a difference in this life and would be rewarded in the next. And not rewarded by an eternal life of battle and the hollow joys of wenching and endless mead and beer. His life was so much richer than mine in so many ways. He was good at so many disparate things- mental, physical, and social. While perhaps not a master at all of them he was certainly well above journeyman in all.

After I woke up I felt strangely different. I almost feel like I can access some of the memories and some of his skills.

But my own memories have also become blurry. At the moment I can't always tell which are my real memories and which are the memories from my dreams.

And there is another side to this. In the morning, as planned I cast a Hand of Fate ritual in order to determine what we should do. Although it succeeded it felt a lot harder to get an answer than it normally does.  And I somehow sensed disappointment on the other side. 

One thing that is unequivocably true is that the Maiden of the Moon granted me a boon in my sleep. I remember her appearing to me in my dreams just before waking, and giving me a kiss on the forehead. I can still feel the power from her kiss, and I believe it may stay with me. Even more interesting is the fact that Odin did not grant me such a boon but instead chose to grant a boon to Bella of all people.

I don't understand it at all but I'm absolutely certain that very soon I am going to have to make a major personal decision, one that will affect my very soul.

After waking up, I cast a divination ritual, and I learned that the dragon is planning to betray us after we slay the King. More importantly, I discovered that the drow elves have the fragment of the Divine Engine. And they have already left the city.

We take our leave of Dregas and descend back into the depths. There we put our sword to Neblin's throat and tell him that he has one chance to live. If he helps us and does not attempt to betray us in any way we will let him live. He can choose to accompany us when we leave the city or stay here. Since his desire to live outweighs his desire to serve Sethrak, he quickly agrees to our terms. He proceeds to again cast his disguising ritual on us and we then head into the city to where the Drow were staying. Perhaps there we can find some clue as to where they came from.

It is both hilarious and disturbing to see Turak, in the illusionary guise of a teenage Cyclops girl, petting Neblin who appears to be a dog. Poor Neblin doesn't seem too impressed but he isn't complaining.

We quickly and quietly arrive at the stone guest house that had been housing the drow entourage. We find it to be guarded by a couple of Cyclops guards. Heading around the back we see a Cyclops maid disposing of an eladrin body as if it were garbage. After she steps back inside, Smar sneaks up to retrieve the body and overhears a conversation through the partially open door. We learn that there is an eladrin inside that is still clinging to life.

I voice the opinion that we have to save that Eladrin since she might have valuable information, and that rationale carries the day. In actuality my primary goal is merely to save her if she can indeed be saved. After all, she is my distant kin.

Smar proceeds to brutally dispatch the maid. I can't say that I disapprove of the action in any way. As far as I'm concerned all the inhabitants of this city deserve to die. Well, all of those who more or less voluntarily live here anyway. We very quickly dispatch the two Cyclops guards inside, and then we rapidly bar the doors to keep any remaining Cyclops at bay. Inside we find the evidence of a linked portal ritual having been used in one room, presumably by the drow to leave the city, but Bella is not able to recreate the destination.

Corvin heals the Eladrin survivor. She is a noble from the city of Celduloin, fortunately she knows enough to inform Bella how to scribe a portal to the teleportation gate there. Bella quickly scribes the portal with my assistance. Before we leave, we leave a couple of letters addressed to King Bronor informing him how Sethrak had plotted his demise with the aid of Dregas. We provide enough details to be moderately convincing. Hopefully the fact that we got as far as we could and knew as much about his defences as we did will lend credence to our story. I doubt that we'll actually manage to start a civil war but perhaps we'll be lucky.

We managed to open the portal before enough guards arrived to give us difficulty, and we left Harrowthane behind. It seems that this mission has been a failure, for our enemies have claimed another piece of the divine engine. Hopefully, this eladrin maiden we have rescued will be able to tell us something useful about the drow.


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## PHDungeon (Mar 24, 2011)

Session #40

PCs

Melek (level 16,Tiefling, hybrid warlock/wizard)
Bella (level 17, Changeling rogue with a touch of sorcerer)
Turak (level 16, Minotaur, Warden)
Ardyn (level 16, Elf, Ranger)
Smar (level 16, Shifter, Ranger)
Corvin (level 16, Human, Cleric) this session Corvin is retired to be replaced with:
Harbek (level 16, Dwarf, Runepriest)


Melek's Journal:

We arrive more or less where we expected, in a teleportation circle in Celduloin, the Eladrin city near to where we first entered the Fey Wild.

It turns out the circle is in the garden of the Eladrin noble family that Malena belongs to. While the situation is slightly tense at first things quickly calm down as they realize that we are not responsible for Malena’s condition but in fact have rescued her from a foul fate.

We are led to Lady Arethmere, the matriarch of the family. I'm quickly reminded how much I despise some of our aristocratic families for their boundless arrogance and their conviction that they are better than anybody else. Wait, what am I saying? I'm NOT an Eladrin. I don't even speak their language. I'm a tiefling. 

The oh so elegant Lady Arethmere almost chokes on the thanks that she, perforce, has to give us as she extends the poorest possible hospitality consistent with her honour. Or lack thereof. To add insult to injury she even explicitly orders us to remain in her house. As if we didn't already get the hint. Well, all of us except possibly Turak and Smar and maybe Ardyn. Ok, maybe the explicit statement was justified after all.

At least she seems an equal opportunity bigot. She doesn't even take to Ardyn, and he’s an elf. She insists that I clean up despite the fact that my clothes and body is spotless due to my magics. And she has nothing but contempt for Turak and Smar.

The hospitality so begrudgingly given was at least adequate. But they were definitely giving us their poor vintages at dinner, a dinner that we ate alone.

Later in that evening, after she has recovered somewhat from her ordeal, we talk to Malena. She can give us only a little bit of information. The female leader of the Drow is called Xune, her second in command is a male called Elkantar. Apparently they work for a Lord and not the expected female leader. Furthermore, Malena overheard a comment to the effect of, "We have to remember to follow our instructions to inscribe the symbol of the King Who Crawls on their chests", referring to the symbols of Torog we found carved into the flesh of the eldarin captives, including Melana. While certainly not conclusive that would seem to imply that the inscription was intended as a ruse to misdirect us (or others).

But other than that we have nothing to go on. We do not know where the drow are to be found. 

That night the dreams again come to me. In one of them, the Maiden appears to me. She promises to protect and to help me if I serve her above all others. I don't remember making any agreements but I do remember her kissing me on the forehead and my feeling a massive surge of fey power in me. I'm not sure what was going to happen because suddenly I am wakened by the sound of crashing coming from Bella’s room. Most of us go to investigate and find that Bella seems to be having some form of fit. She is crying out and saying something about a dream. Perhaps I'm not the only one who is being driven insane by the Feywild. If that is, indeed, what is happening to me.

She insists that we go conduct an experiment our on the grounds even though it is the middle of the night. This is much to the displeasure of the household guards, but they don’t interfere. She asks Ardyn to leap as high as he can. Ardyn obliges her, and at the same time, Bella’s makes a motion with one hand and mutters a few arcane words. He soars far into the air; much farther than he could jump on his own. Being the athletic sort that he is he takes no damage from the sudden fall. As Ardyn lands, Corvin mutters, "That is what you get for trusting a thief".

It would appear that Bella has a newfound power. Interesting. I wonder if she also had a visitation in the night. Or if it is something rather more mundane and she has just advanced in power in the usual way.

In the morning, I cast Hand of Fate to try and determine where best to go next, but I get a very, very strange response. No information at all is revealed. I feel that I managed to contact Odin, but he just didn't want to respond. I wonder if that has anything to do with how quiet and peevish Corvin has been. He is obviously displeased with what we have managed to accomplish, but I get the impression that there is more to it than that.

Exceedingly eager to get rid of us, Lady Arethmere has managed to obtain a Scroll of Planar Portal, and she "subtly" indicates that she thinks that we should leave. Now. Or spend a month in the swamp waiting for the moon gate to open. We decide that it is time to return home so we use the scroll to portal back to Grimmsburg. 


Back in Grimmsburg things are more or less as we left them except for a massive rainstorm. It looks like Odin (or perhaps Thor) is rather upset.

The news is fairly dire. Apparently Cannon Wulgrin has had a visitation from Odin and the fragment of the Divine Engine that was kept in Odin’s vault in Valhalla has also been stolen, hence the storm outside. I think it is safe to assume that our enemies are now in possession of three of the five pieces of the divine engine. 

We fill in the Jarl and his inner council on what has occurred. Although it isn't likely to lead anywhere in particular various scribes start searching for the names of the drow in the records. Perhaps we'll get lucky. There is also ongoing research being conducted by Dean Danzig of the Scarlet Stone Academy that may possibly be lead somewhere. Apparently he’s close to discovering the location of one of the fragments, the one said to be located in the Shadowfell. The hope is that there will be more information in the library at Hammerfest.

We then all go our own ways for a couple of weeks. I head off to my village only to discover that the people in Grimmsburg refer to it as “Deviltown.” I admit that I kind of like that name. It has a certain ring to it.

Unfortunately, I also get disturbing news there. My sister Kallista is very unhappy with her position in charge there. She doesn't want the responsibility. She is a bard and being stuck in one place administering a fledgling settlement does not suite her. Also, as a human in whom the curse has never revealed itself she is resented by many of the tieflings there.

I'm honestly not sure how I'd have reacted even a few days ago, but now my response is immediate and crystal clear. I release her from her promise. I had no right to put her into that position.

The other news is also somewhat disturbing, as is my incredibly strong reaction to it. My father Ammon and my brother Leucis have been over at the village and are trying to get the inhabitants to start following their foolish dream to raise the fallen empire of Bhal Turath. I can't allow that. The goal of the village is to transform the tieflings both spiritually and physically. Oh, that goal is as distant and difficult as is the rebirth of Bhal Turath. But, if it is to have any chance at all, they must distance themselves from the dreams of the glory of yesteryear. They must look forward and not backwards.

I have to confront my father. I have to force him to leave my village alone. But how can I do that? Since my earliest days it has been drilled into me that I am of House Zolfura and that I must obey the head of the House (my father). To openly oppose my father is to give up my heritage, to disinherit myself. And it is a heritage that I have been proud of. Certainly my ancestors have done many awful things, but they have also done many things to be proud of, and they are my blood. 

Even as little as a fortnight ago I'm not sure that I'd have had the strength to turn my back on my heritage. But I find, to my considerable surprise, that the decision is now an easy one.

I'm not really sure what has changed. Perhaps it is just my adventures. But I think that it is mostly the dreams. More and more of his life is coming through. I now have a name. Allain. And he was a half elf. Well, half eladrin I suppose.

He was a commoner, an outcast from eladrin society. And he transcended that. He took up service with the Maiden of the Moon. He lived a full and happy life. And he also accomplished great things.  He knew what was important, and it certainly wasn't social posturing.

Perhaps it was Lady Arethmere that also helped to open my eyes. She is so like my father in so many ways. So like the way that I used to be. More concerned with power, reputation and family than anything else.

I go and lay down the law to my father. He and Leucis are to stay away from Deviltown, they are to leave the inhabitants alone. If they do not, then I will inform the Jarl about their illicit business dealings. If they try and have me killed or assassinated I will take whatever measures I need to in order to protect myself.

By these actions I have forfeited my right to be heir to House Zolfura. I am no longer of high birth. I am now a nobody, of no family and so much the better for it.

As if one crisis of the soul was insufficient, I have two more. I go to Canon Wulgrim to discuss how my connection to Odin seems weaker than it was, how the Hand of Fate ritual is now difficult to cast and far less revealing. He explains to me that what I've been fearing is, in fact, true. Since my trip to the Feywild, the Maiden of the Moon has altered my very soul. She has put a claim upon my soul, and this is greatly interfering with the fragment of Odin that I somehow obtained during my days at Thunderholme Abbey. 

I cannot serve two masters. It is not clear whether I even have a choice in the matter. But, if I do have a choice, I realize that I'd choose the Maiden. The life that she has shown me (assuming that I'm not just going crazy) is better than the one that I had. I've never been completely happy with the Skanzi goal of going to Valhalla for an eternity of endless fornication and cheap mead. And the one thing that I desperately want to lose, that I need to lose, is the constant sense of anger, the constant bloodlust. Odin inspires one to anger and to bloodlust; he doesn't help one to counter that. I still worship and serve Odin, but I no longer possess a piece of his divine energy.

Since I made that decision I've found that my anger is slowly decreasing. Not, at least yet, hugely. But it is diminishing. And since I've made my decision I've noticed my connection to the Feywild has been strengthening. I can almost shift through it, as does an eladrin. Not quite, but it’s close.

I've chosen to fully adopt the way of the Skald. Between what I can gather from dreams and what I can learn from Kali, I've managed to pick up a whole smattering of knowledge, including a few new Rituals. I've been training constantly these last few weeks. I was always reasonably good with the flute but now I've learned how to sing at least a little and gained the basics of various other instruments.

I've been practicing my physical skills as well. It’s amazing how quickly and easily I've been picking up things. It’s as if I'm remembering things as opposed to learning them for the first time.

And so several weeks passed. I've managed to replace Kali with a new tiefling mayor, Kairon by name. He isn't the most charming of people but he is a hard worker and a good administrator and is more than capable of knocking some heads together when required since he has seen considerable service as a mercenary. At least as importantly, he is a man of no pretensions and he shares my dream of a community where tieflings can grow up amongst their own kind.

Over the past several days, I've heard from Corvin that he is most unhappy with our lack of progress, and that he plans to pursue his own interests and no longer quest with us for the Divine Engine.

Finally after about three weeks of much needed downtime, we were called to a meeting with the Jarl. Harbek, a dwarven emissary from Hammerfest had come to Grimmsburg with bad news, especially for Turak. Recently there have been many raids on caravans going to or from Hammerfest, and it would appear that the Golden Horn Clan is responsible for the attacks. Harbeck had been sent to ask the Jarl for help investigating what has transpired that would cause the formerly peaceful minotaurs to turn to evil and lawlessness.

Turak is, of course, flabbergasted by this and wants to find out what is happening. The rest of us (well, except for Corvin) agree to accompany him.

________________________________________________________________

We head off by portal to Nimorzan’s Tower in Fallcrest where we have a rather amusing interlude with his apprentice Lazlo, a quite foolish Halfling wizard who has finally mastered the magic missile spell. He insists on demonstrating his skills, and takes us to the top of the tower. By this time night has fallen, and the little Halfling proceeds to shoot several magic missiles off into the darkness. I do the obvious, and I use my Ghost Sound cantrip to start having the darkness scream in agony as the missiles attack it. Yes, I'm certainly getting a lot more enjoyment out of life than I used to.

The next day we ascend to the skies on the backs of Giant Eagles. As always, Turak thoroughly hates the entire process while I am still exhilarated by the whole thing. We are following the caravan route to Hammerfest when we spy below us what appears to be the ruins of a caravan with several minotaurs looting it.

We land to investigate. 

There are only a handful of Minotaurs and Turak definitely recognizes them as embers of his clan. But accompanying the minotaurs are several demons. Some appear to be similar to orcs and I recognize them as Tanaruk, several are nasty little carnage demons, and their leader is a large demonic minotaur with blazing red eyes and steam blasting from his nostrils. It’s not a minotaur that Turak recognizes.

Turak attempts to reason with the minotaurs but, judging from the fact that the demons all charge us, I think that we have to consider this attempt at diplomacy a failure.

Harbek, a RunePriest of Odin, is quite a competent fighter. He uses Runes to create magical effects. The most interesting by far is an effect that stops enemies dead in their tracks as they get close to the source of the blazing rune. It only affects the enemies when they first enter into the zone. But when that is combined with a hypnotic pattern drawing the enemies back out of the zone the effect is considerable, and quite amusing to boot.

At least partially because I couldn't resist showing off, I summoned a plague of carnivorous hopping frogs to great effect. Admittedly, given that most of the demons were unable to move, it was hardly sporting. But I can control the frogs and stop them from actually killing anybody that I didn't want dead.

So, the net result was a fairly short and one-sided fight, that resulted in lots of dead demons and several unconscious but basically unharmed minotaurs. Well, unharmed until Turak got through with them, as the rest of us agreed with my suggestion to allow him to decide what to do with the prisoners.

He first questioned his kin, determining the obvious. The Minotaurs have turned away from the spirits and are now worshipping Baphomet. We also find out that the instigator of this was the shaman of the clan, somebody who Turak knew and used to respect. After first humiliating the prisoners by showing that he is far stronger and more powerful than any of them, he then decides that a fitting punishment would be to remove one horn from each of them. Apparently for Minotaurs this is a massive disgrace, and I expect quite painful too.

We then release the minotaurs and remount the eagles to head off to his clan’s labyrinth. While the Minotaurs will doubtless also head back to the clan, we'll be there long before them and so will be able to attack with the advantage of surprise.


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## PHDungeon (Mar 26, 2011)

Bella's journal


Session 40:  I’m just a Girl

The tunnel shakes, collapsing around us as we run hand in hand for our lives.  The cleric runs with easy strides that I am envious of him as he pulls me ahead and away from danger.  The hand that grips mine is strong, and he does not look at me while he runs, always looking ahead with grim determination and never giving up.  He is a far more noble soul then I could ever hope to be and looking at him now in this dire situation I find hope where I normally would see none.  If I were alone, as I normally would be, I would just give up and die but with Bjorn at my side I feel that he will somehow find a way to save us, as he always has.

The ground heaves suddenly beneath our feet and Bjorn falls to the ground as I am thrown forward.  Looking back I see him sliding into the dark recess of the tunnel as if being pulled by some unseen force.  His fingers dig into the dirt and he screams my name desperately.  I can hear whispers in the dark, malicious and horrible, barely understood but clear in intent.  They laugh gleefully and lament on the tortures they will visit upon their victim as he is dragged nearer and nearer.  If the clerics body reaches the dark abyss he will suffer for all eternity and never return.

I stand and take a step forward toward my friend when the ground yawns open at my feet and I am separated from Bjorn by a huge chasm.  The smell of the grave rises up from the inky void and I am terrified knowing I am incapable of such a leap.  I look out across the pit and see Bjorn’s legs being pulled into the shadow at the back of the tunnel and I hear the voices trill in triumph.  His eyes are wide with terror and I hear the sound of claws rending clothing and then flesh.  His scream of torment rings in my ears and reaches into my soul.  His tear filled gaze meets mine, pleading with me to save him.

Steeling myself and seeing no other choice I leap from the precipice with all my meager strength into the air….

And hit the wall.

Ouch.

I feel a cold floor underneath me and have a sharp pain along the length of my body that brings me quickly to my senses. I raise my sweat-covered head and look around.  My memories are slow in arriving, but as my nightmare retreats from my conscious mind I can recall my surroundings and I pull myself up.  I am in one of the guest quarters of an Eladrin noble family’s household.

Unconsciously my armor had reverted to its true form instead of the nightgown I make it become when sleeping.  Thankfully the leather had absorbed the brunt of the impact when I hit the wall.  I look over my shoulder and find my bed several feet away.

Now how did that happen?

I step back to my bed across the room.  I hear Melech and Ardyn come to my door to see if I’m all right.  Apparently I had screamed upon waking.  I frown and chastise myself for being careless.  A changeling’s safety lies in….

I stop, realizing that I had just taken a single step to cross my room.

Turning to the door I lift off the ground and glide gracefully to it, silver winds manifesting around me and lifting me into the air.  Unlocking my chamber I walk into the hallway.

“Sorry, Ardyn. Melech.  I just had a bad dream, nothing to worry about.”

Both my companions regard me with concern, not for my well being I realize, but for my sanity.  They had heard my body strike the wall and knowing I was alone can only guess what I was up to.

I can feel the Mark filling my head with the knowledge of how to use my new ability, the information settles in until it is indistinguishable from my own memories.  I now know how to use my new ability as if I had always known.  The power is one of my sorceress abilities and is not from the Mark like my command of languages and rituals.  The Mark however contains much arcane knowledge and can teach me things in moments what most people take years to learn.  As time passes and it becomes more powerful it is getting increasingly difficult to tell which knowledge is mine and which is the Marks.  I clutch my head in a fleeting concern over the loss of my sense of self.

Taking a deep breath I look into my friends eyes and am brought back to the present.

“Actually, I could use your help Ardyn.  It seems I have acquired a new ability and I think it can benefit more than just me.  I would have preferred Turak’s help but you cannot wake up that cow until he’s ready to wake up.  If you want to assist follow me outside.”

The elf and teifling are suspicious but follow me outside anyway.  I lead Ardyn to the center of a small courtyard under the stars while Melech leans against a wall and watches.

I step back and focus my mind, I feel the silver wind surround me blowing at my hair and whispering in my ears like half forgotten demons.  I send it forward and it surrounds the elf.  He stands there, uncertain what to do.

“Jump as high as you can”, I command.

To his credit he does not hesitate and is carried by the wind about forty feet into the air.  To be honest he could have guided his flight.  When I share this ability it is the other persons will that commands the winds not mine.  Perhaps it was the lateness of the hour or the elf trusted me so much that he did not think. The magic wears off and he falls. Being an elf, however, he gracefully lands on the ground.

“That’s what you get for trusting her,” Corvin brazenly whispers and returns inside.

“Sorry”, I apologize, “New ability.  Thank-you.”

The elf neither looks offended or impressed.  We return to our rooms shortly after.



Afterwards the heroes return to Grimsburg and Bella is able to work in her workshop on a couple of new magic items.



Completing the enchantment over the gloves I watch with a smile of satisfaction as the arcane aura that surrounds them fades to nothing.  My breath is quick not just with excitement but also from exertion.  My arcane powers have never come easily to me but they have increased.   I have decided that it was time to re-cast the aura mask on my equipment, but I can only do one piece of equipment a day.  As such, a process that would have been a trifle for Melech and taken an afternoon, I have needed a week and exhausted myself after each casting.

My work now complete I take my trusty Endless Quiver and my precious crossbow from my workbench and within seconds they disappear from my hands.  I can still feel them at the tip of my fingers ready to be called back at my whim.  I examine my hands critically, using my arcane sight.  I fail to see a magical aura.  It worked.  I release a breath I didn’t realized I was holding.

Standing I walk over to my full-length mirror willing my armor to change from normal clothes to a ball gown.  The white gloves are made with a sturdy but luxurious material that matches the gown beautifully.  With a deft hand I begin putting up my hair and look at myself critically in the mirror.  Again I focus my arcane sight.  The dress, though enchanting, does not appear enchanted.  I focus on my neck.  I had been able apply the magic for a cloak of distortion onto a lovely silver necklace that shimmers with precious stones.  I am pleased to note that it also appears mundane.  Raising my sleeve I subjected the decorative metal armband I find there to the same inspection and with the same result.

I see myself looking smug in the mirror.  I appear to be some rich tart ready to go to the ball and snag some handsome prince.  Someone that anyone would look at, and if they didn’t know me, would think the most dangerous thing I could do is break hearts.  Smiling to myself in the mirror I unleash the enchantment of my items and in seconds I am in my armor with my quiver over my shoulder and my bow ready.  Belladonna Nightshade is my chosen name.  It is a lovely and innocent looking flower that can be made into deadly poison.  With every passing day it is becoming more appropriate.


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## PHDungeon (Mar 31, 2011)

Here are two journals from Smar's POV regarding the last couple of sessions.

The spirits weave strange wills. I once told myself that I could control my bloodlust. I once told myself that I would never hurt an innocent. I am not sure if I followed those rules today. My pack’s plan was good. We would head to the house where the drow had stayed, find out where they went, track them down, and retrieve the magic item that could stop the end of the natural world. The spirits should have been proud. Like most hunts, this one turned to chaos the moment our paws took us in the direction of our query. 

A one eyed giant exited the building right as I picked up an elf’s body out of the trash. I don’t think I ever expected to find myself in that situation, but one of my pack can speak with the dead. The plan made sense at the time. I tried to pretend to be a beggar; a dog looking for scraps to eat. I don’t make a good dog anymore. The maid saw my fangs, my axes, and started to back away. If she raised an alarm my pack would have become the hunted. She was helping clear a house of a brutal murder, a brutal murder that her people condoned. I had no time to think. I acted. My axe sprung to my hands and cut her throat before I had time to consider the full ramifications of my actions. Was this my bloodlust coming to the surface? She had no weapons. Can I honestly say that she was any guiltier of brutality than me? But it was too late. 

When my pack heard the voice of a living elf in the house we sprang to action again. I allowed the wolf to take my flesh. I became the spirit of the hunter. In the house my teeth, my axes, were a blur. The warriors died well. But, another maid ran to open the front door. This would have allowed more guards to pour into the house. It was too late again. I climbed up her back from behind, using one axe to hoist myself up the flesh of her back, and the other to open her jugular. Who was the monster in this story, the one eyed giants, or me?

In any case, we saved the elf. She knew the pattern for a teleportation circle. My shape shifting pack mate used it to take us into the halls of the Eladrin. Eladrin who worshiped the Lady of the Moon. The very same Lady of the Moon responsible for the butchery of my people. If the spirits considered my actions in this city under the earth to be reprehensible, I was about to give them the chance to see to my execution.


The spirits were not offended enough to call for my life. The Eladrin were rude. Of course, I expected no better from a follower of the Lady of the Moon (odd to think that one such has become a packmate—ah well, I suppose necessity makes strange burrow mates). Then again, these Eladrin treated Melek little better, despite their common patron. It seems that they mistreat everyone who is not Eladrin. Still, they gave us a place to stay, and the means by which to return to the forests, hills, and plains, that me and my pack calls home. If they tore up our means of returning to their ‘fair’ city, what is it to me? I would never willingly return to this cesspit of meat, unfit even to be prey, anyways. 

In Grimmsburg luck favoured my pack. The Odin worshiper who kept calling me ‘dog’ left. I cannot be more thankful. I was starting to consider killing him in his sleep. If I did it during my watch, I might have been able to eat the body before my companions awoke. I jest, of course. But his choice to leave us has left me howling at the moon in glee. Of course, it would be nice if we were not promptly joined by another of his Aesir worshiping kin, but at least this one is not a Skanzi. A dwarf rune priest of Odin has taken the Skanzi’s place. Hopefully this one will not show quite as much disdain for my brethren. Hopefully I will be able to avoid showing this one quite as much disdain for his choice of pantheon.

Soon enough my pack hears of another track in our hunt. It seems that the tribe of man-bulls from which Turak hails has been attacking the dwarfs of Hammerfast. Our pack quickly jumped onto eagles called forth by Melek and went to investigate. I feel for Turak. A brief encounter with a group of his tribe made it quite clear that they have been corrupted. I know what it is like to lose one’s people to their bloodlust. Killing my kin in the city of the one eyed giants felt like I was cutting my own flesh. Still, they were lost to their own insanity. They left me no choice. Now, it seems, Turak’s people are leaving him as few options.


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## PHDungeon (Apr 2, 2011)

Session #41

DMs Note: This was by far the most deadly session we've had thus far in the campaign. The session consisted of three character deaths and one petrification. Nasty.

PCs
Melek (level 16,Tiefling, hybrid warlock/wizard) 
Bella (level 17, Changeling rogue with a touch of sorcerer) 
Turak (level 16, Minotaur, Warden) 
Ardyn (level 16, Elf, Ranger) 
Smar (level 16, Shifter, Ranger) 
Harbek (level 16, Dwarf, Runepriest)

Melek's Journal:

As we fly towards the minotaur home we discuss our options. According to Turak there are 2 entrances into the inner sanctum of the labyrinth where he expects Oostarix the shaman will likely be found. One of them is the main entrance and is well guarded by warriors. The other is a secret entrance that leads to the cow chambers and hence to the sanctum. Although not guarded by warriors it is well guarded by traps.

Having perhaps grown a little wiser since our frontal assault on Harrowthane we decide that we should take the unguarded route. We land outside the doorway without incident.

As Smar, Bella and Ardyn argue over who is the best at detecting and disarming traps and hence should have the honour of leading our foray, Turak gets even more impatient than is his norm and pushes his way past the three of them and strides boldly into the Labyrinth. The rest of us follow, Ardyn kindly agreeing to be the rearguard.

As we enter we are all assaulted by a psychic impression of pure and unadulterated evil. We all get even more testy than usual. The rage that I had thought was almost under control is seething within me. I thrust it down but really, really hope that it will not rise up and consume me.

We proceed quickly into the maze. Turak never hesitates at any junction but just strides forward. Either he was extremely promiscuous as a wee lad or something is giving him more information than he should have. As he rounds one corner he suddenly gives a bellow of rage and charges. Smar then heads up to the corner and also quickly rushes down the corridor, as does Harbek. Bella is a little more cautious and she just peeks around the corner but is also affected. I am the only one who uses a modicum of intelligence, and I put a mirror out into the corridor with a mage hand and study the scene through its image.

The corridor goes a few dozen feet. At the end is some foul altar constructed of various animal carcasses. As I watch, Turak charges to the altar, barely avoiding falling into a pit trap in the process. He then smacks at it, damaging it slightly. Bella shoots Turak in the back. Smar races forward as does Harbek. All is confusion and noise. I'm not actually sure who did what but suddenly there was a loud explosion as the altar blew up. In the aftermath, with my ears ringing, all that I could hear was Smar telling Turak to NOT attack altars and Bella muttering something about "But I had to shoot Turak, it was the only way to slow him down". 

Turak is very eager to move forward. Very, very eager. He is obviously being even more influenced by this foul place than are the rest of us. I am able to use my arcane magics to somewhat reduce the vile influence on him while Bella manages to convince him that a short rest would be best for all of us. While he is nearly pawing the ground in his frustration and annoyance he concedes the point and lets us rest a few minutes to regain our strength.

A close examination of the remnants of the altar revealed that it had parts of various animals, including a Unicorn. It looks very much like a foul ritual had been performed here, a ritual that takes the still beating heart of a magical animal and imbues the eater of the heart with supernatural abilities related to the slain creature. The horn has doubtless become some form of magical weapon.

We then proceed deeper into the fortress. As before, Turak is in the lead almost running in his impatience to arrive at our destination. We enter a huge chamber. It consists of a chasm hundreds of feet across, too far for even my Arcane Gate to reach to the other side of. We are about a hundred feet above the floor. Stretching ahead of us are a few platforms separated by distances too large for at least some of us to jump. The bridges that usually span the chamber are inconveniently (albeit expectedly) absent. We have two alternative means to traverse the chamber. We could descend to the floor and ascend the other side. Alternatively we could try and make it from column top to column top.

Bella squeals excitedly that she can get us across with her new found wind power. I've seen children at the winter solstice who are less excited to use their new toys than Bella is to use hers. I'm doing her a disservice by that. Her powers are incredibly useful, and we all take a perfectly legitimate pleasure and pride in using our abilities. Actually, it is quite a refreshing change to see her enjoy herself like she does. Perhaps I'm not the only one altered by the Feywild.

At any rate, she and Harbek proceed across the chamber. Unfortunately, they do not make it all the way, for suddenly an enormous Behir reveals itself from behind one of the stone columns and attacks them. 

The rock pillar on which Harbek and the beast stands IS reachable with my Arcane Gate, so I rapidly open one, and most of our party charges through to engage the beast in hand to hand combat. I ask Bella to use her sorcerous winds to fly me over to the top of a different column, one where I will be in range of the Behir but hopefully out of its grasp.

A fierce combat then ensues. The Behir is a devastatingly powerful opponent, crackling with lightning. Anybody standing within several yards of it is hit by lightning constantly. It moves insanely quickly for an animal of its size and gets many devastating attacks with mouth and claws in a short space of time.

I wish that I could laud my role in this battle. But I find that the evil miasma of this place is very severely affecting my concentration. Or, at least, that is what I wish to blame for my complete failure to even hit the animal, let alone teleport it into the air, as was my goal. All of the half dozen spells that I sent at it missed it completely, not even getting close enough to bounce of its hide. Perhaps it is the will of Odin. The master of the lightning bolt and a creature of lightning? Or maybe I have just completely lost my touch.

Both the Behir and ourselves realize that a fine tactic is to toss somebody off the edge of the pillar. Initially, Bella’s and my attempts to make the creature lose its grip on the rock with well placed spells and bolts are unsuccessful, as are its attempt to toss any of our companions into the chasm. Our warriors engage it in hand to hand combat, I snipe ineffectually from my rock, and Bella first finds a safe place on the other side of the chamber and then joins into combat.

We are substantially damaging it when the first of what would appear to be a disaster occurs. A swipe from the monster sends Ardyn plummeting off the column they are on, to what I had foolishly assumed would be his doom. But he manages to slow his descent by grabbing onto an occasional handhold and then does an amazing acrobatic roll at the end. Not only is he not slain, he even lands on his feet.

But it does take him out of the fight for awhile. Not very long, mind you, as he is an incredibly skilled climber and quickly scales the column in a matter of a few seconds with the help of his trusty magical Rope of Climbing.

The battle continues above with the Behir taking the worst of it. But then disaster truly does strike. The Behir manages to concentrate its attacks on Turak and knocks him unconscious and then hurls the unconscious body off the rock. While this isn't enough to kill Turak, he expires before any of us can manage to descend down to aid him. Bella in particular tries to get down there but fails to arrive in time.

Fortunately, Turak’s death is the last triumph for the Behir, and as it tries to scuttle off to devour its prey, we manage to dispatch it, sending its body plummeting to the ground.

We then make use of the scroll of Raise Dead that we had been carrying these many weeks. It appears Turak feels that his mission on this world is not complete since his soul agrees to return. Not even death removes the effect upon Turak since he immediately wants to resume our journey onwards.

We fairly quickly arrived at the outer sanctum. There were several chambers, the innermost of which contains the doorway to the Inner Sanctum. Acting as a moat to that sanctum, complete with poisoned stakes, was a pit at the far end of the chamber crossed by a single bridge.

The chamber had two inhabitants. A huge demon vaguely resembling a minotaur held within a summoning circle inscribed on the floor, and a minotaur much larger than usual who Turak recognized. While the beast had always been a formidable fighter he was not previously of his current stature.

We approached the chamber. Bella was, quite reasonably, afraid to shoot the Minotaur since her shot would cross the circle. Unfortunately, it turns out that she should have taken her shot since a moment later a single word from the minotaur unleashed the demon anyway.

Our warriors rushed forward while Bella and I stayed at the rear. As they confronted the demon, Bella shot the minotaur, and the bolt causes It to stagger backwards and fall into the pit. Judging from the screams and curses that then came from the pit, it apparently had failed to miss all of the spikes.

Then another minotaur suddenly appeared out of thin air attacking Bella from behind. It was wielding a unicorn horn as a weapon and apparently had some ability to go invisible. And, also at the rear, a savage, demonic minotaur charged out of a side passage and tried to impale me on its horns, thankfully missing. Fortunately, I was able to blast the demon minotaur with eldritch power and, using the boon granted me by the Maiden, cause it to briefly enter the Feywild and reappear 20 feet away in the room with the other raging demon where it could be dispatched by our warriors.

Between Harbek, Bella and myself we quickly dispatched the minotaur with the unicorn horn. The fight between the other two demons and our three mighty warriors was a little longer lived but never really in issue. Smar is quite arrogant and quite foolish. While demanding healing from Harbek he flagrantly shows contempt for both the dwarf and his God, the great Odin. Harbek is, for the moment, letting his tactical wisdom and feeling of loyalty to one’s comrades overcome this and is providing the healing. But I'm not at all sure how long he will continue to do so if Smar doesn't mend his ways.

Meanwhile, from the pit behind us we heard various noises. At one point the large minotaur almost made it out before slipping and falling back. It was not until the two demons had been dispatched that the battered beast finally managed to emerge to attack us.

It would seem that the spirit of whimsy was high in all of us since we seemed more eager to push him back into the pit than to just kill him. Unfortunately, that wasn't possible and we were forced to the more mundane solution of slaying him outright.

Again it was all that we could do to dissuade Turak from charging forward, but with difficulty, we managed to convince him to let us rest a little.

After flying over the bridge we smashed open the doors to the Inner Sanctum.

The doors opened to reveal an appalling stench and an even worse sight. In the centre of a large chamber was a large rectangular pool filled with body parts, foul, bubbling sludge, and demons slowly swimming up to the surface. At the far end of the chamber on a raised dais was an altar behind which a minotaur shaman incanted a ritual. Affixed to his head was the iron, horned crown that had been described to us by our minotaur prisoners back on the road. In the chamber itself were perhaps a dozen or two demons, both the kinds that we had previously fought on the road and two minotaur guards.

Turak gave a bellow and charged through the room towards the altar. Fairly quietly at first but louder and louder as the battle raged he kept muttering the words "Beat him down, take the Crown". While it rhymes it is clearly not up to the high standards that I've come to expect. Still, it is minotaur magic and so I suppose one shouldn't expect too much.

The rest of us also entered the chamber and battle was joined.

In the first few seconds a few extremely unpleasant facts were established. Demons were coming out of the pool at an alarming rate. Unless something could be done, we'd be overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

I used the fey powers granted to me to teleport one of the demons into the pool. Unfortunately, the pool caused it no harm. I've read about such pools in my studies and realized that it would be possible for me to at least temporarily suppress the pool by manipulating the magic energies being transferred to it from the demon altar and the shaman. The pool is not a pool so much as a gate to the foul home of the Demons- a portal to the realm of Baphomet.

Unfortunately, to do so was going to be about all that I could do for most of the fight.

But I had little choice if we were to prevail.

The combat broke down into several separate but related fights. Ardyn was fighting one larger demon and some minor ones, Harbek and Smar some others, Turak charged up to fight Oostarix the shaman at the altar, I was focusing my efforts on dealing with the pool, and Bella was flitting about being unusually ineffective as she couldn't really decide what she wanted to accomplish. She first headed over to the altar but didn't get involved in that fight and instead sniped at various enemies on our side of the battle.

Our forces were quite spread out and we were greatly outnumbered. Although we managed to put down several demons quite quickly we were soon in danger of being overwhelmed. The crucial juncture arrived when Harbek fell to axe wielding Tanaruk. Although controlling the pool was taking up nearly all of my energies I managed to call up sufficient reserves to launch a Prismatic Burst, buying us a little time. Unfortunately, the edge of it clipped Harbek as well which may have contributed to his eventual fate. While I deeply regret the decision that I had to make I think that I'd make the same decision again. By hitting Harbek I also manage to hit an additional enemy and that was probably essential.

At one point my control of the pool nearly slipped. Although I managed to get the control back the effort cost me dearly.

I note that two foul minotaurs in the midst of the main melee, have partaken of a blasphemous ritual with the heart of a gorgon since they are both able to breath some form of gas capable of turning one to stone. Fortunately, I was able to quickly knock aside the gas with my magic. Smar was also caught in the gas, I hope that he too has some means of overcoming it.

I called out to Bella to get over and help keep us alive. Without somebody to distract our enemies we'd all soon fall. To my surprise, she started to make her way over. She is obviously braver than I'd given her credit for.

For a little bit of time my various defensive abilities kept me up through the assaults. I stayed up long enough to actually shut down the gate at the bottom of the pool but, before I could exalt in my triumph, I was knocked senseless.

I came too to find the battle still raging. Smar had obviously succumbed to the gas, as he was now a stone statue. I was in the concealment granted by a primal fog that Smar can summon. A very battered Ardyn was giving me first aid. Bella was also in the mist, looking the worse for wear and sniping away at the demons. Turak had managed to beat down the shaman but was resisting the call of the Horned Crown. In fact, as I awoke he was tossing the crown across the room.

With the death of the shaman the demons seemed to become even less controlled than usual, and fortunately two of them attacked the remaining minotaur guard, dispatching him fairly quickly but getting damaged in the process.

One of the remaining demons struck Ardyn unconscious. Bella and I withdrew, hoping to draw the demons with us and away from the bodies of our fallen comrades. Alas, it wasn't to be and one of them hacked the unconscious Ardyn to pieces.

Fortunately for all of us, the demons were also on their last legs and at least as interested in killing Turak as in killing us. We managed to slay all of the demons without further casualties.

As the battle ended, we looked for the crown but it was missing. While Bella started a ritual to open a portal back to Grimmsburg, I quickly searched the area, finding some magic items, some scrolls describing the foul magical rituals that these scum were using, and some useful magical components amongst the detritus that nobody of good conscience would use. We then returned to Grimmsburg, bringing with us the bodies of our two dead companions and the statue of our third.


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## PHDungeon (Apr 9, 2011)

This is a recount of Session #41 from Bella's point of view.


Session 41:  Plan ‘T’

It’s been a bad day.

Turak has been acting strangely since we got here.  The dumb cow has been blissfully silent but uncharacteristically moody.  He pushes us forward constantly, at first I believed it was stress because his entire clan seems to have fallen under demonic influence, but we had barely entered his labyrinth before all of us realized it was something more.  This place is foul.

I have gleefully shot Turak twice.  The first time at a disturbing altar we discovered that was made of a desecrated unicorn corpse.  Merely looking at it enchanted a person into walking towards it and compelled the person to destroy it, likely triggering several nasty traps in the process. I shot him to try and slow him down.  Even after Turak was able to resist the altar's affects he still walked up and smashed it.  The thing of course exploded in blast of abyssal energy and badly injured Smar.  When I first shot the bull, Smar believed I had been dominated, now he was only too happy to see me shoot him again.  We rested while Smar gathered his strength and nursed his wounds.  Turak paced the entire time.

Our next task was a giant canyon.  Pillars of rock rose out of the dark depths and it was obvious that bridges had once connected them, but they had been cut down.  I was able to use my new abilities to propel my companions across the gaps, but only two at a time. We were almost across when a giant Behir scuttled out from behind one of the great rock columns and attacked us.  Harbek the dwarf stood alone against it, our party spread out across the enormous gaps but only for a few moments as Melech used his Arcane Gate to get the rest of the party to Harbek's aid.  It was a hard fight, the creature thrashed at us and even managed to toss a few of us off the pillar.  Fortunately the first to fall was the elf, the only one that could drop from 100 feet and sustain only minor injuries.  As I learn about their race, I despise them more every day.  The other was, tragically, Turak and to the surprise of everyone the fall managed to kill him.

After the fight was over I leapt to Turak’s corpse and used our precious Raise Dead scroll to return him to us.  He was still eager to press on, it would seem that even death would not deter him from whatever was driving him forward.

Our next trial was the priest of the Golden Horn clan and a great demon bound to a summoning circle.  This is the second time that I was permitted to shoot Turak as his bumbling forward would have disrupted the magic holding the demonic threat at bay.  It proved to be for naught as a nasty minotaur priest only had to speak a command word and the demon was unleashed upon us.  It could have been another nasty fight, but fortunately I was able to strike the shaman with an arrow and send him sprawling back into a spiked filled pit behind him.  He somehow survived, but when he finally managed to climb out we had already killed his demon and his re-enforcements.  We rewarded his triumph through perseverance with a quick death. 

The last chamber lay beyond.

Now here we are.  Turak has engaged the chief of the Golden Horn clan in melee combat leaving his friends to face a small army of demons and corrupted minotaurs.  The pit in the center of the chamber produced an endless supply of minions.  Fortunately Melech was eventually able to overcome it’s magic but it was the most grisly battle I had ever been in.  I watched as our party fell to their onslaught one by one.  First the dwarf fell and his unconscious body was savaged by a demon.  The minotaurs seemed to have gotten extra powers from dark rituals and their very breath turned Smar into a stone statue.  Melech and Ardyn remained and both were badly injured and it was at this moment that the teifling beseeched me for aid.

I should have ran.

I remember looking longingly at the door and knowing with certainty that I could escape.  It occurred to me that I could finance a new group of heroes, I did not have to die here. Then an unwelcome thought ambushed me.

What would Bjorn think of me?

The thought took me by surprise but it spurred me into action.  Instead of running to the door I put myself between my companions and the demons.  Unfortunately I came too late to save Ardyn but Melech and I were able to kill the rest of our enemies.

Turak had been victorious in his battle.  The crown upon the chief’s head had been enticing him to take the fallen chieftains place but in the end he was able to overcome its enchantment.

Grimly, we departed for home through a linked portal.


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## PHDungeon (Apr 9, 2011)

The following is Smar's take on Session #41


It is strange, thinking back on the events that happened. I have lost days of life. I am told I made a good hall ornament in that time. We entered into the mountain of Turak’s tribe. It was even worse than I had imagined. His people were completely corrupted, their minds gone, their bodies twisted. Turak led us through a back door, but the way was littered with heresies against nature. A unicorn had been butchered, its body desecrated, its horn removed; a result of a ritual designed to steal the power of the spirit world, I am told. His people had begun to raise demons made out of the gore of the dead. A door to hell had been opened. His Shaman, once a devout follower of the spirits, had allowed hell to enter into his soul. 

Still, all was not ill. We hunted down a massive lightning breathing dragon-like beast with more legs than an entire pack of deer. I managed to strike the killing blow, and as luck would have it, even as its body slid into the black depths bellow the platform on which we fought the beast, its head was torn off by jutting stalagmites. Its horns have made very nice trophies! And its teeth, they make nice additions to the bones tied into my hair. 

We also fought a minotaur larger than any I have seen before. I am told it is a type of demon, a war machine of the Abyss. It too died, along with all the corrupted who fought along its side. But then things went very wrong. There were simply too many demons defending Turak’s one-time spirit guide. First I saw the dwarf fall. Then, as I fought to try and defend my blood brother, one of the creatures breathed on me. Its breath was even more foul than the stink of corpses in the room. But, who would have guessed that its breath could turn a wolf’s fur to stone? Before I knew it I was swallowed in blackness, my last memory was that of my skin turning as hard as rock. I could only pray that my brother Ardyn would escape alive.

And then I awoke. Somehow, the dwarf was still alive. I could have sworn I saw him fall! But we were in Grimsburg again. Magic, I am told, revived the fallen and undid the affliction that had suspended me as rock. It is good to move again. It is good to feel my muscles tire as I run. Soon we will head back to Hammerfest.


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## PHDungeon (Apr 10, 2011)

GM Note: This was a landmark game session, in that after 42 sessions of play Bella finally meets her end.

Here's Melek's journal from session #42.

I've decided that it is time to start recording the tale of our adventures for posterity.

While previously I'd often taken the time to quietly reflect on what had transpired I hadn't made a permanent record of those thoughts, partly from a lack of a strong desire and partly from concern that the records not fall into the wrong hands.

I now find that my desire to keep a record is far stronger than it used to be. I am unsure if that is because of changes in myself, or just my coming to the realization that the true record of our acts is the best memorial I can make to the friends and companions who have fallen.

I will safeguard these records to at least some extent. First I will write them in the Southern tongue. And they are also encrypted with an Eladrin cipher that Allain seems to have taught me in my dreams. 

This seems to be a good place to set down what we know about the Cult of Elemental Evil.

The cult is organized as independent units that know little or nothing of each other’s activities. This means that if one unit is compromised the others can continue to function unimpeded.

One such arm of the cult was the Yellow Skulls. These operated out of Nentir Vale and their activities were disrupted and the cult itself destroyed by my companions prior to my joining them.

There is also known to be a group operating out of Old Nerath, out of the Temple of Elemental Evil. The temple lies in an old fortress in the Chaos Mountains south of Nerath overlooking the Plains of Chaos. It is said that the borders between this world and the Elemental Chaos are weak within the plains and that there places there where one can cross over.

Their goal is the freeing of an entity variously known as The Elder Elemental Eye or the Slumberer. It is said to be a Primordial or even the Creator of Primordials.

It is with considerable sadness that I note that today Bella was slain. I am not sure if she will find some satisfaction and sense of professional pride in the fact that she died in exactly the same way that she liked to kill, by somebody striking from the shadows. I suspect not, but I can hope.

But, I should start closer to the beginning.

After we returned to Grimmsburg from the Golden Horn Clan Labyrinth we spent the next few days raising and restoring our friends and attending to some personal business. I went to the temple of Odin and formally left his service, as respectfully and forthrightly as possible. I was (and am) quite sincere when I expressed the fact that I still worship Odin and will still continue to do his bidding in this world. But my heart is no longer that of a Skanzi Warrior, and I truly feel unworthy of the honour that he had bestowed upon me. And I definitely have an allegiance to the Maiden as well as to Odin, an allegiance stronger than that felt by a warrior to his Jarl.

I am not sure if my insanity is gaining ground or if the other soul within me is gradually being merged with mine but my transition seems to have completed itself either in the Labyrinth or shortly thereafter. I now have a far greater facility with an entire range of skills than was previously my want. Intellectual, social, physical, it matters not. While I am a long way from being a master of everything I am most certainly quite competent and everything that I have tried.

No, this cannot be insanity; or at least, not merely insanity. While I could be fooling myself about my ability to ride a horse or darn a sweater, I am not fooling myself when I say that I can now cast two rituals, musical skaldic rituals, that I was previously unable to do. And I am not fooling myself when I say that I was able to quickly and easily master some far more advanced Bardic rituals that I learned at Skaldsholme.

I also went and had a chat with Bella. I expressed to her my gratitude that she had stayed behind when the situation had seemed very dire and not abandoned us. Although she disclaimed any need for that gratitude I believe that she was, in fact, at least slightly pleased. I may be fooling myself but I'd like to believe that she did, in her own way, appreciate that acknowledgement. I'd like to believe that she saw us as something more than useful companions. I know that I tried to make her my friend.

I am now somewhat in debt to a moneylender that reports to Bella. I needed the money to purchase some Bardic rituals and an appropriate focus. I was a little surprised to be drawn to the Tambourine as my instrument of choice. Hardly a traditional Skanzi instrument. But it just felt completely right in my hands. The Skanzi part of me thinks that it may be a silly instrument for a powerful male wizard. But the elven "part" of me thinks that it is a fine instrument for both sexes, one that has historically been associated with many cultures and even used in a martial context. Not surprisingly, my companions turned out to mostly agree with the Skanzi part of me.

After all of our companions were restored to health and after we'd finished processing the various materials we had found into Ritual components we decided to head off to Hammerfest. We had to inform the dwarves of the status of the Golden Horn minotaur clan and we also wished to check the library there in the hope that we would find more information on the Divine Engine.

My companions were quite amused by my new sartorial tastes. Again, I think that this is just the hyper aggressive masculinity of the Skanzi speaking. There is nothing at all wrong with somebody wearing nice, pretty clothing.

Now that I see that in writing, I realize how strange that is. Perhaps it wasn't my companions who are wrong but it is instead me. It has just occurred to me that I've been assuming that Allain was a male. But Allayne is a woman’s name. 

I suddenly find myself wondering how rich a sense of humour the Maiden of the Moon has. She IS Fey, after all, and likely old enough to be bored and seeking amusement.

Bella opened up a portal to Fallcrest where we intended to immediately go off by Giant Eagle towards Hammerfest. However, once at Fallcrest we quickly learned that a small party of Frost Giants consisting of a Giantess and a handful of guards had been sighted near town heading along the river towards Grimmsburg. There was no indication that they were marauding or attacking villages, so far as we could tell they seemed to be peaceful.

We consulted with the leader at Fallcrest and decided that we should investigate. So I cast my ritual to summon Giant Eagles.

I was quite surprised to find that instead of Eagles what appeared were Pegasi. My companions were variously amused or appalled at the thought of flying on such beautiful creatures instead of the more usual Eagles. One could almost feel sorry for poor Smar, he was so clearly upset at the very concept of mounting something so elegant and beautiful. At least Ardyn seemed to appreciate the Pegasi, even giving the one that he was riding a name.

We flew off on our glorious steeds along the river towards where the Giants had been sighted. To our surprise, we came across a scene of combat at a cliff edge as a larger force of Frost Giants led by one mounted upon a mammoth were attacking the smaller band that we had heard tell of. And the new force was very clearly winning the fight.

The band that we'd been tracking hadn't been marauding, and they were the underdog. For no better reasons than that we decided to intervene on their behalf. Fortunately, that turned out to be the correct decision.

Smar was so eager to leave his mount that he hurled himself off from 50 feet in the air, landing on a Frost Giant. The rest of us landed somewhat more sedately and combat was joined.

All of us had the same idea of pushing our opponents over the cliff edge. Smar has a newfound power that allows him to summon up primal winds that he can use to buffet his opponents. Bella used her bolts that cause the giants to stagger backward. I attempted to use my ability to teleport my enemies.

Unfortunately, none of us succeeded. The giants and mammoth were just too large and too resistant to our magics. Although we got some near the edge we were unable to get any of them to actually fall.

Fortunately, they were no match for the more pedestrian use of our powers and we prevailed, although not before I was severely injured by the Mammoth. One of the Giants tried to surrender but he was slain. Not by Smar as I'd expected, but instead by one of the escorts of the Giantess. The mammoth and its bow wielding rider fled into the wilderness.

The Giantess was Sonia Orelsdottir, the wife of Jarl Grundersson, leader of the Mammoth Tusk Clan. She had been heading to Grimmsburg to seek the help of Jarl Sturgleson.

Grundersson had been, by giant standards, a peaceful ruler who had his people primarily hunt for mammoths in the northern tundra as opposed to raiding. This changed when a massive Frost Giant (more likely an Ice Titan) calling himself Thrym showed up with Ulmir, the great White Dragon. 

Thrym is somebody out of legend. As I remember the Edda, he and his entire band were slain by Loki and Thor after he had stolen Mjöllnir. And, if I am remembering the tale correctly, Thor succeeded only by dressing in a rather pretty dress. It would seem that the Aesir are less relentlessly masculine than the Skanzi.

Whether or not this really is the Thrym of legend, he has taken over the Mammoth Tusk Clan and corrupted Grundersson. Sonia believes that it might be possible to redeem Grundersson, which is definitely something to keep in mind.

Thrym is leading an expedition consisting of Grundersson and scores of Giants. They have traveled from their stronghold in the Cairngorn peaks west towards the distant coast of the Ice Mountain Sea. They left some time ago. The expedition will build ships when they reach the coast and then they will sail into the sea, seeking a point where the barriers between this world and the Plain of Chaos are weak. They expect to sail into a great frigid sea lying in the bowl of a massive earth motte floating in the Elemental Chaos. On an island inside the Bowl is the Frost Spire and inside of that Spire is believed to be a shard of the Divine Engine.

Thrym’s goal is to initiate Ragnarok and likely destroy all of reality in order to revenge himself upon the Aesir. Apparently Grundersson and his giants believe that they will survive this and become great lords when the Primordials remake the world. Deluded fools.

Sonia was opposed to Ragnarok, and so she was imprisoned by her husband. It took her awhile to convince some of her guards to help her but eventually she managed to escape with their aid. She set off to Grimsburg to warn the Jarl of what was happening and to enlist aid to stop Thrym.

After using a Sending ritual to warn of their impending arrival Bella opened up a portal to the temple of the Aesir in Grimmsburg and sent Sonia and her sole remaining guard through. There they can speak with Jarl Sturgleson. I am sure that once we have concluded our business in Hammerfast, we will see her again, and likely offer our aid.

We then remounted our Pegasi and proceeded on to Hammerfest. 

In Hammerfest, we split into 2 groups. The more intellectually inclined (Bella and myself) went off to the library while the others first checked in with the administrator of Hammerfest and then went off to relax in a low Dwarven dive. Some of Turak’s Golden Horn clan had also made it to Hammerfest untainted by the corruption that had infected the rest of his kin. Turak was overjoyed, and reunited with them before going to the pub to celebrate.

At the library we asked to meet the head librarian and were directed to Alzar Scrollkeeper The High Librarian. We explained our intentions to him and gave him the letter of reference that had been provided by Briannah. Thanks to Briannah’s letter, Alzar Scrollkeeper The High Librarian was then quite happy to allow us into the restricted area of the stacks. We were warned about a mischievous (or perhaps insane) ghost who haunted the stacks. We attempted to placate the ghost but were unsuccessful.

The first day we managed to glean a little more information but nothing of great import. We then reunited for the evening with our companions who seemed to all be covered in muck and piss. Quite the stench. I used prestidigitation to at least mostly clean them up. Apparently they had been engaged in some rather rowdy celebrating.

We have received a total of 18,000 gold from the Hammerfast Trade Guild as a partial payment for resolving the minotaur problem. They will give us the remainder of the payment once we ensure that all of the Demons of Baphomet have been eradicated. So, once we finish our research in the library we will have to return to the labyrinth and see that any demons remaining are hunted down and destroyed. Not just for the money, of course. They are a danger that must be eliminated, and I suspect that Turak wants his vengeance to be complete and thorough.

The next day Bella and I returned to the library to do further research. Prior to doing that Bella sent a message and opened up a portal back to Grimmsburg. Briannah brought over a couple of books on dwarven geneology to help quieten the ghost, for such topics were of great interest to the apparition. She was overjoyed to get the chance to visit the library here without the burden of traveling. She also got to meet in person Alzar Scrollkeeper The High Librarian.

I'd just managed to find a document of considerable interest when I heard Bella calling out. Looking over I saw that she was being attacked by a masked man emeshed in Shadows, his first blow having apparently missed her. 

A fight then ensued between Bella, myself and the assassin. After failing to kill her on his initial strike and being hit by one of Bella’s frozen bolts the assassin had turned invisible, probably in an attempt to flee the scene. He then was so incredibly stupid as to attack Bella when she pretended to nonchantly walk by him. Although it was a neat attempt Bella was unable to turn his attack back on himself. I then managed to Eldritch Blast the assassin but that wasn't sufficient to put him down and before I could further act he landed a deadly slash with his blade that caused Bella to collapse.

I'd like to be able to state how I then saved the day by killing the assassin. I certainly tried. But the assassin was extremely agile and managed to dodge my blasts until it was too late for Bella. He slashed me once, nearly knocking me unconscious, but then turned his attention back to Bella’s bleeding body and slit her throat before I could stop him.

At least I managed to avenge Bella by slaying the foul scum with a final eldritch blast before he could escape. 

I've replayed the fight in my head a thousand times since then. Perhaps we should have allowed the assassin to flee. Perhaps I shouldn't have concentrated so much on killing the assassin and instead should have tried to heal Bella. Or perhaps we should have just fled.

I can't help think that we were very unlucky. Another time my blasts would have downed him before he could finish Bella off, or she would have shoved his blade into him when she fooled him into attacking. 

Bella has been very specific in the past that, if she is killed, she does not want us to attempt to bring her back to life. We will, however reluctantly, honour those wishes.

I'll miss her. I regret the fact that I never did understand her, and now I never will. For somebody who appeared to be such a stone cold killer she certainly risked her life for others and was truly loyal to her companions. She seemed a deeply unhappy person to me but hopefully that impression was very wrong. I certainly hope that she has gone to whatever afterlife she wanted to go to. 

Although I'm sure that she'd deny it and hate my saying it, she died a great hero and hopefully will be allowed to reside in Valhalla.

Now we have to decide how to proceed. Although I am also a Ritualist it was Bella who cast most of the Rituals that we used. I now have access to her spellbook (a remarkably attractive book) and will obviously have to master at least a few more rituals. We make very regular use of Sending and Linked Portal. And if we're to go into the North and try to make it to the Frost Spire we'll certainly need, at the very least, Endure Elements. So at some point I'll have to spend at least a few days somewhere in intense study.

We also should consider going to Grimmsburg and acting before they receive word of Bella’s death. I'd like to get access to Stark’s library again. More importantly, there is now going to be a power vacuum in the underworld that the Jarl should be aware of. Perhaps Skarn, her second in command, can quietly take over, especially if he is informed before any rivals. If we decide that it is a good idea I should be able to make people believe that Bella is alive for at least a little while.

I'd also like to track down who sent that assassin and convince them that they made a fatal mistake in targeting Bella. Apparently there was a previous attempt on Stark before I joined the group. These attacks may or may not be related.

Hmm. It looks like I should add Speak with Dead to the list of Rituals that I need to master.

First, we have to go track down that last remaining band of demon cursed Minotaurs.

We will then, presumably, head off to try and intercept Thrym before he can get the fragment of Odin’s Divine Engine.

The next few weeks are going to busy and dangerous.


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## PHDungeon (Apr 30, 2011)

From Melek:


It sounds hideously cold blooded to say that one of the first things that I did after notifying my companions of the tragedy that befell us was to dive into Bella’s ritual books. Unfortunately, there was little choice. We desperately needed to have access to some of the magics contained in her books. At least I can claim some moral right to some of the rituals contained within.

I had recognized the ring on the assassin’s finger as belonging to the Black Citadel. It is almost certainly the case that the assassin was given his assignment from a superior in the guild and would not have known much beyond the name of his target. He would be unlikely to have had any idea who he was working for or why Bella was a target. 

I already know something of the Black Citadel. They are rumoured to operate out of a fortress in the Shadowfell- The Black Citadel. Pretty much all the assassins in the guild are Shadar-kai, and the leader of the guild is an enigmatic figure known as the Grandmaster of Assassins. They are feared throughout the region, and their reputation is such that patrons frequently come from the distant southern lands to hire their services. They are highly secretive. It is believed that there is some sort of means of accessing the Shadowfell near Saltmarsh, and that the assassins use this "gate" to travel back and forth between midgard and their secret citadel in the Shadowfell. Individuals wishing to hire the guild's services do so through underworld intermediaries in Saltmarsh. According to rumour and story, their only "guildhall" is the Black Citadel in the Shadowfell, but it is assumed that they have safe houses in Grimmsburg and other cities in the north. Their services are expensive, and they are only contracted for very important and dangerous jobs. The guild is very old, and stories of its existence date back hundreds of years to the days of Bhal Turath.

Although I expected to get little out of it, the first order of business was to question the corpses of the assassin and of Bella herself.  And so the first spell from her book that I mastered was Speak with the Dead.

As expected, we got nothing of any use from the assassin. The guild’s network of informers in Grimmsburg told them of our trip, he didn't know why Bella was targeted nor by whom.

Talking to Bella was a little more useful although not much. She suspects that the Black Citadel itself wanted her dead, presumably because they didn't want the competition. There is no way to know if that supposition is correct, but it is not obviously wrong.

So, when time allows we have to destroy the Black Citadel. It’s nice to have a long term goal.

Unfortunately, at the moment we have the slightly more pressing business of stopping Ragnorak to attend to. So revenge will have to wait. I can talk solace in the old Turathi proverb, "Revenge is a dish best eaten cold".

We decided that it was time to finish off the last remaining piece of business here at Hammerfest. We returned to Turak’s labyrinth and discovered it empty, but we very easily picked up the tracks of the remaining demons of Baphomet by the wide trail of destruction that they were leaving. They had recently abandoned their lair and were on the move. Most certainly they were searching for mortals to torment and destroy. At one point we came across a band of ogres that had been torn apart by the Demons. It’s nice to know that my enemy can often be the enemy of my enemy.

While investigating the bodies of the ogres Ardyn noticed that we were being watched. It soon turned out that the watcher was an elf by the name of Kanis Lunark, a member of the Lythari Druidic order of shapechanging wolves.

The group of us, including Kanis, then proceeded on to a small steading formerly inhabited by some Dwarves who survived by a combination of hunting and extorting small payments from local passers by. Our quarry had arrived there before us and were eating the remnants of the dwarves as we arrived.

The ensuing fight was fairly short lived and reasonably one sided. The one new demonic form, a large horned demon, wasn't as dangerous as his appearance had led us to expect. Our new Lythari ally is a good archer and clearly about on a par with us in terms of combat ability. He seems to have a fair few tricks up his sleeve, vanishing into the Fey Wild on more than one occasion. I wonder if he goes to the same place there as I do.

I used the new mass charming ability that the Maiden had recently granted me to great effect. The effect itself is quite powerful and the fact that it seemingly NEVER fails to work is quite the advantage.

Kanis can shift back and forth from wolf form to human form incredibly gracefully and quickly, often moving a fair bit in the process. His shapeshifting is far more fluid than any werewolf I've previously encountered (although that is a quite small sample set) and definitely faster at it than Smar.

We desperately need all of the help that we can get and Kanis can clearly take care of himself so we asked him if he wished to join us in our attempt to forestall Ragnorok. He agreed to accompany us.

After dispatching the demons we returned to Hammerfast to collect the last of our reward (another 1,000 gp each) from the Tradesguild for dealing with the minotaur problem. We then headed back to Grimmsburg to consult with the Jarl, the Ice giantess, and the council.

In Grimmsburg, we privately informed Jarl Sturgleson that Belladonna had fallen so that he could make whatever preparations he thought appropriate to deal with the power struggle that now may ensue in the Styes.

I also went to visit Esme and pay off my loan. I gave her a 5% premium over the original value of the loan, a grossly extravagant payment given that I had the funds for less than a fortnight. She made noises as if she expected more, but I believe that to be just a vague attempt to get even more out of me.

The next event of significance that occurred was a meeting of the Jarl and his council to determine our next course of action. Three plans were proposed: Go into the icy chaos wastes and try and recover the Shard either before the Frost Giants could get it or before they could get away with it. A Jarl on the sea has an enchanted boat that would be very useful on such an expedition, although getting the vessel may not be trivial as he owes no fealty to Grimmsburg. Dean Danzig believes that he has found where another Shard is located. It is within the city of Moil, a city swarming with undead in the Shadowfell, a city cursed by the Gods. Briannah is of the opinion that we should go down to the Temple of Elemental Evil and enter the Chaos wastes from there.

After some discussion the issue remained unresolved. High Canon Wulgrim said that he would consult with the Gods to see if their guidance would help.

The next morning we reconvened. The Gods had given us some advice but, as is so often the case, the advice was somewhat cryptic.

As best as I can recall, the Gods message was:

The seas of ice are a perilous path that will lead to glorious battle and an ancient foe’s wrath.

The way of shadow may be more frigid than the icy seas. Here you risk aiding our enemies. Yet in darkness you may find… a chance to avert a threat to all mankind.

To travel south too soon may not be a boon, but to travel this path too late will seal our fate.

We interpreted the message as telling us that we should not yet go to the Temple of Elemental Evil although we WILL have to go there at one point. If there was any new information in the prophecy about the Frost Giants it was the fact that the prophecy did NOT state that we would gain a treasure, implying that the journey there would be fruitless.

My suspicion is that the Norns have weaved fate so that we will fail to acquire the Shards but that we will acquire sufficient knowledge and power as to be able to disrupt the final ritual, a ritual that will be performed at the Temple of Elemental Evil. I have no real basis for that suspicion except that it would seem dramatically appropriate. Recently I seem to see the world as one that often acts in dramatically appropriate fashion. Probably just more of Perrin leaking through.

So, we decided that the best course of action was to head into the Shadowfell.  Dean Danzig can open a gate there and has also provided us with a Scroll of Planar Portal so that we can return.

Before we left I managed to acquire the Solace Bole ritual. If we can find time to cast it within Moil it should make resting far, far safer.

Given how cold the Shadowfell is known to be and how dangerous generally, I cast both Song of Sustenance and Endure Elements on our group. Dean Danzig then opened the portal to Moil.

We went through the portal and found ourselves in a great chamber. It was one level of a somewhat ruined tower. The tower itself was leaning at a good angle, making moving around it quite difficult. Two sides of the tower had partially collapsed, as had portions of the roof. There is one obvious exit from the chamber, an exit leading to a stone bridge.

Unfortunately, the tower was occupied by some quite powerful and unusual undead, at least two sorts being present. The undead had the ability to breath out exceedingly cold and harmful breath. Their claws tried to drain the life out of those they hit. Perhaps most disturbing of all, some of them exploded in a great burst when they are finally slain.

The battle was fairly swift. Ardyn summoned up some wind spirits who attempted to blow one of the undead out the broken side of the tower. The foul creature kept managing to grasp on to the edge and attempt to make it back into the fray, while Ardyn kept blowing it back. This went on for some time before the undead become so frustrated with the whole thing that it fled out the hole on its own volition.

Meanwhile, Kanis created a magical zone, a portal to the Feywild that befuddled all within it and that also teleported back into the centre those who tried to leave it. I used mass charm to move some of the undead within the zone. At that point, the fight largely turned into a comedy as the undead tried to leave the zone and the other undead tried to get away from the wind spirits.

However, there were very definitely some serious moments. Harbek was struck by the claws of one of the beasts and came close to dying as a result. As he slipped into unconsciousness I hurried over. Between my healing and his dwarven fortitude he managed to recover from the effect but it was far closer than I would have liked.

And it was about at that point that we discovered that some of the creatures explode when destroyed, exploding in a huge burst of necrotic and cold damage. It wasn't enough to kill any of us but it definitely hurt a lot

After the fight, as we rested for a little while to recover, we discovered one more ominous fact about the Shadowfell. The rest did not restore our energies to the extent that it normally does and healing magic is not as potent. After a short rest we were are all still somewhat tired. Even Turak was affected.


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## PHDungeon (May 7, 2011)

We left the entry tower and stepped out into the cold black night of the Shadowfell.

Moil must have been a singularly impressive sight centuries ago when it was still a living and vibrant city. Even today, after centuries of neglect, it inspires a sense of awe. We looked upon series of dark, basalt and granite towers hundreds of feet high, rising out of mist and darkness, connected by a latticework of stone bridges wide enough for 2 carts to pass by. Although several of the bridges have completely or partially collapsed many still remain. 

We set out along the one path currently open to us, a bridge stretching hundreds of feet to the next tower. There are, of course, no railings on the side of the bridge but it is wide enough to be fairly safe. It feels stable. We are so far above the ground that we cannot see what lies below us except for darkness and mist.

Without incident we arrive at another great tower. Inside is a circular chamber with one exit to another bridge. But it is the chamber itself that is the most interesting. At the centre of the chamber is a shattered plinth made of a red rock that is of quite a different sort than those making up the towers and bridges. On the shattered plinth are some engravings carved in an older form of the Common tongue, one used during the height of Bhal Turath.

At Harbek’s very wise suggestion we decided to take rubbings of the stone fragments and then put together those rubbings rather than trying to restore the fragments themselves. This took some considerable time but was eventually successful. Almost all of the work was done by Harbek and myself, as we seemed to be the only ones with the patience and intellect sufficient for such a task.

Once restored, the message turned out to be a long riddle written by the Demi Liche- Acererak. I will not place the riddle here but it is, of course, sufficiently cryptic that we will probably never realize what all of the clues refer to and will realize too late what some of them mean.

I have so many thoughts and vague recollections of Acererak, but I am able to recall only fragments. I don't even know where those fragments come from. Were they stories that I read in my youth or heard in my long years of adventuring? Or are they fragments of memory coming to me from Allaine?

Some, I believe, must be fragments of memory. I remember being in his tomb, in passing many traps. I remember the fixed sphere of annihilation masquerading as a mouth. But I also know that there are no such things as spheres of annihilation known to contemporary magicians.

Between Harbek’s magic that allowed others to tap into my skills and my own Aria of Revelation we managed to piece together much of the history of Acererak and Moil. He had come here on a quest to turn himself into a God. While here, he had created many wonderous items and many foul undead. Fortunately, at least according to the stories, he was slain before he could finish his quest. But I can't help but recollect that old, old saying "The stories of his death were much exaggerated". I am filled with a sense of foreboding that we will encounter either him or some vestige of himself that has been left behind.

We then proceeded out of the chamber along another bridge leading to yet another tower. At least our path was reasonably clear since only one exit from the tower led to an intact bridge, the steps to the ground having long since collapsed away. We probably could have gotten to the ground and to other towers by a variety of means should such have become necessary, but we chose to take the path of least resistance, at least at first.

As we neared yet another tower, we were suddenly attacked. Three incorporeal undead rose up out of the bridge at the rear of the party while two gargoyles attacked the front. I want to say that they were specters and gargoyles, but both were more powerful than previous versions that I have encountered.

The battle was a quite hard fight. Incorporeal creatures that can disappear into the walkway are hard to bring to task.  Our common tactic of blowing or teleporting opponents away was far less effective than normal against opponents with the ability to fly and hover with ease. The specters were able to get into the heads of my companions and I. They assaulted us with waking nightmares that tore at our minds and souls, leaving us dazed while we tried to regain our composures.

At one point, Turak used his ability to call on the Earth spirits to shake the ground. Fortunately, the bridge managed to withstand the violence inflicted upon it, although several pieces of masonry fell loose and plummeted into the depths. I believe that he learned his lesson and will be more careful in the future.

Eventually, we prevailed over our foes, but the battle had sorely weakened us. We retreated off the catwalk back into the tower with the plinth, and there I cast a ritual to take us into a safe location within the Feywild where we could recover our strength. I couldn't help but notice and be concerned by the fact that we had managed such a short distance here in Moil before requiring rest. 

In the confined room of a great tree within the Feywild we rested. Smar amused and annoyed us with his antics as he constantly tried to stalk Turak within a space no larger than a small longhouse. 

After our rest, we then returned to Moil and proceeded on our quest.

We entered another tower, a tower almost ruined by the ravages of time but still somehow surviving despite the numerous holes in the floor and in the walls. In the centre of the room there was a circular, raised platform of stone surrounded by numerous mystical wards. I could sense that the platform had magics on it that would take us elsewhere. 

I don't know how long I spent slowly and carefully studying the wards and protections on the platform. It was one of the most fascinating puzzles I had ever been presented with. This was clearly the work of a master magician, a magician far more powerful than I am. I am absolutely certain that I would not have been able to defeat the wards if they were at full strength and were intended to completely keep me out. I cannot be certain, but it seems to me that the wards were deliberately crafted so that a magician of sufficient power could bypass them with enough time and effort. Clearly these were the work of Acererak. I am very afraid that he is somehow still alive and is just playing with us for his own amusement.

 I had managed to disarm one of the wards and was near to removing the second when circumstances changed in a rather dramatic and dismal fashion.  A great and powerful undead monstrosity attacked us. It was a gargantuan, incorporeal thing seemingly made out of the spirits of dozens or hundreds of screaming beings. It was though the entire cursed population of Moil had merged to form a single horrific entity.

It soon became exceedingly apparent that this being was beyond our ability to fight. In its first appearance it caused Smar to recoil in fear and fall through one of the many holes in the floor into the darkness below. Tentacles lashed out from it engulfing Turak and greatly damaging Harbek. Kanis used his primal magic to conjure a pit to the Feywild to keep the foul thing contained, but it continually escaped from the trap.

I was quite surprised to find that I apparently have a much greater degree of internal fortitude than do my companions. I'm not too surprised that the feral natures of both Kanis and Smar let the panic overcome them sufficiently that they literally lost control of their bladders, but I was amazed to learn that Harbek and Ardyn were similarly affected. Turak’s resistance to the fear was to be expected. As for myself, I don't think that my reaction was so much caused by massive bravery as by the fact that I no longer really fear death. It will come when it comes, and I will go to whatever fate awaits me. I have made my peace with that unpleasant fact and, while I hope that it will be delayed a long time, I am ready to die today.

I started to quickly and frantically try to remove the remaining wards. Clearly, opening up the platform and leaving by it was our only means of survival. I was probably imagining the chuckle that I heard as I did this.

While this consumed my full attentions, my companions did what they could to survive and slow the monstrosity down. The spirits summoned by Smar and Ardyn kept blowing it back into the small area of Fey space created by Kanis, but it kept managing to escape from that trap. The most crucial part of the spirits’ aid was that they moved the undead horror, but not whomever was engulfed at the time.

After what felt like hours, but was actually only perhaps thirty seconds, I managed to disarm the last of the wards with some assistance from Harbek, and we all frantically threw ourselves through the portal. Fortunately, at this crucial moment, the Fey Trap succeeded in keeping the monster within its bounds, if only for a few seconds, and we all managed to get through the portal.

We fell into a large circular chamber. Enscribed on the floor was a relief structure shaped in the form of a huge, green devil head with closed eyes, the symbol of Acererak- complete with a large black area representing its mouth. We fell onto this structure, Smar having the great misfortune to fall straight into the mouth. Of course the gaping maw was no mundane opening. Inside was what turned out to be a relic similar to a Sphere of Annihilation, but fortunately much less powerful, as it only weakened and injured Smar as opposed to destroying him outright. With some effort he managed to climb out of the mouth wounded by alive.

We were then attacked by yet more incorporeal undead. I am detecting a theme here. Three of them swept down from the ceiling and assaulted us. Since we were already weakened by the fight with the undead horror only moments ago this fight was harder than it might otherwise have been. The mouth affected the wraiths as well as ourselves, so a great deal of the fight revolved around trying to shove the sword wraiths into the sculpture’s mouth. At any rate, after some rather intense violence we managed to succeed in destroying our undead enemies.

We then took stock of the room and our surroundings. The room had ten archways filled with cool, gray mist spread around its circumference, each one was very clearly a portal of some sort.

What was probably most alarming was that I was able to determine that we couldn’t contact other Planes from this area. That means that our rituals of Solace Bole and Planar Portal will not work here. Some of our other abilities are also likely affected although the exact details are not completely clear. I suspect that the Fey Trap spell will not function, but I believe that my Arcane Gate may.

Despite spending considerable time studying one of the gates, I was unable to discern anything about where it led or whether it would have unfortunate side effects.

Smar, at that point, grew impatient and walked through one of the gates at random, instantly reappearing inside the mouth of “near annihilation”. He was obviously far more upset by the fact that his armour did not reappear with him than he was by the damage the mouth inflicted on him.

I then did what I should have done before and would have done if Smar had not precipitated things- I cast a Hand of Fate Ritual, asking what door we should proceed through and which door would lead us to Smar’s armour.

Smar stepped through the indicated door but reappeared in the mouth, this time with all of his items still present. I then did what I should have done long before. My only excuse for this second lapse was that the encounter a few minutes before had rattled me more than I had realized. I studied the relief on the floor and scavenged through my memories and realized that the version here was wrong. Both eyes were closed, whereas the true insignia of Acererak has both eyes open. 

After the rest of us stepped back to a safe distance, Turak smashed the eyes. A great wave of energy slightly bruised him but didn't reach the walls where we stood. The mouth of the green devil became an empty pit, a pit with a portal in the bottom of it.

At least for the moment we seem to have disarmed the magical sphere. We now have little choice but to proceed through the portal. I am filled with a great sense of dread. The words of Odin are echoing through my mind. And I feel that Acererak wants us to proceed, at least if we are sufficiently powerful to pass his initial tests. I am very much afraid that we are dancing on the threads of Fate and are doomed to both succeed and fail at the same time. Our very success may be a key factor in the coming of Ragnarok.

But it cannot be that simple. In the stories Acerak DID fail. The champions of Rao destroyed him and his Fortress of Conclusion. Odin DID send us here. Perhaps if we are very careful we can succeed. Or perhaps in our failure we will gain knowledge or powers crucial to our final success. Maybe only certain death awaits us (GM note: prophetic words, as will be seen soon). I am sure that Acererak would have it so.


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## PHDungeon (May 21, 2011)

Wherein the heroes find themselves in Acererak's Shadow Tomb and continue their explorations.

Melek's journal:

Smar has been incredibly despondent for the last couple of days. The encounter with that undead monstrosity has obviously come close to unhinging his mind. Or perhaps something happened to him in the pit that he fell into, something that we don't know about. He seems to be getting a little better and even showed some signs of life in the room with the tapestries. I'm a little bit hopeful that he'll soon snap out of it.

We stepped out of the gateway and found ourselves in a small chamber with a single exit. The chamber itself was some 25 feet by 25 feet in size, with 4 columns of exceedingly hot magical fire about 5 feet from each corner. We ourselves were either in the columns of fire or between them. The fire was hot enough that even I felt a small amount of pain, my companions found it exceedingly discomforting.

Beyond the small chamber was a bubbling pit of acid some 15 feet across leading into a larger chamber. At the end of that chamber was a throne and sitting upon that throne was a skeletal figure with crown and scepter starting to stir.

It brought flashbacks to mind of my earlier experience so many years ago. Or, perhaps, fevered hallucinations caused by my madness. 

Kanis was the first to recover from the shock of arrival and he bounded forward, easily leaping the pit. I admit to being a bit surprised that the floor immediately beyond the pit was actually solid and not a trap. But as he moved forward the trap became apparent as the floor just beyond the acid fell away revealing a great hole. We heard crackling sounds and saw the discharge of lightning, followed by a sickening thud and cries of pain from far below.

Harbek then ran forward, ignoring the fact that he was aflame. He leaped onto the small platform between the acid and the pit and looked down, calling out that Kanis was alive but surrounded by a multitude of undead. And there was a lightning trap only a few feet below the lip of the pit.

The magics of this place made it fairly difficult to open an Arcane Gate to the ground beyond the pit but I managed to successfully open it and stepped into the liches chamber. I was followed immediately by Ardyn who managed to open a similar kind of gate called a Root Gate down  to nearly the floor of the pit. Next time we have to plan things a little better since my gate has more range and would have reached the bottom. Ardyn also tossed his rope of climbing over to Harbek

For once even Turak chose to be a little discrete and used the Arcane Gate to pass the dangers and then charged the Liche.

Fortunately Kanis managed to escape the undead before they could do much damage to him by first extracting himself from the spikes and then leaping into the air and through the Root Gate up into the main chamber.

During the fight with the liche we managed to immerse him in the acid several times. I managed to teleport him in once with my Flitting Shadows and controlled his mind another time to get him to throw himself back in.

Although his magics were strong and he even had the ability to teleport we managed to prevail fairly quickly although all of us were quite damaged in the process.

His Sceptre turns out to be the equivalent of a Rod of Corruption, an item highly prized by warlocks. His crown, from all appearances, is just a highly valuable piece of jewelry.

During a reasonably short rest filled with many Runes of Mending  we searched the room and the throne. The throne could be pushed aside. Underneath the throne we found what is obviously an Iron Flask, complete with what is presumably the command word engraved on it. Both Harbek and myself believe that the flask is probably full but neither of us knows of any means of determining what is inside except to open it. Not being quite that foolish or desperate we decided to not open it except under the most dire circumstances. Harbek has been carrying the flask ever since.

Our search for the Liches phylactery was unsuccessful. Unfortunately he was not so stupid as to leave it in the throne room. Pity, really.

Behind the throne was a very low passageway cursed with some apparently moderately weak necrotic energy. Kanis went through the tunnel as he is small enough to be able to move unimpeded. Beyond he found a chamber with no obvious exits and above him he saw a great gelatinous mass where the ceiling should be. In the short instants that he stayed there a few fragments of the ceiling fell to the ground, bubbling away acidically. Although there are likely ways to remove the danger we decided that now was not the time to go there.

After some discussion we decided that we should rest in the throne room for a day despite the fact that it was only a couple of hours since we had rested in the Bole. But this place has already convinced us to be very, very cautious.

I spent the time mastering yet another ritual from Belladonna's book.  Kanis and Smar spent a lot of time talking together. While there was some snarling from time to time they didn't kill each other so all must be at least reasonably well. 

Eventually we all managed to get some sleep although while I was on guard I noticed that everybody seemed to be twitching and moaning in their sleep. 

That night, my dreams were even more vivid and disturbed than usual. I kept running the procedure to get by those wards in my head. I kept seeing that foul undead monster in my dreams. But in my dreams it talked to me, or some of the spirits that composed it talked to me. They told me much of the wonders of Moil when it was alive, much of the time before my people were cursed to become Tieflings. I have only vague recollections, but I believe that I was on the cusp of some great epiphany when I was jolted awake by Smar screaming in his sleep.

Somewhat refreshed, or at least no longer able to pretend to sleep, we decided that the time to press on had  arrived. I again cast the Endure Elements and Sustenance rituals before we started out.

I cast Arcane Gate to allow us to reach the bottom of the pit trap. There we found a chamber, a level, and a trap door . After some discussion everybody returned back to the top. I then used a mage hand to pull down the lever while jumping through the gate. This caused a great stone block to fall in the place where the lever had stood. It would have been near certain death for anybody there.

Where the block had been there was now a tunnel. We proceeded along that tunnel and soon found ourselves looking into a long room with perhaps 20 or so human skulls on pedestals. Some of the skulls had gems for eyes or teeth, some were just skulls. The one directly opposite the doorway was the only one that had both eye sockets and teeth engemmed. All very reminiscent of the final confrontation with Acerak so many years ago.

We proceeded moderately cautiously and systematically but it turned out the entire room was comparatively harmless if reasonable precautions were taken. There were some spear traps at either end of the long hall, triggered when the main skull was lifted. But we had already noticed the trap and, at any rate, were lifting all the skulls via mage hand prior to smashing them to pieces.

Although we searched high and low we were unable to find any other exits from the chamber and so returned back to the bottom of the pit and the trap door.

Raising that door, we descended into a corridor leading into a large room with tapestries lining the walls and many tapestries hanging from frames within the room blocking most of our line of sight. What smelled like good, wholesome food was waiting for us atop many tables. I hastened to point out the obvious to my companions that the food should not be touched or sampled in any way but I believe that even the more feral of the group had already come to that conclusion.

The tapestries showed scenes of life and battle from long ago including fights between Bael Turath and the Empire of Nerath,

As we examined the tapestries we noticed that there was a figure in one of the tapestries close to the door, an anachronistic  figure of a paladin of Rao stared out from a tapestry showing a scene centuries before Rao was even known. 

As we entered the room, 2 ghostly figures appeared and transformed into beautiful women dressed in the garb of noble women of Bael Turath.  Kanis called out to one of them in Skanzi   that she should stay away and then shot her when she approached . I called out to her in the language of Bael Turath that we were not necessarily enemies but she replied that she was so hungry, so hungry. I perhaps imagined the very sad look in her eyes as she said this and the despair in her voice.

A third spectral undead  then appeared and a general battle was joined. I wish that there had been some means of dealing with this problem more peacefully.  

It wasn't a complete surprise when the tapestries also joined in, trying to engulf any living being that got too close to them. Although they managed to strike one or two of us during the battle they had little effect.

The battle was another hard fought battle with incorporeal undead. I don't mean to sound jaded when I say that, from a tactical point of view, it wasn't particularly different from the other battles we have faced here. The most significant thing by far from my point of view was that the Maiden extended her boon to me and dazed one of the ghosts when it struck me from surprise. 

Eventually we prevailed over the ghosts. I was the one who put in the final blow against the woman that I had been talking to. I will swear by both the Maiden and by Odin that, as my eldritch blast of flame blew her apart, that a smile came to her lips and she mouthed a quiet thank you.

We then proceeded to examine the room, especially the tapestries, in great detail from a safe distance. In only 2 of them did we say anything that seemed out of place. There was the Paladin and a  female figure that would appear to be some form of sorceress in another. I then proceeded to burn all of the other tapestries from a safe distance with my eldritch blast. Behind one of the tapestries a corridor was revealed.

Neither Harbek or myself were able to come to any conclusion as to whether or not a Remove Affliction ritual might be able to restore these people to life from their tapestries. When we have more time we should return here and see if my Aria of Revelation combined with his magics will allow us to come to a better understanding of the situation. I am fairly sure that a Remove Affliction will, at worst, accomplish nothing. While destroying the tapestry may free them it is at least as likely to slay them. 

[ This has not yet happened. It describes the next extended rest. All is flavour to describe his retraining and new feats ]

After awhile I managed to fall asleep and my dreams returned.

In some of them I was present in the scenes shown in the tapestries that I had burned, participating in the life of my ancestors. As can happen in dreams time passed slowly. It was as if I managed to spend days or even weeks in a single night. 

I also clearly recall having a long discussion with the shade of the woman who I had talked to in the tapestry room and then had put to rest, a woman called Phelaia. She told me that we had done her a great favour. She was a seer in life. She was able to fortell that it was possible for me to redeem the Tieflings, or at least some of them. That I had to continue by proceeding along the path along which I had taken the first faltering steps. I had to put all my infernal heritage behind me, I had to control the bloodlust and anger. I had to give up any and all abilities granted by the devils so long ago. Only then would I be able to again become human and only then would I be able to redeem my people.

I also had a long conversation with Perrinne. I was right, she was a female. I saw her as a young woman in her late 20's but I don't know if that is what she looked like when she died or if it just how she thought of herself. During the conversation she pointed out that it was often possible to use a little of ones own power when casting Rituals and use far less components and cast the ritual far more skillfully to boot. To do so is a somewhat dangerous and quite tasking undertaking and should only be undertaken on Rituals that are quite basic and straightforward and it should never, ever be done more than once in a single day regardless of the circumstances. 

When I woke up and again cast Endure Elements I could see what she had meant. Although I did not actually do so due to the fact that I might need it for a far more important ritual I was absolutely certain that I can now take advantage of this new technique.

It seems more and more likely to me that my dreams are true. But it is definitely still a possibility that they are just a construct of my own insanity and I am only remembering long lost fragments of knowledge from my days at the Academy.

But whether the dreams are true or not I am going to act upon them. The Tieflings deserve better than they currently have. And, longshot though it may be, I am going to strive to give them that chance.

Listen to me. It is almost as if I've forgotten that I am currently in some dark, cursed place of incredible danger and am quite likely to perish here. Its almost as if I've actually got some hope in my heart.


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## PHDungeon (May 21, 2011)

Unfortunately, I have no journal's to post for what turned out to be the final session of the campaign.

In this final session the heroes continued their exploration of the Shadow Tomb and dealt with some more nasty traps and obstacles. However, they had the misfortune of stumbling into the lair of a dracolich. The creature was a level 19 solo. I thought given that the party was level 17 that they could take the thing, though I figured it might be a bit of tough fight since they were already a little battered up from the nasty traps they had dealt with. They were also missing Ardyn's player for the session, so Ardyn wasn't doing anything useful. Still it was 5 PCs vs a solo.

Unfortunately the result was a TPK. The dracolich was taken from the Monster Vault and it had a couple of abilities that were particularly nasty. One was that it could attempt to dominate a PC about twice per round at will. Second it had an aura that prevented anyone in it from regaining hit points. Finally, the Shadow Tomb itself caused all healing to heal 10 less hp than normal. 

Several PCs spent much of the time dominated and unable to do much other than attack their allies. Turak and some of the other melee fighters spent a great deal of time caught in the thing's aura and were unable to do receive the healing they needed, while taking nasty attacks from the dracolich. To make matters worse for the party Melek missed close to ten saving throws in a row against the dominate through bad die rolling.

Anyhow they got the thing down to about 70 hp before it was finished them off, so it was a close fight. 

Of course, as a dm I could have cut them some slack and had the creature drop a little earlier or done other things to ensure they didn't take a TPK, but when running D&D I like to let the chips fall where they may. It wasn't an unreasonable encounter and the players were very experienced with optimized character builds. Furthermore, I was getting really tired of dming 4E, so when I realized I might have an out I decided to take it, even though it wasn't the ideal way to end the campaign.

We have since begin a new mini 30s Pulp campaign. We are currently using Savage Worlds rules, but I'm going to have the players convert the characters to FATE (Spirit of the Century) for the second adventure.   I'm really looking forward to running that system since it's so much different than 4E. So far, the players have been having a blast, and I think they are finding it a really refreshing change from D&D. I'm also playing in a 3E Warhammer game run by one of my players every other Sunday, and I'm starting to really dig that system.

I don't have any plans to run D&D again anytime soon. I'm looking forward to trying out a bunch of other games that I either haven't played in a long time or haven't played at all. I may try to run start another fantasy campaign sometime in the next few months, but ideally I'd like to use some system other than D&D (FATE or maybe DragonAge are highest on my list).


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