# Wizardru's Story Hour  (updated 11/21)



## Zad

*Introduction*

For this board, it's *Wizardru's Story Hour*. But internally we call the campaign

*The Savage Sword of Meepo*

Didn't start that way of course, but it didn't take long before it was. Part way through the Forge of Fury if I recall. So on behalf of all the players, welcome to our story hour! You will find that all the characters and the DM post here so I've included their ENBoard names.

This story hour begins with a cast of first level characters and over the years you will see them grow to epic levels and beyond. We started the campaign when third edition first came out and it continues to this day and I can honsetly say it's the highlight of our week.

*The cast of characters and history*
These are some very brief introductions to the characters. Realize that each character here has seen years of development which is detailed in the stories. The purpose here is to just let you get to know them a little.

*Scorch* - male human wizard. He's reclusive, power hungry, likes to blast things, and perhaps slightly touched in the head. Rarely is something considered "acceptable" in his mind, be it the food, the bed, or anything else. Scorch started as a wizard, and over time progresses to seek further arcane power as a Mage of the Arcane Order and Archmage. (EN Board name: Scorch)

*Dravot d'Chandagnac* - male human cleric of Pelor (up the sun!) Dravot is the fourth son of a noble family in the kindgom of Ahlyssa and was sent off to the church. He joined the game part way into the Sunless citadel. In later adventures he becomes touched by undeath, and becomes one of the Shadowed of Pelor, a prestige class very similar to a Hunter of the Dead. In time he grows to become what may be Pelor's chosen servant on the Prime. (EN Board name: Dravot)

*Valanthe* - female human rogue. Valanthe grew up in Dyvers as an orphan with a questionable past. She has over time become less prone to the larcenous habits she began with. She eventually learns she is one of the Shadow touched, and is drawn into a web of events in the Shadow Plane. (EN Board Name: Valanthe the Sleepless)

*Rackhir the Red Archer* - male human fighter. A Frutzi barbarian from the northern lands, he is an expert with the bow. Quiet, bordering on brooding, but efficient and deadly in combat. He has little interest in negotiations or politics and truly lives only during battle.

*Kayleigh Ladanna'al *- female elven archer. Kayleigh Drake (among humans) is the first daughter of a minor noble in Celene. Her father does not agree with the Queen's isolationist policies. She is a veteran of the Hateful Wars against the orcs and still has a deep hatred of them and their ilk. She began as a fighter and over time learned she carried the spark of an Elven Champion - an Arcane Archer. The story is largely told from Kayleigh's perspective as entries in her journal. (EN Board name: Zad, your humble author) 

*Jozan Mornlight (later Aethramyr)* - male elven paladin of Sehanine. He was found after the destruction of his village and raised by humans. Eventually he heard Sehanine's calling and became one of her chosen. He is brave, trustworthy, and has an odd fondness for kobolds. His mount is Crescent, a dire wolf that is none too subtle but incredibly effective. (EN Board Name: Aethramyr)

*Bolo Brandybuck -* male halfling/faux elf/etc. druid. Bolo starts as an agent of the druidic council and soon finds that he is suddenly the last remnants of that council. Bolo joins the group after several adventures have already passed so the new reader won't see him until a good ways in. After his first death he was reincarnated as an elf. (EN Board Name: Argent Silvermage)

And of course, the one and only....

*Meepo*

[big round of applause]

Yes the little kobold that could. He became attatched to Jozan in the Sunless Citadel and has been along for the ride ever since. He cooks he cleans he polishes. He saves Scorch's life now and again. Kayleigh orignially couldn't stand him but has slowly moved towards indifference about the little guy. Most of the rest of the party doesn't seem to mind him. He's got character levels now, and his alignment has been slowly shifting as Jozan "shows him the way"

Up to date character stat blocks should be available in the Rogue's Gallery 


*The Hook*
The adventurers are in the employ of Lord Gelban, who is a wealthy merchant in Greyhawk. Lord Gelban retains several similar groups of adventurers for various purposes. The group is somewhat familiar with each other but these stories mark their first real adventures together.


*Editor's Note*
Each reply will contain a seperate chapter generally speaking, and usually denotes one night's gaming activity. The majority of the text is journal entries from Kayleigh's journal. Other characters do contribute however, and their journal entries are noted.

*Another Editor's Note:*
I'm afraid we have finally had to bow to the forces of board mechanics. The thread was getting pretty big, what with having run so long. I finally broke down and pruned the thread, removing almost all the posts that were not directly part of the story.

It's not that I don't appreciate the feedback from all the readers; I truly do. A single hello or "Love the story" post is enough to make my whole day and I cherish each one. But there are limits to technology, and in order to make things easier on the boards and our hosts, as well as new readers, I've had to remove the posts up until the most recent ones. Please don't take this as an insult, and let me offer my thanks again for reading.

*And another:*
You can find a listing of a great many NPCs that have appeared throughout the campaign in this post here.


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## Zad

*The Sunless Citadel - Chapter 1*

*The Sunless Citadel - Chapter 1*

The first module published for 3e and the first adventure for the group, as well as various introductory material. It should come as no surprise there are spoilers here.

These campaign writeups were being sent to the players long before there was a story hour. Included in most are some things for us, the players, to discuss before next session. You can see where our/my heads were at each time we played.

*OOC Notes: *
Experience: 100 each 

The horses are going to be dead meat if we leave them up here alone. 


*Other notes: *
I really like this adventure so far. It has some nice writing, good plot. The way of pulling the characters together is perfect - great for a new campaign - saves all that muss and fuss with a simple hook. 

Good thing we have Grundel - we'd be pretty dumb to go out without a cleric. (Note for future readers: this is a joke. We didn’t have a cleric when we started and felt rather nervous about it. Fortunately Dravot joined the campaign soon.)

Tip of the hat and my thanks to Wizardru for DMing. 


*This Week's Adventure: *

Through circumstances I’ll relate some other time, I’m currently in the employ of Lord Gelban, a powerful Lord in the free city of Greyhawk. Gelban retains many such adventurers to look after special interests of his, and more so in recent months. 

Some several months ago, Lord Gelban's 15 year old daughter Ariadne, began slowly falling prey to an illness. At first the effects were slight, but grew in time. She continues to worsen, and will die shortly if a cure cannot be found. Lord Gelban has brought in a variety of clerics, healers, sages and wizards to see to her health, but none have been able to even determine the nature of the illness, let alone provide a cure. Lord Gelban loves his daughter dearly and has become increasingly desperate as she has worsened. He has put his considerable resources to the task of finding a cure for her. 

In searching legend and lore for a cure, Lord Gelban heard tell of a magical fruit. This fruit is grown in the city of Oakhurst in the kingdom of Keoland to the southwest of Greyhawk. Once a year, this tiny hamlet sells one of these fruits, who's healing powers can only be described as miraculous. The time is fast approaching when this fruit is usually offered, so Lord Gelban has sent me and several other adventurers in his service to purchase the fruit. Armed with a letter of mark, we depart. 

The group is sent by ship on the three day journey to the port city of Gradsul. The trip is uneventful, however it seems Scorch has little love of the sea. Or perhaps just a great love of leaning over the railing. Then again, Scorch has little love of anything so this can hardly be termed unusual. His constant cries of “Feh!” are amusing in their own way. He seems consumed by his arcane studies, and misses out on the simple wonder of a sunset.

Horses and gear are waiting for us in Gradsul, and we set off immediately for Oakhurst. There should be little difficulty in locating the hamlet as it lies at the end of the "New Road". There is a New Road and an Old Road. The New Road it seems has been in use for some two or three centuries, whereas the Old Road likely pre-dates humankind. I find it unusual for humans to think of something a few centuries old as still being “New” but perhaps proximity to Celene has an effect.

We had an uneventful week's ride and became more familiar with each other. Aside from some incompatibility between Scorch's horse and his hindquarters, and the associated grumping, the ride is quiet and peaceful. 

An hour before reaching Oakhurst, we happen on an odd site. Five hundred yards off the road is clearly visible a stag. A large beast, it lies in the rye field unmoving. Closer examination reveals that it has been swarmed by some kind of small beast and drained of its blood. This is made more unusual by the absence of any tracks - in fact the area seems to have been swept to remove such tracks. As we examined the scene, they hear the sound of the wind rustling through the branches. This hardly seems unusual until they realize that there is no wind, and the nearest trees are quite a ways away. At this time, three small shapes seem to be quickly moving away through the rye. Rather than pursue, we chose to continue on their vital mission. 

Oakhurst indeed seems to be everything our troop expected of it. Only about seven or eight buildings and a modest population of farmers and honest folk. We acquire lodgings and wash the dirt of the road from our boots, and our throats. Scorch concluded that the meal was "adequate." High praise indeed. A number of interesting rumors and local gossip are available in any tavern, and Oakhurst is no exception. 

We first learned that the Mayor, Vurnar Leng, is the primary agent on behalf of the town when negotiating for the fruit. The local constable and the merchant Hercrule are key figures in this as well. The mayor can be found in the morning and we will need to wait until then. Hercrule is apparently the most prosperous and wealthy figure in town.

We also learn that this year's fruit has not yet been sold, for no obvious reason. There are actually two fruits - the red fruit heals. The white fruit is sold in the winter on some years and seems to be as deadly as the red fruit is miraculous. One cannot help but wonder if the white fruit might be involved in the sickness of Lord Gelban's daughter but there is no evidence to support this. The summer fruit typically sells for 1000 gp. The deadly winter fruit sells for some other price, which one can assume is significantly higher with a vastly different clientele.

Hercrule's twin children, along with a paladin and ranger they somehow recruited, were convinced they knew the whereabouts of the Sunless Citadel and went off to find it. They have not been heard from for the last week. The Citadel seems to be a local enigma filled with assorted horrors.

In the morning, we spoke to the Constable. A half-elven woman with a business-like demeanor, she informs us of when and where the mayor can be found, and emphasizes that any discussion should take place with both the Mayor and Hercrule. We also mentioned the discovery of the stag and it is of little surprise to the constable. The town has clearly had a number of such attacks recently but has little understanding of them.

Further information is revealed about the auction process. The Mayor and the others attract buyers through their respective contacts. Hercrule handles the interview and negotiation process. The constable maintains security and handles the physical sale. The final decision on the sale rests with these three, but Hercrule has the senior vote. 

A short while later, the Mayor and Hercrule are found in the Mayor's house. After hearing of our mission, and verifying their credentials, an unsettling fact is revealed - they have no fruit this year. 

The fruit is not grown but is in fact purchased from the goblins. The goblins have shut off negotiations this year and have been unreceptive to parley. A week ago, the children of Hercrule went off to the Sunless Citadel, where the goblins are apparently dwelling, to attempt to force the issue. They have not returned. 

(Other details of note are that while the town has tried to cultivate the fruit, all attempts have failed. The bushes are stolen when they reach a certain size. The Mayor blames the goblins for this but that may not be the case. Also, the white fruit is sold each year also, but somewhat more discretely, as you would expect for such a commodity. Further, the price of the fruit is fixed at 1000 gp and is sold according to need rather than coin.) 

The situation is clear - for us to succeed in their mission, we must follow the trail of Hercrule's children, find the goblins, and hopefully re-open negotiations. (Failing that they could forcefully acquire a fruit, but that will do the townsfolk little good.) In exchange for attempting this task, the town agrees that Lord Gelban may have his fruit if they succeed. Further, Hercrule will reward us for the return of her children's signet ring and definite knowledge of their fate. 

After sending a message to Lord Gelban informing him of the situation, we made our preparations. Given the vague indication of where the twins went, we set off. With luck we could be there by nightfall. 

Looking at the broader picture for a moment, there are some historical facts that seem to relate somehow. First, Keoland is not overly tolerant of wizards. While they don't mind individuals, they are very nervous about them forming any sort of group or society. Also, on the way to Oakhurst, there was a land feature called the Ashen Plain, a blighted area where nothing will grow. The calamity that may have caused this may coincide with the creation of the New Road, implying that perhaps something happened that caused the forming of the Ashen Plain and required you to go around it, hence a new road. Since disasters of that magnitude are either divine, natural, or magical, it may be that some kind of magical happening occurred and would explain all these phenomena. Whatever it may be, it seems to have faded from the memory of the short-lived humans that populate the area. Whether the Sunless Citadel is a key component of this happening or not remains to be seen. 

We found a ravine just before nightfall. Starting at a modest size, it soon fell away until it became bottomless. At one area was a number of ruined pillars. The pillars were covered with crude graffiti in what seemed to be dwarven characters, while the stonework of the pillars themselves had carvings in Draconic. #Grundel observed that the grafitti was not dwarven but goblin, to the effect of "Wretch was here" and so on. The number of spent campfires seemed to indicate that it was a frequent campsite of someone, and goblins seemed most likely. Further the area looked as though it had been brushed of tracks much like the area near the stag. 

Tied to one of the pillars was a knotted rope. Nearby was a somewhat fresher campfire. We suspected we had found the campsite of the twins, and the rope seemed to be a clear indication of their direction. We made camp for the night, being sure to pull up the rope to avoid a nasty surprise. 

In the night, the group was attacked. Two small creatures, about the size of small dogs scuttled up in the darkness. They had the foul stench of evil and blood surrounded them. They could only be described as walking twigs, as though they were made of twigs but twisted to some foul purpose, with sharp claws and teeth of wood. 

Jozan roused us all, and we quickly dispatched the wretched things with no injuries. At this point many things became clear - 

1. These things were clearly what had attacked the stag, though likely a greater number. Since three shapes were seen in the rye, it would be at least three. Given their frailty, perhaps more, or perhaps the stag killed some of their number. 
2. They do seem capable of bringing down a man, as reports in the town indicated. 
3. The areas had not been brushed of tracks by someone covering something - more this was a natural effect of the passing of the twigs. Clearly the area the group camped in had seen these beasts often. 
4. Examination of the bodies showed they seemed to be grown some how, and secreted a poison. Their ferocity and bloodlust, coupled with this poison, meant that they were not to be taken lightly. 
5. As they were being examined, their bodies broke down, leaving hardly a trace. 

This ended the adventure for now. Next week, into the ravine, and certain doom.


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## Zad

*The Sunless Citadel - Chapter 2*

*The Sunless Citadel - Chapter 2*

*OOC Notes:*

Loot: Valanthe has a list 
Experience: unknown - Wizardru is computing. 


*This Week’s Adventure*

When last we left the group, they were about to descend into the darkness on the rope. 

However the attack of the Twigs from Hell (tm) left some concern in its wake. What of the horses? The amount of brushing on the ground made it clear that the twigs came by often. If the twigs could dispatch a stag to satisfy their bloodlust, surely they could do the same to horses. Rackhir volunteered to stay behind and guard the horses while the group made an initial reconnaissance of the depths below. [“Stay behind and guard the horses” translates directly to “couldn’t make it to the game this week”.]

Jozan, being valiant, volunteered to descend first, followed shortly by Valanthe. Unfortunately there were some large rodents waiting as he reached the end of the rope and landed on a rocky platform. 

The rats were hungry and vicious and quickly bit Jozan into near unconsciousness. Fortunately the rest of the group scrambled down the rope and managed to come to his aid. The rats were killed, and Jozan used one of the potions to heal his serious wounds. 

We then proceeded down a long series of stairways that descended to landings and then switched back multiple times. At the bottom was a small area and the entrance to what appeared to be a tower. A pit trap in front of the door was not well concealed enough to fool Valanthe and was easily defeated. 

Inside the tower, there were two doors. There were also four dead goblins, including one pinned to the wall by a short spear. The bodies had been looted. 

Inspection of the area by Valanthe revealed a secret door hidden in the wall. The door held a needle trap for the unwary. Behind it was a small room that seemed to be used for archers. There were three skeletons, clearly formerly archers, in disarray in the room. However upon having their rest disturbed they animated and came at us with fire in their eyes. We quickly dispatched them back to their graves and moved on. (Note to self: piercing does not work on skeletons, get a backup weapon) 

A systematic exploration of the area began. An unusual stone door with a dragon carving was found, but not explored further. Another large room nearby held several interesting features. 

1. Approximately 5 doors 
2. A large fire pit 
3. An altar covered in a green cloth 
4. Several jade figurines 
5. A cage, whose bars had been pried apart and the contents removed or escaped. 
6. Meepo 

By far the most unfortunate of the room's contents, and the most pathetic, Meepo is a kobold. A cowering, pathetic, simpering kobold. The kind of kobold even other kobolds don't like, as we would come to learn. I didn’t need to learn anything however to take an immediate dislike to him.

Meepo apparently was the custodian of a small dragon of some sort, which the goblins had stolen (from the cage). Meepo was quite clearly in deep kobold doo doo because of this. It took only the slightest persuasion to induce Meepo to take us to see his leader. 

We were cautiously received by the kobold queen (a spellcaster). Her numerous guards were quite edgy during the interview but were civil nonetheless (except, of course, to Meepo. I found this to be their most endearing trait.). 

Our interview with the kobold queen was brief but enlightening. To summarize the relevant bits: 

1. The kobolds were aware of the other party (of the children, ranger and paladin) coming through but had no interaction with them 
2. The goblins had stolen the dragon from the kobolds. The kobolds were apparently going to rear this dragon and conquer things with it. 
3. The goblins do not grow the fruit - they purchase it from "The Outcast" who, from the conversation, seems to be a bearded human or humanoid and is likely a spellcaster. 
4. The kobolds want the dragon back 
5. Meepo knows the back way to the grove, where the goblins are. (There was some suspicion that the queen was saying this simply to pawn the disgusting Meepo off onto us, where he would hopefully meet an unpleasant death. This however can likely be attributed to my cynicism and a general dislike for Meepo. Future events would reveal it to be both.) 

We were careful to make no promises regarding the return of the dragon - it would clearly put us in conflict with the goblins. Further if the kobolds coveted it, then it may be questionable to return it to them, however hair-brained a scheme it seemed. Nonetheless the queen did offer rewards for its return. 

Meepo's knowledge was limited. A different door from the dragon's room led towards 'the grove'. However Meepo's knowledge stopped on the far side of that door. Scorch had the foresight to leave chalk marks to indicate our path should Rackhir need to follow us. 

The next area had several doors and a few chambers. There was clear evidence that the other party had passed this way. After a brief look around, we chose to follow the same path they had taken. 

The pit traps in the next room had been discovered by our predecessors and spiked open. A door waited to the east. Upon her routine examination, Valanthe heard noises of creatures stirring. We deployed, ready for a fight and opened the door. 

A fight was precisely what we found. Inside were three more dire rats and another larger rat. Her name was Guthash [ it was written on the inside of her shorts] and she was over six feet long, and apparently their mother. 

Upon seeing the rats, waiting in ambush inside, I loosed my first shot. It pierced one of the rats and killed it instantly. Mother was quite distressed. Two more rats charged through the door, attempting to flank Valanthe and Jozan, arrayed at the doorway poised to strike. As the rats bolted past, they suffered at the blades of the door guards. (Memory getting blurry) Jozan slew the rat that circled him, and Valanthe nicked hers. 

Guthash was distressed at the destruction of her children and leapt from the room. Again the guardians at the door had at her. I shot again and hurt Guthash severely and Jozan struck as she leapt past and felled her. With the death of Guthash, the last rat was slain. Only then was the grim magnitude of the situation made clear. 

These rats apparently made a practice of ambushing people, and the party before us fell victim to this ploy. Inside was the dead body of what must have been the ranger. He was partially consumed but his equipment was intact. After the rats other ill-gotten gains were retrieved, we looked further. It seems that not only did the earlier group come this way, but that they retreated also, likely after the death of the ranger. 

[ We were all learning 3e rules of course. However this is a case where we turned that whole new “Attack of opportunity” thing to our advantage.]


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## Zad

*The Sunless Citadel - Chapter 3*

*The Sunless Citadel - Chapter 3*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience award was 346 per player (200pts for releasing Erky, 9 rats, 13 goblins.) 

Casualties: The DM took 1 point of damage from a d4 of Sharpness. 

Dylan joins the game. 

*IC Note: *

He was there the whole time. Yeah. That's the ticket. 


*Next week:*

Dravot is nearly out of healing (3 pts left). Jozan's lay hands is spent iirc. And Scorch is down a spell. Overall this means our resources are thin. My guess is that it's just after lunch time in this day (Wizardru?) We know which door the goblin wanted to run out of. I suggest we secure the immediate area (door at the end of the hall near the sappers) and then grab the caltrops, throw them in front of the "escape door" and rest for the day. Erky used some healing on himself so he could probably use new spells too. 

Recapping The Companions: 

Jozan Mornlight, Elven Paladin (a.k.a. Jozan the Unlucky, Jozan the Clumsy) 
Valanthe the Sleepless, Human Rogue 
Rackhir the Red, Human Archer 
Scorch, Human Wizard 
Dravot d'Chandagnac, Human Cleric of Pelor (a.k.a. Dravot the Can’t Make a Spot Check to Save His Life) 
Kayleigh, Elven Archer 


*This Week’s Adventure:*

After the handy defeat of Guthash and her children, and an examination of her nest, it was apparent that we had chosen a dead end. We turned around to seek another avenue to the goblin lair. Passing the hallway with three doors on each side (only one of which had been examined earlier) we decided to be more thorough and examine each one. While beginning this examination, the contents of the various rooms burst forth - more rats. 

A total of nine rats spilled forth from the small rooms. One of them took immediately to chewing on Jozan's leg, noting the hole in his armor made by his cousin. [ Apparently there was a memo distributed to the rats via a complicated air tube system. One Winslow the Rat had chewed a hole in Jozan’s armor earlier and had time to dispatch a memo alerting his fellows to the weakness.] Jozan and Valanthe were caught amidst the rats while Scorch and Kayleigh looked on in horror. [ It was either horror or indigestion, since the rations acquired in town were not the freshest. No one can say for sure which.] Fortunately, Rackhir and Dravot had finished securing the horses in a safe location and entered from the other end of the hall just in time to join the fray. [ “secured the horses” translating to “could make it to the game this week”]

A rat or two fell to the blows and arrows of the adventurers. But as the rats spilled into the hall, Scorch selected an enchantment appropriate to the occasion and quickly a magical sleep fell on the rats. All the remaining rats immediately fell into a deep slumber, and the group wasted no time in sending the rats to a more permanent form of sleep (a.k.a. the dirt nap). 

Heading back to a previously unexamined door, the group concluded this must be the way to the goblins and indeed the way their predecessors passed. Since they passed this way, and they looked for traps, clearly this door was safe to open. 

Or not. 

[ the one door we didn’t bother checking. Sigh]

Upon opening the door, we were greeted by several things: 

1. A hallway, perhaps 8 feet wide extending about 20 feet. 
2. At the end of the hall, a small wall, perhaps 3 feet high. 
3. A mind numbing amount of caltrops, scattered most thoroughly along the floor of the hallway. 
4. A very very loud bell, ringing merrily to signal our arrival. 

In no time at all, two goblins appeared at the wall, javelins in hand. Clearly this was a carefully set up choke point, and we had just walked straight into it. 

I concluded that perhaps the goblins could be reasoned with. We were, after all, only seeking a fruit, not goblin blood, and perhaps a deal could be reached. 

The concept of 'goblins' and 'reason' however, were not two that could quickly be united, and the goblins simply waited. 

Left with no other choice, we attacked. Fearing that the goblins would run for reinforcements, I entered the room in order to draw their fire, with the hopes that they would throw javelins at me (and hopefully miss), rather than be smart and run. Rackhir and I would pick off the goblins and move on. 

While this plan had the merits of boldness, bravery, and daring, it did lack other minor elements, such as practicality, luck, and, one could argue, intelligence. 

When I entered the room, the goblins did indeed throw javelins at me. I was nicked by one and avoided the other. Rackhir and I unfortunately had a fair bit of trouble hitting the goblins, crouched behind their little wall. I was able to seriously wound one goblin on my second shot by some miracle, and at that point the other goblin chose to run. 

Under the theory "In for a penny, in for a pound" I charged through 10 feet of caltrops, leapt the wall, dodged the injured goblin and pursued the fleeing one, missing my shot. The rest of the party followed close behind me, picking their way through the caltrops. The goblin continued to run down a hallway, with me hot on his heels. Until I turned a corner that is and came into a room with six more goblins. At that point, prudence made a timely entrance into the fray, and I quickly retreated. 

We were just crossing the first wall, and set up a choke point at the doorway of the hallway the fleeing goblin had run down. The new arrivals were readily dispatched as we were more prepared. This left two more goblin behind a similar 3 foot wall in the next room. Without the additional protection of the caltrops though, they also fell. 

There were several doors from this area. The first one was locked, not that this was of much concern to Valanthe. Opening the door revealed a prison. [Given that is has been several paragraphs since a numbered list was discovered, one will be found here.]

1. There were some kobolds, tied to a spike in the floor. The kobolds were not keen on the notion of being released. They believed they would be ransomed, and if they were released, they would only be killed. Meepo made time in his busy schedule to taunt, tease, and urinate on the pathetic creatures. 
2. A cage held a gnome by the name of Erky Timbers. The group released him and he was willing to join up with them and extract some revenge for his capture. He displayed obvious clerical talents. We armed him with what we had available. 
3. Erky also revealed that until recently, the children and the paladin were held here. Apparently Tolgan, Sardan, and Sir Bradford were captured by the goblins, likely falling prey to the trap that the companions narrowly escaped. They were however taken below three days ago. 
4. The human controlling the fruit is named Bellaq, and is an evil druid of some sort. [But wait, druids are neutral - yeah yeah. This leads to our discovery that druids can be other than true neutral in 3e.] It is he who lives in the Twilight Grove, an enchanted garden in which he cultivates the Gulthius Trees which bear the fruit. [Personally, he doesn't sound like the bargaining type, but hey, you never know.]
5. The goblins do not particularly work for Bellaq, but they also dare not cross him, and they do as he says. This creates an interesting question: why sell the fruit? Did the goblins steal fruit and sell it? Did they sell it on Bellaq's orders? If so, what did he need the gold for? 
6. The prison held no sign of the dragon stolen from the kobolds. 

Another door from the area led to a hallway with two more doors. The first opened onto a room of six goblin sappers. [Unfortunately these goblins were engrossed in a game of "Put your blank on blank's blank" and were taken unaware.] We quickly and quietly killed the goblins with little trouble. [Rackhir even rolled over a 3 for the first time in the evening, and was applauded mightily.] Only one was bold enough to attempt an escape, and received an arrow in his back for his troubles.


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## Zad

*The Sunless Citadel - Chapter 4*

*The Sunless Citadel - Chapter 4*

*Notes for next time:*

Then there's the issue of rest. We needed it before. We desperately need it now. The next course of action seems to be to climb down the tree and investigate what is surely the twilight grove. But the matter of where to rest is still a troubling one. 

Choices: 
1. Outside of the goblin-controlled areas 
2. At the first guard post 
3. In the dragon's room 
4. In the throne room 
5. In the grove 

We have wiped out three rooms of goblins, at least two of which were guard posts. Sooner or later the other goblins are going to notice. And they are probably not going to be happy. Examining the choices: 

Choice 1: outside gobby areas - offers the best potential for some quiet rest but then we have to fight our way back into the goblin areas, which will likely be more heavily defended. Further such a fight would ruin some of the benefits of the rest we just got. 

Choice 2: first guard post - almost guarantees a fight with more goblins. And they'll still know something is up from the other areas. 

Choice 3: dragon room - we can lock ourselves in, and probably be safe for the night. We'd only have to slip from the dragon room to the throne room but that's still probably going to be tricky. 

Choice 4: the throne room - when the goblins find out they have a lot of dead guards, where's the first place they'll go? We can try to barricade ourselves in, but if we do, they may break down the door. Also we still have to leave the citadel somehow, and that would imply going through the goblins. 

Choice 5: the grove - a massive unknown, we could end up in more combat in our weakened state. 

Some other choices include trying to wipe out all the goblins in the common room, or trying to intimidate them by barging in and dropping the dead body of their leader in their laps and telling them not to mess with us. 

The interrogation of the shaman will answer a LOT of questions. Things I'm trying to remember to ask: 

1. How many goblins are there? 
2. How many in the common room? 
3. Are they armed? 
4. How often are the guards changed? 
5. What will they do when they find the dead guards?
6. What will they do when they find out the chief is dead? 
7. What's below? (defenses etc.) 
8. How do you get down there? 
9. Tell all she knows about Bellaq 
10. Why did he want the people sent down? 
11. Why sell the fruit? 
12. Where does the fruit come from? (confirmation etc.) Has she seen the tree? How many fruit on it? 
13. How big is the grove? 

Probably more depending on what she says and other ideas. After we know some of this we can figure out where we can best rest. 

We may be able to rig up some fire arrows for twig blights while we rest, and better fix Rackhir's bow. 


*This Week’s Adventure:*

After the handy defeat of the goblin sappers, the heroes proceeded to the next door. A stout lock barred the door, but yielded to Valanthe's touch. 

Inside were a number of unusual sights. A broken chain attached to a spike was in the center of the room. Various bits of broken furniture were scattered around. Several heads were crudely stuffed and mounted on the wall, showcasing such viscous beasts as rats, deer, and the ever-viscous cow. Clearly the great white hunter had a different standard in his accomplishments. Several parts of the room were also coated in ice. 

Of most note was the baby white dragon lurking in the room. A true white dragon that could not have been more than a handful of years out of the egg, and apparently the captive of the kobolds formerly and now the goblins. It had been chained previously but was now free in the room. 

We were hesitant to simply attack the baby beast. And of course Meepo was interested in its recapture. However the dragon, Calcrix had no such reservations and immediately turned its icy breath on the group. Fortunately most of the party was able to dodge out of the way. 

A pitched but brief battle followed. The dragon did its best to lay us low, but the blows and arrows eventually brought it down. However, not before it deeply wounded Meepo. (Meepo's wounds were tended and he was placed in a safer area to be checked on later. Moving him would surely worsen his condition. One could debate the meaning of “worsen” in this context.) 

During the exchange a wave of luck passed over Rackhir - all bad. His bow snapped in his hands. He charged in with his broadsword hoping it would fare better. After the fight, I was able to repair the bow temporarily. 

During the fight we concluded that returning the dragon to the kobolds was not wise. White dragons are evil by nature. And returning the evil creature to the evil kobolds could serve no good purpose, and neither could setting it free. The dragon's death was probably for the best, and far easier to kill it at this young age than as an adult. 

Scorch wasted no time in carving the icy corpse up into bits. He claimed that many pieces could be used for spell components and alchemy and would sell very well, but there was a light in his eyes as he set to his task that did not seem born of gold. The dragon had accumulated some small treasures and these were quickly added to our packs. 

We were now quite exhausted. However after a great deal of discussion, we decided to press onward. 

Both the dragon's chamber and the goblin guard post opened onto a long smoky hallway filled with columns and burning braziers. Four doors were along the western end. The western door had a great commotion coming from beyond, and it seemed clear that there were a great many goblins beyond, carousing and doing whatever goblins do. 

The southern door revealed six goblin guards. We fell upon them and killed all six before they could raise an alarm. This small room led back towards kobold held territory, and it seemed clear that's what the goblins were guarding against. 

The two northern doors joined together in a corridor. There was another door to the goblin noise, and one that led into a round room. Careful stealth let Valanthe determine what lay beyond... 

Beyond was a large circular room, clearly the throne room for the goblins. This was made most clear by the presence of a crude throne. On the throne was a hobgoblin. Around the room were several goblin and hobgoblin guards. Next to the chief was a goblin spiritualist of some kind. 

Two other notable things were visible: the first was a large hole in the middle of the room, sticking out of which was the top of a tree. The second was a small potted bush of some kind near the throne. 

Having no fear for our lives, and, some would argue, no sense at all, we attacked. (First taking time to spike shut the nearby door to the goblin common area to at least slow down any reinforcements that might attempt to join.) 

Immediately the bush revealed its true nature - no bush at all, it was a twig blight. This explained the tales of the villagers who attempted to grow the fruit. The seeds of the fruit do not yield trees, but instead grow twig blights. When they mature, they simply leave. The goblins were not stealing the bushes at all. The villagers were cultivating the menace that now stalks their livestock. 

The goblins fell quickly, and the hobgoblin guards only slightly more troublesome. The goblin chief however was a formidable foe and was being supported by the goblin shaman. Indeed he almost ended Valanthe's days with a single blow. But as more guards fell to our persistent attacks, and more blades and bows were turned on the large hobgoblin, he drew his last breath and died. 

The goblin shaman wisely surrendered before she met the same fate. 

Most members of us were injured in the battle, and all of the groups spells were spent, save some minor cantrips. 

On the goblin chief's finger was the signet ring described by Hercrule as worn by her children. The goblin shaman indicated that the while Bellaq had called for the three captives, the chief defied orders and slew one of the captives and took the ring. This was certainly Hercrule's son. 

And it was late so we packed it in. I believe we ransacked the room for treasure. We still need to fully interrogate the goblin shaman.


----------



## Zad

*The Sunless Citadel - Chapter 5*

*The Sunless Citadel - Chapter 5*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience for the night was 300 each. 

I pulled "Notes for next time" up to the top. 
And here they are: 


*Notes for next time: *

We should be able to wrap up the adventure in the next session according to Wizardru. This of course depends on how much more of the temple we want to explore after finding Bellaq. Personally, I'd be really embarrassed if I showed up at Gelban's place with a fruit a day after his daughter died, so I'd tend to be in favor of an expeditious retreat (although that stone door is tempting). 

I'm concerned about Bellaq's greater plot. I'm hoping we can get him to expound upon that whole thing so we know we're not doing more harm than good by bringing a fruit to Gelban. 

If the tree is such a source of evil, then we probably should destroy it assuming we can get the fruit we need. 

Since most people's schedules will get hectic after t-day we probably want to try to get this wrapped up sooner rather than later. Expect a message from Wizardru soon. 


*This Week’s Adventure:*

The adventurers, fresh from their pitched battle with the goblin chief, took stock of their situation. Clearly they were all tired and a rest was called for. But where could safety be found in the depths of the goblin lair? To better understand their plight, the group questioned the goblin shaman who surrendered to them. A great deal of information was revealed, as summarized: 

1. There are approximately 60 goblins in the clan hall nearby, but only a dozen warriors. There are also hobgoblins in there. 

2. The guard shifts are changed every 12 hours. 

3. When asked what the goblins would do when the dead patrols are discovered, she said they may send for reinforcements or set more traps. If all else fails, they would retreat to the underdark. There is a way to the underdark from here and that is how the goblins initially came to this place. 

4. When the chief is discovered dead, "The Hunter" would likely become chief. 

5. She has never been below into the grove. The chief and hunter have been. Other goblins have but have not returned. 

6. To get down, simply climb the vines clinging to the walls. 

7. When asked about Bellaq, she said his power holds sway over the goblins. He has mastered the power of the tree. Neither he nor the goblins made the tree but he has found ways to use it. Bellaq's powers are greater than hers. 

8. When asked why the prisoners were sent down, the group was told "for the tree". 

9. I wanted to know why the goblins sold the fruit - it was because Bellaq wanted them to. However the goblins kept the proceeds. This forces one to wonder why Bellaq wanted the fruit sold? Did he know the villagers would try to grow their own fruit? Is there some hidden catch to the healing gift of the fruit? Bellaq's plot may reach further than we had suspected. 

10. There is but one Gulthias tree in the grove. 

11. There is no way out of the grove besides the underdark. 

12. When asked why no fruit was sold this year, she did not know. 

Lastly, the shaman was asked about the motives of the goblins. We had no wish to destroy all the goblins. We simply wanted a fruit and to leave. The net result of the conversation was that she had no ability to make deals, unless The Hunter and all the remaining hobgoblins were destroyed, in which case she could speak for the goblins and would allow the group to depart peacefully. (Of course, if we were trying to leave it would imply that we had killed The Hunter and Bellaq and would therefore be powerful enough not to be opposed in any case.) 

After some discussion, we chose what they perceived as the least of the evils and dug in at the throne room for a long rest. After laying some primitive defenses, we set ourselves to rest. The decision turned out to be a wise one, or a lucky one, or perhaps both. Nothing disturbed us and at dawn, refreshed and recharged, we set out again. 

Before resting, Valanthe took a quick peek into the grove to assess the situation. She saw an open area with several compost heaps and two cloaked figures working in the distance. After a long rest, the situation had not changed any. 

We descended quickly and saw the two figures still working a bit away. A glowing fungus covered the walls providing dim illumination. Two twig blights in their bush state sat towards the middle of the room. About half the party had descended before our presence was noticed. 

The two figures threw back their cloaks and revealed two skeletons, both of whom attacked with their shovels. The twig blights also converged. 

Dravot called upon Pelor's radiance to banish the skeletons back to the darkness and they shattered at his feet. During the engagement, the makeshift repairs to Rackhir's bow gave way to the force of his strong pull, and the bow collapsed into uselessness. Undaunted, he drew his broadsword and entered the fray. Reading this section will trigger an automatic search-and-replace on your computer, and all occurrences of Rackhir the Red Archer will be replaced with either Rackhir the Unfortunate or Rackhir the Red Swordsman, as you see fit. The blights were also quickly destroyed, and none too soon, as a new force entered the fray. 

From a nearby passage came what was surely The Hunter. No goblin nor hobgoblin, but a seven foot tall bugbear howled at the sight of the group. He commanded his "hounds" to attack - two dire rats. 

Editor's note: Now, I could sit here and discuss how absolutely pathetic you have to be to take two rats, care for them, feed them, train them, and call them your "hounds". But I think it speaks for itself. 

[At this exact moment, a skeletal hand rose out from one of the heaps of compost. It held a sign with an arrow. The sign said "Ballsag" and the arrow pointed at the bugbear. Two smaller hands also rose from the fetid depths holding signs that said "Grip" and "Fang" indicating the rats. How fortunate. ]

At this moment, Scorch turned to the rest of the party and said "Ball sack?!?" The great bugbear immediately lost any intimidation value he might have had, but at least he won initiative since the group was sniggering. 

Ok, I'm fibbing a little. 

I saw Ballsack come around the corner, and let an arrow fly. It struck soundly into his shoulder but the bugbear was unimpressed. Threatening to put me into the cook pot, he threw a javelin at me. It tore at my midsection but I was able to twist away from it enough to avoid it being fatal.

The bugbear was a formidable foe. But he was no match for our focused attacks. He attempted to heal himself with a potion during the fight but still fell to our onslaught. His hounds soon joined him.

Inspection of the area revealed a small cave that served as Ballsack's camp. From there was a twisting passage that the group believed led to the underdark. It may have been the smell of the deep earth that gave the clue. It may have been the hard rock that surely never knew the light of the sun. It may have been the still air, hiding secrets forgotten by the overworld. It may have been the sizable yet tasteful sign that said "To the Underdark - you must be at least this tall to ride this ride". Who can say for sure. But it was clear that this was not where their destiny lie - at least not today. 

Among the many weapons on Ballsack's body and in his camp, there was a magical morningstar. 

Another passage led to a corridor that had been shifted in the earthquake that had first swallowed the citadel. The last door led to six rooms of varying uses, several inhabited by goblins performing various menial tasks. Given that no goblins ever returned from here, it was assumed that these were Bellaq's slaves. Our group fell upon the goblins and met with little resistance. 

In the last room was another door that led to some other area yet to be explored. 

The last door led to six rooms of varying uses, several inhabited by goblins performing various menial tasks. Oddest among these rooms was one in which two goblins were keeping watch over a Dire Rat that had been changed in some way to resemble a Twig Blight, with part of it's body turned to wood. It did not look particularly happy about this turn of events, and was restrained. 

Another oddity was the goblins making some type of alcohol, stomping things in a big vat with brewing casks nearby and some were repairing armor. Were they doing these things for the goblins above? Why weren't they doing it themselves? And if the goblins kept the money from the sale of the fruit, where is the cash? The chief didn't have it on him.


----------



## Zad

*The Sunless Citadel - Chapter 6*

*The Sunless Citade - Chapter 6*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience for this session was a whopping 2457. This brought everyone up to 3rd level. Smoke 'em if you got 'em. 

While Wizardru had thought this would be the last session of the adventure, even a late night could not bring that to pass. We will need on more session to clean up. Personally, I'm out of town the weekend of the 17th, but I am available all through the holiday weekend. I doubt we'll need a late night to clean up. 

Which brings us to: 


*Notes for next time:*

We have won. We have a fruit before us and our enemy vanquished. 

We are also a depleted group. 

Scorch has suggested rest, and I tend to agree. We need to gain spells and lick our wounds before making our way out of here. There is of course the question of where to rest but I believe that there are a number of easily defensible rooms down here. Scorch suggested the cavern with the tree and that's an option, but personally sleeping under the shadow of that monstrosity. I believe we're all agreed that the tree should be destroyed. But burning it will likely produce a lot of smoke and we don't want to be nearby. I doubt the fire will spread much beyond the cavern, given the stone and packed earth nature of the place. 

We also have two rescued hostages in our hands - Sharwyn and Sir Bradford. Neither will ever be quite themselves again. And we have the key to our quest - the fruit. 

Action items: 

1. Rest and heal 
2. Destroy the tree 

We can then either explore more of the citadel or make our exit. Given that we have what we came for, and baggage besides (the ex-hostages) I suggest we exit through the front door, stage right. The goblins we will no doubt encounter at the top of the vines can likely be intimidated into moving aside. If not, if we take out the hobgoblins first, the goblins will likely rout when the hobbies are dead. Taking the hunter's head up with us may help our negotiating position  

The only room that I'm still a little curious about is the intricate stone door near the entrance. We could check that out on our way. 

Aside from that we also need to put Meepo back in kobold territory if the gobbies haven't found him. I don't think we need to converse with the queen specifically. 

Once we are back at the village we can make for the coast and deliver the fruit to Gelban's messenger. We can then return to the citadel if we wish, but frankly I'll be glad to put this evil place behind us. We also need to issue a few warnings to the villagers and to Gelban regarding how this whole fruit thing works. 

But we should be able to clean up, journey back and get our props from the boss without too much hassle next time. 


*This Week’s Adventure:*

The tension hung thick in the air, like the sour odor of decay that permeated the grove. The companions knew they were closing in on their prey, and each one silently braced for what they knew would be a deadly confrontation. 

Forging on from the goblin barracks, the group came into a large nursery. Along the walls were high boxes filled with earth and plants of various types being tended.

By bugbears. 

Due to careful scouting, we were able to take these gardeners by surprise and dispatched them without a struggle. One door nearby opened onto another similar room, containing similar attendants. A hasty ambush was prepared and the door opened. We hoped that the bugbears would rush the archers shooting at them, to be fallen upon by Valanthe and Jozan. Unfortunately, the bugbears were less than cooperative, having not received the memo detailing their involvement in the plan. They instead chose to stand firm and throw javelins, seriously wounding me in the process. With both the plan and patience failing, the group rushed the bugbears. This pair put up considerable more struggle than their counterparts. One made a bold play to escape but was cut down before it could reach any aide. 

After the battle, two things became clear. First, that while the glowing lichen provided adequate light to see ones surroundings, it was not nearly enough to nurture all these plants. There had to be some other force tending to them. Second, that the bugbears were, in fact, syphilitic bugbears, accounting for their ferocity in battle. 

An examination of another room revealed three skeletons, their glowing eyes burning with hatred of all things living. This was met with the comment of "Hm." by Valanthe, accompanied by a sense of the blase`. She retreated from the doorway allowing Dravot to open up a can of Pelor's wrath on them. 

Moving on, another room is examined. This room seemed warm, and had several odd holes burrowed into the wall, but no man-sized exits. As the party decided to move on, the resident decided they should stay for dinner. 

Thoqqua!!!!!! 

What's a Thoqqua? A vicious, burrowing creature possessed of great natural heat. It dove at Valanthe and fairly well ripped her leg right off. Fortunately being scorching hot, it cauterized the wound. We hastily fell back. Rackhir swung mightily at the beast and injured it fairly, but the heat exploded back on him and burned him severely. Fortunately we were able to direct sufficient attacks onto the beast from range to dispatch it. A monster such as this could have easily killed several of our number and we were glad to have survived as intact as we did. 

Jozan was noticing an increasing sense of evil. A very tangible manifestation of malevolence lay somewhere ahead. A passageway forked and one side opened to a library. The other onto a room with a grand statue of a dragon with glowing eyes. A deep evil lurked behind the large statue. 

A deep evil that did not waste its time lurking. In the blink of an eye, the shadow was behind the group, its malevolent wrath falling upon the cleric of Pelor, worshipper of that which it hates most. Dravot's will was insufficient to drive back the horror, but Jozan's sword suffered from no such difficulties. 

Behind the statue a small cache was discovered, including two jars of alchemist's fire. 

In front of the statue was a tile about three feet across. Inscribed on the inside edge was an invocation in draconic. I was standing on the tile while I examined it and spoke the words aloud and was immediately bathed in flame from the eyes of the statue. As the flame subsided, well, let us just say 

I looooked mavelous. Simply maverlous. 

And the statue fell dormant to replenish itself. 

A thorough search of the library revealed some tomes of interest, although Scorch would like to examine it in more detail later. 

Behind another nearby locked door the group found for more goblins. [At least that's what my notes say. It made so little an impression on me I can't even remember it happening. ]

Another hallway opened into a large, cavernous area. In this area were plants, trees, and bushes of various descriptions. Glowing lichen covered the walls. In the distance, behind some ruined walls, was a large tree, twisted and perverted by evil. Among the shrubbery, twig blights lurked in their dormant state. 

Planning quickly, we attacked. I fired flaming arrows to draw in the nearby blights and the group dispatched them. In this way we took out two groups of nearby blights before attracting the attention of Bellaq. 

The druid commanded the tree to "Bring them forth". The tree disgorged Sir Bradford and Sharwyn. They had an unnatural, woody look to their skin and stiff movements. They were clearly under his control. In the tree, a large frog lurked. 

Bellaq demanded to know why the party had come. A brief parley followed. Bellaq offered a fruit if they would leave two of their number behind. All eyes fell on Erky and Meepo. 

Well, not really. Just a thought. 

During the discussions, Valanthe was slowly sneaking around the cavern to conduct a different type of negotiation with Bellaq. 

Bellaq revealed that Vecna had commanded him to tend this tree, born when the stake used to kill a vampire was planted. He hinted at great plans soon to bear fruit. He gave the fruit to the goblins, knowing what they would do with it, making it seem as part of his plan. When he tired of speeches, he conjured a ball of flame and sent Bradford and Sharwyn to attack. 

The battle raged for but minutes, but seemed like a lifetime. Bradford attacked Jozan, undaunted by my arrows in his chest. He shattered Jozan's sword with the magic in his blade, but could not strike a blow against a fellow paladin. Jozan was able to take the sword freely from Bradford, and used his healing touch to restore some of his humanity. 

Twigs attacked and fell. 

Quiet careful diligence paid off for Valanthe - she was able to maneuver behind Bellaq and deliver a massive strike. Bellaq howled in pain and outrage. The frog dove at Valanthe but missed and instead fell in a small hole and looked rather embarrassed. 

Bellaq enchanted Valanthe and asked her to defend him. Clearly his pain and fury clouded his judgement and caused him to issue hasty orders to his new friend. 

I then came into firing sight, and loosed a shaft at Bellaq, injuring him even more severely. At death's door, he tried to back away to some unknown escape. But this brought him into Rackhir's sights, and the final blow was struck. At that moment, Vecna's fury was unleashed on Bellaq's failure and his body was consumed in hellish fire. 


*OOC Notes:*

It was late. Really really late. We passed on any cleanup til next time. The fight was over, the remaining twigs were considered 'dispatched' as was the frog.


----------



## Zad

*The Sunless Citadel - Chapter 7*

*The Sunless Citadel - Chapter 7*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience this session: 500 pts 

Wizardru has offered the ability to re-choose skills or feats you started with now that we all know how things work a little better. One time offer only.  

All feats and new levels of spells will be unavailable until we return to Greyhawk and get a chance to train/study/meditate/pray/floss/whatever. HP and save and attack bonuses are in place though, as are skill points
Notes for next time: 
Er, well, none really. We all of course are anticipating our return to Greyhawk and whatever rewards Lord Gelban may choose to bestow on us. From there what happens remains to be seen. 

Phat L3wt: Of the items recovered from the Citadel most are being turned in for cash to be split up. Valanthe has the full list. From my memory we are not selling: 

Shatterspike
+1 morningstar 
presumably some potions 
presumably some scrolls 
the magic flute
the masterwork dagger 
the everburning torch and candle 
Meepo (since nobody would buy him) 

Possibly others - I'll leave this for Valanthe to follow up on. 


*This Week’s Adventure:*

A difficult battle but one we handled well. Now that we've seemingly won, we took some time to rest and look around. We're all wounded and exhausted and none of the spellcasters have a cantrip left to them. 

While we patched our wounds we took some time to look around in Bellaq's quarters and the general area, and the library. 

Of particular note is an unholy symbol of Therizdun I discovered while looking around the tree. [Guess I better get that Greyhawk book.] The foul evil of this symbol was eventually undone by Dravot. But since Bellaq was a follower of Vecna, what was this symbol doing here and so strong? It was too fresh to have been a part of the original temple, and everything present indicates they worshipped dragons, not Therizdun. 

And then there was the prize. Sitting ripe in the tree was one red fruit. I carefully secured it and prepared for its trip to Greyhawk. From the looks of the tree, there was another fruit harvested some time recently. 

Jozan also took time to see to the ailments of the two freed victims of the tree. But theirs is a sickness of the soul, and only his healing touch could ease their troubled state. Even when Jozan had done as much as he could for them, they still were not as they once were, and likely never would be. 

Valanthe, Scorch and Dravot completely ransacked the library. They apparently found something of some interest but for the most part we left these goods to be dealt with later. 

After resting the night and healing a bit, we set forth to exit the Citadel. But the benefits of the fruit were far outweighed by the evil of the tree. We piled up kindling and brush around the tree, covered it all in oil and set it alight. We could hear the screaming of the tree penetrating the cavern, and sometimes still in our dreams. 

We met no resistance until climbing up into the goblin throne room. We found the goblin shaman and her fellows, sitting on the floor in meditation. They clearly wanted no trouble from us and we passed through without incident. 

This was the first time that some type of menace had looked at us and decided that we were too dangerous to anger. I found I rather enjoyed the feeling.

True to his word and faith, we (by that I mean Jozan) returned to check on Meepo. He had stabilized somewhat during his rest and he was healed further by Jozan. Meepo then declared his unfailing loyalty to Jozan by wrapping himself around Jozan's leg. Doubtless Meepo will serve faithfully. At least until he gets scared at which point all bets are off. I found him troublesome enough when he was only to be following on our heels for a short while - the prospect of him following Jozan indefinitely is unsettling to say the least. However I suppose it could be worse - he could be following me. Fortunately he seems somewhat intimidated by me. Of course, he's also intimidated by his own shadow so it becomes hard to tell. 

While we were planning to exit the Citadel and return with our prize as quickly as possible, there were some alluring mysteries still within. We chose to investigate a door which they had not previously. The door was enchanted closed and had no obvious lock. The inscription on the door mentioned the channeling of energy to open the door, and Dravot once again called on Pelor to make his presence felt. The door opened and showed a small room with several sarcophagi. It wasn't long before several skeletons burst forth. What once caused fear was now insignificant compared to the other horrors the group had faced and they dispatched the skeletons with little effort. On an altar was a finely crafted dagger, an everburning candle, and a small, surely magical flute. The candle was attached to Meepo's helm that he might serve some useful purpose. The next time I need to fire burning arrows at twig blights, it should be much easier.... 

Deciding to bypass the kobolds altogether, we returned to the ornately carved stone door they had bypassed on their way into the Citadel. There was much anticipation about what might lie behind the door and tension mounted as Valanthe opened the lock. 

The door opened to reveal a very small room with a rusty iron keg. The keg had several iron pipes leading in and out. This was quite a depressing sight. We were somewhat anxious about what lay behind such an ornate door, and excited about the interesting things that might be contained there in. A brewing keg and some pipework in a closet was not in the spectrum of our imaginings. Somewhat depressed by the limited contents of the room, we moved on. 

Meepo, in his unending desire to serve, knew of our interest in the key that lay in the altar near the kobold queen. Meepo said that the key opened the door in the entry tower. We had forgotten completely about that door when we chose to follow the obvious trail of Bradford and his party. Presented with it now, we decided to examine the door. 

It too was locked, but yielded to Valanthe. The room beyond however contained an enchanted door that resisted all efforts to open. With the key being the only way, we returned to the kobold queen. It took little effort to convince the queen to give us the key - she had no use for it anyway and if it secured our swift removal from her demesnes, so much the better. Again it was clear that the Queen was weighing her prospects, and that she did not like what she found in angering us. Further the key was a small price to pay to rid all Kobold-dom of the scourge that is Meepo.

The key opened the door easily and revealed a room with three darkened globes on pedestals on one wall, and one still glowing on the opposite wall. The music coming from this singing sparkling globe was quite disturbing to all. However it had a particular impact on the elves, who promptly were compelled to leave the room. Even with the sound muffled the compulsion was still strong. Jozan was ultimately able to bolster his will sufficiently to cross the room. I on the other hand could not bear the sound of that music and could not make it even a few steps into the room. I remained outside while they pressed on in what we hoped would be a brief investigation. 

The group crossed through into an area with a pit at one end. Leading around the pit was a secret crawlspace. Beyond the pit was a quasit waiting to ambush the party. Thanks to the secret passage the tables were turned, and the quasit dispatched. 

In this area was a large sarcophagus. Inscriptions indicated the entombment of a dragon priest who had committed some type of transgression and was therefore buried alive, however with full honors. 

The group elected to remove the seals, and a hideous creature burst forth. This troll-like creature began to attack the group with zeal. 

Fortunately due largely to a sound blow by Jozan, the beast was incapacitated. However even then its twisted flesh continued to regrow. The group burned the remains and moved on. 

[While they were with the dragon priest, the kobolds apparently had a change of heart and attacked in force. They poured from the door and brought with them several ogres. (What they bribed these beasts with I cannot guess.) It took many arrows and several crippling sword blows, but I managed to drive them back single-handedly and guard the retreat for the group. I mentioned nothing of this when they emerged after dealing with the dragon priest - they seemed a bit disturbed by the creature and I had no wish to bother them further. ]

After all this, our curiosity ran thin and they departed the Citadel with no small sense of relief. This relief changed to concern when we found the horses, ready for them at the top of the rope. Since they had been secured a safe distance away, this meant someone had moved them in anticipation of the party's return. However being too tired to put much thought to the matter, and with no threat in evidence, we returned to Oakhurst. 

Oakhurst was somewhat surprised to see us on the whole. We had entered the Citadel and returned to tell the tale, whereas the local expedition had met with an ill fate. Hercrule was pleased for our return, if sad of the tidings we brought. The signet ring of her son was returned to her and she rewarded us with 250 gold for their efforts on her behalf. 

We also had a discussion with the mayor and constable regarding the threat of the twig blights and their true origin that they might better prepare for that threat. The mayor informed us that a member of the Silent Brotherhood awaited us in the tavern. 

As we entered the tavern, they found spotting the brother to be a simple task - clad in white, with a veil over his eyes, painted with the image of a single eye, and sitting at a far table, he stood easily apart from the local population. 

He invited us to rest after their ordeal and said he was present on Lord Gelban's behalf to return the fruit to him - the courier we were told would be present. He presented papers to the group confirming his identity which seemed to be in order. Frankly I doubt we had the strength to stop this single man, and if he wanted the fruit for his own purposes, I doubt he'd need to resort to forgery to accomplish it. 

Lord Gelban's letter indicated that the brotherhood offered their services in this matter and had seen the portents of our success before it had happened. 

We then proceeded to relate to him the true origin of the fruit, Bellaq, Vecna, and the symbol of Therizdun. Clearly this man knew much of the situation already, but there were certain elements, seemingly minor details to us, which seemed to clearly surprise him. He was taken aback by the unholy symbol. He also expressed some regret that his brethren had not more completely destroyed the tower and mentioned that it would be handled more permanently. 

He also inquired if we found our horses in good order, answering the riddle of who left them for us. 

After the discussions he placed the fruit in a small box with unknown enchantments on it, and left for his journey. The local folk seemed to pay him no mind, almost as if unaware of his presence. Even the din of the tavern seemed to soften for him and rose again after his departure. He urged us to take our well deserved rest and return to Lord Gelban when we were recovered. 

After he left, I wondered if he had ever actually been there. 

And now I sit, thinking about him and what he said. We've taken a few days in Oakhurst to celebrate and recover (from both the Citadel and the celebration) and we'll be leaving for Gradsul in the morning to sail back to Greyhawk. I've had some discussions with Scorch. I have had some magical talents that have manifested abruptly for many years but could never gain control of them. Scorch suggested that perhaps Lord Gelban could provide some type of help in this matter. Scorch is muttering frequently about research he'd like to complete, and I suspect that Jozan and Dravot will be pleased to return to a proper temple. 

And still my thoughts go back to this Brother. He mentioned the possible involvement of the Scarlet Brotherhood. A name spoken infrequently and always in hushed tones. Indeed why were a force like the Silent Brotherhood even involved in a matter as simple as the sickness of Ariadne? For that matter, what caused her sickness in the first place? Lord Gelban may have uncovered that answer in our absence, not that I think it likely he would discuss it with minor servants such as us. 

I'm left with the strange feeling that we have touched on some plan on a grand scale. Was this a minor matter with an obscure illness? Or was there some greater plan at work? Were we but ants moving in a field of giants playing some game beyond our understanding? 

And more haunting, have we attracted their attention? The Silent Brother may have just come for the fruit to speed its delivery. Or was he also seeking to better understand us? The single eye on that painted veil seems to peer into one's heart, and I wonder what it may have been looking for. 

In the end, I'm sure this will all be of no consequence and that the Brotherhood was simply doing a favor for Lord Gelban and we were simply part of the scenery. I suppose we will see as the years pass.


----------



## Zad

*A Well Earned Rest - Chapter 1*

*A Well Earned Rest - Chapter 1*

Wherein our heroes return to Greyhawk and find there is a deeper plot to Ariadne’s sickness.


*OOC Notes:*

Experience for this session was 850. 100 point bonus for Kayleigh.


*Notes for next time:*

An interesting mystery here. Rather than me repeating the same basic ideas, just read the last couple paragraphs.


*This Week’s Adventure*

After recovering our wits, we left Oakhurst behind us. The folk are nice enough, but I doubt any of us will be in a hurry to return. My human companions seem enamoured of Greyhawk and all it offers. Personally I find the place fascinating but I do occasionally miss the forests of home. We arrived in Gradsul without incident. During the time we reflected on our adventures, and I spent some time thinking of magics.

Gradsul was as we had left it – the last stop on a bad road. I arranged our return to Greyhawk on a ship that would depart in two days time. We took in the city’s sights but it had little to offer. Scorch spent most of the time in his room pouring over his books, while Jozan saw to Meepo’s re-education. At least Jozan bathed him and burned the rags he called clothes. Meepo does seem obedient if nothing else. Of course a lone kobold so far from home would not survive long. Then again, had Meepo remained at home, he probably wouldn’t have survived long either.

As we stood on the deck waiting to depart, a robed gentlemen arrived at the docks.

Arrived is something of an understatement. He appeared in the bay riding a massive wave of water, standing calmly atop it. Seemingly unaware of the interest he drew, he rode this wave into the bay and it stopped as it approached the docks. A massive pod of water reached out to the pier and froze in place forming a bridge of ice which the man walked calmly across. The water elemental then dispersed at an absent wave from him.

He was tall for a human – 6’2” with black hair and dark skin and carrying a staff of gnarled wood akin to driftwood, set with a large gemstone. His blue silks and cape flowed around him as he walked towards someone on the docks – likely the first person his gaze fell upon, and asked some questions. His inquiries led him from person to person until he arrived to speak to the captain of our ship.

He got into a heated discussion with the captain. Heated, at least, on the part of the captain – the man remained calm and in short order the captain gave in to whatever he wanted. The ship left shortly thereafter, the man standing on the forecastle looking backwards across the water.

Scorch, impressed by the man’s control of the elemental, and recognizing a clearly superior power, approached him and struck up a conversation. The man was none other than Drawmij. He had convinced the captain to make a small detour to pick up some cargo. Later I learned that some of my fellows were unaware of who stood on that deck. Drawmij – one of the Circle of Eight – the shadowy group of powerful mages that has worked for years to ensure stability in the Flanaess, creator of Drawmij’s Instant Summons, a powerful summoning spell, and a man of great consequence. He was polite, if not terribly outgoing, and was clearly focused on the matter at hand. Upon reflection, the ship seemed to be moving faster than the winds would normally dictate. It seemed that Drawmij was somehow speeding the journey.

It turns out a small detour to pick up some cargo was also something of an understatement. An hour or so after leaving port the ship stopped for no apparent reason. Out of the sea rose a beautiful fortress seemingly made of shell. It had towers and spans and the mid day sun gave the shell a pearlescent sheen, dancing with the water that it had simply arisen from. It was a breathtaking sight and one I will not soon forget. With the fortress appeared a dock and the ship drew along side it. Drawmij leapt off the ship and entered the place, and shortly thereafter the cargo appeared. Large crates on top of flying carpets that hovered just off the docks came to the side of the ship where they were loaded by crew into the cargo bay. I lost track of how many but there were at least a dozen. After it was loaded, Drawmij returned to the ship, and the fortress slipped silently back into the sea, leaving me to wonder if I had dreamt it all. Drawmij, content that the cargo was safe, went below decks and I rarely saw him for the rest of the trip.

On the sixth day we began to see the lands surrounding Greyhawk, passing Hardby on our right. The docks of Greyhawk reached down from the city proper like some misshapen appendage crawling with a life its own. Inspectors arrived to inspect the cargo and went below but after much noise and implied rousting they were run off the boat by Drawmij. As we were leaving the docks, I could see Drawmij emerging from the cargo hold, apparently undisturbed by the whole event.

Leaving the chaos behind us, we proceeded directly to Lord Gelban’s estate - a high manor house in the heart of Greyhawk. We were welcomed warmly by the guard captain Æthelweard and told that Ariadne was feeling much better and was now up and about. We awaited Lord Gelban in an antechamber who joined us shortly after concluding his business with a very old elven gentlemen. (Interestingly he bore no mark of rank or insignia of station.)

Lord Gelban was dressed in green silks with a circlet nearly lost in his brilliant blonde hair. He welcomed us, and was most grateful for our successful recovery of the fruit and our safe return in the face of such trying circumstances. We enlightened him on some of the more troubling aspects of the mission and I was relieved to see he had taken our warning and removed the seeds of the fruit to the safety of a glass vial. Ariadne was indeed feeling much better, having so far eaten two quarters of the fruit. 

Lord Gelban was troubled by the unholy symbol of Therizdun. He was also interested in the doings of Drawmij on our return journey. 

As a token of his thanks, he granted us each a boon. We withdrew and sorted out our business with his Steward, Nasir. I had given the matter much thought during our return. For some years now there was a magical talent within me. Odd things would happen at odd times, mostly strange lights and sounds. It didn’t take the elders long to realize it was me and then they laughed and all worry eased from their face. I had the ancient gift, they said, and someday might control it. In the meanwhile, I should simply let it develop as it may. Unlike most elven wizards, this talent would not be rushed by study or work, but blossomed on its own. Given the resources of our employer, I decided to ask if they could perhaps direct me. Nasir reacted as if this were a simple matter and arranged for my instruction from a page in Lord Gelban’s employ and further granted my request for a new bow of the finest elven craftsmanship. The others made similar requests for weapons and armor I believe but I am not privy to all their requests.

For the next few days we were largely separate. I spent my time in meditation and other unusual exercises. The elders were right – there was no forcing this gift – it was more a matter of learning to allow it to happen. (The night we spent in a drunken stupor was rather interesting, with odd lights everywhere. I’d relate more of it but I’m afraid I can’t remember too many details.) Scorch withdrew to his quarters in some other area of the city. He may lack grace but he is undeniably passionate about the Art. Dravot was in prayer at the Temple of Pelor. Apparently there is quite a bit of ritual that goes with his advancement beyond the novice rank. Jozan was also in temple, and spent time with Meepo teaching him the finer points of civilized life, such as not urinating in the corner. Valanthe and Rackhir were off in on their own errands but I must confess to having been too busy with my instructor to have noticed much else.

One thing we did make time for was to split up our discovered booty. We kept a few select items and sold the rest. For the time being, we kept the magic flute to investigate further. Upon some checking, Scorch and I learned it was possessed of necromantic magic and had some function that involved raising the dead. We knew that Jozan and Dravot would insist on it being destroyed if they learned of it, but this was likely a valuable item. We contacted Valanthe privately and she was able to sell the flute to one of her contacts for a sizable profit. Fortunately neither Jozan nor Dravot asked about the additional funds or the flute.

One evening, Dravot came storming into the estate making a commotion – he was gathering us up and heading for the manor house at the same time. He said he had a vision while deep in prayer – 

In the vision, he saw two men. One was seated at a desk issuing orders to another man. The standing man reported that the Gulthias Prime had been destroyed by agents of Gelban’s and that the fruit had been used to heal his daughter. The seated man was very displeased at this news. He ordered the standing man to send a full hand to assassinate Gelban. When the other questioned it he said “Yes, all five.” He would also send the Dark Watcher. After the standing man had completed giving the orders, he was to kill himself for his failures. The man accepted this without question and left, while the man still seated clenched a dagger in silent rage. The dagger glowed and then melted in his hand, the molten metal forming the symbol of Therizdun on the desk.

Dravot was shaken by his vision, and consulted with his superior who believed it to be genuine. He rushed here to warn Lord Gelban. We found him in the garden with his daughter. Her hair was even more golden than his and she had much of her color back. Dravot relayed the contents of his vision to Lord Gelban in the hallway but it seems the vision was of what had been, not of what was. 

For the assassins attacked.

The whereabouts of the guard was unknown. The only defense for Lord Gelban was us, hastily armed and unprepared. Five assassins leapt over the wall, armed with hand crossbows and morningstars. We wasted no time in taking the attack to them. Ariadne was in the garden 20 feet from us and we all moved to protect her as best we could. The bolts used by the assassins were clearly of some magical nature for a missed shot that hit a tree caused it to fade to a white color and crack. In the fight Ariadne was struck and fell unconscious but Valanthe managed to get her to Dravot. Lord Gelban worked a few magics, which was odd as that was not his reputation.

As the last assassin stood before us, paralyzed by Dravot, an unearthly transformation took place. He grew in size, twisting in shape to an unholy creature, the symbol of Therizdun burned onto his chest, pulsing with a dark glow. It wasted no time in using magic to call an oily black cloud over much of the field, damaging those within. I drew and fired a well placed shot but it seemed to shake it off with minimal effect – deflected by a slate-like skin. For my next shot I chose to use the magical arrow found in the Citadel – it had quite a bit more effect. This followed by a stout blow from Shatterspike and the attacks from the rest laid the beast low. The transformation reversed and the charred remains of the assassin was all that remained.

Ariadne was seriously injured but was easily healed once the situation was under control. Several guards had been killed by the entering assassins, and the guard was reinforced and sent out with more aggressive armament.

Valanthe mentioned that Ariadne seemed much heavier than she should have been for her size when she picked her up. This struck me as strange, as did the fact that the girl absorbed a lot more punishment than one would expect from a girl of her size. I’ve thought on this and had some private discussions with Scorch. A conclusion suggests itself but it’s too wild to even consider. It’s so far fetched I can’t even put it in writing. For now he and I will simply look around a bit more carefully. 

I’m also left to ponder this desire to see Gelban dead. I say only ‘Gelban’ not out of lack of respect, but because I’m not sure who the target was. The men in the vision were surely of the Scarlet Brotherhood. And Dravot was clear and specific about when they said ‘Gelban’. I had assumed it meant Lord Gelban but the actions of the assassins seem to indicate that their target was in fact Ariadne. But why? What threat could this girl represent to them that they would so adamantly want her dead?

Another interesting detail is the mention of the ‘Gulthias Prime’. That kind of terminology would tend to imply that it was the first Gulthias tree, but is not the only one. The thought of a forest of those twisted trees was enough to keep me from resting that night.

I am also troubled by the source of Dravot’s vision. If it was sent by Pelor, why would Pelor be interested in Lord Gelban? Why would he choose to act through Dravot? Clearly the vision showed something that must have happened days prior, so why did Pelor choose to delay the vision giving us barely enough time to act on it? If the vision wasn’t from Pelor, what other power has an interest in Lord Gelban, and why did it choose to act through Dravot?

We are in the midst of someone’s dangerous game and must tread carefully to avoid becoming an incidental casualty. And Lord Gelban must determine the reason for these attacks and take steps to cut them off, otherwise sooner or later one will succeed.


----------



## Zad

*A Well Earned Rest - Chapter 2*

A Well Earned Rest - Chapter 2


*OOC Notes:*

Experience for this session was 800. 100 point bonus for Scorch and Kayleigh for discerning Lord Gelban’s nature.


*Notes for Next Time:*

Pack your long johns, we’re heading north. We’re going to the Forge of Fury on Lord Gelban’s request and to get out of town for a while and let the heat die down. We have 10 days to prepare.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

After the assassination attempt, Lord Gelban requested that we remain on the estate. All of us stayed save Dravot whose temple duties would not permit it. We were milling about various areas of the estate, checking defenses and so on. I was on the wall discussing things with Captain Æthelweard when the gates flew open and a man barged angrily into the compound. I drew an arrow back and several others in the area also drew their weapons. Æthelweard was also readied himself at first, and then stood down when he saw who the intruder was. (Note that while I can say he stood down, I cannot say he ‘relaxed’ – merely his tension changed to a different type.) As the stranger was shouting “WHERE IS HE?!?”, the Captain put his hand on my shoulder and encouraged me to put away my arrow. I reluctantly did so. As more guards came into the area hearing the commotion, they saw the visitor, and immediately turned around and left the area, trying as hard as possible to be unnoticed in doing so. The visitor’s gaze fell upon Æthelweard and he demanded to know where Lord Gelban was, and Æthelweard told him he was in his suite. The visitor then stormed off to the manor house. Æthelweard moved to scurry off after him, but before I could go, asked him who this intruder was. He said only “Mordenkainen.”

The Circle of Eight are seen as a myth by some. And I have seen two of their number in the span of a week. Mordenkainen is the ninth wizard in the circle, and it’s founder and overseer. Clearly he knew of what came to pass here just now, and he was not pleased. But how did he know, and why didn’t he act? And why was he so angry about it. And why would a man so obviously learned not yet have come to appreciate the value of courtesy.

Scorch found me just after this and I told him Mordenkainen was on the grounds. We again discussed our growing suspicions. Until something was done, the Brotherhood would surely continue their assault until Ariadne was dead. We saw no choice but to face Lord Gelban with our questions in order to better understand the threat. Scorch went to speak with Lord Gelban while I remained on watch with the guards.

Now, as I come to write this, I’ve come to appreciate that this has not been the wisest decision of my life. Scorch is intelligent, and devoted to his art, however ‘tactful’ is not one of his qualities. I’ll make a note in the future to avoid such thing.

As Scorch arrived, he could easily hear Lord Gelban’s discussions with Mordenkainen. From the volume of their conversations, it’s no wonder that Iuz couldn’t hear them as well. Mordenkainen was clearly very mad and ranting about Gelban’s carelessness and he mentioned “the consequences if she is killed.” After hearing enough of this, Lord Gelban more calmly told Mordenkainen that he would not be spoken to this way in his own house, and that the welfare of his daughter was of a very high priority to him. Mordenkainen questioned the use of some of his agents – clearly meaning us – and Lord Gelban mentioned that he had researched them all quite extensively and that they are trustworthy. Lord Gelban then dismissed Mordenkainen, a move which annoyed Mordenkainen but further showed that Lord Gelban was not to be treated this way.

After Mordenkainen departed (by some type of teleportation), Scorch asked him about his nature. He was rather blunt about the matter, but Lord Gelban simply was disappointed in the incessant speed and lack of tact of the child races, and directed him to summon the rest of us immediately. (The implication of the order was somewhat lost on Scorch but he quickly realized he was to see to this matter himself and directly.)

After retrieving Dravot, Lord Gelban bade us sit and addressed us. He had a task for us. We were to . . . verify something. It was likely that his enemies and his daughters were moving to cause problems and something needed to be checked on. He again stated that he had researched us all thoroughly, even those of us with a more checkered past, and had determined that we were all trustworthy.

Beneath Castle Greyhawk, there is a chamber. Ariadne’s half brother is imprisoned there. We must determine that he is still safely bound. There are other extraplanar beings bound in this chamber – originally there were nine but now there were eight (Iuz of course had been released). We must not engage with any of the beings bound there – to do so would be perilous. And do not touch the stars. (He explained this no further and we assumed its meaning would be plain later.)

Lord Gelban gave us the last quarter of the fruit. The seeds had not yet been removed and we must do so before setting out. In the chamber in the castle is a being, as dark and shadowy as Ariadne is beautiful and light. He is bound there, and will have wounds on his chest. He will not be able to move or respond but will eat the fruit if it is placed in his mouth, at which point the wounds should disappear. He and Ariadne are linked – when she was ill and given some of the fruit, some was also given to this being. Now she has had more and he must have the rest to maintain the balance. If he is not there, or is not wounded, then he is at risk of becoming loose and we must report that.

As for Lord Gelban himself, Scorch and I were correct – he is indeed a gold dragon. He is called The Gilden among his own kind and leads a council of similar folk, including Nasir, a copper dragon, called The Cupric. Dragonkind it seems does not quite trust the folk of the world to see to its destiny and is making efforts to guide matters. Lord Gelban questioned our conclusion that only the Scarlet Brotherhood was at work here and it seems we may be in error – there may be more at work than just the brotherhood – the methods of the assassins do not seem consistent with their methods. 

We must set out immediately for the castle – Lord Gelban cannot go himself. Apparently the protections of the chamber bar any who would be powerful enough to release those contained therein. (A wise precaution I suppose.) Lord Gelban gave us a key, and indicated that Mordenkainen would be waiting for us at the Castle.

We prepared quickly. While we gathered our weapons, Scorch removed the seeds from the fruit. [And rolled a 1 on the skill check. Disturbing indeed.] Once we were ready we headed through the city to the castle. There were few people on the street this time of night, and Valanthe spotted someone who seemed to be following us. As he was seen, he leapt to attack. He stated only that the Enlightened Cousin had declared our deaths. (This is a term of rank used by the Scarlet Brotherhood, and surely this monk seemed to be trained in many of their ways.) He leapt into the air and landed amongst us, stunning with his fists and striking blow after blow. Even surrounded we were hard pressed to put a weapon on him. Every arrow I sent his direction he knocked aside or simply twisted to avoid. However even this skilled man could not avoid our blades indefinitely and we slowly wore him down. He appeared to heal himself by sheer will alone and continued fighting. We began working in concert and eventually Valanthe scored a mortal blow. He lay near death and we debated keeping him alive for questioning. It was my belief, shared by others, that if he reached consciousness, he would kill himself to avoid questioning. So I simply dispatched him and we hurriedly moved on to the Castle.

Mordenkainen was there waiting and we told him of the ambush. He stated that he would deal with the body. He reiterated our purpose and the warning not to interact with the other beings. He said that there were three doors at the bottom of the stairs and that there was some degree of randomness and shifting about the place and there was no way to know what we would face on the other side of those doors. The guards escorted us as far as the top of the stairs and waited there for our return. 

Three doors faced us – one of wood, one of steel and one of stone. For no apparent reason, Jozan and I seemed to favor the wooden door and on that one we used the key. It glowed blue and opened for us. On the other side was a rough hewn stone hallway. Jozan and I entered but when Valanthe tried, she was stunned and thrown back. At that point the humans all realized they had a preference for the steel door. The key was handed over and they opened that one and entered easily. Oddly the door opened onto the same hallway and once through we all stood together. We theorized that the stone door might be for those of dwarven descent but continued on our way.

We came to a small stone room with a huge glowing piece of malachite casting a green glow. The floor was tiled and clearly in disuse. Valanthe determined that every few feet the tiles were trapped and would give way. However as I examined it, I seemed to both agree and disagree – the floor was trapped but the spots she said were safe, I saw as unsafe. We both carefully tread on the areas we saw as safe, and we both seemed to be right. Indeed this place seemed to be the same yet different depending on the race of the person looking. 

The next room had a pair of rope bridges crossing a chasm. We were beginning to understand the nature of these traps and Valanthe and I each looked for which one was real to us. Valanthe was able to stand on the left bridge, but neither seemed real to me. Jozan tested the floor however and found that while it seemed to be a deep chasm, we were able to walk on it. With this we all crossed the room.

The next room had a series of narrow beams criss-crossing it. One set was real to me and I set across it. The humans were able to walk on the floor this time. However the beams were slick and both Jozan and I lost our footing. Fortunately since the floor was solid to the humans they were able to assist us and we all crossed.

The next room was the chamber we sought. Around the edge were eight mirrors. Large patches of the floor were gone, replaced with the night sky. (The stars Lord Gelban warned us of.) In the center was a raised dais with a dark beast on it. 

Scorch handed me the fruit and I braced myself and entered. I wasn’t a few feet into the room before I felt a tugging on my soul. I tried to resist it but I was drawn away. I found myself standing in a clearing in a forest. Nearby a figure sat on a rock in brightly colored leathers playing some kind of instrument. Instead of my armor, I was wearing a colorful dress and my bow was gone, though I still retained the piece of the fruit.

I hailed the figure on the rocks. He showed some interest and turned. He wore a mask, such as those in the theatre, of comedy and tragedy. The mask shifted with his mood as he spoke. I came slowly to realize that the figure before me was Olidamarra, who must be one of the others bound in this chamber. Lord Gelban had warned us not to interact with any of them, but it seems I had little choice. 

Our conversation was strange and disquieting. Even when he spoke to me, he seemed distracted on other matters. When asked why I had come, I took a risk and spoke the truth – a being such as this would surely have seen through any deception anyway. He commented what a fine wine that fruit would make. I said something of the scarcity of the fruit now that the tree was gone, and he said that there were others and to simply seek the twig horrors. (Confirming our fears, if this creature is to be believed.) He commented that he had “uses for one such as me” and “would summon me again”. Some of his words made me think he was not completely bound here and that he still had influence in the mortal world. He then released me but I was so shaken that I could not move for several minutes.

To the rest of the group I was simply frozen in place and not responding. Valanthe entered the room but before she reached me, she too was drawn away. She found herself in a desert, a nomad in a turban walking nearby. He said he was the unsought one. (We later learned this is apparently one of the old Sule gods who is no longer worshipped.) He cautioned her to beware the Tripartate and any mortal who quests for it. 

Eventually we were able to re-assert ourselves, or perhaps the powers that held us were simply no longer amused and let us go. I approached the dais and saw the dark beast bound and motionless. Scorch believed him to be a cambion – a half-demon creature. He was wounded on his chest, as we had been told to verify. I placed the fruit in his mouth and he slowly chewed and ate it. It seemed as though he did not wish it but was compelled by his binding – the juice even ran down his chin. The wounds on his chest disappeared after he ate the fruit and we were satisfied that all here was as it should be. Avoiding any further eye contact with the mirrors or the stars, we left quickly.

Our departure was uneventful. Upon exiting the castle, a small ball floated in the air, with a mirror-like shine to it. It saw us, examined us briefly, and then floated off. We shrugged it off and returned to the estate. There was no sign of a struggle at the street where we killed our would-be assassin.

Lord Gelban received us immediately. We reported the details of our trip. He seemed pleased at our report, and concerned by the attempt on our lives. He did know of the Tripartate and believed that Mordenkainen had placed the two known pieces in the hands of bitter rivals to keep them apart.

Lord Gelban offered his thanks for protecting his daughter and seeing to these other matters. He again displayed his generosity, gifting us each with 250 gold pieces, and an item suited to us. Valanthe received a finely crafted set of tools suited to her trade. Jozan received a holy symbol of his order of the finest silver. Dravot was presented with tools of his order, for practice amongst 'the shadowed'. Scorch was provided with a small box that he examines and jealously hoards, never allowing others to see. It bears the seal of the Abjurants, his guild. Rackhir and I each received five arrows of surpassing quality. I plan to study them carefully so that I may make more in the future.

After some reflection, Lord Gelban concluded that we should leave the city for a time. This would allow the situation to cool and the Scarlet Brotherhood to turn its attention elsewhere. He would be moving Ariadne to a safe location and therefore would be protected. 

He would send us northward to seek out Glitterhame. An old friend – a dwarf – ran afoul of orcs and retreated to the Yatil mountains and made a fortress and enchanted weaponry to protect it. We are to find the forge and any remaining artifacts. He would like us to return with any swords and any useful documentation. We must journey northward and seek the Stone Tooth – a mountain of some kind I’m sure.

We all made ourselves ready. I finished my instruction. I was now able to control several small spells. I’m pleased by the spells I’ve learned but and somewhat inconvenienced by my armor. For now it’s a price I’m willing to bear.


----------



## Zad

*The Forge of Fury - Chapter 1*

*The Forge of Fury - Chapter 1*

Second published module. We were being sent north because clearly Greyhawk was too dangerous for us for the time being, and because Lord Gelban wanted us to help his old friend. I can now speculate he had other reasons for us being in the area also.


*OOC Notes:*

Wizardru would like to move us along to the fortress quickly since there’s quite a bit of stuff there to do. He also has warned us that this won’t be as easy as the Citadel. Personally I think we did great with the ambush of the orcs and that’s the kind of teamwork we need to use in the fortress and if we do, we should be in good shape.

Experience from this session is 400 each.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

Perhaps ‘completed’ was too hasty a term. I thought I had finished my studies for the time being. I was beginning to assemble my supplies and some warmer clothing for the trip, when my instructor informed me that I had one more task to complete. I was to make preparations and at moonrise I would summon a familiar. I was put off by the idea at first – my life had been so hectic of late, I was unsure of travelling with an animal in tow. While I have had pets before, they were always in a quiet home with a warm hearth. I did not think an animal would take well to adventures such as the ones I now found myself in. Then again there was a day that I did not think I would take well to those adventures either. He seemed to anticipate my concerns and told me that I underestimated the loyalty and intelligence of such animals and that he had no doubt it would help me greatly in the trials to come. Further it would be an important step in allowing the magic within me to flourish and perform at my direction.

So as instructed, I gathered the necessary materials, and at moonrise, we began. I had studied the ritual thoroughly and felt prepared – it seemed straightforward enough. Then my instructor said “You must listen to me carefully Kayleigh – this is not as simple as it seems. Once the ritual has started you must follow it through to the end. You must not stop, regardless of distraction, or pain, or any interruption. If you do not complete it, there are unfortunate consequences. Heed my warning.” This gave me pause – I had no idea what type of interruption could occur but there was an ominous tone in his voice that made me think my persistence would be tested and the consequences would be severe.

At moonrise we began. It went well at first and I had few missteps. The words of the old tongue flowed easily and the first few hours went by quickly.

After a few hours, I became aware of a presence. I saw nothing and heard nothing. My instructor was napping on a couch at the time. But I was sure there was something nearby, watching. It wasn’t malicious or evil, but more of a feeling of curiosity – as though I had attracted something’s attention. The feeling grew stronger over the next hours until I was certain I was being closely examined by something unseen. I continued the ritual.

By the time dawn was near, I had grown almost used to the presence. I had come to accept it as part of the ritual and continued with the ancient words. The incense still burned slowly in the braziers and the candles still burned strongly, and I drew strength from their quiet flames. But the building presence was coalescing into something more . . . tangible for lack of a better word. Just before dawn I added more incense to a brazier and when I looked up at the window I saw a shape there. It startled me enough that I almost forgot the next phrase of the incantation. Fortunately I recovered my wits quickly and continued.

I sat again in my circle and looked at the shadow. As the sun slowly rose, it was clear this was no shadowy undead figure – it was some feline predator – silent, vicious, and deadly. Then a little more light came through the window and instead I saw a cat.

No longer vicious and deadly, it was simply a cat. There were certainly enough of them in Greyhawk. He studied me from the window for some time. And the building presence that had been in the room for hours blended with his warm golden eyes. No chance visit from a stray cat, this creature was considering whether to answer my call. And as it watched me, I continued my incantation.

After an hour or more, he jumped down from the window with a simple grace. He made no sound as he landed, but my instructor still awoke with a start and looked about. He saw me, still repeating my incantation. And then he saw the cat, and he smiled slightly, but then tried to hide it so I would not notice his grin. And he watched.

The cat slowly investigated the room. My eyes were locked on him. He was fascinating. He moved without a sound, every step perfectly placed. He was brown and orange and looked like a small tiger. His tail flicked absently as he moved around the room, investigating shelves and books. He seemed to take little interest in me nor my instructor. 

I continued my incantation unhurriedly – according to the ritual, I would be continuing until nearly moonrise. The cat could investigate to his hearts content. He wound his way around the room until he was near the couch. My teacher was still sitting on the couch watching us both. The cat sat down and looked at him with some impatience. When my instructor did nothing but return the gaze, the cat let out an impertinent meow. My teacher quickly got off the couch and backed away, and the cat looked at him with a disdainful sideways look and got on the couch. I had to fight from laughing and interrupting my chant. The cat then sniffed at the leftover food on my instructors plate and wrinkled his nose at it. He then turned back to lay on the couch in a sunny spot and watch me. At that point I decided he was the most beautiful creature I ever had seen. 

He spent an hour napping and watching me at the same time. It was around mid-morning and the sun had shifted away from the couch enough that it was no longer warm, and he seemed bored with laying about. He got down and walked over to me, just within the chalk circle I had drawn on the floor. He was within arms reach of me but any move towards him would interrupt the ritual. He sat down and looked at me as I continued my chant.

He looked at me again. His look said “Pet me.” And I dearly wanted to. He was so majestic and adorable at the same time I wanted to reach out and pet him. And the look from my instructor echoed his warning in my ears – to pet him was to interrupt the ceremony.

As if slightly annoyed that I did not grasp his message, he moved a few inches closer and again looked at me. This time it was more of a “Pet me silly elf! Why aren’t you petting me yet?” And again I nearly did. But I continued my incantation.

And he turned his head slightly and looked again as if to say “Pet me, please?” and he let out the softest squeak. And he was so adorable and wonderful that I couldn’t refuse him. And I let the words from the chant fall from my lips and I reached out and scratched him between his ears. He raised his head into my hand and walked into my lap and settled down for further attention.

As he did, I realized I’d failed. I had stopped the ceremony, and wasted all my efforts. Likely the bonding was not complete and this precious cat would depart. Not to mention whatever other consequences awaited me. I looked shamefully up at my instructor, even so only feeling slight remorse as I could feel the cat’s purr in my lap. 

Rather than looking at me in stern disapproval, he was smiling. My confusion must have been evident on my face, and he simply said “To be willing to accept consequences for the love of your familiar is truly to be worthy of him.” He smiled again and left us alone. And then I understood that the true test was to know when to stop the ceremony.

I’ve named him Rasha, in old elven. It’s a name he’s agreed to deal with for the time being. He has his own name but it’s more of a concept right now than something I can verbalize. He’s quite smart and I know he’ll make a wonderful companion. And I’m going to need his help for this trip.

After our preparations were complete, Lord Gelban briefed us again. We reviewed the route and he also added that there had been several raids on merchant caravans in the area near Blasingdel and he would like us to look into those as well as a favor to the local authorities. The rest was much like our first briefing, and we were shown the maker’s mark of the dwarven smith whose weapons we were to retrieve.

We set off quietly and were hardly noticed leaving town. Of course if we had been, I’d have been surprised given the number of comings and goings around Greyhawk. We had an uneventful trip northwest, both following rivers and crossing overland, staying at inns and roadside taverns for the most part. 

But as we were nearing the edge of Furyondy’s territory, fate brought us across a most disturbing scene. We were travelling along the edge of a small forest and came across a band of orcs in the distance. We carefully scouted them out and saw several disturbing sights. First, they were marked with Bright Hills heraldry – these orcs had come from far to the south beyond Greyhawk. Second, they were clearly planting some type of small sapling. Third, they were being supervised by an orcish Druid and his wolf companion. The Druid seemed respectful to the orcs but also was clearly the one giving orders. My mind immediately shuddered with thoughts of the Gulthias tree and the horrors it spawned and my instinct said there was a link. And instinct that proved to be sadly correct. We went backwards along their path and Rasha’s nose easily found the newly planted saplings, for the ground they had been planted in was soaked with fresh blood. There were two varieties of plants. From the orc’s conversations we inferred that one was a twig horror and the other was a bark blight. The twig horrors were mentioned in my vision from Olidamarra and again I shivered.

We collected ourselves and quickly devised a plan to ambush the orcs. Orcs are not persistent hunters – they are too lazy to chase healthy prey. They will however chase an injured animal. I was all too familiar with the ways of the wretched orcs – it was due to them I first set aside a spellbook for a bow, and because of them many in my village were killed. We devised a plan that entailed using a spell to create an image of an injured stag, and this would lure the orcs in to our ambush. 

But as we circled to get in front of the orcs, Jozan’s horse took a bad step and went down. Fortunately neither Jozan nor the horse was injured but the horse let out enough of a cry to alert the orcs. Our carefully laid plan was about to fall apart unless some revisions were made quickly. 

Instead of conjuring the image of a stag, I instead conjured the image of a horse, limping on one leg. The orcs were hardly particular about their dinner and this would easily explain the noise. The horse limped away from them and towards us, drawing five of the six orcs with it. (Fortunately the Druid was nowhere to be seen, having gone on ahead presumably.) The orcs were within ten feet of the limping horse and we struck. I doubt they even realized it was a phantasm until we attacked.

The battle was brief and decisive. Dravot invoked Pelor’s blessings upon us all. Valanthe, who had disappeared into the tall grass, reappeared behind one orc and dealt him a severe blow. Scorch called a magical sleep down upon some of the orcs. During the battle one orc awakened another but both were cut down. The last orc made a run for the shelter of the woods when he realized his life would be forfeit if he remained. I could do nothing but smile as I watched him run in the open field. I drew and fired twice, and he rolled down the far side of a small rise dead from my fire. I was impressed by my companions quick action – clearly we had all learned much in our adventures thus far. We checked the orcs and found more saplings but little else of merit. But there were signs that indicated that the orcs worshipped Vecna. Our eyes turned towards the forest and the remaining orc and the Druid, but we were brought up short. A storm was gathering out of the clear sky – the Druid was aware of our ambush and was preparing an action of his own. If the storm reached full strength he would be able to summon it’s deadly lightning and we would stand little chance against such an assault. Deciding we were overmatched, we withdrew from the area with all speed. It was more important to bring word of this onward than it was to hunt down the remaining orcs, and little would be served by our death in any case.

We rode onward, and soon crossed into Highfolk. Jozan was raised here and knew the area well. The countryside was dotted with alarm bells and while seemingly a peaceful farming community, Jozan assured us that they folk were well prepared for any assault. It was becoming dark and we would not reach the city before nightfall. Jozan suggested that we take shelter in a farmhouse and that all are welcome who are willing to work to earn their keep. He could have been no more right. The folk of the home, both human and elven, were warm and welcoming to strangers and we had a good meal in exchange for our skills, each according to his talents. Dravot and Jozan were able to heal the minor ailments of the local folk. Rackhir and I assisted in re-supplying the arrow stock of the house and other household chores. Scorch I believe was washing dishes for his hands were rather wrinkled and he kept mumbling about lye soap the rest of the night. During the evening I managed to find out more about the Stonetooth without being too obvious about it and had a good idea of how to get there.

As we sat about the common room, talking with the locals and enjoying the wine, an elf arrived with his party. The locals hailed him by name as Aran’gel. I was told he was the local warden. He and his men scattered about the room, and he hung his bow on a rack near the door, in a spot that seemed almost reserved for him. The bow was gilt in silver and while it was clearly a masterpiece of the boyer’s art, it was the enchantment that made it truly exceptional. I should be as fortunate to have such a bow some day. Strangely his quiver had but three arrows in it – surely enchanted as well. Aran’gel recognized Jozan and joined us at our table. He was a pleasant and handsome man, and a wealth of information about the local area. Jozan trusted the man and was able to get detailed information about the raids on the merchants, the way to Blasingdel and to the Stonetooth beyond and so on. Jozan also informed him of our encounter with the orcs and what the saplings surely were. Even though the area was beyond Highfolk’s borders, he said that he would strike out with a party and deal with the issue. We warned him of the Druid we encountered and his apparent strength and he simply said he had a way to deal with Druids and removed an arrow from his boot and laid it on the table. It was apparent to me that there was nothing special about this arrow. I looked up from the arrow to him and it suddenly all came together – he was an elven champion – one of the arcane archers who had melded the Art and the Bow into a single art. Each time he drew and fired he put spellcraft into the act and his arrows would fall enchanted as surely as the one I found in the Citadel. I had met only of his like before, in Celene, passing through meeting with my father. I barely had the talent to understand who he was then, but there was no mistake as to the nature of Aran’gel. At that point Rasha’s curiosity also manifested and he stopped napping inside my cloak to come up on the table and investigate Aran’gel for himself. Aran’gel regarding him for a moment then held out his hand, which Rasha sniffed and then allowed himself to be pet in his own insistent way. Aran’gel seemed amused by this, and looked at me and remarked “A new familiar? The bond is fresh but very strong.” I nodded and we continued our conversation. 

Upon reflection, I was even more surprised at Aran’gel – I did not realize that Highfolk had such elves among them. Of course since some elves left Celene and settled in Highfolk, it’s possible that the tradition came with them. Or perhaps he received his training elsewhere. When we return through here, I may have to ask him.

In the morning after a good breakfast, we set out towards the city of Highfolk. Once there, we found a merchant caravan heading towards Blasingdel. We offered to accompany them as bodyguards in an attempt to ambush the raiders – since they were not easily found by organized forces, we hoped we could bring them to us. However the caravan was not attacked and we reached Blasingdel without incident. There we spoke to the mayor who informed us that Lord Gelban’s last group had determined that the orcs were holed up in a fortress near the Stonetooth. So it seems both our goals point northwards into the mountains and the Stonetooth. It would seem that the orcs have moved in and we’ll need to evict them before doing our survey of Glitterhaime.

I just wish it wasn’t so cold.


----------



## Zad

*The Forge of Fury - Chapter 2*

*The Forge of Fury - Chapter 2*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience this session: 1000

There will be some corrections/additions to last session’s notes – Wizardru will be sending me something.


*Notes for Next Time:*

This session was a great piece of work. We’d have been hard pressed to make that go much better. We’ll need to rest soon. If we find the orc chief quickly we can probably take him out and then rest. If not we’ll need to rest before that, but that obviously has a few risks to it.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

We left our horses in Blasingdel. They wouldn’t save us much time with the rocky terrain we’d have to cross. We set off into the pine forests and made for the foothills of the Stonetooth. It took about three days for us to reach the imposing stone, and we camped our last night with the giant rock behind us. 

As we approached we could occasionally make out a plume of smoke rising from the mountain. We also saw a road criss-crossing the mountain leading to the Stonetooth, which we avoided for obvious reasons. None of us were eager to charge into the teeth of this fortification – surely the orcs would be well prepared for visitors. So we spent some time trying to locate the source of the smoke. Rackhir fortunately has a fine sense of direction and was able to get us in the right area. Valanthe and I scouted around quite a bit and were about to give up when a stroke of blind luck revealed a chimney. Now that we knew the location, we returned and brought the rest of the group.

The chimney stood some four feet out of the earth made from local stone and with an opening about three feet square. It seemed to descend into a natural fissure in the mountain – the stonework was just there to keep from setting the surrounding forest ablaze. Fortunately whatever fire burned below was very small, and there was very little smoke rising from the chimney. We decided that whatever was below was probably preferable to entering via the front door, and we prepared for a descent.

Valanthe set off down a rope. Unfortunately the fissure was a fair bit deeper than her rope and she had to attach another length during her descent. She emerged into a crude kitchen with a stew pot on a low fire. The rest of us made our way down. Fortunately the kitchen was empty at the time. However in the cave just beyond, three orcs were playing dice while one lazily watched a cage. Valanthe was able to knock out the guard during her initial scouting and we made quick preparations to ambush the remaining orcs. She and led the attack and Jozan was able to quickly and quietly drop the remaining orc. I took the time to say an elvish curse as I slit the throat of the unconscious orc. 

In the cage were two prisoners – Geradil and Courana. They were local farmers who were captured by an orcish raiding party and were being held for ransom. Unfortunately their family was not a wealthy one and could not afford such a ransom. They had been there a month, hardly eating and badly treated. A hushed discussion convinced them that while we would certainly rescue them, we had not yet secured the area and the safest place for them right now was in the cage. There were three passages out of this area, one with a door, slightly ajar. Dravot was investigating near the door, and I joined him. The door abruptly slammed shut – the orcs on the other side must have heard us and were making preparations. We quickly regrouped and opened the door.

In the next area was a room split by a deep chasm. On our side were several large rocks while on the far side were only some burning braziers providing light. A rope bridge crossed the chasm. On the far side were three orcs with bows, and one with a large axe, poised to cut the bridge.

It didn’t require a master tactician to see that the tables were turned. The orcs would wait to ambush outsiders from the dark and the rocks while the invaders would be on the far side in the light. We did not wish to see the bridge cut however so we moved quickly to the cover of the rocks. Scorch set his magical sleep upon some of the orcs while Rackhir and I set to work on them. The ranged fight was clearly in our favor and the orcs were killed before the bridge could be cut or an alarm could be raised. Valanthe crossed the bridge and scouted a bit – beyond the door on the far side was the cavern that led into the fortress from the road. There were arrow slits, manned by orcs, ready to attack any invading force, and at least one orc in the cavern itself – probably a scout. I crossed as an oddity in the wall drew her attention. She had discovered the secret door that must lead to the arrowslits and the waiting orcs. I suspected a matching one on the other side, but could not find it without her help. The rest of the group crossed the bridge and we set to confront them.

The action began when Jozan kicked in the front door. I was distraught that he would do something so loud and alert all the orcs to our presence. But on the other side were two orcs, waiting to do the same thing. One orc was bowled over backwards by Jozan’s bold action and I reminded myself to have faith in the divine. One the south side, there were two orcs in a small room. Valanthe and Rackhir were able to dispatch them quickly despite them realizing someone was there. On the north side, There were five orcs. Dravot used a burst of sound to stun some of the orcs and I began dropping them. Dravot then moved in with his mace, while I continued to shoot. The odds mounted when Rackhir, freed from the south side, joined the fight. In the center, Scorch waded in with his staff to help Jozan with the orcs. I’m not sure what came over him – such a lust for close combat is not his usual style. This was reinforced when one orc swung hard at him with an axe, and wounded him severely. Fortunately Jozan was able to put them down before they could inflict further injury to Scorch.

We assessed the scene afterward. A total of sixteen orcs lay dead at our feet, and their hold on the entryway was broken. After looking over the bodies for anything useful, we dumped them in the chasm to avoid alerting anyone passing through. It was a very deep chasm and there was the vague sound of water at the bottom. We then returned to the prisoners.

While it was possible for them to escape now, they would be alone. They knew two more orcish raiding parties were still outside the fort somewhere and would be returning in a day or two. They were also weak from their captivity. We gave them blankets and furs and food and released them from their cage with the understanding they would hide and remain inside the fort until we were ready to leave and we would escort them home.

They were able to provide a fair bit of useful information. The raiding parties consist of four or five orcs. Two were currently out, while one we had already killed. The two that were out could return any time in the next day or two depending on their success. The orcs were being led by something called Great Ulfe and he was no orc. He was eight or nine feet tall. We suspected he was an ogre.

We began to explore further. In the next area were supplies, foodstuffs and trade goods – the booty of the orcish raiding parties no doubt. One passage was blocked with tightly wedged crates and boxes – when we removed them we saw a large stone chamber with dwarven carvings and a large stairway heading down. Since the orcs seem to have walled this area off, we decided to explore it later. First we would remove all the orcs and eliminate the threat of ambush from the rear. 

Another room held four orcs. Unfortunately surprise was not something on our side, but nor was it on theirs. We entered the room to eliminate them.

These orcs however were much cannier combatants and proved much harder to defeat. I entered and took my first shot, and Jozan then entered to screen me. The orcs moved up to him and tripped him, leaving him vulnerable. Another orc struck him a heavy blow while others closed in. The attempted to trip Valanthe and I both, and while their strength is not to be taken lightly, their agility is, and we were able to twist away and stay on our feet. The fight was looking rather grim for a moment but the tide began to turn as more of us entered. As each orc fell we were able to direct more attention on to the next one and soon they all lie dead. Jozan had been deeply wounded during the battle but Dravot’s attentions were able to repair much of the damage. 

Again we disposed of the bodies and tended our wounds. Hopefully not all the orcs would be this tenacious but I wouldn’t count on that.


----------



## Zad

*The Forge of Fury - Chapter 3*

*The Forge of Fury - Chapter 3*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience This Session: 1250 each. 250 point bonus to Jozan for handling the bear. 250 point bonus to Dravot for asking Meepo about troglodytes. Anyone wanting to double-check my math would be more than welcome to do so. Breakdown was:

1. 2 troglodytes CR 1 = 600
2. 1 bear CR 4 = 1200
3. Orc encounter – due to difficulty modified by 1.5 so 3400 * 1.5 = 5100
1. Great Ulf CR 3 = 800
2. Old Yarrick CR 3 = 800
3. 3 wolves CR 1 = 900
4. 6 orcs CR ½ = 900
5. 4 stirges CR ½ = 600 (Wizardru verify CR? That’s the only one I didn’t get from you.)

I expect we’ll all level next time. Wizardru, can we level on the fly or no?


*Notes for next time:*

We should probably expect more troglodytes. Can’t think of much else.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

There was one hallway left to explore. We assumed we would find the remaining orcs and their leader nearby somewhere. Little did we know….

The hallway split to the left and right, slightly askew. One branch led to a short set of stairs up to an iron door with a human skull affixed to the front with a spike. Down the other branch was a carved statue of a dwarf and another door. Rasha began wrinkling his nose – he smelled some other animal but wasn’t sure what. No doubt the smell of orc everywhere was masking the scent. As Valanthe scouted the area she quickly discovered and disabled a gas trap near the door with the statue. While she was working, Rasha finally caught the scent – wolves.

Valanthe heard orcs behind the door with the statue. Valanthe secreted herself in the shadows of the statue while Jozan kicked in the door. Inside were six orcs, and one more, slightly larger. Remarkably the orcs did not charge but instead established a shield wall in front of the larger orc. A quick glance showed this orc to be a grizzled veteran and strong commander – orcs do not take to tactical thinking quickly or well.

The orcs stood their ground and began chanting all the while beating their swords on their shields. “Ulf Ulf Ulf” over and over. We advanced into the room cautiously and began using bows to take out the orcs. Rackhir felled two orcs when the door at the top of the stairs burst open.

“Who dares to challenge the great Ulf?!?” 

His huge voice rang out across the hall, made larger by the fact that he was facing our lightly guarded rear, and mage larger still by his towering size. The great Ulf was an ogre – the leader of this tribe the prisoners had warned us of. He set forth his hounds upon us and joined the fray.

I should note at this point we were all relieved to discover that his hounds were in fact wolves. We later all viewed it as something of a status symbol that we have come so far that our enemies no longer train rats to serve as their hunting dogs but in fact can have true wolves.

With this bit of relief, the rear ranks of the group quickly tried to withdraw into the room, while those of us there did our best to make quick work of the orcs. Jozan approached the line and landed a blow that went straight through one orc and into the next. I killed yet another. Quickly the entire orcish line was reduced to nothing but Old Yarrick, the veteran in command, locked in combat with Jozan. 

The wolves rushed into the room and began attacking. One stayed in the hall and knocked Scorch to the ground. He was however saved…by Meepo. Yes Meepo has clearly been watching Jozan too much, and leapt to the attack, digging his short sword into the wolf’s hindquarters, allowing Scorch to slip away.

Ulf covered the hallway to our room in a few great steps. Valanthe managed to make some quick attacks against the wolves as they went by but waited for Ulf. Rackhir stood his ground to guard the rest of the group that was withdrawing into the room, planting an arrow into Ulf.

Yarrick landed a solid blow on Jozan, tearing his hauberk open. But this orc was on my short list, and I took careful aim and placed an arrow squarely in his back, and he fell. This left us free to deal with the wolves and Ulf. Jozan turned on the wolf menacing him, while Valanthe struck at Ulf, leaping out from the shadows and drove her blade deep. Rackhir planted arrows in his chest, bravely holding his ground against Ulf. I was taking shots from across the room where I’d moved to allow my fellows access.

The great Ulf was fortunately not as great as he would have had us believe, and even this massive beast could not hold up against the flurry of attacks set against him. Rackhir hit Ulf with another arrow and Ulf tottered and finally fell nearly crushing Rackhir under his massive corpse.

Dravot was closest to one of the remaining wolves and smashed it into unconsciousness. The last wolf in the hallway with Meepo concluded it was in danger, and fled the area as fast as it could.

After making sure that none of the orcs would ever rise again, we took quick stock of the situation. There were two chests in Ulf’s room yielding an enchanted rapier, some potions and a large array of coinage. The orc barracks also yielded some minor finds. 

Based on the numbers the hostages had given us, we were fairly sure we had broken the orcs hold on the fortress. We did not think there were any other orcs in the fortress and only the two hunting parties that remained at large. We discussed our options – clearly our hostages would need to be escorted back to Blasingdel. I personally would have liked to remain and ambush the remaining orcs – it would mean ten less orcs in the world and I would take great joy in that. However given that we knew nothing of their sentry schedule or other precautions this could be difficult. Instead we chose to leave the orcs a message – leave or die. We did this by placing the heads of Ulf and Yarrick on stakes outside the fortress. The message was one the orcs would clearly understand.

Once ready, we escorted Geradil and Courana back to Blasingdel. We took with us the coin we had recovered as well as the weapons and armor but left the other supplies behind. Their family was grateful for their return and rewarded us with four potions to cure wounds – always a welcome addition to one’s supplies. We asked the mayor to hold our findings for us while we continued our explorations and he was happy to do so. We also told him of the foodstuffs and other goods the orcs had stolen, and he would arrange their recovery once we informed him that it was safe to enter the Forge. 

After resting a day in Blasingdel, we returned to the Glitterhame. It was obvious that in the week since we left, the orcs had returned, and had grabbed a few items and left for good. We felt sure that Blasingdel had seen the last of them. We then continued our explorations and headed for the carved stone staircase that was in the passage behind the piled up supplies.

It does not take a great thinker to realize that the orcs had blocked off the passage for a reason. And that whatever was in this area, it was of sufficient threat to worry the orcs, but it was not intelligent enough to be able to remove the crates that the orcs wedged into the passage. It did also not require much thought to realize we would find out soon enough. With a great clang, Jozan broke the gate free from the rust holding it in place. Valanthe shuddered visibly at this amount of noise or perhaps just lack of finesse. In any event we entered the grand stairway, wary that the skeletons we saw would soon rise up from the floor. 

But they didn’t. The threat in this hall came on leathery wings, flapping from down the stairs. Four stirges fell upon us. These bloodsuckers are not uncommon in such caves and their bloodlust drove them to us. One managed to latch on to Jozan but he promptly smashed it. We killed the rest before they could endanger any of the rest of us. Jozan felt slightly weak from the blood loss but insisted he was fine to continue. 

Two doors sat on opposite sides of the great staircase. One was carved in a great relief of a dwarven face covering the wall. The other was more unassuming. Valanthe found the simple door was locked with the key still in the lock on the far side. It was a simple enough matter to dislodge it and retrieve the key, and we entered. Inside we found the orc shaman’s quarters – recently abandoned of course. We were not sure if the shaman was here when we were here last or was out with the raiding parties. But he had packed up his things and left little behind save a variety of skulls suspended from the ceiling on strings.

The other door proved more interesting. Valanthe examined it carefully and determined it was trapped – small channels surrounded the door ready to shoot something out at the unsuspecting. Valanthe then set to disarming the trap. I was under the impression that usually one wishes to disarm a trap without setting it off however Valanthe must have had some deeper knowledge that eluded me. In her attempts she accidentally set off the trap and was sprayed in alchemist’s fire. There was a tense moment as we extinguished the flames. She had some minor burns afterward but I think suffered the most damage to her pride. The door was in fact not a door at all but simply the trap in itself, and led nowhere. 

We wound our way down the great staircase into the darkness. A natural stream of flowing water crossed the stairway, apparently having eaten its way through the rock. We descended into a natural cave area that reeked of a foul odor. (Even stronger than orc.)

The cave led to another cave with several exits. One passage had large tree branches forming a cage of sorts across its mouth. In the cave Valanthe could make out two lizard like beasts hiding. Once it was clear we knew of them, one ran to the cage and yelled at something inside. Out came a large bear which promptly attacked Valanthe. I shot some arrows in it hoping to change its mind but it seemed determined. Dravot realized they might be troglodytes and asked Meepo if he knew anything about them. Meepo warned us that they are foul smelling beasts and that the stench can easily overcome you. Jozan grabbed the torch from Meepo and faced down the bear. Once he had cowed the bear back, he through it a hunk of meat, which the bear proceeded to warily eat. The rest of us turned on the troglodytes and wasted little time killing them. Once the troglodytes were dead, the bear took his meat and began ambling up one of the tunnels. It had the scent of fresh air and likely led to the outside. The bear had probably been held by the troglodytes for some time and it was anxious for escape.

Given two troglodytes, there were surely more nearby.


----------



## Zad

*The Forge of Fury - Chapter 4*

*The Forge of Fury - Chapter 4*

*OOC Notes: *

Experience this session: a whopping 2500. Hit points and attack bonuses are effective immediately, but other special abilities may have to wait for a trip to town. Ask Wizardru for individual specifics.


*Notes for Next Time:*

Next time is Saturday, Feb. 10 – this will be a daytime game. Exact start time TBD.

Given the train we pulled from the second level, I’m guessing most of it is empty now. The trogs may or may not be completely wiped out (except for the two that escaped). A key question is whether or not they have any more they can throw at us. Given that we have killed the chief and the big lizzy, I’m inclined to think they threw all they had at us and that any survivors will slither away but that’s just a guess. I am fairly sure we could use another day’s rest after that encounter. If we think there’s nothing left of the trogs, we could do a town run safely. However if the remaining trogs leave, they might take some of the booty with them. 

As far as the trog fight, wow. Great job.


*This week’s Adventure:*

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to smell a flower again.

The stench. The unbelievable stench. It’s soaked into everything. I think I have to burn my clothes. Hopefully not my armor as well. Rasha is less than pleased.

But I’m jumping ahead. Let me back up. After the two troglodytes we killed, took some precautions. Scorch used some of the perfumes I had bought on the last visit to town and fashioned some crude masks to protect us from the troglodyte stench. We then explored the caverns further. There were several branches but they met back up, and we only found three notable areas. I’m writing them down slightly out of order simply for my convenience.

The first was a small cave. In it was a clearly visible skeleton, probably dwarven. It was overgrown with some kind of mold and most of the cave was covered in this brown carpet. A sword was however clearly visible near the body and still gleaming. Farther back, another skeleton lay, but it was so covered in growths as to be almost invisible. Valanthe seemed quite taken with the sword, and with whatever other goods might be here. I myself was cautious – I had heard many tales of deadly molds and fungus. If the troglodytes had not disturbed the area to get the sword, there was clearly some type of hazard here. Jozan was convinced that it was Yellow Mold and was indeed deadly – easily capable of killing a man within minutes. We initially left the area alone and planned to return. But later circumstances gave us some time to deal with it. We burned off the mold, which lit quite readily, and after the smoke cleared, investigated. We found a bastard sword, surely magical and bearing Durgeddin’s mark, as Lord Gelban had shown us. Valanthe also recovered a fine helm, and a set of scale mail. Rackhir is holding the blade until we can return with it.

The second area was a dwarven sepulcher. There were several empty carved stone coffins, and three that were occupied. Bargul the old (died of old age), Garin Orcdoom (died in battle) and Numik the unlucky (died in the foundry in an accident with molten iron) were all entombed here, along with the usual warnings of evil befalling whomever should disturb them. Not one member of the group even considered opening the caskets.

However when he entered this room, Dravot had some kind of vision. He stood unmoving for a few minutes, and Jozan felt an evil force drawing Dravot out. He managed to protect him from this force, and Dravot then fell to the floor, incoherent. After a few minutes he regained his senses somewhat, and said he had a vision, seeing the family crypt and an evil presence that was drawing him inside.

Dravot needed some time to rest and pray and surely to recover his wits. So some of us went to deal with the fungus in the cave I mentioned above. 

The third area we found was the entrance to the Glitterhame itself. A gigantic cavern opened up before us – a patch wound down to a banded iron door, while another stairway led upwards to some other location. Several ledges overlooked the cavern. Wary of an ambush, Valanthe scouted the area out. Unfortunately she found exactly that. Two creatures waited for us in the darkness. They had the body of a serpent but had four tentacles and a beak-like mouth, like some kind of misshapen squid taken to the land. Later, Scorch told me he thinks they were Grick, a creature he had read about in some text. Once discovered, they quickly charged at Valanthe.

She scrambled back towards us. I drew and fired, only to have my arrow bounce off its rubbery hide. It was a sound shot so there was surely something odd about these beasts. Other weapons were equally unable to affect them. However Jozan was able to slice up the side of one with Shatterspike. We all quickly switched to whatever magical weapons we had. Scorch conjured a flaming sphere but the agile creatures kept squirming around it. While we mobbed one grick, the other attacked and seriously wounded Dravot. Dravot managed to hold off the other in a fighting retreat. His attempt to Fear the grick failed. He then cast Doom, a form of curse from his god, and this let him hold it off. After the first one died we turned on the second, and it finally was unable to avoid the sphere of flame and died in fire.

After that, we decided that now would probably be a good time to rest before pushing further into the Glitterhame. I had expected to encounter more troglodytes before entering the fortress proper but they were surely somewhere. And we were tired and hurt. So we withdrew to the top of the great stairway to rest. Scorch cast an alarm spell on the stairway and we ate, healed and slept. Dravot had a fitful night and seemed wracked by nightmares but finally quieted down.

And then the alarm went off. A small bell ringing woke the humans. And we could barely make out the hurried retreat of what sounded like a single set of padded feet. The lingering smell of course left no doubt as to the species of the visitor. 

We still needed to rest and this was the best place we could find, therefore the humans went back to sleep. In hindsight perhaps we should have moved. An hour later, Scorch sat bolt upright from a sound sleep. He said loudly “The alarm has been counterspelled!” And we braced for an assault. For a while, nothing happened. Then a large troglodyte appeared out of nowhere and stabbed Jozan with a spear. As quickly as he had appeared, he was gone. At the same time, another troglodyte appeared and struck at Dravot, however this one remained visible afterward. Immediately after, troglodytes began coming up the stairs. 

We all began searching for some sign of the invisible attacker. Jozan moved towards the stairway, cleanly beheading the first troglodyte. He could hear the sound of a whip being cracked – the troglodytes were perhaps more scared of what was behind them than us. Scorch conjured an acid arrow and struck the troglodyte attacking Dravot, causing quite a bit of damage. 

The invisible troglodyte then threw a small spell that dazed Scorch. Valanthe waited for an opportunity to find the hidden troglodyte while Dravot threw a spell causing a blast of sound in the stairwell, stunning most of the troglodytes. Rackhir shot at the stunned troglodytes, killing two quickly.

The invisible troglodyte then tried to throw another spell we were quite familiar with – sleep. As the spell started, the beast appeared. I was scanning for him and shot however in my haste, my shot went wide. The spell completed and I felt it wash over me, and simply smiled, knowing it would have no effect. Rackhir was not so fortunate and fell asleep mere feet from the beast. 

At the stairs, Jozan threw some oil into the stairway while Scorch, his wits now recovered, conjured a flaming sphere and sent it down the stairway also.

The creature stayed visible – apparently that spell had run its course. Dravot Doomed the beast. Fearful that he would step up and kill the sleeping Rackhir, Valanthe put herself between Rackhir and the large troglodyte. 

Dravot cast again, this time paralyzing the troglodyte chief in his tracks right in front of me. Meanwhile more troglodytes charge up the stairs, following by a huge lizard, being driven by troglodytes behind it with whips.

I patiently drew an arrow and stared coldly at the helpless beast in front of me. It had started this fight intending to kill us as we slept helplessly, and I enjoyed the irony. I drew and fired – at this distance I could scarcely miss – and my arrow plunged into his eye and he died instantly. The paralysis still held him upright as a grim warning for his fellow beasts. Valanthe woke Rackhir who quickly gained his feet.

The advancing troglodytes turned on Dravot, surrounding him. I turned and fired, killing two of them. Rackhir shot at the large lizard advancing on us. Meepo chose to enter the fray and came to Dravot’s aid, but alas the Savage Sword of Meepo™ found nothing but air. 

The lizard turned on Jozan, scooping him up in his massive jaws. Valanthe, for reasons I must admit elude me, chose to jump on top of the thrashing lizard and attack. Given that the creature could surely not turn its ravenous jaws to that area, perhaps this was a wise move. The two remaining troglodytes – the ones driving the lizard from behind – decided the situation was not to their liking and began running. This left us with only the massive lizard to deal with and we all began attacking furiously. Dravot, seeing Jozan’s life nearing an end, crossed the stairwell and managed to lay his healing touch on him, helping him survive while we tried to kill the lizard.

It was very badly injured, and having some prey in its mouth, decided to run. It scuttled down the stairs at amazing speeds, Jozan bobbing in its mouth and Valanthe attempting to remain on its back. Jozan managed to bring his sword around for a blow and the creature could stand no more. It bled from the wound and lost consciousness. Unfortunately it was heading towards a bend in the stairway and a fifty foot drop, and such a beast does not stop quickly. When we managed to run down the stairs, we saw the burst remains of the lizard at the bottom of the cliff, but no sign of Valanthe and Jozan. Then they stepped from the shadows on the stairway, shaken but intact. Apparently Valanthe had managed to grab Jozan and jump clear before the lizard went over the edge. A quick look showed that there was no sign of the two escaped troglodytes.


*Excerpt From Dravot’s Personal Journal:*

We have returned to the grand entrance to the Glitterhame to rest for the night. We are reasonably certain that the orc areas will not be a threat, and Scorch has assured us that his alarm spell will alert us to any treachery from below. My arm still hurts, and this bruise on my arm alarms me to no end. I do not recognize it, though it is obviously a holy symbol. Hopefully some research in town can help determine what it is.

Today was...well, one would hesitate to call it interesting. Terrifying is much more like it. In the troglodyte caves, we found a room, sepulcheral in intent. There were many sarcophagi here, but only a couple were in use. It was a peaceful room and, as near as I could tell, there was no undead influence in the area.

I must do some research into the nature of such a place. It seems to me now, that it is strongly tied in with that of the dead. I do not know whether this is a supernatural phenomenon or geological/geographical, or merely due to the age and intent of the room.

Today was probably the most terrifying day of my life. Not even the day when I knew that my brother Roget wasn't coming back compares to today, although the feeling was incredibly similar.

We entered this room with the intent of searching it for clues or signs of Durgeddin, as well as a passage to other areas within the Glitterhame. We hadn't gone far into the room when I began to feel dazed and lightheaded. I looked to someone nearby for support, as I wasn't sure that I could stand on my own.

The next thing I knew, the floor seemed to tilt down, and I was sliding down it, away from the party, into a corridor. I was flying through the Glitterhame at unreal speeds, constantly afraid of hitting a wall, suddenly turning at the last possible second, always going faster. I do not know how long this journey lasted; possibly seconds, but it felt like hours.

In the distance, I saw a wall with a heavy iron door in it. It was leagues away, yet I knew that it was my destination. The question was: would I stop before it, or be dashed against it? I thought of Pelor, asking for strength. Miraculously, I came to a complete stop in front of the door.

I looked at the door, and it took me a moment to recognize it; not because I didn't know it, but that I couldn't believe that I would be here, many thousands of leagues from the Glitterhame and my companions. I stood before the door to one of the tombs in our family mausoleums, on our estate. The family crest was on the door. I had been here a couple of times as I grew up. The last time was when Roget's body was brought back from the mountains.

The door was...different though. It took me a moment to realize why. The door had been...slagged? shut, molten metal poured in the lock and left to cool, sealing it. I have been away from Greyhawk for 3 or 4 weeks now, and I haven't heard from my family in the week before we left for the Glitterhame, so I do not know if this was merely a vision, or if this is what the door looks like right now. I know from what my companions stated, that my body never left the room, I was with them the entire time, yet the sensation was so...real. I need to seek out guidance from Govannen when I get back to Greyhawk and find out. I believe that this was some sort of astral or ethereal journey. It may be pure speculation, but the alternative is that I am going mad.

I reached out to the door, touching it, to determine how real the vision was. It was cold, very cold. Too cold to be natural. At that point, I heard a voice, calling my name, faint, as on the wind.

"Dravot"

I looked around, all around, but I couldn't identify where the voice was coming from. It seemed more like it was in my head. This is not a comforting realization.

I touched the door again, this time feeling drawn in by something cold and evil. It was as if I had cast Detect Evil, although I did not pray to Pelor for that spell this day, yet the effect was the same. It was unmistakable. Alarmed, I attempted to channel positive energy into this...link that was developing, trying to break free. I was partially successful, managing to distance myself spiritually from it. Pelor's will is strong within me, but this entity was very close and very powerful.

It's grip didn't completely let go, and it went another route. It told me things. Odd things, which I do not understand, but I will someday.

"Your brothers wouldn't listen..." "Your father will pay..." "My time will come..."

I think about these things the rest of the day, but I do not know of anything in my family that would fit anything that was said. The words are engraved on my mind though. I doubt I could forget them without magical intervention, and even then I am skeptical.

I fear that at this point I was about to break down. I wasn't sure whether to drop to my knees and pray to Pelor for guidance, or to channel more energy. It seemed futile to do either, and I found that I was doubting myself.

At that moment, I felt a hand on my shoulder, warm and friendly and alive. I knew that I was alone in the tomb, yet this did not alarm me, and I knew that it's intent was good and had my welfare in mind. I began to fly backward through the halls, through the Glitterhame, as if the hand had grabbed me and yanked me back to my body and the mortal coil. I found myself back amongst my friends once more. Jozan later told me that he had sensed evil radiating from within me, holding me, and he protected me from it's influence. He might have saved my life, or at least my sanity.

The party was polite enough to let me pray to Pelor for a bit, and re-center myself. After that I was able to speak with them. I told them only a little of what happened, as I doubt that they'd believe the entire story anyway. If this *is* real at any level, it involves my family; of that I am certain to my bones. One thing that my father taught me long ago, is that family matters stay in family when possible. I trust my friends, but I am of House d'Chandagnac, and that trust is more sacred to me.

I told the party of being in front of the crypt, at my family estates, and of hearing my name, but that's all. They seem to believe me. I am conflicted, since I feel that lying by omission is almost the same as lying, but until I understand what it is, and *whether* family honor would allow me to talk about it, it is my burden alone.

Whatever happened, it was real enough to leave this bruise on my arm, which still throbs.

I want to go back to town as soon as possible and send a letter to my sister to find out if everything is alright.

And later

Last night, before the troglodyte attack, I was visited with horrible dreams. 

I saw a mummified hand. Then I saw a prison cell, featuring prisoners, three dozen or so, in fine garb, of befitting nobility. Guards entered the cell and began slaughtering the prisoners. 

One man attempted to protect himself by declaring his loyalty, only to be killed anyway. "That is why you must die." the guard said, plunging a sword into the man's stomach. 

The guards looked familiar to me, or rather their uniforms did. They were dressed as the Emperor's Elite, yet the uniform was vaguely different, not as I know their uniform, but rather of an older style. 

I awoke in a cold sweat. I am beginning to doubt my sanity.


----------



## Zad

*The Forge of Fury - Chapter 5*

*The Forge of Fury - Chapter 5*

*OOC Notes: *

Experience this week is a whopping 4,391. My head is still reeling from that fight. 250 point bonus for Valanthe for saving Dravot with the rope (shouldn’t that come out of Dravot’s exp?) and 100 point bonus for Scorch for sighting and killing the hawk.


*Notes For Next Time:*

We’ll need to eliminate the duergar quietly and quickly in small groups and we should be in good shape.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

We looked around quickly, unsure what the two escaped troglodytes might return with. Our dead attackers had very little on them, so we quickly went down the stairs. Upon reaching the stream we had the hunch they chose to swim away. None of us wanted to risk the water however, so we went around to the main cavern of the Glitterhame and up the large stairs we had seen. 

At the top of the stairs was a long cavern, with another portion of the stream rushing through it. The water was quite active and the spray coated the rock with slick water. At one end the water ran into a large sinkhole and a narrow stairway wound its way downward near the hole. To the other side, the water seemed to be rushing over a small crude dam. Climbing the dam, I nearly fell on the slick rocks into the rushing water but was able to keep my feet. Unfortunately Dravot and Rackhir were not so quick, and went plunging into the water. Rackhir grabbed a large rock, but Dravot was propelled downstream quickly towards the sinkhole. While we all stood watching him helplessly borne away by the current, Valanthe fashioned a loop on a rope, and managed to catch Dravot’s flailing arm in it. The sudden pull nearly dislocated his arm, and Valanthe immediately fell on the wet rock but Jozan grabbed her belt and we slowly hauled Dravot out of the stream. Jozan threw Dravot bodily to the top of the dam to prevent any further mishaps. I tried to hide a smile but I fear I failed. 

Some fifteen minutes had passed with all this and we began to worry about where our remaining attackers had gone. In this next smaller cavern, there was a cave off to one side. Inside was another large lizard like the one that had attacked us. It was chained to the wall and some ten feet from its reach were two treasure chests. It seemed odd that the beast would be set to guard chests that were out of its reach – then we remembered the huge, sticky tongue. Anyone approaching the chests would surely find himself the victim of that tongue and the lizard’s jaws straight afterward. 

Jozan looked at the lizard closely and considered that the last one only attacked when driven by a whip. He decided to risk trying to calm the massive beast enough to let Valanthe free it from its shackles. He was convinced that given the chance, it would flee rather than attack us. Valanthe worked the lock quickly, and Jozan proved correct – the beast slinked quickly past us and into the water, disappearing into the sinkhole.

We took only a brief moment to examine the chests – our two troglodytes worrying us more. The next cavern up the river was another huge cave with the stream running more slowly through it. From the debris around, it seemed to be a large common area for the troglodytes. On one side was a bulwark and I could see in the darkness shapes behind it, watching us. After a time Jozan and I could make out more caves behind the defense and there were troglodytes manning the barrier, probably adolescents. They seemed to have no intention to attack but were clearly quite concerned by our presence.

We had a discussion about our next course of action. Valanthe favored opening a discussion but I was not sure what she wanted to accomplish. To my mind it broke down very simply – we could either leave and ignore them, or we could kill them all. I had misgivings about mass destruction of these beasts – I lack Jozan’s clear sense of good and evil, and even though he was sure they were evil, I had difficulty imagining putting man woman and child to the sword. On the other hand, I recalled the Hateful Wars, and were these orcs instead of troglodytes, my mind would have been much clearer on the issue.

Before we could come to a consensus, the troglodytes took action. After hearing a few noises, two troglodytes appeared carrying a small chest. They heaved it over the bulwark and shouted in crude common “This chief’s things. You take. You go.” They may have understood our discussion enough to know we were looking for something here, or perhaps it was a simple attempt to bribe us. In either case we felt they were no threat to us, and we retrieved the chest and withdrew. Unfortunately the chest held no more of Durgeddin’s works but between this one and the ones near the lizard, there was a substantial cache of silver pieces. 

I’m also becoming increasingly mistrustful of Valanthe. I am quite sure I saw her attempting to filch a small gem from one of the chests before we all became aware of it. I realize that her talents come in very useful but to steal from your comrades is quite a betrayal, and I’m sure that Jozan or Dravot would look no more favorably on it than I do. If I become convinced she is stealing from the group, I’ll certainly have to talk to Lord Gelban and, regardless of his position, I could not trust her enough to go on another mission with her. I’d like to believe in the honesty of all my fellows and that we work for the same goal, but she is starting to test this view.

Given the number of silver pieces now in our possession, we withdrew to Blasingdel. Dravot was very agitated ever since his episode and wanted to return to town. Scorch also seemed anxious to return, having had some kind of brilliant idea he needed to develop. We had a quiet few days back to town and were once again welcomed. The Mayor was interested in the reports of the troglodytes but said that whatever the beasts had been up to, they had not attacked the townsfolk thus far. We again left our recovered gains in town and set of back to the mission we had come for. Our goal was to explore beyond the large iron door that we had seen earlier, and Valanthe took some time to research dwarven locks to be better prepared to open it. Of course, Scorch had a spell that would open any locked door, but Valanthe seemed to view it as a professional challenge.

On our way back to the Glitterhame, we came across a large area of forest that had been decimated. Trees and vegetation were uprooted and removed. There were faint traces of blood on the ground in some areas, immediately raising thoughts of Guthias-spawned nightmares. While we examined the area, the skies grew visibly darker, a storm brewing at unnatural speeds, and Jozan had the smell of evil in the air. We could not determine what had happened but it was clearly for no good purpose. 

The purpose then became abundantly clear. The piles of branches and debris suddenly moved and struck, twisting our feet in their embrace. This was answered by the war cries of orcs to the east - a line of orcish archers appeared on a small rise some hundred feet away. And Jozan felt an evil presence to the west.

It was a carefully laid trap. And we were squarely inside it.

We did our best to recover our wits and gain control of the situation. We all tried desperately to free ourselves from the embrace of these plants – just stepping near one was a sure way to become entangled in its vines. I believe they were the twig horrors we heard tell of. 

Scorch managed to avoid the grasping roots, and stepped clear of the twig horrors. He then looked at the orcs on the ridge and started shouting at them and laughing. He then threw a spell – surely what he had worked on in town. 

I have seen a fireball before. But there is something more beautiful about it when you so desperately need it. The spell detonated in the midst of the orcs and they took the full force of it. Unfortunate that it did not kill them outright but it did injure them all severely, and surely demoralized them. 

The battle was a tense one. Dravot made a prayer to Pelor and tried to keep himself free of the vines. Jozan seemed convinced that the orcs were there to drive us towards the waiting presence in the woods. The twig horrors showed their limitations when I had a stroke of luck – two of them tried to strike at me, and succeeded in twisting their vines within each other, allowing me to step free. They were clearly very clumsy and moved very slowly. I had little I could do against the horrors, but the orcs were another matter. Even at a hundred feet they were an easy shot, and I began to eliminate that threat. None too soon, since after the fireball, Scorch became the favored target of the orcs. Even though an orc cannot put a shaft into a stout oak at that range, some of them were bound to get lucky, and indeed he took two arrows before I could draw some of the fire away from him.

Jozan had cast Protection from Evil and limited the twig’s ability to engage him. He was now detecting the presence of something good, that was aiding us to the west. Breaking through the tree line came a large wolf – I’ve never seen one this big – it was the size of a pony. It had a crescent moon under one eye, and Jozan said he was an ally. I had no idea what was happening, but I had more than enough enemies to consider at that point and wasn’t stopping to think about allies.

And I had other worries. The storm that had been brewing attacked and a bolt of lightning struck me square in the chest. The pain was intense – my clothes burned and my chest ached and my muscles would barely move. It was all I could do to avoid collapsing. Scorch looked up and saw a hawk circling above – the Druid must have been using it to direct his lightning. Scorch seemed quite peeved at this, and fired a volley of magic missiles, and only parts of the bird made it back to the ground. 

I hope that hurt the Druid as much as he had hurt me, but I doubt that was possible.

Dravot ran towards the orcs – once close enough used a sonic burst to stun them, and it was enough to kill a few of the already injured orcs. Meanwhile Jozan and Rackhir managed to kill one of the horrors. Scorch had conjured another flaming sphere and was rolling it into the twigs.

I was hurt, and angry. Lacking the target I truly wanted, I turned my wrath on the orcs, and with speed I’ve only seen in an Elven Champion, I put one arrow in each in the last three orcs, ending that threat.

Then a bolt of green lightning struck one of the twig horrors, and it began to grow. It wasn’t long before it was spreading out across the ground, twenty, thirty feet and growing each passing second.

The twig horrors move very slowly, but unfortunately Meepo had strayed into their reach. One shot a barbed vine towards him and left a gaping wound on his chest, and Meepo slowly dying on the ground.

Mindful that any further injury might well spell the end of my life, and with the orcs dead, I used one of the carefully guarded healing potions to remove some of my injuries. I felt somewhat better but far from good.

We were now free to turn our attention on to the blights. Jozan used his healing touch on Meepo and the spirited thing rejoined the fight. He had been preparing oil and rags to use on the horrors, and stood ready to provide me with flaming arrows, which I began dispensing on the horrors. Valanthe and Dravot teamed up to take one while Jozan, Rackhir and the wolf attacked others.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a glowing light – when I turned I saw Scorch holding out his hand, and a glowing white symbol of an eye appeared in the air in front of his forehead (similar to the symbol of the White Brotherhood). 
His words rang out again and he dispensed another fireball onto several of the twigs, including the growing mass of vegetation. The fire hurt them all badly and did significant damage to the growing horror. 

The tide seemed to be turning in our favor as we were able to rid ourselves of more and more twig horrors. The large one took some kind of action and seemed to be exerting its will to reshape itself somehow, it’s vegetation spreading out into distinct tendrils on the ground.

A thought crossed my mind – with the hawk dead, how did the Druid cause the horror to grow? I looked carefully and saw two wolves that seemed to be swimming through the ground, on either side of the large twig horror. I debated shooting them but very little of their mass was above the ground.

It hit several of us at the same time – the twig horror was trying to reshape itself into a large unholy symbol of Therizdun. Stopping it became the main goal, and Rackhir and Jozan hacked madly at a forming tentacle. Scorch directed his flaming sphere and burned up the remaining central structure of the horror. Finally Jozan called upon the force of his god and severed a tentacle clean through. The horror shuddered – it was barely holding itself together and this was too much for it. It collapsed to the ground, now a harmless pile of plant matter.

The wolves in the ground disappeared, and the evil presence to the west withdrew. While we could not truly call this a victory, it was also far from a defeat. We had survived another ambush, although only barely. We did not linger on the field, fearful of what might come after us next, but returned instead to Blasingdel to recover.

Jozan explained that the large wolf, named Crescent, was his steed. He had, it seemed, been expecting such a thing. Apparently it’s not unusual for paladins of his Goddess but it amazes me just the same. Each day the world seems to become more wondrous, and more terrifying.

We spent several days resting – the twig horrors had some foul sap that weakened several of our members. Dravot was able to accelerate the recovery process with his healing fortunately. We repaired our armor and our bodies, but I know that my soul was not the only one suffering after this attack. We were clearly targeted – this was no unlucky encounter in the woods. Was the Druid seeking revenge after our last encounter with his forces? Did he know that it was we who had destroyed the Gulthias Prime? Or were we just in his way? And will he try again? The answer to that seems certain – we will have to take the fight to him as soon as we have the opportunity. We cannot allow such a careful ambush to be set for us again.

While we were away, Aran’gel had been in Blasingdel. We were told by the Mayor Aran’gel was taking a force of fifty men to the west to deal with some orcs nearing Highfolk. Given the skill of his men, it is likely he expects to face one hundred fifty orcs or more. Indeed fifty men leaves very few behind to guard the countryside, so it must be a severe threat for him to take this action. I debated methods of getting a message to him or his hawk, but the Mayor said that it was some five days march west, and I don’t think it would have reached him.

I also learned of Aran’gel’s visit from Vallon, the halfling bartender at the inn we were staying at. I was enjoying a quiet drink at the bar, trying to forget about the smell of burning flesh that was still nagging at me. 

“Aran’gel was looking for you.” He said it as though his meaning was obvious, which it wasn’t.

I thanked him and told him the Mayor had already told us that Aran’gel was inquiring about us. 

He corrected me, saying “No, las. I said he was looking for you,” pointing at me for unnecessary emphasis. 

The Elven Champions had always seemed a little larger than life at home. Having met Aran’gel, I did have tremendous respect for him, but no sense of awe, nor did he act like it was his due. I was unsure what to make of this hafling, so I simply took another sip of my wine, feeling sure that he could not keep himself from going on. I was not disappointed. 

He proceeded to tell me that it was in this very room that Aran’gel sat, and had discussions with the Mayor and others, and even this humble bartender. Asked if we’d arrived safely, if we’d found the Stone Tooth, what we’d found there. And asked a particular number of questions about me. If I seemed well, what I had said, my mood, and so on. He was sure that Aran’gel’s interest in me was “more than just professional.”

I was sure that Vallon was more gossip than bartender.

I simply smiled and continued to enjoy my wine. Vallon, apparently miffed that his juicy tidbits failed to stir more than passing curiosity in me, moved on to have a detailed discussion with another patron about a certain cow and which bull’s calf was being carried.

I considered his words. But elven subtlety is often lost on the non-elven. Even Vallon, living among elves, is likely making much out of little for the sake of having something to gossip over. If Aran’gel had some other interest, I doubt he’d be so obvious, and even if he did it is likely not what this silly hafling is implying.

After we had recovered, we once again set out for the Glitterhame. This time we took a slightly different route and manage to avoid any ambush. We gave the troglodytes a wide berth and made our way down to the iron door we had seen before.

Valanthe was eventually able to open the door, though it took her three tries to do so. She spent the next hour cursing dwarven locks. Once the door was open, we could hear the sound of hammer on anvil ringing in the distance. We exchanged surprised looks - someone was working in the forge below. Beyond it was a chamber with three massive bronze statues. Two of the dwarven statues faced doors and held axes and shields, while a third wielded two axes and faced into the room. It took little time for Valanthe to conclude the doors were false doors. While there was no way to know what would happen if one was to open one, the looming axe hanging above the door from the statue made some clear implications. We easily found a secret door leading out of the room and it led to a staircase. As we ascended the staircase, a magic mouth proclaimed “Alert! Intruders!” Once it was activated we could not reverse the alarm, so we continued on. At the top of the stairs was another door. Beyond this door was a large chamber containing many pillars, a throne on a small dais, and lurking in the shadows, three duergar.

Two males and a female began shooting at us with crossbows. We deployed into the room quickly. Dravot cast Bless, while Scorch cast Haste on Jozan. With this speed he quickly closed on and killed the female. One male fell to Valanthe. The last male attempted to escape only to be shot in the back before he could leave the room. 

There were pallets and personal effects in the room. It was difficult to tell how long the duergar had been here but it did not seem to have been for very long. We could still hear the ringing of the hammer.

We moved quietly towards the door the last duergar ran to. Beyond was a small room with another dark dwarf. Valanthe sneaked up on the inattentive guard and killed him before he could make a sound.


----------



## Zad

*The Forge of Fury - Chapter 6*

*The Forge of Fury - Chapter 6*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience this session was 825

Wizardru indicated that we will not have a long stretch of downtime between the end of the forge and the next adventure. Plan accordingly.


*Notes For Next Time:*

Obviously the issue on everyone’s mind is the dragon. This is currently under discussion seperately.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

We braced ourselves for whatever lay beyond the door this duregar was guarding. Valanthe opened the door and slipped in to find a single female duregar, asleep on a simple bed. She slipped up to attack but the dwarf heard her coming. Valanthe made a hasty lunge for her but missed as she rolled away from Valanthe’s sword. I edged into the room and fired landing an arrow into her.

As we moved further in, she did something rather surprising. She tried to bargain. She became invisible and then offered to parley. She saw that she was outmatched and saw no sense in dying.

We struck a deal – she and her remaining people would withdraw to the foundry, and we would leave them alone. We were frank with her, and she was frank in return. She had every reason to lie to us and in fact may have been lying but we all seemed to believe her. We told her what we sought and she indicated that she and her kind had removed all Durgeddin’s works and writings that they could and the group that remained sought to learn from the very stones where he did his work. She also indicated that due to some undead, there were areas to the north that they had not examined, and she mentioned a black dragon that dwelled below.

The deal was struck, and she withdrew. We quickly found the secret door in the closet that she had mentioned. This room was Durgeddin’s chambers and apparently the secret door was his bolthole. The secret passage branched off and to the north led into a common area. 

From one hall we could hear mad ramblings in dwarven with an echoing cry. The source was quick to find us – Dravot later called it an Alip. It was the tortured soul of one of the dwarven warriors, driven mad by some failure. The wailing cry droned in my ears and I felt my mind sinking away, unable to act. I was nearly lost in it, but rather than fight I let it wash over me and past me, and recovered my wits. Rackhir, Jozan, and Valanthe were all lost in the wailing. Fortunately Dravot was unaffected and did what he does with such fervor – drove the unholy beast back with the shining light of Pelor. He destroyed the poor twisted soul and in the last wailings we could hear “Arundel thanks you….”

The area beyond was a series of common rooms and small apartments. Most had little of any interest. We did find the armory tho, and inside one of the training dummies sprang up and attacked us. It was almost comic the way it pranced across the room but it dove at Valanthe and cracked two of her ribs and the humor ended there. Since I didn’t have a weapon I felt would be effective, I simply knocked one of its wooden legs out and tripped it, and we bashed it to splinters. The armory had nothing else of interest, no doubt looted by the orcs when they took the fortress.

Another apartment was fairly spacious and was undisturbed. No broken furniture, no corpses, no bones, just a bit of dust. In the room lie a large rug that went almost from wall to wall. We were all suspicious of this and I quickly verified that the carpet was indeed magical. We proceeded to have a lengthy discussion about how to best destroy the carpet. The nice thing about a carpet is that it doesn’t seem to care if you talk about hacking it to bits right in front of it. I was in favor of burning it while Valanthe felt this could start a large fire that would set the entire room ablaze. As we debated other methods, Valanthe did something I had yet to see her do – she ran out of patience. Usually careful and deliberate, she instead was impulsive. She thought that she would only be in danger if she stepped on the carpet and if she stayed to the edge of the room, she’d be fine.

Unfortunately she was wrong. 

The moment she set foot in the room, the carpet reared up and attacked. [When Rugs Attack! Tonight on Fox!] It grabbed her and tossed around and constricted her, causing those cracked ribs to break. We all quickly moved in and started hacking at the rug. It made a push at one flank, but it was in the end only a rug, and we cut it apart without too much trouble. A search of the room revealed a few treasures but nothing helpful to our mission.

Another room held a half dozen skeletons, which promptly rose up from their splayed positions on the floor with a burning hate of life in their eyes. This was meet by a sense of vague ennui from Valanthe and myself, and we simply stepped back and let Jozan and Dravot smite the unholy menace. They were destroyed so quickly they nearly exploded.

At the end of the hall was a desecrated shrine. As we opened the door, an orcish wight rose from it’s slumped position in front of the altar, with two skeletons the size of ogres on either side. I moved in quickly and fired but soon regretted it. The wight charged me, moving across the room at blinding speed. I felt it’s chilling touch as it clawed at me. Perhaps it was Dravot’s nearby presence but the chill passed quickly and left me none the worse for wear. Dravot then put the fear of Pelor into the wight.

One of the skeletons charged Dravot but struck only shield. Rackhir shattered the other skeleton before it could close in. Jozan stepped behind the wight and with the help of his goddess took the creature’s head off. Dravot then destroyed the other skeleton easily. The room had little else of interest save evidence to indicate a pitched battle. Indeed this place may be the turning point of the battle to take the Glitterhame, with the orc making some kind of unholy sacrifice to win the battle.

Exploring in the other direction we found a library. In the library was a young human woman, fairly attractive. She saw us and stood from her chair and said “Oh hurry, before the wizard returns!” 

One thing that our group shares in common – we’re all a suspicious lot. There was no way this woman was what she appeared. Jozan quickly had Shatterspike in front of him, the blade glowing, and said “Back, hell bitch.” 

A succubus. Some days it’s as if someone was looking at a list of “Things I never want to see” and then arranging me to meet each one. 

This demon scanned over the group and her eyes landed on Scorch. Scorch was very clearly charmed by her and wanted to help. We dragged him from the room and shut the door. She must be some how bound to that room since she did not follow us. Scorch was convinced that she meant us no harm, but even he had to grudgingly yield to the notion that he might have been charmed. We concluded that there was no way for us to slip past her, and turned another direction.

The secret passage also led to a ledge in an open cavern. A chain ladder descended over a hundred feet down. The cavern was huge and the pounding of the forge could be heard off to the west. We were on the far side of the foundry and well hidden from view. A river was rushing through this area, fed by the waterfall further off. A crumbling stone bridge arched over the river and to another ledge. Valanthe and I scouted carefully, wary that we were nearing the black dragon that the duregar had mentioned. 

And that’s exactly what we found. He (he?) was easily larger than a horse, and lay apparently asleep on a small shelf of rock in the middle of the lake. The roar of the river may have concealed our approach, or perhaps the dragon was just watching us before acting. After looking around, Valanthe and I returned to the group and revealed our findings.

We are still discussing the choices. We clearly do not have much to show Lord Gelban for our efforts – we have only one weapon and no writings. Perhaps the duregar lied about removing Durgeddin’s works, but their action seems very logical and I think it true. There is more to explore beyond the succubus but no ready way past her. We are unsure if we could prevail against the dragon. We’ve discussed the strategy at length, but this is no Calcryx, barely out of his egg. This dragon is much older, and could well destroy us. While it surely has some attractive treasures, it may not even have the items we seek. Bargaining with it is out of the question to my mind.

Do we attack, or do we withdraw. Those seem to be our obvious choices, and I don’t much care for either one.


----------



## Zad

*The Forge of Fury - Chapter 7*

*The Forge of Fury - Chapter 7*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience was 900 each. 250 point bonus for Jozan for having Crescent waiting in ambush. (Note the exp figure change from the one we determined after the game.)

Accounting: we have a number on cash. We can liquidate the gems when we get to Dyvers or just keep them as gems for convenience. 

I’m glad we stopped by the duregar on the way out and asked about Durgeddin’s writings 

Dragon damage: According to my figures and guesses, we did 132 damage before she withdrew and healed. Then another 59 before she healed again. Then 154 to end it. Total output: 345. Resources expended – about half our spells, most of our non-healing potions, about half damage or more to most party members. 


*Notes for Next Time:*

We will be heading over land down to Dyvers, crossing the Nyr Dyv on water, and then overland to Ahlissa. Travel time is probably going to be a couple weeks to Dyvers, a week or so across the water and then two or three more weeks to Ahlissa. 


*This Week’s Adventure:*

After a long discussion we decided to kill the dragon. We spent many hours planning, and even more preparing. Dravot and I discussed spell selections for what seemed like an eternity.

We finally arrived at a plan. It would take two days to prepare properly but we all agreed there was no rush. We were concerned about engaging the dragon in an area favorable to us, and about preventing her escape once we were close to killing her. The water of course was also of concern. And the acid breath was something we took precautions against. 

I’m not going to chronicle our full plan. Because it didn’t do us a bit of good.

What we didn’t know, but became abundantly clear, was that Valanthe and I were noticed on our scouting trip. She probably smelled us. So while we were preparing to assault an unaware foe, she was below, preparing more carefully than we were.

We cast several of our preparation spells and consumed potions. A vial with an elixir of cat’s grace had me feeling quite a bit more ready than usual. That feeling would soon vanish.

We descended the chain ladder and proceeded to prepare more spells – the ones with shorter durations. On our way down, we tripped an Alarm spell that she had placed and upon hearing of our arrival, she too began preparing. We were only partially ready to begin when Nightscale rose out of the lake and hissed “Impudent blood ticks! You seek to challenge me?” It was then we began to see the that the tables were turned.

She rose out of the water and landed in front of me. A wave of fear washed over us all, but we were able to focus despite it. She then chose me to bathe in her noxious acid. With the added speed from the potion I was able to avoid the blast but I was still covered as it splashed everywhere near me.

Jozan stepped into the fight and attacked her. A shimmer showed in the air as he swung and we realized that she was well prepared for us – he had a protection from good spell upon her. I pulled back and established my Shield to help prevent further acid baths. Valanthe seemed shaken by the dragon rising before her, but she tried to attack all the same. It was Rackhir who drew first blood, drawing that huge sword of his and managing to hit despite teeth and claw. Dravot invoked the blessings of Pelor and the beast then flew over Jozan and Rackhir to attack Dravot. As she took to the air, Jozan and Rackhir both pounced on her exposed belly. 

I was ready to begin the business of killing this beast and let fly with two solid shots, heading right for her scaly neck. I remember feeling a wrenching in my stomach as the arrows bounced off an invisible barrier – she had the same shield that I had just cast a moment before, and it would make her nearly impossible for me to hit as long as it was facing me.

Jozan then did something and Shatterspike began to glow with an inner fire. (He later told me he felt a tugging as if the blade wanted something – he channeled his holy power into the blade and the glow began.) Shatterspike then bit into the dragon much more readily.

Valanthe attacked again but could not get past the thrashing tail. Scorch wisely concluded there was no point in holding back and threw a lightning bolt at the beast. She was not amused by this, and flew up and landed before him, but whipped her head around to blast Dravot with her acid. He also dodged the main stream but was covered by the splashing ichor. She then let loose her claws and teeth on Scorch and wounded him severely.

We pressed our attack. By “we” I mean Jozan, Rackhir, Valanthe and Scorch. Dravot was supporting as best he could, but I could do nothing but stand by and watch in horror. My bow was useless, my only offensive spell, magic missile, would be rendered ineffective by her shield, and with the other wards I had no chance of a sword strike against her. However despite the enormous disadvantage, we were wearing her down. She dove into the water and headed back towards the lake, and the water took on a foul stench behind her. She moved with amazing speed and we surmised later that she had used a minor spell to increase her movement speed dramatically.

We began to worry, and with good reason. While we did not feel we were winning the fight, we did not want her to escape. Dragons have a taste for revenge and she was not a creature we wanted on our heels for years to come. Fortunately one preparation, the water walking, proved invaluable here, and we were able to run after her.

She came out of the water on to her island treasure hoard and began biting at potions. The wounds we had worked so hard to inflict began to disappear, and another wave of horror crashed on us. I felt as though I’d be sick.

I again considered the idea of a retreat. Unfortunately it was no more viable than it was before – once engaged, we had few places to run, and we did not wish to leave this beast alive to haunt us. So we fought to the bitter end. I rushed the island with the others, and drew my blade, even though I believed it would be futile. I didn’t have the skill to land blade to flesh with this beast but Jozan and Rackhir pressed their attack and continued to wear the beast down.

One potion still lay on the piles of gold at her feet. Fearful she’d heal further, Valanthe rolled past her slashing claw and snatched the vial, and backed off, also grabbing a thin wand. 

At this point we noticed that this dragon was not as powerful as she had seemed – for the spells of her preparation were beginning to fade away. Her protection from good collapsed, and soon after her shield. I suspect that she had several spells on scrolls and used those to prepare. 

Nightscale tried to fortify her defenses and began casting a spell. We all wasted no time in taking advantage of her distraction but only Rackhir was able to land his heavy blade against her. Perhaps Durgeddin also had a dislike of dragons. In any case his blow was enough to break her concentration and stop her spell.

Valanthe ran back to Scorch with the wand. Nightscale let her acid loose on Jozan who simply bore the pain with fierce determination. Knowing that her shield was now down, I stepped back and began firing. I was finally able to put a few shots in to her but even those did not sink in as well as they might. Scorch activated the wand, which fired two magic missiles into the beast. He was apparently displeased its power did not match his own – such the mage that one.

Nightscale was clearly intent feeling harried and had underestimated these “blood ticks”. She took off into the air and high in the cavern beyond our light. Jozan took out one of the lighted coins we had prepared and threw it high into the air, and her dark shape was revealed against the ceiling. I shot two of the lighted arrows we’d prepared and while they did not hurt her as much as they might have, they did sink into her flesh and she was now no longer hidden in the blackness above.

Nightscale would almost certainly escape if she made it back down to the water. Dravot summoned a holy mace and it flew after the beast but with no effect. Rackhir shot but his arrows bounced off the scaly hide.

And then the beast dove into the water and was gone. The exit out of the mountain was completely underwater and we could see the light as she moved out of the cavern. A wide variety of curses and screams were loosed in that cavern, but then Jozan started laughing a laugh so hard I thought he was a halfling. Apparently he had dispatched Crescent to guard the lake exit some time ago, and he was waiting when Nightscale surfaced. She was badly injured and Crescent was able to lunge at her neck and finish her.

Though we had not struck the final blow, we had prevailed, and I suppose that’s the only important thing.

We quickly checked the rest of the cavern for surprises while the water walking spell held – it made working in the cavern much easier. We found nothing of special interest elsewhere, and we then settled in to take stock of what remained.

Scorch set to work on the dragon. Much as he did with Calcryx, he dismembered the body for special ingredients. We also kept the hide that someone might make armor out of it, and the head and horns and teeth. The entire process was disgusting and I was more than happy to aid Valanthe with the inventory of the dragon’s hoard rather than watch that gruesome process.

Nightscale had amassed a significant hoard of treasure. It took an hour just to count the silver, and another half hour to count the gold. She did have a battle axe with Durgeddin’s mark as well as a shield, so we could at least return to Greyhawk with more than a single sword to show for ourselves. The treasure was quite significant and it took us a while to get it all sorted out and moved out of the lair. Dragons are notorious for many things, but “neat” is not one of them it seems.

I took a moment to reflect on the idea of Durgeddin’s writings, still supposedly sent to the duregar home or perhaps were never here. The duregar had not explored the apartments due to the undead, nor the caverns due to the dragon. And we had already wiped out what may have been half their force. So as we withdrew from the Glitterhame for what we hoped would be the last time, I made a stop at the foundry to speak with the duregar. I informed them we were withdrawing from the Glitterhame and that we had little interest in what they did here from this point outward. I told them that the undead that had haunted the chapel and apartments had been vanquished, and that we had slain the black dragon below. This had the effect I had hoped it would, and left them speechless. Even the persistent ringing of hammer on anvil stopped when I said we had slain the black.

I asked them if they were sure they hadn’t come across any of Durgeddin’s writings since we hadn’t found any yet. Since they were “learning from the stone itself” they really wouldn’t need them and they were free to learn from the stone as long as they saw fit, as far as we were concerned.

The lead female appeared shaken but quickly went to a hidden compartment and withdrew a large tome. She handed it to me and hastily added that they had “only just found this” and were happy to let us have it. I thanked them for their cooperation and we left, feeling slightly smug that we’d now completed all the tasks Gelban set for us.

I was glad to leave the damp place – I’ve spent too much time in caverns of late and not enough time in the fresh air.

It took us over four days to get back to Blasingdel, due to the heavy load. And while playing puppet games with the dragon’s head is somewhat amusing, it looses its charm after a few days. We did however take steps to change our return path, in the event of another ambush. I was hoping to stroll into town with the book under my arm, take a leisurely week resting and arranging transport back to Greyhawk. But the gods seem to have taken offense to my use of the term “leisurely” and have vowed to let me never have cause to use it again it seems.

Blasingdel had been attacked. Fields were burned and a few outlying structures. Dead bodies were plentiful – all appeared to be barbarians from the north of the Wolf Clan. I can only assume that the townsfolk had already removed the bodies of their dead.

The townsfolk were still somewhat stunned from the barbarian attack but that did not prevent them from being overwhelmed by the hide of the dragon and the massive load of coin we carried. We consulted the mayor shortly after we arrived to get the formalities out of the way. We informed him of the current state of the Glitterhame. He confirmed that they knew nothing of the dragon. This raises the interesting question of where she was feeding, but it hardly seems important now.

The mayor then briefed us on the recent events in Blasingdel. Aran’gel and his men were in town two days ago, returning from the orc battle, when the barbarians attacked. It is fortunate that his troops were there or the town would surely have been overrun and destroyed. The attack was led by a group of southland mercenaries, led by a mad bowwoman. They were currently fleeing southward and Aran’gel was in pursuit.

The mayor also told us that Lord Gelban’s steward, Nasir, was waiting for us in the tavern with an entire caravan.

It also seems I’m destined to learn more about dragons than I ever cared to. Nasir, as a copper, is apparently somewhat more laid back than Gelban. He had drinks ready for us at the table, and while his physical appearance was very different from when we saw him in Greyhawk, there was no doubt it was him. He had us sit and rest a bit and then gave us the bad news.

There are clearly forces at work trying to destabilize the region. The Brotherhood, the cult of Therizdun, the barbarian attacks, all seem to be sowing chaos but for no clear purpose. The barbarian attack on Blasingdel was not done for gain, but simply to create death and destruction. Additionally, several of these group seem to be looking for something but exactly what is unknown. I flashed back to what Valanthe was told of the Tripartate by the old Sule god under Castle Greyhawk but perhaps that is just coincidence.

Other disruptions are occurring in Ahlissa. While the source of the unrest is unclear, Dravot’s family is squarely at the heart of it. There seemed to be some question regarding the line of succession, and both Dravot’s father and elder brother had recently taken quite ill from some lingering sickness. [OOC Thomas: DAMMIT I’m NOT going back for another damn fruit! Jay: Gee, maybe we shouldn’t have burned down that tree. ] Nasir had a letter from Dravot’s sister for him. Dravot was quite agitated by all this, and I can hardly blame him. He later told me the letter mentioned that Dravot’s mentor had visited with his father, and both his father and brothers had been agitated lately.

Nasir then told us we were to travel to Ahlissa and investigate the problem, and solve it if possible or if not, send word back to Lord Gelban as to the nature of the problem. They have agents in Ahlissa but so far they have been unable to learn anything useful. Nasir will arrange to have agents in place to return messages, and we will be met by another one of their ilk, a brass dragon. We will know him because, well… he’ll know us.

Dravot wanted to set out immediately but that was certainly not practical. We plan to leave in the morning, with an appropriately sized caravan. We’ll head south to Dyvers, and then by ship over the Nyr Dyv and then over land to Ahlissa. The journey is long but should not be overly hazardous. While in Dyvers we will have a chance to sell some of our recent acquisitions and perhaps purchase some new equipment.

Nasir also brought some items for some of us. He snidely stated that in response to my whining, he had packages for some of us. I was both shocked and hurt by this but I’ll go into that later. For Scorch there was a magical ring that added to his spell capacity. Rackhir and I had both been sent flaming longbows. (My mind immediately flashed to piles of burning twig horrors when I examined this in my room.) Valanthe was also brought some boots that allow her to climb up the walls, similar to Scorch’s Spider Climb spell.

So I sit in the tavern, drinking quietly while people scurry about preparing to leave. After a bath and fresh clothes, there was little else for me to do. I managed to repair some of the acid damage to my armor on the trip back from the fortress but I think once we reach Dyvers I’ll see about some new armor. Perhaps it’s the wine but I have a number of troubling thoughts that I can’t seem to shake. 

On the larger scale, we now have at least two new elements in this puzzle. In addition to the cult of Therizdun and the Scarlet Brotherhood, we now have the Wolf Clan barbarians added into this, and whoever hired the mercenaries from the south, as well as this mad bowwoman. The number of players in this drama is growing every day, and most of them want to kill us. I do not wish to ignore that orcish Druid too long – his ambush nearly killed us last time and I do not wish to allow him to prepare again. We need to take steps to kill him before he can kill us, but it seems that must wait for another day. Mostly though we are working in the dark, devoid of any information that would let us grasp this situation more clearly. Perhaps we will find answers in Ahlissa, but so far each day only brings more questions.

On a more personal level I’m troubled by my role in all this. Nasir offended me with his degrading comments – I have never uttered a “whine” before him or Lord Gelban. Am I glad to have a flaming bow the next time the twig horrors strike? Most certainly. Have I complained to Gelban about it? No. Perhaps it’s the arrogance of the dragonkind, but if we’re so pathetic, then why doesn’t Nasir go to Ahlissa himself and sort things out? I’m tempted to tell him exactly that. Lord Gelban wanted a fruit and we got it. He wanted the fruit taken to the cambion, and we did it. He wanted the orcs out of the Glitterhame and Durgeddin’s works and lore, and we got that too. And now I’m accused of “whining”. If it weren’t for the wine helping me relax, I’d be on a horse riding toward Celene right now.

And there’s more that makes me want to go home. I am starting to wonder what I’m doing here. It was a simple matter with goblins and rats. I would shoot, and they would be hurt. But the horrors we face of late seem to all laugh at me. The monk knocked my arrows aside. The gricks were unaffected. The twig horrors were likely laughing at me until Meepo handed me the flaming arrows. And of course the skeletons may as well just ignore me as well. And even after Nightscale’s shield fell, she still barely felt my arrows. Rackhir has a strong arm and is just as effective with a blade in his hand and therefore has no hesitation to drop his bow. I have no such strength and little skill with such large weapons, and my spells are scarcely more than an apprentice’s. I’m starting to feel that I’m of no use in any fight of consequence, and that against anything larger than an orc, I’m less useful than Meepo. I was very disappointed that I had missed my chance to speak with Aran’gel – these things have been troubling me greatly lately and I had hoped to speak with him in confidence. Perhaps it’s time to take my bow and ride for the forests of home and patrol for orcs, where I can have some use. I had hoped Aran’gel could provide me some insight or perhaps just tell me it’s not as bad as it seems, but with him in pursuit of the mercenaries, I’ll likely not see him again. Perhaps the flaming bow will help, but with Nasir’s attitude, I’d just as soon he took it back with him. And even so, the arrow that flies from the bow is still a normal arrow, and I scarcely have the gold for numbers of magical arrows that shatter on the first strike.

One more glass of wine, then I’ll try to rest before the trip.


*From Dravot’s Journal*

Tomorrow we assault the foul worm, Nightscale. We are as prepared as we can be, but I fear that one or more of my companions will not live to see the glorious dawn again. I pray to Pelor for guidance and for strength for us all. I have protected us all against the effects of the dragon's noxious breath, and will use more effective spells tomorrow during the battle as needed. We will also be prepared to deal with the lake, walking on water, and breathing underneath if need be. This is a tremendous undertaking. 

Jozan is centered in prayer to his deity, and is keeping Meepo busy in order to distract him. This is good, since I'm sure Kayleigh would throw him down the sink hole if he doesn't stop jabbering. I understand the sentiment, but think that a good silence spell would be more effective and less costly. Scorch and Rackhir both seem excited at the thought of causing mass destruction. I pray for them. Kayleigh seems upbeat, but I can tell that the weight of what comes ahead is pressing upon her. I cannot read Valanthe though. Who knows what goes through the mind of a rogue. I pray for her. I hope that I can show her the blessings of Pelor some day. 

The next day

We slew a dragon today. The fight was long, involved, ferocious and deadly. Kayleigh and I planned out as much as we could, deciding upon appropriate spells, but it was not enough. My father, who has done some fighting for the Emperor is fond of the saying: "No plan survives contact with the enemy." I never understood the wisdom of this before today. 

Our plan was to set up an ambush near the ladder. Kayleigh would move forward close enough to get the dragon's attention and bring it back to the group, which was in a readied position. We cast light on some coins and arrows in order to help with this. We would shoot the lit arrows into the dragon in order to more easily find her. 

Our plans were for naught, as the dragon had detected their scent 2 days previously, and had preparations of her own. She set up an alarm spell, and knew we were coming, and cast several scrolls upon herself, including expeditious retreat to double movement, shield and protection from good, amongst others. 

Nightscale surprised us, breathing acid upon Kayleigh, who was able to avoid most of the damage. I'm glad I cast that ward against acid. Next, dragon came on shore, attacking Rackhir, who was the only available target 
as she was bearing down upon me (identified as a caster, and therefore a threat). Her attacks were vicious and raked through his armor, causing him some pain. At this point we came to understand the true nature of this beast, and had to fight to regain our composure and our resolve. Luckily, Valanthe was the only one unsuccessful. I'm sure that if she followed Pelor's will, she would have had the internal strength to fight back. 

Kayleigh fired arrows into the foul beast, but was unsuccessful. The dragon's armor was magically enhanced, and she seemed to be unconcerned by non-magical weapons. I blessed the group, hoping that Pelor would grant 
us an insight and help our attacks land true. 

The beast then moved past Rackhir and Jozan, incurring their attacks as she brought her full ferocity upon myself. I dodged and blocked as best as I could, but was unable to avoid her savage blows. I was wounded fairly badly, but had enough strength to continue the battle. Jozan noticed that his sword was beckoning to him, asking something of him. Kayleigh, who is wiser than I first thought, told him to channel the power of his deity into it, which he did. The sword blazed to life, and for the next minute seemed to become a dealer of destruction, a powerful force of nature of it's own. He sliced into the dragon, deeper than before. Scorch then unleashed a mighty lightning bolt upon the creature. I attempted to assist Jozan's attacks, but the dragon moved before I was able to render any useful aid. 

She flew over toward Scorch, and I feared for his life. He is not very strong and breaks quite easily. Luckily for him, but unlucky for me, she then turned and breathed her horrid acid upon myself. Pelor assisted me in avoiding most of the damage, and my spell helped some more, but I couldn't avoid the entire assault. 

Jozan, Rackhir and Valanthe took advantage of my water walking spells, and moved across the river to continue the assault. Scorch hit her again with a bolt. She resisted my attempt to doom her efforts. Her will was quite strong. The fighters were largely successful, and for a moment I found myself optimistically thinking that the battle was ours. I now know better than to be optimistic in battle, as the dragon chose this moment to dive underwater and retreat back to the safety of her island and heal with the aid of some potions. 

We followed her out to the island (again, I thank Pelor for the wisdom of the water walking spell), and continued the fight. Jozan charged her hard, doing more damage. Valanthe, Kayleigh and Rackhir followed suit. Valanthe must have a death wish, but she saw another potion within the dragon's range, and dived through her claws in order to prevent the dragon from getting it. I'm glad she did. She also found a wand, to be determined as a wand of magic missiles. This will be of use later, I'm sure. I followed out, casting protection from evil, in case she turned her attentions back to me. 

The dragon breathed upon Jozan and raked Rackhir with her claws. Scorch unleashed his last bolt, and then moved on to magic missiles. This combat seemed to take forever. The dragon's scroll spells all started falling, 
one after the other. It was now easier to attack her and do damage. An attack upon her also prevented her from casting mage armor. This must have helped a lot as well. 

I cured some damage to Jozan so he could continue the fight. Earlier I had healed myself, and Scorch, and maybe Rackhir. At this stage my memory is hazy with images of battle. The dragon then took off, trying to escape. We hit her again as she launched. When she was in the air, Jozan threw his lit coin up, finding her in the upper reaches. This allowed Kayleigh to unleash her lit arrows into the foul beast, so we could find her no matter what. She was preparing to leave, and I called upon a spiritual weapon to slay the mighty beast, but my call was for naught. The weapon could not strike the true blow that was required. 

We thought that she left, and I was filled with despair, worried about adding a dragon to the list of enemies that we seem to be incurring. At this point, Jozan informed us that his wolfmount had successfully slain the dragon on our behalf. I will pray to Pelor that I gain more insight into combat, so that I can be more effective in the future, but I fear 
it is not my calling. I often wonder what that calling is. I believe that Pelor caused my spiritual weapon to miss, as I let my pride get ahead of the group's goals. I wanted to be the one to slay the dragon, and should have been more focused at the task of hand. I need to meditate upon this, and speak with my mentor Bellamy about it, or possibly Govannen back in Greyhawk. 

We head to Blasingdel tomorrow. I look forward to 3 days of sleep, some decent port and a good cut of beef.


----------



## Zad

*A Family Affair - Chapter 1*

*A Family Affair - Chapter 1: A brief Dyver-sion*

Every noble family has skeletons in their closet. In this adventure we learn Dravot's is no exception.

Note that while many of the names come from Speaker in Dreams, this adventure bears only that similarity. Nothing in here will be much of a spoiler for that module. 


*OOC Notes:*

Experience for this session was 1440. 250 point bonus to Valanthe for procurement services, and 250 point bonus to Kayleigh from last session for going back and strong-arming the duregar.

We have some interesting journal additions from Dravot, Valanthe and Jozan. Some is background material and some is involving the current going’s on. Normally I’d pull background material up to the front in an intro but since some of it involves what’s happened recently, I’ll just put it here.

Clarification on various symbols:

Symbol of Therizdun on the following: 
i) On chest of assasains that attacked Gelban manse 
ii) Shape Twig Horror was attempting to form 
iii) On chest of assailants in Dyvers Inn
iv) On corrupted ground in Gulthias Grove in Sunless Citadel
v) On chest of monk attacker in Greyhawk b) 
Great Kingdom Symbol on the following: 
i) Dravot's Left Fore-arm 
ii) 'Dravot Compass' magic item 
iii) Branded on victims in one of Dravot's visions 
Symbol of Vecna on the following: 
i) Symbol worn by Druid in Sunless Citadel 
ii) Symbol worn by Orc Druid south of Highfolk 
iii) Symbol seen in Dravot's initial vision around neck of doomed Lt. 


*Notes for Next Time:*
The plot thickens. We should probably analyze that locator device.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

Before we left, I had the chance to hear some more details about the situation. There are definite rumors (is there such a thing?) that the Overking of Ahlyssa is less than happy with things in the Hexpool area, which is where Dravot’s homeland is. Lord Gelban’s spies have not been able to determine the exact situation in the court or attend the Council, due to the nature of the king’s chambers. (Dravot later informed me that the Malachite Throne and the room in which it lies, is kept enchanted so that people inside only speak the truth. Somehow during the reign of Ivid, it was corrupted so that the king could compel anyone to say whatever the king pleased. Supposedly this has been corrected but there is still a shroud of suspicion that lingers.) Second and third hand information says that the region has been generally destabilized and there have been tales of violence and brigands, and that this is pressing enough that the Overking may be marshalling forces.

Dravot carefully read and re-read the letter from his sister. He believes that she was intentionally vague, expecting it to be intercepted. His father and brother are both very ill with some sort of “living death”. No mention was made of any attempts to heal or revive him. The letter was delivered to Lord Gelban’s estate by a courier.

Blasingdel was already well into it’s rebuilding efforts after the attack. Hopefully the money and supplies we left in the Glitterhame will help them. Looking around at the destruction, I felt somehow we should do more. We manage to arrange our equipment and supplies and head south back to Highfolk. It was a quiet ride, and we spent the night there before pressing on. The town has a wonderful charm to it and a welcoming feel and it would have been pleasant to spend a month or so there just to rest but circumstances forced us to move on in the morning. From his complaining, Scorch was again forced to do the dishes.

It was no trouble to find more recent news of Aran’gel – they turned west a half-days ride north of Highfolk. Aran’gel had sent some men into town to gather reinforcments and some special equipment. It sounded like he was planning some kind of ambush or pincer attack to get this bowwoman. The attackers are now moving as a fast and stealthy force, rather than as a rampaging band of marauders. The attack on Blasingdel may have been a diversion of some kind. The forces are probably evenly matched now. There is some fear they may have some special form of protection with them, which is likely why Aran’gel requested some special equipment from his supplies.

We set southward the next day on the main trade route that leads through Furyondy. It’s a relatively safe road, staying well south of the border and farther from the reach of Iuz. We were just cresting a hill in the low lands and we saw a man seated on a tree stump ahead. He was probably Flan, being bald, tattooed, and sporting a bright red beard and mustache. He wore a simple brown robe and sat calmly with a staff nearby. At the time we were the only travelers in sight, and we all braced ourselves for some new assault. As we neared, we eased slightly when Jozan caught no scent of evil on him. When we were close, he stood and picked up his staff and said simply “Very well, you are here. We may go.”

I sighed a deep sigh. I was in no mood to deal with this man – yet another who knew things he was not sharing and had some purpose which he was not revealing. After several questions, things became clear. I must admit that at least he was willing to answer when directly questioned.

His name was Marcus. He had been dispatched to aid us, understanding we had some kind of trouble with one of “his kind”. It seemed clear that he meant Druids, in particular the evil Druid who set the ambush for us. He had been sent by some type of Druidic council who, it seems, are aware that some of their rank have broken some of their laws and been corrupted.

He was either friend or foe. If he was friend, then his company would be valuable. If a foe, then he would be a menace to us whether he was with us or not, and it was just as well to have him where we could watch him. As we rode on, he walked next to Jozan, having no trouble matching our pace.

We did not reach the next town before nightfall, and camped by the road. Marcus simply slept against a tree. The evening was uneventful and we continued in the morning. Just before reaching the town, Marcus informed us he would meet us on the far side. Apparently he has a distaste for towns. Sure enough, he was waiting on the far side and we continued.

Marcus stayed with us for two days. On the evening of the second day, he informed us that he would take his leave some time the next day and that we should be safe enough now. He then told us something new – there was more than one Druid involved. The orcish Druid we saw was not the same Druid that set the ambush for us. Since we never saw him, we assumed them to be the same, but this was not the case. Apparently this second Druid was the much more dangerous foe, and he was a former member of Marcus’ order. This made him easier to track (in what way I did not understand.) We showed him the sapling we had recovered and he said it was a bark blight. The produce an overlarge amount of sap, and would be the size of a lion. The sap is also stronger than what we have previously encountered. He indicated that since they are basically large logs, bludgeoning weapons were of little use but that other attacks should be effective. 

He also casually mentioned “implants”. Apparently those who have turned against his order and have turned to Vecna have been removing a part of their body and replacing it with something. Our Druid nemesis has cut off his arm and replaced it with some kind of tree limb. The mention of it seemed to disturb the normally impassive Marcus.

He also mentioned a destroyed temple of Therizdun in the Yatl mountains. We were apparently quite close to it as we traveled to and from the Glitterhame. Marcus was also confused by the Therizdun-Vecna connection and had no insights into this paradox. (I did take some private satisfaction at confounding him – the number of smug people I encounter these days has been alarmingly high.) 

Before Marcus left, he gave us a small woven twig object. It can be used to summon assistance from his kind if we are close enough to the forest. 

Almost as soon as Marcus took his leave, the immense town of Dyvers loomed into view. It was a wide sprawling town and was quite different from Greyhawk in how spread out it was. The Nyr Dyv spread out behind it, and it seemed quite tranquil from a distance. Valanthe was raised in Dyvers and commented that the defense system is not based on large defenses and walls in the way Greyhawk’s is. Rather the city is sectional and defenders can fall back to various sections as needed.

At the city gates were the usual collection of come-ers and go-ers and the city watch, attempting to remain awake while watching it. The watch was a bit boggled by us, not seeing an armed party with a wolf rider very frequently. However Valanthe quickly eased their minds and we entered. The watch was rather specific on several points involving Crescent however. I don’t think they quite realized the nature of the bond between Jozan and his steed.

We arrive at an inn that Valanthe knew of, tended by an elven innkeeper. Shortly after we arrive, Valanthe leaves on business of her own, while Dravot heads off in search of the local temple. Scorch too left on some unknown business and returned 20 minutes later, looking displeased. Given the late hour, I was content to simply have a meal and a bath.

The next day we all set to separate tasks. My first one was to arrange passage to Ahlyssa. I locate the docks easily enough and some polite inquiries and a smile direct me to a suitable ship. To my relief, it’s an elven ship - Yu'salla Lendan Shai, which is a sea-elf name. Roughly translated into Common, it means 'Thorn of the Lendores'. Her home port is, of course, a town in the Lendore Isles, Tidemeet. They sail in four days on the morning tide, and they can accommodate Crescent. As we are about to discuss his price, an old elven man behind me tells the captain that there is no need for a fee. The captain sees him, bows slightly in understanding and returns to his ship.

The elder is the same one I saw with Lord Gelban some months ago. Like then, he oddly bears no outward sign of rank or station. He says some obscure things that even now slip from my memory. I am curious about this elder, and we take lunch together. He tells me he is here to meet with other members of the testing. We spent a pleasant enough lunch, and I simply let his more obscure comments slide by without reply. I suspect this is another of the Council of Scale, a silver dragon most likely. I didn’t bother mentioning this to anyone – perhaps such things are simply becoming routine. 

Jozan refreshed my memory about the testing. There are elves who have been “tested” – they have passed through Sehanine’s moon arc, and when they came out, they had been changed. Some became great scholars, others great poets, and some went to the Lenore Isles and never returned. Some have given up their worldly possessions to go embark upon a great purpose, but what that purpose is, even they cannot fully explain. At home, these elves are something of black sheep, but if it is their calling then it is.

After lunch, I spent a pleasant afternoon in the market district shopping. I purchased the pieces I need to create holy water arrows as Dravot and I discussed, as well as several sets of clothes. Given that we will be moving in high circles in Ahlyssa, it will be important to be dressed appropriately. While it is by no means certain what awaits us, we were told to expect to be involved in some situations where a finer cut of clothing would be called for. It has been some time since I wore a proper dress and I enjoyed my time at the dressmaker trying things on. Dravot was uncertain if we would be required to attend a high state affair calling for very formal dress, but if we were, his family would supply appropriate finery. I see Dravot as a fine man and devoted to his family, but I know that elves are scarcely common in Ahlyssa and the notion of being dressed for a ball by humans was enough that I chose to deal with that possibility myself.

We did well in the forge and had a ready supply of gold after Valanthe disposed of the various findings. Perhaps I should have spent the gold on inks to pen more spells into my book but I instead chose to spoil myself on two items. The first was a starlight gown – it was custom made for me and looks wonderful. Even at home I would draw no small amount of attention in it. In Ahlyssa, it would be no less than stunning. The tailor even seemed pleased with himself as he saw me wearing it.

The second item was a harp. A fine elven harp, small enough to travel with, it was equal to any in Celene and may have even come from there. It had been so long since I played music that I thought I owed myself something after the recent troubles. The sea voyage will give me a chance to practice again.

On a more practical side, my leathers had seen better days. I had resolved to replace them in Dyvers. I was a bit surprised to see leaf armor in one shop, but given recent troubles, I had something more protective in mind. A mithril chain shirt would suit me well being light enough to shoot and cast in while still guarding me better than my leathers when they were new. Now, after fire, acid, claw, and blade, the armor looked more like a patchwork quilt than anything. Unfortunately my inquiries met with no luck – I could find no mithril for sale. Perhaps it was too much to ask, or perhaps I wasn’t asking the right people. I decided that perhaps the native daughter could provide some help and found Valanthe later. She said she knew someone who might have that type of thing and returned two hours later, shirt in hand. The price was high, but as soon as I put it on, I was sure it was gold well spent. It weighs nearly nothing and under a shirt can hardly be seen.

As the days passed before our departure, we each enjoyed what Dyvers had to offer and saw each infrequently. In some ways it was good to have a bit of time in private, if you can call it that in such a large city. It wasn’t unusual in the late afternoon to find some of my companions in the inn, and I was just returning when all hell broke loose.

Later I learned the prelude - Valanthe had come into the inn and found Dravot and Scorch there. As they sat, she noticed four men watching Dravot. They were rough looking, laboring types. Valanthe pointed this out to Dravot (who, I’m told, looked over immediately) and suggested that the boys take a walk so that Valanthe could follow these goons. As they got up, Valanthe saw them put a small object wrapped in cloth on the table. It continued to point at Dravot as he moved towards the door.

Upon seeing this, the goons moved to intercept Dravot. One of them, lumbering in a clumsy manner, places himself between Dravot and the door while others move behind. The one in the door then took a swing at Dravot and everything erupted.

It seems that the lumbering thug was in fact an ogre, under a crude illusion. This was true for one of the other attackers as well. The remaining two seemed to be human however.

One of the orcs hit Dravot with the back of his hand – it seems they were trying to take him alive. The next distinct thing anyone remembers clearly is Scorch stepping back and sending a lightning bolt shooting across the in, blasting the attackers and the wall. I heard the crack of thunder down the street and got to the inn a moment later, blade in hand.

When I got to the doorway the fracas was in full swing. Dravot had summoned a spiritual weapon and the attackers were engaged with Dravot, Valanthe and Scorch. Scorch had apparently thrown a hold person, and while ineffective on the ogres, one of the human attackers was frozen in place, evening the odds nicely.

I stepped in behind the ogre in the doorway and attacked. The clumsy brute could barely dodge in the narrow confines of the inn. He was frothing at the mouth in some kind of berserk rage. One of the human thugs grabbed at Dravot and held him but Dravot quickly wriggled free. Meanwhile Valanthe was attacking the other ogre inside.

At one point, the remaining human tried to grab Dravot, but Valanthe was right near, and promptly introduced him to her blade. He fell with a gurgle. This only left the ogres to deal with. Jozan arrived just after I did and we pressed in on the ogres. Valanthe landed a blow on one ogre that would have felled any mortal man I have met, and the ogre remained fighting, only further enraged. The second ogre was chasing Scorch and had hurt him badly. Dravot leapt over the bar and healed Scorch, who was retreating up the stairs. Jozan sliced deep into the leg of one ogre, and it knelt and howled and its blood gushed everywhere, and it was overcome and fell. The other ogre was across the room from me, clawing at Scorch up the stairs. I had the quiver produce the flaming bow, and let a flaming arrow loose into its back, and it crashed down on the wrecked stairs.

I’ve been in bar fights before, but this one had a good bit more lethality. Lightning bolts, magic missiles, ogres, and poisoned blades in the hands of our human attackers all ranged across the bar. Valanthe was fighting smart and was able to flank our assailants for several attacks. The ogres may have been easy to hit, but their huge arms were nearly impossible to avoid, and by the end we were all seriously injured. Smart fighting and quick thinking was what made us the ones standing at the end.

The hold person was just about to wear off of our one living attacker. I gave a small giggle and realized I had the perfect thing to find out more about this attack – Charm Person. I cast it on our soon-to-be friend, but the spell was thrown back in a most unpleasant way. I had never seen anything like that before. I looked at the man carefully to determine if it was perhaps some item that was protecting him. At the neck of his shirt I saw something drawn on his chest, starting to glow. As I looked I could see that it was not drawn, but carved or burnt into his flesh, and as I looked, they began to glow more intensely. Scorch yelled with a start “Explosive runes!” Since he was unable to get down the broken staircase, he withdrew to the upstairs and shielded himself behind a door. The rest of us wasted no time leaving the inn.

Sure enough within a few seconds of getting clear, the interior of the inn was consumed in the explosion. 

After the fire was doused, there was little left. The human bodies were completely destroyed. The ogre bodies were charred and maimed but were still identifiable as ogres. I was relieved to have some proof the attack. Several witnesses were in the bar when it all started and we able to confirm our tale to the city watch. They did not know what to make of the events but could place no blame with us, and made no charges.

Valanthe managed to grab the locator device before the room exploded. It was a small gold arrow about a foot long and at the center was a small disk with a blood red symbol painted on it – the Great Kingdom seal. It matched the bruise that had appeared on Dravot’s arm after his dream. Scorch and I are planning to analyze this device on our journey. 

Just once it would be nice to go through a town without being attacked. Fortunately we sail tomorrow, so I doubt there will be a chance for a second attack.


*From Dravot’s Journal*

Upon reaching Dyvers

We have reached Dyvers and have checked into an inn while we arrange passage to Prymp and my homeland. I have taken one of the nicer rooms in the inn, it is a pleasure to treat myself to the finer things after being on the road for so long. 

I have just come back from the local Temple. It's beauty and grace is amazing, and befitting of Pelor. I had heard of it's wonders, but after being in the Temple at Greyhawk, I couldn't imagine that it would surpass Greyhawk's. 

At the Temple, I told the prelate about our adventures, and my concerns that my armor was slowing me down in crucial situations, and I asked him if he could assist me in the purchase of some mithril to replace my current armor.My armor was looking rather sad anyway, and I think he took pity upon my appearance. I will have to locate a buckler on my own, but it looks like I will be able to get a chain shirt. Most excellent. 

I still have no information on what is going on at home, and I am gravely worried. I have not had any more dreams or visions since the Glitterhame. I do not know if I should count myself as lucky or unlucky in this. Perhaps I could glean more information if I were to have another? Is this what I want? 

I grow more concerned daily over the mark on my arm. At first it was just a bruise, having appeared after my first vision in the dwarven sepulcher. Since then, the skin around it has become discolored and pale, and dry and itchy, like a burn wound that is healing. I have tried to cure myself, I have tried to remove disease and remove curse, all with no luck. I purchased some soothing lotion in one town on the way, but that has had no effect as well. I have not let anyone see it since the Glitterhame. If I cannot cure it, I do not want to alarm the others about it. 

Kayleigh thought that the shape of the bruise was odd, but she doesn't know the half of it. The bruise is in the shape of ... something to do with the Great Kingdom, or the royal family, or both. I wish I had paid more attention to the heraldry sessions as a boy, but it's enough to drive one to drink. 

I hope that I can get some answers from Bellamy or my father about all of this. I pray to Pelor that my father and brother are ok. 

2nd night in Dyvers

It happened again. Another vision. I still fear for my sanity, for it was so real, yet it could not be true. There was a huge difference this time...Valanthe was there as well. This disturbs me to no end...if it had been Jozan, I would have taken comfort, but what was she doing there? Is there a connection between us, as yet unknown? Maybe it's an opportunity for me to bring her into the glory of Pelor. 

Starting at the beginning; my recollections are as good as they can be under these harrowing circumstances... 

Last night, I came back to the Inn after a long day exploring the town. I purchased a new outfit befitting my station, and appropriate for going home. My arm was throbbing pretty badly today, so I hate a light supper, had a glass of port and retired to bed. 

Again, I had that same feeling of flying as before, and again I found myself at the family crypt. After a moment, I realized that Valanthe was there too. Right now I do not know if she was there in the same capacity as I was, or if she was part of my dream. I regret that I shall have to find out, even if it means betraying family confidences. 

I was again at the crypt, but the scene was different. My father and Bellamy were there, as were several of the household guards. The guards were struggling to shut the door of the crypt, and seemed to be faltering at the task. An inky blackness seemed to ... ooze out of the crypt. Bellamy was casting some spell, though I know not what it was. My father was commanding the others to close the door, heaving at it himself when it was clear that more effort was needed. 

At that moment, I noted that there was something odd about both Bellamy and my father, but I couldn't figure out what it was until later on. They both seemed younger than I remember. Father's hair was still black, not the all white hair that he had after my brother Roget died. Bellamy seemed younger and slimmer than I remember, about what he was like when I met him as a child. It's almost as if I was seeing things as they were in the past, although I doubt it, as I would have known something of such events in the crypts. 

Anyway, a hammer came flying out of the crypt, obviously a spiritual weapon, and it hit a guard, killing him instantly. I tried to move forward and go into the room, since it wasn't real, I could go anywhere, or so I thought. As I tried to move through the door, I felt a strong force keeping me out, resisting me more and more as I tried to move forward. I gave up after a moment, and settled for a look. 

What I saw chilled me then, and it runs shivers down my back now that I'm awake. I saw a silhouette of a man, maybe my height. He was standing in front of a huge column of purple light that outlined him. I also caught a glimpse of a 2nd creature...I think it was human, but it was hobbled and couldn't move well. 

I tried to channel positive energy at the doors, but it had no effect. I stood about, helpless, watching this play out. 

At this point, Bellamy said in a deep deep voice, "STOP", and threw a hammer into the room...I think it was a sun hammer. I've heard of them, but have never seen one before. There was a sound of glass breaking inside the crypt and the doors were sucked in, slamming closed. 

The doors then re-opened, and all was calm. There were several dead men inside the crypt, more of my father's soldiers. Debris that I thought was the result of years of decay was actually the leftover mess from battle. 

I then attempted to channel positive energy at my father, and he seemed to twitch, as if I got through to him in the slightest way. He then said, "The children must not know of any of this". Of what? I still don't understand. 

It was at this point that I heard the voice again... 

"He didn't listen then... He didn't listen now Your brothers didn't listen Roget listened You will listen" 

I couldn't get to sleep the rest of the night. That voice rattles about in my head. 

The next day

My fears have been realized. Valanthe did participate in last night's vision. She wasn't just part of my madness. I do not know whether to be relieved that someone has witnessed this too, or concerned that someone like her has seen this. If I knew what was going on, I'd be in a better position to tell. 

I needed time to reflect upon what happened, so when Valanthe approached me, I made a deal with her. If she could locate a mithril buckler before I could, I would tell her some of what I knew. I figured that this was a win/win situation. I had no luck in locating the buckler, so odds were that she wouldn't either, and I wouldn't have to talk. If she did find it, well...then I'd have the buckler, and I'd share what I thought was appropriate, but I'd keep my deductions and speculations to myself. 

Imagine my distress when I came back to the Inn, and found her with my buckler, the same buckler that the merchant earlier today had claimed he didn't have. At this moment, she realized that we were being watched...or more specifically, I was being watched. Scorch and I left together, allowing Valanthe to watch the goons (and they were goons), and follow them. 

At that moment, the first goon blocked the door and attempted to grab me. I punched him with my buckler, and avoided this. My buckler smash revealed the goon to be an ogre! After facing Ulf, I wasn't quite as afraid, but I was less than thrilled, let me tell you. Valanthe tumbled through and attemped to help me out, but couldn't make a hit. Scorch saw an opportunity and took it, unleashing a lightning bolt in the room, striking 3 of the goons at the same time. 

I tried to move behind the bar, figuring that the bar would give me some protection. The ogre struck at me as I did, but obviously wasn't trying to kill me...maybe they wanted me alive? One of the goons went after Scorch and said something to that effect, attacking him with a poisoned dagger. He wound up regretting it when Scorch held him in place, taking him out of the fracas. 

I called upon Pelor to grant me a spiritual weapon, and set it upon the ogre, it helped to do some damage, but didn't do much to affect the course of the battle. The second human (the third was an ogre hidden by illusion as well) came around the bar and grabbed me. I was able to break free though. 

By this point, Kayleigh and Jozan had shown, no doubt alarmed by Scorch's lightning bolt. They both laid into the ogre at the door, doing some serious damage. Valanthe got in a sneak attack upon the 2nd ogre and then tumbled through to my aid. The goon again tried to grab me, but didn't realize that Valanthe was behind him and he died because of his mistake. 

At this point I was able to cast prayer, aiding my companions, and cursing the ogres. Scorch had unleashed several magic missiles at the 2nd ogre by this point, and had valiantly distracted him for us, drawing him up the stairs. Unfortunately, in all of the fighting, Scorch had been wounded several times. Hearing his cry for aid, I jumped up onto the bar and ran down it, finding him on the stairs. The ogre hit me, but I was able to save Scorch. 

Finall the first ogre went down, and the second one went down fairly quickly thereafter. We were going to charm the last living goon, but he was protected by some magical means, and the spell almost turned itself upon Kayleigh. At this point, strange markings on the chest of the two humans began to glow. Scorch identified them as explosive runes, and we all vacated the premises just before they blew up. Luckily, no one was hurt. 

Valanthe turned up some magical device that the men were using to track me. I will play around with it on the ship and try to understand it better. I am deeply disturbed that the symbol on it matches the bruise on my arm. I am starting to believe that this is real. 

I will speak with Valanthe about this on the boat. 


*From Valanthe's Journal*

Let's get one thing straight: I don't HAVE to do this. I was making a perfectly good living before Gelban came along. Well, OK, maybe not perfectly good . . . I mean, I'm not a paladin or anything. But that's not important right now.
See, I do what I need to do. I've never had much use for 'the law'. Trithereon knows it's never had much use for me. From the very beginning, I did what I needed to survive. If that meant going outside the law, then so be it. Before Ardestor found me on the streets of Dyvers, I did anything I needed to, just to survive. 

What's that? Oh, Ardestor. I suppose I should say something about him. He's a cleric of Trithereon. Maybe you've met him or one of his kind – you know the type, all about power and individuality. I've never seen the inside of a church, and from what Ardestor says, most don't. It's the practice that's important, he said. He goes on a bit much, I suppose, but his heart's in the right place. He got me into the orphanage – you know, the one run by Mother Gota? More on her in a minute.

Anyhow, out of respect for Ardestor (and I'd never tell him this . . . I mean, he preaches enough as it is), I've given up most of my bad habits. That's no mean feat, understand. Most of them. When I was old enough, I left the orphanage, but I still felt the need to do something to pay Ardestor and Mother Gota back.

You see, Mother Gota, she really is kind of like a mother to me. The closest to one I've ever had or can remember, anyways. She looked after us, fed us, and tried to teach us the value of helping others. I suppose that sort of thing sinks in after a while. Her charges have always figured that she's part elf, because I've met people who swear she was old when they were kids, and they weren't exactly newborns themselves, if you take my meaning. She doesn't look the part, but I've always wondered, myself. 

Anyways, I tried honest work for a while. I didn't like it. Either I apprentice for years to earn a lousy trade, or I end up working at manual labor for some ogre-brain. Fat chance. I'm sneaky, I'm quick, and I know how to get at other people's things . . . whether they want me to see them or not. Now, I don't just take things willy-nilly. I'm not a thief . . . I'm a social equalizer. I only steal from the rich, and I'm not greedy. And I give a lot of the money away. Most of it goes to Mother Gota's orphanage. Sometimes I send it to other charities. Whatever it takes. Lords and ladies and royal courts . . . bah! They don't help the people. If I've learned one thing from Trithereon it's self-reliance, and that power comes from the individual.

So, let's talk about Gelban, and the mess he's gotten me into. See, it all started when I stole something from a goods shipment down at the merchant's quarter. It wasn't anything too fancy, I thought, just some goblets, engraved with gold dragons. I didn't know they were from the Duke of Ernst himself, sent as a present to Lord Devram Gelban of Greyhawk. I certainly didn't think they'd trace the sale of it back to me. But somehow, he did. But he didn't send a goon squad, or some assassin, he sent an offer. I was pretty skeptical, you can bet. But the money's good. I checked around – Gelban's word is his bond, and he's never been known to lie. So I took him up on his offer. He wanted me to join with some other adventurers he'd hired, to work on retainer. If I'd only known where this would all lead . . . well, I probably still would have taken the job.

See, first he sends us off to get this fruit (yeah, yeah I know, I thought it was crazy, too) to heal his daughter. Well, we find ourselves in a Keoland backwater town, looking for some goblins, a Druid, and these weird plant creatures in some dragon-worshipper's temple that fell in a crack in the ground. You can imagine how that went. Still, we succeeded in finding the fruit, killing a lot of goblins, and netting some loot. Naturally, almost all of it went to the orphanage.

And then, of course, there's the folks I work with. They're an agreeable lot, I suppose, even if most of them are kind of stuck-up. Let's see now:

Kayleigh: well, she's an elf, for starters. Great with a bow, and a good planner. Something of a leader, I guess, if you're inclined to follow others. I do when it makes sense. Still, she's a little leery of me lately . . . old habits being what they are (hey, I said I MOSTLY kicked them), she almost caught me nabbing a potion. I mean, you never know. Seems to get ruffled a little easy, though. It's hard to tell with elves, sometimes . . . I mean, she's probably four times my age, and yet sometimes it seems like she's an insecure kid, not a survivor of those . . . what did they call them? Oh yeah, 'Hateful Wars'. As if war was every anything but.

Jozan: A Paladin. He has a big heart, and carries a big sword. Physically, he doesn't seem that imposing . . . least not till he charges you, screaming some weird holy battle cry. He's a bit of a stickler for the rules, though. Not as rigid as some paladins I've robb . . . err, met. Still, doesn't hurt not to discuss my past with the likes of him . . . the last thing I need is a lecture.

Dravot: Speaking of lectures, Pelor's errand boy is handy with the healing, but something of a stick in the mud. Comes from noble blood, whether or not he admits it. You can't shake the smell of money, and he fairly reeks of it. Still, try as I might, I can't really bring myself to dislike him. He reminds me of Ardestor, 'cuz he really cares about people. Maybe that's why he's not lounging about some estate somewhere, but actually out among us common folk. I think he trusts in his god a little too much, mind you. I mean, I think Trithereon's swell, but you don't see putting my life in his hands. That's just crazy.

Scorch: A smelly, smelly man. Dravot won't talk about his family, but Scorch is proud to badmouth his. He says he's the fourth son of some hedge knight, but I don't buy it. He scares me a little, but I guess he's safe enough. He can be secretive, though, and that usually means trouble in my book. You never know what a wizard is up to . . . but they all have to sleep, sometimes. His spells come in real handy, when he can be convinced to use them.

Rackhir: What can i say about Rackhir? He's the one member of the group I just don't trust. He doesn't talk about his past, and I get the impression there's bad blood there. He's from the north, I'm sure of it. He's got a lot of scars, and his eyes have that 'dead' look to them. He could care less about killing – it's just a job to him. Gelban seems to think he's safe to trust, but he worries me.

Things have gotten a little strange lately. I've been doing . . . things . . . that I don't know how I've been able to do. Sometimes I hear voices, but I don't think I'm going crazy . . . am I? I can see better than an elf . . . I never could before. I'd think it was all just in my head . . . but then at the Forge, I . . . jumped, let's say. From falling down off a cliff to a safe spot above. I took Jozan with me, but I don't know if he knows what happened. And now, I had a dream, and Dravot was in it . . . I'm afraid to ask him about it, but I'm not sure if it's because he'll tell me it really happened, or if I'm just losing my mind

I've had dreams before. You know, the usual things. You're rich, happy, falling through the clouds, that type of stuff. But since when do you dream that you are in someone else's dream?

I somehow managed to end up in Dravot's, like some kind of witness, or guest. It was at a vault, like in the family dead kind of vault (though i wish it were the money type). There was a big commotion, something was trying to break out, and it didn't seem pleasant. There were soldiers, and what I assume to be the head of the family plus a powerful cleric and they were all trying to shut the door. Whatever was in there, it didn't seem pleasant. I think I might have even gotten shivers down my spine.

And then I noticed "them". While in Dravot's dream (?) vision, I noticed some shadow figures off to the side. They are becoming more of a familiar occurrence to me, but more of that later. They seemed to be paired off and discussing the situation that was occurring with the head of the group and the others. I couldn't hear much but I did pick a snip-it about a "Shadow King". Then, after they started to depart until only 2 were left, a female and male? I cannot be quite certain. They also said to "mark this spot" and I think they marked it in some way. They embedded a small green crystal (glowing until placed) in the floor in front of the tomb entrance. Their discussion implied that if the Shadow King attempted something again, this would alert them to the fact.

As I said, this is not the first time I have had some "shadowy" meetings. In the forge, there were 2 such instances, and both times they had helped in the fight and even saved Jozan and myself. When taking on the Great Ulf, I lay waiting in the shadows to get a better advantage and a sudden cold came over me. It was also accompanied by some whispering voices that I could not make out. After Ulf had passed by, not noticing me at all, I made my attack. After that, the cold and voices dissipated.

The next is even stranger. It was when the big lizard had decided to make a snack of Jozan. Silly enough the only thing I thought to do was to hop on top to make sure that we wouldn’t lose Jozan when the beast decided to take off. Jozan miraculously killed the beast but the momentum was such that it was carrying us straight off the cliff. I was prepared to see my life flash before my eyes, but to my amazement, I heard the voices whispering, felt the coldness, and Jozan and I woke up on the ground at the top of the cliff.

I do not know what to make of the strangeness I have been experiencing but for now it seems to be a help not a hindrance. I have consulted with my mentor and friend Ardestor, but he is at a loss to explain it. I have found no one knowledgeable on this matter.

All this and now for some reason, I find myself involved in Dravot's dilemma as well. I need some answers and hopefully soon. I just wish I knew why fate would have it to intertwine our paths. I also find it a bit amusing that I would be involved with another cleric, of Pelor to top it all off. Keeps telling me about the “light and glory” of Pelor. Blah, blah, blah. It all seems an improbable jest. At least it wasn't a Cleric of Cuthbert.

I am hoping that we can get some answers when we get to Ahlissa, though my gut feeling is to be very wary.


----------



## Zad

*A Family Affair - Chapter 2*

*A Family Affair - Chapter 2 – A’Sailing we shall go*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience for this session is 2270. 250 pt bonus to Valanthe for disarming and cannibalizing the trap. 250 pt bonus to Kayleigh for “convincing” the priest to talk to Dravot.


*Notes for Next Time:*

Quite a reception. Obviously our first priority is to get some information from the assassin, and then get ourselves off the streets and into a safer area with Bellamy.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

Just before leaving Dyvers, Rackhir returned from his personal business and noticed the new armor on several of our crew. He asked Valanthe to try to find him a similar shirt. Unfortunately it seems we’ve depleted the town stock and Rackhir had to pay dearly for it, but at least he got one, and he did not seem too concerned about the money.

We set sail the next morning on to the Nyr Dyv. The water was calm and the weather pleasant. I’ve never been much for travel by ship but it was pleasant enough, and at least I wasn’t wet. It was a comfort being on an elven ship with an elven crew, and the songs they sang while working gave me great comfort. I even learned a couple of them as the days went by.

As soon as we were aboard, Scorch locked himself in his cabin. (I use the phrase “cabin” loosely – more of a closet with a hammock really – this ship was not built for passengers.) However it was suited to his purposes and we only saw him rarely when he emerged for food. The others thought he was being his usual unsociable self but I knew better. The smell of the inks cut even through the salt air, and the black stains on his hands told the tale even more clearly – he was copying spells into his book – something I could appreciate. Had I more gold, I’d be doing much the same, but for now I have other needs. I remember reading of a magical spellbook that would accept a spell with even the most ordinary ink. I’ll have to see if I can find out more about this some time.

Dravot was not about much either. He had a much nicer room but still seemed moody. I’m sure in his position I’d be equally brooding. On the first day I examined the arrow that the ogres used to track him. It was a simple device that would home in on whoever bore the same mark as it was imprinted with. But there was more to the mark somehow. I drew the same mark on Jozan’s arm, and it did not track him, even though he was closer than Dravot at the time. The mark is a stylized old Aerdi character according to Dravot (when I could get a few words out of him) but more than that he could not remember. I was most disturbed that the arrow still functioned aboard ship – many such location divinations will not work across running water and I was hopeful that Dravot would be immune to being tracked for at least a little while.

The captain planned to stay near the coast until he was sure this good spring weather would hold, and then he would cut across the sea. On the third day, he ordered the course changed and we set off into the open sea. Scorch still scribbled, Dravot was still sequestered away, but the journey continued. When I was not studying or practicing my harp, Rackhir and I were amusing ourselves with target practice. The ship was just large enough to allow some interesting shots on the rolling sea, and the crew’s initial apprehension eased when they saw us start shooting and quibbling over accuracy of half a hand span.

Dravot actually came out of his cabin today, and spoke with Jozan for some time. He seemed pale, but that was hardly surprising. So far he has been reluctant to share and for the time being, I am not pressing him. 

On the fourth day, the ship lurched violently. The waters had gotten a fair bit rougher and we seemed to be in the middle of a spring storm. On a second look it was not a storm at all but several minor water elementals buffeting the ship. They were spraying enough water around to make it seem as if it were raining. Suddenly I was nicked with an arrow, and Scorch and Jozan as well. (Scorch had come above-deck to see what the ruckus was.) Jozan caught a glimpse of a small boat with several bowmen on it as it crested a wave.

Suddenly the sea rose up and deposited two water elementals on the deck. There was also a spell caster on the other boat, and a stinking cloud covered most of the ship. I was not in the cloud but Dravot was gagging and wretching from a full lung of the gas. I fired a couple shots at a nearby elemental while Scorch threw a fireball at the enemy ship. Jozan and an elemental exchanged blows with little effect.

Suddenly a glowing hand appeared in front of Scorch. He recognized it immediately as a spectral hand and wasted no time in destroying it to prevent the mage on the other ship from doing further damage. On the other ship, the archers appeared to cast a spell.

One of the elementals attacked me. I knew there was a fair chance that if we killed the mage, the elementals might vanish, so I chose to try to dodge past the elemental and attack the mage. Unfortunately I dodged rather badly, and the blow from the elemental broke nearly broke my arm. I still managed to put an arrow into the mage for all that, and Rackhir killed some of the opposing bowmen.

The fight began to swing our way, and Jozan and Rackhir destroyed the elementals and I got another shaft into that mage. Valanthe, in the rigging, could see two people on the other ship grabbing some sort of crystal under a tarp and going overboard with it. The mage soon followed them and they all vanished beneath the waves. Without the mages attention, the elementals harassing the ship dispersed and the sea was calm again.

We boarded the other ship – it had no oars and no sail. The crystal they removed may have been some means of propelling the boat. There was a trap in the main cabin designed to scuttle the boat should it be tripped, and likely kill whomever tripped it. Valanthe disabled it and she and Scorch managed to recover a good deal of the alchemy involved. On board we found little more than the three archers’ bodies. We took them with us and sank the ship.

The next day, Dravot cast a spell to speak with the dead – the reason we took the bodies. They told us this was not an attack to recover Dravot like what we faced in Dyvers but simple random piracy. They had been instructed to increase their efforts in this area lately. Since this was a random attack, we could learn little more from them, and dropped the bodies overboard.

(OOC encounter notes: 2 elementals cr7 – probably too high – 3 archers cr3, no credit for mage or the monks, overall EL7. There were 3 composite longbows on the archers for loot and not much else.)

Fortunately the rest of the journey was much more tranquil. It was nice to spend a fortnight simply playing and studying and relaxing. I can’t remember the last time I just had a chance to enjoy the sunrise. Scorch scribbled and cackled every few days. Dravot rarely came on deck. And the rest of us enjoyed the journey. The crew was remarkably tolerant while I got my harp and myself in tune. I did manage to get some time out of him to discuss customs and protocols but that was about all.

A few days before we were due to make port, I discussed something with Dravot and the others. Given that we were known to be leaving from Dyvers and known to be heading for Ahlissa and Dravot’s home, it was fairly easy to figure that we would be landing in Prymp. How simple would it be for a man to sit at the docks and wait for four humans, two elves, a giant wolf and a kobold to show up? We thought perhaps we should at least attempt to make things more difficult for our pursuers. About five miles before reaching Prymp, we leapt overboard, buoyed by water walking. We simply walked onto land and planned to slip away from Prymp quietly. Unfortunately we had some difficulty in acquiring horses but we were finally able to procure some, albeit at an unreasonable price. 

We mounted up and rode across the countryside, avoiding inns and the like. We were hoping to avoid being noticed until we arrived at Hexpools. It was a three day ride before we saw the city. While it was certainly no Greyhawk, it was a well developed trade city. It was one of the first cities reclaimed after Ivid’s reign and had some semblance of sanity return to it. The city watch was unsurprisingly concerned about our arrival, but this time they were set at ease when they saw the Cleric of Pelor. Dravot commented that there was more of a military presence than he was used to seeing, but given the bandits in the area I did not find this surprising.

Dravot wanted to stop long enough to see if Bellamy was here. We went to the church and Dravot was received welcomely. (Direct quote from Wizardru, don’t ask me  ) We are told by a minor acolyte that Bellamy was not there but was at Dravot’s family estates. The fellow clearly knew more of the situation than he was prepared to say, out of some sense of decorum. Seems he did not feel that he was the proper person to talk to Dravot about these matters.

Dravot did not seem to have the resolve to argue with the man. Whatever he knew, I thought it would be important for Dravot to know it, so I decided to get involved. Now while I may be of high birth, I rarely think much of it. But this little man truly annoyed me, and I drew out a few lessons from my father on dealing with such individuals. While my minimal station may have had little meaning here, my father always said that it was more the man than the title. I proceeded to explain to this fellow how important it was for Dravot to have a full understanding of the facts, having been gone so long. And how terrible it would be if something unfortunate happened and Dravot could not act, due to a lack of information. He did not feel it was appropriate for him to be telling Dravot these things. But he quickly saw things my way, and took Dravot aside to reveal whatever he knew.

Dravot did not tell us what the man had said. I was not pleased at this. After I had convined the man to speak plainly I was annoyed that Dravot would not do the same. Family matter or not, if he wants my help with this, he had better be more forthcoming, and soon.

We told the man we would stay the night in Hexpools and proceed on to Brendenford (where the family manor is) in the morning. We left the church and proceeded immediately to Brendenford. If there were people on our heels, perhaps they would be thrown off by this misdirection. If not, then there was no harm done.

As we got closer to Brendenford, we saw fewer patrols on the roads. We did come across ten heads on spikes as we got closer to town. They had probably been put there within the week, and had only a single ribbon as explanation. Dravot said it was the colors of house Reynard – a minor house with claims in the area.

The area is densely forested on the way to Brendenford. Finally we come to the Old Ford Gate, one of the three main gates into town. There were ten heavily armed guards at the entrance, wearing Dravot’s household colors. Near the river outside of town was a halfling encampment. In a display I’m becoming all too familiar with, and no small bit weary of, they began drawing weapons as we approached and calling for reinforcements. One of them, Euphamis, recognized “the young Lord Dravot” and told them to stand down. They bowed and scraped according to custom and we moved on.

Down the Old Ford Road was a large temple of Pelor. It was fairly filled with people at that time of day. Dravot muttered a comment about the townsfolk looking more disheveled than he remembered, and the street being far more noisy than he recalls. I’m not sure if that was true or Dravot was just the victim of memory’s hesitance to remember the bad points it encounters. One thing I found odd – even our strange group did not generate much comment. In such a small town I would not have been surprised to have all activity come to a halt as we came down the road.

We turned up East Gate Way towards the keep. It’s really more of a manor house with some light fortifications around it. Valanthe and I both spotted someone moving across the rooftops, but lacking any way to pursue, we simply let it go.

The crowd got thicker as we closed on the keep. Dravot suddenly realized it was almost Firemeet and hence time for the festival, and that would explain the number of people. It does seem odd that they’re not very festive though. Jozan and Rackhir hear a horse moving ahead, riding urgently. It turns out to be Bellamy – he tried to get to us through the crowd and yelled at Dravot “You must leave town! Do not give in to what they ask for!” He then falls forward in his saddle, a crossbow bolt in his back.

The bolt seemed to come from above and ahead somewhere. Most of the townsfolk scattered quickly except several who oddly did not. We hardly had time to notice before those lingerers turned into wererats and moved to surround us and Bellamy.

Dravot quickly rode up and healed Bellamy. Valanthe used her new boots and climbed up to the roof in search of the sniper. Scorch dropped a web and entangled half the wererats (and a few stray townsfolk as well). One wererat wiggled free of the webbing and came toward me.

Valanthe reached the roof and was attacked by the assassin who had been invisible. Scorch tried to cast hold person on a rat but it shrugged off the effects. Crescent bit hard into a rat but it healed almost immediately. Even Shatterspike did little good against these beasts. Rackhir and Jozan moved to protect Dravot and Bellamy. I stepped back and cast Shield – I did not relish the thought of becoming a wererat. Our attackers were using rapiers but they could just as easily bite. Interestingly Scorch threw a magic missile and hurt the unwebbed rat badly. Our weapons my have had little effect but the rats were also quite fragile. I shot at the injured rat and killed him – the arrow had little effect but the flames still hurt him. 

Jozan blessed Rackhir’s weapon and energized Shatterspike and the two of them cut a swath through the rats. Valanthe struggled with the assassin but was stronger and quicker than he was and put him in a headlock. As we were finishing the last of the rats, she walked him down the building. I checked his chest – he had none of the protections our last set of assassins did, and I wasted no time in charming him. Hopefully we have our hands on two people who can start to shed some light on this whole business.

(OOC: 8 wererats CR3, 1 assassin CR6, overall EL 7)


*Dravot’s Journal*

What is going on in my head is neither an illusion nor the result of madness, although madness may be the ultimate result. We have been travelling on the ship for the past few days, and the dreams and visions continue. I continue to feel ill and morose. I cannot say whether it s because of the passage of time, or because I am approaching my home, and whatever has gone horribly wrong there.

I have barely left my cabin since boarding. I summon my own food and water, partaking in only the nourishment granted me by my god. At least my cabin is somewhat bearable. I’m sure that the first mate doesn’t mind my use of his cabin for the journey, I certainly paid enough for his inconvenience. Scorch is in the cramped room next to mine, bothering me at all hours with his mutterings, incantations and minor...explosions?

The mark upon my arm is still there, seeming to get worse. I still do not know what it is, but I now have more details about it. I have asked Jozan for his help in this matter. I did not want to do so, but I know that he is a pious man, raised to appreciate the splendor of Pelor, and that he might help me shed some light upon this dread mark. We tried to cast protection from evil upon me, but that did nothing at all. Next Jozan tried his paladin healing ability on my arm, but that resulted in actual injury. The last thing we tried was the thing I dreaded the most - detect undead upon myself. I could have done so earlier, alone, but even though I don’t want to share this with anyone, I couldn’t face this myself.

Jozan offered to cast the spell, but I refused. I had to do this for myself. I cast the spell and found that I had the taint of the undead upon me, radiating from the mark on the arm. I promptly vomited up the contents of my stomach. How could this be? I do not understand. I try to be a pious man, I devote my life and my works to Pelor, and his continuing pursuit against the undead, and now I am tainted as such.

I have followed Pelor since I met Bellamy, when he helped my family vs. that evil undead creature that killed my brother, Roget and my enslaved my cousin. I will stay up all night and pray to Pelor for guidance.

Before Jozan left, we compared our observations about this mark. I have determined that it is more than divine in nature. It seems to have some level of arcane magic in it as well. It s a ... natural blending of the two, almost a magical alloy. This is quite powerful indeed. Jozan thinks that there is some sort of, well, link between it and some pool of negative energy. We are uncertain if this pool is creeping into my body, or if there is currently a state of equilibrium. It certainly explains why his healing would damage me, and my channeling of positive energy would result in such pain that I would pass out.

As Jozan left, I thought I heard something out in the hallway, but there was nothing there. This ship is probably infested with rats.

I will pray now for guidance.

The next day

Last night, during my prayers, we were set upon by a violent storm, or so it seemed. In reality we were attacked by pirates, most likely of the Scarlet Brotherhood. I blessed my companions, but then fell victim to a stinking cloud cast by one of our foes. Truth be told, I really didn’t have any energy to do much more. Much to my shame, I almost welcomed the foul cloud as an excuse to lie there and avoid action. Eventually, I did come to my senses and helped out, but it was mostly over by this time.

We captured the abandoned boat, and found the corpses of some of the pirates. I asked Pelor for the ability to interrogate the enemy, and discovered that this was a random attack, and that they had been increasing their raids on local shipping in the last couple of months. At least this does not seem to be directed at myself, which is good. I believe that this maybe part of the increase in local unrest that letters from home have mentioned.

Next day

I had another dream last night. It was somewhat similar to the others. Luckily, I was alone this time, none of my companions joined me in my madness. I found myself in a field camp, not far from a horrific battle. I was in a large tent, occupied obviously by the commanders of one side of the battle. One person mentioned that at least 10,000, maybe 11,000 had died so far. Someone then asked about undead upon the wall...the answer was: "another 5,000-6,000". Even though it was a dream, I got a chill down my spine.

One of the men present was a cleric of Pelor, and there was another man in full chain, dressed in red and white. Was he a member of my household guard? I do not know. I then recognized my father, again younger than he is now. I am not sure if he was younger or older than my previous visions however.

I looked at the battle map on the main table. It was of the city of Rinloru, northeast of Ahlissa. Although I have had a bit of exposure to strategic and tactical training through my family, I confess that I couldn’t really understand what was going on according to the map.

On a chair nearby was one of the Herzogs, from House Chelzor. He spoke: "And what of Delgorath and the Hextor Priests?" The cleric of Pelor spoke up, "We can handle them."

Someone then mentioned Ivid the Undying..."We don’t know what Hextor did, but we’ll destroy it."

I then realized that Mordenkainen himself was in the tent. He spoke. "We have dealt with Ivid before, we will do our tasks...just make sure that you and your priests stay out of our way.: He then left the tent.

At this point I looked up and saw a man in white, who told me it was time to go, and I awoke in my cabin, to find Jozan there, keeping an eye on me in my troubled sleep. Right now I believe that I am receiving dreams or visions from 2 separate sources. I need to figure out what they want from me.

We have left Hexpools at the fastest pace we possibly can. It was on the way to Brendenford, so it was worth the time to see if Bellamy had returned, or if he was still at the family estates. My luck is certainly not what it used to be, as Bellamy wasn’t there. Windsor, his secretary, greeted us and bade us to come in, offering us refreshments. Apparently Bellamy hasn’t been back to Hexpools in 2 months, and hasn’t sent anything in 3 or more weeks. 

In my continued state, I didn’t notice, but Windsor was clearly nervous and evasive. Kayleigh spoke up, asking him what he was hiding. He protested that he wasn’t hiding anything, and that it wasn’t his place to say. Kayleigh insisted that he speak anyway. Had I been of a better mindset, I would have done the same, but I couldn’t. Windsor took me into the next room and gave me the awful news. I refuse to believe it, else I would have heard something of the sort. I asked him about any major battles in the past 20 years, but he professed not to know anything. Next time I speak with someone, they will give me information.

After getting this information, I said nothing to my companions, just that we were going. I didn’t look back or wait for them. I just got on my horse and headed out of town. Only then did I realize that I didn’t inquire about the cause of death. Too late; it doesn’t matter. Time is of the essence. 

In Brindenford

Approaching Brendenford, we came across 10 skulls on posts along the side of the road. They had ribbons in the colors of House Reynard. Reynard has always been a thorn in our side, making illicit claims upon d’Chandagnac lands. Given everything else right now, this cannot be a good sign. Are they behind this unrest, or taking advantage of it? I resolved to find out. 

We entered through the ford gates. At first we were challenged, until Euphamis recognized me. I was both alarmed and pleased by the guard’s vigilance. It is always a good feeling to know that they are crisp and serious in their job, yet they seemed almost too serious, as if they had been besieged - not literally but figuratively. 

The crowds seemed thick until I realized that we were approaching the Festival of Firemeet. I then realized that the crowd was way too...subdued for a normal Firemeet crowd. This alarmed me. Normally we would have been quite a sight, especially with Jozan’s mount and squire, but the crowd seemed little interested in us, or in clearing the way. 

As we approached the final turn toward the family house, a rider approached us from that direction. It took me a moment to recognize Bellamy, and I waved, finally glad to find someone I could trust and confide in. When he recognized me, he called out to me: "You must leave town! Do not give in to what they ask for!" At this point he was struck by an arrow from some unseen source. The crowd screamed and melted away, leaving 8 men, 4 in front and 4 behind us. They ... turned into ratmen before our eyes, hideous and evil, and they had murderous intent in their eyes. Bellamy slumped over in his saddle, and I could tell that the arrow had been poisoned. 

I pulled my horse back to center myself as well as possible, and prayed to Pelor for his assistance, for I knew we would need it. I couldn’t aid all of my companions, but most would benefit from Pelor s assistance. Valanthe saw something on the rooftops and disappeared up there to investigate. Jozan and Rakhir engaged the front 4 ratmen, discovering that our enemy had been cursed with lycanthropy. I had a silvered dagger for such an occasion, but never got the chance to pull it out. 

Scorch and Kayleigh kept the back 4 ratmen occupied with web spells and magic missiles. Scorch even used another one of his lightning bolts at one point. I healed Bellamy twice, and Jozan healed him once, and Bellamy was still badly wounded. I summoned a hammer of Pelor to fight for me while I tended to Bellamy s wounds, and struggled against one ratman who was trying to keep Bellamy from our clutches. At one point, I tried searing light upon a ratman, but I didn’t have the confidence in myself to allow it to succeed. Finally though, the ratmen were vanquished, and Valanthe showed up on the edge of the rooftop with the ringleader of this ambush. Kayleigh charmed him with a spell, and asked him to come down, while I looked at Bellamy’s wounds. 

[partial entry to be completed later] 


*Valanthe’s Journal*

Well we all have to visit home sometime…

It was nice to stop by in Dyvers again. Definitely a more interesting and busy place to be in than the few villages that we've visited in the last few months. I stopped by to visit Mother Gota. She seems to be well. The gold I left should keep the orphanage running well for a bit. And, of course, I dropped by the temple to see Ardestor. Same as he always is. You know, for all the lecturing that clerics do, how do they have time to do anything else? Yeah, yeah, I know he worries and means well. After I gave him the details of the last trip and my experiences, he's probably worrying more. (He'll probably blame that gray hair on me). Unfortunately he doesn't really know anything about the Shadow King and what is happening with my newfound abilities. I really hope I get some kind of information soon.

But anyway, we got to unload our items for sale. We got some really good income from them. I must be going soft though. I didn't even skim a single GP. Ardestor's lectures must be wearing off on me. I did a little shopping for me, but as for my companions… well I think we put a dent in the Mithril market. 

Unfortunately it seems that we are marked for trouble. It really seems to be following us now. And Dravot seems to be the link to all this. Someone wants him bad. The Ogres and Brotherhood from the tavern brawl we tracking him with some kind of magic arrow. I wonder if this is all related to his troubles back home…

Well, we got a ship bound for Ahlissa. I am hoping that we can't be tracked as easily.

Sailing, sailing…

The boat ride started out uneventful. Most of us found ways to keep busy. Scorch locked himself up in his little broom closet of a cabin. Except for the occasional "boom" and a black cloud of stinky smoke, you wouldn't have really known he was here. Kayleigh and Jozan spent some time studying the arrow that was meant to track Dravot and found that it won't track you if you just draw a symbol on you, it seems top be much more choosy than that. Rackhir (what did he do? I can't remember)

I sorta worry about Dravot. Having those dreams/visions is sorta shaking him up. He spent his time locked away in his cabin. He only came out to discuss a few matter with Jozan, which I happened to "overhear". Jeez poor Dravot, got that symbol on his arm and now he's turned a little bit undead. Ewww.

And me? Well I decided to keep in shape by helping the crew in the rigging. It's kinda fun swinging around up there. And I thought it was time to help Meepo out a bit. He's definitely got more of my veins in him than a paladin. Noble intentions are nice, but it's not for everybody. You have to learn to use what talents you got the best you can. See Meepo just needs a few pointers in how to hide better and wait for the right opportunity to strike and make the most of his attack. Once he gets a bit better I think that'll give him a little more confidence, it'll be good for the little guy. He's not really as bad as everyone thinks. He did save Scorch from the Great Ulf and his wolves. Snicker.

So much for a peaceful trip…

Well, there we were, just sailing along. You think we could stay outta trouble for a bit? Guess again. You'd think we pissed off some gods or such. Anyway, blam! Here comes a smaller vessel with archers and a mage. Oh yeah, and a few water elemental pals of theirs. Well, I know where my weaknesses are. Up the riggings I go (that practice came in useful now). I figured I'd I'm better off trying to plink the mage and his archers. Trying was the operative word there. I think I'd better spend more time with a bow; I'm a bit rusty.

After a bit of a skirmish, we managed to take them out. All except the mage and another, who grab this big blue crystal and dove into the sea and disappeared. I boarded the boat to check it out and did manage to find this pretty elaborate trap that used some red crystals and such. I didn't really like leaving that around. Scorch knew better what it was and I helped him salvage some of it for him to study. Hopefully he'll find a good use for it. But then again, maybe I don't want to know what he'll do with it.

Well, we decided that the way someone keeps figuring out where to find us, we'll try the indirect route to the city. We left the ship a bit out of town. Now we only needed to find some horses. I left the horse procurement to the others. I know a good bit about gems and armor and merchandise but I'm no nature girl when it comes to animals. I could tell you " yep that's a horse." But no way can I tell you if it's good or not.

Onward we rode…


----------



## Zad

*A Family Affair - Chapter 3*

*A Family Affair - Chapter 3*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience: 1300 each, 250 point bonus for Rackhir to push him over the top.


*Notes for Next Time:*

I have no idea. Clearly we need to get Dravot. Clearly we need rest before assaulting the manor house. One possible plan is to get out of town and pull back to the estate outside of town and talk to Dravot’s sister. She can hopefully tell us of the secret door and maybe other information, and we can pick up the house champion. We rest and prepare, and we can then hit the house, either through the secret door or perhaps some other way Valanthe can arrange. 

At this point we have to deal with 1) the demon 2) the animus (a.k.a. “Grampa”) 3) the blackguard 4) the house watch, who, I suspect, are wererats since they pinged evil. The town watch might be able to help us with the wererats.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

I barely have time to jot down some thoughts. We’re hiding from the house guard right now, and I thought it best to make some notes before we moved on. 

Now that the assassin was in our hands, I took him aside and started questioning him. Magic can only do half the work for you with these kinds of things – he was receptive and trusting but I had to keep that trust and manipulate it to find out what I needed to know. Fortunately he was not too bright and I had some fast answers. His answers made me think he was Scarlet Brotherhood – he used familial references to his superiors, mentioned he was third rank and got his orders from a second rank. He was also waiting for his partner to kill him for his failure. Only now to I start to realize that I may have jumped to a conclusion about the brotherhood. For one thing, their people are better protected and trained than this fool. For another…well, I’ll get to that later. He also indicated they were to do nothing unless Bellamy did something, which implies that he took some action recently that caused this attack.

Sure enough, a small white pebble was thrown at him. The air in the area froze quickly and nearly froze my arm off. The assassin was frozen stiff, dead and I was badly hurt. 

While I was talking to the assassin, Dravot and Scorch examined Bellamy. The bolt he was shot with was indeed poisoned with something that was quickly evaporating. Scorch wrapped it up and headed off to find and alchemy shop with Rackhir to consider a possible antidote. The assassin indicated it was the “special dose” and he had no more of that poison on him, nor was there any antidote he knew of.

Having nothing else to keep us, we hustled Bellamy off the streets and headed towards the family manor house in town a short bit away. The house watch stood guard, and looked to have as big a contingent as the town watch. They showed the usual unease at our fast approach and Dravot called for them to stand aside as we approached. They were uncertain but parted at the gesture of a man in velvets upon the outer wall. He had black hair but I had time to discern nothing else of him.

Just before we reached the gates the town watch came on to the street behind us. They showed some unease at the sight of the house watch. From my conversations with Dravot and from what I had seen so far, it was clear that these people reacted to rank, so the easiest thing to do for now was act like I had some. (My own rank of course meant nothing to them and I didn’t see it relevant to even bother trying that tack.) I told the watch to stand firm and wait and I would return in a few moments.

We quickly got Bellamy inside one of the apartments. When the situation looked secure, I went out to talk to the town watch. I picked out one of the house watch wearing a sash and told him firmly “Nobody comes in or out except for me or anyone with Lord Dravot’s permission!” and rode off without giving him a chance to consider it.

Lieutenant Euphamis was at the lead of the watch, and we went to his barracks to discuss the situation and the attack. On the way we passed by the city street turned battle ground. The assassin was shattered in pieces and the wererat bodies were being burned by the town watch. The practiced way they handled that made it clear they had been dealing with many wererats lately. I paused to examine the remains of the assassin. His boots had something to them and were magical, and I retrieved them as well as two belt pouches that had some vials in them – more poison I assume. Euphamis was patient while I examined the remains and when I was satisfied we moved on.

Once in his modest office, we being our conversation. I provide him the particulars of the attack, and he tells me that while they have seen many wererats of late, they were always few in number and never so organized or brazen. He informs me that he took this position some five months ago when his predecessor was re-assigned.

We quickly establish an understanding and he turns out to be the most forthcoming person I have spoke to in some time. In our conversations it becomes apparent that he is also in service to the Council of Scale and shows me a token of the Brazen. He tells me that there is a contact in the Chatter Street Market, and then proceeds to bring me up to date on recent happenings. 

There are six children in Dravot’s family. Roget, who has been dead for fifteen years, returned six months ago. At about the same time, the father, Anton, takes ill. Roget was speaking of some secret that had to be kept. He brings the third son, Gerrin with him and after some private conversation, Gerrin speaks for Roget and says that all is well and it is indeed Roget. There is of course a stir but to all examinations it does seem to be Roget. The oldest sister, Thora, was less that warm however in her reception of her brother. Kaltin, the oldest and heir, also took ill after Roget’s return, and Roget has been effectively running the house while his father and brother are incapacitated. 

Most of Euphamis’ contacts have been rotated out of the house and information has become more sketchy and third hand. Gerrin disappeared two or three months ago. Sources say he snuck out of the city. However the next day at least a dozen members of the house guard rode out and have not yet returned. Steffania, the young daughter of only six or so, barely knows what is happening and Thora keeps her tightly sequestered. 

Some months ago Thorkel, the captain of the house guard, took Thora and Steffania to the estate outside of town and has not been seen since. Euphamis is unable to get any spies inside the estate and has been getting information only from servants. The servants claim there have been several arguments but they rarely pay attention to content. It is unclear whether Thora was sent out of town or went of her own accord but it appears she was sent. Thorkel took her horse by reign and would brook no other. Since Thorkel left, there has been a new captain – Skankel. He has a fierce blade somehow enchanted, and the man himself is an albino.

Wererats started appearing some eight months ago before Anton took ill. 

Bellamy came from Hexpools and sought to cure the disease and perhaps extend his life but has met with little success. He then began residing in the manor itself about the same time Gerrin disappeared. 

There have been other sightings and strange happenings in town. Stories of the night coming alive and killing people have been circulating. The watch finds bodies but no witnesses. The frequency of these attacks has been increasing, and there have been a few attacks that were not lethal. The survivors speak of something from the shadows attacking. When the attack is fatal, the bodies decay very rapidly.

Most people on the street seem to think that the house is under some sort of curse. 

As for the dark haired man, he is an advisor to Roget but Euphamis has no idea who he is. He seems to be a physician of some sort and frequently checks on the father and brother. (Valanthe followed him for a time and there is an emblem on his doublet of a cleric of Hextor.) People who cross him seem to disappear.

The town watch will support us in our efforts, but their first responsibility is to safeguard the people. Given the forces at the manor, we may need their help.

While I was with the guard, Dravot and Jozan examined Bellamy. He was stable but not in good health. Scorch spent some hours playing with the poison, which had its origin outside the prime material plane. He managed to make some kind of countertoxin which they administered to Bellamy. Dravot then saw his brother Roget, as well as his father. Dravot is, of course, shaken by seeing his long dead brother. 

By the time I had returned, Dravot was in the garden near the fountain with the rest of our group. I wanted to hear the whole story from him, and I was ready to throttle him to get it. However he had already realized it was time to bare his heart and tell all he knew. Much of it I had already heard from Euphamis, however there was the mark. The mark on Dravot’s arm had worsened slightly and was evil with the taint of undead upon it. Bellamy had a similar mark but was in a much more advanced state. I was about to relate the word from Euphamis but never got the chance.

As we spoke, Valanthe kept an eye out for unwanted visitors. Unsurprisingly she found one. An assassin invisible on the wall, watching us. She attempted to strike but still unused to walking on walls, she missed. In order to stop this spy, Valanthe told Scorch to fire away, and Scorch loosed a fireball across the garden. The explosion damaged Valanthe somewhat but it killed the assassin. A spectral hand rose up from the dead body wielding a crescent blade, and then faded away. It was the symbol of Nerull, god of the dead.

Then for no obvious reason, a great wailing arose from the crypt. The house watch began reacting and Jozan was confronted with the sense of evil from a great many sources. Also answering this call was the new captain. Jozan immediately recognized him as a blackguard. He drew a wicked black blade with an unholy purple light to it and rallied his forces.

In all our adventures, we have never had what I would call a “leader”. We have discussed options and acted on consensus. Today we learned the limitations of such a method. None of us had a clear idea what to do let alone how to best do it, and we wasted considerable time in that indecision. Dravot made the decision to save Bellamy and Jozan and Rackhir went with him. Scorch took off towards the stables, intent on retreat. I at first thought he was simply saving himself but was shamed when I saw he was gathering all the horses rather than simply running for it. Valanthe promptly vanished. I followed Scorch to the courtyard.

Inside the house, Rackhir and Jozan managed to break out the barred window and took Bellamy out that way, since their retreat was cut off by some strong sense of evil. Dravot stepped into the hallway and saw his brother. Of course it was not his brother but some twisted demon, and it promptly revealed itself as such and entangled Dravot in the hallway in some type of webbing. Jozan tried desperately to free him but ultimately heeded Dravot’s urgings to flee and save himself. He resolved to let Dravot’s faith be his shield, and joined the rest of us outside.

While this was going on, I was trying to prevent our escape from being shut off. Several guards were closing the gate. They fell from arrow fire quickly enough but there were men in the tower lowering the portcullis. Near the door was the large bar used to seal the exit. I could never have lifted it by myself, but Scorch’s quick thinking enhanced my strength with a spell and I was able to lift the beam. I used it to stop the descent of the portcullis and placed it to one side, so the massive gate promptly became stuck in the mechanism. Even if they removed the beam, the gate would not fall easily.

So our group minus Dravot and Valanthe, rode out with Bellamy. We hastily made for the market square to find our contact and get out of sight. We lucked upon the proper tavern just in the nick of time. We were told that the house watch was scouring the town for us, and that we should leave town quickly.

As for what is happening to Dravot, I cannot say. I can only hope that whatever purpose they have in mind for him requires him to be alive long enough for us to attempt a rescue. We need to withdraw and prepare first, but then we shall have to return to the manor and destroy the evils within.

I just hope we’re not too late.


*From Dravot's Journal*

In Pelor's name, what have I done? Over the past hour or so, as the precious remaining sunlight has faded, I have debated my actions. I find it fitting, though chilling that Pelor's light would leave me at such a time. Bellamy and I have talked about such life decisions like this. I believe that there is no right answer or wrong answer, there is only my answer. I hope and believe that Pelor will back me on this. I will know come sunrise if I am still smiled upon by his radiant light, or if I am cast into darkness and must atone for my decision.

6 months ago I would have quavered at the idea of disgracing myself before Pelor. Now, if it has happened, I am at peace, for I have made the best decision I could with the information I had at hand. I dearly love my little sister, and, as painful as it is to say, would have sacrificed her in order to prevent this abomination from proliferating. I couldn't do that to the entire town, however. If Chavram is right (I cannot call him grandfather...that feculent, rotting corpse is not my grandfather, just as the demon is not my brother), he would have gotten his way anyway. I wonder if I could have postponed it though, then I remember what the price would be.

I know what the mark is upon my arm now. Ivid the Undying marked some of his generals with this mark...originally the mark of the hounds of his house. Later it was used to mark the animus generals that he raised from the dead. Now I know why the mark radiates evil and undead when I examine it. I am half tempted to cut it off...the arm or the mark, I haven't decided yet.

Now I know what Bellamy was talking about when he came riding toward us. Too bad we had no idea what it meant.

I am writing this by my last light spell, which should last another 30 minutes or so. I have carefully investigated the crypt that I am trapped in, and the door as well. I am trying to place this particular room in my mental map of the crypts, but my concentration is not what it was 3 hours ago. When I am done writing, I will investigate a bit more, and then I will pray to Pelor for guidance, for forgiveness, and for my family and Bellamy's well being. I can only hope that the others got out safely, but from what I could gather they had. I will pray all night, so that I do not miss the sunrise, even if I cannot see it in this dark, dark hole.

It all happened so fast. Jozan had just handed me a note from Valanthe when Scorch and Rackhir got back. I barely glanced at it as we moved to the fountain near the crypts for some privacy. I hoped that the noise of the water might help to muffle our conversation. The note mentioned that the mysterious man at the manor gates was a priest of Hextor. I should have gotten us out of the estate then and there, but we had business to attend to. As we met, Valanthe showed up. I asked her to look around for any spies while I finally told the others what was going on.

Maybe I should have said something earlier, but at the time it was vague and disturbing dreams...nothing solid or real. We have been through a lot together though, and even though you don't talk about family with commoners, I should have recognized their good hearts and good will and let them know.

Anyway, I was able to mention the basics, Father's and Kaltin's illness, Roget's return and Gerrin's disappearance. I was about to explain more in depth, and mention the priest of Hextor when Valanthe spotted a spy, cleverly hidden halfway up the walls. She snuck up on him and landed a blow on his body. Rackhir quickly fired a shot and hit him as well. I blessed us and ran forward to give some sort of assistance to Valanthe. I had hoped to doom him, allowing us to capture him more easily, but he went invisible and I was helpless. Scorch and Valanthe had other ideas, however.

With Valanthe's approval, Scorch let loose a fireball into the wall, hitting both Valanthe and the assassin. Valanthe was wounded, but the assassin was killed outright.

It was quiet for a few seconds...then we noticed the sound of the guards heading our way. They stopped about fifty feet from us. Just then, the new captain of the guards stepped out onto the wall. He was pale white, with shock white hair. Jozan sensed great evil coming from the guards, and even more from the captain. I sorely wished that Thorkeld was still here, but I was glad that he was with my sisters, keeping them from harm. The new captain had a sword, much like Shatterspike but it radiated an evil purple color that seemed familiar.

I approached the guard, and attempted to use my influence with them to calm them down. They completely ignored me; the looked right through me. I suspect that they were under some form of control.

At this point, everything just melted into chaos. Our normally orderly party, which agrees on most everything just fell to pieces. Valanthe disappeared, leaving us high and dry. Scorch ran off for the horses, but seemed at first to grab only one. Only when Kayleigh took off after him did it occur to him that others might need horses too.

I hightailed it back to the house, to rescue Bellamy and take him with us. I would have taken Father and Kaltin as well, but they were too far into the house to even try it. I also looked for Jasmine on the way in. I hoped I could save her from this growing evil that had overtaken the house.

Jozan and Rackhir followed me into the house. In Bellamy's rooms, Jozan detected an even greater evil coming down the hallway toward us. With no time to lose, Rackhir grabbed Bellamy, Jozan took rear guard and I took vanguard. I hoped we could outrace this foul presence, whatever it was. I stepped out into the hallway and glanced down, seeing Roget come forward. At this point, nothing surprised me. I was almost expecting it to be him.

Just then he changed into a huge, hideous spider-like creature. I knew then and there where that poison came from. He then sprayed the hallway with a web, stronger than anything Scorch could cast, and I found myself stuck in it. The foul beast stood there, taunting me, calling out my name. It said things about making deals with my grandfather and that I would be seeing him shortly. Both of my grandfathers have been dead for several years, but I wasn't about to disbelieve him...not after how the rest of the day had gone.

Jozan tried to hack me out of the web, to no avail. My silvered dagger also had no effect. I also tried holy water on it, but that didn't help either. I didn't want to risk the others or Bellamy, so I shouted at them to get him out and save themselves. I knew then and there that I was dead. Now I only wish I was.

After a few frantic whacks at the window, they got the grill work off and got Bellamy out. They might have tried once more to come back for me, but I was preoccupied. I cast magic weapon on my mace, and prepared for the beast's advance. It was very fast on this web, but that was no surprise. It blocked my shot with ease. It then shredded my mithril shirt in one blow, leaving it tangled in the webbing.

I noticed that the holy water on the webbing burned it, and I had one more vial, but I held onto it, waiting for my moment. It gathered me in its arms, and headed out of the web. When we were free of the web I threw the vial onto him, which hurt him, but angered him more. He said that after Chavram was done with me, he'd get me. I prayed to Pelor for aid, but was only met with pain as the beast smashed me into a wall to shut me up. I continued to chant more quietly and it left me alone.

The courtyard was all chaos as men ran around. I could see nothing of my companions, which is why I believe that they got out.

I was then immobilized by a spell, and carried down into the crypts. We stopped at the crypt that I saw in my dreams and visions. I saw a green crystal buried in the debris near the door and felt an odd warming sensation as I was carried across the threshold.

At the other end of the dimly lit room stood two figures, one short, the other average height. The short one was my sister, Stefania. She should have been with Thora at the main estate. The pit of my stomach heaved when I saw who the other one was...and he had his hand on her shoulder. It was Chavram. The being who used to be my grandfather. I don't remember him at all, but I've seen his portrait on the walls, and it was unmistakably him. He was undead, an animus. One of Ivid's eternal servants. His complexion was that ghastly yellow I've seen on other undead, his eyes sunken, his teeth exposed. Had I gotten closer, I would have smelled rotting flesh for sure. As it was, the feculent smell in the room was bad enough.

He spoke to me...saying how Father wouldn't listen, and Kaltin wouldn't listen, but Gerrin listened. It was the same voice from the crypt visions. He wanted something...something from me. He said he could take it from me, or I could give it up of my own free will. My father and brother refused, and that's why they are in their current condition. I couldn't give in, even knowing what happened to them. I refused.

He then threatened my sister. My six year old, innocent sister. I love her dearly, but how could I surrender myself to an evil undead force such as this? I would greatly regret doing so, but Pelor's will requires that I fight undead at any cost. I refused.

He then threatened my entire town if I didn't cooperate. It was at this point that I caved in. The life of one person, even my sister was worth preventing this evil, but the entire town was another thing. They depend upon our House to protect them from evil like this. How could I send them to slaughter? I acquiesced finally.

It was like an enormous weight had lifted from my shoulders, but only for a second, as a heavier burden dropped upon them. I don't even know what I agreed to do, but I refused to do it until my sister was safe. He let her go and she ran to me. I whispered in her ear to seek out Jozan, the elven paladin for safety. I kissed her on the forehead and she nodded bravely and ran out of the room. I can only hope that she can get out of the estate and find my companions.

Someone brought forth a purple crystal, spewing forth an ugly light, just like in the visions. I did as I was told, and looked into it, concentrating on the light. I nearly fell over after a moment of looking at it. I was weak and drained. 3 and a half hours later I am still drained and tired. I find it harder to concentrate on tasks. This is most disturbing.

Chavram said something about having taken something from the lawful, from the neutral and from the chaotic, and that this would advance someone's plans, though I know not who's.

I was then taken and thrown into the room, this crypt. It may be my final resting place. If so, I am ready for it. It will depend on the will of Pelor. If I must atone for my actions, I accept this, and will do what it takes. If my path has not deviated from Pelor's path, then I will pray for guidance and strength, and I will get out. I will seek vengeance upon those who have corrupted my house and my town. I will see the foul outsider beast dead or banished from this plane, and I will personally smite Chavram and end his time upon this planet.

My spell is about to end, and I must stop writing now. I will pray and I will wait to find out what fate the dawn brings upon my soul.


----------



## Zad

*A Family Affair - Chapter 4*

*A Family Affair - Chapter 4*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience is 1500 each. Found 2 potions on the wererats, enlarge and reduce at 5th level, as well as a magic bracer of protection (+1 resistance bonus to all saves) and a cloak of armor (+1 armor bonus).

I had hoped that Thorkeld and Thora would be able to provide some information and perhaps insight on a good next step. We haven’t had a conversation with Thora yet but so far I’m not convinced. Last week we had little to go on but hope that something at the manor house would help. This week we just have little to go on.

Obvious next step is to rest the night. Our tanks need the time to recover. I’m not sure if the manor is a good place or not – they may look for us here if they find out we took it back. After we rest, we need to look at how we’re going to take the keep and/or rescue Dravot. (I lean towards the latter.)

Our rat friend had a good deal of information. I was surprised – I mostly charmed him out of spite. Not sure what it means or how we can act on it though. Look for a re-cap at the end after I write this up.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

Evil to the left of me, evil to the right. I never thought I’d say this, but I miss orcs. They were dumb in a reliable, familiar kind of way.

We holed up in the basement of a tavern for the night – hiding in plain sight as it were. It was too dangerous to move with the watch scouring the city, and some of their forces certainly had the advantage at night. 

I talked further with Euphamis – he told me that The Brazen is headquartered in Hexpools. I’m surprised he didn’t contact us personally when we were there but then we didn’t give him much chance. They can get a message to him in two days, and have already sent dispatches with information in them. 

I inquired about the habits of the keep. He told me that he knew little of the habits of most of the key figures, but that each morning the head cook and several bearers would go out to the Chatter Street Market for food and return just before dawn.

And Valanthe returned. She did not mention where she had been, and I didn’t bother to ask. She did however have a brilliant idea – she had several vials of oil of slipperiness with her. These were something that would help us against the webbing of that demon. It was a fine idea and I was impressed. More stunningly, Scorch even expressed his approval. First time I can recall him approving of anything as more than “marginally adequate”.

While we were there, Bellamy also became conscious. He told us he had gone to the estate at the prompting of a letter from Thora. (It was vague like the one Dravot received but he caught the meaning.) Bellamy realized that Anton and Kaltin were both under the influence of some combination of divine and arcane magic which he had never seen. Each afflicted person bears a mark – Kaltin’s is on his chest rather than arm. He did suspect Roget had something to do with it. Anton and Kaltin are both completely undead. They died at least three months ago, the father perhaps five or six months ago. They are completely afflicted and already dead. Bellamy tried to kill them to end their suffering and that is apparently when al hell broke loose. The “thing” in the crypt is something that he had bound once before, only with an artifact and significant help. It is Dravot’s grandfather, Chavram, who was made an Animus in service to Ivid. The only reason they could bind it is because they caught it when it came back for reasons of its own. He and his were attempting to summon more powerful members of his order to cleanse the place. His order can lend some aid to us hopefully. The symbol on his arm however has taken some of his power, as it is a binding of some sort. He also indicates there are others in the city who may be of some help but is vague about it. (We surmise that there are followers of Wee-Jas in a temple in town who might be enlisted to aid us, if approached by Thorkeld.)

As for Chavram, he was a powerful wizard before Ivid made him an animus. Bellamy suggested we not engage him if we had a choice. However Chavram is bound in the crypt. Bellamy believes Chavram came seeking something but he knows not what. Apparently the animus are vulnerable to disease but have few other weaknesses. Overall they are a very diverse group and one is very little like the next but they can all command the undead.

An hour before dawn we slip out of town. Most of the group takes a secret tunnel that leads from another tavern out under the wall. I ride alone with the horses and leave through the gate, trying my best to look like part of the caravan in front of me. At that light, there was no telling who I was, but I still cannot be sure if I was observed.

Our goal was to head to the estates outside town and reach Thora and Thorkeld. Of course it was possible that there would be Roget’s guards in our way but we were prepared for that.

About a mile before we reached the estate, we saw a large group coming up the road. (We had taken to travelling off the road to avoid ambush but could easily see them coming up the road.) It was headed by a mounted, armored man, and there were several guards and servants trailing on foot. Also mounted were two women, one in her early 20s and one but a small girl.

They were clearly fleeing something but it was not immediately behind them. However they were then greeted with a larger problem, as the several creatures burst from the forest.

They were large – easily as large as crescent. Made of wood and oozing with sap, and with vicious teeth and claws. 

Bark blights.

Our experiences and research on these twisted gulthias creations let us recognize them, and thanks to Marcus, we had an idea of how to handle them. We knew bludgeoning would be only marginally effective, and Scorch had prepared some special alchemical mix that he thought would be quite effective against them.

The blights attacked the advancing group, tearing into their horses. The armored man was trying to protect his charges but there were too many to oppose them all.

Good thing we happened along. Scorch announced our presence with his usual flair – a fireball dropped squarely on three of the creatures. We were some 200 yards from the scene and most of the group charged forward. Personally I remained where I was – I had little difficulty engaging from this range. My first action was to try a new spell and I was rewarded by a very nice increase in my coordination and aim – more than enough to help with the range.

Of course we had a fair notion of what was before us – Thorkeld, Thora, Dravot’s youngest sister Steffania, and some loyal men. The difficulty of the battle would like in protecting the servants, guards and ladies. Indeed a blight laid open Steffania’s horse and she fell to the ground. It was about to turn on her next, and Thorkeld was being pressed too hard to assist. The blight seemed as good a first target as any. And this is when we learned something more about bark blights. They are pulsing with sap, and it seems because of that anything piercing their wooden flesh causes quite a bit of damage. This would include arrows, two of which I dispensed into the beast.

This made it rather annoyed with me, and it came running towards me. Fortunately this meant it left Steffania alone, and Valanthe subsequently took her up on her horse. By the time the bark charged me, Rackhir had taken several shots at it, and between us we killed it as it reached me. It also quickly became clear that the bark blights could heal very rapidly.

While this was happening, everyone else was in equally tense engagements. Thora was trying to protect the servants by placing herself between them and the blights. Thorkeld was joined by Jozan and Meepo and they were fighting hard. The five guard with Thorkeld were doing their best to hold the blights at bay but lacked any weapons strong enough to be of much use. 

As moments past, the tide turned. While we did loose several horses and one guard, we were destroying one blight after the next. Scorch handed his toxin to Valanthe who promptly rained it down upon the nearest blight. Not only did the creature find this extremely painful, but it also prevented it from healing itself for a time, making it much easier to dispose of. 

The blights would have easily killed these people, but there were not enough of them, nor were they smart enough, to prevail against our combined forces. Within a few minutes, the beasts (plants?) were destroyed.

These people were indeed those left from the estate. They had fought their way free, leaving about 20 loyal guards behind on a delaying action, and were going to the keep in the city. We convinced them to turn around and return to the manor, as an unprepared assault on the keep was surely a death sentence. Instead we would liberate the estate and work from there. From reports there were anywhere from fifty to eighty men there, but we were willing to try it. While we tended the wounded, Valanthe scouted out the estate to get a first hand view of the situation.

She saw several wererats around – they seemed to be finding survivors and infecting them with their foul affliction and putting them in the pump house. There were no sign of any other troops. In all only eight wererats were around.

Rackhir had prepared several dozen silvered arrows the night before and we were fairly certain we could take this small force if there were no other surprises. We slipped over the low wall in a secluded area near the house and attacked. While Jozan and Thorkeld moved up, I opened fire. I landed two arrows in a wererat’s back before he knew what hit him and he fell over dead with hardly a groan. Before they realized it, we attacked in force and a few more rats died, and Scorch contained two more in a web.

The remaining ones, when they gathered their wits, ran. Each of the runners was chased down and killed, and I smiled only slightly as I saw Jozan charging after a wererat across the grounds. As he was about to run him down, I fired and killed him. Crescent seemed disappointed but not horribly so. I think he just enjoyed the exercise.

In short, the squad of wererats was dealt with quickly and effectively.

While webbed, one of the wererats consumed a potion and proceeded to stand very still. He seemed to be under the impression that he was invisible or something. I couldn’t help but be amused, and he began ranting at the other wererat in the web. “You said that someone couldn’t detect me!” Obviously he bought the potion from his comrade. At that point it became clear to me that this genius of a fellow would need further talking to.

We released the captives, and discussed the need to cure them of the possible lycanthropy. We also examined our captives. I suggested that there was time to cure the captives, but these men were afflicted now and could be of some help if they were unwilling victims. Thorkeld and Jozan each cured one of the disease, and we learned that no, they were indeed evil men and not particularly helpful. Scorch attempted to charm one but failed, and the former wererat seemed to be beaming about some magic item that was protecting him but was unwilling to reveal what it was.

A simple detect magic showed me a magic bracer on his wrist. I removed it and then charmed him myself.

He reveals that Commander Tharsh said they were to stay here and make more ratfolk and they were going to tell someone that they needed more help.

When asked why they were there, he said they were honoring the contract. There was his people – Iuz’s second tier, as well as Chavram, the scarlet brotherhood, and the evil Druids of Vecna. (Iuz's inner circle is called the Greater Boneheart, the outer circle is the Lesser Boneheart, and there is a third tier. The Blackguard leads the wererats, and the Blackguard answers to The Viper, a member of the Lesser Boneheart. 

As a whole, they are looking for something – big rings. He said they were seeking some desert type thing – shieks, califs something. Jozan said “Djinn” and he said yeah that was it.

He also seemed clear that they were all expecting to turn on each other sooner or later and they were just waiting for the inevitable in that area. His ambition is rather limited and his only goal in life is to go with the flow and avoid having his skull decorating the road to Dorakaa.

We’ve moved back to the estate house to tend our wounds but I’m uncertain if it’s good that we stay here or not. The estate has nothing useful to us in terms of weapons or magical items, or even wealth that we could turn towards the battle ahead.

He also said that when some of the house guard saw that the wererats were . . . well . . . wererats, they ran off. This tells me that some of the house guard may consider themselves loyal and be unaware of the evil in their midst. If we can reveal the true nature of things, we may be able to turn a significant number of them to our cause.

What is next I cannot say, but we should likely marshal our allies and then attempt to rescue Dravot.

However looking at the larger picture, it seems we have some new pieces to put in. The major factions include:

Vecna, his worshipers and Druids, responsible for the Gulthias Tree, and the associated horrors spawning from it.
Therizdun and the Scarlet Brotherhood
Iuz, and his forces, including the first tier (the powerful wizards and clerics who are closest to him) and the second tier (that this thug is part of.)
Chavram – it is unclear if he is part of one of these groups or independent or in an equal relationship with them.
Hextor, and his cleric Sebastian. This may be part of Chavram and his area of influence.

They are seeking something, Djinn according to the lackey. The mention of “big rings” is also there but unclear. I remember Valanthe’s encounter with the old Sule god, and his warning of the Tripartate, and I wonder if this is somehow related.

Regardless of what they seek, they are clearly working together under some contract. This explains a great deal of the crossing over of resources we have seen. None of them trust the other, which is hardly surprising given their natures. But what each will gain is unclear as well as specifics of their objective and plans to achieve them. One thing that may well be of use is that since they all expect each other to backstab, we can perhaps turn that to our advantage. If we can convince them that the treachery has begun, their wrath might turn on each other, preventing any one from accomplishing what they together sought to do.

If this is in fact some kind of unholy alliance, it could be the most fearsome thing the world has seen since the Rain of Colorless Fire. I can only hope that the forces of good will come together in equal measure to stop them. We must relay this information to The Brazen and Lord Gelban as quickly as possible.


*Jozan’s Journal*

I worry about Dravot. That beast that had taken him was hideous, an abomination that must be cleansed, and soon. Hopefully before Something happens to Dravot. I pray to Her that nothing happens that would mean fighting Dravot. He's been a stalwart companion, if not a bit tight-lipped about a few things that may help us now. 

But it is now nightfall, and my companions are holed up in the basement of a bar in the city, knowing the guards are hunting for us as we wait. Our hosts have assured us we won't be found here, and the decision is made to move but an hour before dawn. Poor Crescent, this can't be comfortable for him. Even he can sense a wrongness in the city. Meepo is doing his best to sooth him while I take the time perform the rituals and pray. I wish there was a temple here, or at least the ability to do this outside, but the basement of a tavern will have to do. There is a peace to be found in the rituals, even down here. 

In addition to the usual prayers, I also asked for, and received somewhat, a boon. Not really for myself, but we had known for some time now that someone has been sending dreams to Dravot, And since that is Her province, I asked if I could communicate with Dravot in a similar fashion. If nothing else, see if he was alright, and give him some hope. I'm afraid I wasn't wholly successful, or perhaps Dravot never slept that night, but I didn't reach him. I did have a vision, of sorts. As I find myself in a dream, I dream of a shadowed figure with two daggers leap through me, and disappear into the blackness. Another man, in a robe wearing a ring almost painful to look at. And lastly, a crowed of people, in deep shadow. I didn't recognize any of them, but perhaps they are people I should look out for in the future. As soon as it started, it was done. I woke, and reflected. After several hours of trance, I woke and made a second attempt at contact. A lot of what is happening is centered on Dravot, and any information about what has happened would help. Alas, I could not focus my attention that morning, and began making preparations for leaving the city. 

We made our exit through a hidden tunnel, with Kayleigh leading the horses alone through the streets. We caught up with her, and made our way to the remote estate. 

*Dravot’s Journal*

GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!!!!!!

[Dravot's character played his new cohort Thorkeld for this night while Dravot rotted away  ]


----------



## Zad

*A Family Affair - Chapter 5*

*A Family Affair - Chapter 5*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience is 860.

2 gems were worth 870gp total, the gold was 600gp.


*Notes for Next Time:*

This is the big fight scene! The forces of goodness descend upon the evil infestation and all that. Wizardru wants all players present and word is that Jay cannot make next week.

We have a pretty good sized army to work with and I’m encouraged by that. The low level priests may be able to provide some buffs for us too and free up spell slots. 

Some obvious plans include the main assault force and a smaller force that somehow opens a gate for them to come through. We could also consider opening a hole in the outer wall, either with stone shape or with the explosives from the ship. Depending on how things work we could also take a force in through the secret door.

Dravot is safe (at least we think it’s Dravot…) so no subtlety is required. We go it hot and we kick evil’s butt. (Yeah right.) We can plan on the list in more detail.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

So much to understand, so little time. In trying to get a handle on the situation, Thorkeld kept muttering about missing men. We stopped a moment to understand what he meant. Apparently there were over a hundred men of Roget’s on the estate, and 25 or so of his when the mess broke out. After Thorkeld and his team escaped, the remaining men made a break for it. According to Joel the former wererat, a group of about 25 of their men was sent after them. His group was left here to gather the survivors and convert them, and Commander Tharsh went for “help”. Unfortunately Joel didn’t know what kind of help or from where.

Give the timing, we could try to run down the force pursuing Thorkeld’s men, but we’d need to be quick. As we were riding from the house, Thorkeld reeled – he had received a magical message of some kind from a friend of his at the temple of Wee Jas that was from Dravot. He had escaped and wanted to know where to meet us. We were able to reply with a brief message and told him to wait there.

We then went after the remainder of Thorkeld’s men. Fortunately neither his men nor the pursuing force made much effort to hide their direction, and we were able to pursue easily. But after a short ride from the estate we broke into a clearing and were surprised to find another battle. It seems that the pursuing ratmen had been wiped out utterly. Some wounds were by the sword or other conventional weapon, while others were from claws or teeth. A few wererats were impaled against trees with an obsidian dagger driven into their throat. There were only a couple of Thorkeld’s men among the bodies – someone else had clearly intervened. Thorkeld had a vague recollection of a group of assassins – Midnight Darkness that used such daggers. They were some kind of political movement but he could not recall more. Valanthe theorized that this may be the work of the “good” shadows. Given there were no tracks leaving this area, it means both the unknown attackers and the survivors were spirited away by some means, which adds weight to her theory. We searched the bodies quickly since it was clear that the attackers had not. We found a cache of gold 

We quickly returned to the estate. We were sure it was not safe to remain for very long, but there could be things here that would help us in the coming battles. When we asked Thora and Thorkeld if there was anything on the estate that could be of help – armor, weapons, magical artifacts, gold, and so on, they told us of the Cache d'Chandagnac. The cache was a group of family treasures which included a suit of armor, and some other item. Unfortunately Thora did not know where it was or even what it was. It seems this was a privilege reserved for the heir only. When things started becoming strange, Kaltin hid the cache and did not tell anyone where it was. Also the armor had some property that made it difficult to detect when it was stored.

Lacking any other choice, we split up and began searching the house. Valanthe and Scorch checked the library while Jozan and I looked for references or other hints. Thora showed us a tapestry depicting one of their ancestors in a golden armor. Around his head were two curious pink points of light that seemed out of place. The tapestry was in the reception area and we searched the area thoroughly.

Meanwhile in the library, Scorch had detected no magic. In the search, Valanthe found an odd assortment of books that had been pulled out and examined. This would not seem odd until later when we found Dravot and he reported similar texts under study in the crypt. Also there were a few tomes notably absent. Valanthe also came to realize there was a great deal of dust in the area, though there was no reason for it. Her hand went into the empty spot and found a book that had been rendered invisible, and in another empty spot a second one. There was a mechanical lock on the book but it was difficult to work on without being seen.

Scorch came into the reception area where I was and reported the findings and was still looking for magic. He found some behind the tapestry we were examining. One of the sandbags holding up the tapestry was in fact not sand at all but some kind of magical dust. Confident in what he’d found, he returned to the library and sprinkled some of the dust on the invisible tomes and they appeared. Valanthe was then able to carefully open the locks.

In one was a small golden cube. The hue matched the armor and it had the crest of the family engraved on it. Surely the armor in some kind of stored state. In the other book were two dull grey crystals wrapped in a cloth. After seeing the tapestry, I took a guess and tossed on into the air near my head, where it immediately turned a pinkish color and floated around me merrily. Ion stones.

Turning our attention to the armor, we debated some ideas about opening it. Then I examined the cube and looked for a spot where a signet ring might fit. Sure enough, there was such an impression, and that was likely the way to open the armor. 

While there was no ready supply of cash on the estate there were letters of mark, and Thora provided four to us. A fifth she kept for herself, and took the remaining guards and servants to a nearby farmhouse for safety. She also gave us several divine scrolls she had stashed away and had not had time to retrieve earlier. We departed the estate quickly after that, fearing that another force would return.

Our next task was to find Dravot. We returned to the city quickly and entered the way we had left. This time I took the precaution of using a new spell to alter my appearance to that of a human male, and took the horses in. We slipped to the temple without incident and found Dravot.

His experiences were most disturbing. He indeed saw his grandfather who is indeed an animus. Also Sebastian, the priest of Hextor, is also an animus. During Dravot’s escape attempt, his brother leapt from the shadow and attacked Sebastian but was yanked back into the shadows before he could be killed by Sebastian. Also Dravot had a great deal of discomfort when he physically left the crypt – further indication that Chavram is bound inside the crypt. He was held in an area with a number of research tomes and books and he found an enchanted book that he brought with him. He believes it may contain some of the secrets of the animus process. Also he found the Sunhammer that Bellamy used to seal Chavram in the crypt those many years ago. 

One odd detail is that Dravot saw his sister Steffania in the crypt when he was first brought in. Thorkeld said that she was on the estate. So one of the two is not what she seems, and we should determine which.

Dravot did read a number of the texts that were in the chamber he was held in. One thing he did not understand was a reference to an elven kingdom of Aliador which, as far as he knew, never existed. Vecna’s name was also mentioned. Sadly Jozan was unaware of it either – the price of being raised among humans. What nearly any elf knows is that in ancient days, some 4500 years ago, there were four elven kingdoms, Celene in the central area, Highfolk in the north, Aliador in the Grif mountains, and Arrisa in the southeast on what is now the Aerdy sea. Arrisa was the seat of the High King of Elvendom. 1500 years ago Celene fielded an army during a war against human agressors. The result was that Arissa and Aliador were destroyed by Vecna, who was a servant of one of the elven houses back then. The devastation was so bad that when the high king was killed, Celene and Highfolk hid themselves from the world using powerful magics. It is only a few hundred years ago that Celene fully reappeared to the world after all.

Having all this in hand, we decide that we need to arrange our allies and gather our forces to destroy the evil in the keep. We move quietly to the temple of Pelor and Dravot, Jozan and Thorkeld sneak inside, since information is that the temple is being watched. Just after they go in, three men go in, all looking exactly the same. Anticipating trouble, we go in to help them.

The creatures reveal themselves as devils. The paladins both attack and wound one severly. They enclose Jozan and Dravot in a wall of ice, but with the strength of his goddess, Jozan bursts through the ice. They then attempt to summon reinforcements, but Thorkeld’s hammer catches the wounded one while summoning and kills him. Of the other two, only one was successful, summoning another of its kind.

The rest of us reached the scene and I opened fire. Unfortunately the beasts were immune to both my unenchanted arrows and the fire from the enchanted bow. Rackhir began firing magic arrows while others moved in. I made a fast dash for the basin of holy water on the altar. Dravot attempted to bring down the shining light of Pelor on one, but it was unaffected by the magic. One of them dropped another wall of ice across the doorway but Scorch crashed through it with a lightning bolt. I scooped up a cup of holy water and threw it at the devil but it was unaffected.

But between Rackhir, the paladins, Valanthe, and the attacks of the others, the creatures fell. While they were difficult to harm with magic and possessed of hellish abilities, they were also fairly frail. As each was destroyed, its body disappeared in a burst of flame and smoke.

After the mayhem was done, it was odd that there was not a single person from the temple who came in response to the commotion. The reason became clear: there was not a single person in the temple at all.

Since I was on the altar, I noticed a key that was at the bottom of the basin of holy water. I wondered if it would be considered sacrilegious to reach in and get the key. I resolved the issue with a brief glance towards Dravot and Thorkeld – they weren’t looking and therefore would not be upset. I retrieved the key. Dravot said it was the key to the high priest’s chambers. We entered and passed through some type of magical ward on the way, which did not seem to mind our presence. 

It took little work to find the secret door leading to the bolthole. A long tunnel went several hundred yards before coming to a small room. This room and the room beyond also had various protective wards on it. It was clear that the escaping priests expected to be followed by creatures of extra-planar origin, probably demons since they expected the holy water to prevent them from reaching the key.

It also occurred to me that they expected someone to be following after them, and hence left the key behind. From one point of view, they simply left the next poor souls who entered the temple to become the victims of the devils, and rather than help, simply ran to save themselves. How noble. If these were to be our allies, they might bear closer scrutiny.

We reached a dead end. We simply rolled our eyes at each other and assumed we were at the other end of a secret tunnel. Valanthe made rather the show of it, closing her eyes and simply leaning on the wall and mocking surprise when a secret door opened.

On the other side were, to nobody’s surprise, crossbow-armed soldiers of Heironeous. They looked at us suspiciously, but we simply walked past them as if they were doormen. Personally I was a bit peeved at how we had been hung out to dry with the devils, and I wasn’t about to brook any foolishness from these men. I asked them where Bellamy was and they said upstairs planning. I walked straight towards the stairs and was pleased that the archers and the swordsmen behind them had the good sense to step out of my way.

We found Bellamy upstairs with the other priests of Pelor and Heironeous. There were some 200 soldiers readying for the coming battle. I was pleased at the number, and more so when I mentally added Euphamis’ men to these.

In the assorted discussions, Dravot took a moment to try his signet ring on the armor. He had assumed that the family signet that Roget currently had would be the only one that would open it. The look on his face was rather amusing when the cube unfolded and the armor assembled around him. 

There is much planning to do, but surely it shall be a fight for goodness.


*From Dravot’s Journal*

By my best estimates, it will be dawn soon. I hope and pray that Pelor has not forsaken me. I will discover the truth soon. Last night after I ended my journal, much happened. I feel that I need to record it now while it is still fresh in my mind. If my compatriots discover this journal without me, perhaps it will help them to defeat the evil that has infested my house.

This room has been converted into a study. There is a desk, some candles/lamps, and many texts and documents. I found more candles and lit them, and began to investigate. I found signs of arcane research, but there were also signs of someone investigating the sacred texts of the religion of Hextor. Much of it was beyond my scholarly abilities, try as I might. Some texts appeared to be recently written histories of the Greyhawk Wars, and there was a set of books about the '400 years war' and another about theories of the Suel Empire. I found a map with locations circled in the Sea of Dust and the Ashen Wastes, as well as certain areas all about the Flanaess, a total of nine circles in all. I have copied the map down to the best of my abilities. I hope that it can be of some use to us later on.

Next I looked at a book, untitled, that is written in some script I could not decipher. It is only half-filled, perhaps a research journal. I almost set it down when find a picture of a Gulthias Tree, and a picture of a twig blight on the next page. Clearly this conspiracy of evil and the twig blights has extended much further than I could have imagined. What role does Chavram play in it? Is he a contributor or is he planning to take advantage of other's evil plans? I must find out.

Shortly thereafter, I heard a voice behind me. His voice. Chavram's. He was accompanied by two shadows. I sized them up, certain I could take them out if need be.

"Do you know how long the process takes?" "To become an animus, you are wounded or killed...but it isn't 
required. I was left to bleed to death, you see, but I didn't die quickly enough. The priest, damned be his name, didn't care. I think he preferred it that way, in fact. It took months. You cannot possibly imagine the pain. But Hextor showed him that none are beyond judgement. My fate became his, eventually."

I believe now that he was referring to Delglath, the mad cleric of Hextor, and a tool of Ivid. He was the name mentioned in my vision of the siege of Rinloru.

"Do not attempt to use your abilities here. I would not take it well...and I WILL know if you use them. These guards are not mere shadows, and cannot be driven away as normal ones can...they are immune to your control, boy. Your powers are of a use to me. Our time is coming. I have made several . . . agreements . . . to aid us, but their usefulness will end soon enough. But I have greater plan than they know, and with the Binders...."

His voice trailed off in contemplation for a moment. "Never mind of that. I will have you sent for in due time. You will do as I command. You have NO choice. Stay here and rest, as the living must. We will talk later."

The shadows stood at the doorway, flanking each side of it. They stared at me and did not waiver. I thought about what Chavram said and decided that I would test his claim, but later. First there was more information upon the desk.

The different books must have been brought here by someone recently, as some of them look relatively new, but some have dust collected on them. One is a history of the fall of the Great Kingdom, recently written, and rather poorly, at that.

There are five books on the theories of the History of the ancient Suel Empire, and it's rise and fall. Two books concern the Baklunish empire. Four books concern Tharizdun, one of which is a religious text. Two texts are atlases of the Flanaess, with bookmarks on sections concerning the Sea of Dust and the Dry Steppes.

I scanned through and discovered references to the name Tovag Baragu, which are circled several times as some sort of holy site to the Baklunish. The Rain of Colorless Fire appears to have been of great interest for the reader. I was deeply disturbed to find references in one book to someone named Vecna (?!) and a city called Erieadan. I believe that there is a linkage between the name Erieadan and the Gray Elves and the Elven Kingdom of Aliador, the seat of the High King but to the best of my knowledge, there is no such thing, and never was. Is he researching mythology as well? I do not know.

I thought about this for a bit, and decided to test my prison. I cast detect magic, a harmless spell, theoretically. I was interested in 3 things:

1) Would Chavram or the shadows react 2) were there any wards or other majicks upon this room 3) was there anything else of interest.

The shadows were uneasy, but there were no apparent consequences. The spell felt odd however, not normal. I found no wards or majicks guarding the room, but I did find a book on the desk that was magical. As near as I could tell, there were wards placed upon it. I thanked Pelor that I hadn't attempted to open it previously. I nonchalantly opened my pack and took several things out of it, placed them on the desk and then put them back into my pack, taking great care to include the magical book with them. As long as Pelor would grant me my spells come the new day, I would escape, taking the knowledge I had gained.

I closed my eyes for a bit, meditating and contemplating my escape when I heard someone walking down the hallway, coming at a steady and determined pace. I looked out the doorway and saw a pair of red eyes piercing the darkness. It was Sebastian, the evil priest of Hextor. I called out to him as he approached, deriding the stink of Hextor which had fallen upon my House.

He told me that I was to become an animus as well, but that his masters wanted me dead. My stomach lurched at the thought of becoming undead - something that I have fought and hated since I was a young child. I recovered quickly enough to retort back at him. I acted unconcerned at his threats, and implied that Chavram was working behind the scenes to betray Sebastian and his ilk.

He was not surprised by the concept, but was surprised by the timetable that I had implied. He then mentioned that my body contained knowledge of the binders, but I do not know what he meant. Chavram mentioned the binders as well. He ordered my death. At that moment, 2 wights emerged from the darkness behind him and raced toward me. I moved for my mace and was ready to repel the wights with the glory of Pelor when a ring on Sebastian's hand glowed and I was held fast.

At that moment, a shape came out of the shadows, uttering an obscenity and slashed at Sebastian's throat before driving a dagger into his heart. He tumbled across the floor and wound up on his feat next to me. It was my brother, Gerrin. The stories said that he had disappeared shortly after introducing the demon impersonating Roget to the family. I figured that we'd never see him again, certainly not upon family lands after that, but here he was, trying to save me.

The priest however, was unharmed, even unconcerned. He said that he had already been killed by Ivid, but that he had avoided the typical look of the undead. A pair of hands reached out of the shadows and yanked Gerrin back into the inky blackness from which he emerged. I then saw that the wights were on the floor, unmoving. Then they started to get up.

A wave of cold came upon me and the hold spell was broken. I gasped at the intensity of the cold. I knew immediately that it was Chavram. "Sebastian." It is not an address, but a statement. "You. Will. Not. Touch. Him." He then told Sebastian to leave before Chavram fed him to Roget. Clearly there are multiple sides to this alliance, and they aren't happy with each other. I hope we can exploit this somewhat.

As Chavram left, he told me that while I was still useful, I wasn't indispensable, and that he'd kill me if he had to. I prayed that Pelor would help me get out. A short time later, I found the following scrawled on a piece of parchment:

"Brother, I'll be back. Sorry. G."

Whatever he's been up to, I think that Gerrin is trying to make up for his previous mistake. I hope that I can speak with him soon.

Nothing happened later this evening. In the morning I will try to leave. 

Later

What a morning. What a glorious morning. I am now in the temple of Wee Jas, waiting for my compatriots to fetch me. Istus keeps bugging me to play chess with him. I may in a bit, but I want to get this down now while it's fresh in my memory.

At dawn, I had my sign from Pelor, and I received my spells. As an added blessing, I found that I had access to spells that I had previously not felt before. I selected one of those to aid me in my escape.

I waited for the right moment, until I realized that I was only delaying because I was nervous. The time for action was now. I cast Invisible to Undead upon myself. The shadows became most displeased, and started screeching. This was hushed quickly when I cast silence upon a coin that I held in my hand. My stealth was complete, and I set out.

It was quite dark. I moved carefully, aware that I couldn't hear anything either. I came to an intersection, I could go left or right. I went right and came to a large room, pitch black, and yet, I could sense...tell that there were 2 things in the room...undead. I didn't like the situation, and backed out, going the other way.

The other way was worse and held a wight guarding a dimly lit room. It stood in the doorway, and there was no way I could slip by it without bumping it and alerting it to my presence. The other room seemed a better choice. I moved into the room, again sensing their presence. I cautiously made my way to the other side, hoping there was a doorway, and there was. The skeletons (which is what they were) then raced out of the room, heading toward my temporary prison cell.

I soon came to a four way intersection. I couldn't sense any undead, nor could I feel a draft that might indicate which way to go. Given little choice, I applied the right hand rule and continued. I only went two dozen paces when I banged my shin on something, tripping and falling in the process. The coin slipped out of my hand, rolling into the darkness. I cursed my luck and sat for a second.

I had no choice, I needed that coin. I backed out to the intersection and then backed up a bit more. I grabbed another coin from my purse and cast light upon it. If I was missed, I didn't want to be found by my choice of following the path of the righteous. I headed back, quickly finding the wayward silenced coin. I also found something else – a hammer with the symbol of Pelor upon it. I believe it to be the sunhammer that I saw Bellamy use in my vision where Chavram was imprisoned. I'm not sure what it was doing here in the hallway though. I took it.

Based on where the hammer was, and how it was lying on the ground, I had a hunch. I turned around and headed the other way across the intersection. I was rewarded with a set of stairs, leading up. About halfway up, I again sensed undead. A sliver of light came through the crack in the crypt doors, allowing me to see two skeletons. There was no way I could get past them and open the doors without alerting them to my presence.

I placed the coin on the stairs, and went back down, carefully counting, so I could easily find the coin on my way back up. I then cast undetectable alignment and airwalk upon myself. I moved back up and picked up my coin, and then channeled the energy of Pelor at the skeletons. To my surprise, they were more powerful than I had anticipated, but I was able to destroy them. I pushed open the door and felt a crushing searing pain upon my arm as I crossed the threshold. I stumbled and fell to my knees.

It was twilight, the sun was about to rise above the horizon. My escape had only taken a few minutes. I got up and looked about. Jasmine was nearby, and I thought to go over to her until I realized that she was with someone. It was the albino that we saw yesterday when we tried to escape. He was talking with her, caressing her cheek. She spotted me and turned, drawing the albino's attention away from my spot. She was talking to him, but my silence spell would not allow me to hear what was being said.

I quickly closed the doors to the crypt, and looked for an opportunity to continue. I signaled to Jasmine to meet me beyond the walls in 5 minutes. I hoped that she would understand and meet me, as I didn't have a lot of time to dally. She then kissed him and my heart sank. As she kissed him however, she waved me to get out, and I took the opportunity as it was handed to me, however cruel it might have been. Airwalk was an amazing spell...I just climbed up and over the wall, and into the radiant light of the sun. I quickly dropped back to street level and hid, waiting for Jasmine to come.

After 5 minutes she didn't arrive. I waited a few more minutes, and was rewarded by her approaching form. I took her hand and we hurried through town toward the temple of Wee Jas. I would have preferred the temple of Pelor, but it would be watched. The Wee Jas temple was in a secluded part of town, and they could be counted upon to stay quiet.

Istus was there, and I quickly appraised him of what had happened. It was clear that he was concerned, but not for the good of the town. This is typical of Wee Jas. The fact that they would grant me temporary refuge is a huge commitment for them.

He told me that the black art of creating an animus has been lost since Ivid the Undying was killed. There are a few of his animuses remaining, but they are in hiding, always on the run. Chavram came back here for reasons unknown. Apparently the process of creation is not consistent, and some look like typical undead, while others (like that foul bastard Sebastian) look human. They may have individual powers, and some are affected by disease, and they maintain their original abilities before they died.

Istus had a sending spell memorized, and for a price that I am sure I will regret, he used it to send Thorkeld a message. I had hoped that he was in contact with my friends. I was in luck as they had met up and they promised to find me at the temple. I now wait for them to arrive.

I was reunited with my friends and we holed up in some inn that they felt safe in. Thora and the servants are safely at a monastery of Pelor in the country side. I am concerned about Steffania though...Thorkeld says that she was at the manor all night. Was I tricked by an illusion? We are unsure. Jasmine has stayed at the temple Wee Jas to be safe.

They have brought the cache d'Chandagnac with them. I am unsure what to make of this. There are two Ioun stones to increase one's armor, and a gold cube. The cube looks to need a signet ring to open it. I surmised that it needs the one that Roget wears. I put the cube aside to investigate later.

I have found out that Euphamis is working on our side, and that he was placed as captain of the town guard by Thorkeld. He is also working for the brazen dragon that we haven't made contact with as of yet. We met with Euphamis at the inn and filled him in, telling him to prepare for an upcoming battle vs. the keep.

Next we needed more information from Bellamy, especially since I'm no longer captive. He went back to the temple of Pelor. We suspect that it's being watched, but we didn't want him brought back to our hiding spot, so we went there, using back alleyways and side streets.

Jozan, Thorkeld and myself entered the temple and found it empty, with the holy relics missing. Just then 3 men entered the temple behind us. They then threw off their disguises. They were devils, most foul and heinous. I hoped the others in the street saw this, it looked ugly.

We stood our ground and cast spells upon ourselves to start the battle. Thorkeld moved up, striking and missing. The devils spread out. Two of them attempted to doom Thorkeld, but he shrugged off their attempts. The next one tried to imprison Jozan and me in a dome of ice. Jozan invoked the power of his goddess and broke through the wall. I moved out and tried to fry one with searing light, to no avail.

Thorkeld did some serious damage to one, and when it tried to summon help, he killed it, foiling the attempt. Another one succeeded, and we still faced 3. We moved to strike down the next one, and did some damage, but it teleported out of the way. My friends showed up to help, only to find themselves blocked by a wall of ice. I was on the outside of the wall as well.

Scorch was having none of it, and blasted a hole in it with a huge bolt of lightning. We moved back in and quickly mopped up the remaining 3 devils. I used the sunhammer in battle and was amazed at its powers. Kayleigh found a key in the holy water. I recognized it as the key to the high priest's quarters. We didn't understand why it was there, but it seemed to be a clue or message. We went down to the high priest's quarters, and opened the door. There was nothing here either, but we did find a secret passage, leading down and away from the temple.

We followed the passage for quite a ways, and found a set of stairs leading to an open door. The room beyond the door had a protection spell in it. The next room had a protection from evil spell on it, and a secret door. Upon opening it, we found a dozen men with crossbows pointed at us. We were in the temple of Heironeous. I said that we were seeking Bellamy, and Kayleigh barged past them and up the stairs.

There we found Bellamy preparing for an assault upon the keep. He said that he has 200-250 men with clerics from Heironeous and Pelor ready to assist.


----------



## Zad

*A Family Affair - Chapter 6*

*A Family Affair - Chapter 6 – House Party*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience for this session is 7,000. Gah. Obviously we have a LOT of things to clean up including interrogations, investigations, general looting, and celebration. But it was really late so we’ll hopefully deal with a lot of this via e-mail. 

I just wish I knew whether we won or not.


*Notes for Next Time:*

Expect a lot of discussion on the list.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

You will never see anyone argue so fervently as a religious man. It was no surprise to me that the argument on the timing of the attack raged for an hour. Between the followers of Heironeous, who were ready to attack immediately, and our group and the remaining members of the temple of Pelor, who wanted to wait, it was quite a debate. Fortunately Dravot managed to bring everyone around and the attack would begin in the morning.

This provided time for a number of activities. The first of which was to contact Euphamis and bring his forces on board for the attack. Another was to be more prepared for that which awaited us. Both of these fell to Valanthe. We felt sure we were being watched and she could slip through town more easily than any of the rest of us. Armed with a shopping list and a few letters of mark from the manor, she paid a visit to the two alchemists in town and returned with a variety of potions and items to help us face down what awaited. Also on her list were some tanglefoot bags – I specifically wanted these to help slow down the bebbilith – and she managed to get three of them. She also paid a discreet visit to Euphamis and informed him of our plan. He said he and his men would be ready, and that we need only signal him using the brass token. It turns out that the tokens can be used to send messages a short distance. (I wish I’d know that earlier but such is life.)

The warded book that Dravot retrieved was examined. There were several powerful spells protecting the book, and the clerics managed to dispel all but one of them. The remaining one was some type of trap designed to damage anyone who opened the book. I suggested that a simple cantrip can open the book from a distance without harming anyone. And not long after that the spell was discharged. The book was partially about divine magic, more significantly about arcane magic, and in some ways more of a notebook of experiments. It certainly deals with animus creation and we may be able to use it later to figure out how to reverse some of what has happened to Dravot. But it requires much more study than a hasty perusal, and will be examined more later.

Another long discussion occurred regarding how to breach the walls. In examining our choices, it seemed only the front gate would provide us the kind of access we required to the grounds. But of course this would be the hardest one to breach. It was guarded and would require effort to open from within.

Unless it was destroyed.

In the discussion, I lost track of who’s idea it was. But someone remembered the explosive chemicals we retrieved from the pirate ship of the Scarlet Brotherhood. With that we could create a bomb that, we thought, would breach the gate and create quite a bit of confusion in the process. Valanthe and Scorch set to work rigging the device, and the rest of the plan was set.

We would enter the estate through the secret escape tunnel with about 50 men. It would bring us into the kitchen which was very close to an outside door that looked onto the gate. Valanthe would be turned invisible by Scorch and place the bomb, and I would fire an arrow to detonate it. The main forces of Heironeous and the town watch would then swarm the estate.

We could not plan when or where we would meet up with our known foes, but we were prepared for them as best we could. We had already acquired oil of slipperiness to counter the webbing of the demon. And the tanglefoot bags would help fix him in place. We also had a variety of potions and spells ready, including Strength and Heroism for the paladins and fighters, cats’ grace for me, and several others. 

After a tense night, dawn came, and our army set into motion. (We had some 250 troops for this, before counting the 100 men Euphamis would have.) The other end of the secret passage into the estate came out just outside the city in a small pumphouse. Since the temple of Pelor was very near the city gates, we would slip back down the tunnel to there, then outside the city just over the river and around to the entrance.

Sounded so simple.

We were aware that we could still possibly be under some magical scrying. The temple of Heironeous was proofed against such things but as soon as we left, we knew we were vulnerable. We had hoped to move along quickly enough to prevent any response, and indeed perhaps draw off troops from the thrust of our attack. 

However as we went down the tunnel back to the temple of Pelor, we found an obstacle at the end. A magic circle against Law barred our way. Of course several of us could slip past it with no thought but several could not. Such a spell does not last very long and must be renewed by someone. Indeed there were signs that it had been recast a few times already. Bellamy fortunately was able to counterspell the circle after a minimal delay and we crept into the temple, wary for whatever was casting the ward.

As we came to the top of the stairs, we saw a shape standing in the doorway to the street. At first it was backlit and unclear but the in moving showed itself to be a small girl. She was skipping back and forth and said “Dravot…I know you’re here. Come out come out wherever you are.” It was Steffania or at least what appeared to be Steffania. This was immediately clear – Dravot saw Steffania in the crypt but we saw her on the estate. This thing was most definitely evil and not what it appeared. 

It did not bother with pretending very long. It’s skin split and took a demonic form, as tall as the ceiling. (Scorch said it was a retriever – a demon sent to find and hunt someone. It was surely keyed to Dravot.) 

We had known about several key enemies that would have to be defeated for this evil to be driven out of Blasingdel. But even so I expected to find a few that we had not known about. The first one seems to have found us.

My first notion was that I wanted to deny this thing the ability to move, or to escape with Dravot. A tanglefoot bag performed beautifully and stuck one of its massive claws to the floor. We streamed up the stairs and began attacking. It quickly became clear that our weapons were not terribly effective, even the magic ones. I was firing enchanted arrows prepared by Dravot – apparently Pelor has granted him some new spells and this is one. (He can enchant 50 arrows in a single spell, and the enchantment is better than average. I’m hopeful that this will aid me and Rackhir in destroying some of the more unusual beasts we seem to be encountering lately. The enchantment lasts several hours and Dravot plans to make this enchantment part of his daily routine.) But even these only annoyed the beast without breaking its carapace and the damage from these wounds healed quickly. (OOC: subdual damage unless it’s a blessed weapon.) Jozan invoked a blessing upon his weapon and began tearing into the beast.

The beast turned a wicked red eye upon Dravot and blasted him with magical fire. Dravot barely avoided the blast and was still injured. The clerics of Pelor with us healed him quickly though and Dravot erected a firey shield to protect himself from further blasts. My concern was with the beasts other eyes – each a different hellish color. I was not familiar with these monsters but expected it had more tricks than just fire.

Fortunately, bruised or cut, the beast was still falling to our attacks. Either from arrogance or being stuck, it did not flee, and when it fell to the floor, we made sure it stayed quite dead. As the ichor ran from its body, it began burning until the entire corpse was consumed.

Fearing we had been delayed too long, we quickly made for the city gates. In the distance in the south of town, we saw lightning striking. We looked at each other with a single thought – the evil Druid. And indeed the storm seemed unnatural in origin. We did not know what they would be attacking in the southern end of town but wasted no time in using the small branch given to us by Marcus. Jozan invoked the power in the small twig and it crumbled to dust. He received a message in return – “Do not go into the woods outside town.” Since we had no intention of doing so we moved on. 

We located the pumphouse and entered the tunnel. We proceeded carefully, wary they had laid some trap for us, but it seemed they were either unaware of this entrance or unconcerned with it. We reached the fireplace in the kitchen and Valanthe opened the hearth. There was a fire burning but it was easy enough to go around it. A single kitchen maid was at the counter, her back to us. Valanthe was turned invisible as planned and took the bomb outside. Rackhir stepped up behind the maid and knocked her out with a single blow. It was regrettable but necessary for now and even the paladins did not raise an eyebrow.

The final potions were consumed. I slipped up to the doorway and surveyed the courtyard.

There were a dozen or more guards at various posts. So brazen had they become that they were not even in human form, but fully apparent as wererats. Near the gate, a large black tiger was mauling one of the wererats while the others looked on. There was no doubt in my mind that this was the mount of the blackguard. A purple crystal, ten feet high and pulsing with an eerie light was also in the courtyard, a pair of wererats near it.

From the general lack of alertness, it was clear these fiends had no idea what awaited them.

The distraction of the tiger was quite convenient – none of the guards suspected anything odd even for an instant. Even after the bomb appeared in front of the gates, none of them noticed it.

I gave Valanthe a few seconds to get clear, then took careful aim. Our entire plan could have fallen apart if I missed this shot. Fortunately I did not, and the bomb exploded.

“Exploded” hardly does justice to the spectacle. I had never seen such a detonation, and from the twisted giggle I heard behind me, I suspect Scorch hadn’t either. The sound was deafening, and the charge blasted the doors off their hinges and shattered the portcullis. Several guards near the device were nothing more than shadows on the wall. I had no doubt that the forces outside would realize that the attack was on.

The battle that followed was truly epic. I plan to search later for an elven bard and tell him the tale, so that he may take it into history. No skulking about in dungeons, no orcs in the night. This was a fight of good versus evil and everyone knew it.

I leapt off the stairs and began choosing targets. A nearby wererat made the mistake of turning towards me and was my first victim. Our forces began coming out of the house behind me and the fight was on. Squads of wererats charged to the gate from other areas of the keep. Their tight formation was not to their benefit, and Scorch showed them why with a fireball that killed an entire squad.

I had no idea where Valanthe was but from the looks of the wererats falling dead atop the walls, I suspected she was up there, putting a blade to anything that moved.

The purple crystal let loose with two crackling bursts of lightning at the ground near it, and two devils appeared. This was a rather disturbing thing and we realized that we needed to destroy that crystal and quickly. Rackhir hit it with one of the explosive arrows we had rigged and it cracked visibly. I shot at one of the devils to help clear Jozan a path to it. Scorch let a lightning bolt fly across the courtyard, killing the devil I had wounded and creating a huge series of cracks in the crystal. The lightning reflected through the crystal and several bolts flew off and either injured or killed anything standing near the crystal. Jozan stepped up to the crystal and let Shatterspike fly – the crystal broke in half and fell to the ground, blackened and dark.

The tiger showed calm but concern. It moved to the far end of the area and waited. Soon, it’s master arrived – Seltan The FellSoul, the albino blackguard. He turned with a twisted smile to several nearby wererats and slaughtered them in three swift strokes. His black sword began to glow as it drank their blood. He then gestured for the tiger to attack.

The tiger was charging the area that Scorch and I were in, while FellSoul was coming towards Jozan and Thorkeld, who were of course happy to oblige. Dravot threw an Entangle scroll which stopped a dozen wererats in their tracks and the tiger to boot. Scorch, fearing the cat was coming for him, threw another lightning bolt, while Rackhir and I, lacking a good shot at FellSoul, started filling it with arrows. Within a few seconds it fell, burnt and bleeding.

Meanwhile the paladins pressed the attack. Crescent knocked over FellSoul and things turned worse for him as Rackhir and Valanthe closed to join the attack. 

Then Sebastian arrived. He seemed somewhat annoyed to see the attack and Dravot, and began shouting at Dravot how the estate and title was rightfully his, and so on. It seems that Sebastian was Dravot’s half brother, if Sebastian’s claims are to be believed. He threw an unholy blight on our forces.

By the time he began reaching for a potion in his belt, it was too late, and the flurry of blows laid him low. As he bled, he croaked out a final request to Jozan – “Don’t let them raise me….” 

And as he died, his wicked sword drank his blood, and glowed.

At Sebastian’s command, a troop of zombies came on the field. The followers of Heironeous fell upon them and sent them back to the grave with a zeal worthy of respect.

Dravot cast silence upon an arrow and Rackhir fired it at Sebastian, cutting him off from further spells. Dravot consecrated the area in the name of Pelor. He was I believe making preparations to try to destroy Sebastian. However a glowing white hand of light appeared behind him, ornate rings on the fingers, and grabbed him. It then glowed brighter and faded away, and Sebastian was gone. It was difficult to tell but it seemed as much a surprise to him, and perhaps he was not taken willingly. At this time we have no idea who removed him from our path or for what purpose.

With his departure and the death of the FellSoul, the remaining forces routed. Some escaped while others were struck down or captured. 

There was no sign of the bebbilith. We have no idea if he ran or was withdrawn. It disappoints me that all our preparation was for naught, but surely better prepared and not face him than the reverse.

We came to the back of the estate to look for the bebbilith and saw the family crypt was smashed. The entire surface entrance was destroyed in a crater. A later examination would reveal extensive caves beyond the bounds of the original crypt. Chavram was digging around apparently looking for something. We’re still investigating this.

Overhead the storms still grew darker. I went to the keep wall to look over the forest and heard a roar. In a few moments, a force of 30 or 40 bark blights burst out of the woodland. I was ready to sound an alarm, but I realized they were not attacking – they were fleeing. Right after them came three dragons – a brass flanked by two copper. They were hunting down and burning the blights.

Apparently The Brazen had received our message.

This was the third time I had seen dragons in their natural form. Calcryx was so small as to hardly count. And Nightscale, while terrifying in her own right, was in a dark cave. To see these three, on the wing and on the attack, their breath raging down on their foes, filled me with awe. I simply stood and stared, watching their beauty and their terror. I doubt I’ll ever look at Lord Gelban the same way again.

I have wondered before why the dragons did not intervene directly if they were so concerned. I now understand perfectly well that they will intervene and will do so VERY directly. Until our message, the nature and depth of the threat was unclear. Once it was dragged out into the light, they wasted no time in coming.

As things began to settle, a runner brought word of the attack in the south of town. Apparently a force of wererats was sent to attack the temple of Wee Jas, what they thought was the last significant power block in the city. The lightning was a sign of the lessons the rats were being taught on why this was a poor choice.


----------



## Zad

*A Family Affair - Epilogue*

*A Family Affair - Epilogue*


*OOC Notes:*

500 exp per person for this cleanup session.

Aside from the rewards from The Brazen we had a few items to deal with.

Bracers of resistance went to Scorch
Masterwork shield (from Fellsoul) will be sold
The evil nasty sword from Fellsoul will be handed over to the church of Pelor to dispose of
+1 banded mail (from Fellsoul) might be used by Jozan. If not it will be sold.
Cloak of Armor we forgot to discuss
Ring of Shield w/ 12 charges (from Fellsoul) undecided
Boots of Elvenkind was discussed and a few people were in favor of them going to Jozan. 
Potion of cure moderate wounds will be on Meepo, the official potion lackey
2 composite longbows will be sold

The dragon hide is more trouble for us than it’s worth, and we’ll sell it as soon as we get somewhere that has enough of an economy to handle it.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

After the bark blights were destroyed by the dragons, they swept over the forests several more times to make sure nothing remained. I can’t imagine how they could find them beneath the tree cover but who can say the ways of dragons. After a while, the Brazen landed outside the town and shifted form to a man wearing simple clothes and entered. He sat down on the fountain in the courtyard and lit a pipe casually.

I simply started at him for a while. As a dragon, he was huge and would have filled the courtyard. He was a bold golden color and moved with a grace and beauty not often found in the world of mortal beats. To have watched three dragons on the wing, attacking with claw and breath, was a wondrous sight and one I’ll cherish forever. He apologized and said that he had gotten here as quickly as possible.

I had a hard time finding words and could only smile.

We quickly gave him the full version of the events that had transpired here. He told us that they had destroyed the forces in the woods although the Druids had managed to kill one of his brethren in the process.

We had a long discussion trying to put together all the puzzle pieces before us. The Brazen felt that the assassins of Nerull did not indicate Nerull’s involvement in the overall picture and they were most likely just hired thugs. We also began to tease apart various pieces of this tangled skein. What I had previously assumed was one single effort by several evil forces is more likely the intersection of several smaller plans.

First we have Chavram. Dravot had a sketched copy of a map he saw while he was captured. There were nine circles – one was around this area, one was around Celene, and at least 2 or 3 around fallen elven cities. 

(Historical aside: there were four great elven cities in the eastern Flaness after the empires were smashed. These were the hidden cities where the elves went into hiding. Most of them do not exist and have not for some time.)

There was also a circle in the desert, one in the barrier peaks around the Sea of Dust/Yeomanry area. Three circles are larger than the other six. The one in our area was one of the large ones, along with one far to the north and the one in the desert. This took us towards the subject of the binders.

The binders were vastly powerful magical artifacts. They created the power of the Sule empire. One was created for each of the keys of difficulty. The first and ninth are the most powerful.

(Second Historical aside: Something that I took for granted but that my companions were quite unaware of, was that the elves first discovered magic in the world. They unlocked the nine keys of difficulty that permitted access to the nine tiers of spells. The elves kept their secrets for many years, until an elven wizard shard a small part of one of the keys with some humans from the Sule empire, who emulated many of the worst traits of the elves of that time. Within five years, the Suloise were cracking the remaining keys and had destroyed the elf who showed them the way. Some time thereafter the first binder was created.)

Exactly what a binder could do is unknown – much information about them has been lost and fallen into myth. We do not even know what a binder’s physical appearance is. But we know that Chavram was seeking something here, and that he found it and then left.

We also discussed the interaction Valanthe had with the hold Sule god. It’s possible he was referring to the Theorparts – the triumverate of evil. It is the object that holds Therizdun in check. (Therizdun’s avatar is in the temple in the Barrier Peaks that we were near when in the Glitterhame.) Each part of the artifact is powerful, two combined are more so, and all three could release Therizdun.

It seems also that what we thought was a cooperation between Vecna, Therizdun, Iuz might not be quite so. We have seen connections between Vecna and Therizdun, and between Iuz and Vecna, but no direct link between Therizdun and Iuz. Each might be advancing their own agenda and manipulating the other. How Chavram’s efforts linked to that is still unclear. 

The Brazen was something of a contrast from the other dragons we’ve met. Whereas Lord Gelban is somewhat regal, and Nasir simply annoying and arrogant, The Brazen was warm, friendly, considerate and concerned. He was dismayed by the devastation of the town, and said he would deliver some appropriate rewards to both help rebuild the town, and to reward us all for our efforts. He seemed particularly annoyed that we had been, in his words, treated badly given our efforts. He said that we could take our rest here as long as we cared to, and he would be informing Lord Gelban of that. As long as we remained here, it was his decision to make and he was very clear that he wanted us to have a chance to take our ease. I found him warm and his concern touching. We were not simple agents to him. Lord Gelban was never dismissive or aloof but there was a certain personable nature to the Brazen. I wonder if these traits follow the breed or just the individuals.

A great deal has been happening. I’ll note some events out of sequence just to keep it together.

We took a great deal of time in examining the crypt. The entryway was completely collapsed – it had been blasted outward by a magical explosion of some kind. There was no fire, just the force of blasted rock. We were able to get inside easily enough though. Once the followers of Pelor destroyed the remaining undead (with a zeal I might add) we investigated carefully. We found two things of note.

The first was the remaining research materials and books. While some of the pages had been removed, we were able to piece together what Chavram and/or Sebastian may have been looking for. This supported the notion that Chavram was looking for the binders. How he may have learned of them is unclear but he was doing a great deal of research on certain specific things.

A number of tunnels and excavations had been done past the edges of the crypt. In a large main chamber was a semi-circular hole in the floor about fifteen feet across. It had been carved smooth and was not of dwarven work, or even a stone local to the area. In the bowl were two grooves, criss crossing the pit. They were very smooth but there was no sign of lubrication or a moving part. Around the edge were small tiles, each inlaid with gold work and the rare white mithril. They were imbued with some kind of evocation magic and each tile contained a letter in the old Sule alphabet.

The Brazen was able to read it: The First and Mightiest, He Who Serves, Ali Bin Yalla

Ali Bin Yalla is the prince of the Djinn.

What was here, and what Chavram did with it, is still unclear. However it occurs to me now that this Djinn might be responsible for the glowing hand that snatched Sebastian from our clutches.

There was also quite a bit of other activity taking place. Thora and Steffania returned to the town and both were fine. Diligent patrols were done by all the various forces but the presence of evil was largely routed from both the town and the surrounding countryside.

We took more time to examine the book Dravot recovered from the crypt. It seemed to be a personal notebook of Chavram’s and detailed the creation of the animus, as well as other topics. It seemed that he was actually trying to recreate the process, and do so in a different way than the originals had been made. There were at least three distinct spells in the book and one of them specifically dealt with blood relatives. The mark on Dravot’s arm has to do with control or manipulation of the marked person. Overall this will take more time and skill than we have to understand. It is our hope to have the work examined by one of the Eight, and perhaps they can offer insight on how to reverse Dravot’s condition.

Lord Dravot began dealing with civil matters. He ordered a full celebration of Firemeet – with the evil gone and the house restored, he saw reason to celebrate, and to put some hope back into the townsfolk. He also had to deal with the question of succession in the family. His brother Gerrin was the next heir but was unsuited and disinclined to rule. Dravot solved this issue by setting aside the issue for the term of one year, during which time Thora would serve as regent and see to matters.

I now have some concerns of a very personal nature now. The itching on my arm that began during the battle with the demon persists. I had assumed it had something to do with that beast but apparently not. The itching has eased somewhat, but there is now a mark appearing on the back of my hand with a slight burning sensation. At first it was difficult to make out. It is magical – some kind of conjuration magic – but it is neither evil nor undead, much to my relief. Scorch and I plan to investigate further. However the mark is becoming more clear.

I’ve seen the mark before and I know it as related to the Elven Champions. The head priest in the temple of Wee Jas has heard of it but has not seen it – he called it the Archer’s Notch and knows it relates to the Arcane Archers (the humans name for the champions). He does not know why it would appear on me but assumes someone has placed it there – most likely an arcane archer. He is unsure of the function but believes it to be some kind of link.

The Elven Champions are among the most highly respected elves. Their talents are legendary. I have only in my most outrageous dreams wondered what it took to be numbered among them. I had never even thought to gain control of my magical abilities until Lord Gelban made that possible. I can’t believe this mark is some type of “selection” – I do not have the skills or training that are the legendary hallmarks of the Champions. So I can only assume the mark is for some other purpose. There is only one Champion personally known to me, and I am not even entirely sure that he is one of them – Aran’gel. Why he would be marking me after such a passing encounter is beyond my understanding though.


----------



## Zad

*Flight of Arrows - Chapter 1*

*Flight of Arrows - Chapter 1*

Strange things are happening to Kayleigh this time, and Rackhir's past returns to haunt him.


*This Week's Adventure:*

During one of the evening celebrations, there were several large bonfires roaring. My arm began to burn and shot with pain. I became dizzy and reeled.

Suddenly I was in a field with several bonfire that were burning elven bodies. Several barbarian humans were near by drinking and laughing. I seem to be tied to a cross, my left arm and legs bound. My right arm is only a stump below the wrist. Beside me I can see a bird of prey in the bright fire light, an arrow through its wing.

I was not in control of myself – I seemed to be viewing the situation through someone’s eyes, and that someone was definitely Aran’gel.

A woman in black leathers comes over. She says that she could kill me (him) but prefers to let me die this way. This must be the “crazed bowwoman” who attacked Blasingdel and who Aran’gel went after. She proceeded to gloat for a bit. 

Then she said “If you see that elf girl travelling with my husband, tell her I’m looking for him.” She then drew an arrow and fired it landing just above my (his) head. I could clearly see it had Rackhir’s fletching on it. She then went back to her men.

Arangel mumbled something, and his hand, cut off laying on the ground next to him, began to glow slightly. I was sure it was not the type of thing she could have seen and something only Aran’gel’s perceptions (which I was sharing) picked up. 

I slowly came back to myself. Jozan had caught me when I collapsed. My hand feels somehow larger than it is and stronger than before. As if it had a ghost imprint.

I tried to return to the vision, but was not able to. However when I focused, I was able to gain an instinctive sense of a location. 

I had to act. Aran’gel would surely die if he did not receive help, and I was the only one who knew. But I was many leagues away. There was only one way to do this – to get help.

I looked around and found The Brazen. As succinctly as possible I told him of the mark, and of the vision.

He thought for a moment, smoking his pipe. He then told me that this news troubled him as he counted Aran’gel as a friend. Aran’gel is indeed a champion, though he does not like it to be known. The mark is common to all the champions – I would not have seen it on Aran’gel as he keeps it covered. 

The mark appears when the spark has been ignited. Just the meeting of a kindred spirit can be enough though sometimes it takes time for the flame to catch.

He also said that I do myself a disservice to think myself unworthy of the title, and my people a greater one to deny them my skills in the storm that is coming. Evil is coming, and we all have a talent – call it luck or call it a curse, to be in the right place to stop it. 

The Brazen was worried that Chavram might return and therefore did not want to leave Brindinford, especially with the people now seeing hope for the first time in months. However he did offer to have one of the copper dragons take me on this mission. He called them the Caldera twins – Hammer and Tongs, though these are surely not their names. Hammer is larger and can carry three, but will be slower. Tongs is swifter but can only carry two.

He said that the mark on my arm is my own, but that Aran’gel my have implanted a spell upon it, perhaps in case something should happen to him before he could speak to you again.

I thanked him well for his aid. Since I believe speed to be of the essence, I chose Tongs. There was little doubt who should accompany me – Jozan had a healing touch, a strong sword arm and the courage of his faith. He was also an elf, and knew Aran’gel from years past, and would therefore want to help. I found Jozan and quickly explained the situation and he said simply “Your battles are my battles, and being an elf in trouble, I would believe Her's as well.” He instructed Meepo to bring the appropriate equipment and to tend Crescent in his absence.

I spoke briefly to my companions and told them of the situation. I also made sure to mention that it was Rackhir’s wife who attacked Blasingdel and had been leading these barbarians, and that she was looking for him. I was quite annoyed with him for not telling us of this.

His reaction left no doubt that he was not aware it was her. The reason soon became clear. He stood numb for a moment, and the goblet in his hand fell from his fingers. His stunned look was then replaced by a cold fury and biting rage.

“Hear me Elf and heed my words as truth. I have a blood debt of revenge upon this woman, the depths of which can never be repaid. She and those she serves are my most bitter enemies. Till you said the bowwoman was my wife, I had believed her dead, slain by my own hands.” 

“Had I known it was she who led the raid, I would have never gone south, but would have remained up north hunting her with Aran'gel. If you are going to face her, I have the right to accompany you. For the wrongs she has done me, make any harm she has inflicted upon Aran'gel seem as pale as the moon to the sun.”

“I know you have never trusted me, nor do I care if you do. I have sworn that she will die and die by my hand, as I have sworn I will bring ruin and destruction to those she serves. In this our interests are as twins, for her masters are behind many of the threats we are facing. Lord Gelban knows this and it is why he accepted me into his service. Even if you doubt me, trust his wisdom in this.”

This was not anything I had expected. I had assumed that Rackhir was being his normal, inscrutable self, and knew it was her and chose not to say anything. 

“I had no idea "crazed bowwomen" were so common in your homelands. No matter - this is not a journey of vengeance - it is a rescue mission. If I have my way, we will rescue Aran'gel without your wife or her forces so much as catching sight of us. Further there is room only for two on this journey, and I have sore need of Jozan's healing touch and Dravot cannot be spared from here. 

Your vengeance may well come at a later time Rackhir - but this is a mission of mercy, not vengance, no matter how much this woman may deserve it.”

His reply was tight and he was clearly seething.

“You do wrong to mock me in this Kayleigh. Arrogance has always been the downfall of Elves. Already it has cost Aran'gel his men and nearly his life. One day it will cost you dearly as well.”

“Even though, Jozan can accomplish nothing a handful of potions cannot, I see your mind is made up and I must pursue this matter on my own. Very well. I thank you for your consideration in 'deigning' to mention the matter in passing and not troubling me with any information on this until you had decided on a course of action. If I encounter any information of equal import to you I promise to extend the same courtesy. Should you encounter Ravenna and survive, please tell her that I look forward to our reunion, but that the Marrage Oath is 'till Death do us part' and that we have parted once already.”

Humans. Arrogant. Impatient. Intolerant. After thinking on it some however, he was right in one thing – I did do wrong to assume that he knew it was Ravenna, and wrong further by mocking him. However his reaction convinced me I was correct not to take him. He is consumed by vengeance – he would pursue his own goals rather than mine, which is the safe rescue of Aran’gel. I have no doubt that if he discovered she was still in the area he would go immediately to fight her, and that is not my purpose in going.

Jozan and I went to Tongs.

Tongs was in the form of a graceful human female in a summer dress with reddish hair down to her shoulders. She was glad to help and we withdrew to an area large enough for her to resume her true shape. As she stretched and shifted, I was unsure if I was still dreaming. She said we were at a loss for not having true wings to take to the air on. (Perhaps I’ll find a way some day.) She too has a charming nature and while sad to leave the festival (as dragons have no such affairs) she recognized the urgency of the matter. She instructed us to bundle up, as this would surely be a cold ride.


----------



## Zad

*Flight of Arrows - Chapter 2*

*Flight of Arrows - Chapter 2*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience this session is 1000 for Scorch and Rackhir, 1250 for Jozan, 250 for Valanthe and Kayleigh.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

Tongs set a steady pace but was not pushing herself. She knew we would need her strength to return safely and tiring herself now would not help any. We were headed northwest, and were quickly over the Relmor Bay. After an hour’s flight, I could tell we were getting closer and began to get a feel for the distance. It would take several more hours to reach and we should arrive near dawn.

Rasha of course noticed no such thing. He curled up inside my cloak and seemed quite content to nap. He was like a little campfire against me, and purring to comfort me. 

For a time I could do little but stare at the stars and moon. To see the world from high above, to bank and turn, to flow through the night sky as graceful as an evening breeze – it was more than I could have ever imagined. 

After a while, the wonder changed slowly to contentment. It would be several hours at least before we reached the site of the battle. I tried to trance so that I would be rested for whatever lay ahead but it was troubled rest. After three hours I began nodding off. Jozan had already fallen into trance by then.

Jozan had a strange vision during the trip. I found myself drawn into this vision. This is what he told me. [I’m assuming Jozan told me?]

He woke up hovering over a flat plane of glass. He could see the moon up ahead. He was not wearing his armor. The plane of glass fell away as he began to look at it. It almost appeared that ice melted away to reveal a maze. Jozan was still hovering in space. He was able to make out people navigating the maze but little more. He began to will himself forward. He started to encounter some resistance as he was surrounded by a light mist. On the far side he could make out a figure wearing dyed leathers and encircled by a serpent of flame. He detected a powerful evil even though the man was too far to normally detect as such. He held up his hand and grasped at something, and then something like molten metal dropped into the maze. 

This may be the same man Dravot saw in his vision warning of the attack on Lord Gelban’s daughter.

Jozan could then make out someone he thought was me in the maze. He also saw someone wearing a shirt and armor made of bone and a bone helmet. He could not see any “end” or “goal” in the maze – it was fairly large. At the center however was some kind of shadowy figure hovering above the maze. Around him three concentric rings orbited. The man in the center was ten or fifteen feet tall. There were four entrances into this courtyard. Jozan could not get closer however – a force was opposing him from the left. The air begins to shimmer in that direction and an image comes into focus. He can see an old man in robes but his skin is drawn horribly tight. Jozan believes it was Chavram. A freezing sphere appeared in one hand and Chavram threw it into the maze, and Sebastian appeared where the sphere exploded. Sebastian then began walking the maze.

Jozan said he could sense me but could not get closer, and his movement was being opposed by two others now. With a prayer he tried to force his was forward. The moon glowed brighter and he made some progress and was now about 100 feet from the center.

The form in the center is continually shifting shape but is always humanoid. Four large statues surrounding it faced each of the entryways. Each is very evil and is an abstract figure of human/elven form. Just to look at them caused Jozan discomfort. The face of each is a smooth area, and on one he clearly made out the symbol of Therizdun.

Chavram appeared to be tracking something. Jozan could see a few blood spots. Suddenly scene shifted and it appeared more of a forest than a maze. When he looked at the right angle he could see an old ruin. Chavram was now clearly directing Sebastian who was in a room and having discussions with some men in brown robes wearing masks with horns.

To the right is a column of rock shooting up out of the maze. Actually it was more hovering in the air above it. Part of the column breaks off and redefines itself in the shape of an elven woman. She appears somewhat old and is also examining the maze. She is not evil. She is wearing some type of symbol on a chain at her neck. Jozan attempted to move closer but seemed tethered in his current area. There were definitely rules here about where and how one could move.

Jozan saw me again, and I was clearly hunting something – my bow was drawn and an arrow nocked. The tip of the arrow was glowing a golden yellow, as was the mark on my hand. Suddenly I stopped. 

At this point I was suddenly in this same vision. I was seeing a ruin, human built but signs of elven craftsmanship here and there. It was more like a human imitation of elven design. Most of the city is overgrown an din disrepair. It might be consistent with old Sule culture where they aped the elves extensively. 

I had definitely been searching but could not recall if it was for a person or thing. Then again the scene shifted and I was underground. Behind me was a sheer wall of rock that had shorn through the ruins. It was so sheer it was surely not natural. A skeleton was imbedded in the wall, the tatters of clothes still on him, of a culture I was not familiar with. I felt a strong magical presence ahead. Also I noticed a great deal of sand, like a desert or a beach. There was an odd light source in the ceiling, a crude magical lighting.

I went deeper seeking the source of the magical presence. There was some damage to the structure of the caves as though something was intentionally trying to collapse them but was not successful. Ahead I see four passages branching off. Then I suddenly began rising up, and the ceiling disappeared as I passed through. I then saw Jozan hovering, lifting me, and behind him a woman three times his size – surely Sehanine. Jozan had felt all four choices were bad and tried to extract me from the maze. As I rose up I saw the crude markings of symbols of Therizdun on the passages, and the phrase “The Lost Ones”. Then I blacked out.

To Jozan I simply fell asleep and then glowed very brightly, and disappeared with the fading light.

The Lady placed her hand on Jozan’s shoulder and said “You’ve seen enough for now.” And he then woke up. To a strange sensation. A tapping. Or tugging. At his belt. Rasha it seems was feeling hungry and trying to work his way to the food in Jozan’s pouch. We were both still on Tongs and it was a few hours before dawn. We were both fully rested. However when I wondered if I had actually cast the spells in the dream, such as detect magic, I found I had cast a spell to change the shape of the arrowhead, but I know no such spell.

Tongs was relieved to see us back among the conscious – she clearly knew we were having some kind of experienced but said little more than that.

The dream seemed to represent the large game which we are now a part of. The major forces, the ones hovering above the maze, were Sehanine, Chavram, the man from Scarlet Brotherhood, and the earth lady, who is something we have not encountered before. The players in the maze included us, Sebastian, the men in the brown robes (Druids of Vecna I suspect – they may be little more than hired muscle in this game if the information in the dream is to be believed) and the man in the bone armor. [Or was he a floater?]

In the center was likely the Prince of the Djinn and likely great power to whoever frees or controls him. The four statues are a mystery, but may be “The Lost Ones” since those markings were on the passageways that I think led to them.

And who is the earth lady? She is a new player to the scene, or one we have not seen before. Or could she represent the influence of the dragons? Learning this will be important.

About twenty minutes later, such musings stopped – we could see billowing clouds of smoke coming from the forest ahead. In the low hills we could see signs of a running battle being fought. At my direction, Tongs veered to the right from the battle path and we came down for a landing. She had the means to prevent casual observation as we passed but we were not immune from detection. 

Jozan and I moved in towards the fires. I had Rasha scout ahead and a bit away from us, his presence being more discreet than ours. Above, I saw the hawk circling. I was surprised – when I saw it, it was still injured. I whistled a brief note and held my arm out, and the hawk came to me without hesitation. It had been, and still was injured, but it was better than when I last “saw” it and could fly.

If the bird was glad to see me, it gave no sign. It simply stared back at me. It allowed Jozan to touch it and heal it further and only flapped slightly. I then asked it “Take me to him” in elven and lifted my arm slightly. It took off and headed back for the area it had been circling. 

We crept up quietly, still uncertain if the barbarians remained, or if other unsavory beasts were about, feasting on the carnage. The elven bodies of Aran’gel’s forces were all on the fires – the barbarian bodies were looted and left where they fell. I guessed some 70-90 of Aran’gel’s men were dead, while some 40 barbarians had been killed.

In the center of several large fires was Aran’gel, still tied to the cross. He had surely been placed there for a view of the burning of his men. He was alive but unconscious. He must have healed himself somehow but was clearly not strong in healing magic. Jozan began healing him and bandaging him while I watched for visitors. A short way away, I saw his bow, snapped and broken. The wood had been aged and destroyed through some foul magic, and the once beautiful thing was now only a memory. I gathered it in case he would want it. When Jozan was ready, we cut Aran’gel free. He was now healed but still unconscious. We also took the arrow left by Ravenna, and the severed hand, not knowing if a restoration would be possible.

I was uncertain where exactly we were but Tongs said we were in the Shield Lands. Even with her magics it was not a safe place to be flying about. I had expected to take him to Highfolk but Tongs said that would be a great deal more risk, and she would prefer to return to Ahlyssa. We yielded to her wisdom in these matters and climbed aboard for the return flight. Again, I called the hawk and it came to me – it would surely not be able to keep pace with Tongs.

Tongs was carrying more weight and in less of a hurry. While the trip here took some seven or eight hours, the return took twelve. The urgency however was gone and there was no need for Tongs to strain herself.

When we returned, Tongs skipped off with my thanks, dismissing it as a light favor but was very insistent that Jozan deliver the dance he had promised. After seeing that Aran’gel was placed in a bed, I requested Dravot to come see to him.

The new head of household staff did not appear to understand the urgency of my request for Lord Dravot. I was able to make it very plain to him that it was in his best interest to fetch him immediately, and personally however, and Dravot soon came with Bellamy. 

They proceeded to do what they could for him. Dravot believed Aran’gel was also poisoned which is why he was still unconscious. He cured the poison and the other wounds and now he simply needed rest. I opened a window so the hawk could come and go, and sat by the bedside to wait.

I’m told that when Jozan found Meepo and Crescent, they were playing cards. I was scared to ask more.

Valanthe mentioned she found Gerrin after a drinking contest that had been going on two days since Firemeet. She had a brief discussion with him but said little more.

Later
After I was sure Aran’gel was settled, I asked a servant to find Rackhir and invite him to come here that I might have a word with him. I was very tired after all the activity but this needed seeing to. Shortly there was a soft knock as the servant returned with him. I slipped quietly out of the room, leaving Rasha on the bed, and went to the hall.

I spoke softly, and he let me finish all I had to say before he spoke.

“I assume you'd be interested in what we found. And I was hoping you could provide some understanding of it also - things did not entirely make sense to my eye there. “

“We found a running battle had been fought. All the corpses of the highfolk had been placed on large bonfires and burned, but all the northmen were left wherever they fell. They were looted however. I thought this was puzzling. there were signs of some 80 or more highfolk dead, though it was hard to estimate, and there were 30-40 northmen bodies. From this I guess it was a close fight, as the injured northmen would have been tended to and removed, while the injured highfolk were killed and burned. “

“There was no sign of your...of Ravenna. Except for this. It was exactly where I had 'seen' it." With that I handed him the arrow.

"I thought you might want to see this for yourself." 

"There are other things you should know. First, you were right. I did wrong to mock you, and further did wrong to assume you knew it was her. It was unfair of me. 

“But I stand by my choice. Everything in your reaction tells me you were more interested in vengance than in escaping with Aran'gel unnoticed. I feared if you saw her you would go charging off, rather than quietly escaping back here. It was a risk I was not willing to take. “

“But I am not opposed to your vengance by any means, Indeed we both have a reason to see her laid low now. Should she cross our path again, I shall stand beside you in your efforts. “

“And one other thing - as I did wrong by you to mock you, I believe you did wrong to Jozan in saying there was nothing he can do that some potions cannot. He has been the bravest and most steadfast among us, and to call him little more than a potion is an insult to all he has done. But that matter lies between you and him, and I will not speak of it further.”

“In any case, I just wanted to tell you what we saw, and to give you that in case it should provide you with some further information or meaning. “

Rackhir looked somewhat nonplussed for as he gathers his thoughts before replying to me. 

"I do confess to being nearly as surprised at your apology as at the news you pronounced at Firemeet. I am unused to being shown such courtesy. You are right to believe that vengence upon Ravenna is one of my highest concerns, but I know from all too bitter experience what she is capable of to those who fall into her grasp and would not abandon one who has done me no wrong to her nonexistant mercies. I would have made sure that you and Aran'gel could have escaped, what ever the cost to me. But I would not throw away my life simply to slay her, her living flesh points out the folly of that. I have vowed to make her masters pay dearly for what she did in their name and I do not intend to die forsworn." 

"If Aran'gel's men were simply slain, then they were fortunate indeed. Ravenna is a servant of Iuz with a particular love of living sacrifices to her master. I can only assume that the warrior's corpses were stripped for loot by the clan warriors who fought with them. The promise of such loot is generally one of the major inducements to persuade the warriors to join such raiding parties. The northlands are not wealthy places and any who would serve one such as Ravenna will not be among the more principled members of a clan." 

"I am puzzled and troubled indeed that she was able to overcome Aran'gel and his men. She would have been no match for someone like Aran'gel, at least in a contest of arms, when I knew her. However, if I have grown immensely in skill and power in the months we have been journeying together, then obviously so has she. I do know this, Ravenna has powerful patrons and allies among the servants of Iuz, apparently they have bestowed much upon her in return for her services to them. She was at least valuable enough for them to bring her back from the dead." 

"Alas, I can shed little light on the arrow. I taught her something of the use of the bow and the art of fletching when I knew her, but this has no meaning or significance that I am aware of. I suspect it is some kind of a warning or challenge to me. Perhaps she intends to use it blacken my name in some way, I know not. If you are so inclined, 
it may be worthwhile to have Scorch or Dravot check it out for some kind of magic, as I would sooner trust an adder in my bed than any 'gifts' from her. " 

At that I became concerned, and interrupted him. "Hm. I had assumed it simply a gesture and not anything more sinister. Forgive my interruption but let us find the truth of this right now" I carefully checked the arrow for any enchantments but there were none to be found on it.

"Since you have shown me courtesy, I shall return the favor. My intention was not to mock Jozan, I knew one of the main reasons why you had chosen him, was that he could heal and that I could not. That much was obvious. My desire was to point out that he could do nothing to either regenerate Aran'gel's hand or heal anything past simple injuries, which potions could just as easily accomplish. Thus according to my logic, leaving the need for a strong arm in combat if Ravenna was encountered. In that I am easily Jozan's equal." 

"As you well know, tact and diplomacy are not among my strengths, I prefer to let my bow do the arguing for me. If my tone was less than respectful toward Jozan, I had just received a shock the likes of which you cannot imagine, been insulted about it and knew I was going to be denied a chance at vengance upon Ravenna to boot. Unfortunately, my frustration obviously influenced my choice of words." 

This was, for Rackhir, a better than fair apology, and I at least owed him as much one in any case and gave him as much. "Granted. No less shocked than I was at the turn of events I'm sure, or the manner in which they were revealed" 

At this point, Rackhir grimaced and gives a look of immense frustration as he says "I have tried to tell myself for the past year that she was dead, that I had extracted some pitiful measure of revenge for what she did. The last time I had seen her, one of my arrows was sticking out of her throat and she was coughing out blood along with her last breath." 

He paused for a moment fists compulsively clenching and unclenching, before continuing "If only I had been able to spare another minute to make sure of her corpse, but there just wasn't time... if I had just known, it was her up there... To have been so close and to have missed the opportunity... but, the presence of my mother's clan's men confused me. I do not know why they were fighting at her behest or why she is pursuing the course of action she is, but she extraordinarily treacherous and deceitful." 

"I admit I had seriously considered simply mounting my horse and riding north in search of her, but eventually I decided if she is looking for me, I may as well prepare to greet her properly when we are 'reunited'. Given the frequency with which we are assaulted by Gulthias horrors, I do not think we will have long to wait before we shall have a chance to revenge ourselves upon her. I would appreciate it if you would have one of the servants notify me when Aran'gel awakes, I am keen to know more about his battle with Ravenna and her men. Your vigil over him does you credit, if you desire a rest. Please notify me and I shall watch over him for you. " 

I thanked him for the offer, which I considered sincere and a significant gesture from him. I told him that as for this matter between us, I would be pleased to consider it past if he felt it was settled. I also suggested that while I know he cares little to speak of that which has gone before in his life, it may be helpful for him to tell us all the full tale that we might be better prepared.

I did appreciate Rackhir’s offer, though I will not likely take it. Not as any slight to him of course. But Aran’gel will have to be asleep a very long time before I will move from here.


----------



## Zad

*The players*

During this commercial break, and since I have time at work, here's a brief writeup of various key NPCs
Lord Gelban: a prominent lord in Greyhawk and the person who employs our adventurers. He is in fact a gold dragon and part of a network of dragons that works behind the scenes to bring some stability to the Flaness. He is "The Gilden" which denotes a position within the council. He gives the party their instructions and provides for them generally speaking.

Ariadne: Lord Gelban's half-dragon daughter. 

Bellack: evil druid of Vecna (a.k.a. one of the evil vecnids of drua) tending the Gulthias tree in the Sunless Citadel. Also known as "that dead guy", because we killed him dead.

Drawmij: a powerful mage, one of the council of eight, a group of mages led by Mordenkainen

Mordenkainen: see above 

Aethelweard: Captain of the guard at Lord Gelban's estate in Greyhawk

Nasir, a.k.a. The Cupric: Lord Gelban's steward and head of household. Actually a copper dragon and also on the council of dragons. He plays the subservient role in public to Gelban, and seems to chafe a little at that. He's a bit of an arrogant snot but that's just my opinion.

Rasha: Not really an npc. Kayleigh's familiar, acquired after the Citadel.

Crescent: Not really an npc. Jozan's dire wolf mount. (i.e. Paladin's steed)

Meepo: um...yeah.

Aran'gel: The Warden of Highfolk. This elf is an Arcane Archer and has ties to the dragons. He was first encountered during the Forge of Fury and has re-appeared.

Nightscale: black dragon residing in the Forge of Fury. Deceased. The second dragon the group killed.

???: There is an orcish druid with a wolf companion that has plagued the group and nearly killed a few of us. His name is unknown. Theoretically there could be more than one orcish druid for all we know.

Marcus: A druid who escorted us on part of a journey. Actually another member of the Council of Eight, Warnes Starcoat.

???: The man believed to be currently leading the Scarlet Brotherhood. Seen in a vision by Dravot during A Well Earned Rest, and by Jozan in a dream during Flight of Arrows. We believe this because we've seen him in connection with Brotherhood affairs giving orders but Wizardru has indicated that this may not be the case. Since we like to re-name most everything we find, we're now calling him Mister Heat Miser.

Thora: Dravot's older sister. Currently serving as Regent.

Steffania: Dravot's younger sister. About 12 years old.

Gerrin: Dravot's older brother, and the apparent heir, except that he's a spoiled, drunk, party boy with no desire nor talent to rule

Roget: Dravot's older brother, believed to have been dead for many years. He returned recently but was in fact a demon impersonator.

Chavram: Dravot's grandfather and an animus created by Ivid the Undying.

Bubba: The bebbilith that was posing as Roget during A Family Affair. Bubba was just our name for him. This bugger got away before we could give him a little payback.

Fellsoul: (a.k.a. SwellFoal a.k.a. SwellFella, full name in the text) a blackguard in service to Iuz, working with Chavram during A Family Affair. Also quite dead.

Sebastian: Roget's bastard half brother. Also an animus and priest of Hextor. He was made an animus by Chavram and serves Chavram's agenda.

Bellamy: A priest of Pelor and friend to Dravot's family. It was Bellamy's example that made Dravot enter the priesthood. He's an older man, and an 8th level cleric.

Jasmine: one of the household staff at Dravot's family estate.

Thorkeld: The Champion of the House for Dravot's family. A 7th level paladin of Pelor. He is now Dravot's cohort via the leadership feat.

Ravenna: Rackhir's wife, which he killed but apparently has been brought back. 

The Brazen: Another dragon, brass by color. He is in charge of the general area that includes Ahlyssa. He is very concerned by Chavram's activities.

Hammer and Tongs, the Caldera twins: two twin copper dragons that assist the Brazen. Tongs flew Jozan and Kayleigh to rescue Aran'gel during Flight of Arrows.

The Shadow King: We don't know much about the shadow king except that he's out there. There are good shadows (and folks touched by them, like Valanthe) and bad ones. The bad ones work for the Shadow King. I'm not entirely sure if the king is imprisoned and they seek his release or not. The shadows played a role in A Family Affair but it was very hard to spot (compared with, say, hoards of wererats attacking a temple.)


Other major players:

Forces of Vecna

Forces of Iuz

Forces of Therizdun and the Scarlet Brotherhood.


----------



## Zad

*Flight of Arrows - Chapter 3*

*Flight of Arrows - Chapter 3*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience for this session is 1200.

After the sell-off of assorted stray loot, your purse increases by 750 gp each.


*This Week's Adventure:*

After two days, Aran'gel has still not awakened. I have kept a constant watch on him and he has not stirred. I've used the time to see to various details, having little else to worry about. When he awakens, he'll find fresh armor, clothes, a new bow and arrows, all ready for him. The bow is surely not of the quality he is used to, coming from my hand, but I hope it will do until he fashion or retrieve something more suited to him.

The household staff is actually quite good and very supportive, offering whatever I need without being intrusive. They've taken to calling me "Lady Kayleigh." Apparently Jozan is now "Sir Jozan" and we also have "Lady Valanthe." It seems Scorch and Rackhir are not particularly titled in their minds. 

Apparently Scorch has been going on about the lack of materials in this town for his studies. They are going to go to Hexpools to find what he needs and let the others do some shopping as well. Jozan and Rackhir go with him, and they also take Bellamy who needs to return to his temple. I declined for obvious reasons.

Later that day, Aran'gel finally woke up.

"Correlian's Grove! Such a dream I had...I imagined that I.....", and as he spoke, he lifted his right arm...and catches sight of the stump where his hand should be. I saw the look of dread realization come over him, as if 
he was falling down a deep hole inside of himself. And then he screamed. I sat on the bedside and put my arm on him and my hand on his cheek.

His scream faded to sobbing, and he was whispering "The Mark…she took The Mark…" There was little I could do but let him grieve.

A few moments later a servant arrived to check on the noise. By then he had quieted, but wore an aura of dread like a shadowed cloak.

I sent the girl for food and to fetch Lord Dravot and she quickly departed. Some fifteen minutes passed without a word before Lord Dravot arrived with his healing kit. He only barely spared a look at him and lapsed into his silence again. Dravot then examined him.

With a screech of what I assume is pleasure, Aris came in through the window. He must have been hunting quite a ways away to have taken this long to return once he realized his master was awake. Aran'gel offered his right arm as a landing, then winced and offered his left. I sat far enough back from him to allow Aris to land.

Aris and Aran'gel exchanged information quickly in their way. Apparently Aris was able to bring him out of his mood better than I was because Aran'gel recovered at least some of his presence of mind.

"I....I forget myself, my manners. Thank you. It is obvious you heard my call. Would that I had sent it sooner." He pauses, contemplating something. "Don't think me rude...but, I must know. My hand. Did you save my hand?" 

I told him that yes, we brought it back and preserved it as best we could, though for what purpose I am unsure. I also told him that we did not have the strength of spellcraft here to repair the damage done to him.

I was surprised by his reactions to this point on many levels. I was surprised at the depth of his shock - I suppose I thought he knew what had happened to him rather than realizing it just now. And I was still trying to understand this man and how we were linked, but more on that in a bit.

"Good. You did me no harm...others are to blame for that. The Black Archer and her monsters take that honor. I need to see if my memory is true...if the mark is gone from my severed hand." He again stared at the stump, a brief flash of anger crossing his face. 

I placed a small wooden box on his lap that contained his hand.

"I was a fool. I thought the spells we lay for protection would be enough...but they had magic of their own, and not just the druid. I do not know if we were betrayed, or if they intended as such...but they appeared without warning, catching us unawares. We killed them two to a man, perhaps more...but they kept coming. Then, the spider came. It was like no horror I have ever seen. It cut through my men like a knife through butter. Finally, we broke."

From his descriptions it sounded like a bebbilith like the one that was Roget.

"They took me alive. As I see it now, they desired my capture, but I couldn't say why. Their leader, the black archer, she commanded them to crucify me...and then she.....DID something to me. She...stole the mark, stole my abilities...and then cut off my hand and broke my bow by way of final mockery. She wounded Aris so that we could suffer and die together. She ranted and raved about her husband, then told me to tell you that she was looking for him."

After some thought, I've become convinced that Ravenna wanted Aran'gel to survive and to be rescued.

"I remember little from then. I had the strength to heal myself with a spell I had learned, and then used my remaining strength to contact you through the mark. It is a spell I know that allows those of our kind to ... communicate, after a fashion. I remember little from then on."

I told him very briefly of receiving his message and the trip to rescue him. I realized later that I hadn't mentioned where he was now, and he never asked, which I find puzzling.

I knew I had many questions for him, as did Rackhir, The Brazen and others, but so would Aran'gel. I thought it easier to answer his questions first before turning to my own.

He opened the box to examine the hand, staring at the palm. 

"It is gone. I do not know how, but it is gone. I can still feel some of the ability, but when she...took something from me, the mark departed. I do not know how, or why. The mark is an outward focus of the spark, but it is NOT the spark. I could cut the sign with a knife, but it would not take the power. Somehow, she made me less than I am." 

I looked to Dravot and said simply "Restoration?" and he nodded slightly at the possibility.

He closed the box, and put in on the small table near the bed. He raises his hand, and Aris flies across the room to rest on the windowsill. Dravot inspected his wounds, and asked some questions of his demeanor. He seemed 
satisfied that the healing, at the of the body, is complete. 

"I apologize for not speaking to you sooner," he begins. "The fault is mine. I recognized the spark in you the first time we met, but I was unsure of how long it would take to catch fire, and did not seek to worry you of it. I cast a simple spell upon the arrow I handed you, one to create a tie between us, champion to champion. It was merely intended to monitor your progress, and to know when the time of the drawing came. I never thought I would need to use it to save my life. I hope you understand I never meant to place you in peril. It is to my great dishonor that I used the enchantment such." 

I smiled slightly at this and said "I'm fairly certain, Warden, that it was my choice to enter that danger, not yours. You did not compel me against my will. You simply asked, and thereafter the choice was mine to make. I chose to help you rather than let you die, and I would do so again. Except next time I would bring an extra cloak." 

But he could not even find the smallest smile. "You are an Arcane Archer, Kayleigh. One of Corellian's blessed, we stand separate from our people. We have a duty to protect others from the likes of Iuz and his ilk, from the orcs who would hunt us, or the goblins who would rob us. Among our kind, it is a responsibility...no, a privilege to pass our knowledge to those who follow, those who share the spark. I have much to teach you, and our time is short. And I am....less than I was." 

So it comes to this I thought. 

Before I could form another thought, the door flew open, nearly thrown off it's hinges by a huge brute of a human with ruddy skin and fiery red hair. There never was anything subtle about Hammer.

"So it's true, then. You do be awake, aye? A long time it's been, then, Aran'gel Brightflame. Sure you'll be wishing for food, soon I'm thinking. How fare you, eh?" 

"I am scarce close to well, sir Hammer. I am nothing more than useless, now." So saying, he raised his arm. 

"Aye, well I'm sure that you do be feeling right sorry for yourself, anow. And maybe you oughts and maybe you oughts not. If you do be needing me, I'll be in ma forge, doing a turn for your friend 'a Dyvers. All the same, 
I brung you this." 

So saying, he produced an ornate wooden box with silver inlay and a pearlescent lock. It was a largish box, being almost as long as an arrow, and half as wide. It was not deep, but when he set it down, it landed with a serious weight. 

"I'll be going back, now, young Aran'gel. You do be thinking on me words, then. I know ye of old, and I know your line, true enough. This sitting in bed do not be suiting you." 

With that, he stormed out almost as quickly as he entered. 

Aran'gel was clearly intrigued. I was just somewhat stunned. He asked for my help to go to the table - he was still somewhat weakened. He opened the box and inside saw a hand of iron.

I said something inane like "Seems you've been offered a new chance."

He simply stared at it for some time, uncertain whether he should even touch it. He then brushed it with his remaining fingers, and closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Kayleigh, my lord. I find that I am still very tired. Please don't think me rude, but I feel I need to rest. You look as if you could do with some rest, yourself. I need rest and...time to think."

I suppose I've been dismissed.

With that we left him, with a maid to keep an eye on him should he need anything.

Dravot excused himself to return to his duties, which lately largely consisted of mediating arguments between Gerrin and Thora.

And so there I stood. After watching him for the past two days, flying across half the Flaness into Iuz-held territory, and near freezing to death, I was dismissed. "So long, thanks for the rescue, things to do, excuse me won't you?"

Or perhaps "There is much you must learn. Now get out."

I was . . . a bit miffed. On one hand the man had been through more than I could possibly know in the past months and in the past few days. He had lost his men, lost his hand, lost his life force. He had much on his mind and much to consider. Surely I would be the least of those matters and it would unreasonable of me to think otherwise.

That did not change the fact that I still felt like some maid who had been told to go away. 

So bothered by these conflicting notions that I'm writing this some days after the events occurred. To give myself time to sort it out, and since I was clearly no longer needed here, I decided to go out. Having been cooped up since my return from the Shield Lands, I decided to go out into the town for a while and enjoy the celebration that I missed. So with that I immediately went off into town. I suppose it was pouting, after a fashion.

I browsed the market, bought a few things and so on. As evening came I took a meal and visited various taverns. It had been too long since I had enjoyed the bards and of course they had some very interesting new tales to tell. Of course now I had the purse to reward the bards well, and I made sure to do so. Partly for their telling of the song or story, and partly for taking my mind off my troubles.

I just wish it had worked better.

As the night drew long, I decided to simply take a room in the inn I happened to be at. Since I was no longer needed at the estate, I wouldn't be missed.

The next day the others returned from Hexpools. And it was not an uneventful trip. I didn't learn of this til later but I mention it now - they were attacked on the trip. It appeared to be another spawn of the gulthias tree. Scorch has called it a Gulthite, and it appeared to be some tree-like type of golem. The leafy covering protected it until it was blasted away exposing the woody structures underneath. While a formidable beast, they fought with vigor and were able to destroy it. Was this another ambush for us, or a bad stroke of luck? Answering this question is vital, given that if it was an ambush, we may have a spy among us.

I passed some two days in town this way, moving among the markets, between taverns, or just taking a walk in the woods outside town. I did not find a resolution between my conflicting ideas, but I had at least determined that Aran'gel had enough on his mind that I would not be troubling him with my petty concerns. But having no pressing reason to return to the estate, I didn't.

Or wouldn't have for a time at least. It was a bit after lunch and I was sitting around a tavern and a small boy came up to me with a note. I looked at him slightly surprised but took the note. I was being summoned back to the estate as Aran'gel had made his decision.

Summoned.

Perhaps I am a maid after all.

The boy was waiting to see if he was to return anything to his employer. I toyed with the idea of waiting a few hours before returning to be difficult, but rejected it and thanked the boy. After finishing my wine I returned to the estate, though in no great haste surely.

One thing was very clear - there were a LOT more people here than when I left. A few inquiries told me why - apparently there was a grand banquet tonight with various visiting noble houses as both a celebration and a political affair.

I made my way to Aran'gel's room and found the door open and Dravot inside. Aran'gel was standing over the box with the hand in it. Aran'gel says he has decided to accept Hammer's gift. I did my best to stay quiet and not let my mood add to his troubles and I had promised myself I would.

He takes the iron hand and places it against his severed wrist. There is a brief blue flash and the iron glows and runs hot down his arm, melting with the flesh partially down his arm. The glow quickly faded and the hand was clearly part of him.

He looked at the hand, which was still extended flat. He then looked at us.

"I . . . somehow expected something more." We shrugged at each other. He then said "I also thought the fingers would move. This doesn't seem much help." Then I realized that the fingers were indeed fixed - I too had thought they would move. He then used the hand to close the box but the box stuck to his hand as if glued. We looked at it and each other. He then released the box with a bit of thought, and then picked it up again and started nodding. "Hm. Not what I expected but this could work…" He then looked around and asked for a bow and I handed him the one I had prepared for him. He put an arrow in and managed to fire it into the headboard of the bed, to Dravot's disapproval. He nodded, not entirely displeased but still uncertain.

Dravot told him of the celebration tonight and that he was welcome to attend if he was feeling up to it. Aran'gel inquired as to whether he would have to be pleasant and upbeat, and Dravot said no he could seat him at the far end of the table.

To my surprise, Aran'gel asked if I would attend with him. I replied "Do I have to be dour and moody?"

He did not laugh or even smile, but seemed to yield the point. I excused myself to get ready but Dravot caught me in the hall. He had not had a chance to talk to me since Hammer had been in Aran'gel's room.

"Did you hear what Hammer called him?"

I thought back. "Only vaguely. My heart was still racing after he slammed open the door. Why?"

Dravot looked around before speaking, "Aran'gel Brightflame." I simply nodded not grasping his point.

"Brightflame." Slowly my mind started realizing where he was going as he continued "Brightflame, such as in Prince Melf Brightflame, kin of Yolande, Queen of Celene." I nodded finally seeing where he was going. Had I not been so distracted I surely would have seen it for myself. Was Aran'gel kin to the royal family? Was he perhaps the Prince under another name? (That seemed unlikely.) Surely this was an important item, but I was unsure what it would mean. I thanked Dravot and went on my way. After careful thought, I've decided to keep this to myself for the time being.

On a whim, I went to the alchemist shop and purchased a potion of charisma. It was a shameless expense, but I just wanted to be pretty for the night, for no one but myself. And I had little else to spend my gold on.

Fortunately the gown I purchased in Dyvers was just the thing for this type of affair, and I took a long bath and enjoyed the preparations.

Dravot entered the affair with Gerrin and Thora - in their rush to outpace each other they found themselves leading Dravot slightly but there was little conflict between them for the rest of the night. To my amused surprise, Scorch arrived with Valanthe. Both were very nicely dressed, though knowing her I could see Valanthe's discomfort in the finery. 

Aran'gel did at least make some effort to not be depressed for the evening. He did try to use his new hand several times though and that had some moments. I was rather amused when he tried to use the hand to take a drink, and found that not only did the goblet stick to the hand but so did the wine inside. I was smiling a lot but he was not amused. I wondered if he would ever be amused at anything again. 

Lord Dravot made a proclamation during dinner. Servants came with a box for each of us, and Lord Dravot issued his thanks to all those that helped the house during the recent crisis. He then made each of us a Companion du Soleil Argent. This is a high award in the house, only awarded singly in history, but the conditions merited this reward for us. In the box was a medallion of a silver sun. I was touched at this gesture from Dravot and wore it that evening.

After the ceremony and the plesantries, he also announced the succession plan for the family. Thora would serve as Regent for one year and the succession would be decided at this time next Firemeet. One of the visiting nobles from the House Darmon was preparing to say something when Gerrin whispered something in his ear and he sat back down. Gerrin then handed him something and slipped away. Other reactions were varied but there was no great outcry and the feast continued.

Overall it was a very pleasant evening - food, dancing, performances, and so on.

The next day, Aran'gel requested a horse and supplies. He was planning to return to the Shield Lands to find his remaining men, if indeed any escaped.

Before he left, he spoke to me privately.

He thanked me for my help, and for 'pointing him back to the road', so to speak. He had lost faith, somewhat, because he sacrificed a great deal to follow his path, and worried that now he had lost it. 

Further, he wants me to begin training you in the skills of the Arcane Archer. "You know how to use a bow, and you know how to use a spell," he said. "Now you must learn how to use both as one. I have learned spells that are specific to those with our skills. When we have time to spend, you and I shall begin your training, if you wish it." 

"Your friend Rackhir wields the bow like a hammer...as a pure and simple weapon of death. It can be more. The bow can be like a pen, a torch or a piece or rope. Creative. Useful. Versatile. The mark is a symbol, but it is not the power. That power rests within you, with the spark. Focus upon it until we meet again, and seek your focus. My power is reduced, but not my knowledge...and this I give freely." 

With that he rode off. 

After he cleared the gates, I was rather annoyed. "You must learn how to use these skills. You must begin training. See you later!"

Feh.

And off he went, riding to what could well be his death. I suppose the training isn't that important after all. Oh well. I suppose I could try and figure it out for myself. Someone must have done it once.

I spent the next hour in the garden, fuming and muttering under my breath. 

I wonder how long it will be until the next time I see him. He certainly didn't say he was coming back, and I have no idea how long we'll linger here.

After I calmed down I decided I may as well do as he said - focus on the spark. With him or without him, my path clearly lies there. We lingered in Brindenford some weeks - Scorch had much he wanted to do and we had no other pressing business. This being the case I had little else to do but explore that spark and I did so. After a few days I had calmed down, and did indeed begin to focus and explore that flame. After a week, I was sure there was no turning back, not that I wished to. And I was sure I would continue, whether I had a teacher or not. And my expectations were "not".

After two weeks, I changed my mind. Not out of optimism, but a feeling. I knew he was coming. 

After three weeks, Aris circled the estate and cried out. Rasha was, as usual, disinterested, but Aris landed on my offered arm. "So he's almost here is he?" I said and Aris chirped slightly and took off again.

And just before dinner, Aran'gel rode into the estate. Over dinner he told us his findings. It was very clear to me this was not a casual sharing of information - there was a purpose, and this was a briefing.

He found ten of his men that had survived the battle. These men had tried to keep an eye on the area as best they could. They had also returned to rescue Aran'gel but by then he was gone. During their work they had intercepted a few scouts and tracked troop movements in the area. They were hoping to find Aran'gel when he found them. The various communications they intercepted indicate the troops are searching for something called "The Twisted Grove" that lies within a ruined elven city in the Shield Lands. The forces are also warned specifically to watch out for any troops acting under orders from Chavram, and also to be on the lookout for "the traitor". They are very clearly warned to be wary of "the traitor" and not actively engage him now that they know him to be an active agent of Therizdun. The troops are to find the site of this city and try to locate some object. It also seems that the intended reader is not the brightest person, or may not have Common as their primary language.

The Brazen has requested that we investigate this further. (Needless to say I was not surprised.) The dragons are beginning to piece together more information and there are probably several groups trying to find the binders. 

They also have a theory as to why Venca is corrupting druids and using them for his plans. They believe Vecna is using the druids to access the elven places of power that have been concealed. The druids would be the most skilled at this and he is using them to help find the binders. They believe that the elves hid the binders knowing what had happened and that the power needed to be removed from the world.

So we concluded our stay in Brindenford. We arranged for a ship to take us from Prymp back to Greyhawk and from there we would sail to Radagast. We spent but a day in Greyhawk and finally relieved ourselves of some of the more esoteric items we had been planning to sell, such as Nightscale’s hide. I can’t help feeling I should find some kind of use to put all this gold to.

As we sailed, I learned, and Aran’gel taught. While I had been away, Dravot had used a restoration spell to return some of what was lost to Aran’gel, but unfortunately not all of it. But he was still an able teacher and I was a motivated student. 

Of course I had motivations that went beyond learning. I was determined that he not remain in his somber mood. Jozan has told me that Aran’gel is normally quite different and I’ve decided to help him through this whether he likes it or not.

The voyage offered us more time to talk than we had ever actually had in our brief encounters. And I learned a great deal. He feels very guilty for abusing my trust as he puts it, by putting a spell on me without my knowledge, and then for using it for selfish ends. I have made it rather clear that a single apology was sufficient and started to tease him when he kept going on about it, and he learned to let it go.

I also think he looks at me as more than a protégé. When the halfling bartender told me he was asking about me with his lurid overtones, I simply dismissed it. But now I think he was right, if crude. He is attracted to me, but I think it conflicts with his sensibilities and what he sees as his responsibility to teach me. I find the conflict somewhat amusing personally, since I don’t see a problem with it. But it offers me a means to help him out of the darkness he is surrounded by, and I intend to use it.

I also learned that he was a bit miffed that we didn’t offer to come with him when he first went to look for his men. He commented that it was nice to have us along this time. I looked at him in surprise and said that we would have come had he asked, and that he had not seemed receptive to company. Then I looked at him with big slightly hurt eyes and said "Did you think I wouldn’t have come had you asked?" I knew the effect this would have, and I was right.

He massaged his forehead against the oncoming headache. Did he think I was going to make it easy for him? He said "I knew you would go if I obligated you...that wasn't the way of it." At which point I disabused him of the notion of "obligating" me, with a grin. 

"Perhaps I'm too used to not asking. I'm used to others knowing my thoughts and ways....it was perhaps foolish of me to expect such. My mother said more than once that I was more like a dwarf than an elf when I was in a funk. My brother often said I was more like a dwarf like an elf when I was in my cups. But then, no one ever cursed me to wake up in the morning and dance naked in the sunlight every day." And then he smiled broadly, and it was a very pleasant thing to see. Once he realized he was doing it, he stopped though. And then I could only smile more. 

I debated straying into the topic of his family, but decided not to for now.

We arrived in Greyhawk, and had a day before the ship would continue to Radagast. Since there was no reason to remain on the ship, I didn’t. There was always things of interest to do in Greyhawk, and markets to browse, songs to hear, and food to eat. And I was determined to go off and have some fun. And of course I took Aran’gel with me. And as expected, he protested, wanting to stay in his cabin and be moody. But I was not going to be refused so easily, and a bit of pouting easily overcame his protests (which were only just for form’s sake anyway). We had a very pleasant day as I dragged him from market to market, then meals and taverns. Rather than return to the ship we just stayed out all night and returned in the morning, since we could rest once underway. (This let me avoid issues like off-ship sleeping arrangements, which neither of us were ready to deal with yet.)

In spite of himself, I think he had an enjoyable day, and perhaps forgot for a little while all the troubles he bears.

One thing that came up was that in Greyhawk we might be able to have his hand regenerated. But Aran’gel refused – he wishes to wait until after this mission is done before even considering it. He also has “uses” for the iron hand – what he meant I’m not sure.

He does at least have a renewed sense of purpose – with a mission before him and a student to be taught, he has new purpose, and that is also helping to bring him back to himself.

The ship sailed after a day and hugged the southern coast to stay clear of Iuz’s influence. Aran’gel and I began training more seriously now, and delving into more of the arcane subjects now that the spiritual groundwork had been laid. We also discussed the sortie in great detail. We arrived in Radagast without incident. Aran’gel took trouble to conceal himself once there, and we slipped out of the city drawing as little attention as we could.


----------



## Zad

*A side trip*

*From Valanthe's Journal*

Firemeet 7, 591 C.Y.

- I made a deal with a dragon today. Again. I swear that they enjoy this sort of thing as much as hoarding treasure. (Note to self: Why is it that all the dragons I know are folks I can't steal from? Need to find more evil dragons to rob, not these politically active work-within-the-system nabobs). It started just after Firemeet.

I've been trying to find someone to make that armor for me since Dyvers. We didn't have enough time to check around Hexpools last time I went through. I did some checking, though, and it turns out that one of the friends of the Brazen is known to be a master smith. Typical dragon, I guess, doesn't do things in half-measures. Thought I'd see whether or not he could be talked into crafting the armor I wanted.

I checked around town, hoping to find a good smith. But this is Brindinford, not Greyhawk. The best smith in town works for the house of d’Chandangac, and he’s no master. I was at his forge, when this giant of a man shows up. The smith treated this man mountain like he was in charge, and I guess he was. His skin was a ruddy copper color, his head shaved smooth and bald. He had long sideburns, but no mustache or beard. He didn’t wear no shirt, just one o’ those forge aprons. His hands are covered in gauntlets, and I know mithral when I see it, and his huge muscles meant he knew the inside of smith, all right. He had a large tattoo on his upper shoulder...i know a little old Flan from Ardestor, and that’s the rune for 'Copper', or I’m a halfling. The local smith told me who he was, and I put the rest together myself.

I decided subtlety wasn’t worth the effort here, so I told him straight up what I wanted. I’ve been saving some money, he’s an ally, and I was hoping he could find the time. He scratched his head and looked at me.

"Nae, naught normally do I. Ah, but yuir one a' the young lairds
companions, hey? The Sleepless, was it? "

I quickly told him who I was, and confirmed what he knew about me.

"Ya, as well I thought, then." He lowered his hammer and used a pair of tongs to grab the piece of metal he'd been working and dipped it into a barrel of water, causing a cloud of hissing steam to rise. 

"Yer don' us a good turn, and no mistake. I don' normally make armor on request, but I could find time fuir yuir like, then. Ask on then, and I'll tell ya as sure enough."

I told him about the armor I’d heard tell of, and asked his help with it.

"Dark Armor, is it? Hmmm. May as I can forge it, but there's a problem. Armor like that, it requires some special items. Rare ones, at that. I don' have 'em here, nae in my forge in Hexpools."

He stopped for a moment, and I could see the wheels turning in his head. He sized me up for a moment, and then went on.

"There is a way, mind ye. I do know of a source for some a' these things that's about a half-day's ride. But it's dangerous, and 'taint..well, ya must naught speak of it ta The Gilden, nae yuir young laird, neither."

"I do know of a place, an old tower, at least by your reckonin. Yuir can find it easy enough, once I draws it fer ya. A fella lives there what we know of, and canna do much about. A mage he is, and a foul sort, too. We'd be melting his mask, if it were that simple, but he's got powerful friends, and we canna draw their attention.not yet. But there ain't nothing says we can't poke 'im a little, aye?"

"Yuir needin to find yuir way in and find a mask. It'll be carved a' some metal, and worked ta be black as night. Mays be it's in a case, mays be not. Take that, and nothing else, and yui'll get yuir armor, sure as I can make it. What say ya?"


He gave me a map and instructions to reach a small house, or some sort of abandoned keep. This wizard whose name was Ibra’him, a member of the Horned Society in exile, had sought refuge in this abandoned keep. The Hammer didn’t know what his agenda was, but did know that he was too powerful to become confronted directly. He wasn’t undefeatable, mind you…but he has connections. He said he could make the armor without the item…but that it might take months or longer to find the necessary materials.

So the options were wait and hope for something before winter, or rob from a rich and formerly powerful wizard responsible for repressing an entire nation. Easy choice in my book. Hey, Tritherion would be proud. I think.

The others planned on going to Hexpools for a little shopping trip. I thought Scorch's jaw would hit the floor when I mentioned I wasn't planning on going. Jozan just gave me a suspicious look. I'm not sure if he was wondering what I was planning, or just if I was going to be a 'bad influence' on Meepo. I think he's starting to suspect that I'm the one who's been teaching Meepo a few tricks. That, and Tonk. Never hurts to know a few human card games. Especially ones that can...ahem...make you some money. Besides, it's all for charity. Who cares where the money comes from? It's what you do with it that matters. That reminds me, time to send another care package to Mother Gota...that gem of Ibra'him should do nicely.

Hmm? Oh, Ibra'him, right. Lost my thought, there. Anyways, I waited 'til they were out of town, left a note for Kayleigh and Dravot, made a quick shopping trip and headed out the next morning. I made sure Dravot didn't catch wind of what I was on about.... he’s as much a stickler about these sort of things as Jozan is. I doubt he’d approve of what the Hammer’s asking me to do. He’d probably start another one of those damn ‘rug’ lectures. Make a mistake once, and he’ll never let you forget it. “You’ve got to be more careful. You’ve got to follow the rules. Blah. Blah. Blah.” Give me one of Ardestor’s lectures, any day of the week. It’s still boring, but at least he’s not being chased by the undead all the time. Hmmph.

Anyways, I saddled up my mare, Apple, and rode out. Yes, that’s my horse’s name. You don’t like it? I’ll have her bite you. Or would you rather I gave her some silly Elven name or something? Anyways, it took me the better part of the day to follow the Hammer’s instructions.

The map eventually took me into the forest, off the road. Great. I’m a city girl. I hate doing this sort of thing in the wild. Especially with evil druids running around everywhere, but there it is. I led Apple along ‘til I found the small valley amidst the hills. I clung to the shadows and headed on foot towards the clearing, where the old tower stood.

The tower was in the center of a circular clearing. The grass had been killed or cut very short for approximately fifty feet around the tower. The tower itself appeared to be made of stone with cement or mortar layered over it, to prevent easy purchase. The tower rose some 60' into the air, and had no visible doors of any kind. There are signs of three windows running up the tower, but they had all been sealed using stones and mortar. The top of the tower came to a conical slate roof. I noticed something built on the roof...but at this distance I couldn't make it out. It might have been a window facing skyward. There was also a pole (maybe a flagpole? Still don’t know) rising some 15' above the roof. I think it was made of brass. Not sure though.

I went full-on shadow, if you know what I mean. It would still be a leap-of-faith to cross the killing field, but sometimes you just have to take that chance. I waited for the right moment, when the clouds blocked the sun, and moved from the clearing towards the tower. Once I was close, I kept a careful eye and even used small stones test the area in front of me. I expected there to be traps….but I missed the Glyph all the same. I smelled that telltale odor and felt the air change just in time…a bolt of lightning shot from the ground and shot right at me! I didn’t get this far without knowing when to jump, though, and I got out of the way. For the most part. It still hurt like hell, but it wasn’t fatal. Right. Lesson learned. What did LittleShade tell me? Some wizard traps can be keyed to people, or size or whatever. Obviously stones didn’t count, here. Check.

The tower had no way in that I could see. At least, for someone who couldn’t climb, I guess. I had my boots on, so up I went. Checking for any further traps, I walked up the wall and headed straight for the roof. If there was a way in, it’d be up there. 

The roof of the tower was made of gray slate shingles. The roof window was a circular window with a grate over the top. The window was about 3' in diameter, I think. Mind you, it’s not like I carry surveying tools or anything…but I do carry some measuring tape and the like. Sometimes you need to know what you can get through a window. The grate looked like iron to me, and had a heavy lock on the outside (to open it from below, you'd have to reach through the grate). The grate itself was fairly large, and a normal person could easily get their hand through it (it wasn’t a fine mesh...just a way to prevent birds from entering, most likely). It was cloudy now, lucky me, so my shadow was light. The sun was in front of me, so I didn't cast a shadow on the window. The glass was pretty crude make, if you ask me (and looked like it had shifted during cooling), but it let light into the tower, and what else do you need it for, anyway. I could see a poorly furnished room inside. It was child’s play to pick the lock, open the grate and get inside. I expected trouble, but got none. Sometimes you just get lucky. 

The room had some boxes, and was relatively clean. No dust. Bad sign, that. The boxes were all for storage, and if the Hammer told me right, then it wouldn’t be here. He said it was something like a trophy or prize…and this isn’t where you’d store that. But you can never tell…wizards are an awfully fruity lot. Along the outer wall was a stairwell, winding it’s way down against the tower.

I went down the stairs. I noticed something downright odd. While from the outside the windows were sealed, it was obvious that from this side, they are allowing light in, as the next floor was receiving light from the outside. Silently moving along the stone stairs, I came into some sort of study. There was a desk and chair of really poor make, if I’m any judge, with a pile of neatly stacked papers atop it. There were several inkwells, each containing inks of different colors....if it's ink they contained. There was a large book on a book stand, closed with a sturdy lock upon it. No way was I messing with that. At least, not yet. The window itself had a picture frame around it. Where the frame covered the window, I could see outside, and the sunlight was coming in through it. I could see the mortared window behind it where the frame didn't match its dimensions, though, and some testing revealed it was just some sort of illusion or something, and not a portal. 

Something bugged me about the view, though, and I realized that it wasn’t looking directly outside and appeared to be looking out over a different forest in a much rockier place. It's was sunnier there, wherever it is. A rug of rich colors, maybe from the Sea Princes, covered the floor. A rug…I’ll have to watch that.

I played with the picture, and searched around. I avoided the book…bad mojo to mess with that. If Scorch is any indication, I could get my hair burned off with that thing.

I headed down again. It was a bedroom, of sorts. When I reached the bottom, I realized that something was there. Unfortunately, it had the same idea, and decided it’d better deal with me. I panicked for an instant, thinking it might be the wizard, but instead a wolf crawled out from under the bed and attacked. I had no idea where this thing came from, but we danced nonetheless. It was no normal wolf, I knew. It tried to get me, but this thing wasn’t a real wolf. It moved all wrong. I rolled to the side and past it, hit the floor, pulled my dagger of poison and slit it’s belly wide-open. It screamed as I landed a particularly nasty strike, and it went down in a heap. As it collapsed, it melted into a little demon-like humanoid. I finished him off for good measure. Too many things have gotten back up lately for me to make that mistake.

I did a quick look around. A coat rack stood nearby, the bed, a dresser and some sundry furnishings. First things first, as Mother Gota used to say. Down the stairs to the ground floor. If the mage was here, then that’s where he’d be. I had to be sure, if I was to do anything else. Creeping slowly down the darkened stairs, I could see eerie light coming from below. By the odd colored lights, I could see alchemical equipment, and various tables. The lights appeared to be coming from some of the glass potion flasks. I could see small cages, and hear….things…moving. The good news was that there was no sign of the wizard. Good thing, as I haven’t found another way out of here. The bad news is that if the mask wasn’t somewhere upstairs, I’d have to venture into the lab. Not good. Never good. Ibra’him obviously liked to experiment on living subjects. I didn’t intend to become one. I went back upstairs.

A quick inspection of the dresser revealed nothing of value. I decided to move the mephit or quasit or whatever it was over to the corner, in case I needed to conceal it. Was this thing his familiar? Don’t these things disappear when you kill them? Stupid wizards. Under the bed was a locked chest. Even from here I could see the magic glyph hovering in front of it. I’ve learned a few things about deactivating these things…but they’re tough to deactivate without knowing the passwords. But it’d need some sort of human hand to trigger it, if I didn’t. I might be able to take the pain, or I might not. The lightning had hurt me more than I’d prefer, and my ribs still burned. But how was I going to get the chest? I stood and though about it…until my eyes came to rest on the little outsider.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. That’s just a mean thing to do to a dead familiar. Well, for your information, the stupid thing attacked me, was evil and worked for evil. Oh, and he was dead. Trust me, when the fireball exploded under the bed, he didn’t feel it. The coat rack that I’d tied him to was pretty much ruined, and the sheets on the bed caught fire. I honestly tried to put them out. I guess I just don’t like to see good linens go to waste. That and the fact that I didn’t want this place to burn down. This was just a nuisance theft, after all, not a search-and-destroy. I wanted Ibra’him irritated, not in a blood rage. I really hope that outsider wasn’t his familiar. I mean, I really, really, REALLY hope so.

Anyways, I opened the chest, and sure enough…the mask. Made of some obsidian carvings, and inlaid with gold. A hideous look, with two horns coming out of the forehead. Not sure what it’s for, but I sure don’t want to be the one to try it on. There were also some robes an a gem in the chest. The robes were pure silk, and very…well, wizard-looking. I mean, they had all these funny symbols on them, and looked very impressive. I thought about it for a moment, and snitched them for Scorch. In for a penny, in for a pound, I guess.

Leaving was easier than arriving, but I still was cautious. I decided the sooner I leave the better. There was no telling how quickly the mage could return, or what he’d do when he go here. Did I mention wizards are a fruity lot? Well, they are. I crossed the clearing almost as carefully as before, once I was sure I wasn’t being watched. I followed my exact route back. The tower was still surrounded by warding glyphs, but the one I’d already tripped was gone, and I didn’t intend to repeat the first mistake.

It was another day before Apple and I returned to town The Hammer was well pleased with the mask, and pledged to forge my new armor (if forged is the right term…it’s leather, after all). It would take several days, but I’m not going anywhere. I checked up on the rest when I got back to town, and left a Scorch a little present. He grumbled, but he didn’t give them back after he found them, so I’m guessing that he’s examining them, at least. As for that gem….well, the orphans will appreciate the gold more than the gem, so I’m making arrangements for that back to Dyvers. 

Not a bad haul for a few minutes work. Did I mention I hope that outsider wasn’t his familiar? Not that I’m concerned, mind you. Just….cautious.


----------



## Zad

*note*

(A poster on the old boards was confused by the changes in points of view so I posted this to clarify. At this point all of the players have ID's on the boards, and most correspond to their player name in this game.)


Our formats here have varied somewhat so I'll clear it up

Wizardru: the DM

Zad: er, me. I play Kayleigh, and I'm the one who writes most of the stuff here, and posts it. Occasionally there are journal entries from other characters (Dravot in A Family Affair) which are written by those players and just included wholesale in my post.

Valanthe's player is also married to Wizardru, so he is occasionally posting Valanthe's journal entries, but Valanthe's player wrote them.

Scorch: Feh.

This weekend's game had MASSIVE numbers of goblins. Look for a post today and maybe pictures. Also I'm gathering up stat blocks for posting.


----------



## Zad

*Flight of Arrows - Chapter 4*

*Flight of Arrows - Chapter 4: When goblins come a’callin*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience this session is 1200.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

While we spent little time in Grehawk, we 
did have a short meeting with Lord Gelban. He was very pleased with the work we did in Ahlyssa. He also made us aware of some other recent developments.

There have been no communications intercepted from the Scarlet Brotherhood of late. This in itself is rather suspicious. There is some word of a schism within the Brotherhood ranks, between forces of the Vermilion Queen, the original leader, and someone only called “The Red Lord” who has been leading some kind of dissent. I suspect the Red Lord is the one we have seen in various visions melting metal in his hands. [OOC Note: and whom we internally refer to as “Mister Heat Miser”.]

We set sail for Radagast City the next day. We hug the southern coast for safety and the trip is quiet. Aran’gel and I spent time in more serious study during this week.

We enter through the docks unchallenged. Aran’gel is clearly somewhat ill at ease here, and suggests we leave quickly. Taking this suggestion to heart, we immediately head out of the city and turn northward.

After two days ride, we see a large pile of bones ahead. We were still some 200 yards away when we first sighted it. We could then make out that there were several piles of bones some feet apart from each other. We approached closer and could see at least six small piles of bones around the large one. Nearby was also a large rock with some leather cords around it, and some planking nearby. We cautiously approached but detected no evil, no undead, and no magic.

This was the scene of a battle between a giant and some small humanoids. The bleached bones indicate it was some time ago. The rock was probably a part of the giant’s hammer. This meant that we were in territory where we might find both giants and whatever these small humanoids were. We continued onward.

Two days later, as we rode towards Shand, we saw The Crags. As we’ve approached the hills have flattened out but we are noting rock outcroppings. Just before noon we saw the large wall of craggy rocks rising up at least seventy feat and dominating the landscape for several miles in each direction. We would have to cross through these rocks to continue onward, and they looked far too friendly to an ambush. We could easily see three crevasses entering The Crags, and we simply chose one and entered.

At one point we saw a strange shape clinking to the canyon wall. It was made of mud and waddling and seemed to have been stuck to the side of the canyon high up. We believed it to be some kind of nest, and rather than risk the wrath of whatever lived there, we moved on without investigating.

We crossed the area slowly mindful of threats. The canyons crossed back and forth some but we were making progress through the area. We had just come into a slightly wider area in the crevasse when the tense calm was shattered by an explosion.

Nest. Must have been a nest. We should be so lucky. In fact it seems it was some kind of explosive alchemical concoction placed on the wall so that when detonated, the canyon wall would collapse and block escape. I assume that was the purpose since that’s exactly what it did. Behind us was now a forty foot pile of rock blocking our retreat.

Of course, the explosion was not the only surprise waiting for us. One thing we did know for sure now – the small humanoids were goblins. Meepo was so deafened by the explosion he spent the next several seconds calling to his master and wondering why he couldn’t hear himself.

Above on the tops of the canyon walls, goblins threw off their camoflauge. About twenty of them were up there with crossbows.

At the far end of the ravine, rank after rank of goblin wolf riders waited in formation. And ranks of footmen after them.

This was clearly a large, well armed and well prepared force. I wish I could say the same about us. 

Before they could charge, I pulled out a scroll. Web would be just the thing in the narrower part of the canyon where the riders waited, and could change the odds dramatically in our favor. I let the spell fly, but to no effect – it seems the goblins had sorcerers and one of them counterspelled my best hope.

Then all hell broke loose.

The goblin sorcerers cast expiditious retreat on the wolf riders. The archers above began shooting bolts loaded with alchemist’s fire down at us. Fortunately their accuracy was horrible but they did manage to shoot up Rackhir’s horse, and the burning fire on the ground hampered our already limited mobility.

Before the troops could charge us, though, Scorch spat a curse, and with it, a fireball. The wolf riders were injured and the sorcerers and goblins for several ranks were simply killed outright in the flames. To their credit the goblins did not break and run immediately.

The wolf riders charged in on us, surrounding our column on the sides. I was at the head of the column and was not attacked immediately however. Thorkeld engaged them while Dravot called down Pelor’s blessings yet again on us, this time in a stronger version than we were used to. Another line of goblins moved up, carrying bags on the ends of sticks. I had the sinking feeling they were tanglefoot bags that they planned to lob at us, which would not do well for our situation. Rackhir managed to jump clear of his horse before it fell bleeding on the canyon floor. Jozan waded into the wolf riders, killing two in a single swing.

And then, some of the archers threw down large globes into the canyon between us and the far exit – globes with fuses. That were burning. Quickly.

[OOC Note: That’s the end of round 1. Gah.]

I began firing into the mass of goblins – I was concerned about being swarmed. Three arrows killed three goblins rather easily. Rackhir also began shooting, taking out the wolves the goblins were riding. Some more alchemist’s fire came down from above, but I have no idea if it was aimed at me so poor was the shot. The wolf riders attempted to swarm Thorkeld behind me and Jozan was hit by a lucky shot from one of the archers above. Scorch grabbed on to Valanthe and disappeared to the top of the canyon. While having the perch to work from would certainly help, and while having Valanthe to eliminate those archers was also of benefit, I found myself sorely wishing for another fireball. Dravot placed a briarweb spell on the top of the cliff on the side opposite Scorch. As soon as the goblins squirmed the sharp thorns bled them out and they died, eliminating more of the harassing fire from above.

Aran’gel enchanted an arrow with simple sleep spell and eight or so fell unconscious. This eased up the pressure he and I were under and let us fire unfettered. At the back I could see a large goblin charging into the fray – we assumed he was their leader as the nearby goblins began whooping and yelling “RETNUG” as he closed in. The sappers with the tanglefoot bags loosed their payload but were unable to get close enough to any of the horses to completely mire them in glue although several of our mounts were hampered somewhat.

The archers above switched from alchemist’s fire to a new trick – thunderstones. The loud noise was quite sufficient to deafen me after so many went off and many of my companions were in the same state.

And then the globes exploded, spewing massive amounts of smoke around them. The smoke was many feet deep and cut across almost the entire battleground.

[OOC Note: Round 2 ends]

Rackhir killed another wolf while I killed more goblins. Dravot threw a fire shield on himself and went into the fray. Thorkeld was slowly beating down the riders attacking him. Up top, Scorch fired a lightning bolt that not only killed most of the archers on that side of the canyon, but also hit the crates carrying all their special ammunition. The explosion of all the thunderstones going off echoed through the canyon, but I was already so deafened as to pay no notice. Aran’gel slew another rider.

And the goblins began to see the better part of valor, and began running. Even Retnug decided it was time to withdraw and charged back through the smoke. [OOC Note: Actually Retnug was in the smoke when it went off, and got turned around and lost and came out the far side, and by then it was time to start running. End of round 4. Things were starting to move faster without 60+ goblins on the board.] 

I did not like the notion of being plagued by goblins our every step, so I spurred my horse and charged through the smoke to run him down. I emerged on the far side and spotted him to my left and turned and fired at him. It was an impulsive move, but I hoped that my fellows would come to my aid before too long. The shot landed firmly and Retnug was not pleased. While I was looking for Retnug, I spotted goblins on the top of the canyon pushing large cauldrons – boiling oil surely. 

Behind me, Dravot killed another rider. Scorch also saw the goblins with the oil and a magic missile killed two of the three pushing the cauldron on his side of the ravine. 

Retnug gathered up some courage and attacked me with one of his troops. He sent the soldier to the far side and attacked me. He managed to land a hard blow and I became worried for my safety. [OOC Note: little bugger had rogue levels and with the flank/sneak attack, that hurt.]

Jozan slaughtered three of the sappers in their ranks after which the rest broke and ran. Meepo finally recovered his wits and fell upon one of the hated goblins and killed it. All the remaining goblins except the wolf riders broke and ran. [End of round 5]

I could hear more howling as Rackhir and Thorkeld both killed more wolves. I did not appreciate being flanked by these goblins but there was an easy enough answer for it. I urged my horse back slightly and fired a shot that killed the cowering soldier aiding his leader. Having solved that problem I put two more arrows into Retnug who howled in pain. Eyeing his situation, he began running far too fast to have not been enchanted. Fortunately he was not faster than my arrows, and two more in his back were enough to bring his broken body sliding to a halt among the rocks. A sorcerer was also fleeing to the warrens and I slew him as well.

[At this point we’re cleaning up opportunity targets where we could – the fight was pretty much over.]

In the end, a quick count showed that while we had been attacked by a hundred or more goblins, at least eighty or so lay dead before us.

The few goblins that managed to flee headed for their warrens. A ways ahead we could see three small tunnels entering the cliffside. The tunnels were only four feet high so we were not inclined to follow the goblins into their lair, although we may have to change our minds on this. We also debated trying to pour the boiling oil into the warrens but he geography would not make that workable.

In the general area we saw several large boulders that were too round to be natural. There were also blood stains on some of them. They were apparently made by giants and hurled at the goblins here, so perhaps their war is not so old. Since their war still seemed to be current, we took the head of Retnug with us, in case we could use it to show good faith. (An enemy of my enemy and all that.)

We rode on, anxious to put some distance between us and the goblins. My mind nagged at me – there was only one way to deal with such creatures and that was to hunt down ever last one. If you didn’t, they would always come back to plague you again. However we had used some of our best spells, and we didn’t have an army, just the few of us. But if we must return this way, are we doing ourselves any favor by not pressing the advantage we have?

Two hours north of the goblins, we found signs of yet another battle between the giants and the goblins. Many dead goblins lie about, and there were signs of some massive bloodloss from some creature. I surmise that in this case, the giant was heavily wounded but lived long enough to defeat the goblins and leave the area. In the ground we found two spears, each skewering the severed paw of some large animal with raking claws.

General note to readers: Most of us have vacations and things in August so you won't see much for a while. We might squeeze in one more game before then but August is going to be a wash pretty much.


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## Zad

*Pictures!*

Well, as promised, here's some pictures for your enjoyment. This is a little quick capture of how the 4.5 hour battle (or 30 second battle, game time) actually appeared on the table.

Enjoy!


http://www.wizardru.net/html/battle_royale.html


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## Zad

*Current stat blocks*

And to go with the pictures, the first of the stat blocks. I'll add the rest when I get them.

These blocks are current as of now (i.e. end of chapter 4 of Flight of Arrows). The commentary is a mix of what the player supplied and some of my own comments.

In no particular order:

These stat blocks were posted to the story hour, compiled at the end of chapter 4.

*Rackhir the Red Archer *

Male Human Bar 1/Ftr 6/OBI 1; HD 8D10+24; HP 74; Init +3 (+3 Dex); Speed 80 Ft; AC 17 (+3 dex, +4 Armor); Attack Mighty (+3) Composite Long Bow MW +15/+10, D8+3 (+1 Hit/+4 Dam '30), or Dwarven War Ax +13/+8 D10+6 SV Fort +10, Ref +7, Will +4; Al CN; Str 17, Dex 16, Con 16, Int 14, Wis 10, Cha 12; 

Languages Spoken : Common, Dwarf, Goblin 

Skills: Bluff +5, Craft (Bowmaking) +15, Craft (Weaponsmith) +5, Gather Information +2, Heal +1, Hide +6, Intimidate +3, Intuit Direction +2, Jump +33, Move Silently +10, Ride +6, Spot +3. 

Feats: Point Blank Shot, Precise Shot, Rapid Shot, Shot on the Run, Weapon Focus (Comp Long Bow), Weapon Specialization (Comp Long Bow), Dodge, Mobility. 

Special Abilities : Rage, +10 ft Movement, Close Combat Shot (does not evoke AoO when firing a bow in Close Combat). 

Magic Items : Boots of Striding and Springing, Quiver of Ehlona, Bracers of Archery, +2 Dwarven War Axe 

Personal Information: 
Not much is known about Rackhir's history. He has never talked about it, though it has recently emerged that he was previously married to a woman he calls Ravenna who has reappeared as a Servant of Iuz. He has claimed that he killed her the last time he saw her and he has expressed great bitterness and hatred toward her. 

Generally, he comes across as brooding, quiet and withdrawn. Frequently described as having "Dead Eyes", he pays little attention to anything other than combat, which is the only time he seems truly alive. He occasionally gets into raging arguments with Jozan the Paladin, usually over one of Jozan's many decree's. 

In combat:
Rackhir is a deadly archer but is nearly as effective in close combat with a melee weapon, and will switch to hand-to-hand as needed. As a new OOBI, there may be less need for this in the future. 

*Dravot d'Chandagnac*
Male Human Clr 7/Shadowed of Pelor 1; medium sized humanoid (human); HD 8d8 + 24; hp 76; Init +1 (+1 Dex); Speed 30 ft; AC 20 (+1 Dex, +7 Armor, +1 Shield, +1 ioun stone); Attack Sun hammer +9/+4; Dmg Sun hammer d4+1; SV Fort +9, Ref +3, Will +13; AL LG; Str 12, Dex 12, Con 16, Int 12, Wis 18, Cha 18. 

Languages Spoken: Common, Draconic, Old Aerdi

Skills and Feats: Concentration +9, Diplomacy +9, Gather Information +11, Healing +12, Knowledge (Arcana) +3, Knowledge (Religion) +6, Knowledge (Undead) +10, Move Silently +1, Ride +2, Scry +2, Spellcraft +3, Swim –5, Profession (Law) +5

Iron Will, Extra Turning, Weapon Focus (heavy mace), Leadership

Special Abilities and Qualities: Sun Domain, Healing Domain, Detect Undead at will

Magic Items: 
Sun Hammer (?), +1 called banded mail, dusty rose ioun stone, wand of cure moderate wounds, scrolls: lesser restoration, command, cure light wounds, slow poison, magic stone.

[Shadowed of Pelor is a custom prestige class for this campaign, similar to a hunter of the dead.]

Personal Information: 
Dravot is the fourth son of the House d'Chandagnac, a noble house in the kingdom of Ahlyssa that rules the area of Brindenford. As the fourth son, he entered the Church of Pelor, partially due to the inspiration of Bellamy, a priest of Pelor and friend of the family. The second son, Roget, was killed in an accident fifteen years prior. Dravot’s services were offered to Lord Gelban in an arrangement with the Church of Pelor.

Of course a great deal of Dravot’s family history came to light in “A Family Affair”. As a result of that episode, Dravot still bears a mark on his arm that has something to do with the animus process. As a pious man this troubles him greatly.

Dravot is generally a calm mix of a pious man and a noble son and seeks to carry Pelor’s will forward but does not force the light upon those who are not yet ready to follow.

In combat:
Dravot is the backbone of the group due to his support spells and healing. While not excelling in damage delivery, his spells are often able to provide significant support to the group and radically alter the outcome of a battle. He has taken to a daily casting of Greater Magic Weapon on arrows for the archers. Against undead, the strength and number of his turnings make him the group’s most deadly weapon.

*Valanthe the Sleepless (Valanthe ?)*
Female Human Rog 6/ShadowDancer 3; medium sized human; HD 6d6 + 3d8 + 27; hp 68; Init +4 (+4 Dex); Speed 30 ft; AC 18 (+4 Dex, +5 Armor); Attack +1 rapier +10/+5, +1 dagger of venom +10/+5; Damage +1 rapier 1d6+4, +1 dagger of venom 1d4+4; SV Fort +6, Ref +12, Will +4; AL CG; Str 16, Dex 19, Con 16, Int 17, Wis 13, Cha 9.

Languages Spoken: Common, Elven, Gnome, Halfling

Skills and Feats: Appraise +5, Balance +11, Bluff +9, Climb +8, Decipher Script +7, Disable Device +10, Escape Artist +10, Hide +15 (+25), Jump +10, Knowledge Arcana +4, Listen +11, Move Silently +15 (+25), Open Lock +12, Perform +4, Pick Pocket +9, Read Lips +5, Search +14, Sense Motive +6, Spot +14, Tumble +16, Use Magic Device +1, Use Rope +6.

Alertness, Combat Reflexes, Dodge, Mobility, Spring Attack

Special Abilities and Qualities: Sneak Attack +3d6, Uncanny Dodge, Evasion, Hide in Plain Sight, Defensive Roll, Summon Shadow, Darkvision, Shadow Illusion

Magic Items:
Rapier +1, Dagger of Venom +1, Boots of Spider Climb, Ring of Jumping, Studded Leather of Shadows and Silence (+10 to Hide, +10 to Move Silent), Ring of Shield (can’t use it yet)

Personal Information:
Valanthe was an orphan in Dyvers and was raised by Mother Gota who ran an orphanage. She had a distaste for conventional apprenticeship or other more legitimate forms of employment and had a talent for acquiring what she needed in other ways. She frequently donated these ill-gotten gains back to the orphanage or other charities once her own needs were taken care of. She was also influenced by Ardestor a cleric of Trithereon, who was responsible for getting her into the orphanage. 

Valanthe had chosen to steal a shipment of wares from the merchant quarter that turned out to be a gift for the Duke of Ernst from Lord Gelban. The crime was traced back to her but instead of punishment, Lord Gelban made an offer to her, and she has been in his employ since then. 

Valanthe has given up most of her less sociable habits and tries to generally focus her attentions on her foes, rather than seeking to pinch an extra copper from her fellow adventurers. Given the wealth the group received in recent missions, she has little need to steal, save for the thrill or practice of it.

In combat:
Valanthe will examine the situation and attempt to reach the far corners of the battlefield for tactical advantage and create sneak attack opportunities. Her habit of watching the “big picture” has paid off on several occasions.


*Kayleigh *

Female Elf Ftr 4/Sor 4/Arcane Archer 1; medium sized humanoid (high elf); HD 4d10 + 4d4 + 1d8 + 18; hp 63; Init +10 (+6 Dex, +4 Improved Initiative); Speed 30 ft; AC 20 (+6 Dex, +4 Armor); Attack +1 flaming longbow +14/+10 (+1 inside 30 feet), full attack +14/+14/+10 (+1 inside 30 feet); Dmg +1 flaming longbow 1d8 +1d6 flame +2 (Crit x3), (+3 inside 30 feet); SV Fort +8, Ref +10, Will +6; AL CG; Str 14, Dex 22, Con 14, Int 16, Wis 12, Cha 14. 

Languages Spoken: Common, Elven, Draconic, Sylvan, Orc

Skills and Feats: Climb +6, Concentration +4, Diplomacy +5, Hide +7, Knowledge (Arcana) +5, Move Silently +11, Perform (harp) +3, Ride +11, Spellcraft +14, Spot +13, Craft (Bowmaking) +17

Point Blank Shot, Precise Shot, Weapon Focus (longbow), Weapon Specialization (longbow), Rapid Shot, Improved Rapid Shot, Improved Initiative 

Special Abilities and Qualities: Elven racial qualities, Familiar (Rasha, male cat), Enchant Arrow (+1), Generally keeps cat’s grace cast on self

Spells Known: Level 0 – Dancing lights, Light, Ghost Sound, Detect Magic, Prestidigitation, Read Magic. Level 1 – Shield, Charm Person, Silent Image. Level 2 – Cat’s Grace

Magic Items: 
+1 Flaming Longbow, Quiver of Ehlonna, Wand of Magic Missiles (3rd level caster, 31 charges) 2 potions of cure light wounds (level 5), potion of cure serious wounds, potion of blur, 10 sleep arrows, Gauntlets of arrow snaring.

Personal Information: 
Kayleigh is the eldest of two daughters of a minor noble and Knight of Luna in Celune. She was only 82 when the Hateful Wars erupted and she (and many of her fellow elves) took up the bow to defend the elven nation even though she was not yet of age for such things. While she was not deep in the thick of the war, she did see enough of it to color her attitudes towards the evil races and orcs in particular.

Her father is at odds with Celune’s isolationist policies. When a recent political storm erupted, he requested she depart for a time to let things settle out. He hoped this would also relieve some of the restlessness he had observed in her recently. He arranged for her to work with Lord Gelban in Greyhawk on unknown terms.

Since that time she has learned of the Council of Dragons and many other things. She has performed well and gained confidence, though still occasionally feels swept up in affairs that are beyond her. With the help of the dragons, she has learned to control her latent magical abilities and she has recently discovered her true nature – one of the Elven Champions, (Arcane Archers among the humans). Kayleigh is generally determined and tactical thinker when there is a purpose, but tries to be equally relaxed and uncaring when there is no immediate objective.

In combat:
Kayleigh is a long range fighter – she will stay out of the fray and fire at appropriate targets. She will frequently lead the initiative due to her high dex and newly acquired improved initiative feat, and will select targets carefully. She is a tactical thinker during combat.


*Scorch *

Male Human Wizard 9; HD 9D4+27; HP 50; Init +3 (+3 Dex); Speed 30 Ft; AC 18 
(+3 dex, +5 Mage Armor and Ring of Prot +1); 
+7 Fort, +7 Ref, +8 Will (Bracers of Protection); Str 10, Dex 17, Con 17, 
Int 20, Wis 13, Cha 8; Alignment Chaotic Neutral 

Languages Spoken : Common, Abyssal, Draconic, Elven, Ignan 

Skills: Alchemy +17, Appraise +11, Concentration +15, Heal +4, Hide +4, 
Knowledge Arcana +17, Scribe +3, Scrye +6, Search +11, Sense Motive +2, 
Spellcraft +17, Spot +4 

Feats: Spell Focus (Enchantment & Evocation), Spell Penetration, Cooperative 
Spell, Craft Wondrous Item, Extend Spell 

Special Abilities : Scribe Scroll, 

Magic Items : Bracers of Protection (+1 on saving throws), Ring of Zagif the 
Mad, Ring of Wizardry I, Boccob's Blessed book, Miscellaneous Potions and 
Scrolls, the Magic Egg (purposed known only to Scorch) 

Personal Information: 
Scorch is a mixed bag when it comes to his past. On one hand he never mentions his real name and where he is from but on the other hand he loves to complain about how he was the unwanted son of a minor noble and how he was shunted off to the Mage Academy. 

Scorch has a misanthropic streak and is very hard to get along with. He constantly mutters about how the incompetence of those around him and his catch phrase "Feh!" can be heard in reaction to almost any situation. He has a preference for casting fire spells, especially fireball, but does not allow himself to be locked into that for his choice of spells. 

It is probably a good thing that he has been forced into a situation where he has to work with others since if he did not have someone to complain to he would probably turn into one of those reclusive wizards who experiments on the living. 

In combat:
Well, he's the wizard. In the early levels he only had a spell or two, but used them with devastating effect. He's in the full flourish of his power now, and can radically alter the situation on the field, given the right opportunity. 


*Jozan Mornlight*

Male Elven Pal 9 (Sehanine Moonbow); HP 84 ; AC 18 (MW Chain Shirt, +1 Shield, +1 Ring) ; Attack: Shatterspike, Longsword: +15/+10 Dam 1d8+6; Shatterspike, Greatsword +15/+10 Dam 2d6+6 SV: +12 fort, +7 ref, +9 will 
STR 18 Dex 10 Con 14 Int 12 Wis 15 Cha 18 

Languages: Common, Elven, Faerie 

Skills(total skill mod): Climb +4, Diplomacy +7, Handle Animal+9, Heal +6, Knowledge (religion) +4, Listen +5, Ride +8, Spot +6, Wilderness Lore +3 

Feats: Mounted Combat, Power Attack, Cleave, Sunder. 

Special Abilities : Detect Evil, Lay on Hands, Divine Health, Aura of Courage, Smite Evil, Turn undead. 

Magic Items : Cloak of Elvenkind, Boots of Elvenkind, +1 ring of Prot, +1 Shield, Shatterspike. 

His village ruthlessly destroyed while he was still a baby, Jozan was raised in a monastery devoted to Pelor. Although diligent in his studies, the spark of devotion to a human god was never quite in Jozan, and when he 
became of age, he left for Greyhawk. As a final gift from the monastery, he was given a letter of recommendation from the elder, and with it managed to join Greyhawk's militia, Starting as a Squire. He was assigned to an Elven 
Company in the service of Gelban, And It was while in the Field Fighting the Hateful wars near his home village he had a vision. 

The village Jozan came from was dedicated to Sehanine Moonbow, and She asked Jozan to become her Champion. "Your lessons in the human monastery will be important", She said. "Elven religious teachings are less...rigorous. What the monks and mlerics Taught you about faith gives you the opportunity to become something very vare for our kind: an Elven Paladin" The spark of devotion ignited at last for him, he devoted his time to his martial studies and learning his newly restored faith. 

Jozan comes across as a very peaceful elf. Perhaps a bit more serious then most elves, but still less so than human clerics and paladins. Tolerant, and perhaps forgiving to a fault, Jozan has acquired the kobold Meepo as a squire by rescuing him from his fellow creatures after losing the Dragon he was in charge of. Sehanine Moonbow has provided a mount for Jozan as well: Crescent, a large dire wolf. 

Jozan's weapon, Shatter Spike, Is one of 12 great elven blades. In Jozan hands, it is Currently a +2 longsword that can become a +2 greatsword, has a Bane: Evil Outsiders, And can be Infused at the cost of one of Jozan's 
turning abilities to give a bonus to attack and Damage. 

In Combat:
Jozan is the main tank for the group. The only tank really. This was a lot more tense when we were lower level but isn't as bad now. 

NPC's leading off with everyone's favorite...


*Meepo*

Male Kobold Ftr 2/Rog 1; small sized humanoid (kobold); HD 2d10 + 1d6 + 3; hp 22; Init +3 (+3 Dex); Speed 30 ft; AC 17 (+3 Dex, +3 Armor, +1 size, +1 natural armor); Attack Short Sword +4; Damage short sword 1d6; SV Fort +4, Ref +5, Will 0; AL NG; Str 10, Dex 16, Con 12, Int 10, Wis 10, Cha 12.

Languages Spoken: Common, Kobold

Skills and Feats: Disguise +2, Hide +15, Move Silently +9.

Blind fight, Run, Weapon focus: short sword

Special Abilities and Qualities: Sneak Attack +1d6, darkvision 60’, Light sensitive

Magic Items:
None. 

Personal Information:
Meepo is a kobold who was the caretaker of a infant white dragon. The dragon was stolen by the goblins. A group of adventurers came looking for the fruit, and agreed to help Meepo. When they found the dragon, it almost killed Meepo but Jozan saved Meepo’s life. Meepo now serves Jozan as faithful squire.

Meepo not like elf lady because she was mean to Meepo, but she not mean like she used to be. Meepo is scared of red man and wizard man. Meepo like sneaky lady.

Meepo always speaks of Meepo in the third person.

In combat:
Meepo usually would prefer to cower or run but has overcome these instincts. He will not engage in front line combat but he will take a swing if opportunity presents itself. He has also taken occasionally heroic steps, such as saving Scorch from rampaging wolves. 


*Aran’gel Brightflame*

Male Elven Ftr 6/Wiz 4/Arcane Archer 3; medium sized humanoid (high elf); HD 6d10 + 4d4 + 3d8 + 13; hp 78; Init +5 (+5 Dex); Speed 30 ft; AC 19 (+5 Dex, +4 Armor); Attack Longbow +18/+13/+8; Damage Longbow 1d8 + 3; SV Fort +10, Ref +11, Will +7; AL LG; Str 14, Dex 20, Con 12, Int 16, Wis 10, Cha 12.

Languages Spoken: Common, Elven

Skills and Feats: (not fully determined).

Alertness, Point blank shot, Precise shot, Rapid shot, Spell Focus (enchantment), Weapon focus (longbow), Empower spell, Enlarge spell, Weapon Specialization (longbow)

Special Abilities and Qualities: Familiar (hawk), enchant arrow +2, imbue arrow

Magic Items:
None presently

Personal Information:
Aran’gel Brightflame is cousin to Melf Brightflame and a Prince of Celene. However he does not reveal this information to those around him. He is currently the Warden of Highfolk.

He first encountered the party during their trip to the Glitterhame, and was asked to particularly observe Kayleigh. He determined that she did possess the spark of an Elven Champion (Arcane Archer) and placed a spell on her to monitor her progress.

He did not see the party again for some time. A group of barbarians led by a female archer (Ravenna, Rackhir’s ex-wife) attacked a village and he pursued her forces with his. During the battle, Ravenna brought in demonic aid and most of Aran’gel’s men were killed. He was captured and forced to watch as she tortured and killed his men. She cut off his hand, drained his soul, and wounded his familiar.

Aran’gel used the spell he had placed on Kayleigh to contact her and show her what was happening, hoping for aid. Kayleigh extracted him from that situation and saw to his recovery. One of the dragons gifted him with a metal hand, which while it does is a solid metal hand and does not bend, does stick to things magically allowing him to manipulate objects.

Aran’gel is awash in a number of feelings, including a desire for vengance, a deep sadness at what has happened to him, and an attraction towards Kayleigh. These feelings have caused him to behave differently from his usual self.


*Thorkeld*

Male Human Pal 6; medium sized humanoid (human); HD 6d10 + 6; hp 45; Init +5 (+1 Dex, +4 improved initiative); Speed 20 ft; AC 21 (+1 Dex, +7 Armor, +2 Shield, +1 ioun stone); Attack Nightbane (warhammer) +11/+6; Dmg Nightbane d8+1; SV Fort +9, Ref +6, Will +7; AL LG; Str 14, Dex 12, Con 13, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 16. 

Languages Spoken: Common

Skills and Feats: Balance –1, Diplomacy +8, Intimidate +5, Jump –2, Knowledge (religion) +2, Ride +4

Improved initiative, Power attack, Weapon focus: Warhammer, Quick draw

Special Abilities and Qualities: Paladin’s Mount

Magic Items: 
Nightbane, +1 called banded mail, dusty rose ioun stone, wand of cure moderate wounds, scrolls: lesser restoration, command, cure light wounds, slow poison, magic stone.

[Thorkeld is Dravot’s cohort]

Personal Information: 
Thorkeld, known at home as “The Lion of Brindenford” is something of a local hero. He is the House Champion of the d'Chandagnac family.


----------



## Zad

*Chapter 5 – From bad to worse*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience was 2000 each. 1125 for combat and 825 for “speed improvements” which was rounded up to an even 2000. We were definitely proceeding more briskly.

Due to vacations, the soonest possible next game is around August 24th or so.


*This Week’s Adventure*

While we had weathered the goblin storm fairly well, we were cautious as we pushed into these dangerous lands. We decided it might be better to rest a bit before proceeding. We located a spot along the crag wall that was somewhat hidden and at least gave us solid rock to our backs, and set up camp. I’m not sure if the goblins were scared to pursue or were unable to find us, but the night passed quietly, save for Aran’gel’s fitful rest.

After emerging from the crags, the terrain turned to low rolling hills. Aran’gel indicated we were doing well and should simply proceed north until we find the ruined town.

Crescent can tell that a force of humans and humanoids has passed this way recently and we all could see various signs confirming it.

After an hour we spot something ahead. Some three miles away is some kind of ruined stone structure. Aran’gel said that should be the garrison station for Shand and the town itself should be nearby.

As we got closer we could begin to see the ruins of the town. We also notice a great deal of thick grass near the garrison itself. However the grass was not high enough to hide the presence of bears. Large bears. Huge bears. Gigantic bears-should-not-ever-be-that-big bears. Fortunately the bears do not seem to be aware of us yet, or if they were they had little interest. 

Or perhaps not. When we were five hundred feet away, the bears roared and charged.

Aran’gel and I simply exchanged looks from horseback and shrugged and opened fire, as did Rackhir. The bears continued to charge after several arrows landed in them (a fine shot from that range I might add) but continued to charge. This seemed rather odd. However their pained howls awoke something else.

“Who dares disturb Thrag, Lord of Crag?!?” a deep voice boomed across the area. Behind the ruined stone wall of the garrison, a giant slowly stood up and scratched his belly. Upon seeing us, he looked down and kicked something, saying "WAKE UP you lazy fool!”

The bears continued to charge in and we continued to fire. [OOC Note: I fired three shots, and rolled a 2, a 3 and a 3. Feh.] Jozan and Thorkeld simply waited for the bears to close, watching the withering fire from the archers. Meanwhile Thrag was rummaging around in a large sack, apparently gathering boulders.

And still the bears came. Of the two, we had concentrated our fire on one bear. That bear was badly hurt but still coming. Rackhir said he would finish it and I turned my fire to the next one. And Rackhir fired again, and the bear finally collapsed in the field, still short of its prey. The bears were close enough now though that the melee fighters closed and engaged it.

Aran’gel did not like the looks of the boulders – of course none of us much cared for the notion. Aran’gel however had a idea. He threw a spell on an arrow, and then, with what I swear was a smirk, let it fly. It landed in the garrison station and it was promptly enveloped in fog. The giants could hardly see themselves, let alone us. Thrag bellowed “Smells like YOUR cooking!” and cursed the fog.

As the second bear was being dealt with, we could hear in the distance >thump< “Owwww” as the giants, clearly none too bright, tried to maneuver out of the stone walls. Aran’gel’s trick to delay the giants was working perfectly leaving us free to deal with the bear before engaging them.

Thrag emerged from the fog. Throg, however was still lost and running into walls. If Thrag was Lord of Crag, then surely Throg was Lord of Fog. Thrag had a boulder in each hand which he was hefting to get the weight of it.

Thrag was still over a thousand feet away and while I wasn’t sure if he could be a threat at that range, I was fairly sure I could not so I took off at a gallop towards him, with Aran’gel close behind me. Meanwhile the remaining bear was badly hurt. Jozan took pity on it. It had clearly been trained by the giants and was somewhat a victim here. He managed to scare off the bear, who was badly hurt and was glad to simply retreat. Aran’gel let fly with another arrow, which exploded in a cloud of golden dust, but Thrag did not seem to be affected.

Thrag threw both his boulders at me, fortunately missing but leaving rather impressive marks in the dirt. My horse was not thrilled at the idea of these large rocks hurtling by but stayed calm for the moment and I returned fire.

Thrag had come away from the garrison, but was now starting to come under fire, and he was out of rocks. He moved back towards the fort to where Throg had finally emerged from the fog carrying the sack.

I had lost track of Scorch but he had apparently not been idle – he had used one of his new tricks to change into a small dragon, flying quick above the scene. He let loose with a fireball into the giants, and then withdrew, figuring we could handle them from there. Not only were the giants burned but the sack was in flames, and it’s contents destroyed.

Freed from the bear, most everyone began riding across the field to engage the giants. Throg grabbed a rock and threw it at Jozan. Even though it just hit his shield, the blow was jarring. Dravot was now close enough and called on the blazing light of Pelor, which dropped Thrag in his tracks.

Throg saw Thrag go down and was uncertain. We briefly discussed letting him live, but the fewer beasts alive to chase us meant a greater chance for our survival. Three of my arrows were joined by two of Rackhir’s in Throg, and he fell to the ground beside Thrag.

A quick search revealed nothing of value beyond a small pile of gold coins – perhaps it was in the sack that Scorch had charred to a crisp, or perhaps they had nothing at all. [OOC: 250gp] While we examined the garrison, Valanthe scouted out the ruins of the town. On her return she reported rust monsters hiding in the buildings out of the sunlight, and a fair number of bodies from a recent battle.

We moved into the town and examined the scene. Fortunately the rust monsters were sated on the remains of the battle and had little interest in accosting us. There were some barbarian corpes, some orcish, some human, and some in brown robes. One in particular had a claw for a hand and his skin was a purplish color. Some were staked down with large spears. We also found the remains of what was surely a bebbilith.

And there were elves.

We came to the conclusion that this was a fight between forces from Iuz, and those of Venca. Aran’gel’s remaining men, who were supposed to meet us here, were caught in the middle and all killed as well. 

There were signs that the town had been occupied recently but it is generally in ruins. Shand had been destroyed some time in the near past. However it was clear that two sizable forces had engaged here and that one of them was the defender. There are about a dozen or so bodies of druids, but no two look the same – all had various deformities or alterations. They were all human, except for one orc. The Iuz side was a combined group of humans, barbarian warriors, and humanoids. Both suffered heavy losses but it seems that Iuz won and went off to the east. The bebbilith was killed by lightning, likely from the druids. 

On one of Aran’gel’s men, we find a crudely drawn map, and a short log of the activities of the druids. The map indicates a grove to the east which would have been normal for an elven town. We headed in that direction.

Jozan noticed that there were no animals present. Neither alive nor dead. This put words to a disturbing disquiet, but we had no idea what to do about it or the present. There were plenty of trees and vegetation though. I stopped to examine a tree – it was quite real – a healthy rowan.

As we got closer, we began seeing more bodies – mostly orcs under Iuz’s banner from the Blinded Eye clan. Their throats and chests had been ripped open and their hearts had been removed. There was no blood around, and no sign of what killed them. Of course the absence of blood itself was a sure sign of some type of Gulthias horror, but never had we seen them using whole organs.

There is an occasional druid body as well, which has been . . . harvested in the same way. After a mile, the forest gave way to a sizable clearing, with the floor covered in brambles. Rising from the center is a crude earthen hill, likely manufactured, with a tunnel in one side. 

At the edge of the grove, Jozan knelt to pray, and nearly immediately passed out. He came around quickly and told us of a vision of people moving into a large earthen room, and a large tree and a glowing man. The attackers were then consumed by plants, sometimes exploding from within their bodies.

The brambles were of course suspicious. But Dravot smelled the scent of undeath on the brambles. Fortunately the quickly withered under Pelor’s light and he cleared a wide path to the mound. [OOC Note: we have this habit. When we come across something weird like this, I go “I detect magic”, the paladin says “I detect evil” and the cleric says “I detect undead”. On this occasion, we were shocked to get an answer of “No no yes” Undead plants were the last thing we expected.]

The tunnel lead inward and sloped downward. After sixty feet it came to a small area with a door. The walls were all bare earth but the door was wooden. In the room was the body of a fallen druid, pinned to the floor with greenery and having several spikes through his chest.

This was most odd. Why would a druid be dead from the plants we assumed they were controlling?

The door was enchanted with a glyph of some sort, which Scorch dispelled. 

As usual, Valanthe cracked the door and looked inside. The next room was a large chamber that was littered with bones. The stench of death flowed from the room as soon as the door was opened. Had there been more blood it could have been an abattoir. Piles of human and humanoid bones littered the floor and several more intact corpses as well. In the middle, an eight foot creature with purplish skin and a hollow ribcage stood. Inside it’s ribcage was a humanoid shape, thrashing in agony. It bent over one of the bodies and tore the soul out of it, and the shape inside its ribs twisted to match that which it just consumed. 

Valanthe closed the door and we began casting spells in preparation. However the beast must have heard us and was waiting close to the door when Valanthe looked again. We decided without the element of surprise we would be taking a grave risk. So we withdrew. Dravot knew something of these beasts, and he said that it was created for a purpose and could likely not leave that area.

So we withdrew to the garrison and rested and prepared. And returned the next day. It was . . . well let us simply say that for the level of preparation that was indicated, the fight was something less than spectacular.

Jozan opened the door and entered, and I quickly followed and put my first arrow into the beast. Thorkeld moved in followed by Dravot who cast another Recitation. Aran’gel entered and fired.

The beast’s eyes glowed a sickly yellow and fired a beam at Jozan, but it had no effect. It then closed on Jozan, slamming into him. Rackhir entered and fired.

And then Jozan, Shatterspike glowing in his hands, sliced into the foul beast with the vengeance of the righteous.

And it died.

[OOC Note: Didn’t even go a full combat round – Valanthe never got to move. The thing up and died.]

Well, we were well aware that our spells would not last very long so we moved quickly and explored the next room. Inside a room were large troughs with more undead vines in them, and four bark blights at the far end. Two of them were killed before they could react, but the remaining two tunneled into the ground and disappeared. We quickly moved to the other door from the main room. While we were expecting more trouble, we were not ready for what we found.

The room was a large natural earthen chamber littered with vines that were constantly moving. A number of human corpses hung from the ceiling, their blood dripping onto the vines below. In the middle is an enormous growth – some kind of plant of a most unnatural origin. It almost seemed as if it had undergone a sudden growth spurt, an experiment out of control.

As we watched, the floor began to cloud with a white mist. While we watched in horror, the Gulthian spawn came out of their mist forms and became solid before us.


----------



## Zad

*From Valanthe's Journal*

*From Val's Journal...*

Me and my shadow…

We decided to withdraw from the tunnels and regroup at the run-down fortress where we had defeated Thrag and Throg. Better to take on the foul thing fully prepared, death is not a favorite of mine. While the rest of the group were making their preparations, I decided that it was about time I made mine.

I was feeling a little more confident with my shadow abilities, so I decided to try to summon my first shadow. ‘Definitely don’t need the rest of the group to see this yet, especially Dravot’ I thought so I disappeared out of site. Once I remembered what Little Shade had told me, I was ready. “You need to clear your mind and concentrate on the nothingness of shadow” she said, “and once you do, the right one will find you”.

I was a little nervous at first (dancing with the dead is not as familiar to me as some in the group would think – Dravot ;-). But after a few minutes I felt something and out of the shadows, a form took shape. “Greetings young Valanthe, I am Verilunda.”

‘Umm, Greetings..uh, Verilunda. How did you know my name?’, I snapped out. Not my best. She almost looked like a person, like a silhouette of an elf obscured through a poorly-made window. She was all out of focus. ‘How did you get here?’

“Your summons pulled me here. That vile thing had trapped us all, somehow, preventing our spirits from traveling free. But you have pulled me free, and for this you have my gratitude. I cannot say how I come to know your name, exactly. When I heard your summons, I just…seemed to know, somehow. It’s as if you told me many things about yourself, merely by calling.”

‘Oh.’ Well, that was helpful. ‘Wait a moment, what vile thing?” That CAN’T be good.

“The fell beast that you saw in the grove…it is a foul thing. They gave us to it, whether our bodies still lived or no. It…It…It feeds on the living or recently dead. It would have consumed me, given enough time. I do not know what becomes of one after that…thanks to you, I no longer need to worry of it.”

‘The grove?” I asked. Great. She was going to think I was an idiot at this rate. “Hold it. Were you one of the elves that…” I let the words drop as I figured it out. If she had seen the grove, and she had been recently slain near here, then she might have been…

“In life I was in service to Warden Aran’gel, whom you ride with. Under his command did we give chase to the northern marauders, even into the Shield Lands. When they fell upon us with their fiends, we broke and fled. To my shame, we were unable to save our fellows or our commander. Well that your friend Kayleigh came for him.”

‘But you found him later, right?’ Not that this story had a happy ending, but I was just trying to line things up. I do that a lot.

“Aye, true enough. He bid us search for others, until we told him what we’d found. He thought it best that the council hear of it. We feared losing the trail of our quarry, so agreed to meet him at the ruins of Shand in a couple of weeks. Would that we lived long enough to fulfill our duties. We hoped to capture a druid for questioning, when the whole of them attacked…but before long, Iuz’s monstrosities were upon us, and slaughtering everything. They killed some of them, but the druids weren’t ready, and they fell back. We lasted little against their like.”

Duties. What is it with everyone and all these duties? Why can’t they just go do what needs doing? 

“I am sorry that you were caught in the battle that went before. But I am glad to at least be able to help you avoid an even worse fate. We are about to engage one of the groups responsible for the slaughter and I am humbly asking for your companionship in this venture. A small taste of vengance isn’t a bad thing either.” I felt it wise not to mention her to the group yet. I fear that Dravot and Jozan would unwisely spend their focus and energy on her instead of the real evil that awaited us. Secretly, I couldn’t wait to see the reaction from Dravot upon catching a glimse of her. The uptight, zealous ones always make the target for fun and for me, it’s like he has a big target on him… 

Verilunda and I briefly discussed a strategy. She would avoid direct confrontation and help me harry the creature, hopefully giving the party a more advantageous strike in combat. Scorch and I also discussed some strategy. He would dimension door us in behind the creature (I had not discussed Verilunda with him yet). We went to the entrance to it’s lair and open the door… and found that it was waiting. Our fighters responded quickly and attacked as Scorch and myself blink into the room. Verilunda appeared too and moved in to flank. In a second we had the abomination surrounded and a moment later Jozan dealt a powerful blow and sent it back to wherever it came from. Dead, dead, dead.

After the fight, Dravot and Jozan immediately turned their attention to her. “In the name of Pelor I command you to return” started Dravot, but nothing happened. It was all I could do to keep from snickering. ‘Let the games begin,’ I thought.

In the corner where Scorch was, I could swear I heard “Feh”.


----------



## Zad

*DM Observations*

This was originally posted by Wizardru in the old thread. 

-----------------------------------------

This no game for several weeks stuff is for the orcs. I'm going through withdrawl. 


Analysis 1:

Let's start at the beginning, with an examination of the characters from the DM's perspective.

Kayleigh Drake: Kayleigh, played by Zad, is the main chronicler of our tales. We knew from almost the beginning that Kayleigh would be working towards Arcane Archer. Kayleigh has undergone a few changes, most notably the radical change from wizard to sorceror with no one actually noticing. I tossed that idea out to Zad, since it meshes better with the character concept. It's created a little continuity error, but nothing so dramatic that anyone really cares.  Kayleigh's future is tied with her heritage as an Elven Champion, and the baggage that goes with it. She and Rackhir have more in common than choice of weapon.

Scorch: Scorch is a glorious bastard. In his quest for true Arcane Power, he's dragged kicking and screaming along the path of righteousness. Still and all, he may be a curmudgeon, he grudingly calls the rest of the party his friends, and recognizes the fact that they actually might watch his back...a rarity for someone in his position. The more frightening possibility is that Rackhir might be the Robilar to his Rary, but that's another story. Scorch is all about obtaining arcane power....true, unsullied power. To this end, he is veering from the pure path of Wizard into the Arcane Order from T&B (since there's virtually no reason NOT TO). Scorch's future will lead him into to a moral decision that will choose the path he walks forever more. And the Egg is the center of it all.

Rackhir: Rackhir's a bastard, too. He's just not glorious. An OMAC (that's One Man Army Corps, to you), Rackhir burns with hatred for Iuz and anyone stupid enough to cross his path. While Kayleigh opts for the versatility of an AA, Rackhir is unparalleled in his mastery of the bow as an Order of the Bow Initiate. Teemed with Scorch's Greater Magic Weapon preparations, Rackhir can make a pincushion out of virtually anything. And does. Rackhir has an ugly past, and dreams of walking into Dorakaa and adding one final skull to the road...that of the Old One himself. Rackhir's about to discover that there's more to his heritage than his late father ever told him, and his chance for vengenance is dependent on a people long thought dead.

Dravot d'Chandangac:Once merely a follower of the benevolent sun god, recent events have thrust Dravot into the darkness. Though still a member of the church of Pelor, Dravot has become one of Pelor's Shadowed. The tragedies suffered by his family have led Dravot to seek out the Undead wherever he may find them, and return them to wherever they came from. His grandfather and bastard brother are the focus of his waking moments, and the curse under which he lives has made him consider rash actions more than once. He seeks to find his missing brother and father, and either rescue them or see them interred in the family crypts...whichever is possible. His future sees him walking the line between darkness and light, and trying to find out what his grandfather truly intends, and stop him.

Valanthe: Known as the Sleepless, Valanthe is the party's free spirit. Not bound by arcane practices like Scorch or driven by hatred like Rackhir, Valanthe follows Tritherion's creed, often in her own unique way. The bridge between the ethical and pragmatic factions of the group, Valanthe follows her own internal moral compass, choosing what's right over what's lawful...hence her 'Robin Hood'-like activities. Valanthe can be rash, and this can often work against her...but her she also is blessed with uncanny luck that has seen her through some tight spots. Recently she discovered that she was one of the Shadowborn, those touched by Shadow...and her world hasn't been the same, since. Now allied with the Shadow, Verilunda, Valanthe may be the only hope for the liberation of those known as the DarkHeld, and the cruel force known as the Shadow King.

Jozan: With his faithful Dire Wolf Crescent at his side, the Paladin Jozan fears no evil. Unlike the others, Jozan stays true to his calling: a Paladin once, a Paladin always. Armed with the mighty Paladin's Blade, Shatterspike, Jozan can empathize with even the most evil of beings, seeing no one as beyond redemption. His empathy has save several enslaved animals from unnecessary death at the party's hands, and even a Blackguard is not above his mercy. Or his Justice. Jozan's fate will take him to a place where few tread, to speak with a force older than the Greyhawk itself.


And there you have it, a quick overview of the characters from a more impartial observer than Kayleigh. 

Next post, the beginning of an adventure-by-adventure analysis of the game.


----------



## Zad

*More from the DM*

Comments for session one:

This was everyone's first 3rd Edition session...new players for me, in some cases, and the first real game session in months (having two kids, one of which is an infant, will do that to you). We created characters using the character generator that came with the PHB...hence, the party is moderately high in their stats. Not a crisis, but when the beta game came along, I used point buy. The first part of the session was given over to combat discussion, and an explanation of AoOs, which came directly from reading Eric Noah's article concerning same.




> Through circumstances I’ll relate some other time, I’m currently in the employ of Lord Gelban, a powerful Lord in the free city of Greyhawk. Gelban retains many such adventurers to look after special interests of his, and more so in recent months.




A hook was needed to get the game rolling, without wasting time on the 'how did the party meet' rigarmorale. We were all eager to get into the thick of it, and so I informed the players they were all (for differing reasons) in the employ or service of Lord Gelban of Greyhawk. Most of the characters now have back stories and relations to Gelban, but no one did at this time. Heck, we weren't even sure if we would play more than once or twice, at first. 



> Some several months ago, Lord Gelban's 15 year old daughter Ariadne, began slowly falling prey to an illness. At first the effects were slight, but grew in time. She continues to worsen, and will die shortly if a cure cannot be found. Lord Gelban has brought in a variety of clerics, healers, sages and wizards to see to her health, but none have been able to even determine the nature of the illness, let alone provide a cure. Lord Gelban loves his daughter dearly and has become increasingly desperate as she has worsened. He has put his considerable resources to the task of finding a cure for her.




Bit of revision here from Zad's text: I had no name for Ariadne at the outset...in point of fact, it wasn't important, and no one even asked. She didn't get a name until our 8th session, I believe. Poor Kid. Further, note the reasoning added for why the party of 1st level heroes is sent off to help...mainly that this is a remote lead in Gelban's eyes, and he's desperate.



> The group is sent by ship on the three day journey to the port city of Gradsul. The trip is uneventful, however it seems Scorch has little love of the sea. Or perhaps just a great love of leaning over the railing. Then again, Scorch has little love of anything so this can hardly be termed unusual. His constant cries of “Feh!” are amusing in their own way. He seems consumed by his arcane studies, and misses out on the simple wonder of a sunset.




Why did I put the SC in Keoland? Just seemed like a good place for it, honestly. No great scientific method...but it worked well there, and let me bring Drawmij in later. 

Note the reference to Scorch's bad attitude. As originally envisioned, Scorch was a barely tolerated bastard hell-bent on collecting arcane power for it's own sake. It's irritating to no end for him to be constantly drawn to the side of light by the other party members. Except for Rackhir.

As I mentioned to the party members recently, I fear that Rackhir will be the Robilar to Scorch's Rary. Eek.



> Horses and gear are waiting for us in Gradsul, and we set off immediately for Oakhurst. There should be little difficulty in locating the hamlet as it lies at the end of the "New Road". There is a New Road and an Old Road. The New Road it seems has been in use for some two or three centuries, whereas the Old Road likely pre-dates humankind. I find it unusual for humans to think of something a few centuries old as still being “New” but perhaps proximity to Celene has an effect.




DM Confession: all travel numbers here are complete and utter fabrications. We had no idea, and I just made it all up. I wanted Oakhurst remote, but not TOO remote. We still hadn't worked this travel stuff out, yet, and I was fudging it. And in all truthfulness, 'Sunless Citadel' plays it pretty fast and loose with this info, too.



> We had an uneventful week's ride and became more familiar with each other. Aside from some incompatibility between Scorch's horse and his hindquarters, and the associated grumping, the ride is quiet and peaceful.




First rule of having me as a DM: get swimming and riding as skills. If you plan to travel at the same speed as the rest of the group, get the darn skill. Scorch rolled suck continually, until Jozan (I think) took the reigns, and used his animal handling skill to convince the horse to cut Scorch some slack.



> An hour before reaching Oakhurst, we happen on an odd site. Five hundred yards off the road is clearly visible a stag. A large beast, it lies in the rye field unmoving. Closer examination reveals that it has been swarmed by some kind of small beast and drained of its blood. This is made more unusual by the absence of any tracks - in fact the area seems to have been swept to remove such tracks. As we examined the scene, they hear the sound of the wind rustling through the branches. This hardly seems unusual until they realize that there is no wind, and the nearest trees are quite a ways away. At this time, three small shapes seem to be quickly moving away through the rye. Rather than pursue, we chose to continue on their vital mission.




The twig blights make their first cameo. The players could have engaged them, but it would have been a bad idea in the field. They wisely inspect the area, take notes and pass on.



> Oakhurst indeed seems to be everything our troop expected of it. Only about seven or eight buildings and a modest population of farmers and honest folk. We acquire lodgings and wash the dirt of the road from our boots, and our throats. Scorch concluded that the meal was "adequate." High praise indeed. A number of interesting rumors and local gossip are available in any tavern, and Oakhurst is no exception.




Everyone gives those new 3E skills a try, and everyone checks around. There was actually some really good role-playing here, particuarly with Kayleigh and the Hercrule matriarch that isn't really represented here, as we didn't take too many notes at this early stage.



> We also learn that this year's fruit has not yet been sold, for no obvious reason. There are actually two fruits - the red fruit heals. The white fruit is sold in the winter on some years and seems to be as deadly as the red fruit is miraculous. One cannot help but wonder if the white fruit might be involved in the sickness of Lord Gelban's daughter but there is no evidence to support this. The summer fruit typically sells for 1000 gp. The deadly winter fruit sells for some other price, which one can assume is significantly higher with a vastly different clientele.




Essentially, in my version, the town sells the one fruit as an act of charity, and the other fruit as an act of commerce. One might argue they sell the summer fruit out of an act of a guilty conscience. My personal take is that Hercrule is anxious about the deal, but wants to benefit the town, and lets the deal happen, as regreatable as it may be.



> Hercrule's twin children, along with a paladin and ranger they somehow recruited, were convinced they knew the whereabouts of the Sunless Citadel and went off to find it. They have not been heard from for the last week. The Citadel seems to be a local enigma filled with assorted horrors.




Ah, the poor children Hercrule. First in the serious of a long line of NPCs to get their name's bastardized, mocked or both. Particularly as the party had a hard time keeping them straight for some reason. 



> The fruit is not grown but is in fact purchased from the goblins. The goblins have shut off negotiations this year and have been unreceptive to parley. A week ago, the children of Hercrule went off to the Sunless Citadel, where the goblins are apparently dwelling, to attempt to force the issue. They have not returned.




Now, unlike some others, I never had a problem with the layout of the SC. There are way...dangerous ways, for the gobbies to get out. But the reason the fruit was withheld in my version is that Belak wants it that way. He has other plans for them, now.



> (Other details of note are that while the town has tried to cultivate the fruit, all attempts have failed. The bushes are stolen when they reach a certain size. The Mayor blames the goblins for this but that may not be the case.




The players were suspicious of this from the start. They guessed at one idea, but reached the moving plant concept soon after.



> The situation is clear - for us to succeed in their mission, we must follow the trail of Hercrule's children, find the goblins, and hopefully re-open negotiations. (Failing that they could forcefully acquire a fruit, but that will do the townsfolk little good.) In exchange for attempting this task, the town agrees that Lord Gelban may have his fruit if they succeed. Further, Hercrule will reward us for the return of her children's signet ring and definite knowledge of their fate.




As you'll note, I didn't like the fatalistic ending to the story of Hercrule's children and the Paladin, and rewrote the possible outcome. I think the players are more satisfied with the happier (marginally) ending they got, rather than the Nietschze ending Bruce Cordell gave us.



> We found a ravine just before nightfall. Starting at a modest size, it soon fell away until it became bottomless. At one area was a number of ruined pillars. The pillars were covered with crude graffiti in what seemed to be dwarven characters, while the stonework of the pillars themselves had carvings in Draconic. #Grundel observed that the grafitti was not dwarven but goblin, to the effect of "Wretch was here" and so on. The number of spent campfires seemed to indicate that it was a frequent campsite of someone, and goblins seemed most likely. Further the area looked as though it had been brushed of tracks much like the area near the stag.
> Tied to one of the pillars was a knotted rope. Nearby was a somewhat fresher campfire. We suspected we had found the campsite of the twins, and the rope seemed to be a clear indication of their direction. We made camp for the night, being sure to pull up the rope to avoid a nasty surprise.




Ignorant of the true threat, the party take reasonable precautions. Like any good group of adventurers, much fat was chewed over this topic. Most of the group are old-hands at D&D, so the topic of what to do was between Grognards, to be sure.



> In the night, the group was attacked. Two small creatures, about the size of small dogs scuttled up in the darkness. They had the foul stench of evil and blood surrounded them. They could only be described as walking twigs, as though they were made of twigs but twisted to some foul purpose, with sharp claws and teeth of wood.




Poor little bastards. The only thing the poor twig blights ever did was inconvience the archers. Mind you, at 1st level, poison saves are scary...but these guys couldn't take the punishment from front-line fighters.



> This ended the adventure for now. Next week, into the ravine, and certain doom.




Or, more appropriately, Certain RAT Doom. Never has Jozan come closer to death than the very first room of the Sunless Citadel.


----------



## Zad

*From Rackhir*

This was posted to the original thread by Rackhir

-------------------------------------------
Rackhir is not generally inclined to talk about himself much, but were he to do so, this is the story he might tell...
The Border Lord's Son

During the barbarian invasions that Iuz tricked the clans into mounting, warriors of the Wolf clan attacked the castle of a border lord. The fighting was terrible and lasted for many days. The barbarian's dead were heaped about the castle, but the defenders had nearly reached the limits of their strength and another days battle would see the barbarians swarming over the castle walls. That evening, in desperation the border lord led the remnants of his forces in a night time raid upon the barbarian's camp. Having feasted heavily to celebrate their imminent victory, they were drunken and unprepared for the attack. So fate favored the border lord and the barbarian's forces were shattered and broken. During the battle the border lord defeated in single combat the leader of the barbarians, a warrior maid.

Smitten by her ferocity and courage, he took her as his wife. After a few tempestuous years she bore him a son. However, she was too wild and free to suffer long the strictures of civilized lands and she left to return to her clan when the son was only a few years old. Eventually, the son grew into a strong young man, but the loss of his wife had sapped the border lord's will to live. So despite the pride he took in his son a sadness had settled in his heart and his life was always tinged with melancholia. 

When the son was born, as was the custom, a local witch was asked to cast the auguries for the boy's fate. When she did however, she grew pale and silent. When pressed for an answer she would only reply "His Doom lies in the arrow's point". Ever afterwards she would refuse to either speak to or of the border lord's son and should even he come near her, she was known to weep openly. Disturbed by the prophecy, the border lord ordered his son trained in the ways of the bow as he grew. Though he showed much promise with the bow, he was too indisciplined to master it. 

Instead, the son loved to roam the lands of his father, for they were green and fair. He did this often, as much of the wildness of his mother was in his soul. One day as the son rode the borders of the land hunting with his bow, he shot at a large black raven picking at the corpse of a child. Though his shot was true, the raven flew off at the last moment and his arrow only pierced it's wing. The next day as he rode past the same spot, he came upon a stunning dark haired woman. Struck by her beauty, he fell in love with her and brought her back to the castle to be his bride. The son's happiness with his new bride was tempered though, as on the night of their marriage, the border lord finally died. 

From that day on a shadow grew over the lands where the son now ruled. What had once been green and fair, withered and began dying. Infatuated with his new wife, the son of the border lord paid little heed to the problems of the land. His happiness seemed complete when exactly one year after they first met, she bore him twin children, a son and a daughter. Much as he loved his wife, he doted upon the children even more, but even as the children grew, the land slowly died. 

Finally, five turnings of the seasons after they first met, the son of the border lord was awakened from his sleep by the sounds of battle. His wife was gone from their bed and fear for her gripped his heart. Rather than lead the defense of the castle, he searched frantically for his wife and children. In truth though, it would have mattered little what he would have done, as the castle had clearly been betrayed. The main gates hung open and undefended as the servants of Iuz poured through like a black river. Before the sun had risen over the lands, the son of the border lord was captured and with the surviving retainers, brought before the new master of the castle. To his horror, sitting upon the castle's throne was his wife, the minions of Iuz, clearly her servants. 

To each of them she offered a choice, pledge their lives and souls as servants Iuz or die screaming on the altar. The son of the border lord was the first to be put to the choice, but he spat upon her and her master. Her wrath at his refusal was frightening to behold, for she was not used to being denied anything.However she mastered her rage, saying that it was not yet his time and twice more would he be given the choice. Then they were taken away to be buried in the dungeons of the castle and forced to listen to the screams of those who refused. The son of the border lord was brought out to watch, as each made their choice and each time a little of his heart died. Either as the victim bled out their life's blood into that thirsty altar or betrayed him and chose to serve the Old One. Finally, there were none left save him. 

The son of the border lord, still had some hope in his heart, for their children had not been numbered among those put to the choice. As he was dragged into the throne room for the last time, he beheld a sight that caused the last of his hope to wither, for their children were tied down upon the altar. His wife taunted him with his helplessness and her countenance was terrible to behold as she told him that of all sacrifices, one's own flesh and blood, especially that of the innocent, were the most pleasing to Iuz. Since the children were too young to make any true choice to serve one as Iuz, they had no other value to him, save perhaps as two more skulls to decorate the Road of Bone. He pleaded with her to spare them, but as he looked into her eyes he saw that they were devoid of any benevolence and the words became ashen upon his tongue at the hideous glee set upon her face when she brought the knife down upon the bound children.

As she ripped out the hearts of their children, his heart grew as cold as stone and mercy perished from him. Finally, she presented him with the choice for a second time, either chose to serve Iuz or join the corpses of their children on the altar. Enraged beyond measure, the son of the border lord once again laid curses upon her and her master's name. 

However, there are limits to what can be expected even from those who have sworn themselves to Iuz. The sacrifice of her own children had horrified the old retainers, who had pledged themselves to Iuz when put to the choice and the defiance of the border lord's son had heartened many who had once been cowed. So they, now turned against their new master and battle once again raged through the great hall of the castle. The numbers were against them, but desperation drove them, for Iuz does not deal gently with those who betray him and they now bore his mark. Shamed filled others, so they no longer desired anything other than to sell their lives as dearly as possible.

All, but forgotten in the battle, border lord's son managed to free himself and wrenched his father's bow from the wall of the great hall. Taking her by surprise, three times he fired straight and true at his wife, but so great was his rage that the bow snapped as he drew it back for a fourth time. The border lord's son taunted her as she lay dying, spitting out blood along with her last breath, her eyes glazing over as life fled. Despite her death, he continued to mock her savagely and he soaked her body in oil as the last sounds of battle died away. The old retainers who had held true at last, were all slain and he paused for a moment staring at the tapestry of bodies that covered the floor of the great hall, a torch guttering in his hand. 

The hall was rapidly filling with the surviving servants of Iuz, the eyes of the humanoids glowing red in the torchlit gloom. Once again he was presented with a choice, he could either choose life and revenge on her masters or destroy her body in flames and die at the hands of the assembled horde. Swearing dire oaths of revenge upon her and her masters, he fled the great hall, hunted and pursued through out the lands of his father. Luck favored him and he evaded all pursuit, eventually passing the bounds of his fathers lands. 

As he did so the scales were lifted from his eyes and the full extent of his folly was made known to him. His empty heart filled with bitterness at the sight of the fair green lands of his youth, now gray and blasted. 

Making his way south he hunted and slew the servants of Iuz as he had the chance. His hatred lead him to take risks however and once lead him into an ambush that he barely survived. He entered a camp belonging to those who still fought the Old One, covered in his own blood and thus acquired his war name of "The Red Archer". The ambush had been a very close thing and once again, only luck had enabled him to survive. It taught him caution and the necessity of allies. 

So once again he turned south, for it is said all roads lead to Greyhawk and perhaps the road he must travel would too. He knew that to gain revenge on those responsible for the ruin visited upon his family and lands, would require far more power than he had now. So, it was upon the road to that power, which he now set himself. He bent himself to the study of the bow with a determination that would have frightened him in another, only months earlier. For when he was ready Iuz would pay, his lands would be laid waste, his minions slain and the skull of the Old One himself would be the capstone on the Road of Bone. 

Thus ends the story of the border lord's son.


----------



## Zad

*Flight of Arrows - Chapter 6*

*Flight of Arrows - Chapter 6: I get misty….*

Note that this was when I was trying to add more detail to the story. Something I later decided just made for slow, dull reading.

*OOC Notes:*

Experience this week was 1829 – the DM was not in a “rounding” mood. 250 point bonus to those that were there on time. 

Next game will be the weekend of September 14/15. Look for e-mails very soon from Wizardru about your rewards.


*Notes for Next Time:*

Think about how long you need before we leave. Dravot is going to be gearing up to face undead and that seems a wise precaution so consider your prep work. We’re not rushed.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

The six forms took shape out of the mist even as we were considering the danger before us. One glowed more brightly than the others and had a deathly aura about him. His voice rapsed out “The master has determined they all must die. Kill all. Kill all except. . . the archer. He can be harmed but he must not be killed.”

What plans for Aran’gel would Gulthais have? There was no time to ponder it as they attacked. It was clear to me that these misshapen figures were once part of Aran’gel’s men – elves all, but twisted and deformed by the foul tree. Some still bore the markings of his unit in their tattered clothes. 

Reacting before any of them could, I fired a hurried arrow that went wide, and withdrew from the room. Surely Scorch would be of a mind to drop a fireball in this small space, attacking the beasts and the tree together, and I wanted to be well out of the way. One of the minions attempted to exert control over Valanthe’s mind but she shook it off. She was protected from evil in any case, and I was hoping that the beasts would not live long enough for it to help them if they did charm her. Thorkeld attempts to turn the undead monsters but his will was not strong enough to have any effect. Rackhir fired three shots doing severe damage to one of the minions. As it was hit it sprayed green ichor much like the other gulthias horrors we’ve encountered. The leader muttered and cocked his head at an improbable angle and released a cone of cold across several of the group doing considerable damage. One of the minions clawed at Jozan but missed while Jozan was more skilled and landed two solid blows. Valanthe took a swing at one of the roots of the tree, and it released ichor and a swirling black smoke and then she exited the small room also. One of the minions did not care for my attempt at a retreat and followed into the outer chamber, followed shortly by Aran’gel who dodged past it. Dravot had determined the area was desecrated and the undead would be stronger near the tree. But he still managed to call upon the light of Pelor and send three of the minions cowering into the corner. Scorch created a dimension door and removed both himself and Dravot from the tree’s room.

[OOC Note: Begin Round 2] 

I shoot at my pursuer. Only two shots land – sloppy at such close range, but they found purchase. Thorkeld exited the room and Rackhir stepped into the doorway and shredded the one minion in the outer chamber. It sprayed everywhere and there was no way for Rackhir to avoid all the liquid. It immediately turned back into a mist and moved off towards the tree. Meanwhile in the room another minion got its claws into Jozan, and while only a minor wound, the negative energy that went with it chilled Jozan to his soul. The leader decided he also did not care for our withdrawal and teleported into our midst. 

Dravot had the proper tools for dealing with such a beast and used them. The room darked slightly as he invoked Pelor’s word and a brilliant light appeared from behind him, leaving him merely a darkened shadow. The blast of light tore into the lead gulthian and burned him deeply.

Jozan took a return swing at the beast before him then also exited the room. Scorch released a volley of magic missiles at the leader adding further injury. Valanthe also closed and scored a good strike. Aran’gel, lacking a good field of fire, simply resorted to a magic missile himself.

[OOC Note: Begin Round 3]

I shot at the leader but he was quite agile and only one arrow struck true. Oddly, sometimes he also sprayed green ichor, and other times did not. Rackhir turned another minion into a fine mist. The leader let loose yet another spell – this time an ice storm. He was also within the area but seemed to have no interest in the hail pelting him, though it did him some harm. Jozan closed with him and struck with Shatterspike.

Scorch was not amused at the hailstorm assault and in retaliation, did what he does well and detonated a fireball in the midst of the tree. The room exploded in a conflagration and there was a deafening boom. 

[OOC Note: At this point, the term “Gulthias the Flatulent” was coined.]

Dravot was quite injured and healed himself. Aran’gel used one of the spells he had shown me and fired a healing arrow into Dravot, further aiding him. 

[OOC Note: Begin Round 4]

The destruction of the tree seemed to slow down the vampire and I was able to find solid purchase for two arrows and the damage was severe. Even though he was quickly healing the damage, our combined assault was having the desired effect and as my last shaft struck home, there was a cracking sound as if wood was splintering. His body began to petrify and he staggered backwards. His joints bent in ways that a mans cannot and his head snapped back and then completely off. He began screaming as his body broke into pieces “No Master, I promised I will not fail… I will…” and as his head hit the floor he was finally silent as he shattered into a thousand pieces of petrified wood. Hanging in the air where he stood was a small glowing object vaguely resembling a human heart made of wood – it was glowing purple and pulsed in a foul manner. It was surely the heart of the beast, and the seed for another tree.

After much debate about the seed, Dravot channeled energy into the heart. He was saying something about a stream of negative energy he could perceive feeding the heart. He felt another force channeling back at him and made out the image of another man standing before a black heart. But Dravot overcame the counterforce and severed the link of energy. The seed was still intact and fell to the floor however, and Jozan took Shatterspike to it to make an end of this horror. It released an acrid smell of sulfur and strawberries. 

[OOC Note: This was a Gulthian tree, not a Guthias tree.]

At the opposite end of the room was a passage. It had been totally choked over with vines but the explosion of the fireball had burned it away and revealed the passage. In the room was a sight I would not soon be forgetting.

The simpler elements were various orc, ogre and goblin bodies with vines growing into them. It seemed to be some kind of food source for the tree but the vines had burned or withered. Some of the beasts were still barely alive when we found them. At points there were twisted aberrations of flowers blooming. No evil or undead was sensed in this room though surely evil had been done here. 

However this was the least interesting part of the room. For set in the floor at certain intervals were large glowing crystals in some intricate pattern. Between them were lines of vines carved into the floor. The room consisted of three rings, each smaller in diameter but deeper into the floor and the ceiling mirrored the floor. At the base is a silver disk with carvings in ancient elven script. It seemed to be one large device of some kind. Magic flowed through the whole area. After some time we noticed that the crystals were moving slightly around the room. You did not so much see them move as you did noticed after a time that they had moved. There is also the sense that the place has been used recently. 

Since the device seemed to be of elvish manufacture I was willing to take the risk and step into the circle that seemed to be the control point. Valanthe had somehow disarmed some kind of trap but there seemed to be no other defenses.

As I stood starting at the closest crystal, a map of Greyhawk formed and I could see shimmering points. When I focused on this, I could clearly see the map and the points marking locations. It didn’t take long to realize these were the same as the location of the binders we found in Chavram’s research. I focused on the shifting shapes in another crystal and a voice in my mind said “Specify”. I chose something benign to begin and said “Gelban.” The voice said “I do not know this one.” I then took what I felt was a major risk and spoke the name of Ali Bin Yala. The room filled with light and there was a huge image of Brindenford. But not as it is today. As it was many years ago – it was hardly recognizable except for the terrain features. I managed to zoom in on parts of the image – there were elves and some Sule. Many of them wore amulets on their neck with the symbol of an eye – the same symbol that the Silent Brother wore when he retrieved the fruit from us so long ago.

At this point I felt that I had pushed my luck as far as I cared to. I turned off the image with an act of will and left the circle.

At some point someone noted that Valanthe had disappeared from the chamber and then reappeared. Frankly I hardly saw this as noteworthy.

We had a long day, and we were concerned about what else might be lurking about. We withdrew to the barracks once again and rested without incident. During the night I spoke with Aran’gel. We had seen many strange turns here, and I was uncertain if he had found the redemption he sought. Certainly he had not had the satisfaction of driving a knife into Ravenna or rescuing the few men he had left behind and I was concerned that he would remain in a depression without some sense of closure.

Fortunately my fears were unfounded. Having now understood the full scope of the battle that was here, he knew there was no way he could have prevailed against such forces. Indeed, even speaking with Verulinda, he felt much better – she did not blame him for what had occurred and knew that no fault lie with him. (Verulinda is something I have not mentioned much – largely because I have no idea how to react to it. She is the shade of one of Aran’gel’s people and seems to be under Valanthe’s direction. But she seemed content to be in Valanthe’s service – the fate that awaited her was surely more gruesome.) But she has proven to the be redemption he sought, and his mood seems lighter now, and he is ready to move on. I even caught him smiling twice. I was tempted to point this out to him, but decided to just enjoy it for now, lest he feel the need to brood further.

In the morning Dravot prepared a sending, and sent a message to Lord Gelban: “Found room like crypt excavation ten crystals in 5 colors tied to planes. Room near town of Shand. Conserving spells. Please advise.” He replied with the following: “Investigate if prudent and safe. Have already sent help. Return when done getting information. Cupric advises you have found “Great Map”. Contact it if can.”

Clearly we had already made contact. The notion of the “Great Map” confirms that this was not a binder but some kind of index as Dravot had already suspected. We returned to the map to investigate further.

Scorch entered the circle and activated the map. He investigated some of the points in the barrier peaks. It seemed that the images presented were all dated to some extent. This one had some columns and four gigantic purple crystals around a central altar 30 feet high with stairs rising up to it. There were three concentric mithril rings rotating about and in the center was a humaniod shape that was more solid in the torso and more wispy in the legs. It was the same image Jozan and I saw in his vision but here it is in much better condition, leading us to believe we saw a more recent image in the vision.

Scorch asks if this is the past, and it is. It was made in the year 781 (holding to no standard we know) but it is currently around 2291 or 2371 by the device’s reckoning. The device seems to have a djinn imprisoned in it and is responsive to questions but seems to have a lot of attitude. It does not seem to care for Scorch as not one of the true users and will only provide limited functionality. It is the same for me. However it will do certain things and we now have a list of all the sites and the djinn that is tied to that particular binder. The Map being says that he holds the ransom – the lives of the nine. We ask what functions he will serve and he says he will give a vision of the locations of the hidden objects (both greater and minor), will give the names of the princes, and will grant access to other features to those of those of the blood, and will give the Great Tour to those of the blood.

[insert list when I get it] 

Meanwhile when all this is happening, Rackhir has been having dizziness. Rackhir steps into the circle and is greeted warmly by the entity. It seems the Fruzti are of “the blood”. The being is now much more helpful. The other functions it will provide are to speak to the nine, if they are still connected. Apparently some of the sites have not been maintained and are therefore unreachable. The crystals are also planar gates and can be used to travel the planes. The great tour will grant access to the receptacles and perhaps can open a gateway to them. Again, there are the problems mentioned with the sites not being maintained. All the djinn were bound using one of the nine keys. He is the tenth and is ransom for all the other nine to maintain their safety to some degree. Each crystal is an analog for one of the princes.

Other questioning revealed the Shadow King appeared about 500 years ago. He knows the Shadow King has taken over the Spectrum Citadel at the heart of the plane of shadow. This coincided with the first of the binders going off line. 

Contact was lost with Ali bin Yala hundreds of years ago but until recently the map could still monitor the gateway. But now the facility has been disrupted and the binder taken. His was the most powerful of the binders but even it has limits. Combined, multiple binders become exponentially more powerful. 

When asked who has used the map recently, the being made it plain that Ravenna had been here, as well as Chavram some 75 years ago. 

I was pondering if we could use the map to open a portal to somewhere nearer to Greyhawk, so that we would not have to travel through the Shield Lands again. There was a binder in Celene and that would be a safe point to journey from, and the thought of a visit home was very compelling. However there were two problems. First was that the binder in Celene had been turned off by those controlling it. (Rather unusual.) A portal could be opened but it would be somewhat a risk as to where we would appear (mid air perhaps). The other issue was that of Aran’gel. I was not sure how welcome he would be at home. While we were still investigating I took him aside and asked him how he would be received if we appeared in Celene. He did not seem to understand my question at first, but then it suddenly dawned on him that I had more knowledge of who he was than I had let on up til now. He muttered a bit of a curse at Hammer and said that while he would not be unwelcome, they would probably not want to let him leave. Weighing all this, Celene seemed an unsuitable choice.

While I pondered I went outside. One of the others had mentioned some storms to the south that smelled of a druidic nature. We were all becoming concerned that the druids would send reinforcements so I went to check. Outside I was surprised to find a great number of druids patiently waiting. Along with three copper dragons.

One of the druids indicated that they had cleaned up the gulthias horrors that had routed after we had destroyed the tree. They were the aid sent by Lord Gelban. They have concluded that this place must be defended and since it is in a forested area they were confident they could hold it unless Iuz turned his main army against it.

Given that they seemed to be well ready to defend the area, and that we had thoroughly investigated the Great Map we were unsure how to proceed. I asked the druid if he had instructions for us, and he seemed confused. It suddenly hit me I was probably speaking to the wrong people, and turned to the dragons. (I was disappointed that Tongs was not among them.) I asked the largest one if he had instructions from Lord Gelban from us and the voice that responded set me smiling. It was Hammer, and he was going on with his usual flair. We were to return to Greyhawk immediately. I had thought that we were to be borne on the dragons before me. But that notion brought a new round of diatribe from Hammer, who most certainly does not see himself as a beast of burden. And the notion of how to transport the mounts was another issue.

Instead the druids began unpacking some type of device. As it took shape, it seemed to be a large mithril doorway or portal. It took them some hours to unpack it and set it up. Once assembled, I could see slots on the sides with various colors and metals corresponding to various dragons. (I was slightly surprised the colors were represented also.) We set about to recovering our gear and preparing to leave.

Even assembled it took further time for them to activate it, and for the portal to stabilize enough to cross. We step through and arrive in Greyhawk, at Lord Gelban’s estate.

The guards are a bit shocked but recognizing us, are not alarmed. While they take the horses, we’re told Lord Gelban is indeed home. The topic of a bath draws immediate attraction from myself and Valanthe and we all return to our rooms to clean up, since Lord Gelban did not require us immediately.

After a refreshing and unnecessarily long bath, I put on some suitable clothes and met up with my fellows. We found the deputy steward since Nasir was apparently away on some business. He was a bit flabbergasted by us but we were shown in to Lord Gelban in the garden. 

Lord Gelban waited in the garden with one of the Silent Brothers. Nearby Ariadne was picking flowers. Seeing my raised eyebrow at this, Lord Gelban indicated that with the recent feud in the Scarlet Brotherhood, she was apparently safe for now.

Lord Gelban listened as we related the full details of our findings to him. He indicated he has turned the information over to the Silverring and his people are investigating more fully. He expects we will soon have more information on what is occurring. 

He has also received troubling news. He then turns to Anselm to explain the matter, indicating the Silent Brother. This is indeed the same man we met at Oakhurst so many months ago. He tells us that his order sealed the citadel after we had finished with it. However they did not realize that the tree was still holding a vampire within it. The vampire killed three of his brothers in its escape. 

It is the obligation of their order to make sure that dangerous knowledge remains unknown to those who should not know it. They could not relocate the binders to their tower, however they did assist the greys in hiding them away. Obviously they have failed however. His order did not know the locations of the binders themselves - that information was lost over time, however one of the locations we retrieved coincides with the location of the escaped vampire. In the hills of Ten is the Nightfang Spire. They believe that the escaped vampire is there. 

They have been monitoring the spire as best they can and somehow the spire is broadcasting negative energy. The brother sent to monitor the spire has experience with the clergy and he is quite sure of the matter. The order also believes that this vampire is Gulthias himself, and that he is in league with Chavram somehow. The device that Gulthias is using to broadcast negative energy is likely linked to the mark on Dravot’s arm.

Lord Gelban wishes us to journey to Nightfang Spire and put an end to Gulthias. We should destroy this device he is using, and in doing so may aid Dravot. Lord Gelban urges us to make our preparations. While the matter is important, we can take some time to prepare properly and when we are ready we may return through the gate back to Shand. He also told us we would find more tokens of his appreciation in our quarters.

And here I was so pleased to be away from Iuz’s lands…


----------



## Zad

*Loot!*

Originally posted by Wizardru
-------------------------------------

Awaiting each of the members of the Savage Sword of Meepo in their personal quarters:

11,000 g.p. (Yes, that is _PER PERSON_).

One Gelban's Golden Scale (see below)

Gelban has expressed no exact date that he expects you to set out. However, he is hoping you won't delay for too significant a period of time. It is safe to say that after a week, he will begin to inquire after your plans.

Shortly after your return, Thorkeld and Dravot depart for the Temple of Pelor. Thorkeld says his farewells, as he is planning to leave from the Temple and take a ship to Ahlissa. Aran'gel and Kayleigh take a sojourn into the city, as well, though it sounds as if they intend to spend more time in shops and taverns than at prayer. Scorch grumbles something about the Great Library and the University, but is extremely vague about his actual doings. Valanthe also mentions something about a shopping trip, but oddly enough doesn't intend to do it at the great market...and only mentions something about the 'midnight market'...though she won't mention where it is. Rackhir spends some time shopping, and can be seen the shops at the low market...and inquiring about menageries. 

Specific rolls will be made on Friday, as needed. Please prepare any shopping lists you might have, and remember that the market price in the books is not the price you'll pay in Greyhawk. (in other words, leave yourself some bargaining and markup room).

--------------------------------------------------
[bi]Gelban's Golden Scales[bi]

Each one of these items is an actual scale from a gold dragon, worked in the shape of a brooch with a design of a gold dragon worked onto it. Created in small sets of six, the scales must always be taken from the same dragon. When worn, each brooch confers the ability to communicate telepathically with any or all of those wearing the other brooches from the set, as per the MindLink ability from the Psionics Handbook (i.e. conscious communication over an unlimited intraplanar distance). Dispelling any individual scale from a set effectively displels all the scales in that set, regardless of physical distance. An individual wearer can consciously choose to sever a scale's connection to the other scales, but this merely silences communication to and from that brooch, it does not actually break the connection between them.

Caster Level: 10th; Prerequisites: Craft Wondrous Item, Detect Thoughts;
Market Price: 40,000 gp; Weight: 1 lb.


----------



## Zad

*The Heart of Nightfang Spire - Chapter 1*

Gnarly flying octopi-things that kicked our asses...

*The Heart of Nightfang Spire - Chapter 1*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience breaks down as follows:

Dravot: 2255
Jozan: 2592
Kayleigh: 2592
Rackhir 1917
Scorch: 1917
Valanthe: 2592

*Loot List:*

What we got and who has it at the moment:

3 gems at 50gp ea (general)
potion of neutralize poison (general)
potion of invisibility (general)
ring of blue stone (transmutation magic, Rackhir)
10 +1 arrows (Rackhir)
Cloak of elvenkind (Kayleigh)
23pp
10gp
450gp
4234sp


*This Week’s Adventure:*

Given the generosity and nature of Lord Gelban’s reward, there seemed only one thing to do – go shopping. I had been thinking that while my bow has been a wonderful asset, perhaps it should be replaced with something more suited to the horrors we’ve been encountering. So with Aran’gel in tow, we set off towards the High Market.

I have never shopped for anything quite of this quality before, and while I was familiar with the Greyhawk market, I was unsure what to expect when asking for something this nature. I knew I wanted to go back to my preferred composite bow – it was much easier to shoot from horseback and I wanted the stronger pull of my old bow. I also found the flaming properties of my current bow to be quite effective and was hoping to find something similar. We stopped at two shops and looked at what they had, but I didn’t find anything that suited me. A third shop was suggested by Aran’gel and we went inside.

It was more of a house than a shop, but there were a number of fine elven bows on racks on the wall. An aging elf came out from another room and greeted us, mentioning it was pleasant to see Aran’gel again but didn’t seem to know him by name.

I told him what I was seeking in a new bow. He paused and looked me over – I was asking for a fairly expensive item and he was certainly considering if I could afford such a thing. I’ve made many changes in the past months, and my wardrobe was of course among them, but I was certainly not dressed as a high Lady. After a moment of reflection, he walked over to a rack on the wall and removed a bow and brought it to me.

This was not a bow for my purchase however – this was clearly just a test. I gave the bow a thorough inspection and made several remarks. He nodded approvingly. He was trying to determine the type of person who he was selling to, and I in turn was examining a sample of his work. I handed the bow back to him, having established that he is a skilled craftsman and that I was no average bowman, and we then began in earnest. I debated removing my gloves and allowing him to see the mark of the Champion but somehow that seemed a cheap tactic and unappealing.

He then brought several bows of fine quality before me. Some were longbows and some composite but all magical. I looked over each in turn, ending with a fine bow. I asked for an explanation of its construction and was pleased with the details. The bow was wrapped in bark as a final covering from a birch sapling and it had the look and feel of silk and a warm golden-white sheen. Over this was arcane scrollwork written in gold ink. The string was a finely spun silk. Through all my detailed questions the gentleman answered patiently but was uncertain if I would be able to afford this most expensive of the bows he showed me. Aran’gel was simply standing there, amused by the whole thing. 

He really can be quite delightful when he’s smiling. More on that later though.

I also inspected the dweomer of the bow and nodded. It had the level of enchantment I sought and the blazing property that worked so well on Gulthias creations. I willed the bow ablaze and was pleased, and let the flames die.

He asked if I would like to shoot it, waving a hand towards the back of the house. Through two doorways, a cabinet and an open window there was a small strip of land out back, and a target hung at the far end, some 50 yards away. Aran’gel was watching me more closely – another subtle test perhaps? So be it.

Rather than leave the house, as this seemed to be the focus of the test, I simply took an arrow from my quiver, and drew. The draw on the bow was heavy and felt good – my current bow was too easy to pull and the arrows too slow as a result. I slowly released the tension and commented to Aran’gel casually about the pull, then quickly looked up and snapped the shot at the target. The arrow landed with a satisfying thump and was easily a hand’s width into the target. 

The elf just smiled sightly.

Aran’gel, who preferred the longbow to a composite, asked if I would be comfortable firing it quickly. He was hiding a smile as he asked the leading question. I shrugged and said “Good question.” And promptly dropped three shots into the target next to the first one. He walked over so he could see the target out the window, and said “Hm. Within a gold piece,” as if it were merely adequate. I smiled back at him and said “Well there is a slight breeze you know.”

The elf smiled slightly more, and nodded. Seems I had just earned some credibility at least.

Now that I had a bow I was pleased with, there was the matter of the deal itself. I produced my current bow from my quiver and let him examine it, saying I would like to trade this as part of the deal. He gave it a cursory examination and nodded and we began talking of price. I have little skill for this, but fortunately the man was not a cutthroat. We arrived at a price of 14,400 gold for the bow and while I might have done better, I was pleased at having precisely what I was seeking. I gave him the letters of mark from Lord Gelban, which he accepted without question as well as the necessary cash and some of the sleep arrows I’d been carrying around, and we left with my new purchase. Of course we spent the next several blocks debating the merits of longbows and composite bows. It seems to come down to a style thing – I find the size and power more manageable whereas he finds the longbow better in the types of fighting he does.

I was a bit stunned at having spent quite so much money in a single item, but my life has changed greatly, and this just seemed one more drop in the bucket. Since I had some coin left to me, we stopped in the low market for a magical backpack. Not a very useful item in battle, but the utility was unquestionable. 

After that business was done, we wasted the rest of the day walking, talking and (to a large degree) drinking. There was a common room Aran’gel knew with a rather unusual concoction. It was . . . rather effective.

We had about a week and a half before I had to return to Shand, and Aran’gel would depart for Highfolk. Scorch was scribing spells and everyone else was making their own preparations, so we had some time to pass. We spent the days on furthering my training – I could tell Aran’gel was at least trying to get me to the point of being somewhat self-teaching knowing we would only be able to work together intermittently. He regretted that he would have to leave me so soon, but was hoping that Lord Gelban could arrange something to help us in the future with my training.

As for the evenings, we spent them talking, or laughing or (once again) drinking. One night it was gambling and we managed to leave a few gold richer than we entered. Another it was a concert. I was enjoying the chance to get to know him more, and he seemed to be returning more to what I imagine he was before Ravenna struck.

I was of course curious as to what he would do regarding his arm. Dravot had seen to it that his arm could be fully returned to normal if Aran’gel wished it. Aran’gel however was hesitant. While the trauma of it all seems to have passed behind him, the metal arm was a scab that he liked to pick at. He also enjoyed the discomfort it gave others on some level. I’ve been encouraging him to release it and have his hand restored but he was not listening much. At least he wasn’t, until I mentioned something about the attributes of living flesh as opposed to cold metal, and then I think he gave the matter thought on a rather different level. Some times men must be led in spite of themselves…

We spoke on any number of subjects. One of them was of course the Champions. I had been considering a visit home some time soon, and I was quite distressed about how to handle it all. I’m afraid I must have sounded like a babbling idiot. But I was nervous – I had no idea how my parents would react or if I would be welcomed. I had thought that a Champion was always a Champion – I didn’t know they “sparked” as he liked to say. What would happen when I went home? Was there someone I had to speak to? What would my parents think? Should I not mention Aran’gel’s name?

I blithered like this quite a bit.

He was generally patient and understanding. "Champions are not born, except in the fires of combat, any more than a hero is born. As it was for me, so it was for you, and so it has been since the Awakening. Learned from the bow of the First Archer during the War of the Storm Lords, in peril with the dark spider-lovers. Some say it was a boon from the Moonbow herself, in our time of greatest need. Some say that dwarves can cook well. Who can say?" 

He also told me that I would not need to tell “someone”. One thing he made clear about Celene...the Queen knows from whence her Champions come and whither they go. Once someone has 'sparked', the Queen and her court mages have ways of tracking the comings and goings of the Champions within the borders of Celene, or at least near enough to court. When I return, they shall know it. The Queen may even wish to see me.

At one point I just looked at him and asked “So when were you planning to tell me?”

He sighed, and rolled his eyes to the heavens. He leaned against the nearby wall and crossed his arms before he answered. "I suppose I would have mentioned it, sooner or later. After I thought you wouldn't react...oh, like you are now, I'll say.”

I just glared at him, trying to look more serious than I felt at his jest.

“I left court to live my life as Aran'gel, not the second Prince Brightflame. I am still an elf, just as you are. If I could make it so, I'd gladly lose my title...but wishing never makes a thing. You might claim I ran, and perhaps you'd be right...but I did not leave for cowardice, and when my people called, I was there." 

I answered him "I'd never claim you ran. You are not such a man. I am not your judge and you must go where your path takes you. And I can see why you would not trumpet your title loudly. " 

I couldn’t resist and started grinning a girlish grin. “But imagine me telling my sister of what an interesting man I had met and what I might have said when she told me your birthright?”

“I do not keep my heritage secret, Kayleigh. Neither do I point it out...to anyone. I wish to be known for who I am, not who birthed me. My mother and brother cast long shadows...and sometimes one needs to step into the light on their own. I would have told you, but after you were more confident in your skills. Just the knowledge I was a champion was enough to make you awed...that I was a prince, as well? Perhaps I did you a disservice, but there was no mischief in it, please believe that. There are no ranks among our kind. All champions are equal to another, in our eyes. Some have more skill or experience, but we are all of us of a kind. We answer no summons but the Queen, and even that begrudgingly.”

I nooded at that. “Fair enough. You were certainly told by Lord Gelban of my birth and rank, but perhaps didn't realize that I am used to rank, but there as you say there was no mischief in that. I have always placed more stock in the man than the title. But given my father, I surely understand what you mean about stepping out of the shadow they cast.”

What caught my ear more was his statement about the Queen. I had not realized the Champions were so autonomous. I have much to learn.

“As to your family? They will accept it or they won't. I am certainly no expert on how to deal with that. But if they love you, as I know they must, then they will adapt, one way or the other. I know of your father, at least...and while he may have trouble with what you've become, I doubt very much he will not be proud.” 

Again I was smiling madly. “He has never had any trouble being proud. Enough of all this. You've convinced me - I am what I am, and others shall do what they will. And I will do as I have done this last year - follow my own path.”

As the days went by something else became clear. At first Aran’gel was conflicted – he saw me as a student that needed instruction but was also found me attractive and that was difficult for him. However as he has seen me come to a better understanding of my abilities as a Champion, and knows now that I know of his heritage and am not awed by it. He was realizing that there would be no evil in a relationship with me and was much more at ease with my casual flirtations. Over the days we definitely became more than just a student and teacher but the change is slow and subtle, as with most things where elves are involved.

Lord Gelban was showing an unusual level of urgency about our mission. We had determined to wait twelve days before departing. This was largely to give Scorch time to acquire and scribe new spells. After a week, Lord Gelban was becoming more ill at ease but simply verified we were still planning to leave shortly. During this time we each spent time largely on our own, or in selected company as the case may be. Jozan commented he saw a great deal of traffic in and out of the city, largely refugees from Geoff. He also heard the Duke was planning an attack on the giants.

On the morning of the twelfth day, the portal was activated for our return to Shand. While they were finishing with the portal, he and I said our goodbyes. He gave me a phantom moonflower and I was touched. Where he got it from I couldn’t possibly guess as they do not grow anywhere save elven forests and at night, they sparkle like a lightning bug. He wished me luck, and I leaned up and kissed him for the first time, which he returned warmly. And as it ended, I could hear Scorch shouting outside for me to hurry before the portal collapsed. I pinned the blossom to my blouse, and with a quiet smile I left.

We stepped through the portal and looked around. The area had been fortified in the time since we left, with many of Lord Gelban’s guards about to aid in the defense. There were also a great number of animals and large predators in the woods, surely recruited by the druids to defend the Great Map.

We ask if there have been any attacks or attempts to re-take the map. There have been no attacks, but they do have word of troop movements by Iuz. One of the Greater Boneheart, Venom, has a mass of 25,000 orcs and ogres that are moving into the Rift Canyon. The rebels in the Rift are apparently causing trouble but that information is unreliable. Venom is known to be a powerful wizard but little more is known of him. The troops moved in seven days ago and have not been seen since.

We are given directions to reach Nightfang Spire, and we head out at a brisk pace. Obviously the roads are certain death for us so we keep well clear of them. After several hours, we catch sight of a huge dust cloud. It’s a force of 30,000 gnolls heading southward. The advance scouts spotted me but did not seem to notice the rest of the group and were unconcerned by a single elf. [OOC Note: I was rolling only two things tonight – really really low, or a 20. My hide check rolled low.] We retreated deeper into the woods. They are carrying a standard but not of Iuz – it was Chavram’s banner. We simply stared at each other silently in shock. We retreated even deeper into the woods to try to put some space between us and them. Apparently a few of them saw me, but it was not worth more than a few pot shots from their crossbows.

Towards evening we are moving through the deep forest. Suddenly several arrows land in the trees near us – one near each of us. It was clearly a warning. We stopped immediately but did not draw any weapons. I removed the arrow casually and examined it – it was a fine make and of a vaguely elvish style but still somewhat crude. We all stay still as Valanthe goes to scout the area. 

The telepathic contact of the dragon scales showed it’s worth as Valanthe was able to keep us updated as she moved out. She quickly found the group of wild elves that were carefully watching us. She was so close as to be in their midst but we cautioned her that they would be a very jumpy lot and suddenly appearing would not be good for her or us. She make a less threatening appearance and spoke with them. (Interestingly their leader was also a champion – she had the mark and the glow of the arrow on her bow. I didn’t realize it crossed all the elven communities but it is logical once I considered it.) We had not realized we were trespassing on their territory. Valanthe explained we were merely passing through and meant no harm, and we would exit as soon as possible. 

I briefly debated attempting a conversation with my kindred spirit but since the situation was under control there was no sense risking more. We were true to our word and moved quickly through their lands. We set no fire and caused no disturbance. They were always near watching us, sometimes getting as close as a stones-throw when I was alone on guard, but they would not speak to me. 

After three days later when we emerged from the Faustwood into a scraggly rocky land. There were no sign of the grand roads of the Shield Lands here – just lots of low scrub and rocks. There were several signs of troop movement in the area but none that were recent. We periodically see a burned out farm but all of them have been abandoned for years. 

Another day later, we begin to see the southern edge of the mountain range. We also see a small city, or what remains of it. The gates were smashed from the inside and the walls didn’t fare much better. The town was laid to waste – surely there were giants involved. From the number of skeletons it was clear nobody remained to bury the dead. This is most likely the ruins of Aetherstone, not far from the border with the Theocracy of the Pale. The town probably was home to 30,000 people. It was smashed at least 20 years ago though. On the walls at odd places are the symbol of Drawmij – most unusual. Near the symbols were always some fresh plantings (within the last couple months). The plants have a faint magical aura. We decide not to risk further investigation on something so unrelated to our mission.

As we moved further into the low hills, the wildlife began disappearing until there was nothing left once we reached the peaks. Dravot faintly made out the trail to the old north road that was in our instructions. [OOC Note: we have nobody in the party with any kind of wilderness skills at all so it’s easy to see how we missed the warning signs the wild elves left us, or how we are lucky to find a trail even if it does have a neon sign over it.] Nightfang Spire was supposed to be near a series of Menhir rings. Except for some occasional weak weeds, there was a complete lack of life. We followed the road and the walls gradually rose higher and higher, until they were some two thousand feet above us as the road sloped into the crevasse. Eventually we saw a stony fang thrusting up from the canyon floor. Wider at the base, it tapered gradually ending at the top in jagged stone splinters three hundred feet above us. The high canyon walls cloaked the spire in shadow but we could see the carved sides covered with porticos, faces, ledges, gargoyles, and other baleful textures. At the base, a small stone structure abutted the spire. It was a small dry mortared building that was old, but not as old as the spire itself. All around the base the ground was covered with some kind of vine – odd given the lack of vegetation to this point. And there was of course the unmistakable smell of evil. Valanthe moved closer and scouted around the tower – she could make out some shapes in the building – possibly bodies. As she scouted, a storm was rolling in.

We elected to make camp and enter on the morning. We took shelter against the cliff wall from the rain and kept a vigilant watch, but the night brought nothing but rain and thunder.

In the morning we prepare and move closer. There is clearly something amiss with the vines around the base. There is a faint tinkling sound in the air near the vines. Someone realizes it is blightvine, and once close the music will lure you to sleep until you die. This presented quite an obstacle and we were at a loss on how to clear the vines. Rackhir finally used two of the explosive arrows (made with the material from the Brotherhood pirate ship) to clear a path. (I wager he was tired of waiting to use the arrows in that way.)

Just after the vines were cleared, there was another crack of lightning, but this time much closer. A bolt descended into the crevasse and struck Scorch, burning him badly. We found ourselves once again under some type of (we assumed) druidic attack. We quickly crowded into the small stone building as the only shelter from the lightning.

There was hardly enough room for us all with the corpses – 14 in all. Most were vermin but there were several humans and one wild elf. The oldest body was some six months dead. The wild elf was oddly well equipped carrying a quiver with ten magical arrows, a bow (broken) and a cloak, also magical. (I examined the cloak and it was a cloak of elvenkind, making me glad I had not purchased one on my shopping trip. I fastened it on my shoulders for the time being.) The elf also had some coin, and a note that said “Flee fool, lest the cuckoo slay you”. 

[OOC: 10 +1 arrows, 23p 10g, cloak of elvenkind. The note has something to do with the Standing Stone module, which we made fun of for a bit before resuming.]

Valanthe went up the tower to attempt to find our attacker. On the tower sides are carved chutes, that may lead inside. However the window structures we saw from the ground were just shadowy carvings. At the top, the spire was open and the rim lined with jagged shards of stone. Inside Valanthe could make out a bizzare mound of flesh with writhing tentacles – it was casting spells and preparing, presumably for us.

[OOC Note: As we sat down to begin the night’s game, the module was sitting on the table. I asked to see it, and looked at the cover, stating that I wanted to see what we’d be fighting. You see in the Sunless Citadel and in the Forge of Fury, the covers both depicted a significant combat in the module. As a group of players, we’re no dummies, and we figured that HoNfS would follow this pattern. And on the cover are the heros flying around, and a large tentacled beast fighting them. So we were right – there it was. Nobody expected to have to fight it so SOON tho.]

Valanthe observed it and could tell its senses were very keen – Rackhir borrowed the new cloak and stuck his head outside to have it nearly blasted by lightning, and the small builiding shook around us. How Valanthe remained undetected was something of a miracle. [OOC and an amazingly high hide and move silently] We knew it could not take another blast like that, and we scattered. Upon seeing us move, the beast rose up from the tower to destroy us.

[OOC: It’s a mooncalf. Let’s just accept that we know the name and move on. Round 1]

I had no target and was forced to wait until the mooncalf crested the tower and came towards the ground at us. I fired but forgot the pull of my new bow and missed wildly. Rackhir fired but his arrow just bounced off – magic would be required for this beast. Jozan hardened himself against the elements while Scorch turned himself into an umber hulk and began tunneling below the ground. Valanthe waited for an opportunity as the mooncalf descended. 

[OOC: Round 2]

Seeing this great monster nearly falling at us, with it’s mass of tentacles and long reach, I tended to my own defense and put up a shield. Rackhir fired and this time, using magical arrows, landed some of his shafts. The rest of the group could do little but wait as the beast plummeted 300 feet towards us. During its descent, Valanthe jumped on it and struck, and then jumped back. It flicked a tentacle as she did and nicked her.

[OOC: Round 3]

I moved back and shot a single arrow. It landed well enough but the magical protections the beast had cast snuffed the flaming arrow. Rackhir fired and hit with two arrows. Scorch was still tunneling below the ground. Dravot invoked a harrier and a wispy bird of light came into being and flew at the mooncalf. The calf dropped another ten feet and launched its tentacles at Rackhir which lashed at him and picked him up and continued to squeeze. Jozan swung at the beast but could not strike a solid blow.

In our minds we could hear a rasping sound saying “You shall not enter the tower….the spire is held by Gulthias and he has told me to keep you ouuuuut….you shall sleep with the vines…” 

Valanthe, undisturbed, jumped back on the top of the beast and drove her venomous dagger into its back.

[OOC: Round 4]

Far enough away to avoid attack but still close enough for controlled shooting, I open fire, landing two more arrows. Rackhir burst free of the tentacles and fell to the ground, and as he did, Jozan attacked one of the appendages. Dravot invoked a Recitation. Scorch burst out of the ground and launched a volley of magic missiles at the mooncalf. Meanwhile on its back, Valanthe chose carefully and landed a well placed blade, and a flood of ichor was released as she cut it above the eye. The mooncalf was screeching “No…it cannot happen…no…” It flung its tentacles at the umber hulk Scorch and grabbed him with such force as to nearly break him in half. Scorch screamed and fell unconscious in an instant. [OOC: Scorch was mostly healed from the lightning bolt but the damage was so massive from the mooncalf he was at –8 hp. We thought he was actually dead, but we checked Polymorph self and there is a small healing component which was enough to keep him above –10. We were already worried seeing how badly it hurt Rackhir, and we were not quite concerned. We tend to keep a running damage number and this beast had already taken a huge amount of damage and was not slowing down. We were not sure we could kill it in time to save Scorch.]

[OOC: Round 5]

Finally feeling the new bow, I land three solid shots on the beast. Rackhir also hit several shots. Jozan waited beneath the beast for Scorch’s near-lifeless body to fall if the beast discards him. Dravot moved closer and healed Scorch enough to bring him conscious. The mooncalf discarded Scorch and he fell into Jozan’s waiting arms. The tentacles on the beast flailed around looking for Valanthe and wrap around her. However Valanthe immediately wriggled free and leapt to the ground.

[OOC: Round 6 and we are worried. We haven’t been this worried since Nightscale was kicking our butts.]

Rackhir and I both let arrows fly again and again landed solidly. Rackhir’s shots struck some vital organs by the amount of foul blood that gushed out [OOC: 2 crits out of 3 shots]. The beast lurched in the air and crashed into the ground, landing on Dravot and Jozan. Fortunately the battered Scorch managed to dive free. As it’s form bled and deflated, it hissed at us once more “Though I have failed to ward the door, Gulthias knows you have come and he makes his revenge ready. Let the world weep at his return…”

The top of the spire is hollowed out and filled with the stench of rotting meat. There is a half eaten corpse of a black dragon laying atop a pile of coins. In the center is a rough hole into the inner spire. On examining the pile of coins we saw some movement within the pile. A long white hand emerged and tossed a scroll to the side of the pile and went back into the pile. Dravot sensed three wights within the pile upon being lifted up by a draconic Scorch. He invoked Pelor’s wrath, combined with his own special hatred, and destroyed them utterly. 

In the pile we found three gems (50gp ea), a potion of invisibility, a potion of neutralize poison, and a ring of blue stone with some type of transmutation magic which is in Rackhir’s hands. Also we found a plaque that had writing in draconic: “The Vow: With my brothers and sisters I abide the centuries until Gulthias awakens the relic at the core and we rise together into unlife.” The coins came to 450gp and 4234 sp.


*From Dravot’s Journal:*

Much has happened since our journey from Brindinford. We had a brief stop in Greyhawk before continuing on to the lands near Tenh. With Gelban's help, I commissioned an agent to locate new housing suitable to someone of my recently elevated station. In anticipation of this, I spent much time packing my belongings from my apartment in the Temple; afterward I cleaned my gear for our trip with Arang'el, and spent a lot of time in prayer and meditation. 

My newfound status still takes some getting used to. Being the 3rd of 4 sons, I grew up with the notion that I wouldn't ever be liege lord of Brindinford. This was fine, as my interests in following Pelor would have conflicted somewhat with this anyway. Now my father is dead (or should be, instead of being in his currently horrid state), my eldest living brother will abdicate, and my other brother is in the same state as my father. I will inherit the estate, the title and all responsibility therein. In preparation, I have started brushing up on law, so that I can discharge my new found duties in an appropriate fashion. 

Thora informs me that her search on my behalf goes well. Xavener has expressed an interest that we look to Xel Astra or the Northern Kingdoms. I have informed her that this would be fine, but that I would not stand for a marriage to any child of Drax. 

The recent trip has given me more time to think about other matters. The spot where I have been marked is still upon my arm. I have absent mindedly rubbed at it for quite some time now, as if I could remove it like it were dirt or a stain. It is now red, raw and inflamed, which only draws my attention to it that much more. On our trip to Brindinford, the idea popped into my head that I could remove the mark (which I have researched as a variant of a Mark of Apostasy) by removing my arm. 

I threw away that notion as extreme and desperate, but I keep coming back to it. I've tried everything I've thought of to remove it, spells, positive energy, prayer. All to no avail. It would seem that more physical action is needed. While we were in town, I decided that it needed to be done, and began to make arrangements: when we returned to Greyhawk, I would remove my arm, and thus remove this horrible stain upon my soul. 

I'm not sure when exactly I changed my mind. Looking back, I think it was what I saw of the aftermath of the battle that killed Arang'el's men. I found an arm, still clutching a bow, severed from the body of the man that previously bore it. I looked around, but couldn't find the person to whom it belonged. This disturbed me greatly. The next morning, as I prayed for guidance and spells, I reflected on how Pelor was a god of healing, and that removing my own arm seemedwrong somehow. 

Yet, I was at a loss. I feel a need for action. This has been with me for far too long. It grows in strength, slowly. It is most likely a link to Chavram, and those others similarly afflicted have become his puppets. I will NOT stand for this. Instead, I have come up with a new plan. 

Upon returning, I made some discrete inquiries. Those within the Temple were quite unhappy with my decision, and some tried to talk me out of it. I located a blacksmith who follows Pelor, and who was willing to help me. He made a brand for me, with the holy symbol of Pelor. We blessed and anointed his shop, his forge, his anvil, as well as his hammers and other tools. I provided him with holy water daily for quenching the brand while he worked. I blessed the iron that he used for it. 

Meanwhile, I secured myself in the Temple. Jasmine is in the process of setting up the new household and I used the opportunity to stay out of the way, and do this. For three days, I prayed and meditated. The only food I would eat was that provided for by Pelor and my spells. The rest of my time I used to heal and counsel those in need. 

On the morning of the 3rd day, I would use the brand to cover over the Mark. The night before this was to happen, I received a message from Bellamy. He had head of my plans, and begged me not to do it. Against my better judgment, I have acquiesced for the time being. I made it clear that I had not given up the idea entirely, but will delay it while more research is done. 

I have followed his advice and have spent the rest of my time in Greyhawk promoting the good works of Pelor. Every night since then, I have gone into the poorer areas of town, using my abilities to heal injury and disease. I have also moved through the graveyards, searching for undead, but have found none. I thought I saw Valanthe one night, and Rackhir on another, but didn't seek them out. I doubt that they saw me. Bellamy was right in one respectthis was a good idea. I feel better about myself and my predicament, and I'm genuinely glad that I was able to help others. In a way it is action, and I felt the need to do something, and I have. What I don't know is if it is enough. 

I am bringing the brand with me on the upcoming trip. It is a reminder to me for why I joined the church, and I am sure that I will continue to contemplate my future actions. I have debated the idea of Communing with Pelor for advice. I will probably do that when we return. 

Meanwhile, Jasmine has done a wonderful job on the house, setting up a staff, and organizing things. She will be the household Majordomo until I return, and can find someone suitable to take over it. I have made arrangements to have the house Hallowed, and protected with Negative Energy Protection, but as usual, the mage's guild is taking their own sweet time in approving the permit for the spell. I will take action to resolve this upon my return. 

Also, the Church has seen fit to allow me to take possession of a Greater Holy Symbol, for a suitable donation. I am looking forward to my next encounter with the Undead with much glee...


----------



## Zad

*Valanthe's Deal*

Well, here's Val. I am wrestling with the question of if Valanthe should let the group know about my "deal" with Ralishaz. What do you guys think?...

*Val’s Journal – NightFang Spire, part 1*

Well, if there’s one thing I can say about Gelban, it’s that he knows the value of gold piece. I was flush with cash, even after my normal donation to the orphanage, and that’s saying something. Mother Gota was having a hard time believing that I’d come by all this money legally. Past experience, I guess. But she can’t make noise after she saw Gelban’s letter of mark. I’ve never been that good at writing, so forgeries are beyond reason. 

Ardestor is in Greyhawk! Now that’s a nice change. The advantages of a disorganized clergy, I guess. He was very smug…I think he’s trying to take credit for rehabilitating me, or something. Why are priests always so crazy? Still, it’s good to have someone around that I can talk to besides Gota and the other members of our adventuring band. Jozan’s the only one who might understand what it is to be an orphan…but he’s an elf, and he was raised to follow Pelor, even if he worships Sehanine, now. His hearts in the right place, but well, he has these ‘laws’ that he expects everyone to follow.

So, next thing I know, it’s time to go shopping. I’ve had my eye on a sword that Mad Orphen’s been itching to sell for some time. But it’s not the kind of sword that you can buy in some prissy High Market shop, or out in the stalls in the low market. For pity’s sake, you can’t buy swords in the same place you buy apples! But I was at the low market all the same, to speak to Bennaldid the Bigmouth. How a halfling that small can talk that much is beyond me….but he knew where the Midnight Market was going to be tonight, and it was worth buying one of his awful pies and listening to his even more awful stories to get that fact.

It turned out that tonight it was going to be on the shore of the Rheenee shantytown on the northside of the city, away from the docks. I was glad Verilunda would be along if I needed her, the shantytown’s not safe after dark, even for me.

Turns out I didn’t need to worry…there were Dharkaguards everywhere. They weren’t allowing any funny business. A few shadowy blokes tried to get in after me, until one of the Rheenee vethas cast her evil eye their way. Next thing you know, harpoons are flying and it turns out they were Kua-toa! Imagine, those toad-men trying to sneak in. Hmmph. I wonder if they’re going to skin them and eat them?

Anyways, I found Mad Orphen, all right. Same old Orphen, telling tales of how the blade was forged at White Plume Mountain itself, and the hilt was made from a Manticore scale…blah blah blah. I was quick to point out that for a sword from White Plume Mountain, it sure had a funny set of marks on it…you know, like Elven runes? Whatever. We haggled, as usual, and I got it. It’s got some magic on it that I liked - it actually seeks out the vitals if I will it to. And I’m planning on willing it, if ya know what I mean.


Well, after that shopping trip, funds were a little dry. Where to re-supply those funds was another matter. Think, think, think. Hmmm, maybe I could kill two birds with one stone?

I got a crazy idea - partner with Hammer and maybe get to spend some time with him. He definitely piques my curiosity (among other things), and he definitly knows how to have fun.

I’ll have to go see if Gelban can get me to get a message to the copper. So I go to see the big man, himself.

"Good day Lord Gelban. I was wondering if you might know a way that I might be able to contact my friend, The Hammer? I have some things of a personal nature that I need to discuss with him."

Well, that got an odd look, I can tell you. I’m betting he didn’t think I even KNEW the Hammer, let alone that I’d be talking with him. Who knows what’s going through his head? I got a big kick out of that.

"Well...I'm sure that arrangements can be made. The portal cannot be opened again today, but a message can be sent, if you choose to write one. Or you can wait until tomorrow, when I will be sending reinforcements to the Map, and you can speak to him yourself."

Well, that’s Gelban for you. All propriety and all that. I’ll bet it’s driving him crazy. Anywho, I decided to wait until the next day. I’m in no rush, after all. Sure enough, Gelban sent a number of troops (he has troops? Where’d these guys come from, anyways?) through the gate the next day…and I tagged along for good measure.

Sure enough, I found him (in his husky human form) giving instructions on some fortifications. The druids didn’t seem to be thrilled with a blacksmith about, but who’s gonna tell the Hammer that? Not me, I’ll tell you. Still, I decided he could use some cheering up, and I don’t get to have nearly enough fun with the stiff bunch I travel with.

"Hello Handsome! Do you have some free time to have a chat?"

Which, of course, he did. I mean, he’s still male, after all, dragon or no dragon.

"I would like to partner again to, how do you say it?... "liberate" some items from their not so deserving owners - people like Ibrahim. I figure it would benefit others more, like you, myself and places like the Orphanage, etc. And it would probably be good to get some of the nasty toys outta the wrong hands..."

"Besides, you'd get to see more of me (I flashed him a big smile)"

Now, if there’s one thing I’ve figured out about the Hammer, it’s that he loves to sneak things past folks like Gelban. It’s one of his most endearing qualities, ya ask me. He jumped at the chance…well, sort of.

"Heh! An ye' think I'm the brash one, eh? Well it's true enough that I were lookin to see ya, lass. Sure'n it's nae only my sister that 's looking fer a dance with a pretty one. " He smiles broadly and scratches his beard.

"Now as ta a...favor o' sorts ya can be doing fer me? Well, thar's a feller in Greyhawk what could use havin his load a lightened a little....but he'll nae be away for a few weeks, tis true enough. And ye wouldna wanna try and rob him while he's there, I 'sures ya that. And anyways, I'd not like to see you singed. Ye're a pretty lass, for one what's got nae scales, ta be sure."

"His name is Infernus, and he's worse 'n Ibrahim. You'll need ta be
careful, 's sure enough. I can give ya more details whens the times right, sure enough."

Well, that was a little less than I was hoping for, but still better than nothing at all. I know that he’s good as his word. Still, I’m wondering what else he’s good at, if you follow me. So I say to him, 

"That sounds like a fun outting. I'll be waiting to hear from you. Hmmm, how will I be hearing from you anyway? Is there anyway we can keep in touch quickly?

Anyway, I'd better be getting back. You take care out here.” I gave him a peck on the cheek and headed out.

And off I go, after he mentions that he’s got a way to contact Gelban, and get the messages to me. Seems that Infernus is something of a tougher nut to crack, and there’s a lot more to set up. Well, I love a challenge. 


It was mid-morning and we were ready to go. Most of us had spent the last few days preparing, shopping , and other things. For the first time ever, I am almost sure that after a bit more practice I’ll be able to use some scrolls. It will definitely be a big help to my other hobbies. Ah, the sword of subtlety, a thing of beauty.

Anyway, Gelban opened the portal and in we went. The grove was looking much better. Those druids don’t waste anytime in reclamation. The Coppers were long gone since my visit here yesterday. I wondered what The Hammer was up to? 

We checked our map again, and headed off. Did I mention that by now you think I’d be used to the fact that whenever we travel, it never goes smoothly. And they wonder why I always prefer to work alone.

Sure enough, only a few days from the map, we run afoul of an army of gnolls. Flying under Chavram’s banner?!? Am I the only person around here without a legion of troops. Ooops. Forgot Verilunda. Scratch that, forget I mentioned it. It wouldn’t have been a problem, mind you, ducking into the Phostwood as we did…except that Kayleigh, the wood-elf, somehow forgot how to blend. Yeesh. Luckily, the gnolls weren’t too interested.

I oughta point out that I run in the company of not one, but two elves. And neither one apparently knows their way around a forest. I mean, how do you miss all of these things. Turns out we walked right into wild elf territory, and they were NOT pleased. Mind you, they never saw me moving about, and I managed to convince them to calm down. 

Well, OK, actually they just sort of threatened us and then disappeared. But that’s kind of the same thing, isn’t it? Anyways, after that, we made good time (and passed some abandoned city) and made it to the spire. Eeuuch. Who the hell designed this thing, anyway, Iuz’s tailor?

Whoa, what the?… something huge and ugly was laying in wait. I had a feeling that it’s the source of that lightning bolt that did a number on Scorch. Damn if that thing wasn’t laying in wait. I quickly sent out the warning to the group below of this thing. Very still I clung to the spire. Soon, the Mooncalf started flicking it tentacles about, and it was then I realized it was sensing them down below and would most likely find me. 

I sent the message to Rackhir to pop his head out again and it would most likely come down and say hi. While the group readied, I tried to think of what my plan was… Patience is a virtue they say, so I decided to wait for the thing to move past.

As soon as the group went into action, the creature descended towards them. 

Some combat notes….

After seeing the resistance to Kayleighs attacks, I knew I was not going to be able to effect it with my light xbow. Time to live a little, I thought. The gambling fool took over me and I did the only thing I could think of… I jumped right on it’s back and plunged my venomous dagger, hoping to poison it and slow it down. Unfortunately this thing was pretty resistant to the poison. Time to jump back off to the tower and, oof, I didn’t move fast enough to avoind one of it’s tentacles.

Kayleigh opened fire, landing two more arrows. Rackhir burst free of the tentacles and fell to the ground, and as he did, Jozan attacked one of the appendages. Dravot invoked a Recitation. Scorch the Umberhulk burst out of the ground and launched a volley of magic missiles at the mooncalf and then became Lobster dinner to the beast. Just when I thought things were looking bad, they got worse. I heard a cracking sound as the mooncalf put the squeeze on Scorch. “****!” I thought, “he’s dying!”

Yea, I know Scorch isn’t the most personable guy around, but I consider him a friend and I’ll be damned if I am going to stand there and watch him die. Besides, who would I have to give all those wizardly things I “borrow” - and they wouldn’t go running to Dravot or Jozan about it.

Don’t ask me why, but I suddenly rembered the Unsought One, Ralishaz, God of Gamblers. What the hell, I thought, I might as well play with the best there is and roll the dice of fate.

All right, Ralishaz, I bet you can’t resist this. Give me a hand here and I’ll be owing you later.

I swore I heard a voice in the back of my head exclaim “You crazy, bitch!”

“Nooooo, you’ll not have him!” I thought and as I rolled the bones I grabbed my dagger and jump on for another ride and thrust it in as much as I could. Screeching “No…it cannot happen…no…” the Mooncalf yelled out. It dropped Scorch’s limp body right into the waiting arms of Jozan. (luckily I found out that Scorch would pull through). We then made short work of the ugly bastard. Oh, he was right mad, I can tell you. Flung me around like a rag doll for a few seconds, there…but I’m too slippery for some ugly flying squid-head to hold on to, and I was free faster than you could count to six.

I guess I’ll be owing ol’ Ral a favor. But, hey, live a little, right? That’s my motto.


----------



## Zad

*Jozan's Journal*

*Jozan's Journal*

We made it back to Greyhawk. I know this would probably be a sacrilege to other elves, but sometimes I miss Cities. Maybe it's my vocation, but it's tough to help others when there aren't others around, like in some of these forests.

Kayleigh seems to have the right idea in finding a bath, but first things first. I settle into the quarters set for myself and Meepo, and tend to crescent and Meepo's Pony. A careful inspection of Crescent shows a few nicks and scrapes, along with the odd battle scar. Nothing even close to fatal, but even so, I feel them as much as he does.

I make sure he is comfortable and well fed, and leave some instructions with the stablehand. I've been through here a few times, and the stablehands, while still a little..awed, I suppose, they're not as afraid of having a large Dire Wolf taking up so much of their space as they once were.

As much in awe as they once were to Crescent, they have a sense of mild amusement at the Kobold who comes down to care for him once in a while. At one time, they tried to take advantage of Meepo, but a few words from me ended that. One even came to his aid when some of the local toughs tried to intimidate him. I only heard whispers and rumors, but with the aid of the stable hand, and a few deft movements with his dagger, the toughs were chased away with nothing more than minor wounds. My style of fighting is considerably less subtle, however; I have to believe one of my companions is...helping Meepo with his skills.

As I leave the stable, my thoughts drift back to the wounds on crescent. I don't know if he'll wear barding, or how much it might hamper his movement. I need to find some way to protect him. Meepo stays with Crescent, while I proceed to find a bath. In the bath I notice my own wounds. Each one has a story with it, from the Rat bites from the Sunless Citadel to the acid burns from Nightscale. Dravot's healing magic prevents a lot of the scarring, but never all of it. Not even my own healing abilities can do that, and I guess it's okay. Each scar is another lesson learned, a foe vanquished. After the battle with the Vampire / Gulthian Spawns, My simple mail shirt isn't going to be enough. Even with the addition of the ring of defense, the monsters and enemies are only going to get worse. An improvement to my own armor must be found.

I finish my bath, find a decent outfit to wear for the briefing, and go tell Gelban of our adventures. Kayleigh does a wonderful job of recounting our exploits, so the meeting is very easy for me. A few slips regarding Valanthe's...side trips, catch my attention, but I know that a lot of her earnings go to a good cause, so I just pass them off. Although I am still not 100% satisfied with her explanation of that "Shadow" that follows her around, but it seems there is little Dravot or I can do about it right now. I have devoted some meditations to it, but gaining no insight. My guess is that it will be helpful to My Lady's cause, or simply beneath Her notice. If it is simply as Valanthe states, a companion, I suppose it's okay. But I'm afraid it may start influencing her actions, and its motives may not match our parties, or even Valanthe's for that matter. I can't deny that he/she/it has come in handy, however.

Gelban has seen fit to give us a very generous reward! This is good, because there are a number of projects the Elven Parthenon could use these funds for. I take a small (relatively) number of coins, wait for Meepo to return, then buy us a real meal at a local tavern. Some people look a bit odd at my Squire, but this isn't the kind of place where anyone would say anything that might disturb their evening out. But the meal is excellent, and that is why Meepo and I are there that night. Our bellies full, we retire to our rooms.

I spend some time in meditation and prayer, and then I trance for a few hours. I can't remember my dreams, but I wake with my mind made up, and grab the reward and proceed to the market.

Boy, it's hard to find anyone brave enough to make simple chain barding for a Dire wolf. My sense from Crescent leads me to believe I won't be using it a lot anyway, due to the time it would take to fit him into it before combat. But if we know about a battle ahead of time, it would be a good measure of protection for him. Dravot's family armor has an amazing enchantment on it that it pretty much appears around him. I wonder if that enchantment can be fitted into barding.

I suppose I've been going about this all wrong, and return to the parade grounds where Gelban's forces train, and ask around for who does the barding for their horses. One name pops up more than once, and a quick word with Gelban's steward gains me a Letter vouching for me and the Dire Wolf. I locate the armorer, and while a little nervous, he seems delighted by the challenge, and he proceeds to measure Crescent, tying Knots in a cord in some unfathomable code that only this man understands. He assures me he can make it, and judging by the armor that is in his shop, he is a wondrous craftsman. On impulse, I ask him if he can make it of a quality that it might be enchanted at a later time. He understands, and while the price suddenly jumped, it wasn't outrageous. It would, however, take time. I leave a down payment, and proceed to try and procure an item I've been wanting for Meepo.

Shopping the market does not turn it up, and I abandon my search to go to the part of town where the Elven Temples are located. There are few Priests of Sehanine Moonbow, but luckily there is one in Greyhawk, and to him I present a large portion of Gelban's reward. The priests here run an almshouse, and also try and maintain a section of farmland that some of the less fortunate can run to get started again. One of the statues in the grove has been vandalized, and while the new one is ready they could use help in raising it. I promise to help the next day, and return to my quarters to relax.

The rest of the day is uneventful, as is the night. My trance is deeper, possibly because I have Crescent taken care of. My wounds I can accept, but even though he is exceptionally smart for a wolf, it would be unfair of me to presume he accepts them as I do. Each wound he receives is taken in my service, and I feel better for trying to prevent as many of them as possible.

Sehanine Be Praised! One of the Elven Priests gave me a great gift today! But I get ahead of myself. The Day started with a quick glance at a few of the more...discreet shops, looking for that item for Meepo. Having no luck, I then hurried off to assist in the raising of the statue. It's part of a ring that keeps track of the phases of the moon, so its placement needs to be exact. And it's heavy. It takes quite a bit of effort to position it, then raise it, then adjust it's position this way, then that way, but finally myself and the crew have it in place. Due to the labor, I, like the rest of the crew, were working without our shirts. One of Sehanine's priests saw the same scars I saw in the bath, And said he had something for me. I should seek him out after the simple lunch that they brought for us. This I did, and when I found him, he said "There are precious few Paladins among the elves, and fewer still who are Sehanine's Champions, so Holy Armor is almost unheard of amon
g the elves. But starting new chapters, in remote areas is dangerous work, so there is a small cache of..well, I hesitate to call them mundane, because some of them are enchanted...I guess you could say that the have mundane enchantments on them. Judging by your scars, you could probably use this."

With that, he produces a very fine, beautifully worked set of chainmail. The metal shines with a very pale radiance, and the cloth padding and tabard are a very light blue. The combination looks very much like moonglow, and indeed Her Symbol is on the Tabard itself. I have a very hard time thanking the old priest, I am in such shock at his gift. He smiles, and bids me to continue to bring glory to Her name. We say our goodbyes, and I spend the rest of the day simply relaxing.

And the next day is spent relaxing. And the next. I understand the need for it, Scorch needs time to "inscribe his spells" or whatever it was that he called it. Those spells of his have come in handy on several occasions, so If he says it's needed, I'm content to give him his time. Soon, however, Gelban himself is getting restless about our troop, so I think a...discreet withdraw may be in order. I gather Meepo and crescent, and we head out through the south wall towards a small forest I know of. It's close enough to the city that I doubt any trouble will find me, but far enough away that we won't be disturbed either. I have the small brooch Gelban gave us to stay in contact, so everything should be fine.

On our way, though, I do notice a large amount of traffic in and out of the city, the majority of them refugees from Geoff. The scuttlebutt from the soldiers is that the Duke of Geoff is making plans for an attack on the Giants there and Gelban is lending support. This puts a small damper on my mood, as it catches me between two duties: helping the refugees, and defeating Gulthias at the Spire. I finally decide that Gelban is doing all he can for Geoff, and that Nightfang Spire takes precedence for me and my troop, but it is still an uneasy peace for me.

Getting into the forest cheers me some, and the small hidden pond in the middle of it is an ideal place to spend a day or two. It's fresh water, fed by an underground spring, making it a very refreshing place to swim. (And, incidentally, getting Crescent a bath.) There still is much to be done, and many dangers ahead, but there is a peace here. And that's what I needed most of all.

During my trance for this night, I receive a vision. I'm in a small clearing in a forest lit only by moonlight. In the middle is Sehanine Moonbow talking with a...an avatar, I guess. From the markings it can only be one of Pelor's Servants. I have the feeling that this is something that happened in the past, a feeling confirmed when I hear Her voice.

"...They Destroyed the Entire Village! They Killed everyone!" She said, Fury Mixed with Despair in her voice.

>From the Avatar: "My master says 'All save the one'."

"Yes, one Elf babe, the only survivor of this attack!" a small measure of calm returning to Her.

"My Master says the monks have taken him in, and taught him much. They have named him "Jozan" after one of My Master's heroes."

"And for that, I thank you. But I would ask something of your master"

"My master is curious."

"For what they have done to my village, I will have my revenge. But for that, I will need a champion. These are almost unknown among elves, and never from one of my followers. But this elf, Jozan, has had a unique upbringing, and the teachings from your monastery combined with martial training in the future could make him a mighty paladin indeed. And what I ask is this: that I might have him back, To be my champion. It was, after all, his village that was destroyed."

>From the Avatar: "My Master understands your needs. My Master will let you have Jozan for your Champion. However, My Master does say that you owe him a debt. A time will come in My Master's war with evil where your champion will be needed."

Resolution from Sehanine: "I understand. Providing you do not deprive me of him at a critical time, I accept the debt. When you ask, he will be your Sword and Shield. Until then, he shall be mine."

"My Master Agrees. In this way shall he serve both Sun and Moon, the Sword of Twilight." and the vision slowly fades.

I slowly recover from my trance, absorbing this new vision. Her debts are my debts, and having worked with Dravot and lived among Pelor's faithful, I have no problem repaying this debt. I enjoy the calmness around me for some time more. When my companions awake, we enjoy a lazy morning, swim some more, then begin to break camp. I send one final prayer, thanking Sehanine for the respite, and take my small band back to Greyhawk.

Much to my delight, Kayleigh has bought just the object I sought for Meepo! From her directions, It was easy to locate and purchase one for the kobold. Since he's been carrying around a good share of items for us, with little complaint, I found him an amazing backpack. A haversack, really, but it holds a lot more inside than it looks like it can, all without gaining any more weight! A truly wonderful aspect is that a moment’s concentration before opening the pack, and what you are looking for is right there on top! No digging for a missing tent peg that fell to the bottom, or trying to get a healing potion in an emergency. I hope he likes it, and he does seem genuinely happy to have something to lighten his burden. I make a quick check with the armorer to see the progress on Crescent's protection the joints that have been made fit so precisely, any doubt I had about hampering crescent are gone. It will be an amazing piece of craftsmanship when it is complete, no doubt.

But it will have to wait. Scorch has finished his work, and our party now turns towards Nightfang Spire, and we steel ourselves to the task of destroying it's undead inhabitant.


----------



## Zad

*The Heart of Nightfang Spire - Chapter 2*

*Chapter 2 – For whom the bell tolls*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience is as follows:

Rackhir 3066
Jozan 3666
Kayleigh 3666
Dravot 3666
Scorch 3966
Valanthe 3666

Loot was:

150gp

Wand of mage armor, 23 charges, 3rd level
Ring of Protection +2 (currently with Valanthe – probably should rethink that since she has evasion. Who has bad saves?)

4 flasks of alchemists fire. (If you believe that. Hmf.)


*Notes for Next Time:*

We need to rest, repair the Silent Brother (Sister?) and talk to her. Then go back inside. But I’m not sure if we can given recent events.

Of deeper concern is Dravot’s recent actions. We have a problem (in character) and I’m not sure we can go back into the spire in our current state. I don’t know if we want to discuss this on the list or in person at the next game.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

Having dealt with the mooncalf, and looked over the lair, we made preparations to enter the spire. However one thing troubled me and that was the chutes Valanthe had discovered on the outside of the spire. She returned to examine them more thoroughly. Unfortunately the two she found both seemed to dead-end after some distance and she could see nothing further. I had an uncomfortable feeling, and Rackhir mentioned “floor traps” and then it clicked. Thinking he was right, I suggested Valanthe tie ropes across the end of the chutes. That way if one of us fell through, we could grab the rope and be saved from a certain death in the fall.

Satisfied with that, Valanthe dropped down the hole into the spire from the top. She saw some rooms covered in rubble and broken stone, and acid burns in various areas where the dragon had apparently breached the spire. Since it seemed calm enough we all began to enter quietly.

All that is except for Dravot, who slipped while lowering himself and fell to the floor in a noisy crash. We all simply sighed and kept going. I couldn’t fault him too much – we all have bad days and just a few days before I was careless enough to be seen by gnolls.

The interior was very dark. Scorch, ever prepared, set off a Daylight spell on his staff and things became more visible. Cobblestones paved the circular area that opened underneath the hole in the ceiling. There were shattered stone statues everywhere and the north wall of the chamber had been obliterated. The silence hung heavy over all. [OOC Note: It was in the flavor text, gimme a break.] The next chamber had a fair bit of rubble also and the floor was covered in loose chunks of stone, broken sculpture, and other debris. The tracks of what we assume was the dragon wound through the destruction. Apparently it didn’t like statues, most of which were of elves in formal dress. (A discontinuity I found quite odd.) Other chunks appeared to be from statues of dragons. I’m reminded of the dragon worshippers in the Sunless Citadel, and since Gulthias had a home there too, perhaps it’s more than coincidence. 

No sound was made, but the feel of the place changed from tension to immediate danger. We moved carefully into the next room and suddenly several vampire spawn emerged from another area, scuttling across the ceiling. Dravot saw a mist curl under the door of the circular chamber and form into another vampire.

I opened up on the vampire nearest me and wound it. Rackhir followed my lead, and Jozan took Shatterspike to a nearby vampire. The one I shot moved closer and swung at me from the ceiling but was easily avoided. Scorch moved to a good line of fire, and let magic missles fly, killing the vampire attacking me. Dravot invoked Pelor again, and several of the vampires turned to mist and fled.

The vampire spawn begin retreating, as some were killed and some were turned. I fire at a retreating one and nearly kill it. Fortunately Rackhir finishes what I started and the beast fell into mist. As we pursue them we can see in another room six stone sarcophagi with their lids open. I had expected their lair to be deep within the spire, and we would only have fought them off temporarily, but apparently fate had a different plan. One of the retreating beasts begged Gulthias for aid, and in reply two canines formed out of shadow and ether. As quickly as they formed, they melted into the darkness in the chamber.

One vampire still threatened Jozan and Dravot and I had to remove it, and did so with prejudice. Rackhir moved into the next room and saw the situation. It seemed that while they were inside repositioning, they were not going to come out to face us. Instead we were forced to enter their lair and assault them, something that would not go well were we careless. Dravot read off a scroll behind me and healed himself of something though I was not privy to what injury he suffered.

Thanks to the telepathic link we formed a quick plan. We assault their lair from two sides – I threw a quick light spell on Dravot’s shield to add more illumination and hopefully hamper the shadow beasts. Jozan moved to the door and waited for the explosion that would be coming shortly. Scorch moved in from the other end and dropped a fireball squarely into the room. I regret he had to move in so close to do so as I worried for his safety. As he moved, the daylight he carried on his staff forced the shadowy dogs more onto this plane, and they suddenly solidified and were therefore easier to both see and hit. The fireball blew out the door near me and had good effect on the remaining vampires and the dogs. 

The dogs leapt to the attack. One rushed Scorch and bit at him but Scorch’s earlier shield spell deflected it. The other engaged Jozan but tripped over the fallen door and ruined its charge. Dravot stepped up and brought his hammer down on the beast’s head.

I was expecting this beast to be quite tough, and I planted three shots squarely into it. I was a bit shocked when it fell over very dead, the arrows sticking from the other side of its body. Apparently the daylight had more effect than I had expected. Rackhir moved into defend Scorch and performed a similar operation on the remaining mastiff, and it too dispersed into the ether.

The vampires were either cowed or in a gaseous state from damage, and this was clearly their lair. We easily dispatched the remaining ones into their coffins, and then after a brief discussion set about destroying them permanently. Dravot set himself to this task with a zealous fury, and would brook no assistance save Jozan. Since this took some hours, we proceeded to examine the area more closely. Valanthe found a copper ring on one of the beasts in her searching. Meanwhile I was homing in on a source of magic, and found a wand. We believed it was a wand of mage armor as many of the beasts had the distinct flash of the protections of that spell.

Valanthe put the ring on, and felt protected. Jozan nodded at this and removed a ring from his own hand and bid her put it on instead. Upon her doing so, he said “Do you feel more protected now or about the same?”

[OOC Note: Jozan earned himself an exp bonus for being a smart ass. His ring was +1, and the copper ring felt more protected so it was likely a +2. Wizardru opened the door and Jozan stepped through with a smirk.]

There was a room beyond, blocked by one of the coffins. When Dravot was satisfied we moved it aside and opened the door. But we were not ready for what was beyond.

The stench of slaughter assaulted our nostrils. Various humanoid bodies lied about in various states of decay, some strangely deflated. One body was moving ever so slightly. It was a woman, her face sallow and with drawn. She was suffering from her vital energies being drained away til she was near death but it seemed she was being preserved as a food source. The whole room seemed to be a pantry for these foul beasts. Around her neck on a chain was the emblem of the Silent Brotherhood – this must be the woman sent to watch Gulthias. She was truly at death’s door, and we set about moving her very carefully so as not to strain her further. While we worked on her, Valanthe found a secret door at the back of the room. By the time she was ready to open it we had removed the woman which was fortunate. Valanthe missed the cold trap and set it off in her examinations. Fortunately those in the room avoided any injury from the blast of cold. Beyond the door is a small space with a rusted metal chest, covered in the dust of ages. In the chest was a pile of gold coins, and four flasks with dragons carved on them.

Given our depleted state and the injured party in our charge, we withdraw from the spire. We had no desire to remain inside come nightfall in any case. As we move, she is feverish and barely coherent, muttering “must get far away…”. We withdraw a mile or two and set a camp. There is no wood in the crevasse, so we can make no fire. Scorch ponders for a moment, then summons a small fire elemental and bids it heat the rocks so we can provide some warmth to the Silent Brother. It is a small comfort among the damp stone but it does help. I’m becoming quite tired of being wet all the time but I can’t think of any way to alter the situation.

While I’m huddling under my cloak, there is suddenly a commotion in camp. I turn and see that Dravot has used a magic circle to imprison Verulinda. He speaks of merely wanting to question her and verify her intentions but I find that explanation entirely unsatisfactory. Valanthe is outraged and demands he release her immediately. 

I attempt to point out the similarities between Verulinda and Meepo. I had no love of that kobold and a deep hatred of his kind. But it is not Meepo’s fault he is a kobold and has tried to go beyond the norm of his kind. Verulinda is a victim, not a beast of the night, and deserves no such treatment. Dravot is unswayed. However during the argument Valanthe disappears and there is little doubt where the tip of her blade will reappear.

It was little surprise that neither Scorch nor Rackhir had much to say in either direction. I was surprised at Jozan, who seemed to listen intently but did not object.

As the situation was decaying, Jozan suddenly turned and hushed everyone, listening. I too then heard the sound of a bell, ringing, then stopping, then ringing, then stopping, as if someone with a belled staff approached. I concealed myself against the rocks and others did likewise. As I stared into the mist, I could see a man approaching, leading a horse and carrying a lantern. He also carries a halberd with a bell on the hook, causing the ringing. He is in a heavy cloak and dark clothing, with his face covered. While I was watching this man, Dravot must have released Verulinda and the circle, and she, disappeared.

Rackhir, thinking the lone man posed no threat, approached him. Scorch disappeared with a quick bit of spellcraft and went up with Rackhir. From his dress, the man apparently came from the western deserts. He seemed to be one of the Shadowed of Pelor and was seeking “one of his own”. Rackhir walked him back to camp but I elected to remain hidden a bit longer.

Upon seeing Valanthe, the man moved his halberd closer to her. It glowed briefly and then stopped. He seemed satisfied with this, and paid her no further mind. He went to Dravot, who greeted him. The man asked to see Dravot’s arm, and Dravot complied. He then said “So you’re the one acting the fool then?” 

To myself I thought “More than you know.”

The man went on to Dravot – “Among my people I am Zara bin Telbara. I received a message three days past and I was the nearest of our kind. They fear for you in Greyhawk. They do not wish you to fall too far into shadow.”

At this point, I left my concealment and paid the conversation little mind. It seemed a private matter, and despite Dravot’s recent actions I was not inclined to eavesdrop. Still it was a small camp and I did overhear bits of their conversation. Largely Zara was admonishing Dravot for his actions and his intentions. He felt Dravot was arrogant and not having faith in Pelor to provide a solution when the time is right.

Verilunda for some reason returned to Valanthe. Zara bin Telbara saw her, and his halberd flew from his horse to his open hand. Again the blade glowed briefly, and Zara relaxed and put his weapon back on his steed.

After finishing his conversation with Dravot, Zara was apparently satisfied he had done what he needed to do, and kept to himself but would comment if spoken to. We explained of the injured Brother and he was willing to see her to civilization once we had restored her health in the morning.

At some point Scorch examined the vials we had recovered. Each flask depicted a dragon hatching out of an egg and contained alchemists fire. I thought it odd that alchemist’s fire would be so elaborately marked and locked away but Scorch assured me that is what it was. Again I’m reminded of the Citadel, and the troll beast that was locked away.

For now, we rest. In the morning, we face a turning point. As a group, we have worked well together over the past year but we have not fully trusted each other completely. Each of us has had a slightly different relationship with each of the others. In spite of this we have been successful, both in our missions and personally. Much has changed for each of us since we set out for Oakhurst and for some the change has been more severe than for others.

But this night, Dravot breached whatever trust there was both with Valanthe and with most of the group in my opinion. I am unsure if his condition has driven him to the edges of fanaticism, or if other issues hound him. But if I had attempted to imprison Meepo for questioning, I’m sure that my companions would not have looked well on it, despite my deep hatred for the humanoid races. I have come to see Meepo as another part of our band, and as someone trying to be more than he was born to. And Verulinda is much the same. Even more so – she was a good woman in life, and made a victim by evil forces. She deserves no destruction for that if she is no menace to others. And she hardly deserves to be treated like a criminal. As one of Aran’gel’s troops, I’m sure part of my feelings stem from a protectiveness for her that Aran’gel would show himself were he here.

I can look at Dravot’s action with no kindness. He has breached the sometimes delicate trust within the group. I do not know how or if this can be restored. Come the morning, we may well need to withdraw and return to Greyhawk, our mission a failure, the evil unabated, and our group fractured and broken.

I fear for us all. In the past year it has always been us against the evil before us. Now we have fallen upon ourselves. Who will stop Gulthias now?


----------



## Zad

*From Dravot's Journal*

*Dravot's Journal - (Nightfang Spire parts 1&2)*

Today has been busy, exhausting and confusing.

We entered the lair of the foul beast Gulthias today. It is a spire, several hundred feet tall located within a barren canyon. As we approached, we noted the gathering of storm clouds. Scorch was hit by a bolt of lightning and damaged severely. I healed him as we moved on. We feared the return of the evil druids of Vecna, but we were not to be so lucky.

As we explored a building at the base of the spire (a hut, really), Valanthe climbed up to the top to investigate. She saw a huge, malevolent creature there, obviously an Outsider. She was lucky that it didn't see her, or she wouldn't be here now. It seemed to know of our presence, but unsure of where we were. When we realized that the only way in was through the top, we knew we would have to face it. We also realized that the building didn't protect us from further lightning strikes, so we moved back into the canyon and prepared for the ensuing fight.

Valanthe jumped upon the beast and struck it with her sword, and then jumped back off. It headed toward the archers. Kayleigh correctly guessed that she should move and backed out. Rackhir valiantly stood ground and fired several shots into it, and was injured in return. I feared for him,but was unsure what I could do to help him. I summoned forth a harrier, and I prayed a recitation to Pelor to aid us, and to hamper our foe.

Scorch thoughtfully distracted the beast, causing it to turn it's attentions upon him. Unfortunately, Scorch was severely wounded by the creature's strong grasp. I realized that if I did not help, Scorch would die. I ran forward and invoked the healing light of Pelor and brought Scorch back to consciousness. Valanthe jumped back onto the beast, doing more damage and distracted it. The beast lost interest in Scorch and dropped him into Jozan's waiting arms. Just at that point, the beast was killed. Scorch managed to evade it, but Jozan and I were not so lucky, and bore the full weight of the beast as it slammed into us from above. It was dead, and I thanked Pelor for carrying us through this safely.

We moved up to the top of the spire, and found the remains of a black dragon within it's lair. Apparently the Mooncalf, as Scorch called it, killed the dragon and took over it's lair. It uttered words to the effect that it was to protect the master from all intruders. Sorting through the treasure were 3 wightsI invoked the holy wrath of my god and turned them to dust.

We debated whether to continue on, or to go back and rest. The arguments for both were compelling. It was only 11am, yet we had expended some serious resources to accomplish these tasks already. In the end we decided to push our luck a bit and move forward.

In the center of the lair was a hole in the floor, leading to a dark room. Valanthe went down first, taking with her Verilunda. I was quite apprehensive about the shadow's appearance, and had been since she first showed up, following around Valanthe. No one else seemed to be worried about it, but me. More than once Valanthe made fun of my concerns, which did not sit well with me. Jozan seemed to be unhappy, but was willing to trust Valanthe. Seeing as he was raised by servants of Pelor, I was somewhat surprised at his lax attitude toward the undead within our presence. I meant to ask her questions about it, but felt awkward about it, and decided to wait. But more on that later.

One by one we moved into the room as quietly and carefully as possible. I was the last to enter and stumbled upon some of the wreckage within the room, causing a bit of noise, nearly twisting my ankle in the process. At the same time, Scorch cast a daylight spell, as it was quite dark down there.

At that moment, foul creatures of the night, vampire spawn erupted from the darkness. 4 of them approached from the northwest, where Valanthe and Verilunda were guarding, and 3 more emerged from their mist forms in the same room as myself. Chaos erupted as we started taking them down as fast as possible. I used the positive energy of the gods to turn several, while my companions used more crude techniques of sword and arrow.

I turned all but one near me, and it rushed me, slamming into me and injuring me slightly. Or slightly in the physical sense. At the same moment, I felt a sensation that I had not felt since Brindinford, in the family crypts. The foul beast had drained me of life essence. I turned it again, but Jozan chose that moment to strike it, breaking the fear that I had placed upon it. At that point there was not time left for subtlety, and I used my SunHammer to help tear down the beast. When it was dead, it turned into mistform and fled back to it's lair like the coward it is.

Much to my later embarrassment, I chose that moment to use the only restoration scroll I had with me. It was a moment of weakness, but the thought of being drained was unbearable. It's taint filled my nostrils and clung to my skin. The only way to rid myself of it now was the scroll. I could have shrugged it off easily the next day, but I could not wait. This would have repercussions shortly, however, and I continue to regret my actions.

Valanthe followed the fleeing monsters through the far entrance, noting those who fled from my turnings and those who had been injured in the fight. Scorch followed, and the room erupted in an inferno as he unleashed a fireball upon the inhabitants. A shadow mastiff moved up and attacked both him and Rackhir, but Scorch's daylight spell helped suppress the beast's abilities, making it easier to kill.

At the other end, Kayleigh cast light upon my buckler, and we moved into the other door. We quickly dispatched the remaining mastiff and made quick work of those cowering undead, staking them to keep them from coming back. 

It was quickly decided that the spawn should be permanently disposed of, and quickly. Others volunteered, but only Jozan was qualified to help. We detached their heads, put holy wafers within their mouths and uttered incantations, resulting in their total annihilation. Scorch wanted to help, but this required the work of the Divine, and divinity is one thing he does not have.

When this was done, I attempted to sense undead. I was overwhelmed by an image of a man standing in front of a giant, black heart, which pulsed regularly. I also detected a HUGE undead presence to our East. Jozan verified that it was evil as well. This did not surprise me, as it has been my experience that undead and evil go hand in hand.

Valanthe heard something from the room next to us though, and we decided to check it out. She sent the shadow to look for us. On one hand, I was pleased that none of us would have to risk ourselves to find out what was behind the door, but on the other, how could we trust the words of an Undead?

What we found was horrific. It was comparable to what we found when we slew Gulthias the Lesser. Death everywhere, it reeked of rotting flesh, the victims of the vampire spawn, used like cattle for them to feed upon. As luck would have it, there was a survivor; our contact from the Silent Brotherhood. She was quite weak and needed medical assistance. We tried to heal her, but she needed more than that. She needed Restoration. And I had none, for I used my only scroll upon myself, and had not prepared the spell today. The best we could do was to make her comfortable and gently remove her from this place, which is what we did.

We got as far away as we safely could without unduly risking the lady. We went maybe 2 miles and found a defensible spot in a canyon. We went about our business of setting up camp, and all seemed normal. It wasn't normal however. In a moment of weakness, I let my emotions get control of myself. After all of the horror that we've witnessed, perpetrated by the undead, and finding myself unable to help our contact due to my unwillingness to wait, I lost it.

I had to know then and there what Verilunda's intentions were. I knew from Jozan that she wasn't evil, but that didn't mean that her intentions toward us were necessarily beneficial. Valanthe certainly couldn't understand this, since she's afflicted with this shadow sense (much like my brother). I feared that asking pointed questions would cause Verilunda to show her true colors, so I saved an extra spell and when she wasn't looking, place her within a magic circle vs. chaos. It was a neat little trap that would keep us safe while I determined what she was really about. I prepared to cast zone of truth to begin investigating when people went haywireor at least Kayleigh and Valanthe did. Jozan sat back and watched, as did Scorch. I'm not sure what was going through Rackhir's mind at that time.

Kayleigh started to spout platitudes about trusting Meepo and how he and the shadow creature where the same. How she can compare a living, breathing creature to the undead, I do not know. I do not pretend to understand the ways of elves. She said that the shadow was a victim. Perhaps, but all the undead do is make more victims. She asked whether I should be restrained for the party's own good. This stopped me for a moment; I have contemplated much the same. I was about to answer that I was at least attempting to fight, and that I was willing to die before succumbing to Chavram's will, but I never got a chance, for at that moment, Valanthe disappeared.

I knew that this was a problem. I had a hold person readied just in case, but Kayleigh's spurious logic distracted me from using it. I felt her dagger in my spine. "Release her now" she said.

I attempted to explain that this was for the good of us all, and that when I had my questions answered, I would release her. She didn't believe me. I've always been true to my word, and she didn't believe me.

At that moment, Jozan heard somethinga faint bell. It grew louder, as it's source moved toward us. Around the corner we saw a lantern emerge from the darkness. Party members moved into positions of concealment and ambush. Valanthe was obviously itching to do the same thing, and pleaded with me to release the shadow now. She attempted to sound tough, but she was afraid for her newfound friend.

The bearer of the lantern was a man leading a horse. He wore a white tabard and carried a halberd emblazoned with an altered symbol of Pelor. He was a member of the Shadowed like myself. He asked to speak with the follower of Pelor within the group. Apparently he didn't know me by name, but knew that someone like me would be present. His name was Zara bin Tabara, and his manner and dress showed him to be from the far west. His face was scarred horribly, as if some evil creature raked their claws across his face. I wondered momentarily if that wound had led him to become one of the Shadowed.

I announced myself, and begged him to partake of our meager hospitality. I tried to tell him about the valiant work I had performed today. Three wights and eight vampire spawn forever removed from the landscape. As a fellow Shadowed of Pelor, I assumed he’d be pleased. I was crestfallen when he replied that it was unimportant.

He said that he came to speak with me about my intentions back in Greyhawk, and that people were worried. They're worried? I'm the one who's afflicted, and they're worried. I admitted that I had explored certain avenues, but nothing more. In front of the entire group, he mentioned my thoughts of removing my arm, and my alternate plan of branding the symbol of Pelor upon the Mark on my arm. I didn't want to discuss the particulars, but admitted yet again, that I had contemplated it, yes. Zara then mentioned about how my proposed actions would affect other Shadowed, and that the Church would rein in the autonomy that the Shadowed currently enjoyed in their pursuit of the Undead.

By now I started growing angry. I had heard quite enough back in Greyhawk about my thoughts. I showed him the brand that I had made, and which I had brought with me. I rattled off every single attempt I had made to rid myself of the mark, every spell, prayer, use of positive energy that I could think of. I would think that my colleagues and the church would be supportive of my attempts to stop my slide toward the Abyss.

His response: "How much research have you done in Greyhawk?"

Um, I haven't had time to sit down and think in Greyhawk in 7 months. No, not much research, and I freely admitted it. Not from lack of interest, but from other, outside pressures.

I turned my anger upon my colleague. "Fine. Criticize me for taking active steps. You come up with a solution then. How would you solve this? What would you do? Please? I'm waiting. I'd really like to know."

I knew his answer before he said it. Pelor would provide a solution when he was ready to, and not before then. I knew this answer to be right, and I knew it back in Greyhawk, yet I refused to listen to it then. I let him speak for a bit longer, though I didn't really listen to him. I said I'd take it under advisement and would consider it during my morning prayers.

When our business was over, he turned to Verilunda and struck up a conversation with her. I sat in stunned silence as I watched him, a Shadowed of Pelor, freely conversing with an Undead, as if it were a person. I pretended not to notice, but I listened to their little talk. Through it, I realized that she was a victim of the unholy terrors of Gulthias the Lesser, and I learned a bit about her life. He seemed quite unconcerned about her status. Clearly he thinks that she's not a threat, but I don't know why. Either he knows that he can handle her if she becomes dangerous, or he thinks that she won't harm us at all.

I will have to ask him in the morning about it.

Kayleigh said only one thing to me the rest of the night, and it haunts me as I write this now. No one else within the party has shown such a degree of distrust as I have today. I'm not sure what to make of this statement. They should see that I was acting in the best interest of everyone, but apparently I'm the only one who sees it that way.

I have never felt so alone in my life.


----------



## Zad

*From Valanthe's Journal*

*Valanthe’s Journal – Heart of Night Fang Spire, part 2*

Descent into Darkness

After managing to get Yaleth stable we knew we had leave this place and try to get her to safety, she was so close to dying. Carefully we made a retreat and after about 2 miles we set up camp for the night.

I heard Dravot casting and quickly got a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. (I know I should trust that feeling more often.) He suddenly cast a spell on Verilunda and trapped here in a circle of sorts. I know Dravot has been troubled by the recent turn of events lately with Chavram, Gulthias and the mark, but I did not think him disturbed enough to turn on one of our own. It was like a knife in my back.

“I want to question her” is what he informed the group. Anger in my voice I told him “let her go, she has done nothing to you!” I do not tolerate people harming or attempting anything on my friends. Nor do I tolerate arrogant wielders of power using it on innocents.

Thankfully I was not alone in my shock and anger. Kayleigh immediately jumped up and proceeded to dig right in and question Dravot as to what the meaning of this all was. He definitely made some thoughtful points about Verilunda being a victim, and a comparison to the group’s treatment of Meepo. I took the distraction as an opportunity, and let my anger take over for a bit. Right in front of Dravot I melted away into the darkness. 

As Kayleigh continued to try to reason with Dravot (she was excellent at pointing out a few very good things about Dravot’s unscrupulous actions) I stayed out for a second before silently coming up behind him and firmly pressing my dagger into the small of his back. This definitely put a little shake into him and I could see that he was not quite as composed as he once was. He knows all too well that I sometimes do what seems crazy to normal people, especially when defending those who I consider friends. 

He definitely heard the steel tone in my voice, “Let her go now! Is this how the high and mighty ruler of Ahlissa treats people? With such rudeness? If you had wanted to ask her something, you could have just asked her like a normal person does. She would gladly have talked with you!” I pressed a little more into his back. I was growing impatient.

Just then, Jozan informed us that we had company. (using the Jozan Instant Evil DetectionTM he could not detect any menace about the approaching figure) In the distance we heard a bell and saw what looked like a man in dark robes carrying a light. I thankfully managed to take control of my emotions again, and quietly slinked off into the darkness to get a better look at this person coming our way.

Rackhir decided to just go up and approach the cloaked figure and greet him. I cautiously crept up in silence and listened to what he had to say. His name was Zara bin Telbara, he was originally from the western lands and was a Shadowed of Pelor. Other members of the order were apparently concerned with Dravot’s actions lately and had sent him to look for him. As soon as he asked where Dravot might be I took that as a cue and with an obvious edge in my voice said “You can find your so-called follower of Pelor over there”. I got some small satisfaction, as he obviously didn’t realize I was there. He leaned his halberd in my direction and it glowed white for an instant, and he then pulled it back. “Hrrm, thanks” he said and he continued towards the camp.

Zara arrived at the encampment and found Dravot, and asked if he was the follower of Pelor who was ‘acting the fool.’ Dravot was shocked at first, then he got an attitude. ‘I slew eight vampire spawn and three wights on this day…. they will plague the world no more.’. or some such nonsense. Zara’s response was simple and to the point: “So? You can kill. Should I be impressed? “ Damn, that was a verbal smackdown if ever I heard.

I figured I’d test this guy, so I asked Verilunda to appear before him, to see what would happen. She agreed, and appeared. Zara leaped forward, dropped to a roll and made his halberd fly through the air to his hand. He thrust it towards Verilunda and it glowed white-hot…for a moment. Then he seemed to relax, stand back, and replaced his weapon. And that was that. He didn’t pay any more attention to Verilunda from that point, other than to exchange a few pleasantries with her. Then he grew silent and didn’t speak to Dravot, or anyone else for that matter. Much to Dravot’s irritation, he just sat down near the rocks and started quietly eating. I had to stifle a laugh. Obviously, the only one with the problem was Dravot.

Glad Dravot couldn’t see the huge smirk on my face. It was a fleeting sense of satisfaction though. Kayleigh and myself were definitely very aggravated at the fact that one who we had thought a friend would do such a distrustful thing. I did not expect anything said from Scorch or Rackhir, they are not one to care about much besides themselves. But it was Jozan’s silence on the whole incident that was surprising. I think Dravot was expecting the paladin to defend his erroneous assumptions. And I think it stabbed at Dravot more than anyone else that Jozan just stayed out of it. While I admit it makes me wonder, I am grateful that the Paladin obviously didn’t find Verilunda warranting the rash actions that Dravot thought were necessary.

I’ll have to think on this, on my original decision to team up with this group, and how I had thought I could trust most of them. (While I trust Kayleigh and Jozan, and I think I can trust Scorch a bit, I find Rackhir questionable - but more to that later) Right now we had better figure out what we are doing next. After the biting conversation with Zara, I sincerely hope that Dravot’s eyes were opened a bit and he doesn’t prove to be detrimental to himself and the group. Time will tell, but that is a luxury I fear we do not have…


----------



## Zad

*Bosses*

Total aside:
Most of us work in the technology field. And an unnamed one of us said there would be layoffs at his place of employment last week. There was then discussion of making an Employment check, DC16, and the question of whether a Masterwork Resume would add +2.

I clarified the rules about that and Rackhir asked: 

"I missed that part about using it against the employment check. Was that in the errata for "Pencils and Paperclips"? I had thought that was an opposed check against your boss's Int. "

My reply, which I share for your amusement on a friday:

"Boss" is a template, similar to "vampire" or "lich". They have no INT, CHA 
or WIS scores. 

Reference the SRD: 

Boss 

"Boss" is a template that can be added to any humanoid creature (referred to 
hereafter as the "character"). The creature’s type changes to "suit." It 
uses all the character’s statistics and special abilities except as noted 
here. 

Hit Dice: Increase to d10 

Speed: Same as the character 

AC: The Boss has +5 natural armor or the character’s natural armor, 
whichever is better. 

Damage: Creatures without natural weapons gain a touch attack that uses 
negative energy to deal 1d8+5 points of damage to living creatures; a Will 
save with a DC of 10 + 1/2 Boss’s HD + Boss’s Charisma modifier reduces the 
damage by half. Creatures with natural attacks can use their natural 
weaponry or use the touch attack, as they prefer. 

Special Attacks: A Boss retains all the character’s special attacks and also 
gains those listed below. Saves have a DC of 10 + 1/2 Boss’s HD + Boss’s 
Charisma modifier unless noted otherwise. 

Stupidity Aura (Su): Bosses are shrouded in a dreadful aura of idiocy. 
Creatures of less than 5 HD in a 60-foot radius that look at the Boss must 
succeed at a Will save or be affected as though by Confusion as cast by a 
sorcerer of the Boss’s level. 

Paralyzing Touch (Su): Any living creature the Boss touches must succeed at 
a Fortitude save or be permanently paralyzed into inaction. A paralyzed 
victim is incapable of making any decision or taking any action that 
further's the goals of the company. The effect cannot be dispelled. Anyone 
paralyzed by a Boss seems entirely useless and ineffectual, though a 
successful Spot check (DC 20) or Heal check (DC 15) reveals that the victim 
is still alive. This power works in conjunction with the Boss’s damaging 
touch (see above). 

Spells: The Boss can cast any spells it could cast while an employee. 

Special Qualities: A Boss retains all the character’s special qualities and 
those listed below, and also gains the suit type (see page 6). 

Damage Reduction (Su): A Boss’s body is tough, giving the creature damage 
reduction 15/+1. 

Immunities (Ex): Bosses are immune to reason, impact analysis, well reasoned 
business cases, and mind-affecting attacks. 

Saves: Same as the character 
Abilities: A Boss gains +2 to Stubborness and Constitution, but being a 
suit, has no Intelligence, Wisdom, or Charisma score. 
Skills: Bosses receive a +8 racial bonus to Hide, Cower, Evade Decision, and 
Buck Passing checks. They receive a -4 penalty to Listen, and Sense Motive. 
Otherwise same as the character. 
Feats: Same as the character 

Climate/Terrain: Any cubicle or office 
Organization: Solitary or troupe (1 Boss, plus 2-4 sycophants and 5-8 
lackeys) 
Challenge Rating: Same as the character + 2 
Treasure: Standard coins; double goods; double items, project plans 
Alignment: Lawful stupid 
Advancement: Any way they can.


----------



## Zad

*The Heart of Nightfang Spire - Chapter 3*

*The Heart of Nightfang Spire - Chapter 3*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience for this session is 1650 for everyone except Jozan, who received 2662 (surely for his excellent mediation in the crisis).

Some of the early parts of this took place via email but are included in this chapter.

Loot tally:
190p
6 gems at 20gp each
4 bone dice (oh yeah uber there)
160pp
6 gems at 20gp each.
Silver goblet with a winged dragon as the base - 245gp


*This Week’s Adventure:*

After the entire mess, tensions were high in the camp. We all kept largely to ourselves and few words were exchanged. As it grew darker, a heavy gloom settled over us and was only fueled by the rain, and the occasional feverish fragments from our rescued victim. I was quietly stewing myself. I was angry, shocked and offended at Dravot’s actions. I felt in striking against Verulinda, he struck at Valanthe, and by extension, at all of us. He did not have trust or faith in any of us, and did not even consider speaking with us first. 

A double watch was appropriate for this unfriendly area and I was on the first watch with Valanthe. As the others settled in to sleep, Jozan came and sat next to me as I quietly prepared more arrows. He pulled out a metal flask and offered it to me and I accepted gladly.

“This isn't a rift in the party. Some straining to be sure, but we're all on edge this close to the spire. What Dravot did to Verilunda was a symptom. He may not believe it himself, but he is suffering a crisis of faith within himself, as Zara Bin Tabara pointed out. It's not, I hope, a fatal flaw in his character, but a weakness brought on by the mark on his arm. And while what he did to Verilunda was a bad decision, even I agree with that, Dravot has helped us and been with us since the Sunless Citidel, and has earned the benefit of the doubt. So, “ he said with a wry grin, “our problem now is simple: one of our merry band has shown a weakness, and needs the party to help him. How should we handle it? “

Leave it to Jozan to start making sense. “By the use of a mace, applied with sufficient force, to the back of his head? No? I suppose not.” I took another sip and passed back the flask, then spoke my mind.

I said “There is no small bit of merit to your statement. Indeed a crisis of faith would seem to be the issue. The evil done by Chavram did not cause his actions in itself, but it has caused him to doubt himself and more significantly, his god. He is grasping about for solutions rather than having faith. He has been afflicted, but he does not believe Pelor will provide. As a result he casts about desperately for a solution, even those short sighted, even for a human. Meanwhile he turns his frustration into anger and vengance against the undead. An anger that is not always well placed. “

The damp chill was coming on with the night and I pulled my cloak closer as I went on. “We cannot restore his faith. That is a matter between him and his god and regretfully I can see no way for us to aid in this. But should he find his faith again, and return to us seeing the error in his deeds, it may be possible to forgive him. He has given no small offense, not only in his overt actions but in the lack of trust that must lay beneath them. (Though surely this crisis has muddled his thinking here too.) I do not know how he may earn forgiveness from each of us, but when you look at it as you have done, it should be possible for him to earn back our trust. (Although he will have no small task where Valanthe is concerned.) “ At that I couldn’t resist a wry smile.

But I even the immediate had problems. “But this raises the same question in a different way: Do we wish to enter the very lair of evil with a cleric who has lost his faith? What would this spell for us? And more troubling, what for him? “

Jozan thought about this for a moment before he answered. “Who knows what it would spell for us? It may be the cure for his affliction lies inside the tower; It may be that something in there will cause him to fall further. But will we cast aside party members, when they need our help, even if they don't know how to ask for it? “

He paused for another bit of warmth from the flask. “The problem now becomes a question of faith on our part. I believe in him, but this faith comes naturally to me. I can understand how the rest of the party might lose faith in dravot from this, but this mistrust is an illness in the group that must be...well, a cure will take some time, no question. but we must not let it get in the way of our duty here.” 

He passed back the flask as he said “Besides, where are we going to get another cleric at this hour?” And I had to laugh.

I took a sip and followed the though. “It seems either we turn away from this festering cancer and return to Greyhawk, brought low by this deed, or we steel ourselves, support our comrade and destroy the evil within” I said waving the flask absently at the spire “and perhaps that very evil might shepherd Dravot to a new path.”

I realized that Jozan had just about changed my mind on all this. I looked at him a moment and said “Sehanine chose well.”

“Very well. You've convinced me - something I thought would not be easily done mind you.” At that I stopped and looked at the flask suspiciously a moment. Then shrugged and took another sip before returning it. “I still think he will need to seek forgiveness among us, but should he emerge from this crisis I have no doubt he will wish to do so. But that can wait for later. What concerns me now is if he will continue to persecute this shadow or if he will let it go and turn his attention back to the greater evil. If he can at least focus on our mission then we can deal with matters here. If not, then we have a problem.”

Jozan nodded at this as he took the flask. “I think we can get his focus away from Verilunda. I'll have to refill the flask, though.” And he gave a smile and moved off to perform his prayers.

After an hour, the others were asleep, save Jozan still praying. Valanthe appeared next to me – a phenomenon I’m getting all too used to, and seemed ready to talk. Funny, an hour before I would have had a very different conversation with her, but having thought on Jozan’s words I had come to a different mind.

“I know you are as concerned about Dravot's recent behavior as I am. Are we going to be able to count on him or even trust him to think and clearly for the rest of our assault on the spire? If not, what then?”

I said to her much the same thing that Jozan had said to me. But her question had a sense of the immediate and deserved a particular answer. 

I told her “But you asked something different. Can we go on as we are now? I do not know. Dravot has lost faith, and his anger and frustration have turned against all things undead as a release for what he cannot change in himself. If he insists on directing this at Verulinda, then we will have great difficulty in our task. If he will set her 
aside and focus his attentions on Gulthias, then I believe we can proceed and settle the rest later. So it hinges on just that. I think he will need to rest and pray before he is ready to answer that question however. So in the morning we can ask and proceed from there.”

By the end I felt like I was talking like Jozan. All I could do is sigh.

She thought a moment and sayd “Aye, you and Jozan do speak true, but it is sometimes not as easy for me to forget such events. Whilest the rest of you may be accustomed to working with others, I have always had to rely on myself, my wits, and instinct - it is not an easy thing. And while I might have known Dravot longer, I have no doubt in Verilunda, nor she in me. She and I are tied more closely that one knows.”

I had the same hesitation and told her so. “I do not readily forget such events either. We do have a long memory. And Dravot will need to find a way to mend the damage he has done. But for the sake of what he has done over the last year, I am willing to give him time to realize what he has done and make amends.”

She seemed to accept this for now. “I will do what I can to help but I will also be on my guard. I trust that he does not slip further down into the dark. I will let time run its course and I hope it's not the death of anyone in our motley crew.”

I replied that there is little else to be done, for now. And she disappeared into the many shadows around. I did not actually see her for the rest of the watch but she was there all the same.

At the end of my watch, I roused Dravot, and Jozan, who was resting a bit, and tried to settle into a trance. I sorely needed the time to allow this chaos to settle. I was aware that Jozan and Dravot were having a conversation, and the topic would not be hard to guess. But I was more interested in rest than eavesdropping.

Dravot suddenly looked at his arm as if in pain, and then an arcane bolt of energy burst forth, and a wave of magic swept over the party. The energy returned and coalesced into a form. A human form.

It was Chavram.

I tried to stand, but I was fixed in place. There was an imperative in my mind that I remain where I was and do nothing. I could watch, but no more. Chavram turned towards Dravot and Jozan, and ordered them to kneel. I could see they were resisting but still fell to their knees. Jozan particularly was defiant. He could see two very large rings, one on each of Chavram’s hands. Each had a stone with a different color and the air of magic was almost palpable. Surely they were two of the binders. He waved absently and Dravot and Jozan’s hands were bound behind their backs.

It wasn’t til then that I heard another sound. The sound of snoring. Scorch was still asleep. Whereas everyone else who was asleep was instantly awakened by Chavram’s domination, Scorch remained in snoring ignorance. I presumed that meant he was still free of Chavram’s control. [OOC: DC28 will save but Scorch made it that bugger.]

Chavram heard it too, and turned slowly towards Scorch. “The wizard is still free of will. This irritates me. Your incompetence knows no bounds, boy. I’ll deal with it.” I later learned that Sebastian too was here, and that was the target of Chavram’s scorn. At a gesture, Scorch was pinned to the ground by a wall of force, and jolted awake. He could not move. But Scorch has a knack for having just the right spell at any moment and with only words he was able to dimension door off into the darkness. Chavram looked annoyed but ignored it.

He turned back to Dravot. “You’ve caused me a great deal of trouble boy. You may stand.” At that Dravot stood. Chavram then looked upon Jozan. “This one resists me. I was not aware there were some who could.” But after that he returned his focus to Dravot. “I can’t have you cutting yourself up boy – I still have plans for you. This could . . . inconvenience me. I still have some binders to collect. You will aid me in that.”

Dravot muttered something defiant and Chavram replied “Oh you will aid me… after I transform you. Now how did you alter the mark?”

Dravot had no idea what Chavram meant. Had he found a way to alter the mark he would have done so. He had contemplated a brand that would go over the mark, but had not yet used it. Chavram thought upon that and since Dravot is a horrible liar, believed him. “Still,” Chavram said “I need the mark and I need you.”

Dravot refused to budge. “You can’t have me.”

Chavram nearly laughed. “I already have you boy. I have the rest of the family, why can’t I have you? Why do you all have to be so contentious?” He talked more like he was arguing over a horse. “What am I to do then… how am I to resolve this problem?”

Chavram seemed to happen upon an idea and turned on Rackhir. “The archer… ah…yes. You’d be perfect. Our mutual interests are assured and you’d be a far more willing servant.”

Rackhir simply said “What do you want?”

Chavram gladly answered “Well from my grandson I want a great deal, but from you…. A proposition: I want to slay Iuz.” Rackhir was most surely interested. Chavram went on about how Iuz and Vecna sought to collect all three Theoparts. (These are parts of some ancient power that Mordenkainen separated and placed in the hands of various enemies so they would not be re-united.) Chavram does not wish this to happen. While Chavram can do little against Vecna, he can deal with Iuz. 

Rackhir obviously harbors more of a vendetta against Iuz than he has previously indicated. I’m not sure he was totally willing, but he was clearly not totally opposed either. Chavram says “Ali Ben Yala, move the mark.” There was screaming from both Dravot and Rackhir and energy flashing over both their bodies. Rackhir crumpled to his knees, while Dravot passed out completely. The mark was gone from Dravot’s arm, but now the mark of the Emperor’s Hounds appeared on Rackhir’s forehead.

While this was happening, Scorch had escaped into the darkness of the canyon. He could barely make out some shapes in the distance (after casting darkvision). He could see one mane in fine clothes but his skin was cracked. It was likely either Dravot’s father or brother. Behind him Scorch could make out things moving around and surely their intent was not good for Scorch. From behind him, Crescent came running to Scorch, and Scorch climbed on. 

Rackhir again asked “What do you want from me?”

Chavram said “First, you have contact with the Great Index and that is useful to me. You also have…connections. You will come into contact with one of the closed nodes and they would receive you well. You will help me recruit them and free them from the Black Brotherhood to whom they are now beholden.

There was a sudden glow around Jozan that nobody was expecting. It was not hard to see it as a cat’s grace. But where had that come from, and why? Then I could see it – apparently Meepo had dug out a scroll and cast it. Surely he had no idea which one it was though. Chavram waved his pinky and there was the sound of a kobold being pummeled.

Chavram, unfazed, went on. “We have a connection now. I will contact you as needed.” To Rackhir he said “Take care of yourself. Do not get yourself killed when I went to some trouble to get that attached.” He then berated Sebastian a bit. In that he said something about “not to let Fraz do anything to the mark.” The only Fraz I could think of was Fraz Erb Lu - a demon prince and lord of deception. But how this could have any bearing on this situation was beyond me. 

He then yells “Sebastian! We’re leaving. Tell your father and idiot brother not to harm the mage and leave them.” And Chavram then faded out.

One by one our free will returned. Except for Zara who seemed quite unable to break free. A spell from Jozan released him however.

We started at one another in shock and confusion. The mark of the hounds still smoked on Rackhir’s forehead. Rackhir now had the touch of undead, and Dravot was free of it. None of us had the faintest idea what to do next.

I concluded that this was a rather significant turn of events and that perhaps it was time to use the other property of the scales. I tried to contact Lord Gelban. It took some effort and was difficult but eventually Lord Gelban’s image formed in my mind, though it shifted oddly at times.

Lord Gelban listened intently and was nearly as shocked as we were at this turn of events. He mentioned the Black Brotherhood is the offshoot of the Scarlet Brotherhood – they worship Therizdun and seek his release. As for Fraz, he doubted that unless the Horned Society was involved. They worshipped ones such as Fraz. But the Horned Society did appear in the dream I shared with Jozan…

This development opened an endless stream of new questions, but the most immediate was how to proceed right now. Either there was no binder here, or Chavram could not get to it, more likely the former. Chavram did not seem to care what we did about Gulthias or he would have stopped us. Gulthias definitely has access to some kind of powerful item that can channel negative energy great distances. 

I had some relief when Lord Gelban said “You were wise to contact me, Kayleigh.” I thought this all to be quite significant but did hold some small worry that he would think this too trivial to contact him over.

Lord Gelban directs us to proceed as we see fit, and requests we contact him again at dawn. He believes Gulthias still should be stopped, but realizes that there are many other issues. At that, we all retire again to try to rest as best we can. I was too agitated to rest without the help of a sip of wine, after which I was at least able to find some measure of peace.

Just before dawn, Zara’s halberd began glowing. He stuck it into the ground and kneeled. And then his features and shape began to change. He got slightly smaller somehow, and the symbol on the halberd changed to a normal symbol of Pelor. Then he stood, but it was no longer him. Zera bin Tebara stood up – now a woman. She looked at Jozan and bid him good morning, as if this were a completely normal occurrence. Jozan recognized her as a paladin. She absently mentioned something about the curse of the Tebareen, a family curse, and something about angering wizards. (Valanthe seemed a bit concerned at this but said nothing.) She was still willing to see to the safe escort of the woman we rescued.

This left us with another matter – that of Dravot. If he insisted on persecuting Verulinda, then we should not return to the Spire. If on the other hand he would rather focus his efforts on Gulthias, then we could proceed. I put this question to him directly in front of everyone. There was talk of private conversations but since the act was committed in public and the answer affects us all, it too should be openly discussed.

Dravot said that he was wrong. In his desperation to fight the undead forces applied to him and with the zeal that has come upon him to fight all undead, he missed the fact that Verulinda is not a threat and is not evil. He only saw the fact that she was not alive and for that he was wrong, and he apologized. He has begged guidance from Pelor and has begged his forgiveness as well. While this cannot make up for that act he hopes that Valanthe understands that this is at least a first step towards mending that. Valanthe seemed content with this, and apologized for her part in this. Everyone seemed content at this and the matter was dropped.

For myself, I’m not sure I can forget so quickly. We shall see.

As instructed, we contact Lord Gelban again. It was oddly much easier this time. The Silvering has confirmed that Gulthias has something powerful at his command and that we need to deal with it regardless. At first they had suspected a binder but if he had access to a binder he would surely use it. The binder may have been removed from this place, but something powerful still lies within. Chavram’s indifference to our attack on Gulthias is something to be concerned about though. They hope to have more information about the remaining binders and how to access them soon, courtesy of the studies being done on the Great Index. Lord Gelban said “Our knowledge of the Theoparts is most distressing.” I’m not sure if he meant what we reported was distressing, or that we knew of them at all. In any case, we tell him we will proceed as planned.

Dravot then turns his attention to our rescued captive. His spells restore much of her health. She tells us she had thought she remained at a safe distance but they came in the night and took her by surprised. Gulthias has harnessed some sort of incredibly powerful necromantic artifact in the tower’s protected core. (She could not dimension door into it.) Gulthias is a fanatic and worships the dragon Ashardalon – the same one mentioned in the Sunless Citadel. Ashardalon is either dead or simply gone, but Gulthias is insane. Ashardalon was killed by a druid by the name of Dydd. She believes that Gulthias will try to bring Ashardalon back if he gets enough power. He has summoned some servitors also. If Gulthias can’t raise the dragon, he’ll raise as many undead creatures as he can to attempt to prove himself worthy to bring back Ashardalon.

Zera will take the woman and head for the Pale as the nearest safe place. As she packs, we prepare to assault the tower once again.

We again return to the top of the Spire via Scorch’s polymorph. Inside we notice the tracks of many humanoid creatures, and for some the size of the feet do not match.

We then proceed to move through the floor room by room, not wishing to leave anything to assault our flank. We find various debris, some small treasures, (oddly a few dice) and some rooms with sarcophagi and shadows lurking within. The shadows are easily driven back by Dravot and are scarcely a threat. Carved on the sarcophagi are elven figures with vaguely reptilian features, again hearkening back to the Citadel.

Dravot was detecting a large undead presence and we were finally ready to enter that room. Whatever we were expecting, we did not find it.

Inside a small sliver of a room on the tower’s outer edge there was a large puddle completely covering the floor. The black liquid sat unquietly, swirling and bubbling. After the door was opened, it began seeping towards the door. We fell back slightly unsure how to approach it. I fired a flaming arrow to test the effect but the liquid simply snuffed the flame. Dravot began attempting to destroy it with positive energy – Jozan attempted to bolster Dravot’s power in this. Even so it took several attempts before the liquid flashed and turned to ash, and we had no small relief at that.

In one small room was a set of spiral stairs leading downward. Content that we had left nothing behind on this floor we moved downward. At the bottom of the stairs Valanthe found a carving of a gulthias tree in marble, laced with some type of divination magic. 

Before we had even all gone down the stairs, we were under attack. Specters began floating through the walls and tearing at our group. Jozan was touched by them and felt his life force ripped away. Dravot too felt their icy touch. Then a mummy burst through the door and slashed at Jozan with a small weapon and tore a significant wound.

We wasted no time in retreating. We were unprepared and unable to fight in such a small space. We hoped to at least withdraw to the area above that Dravot consecrated in his attempts to turn the ooze. While retreating the specters again touched Jozan.

However, once we were upstairs, the specters did not follow. We considered this odd but were not questioning it. Considering that our group had been seriously drained, and that Dravot had already used the single scroll of restoration we had in fighting the vampires, we withdrew from the tower to better prepare.


----------



## Zad

*From Dravot's Journal*

*Dravot’s Journal, Heart of Nightfang Spire II*

We have retreated from the spire, fleeing from foul specters that took us unprepared and unawares. Jozan and I both experienced the frightening drain of these evil creatures and I am most concerned for both of us. My ability to restore energies lost from the drain has been taken from me; we must steel our courage and strength and appeal to our gods for aid.

The mood in camp is subdued. We are all still reeling from the events of the last 12 hours.

I was on mid-watch with Jozan, discussing Verilunda and my actions. He brought me to the realization that I made a severe mistake in misjudging the shadow’s intentions. Even as I recognized it, I couldn’t accept the notion, and resolved again to speak with Zara about it in the morning.

During our conversation, I felt a severe burning in my arm…within the mark. I have never felt such pain. Energy exploded out from it in all directions and suddenly Chavram stood before us. Everyone else was pinned to the ground, but Jozan and I resisted his evil machinations…at least for a bit. Eventually I succumbed to Chavram’s overpowering strength and he forced me to kneel before him. My hands were bound behind my back. Clearly, he thought I might do him some harm.

He seemed concerned for the Mark upon my arm. He knew about my thoughts for branding it, or worse. I’m not sure if he had spies about, or if the Mark allowed him to eavesdrop upon my plans, but this was disturbing news. Apparently something had affected the Mark though, and Chavram wanted to know what it was. I refused details, but admitted that I had tinkered with it. I thought about lying, but saw no purpose in it. Chavram wondered if some demon lord had tampered with it…Fraz. While I’m happy to see Chavram worried about something, the notion of a demon lord tampering with the Mark upon me is a disturbing one.

I denounced Chavram, saying how I would see his plans come to ruin. He laughed at me, clearly discounting my growing skills. I may not be able to yet, but I will see the day when his presence is removed from this plane permanently and my family and lands can live in peace. He told me that I would transform into undead, just like my father and brother and aid him in his mad quest. I will not allow that to pass.

Chavram turned to Rackhir, offering him some sort of alliance vs. Iuz. I knew that Rackhir had no love for Iuz, but I found that his willingness to accept an offer from Chavram in order to fight Iuz to be a bit shocking. Calling upon the binder from my homelands, Chavram had the mark removed from my arm and placed upon Rackhir’s forehead. I passed out from the intense pain.

I awoke to find the Mark of the Emperor’s Hounds smoking on Rackhir’s forehead, and my arm to be free, finally free. A quick scan showed that I no longer had the taint of undead upon myself, but Rackhir reeked of it. I am still at a loss when considering the implications of this.

I am most disturbed to learn that my father and brother were present, as was the Bastard Sebastian. I am certain that they are acting under Chavram’s will, and I will see them laid to rest appropriately.

Kayleigh contacted Gelban about our encounter, and promised to speak with him later on in the morning.

An hour later, Zara’s halberd started to glow, and he picked it up and strode a short way from camp. I took the opportunity to follow him, and respectfully asked him about Verilunda. He told me what I had already figured out…she was no threat. Just as mortals have all sorts of motivations, so do the undead. Pelor’s displeasure for the undead isn’t in their lack of mortal life…it’s in the evil that certain undead do. For sure, there are more evil undead than non-evil, but there are exceptions to the rule. I must take this lesson with me for the future.

I thanked Zara and started to move away to let him pray when he glowed with a shimmering light and started to change. I was at first alarmed by this, but watched patiently, ready to act if need be. He transformed into a woman! She was slightly smaller than him and she seemed vaguely familiar. Her features were similar to that of Zara. She introduced herself as Zira bin Tabara, a paladin of Pelor. She and her brother, Zara were under a curse, she was destined to walk in sunlight, and he was denied the light of Pelor. I asked if I could help, but she said no…the curse would only be broken with the accomplishment of good deeds. She agreed to take the lady Yaelith with her to safety.

During this discussion, I was looking for an opportunity to speak with Valanthe alone. I needed to apologize to her, and more importantly to Verilunda. Kayleigh wrecked those plans by publicly asking me for an explanation for my actions. She was worried that I might try something else. I was most annoyed with her, for this was meant to be a private apology for a private action, and should have had no affect upon anyone else. Certainly, to propose that I would do anything to jeopardize our mission is preposterous. Last night was a mistake, yes, but only that. A mistake.

So, denied of the opportunity of speaking with Valanthe in private, I apologized to her in front of everyone. I made a mistake, and I acknowledge that now. My wont for revenge upon the forces of the undead has colored my thoughts to an unhealthy degree, and I know this now. I can see that my actions have disrupted the fragile unity that our group has built up over the past few months, and for that, I am sorry. I told Valanthe that an apology is only the first step toward re-earning her trust, and not the final step of atonement. 

I may have to do the same for others within the group. So be it. I will do what I can to show my regret (and my intention to make up for my past deed), and it will be upon their souls to accept or reject my actions. Pelor requests that good works be done, I will oblige. I can do no more, I will do no less.

I restored some of Yaelith’s lost energies, which she had lost to the foul vampire spawn. She was awake enough to speak with us, mentioning that Gulthias has an evil, necromantic artifact within the spire, and that the core of the tower is protected from various majicks, preventing many forms of magical access. We had to go back in the way we did previously.

And so we did. We found several shadows, and I turned them easily, killing them in the process. The holy light of Pelor filled me this day. We searched every room carefully as we went along, recovering treasures that the unholy beasts were harboring. 

Eventually we approached the massive undead obstacle that I had detected previously. It was huge, diffuse and spread out. We opened the door and found a black liquid substance upon the floor, and it started seeping out of the room. Yes, it was the undead that I detected. We tried various things upon it. Daylight, searing light, holy water, greater turnings…nothing worked. I consecrated the area to allow me to work stronger turnings, but nothing. Items tossed into it dissolved quickly. We started retreating down the hall. We were running out of options. I tried to use positive energy once more, vainly trying anything. This time the might of Pelor was with me, and it dissolved, leaving a bit of residue and dust in it’s place.

We then moved downstairs. The stairs were in a small room, with a tree engraved upon the floor below us. Jozan opened the door at the bottom of the stairs when we were beset upon by specters. I was hit once, feeling the icy touch as it drained energy from my being. Jozan was hit by two of them, and tells us that he was also beset upon by a mummy which moved up to engage him in combat.

We realized that this narrow room was no place to fight, but I doubted that we could avoid a fight. We could however choose our location…upstairs where I had consecrated the hallway. We quickly moved into the area, waiting for them to show themselves…but nothing. They did not pursue…something which I still find odd.

So now we wait for the effect from the specters to either wear off or become permanent. I will pray to Pelor for his aid, and then we will go back and we will destroy them. I am most certain that the only one who will be annoyed with me for destroying them will be Gulthias, and for that I am glad.


----------



## Zad

*The Heart of Nightfang Spire - Chapter 4*

*The Heart of Nightfang Spire - Chapter 4

OOC Notes:*

Experience this session is 2761 for everyone except Kayleigh who gets 2275


*Notes for Next Time:*

If I recall correctly, Gelban again raised the question of whether we want to go back and continue, or withdraw from the mission. 


*This Week’s Adventure:*

[There is no new entry in Kayleigh’s journal.]


----------



## Zad

*The Heart of Nightfang Spire - Chapter 4*

*Dravot’s Journal -Heart of Nightfang Spire III*

I write this awaiting the dawn, when Scorch will teleport myself and Kayleigh’s body back to Greyhawk, along with himself. Gelban has made arrangements with my temple to raise Kayleigh from the dead. I can only hope that she wishes to return.

Nightfang Spire continues to test our wills and is our greatest challenge to date. Even Chavram doesn’t seem as difficult as this accursed place.

When Jozan and I recovered from our encounter with the specters, we headed back into the spire. We had a plan to deal with them, and it seemed reasonable. We would do our utmost to provide Kayleigh with the best armor our majicks could provide. With her superior dexterity, she would be the most resistant to the draining touch of the specters. She would be the rabbit to draw out the foxes so that we could hunt them down.

As my father always said, no plan survives contact with the enemy…and this was no exception to that rule.

We found that the first level was re-inhabited by a few vampire spawn and specters. We made quick work of them, and followed them back into the same room with the stone coffins and then destroyed them permanently. I plan on removing those coffins the next time we go back in there.

We then moved up to the stairway and the scene of our hasty retreat from the spire the day before. We set up our final few spells. I cast negative energy protection upon myself, and Scorch cast haste upon me as well. I needed to be able to toss down extra spells and turnings quickly, and we needed me to survive any specter touches, else we would have to retreat yet again.

Kayleigh moved down the stairs and into the room. Nothing. She opened the door, not trying to make noise, but not avoiding either. Nothing. She moved back to the stairs and chaos erupted all about her, in the form of 6 shadow mastiffs, which surrounded her completely.

We quickly moved in to aid her. Scorch was in bug form and flew down into the room out of the way. The daylight spell he had cast earlier would prove invaluable, as it would keep the mastiffs from using their shadow defenses. Rackhir moved down the stairs and lept deftly into the corner where he planned to wreak havoc upon the beasts. Valanthe climbed down the wall and started in on them as well. Jozan and I moved down the stairs, and Jozan attacked the beast upon the stairs.

The battle started out some what predictably…we took our lumps as we moved in, finding our rhythm and then we set about to destroy the beasts. Then, one by one, they erupted in a horrible baying howl that chilled me to the bone. I wanted to flee, run in terror, but managed to get control of myself and stay to fight. Others in the party experienced the same inner conflict of fight or flight. Rackhir succumbed to the terror and fled out the door and off into other rooms. I had no idea where he went, but feared for his safety.
A few seconds later, Valanthe decided that she could take no more and climbed up the wall and back to the first floor. I was concerned for her, but since we had cleared out that level, I figured that she’d be safe for a bit.

Scorch then unleashed a cone of frost upon 3 of the hounds, destroying them. This gave Kayleigh room to move back and unleash some arrows into one of them, and Jozan and I hacked upon another. We quickly dispatched of them all.

We established that Rackhir and Valanthe were safe, and decided to press on. We had only so much time before these spells wore off, and needed to make use of that time. Hindsight is the clearest, and now I wish we had gathered our comrades before pressing on. I detected undead to the right (Rackhir turned to the left), so Kayleigh moved up and opened the door and right into the room, just like the plan.

In retrospect, the plan had some gaping holes. We didn’t take into account the despair that could fall upon people in the presence of a mummy. We didn’t plan on Kayleigh being so far ahead of us before we could get to her and assist her with anything. We didn’t anticipate what the mummy would do if it had an isolated victim.

I could only stand there and watch as the mummy, Aotek moved up to her and killed her in an instant. It felt like time was at a standstill and I could do nothing else to help her. I am sure that I will be haunted by those images tonight and in my dreams for weeks to come. We plan on bringing her back from the Afterlife tomorrow (if she is amenable), but that is little comfort tonight.

As her body fell to the ground, I knew what I had to do. We needed to recover her body as fast as possible, and we needed to destroy this evil villain permanently. I consecrated the area and then invoked the powers of Pelor to destroy 2 specters outright and Jozan dragged Kayleigh’s corpse to safety. Another specter moved up and tried to drain me of life energy, but could not. He was burned by my fireshield in the process and I smirked a bit at him.

The mummy performed some bizarre tumbling action and wound up behind me, in the corridor. I wanted to strike at him as he passed, but his speed and agility proved to be too much for me to handle. He struck at me with a stunning blow, but my armor shrugged off the shot, and he was also injured by the fireshield.

Jozan moved back into combat, and engaged the mummy, exchanging blows with it. Scorch fired some magic missiles at the remaining specters at the same time. At this point, Rackhir came running back around the hallway, expecting to help out, but caught sight of the mummy and found himself paralyzed with fear. One of the specters went to him and drained him of life force.

At this point, the remaining specters were far apart from each other, and my turnings had little effect upon the mummy. Unsure of what to do, I turned the nearby specter, forcing him to flee, I then turned around and attempted to injure the mummy with the searing light of Pelor, but the mummy was too fast and I missed.

Valanthe appeared out of the shadows next to me and attacked the nearby specter, but missed. I invoked a greater turning from Pelor and destroyed the specter that was threatening Rackhir. After seeing Kayleigh collapse, I was in no mood to see any of the rest of my companions in a similar state.

Jozan and Scorch finished off the mummy with sword blows and lightning bolts, and I used searing light upon the last remaining specter. We searched the rooms and the mummy’s corpse quickly, gathering the loot and retreated from the spire yet again.


*Dravot’s Journal – Nightfang Spire III (back in Greyhawk)*

Kayleigh is once again alive, and I praise Pelor for his help in this. Gelban made arrangements with the temple for raising her from the dead. I was prepared to call in whatever favors I had (admittedly few at the moment, given my recent behavior) or even return my greater holy symbol, but ultimately did not need to do so.

She is weak and somewhat disoriented, which is understandable. I have taken care of her wounds and healed her back up. At this point, I think, the greatest wound remaining is to her pride, but I cannot heal that for her…only she can do it.

Gelban says that he’ll understand if we don’t want to go back to the Spire. Kayleigh seems reticent, which makes sense under the circumstances. I hope that she returns, but I will go back with or without her, as I refuse to let the Spire get the best of me. Gulthias will fall.

Scorch is taking some time to identify some of the items that we have found recently, so I spent much of the afternoon and evening running errands, picking up supplies, putting Jasmine upon a new task for the house, and I plan on speaking with my superiors at the Temple shortly. I will tell them of my decisions and recent actions, and fill them in on the details of Rackhir and Chavram, and to hand them the brand which I was prepared to use upon my arm.

In the meantime, I will go to the temple hospital and help heal and tend to the sick. If I have time, I will pray for us all.


----------



## Zad

*A letter*

The acolyte entered, dressed in simple brown robes, the finely crafted leather belt and amulet about his neck the only embellishments he wore. He walked silently, as dictated by the code, and kneeled before the elderly figure sitting at the small writing table. The old elf, dressed in a similar fashion, seemed to look even plainer, if it could be said to be possible. His brow furrowed at the sight of the young elf that knelt before him.
"Javril...get off the floor. If I've told you once, I've told you a dozen score that we are equals. The people of the Testing are equal in their past, as likes their future. Enough with this nonsense."

"As you say, sir", he replied. Even this had an air of deference, and in truth, the whole scene repeated many times each day. It had almost become a ritual, though the old elf found it tiresome and wished it had not. As he spoke, the younger elf rose and offered forth a scroll of fine vellum, a wax seal plain upon it. The elder had not doubt as to whom it was from.

"There's a good lad," replied the elder, taking the scroll. "Off with you now. We need less rest than humans, but we need it still. It was time you were abed."

"As you say, master...but I will wait in the chamber without all the same. The messenger felt it might be necessary to send a return message with some haste."

Knowing he could do little to dissuade young Javril, the elder dismissed him to his duty, promising to summon him shortly if a message was needed, or to send him away if he was sure not to. The elder waited patiently until he was alone to examine the scroll.

The wax seal bore a golden dragon taking flight. From Gelban, then. The Gilden indulged in few vanities or pleasures, but this was one. The elder's eyes could see the wards placed upon the paper. Any but he to open it and the message gone, and probably far worse. Gelban truly hated spies, it was true. He broke the seal and began to read the scroll.

It read:

_Silvering,

Kayleigh is dead.

The Spire, which you assured me was not beyond their ken, has surely proved a difficult task for them, and now one of them has fallen. I know you find my distress at the plight of our servants an indulgence, and think me soft-hearted or overly-sensitive. But I cannot and will not willingly send them into death. Danger, yes, but not certain suicide. 

I have made arrangements with church of Pelor. They have no great love for merchants, but Kayleigh was an elf of good repute, and my donations [from my own hoard, you'll note] have certainly made them more receptive to the idea. Would that I could have convinced them for a True Resurrection, but they quietly put my messengers off that idea. I would go in person to plead my case, but you know the enchantments that guard the Temple do not make judgements as to your attitude...our kind are kept away as a rule.

Dravot and Scorch have returned with her body, and set about making the arrangments. The others have remained behind in Fallen Tenh, to await the outcome and decide their next course of action. Gulthias be damned. Were there not wards, I would see this done ourselves. But Ashardalon saw to that, as he saw to so much. Damn him, and the rest of the Spectral. We have much unfinished business with them.

...

Kayleigh is awakened, now. Her manner is most distressing to me. She is lost to herself. I worry that I may needs to keep her from returning to the spire, lest she do more harm than good. I still owe her father a debt, and the Celenian would scarce appreciate the loss of a champion.

I worry what power Gulthias has awoken, and if it was you theorized in your last letter. Is such a thing possible? And what does it mean for the supplicants who follow him?

The Mark has been moved from Dravot to Rackhir. I find this news disturbing, not comforting. I never approved of the northman's inclusion in the ranks of our servants, and now he is distressingly close to embracing one of our enemies. Your assurances that he will serve his part are cold comfort to me.

Of even more concern is the news that the upstart, Chavram, believed the mark to have been altered or tampered with. By whom? And when? Dravot has no recollection of such a thing...and Chavram mentioned the name of Fraz'Urb'Luu. Could the Society be on the rise again? If so, what are we to do about it?

See me at your earliest convienence.

The Gilden
_

The Silvering stared at the paper for some minutes. He sighed an ancient great sigh, as only the oldest of all living dragons could. Would his penance never end?

He summoned Javril back to the study, and issued a letter to Gelban. Javril waited quietly, and when the time was ready, took the message and teleported away.

After he left, The Silvering sighed, again. If only he had been more diligent with the elves...if only he had prevented the discovery of the keys when he had the chance...then none of this, none of it, would have happened.


----------



## Zad

*DM Observations*

Originally posted by Wizardru
-------------------------------------

*The DM's Perspective*

So what happened, you may ask?

A few different things. 

First, the players had a plan. It was a good one. Boffo. And but for a few will saves, it would have worked flawlessly. Kayleigh, I found out, was intended to attact the spectres, and then a whammy was to be laid down. The problem? The spectres were waiting for an attack, and were told to hold their position.

So when Kayleigh arrived in the stairwell room where they'd been ambushed last time, she was expecting another one. It didn't happen. Dravot, who had an extended haste, was waiting to run in and use a consecrate and follow it up with Greater Turning. What Dravot's journal fails to mention is that Kayleigh nearly began doing a jig on the Gulthis tree symbol...and that caused the mastiffs to appear.

Scorch flew in, and with his daylight spell, the mastiffs stopped being a threat. Except that room was still limited, but they weren't hitting at all. However they started baying, and first Rackhir and then Valanthe both succumbed to Panic. This screwed up the Plan something terrible.

Not wanting to waste the spells, Kayleigh rushed into the room with the Mummy, and ran smack dab into a failed will save against Aotek's Despair ability. He Coup-de-Graced her with the kama, and she went down like a piece of meat.

Rackhir ran through half the level, always managing to run through safe rooms.  Valanthe, meanwhile, decided to roll the dice again, and this time called upon (as a mental action) Ralishaz the Unsought for help to save the group. Initially she hoped to exchange her life for Kayleigh's...but that's out of Ralishaz's domain. He did remove the panic from Rackhir and Valanthe, Shadow Jumped Val back into the fight, and gave both of them signifcant temporary bonuses. Which, in Rackhir's case, backfired when he still managed to fail the despair save against the mummy. Luckily, the Spectre who targeted him chose merely to drain him...as is their wont.

It could have gone bloodier, but it also could have gone much smoother.

At this point, I'm reviewing the module. I'm beginning to think that CR10 is a little low for this module, which seems to have some killer encounters in it. I only added one spectre to scale the encounter up for the party. In truth, even if Aotek hadn't coup-de-grace'd Kayleigh, she'd have been cut to ribbons and drained simlutaneously. And I wasn't even running this as nasty as I could have.

I may increase the x.p. awards, after checking the x.p. calculations. My biggest problem is the encounter is EL Variable, which is functionally useless for determining x.p. awards. Come on Bruce Cordell, gimme some guidance. 

Hiatus week coming, and some discussion amongst the party. Kayleigh's been having a heck of a time lately. Time for the Paladin and Cleric to get cracking with the mad skillz.


----------



## Zad

Originally posted by Wizardru
--------------------------------------

Somewhere, very far away, an old thing rouses from it's sleep. It looks lazily around, still not awake, and realizes that it remains trapped within the belly of something even more ancient than itself. Something so ancient, even the parasites who use it do not know it's name.
It cannot awaken...is not allowed to awaken. But there are other ways, other beings that can aid it. A debt is owed...a debt shall be paid. 

The bones shall roll.


----------



## Zad

*From Dravot's Journal*

*Dravot’s Journal – Nightfang Spire III (still in Greyhawk)*

Just a quick note before I go to meet with Scorch.

Jasmine has done wonders with the new house. She has hired a full staff and is arranging for 2 libraries for me. Our encounter with Aotek made me realize that while I have learned much about the Undead, there is still much I do not know. To my shame and embarrassment, Verilunda has made me realize this as well. I will endeavor to track down and make the best library of legend and lore about the undead that I can. If we stay here longer, I will start tomorrow by combing through bookstores and making contact with various agents in town.

I met with Prestwick, the head of the Temple to hand over the brand. I mentioned to Cunegunda in passing about my decision, and she seemed quite pleased. I cannot begin to imagine the worry that I have put people through here in Greyhawk.

Prestwick’s office chambers were the same as I remember it from the last time I was there. I have only been in the rooms once before, when I first came to Greyhawk. I told him briefly about our last trip into the spire, explaining why I was back so soon. He knew why, but let me speak in my own words.

I told him about my encounter with the Tabharin, and what Zara told me, but that I had already decided not to go through with the branding.

"As well, young one. We feared that you had turned too far into shadow to serve, and were in danger of falling from the path. We shall keep the brand...as a reminder of your wisdom and of Pelor's grace."

He reached to take the brand, but was suddenly surrounded by a powerful aura of yellow light, and the golden symbol was repelled from his touch, and was knocked from my hand. It began to glow with an awful red fire the color of blood, marring the symbol of Pelor into....something hideous. The fire then disappeared from whence it came, leaving the stamp half-melted. Prestwick and I stared at it in disbelief and horror. Other members of the church arrived, and verified that we were both alright, and that we were free from any taint. I shuddered. "Something must have tainted the brand. I wonder what would have happened if I had gone through with it." Truth be told, I don’t want to know the answer.

Prestwick agreed. "I shudder to think. But I am concerned with the origin of it. The blessings of Pelor protect me, or I might never have noticed it's taint. I fear for what may have been wrought with it, and how it was made. I will need to know of whoever you commissioned to fashion the thing, and we must learn more of it. Perhaps this is linked to what Chavram found....or someone who wished you ill, perhaps. Fear not, the truth shall be learned."

I told him about McGilivray, who ran the smithy for the temple. McGilivray refused to help but recommended a smith named Brontal in the Leadenhall Market who agreed to help me. Brontal was a devout follower of Pelor and was willing to help out a priest from the temple.

We shared words about Rackhir, expressing concern for him now that he has the Mark upon himself. I am unsure if one as weak-willed as he can resist Chavram when even I had such difficulty. Prestwick nodded in agreement.

Just then, I remembered something else that occurred when Chavram invaded our camp.

"Oh! I almost forgot! Someone has tampered with the Mark! Chavram was most distressed by this, and wanted to know what I did to it. I do not know if it was any of my actions though. We must examine this more closely though, and see if I did affect it."

"Chavram wondered aloud if it wasn't some demon prince though...Fraz, someone or other."

Prestwick looked alarmed. "The Demon Prince of Deception? This is ill news. But what interest would
he have in this affair? I must consult our tomes, and see to learn more. At least we can take comfort that he is not in league with Chavram. But what is on about? You bring me little comfort and much vexing, young Dravot. I should be well and truly cross with you. Have some tea, nonetheless."

We drank our tea and spoke of more pleasant matters and then I bid him good day. I left the slagged remains of the brand with him for further examination.

I must go find Scorch now. If we delay our return trip, I may go find Brontal and have a brief chat with him. I am unsure if Prestwick will investigate as well, but I started this, it is my responsibility.


----------



## Zad

*From Valanthe's Journal*

*Valanthe’s Journal – Heart of Night Fang Spire, part 3*

Let the bones roll…


Some time after Scorch and Dravot take Kayleigh's body back to be
raised. Rackhir approaches me, obviously with something on his mind.

"Twice now, I have heard the sounds of giant dice rolling and you have done
things that shouldn't be possible for you. Once when you injured that Thing,
outside Nightfang spire with your dagger and a second time when the fear the
hounds induced in us was wiped away. What are you meddling in Valanthe? For
I know all too well such favors are not granted without price. I do not know
why no one else seems to have noticed this, perhaps they were too
preoccupied with Veralunda or Dravot's actions. But it has not escaped my
notice. I took no sides when Dravot imprisoned Veralunda and you threatened
him in return, because I knew there was no real danger of blood being spilt
and it did not involve me. While I am grateful for your actions that caused
the fear to be wiped away, when you did so, you involved me in what you were
doing and I do not take that lightly."

I had to bite my tongue before I said something unwise to him. I don’t know if it occurred to him how ironic he was. I only keep things between my self and whomever I chose to do business with. And for me that does not include Chavram. 

"While I understand your concern to some point, the business is between me and another. I have made only gambles and chances with my life and no one else's. Out of all of us in the group, I have the least to lose. And in fact had I not realized too late what was about to happen with Kayleigh, I would have been the one laying dead, not she. It pains me that I couldn't do anything, that I just had to listen to her die. At least Gelban was able to make arrangements to raise her, but dying has seem to put a damper on the Kayleigh we know. I hope that she shakes it off.”

“I will not go into detail more, for you may forget the fact that you have just eagerly jumped into bed with Chavram, a fact that troubles all of us in the group. And I do not know how I can say anything of importance near you lest Chavram hears all.”

“And I warn you, do not try to involve yourself in my personal affairs. You should know by now, upon seeing my actions, that I would easily take crazy chances or even offer my life for one of the group if it would help. But I do so on a personal level, and it is my business alone. I do not involve any of you, the payment when asked of me is made by me and me alone."

I turned to leave and left him to stew in his own thoughts. I have some “errands” to look into that require a bit of concentration so it’s best I’m not too angered or I might appear in the wrong place, and that would be bad…


----------



## Zad

*From Rackhir's Journal*

*Rackhir's Journal - Heart of Nightfang Spire Pt.1*

I understand that Aran'gel has said that I wield my bow like a hammer. Implying no doubt that my use of the bow is one of sheer brute force. If
that is so, it only demonstrates his ignorance of the craft of forging
weapons. For there are few things more subtle and skillful than a smith
wielding a hammer in the shaping of metal into weapons and armor. But the
elves have ever been prone to contempt for the achievements of other races.

In truth I find his comment to be ironic since, I achieve my feats with the
bow through nothing other than skill and practice, which grants me a
flexibility and range of abilities the vaunted elvish champions cannot
match. For it is magic from which they draw their ability to lay
enchantments on their arrows and that represents power, not skill in the use
of the bow.

Though, it is indeed a handy power to have and one which I envy, for
enchanted arrows cost dearly and persuading Scorch to lay such magics on my
arrows at the cost of one of his fireballs, can be like pulling teeth at
times. The lack of such an ability is an increasingly serious problem for me
for more and more creatures we encounter cannot be slain without such
arrows. I have a good solid Dwarven War Ax that can deal with such things if
necessary, but my effectiveness is greatly diminished when using it and I am
loath to do so unless given no other choice. The bow is what I have bent my
life to the use of and I intend to reap the full rewards of that investment.

While our last expedition to the Index of the Binders proved not very
profitable, Lord Gelban more than compensated for that. He does continue to
surprise me, for one who is both a merchant and a dragon, he is remarkably
un-stingy. I have known merchants who would cheat their own mother out of a
copper piece, never mind the legendary greed which is supposed to afflict
even the good dragons.

Twelve days after our return from the battle with the lesser Gulthias, we
set out for Nightfang Spire. Alas the time permitted us to stay in Greyhawk,
was far to short for me to finish the new bow I have been crafting out of
Nightscale's ribs. My current bow is an excellent weapon that has served me
far better than I could have expected, but I would prefer something with a
stronger pull. Also if I am to place my fate in the hands of a weapon I
would wish it to be one I have crafted with my own hands. Unfortunately,
crafting such a bow takes many long months of work, even for one as skilled
as I and with rushing from one crisis to another on different sides of the
continent, there has been little time to work on it. If I have my way it
will be a weapon of surpassing power when enchanted and thus I must be at
great pains to be sure it is of the highest quality.

I have also been doing some checking into procuring an exotic steed to
travel on. We have been traveling the length and breadth of the continent.
The road ahead is not likely to be an easy one and a mount as formidable as
Jozan's Crescent would be a substantial asset. The question is though should
I look for one with combat in mind or mobility and speed of travel.

We once again took the portal that the Dragons had constructed to the grove
where the Index of the Binders was located. While it was not our final
destination it did put us a substantial amount of the distance towards our
target. Though we would still be traveling a considerable distance through
Iuz's accursed lands. After several days travel, we spotted a considerable
amount of dust in the air ahead of us. Scant hours later, we were able to
determine it as the advance guard of an army.

To my surprise it was not one of Iuz's, but they marched under the banner
of Chavram, Dravot's Grandfather. They must have formed some kind of an
alliance, since I can not picture the Old One permitting such an army in his
territory otherwise and as powerful as an Animus is, Chavram could not be a
match for the Old One. Still hatred urged me to attack anyway, but a quick
check of my quivers told me that I would likely run out of arrows long
before the 30,000 strong army ran out of gnolls and ogres. Sometimes it
seems I am ever doomed to come near to the objects of my revenge without
being able deliver them to the fates they so richly deserve.

I do find myself somewhat disappointed that Ravenna has not chosen to
attack us yet. Given the frequency with which we've been assaulted by
Gulthias horrors, I had thought we would have encountered her at least once
so far. Perhaps her first death has taught her some caution or she is
seeking other means to pay me back. We do know that she is involved in
seeking the binders, but it is unclear exactly what her role in all of this
is. Her attacks on first the village and then on Aran'gel's men do not make
any sense in that context. I had thought her to be seeking plunder or to be
causing general chaos, but if she is acting at Iuz's behest in searching for
the Binders, why risk attracting the attention of one as powerful as
Aran'gel was? For she seemed to deliberately attract his attention. It is
possible she was used to clear Aran'gel out of the way and get him to chase
her, but did not fully engage him until reinforced by the Bebbilith. I am
suspect that she may also be an Animus, given the prevalence of them among
our enemies. If she is an animus, it would explain how she was able to drain
Aran'gel of his "mark", as an animus is a form of undead, frequently with
strange and unique powers. I shall have to question Scorch and Dravot more
closely as to how they may be destroyed, for as I understand things they are
impervious to most normal forms of harm.

To evade the army we took refuge in the nearby forest, however Kayleigh
failed to hide her self sufficiently well to evade the notice of the scouts
and they sent a few crossbow bolts her way. Fortunately nothing more than
that came of it, perhaps they chose not to waste time pursuing a lone elf
through the woods. It is amusing though that for all her elven pride she was
the only one to fail to escape notice in her native territory, something
even the citified Scorch was able to do successfully.

After a few hours traveling through the forest, we were set upon by some
wild elves who's territory we were passing through. Even less hospitable
than their more civilized cousins, they were reluctant to let us pass,
though Valenthe was able to persuade them to permit us to continue on our
way. Though we ate cold rations and shivered in the cold nights, as they
forbade us to light fires in their forests. The lack of hot meals not being
worth a running battle and ambushes when we have more pressing tasks.

Eventually, we emerged from the forest and resumed our trek to Nightfang
Spire. We passed through steadily deepening gorges till the walls of the
canyon stretched some thousand feet high. I was having unpleasant memories
of the goblin ambush as we passed through it, but nothing attacked us as we
did so. Eventually we reached our goal. Tall as Nightfang Spire was, it was
still dwarfed by the canyon walls, though far uglier. Whomever designed the
structure was clearly told to make it look menacing and evil and they took
to their task with a will.

One oddity that we noticed as we approached, was a small ramshackle hut
stuck up against the side. What it was doing there and why I don't know, but
we soon discovered that it was no accident. The sky had been darkening as we
conducted our preliminary scouting of the Spire, I curse myself for not
having noticed it earlier, especially given my history, but the reason had
not yet made its self known. Valenthe's sharp eyes noticed some silvery
vines around the base of the Spire as we circled the tower. It was some sort
of magical plant, which charmed it's victims into a trance and then ate
them. Initial attempts at manually clearing them away proved too slow and
risky, so I pulled out two of the blast arrows I had rigged from the
crystals and liquid we retrieved from the scarlet brotherhood boat. Having
proved too slow and clumsy for ready use in combat, I figured that wiping
out a sufficient section of the vines to permit us access to the Spire would
be a good use.

Shortly after I did that, the darkening skies revealed their source when a
blast of lightning struck Scorch. Dammed druids, should have known. Scorch
badly injured and living up to his name, we quickly fled for the cover of
the shack and discovered that we had not been the only ones to reach the
same conclusion, it was packed with bodies. No doubt those who had been
forced to seek shelter from the lightning and had fallen prey to the vines.
One was a Grugach, possibly from the tribe of wild elves we had encountered
earlier in our trip. The elf had some arrows clearly of great quality that
Kayleigh quickly determined to be magical as was the cloak the elf had.
After a brief argument between Scorch and Dravot (I didn't catch all of it,
but it had something to do with potions), Dravot healed nearly all of
Scorch's damage. That "nearly" almost proved fatal for Scorch.

Meanwhile Valenthe had gone to explore the tower trying to find a way in.
The lower "windows" proved to be nothing but recessed alcoves, the only
entrance was the spiked maw at the top. As she did so her extraordinarily
acute senses detected something. There was some kind of creature guarding
the entrance. Through the dragon scale link we could sense the crawling
revulsion the creature evoked in her. There was something unnatural about
the creature. We have faced demons, devils, dragons, undead and the living,
but this thing... was something else entirely, some sort of octipoid-winged
monstrosity. Even demons and the undead in a weird way are part of the
natural order, however horrible and perverted they may be, but this thing
was simply OTHER.

A few moments observation convinced her to move with extreme caution, the
monstrosity clearly had horribly acute senses. It was also casting spells on
it's self... Probably the source of the lightning then, not good. Nightscale
had nearly managed to kill us all, in large part due to it's spell casting
abilities and she was at best a low level mage. This thing was far larger
than even Nightscale and was casting spells much more powerful than she ever
had. After a quick discussion and examination of the shack we determined
that it would be unlikely to hold up under a sustained lightning attack and
decided to take our chances outside. Persuading Kayleigh to surrender the
elf's cloak I decided to sneak outside to see if I could prepare an ambush,
but despite the cloak's camouflaging properties and my own skills at hiding,
Valenthe told me I had been spotted the moment I stepped outside. Again not
good. Stealth was out, flight not an option given the narrow confines of the
canyon, that was left to us was a strong arm and courage.

We all scattered out of the shack and at that, the thing flew out from the
top of Nightfang Spire. I quickly snapped off a shot, but the arrow simply
bounced off it's hide, causing me to grimace and curse. Scorch had not seen
fit to enchant my arrows that day, deciding to use the spell for some other
purpose and I would have to depend on my limited stock of permanently
enchanted arrows. It was rapidly turning into bloody Nightscale all over
again, only worse. Kayleigh did little better, whether the sight of the
monster had shaken her or it was something else, she missed her shots. The
rest of the party prepared as they thought best, Scorch transformed himself
into an umber hulk, Jozan protected himself with a spell and Dravot laid a
blessing upon the group.

Drawing some of my precious magic arrows, I managed to land two arrows into
it, but the creature plummeted towards us at an incredible speed and they
did far less damage than usual as I had trouble tracking the creature while
it descended. Amazingly as the monstrosity dove towards us, Valenthe came
diving out of the sky, landing on top of the monster and plunging her sword
into it's back. She is one thoroughly crazy woman, Avalanche. Fortunately she
has the skills and talents to survive her stunts. Kayleigh seeing to her own
protection, used her sorcery to throw up a magical shield and everyone else
but Scorch simply waited for the monster's arrival. Scorch burrowed into the
ground, not a bad move on his part since this thing would tear him to pieces
if he ever came within tentacle's reach of it.

As the monster drew near the ground, Kayleigh scurried safely out of reach
and snapped off a shot. The rational thing to do, but I couldn't help
thinking of the previous battle against the Gulthian's when she was the first
to abandon the room almost before combat started. Since she's taken up with
Aran'gel, she does seem to have lost a certain spark or fire for combat. I'm
not sure she would charge through caltrops to jump a wall and strand herself
in the middle of goblin warriors anymore, as she did in the early days when
we had just been hired by Lord Gelban. Perhaps having someone to live for
has made her afraid to die. Only a fool dies without need, but it is a poor
warrior who lives in fear of death.

Now that the creature was hovering at point blank range I was able to land
three solid shots that wreaked fearful damage on it. Screaming in my mind
the monstrosity lashed out with it's tentacles, tearing my flesh and
crushing the breath from me as they wrapped round my body. By the gods it
was fearsomely strong. At that point I couldn't see much of what else was
going on, half convinced I was going to die I felt the rage boiling in my
blood that was my mother's only legacy to me. Fortunately in the
monstrosity's attempts to defend its self, the coils loosened enough that my
rage enabled me to break free of its grasp and I fell to the ground, and
managed to roll and come up on my feet.

Shortly after I fell to the ground Scorch burst out of it. Still in his
umber hulk form, he loosed a volley of magic missile that tore into the
creature. To his woe that attracted the attention of the monstrosity, which
lashed out with all of its tentacles, several landing crushing brutal blows,
followed by the tentacles constricting around his limp shattered body.

The damm fool mage, he hadn't put himself in that much peril since he
decided to go hand to hand with an orc warrior back in Drugeddon's Forge.
He's not much of one, but he's the closest thing I have to a friend among
these people. If nothing else he's the only one who's motivations I can
understand. I wouldn't trust him with if presented with a choice between
power and us, but at least I understand him well enough to know not to put
him in that position. Besides, I'm going to get an enchanted bow out of him,
one way or another and I can't collect if he's dead.

As I picked myself up and wondered how to stop this think in the scant
seconds before it reduced Scorch to a pulp, Kayleigh let loose with a volley
of arrows that tore into it. Following suit, I used some of the Arrows of
Terror, I had received from the Brazen. Though their fear effect would
probably be wasted against such a beast, they were the most powerfully
enchanted arrows I had and if Scorch had any prayer of living, I needed
every edge I could get in harming this thing. All of them landed solid hits,
but it seemed little affected though we had done enough damage to kill a
fair sized dragon. As our arrows hurtled through the air, I notice Dravot
ducking under the beast's flailing tentacles to touch Scorch and bring him
some healing. He wouldn't last more than a few seconds in this thing's
clutches but he was safe from dying for the moment.

Then something truly odd happened, things seemed to freeze for a moment and
you could almost hear the sounds of giant dice being rolled. Out of the
corner of my eye I could see Valenthe still on top of the monstrosity,
plunge her dagger into it's back. And it screamed in our heads, screamed in
agony the likes of which I have never heard. I know the dagger she carries,
it has certain useful enchantments and can be quite dangerous against the
proper creatures, but against something of this size and power, it should
have had about as much effect as a snowball against a giant. Some how she
had hurt it in a way she never should have been able to.

As it screamed the tentacles released Scorch and flailed wildly trying to
crush Valenthe the way they had crushed Scorch and I earlier, but it was to
little avail. She was simply too nimble for it and was able to quickly slip
out of it's grips. Taking heart, Kayleigh and I once again loosed a volley
from our bows in answer to it's screams.

Now there is a place that every good archer seeks, where the act of using
the bow ceases to be something one does and becomes something one is. A
place where there is no separation between the act and oneself, you become
the act of drawing the bow, notching the arrow, leading the target and
releasing the arrow. For a brief moment you become perfection. In our battle
with that monstrosity outside Nightfang Spire, I touched that place twice
briefly and my arrows gave testament to the results of doing so. At that
moment I felt as close to peace as I have since Ravenna betrayed me and
those last two arrows ripped through that thing like it was a paper practice
target, finally bringing it down.

Even as it crashed down upon the unfortunate Jozan and Dravot, it's dying curse rang in our minds. For we had defeated only Nightfang Spire's guardian, not its master who still awaited us within. Valenthe ever eager to stick her head in the noose, decided to explore the roof of the tower and quickly discovered the corpse of a black dragon that had smashed through the roof. No doubt it had perished in battle with that Thing we had faced outside. Meanwhile we were being ferried up one at a time by Scorch in his copper dragon form. He does seem entirely too enamored of his new shape changing spell, I wouldn't be surprised if one day he forgot what his original form was.

Fortunately, when Valenthe discovered some undead poking through a pile of coins on the ruined roof, she retained enough sense to wait for Dravot to arrive. Once we had all gathered on the roof of the tower, Dravot called upon the power of his god and blasted the wights into dust. He's good at his job, but one does wish he would spend less time haranguing us about the glories of Pelor. Dravot's god is not a very suitable deity for one such as I. Vengeance has too strong a hold on my heart for me to serve one such as he. Hexor or Erythnul would fit me better if they weren't given to such, crude brutality or pointless slaughter. Slaughtering the weak or the helpless is distasteful to me and there is no glory or honor to be had in such actions. It is only in pitting oneself against those who can threaten you on equal terms, that the warrior finds his purpose. For there is nothing so glorious as to face a superior foe and triumph through skill and valor, riding on the knife's edge between life and death. It often seems that my comrades in arms do not grasp this essential truth, though Scorch seems to understand something of it in his driving lust for power.

Initial obstacles now cleared, there was some debate among us as to the wisdom of proceeding. As severe as the damage that Thing... had inflicted on us, Dravot's magics had largely restored us to health and Scorch had not lasted long enough in our previous battle to use up many of his spells. So we pressed on. 

Valenthe as always lead the way into the tower. The battle between the dragon and that thing... had apparently ripped a hole in the roof which we used to gain entry. She initially sighted nothing and we commenced infiltrating into the tower. While the rest of us managed to enter silently, Dravot who is not noted for his grace and elegance managed to make enough noise to wake the dead. Who promptly attacked us as a result.

In moments we were surrounded as vampire spawn coalesced out of the mists that suddenly filled the rooms of the tower. Others came at us crawling along the ceiling like some demented cockroaches. Fortunately, they did not take us by surprise and we swung into action. Arrows sprang from mine and Kayleigh's bows, wreaking terrible damage on the spawn and forcing several back into their mist forms. Calling upon his god once again, Dravot attempted to destroy several of the spawn, but he achieved little else other than to force them to retreat. The tower was clearly protected against the energies he was channeling. At this point we had beaten off their initial rush and the remaining spawn had retreated to a nearby room. Preparing to assault the room, we split into two teams Scorch and I at one end where the wall had been crumbled and Kayleigh, Jozan and Dravot at the other. Scorch moved in to hurl a fireball into the room, which wreaked havoc on the spawn and shadow mastiffs they had summoned to aid them, it did not however kill all of them. More quickly than I could believe, one of the hounds came tearing out of the room charging straight for Scorch, even as the door blew out on the other side. Trailing fire and lunging for Scorch's throat, the shadow mastiff came up just short of ripping it out. I guess the gods didn't feel it was fair to nearly kill him twice in one day, as his mage armor had saved his neck almost literally. The bite of my arrows soon showed it the folly of exposing its self. The second group also moved into the room clearing the remaining shadow mastiff and vampire spawn.

Knowing we would have to destroy their resting places, lest the spawn continue to plague us. Dravot commenced his rituals to lay them permanently to rest. Unfortunately, he would accept no help save Jozan's, so the rest of us slouched around, jumping at shadows. Finally, hours later he finished his rituals and we cautiously proceeded into the next room. The stench of death hung heavy in that room, the floor was covered in bodies. We had stumbled into the food larder of the vampire spawn. I had not seen such a sight since Ravenna betrayed my family's castle to Iuz. To all of our surprise, there was one living being in that pile of corpses.

We had been told that there was a member of the silent brotherhood who was observing the Spire, but that contact had been lost with the observer several days before we left Greyhawk,. Somehow, she had survived weeks in captivity of the Vampire spawn, though she was very near death and would not survive much longer without the aid of magic to restore at least some of what she had lost. Having no immediate means of restoring her lost vitality, we decided to retreat to a location against the walls of the gorge. some two miles or so from the tower. Hopefully, far enough to discourage attack, though I had little hope that an even longer distance would suffice. There was little in the way of cover and less in the way of firewood. So Scorch summoned a fire elemental to melt a rock and provide some heat through the night.

That was about when the entertainment started. Dravot suddenly cast a spell, that imprisoned Verilunda. It had been obvious for sometime that Dravot was unhappy about Valenthe's shadow companion and that the mark his grandfather had placed upon him weighed heavily on his mind, but I didn't figure he'd do anything quite this stupid. Much as Valenthe had enjoyed teasing him, by flaunting her companion it was obvious she was no threat,. If Jozan couldn't detect any evil in her and someone like Valenthe had summoned her, she was unlikely to be a wolf in sheep's clothing. On the other hand, Verilunda had not earned her bones the way Meepo had. In the early days, I would have applauded anything that rid us of the little toe-rag. But at Drugeddon's forge, Meepo put his neck on the chopping block to try and rescue Scorch from the wolves, when he could easily have run away. One can ask no more of one's comrades in arms.

Needless to say Valenthe did not take to having her companion imprisoned very well. While Dravot debated hotly with Kayleigh about the merits of his actions, Valenthe acted. She disappeared into the shadows, reappearing behind Dravot with her knife in his back. I think it was at this point that it occurred to him that perhaps he had not chosen the wisest course of action. Having been on the receiving end of more than one dour lecture from him about morality and the light of Pelor, it was immensely gratifying to watch him put himself into an indefensible position. Unfortunately, as the entertainment was just getting rolling there was an interruption and self preservation trumped petty squabbleswhile everyone quickly readied themselves for battle.

We could hear a rhythmic ringing sound moving closer to us. Since our enemies were not typically in the habit of announcing their arrival, I figured that it was unlikely to be hostile. As the evening's entertainment had been ,canceled I decided to go greet our visitor. He turned out to be another of Dravot's order in the Church of Pelor, an even more dour and humorless one than Dravot. Fortunately, he decided to upbraid Dravot for his actions, rather than plague us with more preaching on the glories of Pelor. He had been sent by others of his church in Greyhawk who had been concerned over what he might do to rid himself of the mark, which tainted him with a touch of the undead. It was especially entertaining to watch the look on Dravot's face when Zara struck up a conversation with Verilunda after she initially surprised him. The look of shock as he watched a Shadowed of Pelor have a conversation with an undead Shadow was priceless.


----------



## Zad

*The Heart of Nightfang Spire - Chapter 5 and 6*

*Chapter 5 - Some people never learn*

Only with some good work, quick thinking, and luck did we not get turned into paste.

*OOC Notes:*

Experience this session is 3362 each. Loot proceeds are 2386 gp each, (this includes the deduction for the reduce scrolls and potions). The +2 bracers of armor are still to be dealt with.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

Scorch and Dravot arrived, also apparently invited for tea and we talked a bit while we waited to be shown in. Dravot of course had to fuss over my physical health. We discussed briefly the return to the Spire. I let them know that I was not ready to return, if I was to return, and requested them to wait another day. They both seemed to have tasks of their own to deal with and agreed to wait until the next day before debating a return. 

Scorch was curiously holding and clucking over a new pendant around his neck with a small, dull, rather common stone. I surmised it had something to do with membership in the guild – seems he bought his way in and was quite pleased. Dravot also handed over two scrolls to Scorch – arcane versions of two enhancement spells. Scorch was of course suspicious as to why. Dravot said that by Scorch having them, the group was the better for it. Scorch was not quite satisfied at that answer but it made perfect sense to Dravot, and to me.

The maid came and escorted us into the garden. There we found Ariadne, near a table made of natural unworked stone. There were piles of similar unworked rock that served as chairs, and the whole scene had a natural feel I found comforting. The table was set with fine china from Verbobonk with tea and assorted light refreshments. 

[OOC: At this point I had to wonder why you would call it “china” in a world where there was never a “china”. Perhaps they called it “Verbobonk” but found the name too clumsy.]

Ariadne was looking well, dressed in a white gown. She dismissed the maid, and locked the door to the garden behind her. Ariadne said “Father insists that I maintain appearances in front of the servants.” With that, she shifted her shape, producing small horns, and a set of wings from her back. Her skin had the golden shimmer of scales. After changing she seemed relieved, commenting that maintaining human form is some effort for her.

With that we sat and talked. Scorch, oddly enough, waited until both Ariadne and I were seated before sitting. A strange display of manners from him. This however was not a formal occasion and we served ourselves with little fuss. I took my saucer from my cup and placed some milk in it for Rasha, who welcomed the treat. 

Ariadne of course asked if I was well. She commented how difficult it can be after dying and it was clear from her statements that she had died and been raised herself. She was particularly concerned with the fear and said that it was difficult for her after coming back. For myself I did not so much consider it fear as perhaps despair, but she was close enough to strike a chord. 

She wanted to give me something, but insisted I not tell her father. He would be cross with her, if he learned. She handed me a small silken pouch. Inside was a silver chain with a bright blue gem. She said “This periapt will grant you bravery in combat and protect you from fear.” She said it was given to her after her return for the same purpose and it was of great help, but that she no longer needs it as much as she did. 

I thanked her for the gift, and for the thought behind it. I was concerned that she would put herself in a bad position with her father, but she smiled the smile only a daughter can, and said she could handle her father. He would just be a bit cross if he learned too soon. I told her I would be discreet and accepted the gift.

The rest of the tea passed quietly with idle conversation. Dravot and I had the good sense not to head into grizzly topics but Scorch had to get the eye once or twice to be reminded of what an appropriate topic was. Hardly surprising though. Rasha was generally well behaved, except wanting to slip off and chase the birds in the garden. I let him go since I’d kept him cooped up too long. I told him he could chase them but not actually hurt any of them, and let him go play.

After the tea, we finalized our arrangements between ourselves and went our separate ways. I returned to the moon tower, and got lost in my thoughts again. I was not looking forward to Aran’gel’s arrival – I hardly had enough time to adjust to this myself, and I had no idea how he would react. After a while, I fell back to sleep, with Rasha warm and purring on my lap. His concerns seemed to be easing which was good. Certainly my death, however temporary, couldn’t have been good on him either.

As I woke up, I was aware someone was already in the room. Whoever it was couldn’t have come in without Rasha noticing, and if they were dangerous, I’d already have known. I turned to see Aran’gel, sitting in a chair. Not moving, just watching me.

At this point, I wondered why I bothered trying to lock my door.

I had no idea what to say to him. All at once I was ashamed of myself for getting killed, ashamed of my empty words to him in his time of need (when I could not possibly have understood as I do now), ashamed as a student, and still feeling very lonely and afraid. I sat there, looking at him. And he stared back at me, nothing showing on his face. I had no idea if he was relieved or angry with me.

After some time in silence, I had enough, and spoke, trying to cover my fears. “Warden, do you make it a habit to slip into the rooms of sleeping ladies and watch them as they rest?”

He was about to answer that then stopped for a moment and thought. Then he said “Actually, yes a bit in my youth. But not as much any more.” Then he stopped again with that look of having said something he shouldn’t have.

I saw his sheepish look and suddenly started laughing. And he smiled as if it were the most wonderful thing he had ever heard.

After I stopped giggling he said “I was worried about you.” And saddened all I could answer with was “It seems you were right to be.” He asked if I was well, and when I said “I suppose I’m better than I was, and yet less than I was,” he just nodded.

“And!” I added with sudden memory “I had just figured out that cursed spell of yours, after weeks of working on it, thank you very much. But now the words won’t come and the magic won’t flow…”

And I slowly, by inches, lost myself. It started with a single tear and then a sob and then I was crying like a twenty year old. Before the first tear hit my blouse, he stood and had his arms around me. He more than most, didn’t just know what I was going through, but he understood. He may not have been dead, but he was near enough to it, and had the same loss for it. 

And he sat me back down, and I cried. 

And cried. And cried. He didn’t say a word, he just held me and let me sob into his shoulder. I had been trying to avoid this but I suppose I needed it. And while I would rather not have him see me like this, better him than most.

And after some time crying, I finally started to slow down. And still he just held me and let me feel safe.

Finally I sat back up, and got a handkerchief (not that I hadn’t cried plenty over his poor shirt). He looked at me and said “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

I thought about it and said “No. I’ve been repeating it to myself too much as it is. I can tell you this though – seems that I’m not a very good Champion after all.”

He gave me an unamused look. “I too made my mistakes, and paid for them dearly. And had I said that I was a poor champion, I know someone who would have taken me to task on it. And I’ll do no less here. Perhaps you made a mistake, as I did. Perhaps you were just unlucky. But you are here to tell the tale, and while you may be worse off for the experience, you are no less a Champion than you were before you sparked.”

“Pfft. I failed. There’s little more to it than that. I failed myself, my friends, my patron. I failed the Champions. I failed Celene. I failed my father. I failed you….”

And then I started crying all over again. And he held me again and let me cry.

After I sat up this time, I didn’t say a word. I had nothing else I could say, and I was worried I’d just start crying again. 

He said “Yes, you’re a failure. Just like I am. I failed the Champions, I failed Highfolk, I failed my men.” 

With a deep sigh, I gave him an exasperated look. We didn’t even need to follow the thread of that bit of logic. “Yes yes, I know. If you think I haven’t heard my own words to you over and over in my head, you’re quite mistaken. All the words I said to you after I rescued you are still quite clear to me, as is the irony of having them now apply to me.”

“Excellent! Then hopefully you won’t be wallowing in self pity as long as I was?”

I started smiling in spite of myself. “Oh no I should hope not. That would be wretched of me wouldn’t it?”

His reply came with a mock sneer “Very funny.” Which it was.

After a moment he asked “So what happens now?” 

I shrugged. “There isn’t much choice really. As I told you those weeks ago – either I can hide from life and the world, or I can go on. If I choose to hide, then I may nearly as well have remained dead, as I would still be lost to those who knew me. But saying it and doing it are different matters.”

He nodded, all too aware of it. I decided to take us a different direction “So how are matters in Highfolk?”

He proceeded to tell me of the small matters there, and I was glad to be distracted with something other than my own troubles. I ordered some dinner while we talked and we chatted this way for some time. 

I could tell he wanted to ask me more about the Spire, but did not. I think he was still worried for me, but not in a bad way. Actually it was sort of cute.

After dinner we shared a bottle of wine and continued to talk. He told me that his troops had discovered more saplings planted but now that they know what they are looking for, they have been very effective at finding and destroying them. I wonder what will happen to the gulthias horrors once Gulthias himself is destroyed… He also mentioned that a band of dwarves have moved north and, with permission, into the Glitterhame and are reconditioning it for active use. Apparently the Duregar have all left, as did the troglodytes. According to the dwarves, the orcs never returned.

Once the bottle was done and the fire dying, he said that he had to return this evening. Once he said it, it was apparent that he had already stayed with me longer than he should have. I didn’t realize until writing this that it never occurred to me to ask how he had gotten here so quickly, or how he was returning. We said our goodbyes and he went off into the night. I stood at the window watching the stars for a time after that. Only then did I realize I had never asked how he found out what had happened, or how he had gotten here so quickly. I went to bed and whether through the blessings of the Lady, or the blessings of the wine, I slept like a rock.

The good cry and the night’s rest had me feeling slightly better in the morning. The amulet from Ariadne also helped take much of the edge off my uneasiness, though I was careful to conceal it from Lord Gelban. The next morning Scorch and Dravot returned. I was dressed, prepared to return, if not exactly anxious. 

Lord Gelban had additional resources for us to help with the Spire: Four scrolls of lesser restoration, a wand of cure light wounds (21 charges), something in a small pouch for Valanthe, and 20 enchanted arrows to split between myself and Rackhir. [+2 arrows] Scorch had also acquired several reduce potions and scrolls, as per my request. I had convinced them that we needed a change of strategy on the Spire, and that these would be essential for a different entry.

The problem was that we had entered the spire the same way for three days straight. Gulthias may think we had left, but I wasn’t counting on that. Surely he would have fortified that entryway. Therefore I wanted to enter through some other means. Scorch could dimension door into the tower but the weight was restricted. Therefore the shrinking action was needed to move the entire party at once. Of course, we knew the tower would prevent dimension door into “The Core” but didn’t know where exactly that covered. Therefore we would take a chance and hope. Rackhir was grousing about being so small but he was easily the heaviest among us and therefore the first person that needed to be reduced. The reduction would only last a few minutes anyway so I failed to see the worry.

We teleported back to the ruined city without incident, and returned to the canyon. Rather than assault the tower in the morning, we waited til just after noon. Again, we had been too predictable, and the vampire spawn were hardly limited by the time of day in this dark place. With a prayer for luck, we shrank Valanthe, Rackhir and Dravot, and Scorch attempted to dimension door us back into the room where I met my death. Nothing prevented it and we arrived safely.

Perhaps “safely” is too strong a term though. We did land amidst four wailing spectres. That would not be considered “safe” by most standards. However we were expecting trouble and moved quickly. I fired at one but the arrow passed through it. Scorch fired his missiles, while Dravot destroyed two of them outright. Rackhir’s arrow found purchase in the same one Scorch and I fired at, and Jozan stepped up and destroyed it.

[End surprise round]

I fired at the single remaining spectre, with only one arrow finding him. He decided however that fighting was not wise, and fled through the wall. The party quickly focused on a nearby door to pursue him, and after Valanthe quickly scanned the door, Rackhir charged in. Unfortunately beyond the door was a pit trap. Rackhir tumbled down the pit, past several sharp razors, and emerged outside the Spire. Fortunately these were the chutes we had spotted and tied ropes across, and Rackhir managed to catch his still shrunken self on the rope before plummeting hundreds of feet. Scorch changed into a large bird and flew down the chute to retrieve him. 

I entered the room to watch for the returning spectre. However that was little worry. The spectre must have expected all of this, and emerged through the wall looking for Rackhir. Fortunately Scorch was able to grab Rackhir and bring him back up before the spectre could find them. But coming past the razors again injured Rackhir even further. The spectre pursued them up the chute into the waiting arms of the rest of the party, and we made short work of him.

We waited patiently while Valanthe disabled the trap, propping it open so we could perhaps re-enter the tower later this way (assuming nobody discovered our work). Then she carefully checked the doors in this hallway, expertly finding an electrical trap on one of them. 

One door was most disturbing, covered in grotesque carvings and inscribed in draconic “Oggunn Sathaar is interred here – only fools pass this threshold”. We held that one for last and checked the other rooms, finding only empty rooms covered in debris. One had an altar inscribed with a gulthias shape on it like the floor tile but we didn’t investigate further. One room turned up a rather interesting dagger – a white iron blade in a crystal hilt, inscribed with the words “Pale Piercer”. Based on experience, we surmised that it was a weapon that would be effected against partially ethereal creatures like the spectres.

This left only the crypt of Oggunun Sathaar. Deciding that we were indeed fools, we opened the door. Inside were walls covered in rotted tapestries, and a floor covered in cracked yellow tiles. In the back, a five foot diameter iron pipe stood from the floor, sealed in a metallic valve that was carved like the outer door. None of us were of a mind to open that pipe and explore what might be inside, and we left it be.

We proceeded to search the rest of the floor. We found a variety of empty rooms, one holding stairs to the next level. We found a large tapestry depicting a red dragon attacking a city on the plane of fire – it seemed valuable but it was too big to bother with now. Valanthe also dug out a gold ring (non magical) from one pile of funerary wrappings.

Since there was nothing more on this level, we moved downward. In the room the stairs emerged we found nothing, to our relief. We could detect evil to the left and right, several sources, as well as an undead presence ahead to the right. We elected to move to the left, and then we could press forward from there. This turned out to be the most important decision of the day, and one which could have easily cost us our lives if we had chosen otherwise.

The next room was certainly a stone carving room. Broken pieces of stone and half formed statues lay about the room. Stone dust covered the area, and a workbench with common tools was on the back wall. Not that any of this was what first drew your eye. 

The first thing one tended to notice would have been the two large, hairy, four-armed apes that were inside. Certainly they would notice you, as they did us. And they attacked, filling the doorway immediately.

Outside this chamber it was cramped and difficult to fight. However the room they were in was large and much better suited to our needs. Rackhir tried to charge into the room past them, and one of them bashed him for the effort, but Rackhir was now inside and had distracted them. I followed Rackhir’s lead and got myself into the room also, encouraging the rest to come too. Dravot cast a recitation while Scorch dropped a lightning bolt on one. Jozan attacked the injured one and killed it. The remaining beast bashed at Jozan and hurt him severly, but fortunately the first one was dead, and this one would soon follow.

Of course, that is unless his five friends show up. From behind the party, five more beasts came charging through the door. This was not good. The party began withdrawing into the stone room while Rackhir and I killed the one that remained inside with us. Dravot entered first, then Scorch. Valanthe and Jozan placed themselves on either side of the doorway to attack the beasts as they entered. As the first one entered, it ran right into Jozan and Valanthe’s blades, and was injured badly.

Rackhir finished that one off, while Dravot healed some of Rackhir’s fairly severe wounds. As another moved in, I fired three arrows into it, and it fell dead to.

The next one entered and smashed into Jozan. It nearly tore his arm out of the socket. How Jozan remained standing was a wonder. Scorch fired magic missiles into it, nearly killing it. Jozan started a swing that took him through the first one and into the next one stepping in. This one also tore at Jozan and hurt him even further.

Our killing pocket was working well but Jozan was at the point where one more attack could kill him. If we didn’t win soon, we wouldn’t be winning at all. Rackhir fired, and Dravot moved up and healed Jozan. This probably saved Jozan’s life. The one before us was larger, wearing a strange mask – we guessed later it was the alpha male. I fired and put one arrow in the chest, one in the throat, and one in the eye, and it fell over dead. 

This left one more beast who plowed into the room heedless of the bodies of his fallen fellows. But he had little chance and quickly met the fate of the others. We looked at each other in shock and terror, amazed we had all survived. Dravot saw to the groups wounds lest more of these things appear. These were the source of the evil we had detected and there seemed to be no more on this level, just the single undead element we were detecting.

While Dravot tended to people, we looked at the wreckage in this room, and the one the other beasts came from. We found various rotted furniture and tapestries there too. Hidden away was a dirty pile of gold (430gp) a set of eight blue quartz gems (10gp ea) an empty sack, and a potion bottle. Scorch said the potion was one of Aid. The bag turned out to be a rust colored bag of tricks. 

Once we had recovered our wits, we moved towards the undead presence. Inside a room were two huge metal cauldrons that filled much of the floor. The near one was empty but the far one had some type of swirling liquid that was the source of the undead aura. We weren’t sure if this was something like the seepage we had encountered upstairs. Dravot tried to turn it but the only effect was for something to rise out of the vat. It was some kind of hideous misshapen human, the flesh falling away from its body and a long probing tongue searching the air.

I stepped into the room and fired a shot. The beast moved up to the doorway with frightening speed. Jozan stepped up and let his full fury loose on this creature, and Shatterspike cut deep into it. Rackhir finished the job and the thing fell over dead. 

It seemed that the liquid was only tanning fluid and that this beast was the source of the undead Dravot detected. We looked with disgust at the preserved organs in jars lining the wall, but found little else here. Indeed this entire floor held nothing else of interest, and we then looked to the issue of moving even lower in this wretched place.

EDIT

Ok I screwed up reposting the story and lost a chapter or two. So I'll add in chapter 6 here

*Chapter 6*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience was 8130 each. Um, ok that’s staggering.

Wizardru can you give us an idea if we’ll have a long or short downtime after this run (assuming we live through it)? We’re going to have a LOT of issues to settle.


*Notes for Next Time:*

Apparently we’ve graduated from “minor annoyance”. At least we rate enough to send someone after us in the night. This raises all kinds of questions, such as “How did they know where we were?” and so on. But it also means that we might need to assume that he can find us at will. And that we might not have any more quiet nights, although I don’t think we ever really counted on those.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

We took a quick look at our resources remaining and decided to press on, though carefully. We came down the stairs and into a room layered with dust, but still having seen much traffic. Against one wall was a large statue of a dragon in red marble. There was one door leading out of the room, and beyond Valanthe could hear grunts and screeches of what we thought were more of the gorilla beasts. Soon though their tone changed and they had clearly heard us. We braced for the assault, and didn’t have to wait long. 

One beast smashed the door in and Jozan moved up to keep it from moving further in. Our hope was to create the same defensible position we had in the floor above. Scorch was unsure how many, beasts were lined up beyond the one we could see (it was so massive there was no seeing around it) but let a lightning bolt fly as our opening volley. Valanthe and Jozan both had taken small chunks out of this beast, and the lightning left it scarcely alive. 

[New round]
I used one arrow to finish off the creature, who dropped still in the doorway. That left me a clear line of fire to one behind it and I opened fire on him. From the other side of the doorway, the alpha male charged into our room. No dumb beast this – it clearly wanted to get among us and was trying to dodge past our front lines to do so. It suffered the attacks from Jozan and Valanthe and towered over Rackhir ready to strike. 

Rackhir was unfazed and let three easy arrows loose into the beast in front of him. The alpha felt the last one tear at his throat and also fell over dead. 

This opened up Scorch’s line of fire, and in this case it was literal. He dropped a fireball down the open path into the room. Two of the remaining beasts died and a third one was badly burned. Jozan stepped in and finished it, as much for mercy as anything.

[OOC Note: these guys had a plan. They were on all out defense and trying to get right amongst us, and it almost worked. However even on total defense they were still not too hard to hit, and we managed to get them killed before we were overrun.]

The room of course was a giant mess due to the fireball. There were melted tools and body parts of what were likely humans. Nothing of value really but this was some other kind of bizarre workshop. 

Out the door was a hallway and some doors. While Valanthe was scouting, some wights noticed her and burst out of one of the doors. We were surprised by this but shook it off quickly. I knew it was a useless effort but I fired at one wight and killed it before it. Rackhir maimed one, and Jozan killed another before the inevitable happened – Dravot had finally recovered his wits. He invoked Pelor’s light with enough force to turn the wights into nothing more than dust, and that was that. 

[OOC Note: Basically we were all just killing time, and wights, until Dravot’s initiative came around, and then we knew it was going to be over. And it was.]

The room they came from had more glass jars with body parts in it. The spire grows more macabre floor by floor. There was some gold hidden in one jar that Valanthe uncovered.

We were being very diligent with our detection of evil and undead – it had saved our lives in the floor above and we felt it would continue to be important. There was a significant source of non-undead evil in one room, and I could detect strong magic in that room, and beyond. Behind one of the hallway doors a voice cried out in draconic “Is someone there? Free me!” Valanthe chose to answer it “Why should we free you?”

The reply came “Trapped I am by the wretched Gulthias. For a long time he abandoned me. I can tell you things of Gulthias. Surely you crave knowledge. Free me and I shall tell you all.”

The door itself was enchanted but not nearly so strong as that which was beyond – some type of trap no doubt. Valanthe set off the trap and after a few minor preparations, we open the door.

Dust obscured the designs of the cracked purple mosaic tiles that covered the room. In the center was a magic circle containing a horribly gaunt humanoid thing with a head more like a vulture’s with spiked feathers on the back of it’s head, and hands twisted into claws.

It said “Ah…you have come to talk to Rhuanad.” It was clearly an outsider but Scorch was unsure what type.

Scorch converses with the beast for some time. It’s some kind of demon, imprisoned here by Gulthias many years ago – before Gulthias died. It claims that if we free it, it will tell us what it knows of Gulthias, and then return to the abyss. Naturally this claim is met with some skepticism. However some of us were convinced that it would do as it said, even though it was an evil and untrustworthy being. The actions seemed enough in its best interest that it would likely follow through. We had a long discussion about whether to release it via the scales. Of course Jozan and Dravot were not in favor of releasing this monster, however Dravot was more tentative than Jozan. I was against it. While it claimed to know a great deal, I did not believe it would tell us very much of value, and the risk for releasing it was far too high for such minimal gain. 

However the entire effort was soon rendered moot. Had we discussed it, and the majority felt the risk was worthwhile despite my objection, I would have acceded to that. But while we were still discussing it, Valanthe took it upon herself to release this evil thing. 

I was in complete shock that she would do this on her own. Here, not days before, I pressed her case, arguing with Dravot for taking actions on his own and violating the trust of the group. And now she turns and does the same thing, acting without consideration for any of us. Valanthe has become more erratic of late – she has generally been willing to take risks without consideration, but lately she is taking risks not just for herself but for all of us. And that does not sit well with me in the least. I was upset at Dravot for his breach of trust, and now Valanthe commits an even bigger breach of trust, and one that could have cost us all our lives. As I sit and write this, I’m more and more troubled by the direction that our group has taken. We have never been particularly close, but we had always in past chosen to work together rather than against each other. But that has changed. Rackhir has allied himself with Chavram out of his hatred for Iuz. Valanthe recklessly pursues whatever she wishes at any given moment. And Dravot’s spirit hangs in a crisis of its own. I’m hopeful that Dravot will find his way from the darkness that clings to his soul, but for the rest, I cannot say. I wonder if we will be able to function as a group any more after this cursed Spire, or if we can even hold ourselves together long enough to complete our task. 

In any case, I’ve resolved to hold myself out of any further exchanges between Valanthe and Verulinda, and Dravot. If Valanthe wishes to abandon support, then so be it. 

The good side of this was that the demon did as he said – he told us what he knew. Gulthias is a powerful wizard. They slew themselves in a mass ritual to join Ashardalon after his death. But Ashardalon’s heart, harvested from the body after Ashardalon’s death at the hands of Didd, was filled with necromantic power. It brought Gulthias and the other followers back, though even Gulthias did not know this would happen. Once the Spire was a temple to Ashardalon, but now it is a mass tomb. The heart is not sentient but it is power, including the power to bring back the undead after destruction. This explains Gulthias’ seemingly unending stockpile of undead horrors.

The center of the tower – the core – is protected, as we already knew. The heart lies within the core with Gulthias and his followers. To enter the core we will need the four parts of the dragon key. The four parts are hidden in the catacombs below us. (There is one more level below us, then the catacombs.) The other way into the core is via the Gazeway – the carvings of the tree we have found in various areas. It allows Gulthias to see and some creatures can pass to and from the core via these carvings, as we have seen. 

The catacombs also have the doorway leading to the core, and at the center will be Gulthias. 
The demon also asks if we have encountered Aeoket, and Redbone. Redbone was the chief of the cult’s questioners. He does not know what kind of unlife Redbone has been touched by. There is also Mister Stitches – one of Ashardalon’s children, or what’s left of it.

Gulthias can be killed in the usual ways for a vampire but proximity to the heart gives him extra power. Many here are connected to the black heart, and it gives them more power, including resistance to turning or faster regeneration. Proximity to the heart will be bad for us however. We should be able to destroy the heart through conventional means or a more powerful cleric than we have. (Dravot bristled at this but it was hardly unexpected for an artifact of that power.) We will need to destroy the heart before we can destroy Gulthias.

After telling us all this, the demon cackled, no doubt thinking of the taste of our flesh. But true to its word, it disappeared, presumably back to the plane from whence it came.

We all signed with relief at that – I don’t think any of us were entirely sure it would depart as promised, so seeing it leave without tearing into our flesh was a welcome thing indeed.

As soon as it was gone, Valanthe began reporting on what was in the next room nearby – apparently she had been looking well before the conversation was finished. The room contained three flesh golems, including one with wings and a dragon-like appearance. This must be the magic I sensed earlier and I was glad I had checked – sensing no evil or undead, we had thought the area clear.

As we were placing ourselves to deal with these creatures, they must have heard us and began stirring. I had put myself opposite the door in preparation, and Valanthe opened the door to the room. Across the room I could see the draconic golem that she had told us of – most likely Mister Stitches. I let three arrows fly into it, which all connected easily. These beasts were immune to most magic according to Scorch, but they were not exactly quick.

Scorch began summoning some kind of animal to help in the fight, and Dravot pulled a bear out of the bag of tricks and hurled it on the floor, blocking the doorway and everyone’s line of fire. After a year together, I would have thought we would have known better than this.

However it was Mister Stitches that solved that problem. It moved up towards the door and then inhaled deeply and belched fire through the doorway at us. Most of us ducked aside and were only slightly singed, but the bear was turned into little more than a cinder.

Poor Mister Stitches. That was not the best thing he could have done for himself. The death of the bear meant that Rackhir now had a clear line of fire, and matched my arrows in Stiches’ hide. I suspected that the beast could not take much more of this punishment. One of the other flesh golems charged into the room just then bulling past our defenders.

[OOC Note: next round. Poor Mister Stitches. From the moment that Valanthe opened the door and I saw him across the room, I knew Mister Stitches would be my bitch. After the pounding it got from Rackhir and me, there couldn’t be much life left in him. It will vary with buffs and what not, but on average, Rackhir will do about 50 points if he hits will all three arrows, which he usually will, and for me to do 45ish. Our group is artillery-based.]

Valanthe swung at Mister Stitches but missed. I didn’t want any more fire coming from that beast, and fired at him again – this time the arrows tore even harder into the twisted form, and the beast unraveled before us and fell into pieces. Jozan attacked the golem before him, and Shatterspike ripped into the weak flesh, and that golem too fell apart. Then the animal Scorch was summoning appeared inside the other room and attacked the flesh golem that had yet to emerge. It ignored the beast and came into the room where we waited. Valanthe tore at it, then Jozan, then a single arrow from my bow was enough to put an end to that one also.

The room the golems were in was clearly a golem making laboratory. Some of the workbenches were wrecked but others were clean and neat. Various bits of wire, cable, stitches, bones, belts, preserved arms and legs, and so on were scattered around, and a large slab was in the middle of the room. We took some of the wire and cable in case it should prove useful later. The only object of any interest was a book contained in a locked workbench. It had some instructions on golem making but was incomplete apparently.

Having cleared out this floor, we decided we’d had enough, and departed. This time we exited through the disabled chute trap and again returned to the shattered city to rest.

In the early morning hours, Dravot and Valanthe woke us up. Two spectres were coming. (“Just two?” I thought to myself.) Still I rolled out of my blanket and grabbed my bow and fired an arrow into one. Dravot destroyed them then and we waited, wondering what else was in the darkness.

I just caught the barest trace of some noise nearby and knew we were not alone. With a quick spell I tried to reveal the intruder with dust, but he was not there. Just then a set of claws ripped at Jozan, still unseen. The attack staggered him, and drained some of his life force.

[OOC Note: Whatever this was, it was very very stealthy and probably under improved invisibility. Kayleigh has a very good spot check and barely caught it. The attack on Jozan was a death attack probably from an assassin. He made his saves vs that and the poison so wasn’t too bad off.]

I began searching around for the source of the attack, and then it was black. Darkness covered the area, magical no doubt. I was debating a light spell when Scorch used his Daylight spell to counter it, and normal light returned. There was no sign of the attacker.

I’m sure this was our first visit from Redbone. And I’m just as sure it won’t be the last. But why did he leave?


----------



## Zad

*Heart of Nightfang Spire V – Dravot’s Journal*

[ooc: I pretty much overglossed events in the spire, as Dravot's point of view wouldn't differ that much from Kayleigh's and I'm lazy that way.  ]

We delayed our trip by a half a day in order to let Kayleigh meet with some people. Scorch and I were invited to a morning tea with Kayleigh and the Lady Ariadne. I find that I have spent way too much time in the field with my comrades; my sense of decorum is slipping and my mealtime manners were sadly lacking. I will make a greater effort in the future.

On the way to the tea, I stopped in at the wizard’s guild and picked up some new spells for Scorch. He greeted my gesture with great skepticism, which is hardly surprising. I told him that while I could cast these spells through divine grace, it would be handy for the group if he could cast them as well. This would spread out the workload a bit and allow us to use our resources in other ways. He seemed to accept this.

I was also able to pick up some useful books for my new library on the undead – five of them in all. Topics range from history of undead to facts about various types. I’m quite pleased at the new acquisitions, and I look forward to ferreting out new sources of information in the future.

After the tea, I went off to the Leadenhall Market to find Brontal’s shop. Through the dragon scale, Valanthe told me that she had heard through the grapevine that Brontal’s body showed up in the harbor a few days ago, but the condition of the body showed that he had been dead for some time. I inferred that he was dead before he ever made the brand for my arm. I find this deeply disturbing. I wondered what Prestwick would think when he learned of this turn of events, and whether he’d ever invite me to tea again.

I found the shop, but it was closed. A neighbor said that the guild, which owned the smithy had packed up and sold off Brontal’s belongings and sent the proceeds to his relatives in Verbobonk. I had hoped to find local family to express my condolences, but he had none in Greyhawk. I briefly considered going to the guildhall to find out about the disposition of Brontal’s body, but intuition told me that it would lead to a dead end.

Disheartened, I reported back to Gelban’s estate and we teleported back to the others. There we learned about the fantastic helm that the mummy Aotek had could teleport the user in the same fashion as Scorch’s spells. This explains how Valanthe was able to get information about Brontal for me…I had wondered, but she coyly declined to explain how.

We then headed back into the tower, encountering specters and evil, four armed gorilla creatures that hurt us pretty badly. With the blessings of Pelor, however, we prevailed. We then encountered a new form of undead that I had previously only heard of…a mohrg. We didn’t know what was in the room, just that something was in it, hiding in a vat of foul smelling liquid. I attempted to turn it, but my uncertainty must have been apparent, for all I did was draw it’s attention upon us. It was a fearsome creature, but we were in no mood for challenges from anything, alive or undead, and we dispatched it in seconds.


----------



## Zad

*Dravot’s Journal: Heart of Nightfang Spire VI*

Finally we are making progress in the Spire. We have found a rhythm and we are moving forward quite well, despite the horrors that Gulthias and the Spire have thrown at us.

Yesterday we encountered more of the foul girallons, wights, a demon, and 3 flesh golems - one of them half dragon! I find Valanthe's actions with the demon to be troubling however, and I told her as much during our watch together.

She was worried about how much time we were taking in deciding things, and she felt that he had answers we needed and that he would keep his part of the bargain. I asked her to tell me the next time she felt antsy like that, and that I’d do what I could to move things along in a way that would keep everyone happy.

Shortly thereafter we were alerted to spectres coming our way. We woke the others and prepared for them. I turned them with Pelor's will, destroying them utterly. I thought that would be it, but we sensed another presence in our midst. We tried to find it, and Kayleigh used a glitterdust arrow to find it, but we were unable to do so. It attacked Jozan, using poison and some sort of death attack while draining him of life essence at the same time. Jozan's will was strong though and he fought off the poison and the attack. I will take care of the draining shortly.

While I was praying and meditating for my spells for the day, I received a vision. For once it was not ominous and forboding. It has been a damp, chill morning, and the sun had not as of yet burned off the cloud cover and the dew. The familiar sounds of the camp rustling about surrounded me, as did the smells of breakfast.

I heard a young girl singing. As this was a ruined town, I was quite surprised. At that moment I realized that it was now bright and warm, and the sounds of the camp had vanished. I looked up and saw that the town was restored...the walls were strong and tall, the doors and shutters were in place, grass grew only in intended areas.

The only noise I could hear though, was the young girl's voice, though. It was as if the town were deserted, except for her and myself. I didn't see the girl, I figured that she must be around the corner. I did a quick sweep, searching for undead, and for evil, but found none. Somehow though, I felt comfortable and at ease.

Then the girl appeared. She was about 9 or 10 years old, and looked somewhat like my little sister, Stephania. I wondered how she was doing, and resolved to contact her and Thora at the next opportune moment. The girl was up on a wall surrounding a courtyard, dancing upon it as she sang, doing cartwheels and hand stands and the like. She had a grace and agility that reminded me of both Valanthe and Kayleigh at the same time.

The song she sang was quite pretty. I didn't know it. It was a ballad about a young lover wandering the forest searching for his sweetheart. I cleared my throat as a way of announcing my presence to the little girl. Unfortunately, I chose a poor time to do it, as she was starting a cartwheel, looked up, lost her balance and fell on the other side of the wall.

I was up and running across the road before she had a chance to cry out. Moving through the gate, I entered an inn courtyard, and I found the girl crumpled on the ground near the wall. She was clearly in pain, but was bearing it admirably. I introduced myself as a cleric of Pelor and asked if I could help her. She sniffled and nodded.

Her leg was broken. It was a clean break and would be easily fixed. I was about to cast a healing spell when I realized that I had no healing spells available. This was odd, as I had some left over from the day before in the Spire.

"I apologize, little one, for I have no healing majicks within me at the moment. I have my healing kit though, and I will set your leg and give you something to ease the pain, and then I will take you home. After that, I will be able to pray and receive the spells needed to help you." I cleared the hair from in front of her eyes. "What's your name?" I asked.

She sniffled again. "Michaela."

"That's a pretty name. I'm Dravot."

She bravely endured my ministrations as I put her leg back in place. The herbs I gave her to dull the pain helped, but her bravery was obvious.

"Where is your home? I will carry you there."

"Down the road near the creek. We live behind the temple of Pelor. My daddy is the grounds keeper." 

Her accent had a flat, nasal quality to it, and she pronounced Pelor as 'Payler'. I cautiously scooped her up and carried her out of the courtyard and told her of my little sister.

The town was deserted, except for the two of us. I felt like I should be alarmed, but I was not. After a few minutes, we approached a creek on the outskirts of town. A few hundred yards to the left was a temple of Pelor with a few buildings around it.

We went to the house where she said that she lived, but it was quiet and empty, like the rest of the town. At that moment, I heard singing coming from the temple. It was a familiar song, one that I learned as a novitiate, when we began to learn the healing arts.

We went into the temple. It was small, but tidy and cozy, and seemed appropriate for the town. A woman was praying before an altar. She wore vestments of the priesthood, but the style was unfamiliar to me. She looked up.

Michaela spoke. "Hi Belline!" I almost stumbled when I heard the name.

"Hello, Michaela. What happened to you?" She had a twinkle in her eye, as if she already knew what had happened.

"I fell. This is Dravot. He tried to heal me, but has no spells."

I introduced myself as I gently set Michaela down. "Greetings, sister. I am Dravot d'Chandagnac, from Brindinford. I was about to heal Michaela here when I discovered that I had no healing spells for the day. Can you help?"

She smiled. "I would be glad to. Were you on the walls again, little one?"

Michaela blushed, and then nodded. I waited for Belline to cast a spell, but instead she got up and went to an altar. Upon the altar was a wooden box, not real big. She opened up the box and took out a chalice. It was beautiful. I found myself spellbound by it. She poured some water into the cup.

I managed to find my voice. "Um...are you...the Belline?" The Belline I was thinking of was renowned within church history and lore as a healer of tremendous power. 

She smiled. "My name is Belline, yes. The Belline? I don't know. The name is fairly common in this area." She held the chalice in both hands and uttered a single word, 'auroraensis'.

At this point I knew she was being coy. "I always imagined you as being taller."

She smiled again. "Reputation always exceeds one's stature." She handed the chalice to Michaela, who drank down the contents. Within moments her leg was fine.

Belline dismissed her. "Now stay off the walls," she called as Michaela ran out of the temple.

With permission, I reached for the chalice and gazed upon it. It was made of some silver metal. Mithral at a guess. It had the sun of Pelor upon it, with nine rays eminating from the center. Three of the rays were red, three were blue and two were green. The last ray was also green, but dull and dark.

"This is beautiful. I've heard about it, but never seen it. There are a few of them within the church now. Named after you, you know."

"Aye. I am quite proud of it. It took quite a lot of work and investment of myself to make it."

Reluctantly I handed it back to her.

"Would you like one?" she then asked me?

I nearly fell off my seat. One does not just get a Chalice of Belline as a random gift, much less from Belline herself. "I, uh..."

She laughed. "I should have been clearer. Would you like to learn how to make one?"

I nodded. This made more sense. She got back up and went into another room. I expected her to come back with a tome or a scroll or something. She returned instead with a small pitcher of olive oil. She waved her hand over it and said a single word, 'mentasis'. She poured a drop upon her finger and touched it to my forehead. I steadied myself for a shock or a jolt, or to be knocked unconscious, as this is the way with such things. Instead I felt a warmth upon my head, which spread throughout my body. I pictured the chalice within my mind's eye, perfectly.

She saw my reaction and giggled. "Not all transfer magic is painful. You are not yet strong enough to make such an item, but that time is not far off. I have given you the ability to make other items as well. You will need to give up some of your life essence in order to make it. These are powerful majicks, and they come with a price. I know that you will use them wisely."

I wanted to stay and talk with her, but I knew that my time with her was over, and that I had to go. Next thing I knew, I was back in camp, with the rest of my companions, in the desolate ruins of the town.

I told everyone that I'd be back in a bit, and headed down the now familiar streets of the town. At the end of the road was a creek, and a few hundred yards to the left, was the remnants of some buildings.

I went inside the temple building. The dust in the place was fairly thick and undisturbed for centuries. I said a quick prayer and moved up to the altar. The basic layout was the same as in my vision. Upon the altar I found a small, wooden box bearing the symbol of Pelor. Though the altar was covered in dust and debris, but box was clean. It was the box that the chalice was in, from my vision. I opened it to find that it was empty. It was only when I closed it that I saw the symbol of House d'Chandagnac in the lower right hand corner, and the symbol of Belline in the upper right.

I put the box into my pack and reviewed the plans for the chalice as I headed back to others.

I must stop here. We have a busy day today.


*Originally posted by Wizardru*

Slowly, the cylinder rotated. It was a thing of dark brass and red iron. The curious device's surface was covered with inter-connected layers of metal, hinged and bolted, worked with strange, intricate designs. Clockwork gears could be heard from inside it, turning, turning, turning...

As it rotated, held aloft by some force unseen, the small window that showed it's inhabitant could be seen. Her soft face looked as if sleeping, so peaceful was her expression. Her raven black hair fell about her, some of it held taught in machinery, with little traces of some unknown energy racing up and down. Her eyes were closed. 

"It vexes me, you know," came the voice. The pale servants said nothing, as was their way. They might pass for elves, in a poor light, at a distance. If one missed their too-sharp features, perhaps, or their ritual tatooing, or their flint-like skin...but few ever lived that long to see. They were used to the voice, and kept their counsel.

"She should be screaming. Terrified. Something. And yet...she remains calm. Silent. Mocking. It vexes me." The voice stated this periodically. It was of no moment to the servants. There would be more of the human cattle to slaughter soon, or press into work. They knew little of the way of stone or of the crafting. Let the machine have them.

The cylinder rotated, again offering a view of the woman. A series of clangs, clicks and whirrs indicated the arrival of the Cuckoo. It began to play a series of pipes, creating an otherworldly music. The servants listened attentively. The strange song lasted several minutes, changing pitch and pace more than once. When the room fell silent, the voice returned.

"So, this Chavram seeks to place himself in my way, does he? He will find I am not unprepared for such an eventuality. Prepare the cylinder for movement, and dispatch a shul'kar to the Gate of Gears. I will need to travel to Mechanus to enlist....reinforcements. I have made arrangements."

"I went to a great deal of trouble to secure my work...I won't see it jeapordized at this late stage. Double the work shifts for next twelve hours...I want more units produced. Preparation....it all comes down to preparation."

The voice lapsed into silence once more. The pale servants knew their roles, and departed. The Cuckoo remained, but it began to sing a different song, much deeper and more somber, like a funeral dirge.

The voice merely laughed.
--------------------------------------

Just a brief background on Ralishaz...
Ralishaz (Chaotic Neutral)

The Unlooked For, lesser power of chance, ill-luck, and unexpected misfortunes is also the patron Power of gamblers and those who take unusual risks. Most often, Ralishaz will not reward the latter, but if he does, the rewards may be great indeed.

Victims of misfortune may try to placate Ralishaz; gamblers invoke him; those in peril beseech him; those planning speculative, high-risk adventures will make offerings to him.

Most suspect that Ralishaz originated with the Flannae pantheon, but no
group of people wishes to acknowledge kinship with him. He is recognized, if
not worshipped, in most civilized areas, and frequently invoked as a ward
against ill-fortune.


----------



## Zad

*The Heart of Nightfang Spire - Chapter 8*

Still pasting in the missing stuff

*Chapter 7*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience this session is 3842 for everyone except Jozan who got caught by work and missed the on time bonus so he’s at 3362.

*Notes for Next Time:*

Two key parts down, two to go. So far we’re doing ok and the only resource we’re short on is restorations. Two things on my mind:

First, we need to get more flight in the party. NFS has been a mobility challenge. Long term issue I know but just something in my head.

Second, we need to come up with some schemes for that assassin. My mind is already working on it. However I don’t think we’ll see many hit-and-runs like this. She was clearly buffed – I’m seeing improved invisibility, and at this point I’m pretty sure a haste was involved too. Having a dispel magic on hand will probably be a good idea.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

After debating some of the different ways we could re-enter the spire, we elected to use the dimension door again, although the notion of digging into the catacombs was not without merits. We cast several spells and then appeared within the golem laboratory.

The first thing we noticed was that it had been cleaned and evacuated – all of the jars with body parts had been removed. Given the delicate nature of some of the jars, it was probably not more apes. Why Gulthias would be having his minions cleaning up is beyond me.

We moved towards the stairs, which required going into a room with a gazeway. Even though we were prepared for trouble, the crackling sound still caught us off guard. In an instant, the gazeway flashed and crackled, and the same set of claws ripped at Jozan. 

Determined not to let our attacker escape again, I set more glitter into the air. The dust settled and clearly revealed our no-longer-unseen assailant. From the way the head twisted, I suspect the dust had blinded him as well. This beast may be stealthy, but at least I could react quicker.

[OOC Note: Ok, Kayleigh isn’t much of a sorcerer, and the save was pretty low to avoid being blinded. But anyone can roll a 1, and Redbone did. I think it was about now that Wizardru pointed out that Redbone was a “she” mostly because the fact that we kept calling it a “he” was bugging him.]

Unfortunately Redbone was still quite quick. She must have realized that she was no longer in a good position, and she managed to find her way back to the gazeway and disappear before anyone else could act. This annoyed me to no end. After thinking a while on this, I suspect that not only was she under improved invisibility, but also haste. I believe these spells came from Gulthias himself since we now know him to be a wizard.

We descended to the next level, and our scans revealed some undead and evil in the area, including some fairly large sources of evil. We took time to spike the door shut, so that Redbone would not be following us easily.

The next room had the floor covered in urns of various small sizes. There was a narrow path between the three doors in the room, but the rest of the floor was covered with urns. Many had tipped over spilling dust on the floor. The room beyond that had nearly the same contents – more crematory remains. The other door led to a similar room, but the difference here was another gazeway on the ceiling 40 feet up.

We were always leery of the gazeways but now that we understood them better, we wanted to try to do something about them. Valanthe was prepared to try to use acid to destroy one but this one on the ceiling would make that difficult. I had a different idea however….

I cast a simple illusion. It was hardly anything notable – just the same floor covered in urns and dust. But it was eight feet higher than the actual floor, which allowed us to pass underneath unseen. I believed it would be unlikely that anyone watching would notice the difference unless they were watching when I first cast the spell. We slipped quietly through this room, hopefully undetected by the gazeway.

[OOC Note: Wizardru was rather amused by this application, and by this way of evading the gazeway.]

In the next room we found five zombies, cleaning up the urns. A rather odd task for the living dead indeed. Given their limited intelligence, I speculated as to whether they would even be aggressive, but it was hardly important. We dispatched them with little thought and moved on. Not wanting to be followed by something coming through the gazeway, I took the time to pile a few urns carefully before the door – that way anything opening the door would knock over the urns and cause quite a stir. 

The next room contained something evil, and Jozan booted the door in. Again, a seemingly endless supply of funeral urns covered the room. In this case they were piled along the edges of the room. Inside were one gorilla, and some zombies. However I noticed that one zombie was rather different, and was in fact another beast like the one we found in the cauldron. (Dravot called it a mohrg – some kind of serial killer it seems.)

They were unprepared for us, and we took full advantage. Valanthe cut at the ape, and Jozan moved into engage it. I had a line to the mohrg and put an arrow into it, and Rackhir fired an arrow into the ape’s leg, causing it to fall back a few feet. Dravot, with a rather absent wave, destroyed the zombies. Valanthe then cut at the ape again, causing his vitals to spill out his abdomen. The mohrg clawed at Jozan briefly, and in return had a brief meeting with Shatterspike. It wasn’t looking at all well after that and I put a few arrows into it to finish the job. A few more urns by the door and we pressed deeper.

Beyond this room was a corridor that led to a set of double doors. We carefully opened them and saw a huge, crescent shaped room beyond. Inside was a forty foot high pillar of fire reaching the ceiling. There was an abstract mosaic pattern covering the room in purple tiles but it was charred and obscured in many places. There was a foot of ash on the floor, making us think this was the crematorium.

Now, we’re a suspicious lot it seems – something that has served us well. We were all somewhat hesitant to enter the room, and suspicious of the fire. The thing that worried us was that the ceiling was charred in several places, not just over the depression where the fire now was. That made us think it could move, and that was worrisome to say the least.

If it was a magical fire, then it would be magical, and evocation at that. But if it were some kind of elemental, then it might show rather differently to a detect magic. I cast detect magic and the fire was not magical. That settled it – it was some kind of elemental. 

Scorch happened to speak Ignan – for what purpose I can only guess. He hailed the elemental and it responded, forming two firey eyes. The conversation was brief but fruitful – this was another creature bound here centuries ago by Gulthias. Its orders were to kill us when we entered the room. Since we had not yet entered and it had no orders against talking to us, we were fine so far. It had to follow the orders it was given, but like the Vrock, it craved release also. Scorch attempted to dispel the anchor that held it on this plane but it was too strong for the fairly weak scroll to overcome. We told the elemental that we would return later better prepared to return it home, and closed the doors.

The only doors were on the other side of the fire elemental. Valanthe expressed interest in trying to slip past the elemental and explore beyond them but we all did our best to tell her what a suicidal thing that would be. Even so, she didn’t seem convinced, but she didn’t try it. Instead Scorch shifted to an umber hulk and tore out the wall next to the doors, letting us into the next chamber.

[OOC: this is what we are calling the “Dig Dug” approach. Only problem is that it needs quarters.]

Inside was a ten foot diameter hole with large sturdy iron rungs forming a ladder going down. The rungs were of such a size that we suspected they were for the girallons. The pit descended quite a ways into the darkness – some hundreds of feet. At the bottom was a small room, and another gazeway. The placement of this carving made it very unlikely we could pass undetected as we had last time. So rather than be subtle, I tried for something confusing. I created the illusion of the fire elemental descending the hole and burning on top of the gazeway. Not only would it block vision, but anything that would try to come through would be burned by the elemental, or so I hoped they’d think. Of course there was no sound, but we had no idea what the gazeway would transmit, so it seemed like a reasonable thing, and had more flair than a simple stone wall. It might also cause Gulthias to wonder how we turned the elemental to our cause.

Out the only break in the walls was a small ledge and a vast pit beyond, teeming with skeletons and zombies. While we had some spells to destroy large areas, it seemed an unproductive use them. In the distance Valanthe could make out a pillar with a statue.

Valanthe began moving about the ceiling with the aid of her magic boots. The pillar in the center had a statue, and the statue had what we thought was a piece of the dragon key. Valanthe was able to discern a smell about the thing, and was convinced there was a trap on it. However though skill or luck, she found the way to disengage it, and retrieved the key piece. 

Farther across was another ledge leading to another room. There were two mohrgs there among some ruined sarcophagi. Valanthe could make out some of their conversation, and they seemed to be hoping we would soon trigger the statue, and then they would deal with us. One mohrg drew attention to a necklace he was wearing which any seasoned adventurer knew to be a necklace of fireballs.

Fortunately Scorch had another dimension door, and he moved himself across with Jozan and Rackhir, believing that the four of them could dispatch the two beasts. There were only two problems with this plan – the first is that it left Dravot and myself alone and quite a ways from the rest. The second became apparent when the others landed and attacked – there were three more mohrgs in the coffins.

There was a bit of shouting, and at one point a fireball went off, though from who I couldn’t say. But after a few seconds, the others said it the situation was under control, and Scorch came back as a dragon to ferry Dravot over. Rather than leave one of us alone, we used a scroll of spider climb and I joined the others that way. 

The mohrgs had some interesting trinkets among their pile of debris. There was indeed a necklace of fireballs, and one mohrg had a ring that was probably some kind of fire resistance. There was also a pile of platinum pieces, a rather nice silver comb with moonstones, and a few other trinkets.

[OOC: 212pp, silver comb 550gp, jovial brass mug with jade inlay 350gp, chest of mahogany and inlaid with amethyst, 1400gp, and a chalice of crystal with emeralds, 700gp. Red ring, and type 4 necklace, missing one 6d6 fireball]

Personally I thought the comb was rather beautiful (or would be, after it was cleaned off). Perhaps I’ll see if I can keep it.

There was a door leading from this area and it led to a room with several other doors – an intersection of some kind. There was also a small closet in the room, that was notably completely free of dust. Valanthe had a hunch and tossed a coin inside, and it disappeared – some type of teleportation magic. We decided to investigate later.

One room had a source of evil beyond, and a very elaborate lock. This was the most intricate lock Valanthe had ever seen and it took her some time, and a fair bit of acid, to overcome it. Inside was another dragon statue with a key part in its mouth.

Of course, it wasn’t a statue – it was a gargoyle. It didn’t attack and likely wouldn’t until we entered the room. So we shrugged at each other and entered the room and attacked it. After we hacked it apart, we retrieved the key part and moved on.

One other empty room had a few sarcophagi with some minor coin [400sp blech and 2 gems at 10gp each].

There was one other door of note, mostly because there was a significant source of evil beyond it. And that is what we would face next.

*Posted by Wizardru*

As he decapitated Ahrlykikka, The Thezzizz of the Waking Dream wept openly. His beloved had defied the queen...and that tree bore only one kind of fruit. It was a minor infraction, so the penalty was merely death, and the queen had been gracious to allow him to slay his lady-wife personally. He had seen far worse fates befall others.
For several moments, he stared at the rapidly cooling corpse, watching her life light begin to fade, hearing her thought-voice stilled for all time. There was no death beyond life here...all knew this as law. Even if were possible, the queen would never allow it. Only one deserved life without ending, and it was she. Praise be the Queen, save us from her Mercy. 

As was his right, he collected her Saduveem Crystals that had fallen to the ground about her. Most of these he smashed in the standard Vuuuum ritual, but three he retained from himself. Among these, he knew, was the Omnipitex...the one he should most certainly destroy. If the other members of his Ahmna'imha noticed this, they either chose not to speak or did not care. It was all the same to the Thezzizz. He tapped the ground three times to signal the end of the ritual. Tap. For their Freedom from the Oppressors. TAp. For the defeat of the Betrayers. TAP. For the eternity of the Queen. With the final tap, Ahrlykikka's echo faded from him and all life left her form.

As her form began to float upwards into the strangeways, it began to lose it's cohesiveness. Like a thing of smoke or liquid, it began to flow in different directions, affected by currents only the mind could perceive. As she floated higher and higher, she seemed to grow more difuse, until she was gone.

The Thezzizz looked at his Ahmna'imha. Their stony, gaunt expressions betrayed little, but he knew them well. The anger they bore was not for the queen, nor for his lost wife, nor even for the Omnipitex....it was for the disruption that would come. For the threat that must be stopped, lest the whole of the Unlent City be destroyed. They would wait, and they would fight.

Gripping the Omipitex in his chalk-white hand, the Thezzizz flowed his spirit into it. His eyes burned, and his soul felt as if someone had poured lava onto it. He was unaware if his scream was a real thing, or just a product of his mind. In the end, it didn't matter. Pain was just a tool, like everything else.

Unbidden, the images came to him...the images that led to his beloved's death. The images the queen would not heed. The images he would DESTROY.

_A Chalice, gold as the sun, but filled with Shadows.

A Sword, forming the horizon, with the sun setting above, and the moon rising below.

A Bow, made of bone, that spit and burned.

A Crystal, that burned as if on fire, but could not be consumed.

A Dagger, pale like a ghost and yet engulfed in shadow.

Another Bow, made of wood and of glass, that glowed as if afire._

These were the enemy. They would come, in a day, in a year, in a century. It mattered little to the Thezzizz. He would wait, his sons would wait, and their sons after them, if need be. They would wait until the Saduveem Crystals all went black, if that is what it took. If his people had learned one thing during their oppression at the hands of the Illithid...it was patience.

---------------------------------------

Jozan blinked and rubbed his eyes. Another troubling dream. The third in as many nights. This one seemed easier to recall than the previous two. His Lady was sending him...what? Messages? Warnings? 

He could not say. But he would understand them in time. It seems that his future held more strife, not less.

But he knew that on the day he swore his sword and his life. This was no different. Realizing it was time to return to the watch, he stretched and rose.

Another day had begun.

--------------------




*Chapter 8*

Dravot's post above relates to Chapter 8 - might want to read it first for context.

*OOC Notes:*

Experience this session is 2425 each, except for Dravot. 

After careful consideration and thorough reflection, I have come to the conclusion that The Heart of Nightfang Spire sucks the left nut, pardon my French. Bruce Cordell will surely have to do pennance for this.


*This Week’s Adventure:*
Nightfang Spire. I can hardly say the name without spitting afterward. Foul. Wretched. Evil. Cursed. When I speak of the place, I’ve started doing so in Elven – the common tongue simply does not permit the proper expression of my contempt.

First things first.

We could feel several key sources of evil nearby, and braced ourselves for a battle. Little did we know how much of a battle it would be. We could make out the grunts of more girallons, but surely that would not be all. After Valanthe scanned the door, Jozan kicked it in.

We found an empty room with an opening to another room to the left. The occupants were all in the next chamber apparently, and we used concluded to wait where we were for them. I took a moment to throw up a shield, and others took similar steps. 

Soon enough, apes started entering the chamber, and with them two mohrgs. Just as the battle was commencing, something came through the wall behind us – a hideous woman with skin the color of a purple bruise and draped with various pieces of hideous jewelry. She faded in from the ethereal plane, and threw a fast ray of enfeeblement at Rackhir, which he fortunately shrugged off. Then Scorch decided that perhaps we needed a bit of a boost and broke out, with no small cackle I might add, his newest trick – mass haste. It was rather exhilarating. I think without it we would all have surely died.

Rackhir turned on the creature, and with the added speed of the haste, filled her with steel and wood. She never actually hit the ground, dispersing into the ether before she landed. As the mohrgs and apes came from the front, we could hear pounding at the nearby walls – more apes were trying to break through and surround us. All we could do is work fast and pray.

Dravot attempted to turn one of the mohrgs just to get it out of the way, but it had no effect. I had a massive ape in front of me but I felt confident between my shield and the speed of the haste that it would have trouble laying its dirty paws on me, and opened fire, easily dodging the counterattack. Jozan and Valanthe had already slashed at it as it had entered, and I was able to kill it, and still have an arrow left for the mohrg. 

Another ape appeared out of the ether – perhaps another polymorphed hag? This was quickly confirmed as another ray of enfeeblement struck at Rackhir, and again he shrugged off the effect. 

Determined to pass the doorway, one of the apes charged Jozan to drive him back from the door, but Jozan out muscled the beast that was easily twice his size and drove IT back. Then another ape rushed at him, but still Jozan would not yield, and he held off that beast as well. Surely Sehanine was with him this day.

Unfortunately the walls were not as strong, and they collapsed in two places as the apes burst through, along with another mohrg from the front. Valanthe finished off the injured one and started on the new arrival. But we are still mobbed on all sides by the massive four armed apes.

Rackhir set to work, and filled the ape in front of him with arrows, and the ape could only return pained screams. Dravot energized his Sunhammer and smote the mohrg, tearing a massive section of its chest out – the thing was barely standing after that massive blow.

I decided the other hag was more the worry, and fired at her, but the first arrow had no effect on her. Rackhir was using arrows enchanted by Scorch, but my own rounds were not quite as powerful yet. Having no easy recourse, I instead killed the nearly-dead mohrg and then started on another ape. Scorch had no shortage of targets but his lightning bolt met with an unusual end – it hit the hag, and simply fizzled there, harming no one.

More apes came into the area. Valanthe set into one, nearly spilling all its guts on the floor. Rackhir tried to finish that ape but the arrow didn’t land deep enough. However he knew he was our best hope against the hag, and so moved to shoot at her. His bow didn’t let him down, and he sent that one back to the ether as well.

We had several injured enemies, and I decided it was time to lower the numbers. I finished one ape, then killed another, then started on a third. The haste was an enormous advantage for us. Jozan rushed one ape and killed it and then tore into another, easily avoiding its clumsy attacks.

The tide had turned, and what started as a massive crush of arms and teeth was now only a pile of corpses with the stench of dung and blood. We were all stunned and just stared at each other, amazed we had survived this onslaught.

[OOC: It was a fantastic battle, and it really looked bad for a while. That mass haste was everything though.]

We explored the general area. There were several more dead apes – odd since we had not killed these. There was some sort of fight here within the last week. Also there was a chest loaded with platinum and gems. While the pile was not large, the value was immense. The hags also had two magical rings.

Some of the apes had crude leather armor on them. This was most odd since the apes had not yet shown any signs of being capable of fashioning even this crude armor. 

The next area was some kind of torture chamber but also had straw pallets that the apes likely used. Another hidden chest contained even more platinum and some star rubies. We also found a single coin on the floor. This was the coin that Valanthe used to test that the closet we found earlier was indeed a teleporter. However it seemed a horribly short distance to bother with a teleportation enchantment. Valanthe stepped into the alcove in front of where the coin landed, figuring that it lead back to the other room.

It did not. 

Apparently it was a circuit covering a few areas of the tower. She was in a dark, empty room with a door. She stepped into the alcove again, and was moved to another location, and then again back to the room we found before. We were fortunate that she was able to return without incident. The move was impulsive, and quite unnecessary.

We continued to carefully explore the area. Another room had a large statue over a dried up fountain. The base was inscribed “Shatter the bonds of time until Ashardalon returns” and radiated transmutation magic. We figured there was little to gain in experimentation, and much to loose, and so we left it alone. 

Another small room contained a stone sarcophagi, and a rather unfortunate gas trap. Valanthe did not detect it in time, and while Dravot and Jozan avoided the gas, Valanthe inhaled a great deal of it. It very nearly killed her, but an antidote poison restored much of her health, though she was still weakened.

The next room was tiled in onyx and white tiles though many were cracked and ruined. There were relief sculptures of humanoid faces, aflame with their mouths open in screams of agony. A sculpture of a dragon hung from the ceiling over an altar on which subtle runes were inscribed.

There was no evil but there was transmutation magic on this altar. The door leading from this room seems to have been replaced more than once, making us wonder what happened here.

The runes were in Draconic of course, which Valanthe cannot read. I stepped up to look at them, and was compelled to read them aloud. Dravot, also nearby, upon hearing me speak these ill fated words, was also compelled to read them. 

“What surpasses Ashardalong, is more despicable than the Great Wurm; the poor have it, the rich need it, if eaten, death follows.”

None of us had any brilliant insights into what this meant. An answer tickled at the back of some of our minds but nothing came. Rather than risk remaining, we carefully withdrew.

The statue took that as our answer, and yellow beams erupted from its eyes, lancing at Dravot and myself. The searing beams burned me, but I’d gladly suffer that again to prevent what happened to Dravot.

He was dead.

I was angry. Very angry. I shouted in elven “I have had enough of this foul place!”

Scorch immediately contacted Lord Gelban, while we made a quick plan. I would return to Greyhawk with Dravot, returning the escort he did for me. The rest of the group would withdraw from the spire, and move the camp to prevent another attack by Redbone.

Thanks to the helm of teleportation, I arrived in my room in the moon tower carrying Dravot. I had not even gotten downstairs with him before the servants took him from me and put him on a litter. Lord Gelban was on hand and handed me a small bag containing many rubies, as an offering to the temple. Dravot was one of their own – they would have restored his life regardless, but Lord Gelban felt it necessary to obey the forms.

I took the bag and the servants accompanied me to the Temple of Pelor, where preparations were already underway. The acolytes took Dravot’s body from the servants, whom I then dismissed. I offered the gems to the priest, as per Lord Gelban’s instructions. He took them with some disdain – I had the impression it was not directed at me but rather the source of the offering. Clearly it wasn’t all that bad as he took them anyway.

The next hour passed in a blur, and soon, breath returned to Dravot’s lungs once more. He seemed to have an easier transition back than I did, and yawned as if just awakened. He also seemed quite aware of what happened. I can only imagine what death is like for a priest – perhaps something told him.

The priests fussed over him for some time. I’m sure they would have been happy to continue, but a gentle word from me and they left us in private, after glancing at Dravot who just gave them a nod.

I said nothing at first, knowing words would do little. After some silence, I asked "How do you feel?"

He said "Disoriented and a bit out of sorts, but otherwise ok. I spent several days in The Fields of Elysium, so I had the chance to get used to the notion of dying. Or as used to it as anyone can get. Everything seems a bit colder though. I miss the warmth of the Fields already."

I simply nodded and said quietly “The whole world seems colder now.”

Then it struck me "Hm, wait - several days? You were dead scant hours. I felt the passing of less than an hour and was dead nearly a day...."

Dravot was slightly puzzled but said “I have not studied the planes much, but from what I gather, time moves
differently on the various planes. Scorch would know much more than I would about this.”

I shrugged, and just assumed it beyond my understanding for now. Then I told him "I hope your faith gives you some comfort through this. You'll need all the comfort you can find I'm afraid. I can say, with authority, that a
cat helps rather a lot."

He looked thoughtful and said “I have a theory as to why I died. I do not know if it is true, but it makes a certain amount of sense to me.”

I was curious. “If you'd care to share, I'd be intrigued, as it all seems quite senseless to me.” As I said it, I grew more sad than curious. “If you prefer to keep this private, I certainly understand that too”

“I will probably share it with you, but until I gain some confidence in my theory, I will keep it to myself,” he said.

“Of course - I didn't mean to intrude. But for the time being, rest. I'll be in touch soon - the others have
withdrawn from the Spire, and I needs speak to our patron about this.”

Now he was curious. “That would be fine. I'm quite tired and need to regain my strength. What will you say to Lord Gelban?”

I was determined in this matter. “I will tell him that I believe it would be sheer folly for us to return to that evil place. It will only result in more senseless deaths, and I am doubting that we have the strength to stop Gulthias at all.
Given his hesitation to send us back last time, I doubt it will take much to convince him now.”

Dravot sat quietly for a moment, reflecting upon what I said.

“I agree and I disagree. For us to go back at this time would be suicidal. At the same time, I will exact revenge upon the Spire and the foul vampire that resides within. It may be months or years until I am strong enough to deal with it, but deal with it I will. Please let Lord Gelban know this.”

I began to smile a slightly wicked grin as he spoke of revenge. “Indeed. Gulthias should be destroyed. And we should extract some level of vengance for the price we have paid, forgive me for sounding like Rackhir for a moment.” I chided. 

“But not today. But someday. Someday indeed.”

Dravot remained at the temple to rest, while I returned to the estate. I immediately sought out Lord Gelban, who wasted no time in seeing me. He was in his chamber pacing, clearly agitated, but no less so than I.

“Lord Gelban, the Spire has claimed not one but two lives now. While I would not argue that Gulthias is an evil which has claimed many more, and could claim many more, I will say that we are over-matched. That foul place will continue to kill us and Gulthias will be no worse for it. Dravot agrees that this is folly, though he would have you know that someday, when we are much stronger, he would like to return and exact vengance on Gulthias. But for now we must stop this.”

I was prepared to go on for quite some time if I needed to, but I didn’t think I would. Lord Gelban was just as agitated and concerned as I was, perhaps more so. After my death, he was hesitant for us to return. After this tragedy, he needed no convincing. He instructed me to arrange our return to Greyhawk as soon as it was workable.

Between Scorch’s teleportation and the helm, we were able to return the group, horses, Crescent and all, on the next morning. Lord Gelban met with us directly. He had no desire for us to meet a senseless death, and clearly the Spire was far more than any of the council had thought. He made us clear that not only did he not expect us to return, he did not wish it. He was actively opposed to our return, although he would not stop us if we were determined to go back.

I was strongly opposed to going back. The price paid was already too high, and the odds of success far too low. Rackhir was ready to return, but the rest were less firm in their opinions. Privately, I had already resolved not to return, regardless of what the others did. I was hopeful that my stubbornness, and the lack of one more able fighter, would deter them from entering that pit of doom. 

Fortunately it did not come to that. We stood together and decided not to return. Lord Gelban told us that we had indeed weakened Gulthias, and that he could be contained for now. With the threat blunted, it was a matter that could be left til later, and we were all just as glad to do so. Lord Gelban said that he had no other pressing matters for us and that we would likely be able to take the coming winter to relax, or tend to whatever other tasks suited us. The idea of some time away from all this suits me well, and I welcome it.

There was of course the matter of the significant pile of treasure recovered from Nightfang Spire. Given the price we paid to get it, we were not about to forget about it.

We met for a bit of accounting, and decided what to keep and what to sell off, either through the midnight market or the Guild, via Scorch. It was an impressive list, and in the end we were all a fair bit richer, at least in terms of coin.

Now I have some months ahead that are my own. Certainly a visit home to Celene is in order, and a trip to Highfolk as well no doubt. I’ll leave in a day or two, but first I need to discuss something else with Lord Gelban.

Loot
Yeah the readers probably don’t care but I need to log this stuff for the record somewhere.

Magic items and what we did with ‘em:
Helm of teleportation: Dravot will wear in fights for tactical movement. It’ll float around as needed otherwise. 
Ring of protection +2: Rackhir
Minor ring of lightning resist: Jozan (floats as needed)
Minor ring of fire resist: Dravot (floats as needed)
Ring of water walking: Sell
Ring of force shield: Sell
Potion of charisma: Jozan
Ghost bane dagger +3: Valanthe – our only +3 weapon right now besides Shatterspike when energized.
Necklace of fireballs: Sell
Bracers of armor +2: Kayleigh
Libram of flesh: Scorch 
Rust Bag of tricks: Sell
Potion of aid: Sell
Wand of mage armor: Keeping it for emergencies. Who has this in their inventory?
Wand of magic missiles: Sell
+2 shield of light fortitude: Jozan

The cash total for all money and sold items comes to 14,844 gp each.


----------



## Zad

*From Dravot's Journal*

*From Dravot's Journal - Heart of Nightfang Spire, Finale.*

It has been a week since my last journal entry. We are back in Greyhawk, taking the winter off from campaigning. I sincerely hope that our enemies do the same.

I am still struggling to understand what happened a week ago. Certainly, I believe that I am dealing with it better than Kayleigh did, but I have learned that I did not give her enough credit for her strength in dealing with her own death.

Nightfang Spire marks the first time that we have had to retreat in the face of a larger foe. We did withdraw from the Bebelith, but we returned a few days later to take him out. This time we will have to wait months or longer before we are strong enough to wipe out the scourge of Gulthias from the Oerth.

I fought that death ray and almost overcame it's strength, but at the last moment, found that I lacked the fortitude to withstand it's deadly effects. That Kayleigh survived and I didn't confuses me, but I have a theory about it. I believe that Pelor sacrificed me as a message to me and my companions about the dangers further in the spire. I am better prepared to endure the mental and emotional anguish that results in one's death and resurrection.

I think that Gelban was right and in retrospect we should have never gone into the spire. We were drained of life essence time and again, and yet we continued. Kayleigh died, and yet we continued. Jozan endured not one, but two cowardly death attacks by the foul assassin, and yet we continued. We found ourselves surrounded by hags, mohrgs and girallons, and yet we continued. Our own stubbornness would have put us into a situation where no one would have escaped. The celestials even told me that Pelor has continuing need for my work upon the material plane. Had we all died, Chavram might complete his mad plans, or Iuz, or who else knows what.

And so I died that we might all continue on in our work. That is my belief. The celestials either didn't know or wouldn't tell me if this was the case. I will speak with Kunegunda about it tomorrow and see what she says.

Jasmine has been quite distraught since she heard about my death, and even my return and presence hasn't seemed to comfort her much. I have spoken with Bellamy and informed him of my recent state and have decided to head back to Brindinford for a few weeks, and take Jasmine with me. Hopefully, returning to home will help her, and me as well.

Bellamy says that progress has been made toward my eventual marriage, and I am curious to find out what that is, but need to speak with Thora about it. While I am there, I will continue to look for books for my new library, and I will start to assemble a workshop for creating the chalice.

--------------

The Fields of Elysium were amazing. It is my hope to travel there sometime soon when I gain the spell abilities to walk the planes. There is so much to learn and do there.

My plans for the chalice have been completed. The research I did while at the Fields was invaluable to me. Now I need to assemble my workshop and bide my time until I am mentally focused and ready to make it.

The celestials claimed that Pelor was quite pleased that I would make Belline's Chalice. I am still somewhat in awe of this statement...it is one thing to learn about Pelor's glory and his interest in his worshippers, it is another thing to hear from a celestial about specific facts of one's life. To hear that Pelor is pleased is even better.

The darkest time of my life is past me now and I walk forward in the light of Pelor, knowing that I am on the right path and that I do his will and it will lead to the defeat of evil upon this land.


----------



## Zad

*Rant*

*RANT TIME*

Ok, you read it. We are done with NfS. We gave up. We packed it in and went the hell home.

This is the first time our party has failed to achieve the objective, and the first time we gave up. 

Lemme tell you something - we're not a weak group. We're not the greatest on defense, but we dish out major damage, and we entered NfS as six 10th level characters. Check the front - it calls for four 10th level characters. Wizardru usually beefs up the encounters a little to compensate but he didn't do much in NfS and it still kicked our asses.

How would I describe NfS? Hm. Arbitrary. Cruel. Mean-spirited. Overpowered. Grinding. In some points, simply ridiculous.

I believe it says in the DMG that an encounter appropriate for the party's level should drain about 25% of their resources. I got news for you: I don't think killing one out of four PC's is what they had in mind!

This place is crazy. If you're considering running your players through this dungeon, take my advice and don't. At least not at the listed levels.

Somebody must have pissed in Bruce Cordell's wheaties the day he wrote this module. It's nuts. The encounter levels are horribly under-rated. Death waits for you at several points if you just miss one single roll. Personally I don't think anyone likes PC's dying just because of a single bad roll - this isn't Paranoia after all. Wizardru told us some of the fun bits that awaited us had we continued and we were all so incredibly glad we didn't press on. The final encounter was a nightmare and I don't see how a party could survive unless they were four levels higher (we were 11th/12th by this point) or the DM was just giving out gifts.

At one point, Bruce has a golem. It's a tombstone golem. It's like a stone golem but he took out the "slow" ability and replaced it with a death touch. Every 1d4+1 rounds. Fail a save, die. Too bad, so sad, have a nice day.

Oh but he didn't even up the CR for this. Because that's about the same. Yeah right.

The spire has some interesting elements in it, but there are way too many of them piled up to make things hard for the PCs. The frequent hit-and-run attacks, the difficulty getting in and out, the respawning undead, this place is nuts.

So to Bruce, I can only say "What the hell were you thinking?" and "Did ANYONE playtest this?"

To the other DM's out there, I'll say "Don't do this to your players."

And to my fellow party members, "I'm SO glad we're outta there."


----------



## Zad

*DM Observations*

Originally posted by Wizardru

*Heart of Nightfang Spire, The DM's perspective.*

Well, we're done with Nightfang Spire, for now, and reasonably forever. Gulthias may return, but in conditions of my choosing, and the Spire ain't the place it's gonna happen.


*PROS: *


1). Interesting Monsters Nightfang Spire is full of some truly interesting monsters, and some mad challenges for the party. The classed beasties and mixed ability monsters keep the players guessing. 
2). Varied Design The spire proper has a nice design, and there is a good mix of challenges within, requiring a diverse party to deal with them. 

3). Evolving Environment The nasties within the spire are intelligent, and the design is such that return trips are not necessarily easier, depending on the player approach. The monsters respawn, hunt the players at their campsite, and ambush the party on occasion. The dungeon is not static.


*CONS: There are a bunch of these.*


1). Too Long. The amount of work to go through this module is an order of magnitude greater than previous modules. The players spent a large amount of time strategizing and buffing immensely before going in and getting out. Combine this with the dense packing of monsters and other challenges, and the module just starts to DRAG by the end. Most of the players were getting tired of the CRAWL aspect of the dungeon-crawl. Unlike Forge of Fury, where each area had it's own feel, Nightfang Spire is just more of the same.
2). Inappropriate Encounter Levels. Okay, the Tombstone Golem is an EL8. Right. With the SLAY LIVING ability. Gotcha. Half the encounters are EL Variable, which is no damn help at all, as they don't indicate what changes the EL of the encounter, such as the encounter of Aoket and the Spectres (that happening rock group). Gulthias himself is apparently expected to be encountered separately, although everything in the module indicates that by all logic, he shouldn't be. However, at a base EL of 16 (which I think is low), how is a group of four 12/13 characters to take him down, when he, by all rights, should have one EL9 creature and four EL3 creatures with him?

3). Arbitrary Events There is a trap in the catacombs that forces a DC22 WILL save, followed by a DC17 FORT save, followed by death. There are a variety of events like this.

4). Nonesensical Design Here's just a few of them:


Why is there a teleport chamber that only takes you to another room fifty feet away, that is easily walked to? No idea. 

Why are there rungs for the Girallons on both tunnels (78/79), when one only takes you to the huge pit of undead? How do the girallons use it? Why would they bother?

How did the big battle between the Gulthias' follower and Free Girallons occur, given that you have to cross through several trapped rooms to get there...traps that no Girallon will ever trigger.

Why has the door to Ogunnon Sathas' chamber been marked as such? Who is this supposed to notify, exactly?

How do the Girallons see to work, with no light source? The Night Hags?

Why is the Key 'protected' in such an odd fashion? No logic is given for the key hunt design, especially since it doesn't affect Gulthias and his minions. Given that this was once a temple, why was it originally put in, in the first place? No Idea.
5). Unbalanced Layout Too much of the dungeon is concentrated into encounter sets. If you don't like fighting the Undead, you're not going to like most of the spire. The respawning monsters means that you'll KEEP fighting them, too. Rogues, Monks and folks with Keen weapons or improved criticals will be pretty bored for the first few levels.

SUMMARY

Heart of Nightfang Spire is not a bad module, but it has some serious flaws in it that I wish I'd identified earlier on, and taken steps to remove. I think the players would have enjoyed it more if I had, and would have removed some of the glaring problems that I had with it.

My players did enjoy a large part of the module...but it got tedious, for most. That, and the fact that the module almost seems mean-spirited towards the players, which is not the sort of environment I want to engender. HoNS is like SC, only turned up to 11, with its prerequisite errors much more glaring, even amidst the parts that are even more enjoyable.


----------



## Zad

*The Binders*

Originally by Wizardru

*Being a treatise on the Binders (and other things):*

By request, some information concerning the binders, among other things. Much of this information has been discussed in-game, but not all of it has filtered down to the Story Hour, so here's a brief overview. (Will, this one's for you  )


*1.) What are they?*

Quite simply, they are magical prisons. To understand their full power, you need to understand the roots of magic. Here are the basic rules and history, therein.



Magic was first discovered by the Dragons.
Magic was then discovered by the Elves, who proceeded in exploring it, despite the warnings from the Dragons [most notably from the being now known as The Silvering].
There are Nine Circles of Magic, also commonly known as 'Levels' in some circles.
Each Circle is originally accessed by a 'key'...basically a simple conceptual formula which 'unlocks' the energies at that level of power. Think of these almost as Zen Koans or basic mathematical concepts (such as development of the number '0'). Without discovery and understanding of these concepts, magic cannot be enacted.
Humans gained the ability to wield magic from two sources: Dragons and Elves. Those who were Dragontouched (from interbreeding) gained sorcerous powers, not always comprehending or fully utilizing their abilities. Wizards learned their craft from a rebellious faction of the Gray Elves during an extended conflict between the Suel and Baklunish empires in the distant past.
Although the Elves limited the access to the first three keys, they underestimated the ingenuity of the human wizards, who soon mastered the other keys.
Extended conflicts erupted, and the Elves soon found their great empire sundered, due to internal and external strife. Eventually, they fleed the west altogether, after dealing with both the 'Storm Lords' and the Suel, who were rapidly gaining power. Eventually, a powerful wizard name Vecna, who had been their prisoner, proved their undoing.
The Suel Wizards grew in power, and they eventually sought to bring all of the Suel tribes and houses under control. To this end, the mightiest wizard creates a powerful artifact, the first Greater Binder. (see, we're getting there!)
Into this he summoned and imprisoned the most powerful of the Djinni Princes, Ali ben Yalla.
There are nine princes of the Djinn, and each one is keeper to one of the nine 'keys' of power. Ali ben Yalla is master of the Ninth, and greatest, key.
In turn, each of the nine princes were bound, three greater and six lesser.
The Greater Binders represent the First, Fifth and Ninth keys, and their masters. The Lesser Binders represent the remaining keys.
A Tenth Djinni was bound to an Artifact referred to as the Great Map, designed to monitor the Binders themselves, after their construction.

Hence, the Binders are powerful artifacts designed to hold the most powerful of the Djinn on the Prime Material Plane, and subject to the influence of powerful human wizards who possess them.

*2.) What can they do?*

They contain the power of some of the most powerful outsiders on the Prime Material. Able to grant wishes normally, the Djinn trapped with the Binders grant their possessors vast powers, but with different abilities and limits. The exact limits of each Binder are unknown to current records. 

What is commonly known is that the Binders were stolen and traded back and forth between the Baklunish and Suel during the course of their centuries long conflict. Eventually, they were all reclaimed by the Suel, who decided to use their combined power to deal what they hoped would be their masterstroke to end the long war.

Through their combined power, the Binders were used to call forth the Invoked Devastation, leveling most of the west into the desert waste we know today. However, the Suel didn't count on the power of the Baklunish retaliation, and at the cost of their lives, the most powerful sorcerors and shamans amongst the Baklunish summond the Rain of Colorless Fire, destroying the Suel with equal vigor.

Survivors of both these events fled during and after them, some bearing the Binders with them, but few of the original masters survived long.

*3.) So what happened next? How did the come to be hidden?*

Put simply, the Gray Elves still felt responsible for the situation, and to this day many view the destruction of the West as partly the fault of the Elves, for giving such power to men in the first place. A coalition of the Dragons, certain Elves and humans sought to first destroy the Binders, and when that failed, sought to hide them until such time as a solution could be found.

The Great Map was constructed to monitor these locations. Internal strife and time took it's toll on those responsible for the construction of the Binder's sanctuaries and on those who marked themselves the Guardians of same. Only a handful remain who know even some of the details, at this late date.

*4.) Where are they now? Who has them?*

The most important questions, of course. Currently, Chavram is known to possess at least one, and claims to have three or more. Several are still at large, presumably due to their protection, although it is suspected that at least one has been claimed by another power. The full extent of Chavram's abilities have not been gauged, but with the Binder's at his command, his power is clearly rising to the level of demi-god, under the correct circumstances. However, he is far from invulnerable, and the Binders do have their limits. Learning that knowledge is another matter.


Next time, I'll give a brief summary of the mark of the Arcane Archers, and some more details of their nature.


----------



## Zad

*From Valanthe's Journal*

*From the journal of Valanthe the Sleepless:*

14th of Sunsebb, Godsday: Whether they’re human or dragons, men are generally all the same. Folks like Gelban and the Hammer, they’re not much different than other men I’ve known…a lot easier to figure out than elves, that’s for sure. So when the Hammer told me that there’d been a change of plans, and that he didn’t want me going after Infernus, after all the discussions we’d had about it, I was more than a little steamed. I made it clear that I didn’t need ‘protecting’, if that was the problem. Turns out it wasn’t…apparently there’s politics involved. Once he explained who Infernus was, it made sense. I didn’t like it…but it made sense.

Still, he did offer me a different job, which was good, as I needed the money. I wanted an edge, the kind only magic gets you…and that isn’t cheap. And I wasn’t taking charity from the Hammer. Ever. I’m terribly fond of him, but I’m my own woman, and I earn what I need. And I always pay my debts. If Ardestor taught me anything, he taught me that. 

Needfest is only a few weeks away, so I wanted something. Surely there had to be someone who needed a little lightening of his or her evil burdens. Turns out there was. A sassy little enchantress in the High Garden district. She wasn’t a member of the guild, but the older order, the Sorcerer’s Society, or somesuch. She had her own little club, the Skullfire Mages, and she was NOT a nice lady. Apparently, she also was an expert in her own right in the type of magic that I was interested in: Tattoos. Hammer said that I’d need her backup spellbook, if I wanted him to make one for me. Ain’t commerce grand?

So I did some research. She owned a small estate, complete with stables and some housekeepers. A nice place, if you like that sort of thing, I suppose. Too much room for me, honestly, but a nice place to….explore. After I checked the place out, I visited the midnight market, and got a few supplies. Some scrolls and a few other things that I might need. A good thing, too, as they came in handy.

Mages think they’re pretty clever. Some of them are. A lot of them think that the only people who are going to bother them are other mages. This Jakara, or whatever her name was, she wasn’t quite that thick, but her defenses could use some sprucing up. Oh, there were some alarm spells…but come on, only the worst kind of amateur falls for those. Protecting a camp site’s easy…a house? Whole ‘nother matter. And when you can walk up walls, what good are they, really? Hmmph. I was worried it wasn’t going to be enough of a challenge. 

As I snuck in, under cover of invisibility, I saw a servant bringing a horse out into the courtyard. I was patient. I like danger, but I’m not stupid. It took a while, but sure enough, the lady of the house came out, all blood and thunder. God, what ugly pale skin. I mean, don’t these mages get any sun? I work almost always at night, and I don’t look like a zombie. On her exposed shoulder, I could clearly see her ‘skullfire’ tattoo. Bingo. That would make things much easier. I thought.

I didn’t know then that she’d prepared a defense involving my one weakness.

Magic rugs.

No, really. Stop laughing and shut up, or I won’t finish the damn story.

I hate rugs. What is it with mages that they think they have to make every damn thing move, anyways? Are animated rugs what you make when you’re not smart enough to make a golem? Sheesh.

Anyways, I waited a while (making sure to avoid the creepy garden in the courtyard…who knows what was going on there), and then broke in to one of the back entrances. It led to a workshop or a library, I’m not quite sure.

I’m not sure because I was busy avoiding being strangled by a stupid magic rug. Luckily, I was faster than the rug (this time). I still managed to be quiet…which was a good thing, as her homunculus was paying attention. The little winged git was locked in a cage, so I just walked across the ceiling, and got the hell out of there. I glanced at the books, but I knew it wouldn’t be here. 

So I worked my way through the house, and found the foyer. Wanna know what was there? I’ll give you a hint: floor coverings of evil. ANOTHER damned magic rug. This one had some sort of snake-hypnotism thing on it. I ignored it. At least it didn’t try to grab me. I kept searching, and then had to decide: up or down? If I were a mage, I’d put in the tower. I didn’t like the last mage’s basement I’d been into, so I went up. Being careful not to wake up the apprentice, I snuck in, and found the mage’s lab. Lots of tools for tattooing and other experiments. Too dangerous to store a book in. I kept searching.

I snuck around several of the servants and their quarters. Don’t know what they were doing, not paid to find out. I find ‘her ladyship’s’ bedroom. Tacky, I don’t mind telling you. Lots of knick-knacks, and imported goods. Who’s she trying to impress, anyways? 

There was a fireplace, couch, desk and bed, among other things. The windows to the place were huge bay windows….which was funny, because the building didn’t have any, at least from the outside. Must have been an illusion. Whether this was, or the outside had one, I couldn’t tell. The bed had nothing of note (and wasn’t very comfortable, I might add). The fireplace had a crystal ball on it, but it seemed…wrong. I stared at it for several minutes…and felt myself falling into it, getting lost. I shook my head and snapped out of it. Stupid mage trap. At least it wasn’t a rug.

I found a bookshelf, with a few interesting books on it. Tattooing was a popular subject. But not magic spellbooks here. Not surprised, of course. Why would a mage just leave it sitting out in the open. It’s not smart, and it’s not the way they think. Just ask Scorch. There were also some books on music. She’d scrawled in one of them, a bunch of letters into different combinations, trying to make a word. After a couple of minutes I realized it was always the same five or six letters. I took a few books for myself and Hammer.

Finally, the desk. There was an ugly sculpture on it. A chunk of flat-topped granite with some horizontal lines carved into it, and a series of tall gemstones inserted into the lines. What the hell was this? I touched the stones, and they made a nice, lilting sound. Each one was a little bit different. It took me a minute to realize that they were notes on a scale. I experimented with it. No matter what I did, it always played the same tune. 4, 6, 8, 6, 2 and then 3. Hmmph.

Then it hit me: the combinations in the books. She’d been working on a keyword. You must have to figure out a word on the crystals, and that would do…what? Well, only one way to find out. I thought about it for a moment, and then did a quick listing of the scales. Kayleigh’d shown me something about music, and Mother Gota taught me how to play, so I figured it out. It was playing a word, all right, “FACADE’. I said the word aloud. Suddenly, the book shelf pushed away from the wall, and a secret vault opened. A secret closet! I grabbed a few books, including the one I’d come for. I thought about grabbing a few other things, like the wands I’d seen downstairs, but figured it was time to leave. I said the word again, and it closed behind me. Out the window and down the street time.


I had what I wanted, and now I could get my Shadowmark. I returned to see the Hammer and we "discussed" things later that night - he was really appreciative. Mind you, I still had to cover his costs, but that's what I
love about him.

I just hope Gelban doesn’t find out.


----------



## Zad

This brings us up to date not only with the new messageboards, but with where we are in the current game.

In reposting the story, I left a lot of small posts out mostly because it's too hard to move it all. Unfortunately I had to also leave out a lot of posts from people who have read the story and said nice things to us. That really saddens me as it's posts like that which help keep me writing. So to anyone who read and posted I just wanted to say "Thanks!"


----------



## Zad

This was all on the old thread but moving the story was enough work as it was. I would have loved to take all the nice things people said and copy them over too but it just wasn't practical.

Anyway, after the debacle of Nightfang Spire, Lord Gelban has informed us that there is nothing pressing demanding our attention, and that we probably have a few months over the winter while things remain that way. The characters have each gone off to tend to whatever individual interests they have during this time.

Rackhir has already posted what he's been up to with Chavram and the griffin.

Scorch has undergone some . . . interesting testing at the guild. That's about all I know though.

Valanthe has posted her latest escapade also.

Those three are "done" their winter vacations as it were. The other three have yet to be dealt with by WizarDru. Recent discussions are that while the above three were handled in e-mail, the other three might be handled in a mini-game session with just those players involved.

Dravot is planning on doing research on the mark, and tending affairs at home, probably shuttling between Greyhawk and Brindenford.

Jozan is, I believe, planning on learning more about the destruction of his village.

Kayleigh is planning to return home and visit her parent in Celene, and will also probably go to Highfolk and spend time with Aran'gel also.


----------



## WizarDru

Dravot has made arrangements for return for Brindinford, to take care of official business there (messages to the Overking, signing documents and, oh yes, wife-hunting).

Scorch and Dravot have been busy, as well.

Jozan and Kayleigh (and possibly Val) are travelling to Celene, for fun, family and shopping.  And other stuff.  

Hopefully, we'll resolve most of this material in the next few days, and the alpha game will get jumpstarted fairly quickly.


----------



## WizarDru

*Final 'Dead of Winter' session tonight!*

Tonight, we may resolve the most important thing we've ever handled in the Savage Sword of Meepo...[COLOR=orange-red]changing Jozan's NAME.[/color]     You wouldn't believe the amount of confusion the DM's had keeping straight the fact that Jozan is the Paladin, and not confusing him with being Dravot the cleric, since that's the iconic cleric's name.  

Starting with tonight's session, we'll be moving forward with the primary plots in the game, and leaving the WOTC modules behind.  They're proving somewhat inflexible, and if I have to spend a large amount of time modifying them, it doesn't really save me any time over making my own, anyhow. 


Tonight's session should resolve the outstanding issues for Dravot, Jozan and Kayleigh, and allow the primary game to move forward.  Mind you, when the party reassembles, they're going to have to deal with a major problem before doing anything else, but that's an issue for the whole group.  How they handle it will be more problematic, but we shall see.    We haven't had a regular SSOM game since before the holidays, so everyone's pretty anxious to play, me included.


----------



## Zad

*Divine Wrath - Prologue*

*Divine Wrath*

Wherein our heros are sent on a mission of retribution from Pelor himself.

*Prologue*

*OOC Notes:*

This was a mini-session, designed to let Dravot, Kayleigh, and Jozan do some of their winter activities, and let us just spend a night and get it done rather than a lot of e-mail. No experience awarded.

Also note that due to in game reasons, Jozan is changing his name. More particularly he’s getting an elven name. If you miss that part, you’ll be awfully confused.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

When Lord Gelban informed us that most of the dark forces seemed quiet for now and that we would have some months to ourselves, I was quite pleased for the break. The last year has brought so many changes I could hardly keep up, and I’m relieved to have a chance to simply enjoy life. It didn’t take me long to figure out that I had little reason to remain in Greyhawk. I had been anxious to visit home for a while now, and this was my chance. I figured I would spend several weeks in Celene, then perhaps head to Highfolk for several more. 

I started my preparations to leave, and it wasn’t long before Jozan came to me, asking if he could join me. He wanted to look further into the destruction of his birth village, and thought Celene might be a good place to start. Of course there’s few better travelling companions, so this was not a problem. I believed that his status as an elven paladin would open many doors for him, but perhaps I could help him out a bit as well.

Before I left however, there were matters I needed to discuss with Lord Gelban. I went up to his offices, and found that Nasir was not as his desk. Inside the office I could hear some very heated debate which climaxed at with the sound of something being smashed. My first impulse was to make sure there was no attack underway, but then I realized that The Gilden hardly needed me to defend him, and it was more likely a result of the argument.

A minute later, Nasir emerged. He looked shaken and struggling to contain his rage. However he was at least trying to mask it. He informed me that Lord Gelban was within and available, and then departed. Only after he left did I allow myself a smirk – I have not cared much for Nasir since his snide attitude after the Glitterhame, and I was amused to see him inconvenienced now.

I entered the office and saw that Lord Gelban too was apparently calming himself down after the argument.  He offered some wine and gestured towards a couch, while he sat in a leather chair, before which was the smashed remains of what had once been a writing desk. He tried to act as if nothing was wrong, which I could only smile at. 

“I think we’ve reached the point where we need not bother with such pretenses.” I said, to which he relaxed a bit and we went from there.

I told him I was planning to visit my home, and would be gone some weeks. He told me he had regular caravans that went to Celene which I could go with, or not as I wished. I was looking forward to the quiet time so declined his offer. I did have a few questions for him before I left.

First I asked about the Spire and Gulthias. He told me that the Silvering, in one of his other guises, has arranged for a cadre of paladins from the temple of Foltus to go to the Spire and conduct a cleansing. However they believed that while Gulthias would be gone by the time they got there, it would eliminate the lingering problem and that stronghold. I was pleased to hear this, and was quite sure those paladins would not stop til the Spire was no more than rubble. I pray they have better fortune than we did. 

I also asked what went wrong. Had the Council overestimated us, or underestimated Gulthias, or both? He told me that Gulthias was much stronger than had been anticipated, and he had access to resources that had not been known. Who made the golems for instance? Some of them had girallon parts but Gulthias had shown no talent for the creation of such things. Where did they come from? Many questions remain but there was something more at work, and it cost us dearly.

Satisfied with that, I had some questions of a personal nature. I knew Lord Gelban knew my father, but did not know what precisely my father knew of Lord Gelban. I did not wish to misspeak and reveal something I should not. Lord Gelban was most grateful for my forethought in this matter, and said that while he has known my father his entire adult life in various forms, my father does not know of Lord Gelban’s true nature. Only his inner circle (which includes us I might add) has that knowledge. I assured him I would maintain his confidence. I asked if he had any message for my father, and he prepared a quick note for him while we spoke of other matters.

I also told him that I might be called before Her Majesty and wondered if she knew of his nature. He told me she knows of both Lord Gelban and of The Gilden, but not as the same being. I told him that were the Queen to ask directly, I would be bound to answer but it was not the sort of thing that would often arise in conversation, and I would keep the confidence if at all possible. This too he understood and appreciated.

The last matter, and the most troubling, was the one I most needed to speak to him on. That was of course the matter of The Mark. We had a frank discussion on the matter and I spoke my mind plainly to him, as well as what I knew from discussions with some of the others. He in turn told me his thoughts. What will happen remains to be seen.

With that I left him, and finished my packing. Jozan and I spoke, and we would leave the next morning with the two of us. 

“Three” he corrected.

“Hmmm…” I said. “I do not think that would be well advised. While your station may allow you to somehow get a kobold into the country, I fear for his safety. Should one guard see him alone, he’d be killed before he could say a word. I think it might be safer for him, and more conducive to your purpose, to leave him here.”

Jozan saw the wisdom in this, having no wish to see Meepo hurt. He arranged with Valanthe to keep an eye on Meepo while he was gone. I could only smile at what that might lead to.

One other thing I had to do before leaving was a last bit of shopping. I had looked through the high market for something I had heard about from one of Lord Gelban’s stewards – an enchanted rod that would make spells hold their enchantment longer. The marketplace turned out to be a waste of effort and it was much easier to just ask Scorch, who’s guild contacts now allowed him easy access to such things.

In the morning Jozan and I set out towards Celene. It was a relaxing journey and one I had been looking forward too. In a few days we crossed into Celene with little difficulty, however I noted that border patrols were increased. An inquiry of the officer told me there was increased activity from the orcs from the south, and other humaniods. He seemed hesitant to say more. I could have revealed myself as a Champion and gotten more from him but it didn’t seem appropriate.

A few days more and we were coming up to the capital. It was a welcome sight and one I had sore missed. The morning we arrived, we saw overhead the Companion Guard – three of them on their hippogriff steeds in formation. The threat must be more pronounced for the Queen to deploy them this way – it was most unusual.

Jozan and I rode up to the modest estate I called home, and the greeting was warm but somewhat surprised. Apparently the staff knew I had been killed and returned, and apparently that information came from Lord Gelban who notified my parents.  I would have preferred to tell them that myself but there was little help for it now.

My mother came out and hugged me as only a mother can. Father it seemed was asleep. Given the choice of waking him or going for a bath, I had no trouble deciding and went off to my wing of the house. Jozan was treated with all courtesy and I’m sure they made him comfortable.

A few hours later, as the idea of leaving the tub was crossing my mind, I was informed that father was awake and anxious to see me. Having soaked up about all the warmth there was here, I got dressed and went down to dinner.

The meal was wonderful and Jozan was well received. Everything was much the same as it had been, and that was a great comfort, given all the changes I had been through in the last year.

Before I told my parents all that was changed with me, I asked what was news here. What I learned was shocking and disturbing. It was all mixed with my father’s usual political grumblings about the isolationist policies but was full of news nonetheless.

First, the army was indeed at increased alertness. There were groups of gnolls moving through to the north. They were not attacking Celene, just moving from east to west across the northern border. There were some skirmishes of course but no real attack. 

I looked at Jozan briefly and then back to my father and asked “Who’s banner are these gnolls marching under?”

“We don’t know. It’s some kind of Aerdi symbol thought.”

I used some thick berry sauce and sketched out a dog-like symbol on my plate and asked if that was the mark on the banners. My father looked at me with shock and said it was.

It was Chavram’s banner.

Father was of course curious but I said I’d explain in a bit and to please go on. He then told me that there was also increased activity from the orcs from the Pomarj. Mostly probing attacks but it seemed to be a prelude. 

With my face half in my hands I said “Let me guess. They’ve been accompanied by strange plant creatures that are difficult to combat?”

My father was silent. He finally managed “How did you know? We are having trouble turning them back as they prove hard to fight. They seem to always be in the company of orcish shamans.”

“I can give you a great deal of information about these creatures, as well as the gnolls. We will have to make sure it reaches the right ears.” I told him. I had no idea that this was a threat to Celene or I would have provided this information sooner. I must remember to keep a better ear towards home in the future.

Father added “Fortunately some of the times they have appeared, one of the Champions was able to help turn them back.”

Jozan and I exchanged another quick look, having arrived at one of the key topics of the discussion.

“Yes. The Champions. About that.”

It was not so much my statement that drew in their full attention but that I was clearly somewhat hesitant to go on. After a moment I tried to find more words.

“I told you that much has changed in the last year for me. There is much I would tell you of. But I think perhaps I should start with this. Your daughter is a Champion.”

Unfortunately my timing was lax, and my father was taking a sip of his wine at the time I said that. Much choking and coughing followed, and Jozan had to hold my father in his seat for a moment.

My sister was the least fazed. “Wow. A Champion. That’s neat. How come you get to be a Champion? I wanna be a Champion. Can I be a Champion?” and so on.  This made Father cough even more.

I took off my now habitual gloves and they could now see the mark.

Once over their shock, they were very pleased and proud. Slightly confused, but proud nonetheless. I’m glad I started with that first however. Had I delayed any further, the news would have been much more . . . abrupt.

A servant ran in hurriedly and whispered to my father with great urgency. I sighed and put my face in my hands – there was no doubt what was happening and I was warned it would.

Father listened to the servant and then said with some confusion “Apparently there is a messenger from the Royal Court here.”

I looked up at him with resignation and said “You don’t say.”

The courtier was shown in, and four of the Companion Guard accompanied him. This in itself was most odd – a rather peculiar duty to assign them to. He spoke to my father and said “Is your daughter Kayleigh present?”

He was a young man, and seemed somewhat snotty. This in itself was hardly a surprise.

When he was told I was, he opened the scroll he was carrying and began reading. “Lady Kayleigh, daughter of Knight Ellsath and Champion of Celene, you are hereby instructed to appear before Her Royal Majesty Yolande at the time of the high sun tomorrow. In addition the Paladin of Sehanine is also instructed to appear before the Court, in keeping with the Fay Mysteries as the Moon waxes in the eighth house and the trees turn to bathe in the song of the winds of….” 

It went on like this quite a while. As soon as he got to the words “Fay Mysteries” everyone’s eyes glazed over, knowing what was coming. After five minutes of that kind of thing, he finished, and the guards and my father all seemed to wake up and come back to the present.

The courtier asked “Do you know the way or do you require an escort?” I may be the new Champion, but I know when someone is being insulting. Rather than let it go I decided to assert myself. 

“Oh, an escort would be lovely. So nice of you to offer. I’ll expect you here tomorrow then.”

The Companion Guards suppressed their snickers as the courtier tried to figure out how he lost control of that situation so quickly. Then I made a point of dismissing him just to agitate him further.

After they left, my Father was just looking at me and I said “I was told this might happen.”  At a loss he just let it go.

There was something else I needed to tell them, before someone else spilled the beans. This time, I was having quite a hard time getting started. The more I hesitated the more concerned my parents got. This was clearly something I was having a hard time spitting out.

“So, I have been studying with another Champion that I met in my travels. In Highfolk.”

“Oh.” Father said, still trying to figure out where the problem was.

“Maybe you know him?  He’s the Warden of Highfolk. Do you know him?” I said hoping for a reprieve.

“Hm. Warden…let’s see…” he mused. “The last Warden of Highfolk I knew…that was a while ago… killed by an orcish spear I think it was. No I don’t think I know him.”

I braced myself. “His name is Aran’gel.”

“Oh!” he said in a “what a coincidence” kind of way. “That’s the same name as the second Prince.”

I squirmed. He looked at me.

“No. Oh. No. It is a coincidence isn’t it? It’s just the same name.”

I squirmed.

“No. No no no. Aw, no.”

I said “I wanted to tell you before someone else did. I have no idea who knows what about this but at least now you’re prepared.”

It occurs to me that I didn’t actually mention that our relationship was slightly more than just professional. I’ll have to get to that bit later.

After he recovered and after we each had another glass of wine, I started in on a detailed story of the past year.  We had an excellent meal and spent some hours going over what all had happened. My sister was riveted to every word of course, but so would I have been at her age. By the time dinner was done, so was the story. After that I went to bed – tomorrow would be a busy day.

Fortunately clothes were not a problem. I spent the next morning getting ready. Exactly at the appointed time, the courtier showed up, again with four of the Companion Guard, and we all went to the palace. On the way I was able to speak to the Guard, who were none too happy about this duty, escorting someone who clearly didn’t need any escorting. They also went on a bit about the “Fay Mysteries.” Comments like “You know what I did yesterday? I lit braziers. Fifty five of them” were not  uncommon. The Queen’s study of the mysteries seems to have been running slightly amok lately. 

We arrived at the palace, and began to go through the appropriate rituals. In the first room it was light a candle, the next ring a bell, the third was listening to the wind through the trees there, and so on. Some twenty rooms like this. I tried to bypass some of it but apparently the forms had to be observed. I was sure I could skip it if I chose, but figured it would be wiser not to. I tried to keep an eye out for other Champions, but saw none. When I asked, I was told that I was the only Champion currently at the palace.

I entered the court, and upon the grand throne was Her Majesty, and her advisor Onselven. Around the room were various knights, courtiers, nobles and advisors chatting about various topics.  Conversation continued as I entered, and even when the Queen spoke it only caused a brief pause.

Immediately as I entered, Her Majesty said “Is this Our newest Champion? Attend us.” Conversations continued as I approached the throne and knelt before Her.  I hadn’t noticed this at the time really, until it all stopped a moment later. When the Queen said, in a terse voice “So…how is my son?”

The room went silent. Onselven’s grip on his staff tightened markedly, and even he didn’t see this was coming. Everyone looked like peasants in a village where a dragon had landed, and they were all just trying not to be the next one eaten.

Lacking any good idea how to handle this I tried the truth. “He has faced his share of trials of late, Your Majesty.”

“I see.” she said. “And when is he coming home? His people need him. Does he not care about this?”

I was clearly in trouble here if I didn’t find a way out of this forest. There was no doubt I was going to evade this question, and was searching for the best words when I heard Jozan over the scale saying “I confess I do not know his mind on this matter.”

I love those scales.

“I confess I do not know his mind on this matter, Your Majesty.”

There were a few small nods around the room, obviously approving of that answer. It seemed enough for the Queen as well as she went to Jozan.

When I introduced him as Jozan, the Queen simply stated “That is a human name.” It was explained how he came by this name and it is the only one he has. At that point, all hell broke loose.

A shadow appeared in the middle of court.  Not just any shadow of course. It was Verulinda. How she managed to get in here was beyond me. The guards were all on alert, as was Onselven, who seemed concerned but ready to handle it if necessary. Verulinda then said that Jozan was her nephew, and he was entitled to a proper name. She also felt it necessary to mention several times that she was dead. I think this was mostly as an explanation of why she was being rather flip.

It took a fair bit of explaining to calm things down but they did calm. Verulinda said that Jozan was her sister’s child. The village was a settlement on the outskirts of Highfolk but the elves of Celenian blood and that Jozan was therefore a son of Celene. (Some of this was in a loudly whispered conversation between Jozan and Verulinda in the middle of court. Not good form at all. She apparently wanted to talk to Jozan but he left too quickly.)

The Queen offered to allow him to choose his elven name according to the usual ceremonies and asked that the return for the ceremony when he has chosen it.

She had one last thing for me. “We will call you before us for the ritual that is done for all new Champions in some hours time.” There was an obvious dismissal in that, and I backed away from the throne, and the conversations resumed. She seemed to have little interest in me outside of my knowledge of her son. What precisely she knew of our . . . relationship was not clear. After a time She withdrew from the throne room. 

We then remained in the room, having conversations with various people. Despite the matter with Aran’gel (nobody actually said his name, or got anywhere near that topic) people were polite, kind, and generally treated me as a figure of great rank. It was a bit odd, but not over done and therefore not a difficulty. At my first chance, I spoke with Onselven, and told him I had information regarding a number of topics that would be of interest regarding the gnolls and the orcs, and asked who should receive this information. He took a keen interest and said that he would like to hear it himself.  Fortunately my father had also found Datrigar, the First Blade of the Knights of Luna, and brought him over for introductions. Datrigar would also wish to hear this information so this saved me saying it twice. Datrigar led the Knights of Luna, and yet deferred to me, treating me as a superior. I found that rather odd, and found it easier to relate to him as one soldier to another.

I spent the next three hours going over the gulthias horrors, their origins and weaknesses and so forth as well as Chavram and his plots and schemes.  When discussing the binders, Onselven was quite concerned. I started to worry.

“I do hope” I asked pointedly “that the binder in Celene is quite safe?”

He looked at me and said quietly “You’re standing on it.”

I had to steel myself a bit after that. He went on. “You will see it yourself soon. It is part of the initiation.”

I was sure that the information I brought would be of use, and briefly discussed methods of making sure that I could relay more in the future, as well as receive information from home.

After this I was summoned, again with Jozan, to the Queen in a private audience. Behind the throne was a hedge made of gold. From the right angle there was a passage and through this we went, eventually turning into a passage that sloped into the ground. We descended some fifty feet, and emerged into a now-familiar setting.

Like the others, this chamber had two levels in concentric circles. The stone was the same silver-veined stone as the chamber and the same as we had seen in visions, the great index, and the chamber in Brindenford. Unlike the others, this one had a binder. In the center was the binder – a hazy being of mostly torso of shimmering colors. Around it were two stone bands as intersecting circles like a quartered fruit.  It seemed smaller than the one in Brindenford.

The Queen awaited us there. She said “Behold the first binder. The first and most important, the key that leads to all others. This is one of the greater binders. This binder is protected. The constraints you see limit it. It will answer only to me and only in some capacities. Each Champion has placed their hand upon the binder and sworn an oath to protect Celene and her people. It is time for you to take this oath.”

I had no issue with taking the oath. But I’m sure it was evident on my face that I was having difficulty with the notion of touching the binder. After all that had been happening, I was fearful of this powerful thing and did not know what would happen were I to actually touch it. The Queen was patient however and allowed me time to approach and steady myself. And I put my hands on the binder and spoke the oath. For the briefest moment, I saw a vision of what was surely the City of Brass. 

The Queen nodded as though all was as it should be. We then spoke about the binders and it seems that they have a great deal of information about them. There are limits – for instance the binders cannot be directly used to free each other – it was part of the Contract so the princes would not be in direct opposition to each other. Each binder is also keyed to a particular area of magic and will not be able to do much outside of it. This was of keen interest to me, and I requested all the information they had on these limits as it would prove useful to us. Her Majesty said it would be provided to me. 

Before I departed, I told Her Majesty I would be travelling to Highfolk soon, and if she had any message she would like me to deliver. Onselven tightened considerably. The Queen looked tight lipped and angry but said “Please tell Our Champion that his people need him and wish him to return home soon.” For whatever reason, I felt sad about the rift between them. And I asked “And do you have any message for your son?” placing the emphasis on the end. Onselven looked like he was going to have kittens. The Queen thought a moment and held her emotions in check and said “We have no message for Our son at this time.”

Jozan and I withdrew and left the palace. This of course required completion of rituals of the Fey Mysteries once again, but we were able to speed through them a bit more this time and I discharged the guards as we left the palace, for which they were grateful. 

I’m glad Aran’gel warned me about all this.

After that, things were a lot more relaxed. I got to take baths, go shopping (a few magic items, plenty of clothes, and so on) and catch up with old friends. Rasha got to romp and play and generally had a grand time of it, safer than he’d ever be in Greyhawk. It was wonderful, and I felt renewed.

I met with several other advisors to the Court at various points to provide further details about the gulthias horrors and the gnolls. Apparently they thought they were moving to retake old fortresses in the Cron hills, but reports were this was not the case. The latest thinking was that they may be heading for some fortress in the Barrier Peaks.

There were two binder locations in the barrier peaks.

I was also given more information about the binders than we had seen to date. It seems that whatever this method of containing them involves, it can be done again. They have the techniques, but not the material. If we can find the source of the material and capture the binders, we might be able to lock them away again.

After eight relaxing weeks, I was ready to turn my thoughts to Highfolk. I had actually delayed slightly – Jozan had chosen his name, but the Queen had set the date of the ceremony according to the Fey Mysteries which translated to waiting a couple extra weeks.

The ceremony was a wonderful thing to behold. I was getting more used to being known as a Champion and the treatment that went with it but it was still odd at times. Still, I was very pleased to be able to be there with Jozan and be a part of it.

Jozan made his choice, and the Queen looked well upon it. No longer Jozan, he is now Aethramyr. As the ceremony came to a close, there was what I can only describe as a “moment”. Jozan froze, and then fell, in a way that’s becoming rather routine in my life. He told me he had received a vision. Not from Sehanine though but from Pelor. Within a minute, Dravot was on the scale – he had received the same vision, along with Thorkeld.

The Queen was most understanding about the sending, and the ceremony was concluded. As soon as we were alone, Jozan told me what he saw.

He was standing somewhere cold. A bone numbing cold. He knew instantly that Dravot and Thorkeld were seeing it also.  The ice beneath his feet was black and reached as far as he could see.  There were metallic structures on the bare landscape, and long trenches with wooden pylons, and sharp stakes, and some kind of barbed wire. Some buildings were large metal towers and others large domes. On some, huge metal arms went up and down in some kind of pattern. Steam hissed from some areas, and other noxious fumes from others.

Then came a man running fast and low to the ground.  He had the tattoo of an owl on his neck, and wore leathers and furs for the cold.  It was night, and he was trying not to be seen. He moved up to one of the trenches with barbed wire in front, and flipped over it and into the trench.  A trio of some kind of twisted elves walked along right past the trench – clearly on some kind of patrol. They were not dressed for the cold but did not seem to suffer from it with not even mist forming from their breath, and each carried a blade that looked unnaturally sharp. They had angular features and spoke in a variant of elvish that Jozan did not know. The human hid from them til they passed then went on.

He went down the trench which has buttresses of wood shoring up holes into the earth from the trenches. In the darkness people skittered in the holes. Humans. Starved and badly treated, almost unrecognizable. He went down farther. One hole has a man, woman and child, the woman with a symbol of Pelor in her hand.  The human said “I bring news from the owl. We’re going to get you out. Someone coming. We don’t know who but they’re coming. We’re going to get you before they take the rest of us.”

Then there is some kind of musical sound wavering between chimes and an odd musical pipe sound. The man says “The cuckoo is coming. I’ve got to go.” He stepped out of the warren and comes into the arms of the elven guards. One says in guttural common “The egg has been waiting for your return. You will be made an example. So will the family.” The man went for his dagger but one of the elves slices his hand from his wrist with a smooth motion. The man then turned to run but a long metal pipe or hose reached out from the distance and struck him square in the chest. The man froze, then groaned. The sounds started again, and the man paled as his life force was sucked out, along with much of  his internal organs and fluids.  In a few moments, he was dead.  The pipe snaked back off to where it came from.  The elves then go into the hole and pull out the family.  To the man they say “You are to be made example. To be killed is not good enough. The cuckoo takes you.”

Another tune plays and a pipe comes out and grapples him around the chest like a harness and takes him away.  To the little girl they say “Death not good enough, put her in a marionette.” 

Then they say “The owl will not come. You will remember.”

The vision ends with the woman, crying and praying to Pelor.

A conversation between myself, Dravot, and Aethramyr follows. There is no doubt in their minds – Pelor has showed them the suffering of his people, and he wants them to put an end to it, to free them, and to punish their oppressor. 

But where? I had thought it was some other plane of existence. But then it finally hit someone. The black ice. Far to the north, at the very edge of the Flanness is the Land of Black Ice.

It seemed that Pelor wanted something done, and those who wronged his people smitten.

The overall gist of this was relayed to Lord Gelban, who of course had no desire to stop Aethramyr or Dravot, and had no immediate need of us in any case.  Since Jozan … sorry Aethramyr went with me to rescue Aran’gel, it seems only just that I offer to join him on this quest.  We began making arrangement to meet up in Highfolk and continue northward from there. Scorch had completed the work he was doing and was therefore available, and Valanthe was always open for some new trouble to get in to. 

As for Rackhir… I’m not sure. This is a deed for Dravot and Aethramyr, and it is their decision to make. But I am ill at ease with the Mark in our company. Rackhir is what he is, and this does not trouble me. But I have no wish to ever wake up and see Chavram again. Unless Dravot has found some way to hamper the mark, I will urge them not to ask him to join us.

Seems I’ll get to visit Aran’gel but not for as long as I had hoped.


----------



## dravot

Dravot’s Journal: Winter in Greyhawk

I have spent much time accruing new books for my Libram, and apparently news of my work is starting to spread.  During my visit to Scorch’s laboratory, someone from the Grey Guild asked me about the books I have acquired.  I think I’ll let him use them, but I’ll take some time before I get around to it.  I recall their lack of haste when it came to my lawful petition to have the manse Hallowed.

This is but an amusing distraction.  Many important things are afoot and leads need to be followed.  Valanthe came to me a few days ago, sneaking into my den and nearly scaring me to death.  She was concerned about Brontal, the smith who was to have made my firebrand, and wanted to continue to investigate it further.  She asked me what majicks I had at my command to help find out what happened to him.

I put my book down on a side table and started thinking aloud.  "I thought about a couple of methods, but the most obvious method, Speak with Dead is useless, since he was cremated.  We might be able to get something from Divining, but that's tricky.  It's mostly used to determine outcomes of specific actions...we'd have to formulate our questions carefully.  I do not yet have the ability to Commune with Pelor, but when I do that's an option.  If my superiors at the Temple are willing, they may be able to
help with the Commune.  We could also try to visit Brontal in the Elysium Fields, but again, I would need aid to get there, as it's currently beyond my power."

We agreed that I should see Prestwick at the temple the next day and see if he would either plane shift us, or Commune with Pelor on our behalf.   Prestwick agreed to Commune for us, reminding me that it would be Pelor’s will if Brontal were to travel to the Elysium Fields.  I thanked him and made arrangements for Valanthe to meet me at the temple after the noon services.

She was on time, and we took a few minutes to come up with questions that would hopefully yield some answers for us.  We met Prestwick and began the ceremony.  It was a bit creepy watching him take on minor aspects of the Deity, I must admit.  We started with our questions.

Is Brontal's soul in the Elysium Fields?
_No_

Does Brontal know who killed him?
_No, but he thinks he does._

Is that person or thing still in Greyhawk
_No_

Is the person/thing connect with anyone /or group in Greyhawk?
_Yes_

Has the mark been altered by someone other than Chavram or Ali ben Yalla?
_Yes_

Did The Scarlet Brotherhood or their agents cause either Brontal's death or tampering with the brand?
_No._

Did Iuz or his agents cause either Brontal's death or tampering with the brand?
_No._

Did Fraz Erb Luu or his agents cause either Brontal's death or tampering with the brand?
_Yes_

Did Fraz or his agents learn that I wanted the brand from the temple blacksmith?
_No_

With that, Prestwick collapsed as the aspects of the Deity faded.  “I hope that was helpful to you.”

It was, and we told him so.  Unfortunately, these kinds of things are difficult to discern and I felt like we wasted many questions, although I still am not sure I could come up with better ones.  Prestwick asked about Fraz and if we had any dealings with fiends.  Valanthe and I listed the demons and devils we had encountered in the past few months and Prestwick nodded.  He explained to us about the BloodWar, an ongoing struggle between the demons and the devils.  Chavram has aligned himself with devils, which has made himself a target to chaotic fiends.  We reasoned that possibly the mark was tampered with in an effort to interfere with Chavram.  Yet another lead to followup.

I’m not sure who suggested it, probably Valanthe, but someone wanted to know if we could bring Brontal back.  Prestwick hesitated a bit, as a full resurrection is not a light undertaking.  I thought about it for a minute and realized that the reason that he died was to get to me (or perhaps to Chavram through me).  In any case, it was unfair that he should die in a struggle not of his making, and if nothing else he should get a chance to continue living out his life.

Prestwick nodded and we made plans to do so at noon the next day.  In many ways I was glad to see this as a few months ago my requests would have fallen upon deaf ears.  It would appear that I have salvaged much of my reputation an stature within the temple.

At noon the following day, we began the ceremony of resurrection.  In the middle of the ceremony, something went wrong.  Brontal’s soul wanted to return to his body, but it was restrained from doing so.  Somehow Valanthe and I caught sight of a land of darkness, with a palace or castle in the distance.  A rainbow of colors was being sucked into this fortress. 

This made no sense to me, nor to Prestwick.  Valanthe had a hunch though, and left to make some inquiries.  She returned to my study a couple of days later.

"Dravot, I now believe I know where Brontal is. During the resurrection,  when the darkness fell, I saw something in the middle of the dark. I saw a castle or fortress, with many, many crystals of different colors, and it was drawing the light inwards. I have had some suspicions of what or where it might be and now after confirming with Scorch, I know it to be on the plane of Shadow."

"This raises the question - Is the Shadow King also involved in the tampering of the brand or the mark?" 

I replied.  "It could be.  I do not know whether the Shadow King would ally himself with Fraz or not.  Perhaps Scorch would be able to predict such likelihoods.  Brontal needs our help...well, my help anyway, since he's there because of me.  Hopefully I can find out when I go and rescue him."

I wished that I had the ability to travel to the other planes, but Pelor had not yet granted me the wisdom to do this.  Perhaps there is a reason for this, although I know not what that might be.  I can only hope that Brontal’s soul will remain safe until I can get there.

Dravot’s Journal: Visit to Brindinford

I am now in Brindinford.  I made use of the helm of teleportation that we took away from the mummy in Nighfang Spire and popped into the courtyard of the family keep in town.  There was a lot of activity as people went about their duties; my presence was quickly noted by someone, and the activity doubled as the word quickly spread.

One of the guards quickly came up to me and welcomed me home.  He was clearly puzzled at my appearance, as I had not sent word about my trip, nor had I come through the main gate.  I had a little fun at his expense and recommended that he beef up security and double the guard.  I noted that most of the reconstruction was finished, and looked wonderful.

I headed into the house and handed my baggage to someone to take to my rooms.  She gave me a quizzical look and took the bags upstairs.  I found Thora in the main hall.  She scolded me for showing up unannounced, claiming that it would take hours to get everything back to normal.  I laughed and tossed off a bon mot about a little clamor being good for the household.  This earned me a dirty look from Thora.

I stood there taking in the grandeur of the hall, and feeling the security that one should feel when they return home when I realized that Thora was still speaking.  To me, evidently.  “…unexpected guests arriving at all hours of the night, blah blah blah.”  I made a note of that one phrase, but tuned out the rest of it.  If it was important, I’m sure I’d hear about it 4 more times, at least.

It was then that I heard a different voice.  “Greetings, Dravot.”  I turned to see Zira bin Tabara standing in the doorway.  If it had been Chavram I wouldn’t have been more surprised.  No, I take it back.  I wouldn’t have been surprised to see Chavram at all.  This was a huge distance from the Pale though, so to see Zira was a bit of a shock.

She explained that she wasn’t all that welcome in the Pale, but not really why she was here specifically.  Thora was more than a little confused.  “Are you another guest?  When did you arrive?  I hadn’t heard about you, just the gentleman friend of Dravot’s.”

“Ah, that was my brother.  You’ll have to forgive him.  I’m afraid that he probably traded upon his relationship with Dravot, claiming a stronger friendship than truly exists.  I’ll bet that we’re in your chambers.  I should have our stuff moved to another room immediately.” She said apologetically.

I turned to Thora and said that I’d explain things later.  I welcomed Zira to the family home and made sure she knew that her visit was perfectly acceptable.  Thora broke up our conversation and dragged me to the main offices for the estate.  I spent much of the rest of the day signing documents.  Thora barely gave me time to read what I was signing.  I did notice a new tax from the Overking for the containment of Raux, something about a land grant for the temple of Wee Jas and something about the new grove of trees for the elves.

I take my duties seriously, but I was starting to feel overwhelmed, and thus was relieved to be rescued by my brother Gerrin and Sir Thorkeld.  Or at least I thought it was a relief.  They clearly needed to speak with me, and they clearly didn’t want to speak in front of Thora.  It was of such a concern that Gerrin’s usually glib tongue tripped him up and made Thora mildly suspicious.  In any case, I begged off of the deskwork and headed with them to the temple of Pelor for ‘prayer and reflection’.

The town captain of the guard was  waiting for us on the steps of the temple and went in with us.  We occupied a small office in the back and I heard the news.  A week prior to my arrival, someone had stolen the fragments of the evil sword belonging to the foul blackguard we had killed a few months earlier.  The two men assigned to guard it were killed, with a small sliver of the sword imbedded in each of them.  Apparently their souls were destroyed, for attempts at resurrection yielded nothing at all.  

“That’s not all, brother.” Gerrin said, as he removed a necklace from around his neck.  It held a green crystal, much like the one that kept Chavram trapped in the crypts.    He placed it near the small purple fragments of Fellsoul’s sword and it pushed them away.  They repelled each other, similar to two loadstones brought within proximity to each other.

This is a tremendous concern, but I do not know yet what it means.  I agreed to take possession of the fragments until further notice.

In an effort to lighten up the mood, Gerrin asked me about Zira.  He found her to be quite beautiful and wanted to know more about her.  I decided not to tell him about the curse, and just mentioned that we had met elsewhere.  He said he’d try to meet up with her later that night, which I heartily encouraged.  Strangely, he hasn’t spoken of what happened when he finally caught up with her.

I need to speak with her more about this curse of her brother’s, and find out if there’s anyway I can help break it.

Dravot’s Journal: Visit to Brindinford

I finally trapped Thora and made her spill the beans about the marriage search.  She has so far managed to duck the issue on several occasions.  I was ready to toss a hold on her if need be.  Apparently the news about our family situation has traveled far ahead of us, and those offers that have come in are either from the destitute or the dangerous.  When I mean dangerous, I mean ‘openly consorts with fiends’ dangerous.
Or I can marry an animus’ granddaughter.  While we do have much in common, the wedding would be quite awkward, what with me slaying her grandfather  at the reception and all.

Thora will continue to search and field offers, but I despair that we won’t find anyone appropriate for someone of my station.

Dravot’s Journal: Visit to Brindinford

I have undertaken many tasks within the past year, at the bequest of one person or another, or simply because it seemed like a good idea at the time.  This time I am under a holy writ from Pelor himself.  Thorkeld and I were at the temple praying when we were gifted by a terrifying vision.  We could tell that Jozan was receiving the vision at the same time.    Pelor needs us to help these people.  It would appear that they are sorely in need of aid.

I will return to Greyhawk in the morning with Thorkeld.  I would be there now, but there is much to do here before I leave, last minute paperwork and the like.  Thora has done a wonderful job so far; I know I leave Brindinford in capable hands.  I understand that Kayleigh has volunteered to go with us.   I have been unable to get in touch with Scorch, Valanthe or Rackhir at the moment.  I will try again in a while; but I may have to go to their apartments directly.  I do not know if they’ll be willing to go with us, but their company would be most welcome, and I am most eager to see Rackhir’s new bow in action.


----------



## Valanthe the Sleepless

*Val's Journal - Shadow Talk*

I don’t like mysteries.  I don’t like them at all.  My companions and I have being coming across them more and more often, and I hate it.  It’s like an itch you can’t scratch.  Some folks don’t mind it as much.  Rackhir…he’s not so much of a ‘why?’ kind of person…more of a ‘how?’.  The whys and wherefores don’t bother him, just getting the job done.  Not me.

So when Brontal turned up dead, it bothered me.  With the quiet time after our oh-so-deadly experience in the spire, I thought it might be a good time to look up some information about the matter.  But I already wrote about that.  What I haven’t gotten to is what happened afterwards.  I saw something that was pretty damn freaky, and it reminded me about another mystery…the Shadows.  Sooner or later their war is going to bite me on the tail, and I know only a little about it.  I decided to ask Verilunda a few questions.  I mentally called her, and from the shadows in the corner, she took form.

"What do you know of the plane of shadows?", I asked.

“You mean other than living here?”, she replied.  She really HAS been hanging around me too long.

"OK, more specifically, how much do you know of the crystals, like the green I wear and the purple ones?”  I told her about the Blackguard’s sword and the incident at Dravot's.  Then the biggie: the attempt to resurrect Brontal and the fortress with the crystals sucking in the light.  The mention of the citadel brought the elf in her back out.  She scrunched her forehead, and thought about it.

“At first, I knew very little, other than what anyone knows.  Creatures like Shadow Mastiffs, and of course, Shadows, come from here.  Or rather, that's what I thought.  There's more to it than that, though.  Not all shadows are evil...but I think they can all become evil, in time.  Most shadows are 
created when the living are drained of their life energy and become trapped here.  If that happened to this Brontal, he could be trapped here, under the Shadow King's sway.”

“The Shadow world is very much like the real world...but colder...drained somehow.  I don't think it was always like this, I think once it was like our world....then something happened.  I've spoken with some representatives of one of the two factions here: the Shadow Princes.  They were once the rulers here, or so they say.  It was a different world, then, not peaceful, necessarily, but fairer than our own world, or so they claim.  It was called the Mirror World, then.  But then the Shadow King came, and with him came the darkness that knew no equal. That's when the shadow people started arriving from our world.”

“The Mirror World had different nations, and each nation had one unique property: the Isometril ore.  Every nation mined a different color of it, and refined it.  It's like a crystalline metal, and that's what those shards are.  The Shadow princes use them to protect and detect their enemies.  The green are from the one mine they still control, that is not totally under the Shadow King's sway.  The different nations had a central meeting place, where they met to discuss matters of import...a neutral ground at the very heart of the Mirror World.  This was the spectral citadel, constructed entirely from Isometril of different colors.  The Shadow King conquered it, killing many of the Mirror World's leaders, and taking it for his own.  Then he started using the Isometril crystals to absorb all the light from this place, and to draw it into the Citadel for his own dark purposes.”

“If you say these Blackguard crystals of Dravot's react with our Isometril charms...then they must be made of Isometril, too.”

I decided this was enough…I needed to meet these contacts of hers.  I asked Verilunda to set up a meeting, and then checked with Scorch.  As expected, he knew where I could find a portal to the Plane of Shadows, just north of the city.  It only appeared at midnight every two weeks in an Apple Orchard…but tonight was one such night.  Lucky me!

I waited…which is no small challenge, you understand, and then I found it.  It  was like a swirling cloud of smoke, circular in form, fringed with a strange white illumination...not bright, but enough to offset the portal and make it more visible.  A sane person would make a habit of avoiding something like this.  So naturally, I jumped straight through.

Stepping through the portal, I felt an odd, slightly chilling sensation, but it passed.  Kinda reminded me of one of Dravot’s lectures.  The light got slightly brighter, and it looked to be somewhere just before dawn, still in the orchard.  But I couldn’t tell where the light was coming from, which was more than a little unsettling.  I could see the apple trees and a pump house nearby...but they were twisted and different...as if I was seeing through a mirror at the menagerie house-of-tricks.  The pump house was exaggerated and angled oddly, as if it had been made of taffy and pulled in odd directions...while the trees looked distorted and kind of sickly.  Not dead, but twisted.  The ground seemed oddly drained of color...as if it had been bleached.   The color remained, but it's intensity was far less than it should have been, darkness or no.

Verilunda was waiting for me.  Unlike the way she appears in the material world, here she appears as she must have in life.  Dressed in simple hunter's leathers, a knife at her side and bow at her back, she was crouching next to a small fire, offering me a warm smile as I arrived.  Here, she looks like a normal elf, not a thing of shadow.  The firelight seemed far less than what it should be, and the warmth it offers is adequate, but not by much.

"I've arranged for them to come to us, soon.  Two of them, named Harrid and Ilyers.  They claim to speak for the Prince of Amethyst, one of the five remaining Shadow Princes.  In the meantime, sit.  We can talk, relax and you can try some of this Shadow Mastiff I've got roasting on the fire.  It took some doing, but I've actually found a way to make them taste good....well, not bad, at least."

After a half-hour, Verilunda and I both rose, as one.  Sensing the silent approach of others, we were on our feet, ready for trouble.  They appeared somewhere at the edge of the light, quiet...but to someone like us, not quiet enough.  They appeared darker than Verilunda, but appeared to be two men, a human and a half-elf.  The half-elf was darker in appearance, seemingly engulfed in shadow, even when standing near the fire.

"As you requested, our Prince has sent us here," the half-elf who identified himself as Ilyers announced.  "We don't have much time before the Shadow King's agents learn of our presence here, but we have some small time.  What can we tell you, dancer?"

I bit back half-a-dozen comments.  Took some doing, but I did.  I didn’t have time, they didn’t have time.  And I needed answers.

“So is one of you the prince, or what?  I need to know about these crystals.”  To emphasize the point, I waved my green crystal on the length of cord around my neck at them.

"We are only servants of the Amethyst.  The crystals you refer to are stones called Vitaesis, or Life Gems.  Once they were the heart and soul of this world.  They are much like the lodestones of your world, but there are more than two kinds, and they react differently with each other, or in concert. They contain natural energies, which can be enhanced or depleted, to those who know their lore."

I nodded.  At least we were getting somewhere.

"We have found that there is a evil organization that has used the purple crystal, the same crystal that is/was used in my dream of the shadow king being locked in his cell. They have forged it into a nasty sword for a Blackguard. It was smashed to pieces when we defeated him and some of the pieces we kept in the possession of Pelor’s followers. But just the other night, the men guarding the shards were slain, impaled by pieces of the sword, and their souls gone."

I sat back and waited.  Now we’d see how on the level these guys were going to be.

"The Shadow King and his agents have delivered Vitaesis to those who would support his darkness or ally themselves with his goals.  An evil force on the material, we know not which, works with the Shadow King, and it is most likely they who forged this foul blade of which you speak.  It was probably forged with an alloy of Isometril, to create a blade of unique power.  Its individual shards could be terribly misused.

If those struck by the blade lost their souls, then the conduit to this plane still works through them, even in fragments.  No doubt their souls have been stolen or devoured...much like your smith, who is no doubt trapped within the Spectral Citadel, awaiting destruction...or worse, corruption."

OK, now we were getting somewhere.    

“So how many of these gems are we talking about, anyhow?”

"There are nine types of Vitaesis, each with different properties.  Amethyst (Purple), Diamond (clear), Jade (green), Onyx (black), Opal (yellow), Pearl (white), Ruby (red), Sapphire (blue), and Topaz (orange).  Their properties align like a cross, with diamond at it's center, the axis on which the four spokes rotate.  Their potencies increase further away from the center, and their reactions to their opposites greater.  This foul blade you mention must be made of Onyx, bound with Isometril.  It would respond strongly with the Jade Vitaesis you wear, which hides you from the Shadow King's notice."

"The uses of these crystals is involved, and takes more time than we have to explain.  Here, take this note, it shows the Vitaesis and how they interrelate.  Now, we must go.  We have little time.”

And with that, they tore out.  I examined the note, which looked like this:

NOTE:  Axis works as follows (for illustration purposes):


                               Onyx
                                   |
                            Amethyst
                                   |
Ruby--Topaz-------Diamond-------Sapphire--Jade
                                   |
                                Opal
                                   |
                                Pearl


Stones on opposite ends are diametrically opposed.  Further distance between stones indicates a stronger potential negative reaction.

Well, whatever.  Seemed straightforward.  I suppose.  Either way, I needed to get to Highfolk.  I left a message for Dravot, asking him to take Apple north with him, and thanking him for the help.  In the meantime, Verilunda and I shadow walked there.  It’d be much faster than normal, and give me both time with Verilunda (just us girls, after all) and more time to learn about the plane of Shadow.  Before the Plane of Shadow learns about us.

And this is going to sound odd (and I’d never tell Ardestor), but I feel like I have to go.  Just hearing about people being treated like this…it just,…it gets me angry.  I almost feel like Tritherion WANTS me to go.  Pretty crazy, huh?  Ah well, more later, when my feet get tired again. 

-Valanthe the Sleepless


----------



## Zad

*Divine Wrath - Chapter 1*

*Chapter 1 – Oh the weather outside is frightful*

*OOC Notes:*
Experience is 1603 each.

The captured letter is most interesting, as is the information that Valanthe got from the shadow folks, especially when combined with what I learned in Celene. Of course, it still seems like our rate of answers is outstripped by our rate of new questions. I’m sure we all realize the importance of raising this key campaign metric what with the stockholders meeting coming up. 


*This Week’s Adventure*

With this new imperative from Pelor, plans were quickly made to head northward. It would be a difficult journey to say the least – why Pelor couldn’t have brought this up in the summertime is beyond me. Travelling to the very northern edge of the Flaness in the dead of winter was not likely to enhance our chances. But such is the way of the divine.  By one method or another, we would all set out for Highfolk, intending to meet up there and set out from that point.

There was one troubling matter that had new urgency now that we had an immediate task. I had spoken with several of my fellows about my growing discomfort with the Mark Rackhir bore. It was not so much that I feared a betrayal from Rackhir himself – he was in truth little different than he ever was, and still had the same motivations. However the Mark has given Chavram fearsome powers, and most troubling ones at that.  It was not something I wished to have with us on our travels, and some of my fellows shared my concern. I would have been much happier if there was a way to block some or all of the Mark’s powers. Dravot and Scorch were both looking into the matter but I was loosing hope that a solution could be found.

It finally hit me that perhaps instead of waiting around doing nothing, I should try to do something myself. I was standing in Celene, and there were surely knowledgeable folk here. If nothing else, it would exhaust one more avenue. Of course I had no idea where to begin or who to speak to, but this seemed a case where rank had privileges and I decided to speak to Onseleven and let him point me in the right direction. I had something for him anyway – Scorch’s formula for the compound toxic to the Gulthias horrors. It was a simple matter to see him, and he was most grateful for the formula. I told him of the situation with the Mark and he pondered the matter for a moment. He then told me that perhaps speaking to scholars was not what would be needed here.

The binder in Celene is the binder of Diviniation. The Queen could use the binder to attach an enchantment to the mark on my hand – the archer’s notch – that would interfere with any scrying attempts in my general area. This would prevent friend and foe alike of course but would curtail some of Chavram’s ability to keep track of Rackhir, provided he was near me.  The enhancement could be removed at a later time when it was no longer needed.

I thought this to be a fine solution to the immediate problem, but wanted to speak to Rackhir first. He was easy enough to contact and I conveyed my concerns to him. I also realized that while he was surely a man at a crossroads, this would at least allow him to make his choices without Chavram peering over his shoulder. I expected Rackhir to react either strongly opposed or in favor, but he surprised me by being somewhat indifferent. He cautioned me that Scorch had been knocked unconscious while probing the mark, and made it clear he had no desire to be tethered to me. But he said if I wished to try it, then it mattered little to him. Given that it was a way to protect us all, and most notably Rackhir himself, I chose to have the alteration made. It took very little time and Her Majesty was most accommodating on this matter.

I had already been preparing to spend time in Highfolk, and was delayed only by Aethramyr’s naming ceremony. So Aethramyr and I were quickly on our way and in Highfolk within a couple days. The others would take longer, and the last would arrive in about three weeks, which gave me at least some of the time I had intended to spend with Aran’gel.

Of course, he was interested to hear of my visit home, and was hardly surprised at the Queen’s attitude. He seemed somewhat offended that she would spend precious little attention on her newest champion, and instead badger me about him. I simply shrugged since I had no idea what to expect.  I conveyed the Queen’s message to him precisely, which he could only roll his eyes at. At least I got him to smile when I told him of my verbal jousting with the court functionary who delivered the message.

While the others showed up in ones and twos, I spent most of my time with Aran’gel. Mostly in training, since he was quite adamant about what he had to convey. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a great deal of talking, or sitting, or drinking, or just being. We discussed something of the road northward, but his knowledge did not extend far. He was able to help me with preparations for the weather we’d be facing, and we even got a pair of magic boots specifically for northern travel. I suspect I got something of a break on the price just because I was with Aran’gel, but I’m hardly going to complain about that.

Of course he’d been busy too. He had the hand engraved with the Archer’s Notch, and enchanted so it would move. He told me he was going to keep the hand until the Black Archer was destroyed, and when he feels the Mark return, he’ll have his hand regrown as a sign of his inner healing. I found the entire thing nonsense and would rather he just have the hand regenerated but I knew better than even try to argue it. Still I had my own ways of making it clear I didn’t want that metal thing near me, and it was not lost on him.

It was a pleasant time, even knowing that some very cold work awaited us. After the time in Celene and then in Highfolk, I feel recharged and renewed. And between the two, I’ve never been treated better. At home I was the new champion and afforded a great deal of respect and courtesy, as well as wonderful treatment anywhere I went. In addition, I had brought valuable information to Court, and that gained me no small respect either. In Highfolk, it wasn’t rank or station that made a difference – it was just that they were wonderful people, and I was a friend (or more) of Aran’gel. Listening to the rumors and talk was amusing just in itself. Only the elves understood the nuances between us, and trying to explain it to the humans and halflings was simply a wasted effort for those elves that tried. I am most grateful though to have had this rest after the horrors of recent times. And I can look towards repaying my debt to Pelor feeling more like my old self than I have in some time.

Valanthe had some rather surprising information as well. She had apparently met with some of the Shadow Princes or their agents and had learned a number of interesting things. Most notable was about Isometril. My jaw must have hit the ground when she mentioned it, but then hers did when I told her that was what held the binders. Our two sets of information meshed rather nicely and filled out quite a picture.

It seems that both paladin and blackguard blades are usually made of an isometril alloy. The crystals that comprised the blackguard blade that was stolen were clearly mined in the shadow plane.  There are a variety of types of Isometril ore, but all of it comes from the shadow plane. Who controls which types relates to the power struggles on that plane between the King and the Princes. But now we know where the ore comes from. Also it’s clear that Brontal’s soul is being imprisoned by the Shadow King.

Rackhir showed up with Scorch. What was bizarre was that Rackhir flew in riding a griffin. Scorch had probably been flying in a polymorphed form.  I was going to ask where the griffin came from, then thought better of it. While they are well known as difficult beasts and even more difficult mounts, it seemed clearly under Rackhir’s control and there would be little profit in asking the details.  Once we had all arrived (Thorkeld was last since he and his horse had to travel over sea to Greyhawk) we made our plans. The problem of course was how to get to the Land of Black Ice. The obvious route – heading up the Velverdyva river and skirting Lake Quag was also the one that was most heavily guarded by Iuz and his forces. It was the only good way north so it was well fortified.  Heading slightly east around the Vesve forest only took us closer to Iuz and was no better. That left the rather unpleasant route of going through the Yatil’s – which would be a very slow trip but likely the safest.

One other choice was to go west through Ket and around the Yatils then north through Tusmit and Ekbir and come up the coast into the Tiger Nomad territories and then to the Land of Black Ice. This would be well out of Iuz’s reach, but would be a tricky trip in some places. Rackhir comes from the Ungra Balan area and knows the nomads well, having fought a few wars against them. He assures us they do not look well upon strangers. However none of this trip would be particularly safe, so this is the route we chose.  

The morning before we left, I had what would likely be my last warm bath in a while, and enjoyed a quiet meal with Aran’gel. He wasn’t happy that I was going, nor that I was going into such obvious danger, but he didn’t try to stop me. I kissed him again, much like the last time, and he held me for a short time. I tried to make him feel better by telling him that at least on the way home we’d surely be stopping here, and that got a small smile out of him.  He had me take his cloak along as an extra measure, and one which I was glad for, and not just for the warmth.  

It took us a few days to cross the southern end of the Yatil’s. It was arduous travel through the mountains, with winding roads, moving for trade caravans and so on. We saw few people and nothing that wanted to argue with us. Most nights were on the open road, but some were at small inns at trading towns and such.  If we’re going to travel like this, Scorch is going to have to get one of those shelter spells.

Some time in the second week we were coming down onto the plain that Ket sat on and things got easier. But it started snowing heavily.  After several inches the snow gave way to a driving sleet. I was never so glad to have that pair of boots as I was now, as it meant I wasn’t at all cold, nor Rasha. The sleet on the other hand was making everyone except Rackhir miserable. Rackhir seemed to relish it as a taste of home and made no fuss.  But the footing was rough. Then Rackhir heard a wolf baying, the echo coming across the narrow trail. We made for a nearby cave to wait out the storm and hopefully avoid the wolves.

The cave was small, some ten feet high and rather narrow. It went back a fair bit though and we managed to get ourselves and the horses inside, but couldn’t fit the griffin. Rackhir stayed at the entrance with his mount and I stayed there with him, both of us scanning through the sleet for the wolves. 

Sad to say, we were not disappointed. Around the bend of the pass, a wolf came, and no mean wolf this. Rackhir recognized it as a winter wolf, and was adamant that it would certainly not be wishing us well or simply pass us by. It knew where we were even from over fifty paces in the sleet, and was coming towards us. Lacking any other ideas, Rackhir and I drew and fired, and the wolf did not survive our first volley. 

While the others set up a camp and fire to wait out the storm, Rackhir and I stayed up front watching. He was sure the wolf would not be alone, and he was no fool.  Some half an hour later, we heard the sound of stone grinding. Around the bend then came a large boulder rolling in our direction.

It was hard to see more through the sleet but after a moment things became clear. A giant (in this area, frost presumably) was pushing the boulder towards us. He was clearly intent on blocking us in, and using the rock as cover from us as he did so. His bearded face was hardly visible behind the massive rock.

Rackhir and I looked at this, and then looked at each other without a word. We each then looked back towards the giant. I simply said “Hmf” and he just nodded slightly, each of us sharing the same thought – this was going to be a tough shot.

[OOC: The giant had 9/10ths cover and had buffs we didn’t know about. He also had 10% miss chance concealment from the sleet. Rackhir and I nodded approvingly at all of this, since it was going to be a tough shot to make – tougher than any shot we’d tried since the Sunless Citadel. Rackhir landed a critical with his new keen acid burst bow, and we did something like 70 or so points in that one volley. Unhappy giant.]

We each drew and fired a few arrows at the approaching giant. He was smart to be sure hiding behind the rock, but we had put our lives behind our bowstrings for some time now. We each landed two arrows, with more bouncing off the rock. Rackhir even put one deep in the giant’s shoulder and he groaned in pain from the volley, and the rock stopped for a moment. He was clearly not amused.

Neither were we when two more giants stepped out from behind the boulder. Not one giant but now three, and two of them charging across the snow at us.  This was going to be ugly.

One giant took our fire as he charged but this huge creature was only inconvenienced by shots that would have struck a hill giant dead twice over. Our fighters met their charge though and held. Scorch started cackling again, and conjured up an illusion of a red dragon, with smoke and flames, and the second giant turned around and ran. That helped a great deal and we killed the giant in front of us. More baying sounded meaning that a pack of wolves was still closing in.  Scorch started giggling again and tossed a fireball up the pass, and quite a fireball it was. More intense than usual, it charred all the wolves instantly, ending that threat.

Rather than having them come after us later, we bolt from the cave to chase them down.  Rackhir kills the wounded one behind the boulder and we round the bend and see not just the one fleeing giant but two of them. This new one is dressed in furs rather than armor and was probably the one casting spells on his friends.  Both are in full retreat though and we need to be fast to catch them. When I rounded the bend, I took a chance and threw glitterdust, hopign to blind the fleeing mage. Much to my surprise it worked, and he stumbled around before falling off the cliffside. He barely caught himself from falling, and clawed his way up.  Of course he came up into our waiting arms and we killed him quickly.  The last giant got away however, but we hope he will have the good sense not to return.

When the mage fell he dropped a sack into the canyon, which Valanthe was able to retrieve fortunately. In it was a vast array of junk, a few useful items, 107 platinum pieces, a few gems and a crown, and a magic ring and rod.  The ring would cast Alarm. The rod was something rather unusual – a rod of blessed rest, which Dravot is now carrying. At least it meant we didn’t have to cook any more. Scorch identified these items while we stayed in the cave, using spells from “the pool”.  I have no idea what the pool is but I assume is has something to do with the guild. 

The storm passed some hours later and we continued in the morning. Two days later we came out of the mountains and it was merely cold again, as opposed to biting bitter cold.  

Another week of travel with little of interest, save a slaver caravan with slaves in tow.  We discussed the matter briefly but it is legal here, and indeed sometimes the slaves are willing, having sold themselves for a price.  They were not obviously mistreated so we traveled on.

The roads improved and we made better time through Ekbir, though the city itself was little more than a rest stop on the road.  The forest was unusually quiet with nothing but deer on our path. There were no barbarians or random patrols to be seen. On the far side we came to the tundra that was home to the Tiger Nomads.

As we moved northward, we saw occasional patrols, but none of them approached. Indeed they all retreated rather than challenge us. On the third day we came across a farmstead – something we had seen precious little of. The farmer was raising some kind of wooly cattle. He was a plump man on horseback and watched us approach. He hailed us and was fairly friendly. His name was Elwyck and he invited us to spend the night at his house, in exchange for some work. Scorch took it upon himself to remove a stump from the field, polymorphing into various forms until he found one that was suitable.

Dinner was simple fare but warm and flavorful. This man was apparently a priest of Tritherion and this was something of a mission. He was brining the word to the nomads, and had at least learned to get along with them. 

Of course he knew a great deal of what was in the area, including bugbears tot he north, and ice elves. About 20 years ago, something happened up there. Many caravans came through with a strange breed of elf (different from the ice elves I believe). They had white skin and sharp features and amazingly sharp swords – evercuts they were called.  They work for the Egg of Coot. They have been brining things in there for years. There have been tales of abominations in those lands and of caravans and travelers disappearing.  It’s about 100-150 miles to reach the Coot’s lands but we will shortly see the barrier – some kind of fence.

He also heard that some kind of army came up from the south. They ran into the tiger nomads and tore apart a few warbands, and then disappeared into the black ice. This was about two or three weeks past.

From the edge of the glacier, on a dark night, you can see the lights shining out from the Coot’s holdings. Few have seen it as most are killed. Some say by spiders, others say by children.  

We spent a pleasant night there with a fair bed and a warm fire. At this point any bed indoors is a nice one.  In the morning we gave him our thanks and moved onward.

Three days later, the trees turn more sparse and the ground rougher.  The winds have picked up. The ice starts turning a blue-black color and it’s clear there are signs of traffic all over this area including humanoids and wheeled vehicles. It seems that the army from the south was here.  After a few more miles we see the first set of pylons rising up like metallic black trees twenty feet tall. The run off to the east and west as far as we can see like a long perfect line in the ice.  They are made from black metal and are elongated pyramids. All of them are badly damaged – broken, bent, or fallen. The metal is copper or brass but is painted black and while the walls are thick, they are hollow.  It seems like the army attacked and destroyed these obelisks but there is no blood or bodies about.  Just some charred pieces of wood. (Golems?)

After another five miles, we come to another line of obelisks. These, however, are not as perfectly placed, and seem to have been put up more recently. (Perhaps after the army was defeated?)  This set is also magical, unlike it’s broken cousin. We threw a few objects through but it caused no reaction. Valanthe ran though and lightning shot between the two pillars she passed between. She was able to avoid it on foot however. Rackhir determined that the pillars can be flown over.

We have two questions now. First, how will we get the rest of us across, and second, does something now know we are here? Only time will tell.


----------



## WizarDru

Kayleigh neglects to mention that one of the two frost giants had a blur spell active, which certainly helped him, somewhat.  The other frost giant, who was lucky enough to be scared witless by the evil 'booga-booga' illusion from Scorch, was the only one to survive.

They had pretty sound tactics, all things considered.  They just had no idea who they were up against.

Some things got a little short shrift, mostly due to the perspective of the writer.  Elwyck came of as little more than a rest stop, but for Valanthe, he was somewhat more than that.  His large sword bearing the mark of Tritherion hung over the mantle, something of a conversation piece.  Everyone did their share of chores...but Scorch polymorphing into an Umber Hulk to remove a tree trunk (in some twisted parody of Shane) was pretty funny.  That, and the fact that Elwyck KNEW they were coming...since he'd gotten word from on high.  And NOT from Pelor.

Seems more than one god is on their side, for a change. 

Tomorrow night is the next session in the continuing saga.  If things go well, several big suprises will rear their ugly heads (some anticipated and some not).  The Owl will be revealed...sort of.  The players will almost certainly encounter the Dambreaker, and some of the Egg's more devious minions.  As for the Cuckoo...well, time will tell.

Most likely, this will be chapter 2 of 3 for this adventure, as I don't see them finishing this one up real quick.  The final battle alone might be a night, depending.  Join us, won't you?


----------



## Zad

*Divine Wrath - Chapter 2*

*Chapter 2*

*OOC Notes:*

Exp this session is 5225.  

Planning will be key. Also, in reviewing Jozan’s vision, there may be more we have to worry about. The Egg of Coot got reinforcements from Mechanus for when Chavram attacked. (That was the implication at least.) We might have to deal with such forces as well as the others we were told of.

And what does he eat for breakfast? The Eggo of Coot? Hm…. It all fits together….


*This Week’s Adventure:*

We batted about various ways across the lightning barrier. The people were fairly simple – it was the horses that were the issue, mostly involving weight. Eventually we settled on something fairly straightforward. We all stood on one side of the barrier, and Scorch cast a hemispherical force wall across the barrier. We walked through inside the force wall, and then when we were across, the wall was dropped. The lightning shot all around and into the force wall but could not penetrate it.

We decided to move away before anyone came to investigate it. It was slow going across the ice but we continued slogging northward.  Eventually we could see a battlefield ahead that reached for miles. There were corpses frozen to the ground as far as we could see.  When we were two miles away, we could see the area more clearly – it was a shallow valley where the main battle occurred, though the side skirmishes ranged for a long distance to either side.  There were at least 500 corpses in the general area, human and gnoll. All of them were frozen to the ground, and would probably stay that way for centuries. 

We investigated the battle area but it wasn’t long before Valanthe (with her usual fortune) found some kind of mechanical golem in the wreckage of a siege engine. It was missing one arm, and was damaged in some spots, with a barrel like body, spikes on the head, and glowing eyes.

My arrows just bounced off, which was met with no small bit of swearing. Rackhir’s, with more power due to Scorch’s magic, sank in though and did some damage. Scorch tried a lightning bolt but the beast was undamaged, though it did seem to move slower.  Magic missiles simply hit with no effect.  At one point, it pointed its remaining arm at Rackhir, and the arm shot off and exploded near him, knocking him from his feat. Jozan was trying to cut into it with Shatterspike but was having little luck.

Valanthe was skittering around the beast and must have come up with something, because she jumped up on it for a moment and threw something in the gash in its side, then leapt away. The beast exploded violently, catching her in the blast and Jozan as well. 

The thing was destroyed so completely there was not much left to look at. Perhaps it was rigged that way. I wonder if we could somehow force the things to explode with a fire arrow if it would penetrate the armor. Scorch theorized that they were some variant of an iron golem, which would mean most spells would be ineffective.

Having disposed of that, we continued looking around, wary of any other “survivors”.  The army that came from the south was clearly under Chavram’s command. And they seem to have lost. The humans were mercenaries and some forces from the North Kingdom. 

Interestingly, there is not a single bit of metal left on the battlefield. Every scrap has been scavenged. Probably by the Egg’s forces, since you could not mine metal up here. Also, some wood has been scavenged but not nearly as methodically as the metal was.

Dravot tells us that a blizzard is rolling in, and we need to do something to prepare. Scorch comes up with a Secure Shelter spell, and that creates a large, warm dome for us to take shelter in. We camp in a somewhat sheltered spot against a wall and get ready for the storm. 

The spell was wonderful. For the most part it stayed warm enough to be called normal. At night the temperature dipped a bit but was not nearly as bad as the weeks of arctic travel have been. The snow piled up and soon there was three feet on the ground.

That day in the late afternoon, across the valley I saw a bunch of bodies fly fifteen feet into the air, and the crest of some beast pop up and then disappear under the snow and ground. The ground beneath us was shaking with the presence of whatever this thing was.  Further north there was a large crushing noise.  Over the next few minutes we got more glimpses of these things – huge worms or centipedes with large mandibles in front. They were larger even than Nightscale was. And there were two of them – likely a mated pair. Nothing that big would be so indifferent about another thing that big unless they were known to each other. They made a shrill shrieking noise that echoed off the low valley and rattled everyone.

Fighting these things would have been very bad for us. We were secluded under three feet of snow in the shelter, and if we stayed still perhaps these things would simply pass us by. Jozan moved to calm the horses, who were becoming agitated by the shrieking but otherwise we stayed as still as possible.  The beasts were tearing through the ice and snow, eating the scattered bodies in a feeding frenzy. One was getting closer and would pass very near to where we were. But we tried to sit still and prayed it would pass us by.

As it got close the shrieking became intolerable and I just froze with the sound echoing in my ears. The worm smashed through the wall not more than twenty feet away, and was at least a hundred feet long. But soon it was gone, and we were, for the moment, safe.

At night, Jozan tried to find the woman he saw in Pelor’s vision in her dreams. He told us that he did find her, and she was having a dream/nightmare about mining isometril, and that it seemed to be making her sick. She said the humans are kept in pens and go to the mines. She also mentioned the dolls and the scavengers. She also said the Cuckoo plays music but was so put off by just thinking about it that she could not go on more than that.

Two more feet of snow fell before the storm lifted but then the winds picked up to nearly a gale. We decided to wait another day before moving. Fortunately the following day was a better and we set out. The wind had moved a lot of the snow, and once out of the valley it was only about two feet deep, which the horses could manage. In some ways it gave them better traction on the glacier.  As we moved past the north edge of the battlefield, we saw some bugbears, but with light blue fur instead of the usual variety.  There was a small amount of metal on them however, which was rather odd.

After some more travel northward, we reached a point where we either headed into higher, rockier terrain, or headed downward into a series of ravines and crevasses.  We chose to go down, to keep a lower profile.

It wasn’t long before things got more interesting. Around a bend ahead came a halfling riding hard on a small horse, with two children with him. He had some kind of huge hammer strapped to his back, and was riding for his life.  The horse buckled and they all went flying however. He yelled at them to keep running and was taking out the hammer as he did. By this time we were already riding towards them.

Then around the bend came some type of black chitinous insect made of metal. They were small things and their undersides had something odd or exposed beneath them.  

I had a sinking feeling about what they were, but couldn’t be sure. As we rode up, I fired a single arrow at one of the insects. It hit true, but with the crunch of the metal I heard a pained scream and that settled it. These were probably the marionettes that were mentioned in the vision, which meant there were children in them. I don’t know how I guessed that but I was sure that anything like a fireball would be out of the question. 

The halfling had started fumbling with the over-large hammer doing something to it. My companions had already scooped up the children and were riding back, and I reached down for the halfling. I hauled him on to my horse but with the weight of the hammer he nearly went flying off the other side. Fortunately I managed to get him seated and we charged away from the spiders. Whoever he was, he had no shortage of cursing to be done about the entire matter.

We needed something to buy us time to get away and Scorch supplied another wall of force. It reached across the ravine and brought the insects up short. Soon they’d realize they could climb around it but for the moment they were stopped and we made good use of the time.  

He said his name was Haldrin Dambreaker and it was his chosen purpose on life to swear and curse about everything. After a few hundred feet he told us to stop and he could delay the marionettes. He hopped down and hammered a spike into the ground that had some kind of crystal on top of it. He moved parts of the spike and it began to pulsate with a thrumming sound.  He put the hammer back on his back, and knocked himself over. Then he got back up and back on my horse. Naturally there was swearing that went along with this too.

He said that it would disorient them for a minute or so and that should give us enough time to get away.  It was then that I noticed that on his leather armor was Tritherion’s symbol. He also seemed to give each of us the eye and Jozan thought he might be detecting evil.

Haldrin lead us up and down various plateaus in an overly complicated route to what he called “the roost”.  He struck me as having a rather sour outlook and cursed everything, even us who had probably just saved his life. I made it a point to let him know when he was being overly rude and he seemed to acknowledge this, even if he was still cursing in the process.  When we reached a secluded cave we went in, and this brought a new round of cursing.

“They changed the $&*(!@# protections and I can’t get in.”  Apparently a message was left via some seemingly random rocks, and that told him that the wards had been altered. Valanthe however managed to bypass these and a rock slid aside revealing a rough hewn stairway heading underground.

After several caves and chambers, some holding sleeping areas, some growing fungus and foods, and one holding shallow graves, we reach an area with many pallets, and just as many sick and dying people.  At one end is a gnome, who was tending someone. She didn’t even turn before addressing Haldrin in a stern, quiet voice saying “I thought I told you not to go off without talking to me first Haldrin.” And she proceeded to chew him out from there.

This of course did nothing to brighten Haldrin’s disposition. The gnome was late middle aged and very thin.  

After the introductions are made, Dravot, Thorkeld, and Jozan turn their attentions to the sick people. They are all poisoned from the isometril they were mining, and the condition is usually fatal.  However they are able to cure the most critical cases, and heal and buy time for the less dire victims. Between the healing and the hearty meal provided by Dravot via that rod we found, the people there looked upon them as nothing short of saviors.

After this was done, we withdrew to another cave that seemed to be where the Owl (as she was introduced) lived, and we got down to the business of learning more about what was going on here. She had indeed had a vision from Pelor that someone was coming but had little more warning than that.

The black insects were indeed the marionettes and are one of the Egg’s fiendish creations. They take children, usually human, and put them inside. They use the children as an energy source. If they choose to, they can eject the child, which is usually after the child has been killed. When attacked, the marionette can pass some of the damage on to the child. The Owl has developed a way to disorient the marionettes for a short while using some isometril.

The Egg of Coot is her brother. There was a small village up in this land, small but thriving. They discovered the vein of isometril and they began to study it, along with the town wizard Venn.  Eventually, interested parties began to show up. The ore . . . changed her brother and Venn.  Her brother starting having episodes and suffering from exposure to the isometril, so he made the egg to protect him. He kept layering more devices on top of the egg as he went. As far as she knows, he has not left the egg since he made it though. They are now inseparable. He does not even acknowledge his real name now. 

Then he began making golems out of isometril, and with some vitaesis crystals.  He started making deals with other powerful entities. Many of the villagers left and ran as far as they could. Those who didn’t were captured and experimented upon.  The owl and Venn escaped here, and try to rescue as many as they can.

Over the years, the Egg and Iuz have fought on several occasions. The Egg first learned of Iuz’s conquest to the south and sent the battle dolls. Iuz retreated but the Egg’s forces captured some kind of device and took it back to the crèche. From the description, it matched the cylinder that Jozan saw in his dream that contained a woman. The Egg had limited forces though, and sent groups south to capture more people to work for him. The Owl and her people try to save who they can but it’s not very effective.

The Roost is 50 miles south of the slave pens. The mines are 25 miles north of that, where the slaves are taken each day, and the refinery is there as well. Another 10 miles north is the creche and the puppet theatre, where the Egg resides.  

As for his army, there are fourty to eighty of the elves working for the Egg of Coot. There are at least a dozen golems of the type we fought – they stay close to the Egg. Also there are the Scavengers, giant snow cats made of metal who hunt metal and can drain the magic from items – there are at least a half dozen of these. As for marionettes, there are one or two hundred of them.

The golems are powered by vitaesis gems. The marionettes get their energy from the children of course.

The Cuckoo is his masterwork – you might call it his child.  Nobody has seen it and lived, except perhaps Venn. It has taken people. It’s like a threat they use to make people behave – obey or the Cuckoo will come for you.

She has a limited number of the disorientation devices and could spare one if we needed it. We all agreed that Scorch should take a look at her notes and process to see what more can be done.

We began to plan out how to handle the situation. On one hand we could strike deep and try to take out the Egg of Coot himself. On the other we could attack the various locations and destroy his forces – a slower but less risky approach. In either case we were concerned about the marionettes, which we could not simply destroy without killing the children.  Our first concern seems to be capturing some of them so that we can determine more about how they work and if we can force them to release the children they contain.

The Owl mentioned one other disturbing thing – that teleportation in or out of the Coot’s lands did not work. We were disturbed by this as we were cut off now from returning to Greyhawk for supplies or in the event of a death. Also the scales, while functional between us, could not contact Lord Gelban. We were on our own for this.


----------



## WizarDru

*Quick Clarification*

Great writeups, as usual. 

Venh and the Egg both began suffering from Isometril Poisoning fairly early on, but Venh's current condition was not the result of the physical damage wrought by the long-term exposure to Isometril.


----------



## Zad

We didn't actually get to talk to Vehn, and the Owl wasn't very clear on his exact condition so that was vague to me when I wrote it up.

I checked the listing on Frost Wurms. Oh my god. I'm so glad we're smart enough to know when to just wait and hope we don't get eaten. That would have been a disaster if we'd have fought them.


----------



## WizarDru

Zad said:
			
		

> *We didn't actually get to talk to Vehn, and the Owl wasn't very clear on his exact condition so that was vague to me when I wrote it up. *




She was intentionally being vague, so that's no suprise.  Vehn's current state is due to his sacrificing himself to save her.  It weighs heavy on her soul.



> *I checked the listing on Frost Wurms. Oh my god. I'm so glad we're smart enough to know when to just wait and hope we don't get eaten. That would have been a disaster if we'd have fought them. *




That probably would have been a bad time to learn about the Teleport Block.


----------



## Valanthe the Sleepless

*Valanthe's Journal - What about the children?*

Once the group settles down in the 'Roost', Valanthe disappears to find a secluded spot.

In a few seconds, Verilunda appears...

Valanthe rolls her eyes and sighs, "Okay, okay, before you chastise me any more, I am sorry about catching Aerythmir in the blast. I didn't mean to and it was rather reckless on my part. Well, I sometimes am a little reckless, but I try to make sure others are not involved in my follies.

Anyway, have you been able to relay my message to the Princes about possibly getting some extra crystals to help fight these mechanical monstrosities? And, um, any way I can get a replacement for mine since it kind exploded?"

Val looks at Verilunda sheepishly.

"Yes, well, I'm more calm, now.  Honestly, girl, what were you thinking? Never mind, I know exactly what you were thinking.  I might have done the same thing, once.  But do that again and I'll personally haunt your spirit wherever it ends up.

"I'm trying to get some vitaesis gems, but the only ones they have direct access to are Jade and Opal.  I can get you two of each, but it'll take me a few days.  Something's making it somewhat difficult to maintain contact with you, but I can get around it. Try not to get killed before I do."

Before she disappears, Val can hear her mutter something about now knowing she's defintely been around you too long.

Afterwards, Val spends a few moments trying to sort out all we have found out lately. She is really agitated about the Coot and using children as weapons, but this is on such a grand scale and feels a little lost as to what she can really do about it. She decides she’ll have a "discussion" with the Summoner.

"Um, hey, it’s Valanthe, you listening? Anywho, I know you know what's going on, as I see there's a few of your followers around. But this has really taken a might ugly turn now. I mean, it's one thing to use innocents for foul plans, but kids? Oooo, it just burns me up to see that, and so many of them too." Val turns and punches the nearest wall.

"I am not begging or anything mind you, but I could use a little direction here - it all seems so large to just our small group and heck knows how the Owl and her group have been managing. Maybe you could point me in the right direction?  A small sign or something as to what I am supposed to do, ya know? I mean, so far I figure if we can get some more Vitaesis gems, we could take out the big iron golem-like constructs. And I am confident I could sneak into the Coots place and cause some havok, but what about all the kids in those things, those ‘marionettes’ I think they were called? It just ain't right, dammit!"

*sigh*  "Anyway, just thought I'd see if you were keeping an eye on things here. Now, don't expect this from me normally you know. And you'd better not tell Ardestor about this. Heck knows I'll never hear the end of it."


For a moment, nothing happens.  Then from somewhere in the distance, as if from somewhere deep in the caves below, a voice echoes up to Valanthe.

"The Nomads have a saying: 'After the avalanche, ask the bears the way home.'

The Flan had a saying: 'Any fool can swim in a river...how many can swim in a desert?'

The elves have a saying, too: 'Nothing, absolutely nothing is as bad after a nice warm bath.'  I'm told it sounds very elegant when said in Elvish."

"The Summoner would see the Coot destroyed, but the safety of the victims must take precedence.  The children can be saved. They just need a nice, warm bath."

With that, the curious voice fades.


[edit - this was to post the prelude to the puzzling comments I had posted earlier. Is this better guys?]


----------



## Zad

> But isn't the prevailing opinion in the party that most cosmic powers are jerks? I'm just saying, is all.




/gameshow

Hm. I'd have to go with "Yes" for that one.

ding ding ding Circle gets the square!


Gee, let's take a look at the various cosmic powers we've seen:

Vecna and his groupies, the evil Vecnids of Drua - these guys are the high school garden club run amok. Tried to ambush (ar ar ar) and kill us several times.

Iuz - oh yeah. Voted Mister Personality and "Most likely to terrorize the Flaness" in the recent Greyhawk Today poll. He's a fun guy to have at parties. You know that whole road of skulls thing? That was actually the sub-contractor's idea. Iuz didn't learn about it til later but he loved it.

Therizdun - This little guy needs to switch to decaf. Hey here's a whacky idea - let's destroy the world! Bzzzt wrong answer, take your damn rice-a-roni and go the hell home. If ever there was a case for Flintstones chewable Ritalin, here it is.

Ralishaz - Here's a guy in need of a come-back tour. Bannanna Split Fleegle has more name recognition that this guy. They told him "Publish or perish" but he just didn't feel like writing. Of course now he has a new one-act play and stunt show named Valanthe.

Pelor - Yeah, he blows sunshine out his ass, but you can forgive that. God of nice goody goody things. Then one day he picks up the phone "Dravot! Jozan! Thorkeld! Babes! I got a problem - need some of my people freed and their opressor punished. Gotta go, we'll do lunch. Love ya! And I mean that. Ciao."

Ok Mister sweetness and light - time to wake up and smell the double latte - where the hell were you when all this got started?!? These folks have been having their souls slowly squished out their ears for a couple decades, and only now you make space for them in your DayTimer?  I guess when you're a cosmic power, you don't loose points for handing in your assignment late.

Tritherion - Caught this guy on his cell the other day said "Hon, I got kids caught in robots. Can I get a little of the 411 on what you want done about this"  He comes back with "They need a bath." I wasn't sure if he was talking to me or his poodle's vet. Yeah I'm sure they're kinda dirty and greasy inside that thing, and I don't even want to think if they get bathroom breaks, but how about something with a few more action items in it.

Sehanine - Gotta give this classy lady some credit. She's never asked for anything, and she's provided useful information, if vague in that typically god-like way. But that's union rules for you. She's the exception that proves the rule.

Chavram - not a cosmic power but he's up two on this week's Billboard chart and the wannabe who's name is on everyone's lips.  My family acts like a bunch of zombies sometimes too but I don't take it so damn literally.

Gee did I miss anyone? Because Dennis Miller wants his soul back.


By the way folks, we're playing tonight.


----------



## WizarDru

You forgot '_you gotta pretty mouth_' Olidamarra.


----------



## Valanthe the Sleepless

WizarDru said:
			
		

> *You forgot 'you gotta pretty mouth' Olidamarra.  *





Huh??? Where did we run into him? When has he been invloved?


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## Zad

> You forgot 'you gotta pretty mouth' Olidamarra




Ask yourself this: "Did Zad simply forget to mention Ollidamarra, or did he remeber it full well and purposefully omit it so as not to draw attention to it or remind the DM of it?"


----------



## WizarDru

Hey, just because Olidamarra hasn't been dropping by for tea doesn't mean he/she/it hasn't been involved.  To quote Winne the Pooh, "You never can tell, with bees."

You're getting sneaky in your old age. 

Now as to Pelor and Tritherion...well, there's more to that story.


----------



## Zad

> You're getting sneaky in your old age.




I prefer to think of it as "wise", or at the least "with a better sense of what's good for me."



> Now as to Pelor and Tritherion...well, there's more to that story




Yeah well until I come back to my desk and find a pink "While you were out....Pelor called" slip, I'm just gonna have to figure the big guy was too busy basking on the beach in his own glory and knocking back double collins to hear the cries of the people. So now he sends us in to clean up the mess. At least Gelban pays well when he sends us to our dooms.

Frankly I'm more concerned with the after-effects. But I'm scared to say more.


----------



## Zad

*Divine Wrath - Chapter 3*

*Chapter 3 – Said the spider to the fly*

*OOC Notes:*

Exp this session is 2713.

Good session. We had objectives, came up with a plan, and executed it. Dylan mentioned this and I agree – it’s nice to feel like we’re calling the shots for a change. I’m sure it won’t last tho.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

We had a series of discussions about what to do next. We also took several breaks so that Aethramyr and Dravot could tend to the people here, as well as just reflect on our own.

The whole time, something had been nagging at me, related to the matter at hand, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Hopefully it would come later.

After one break Valanthe reporting having received something of a message from Tritherion, who said something about an elven saying about nothing seems as bad after a warm bath (which I immediately repeated and then again in elven for the full effect, it being something of word to live by for me).  This raised questions about the marionettes and perhaps water being able to release the children. And this brought us back to more discussions about what next.

Then it finally hit me what had been bothering me. Iuz had presumably wanted the isometril, and had attacked the Coot’s lands in the past to get it. Chavram certainly wanted it, and had attacked in force recently. In each case the Coot’s forces prevented them from getting control of the mine.

If we destroy the Egg of Coot, what will stop Chavram or Iuz from getting to the isometril?

This was a very disturbing thought – the notion of Chavram with access to all that material was troubling to say the least. I shared this thought with Dravot who looked rather horrified when I mentioned it, but of course he had no more idea than I did. For the time being we set this aside and went back to discussing more immediate concerns.

We were all agreed that our deepest concern was the marionettes – or more particularly the children inside. Until we understood more about them and how to disable them and release the children safely, we would not be able to attack in force. So it seemed the first thing we needed to do was capture some marionettes intact and see what could be done.  We made provisions for a safe cave to take them so that Scorch could examine them, and we were discussing ways of getting a hot bath set up, in the event that Tritherion was to be taken literally.  The Owl told us of hot springs some miles away, near an active volcano. This would simplify the hot water problem.

The volcano was guarded by a druid named Agner – one of Haldrin’s original group. The pieces slowly came together that we are apparently not the first band of adventurers that the gods dispatched to attack the Egg of Coot. Haldrin’s band was shattered, with several of their group killed. The druid now guards the area near the volcano but Haldrin could not say if he would be helpful or not. (This troubled me and I feared there was bad blood between them.)

It was a risk we decided to take. We would use the one disruption device available to us to ambush a small patrol of marionettes. We would tie them up and use some Tenser’s disks to move them quickly out of the area, and examine them in safety. (A web spell would seem to be even better, however apparently the marionettes, like the spiders they resemble, can navigate webs freely.)

Before that though, Dravot and Aethramyr wanted to speak to Venn.  He was kept in a locked room and while being quite insane now, he had clearly been a powerful wizard in the past.  Dravot and Scorch believe he is suffering from some kind of curse, and will attempt to remove it the next day.  There being little else they can do for him, they leave him be.

That night, Aethramyr looked in on Venn’s dreams. There were bizarre blackened people encased in skeletons of copper and brass. The people sounded vaguely like bodaks to Dravot, but the skeletons were a mystery. I had no idea what a bodak was, but Dravot said their gaze can kill.

I had an unusual night myself. I was dreaming and remembering Tongs and that wondrous flight across the Flanness. I remembered her saying “I pity your not having wings, children. You can cast your spells to fly, but it's not a part of you. There's no joy in it, sure enough.”  And I thought to myself at the time “I can’t even do that much, but it would be grand enough to take to the sky even with that.” Then I was home again, but flying through trees and woods under my own power. Tongs was wrong – there was joy in it, wings or no. 

This was not terribly unusual in itself – I had dreamt of flying before. What was unusual was when I woke up – I realized I understood now. I knew how the spell worked. I knew how to fly.

Dravot and Scorch tried each to remove the curse on Venn’s mind, but it was too powerful for them. They resolved to combine their efforts the next day and try again.

We set out in the direction of the hot springs in the morning. Haldrin knew of a suitable ambush spot to capture a patrol. Apparently they do not patrol on a regular schedule so we could be waiting for some time. Luck was with us however and an hour after we arrived, a patrol of five of the metal beasts came down the canyon.

We sat in hiding – the stealthy of us below in the canyon while the others waited fifty feet above.  When the marionettes were close enough, Valanthe activated the device, and four of the marionettes began twitching and blinking oddly.

One of them still had its wits about it and began firing magic missiles from a small box on its back. But we surrounded and quickly subdued it, and we had all the marionettes tied up and chained well before the others recovered their senses.  Their jointed legs moved in unusual ways but it was still easy enough to tie them up so they could do nothing.  One other marionette was unusual – this one had an isometril crystal on a small rod sticking out of its back. The crystal pulsed at regular intervals. We wondered if it was some kind of communication device but for now, things were under control and we left the area and went to the volcano.

The volcano was hard to miss, and there were small melted areas and warm water near steam vents and so on. As we picked our way through the soft spots in the ground, we saw a large-ish pool ahead. This was only interesting because two massive paws just came out of it. 

The paws were followed by a large head, and an even larger body. Soaking wet, this massive white bear looked over at us. It then started trotting our way. Half way over it seemed to think of something, and stopped and shook itself off, water flying everywhere. Personally I was glad it remembered to do this before it got to us. Must have been smarter than the average bear.

Then it looked over at us, and asked who we were.

I have noticed that I’m becoming more inured to the strange and fantastic of late – continued adventuring tends to do that. But even so, I still simply stood agape at a talking bear.  I managed to collect myself after a moment and realized it must be the druid who had simply changed shape.

We started a conversation and told him why we had come. He seemed a bit puzzled at the whole thing. But it wasn’t until I called him Agner that things made more sense. He wasn’t Agner. He was a bear. A smart bear. A talking bear. But still a bear.

He referred to Agner as the master, so it seemed this was some kind of companion animal. Aethramyr spoke to him a bit and convinced him to take us to see Agner (I believe some exchange of chocolate was involved, which improved relations with the bear markedly.)

Agner was in a cave in the volcano base, in which were many hot springs. He was wary of us but seemed amenable to our basic purpose. Scorch and Valanthe began examining the marionettes in earnest while Aethramyr and I put one into one of the springs.

It didn’t work. Didn’t even come close. Well, if a deity send a clear and simple message on this subject, it would have been a first. So we removed the contraption and let Scorch and Valanthe do their work.

The children were held in by a thin webbing of mithril. There was a locking mechanism that could be opened with a knock spell. Valanthe also managed to jury rig a key of sorts that would release the child. Dravot also tried a greater command to die. This would cause them to eject the child (thinking it was dead) and in some cases would paralyze the marionette for a time. 

The difficulty came in dealing with the one with the crystal. Valanthe attempted to remove the crystal but it triggered some kind of signal. Scorch quickly cast a misdirection on it, and it likely saved us a great deal of trouble. Soon after, something large hit the ground in the area where we had set the ambush. We did not investigate further though.

Agner had some interesting things to say regarding who he called the Green Woman. He was the reason he came here – to rescue her. She was tied to the land and the land to her. If she suffers, so does the land, and great power can be drawn from the land through her.  It seemed clear that this was Ravenna, adding yet another layer to this mystery.  Agner said that he wished to rescue her and set her free. Once that was done, he would seal the wound in the land (the strip mine). He said the volcano would help him in this.

There was the answer on how to protect the isometril. If we defeat the Egg and his minions, Agner would seal off the mine. I was greatly relieved to hear this, as it solved a rather large problem.

Apparently the spring also had some healing properties – when the children were released from the marionettes, they were in none-too-good shape. The spring was able to restore them to health and make them fit to travel back to the Roost.

Agner had also been to the south encampment where the slaves are kept.  There are eight or nine hundred humans, halflings and elves being held there. They are kept in deep trenches – not horribly secure but they do not need to be.  The sharp elves make regular patrols. There are sorcerers among their number.  Three shifts are transported to the mines each day via an underground tunnel system. Their group was going through this tunnel when one of the battle dolls found them. The disruption devices from the Owl worked on one of the golems but the large black spider-like ones ignored it completely.  The mage was turned into a statue, while the cleric was frozen solid.

They also saw a cuckoo (but probably not THE cuckoo). He was ten or fifteen feet tall – they saw him pull a man inside. He was like a series of cylinders with a cylinder surrounded by four pods that hovered off the ground. It had different faces and played music. The music had panicked the cleric.

They also fought the sharp elves. At range they are not too terrible but up close, there is some type of confusion effect.  They are likely from one of the outer planes. 

We concluded our study and left Agner and the volcano and made haste back to the roost. Scorch and Valanthe took the marionette parts back to the other separate cave to continue their work. On the way back, Rackhir from his griffon could see a gigantic spider-like metal beast at the ambush site. It seems that this was what fell from the sky, and it seemed very nasty indeed. We were fortunate that Scorch was as quick as he was, or we would have had more than we bargained for.

The Owl seemed pleased at our success, and took care of the children. The information we gained would of course prove invaluable to us. The net result seemed to be that we could release the children in several ways, and that we could do so reasonably quickly. Valanthe made several master keys so that we had plenty on hand.

One disturbing element Scorch uncovered was in the heads of the little beasts. Apparently there was a second source of energy for these things besides the children – it was a few strands of black hair. The implications were so obvious they didn’t need to be explained.

We now had the question of what to do next. We still needed to be sure we could neutralize large numbers of marionettes, and for that we needed isometril. Scorch said he could be more efficient with the small supply the Owl had but that would still not be enough for the scale we needed. So our next step would be to raid the mines for a supply of isometril and to further assess the defenses of the Egg.

Before we left the next morning, Dravot and Scorch again tried to cure Venn. This time, together, they were successful. Venn regained much of his sanity, though he would never be his former self. 

We set out over the ice. We could go through the tunnels but we believed it would be less obvious to go over land.  We found the mine easily enough with Haldrin leading. It was a series of pits in the earth, each one deeper yet smaller across than the last. There were frequent patrols – a group of sharp elves, each with several fighters, one larger fighter, and what we thought was a sorcerer. Each group was trailed by some kind of crystal golem with glowing blue eyes.  We managed to slip between two patrols and get close to a building that housed the refinery.

Outside there were two huge metal eggs. We weren’t sure what their purpose was, but they could have been some kind of guardian. There were also alarm spells laid down but Aethramyr dispelled one and we slipped past.  

We reached the refinery door and began slipping inside. Valanthe was inside looking around and I had just walked through when Thorkeld turned suddenly and ran right into Aethramyr’s shield, making enough noise to wake up Iuz. Iuz was not the problem however – the two eggs were. They heard the noise and started unfolding arms and legs. They were mechanical guardians but different from the kind we saw on the battle field.

Well, this would be the time we started gauging the defenses. While Valanthe gathered some ore, we worked quickly to take out the golems. These were not quite as stubborn as the broken one we saw on the battlefield though, and we were able to disable them fairly quickly. Fortunately Dravot was kind enough to enchant up some arrows for me, and they worked perfectly well against the golems.  They seemed undamaged by the fire on the arrows, but it did do something. I’m just not sure what.

Valanthe told us that there were three sharp elves inside. Once the golems were gone we went in to deal with them. I knew they were waiting for a target but took the risk and stepped out from behind cover to see how much of a threat they were. They all fired at me, but between my shield spell and my other protections, none of the arrows found me. I was about to fire back, but Dravot moved where he could see them, and brought a massive pillar of fire down on them. There was nothing left but ash, and he muttered something about Pelor’s wrath.

Scorch had thrown a mass haste, so this was our chance. We split up to gather both the unrefined ore, and the refined ore that was in another container nearby. We spent a few moments grabbing all we could then got out – the patrols were all coming our way, having heard all the noise, so we had to leave quickly.  

Fortunately they were careful and hence in no hurry to engage us without sufficient numbers.  As they closed in Scorch threw a fireball behind us, but one of their sorcerers counterspelled it. After that they were even more cautious and had the crystal golems advancing in front. But we were able to outdistance them while the haste lasted and they were not anxious to pursue this unknown force into an ambush.  We carefully returned to the Roost with our new cache of ore, and Scorch set to work examining it.

This ore may well be the key to our next move.


----------



## Zad

[Edit: This was a reply to a question a reader asked]

Sure thing. 

Rackhir was married to Ravenna. Iuz kidnapped Ravenna for unknown reasons and replced her with a demon who did nasty things.

It seems clear now that Ravenna is the Green Woman that the druid mentioned, and that she was captured by the Egg of Coot in a skirmish with Iuz. Ravenna is tied to the land. If you have captured her, you can drain the strength from the land.

The fact that the backup power source of the marionettes is a few strands of black hair imply that it's Ravenna's hair, and that The Egg is using her as some kind of power source, and draining the energy from the lands she is tied to.


----------



## Zad

Well, gee I missed most of all this fun discussion yesterday. Most of what I would have said was covered by Wizardru or someone else.  He is correct in pointing out that while Dravot had a happy joyous experience during his "dead time", Kayleigh did not. It was confusing, and oddly disturbing at the same time.

The thing it comes down to is this: we've got well developed characters with attitudes and ways of doing things. And we got to a point where, in character, most of us had enough. From where we were, and with the information we had, we thought it would be reckless to keep going, so we stopped. In character, there is no "module", no "final battle", no "let's finish this adventure". 

That said, after we had decided for good to walk away, Wizardru let us look at the module and told us what was waiting for us. I don't give a crap if we're 2 characters over the party-of-four that modules are designed for, we would still have gotten wiped out. I'm firmly convinced that we would have been lucky to have a single character survive. It's insane. 

And Wizardru is right about something else - we can dish it out, but we can't take it very well. We're getting better - after last adventure most people worked on defensive skills/items/feats. But with the extremes of Gulthias' offense available, we would either die, or Wizardru would have to take a dive, and that's hard to cover up.

I was the first one to say "We are done here." If I had the choice to make again, I'd do it again. In character, the cost was too high for the way our folks had mentally evolved. 

Of course, being the first to die, and just because of one failed roll, I was not personally a happy camper. Dravot and I were both close to leveling and lost a ton of exp. While it's not an in-character concern, the fact that I lost over 8000xp certainly did not make me a happy player.

D&D comes in lots of different flavors and campaigns have lots of different tones. This is how ours is, and most of us are good with it. Nothing wrong with people being used to different things - that's part of what makes it fun. But personally I like our game and the tone and I know some of the others will agree.

All that said, I'm still pleased you're enjoying the story. Wizardru puts a lot of work into the game, the players all put work into their characters, and yeah, I put a lot of work into writing it (as do others), so I'm glad you're enjoying it.

Other bits:

Wizardru said



> I don't think anyone believes that Gulthias was the power behind the spire...not for a minute. In point of fact, though I'm not sure it's in the Story Hour write-ups, Gelban confessed this fact to the party at one point, and pointed to several pieces of evidence as his reasons.




Yes it's in there. 



> I also asked what went wrong. Had the Council overestimated us, or underestimated Gulthias, or both? He told me that Gulthias was much stronger than had been anticipated, and he had access to resources that had not been known. Who made the golems for instance? Some of them had girallon parts but Gulthias had shown no talent for the creation of such things. Where did they come from? Many questions remain but there was something more at work, and it cost us dearly.





Then there's this little gem:



> As for dying: two points. One, only Dravot had a pleasant post-death experience....Kayleigh had a confusing one, and never left the Prime Material *(although she would have, eventually...but someone else had plans for her).*




(emphasis mine)

/sigh. Anyone need any dread? I seem to be filled with it.


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## Valanthe the Sleepless

MasterOfHeaven said:
			
		

> *
> PS
> 
> So, since you're the player of Valanthe, what do you think of the fact that now that you've finally left Nightfang Spire, the opponents you face are now Constructs?  Are you ever going to be able to use the Sneak Attack ability?   *





Granted, I'm no fighter, and while sneak attacking is a big way for me to deal damage (sword of subtlety + my 5d6 sneak att.), it's by no means the only thing my character does. I'm a rogue9/shadowdancer4. My main things are that you can't see me, hear me, and won't know I'm there until after the damage to whatever you are doing is done. If it's direct damage, you can't hit me. While fighter is all about the feats and damage, I am all about the skills and how can I screw the villians in other ways.

For more of a look at us, you can check out most of our characters on the Rogue's Gallery...

http://www.enworld.org/messageboards/showthread.php?s=&threadid=411 

And thanks for reading and enjoying our stories ^_^


----------



## WizarDru

Oh, the carnage.  The coot's forces felt the wrath of our heroes, and it was a mighty wrath, indeed.  Some disturbing discoveries certainly brought out the desire to lay the smack most assuredly down upon the vile fiend and his otherworldly servants.

But the final battle has yet to be fought, and the Cuckoo has yet to sing.  

And the darkest secret of all (at least, to some group members) has yet to be revealed.


----------



## Zad

*Divine Wrath - Chapter 4*

*Chapter 4 – The Tangled Web*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience is 3600

*This Week’s Adventure:*

The next few days brought a blizzard and time for study.  Scorch and the Owl spent most of their time in what he referred to as “The Lab”. It bore a striking resemblance to “a cave” but then so did the dining hall and the kitchen and the sleeping area. Since there was little else to do, I tried to help them where I could. I have no talent for alchemy but my magical knowledge meant I had at least some edge.  

The Isometril apparently dampens or refracts energy fields, including magical ones. If you bind it with a natural magical generator in the right way, it amplifies the ability of that generator. Hence the alloy with the vitaesis. When we had decided to steal some of the isometril, I had no idea what it would lead to.

Our first problem showed up the next day – some of the isometril was missing. It was only a pound or two, but Scorch is, among other things, exacting, and was sure there was some ore missing. We ordered the Roost sealed and began searching. Valanthe began exploring some lesser-used caves in the network while Scorch and I pondered another solution – isometril gave off something. It made people sick among other things. So we wondered if we could create a detector that would reveal the presence of the ore. Scorch and the Owl set to it and had one working in short order and we swept through the caves with it looking for the rogue ore.

While they were building, Valanthe came across a part of the golem that she had exploded at the battlefield – I assume the Owl’s forces salvaged it and brought it here.  She looked it over carefully and could see that it seemed to be drawing material towards it – loose rocks, pebbles, anything nearby. Still imbedded in it from the explosion was fragments of her vitaesis crystal. The crystal was glowing slightly, and Valanthe had the distinct impression that the golem was trying to slowly reconstitute itself, powered by the new crystal.

She removed the remaining fragments of the crystal, and the golem seemed to revert to total inactivity. She also believed the ore had somehow been drawn here by the golem, although I can’t imagine it reaching through all those caves and taking just that much ore.  There was the possibility that someone was helping it for reasons unknown.

So with that in mind, the detector was completed and we began sweeping the caves. This lead us to two very disturbing discoveries.

The first was that there was isometril in Venn’s room, seemingly on or inside of Venn. Venn had recovered some of his wits but was still far from himself. In order to determine if he was under some kind of control, we drugged his food and he fell to sleep. Then Dravot examined him carefully and found a crude scar at the base of his spine, where something had been forcefully inserted.  Dravot was able to remove it – it was a piece of fashioned isometril. Scorch examined it and the answers soon fell into place. Much like the marionettes interfaced with the children, some other creation uses this to interface with a grown person.  Our belief was that the creatures that Aethramyr saw in his dream – the bodaks in the metal skeletons – were part of it, and that this was the link between the bodak and the skeleton.

Scorch learned a great deal from the device, and said that the interference devices we had would not affect them, however he could create a device that would disrupt these. He fashioned over a dozen of them the next day, and we attached some of the small devices to arrows for easy delivery.

Once Venn awoke, he was feeling much better with the object gone. He was not fully his old self, but he was much closer, and grateful for what we did. He was also able to provide more information about the isometril and its properties to help Scorch further.

They had examined the interactions of isometril and three different types of vitaesis – jade, diamond, and onyxAll the gems seemed to have a moral or ethical alignment to them, according to his colleagues in Greyhawk. He found the onyx very difficult to handle and work with, compared to the diamond or jade. Onyx seems to stop energy from pathing, while the jade seems to have some kind of enhancement or protective ability. The paladin blades might be an opal alloy.

It only takes a very small amount of vitaesis to alloy with a large amount of isometril. Using mithril you can stretch the mix even further.

I mentioned that we made two disturbing discoveries, and Venn was only the first. The other is one that I still cannot yet comprehend. When searching with the detector, we found a chunk of isometril in the wall. It was about five feet back by our guess and about the size of two fists.  Down the hall was another one. And another. And another. In fact, we found them at regular intervals around the entire outside edge of the Roost. They were uniform in placement and always about the same height off the ground, and had no business being there. It wasn’t enough to make anyone sick, but it clearly had some purpose, and there was no sign of how it got there. In fact the caves had been expanded at various times, and even the newer caves had these devices planted in the walls.

My mind is still reeling trying to understand the implications of this. Who put those here? How? And why? What did they do? Dravot went ethereal for a brief time, and was able to see not only the modules, but a fine mithril wire connecting each one to the next.

In order to see how they were being planted and to perhaps examine one, we set the ruse of needing to expand the cave system and had the dwarves in the group start digging right into one of the objects. They tunneled through with no difficulty. The module fell out in the rubble and was scarcely noticed by the miners. We quietly removed it and took it to the lab.  

It was some kind of communication device – magical in nature, made of isometril with brass and copper.  We asked Venn about it, and he said it looked like something that he and the Coot had worked on many years ago, but had abandoned the concept fairly early and gone on to other things. It was sending some kind of energy or signal that was hard to notice unless you knew it was there, and then you could see it easily. So it was a spying device.

If the Egg of Coot knew the Roost was here, why go through these elaborate pains to spy on it? He could simply wipe it out and be done with the whole thing. That seemed impossible to believe. Unfortunately that left one other possibility – that someone else was spying on the Roost, and with access to similar devices. This too was rather difficult to believe but perhaps less so than the first option.

That night, Valanthe sat in the new cave, hidden and watching. And deep in the night, she heard a noise behind the wall – some kind of scraping. After a time, she saw a small clockwork ant, about the size of a cat, come out of a small tunnel in the wall. Over the next hour, the ant dug and placed new modules, and dug tunnels stringing mithril wire between them. When each wire was strung, it would spray out some kind of fluid, which solidified and turned to rock, leaving no trace of the tunnel.

When she described the ant to Venn the next morning, he said it too sounded like an old idea that was never developed.

Not knowing what to do about these modules, we decided to proceed with finding our next target. After debating various choices, we settled on a strike on the creche. We were not planning to take out the Egg of Coot in one blow, but more of a reconnaissance trip and to take out whatever targets of opportunity we found then withdraw.

Out loud, we said we would go attack the mines and free the slaves. Had the modules been the work of the Egg, then he’d at least think we were going for the wrong target, assuming he wasn’t aware we had found the network.

So we set out for the creche. It only takes a short bit of travel across the frozen waste to remind me why I don’t live in the frozen wastes.  On the way, we could see some egg shaped objects hovering above the refinery – surely golems on guard from our last assault.  They seemed somewhat precarious in their flight but were staying aloft nonetheless.

After a few more miles, we saw some kind of silvery shape running across the ice at amazing speeds. We were unsure what they were, but suspected they were the scavengers that Haldrin spoke of. We debated avoiding them, but decided we would rather face them now than on our way out, and see what they were made of. Scorch hid us in an illusion so we could strike from surprise.

Or so we thought. As they got closer, we could see there were two and they turned some and started running right at us – they somehow knew we were there.  Scorch let loose a fireball but only one was even vaguely singed.  They were also highly resistant to magical weapons – my arrows were bouncing off but Rackhir’s, enchanted by Scorch, were finding hold.

[OOC: +3 arrows that Dravot made for me didn’t work, which bothered me greatly. Scorch can make +4’s with greater magic weapon, and those did work.]

We engaged the monsters, trying various types of weapons and spells to see what affected them. Magic missles worked fine, but lightning had no effect.  One of them bit hard on Aethramyr but he hardly seemed fazed.  Valanthe then struck it from behind and one of them crashed down in a heap. We then killed the second one. The battle cost us some in spells, but we learned a great deal. They were outsiders, here in their physical form, but not evil ones. We took care to guard our magical weapons after hearing what happened to Haldrin – I feared that they could drain the magic from them but they fortunately showed no such ability.

Scorch, of course, felt the need to “examine” them after they were dead. “Examine” is his euphemism for “cut open and see what’s inside.” However besides the expected bits, he found two things that rather surprised me. First was a hand, a magical ring of the chameleon still on it.  The other was a warhammer. Magical. And somewhat small to be wielded by a man. 

Just right for a halfling though. I started grinning madly at the thought of returning Haldrin’s warhammer and rubbing it in what with the grumbling attitude he always has, and I took the hammer personally to make sure it returned to the rightful owner. 

We continued north towards the creche. After a couple hours we could start to see some structures clustered together.  They sat in some kind of small depression in the land.  There was a dome with four large pylons sticking out from four sides, and it was connected by a cylindrical passage to a large square two-story structure, like a large warehourse.  In the snow, I could make out three white egg-shaped objects hidden in the terrain. They were big – twice the size of the others we’d seen.  Hovering above were three more golems.

[OOC: There’s something to be said for having 20 ranks in spot.]

We circled to the far side of the depression and saw three other … things. Large metal skeletons with something sitting inside them – the beasts of Aethramyr’s vision. One had a pair of greatswords, one had a crystal on its neck, and the third had no weapons and seemed thinner than the others.  The occupant of one seemed vaguely dressed like the ranger that my companions had seen in their vision from Pelor. 

We were getting ready to attack and discussing options. Our thinking was just to hit them a bit, take out a few targets and then withdraw quickly. But Valanthe had a sinking feeling and was hesitating.  We watched and waited, to see what we could before making any decisions. And finally made out ice golems, sitting in the snow. These were the ones we saw at the mines, but they were lurking in the snow waiting, and there were a good number of them.

It seemed the Egg of Coot had decided to defend the creche rather heavily.  Whether this was normal or not, we couldn’t say. But given Valanthe’s unease, and the obvious strength before us, we decided to pull back.

On our way back, we decided to take a look at the mines and see what had changed there since our last attack.  The results were encouraging. There were three hovering golems above the mines. The patrol groups of sharp elves were still there, however they were just the standard swordsmen – no sorcerers, and none of the larger ones.  And no golems.

This was a promising sign. It meant that the Egg of Coot did indeed have limited troops and resources, and he had pulled some of the forces from the mines to guard other sites. That meant that he was worried, and that our attacks were having an effect.

Since he had so heavily defended the creche (logical) it seemed like a good idea to hit the mines again. We had no idea who the Egg thought was in his lands attacking him, but so far it looked like we were more interested in isometril than in the slaves or liberation or any such thing.  This was a deception we could extend by attacking the mines again. The truth was that while we could liberate the slaves, we could not transport, house, or feed them, and so for the time being they were better off where they were, and the Egg would have to expend forces guarding them while he still had them.

One thing at the mines had changed however. There were three sets of metal girders, joined in an X. On each was fastened a dead slave. No doubt this was left as a warning to us. However this really only served as a reinforcement of our purpose – the Egg of Coot had to be stopped. The death of the slaves was saddening, but we could not let those threats stop us. 

And so we attacked the mines again, with the intent to cause general mayhem and misdirection.  Scorch set an air elemental up to harass the floating eggs, and we moved in and struck at the sharp elves. Scorch’s initial fireball destroyed an entire patrol group, and things only got worse from there.

The added mobility from my new flight spell was invaluable, especially when added to Scorch’s mass haste. We moved in somewhat separately, each going after patrol groups while the golems descended.  I took out half a group with one volley, and Aethramyr and Dravot teleported in close and killed the others. And so it went.  By the time the golems had hit the ground, most of the sharp elves were dead, but the rest were still closing.

Aethramyr tried something on an impulse and cast Dispel Magic at a golem. And it stopped dead in its tracks for half a minute. This was a valuable new thing for us, and gave us some breathing room as we attacked the golems.

It was a short, brutal, bloody battle. Fortunately most of the blood was of our enemies, so this was a good thing. The golems were destroyed, and the entire patrolling force of 42 sharp elves were also dead. And the mines were ours. 

Of course we have no intention of holding it.

[OOC: This may seem like an odd stopping point. And it is. Truth is it was really really late, and we all wanted to go to bed so we just left things here.]


----------



## Zad

*miscellaneous additions*

What a funky night. We walked in talking about ambushing marionettes or maybe going to the creche, and the revelation of the communications net just totally hit us upside the head.

I still can't believe that the golem pulled a chunk of isometril all that way to the far off cave it was in without help. The most likely suspect is that little clockwork ant actually.

So the big questions are

Who put the comm network there?
Why? and what's their purpose in all this?
What will happen if we jam it or shut it down?

How will we get past the defenses at the creche?

And what do we do next?

And what's this "dark secret" that the DM is teasing us all with?


----------



## dravot

*Dravot's Journal - Land of Black Ice I*

Dravot’s Journal – The Lands of Black Ice

Things have calmed down enough for me to jot some stuff down before going to sleep.  Tomorrow we head north to the Creche, to see what kind of defenses the Coot has there, and test our mettle against them.

Several people have responded to my appeal for someone to learn the mysteries of Pelor’s priesthood.  I am pleased that so many have stepped forward, for the journey toward clerical service is a long and arduous one, and I’m sure that most will fall by the wayside.  Still, their time won’t be lost, as their appreciation for the Church will grow with their understanding, and will help root the faith amongst their families and neighbors.  I have started them learning the healing arts, teaching them to care for those still in the infirmary.  Only a couple are still under the throes of isometril sickness, and I should cure them when we get back from the Creche.

Venn is recovering from his rather unorthodox surgery.  Everytime I turn around, that damned isometril is someplace else, fouling things up.  I wish that it had never been discovered.  If it’s at all possible, I’ll even help the druid to bury the mines under the lavaflow.  All of the discussions of the vitaesis gems and isometril cause my eyes to glaze over.  It’s increasingly difficult for me to even pretend to care.  I just want it gone.

I am puzzled by this ring of isometril and mithril that surrounds the cave complex.  My first ever jaunt into the ethereal showed that the ring eminated some kind of signal outward, and I thought I caught something out of the corner of my eye.  I plan on calling upon the true sight of Pelor next time to see if I can catch whatever it was…maybe it was a clockwork ant like Valanthe described.

I will write more when I return from the Creche.


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## WizarDru

Look for some character perspectives tomorrow, I expect.  Quite a session last night.  Things are coming to a head as the Coot begins to get desperate, and other parties decide it's time to act.  The true face(s) of the Cuckoo is revealed, and some major butt kicking, too!

Join us for the Penultimate chapter of _"The Egg, the Owl and the Engine"_, won't you?

Zad paid me the highest compliment I can think of, when he turned to me last night and said: "You know, in 2 years of gaming in this campaign, that had the most whacked combat we've ever had."

My work here is done.


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## dravot

*Dravot's Journal - Land of Black Ice II & III*

(Editor's note: sometimes my journal entries are a bit later than Kayleigh's regular ones.  I tend to only write them up when we get some downtime...if the game breaks in the middle of combat it's rather hard for Dravot to be writing up what's going on 

Dravot’s Journal – The Lands of Black Ice II

We made pretty good time moving up toward the crèche.   Along the way, we encountered some rather nasty Outsiders, all silver and moving with incredible speed.  We believe that these are the creatures referred to by Haldrin; he encountered something like it in the tunnels leading from the slave pens to the mines.  It was a tough fight, most of our weapons were ineffective against them, but Valanthe brought them down.

As a matter of fact, we think that they were the same ones, as Scorch recovered a warhammer from the guts of one of them, and I am currently carrying a ring that lets me alter my shape at will, and helps me to hide in the shadows, much like Valanthe does (albeit not as well as she).

We reached the crèche by midday, finding it heavily fortified.  Valanthe warned us away from fighting there; I’m not sure what prompted that warning though, but after the fact it seemed like the prudent thing to do.  I confess that I wanted to move in and fight anyway, there were undead amongst the guards, probably bodaks like Haldrin described and I was anxious to take them out.  They’ll get theirs just yet.

We returned to the mines instead, finding it patrolled by the sharp elves and golems flying in midair.  The sharp elves weren’t much of  threat, fireballs and flame strikes took down most of them, with arrows and swords killing the rest.  There was no sign of the caster elves we spotted before though…I’m sure that they’ll be tougher.  The golems were a tougher threat, but we stopped them as well.  I invoked the strength of Pelor and claimed vengeance in his name and finished off the last one.

Upon returning,  I have discovered that my students have been working on an altar to Pelor, rather good, given the limited resources at this time.  I plan on consecrating it tomorrow during services.

--------------
Dravot's Journal LoBI III

Much has occurred in the past few hours.  I don’t have time to detail all of it, but I have a few minutes to set something down in my journal, so that there will be some record of it.

There was an earthquake a little while ago.  Rackhir and his animal took to the air and discovered that the earth had formed a huge gear, probably some 80-100 miles in diameter, most likely centered on the Creche.  The edge of the gear is but a couple of scant miles south of us.  Scorch believes that these foul lands are being hoisted into the plane of Mechanus.  Rackhir has gone to the druid for information and help.  He will help the Owl to get those in the caves out of here and through the barrier.  With them safe, we can concentrate on the problem at hand.

I have just emerged from a prayer trance with a vision from Pelor, although it doesn’t make a lot of sense.
I saw what I believe to be the Coot in his lair, in front of the gear gate.  A giant antlike monstrosity came through the gate and there was a heated discussion.  It sounds like the antman was breaking some deal with the Coot, but I’m not sure what that would be.  The Coot was clearly agitated.

Whatever is going on, it’s enough for us to act.  Kayleigh and Valanthe were just summoned to the lower caves for some reason.  As soon as that’s cleared up, we’ll head out.


----------



## Zad

*Divine Wrath - Chapter 5*

*Divine Wrath - Chapter 5 *

*OOC Notes:*

Exp this session is 4000. 16 point DM pity bonus to Dravot. Probably one more session to end this adventure.

*This Week’s Adventure:*

As we looked at the smashed remains of the golems and bodies of the elves, we then had to figure out what the next move was.  I kept an eye out for reinforcements while the others spread out to see what was in the area. Valanthe and Scorch headed for the refinery building while the others searched the elves for anything useful [OOC: 84 plat and that’s about it.] The weapons of the elves seemed to be decaying and disintegrating even while they watched, so the sharpness is probably an attribute of the elves rather than the weapons.

Valanthe found some new precautions in place at the refinery. Some kind of magical symbol trap was waiting. She didn’t know how to disarm it so she had Scorch back up and she was just going to run through and take whatever came.  It turned out to be something rather unlike anything I think she was expecting, as a wall of force sprang up, blocking her exit from the refinery from that door.  Knowing she could shadow jump out, she didn’t worry too much about it and proceeded to look around.  The refinery was quite different – all the refined isometril was gone, but the raw ore was still plentiful. Also many of the heavier machines had been removed, and there were large holes in the floor, leading down to a lava flow. Presumably the machines were powered by the heat from the lava. However the lava was slowly rising, and perhaps it was the Egg’s intention that we would be trapped inside and burned by the lava.

Scorch also made the observation that the golems all acted in perfect concert and were most likely linked in some way. Any golem made to a similar design would probably be aware of what happened here and might be teleporting in at any moment, since we had seen the other ones teleport.  This led us to hasten our inspection and withdraw immediately. We wanted to take one of the slaves with us so he could tell us what had happened here in recent days, but they were all so cowed as none would leave. Likely they feared retribution on their families or some such.  However when asked they did tell us that the Cuckoo had arrived after our last attack, and they were all chased out while a lot of work went on.  When asked about the Cuckoo and what it looked like, the man couldn’t say, as if he was prevented from doing so somehow.  With that we decided it was best to leave, and we did.

We were moving out at a good clip and were several hundred feet from the refinery when there were a few flashes of light, indicating that more golems had arrived. Of course we were far enough that they had no idea where we’d gone, and we were able to safely withdraw to the Roost.

When we returned, I asked Scorch to start work on a device that would jam the spying devices in the caves. He said it would be simple to do, and would start in the morning. (Understandable since we were all exhausted.) The network bothered me greatly – if it was the Coot spying, why not just destroy us here? If it wasn’t, then who else was playing in this little game? By jamming the network, I hoped to draw them out somehow and see who we were dealing with.

Meanwhile I went to find Haldrin. I was going to gain some amusement at returning his precious hammer, and had other questions for him as well. I found him supervising the dwarves in working on the new cave areas that had been opened up.

I asked him about the “steel beasts” that his group had encountered and it did seem to match the ones we had fought.  Of course, as soon as we were near the subject he went on again about his lost hammer. I asked a few idle questions about it – how big it was, the markings, and so on, before I pulled it out and said “Like this one?”

He was speechless initially but alas, it didn’t last. He looked at me and said “You’re all right, elf.” And then, with some hesitation in such an unnatural act, said “Thanks.”  I could only smile and told him where we found it, and it was then he noticed the smell. He went off to give it a bath or anoint it or something and I told him to find me when he was done, as I had more questions.

I was a bit puzzled about Haldrin’s group, and exactly who they were and what happened to them.  The Coot’s army was formidable but we had been reasonably successful so far, and I wanted to avoid any pitfalls that they had encountered.

Haldrin found me and told me the full tale. It was him, the ranger, a cleric and a mage. Tritherion had wanted Haldrin to come, and he assumed the cleric was under a similar motivation.  He and the ranger had been long friends so the ranger came too. The mage was hired on for the job.  The druid came later, on his own, and apparently his goddess had sent him.  Like us, they found the Owl fairly quickly.  This all happened about three years ago and the barrier was not in place then.  The Coot’s army was also weaker – there were fewer golems but a fair number more sharp elves.  They had little problem with the sharp elves or the ice golems, which seem to shoot blades of ice and are melted by fireballs. First they did a sortie to get the lay of things then attacking the slave pens to free slaves and lead an uprising. At the time it seemed like a plausible thing, not like it is now.  After freeing some people and several sorties they decided it would be better to take out the Coot directly, and headed down the tunnel to the creche and puppet theatre.  (The square building is the puppet theatre, the dome is the creche, he told me. He believed the gear gate was in the creche, along with the Cuckoo.)

Then the Coot started playing rough. He sent a retaliation raid and attacked the former hideout. Back then, the blocks on divination magic were not in place either, and the interference was more localized. Large quantities of isometril seem to interfere with magic also.

To attack the Coot they went through the mines and destroyed two golems on the way.  They were doing well until they got to an ambush, set by the Cuckoo and the retriever-like golems.  The mage was turned to stone by one of the golems.  The cleric was panicked by the Cuckoo. Haldrin couldn’t describe the Cuckoo either but he did make an effort to force through it. The ranger got Haldrin out, and the druid also escaped somehow. Haldrin implied the druid ran from the fight early on, but didn’t say so directly.

Since then the Coot has built up his forces. There are more golems and fewer elves.

I told him what we’d found on our little sortie and generally relaxed for the evening.  In the morning, it wasn’t long before Scorch built the jamming device. He said he would place it in the network and it would disrupt the signal it was sending out.

We spent the day recovering and debating what to do. Dravot was instructing some followers on the mysteries of the church I believe as well, and he and the paladins were still tending to the injured.  That night, I hid myself in the new cave keeping watch on Scorch’s latest creation.  I was fairly sure something would come, and I wasn’t disappointed.  Past midnight, another clockwork ant arrived, this one more sophisticated than the one Valanthe saw – it looked much more like an actual ant.  It began slowly checking each device looking for the problem.  I debated something subtle, but instead went for something direct, and put an arrow into the little ant, pinning it to the wall. It was still functional but only barely so, and I tied it up carefully and left it for Scorch to look at in the morning.

Scorch and Venn and the Owl spent some time looking at it. It was fairly straightforward clockwork tinkering, and standard gnomish craftsmanship. The Owl said she could even build such a device.  We tried to come up with a way to track it back to the source, but couldn’t think of anything practical.

A while later, the ground started shaking. It seemed like an earthquake but that kind of thing doesn’t happen here.  Rackhir took to the air to see if anything was happening and indeed there was. Some three miles to the south of us, cracks were forming in the earth. The crack would go in a direction for a while, then turn suddenly at a right angle, then go then turn back and forth. The crack was only a foot or two wide but was very deep near as he could tell. From a low level, it made no sense at all. But when he pulled up the picture became clear.

The crack was outlining the teeth of an enormous gear.

Scorch’s jaw nearly hit the floor. “Mechanus” he said. “He’s trying to take the whole area to Mechanus.”  Apparently the plane of law is composed entirely of gears, some as small as a room, some as large as a continent. And now the Egg was trying to take the whole area to another plane.  Scorch asked Rackhir for some quick measurements, and it seemed pretty clear to them that the center of the gear was at the creche. Then of course there was the question of “how long before it’s finished?” To that he could only answer “It depends.”

On his way back, Rackhir stopped in to see the druid at the volcano. The animals in the area were clearly agitated as was Agner. He said that his connection to the land and his goddess was fading away, which confirmed what we already thought.

While Scorch and Venn were furiously scribbling on a cave wall in chalk, someone else came in and told us there was a clockwork ant in the cave. It was just sitting there, not hiding. And it had something tied to it.

Some of us went down to the cave, and there was another ant. It had a small scrap of paper tied to it and it was just waiting. It seems the unknown party has come forward with a message. I honestly didn’t think that jamming the network would work quite this well, but it seems it did.

I untied the note – it was a small scrap torn off the corner of some larger paper.  Hastily scrawled on it was

_Can’t hold him off much longer. More coming form Acheron. War coming. Help soon._

This was not very clear or helpful but did reinforce the urgency of the new problems.  And what did “Help soon” mean. That he would help? Or that we needed to help him?

The best of it all however was what was on the other side of the paper. It seems that this was torn from some plan or blueprint. From the fragment we had, it seemed it was the plan of something being built over the existing town. And part of the construction was an escape tunnel, leading to the nearby hills. The tunnel lead back into the puppet theatre.

Here it was. Our way in. The way past the guards outside. 

None of us were thrilled with the new gear forming. I suggested that Dravot might wish to pray to Pelor for any guidance.  He seemed to think little of this idea and resisted it. I think he didn’t expect Pelor to bother himself with all this. However I think Dravot underestimated his growing power as a priest of Pelor, and the fact that we are on a mission directed by Pelor himself.

But pray he did. And he was rewarded. He saw a vision.  

There was a large egg hanging in the air. Around the center were several metal tumblers spinning around and stopping at various times. Runes were carved on these bands and blue energy crackled around. The Egg floated around a bit, then shimmered and was replaced with the image of an old gnome floating in the air. It floated before a large portal made of gears and clanging hammers – surely the gear gate.

The center of the gate swirled and a vortex of energy formed and then cleared. Through the gate came the shape of a giant ant-like creature.  The Egg of Coot was clearly distressed at the new developments, and it seemed from the conversation that the ant was altering the deal that they had, and stealing the entire area to Mechanus against the Egg’s wishes. The Egg mentioned other interested parties, but the ant didn’t care.  The ant withdrew, and the Egg muttered about arrangements being made, and always honoring our deals.  The vision faded but left some very clear things in its wake.  Whoever was trying to tear off this section of the prime material plane, it wasn’t the Egg of Coot, and he didn’t want it to happen.

Not needing much more, we quickly gathered what we would need and headed out to the creche.  

It was hardly a mile from the Roost that we saw them. More giant steel cats – a group of three, moving fast. The Egg of Coot was expecting a response from us, and he knew we were in this general area. These beasts were here to intercept us and stop us. One of them was much larger than the other two, and looked particularly nasty.  We discussed trying to just get past them without drawing attention, but most of the group felt that it would be better if Rackhir flew up and tried to draw them off. So Rackhir flew in low over them and they predictably gave chase.  He was able to loose the two smaller ones ducking in and out of ravines, but the large one leapt up a sixty foot wall in two bounds and stayed with him. After a bit more dodging in and out, Rackhir finally lost him and rejoined the group. It worked out beautifully and we headed to the creche.

As we approached the creche, there was a beam of light projecting up into the sky. The closer we got, the more uneasy some of us became – of course it was the free-spirits in the group, which made up the majority of us.  We moved into the hills and started looking for the tunnel, Valanthe coordinating the search.  It took some time but we finally found the well concealed entrance.

As Valanthe looked for the opening mechanism, there was a flash as a magical trap went off. A bizarre red creature appeared (Scorch called it a Rast) with many insect-like legs. It slashed at Valanthe, who responded in kind, cutting the fairly fragile creature deeply. It was badly wounded and a single arrow finished it off, and it disappeared back into the planar ether a few moments later.

[OOC: There was a rast. For a brief, tiny, fleeting moment. It does mean things, sure. But it only has a tiny handful of hit points. On the surprise round it attacked. On the first regular round, Valanthe nearly killed it, and Wizardru just said “Ah…ok. Well… Kayleigh finishes it with an arrow. It’s dead. Moving on.” We spent a good few minutes making fun of the rast and how a powerful spell like summon monster VI could turn up this thing. Dravot’s player caused Wizardru to actually sperf water when, as Wizardru was holding up the picture in the Monster Manual, he said “Warning: Image is actual size.”]

The tunnel curved gently underneath the depression that the creche and puppet theatre sat in.  As we progressed the air got warmer.  It stopped being cold and got to the point that it was very warm. After a long stretch, the passage came to a dead end. Beyond, we could hear the sounds of ringing hammers and various clanging about. Valanthe found the trigger to open the panel and peeked inside.  In the room were a pair of battle dolls but instead of hammer-like arms, they had long sharp tubes as claws.  The walls were welded plates of metal sometimes forced to fit and the ceiling was about 35 feet high. The floor oddly was bare earth.  To the north in the room was a large stone house in bad repair, almost as if it had been moved into this large room.  There were a few humans moving about the chamber with odd awkward movements. Dravot said they were undead, and their pale skin supported this. Indeed the entire building was under the effects of an Unhallow spell. On the backs of their heads was some kind of copper apparatus.

This brought out something that had been nagging at the back of my mind – who was making the undead? The Egg of Coot was a wizard, and seemed to deal in gadgets. But it didn’t seem to fit that he was also raising the dead. So if not him, then who?

We moved in to quickly take out the golems. Dravot turned the light of Pelor on the poor unfortunate souls that shuffled around, and despite the unhallow, their shells fell to ash and their grateful spirits floated free.  The golems claws were brutally sharp and left bleeding wounds behind, but we were able to destroy them fairly quickly. Given all the clanging and banging, it was unlikely anyone had heard the fight.

There were three doors leading out of the room. Valanthe checked each in turn, and the middle was trapped with some type of magical trap. Fortunately she was able to disarm it without loosing any limbs and we moved down that passage. It lead to a door that was some kind of iris.  It was locked but Valanthe found a way past it.

Beyond the portal was a room. In the room was another disheveled stone house, and a raised steel platform.

On the platform, floating off the ground, slowly spinning, was the Cuckoo.

[OOC: Eeeep.]

It’s difficult to describe the Cuckoo. It was made entirely of mithril. In the middle was a large pod, (larger than a man) which had several bands rotating around the center, like the Egg did. At the top was a head of sorts, but it had a face on the front and back, and protrusions at various points. On all four sides were smaller pods. And the room was filled with the hollow fluting music.

I had a sinking feeling about the pods, but was unsure. 

I have to hand it to Dravot and Scorch – they were well prepared for this encounter. Quickly, various defensive spells were cast, including a silence on Aethramyr’s shield, and a ward against sonic attacks. And we moved in.

I fired at the Cuckoo but his spinning form meant my arrow missed. Aethramyr took a moment to detect evil, and while he sensed six different presences, he detected no evil. He then moved up and struck with Shatterspike, and found purchase. But with the blow came blood. 

And that was what I feared.  In the pods must be people. Like the marionettes, he would use these innocents as a shield.

Rackhir said over the scale there was a voice in his head that told him there were children inside the Cuckoo, not just the pods but in the central element as well. [OOC: What Rackhir did not tell us was that the voice said that they were HIS children.]  I had a reasonable guess where the voice was coming from and so assumed the information was valid.  Valanthe was quickly checking the stone house and had found some rough plans for what looked like the Cuckoo. Inside it was space for two children, and there were vents that we could see that must be for them to breathe. There was no way to remove the children – the Cuckoo was built with them inside.

What followed was the strangest battle I have yet seen. Aethramyr tried to leap on the Cuckoo and pry off a pod, but they were well attached. Scorch opened one pod with a knock spell and Aethramyr ripped out the occupant and then healed him to keep him from dying.  During all this, the Cuckoo attacked mercilessly with claws on the ends of mithril cables, lashing out. His attacks were taking their toll on Aethramyr and Rackhir.  We had no ideas and no options, and we even discussed attacking the Cuckoo in force, and simply accepting the loss of the people contained inside. Surely we couldn’t just stand here and let it kill us, and running was not an option either.

Since this beast was in some ways similar to a marionette, we tried using the disruption devices, spiking them directly into the Cuckoo. It had a minor effect but not all we’d hoped. Valanthe noticed that the Cuckoo was constantly spinning, and pulled out one of the immovable rods, and use it on one side. The Cuckoo clanged into it and spiraled across the room out of control for a moment.

Scorch then tried a dispel magic on the head of the Cuckoo. His first try wasn’t sufficient but he tried again, and something happened.  By that time Aethramyr had moved away and we could hear a shrill keening sound and light was coming from the head an eyes. The Cuckoo himself had stopped attacking or moving. We kept trying to hound it further with disruption devices, which had some effect but we weren’t sure what.

Then we put it together – it was going to explode. Scorch must have some how set off the self destruct.  Valanthe was able to pry off the head and remove the huge chunk of vitaesis that powered the thing – the power was so intense it burned her hands. But once the vitaesis was removed, the sound died, and even the droning pipe music withered away, and the Cuckoo was inert.

We had to get the people out next, and we set to that. The pods were simple enough but we had to figure out how to remove the children. I suggested that we teleport them out if we could reach down the air holes far enough. Scorch solved that by polymorphing into a small animal and crawling down the vent whereupon he could touch them and teleport them from inside the Cuckoo.

The vast metal hulk sat on the floor, unmoving, unseeing. Scorch said it can probably regenerate but without the people inside, it would not be likely. Even so if someone wanted to revive it, it would take months to do.

Rackhir, for all the time I’ve know him, did something I’d never seen. He showed emotion.  He held the children, who were pale and thin, and not used to the light. He called them by name, and I realized that somehow they had to be his children.


----------



## Zad

*Divine Wrath - Chapter 6*

*Divine Wrath - Chapter 6*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience this session is 5087

Loot summarized at the end.

Notable Quotes:

Wizardru: “Getting to the prime material is relatively easy”. Something I wanted to note for the record. 

Wizardru, describing a room: “There’s plenty of light. It’s exceedingly dark.” That clears things up.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

We quickly discussed what to do with the rescued children and the other captives of the Cuckoo.  Getting them to safety would be ideal, but there was no real place of safety anywhere within miles, and so we settled for hiding them in the stone building, Rackhir leaving Gwahir to guard them. We also discussed the rather gigantic pile of mithril before us that used to be the Cuckoo.  We debated trying to salvage some of it or store some in Scorch’s magic chest, but it would take too long, and time was of the essence. (A decision we would later come to regret.)

One corridor from the Cuckoo’s lair led to a dead end hall with some strange prongs coming from the wall. Leaving that we went through another door, down a short hall and came to a large mechanical door. Valanthe managed to open it, and inside were yet more mysteries.

There was a single human inside this dank room. [Here in lies the quote: “There’s plenty of light. It’s exceedingly dark.”] The torchlight threw shadows around and the smell of decay was in the air.  A small altar was at one end of the room surrounded by human bones. This seemed to fill in a missing piece of the puzzle – someone was creating the undead we saw and we didn’t think it was the Egg, so who was it? Probably this man. Aethramyr confirmed he was evil so I moved in. Before I could even fire, he cast a command spell, ordering us all to stay our hand. Some of my companions were able to resist his will, but I was frozen unable to fire.

Valanthe moved in and attacked the man but was unable to land her blade on him. In return, he cast Harm on her, and Valanthe screamed at the sickly energy’s touch. He then said something about not seeking to harm us and perhaps we could negotiate.

[OOC Note: Aethramyr’s player was working late, and was not yet at the game. I point this out because we tread on some fine moral lines next, and if it seems that Aethramyr is strangely silent, there is a reason for it. We waited as long as we could but ultimately had to move on.]

Having no problem with the moral dilemma, Rackhir spoke up, and asked the man what he wanted. The situation calmed from there very slowly, but it soon became clear that while this man had definite goals in this scheme, we were not necessarily opposed to them. Assuming of course he was telling the truth.

He was a cleric of Wee Jas, a representative and negotiator. The isometril apparently belonged to Wee Jas originally and came from her plane.  Somehow, Mechanus stole it, then lost it, and it ended up here. The forces of Wee Jas want it back very badly, and are prepared to go to war to get it. He has been negotiating with the Egg of Coot but it has been slow and complicated, and the advent of the action of Mechanus to steal back the isometril is most disturbing. He surmises that we wish to destroy the Egg, and he has no trouble with that idea at all – the isometril is his concern here. 

Dravot and Rackhir continued to discuss the situation with this priest of evil. I was stunned into silence. The man is definitely powerful, and to fight him would have been a difficult thing indeed. However he is also respectful of our power and seems to wish to avoid an unnecessary battle. What stunned me however is how Dravot, who has sworn to root out and destroy the undead and those who create them, and a priest of Pelor, was so willing to tolerate this man. Were he simply a cleric of Wee Jas, that would be one thing, but this man obviously has created undead, in this very room even, and yet Dravot seems indifferent to it. During the discussions he mentions that the temple of Wee Jas helped his family in Brindonford, and that he owes them a debt, but I couldn’t help but wonder if he was committing some kind of moral lapse that he would regret later.

In any case, he told us where to find the Egg, and also of the Gear Gate. The Gear Gate effectively cannot be destroyed without removing the power source – a woman in some kind of cylinder. She is in the tall building adjacent to this one. If we can remove her, we can then destroy the gate and potentially stop the actions of the Formians. (Hopefully before war erupts between Acheron and Mechanus, with this as the battleground.) He also said that the golems are the product of Acheron, and he has some sway over them. He can render them indifferent to us, and they will not attack unless we attack them first. Rackhir and Dravot agree to leave the man be and proceed on against the Egg in exchange for this. However if forces begin to arrive from Acheron, all deals were off. I was still unable to believe that Dravot would be willing to allow this, but since this is Pelor’s wish that we be here, I simply shook my head and we moved on.

The other door from his chamber led to a hallway and then a door to the outside, facing the tower where Ravenna was held. This is the building where the three bodaks in mechanical skeletons stand guard. We formulated a quick plan to get past them without attacking them directly: Dravot would render us invisible to undead, however one bodak still guards the door, and would notice it opening. Rackhir fired an explosive arrow to land out of sight to distract the bodaks, but they did not investigate. Presumably their orders did not permit such thinking.  So I threw an illusion at the end of the building of the party, and had them move around the building. Two of the bodaks see this, including the one guarding the door, and moved off to pursue.

We moved up and worked on opening the door. With time running out before the bodaks return, Valanthe was working quickly but having a great deal of trouble with the door. Finally she managed to open it and we moved inside, sealing the door behind us.

This large room had a glass ceiling. Hovering in the air twenty feet up was a cylinder matching Aethramyr’s vision. All around it were large arms, each ending in a different color vitaesis crystal. At random moments, energy streams would arc from the cylinder to one of the various crystals.

I flew up to the cylinder and could see Ravenna inside through a small window. I tried to break it but it was not glass. In fact then it seemed clear that the entire cylinder was made from diamond vitaesis, with the window being the only untreated, clear portion.  Valanthe joined me and uses the large jade crystal from the Cuckoo, hoping to cause a reaction in the diamond vitaesis. While we were there, energy is shooting around us, burning us both in various places. 

The jade worked. Fortunately it was not a large explosion like opposing vitaesis, but it did cause the diamond to crack deeply. After a couple tries, a piece shattered inward, cutting Ravenna slightly.  It left a hole just large enough for me to get a finger in and touch her face, which was all I needed. I activated the helm of teleportation and brought us down to the floor.

When she was released from the cylinder, she released a wave of energy. It was like being overcome by a stunning wave of . . . neutrality. It’s really impossible to describe other than that.  It was so overwhelming that I was simply stunned, as was Valanthe and Scorch.  The priests managed to avoid being overcome, though they still felt it. They were unable to snap the rest of us out of it at first, until Dravot tried channeling some positive energy which seemed to cause a reaction in us and snap us out of it.

[OOC: The energy was neutral, and affected us all save Rackhir, who is chaotic neutral, and the only one of us with any “neutral” in him. Just so happened the Lawful’s made the saves. When Dravot tried channeling positive energy at Scorch, it was contrary to his chaotic nature and helped snap him out of it. Wizardru said “You feel the oppressive touch of The Man trying to exert his control over you!”]

Ravenna was still unconscious, even though free from the cylinder.  She was naked and her hair has grown very very long. Rackhir wrapped his cloak around her and holds her as Dravot scans her for injury. Rackhir seemed on the verge of weeping, but the urgency of the situation would not permit anything like that. Surely the Egg knew what had happened, and we had to get out of there fast. Scorch had noticed all the energy interplay in the remaining mechanism and the cylinder was slowly floating to the floor as the energy drained out of it. He was sure that this building would be a very bad place to be soon, and we’d best leave it.

Of course by now the bodak had returned. Rather than anything tricky, we just opened the door. We had several of the scarabs scorch had made specifically to short out the bodaks, and I fired one as the door opened. The bodak jerked and stumbled and we made a run back to the Puppet Theatre. We had just made it to the door when the tower exploded loudly, knocking us all off our feet, and completely destroying the bodaks still guarding it.

The cat was out of the bag now. The Egg knew we were here, and we were inside his defenses. Rackhir would be needed to defeat whatever lied ahead, but now having both his wife and his children, he would not leave their side. Nor would I in his shoes. We would have removed them all to a safer spot, but with the helm out of uses for the day, there was no way of doing that. As Ravenna got closer to the children, her eyes opened finally, but then a blue-white light started shining from her eyes. She floated up into the air as did the children and lightning started arcing between them. Beneath her, the ground opened up, and vines and underbrush started growing before our eyes.  Dravot said she must be acting as an avatar of Beory, anchoring the area to the prime material plane. However it’s uncertain how long she can hold the area in place, and we decide to take out the Gear Gate quickly to help her.

So we moved down the proper passage towards the creche, supplied by the cleric of Wee Jas. The door opened to a large clear tube that ran between the buildings.  Valanthe triggered a trap that caused the appearance of several golems, but they simply stood there ignoring her. Seemed the cleric was keeping up his end of things.

In the middle of the tube was a mystical symbol. Valanthe attempted to disarm the trap, but failed and it went off. Messily.  A symbol of pain washed over us all, even though we were all well back from Valanthe. Aethramyr and I shook off the effect, but the rest were all in pain from the magic.

Dravot was able to remove the effect with remove curse from some scrolls he had, and restored most of the group. Thorkeld was willing to suffer through it however and we went on.

We were not sure what would be waiting on the other side of this door, but we prepared for the worst. Rather than risk some type of trap, we stayed a way down the corridor and triggered the door to open from a distance.   Hovering a foot from the ground was a large brass and copper clockwork egg. The Egg. The Egg of Coot.

Not sparing a moment, the Egg crackled with energy, and a prismatic spray tore down the corridor.

[OOC: Ouch. For those curious who got what: Aethramyr was purple, he saved. Thorkeld was orange and he took some damage. Dravot was indigo, he saved. Kayleigh got blue, she saved. Valanthe got orange. I should also point out that it was a good time of year for this battle, as Wizardru has many plastic easter eggs in the house, and a purple one was easily recruited to serve as the appropriate villain.]

We moved in and attacked in full force. I flew into the room and urged my fellows to do the same, as the corridor would be a death trap for us with area spells. The Egg had erected a wall of force in the chamber beyond, cutting us (and him) off from the rest of the creche. Beyond the wall we could see the Gear Gate.

The Egg was not unprepared for us, and I was quickly met with a Bigby’s hand that did its best to stay between me and my target the entire time. I had only fired one arrow at the Egg before he cast the hand at me and after that I was unable to get a single shot around the large hand. But Thorkeld and Aethramyr surrounded the Egg and began hacking into it, and Dravot soon followed. Valanthe leapt on top and was trying to find a way inside. (Valanthe seems to be developing a rather odd tendency to leap on top of things.) 

Scorch turned immediately to the Gate, dropping the Egg’s force wall with a disintegrate.

The Egg cast several spells in the course of the battle but most of them were foiled by our counterattack, and he had difficulty casting most of them. Within a short time, the tyrant that had cursed this land crashed to the floor in a brass-and-copper lump, shredded by Shatterspike and Dravot’s Sunhammer.

Scorch was able to begin to understand the Gate. He was sure he could destroy it with a bit of vitaesis, and placed it appropriately. Twice he nearly got his hand blown off but managed to get clear. After the first, the Gate cracked and groaned, the gears beginning to grind and the hammers no longer in their perfect rhythm.  After the second, the thing flew apart in all directions. As it did, the pull on the area seemed to lessen ever so slowly.

[OOC: There was a feeling of “lawfulness” in the area since before we had arrived, and we were able to gauge progress in the tug-of-war on the land by how much we could feel this lawful aspect taking over or receding.]

Valanthe was able to open the hulk and remove the withered gnome inside. He was frail, and burned in places. Dravot and Aethramyr were examining him, Aethramyr felt there was still an evil spirit around. One of the gems set into the top of the egg seemed to be the source of this, and it seemed to be the focus binding some evil spirit. Scorch was prepared for that too with a dismissal, and sent the demon back to its native plane.

The gnome was barely holding on and what ailed him went far deeper than Dravot could address here. The gnome managed to croak out “He’s….still here…” Dravot asked “He who?”

The gnome croaked “Fraaazzzz…”  And then he was dead.

We immediately started running back to the Cuckoo’s chamber.

Meanwhile….

[OOC: For the sake of the readers, I’ll present what happened, even though Kayleigh didn’t see it, it’s easily learned later.]

As Rackhir sat watch over his wife and children he could see a change suddenly. There was no longer as much of a struggle, and the power coming from his wife spread out more evenly and calmly. But at the far end of the room, a man walked in. He towered tall, with black hair, black skin, and black within black eyes. Across his back was a large black sword, and he wore black silks.

Tolerating no threat to his wife and children, Rackhir told the man “Leave. Now.” But the man just ignored him and walked towards Ravenna with a look of curiosity in his face. Rackhir fired a few arrows but the man simply caught one and snapped it in half. Rackhir drew out the enchanted battle axe and moved towards the man, realizing he was facing a far superior power. He said “This probably isn’t going to do any good is it? But …” 

The Demon Prince of Deception looked at him and shrugged “Do what you must.”

Rackhir swung but the beast easily dodged him. Then with an absent wave of his hand, Rackhir was thrown against the wall. His skull was split, his bones shattered, and his blood spilling out.

As his vision blurred, Rackhir could see a small white form hovering nearby. A small man the size of his hand with a whirlwind instead of legs, the thing spoke to him.

“Hi. Um…look, we haven’t been formally introduced but I’m the Adjuticator. I was asked to keep an eye on you, and I’ve been the one talking to you. Look, you’re going to die. Now if you hold still a bit I think I can prevent that but it’s going to take me some time.”

Fraz-Urb Luu stood before Ravenna, studying her, not entirely sure what to make of what he saw.

Rackhir had little choice and the spirit set to work. It said “You can just call me Jono for now. You see I was tied to your bow to kind of keep an eye on you. That guy there is Fraz – you know – the Demon Prince of Deception.” Slowly Rackhir’s bones started to pull back together and the organs spilled back into his body. He thought more than said “Is there a way you can help me act against him?”

Jono just stopped. Then he said “Well, maybe… um… just stay still.”  Clearly he knew something but didn’t want to say it. Rackhir thought “What is it? How can I stop him?”

Jono stalled, then said “You could stab him… with the bow…” Clearly doing this would represent quite a painful price for the spirit, and possibly for Rackhir.

Rackhir was never one to shy from a price however. His body was now repaired enough to let him move, and quietly he got up behind Fraz.

[OOC: What you, the reader, have not known, is that when Scorch agreed to make Rackhir’s bow, he attached a price. The price was that Scorch could add a power of his choosing to the bow. Rackhir agreed. What Scorch did, with Dravot’s help, was bind a djinn spirit into the bow. With Rackhir in possession of the mark, and questions about his loyalties, this was done to have something that would keep an eye on him and add some moral guidance. All the characters were aware of this, with the exception of Rackhir of course.  However it had not yet come up often in the game – twice so far I believe. But I did not document it here for fear of revealing Scorch’s handiwork. Kayleigh was not at all comfortable with Rackhir having the Mark, and this was one of the things that eased her (and others) concerns. Jono is a djinn prince who has been bound (with his consent) in Rackhir’s bow since it was created.]

We were all rushing madly back to Rackhir. I was flying down the hall at a dangerous speed and opened the door in time to see Rackhir standing behind an ebon-skinned man. Rackhir’s leg was splayed at an impossible angle, and he was grasping his bow with both hands like a spear ready to drive it into the man’s back.

As we arrived the man turned to us, but Rackhir struck. The bow glowed an intense green light, with a small white sprite of light circling it at amazing speeds. Scorch managed to blurt out “Fraz! That’s Fraz!” The bow began crackling and burning with lightning, striking into the demon.  

Then there was a growing light, as Rackhir and Fraz were swallowed up in a ball of white light. At its peak there was a flash that blinded us all. When we could see, both Fraz and Rackhir were gone. The bow had fallen to the floor, still engulfed in a greenish fire.

As we all stood there, stunned, Ravenna’s eyes started glowing brighter. A sudden green aura burst around us, seemingly protecting us from what was happening.  The floor burst into grass and plant life, and a huge wave of energy rushed outward.  The building was totally blown apart with sheets of metal flying in every direction. As the wave reached the metal, it started rusting and dissolving. Apparently since Beory no longer had to struggle to keep this land on this plane, she could turn her attention to un-doing what had been done.

The ground began cracking and shaking, and the black ice was melting away as the energy wave changed the very land around us.  The temperature began changing too – the heat of the theatre was cooled, while out on the glacier it began to warm. Everywhere the black ice melted away, and the ground swelled with new plant and even animal life.  This continued on for some time and all we could do is watch in amazement as nature erased the Egg and all his monstrosities from the lands, and brought life where there was only cold and ice.  After several minutes, it was as if we were in another land, with growing trees and rich plains.

After half an hour, the change was complete, and the green aura fell away. Ravenna and the children returned to what I can only describe as a more mortal state, and woke, as if from a long sleep. 

And she asked “Where’s my husband?”

We could only look at each other silently. Finally I said “That’s what we had hoped you could tell us.” She remembered no more than what we had seen with our own eyes. 

Scorch, with a grump, picked up the bow he had spent so much time on. It was still intact, but no longer contained the spirit that he and Dravot had placed within. “All that work gone,” he said in disgust.

Then, still a practical man, he turned to me and handed me the bow and said “You should be able to get some use out of this thing.”

I held it but the feel was entirely wrong. Rackhir and I were like two sides of a coin – the same, yet totally different. This bow was entirely his, and while a fine weapon, was not at all suited to me.  Before I could say a word though, the bow began fading away, drawn to some other place. In a moment it was gone.

Scorch could only say “Feh.”

We took a quick look around. Everything of the Egg’s was blasted away, the metal rusting and crumbling. Scorch shouted “The mithril!” and ran over to where the Cuckoo’s hulk had been. All that was left was pieces of brass and copper – the mithril was gone, taken back into the earth by nature herself.

We asked Ravenna to please explain some of what had happened to us, from the beginning. She explained that there is a chosen of Beory born each generation. She did not know she was Beory’s chosen when she married Rackhir however. Then she was captured and imprisoned by Iuz. The Egg of Coot somehow attacked and killed one of the lesser boneheart, and captured her.  She had been shuttled back and forth between somewhere (Mechanus perhaps) and was a connection to Beory. She was used to spread the black ice further south than it would have come.  For a time the Egg hid her on Mechanus when Chavram attacked, but that did not work as the Egg had intended – on Mechanus she was a mortal woman, and conditions rapidly worsened here.

Over time the Egg grew more erratic and splintered. It started acting as two distinct personalities, depending on when you talked to it.  It made deals and had discussions with various beings. At one point, strangers came in brown robes with masks and talked to it, but it was always in one particular personality for this.  Apparently they were very angry at Chavram. Ravenna had the feeling that the robed men did not speak for their entire group though. They mentioned something about Chavram having an ulterior motive to facing down Iuz, and whatever it was, it scared them.

Adding in what we knew, it seemed clear that at some point in time, Fraz took an interest in the Egg of Coot. He was taken to some other plane and horrible things were done to him, evidenced by scars we found on his back and spine.  A demon was bound with the egg, and the personalities seemed to be either the demon, or the gnome, who was trying to prevent all this from happening.  Fraz seemed intent on starting a war between Acheron and Mechanus, and was using the isometril as the prize and the Egg of Coot as his pawn.  The interactions with the robed men, surely the Horned Society, confirm the level of Fraz’s involvement.

Why Fraz would want such a war, we had no way of knowing. But it must be a large effort given the lengths he’s gone to. We’re forced to question a great deal of what’s happened in the past to see if it was what it seemed.

After a time, Agner and the Owl arrived. With them were the Owl’s forces, Haldrin, and the freed slaves. They also brought with them the marionettes – the devices were dead, but the children were still trapped inside. We freed them with the keys we had and they were returned to their families.  The Owl, Ravenna and Agner immediately became involved in deep discussions of the future.  They would deal with the isometril somehow – they were not sure just yet what they would do. If it did come from Wee Jas, then returning it would be the best place for it. Meanwhile they would seal it off with lava. Surely they had a great deal ahead of them.

Ravenna also indicated something else that was left behind – things of the Egg’s that were not destroyed in the wave. They had little need for that kind of currency and told us to take it if we wished. In a small box was 350 platinum pieces, gems and an inlaid crown. There was also a green ioun stone and a wand of cure moderate wounds. At first I thought “Well, that’s hardly anything. That will barely cover the expenses of the trip or those boots I bought.” Then I could only laugh at myself. Scant years ago I would have called that a veritable fortune, and now it just looks like pocket change. How much we’ve changed.

[OOC: 350pp, 1800gp in gems, 5000gp crown, pale green prism ioun stone, wand of cure moderate, 50 charges. Also 14 pounds of mithril extracted from the marionettes.]

Well, there may have been little profit in this trip, but that was hardly the point. The true reward is that hundreds of people no longer live in slavery, the isometril is protected, and a tyrant is defeated. I can only hope that Pelor is pleased with Dravot, Aethramyr and Thorkeld, having done his will, and prevented inter-planar war in the process.

I had assumed after the Egg was defeated that the people here would require a fair bit of help to begin to recover. But with the change in climate, food was available, and shelter was not critical. Indeed, attention now focuses on Ravenna, the Owl and Agner. We seem to be little more than curiosities to these people. In the morning, we’ll make our return to our homes, and I doubt very much if they’ll notice.

As I’m writing all this, I realize that Ravenna has not even bothered to say “thank you”.  I suppose I shouldn’t expect much else from a human though. This was a case where the reward was in doing the right thing, and not from any gain or praise. I did joke with Dravot that at least his people had thrown a party for a week after they were freed from evil. From his laugh, I could see he saw the irony also. But from his smile I can see he feels rewarded that he carried out his god’s will, and needs little more. Scorch I’m sure is pleased with that spellbook he’s done nothing but pour over since it came to his hand. Valanthe is harder to gauge – she is hardly religious but hold Tritherion close to her in her own way. As for me, well perhaps it’s only fitting – Pelor saw fit to offer me another chance at life, so perhaps I have paid that debt.

So now I sit in a stream taking a pleasant bath and trying to take heart in a job well done. But Ravenna’s question still echoes in my mind: Where is Rackhir?

_[OOC Note: Rather than leave you in suspense, I’ll give you the answer. This was his last night with the game, and he is moving on to other things. So Rackhir won’t be returning, except for possible future cameos  ]_


*Loot Report:*

From this adventure we have 

12,210gp
19 pounds of mithril
green prism ioun stone
wand of cure moderate, 50 charges
Rod of Blessed Rest
Ring of alarm
Ring of Chameleon 
Ring of Minor Fire Resistance

“a few gems and a crown” of unspecified value from the giants


----------



## dravot

*Dravot’s Journal – The Lands of Black Ice IV*

I have awakened far earlier than I normally do.  I estimate that I have an hour or more before dawn, when I begin my prayers.  I will ask for a commune with Pelor in an attempt to discover where Rackhir has gone to, and make sure that he is alive.  All I know for sure is that he is not on this plane.  Considering that his bow disappeared into the aether, I am guessing that he is still alive.  I’m glad that he has the Adjutant with him to give him guidance and keep him company.  It may help him stay alive until we rescue him.  It might even help him get back himself before we can locate him.

I can hardly believe the changes in the land.  I spent the night out under the stars, sleeping under the protection of Ravenna and Beory; but yesterday we were struggling against the cold, fearing for our lives.

Kayleigh expressed surprise that I acquiesced to a discussion with the priest of Wee Jas.  I guess that even though we’ve spent so much time in each other’s company, there is a lot we don’t know about each other.  In some ways we are all loners, banded together to perform certain important tasks.  We can cooperate, yet we are not a team.  I am reminded of this when it came to the battle with the Egg, and Kayleigh was trapped behind the phantasmic hand, and we left it up to her to resolve the problem.  When the sigil trap went off, we all looked for ways to help ourselves, instead of trying to figure out who needed help and who would best benefit from our meager resources.  Again it brings to mind the time when I was drained by the shadow and I panicked and used the only lesser restoration scroll I had.  Certainly I could have waited until the next day.  The scroll would have been of better use for another member of the group, someone without the ability to shake off the shadow’s effects.  I have been selfish in other ways, too, but they are painful enough and don’t need to be dredged up for further review.

I hereby resolve to work toward the greater good of the party.  Pelor grant me strength to do so, for I will sorely need it.

In any case, what Kayleigh doesn’t know is as we parlayed with the priest, I was contacted by Alwyn, the planetar that was my host during my stay at Elysium.  He warned me of what was at stake.  If the forces of Acheron came through onto the prime material, Pelor himself would intervene.  There wouldn’t be a battle between the forces of Acheron and Mechanus; Pelor’s forces would manifest as well.  I would become the host for the Avatar of Pelor should this occur.   I realized while we spoke with this man that I was also paying off a debt to Wee Jas, for the help of Her temple in Brindinford, during my family’s hour of need.  Karma had been restored.

I didn’t care about the isometril, all along I’d been grousing about it, wishing that it’d be gone.  It’s presence on this plane caused no end of misery and sickness and death.  If the priest of Wee Jas could accomplish it’s removal and prevent this holocaust, I would support him, and I said as much.  I also warned that should the forces of Acheron manifest upon this plane, all bets were off.  He understood and accepted as such.  

Speaking of Brindinford, yesterday I invoked the powers of the Sunhammer for the first time since I recovered it from the crypts.  What a mighty weapon it is.  It ignored the armor of the Egg and allowed me to strike directly at it’s inhabitant and end it’s assault upon our group.

I fell asleep last night considering my near future plans.

I may spend a few days here, continuing the education of my ecclesiastical volunteers.  Tomorrow I will contact Prestwick back in Greyhawk and request that he send someone to continue this work, so I may return to Greyhawk and start constructing the Chalice.  I may try the new spells granted me and recall myself back to Greyhawk and bring that person up here directly.  

I am also anxious to speak with Edvard Ghoulsbane, my Shadowed mentor back in Greyhawk.  Our last discussions were of methods to draw forth weaknesses in the Undead, making them more vulnerable to mortal blows.  For a long time this concept has eluded me, but I think I finally understand what he meant.

In my prayers, I will see if Pelor is pleased with how things turned out here.   If he is, I hope that he will see fit to reward my companions appropriately, as they were not called here as Aethramyr, Thorkeld and myself were.

The Owl and her brother have reminded me vaguely of Zira and her brother and the strange curse that befell them.  If I find some time I’ll head to Brindinford and see if I can’t get more information about it and how they came to be afflicted.

I am upset to discover that Fraz set most of this in motion, and that he was behind the tampering with the mark and the brand, and the death of Brontal the smith.  I wonder how his enemies will take it when they discover that he was behind all this.  I will keep some sending spells in my back pocket and let some people know, including the priest of Wee Jas and probably Chavram.  It might do him some good to be distracted by other players in this game.

Off to prayers, and then breakfast.


----------



## dravot

*Sendings*

In an effort to keep all lines of communication open between interested parties, Dravot has sent out the following pieces of information via Sending spell:

First one is to Prestwick (leader of the Temple of Pelor in Greyhawk)

Our task here is complete.  People here need a cleric.
Please find a volunteer.  I will transport when ready.
More info when I return.

--------------
Second one is to Sebastian (yes, Sebastian)

Just met Fraz.  He's completely involved in this.
He's messing with your forces more than you can
imagine.  With his help, I'll stop you yet.

-------------
Third one is to the Priest of Wee Jas we met in the Puppet Theatre

Fraz Urb Luu brought isometril here then promised it to Mechanus in an attempt to start interplanar war.


-----------
Fourth one is to Rackhir (who may or may not receive it if he's on another plane):

I hope you receive this.  Ravenna and kids are ok, Coot is dead, grip on land is broken.  We are looking for you.

-----------
And the last one isn't a sending, since Dravot doesn't know anyone on Mechanus.  Instead, he summoned a formian warrior and handed him the following note:

Demon Fraz Urb Luu was behind the isometril theft.  He wanted you to try to fight a war with Acheron.


----------



## Valanthe the Sleepless

*I am a bit overdue...*

Excepts from Valanthe’s journal 

Well, a fine mess this still is. While we found out some important info and did what we needed to do, we are still pretty much in the dark.  And we have lost Rackhir, too.

Had I mentioned the extraplanar war we avoided?  Or watching Rackhir banish Fraz Urb Luu (what’s up with that name, anyways?  You’d think a demon prince could afford a better name!)?  Or seeing his wife (someone actually married Rackhir, can you imagine it?) act as an Avatar of Beory?  How about the suddenly warm sub-tropical forests where the black ice was?  I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say it’s been a hell of a week.  Get it?  Hell?  Demon Prince?  Never mind.

It’s bad enough we seem to be some sort of sounding board for half the deities in the Flanaess…the problem is that half the organizations in the Flanaess are out to kill us, too.  The list of deities and groups involved is staggering. I also have a few of my own to add, but not that I’ll mention to my comrades-in-arms yet. I’d best let the dust settle.  I mean, Dravot’s looking so….well, content.  I’d hate to ruin that so soon.  Far be it from me to be a name dropper, anyways.

While Trithereon kept to the normal fashion of answering in riddles, Ralishaz has been suprisingly straight forward, for now. Once, when we were outside the Coot’s compound waiting to attack, I heard the sound of dice once again. But this time there was a definite feeling of dread – like they’d be rolling 1’s. I had a bad feeling and we backed off for the time being.  I’m having a hard time finding a way to explain that one.  Kayleigh seemed willing to take me at my word…but Dravot…he knew something was up.  I don’t know how he knew, but he did.  He had ‘the look’.  I think all clerics must get trained in that.  Maybe that’s where Ardestor gets it from, I dunno.  Maybe a year spent in learning prayers here, a year learning the ‘what are you up to, young lady?’ expression.  I could see it.

Heh, Ol’ Ralishaz needs me alive anyway so I can pay back my debt. Once, in a moment of frustration I looked up and said to no one in particular “How can I pay back my debt if this whole place goes to Mechanus?” To my amazement I heard a voice say “who said you couldn’t?”.  It was a freaky voice…but I don’t think it was Ral, somehow.  That answer doesn’t irk me, it worries me.  Not that I’m planning on cheating on a promise, you understand.  As long as it doesn’t make my do something morally wrong, or go against my friends or comrades, I’ll do it.  Risk, I don’t mind.  Breaking the law?  No problem.  Harming others for no good reason?  I’m cashing out the chips on that one.

Mind you, I’ve got no idea what Tritherion thinks of all this.  I’m not exactly religious, but I ain’t planning on worshipping Ralishaz any time soon.  I still drop of few coppers (well, platinums, these days) in the collection box for Tritherion, if you know what I mean.  I’d like to say we’re still on speaking terms…but until last week, we never were.  So I guess we are now.  Sort of.  Stupid gods.


----------



## Tantra

*Excert from Aethramyr's Journal*

It has been some time since I've written anything in my Journal. After the
Debacle at Nightfang Spire, and the Loss of two of my companions, My heart
was not into writing. Even their subsequient re-birth, though a cause of
rejoycing, was still not enough to inspire me to put Quill to parchment.

But now, After the defeat of the Egg and the Rebirth of the land through
Revenna, I am in a frame of mind to write some more.
This re-birth is truly amazing. Grass has grown, trees have
sprung from nothing, and the weather is Quite warm now. A weight seems to
have been lifted from our Troop, and although the Rackhir's Disappearance
weighs on us, it's hard not to simply enjoy the new beauty that has come
this far north. I write leaning against a tree, watching Crescent stretching
his legs and playing catch with Meepo. Crescent seems to be glad to not have
to walk through snow anymore, and also to not have his fur caked in ice.
Meepo's Reptillian aspect didn't deal with the cold well at all, and he's
also a lot happier now that the weather has turned.

But all this started back at the begining of winter, after we left Nightfang
Spire and Gulthius. The comming winter put a halt on Campaigning, and we had
a few months of downtime comming. I needed to return to my task of
Sehanine's revenge on whoever organized the destruction of my village many
years ago, and my employment with Gelban does slow that down. Elves Age
Slowly, and Goddesses even more so, but My Task is always with me, and the
downtime seems like a good time to advance on my quest.

The only problem being, I wasn't sure where to start. Kayleigh was going to
Celene, and I thought that was as good a place as any. Find out who the
enemies of elves were at that time, and go from there. Kayleigh Wisely
points out that while a direwolf might not be a problem in Celene, Unless I
was prepared to watch Meepo the entire time, he would likely be turned into a pincusion
by the guards in a hurry. I make arraingements with Valenthe to...keep an
eye on him. Greyhawk is starting to get used to his presense, But there will
always be people trying to take advantage of him. Valenthe does seem oddly
eager about watching him, though. After having fought with her for sometime,
I see several elements of her style in Meepo's.

Celene was an adventure. I learned several things there, including I have
FAMILY! uh...sort of. Verilunda, Valenth's Shadow cohort, is my AUNT! or was
my aunt. or something. She was my advocate before the Queen, and said that I
deserved to Participate in a naming ceremony, a celebration of passage to
Elven adulthood. My Upbringing at a monestary had denied me this honor, and
while mostly Symbollic, there are some resources that are denied to elven
children, Access to some libraryies included.

I choose the name "Aethramyr", and during the ceremoney I recieve a Vision
from Pellor, reguarding the suffering of some of his faithful in the north.
I owe a Debt to Pellor on behalf of Sehanine, so shortly after Kayleigh and
I ride out to meet Dravot and Thorkheld, and presumably the rest of the
party. I had had a dream some time ago, and I mention it to Kayleigh because
it seems some of the aspects of the dream and the Vision are eerily similar.
My description of the girl in the Cylander ignights some recognition in her,
and says it sounds like the Black Archer who we had dealings with. Since it was
Rackhir's wife (we thought at the time) I would mention it to him when we
met up later.

(ooc: /<snip portion that's documented better elsewhere>. see most of
Kayleigh's journals)

Now the Great battle with the egg is finished, and we relax in the warmth of
the new-formed land. I spend my time healing the malnurished slaves and
those sick from contact with the strange metal that has been the focus of
all this. We will soon be travelling back to Greyhawk, and with the barrier
destroyed it should easy to teleport. I negotiate with the Owl and Ravena
for a decent stock of the isometril. I intend to try and revive the Art of
making the Paladin blades that was lost in the ages. Even if I never figure
it out, It will keep me occupied when my arms can no longer swing a sword in
Her name. That, Sehanine willing, should be a long time from now.

Another thought strikes me as I watch Meepo: He's been journeying with us,
and learning skills as we have. Soon, it will not be fair to call him a
squire. If it were simple enough he would be knighted if that is his wish.
It's not fair to him to spend the rest of his life as my squire, but what to
do with him is one more puzzle. Of course, if my hunch is right and Valenthe has been training him, I might need to find one of the rogue guilds to enroll him in.

The Downside of this all this is still the Loss of Rackhir. We don't always agree on...well, most everything. but that doesn't make him any less of a friend, and more importantly, What was drilled into me during the hate wars was you don't leave your comrades behind. Granted, on a nother plane means calling in resources best found in Greyhawk. But, and I think my comrades are of a like mind in this, we will find him and if there is a possibility of rescue, then we will re-unite him with his wife and children.


----------



## Valanthe the Sleepless

WizarDru said:
			
		

> *
> There are two key events that everything swirls around, and that have set everything you've discovered into motion.  Ravenna gave you some very big clues about it when she told you what she knew.
> *




??? Okay here's what we had learned from Ravenna.



			
				Zad said:
			
		

> *
> We asked Ravenna to please explain some of what had happened to us, from the beginning. She explained that there is a chosen of Beory born each generation. She did not know she was Beory’s chosen when she married Rackhir however. Then she was captured and imprisoned by Iuz. The Egg of Coot somehow attacked and killed one of the lesser boneheart, and captured her. She had been shuttled back and forth between somewhere (Mechanus perhaps) and was a connection to Beory. She was used to spread the black ice further south than it would have come. For a time the Egg hid her on Mechanus when Chavram attacked, but that did not work as the Egg had intended – on Mechanus she was a mortal woman, and conditions rapidly worsened here.
> 
> Over time the Egg grew more erratic and splintered. It started acting as two distinct personalities, depending on when you talked to it. It made deals and had discussions with various beings. At one point, strangers came in brown robes with masks and talked to it, but it was always in one particular personality for this. Apparently they were very angry at Chavram. Ravenna had the feeling that the robed men did not speak for their entire group though. They mentioned something about Chavram having an ulterior motive to facing down Iuz, and whatever it was, it scared them.
> *





Okay, it seems choices are...

1) The Egg attacked and killed one of the lesser BoneHeart (one of Iuz's inner circle)

2) Chavram attacked the Egg at one point. Meanwhile he also moved Ravenna to Mechanus.

3) The Egg had at one point been visited by the Horned Society, who were not happy with Chavram. (but they seem to be a splinter group of the Horned Soc.)

Okay, I am still not seeing the big picture as to which ones are the events in question and what it all means. And we still have the question of why Fraz would want to start an extra-planar war.

*Sigh*, I suppose everyone else sees something we are missing. 

Dravot, have you communed with your sun-shiney god yet?

Well, I hurt my brain enough, I'm outta here for now.  And to think I'm married to the Rat Bastard DM


----------



## dravot

*1-800-UPTHESUN*

Dravot’s Journal – Interlude after Lands of Black Ice

I have just _communed_ with Pelor for the first time.  It was a terrifying experience to be so closely tied with the deity, and yet I knew I was safe at the same time.  Kayleigh helped write down the responses, so I could concentrate on the link with Pelor.

Here is what I learned:

Is Rackhir alive and safe?
*Yes, relatively speaking.*

Has Fraz interfered with me or my friends before he messed with the brand and the mark?
*No.*

We prevented the war between Acheron and Mechanus.  Did Fraz intend for us to prevent it?
*No.*

Did Chavram attack the Egg's army in an attempt to gain the Isometril?
*Yes.*

Did Chavram attack the Egg's army in an attempt to capture Ravenna?
*No.*

Is Fraz attempting to stop Chavram's plans?
*Yes.*

Will Beory, Ravenna and Agner be able to defend the Isometril from other
attempts to steal it?
*Yes.*

Has Chavram removed any other binders?
*No.*

Will the lack of isometril affect Chavram's plans?
*Yes*

Are my father and brother too far gone toward undeath to be saved?
*No*

Can I help break the curse that afflicts Zira and her brother?
*Yes*


----------



## dravot

*Dravot's Journal (2 Entries)*

Dravot's Journal - Interlude after Land of Black Ice

Apparently, I am a hero within the church.  Pelor saw my actions against the Coot and thought them worthy enough to send a vision of them to all of His clerics.  I found this out when I returned to Greyhawk to pick up the missionaries that Prestwick had for me.

We were chatting and enjoying tea before I retired for the night.  I realized that Prestwick's offices were receiving much more traffic than they normally do at a regular hour, much less a late evening such as this.

I asked Prestwick what was going on.  He expressed surprise at my question, and informed me of my newfound status.  Indeed, there is to be a celebration in my honor in a day and a half.

I confess that I don't know what to think.  I'm used to a certain level of deferential treatment at home, but I've grown used to being one of the little people within the church.  To suddenly be elevated to a high status is somewhat uncomfortable, but I guess it's just the context.  It shouldn’t take too long to get used to.  It’s kind of funny that one reason father approved of my avocation was that it would teach me humility.  Oh well.

Prestwick has agreed to ask our clergy throughout the Flaeness to keep an eye out for Chavram's minions, or Chavram himself, in an effort to gather more information on his actions and whereabouts.  I am most greatful.  He also informed me that Pelor has granted us free _resurrections_ as a thank you for our service.

I had 2 notes waiting for me when I came back to these chambers.  Thora says that the temple of Wee Jas has requested to purchase some lands near Brindinford.  I am considering a counteroffer of a long term lease instead.  Rel Astra is continuing to pester me about a possible betrothal to his granddaughter.  I hope something else comes up soon, as this is becoming embarrassing.

Jasmine left a quick note.  More books are coming into the library.  I hope that she hasn't disturbed my filing system.  Sounds like things are going well at the house, but I'll see for myself soon enough.

Dravot's Journal Cont'd

We have narrowly averted disaster at today's festivities.  We were attacked by two awakened, enlarged dire tygers, directed by some hobgoblin.  I wonder what made our enemies think that attacking us in the middle of a celebration of Pelor’s faithful would be a good idea?

Pelor's will was certainly with us, as Thorkeld was inspired to do great damage to one tiger, and I was able to use His _searing light_ to destroy the other.  I am happy to report that for the first time I managed to _dispel magic_ in combat, reducing one tyger’s combat effectiveness.  That and a _recitation_ surely made a huge difference in our ability to dispatch the foe.  Everyone pitched in, using their own specialties, but I get the feeling that the local version of what happened will once again highlight my actions in this fight.

Unfortunately the hobgoblin committed suicide rather than be taken alive. We will speak with his corpse in the morning and try to learn something of what happened.  He carried the mark of Kargoth on him, meaning that he was most likely sent by Chavram.  My little message to Sebastian must have made him nervous.  Good.  I'm glad to see others nervous for a change.

Other disturbing news: Kayleigh handed me a sketch of Brontal, or someone impersonating him.  Gelban claims that he was spotted in Brindinford 6 weeks ago, and has reappeared in Hexpools.  Yet more stuff to take care of.  Never a moment's rest.  Now that I have the knowledge to make the Chalice, will I ever find the time?  I will try to learn more from here first before I go to investigate.

Kayleigh made use of some divine magics at home and told me that Chavram is basing his operations out of Raux.  I am a fool; I should have seen that, given the increase in undead activities in that area.  No matter, now that we know where he is, we can take steps to deal with him.  I am beginning to formulate some plans.


----------



## Zad

*Divine Wrath - Epilogue*

*Divine Wrath*

*Epilogue*


*OOC Notes:*

2200 xp for everyone. Thank Scorch and his puppy eyes for the extra 200 points.

*This Week's Adventure:*

As the day wore on, more of the former slaves arrived along with the Owl’s people. Things were very hectic and there was a general sense of confusion.  Dravot, Thorkeld, and Aethramyr were kept busy tending to the injured or those with isometril sickness. Ravenna was looking to us to somehow provide shelter for all these people. If you want an evil dictator deposed, we’re up to the task. If you want houses built… well, our talents don’t run in those directions. Then I asked “What about the caves the Owl and the other freed slaves were living in?” Apparently the Avatar of Beory was unaware there was a vast cave network a few miles away. This solved the shelter issue handily.

Even still, Ravenna was never grateful or thankful. She looked to us as though we were supposed to have houses prepared already, and was always somewhat cold. I was beginning to find her attitude towards us to be somewhat annoying. Fortunately however the Owl arrived on the scene finally. She had the experience and organizational skills that most of these folks lacked. Thanks to her, some of the chaos finally subsided and everyone started working together.

Dravot is planning to make arrangements for missionaries of Pelor to come here and help the people as they rebuild their lives.  In the morning he’ll return to Greyhawk and then return here the next day with priests from the temple.

It wasn’t difficult to stay busy, and Dravot returned with the missionaries and a few bits of information as well.  Apparently Pelor had seen the final moment when Dravot shattered the Egg of Coot with the Sunhammer and sent this vision to every priest of Pelor in the Flaness. He and Thorkeld are now quite famous, and there is to be a celebration in Greyhawk soon in his honor.  In addition he told us that as a token of gratutide, the church has offered each of us a resurrection to be used at our time of need. Dravot pointed out that while he now has, by Pelor’s grace, the power to raise the dead, this resurrection would not even require the body, and comes without the trauma normally experienced in such an event.

Since things were well in hand here, we took our leave from the Land of Black Ice.  For all the good and ill that’s come over the last year, one thing is for sure: travel is much easier.  I needed to stop in Celene briefly and used the helm of teleportation to do so.  Fortunately I was able to see Onselven rather quickly and explained my situation. 

First I was hoping to reverse the divination block on my Archers Nock, since it seemed to be no longer needed for the time being. Secondly, I was hoping that by use of the divination binder, the Queen might be able to make some sense of recent events.  Onselven was receptive to my request and we went to see the Queen in Court.  While we went through the various candle lightings, bell ringings, and so on of the Elven Mysteries, we exchanged information on recent events.

He was intrigued to learn of the origins of isometril and the recently averted planar war. He told me that the battle against the Gulthias Horrors and the orcs had been going well since I had provided them information and the alchemical concoction of Scorch’s.  But suddenly, a day and a half ago, during a pitched battle, the enemy retreated rapidly. Since then there have been no incursions and no druids or gulthias horrors sighted.  Some Champions have been dispatched to hunt what they could find, but most are being held close to the kingdom.  

As we enter court, the conversation stopped, then started again with new fervor. I was getting used to this and just ignored it. The Queen was reading an ancient tome with a Sule marking on the cover but set it aside as I approached. Onselven spoke with her briefly about my request and she said she would try to help. She bade me return in a few hours and we would begin. With the binder she could attempt to answer several questions and I could use the time to think of what I wished to ask.

I took the time to bathe and change, and pondered what would serve us best. When I returned, I was lead once again to the chamber below the ground, where the first binder waited.  The Queen restored my mark to normal and it was the trivial thing she promised it would be.   Then we proceeded on to the questions.

Is Chavram’s next objective a greater binder? Yes.

Is Rackhir out of Chavram’s reach for the time being? Yes

Is Rackhir out of our reach for the time being? Yes

Is the Adjutant with Rackhir? Yes

Are the orcs working with Chavram? No

Would it be wise for us to try and learn of Chavram’s plans and ulterior motive through the Horned Society? There are some avenues that could be followed but it is a dangerous path. Choose the wrong person to question and it could be great danger. 

[OOC: This ulterior motive of Chavram’s has been of interest to us and we’ve been trying to zero in on it.]

Should we try to get to the lost binders before Chavram does? Failure to gather at least one of the contested greater binders would be disasterous. However the time is not yet right.  (The Queen indicated she could foresee us pursuing a bonder, concealed and under guardianship for 500 years. We will seek it under the earth.  She could see the symbol of Therizdun, and saw us in a maze.  The elven symbol for stone was also prominent, but she did not know the significance. This bore a great similarity to the vision Aethramyr and I shared while riding Tongs.)

Does Chavram have a fixed base of operations? Yes

Does Iuz know the ulterior motive that Chavram has? No

Will the messages Dravot sent cause inconvenience for our enemies? Yes

[OOC: Ok, so I was running out of ideas. Gimme a break.]

I thanked the Queen deeply for her help. She dismissed me and said that she would contact me at need but until then I should do what I think best. 

Since we know that Chavram has one greater binder, and that one is here, that only leaves one more – the evocation binder. That will be Chavram’s next target and the one we must find first. But that would come later.

For now, I needed to return to Greyhawk. But first I realized that Aran’gel would likely be worried and decided to pop in on him on my way.  I arrived easily in Highfolk, but he was not there. One of the junior wardens told me he was with a patrol, chasing down a group of gnolls. Apparently several small groups had been in the area of late.  Of course this made perfect sense – it was the remains of Chavram’s army, returning after their defeat at the hands of the Coot.  I told him to tell Aran’gel that instead of killing them all, to have some of them followed to see where they went. It might lead us to Chavram.

And so I returned to Greyhawk. We each had matters to attend to and went separate directions. However I would check in with Lord Gelban and advise him of our return. I found him with The Brazen, and the three of us exchanged a great deal of information.

First, Nightfang Spire has been destroyed, and the best information they can obtain indicates that the Heart has been destroyed with it.  

Second, they believe that Chavram has a stronghold somewhere in Rauxes. He has not been seen but several bearing Cargoth’s insignia have. They believe Cargoth is working with Chavram.

Also the Brazen has a sketch for Dravot to look at. The man was in Brindinford six weeks ago but is not there now. They believe he is in Hexpools right now. If it is who they think it is, we may need to investigate further.

They also told me that a major temple of Vecna was rooted out and destroyed in the southern Yatls. It seemed as if they had been massing for some kind of movement but they are unsure what the target was. Also they had no Gulthias horrors, and by all indications, had no idea what they even were. It was a very sizable temple, and so if they had no idea about the horrors, it implies that the entire cult does not. Puzzling indeed.

I wanted to ask Lord Gelban about the symbol of stone, and said that I had received some information by means of the divination binder.

Lord Gelban said “The Queen has the binder of divination then?”

I stopped dead, horrified that I had said something to betray my people. Lord Gelban knew that there was a binder in Celene so that was no surprise. Obviously he did not know which one until now. I could only hope that I had not betrayed a vital secret or that Lord Gelban would not harm my people with this knowledge. Before I visited home, I assured Lord Gelban that I would keep his secrets unless directly questioned. I can only hope that he will now keep mine.

As to the symbol itself, it relates to the people of The Testing in the Lendore Isles. What they might have to do with all this is puzzling and of some concern to Lord Gelban. He said that he would investigate.

They were both very interested in the note we had recovered from the frost giants and how it came to be in their possession.  The problem that we knew virtually nothing of how they came to have this message or who were the parties involved. Lord Gelban resolved to have the matter investigated and perhaps they could find and question the one giant who got away.

After I left, I made sure to stop in and see Ariadne. She was quite worried about us, and me in particular and my visit assured her that we had returned unharmed.

At my next opportunity I talked to Dravot. I had to get through some of the priests who did not want to allow me access to “The Holy Brother Dravot” but I was able to get past them easily enough. I showed Dravot the sketch and he said it was Brontal, the smith who made the brand.  The murdered one. We would likely need to look into this further.

However first was the celebration.  It was a huge affair with plenty of ceremonies and what not. Thorkeld and Dravot were the center of it all, and Aethramyr saw no small amount of attention either. Valanthe and I were not of great interest to most, and personally I didn’t mind. It was their moment in the sun (pardon the pun) with their brothers, and I could not begrudge them that. In fact, the attention here would have likely made me uncomfortable anyway.

After various ceremonies and rituals at dawn, things became more like a celebration. There were something like three thousand people in the area, and I was stunned by the whole thing.  Around mid morning, we were all scattered in a large indoor marketplace that had been turned into a bazaar with games and assorted wares for sale.

But of course, nothing this festive can go undisturbed. The first thing that happened was someone shot an arrow at Scorch, but he couldn’t tell where it came from. This was minor in comparison to the next thing that happened. Suddenly, two large tigers grew up out of nowhere. Large…larger…now gigantic tigers, forty feet long if they were an inch. Tents were crushed and people dashed aside as they exploded in size.

Truly the sort of thing that doesn’t happen every day… unless you’re us.

We started moving into positions – I pulled back to cast a few spells, and was only slightly surprised to see one tiger look square at me and say “Run while you still can.”

I just smirked and raised an eyebrow. 

Scorch had limited options will all these innocent people around but a mass haste is always a good thing. In no time I had my shield and flight ready and was moving into position. Meanwhile Dravot was invoking a recitation and Thorkeld and Aethramyr moved up. Valanthe was trying to locate the archer who shot Scorch, and likely the man controlling the tigers.

Thorkeld swung his hammer over and over and each time the sound of crushing bone followed. His ferocious attack tore into the beast with a fervor I’d never seen in him. Aethramyr followed and between them they had badly wounded the beast.  Scorch by now had managed to get some height himself and what with the beasts so tall was able to put a lightning bolt across both of them without injuring the people below.

[OOC: Thorkeld is a cohort and as such is not a real combat machine. However we had a visitor tonight and he was playing Thorkeld, and ripped up the tiger like we’d never seen Thorkeld do. Part of the problem is that Thorkeld can’t hit the broad side of a barn, but these were bigger than that. Add a nice crit and he did 65 points of damage in one round. We were stunned.]

Valanthe had located the archer – a hobgoblin who was ducking around the tents. She had managed to close and was keeping him busy while we dealt with the big threat.

The wounded tiger was not doing well, and two arrows from me finished it. It went crashing to the ground, crushing tents and a few people.

I still had several shots left to fire, and I turned to the other tiger, the one who had spoke, and told him “Run. While you still can,” and opened fire on him, burying three arrows into him.

Those would be my last on him though – he did not survive much longer under our full attention. Between Aethramyr, Thorkeld, and Dravot using two searing lights, the beast crashed to the ground like his counterpart.

That left the hobgoblin. As I turned my attention to him, we were already preparing to try to take him alive.  Even from overhead I could make out the insignia of Cargoth on his gorget.  [OOC: Kayleigh has a spot check from hell]  Of course, arrows are not well suited for subduing someone. But I had a spell I’d learned from Aran’gel for just such an occasion and never had a chance to use it. A few words and gestures enchanted my arrows to pummel rather than pierce, and I opened fire.  My companions closed in and the hobgoblin was badly pressed. He jumped back and tried to activate a scroll he had, but in pulling it out, he tore it in half and the terror set in as he knew his fate was sealed. He was soon unconscious and disarmed.

[OOC: He botched his use-magic-device roll.]

We tied him up and were ready to revive him. However no sooner was he conscious then a green gas came from his mouth and he died with a gurgle and a single convulsion.  Dravot ordered the arriving priests to take his body to the temple so that we might Speak with the Dead in the morning. 

Loot
Take from all the stuff from Divine Wrath is 8724gp each.

Items went as follows

Sold: the mithril, the ring of alarm
Dravot got the green prism ioun stone and the ring of fire resistance, the rod of blessed rest
Valanthe got the wand of cure moderate, to leverage healing abilities.
Scorch got the spell book of course
Kayleigh got the ring of the chameleon (her cloak of elvenkind went to Dravot I believe)

From the hobgoblin ranger:
Chain shirt +2 (book value 4250gp - sell)
Battleaxe +2 (8310gp - sell)
Mighty Composite Longbow +1, +3str mod (2700gp)
Boots of Speed (like we’re gonna sell those? Sheesh)
Cloak of Elvenkind (2000gp)
Potion of Cure Serious Wounds
Arrow of Slaying: Lawful Outsiders (Kayleigh)
Necklace of the wild beast (3750gp - sell)

Selling off the shirt, axe, bow, and necklace yields an additional 3,591gp each


----------



## WizarDru

*Quick point:* The hobgoblin hunter, Mundroot, was NOT conscious when he 'self-destructed'.  Whatever killed him, he wasn't in control when it did.


----------



## Zad

*The Grand Tour - Chapter 1*

*The Grand Tour*

*Chapter 1 – When dead things attack*

*OOC Notes:*

Exp this session is 4300. Loot is a +2 kama and +2 bracers of armor.

*Notes for Next Time:*

The implications from these events are massive. I’ll come back to this.

*This Week’s Adventure:*

The attack had mostly dampened people’s spirits for the celebration, and the crowds started to disperse. Miraculously, no one was killed in the whole affair aside from those attacking. The hobgoblin’s body was carried away to the temple for examination and the scene outside cleaned up.

While they examined the body, Scorch and I started heading for Lord Gelban’s estate to fill him in. We hadn’t gotten too far away when Dravot said that the body was still under some kind of enchantment and asked Scorch to return. Scorch, either too lazy to walk back, or just feeling like he didn’t need to, teleported us both back to the temple. The hobgoblin’s body seemed to be filling up with some kind of green fluid and was clearly bigger than it had been before. At that rate it would probably explode soon. Of course the temple was still packed with people and there now seemed to be some danger so Valanthe and Dravot did their best to herd the people out of the temple, with mixed results.

Meanwhile Scorch was able to contain the body in a wall of force. Once there we were fairly confident that it would be safe, and waited. Shortly the body exploded into a spray of green acidic poison, blasting the corpse apart. The toxin would surely have been a danger to whoever had been nearby.

After the explosion, there wasn’t enough left of the corpse to question with via speak with the dead so that line of investigation was closed. We just wrote it off as a half hearted attempt to kill us by Chavram and moved on. 

Valanthe went off on some personal errand, while Scorch and I resumed our walk towards the estate, and Aethramyr went off towards the grove.

I’m sure the assassins watching us couldn’t have been more pleased.

Scorch and I were in the High Garden district about half way to the estate when a loud popping sound broke the calm. Unless you are the one making it, a loud popping sound is never good. Scorch was slower to realize what was going on but I quickly turned ready to deal with whatever was waiting.

Of anything I might have expected, one of the last would probably have been Aeoket. The mummy that killed me, and was subsequently killed by the group.  Well obviously I had recovered, but so had he. With him was a towering monstrosity of a flesh golem. If Aeoket thought he would simply stupify me by his mere presence, he was sadly mistaken. It just made me all the angrier.

I didn’t waste time wondering why they were here – I got a shield spell back up. Fortunately my fly spell was still running from the earlier battle.  They had appeared about forty feet away and Aeoket charged at me, but was unable to lay a hand on me.

Scorch, recognizing the flesh golem and that his spells would have virtually no effect, told me on the link to take out the golem and he would deal with Aeoket. Of course my first impulse was to send Aeoket to a firey, arrow ridden death but I resisted the urge.

I sent out over the link that we were under attack. Valanthe responded with something short, curt, and punctuated with a few choice obscenities and Aethramyr added he too was being attacked. That left us each to deal with our own threat.

I started gaining altitude and filling the flesh golem with arrows. Fortunately they stuck well, and the fire slowed him down a bit. Given his monstrous arms and reach, this was a good thing. Aeoket meanwhile kept leaping about trying to stun me, and while he did wound me a bit he was unable to score any substantial blow.

Scorch made himself invisible and got some space to work. The golem fumbled about for him while I poured more arrows into his hide, and Aeoket kept bouncing around. Scorch finally had what he wanted and dropped a vicious fireball on Aeoket. Even the mummy’s amazing reflexes failed him and he was badly burned by the blast, some of his wrappings still aflame.

[OOC Note: A maximized fireball. Aeoket has monk levels and would have taken no damage had he made his save, but he blew it. He took half damage of 30 points, but it’s fire on a mummy, so double to 60.]

The golem and Aeoket were both badly hurt. The golem was staggering and coming apart from the hail of arrows tearing it apart, and Aeoket had suffered badly in the fire. The golem then either showed a glimmer of intelligence or perhaps was ordered out. He reached to a glyph drawn on his massive chest, and in a shimmer was suddenly gone.

Unfortunate since had he stayed, he’d have been “gone” in an altogether different way. That left Aeoket alone and my only target. I fired with a vengeance  and the arrows tore into him even as the flaming arrows re-ignited his fragile wrappings. I fired an extra shot or two just for all the pain he had put me through and watched as he crumbled into pieces on the ground.

Meanwhile my friends were in similar fights for their lives. Aethramyr was suddenly confronted by a fiendish rhinoceros. While dealing with the beast he was also on the receiving end of a flame strike. He never saw his attacker or where they were.

Valanthe meanwhile was ambushed by Redbone. Redbone is a threat to be taken seriously when encountered by our entire group. I think Valanthe was lucky to escape the encounter alive. When we regrouped at the temple, we were all injured to some extent but Valanthe was badly hurt, poisoned, and had been drained of energy. When she saw things were going badly she was able to evade Redbone and escape but surely luck played as much a factor as anything. Fortunately the priests were able to help her, but she could easily have suffered much worse.

Scorch and I had gathered up the remains of Aeoket, and while I had several ideas for satisfying things I would have liked to do with them, we handed them over to the temple and they assured me they could arrange it so that he could not return from undeath again.

Of course now the attack at the festival makes sense – it wasn’t intended to actually kill us, but to drain us of spells and soften us up for the real attack.

While we were licking our wounds, a runner showed up looking for Lord Dravot. He had been sent by Jasmine at his house, and there was a messenger there and it was imperative Dravot return quickly.

Dravot made to leave but I insisted we all go. Exposing ourselves to another attack seems senseless given the day’s events.

We slipped through the streets quickly and on our guards. Even in a city like Greyhawk where the strange is common, people were careful to stay out of our path.  We arrived at Dravot’s house and Jasmine quickly informed him that a messenger had arrived but there was something wrong with him. He would not let her tend to him though.

In the study was a human in his thirties.  There was a huge hole in his chest, sucking in all the light, as if a hunk of blackness was devouring him.  He was pale and fatigued. Aethramyr said the man was good but the wound was unspeakably evil. When I tried to detect magic, the level stunned me it was so powerful.

He spoke hoarsely and said he brought a message. On his way he was attacked. He urged us not to touch the wound lest we become sucked in. It was The Brotherhood that attacked him. “They have the part” he said. They used a fragment on him but he got away. He offered Dravot a message.

It was from his brother Gerrin.

_Brother

I pray this message reaches you in time. For two months I have searched in vain for news of missing family. At the cost of several lives, I have.  Or rather, our brother found me. He and father are bound to grandfather’s will but as of late they have grown stronger, and he more distracted.

While ranging east of Hexpools, I was beset by warriors reeking of undeath and bearing skulls of green flame upon their devices.  Were it not for intervention of our eldest, I would most surely be dead.

He told me of Chavram’s goal and what his need for the binders is fueled for.

Apotheosis

He means to destroy Iuz, and has from the beginning. He fears something and he sees this as the way to obtain a victory. But what he fears they do not know.  Chavram has plans to have your friends killed and has dispatched assassins to do the deed. Be on your guard! I return home on the morrow.

Be safe.
Gerrin
_
The messenger was delayed by the attack of course, and his warning too late. Still it was an incredible act that he had gotten here at all.  There was nothing that could be done for him – he had been touched by something very powerful and there was nothing available to reverse it. His body and soul was being quickly consumed. We could not save him, but we could at least save his soul and release him. I thought we owed him at least that much. A single arrow ended his life quickly and without pain. Without the man’s will to resist it, the blackness swallowed up his body in seconds, vanished as if he had never been.

[OOC Note: Apotheosis = ascension to godhood]

So the Brotherhood has one of the Theoparts. Likely the Black Brotherhood – the faction that has split away from the main group.

So for the fourth time, I suggested we speak to Lord Gelban. But we should remain together to be ready for any more attacks. Dravot was being uncharacteristically fussy about this and wanted to remain at his house, mentioning some project. I was of the firm opinion that we should all remain together since we were all clearly still targets. He finally relented and said he would begin work the next day.

I was puzzled at his stubbornness – we have multiple attacks, dire warnings, waylaid messengers, and he was being stodgy about a ‘project’. But I was to understand soon enough. It was likely Pelor’s wish that he remain, and he was subconsciously grating at defying it. Before we left he went into his workroom, and after some moments emerged with a golden chalice. It was a beautiful vessel, and surely enchanted. He said that this was the project he wished to begin, but that Pelor had just granted him the vessel completed. He seemed fulfilled and rewarded by this, and said it would serve to cure those who drank from it of injuries. 

A handy thing indeed.

With that objection removed, we made for Lord Gelban’s estate.  At the gate, Scorch was hailed specifically and the guards indicated that his guest was waiting in the moon tower. Scorch knew nothing of this and was dismissive but the guards insisted and described the woman, with no small level of nodding and winking.

Scorch started to get a look of what could only be called “Dread” on his face and said he would go see to it while we spoke to Lord Gelban.

Lord Gelban was in his study with a great many papers strewn about. With him was a halfling in brown robes. Having been pushed fairly hard today, I set the tone for the meeting by first pouring myself a drink, then sitting down, and then saying my hello’s.

Lord Gelban first introduced Bolo. The Scaled Council felt the need to add someone to help compensate for the loss of Rackhir and Bolo has been sent by the Druidic Council to join us. Apparently the discussion in the Scaled Council was rather heated and the arguments long, but this was the end result.  I asked if we were being given a choice in this matter. Lord Gelban paused before answering saying that as always, our opinions would be given “consideration.”  

I shrugged, thinking that was fairly reasonable, and said that we would be happy to let Bolo’s actions speak for him as time went on.

We then proceeded about the business of reciting in the most recent developments. At one moment there was a bear in the room, then not. I confess I wasn’t watching closely enough to follow the whys. At another time, a guard came in and reported the moon tower was on fire. Lord Gelban did not know what to make of this, and asked if we were under attack. The guard said that we were not.

Lord Gelban could only nod dazedly and say “Carry on then.”

By now we were getting to the heart of matters and Lord Gelban asked Scorch to join us, which he did. Lord Gelban requested that he be informed of guests in the future and Scorch then said it wasn’t what it seemed, and that the young woman was his sister. He did this in the way that most brothers refer to their sister, and in Scorch’s case it seemed punctuated with even more embarrassment.

Lord Gelban mentioned reports of a mercenary company called the Pale Grin, but would not have expected Aeoket and Redbone to be involved.  But he suspects they were the ones sent to assassinate us.

I inquired as to whether any word had arrived from Aran’gel who I had asked to follow the gnolls back to Chavram, but he told me that Aran’gel was missing. I tensed at this and he clarified that they have not heard from him in some time but it is unknown if Aran’gel is keeping himself hidden as part of his current activities, or if something has gone wrong.

As we were talking there was a series of muffled explosions. Most of us barely noticed but Valanthe was concerned. From the balcony she could see that the doors to the estate had been blown inward. Through the gate came a man wearing bright red velvets, his face scarred on both sides.

Gelban blanched and simply said “Infernus.”

I forget where I had heard it, but Infernus was a red dragon, a power akin to Lord Gelban and on the Scaled Council.  

Several guards charged towards Infernus but he brushed them aside with an absent wave. Lord Gelban turned to us and quickly said “The council is shattered. The chromatics have broken and it will be open war among the dragons for now. Get my daughter and get out.” And he went to face Infernus.

We wasted no time and searched out Ariadne. Scorch quickly retrieved his sister from the moon tower and we all met at the back of the estate and quickly got ourselves over the wall and away.

Throughout all of Greyhawk, armed bands of men were moving. Some had the standards of noble houses, while others were the town guards. Many of the men from noble houses were wearing a red armband, and some carried wands. 

Open warfare. Among the dragons, and among men.

We quickly made our way out of town avoiding any confrontations. It was unlikely that a band of guards would pose too much threat to us, but we had Ariadne and Ember in our care, and it would be irresponsible to risk them.  We made our way out of town quickly and once in the woods, had only one question.

What now?


----------



## dravot

*Exerpt from Dravot's Journal*

Exerpt from Dravot's Journal

...
Kayleigh wanted to go to Gelban.  I bid her safe journey and said that I would not go with the group.  She was being as stubborn as I was however, and finally I relented.  Mostly I was tired of hearing her nag.  I did put her off long enough to go to my lab and make sure that everything was ready.  As I entered the room, I went to the cup that was to become the Chalice.  It is of fine craftsmanship and is beautiful to behold.  I sighed as I picked it up, and told myself that it’d only be one more day and then I would start.  As I picked it up, the dream-vision that I had about Belline occurred again, only this time it took about half a second to do so.  I heard a voice, warm and fatherly, “It is done.”   I felt, a bit cold, as if life force were draining from my very being, yet I was not alarmed by this.

There was a brilliant light…surely I thought it would blind me, but it did not.  At once I realized that the Chalice was complete.  I packed it up and brought it along, that I might revel in it’s beauty once at Gelban’s. 

...

[Out of Character: The chalice can cure light wounds, moderate wounds and serious wounds 3x/day.   One pours in a potable drink, utters the appropriate command word and the drink is now a healing draught, but only as long as the draught is taken directly from the chalice.  If it is poured into another container, it reverts to it's original form.

Holy water can be similarly turned into a draught that removes curse 1x/day.  Dravot still expended xp for it, and incurred some of the cost of it's construction, and plans to donate to the temple in gratitude.]


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*A Halfling's View*

Bolo had been asked by the Druidic Council to aid the champions of the Dragon Lord.  He had no sooner met his new comrads when the Elven woman questioned his worthieness to be a part of thier group due to his SIZE of all things. They asked Bolo nothing about himself.... Just automaticly judged him by his hight.
Bolo was less than impressed. 
The only companion he seems to have with them is the Mage who treated him as an equil at first meeting and the Dire wolf partner of the Paladin.


----------



## Zad

The Scroll: I have it - having it scanned.

Regarding Bolo - no short jokes came from the elven lady.  Lord Gelban said he was to join us. I asked if we had a choice in the matter. Lord Gelban hesitated and finally said that our opinion would, as always, be taken into consideration. I said that was good enough for me, and I was sure Bolo would prove his worth by his deeds in what would come.

Then somebody ELSE made a short joke!


Now the _reason_ I asked if we had a choice is simple. It was clear from what Gelban said, and what he didn't say, that there was a lot of grief in the Council over this and other things. By resisting the addition and seeing Gelban's reaction, it gives me a sense of what side of the argument he was on, and just how hotly contested it was. Gelban gives us a very free hand and takes our wishes and opinions seriously. Here's what was said between the lines:

Me: Do we get a choice? What if we don't want him?

Gelban: Tough noogies. I had to argue enough in council as it was, and I can't spend the political capital to block it if you don't want him. So take him.

If it were someone besides a druid from the Druidic Council, I would also be concerned about where the person's loyalties lay, but in this case that's not as big a worry.

Kayleigh has no problems with Bolo, him being added, (or short things in general). The resistance was an attempt to find out what we were _not_ being told.


----------



## Valanthe the Sleepless

*Valanthe’s Journal – The Grand Tour – part 1*

How’d I manage to get my battered self  to the temple of Pelor? Let’s just chalk it up to my burning desire for a rematch with that bitch…

So there I was, just minding my own business when the hairs on the back of my neck started tingling. Before I could even think “uh-oh”, they made their move. Fortunately for me, they were not as stealthy as they believed themselves to be. And unfortunately for me, I recognized the tell-tale signs (or should I say lack of signs?) of Redbone. 

She was wasting no time and started right out with a death attack. But since I have been getting more and more accustomed to fighting the unseen, I wasn’t that easy a target. I tried to retaliate but hadn’t quite pinpointed her exact spot yet and my blade found no purchase. For a few moments, we danced – me activating my blink tattoo and she casting deeper darkness. Not like that helped her since I can see in darkness, though that was probably my only victory of this meeting.

About this time, my Kayleigh voiced over the link that they too were being ambushed. I was a bit busy and getting quite angry with the turn of events. I think my reply was a bit short with her, to which I am sorry for now. Just don’t ever ask me to give a speech in the heat of the moment, I could make even the stoutest of men blush.

At that time I was thinking that I could take her. We traded blows back and forth quickly, with me getting poisoned. Silly me, I must have tried to stop her blade with my flesh. Then, being a wight, she managed to land a good attack on me, and I felt myself weakened a bit. I thought for a moment, and still being a bit overconfident, I tried to shrug it off and continue.

About 2 more drains later, feverish from the poison, I thought “Hmmm, I think that’s my blood all over me. That can’t be good.” So I said, “Well, I really would love to stay and play some more, but I think I hear Trithereon calling…” and with what little strength I still had, I managed to shadow jump out of reach, up a wall, and ran the roof tops to the temple.

Which brings me back to where I started this little romp…

I will rest a bit before I meet up with the rest of the group. I need to blow off some steam before I can be civil again. I am not sure what was wounded more, me or my pride.

But do know this, Redbone, we will definitely dance again, I promise you.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*Speaking of Small Druids*

Here is Bolo's stat block for those interested in the little scamp.

Bolo Brandybuck: Male Halfling (Lightfoot) Druid 13; CR 13; Small Humanoid (Halfling); HD 13d8+26; hp 97; Init +2; Spd 20 ft.; AC 18; Atk +8/+3 melee (1d6+1, club +2), +8/+3 melee (0+1, club +2), +13/+8 ranged (1d4, masterwork sling); AL NG; SV Fort +11, Ref +7, Will +14; Str 9, Dex 15, Con 14, Int 16, Wis 21, Cha 15; Height 3'5", weight 35

Skills and Feats: Animal Empathy +18, Climb +2, Concentration +10, Handle Animal +17, Heal +10, Hide +8, Intuit Direction +8, Knowledge (nature) +19, Knowledge (The Plains) +7, Listen +9, Move Silently +6, Ride +6, Spellcraft +18, Wilderness Lore +21; Ambidexterity, Track, Two-Weapon Fighting, Improved Two-Weapon Fighting, Weapon Focus (Club)

Bolo was trained to fight by a Ranger and spent much time in a traveling Ranger troup. He is very interested in the ecostructure of the world and other worlds as well.
He has a +2 staff (club to anyone else) with fire damage on one end and frost on the other.
+3 Leather armor
amulet of adaption
boots of striding and springing
a girdle of giant strength +4
and a bag of holding (type 4)

He has no animal friends from the spell. He will not take an innocent into danger.


----------



## dravot

*Some disturbing information*

We are waiting for Kayleigh to return and nightfall to come upon us, that we might make our way out of the city unhindered.  I drew Ariadne into my study and asked her a few questions in order to better plan our escape.

"M'lady.  I ask only out of prudence, please do not be offended.  What abilities, spells or items of majickal nature do you have with you that might help you to defend yourself if we should be attacked?  Knowing this will help us protect you better."

She turned,  looked at me, and then suddenly threws up violently onto the floor.  She retched for a half-minute, dry-heaving for another.  She sat, shuddering for a moment, as I offered her some water.  She insisted that she was well, and waved you off my attempts to examine her.

"I have my amulet, but it is of little use unless I am near death.  I know some simple magics, but these are mere tricks that father has taught me, such as summoning light into darkness, and masking my form from outside eyes.  Magics often fail to effect me, so it was critical I learn to hide myself."

She began coughing, and again took another drink of water.

"Do you know of any places where you believe that you will be safe?   Perhaps your father has some spots pre-arranged."

"All of the places that father set aside for us to hide were Dragon places....council places.  They would not be safe now, I think.  Maybe, maybe...in Hex...Hexpools...."

"In looking for a safe location for you, we are considering leaving the  Prime Material.  Will that cause you any hardship, and do you know how  that will affect your special bond with your brother?"

She began sobbing, quietly.

"That thing is NOT my brother.  Not really.  We are bound somehow, but father would never tell me how.  Leaving this world for some other?  I don't know.  Father never let me leave his side for very long.  Certainly never to other worlds.  He said some worlds weren't safe...because of...."  She pauses, for a moment, her voice dropping to a whisper.  "Infernus' predecessor."

I considered for a second and responded.  "It would appear that there are many aspects to this that I am unaware. Who was this predecessor?  Maybe he is no longer amongst the living."

Her reply shook me to my very core: "Father said that he'd died...but he hadn't...hadn't stopped.  He was called....Ashardalon.  He did something to himself...changed somehow.  They found out he'd gathered followers, done unspeakable things.  The council rejected him, and there was a battle.  Father wouldn't tell me much...just that he'd left this world for another, and he'd taken some dragons with him."

It would appear that for this moment, that option is unavailable to us then.

In an attempt to distract both the girl and myself, I turned the subject back to her health.  "M'lady.  As you may be aware, I am a healer.  We are in a delicate position, and if we are to move you to a place of safety I must know that you are up to an arduous journey.  You are feverish, and your stomach is quite upset.  Clearly this is more than the understandable stress of the day.  Would you be willing to share your condition to me?   I would keep it in the strictest of confidence."

"I am just shaken, sirrah.  I felt fine this morning, and even during our...journey.  If I were ill, I would know, surely?"

"I confess that I am not so familiar with the physiology of someone with your unique heritage, so it may be that I am mistaken.  I most certainly hope so, but I will continue to monitor your condition in case I am not.  Please rest until it is time to leave.  If I hear any news I will let you know immediately."

With that I left her in the study to tell the others what I had learned.


----------



## Zad

*Chapter 1.5*

*OOC Notes:*

Covers between game happenings that went on via email

*Between Adventures:*

The more I thought about the idea of open warfare among the dragons, the more it disturbed me and the more I worried for Celene. I felt I needed to get word about this back to the Queen, and also word about the lack of contact from Aran’gel. Perhaps she would be motivated to contact him through the mark.

The helm still had its uses for the day, and I asked the group if there was any objection to me taking a quick trip home, and there were none. Since we were now cut off from our primary source of information and support, it would be important that we maintain close ties to our other resources, and I’m sure that’s something they considered. 

I put on the helm and went to the palace.

Or tried to at least. It didn’t work. There was some kind of soft whump, and I didn’t go anywhere. It seemed that I was being blocked from the destination. This didn’t strike me as very unusual given that a crisis was afoot, and I instead teleported to my home and landed without incident.

The house was in turmoil. Servants were running to and fro, and it seemed a large group of riders had just passed through the estate.  I learned from one of the servants that Mother was present, but that Father had, at royal request, resumed his commission and military rank, and gone with a group of light rangers to the south for some battle. He had left some six hours ago. There was no military personnel left on the grounds but there was a Champion with my mother who had delivered the message. The servant only knew the woman by the mark on her neck – three wavy lines as the wind.

I quickly found Mother in the grand hall, talking to an older female woman. Mother was surprised but happy to see me, and introduced the woman as Kesla. She wore light leathers dyed green and looked very athletic. She was a Swiftrunner of Ehlonna – scouts and messengers.

“The trees are dying,” she announced. “All of them. Every living one in Celene is DYING. And the enemies to the south have renewed their attack, with new horrors. I was sent to rally your father in our time of need.”

I told her I had dire news of my own and would need to speak to the Queen immediately. She said that the palace would be open to a Champion and after a brief hug for my mother, departed. Fortunately I could make good time to the palace thanks to flight (something I grow increasingly fond of each day). Kesla left with me, and moved with amazing speed as her kind is wont to do. I eventually outpaced her only because I could move over obstacles but she moved with a grace that left my method feeling somewhat crude.

On the way I realized that it would require power on a grand scale to blight the trees of the entire country, let alone overcome the resistance of the druidic population present. This was grave indeed.

Just outside the capital limits, I was challenged by a group of the royal cavalry on hippogriffs. Once closer however they recognized me and apologized and let me pass. Two of them escorted me to a landing area at the palace.

There I was greeted by a bookish young elf named Fyndor who identified himself as Onselven's apprentice. He introduced himself clumsily and seemed rather intimidated and overwhelmed both by my station and my general appearance. He informed me that Onselven was in the chamber of War with the Queen, and that he could take me to them at once. He then abruptly turned and tripped, dropping several scrolls. He apologized and tried to maintain some amount of dignity, and then lead me down from the garden. The stairwells were full of activity, with archers moving to defensive positions about the palace, and many higher ranking officers.

The war chamber was an obviously seldom used grand hall on the ground floor. I couldn’t help but note that the items used for the fey mysteries, such as the candles and gongs, lie in disarray, apparently forgotten. The war chamber was a large room with many tables, and a huge tapestry some twenty feet tall hanging on one wall. The finely worked drapery bears a map of Celene, and as you watch, the image changes ever so slightly. Generals and other high-ranking soldiers discuss strategy, though some turn their attentions in your direction as you enter. Fyndor lead me to the largest table, covered in maps and missives, where Onselven and the Queen had their backs to me. The meek apprentice approached Onselven, who said "What is it, boy? Speak up! Ehlmenestra take me, speak! These old ears have scarce failed, yet." without turning. Fyndor stammered out something unintelligible as a new face stepped from around the table. A young elf, though older than I, he stepped out and offered his hand, as both the Queen and Onselven turned to see who he addressed. He said "You must undoubtedly be Kayleigh. I am Tirem the Fletcher." On his outstretched hand I could clearly see the archer's nock.

In all my travelling and moving about, I’ve had little chance to interact with my brothers and sisters. Seeing him here was oddly comforting and made me feel a bit more connected.

I accepted his  hand and gave a slight bow, then turned and moved before the Queen and bowed before her. She waited patiently and approvingly then quickly gestured for me to rise.

She said “We had not expected to see you so quickly in response to our distress, young Kayleigh, thought it pleases us just the same. First news of both my sons, and now my newest champion. At least some good things come of this trying time.”

News of her sons? I tried, but likely failed, to suppress my interest at that.

I managed to focus and get to the point. “I regret to say Your Majesty that it was not this new distress that brought me here, but rather ill tidings of another sort. News so disturbing I felt the need to bring word of it quickly. I was unaware of the plight here until I arrived.”

“I had two matters for Your consideration and I'll be brief: I believe Your Majesty already knows of the Scaled Council. I come to report that the council is shattered, and there is open warfare among dragonkind. Infernus has moved directly and openly against The Gilden and I suspect that dragons may be fighting all over the Flaness. While I cannot guess what this means for Celene, I knew it could not bode well and came as soon as I could to inform you of this.”

The queen was obviously troubled by the news, and it is obvious that neither she nor Onselven were aware of this development. She said “I have never trusted them prior to this, and now I see I had good reason. But why shatter the council? Why now? The chromatics must have a reason...or they found something that they think would give them the upper hand. When I have time, I shall turn my attentions to this new dilemma. Thankfully, we only depend on ourselves here, and none but elves themselves can be depended upon.”

I replied “The actions of the Chromatics does seem sudden and unexpected from what little I know.” I was somewhat surprised she did not inquire as to how I came to this information but was not about to question it.

I went on “The second matter is that Aran'gel has been out of contact for some time, and I have some reason to fear for his safety. However if you have heard news of him, then that concern may be moot.”

At this the Fletcher piped up. “Ah, yes, I encountered Aran'gel not four days past. I was heading south and he was heading west. In fact, I was to get a message to you later today, time permitting. He was most emphatic, and spoke very highly of you. I see what he meant about your eyes. Quite lovely, indeed, if I were so inclined.” 

At this, the queen fixed him with a riveting stare, while Onselven spontaneously broke into a coughing fit. Her burning gaze took you in for a moment and I could do little but blush. Then her stare returned to the Fletcher, who either hadn't noticed, or wasn't particularly concerned. 

“Regardless, he was leading a war party westwards, hunting some enemy archer and some gnolls, I think it was. He seemed to think that they were heading for the mountains, searching for something. He wanted me to let you know that when he was finished, that either way he would 'regain his hand' or something, whatever that was supposed to mean. Oh, now I remember, it was 'Regain his hand, regain her heart.' I suppose he meant you. He can be some thick-necked sometimes. It's a good thing he's so good-looking.”

The silence was suddenly broken as the near-shaking Queen snapped a wand she was using clean in half, filling the hall with a shocking crack. 

So, after facing orcs, goblins, undead, vampires, and dragons, now I’m going to be executed by my own Soverign. Oh well. I suppose it was interesting while it lasted.

For a moment, she looked as if she's ready to begin yelling, but the moment passed, and she seemed to relax...if going from hyper-tensive to tense can be considered relaxing. 

“YES. WELL. THANK YOU, FLETCHER. DID MY SON HAVE ANY. WORDS. FOR ME?”, the queen managed to say. 

He thought only a moment and said “Hmm? Oh, yes, he did, actually. He wanted you to know that he will serve his country faithfully and without reservation in times of need. And that he would always love his country, no matter how he might act. He told me that was the important part....'make sure she knows', he said. He wanted to make sure that no matter what might happen, he would always love his...*ahem*...country.” 

The queen mulled this over for a moment, and then turns towards the map, turning her back to you and everyone except Onselven. She remains quiet for several moments. “As for my other son, he is coordinating the southern defense against the Mak's forces, and these newer 'root' horrors.”

I was not even close to regaining my composure yet but it suddenly hit me. Archer and gnolls … moving west… searching…

The binder.

I turned to the Fletcher and the map saying “Where exactly did you see Aran'gel? From what you say, it sounds as if he was chasing some of Chavram's forces, perhaps with an archer on loan from Kargoth. If they were moving west and searching, then they are likely going after the binder.” With that I looked towards the Queen, for she would know the implications of that.

The Queen turned to look at me, her brow furrowed in concern. The makeup about her eyes is smudged, and it was clear that she hastily wiped away a tear or two. Onselven made an effort not to notice. I didn’t know if she was upset at the words from Aran’gel or by his apparent interest in me. I may not be of highest noble birth but I suppose he could do much worse. In any case the Fletcher replied “We met him around the Yatils, just north of the border. He wasn't sure if they were going to continue skirting the mountains, or head for the Crystalmist range further west. He was certain that they were preparing for an entry into the mountains, though. He said that they were travelling with several heavily-laden pack mules, and had at least one human with them, someone he didn't recognize. The man was wearing red velvets of a dark color, but they couldn't risk getting much closer without fear of discovery. Most of what they know comes from his familiar.”

Onselven asked “Could they know where the binder is?” Onselven asks. “We've searched for it ourselves, to no avail. A binder cannot detect another binder...they are enchanted to prevent it, and magics will not reveal its location.”

I answered chillingly “But there is the Great Index. It was at one time connected to all the binders and knew of them and their locations. At the very least it knew where the binder was when contact was lost, many years ago if I recall. It showed two binders in the western mountainous areas.”

“I have some reason to believe the site of the Great Index was attacked at the same time the Chromatics broke the Council. Chavram may have gotten access to the Great Index and is using that as a place to start looking. Even so it will not be easy for them to find - that binder is well hidden.”

The Queen pondered this. “I am unsure how to proceed.  We do not have the forces to commit to stopping them, if they are.  My son may be the only thing that stands to stop them.  If this was the intent of these attacks, it certainly has succeeded.”

I asked “Do you have the forces to defend Celene? My friends and I have someone in our care that we need to hide somewhere safely, and if we can do this, then we can turn our attentions to something else. However I'm loathe to turn my aim from Celene's enemies if I am needed here.”

“There is clearly a very well coordinated effort going on by someone to accomplish something. My friends and I have been involved in these matters much of late and in fact someone just sent assassins this very day to kill us. It may be that was the plan to take us out of the picture, in which case we are the wild card that can be used to disrupt these machinations.”

She said “We can defend Celene, at least for now.  I would rather not ask for help from any of the Uleks. This should be an elvish matter.  I have always trusted in the judgement of my champions...even when they choose differently than I might. I trust you to make the correct decision.”

Then she added, smiling “These attacks may not all be a single concerted plan, or a single goal. You need to stop thinking like a human, child.”

“Too long in their company I dare say.” I replied then thought a moment and went on.

“I doubt it's a single plan. More likely it's several diverse elements that are all taking advantage of a window of opportunity. And it is possible that they were all informed of this window by someone to facilitate his purposes. I should mention that we have crossed paths with Fraz Urb'Luu of late, and his plots run deep.”  It was of course silly of me to think that all of these forces would be working together. But it was very easy to believe that someone like Fraz let each know of a coming crisis that would allow them to act, and they each took it. Such a plot would be very much like him.

“If Celene can be defended for now, then I will try to apply my leverage where it can do the most good, and then see how matters stand. I will try to convince my companions to find Aran'gel and with him stop those seeking the binder - that will be of grave concern to them. Should matters change here then I am of course at Your disposal.”

I rose to depart at this, then stopped, and admittedly with some level of dread in asking, said “Is there any word you would have me carry to Aran'gel?”

She paused, then began to say something and then thought better of it. After a moment, she said, "Tell him that there exists a wide variety of healing magicks to restore lost limbs, but none to restore lost pride. His mother thinks he should avail himself of the former. Follow your own wisdom, child. You have served us well in bringing us this news. Should you be able to chance more of it, we know you will share it when it is prudent to do so. The blessing of Corellion upon you.”

I bowed, with a sense of satisfaction that I had done well for my Queen and country. I was glad she considered this to be worth her time and bother in this time of crisis.  She granted me leave to go, and before I did, I turned to Tirem and said “I hope I will have an opportunity to speak to you again. Soon.” He just grinned a bit at the chaos he knew he caused, and wished me well.

Once clear of the city, I teleported back and told everyone what I had learned.


----------



## Zad

*The Grand Tour - Chapter 2*

*The Grand Tour: Chapter 2 – The chase scene*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience this session is 3500.

*Loot:*

Two rings of protection +1 (Valanthe and Bolo)
Wand of mirror image 5 charges (Scorch)
Wand of dispel magic 10 charges (Kayleigh)
One potion of cure serious wounds (no drinking our loot)
Bracers of armor +3 (Kayleigh, old +2’s into the pot)
Three sets of mithril chainmail


*This Week’s Adventure:*

It had been an hour since I returned, and the scene was still most disturbing. It was quiet in our immediate area in the forest, but the unrest in Greyhawk had spread well beyond the city walls. Smoke and fire were in the sky from fighting both in and outside of the city. The Pyrmaid Arcane, home of the mages guild, had changed to a shimmering reflective surface. To the west, the dockside shanties were in ruins, and we could see warships docked instead of trading vessels. Troops were moving all around, flying no standard and giving no indication of whom they worked for. Worst of all, Castle Greyhawk was in flames. Visions of inhuman things danced in the smoke and flickering tongues of fire.

There was no word from Lord Gelban or any of the dragons yet. At one point we caught sight of two gold dragons diving and attacking at least one red and two blues.  At one point a giant copper took flight, pursued by three blacks. The copper became insubstantial and ghost like, and then disappeared, and the blacks, unable to pursue, turned back towards the city. At one point, all our dragon scales suddenly turned a dull silver. We were unsure what that meant – had Lord Gelban been killed they would likely have crumbled to dust – but surely it was not a good sign. Fortunately they still functioned – I’ve become so used to it I’m not sure how we’d work without them.

Then we saw footmen and horsemen moving in our general direction, beating the bushes and looking for something. Still feeling off-balance and unprepared, we moved quickly away by air, and put several miles between us and them.

It was a tense night but nothing else happened. In the morning, Bolo went to speak to the Druidic Council, travelling through the trees. When he returned, his reports were most disturbing.

It’s not just the trees in Celene that are dying – it’s the whole of the Flanesss. I could only stare agape at Bolo trying to understand the incredible power of such a thing, but he explained further.

There are places in the Flaness that are so old they are fading from this plane of existence. They are retiring and dying, somewhat like a plant. Some of these are leftover from before the time of the migration eastward.  One such place is the drow city. Another is the Grove of Porpherio. Propherio was an elf long ago who made a grove for his half-elven princess. Within the grove is Yggdrasil, the world tree. Beory invested a great amount of her power into it, and set the Green Man to guard it. All the trees in the world are connected to the world tree. The druids believe that the world tree is being attacked, and with it all the trees in the Flaness. 

The druids can hear the cries of the Green Man as they travel within the trees.

For now, there was little we could do about this. We still had our problem of getting Ariadne somewhere safe, as the druids did not believe they could protect her. We discussed the idea, and Aethramyr brought up Ravenna. I was not certain that Ravenna would be willing to do this, given her generally cold attitude, however there were precious few choices. 

Fortunately Ravenna was willing, and we quickly transported Ariadne and Ember to the Land of Black Ice. Ravenna too could feel the attack but had little more information than that. But she was willing to shelter Ariadne and Ember, and that took a large burden from our minds.

With that done, we turned our minds to what would be our next move. The more I thought about it, the more I felt that the timing of all this was no coincidence. I believe that the assassination attempts were supposed to take us out of play for the coming events. The fact that we survived them meant we had an opportunity to affect the outcome of what would follow. The forces of good had an ace up their collective sleeve, and we were it. 

We had no shortage of options – we could join the battle against the horrors assaulting Celene, we could join in the dragon war, we could search for the cause of the assault on the world tree, we could follow Aran’gel and find the people searching for the binder. And there were more choices besides.

Of them all, the binder was the most troubling – it was the most immediate problem, and the one that had the highest apparent consequences. So we set out to the west to intercept what we believed were Chavram’s forces.

We knew of two binder locations marked in the Great Index in the mountains – one farther north in the Barrier Peaks, and one more southerly in the Cryastalmist mountains. Fortunately I was still able to orient on Aran’gel somewhat. It was crude but it was enough to give us a general sense of direction and indicate that they had turned west and south towards the Crystalmists.  Using wind walk, and Bolo shapeshifting to a griffon, we were able to make good time by air and close the rather large lead that everyone had on us.

The first night, I had a sudden shiver towards the end of my watch. I realized someone was scrying on us, on Scorch specifically. I could start to see an eyeball hovering in the air. Bolo and I roused a few people and we were able to dispel it before too long. Of course it’s never that easy.

Before long, the fire burst up and flared. Part of it broke off and took on a humanoid form, with eyes like coals, and it stood there. 

Scorch recognized it. (How is beyond me, I can’t even begin to wonder about that.) It was a fire elemental he had summoned so long ago in the canyon near Nightfang Spire to heat up the rocks. They had a rather long conversation in Ignan. About mid way through, Scorch said over the scales that we had better prepare – someone would be popping in soon to attack. (Later, Scorch said that the elemental had been summoned and a deal made that he would find Scorch and report his location so that the summoner could then send an assault against us. Scorch was unable to convince the elemental to tell him who it was though.)

We had a few moments to cast a few spells and get ready, and it made a big difference. We were fairly well prepared and _mass hasted_ when a group of humans teleported into camp. They were lightly armored in mithril chain shirts and shields. Four had longswords while two had wands. Each was wearing a black armband and light clothing, mostly black.

I wasn’t sure what to expect from these men, but something didn’t seem right. They just didn’t seem like much of a threat on the surface and that was surely not true. But I opened fire quickly and each one dropped with a single arrow. Now I was sure something was fishy.

Moments after the dying ones died, and even while one of them was still on his feet, the bodies began to twist and deform. Tearing apart and in some cases exploding, they gave birth to twisted shadowy creations. So it seemed the Scarlet Brotherhood was attacking us again – this was far too reminiscent of the assault on Ariadne in Lord Gelban’s garden. 

Where once were men, now we faced three large winged demons, and three others that were wispy insubstantial forms of shadow. At least the true foe was out in the open now.

I opened fire on one and filled it with arrows while Aethramyr tore into another. Shatterspike bit deep into these beasts and they cared for it little.  Scorch was able to finish what Aethramyr started with a few spells.

The beasts let out a keening wail but only Meepo was overcome and froze in place. Dravot used a searing light and obliterated one of the shadowy ones and we all continued to work. As a group we fought well and together, and kept the situation under control.  Bolo must have done something to Crescent as he was much larger than usual.

I kept my attention on the demonic beasts – their wings were taking them up out of the reach of most of the party, but it only gave me a cleaner shot, and I slew the one I had fired at initially as blades and spells kept flying around the camp.

I turned to the last demon and he howled in pain as five arrows tore into him. [OOC: I had a good round and did 75 points. Shatterspike was having a field day on the outsiders, and the searing light was extremely effective also.] Scorch started opening up with lightning bolts and killed the last shadow beast and the last demon in a matter of a moment.

After dying, the forms reverted back to the shattered remains of the humans they sprung from. We quickly checked the bodies and then moved our camp a few hundred yards to prevent a repeat of that assault, even though we really didn’t expect it. That assault had to cost someone, and it was unlikely another one could be staged quickly.

At my request, Aethramyr tried to do a lucid dreaming to Aran’gel, but was unable to find him.

In the morning we took to the air again, and were able to cross the Lortmills far faster than either Chavram’s forces or Aran’gel’s would on foot. We spent the next few days trying to catch up to them and fortunately were not assaulted again. I was able to discern enough of Aran’gel’s direction to keep us moving in the right direction. In the foothills of the Crystalmists west of Sterich, we picked up the trail of several humans with heavily laden pack mules. We believed we were closing fast as we were much more mobile and not burdened with pack animals.

Between Bolo’s tracking abilities and my senses, we moved quickly through the mountains and came to a cave. Outside were two dead gnolls. Some of the arrows bore Aran’gel’s fletching, and others were unknown but of elven make. It seemed obvious that Chavram’s group had left these two outside to guard their exit, and Aran’gel and his men killed them and went in after them. This happened only a few hours ago so we were close.

Inside the cave, it quickly turned into worked stone, and a massive staircase heading into the darkness. Around the area were various carvings, and many symbols of Therizdun, in varying shapes, sizes and places.

Below, the stairs continued into the depths. We had to move fast or we’d loose this race.


----------



## dravot

*Dravot’s Journal: Journey from Greyhawk and to the Crystalmist Mountains*

We leave shortly for the cave, to hopefully find Arangel and Chavram’s agent.  From Kaltin’s information, I believe that it is Sebastian, but this is far from certain.  I will find out soon enough.

At least Ariadne and Ember are safe with Ravenna (or as safe as they could be anywhere, under the current circumstances).  I am pleased that I thought of that option, and that Ravenna was amenable to it.  The news about the trees is not good, however.  I have to believe that it is somehow tied to one of our enemies.  If so, I hope that we can stop it before irreparable harm is caused to the Flaeness.

Until last night, our pursuit of Arangel and the agent was uneventful, but we seemed to be making good time compared to them, thanks to windwalk and other spells.  We were beset upon by some shadow creatures who first appeared as men.  As we slew the men, the corpses transformed themselves into the shadow things.  I contributed where I could, with bless and prayer, and was able to slay one of the foe with a searing light (he seemed quite vulnerable to it), but they were immune to the fire of my flame strike and then took to the air where I could not follow them. The attack was well orchestrated, but we were able to hold back the enemy with fair success.  Nonetheless they are not to be taken lightly.  Our new companion, Bolo was very brave and fought quite well.

After Gerrin’s note, I decided to make contact with Kaltin (via sending) on our way out of Greyhawk.  I asked whether Chavram was going after the evocation binder, but the answer was somewhat vague.  He mentioned that Sebastian has defied Chavram.  I have inferred that this probably means that Sebastian is up ahead.  Kaltin has somehow managed to break free of Chavram’s grip and will hopefully be able to aid us with intelligence on Chavram’s activities, as well as more tangible help when the time comes.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Information was flying hard and fast. We had unfortunatly little of use to us. I knew that the Druidic council had to be appraised of the dragon's war and set off for the Elder Grove. 
Walking the Green has always been a blessing and a joy to me. Iwas unprepared for the cries I heard. There was nothing I could do to alter my course to find the source on the cries, just follow through to the grove. I was not able to see the Elders at the time., but I was able to relay the information to them. I was told that the cries I heard were those of the Green Man. He is the guardian of the Grove in a distant demi-plain. My mind reeled. "What have the Elders gotten me into" I said as I started my trek back to the Champions. I had found that the Trees in all but one area of the world were dieing. The great world tree was under attact and it's guardian was being tortured. There must be something I can do to aid him and repair my beloved world.

We were able to get the Dragonling and sorceress to safety and set off to find the next Binder (and save the archeress' love interest, I will speak what I see as truth) 

On the first watch on our first night out we were attcaked. 8 humans appeared and attacked. I was able to enspell the paladin's mount and make his strikes more powerful and tried to enlarge him.  Unfortunatly I was unaware of his magical status and the enlargement spell went poof. I saw that my friend Meepo was endangered by the sound from one of our opponents. I went a bit nutsa and assumed Dire bear form. I attacked one of the flying creatures but found I could not harm it. Instead I grappled the beast and was about to ground it so that Josan and Cresent could make short work of it but 5 shafts from Kayleigh ended that threat. I must finish making my enchanted gloves.
we were able to find the cave that the Champion had entered and I am unsure of my usefullness while in a non-natural setting like this. But I will trust in the Green about me and Ehlonna's blessings.


----------



## WizarDru

MasterOfHeaven said:
			
		

> *Bah.  This story just isn't the same without Rackhir. *




You might try messaging him here on the boards, he might consider doing a Story hour of the Return to Temple of Elemental Evil, which he's currently in the thick of, now.


----------



## WizarDru

*Meanwhile....*

The Thezzizz of the Waking Dream stared into the Omnipotex, sometimes more often than was prudent, or so his ahhna'inma all thought.  In truth, he knew this was so, but his hate could not be assuaged, and he needed to view those who would be his enemies.  He could feel them now, feel their mindstink...cluttered, disordered thoughts.  

He examined each in turn, contemplating each of them.  There could be no doubt, now.  Their paths would cross, as it had with the Ral'ishad.  The Random was among them, and it fed on such things.  

"Make the preparations", he intoned in a gravely, emotionless voice.  "We shall take it first, before they come.  Let them deal with it's horrible dreams."

"What of the captives?", asked his Luhtoa, his first.  "There will be no time for their suffering, as is required by the rites.  Are we to simply kill them?"  His tone indicated how much distaste he held for the idea.

"No.  Kill all but the one who once possessed *this*."  To emphasize his point, he raised the Omnipotex.  "That one...destroy his remaining crystals and break his legs.  Leave him to die, going slowly mad.  I will have mastered it by then, and no longer need his lifeforce."

And so it was done.

Let them come.  Let them fear the rage of their dreams, and suffer the dreams of the dead one.


-------------------------------------------------------


Oh, game this weekend, by the way.  

Cheers.


----------



## Zad

*The Grand Tour - Chapter 3*

*The Grand Tour - Chapter 3*

*OOC Notes:*

Exp this session is 1500.

Loot as follows:
1900 gp in assorted jewelry
4000 gp in coins
Potion of intelligence
Scroll of chill metal (Bolo)
Wand of Summon Monster I (Much giggling ensued)
Gauntlets of Ogre Power (Aethramyr)


*This Week’s Adventure:*

We took a moment to cast a few spells in preparation, and then began moving down the stairs into the darkness.  Valanthe had a concern about the many symbols of Therizdun that were carved near the top of the stairs, and her prudence proved justified – there was definitely some magic about them.  We tried to use the wand to dispel the enchantment but it wasn’t up to the task and required Scorch to act directly. Once negated we moved quickly past and into the caves below.  

We came quickly to a fork in the tunnel and I tried to sense which way Aran’gel was. My heart began beating loudly in my ears and my muscles slowly locked up in a distinctly unpleasant way at my attempt though, and I was left with the feeling there was something very wrong here. Bolo was able to tell that there had been some movement at least down one passage that was partially blocked by fallen rubble. Scouting beyond it, Valanthe found a small chamber with a large symbol of Therizdun carved in the floor. In an alcove on one side, there was a great deal of blood and the remains of some humanoid that looked as though he had been exploded from the inside out, his skin completely gone from his body. Looking up, Valanthe found more remains of the victim, who from what she could tell was likely and elf from Aran’gel’s group.  She retrieved the man’s bow so I could inspect it and verify it was one of Aran’gel’s men (and not Aran’gel himself) and we moved down the other tunnel.

Past more stairs, we came to some very old human bodies. From what little was left of their clothing, it seemed to be relics of the Sule empire. Along one wall was some kind of winch machinery made of wood but the cave wall had collapsed on it. From here the passage split again, and Bolo found indications that while Chavram’s forces had gone one direction, Aran’gel may have gone the other. (I’m thankful that we have Bolo with us – it’s wonderful to have someone who can track well.) It occurred to at least two of the group to look and see if Aran’gel had left any kind of mark behind indicating which way he went, and with some looking around, he had indeed left marks. Whether this was to find his way out or because he thought someone would be coming behind him was unclear to me, but I was glad to see it all the same.  The marks verified that Aran’gel went a different direction. 

So the question now was which way to go. Bolo firmly believed we should follow Aran’gel to muster our forces together and get more information on those we pursue, and his argument swayed most of us. Little did I know at the time that it would end up being a moot point.

The passage led to a pool of brackish standing water. The cave roof came down until it was only some inches above the water surface. 

Now all things being equal, I would have preferred to follow Aran’gel. However things just became unequal, and I didn’t relish the idea of mucking about in the water any more than Rasha did. We also had no idea what might be in that water, and fighting anything underwater is difficult at best. So we were discussing turning around and heading the other way when the situation . . . changed.

Valanthe was at the water’s edge Out of the water came a large beast with green skin and three arms. The stench was awful. The beast had two clubs in its hands, and the third arm hung from the middle of its chest.  Behind the rest of us, another similar beast came stomping down the tunnel. Neither of these were the primary worry for us though.

Suddenly, I had a sickening feeling, and I realized that it was all the enchantments running away, like water down a drain. In a moment, every magic spell and item ceased to function. We all felt it, and Scorch wasted no time verbalizing what at least some of us had already thought…

“BEHOLDER!!!”

[OOC: Hey, we all read Wulf’s too ya know.]

Our first thought was to kill the beast near the water so we would only be fighting on one front. I backed up a bit from the beholder, and came out of the anti-magic eye, and then opened fire on the beast. He was none too pleased at my attack but was too slow to respond immediately.  The eye tyrant then closed its main eye and began blasting Scorch and Bolo with various rays. To my surprise they managed to avoid any ill effects. Bolo quickly stepped into the stone wall beside him – a move which rather surprised me. I hadn’t expected him to flee like that.

Scorch and Dravot then followed with a stunning cone-of-cold/flame strike combination that staggered both the beholder and the other beast.  Aethramyr charged down the cave to the one I had injured and dealt some vicious blows. The thing staggered but was not ready to give up yet. (These creatures were very strong, whatever they were.)

Since the large… things were not dying easily, the beholder was the primary worry. I stepped back towards it and fired. It must have suffered badly from Scorch and Dravot, because one arrow from me was enough to make it shriek and sink slowly to the floor. That done, I turned my fire to the other three-armed monstrosity and put a few arrows into it. It was not at all happy with that, and those large arms had an amazing reach. I was fully expecting it to tear me to shreds soon. However it too was rather slow, and before it could respond, Scorch blasted it and Dravot was able to finish it off. This left only the one beast that Aethramyr was fighting with the two of them trading blows. Aethramyr had the upper hand though and it was not long for this world. I personally made sure of that.

[OOC: Poor Valanthe was engaged with the monster too but was having a rotten run of luck tonight. This also seems like a good time to point out that Bolo was saying that the eyestalks were valuable for spell components, and then I went on to the notion of making Beholder deely boppers.]

The creatures had some malformed jewelry on them that they must have taken from corpses and bent til it fit on their huge misshapen hands, but there was no other valuables around.  Bolo took a quick dip in the water and saw that the cave continued underwater to the north a ways.  Rather than take a swim, we chose to investigate the other passage. Just around the bend was a more recent corpse. The body was human, his leathers still wet, and he wore a black armband.  His ears looked as though they’d been ruptured and there was dried blood coming from them. We moved on down the passage.

Much to our regret.

Valanthe was up ahead as usual. I had hoped we could move through these caves faster since two groups had gone before us, but there were clearly many dangerous traps and creatures still in place somehow.  Suddenly ahead there was a shriek that seemed to come from the grave itself, and it pierced through the air like a cry of death. After it faded, Valanthe didn’t answer, and we moved carefully up to see her laying on the rock, only a small trickle of blood coming from her ear.

She was dead.

[OOC: Wail of the Banshee, 9th level spell. The entire party was hit, but Valanthe did not make her save.]

This was the third time one of us had died, and the impact was still profound. The group was numb with the sudden and random nature of her death.

Unfortunately we were now without Lord Gelban’s support to handle such emergencies. But we did each have a “favor” owed from the Church of Pelor. Dravot could now even raise the dead himself, but not today. He would need time, and that we did not have.  The Church granted us each a true resurrection to be used in our time of need however we would have to go to one of the few churches that had a priest powerful enough to perform it. So we would need to take her to Greyhawk.

And then it dawned on us. Greyhawk. In flames. In chaos. There would be little chance of help there. Dravot said that someone in Hexpools would be able to help, and so he took Valanthe’s body and teleported there.

While he was gone, we investigated the area. The trap, now sprung, seemed to be safe for the moment. Beyond was a chamber that must have been the lair of the creatures. Their stink penetrated the place, and the remains of a few bodies showed their preferred diet. There was the half eaten corpse of a gnoll and a pack mule also. In the ceiling were the marks from some kind of blast or targeted explosion.  At the back, was another winch system, and this one had been used recently. The shaft went both up and down, although the winch only went down.

Taking this in, it became more clear. I believe that Chavram’s forces (or was it the Black Brotherhood? The armband was a possible clue there) encountered the beholder and his slaves, and made a bargain. They gave them the bodies, and perhaps some trinkets, and the eye tyrant let them pass down the shaft.  Aran’gel and his men must have gone by the water route.

Bolo flew up the shaft as a pixie, and found a small chamber that was the beholder’s lair. A sack was on the floor with some items inside, but when Bolo went for it, the gravity in the chamber reversed. He was fortunate to be holding on to the bag and was not smashed against the ceiling, full of notably sharp rocks. After some futile attempts to get himself out, he informed us of his situation, and I flew up and retrieved him and the bag.

The bag had an assortment of coins as well as some other minor items. [OOC: DM sends props out to James Buck.]

Bolo did some more scouting and by communing with nature, he determined there were no elves that he could detect, but there were some large unnatural creatures on this approximate level. That in itself helped us decide to move down the shaft.

By this time Dravot had returned with Valanthe, now looking much better. She remembered nothing from her time “away”. I was relieved to see her alive again, and glad she didn’t have to go through the pain that I and Dravot went through. Hopefully none of the rest of the group would learn what that was like.

Dravot also mentioned that the Overking had attempted to contain Rauxes but had the opposite effect, and Chavram and Kargoth’s forces were now running around openly. The Overking was also apparently looking for him, but the Church in Hexpools kept his brief visit a secret.

We moved down the shaft, and saw several passages. The stone in this area was beginning to look more and more worked. One room nearby held a pride of chimeras. We decided that was best avoided and moved another direction through more caves. Various rooms had pictures carved into the walls, mostly depicting the rain of colorless fire and the emigration, which Dravot and Scorch found interesting.

We came to a room that was some kind of burial chamber. One skeleton had Suel robes. There was a large sepulchre of bones against one wall. The bones were of various colors, and many of them had words written on them. Dravot said that Suel traditional methods for protecting the dead from undead acts involves scouring the bones through magical means, and then writing information about the dead upon their bones such as names and other personal information. 

[We stopped here for the night]


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*A Halflings point of view*

We entered to cavern after casting some spells for protection. Scorch granted me a spell he calls Cat's Grace. Val was ahead of the party scouting out the way.  She and I were able to lead the party down to a small lake area. before we knew what had happened we were attacked. 
a giant of some sort with 3 arms appeared in front of us, and another right next to me (I was bringing up the rear) then the anti-magic field hit us. I was caught unaware, my mistake. before I was able to attack the Beholder (as Scorch called it) attacked. I was hit by 3 rays. The first one would have turnned me to stone. I could feel my limbs hardening but I fought it off. The second ray almost disintigrated me. I could feel myself loosing my substance. I fought against it and way able to retain my solidity, but I was badely damaged. The Third ray out and out would have ended my life. I could feel my spirit ripping away from the body of Bolo Brandybuck, but i was not done with this lifes trials yet, unfortunatly I took even more damage.
When I was able to move I called on the local stones to shelter me and slipped inside one inorder to make the creature think it had killed me, that way i could attack it from underneath as it floated by me. It never got the chance. Scorch let fly a cone of cold and hit one giant and the eye. next Dravot called a flame strike down on the same 2 creatures. then Kayleigh ended the beholder with a few well placed arrows.
I emerged from the stones and attacked the Giant with my staff but it was Dravot and scortch that killed it.

we eventualy returned to the other passage where we found the death trap and lost Val for a while. and I found the beholders treasure.
While waiting for Dravot and Val to return I dove into the lake and found arrow marks on the other side. I Communed with Nature and found that ahead of me was a major powerful eliv force and below me.. below the bottom of the lake was more evil but Nothing like the presence in front of me. I relayed that back to the party Via our dragon scales. I think it fell on deaf ears. I returned to the party and we went down the tunnel.


----------



## Valanthe the Sleepless

*Valanthe’s Journal – The Grand Tour, Part 3*

And here I thought dying would be a fun new adventure. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t, but I remember nothing. Zero, zilch. Oh, yeah, a few odd symbols of a square, circle, and a triangle, but I have no idea how the heck that’s related to anything. Boy do I feel like I’ve been given a bunch of jark jink.

I could blame my recent string of bad luck on ol’ Ralishaz, but it’s probably fair to say that I just haven’t been as careful as I coulda been. That and the damn nasty banshee trap that I fumbled on. Blast me and my case of over confidence! Last I remember was that I thought I had figured out the control for it, but I guess I stumbled over the last arcane word pronounciation. I barely had any time to mutter a curse under my breath before I blacked out.

Next thing you know, I am waking up and through the fuzzy haze I make out the forms of 3 older men in robes fussing over me. At first I thought “Eww” but luckily, I recognized Bellamy and then I realized what had happened and where I must be. Dravot was nice enough to get me to hexpools. Well, there goes that favor cashed in.

Damn, I’m gonna need to “study up” on Scorch some more so I can brush up on my magical trap knowledge. Looks like we are playing with the big dogs.

And someone needs to put a leash on that druid. He’s gonna get himself poked full of holes or burnt crispy or the likes.

Sheesh!


----------



## dravot

*Dravot's Journal (sidetrip to Hexpools)*

Today another of my comrades has fallen.  Valanthe died today when she unwittingly set off a trap which unleashed arcane majiks upon us all.  I’m not sure why she was the only one affected; maybe we were far enough away to resist the spell, maybe her concentration fell when she realized that she set off the trap.  I’m not sure that it would be wise to ask her, though she seems no worse for the wear.  After my journey into the afterlife, it seems rude to ask others about their last moments and their experiences elsewhere.

We were hot on the trail of Aran’gel, and of Chavram’s minion (who I suspect to be Sebastian, but only time will tell), and followed them into a cavern that most certainly seemed that it could have been the location for a Binder.  We avoided 2 other magic traps, found several corpses, both new and old, and fought a grand battle against a beholder and it’s lackeys before we ran up against the _wail of the banshee_ trap.

I gathered Valanthe into my arms and _teleported_ to Hexpools, as Greyhawk was not an option at this time.  I chose the library at the temple there…someplace that I knew quite well.  There were 3 novices in the library when I arrived.  I breathed deeply, remembering the slightly musty smell of books and their leather bindings and recalled simpler times when I was a novice here.

They recognized me immediately.  I’m still a bit surprised by this, but I forget that the faithful had seen the image of me slaying the Coot.  They were obviously confused by my sudden appearance, unsure as to how I had arrived.  I lay Valanthe on a table, and straightened out her hair, and explained without giving any details.  “My companion here had a bout of bad luck, and we need her back as soon as possible.  Is Bellamy around?  I _teleported_ here because I do not have the majiks today to bring her back myself.”  I noticed a small trickle of blood near her left ear, and I dabbed at it, trying to clean her up.

One of the novices ran for Bellamy, while a second one went outside to keep anyone else out.  The third novice kept me company.  “You must stay here.  There are spies everywhere and it wouldn’t be safe for you to walk around.”

I asked what he meant.  “Xavener is looking for you.”  When one hears that the Overking, an undead animus is looking for oneself, one tends to feel a shiver run down their back…which I did.

Bellamy arrived just about then, and after we exchanged a few brief words, took Valanthe with him to be raised.  I had thought that he would do it himself, although I had not specified this, and he took Valanthe to the head of the temple and Valanthe was granted her _true resurrection_.

I occupied myself with books while I waited for Valanthe and Bellamy to return, and sent for some hot broth and fresh bread, that I might bring back to my companions.  When Bellamy returned, we exchanged some brief words, as time was still pressing back in the cave.  Bellamy told me that Xavener had taken troops to isolate and cut off Rauxes from the countryside, but this backfired, and Chavram’s people moved about at will.  He also mentioned that there was someone helping Chavram.  I explained to Bellamy about Chavram’s plans for Apotheosis, and that he had allied himself with St. Kargoth; this deeply trouble Bellamy, and rightly so.

He had no idea why Xavener was looking for me, and said that he didn’t trust him at all.  I took this as good advice and pressed a few gems into his hand.  “From an anonymous donor.”  He nodded and placed them in a vest pocket.

With that we returned to the caves, to continue our search.


----------



## Zad

*The Grand Tour - Chapter 4*

*Chapter 4 - Loves me like a rock*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience this session is 2050.

*Loot*

From the beholder's lair, brought to you by random treasure tables:
1500pp
2000gp
100gp gem
800gp silver chalice
500gp idol of Pelor
130gp gold vestments (Pelor)
750gp gold comb
Scroll of protection from arrows
Scroll of lightning bolt
Potion of ghoul touch
Potion of swimming
Potion of cure moderate wounds
Scroll of protection from elements
Scroll of invisibility to undead
Scroll of detect snares and pits
Ring of protection +2
Scroll of entangle
Wand of melf's acid arrow, 33 charges (Valanthe)


*This Week's Adventure:*

We found nothing of particular interest in the burial chamber and moved on down a long hall. Ahead was a fork, with a small chamber in one direction. From the fork we could see corpses in the room but it was hard to tell how fresh. Rather than investigate we went to check for problems down the other hall first. Things were very quiet and only the stray echo of shuffling rocks and the gentle rustle of Aethramyr's chainmail broke the silence as we crept down the long rough stone tunnel.

That is, if you didn't count that clanging bell ringing loud enough to make your teeth hurt.

Something left an alarm spell waiting, and Valanthe walked into it. Over the clanging, I we could hear guttural voices. It was mostly orcish with some other language mixed in, and crude at best. One said something about "telling the master" and then grunted and howled in fury.

Whatever it was, I had the feeling it was big, and it was now enraged.

About then Valanthe was greeted by the sight of an ettin, charging down the tunnel at her. It had two spears and was hunched over in the small corridor but was intent on skewering her, and nicked her fairly well.

Scorch however was in no mood for it, and a quick Hold Monster had it frozen in place.  I was about to kill it when suddenly it turned to stone.

Stone. How odd. Scorch and I looked at each other - that wasn't supposed to happen. Of course with the hulking thing bent over, and now a big rock, there was no way we could get past it. We began to suspect there was another beholder back there and it turned its minion to stone to slow us down and protect it while it was held.

Bolo had an answer for that, and cast Soften Earth and Stone. The edges of the ettin softened and now it was just soft clay. Aethramyr easily pulled off pieces and cleared the hallway.

And nothing else happened. The beholder might be waiting for us to enter the large chamber ahead, or it might be waiting for the Hold Monster to wear off. Either way, charging in would be bad.

Valanthe moved up quietly to see what was happening. She slipped in undetected and could see the eye tyrant hovering over the exit of the tunnel, waiting for us, it's anti-magic ray covering the area. Another ettin was also waiting. In the room were several statues, apparently elven.

[Now, at this point, you just _know_ what we're gonna find. At least we did.]

Scorch summoned up a small xorn to drop on the beholder from above so that we could attack. However once it arrived, it said "Must obey the call of the Master…." And then it promptly tunneled away. 

So instead, Scorch took Aethramyr and Dravot and dimension-door'd to the other side of the chamber near the statues, and Dravot dropped a flame strike on top of the beholder. It was badly charred by this but was still able to counterattack. Dravot shrugged off the three deadliest rays, and Valanthe was subjected to a few others. Once the anti-magic cone was gone, I ran in and had a single arrow finish off the beholder, and then we started on the ettin. I fired away and put one arrow in each throat, and the beast howled. It was clearly not happy with me. [Two crits. And I never roll crits.]

The ettin had two clubs and had room to fight. He battered me with the clubs in return for the injuries I did, but we surrounded him and he howled more as attacks, both magical and physical, battered him, from Scorch, Dravot, and Aethramyr. By the time I was ready to fire, he was hardly standing, and it didn't take much to finish him off.

Another beholder, and we had survived. Dravot had taken a lot of punishment from the rays, but could have fared much worse. Otherwise we had fairly minor injuries.

I looked at the statues, and was not overly surprised to see Aran'gel and his men. All I could do is shake my head and say to him "You know, I said that you hardly needed me to come save you. That you could take care of yourself." Well, at least I could plan some interesting things for when we turned him back. I was concerned about his condition but at the same time, he was here and at least this we could fix. Of course, neither Scorch nor Dravot could do anything about it right now. I would very much have liked to have him restored, and in part because he could tell us a great deal about the people we were pursuing. But there was simply no way to fix it right now, and hopefully he would be safe enough in his present state. As much as I would have liked to stop and rest and restore him, it seemed more prudent to press on.

The room was rather odd. It was originally a room but it had obviously been enlarged by the beholder with its disintegrate ray. There was also a lair carved into the ceiling where the beast had its treasures stored.

The other chamber from the fork had human corpses. They were killed in the last few weeks, rather than days.  They were dressed in finery similar to the Sule in the murals, but somehow cruder. It was as if these clothes were an attempt to re-create what was shown in the murals, and the result was not as high quality.

One passage from the lair opened into a large chasm. It seemed this was once some kind of great hall with a rich ceiling and murals, but that some kind of shift in the earth had opened a chasm and the floor disappeared into the black depths. There was a wood and rope bridge that connected the two sides, and various passageways leading out.

We crossed to one end of the bridge, using flight and various other means to span the chasm and proceeded from there. At an intersection we found a large symbol inset into the floor - a circle of mithril inset with a triangle of gold inset with a square of silver.  As Valanthe approached it, she had a vision.

[I would like to note for the readers that this marks the longest period of time that the party has gone without any sort of vision. Cheers on a new record for us.]

What she saw was hard to describe - there was a loss of perspective and things moving in ways impossible to describe.  She did see several tall spires made of a crystalline material along with glass and bone.  

She was standing in the middle of a large triangle formed by three objects. One was between her and the fortress and was a large purple crystal with a mithril circle inscribed on it.  The others had a square and a triangle.

She felt compelled to look at the fortress and the landscape on which it sat. It was between two valleys, both strangely smooth.

Suddenly the land moved, and it all became clear - the valleys were immense eyelids. They opened for just a fraction of a second then closed - she was standing on an immense face of some being.

She then heard "A debt must be paid" and she heard the rolling of dice. And then she snapped back to the present.

She chose to step on the symbol, and a whispering wind blew through the tunnel and in the distance she heard "still…trapped."

[Another whispering wind blew through, this time it said "Brownies….fresh…brownies…" Yum.]

Valanthe asked where the binder was, and a voice, clearer this time, said it didn't know. They (the voice spoke in plural) were the Ralishad. They kept her safe when she died. The Shadow King would have tried to capture her soul but they kept her safe. 

They seem to be some kind of avatars of Ralishaz. To free them, we must destroy the trapped djinn who's power keeps them here. (Obviously the binder is nearby though they did not recognize it by that name.) Or they could be freed by waking Ralishaz, or by finding all of the wakening stones. The Ralishad said we would have to get at least one from "The others who passed".  It seems our quarry has been busy as well. They said that the "others" sacrificed some of his own people to get it. Ahead it was clear what they meant - there was a small chamber with several dead human bodies. They were melted by acid, probably a gas. The opposite wall was featureless and solid white, but there was a small triangular notch.

Whomever it was, they had also been injured, and Bolo found a trail, partly in blood that lead back to the wooden bridge.  It seemed they had jumped from the middle of the bridge to one of the passageways. So that's the direction we followed.

We continued to find traps along the way. At one intersection was a gnoll corpse, very fresh, which one of the traps had obviously claimed. I must admit I completely underestimated how difficult it would be to pass through this area.

The stone was becoming more and more worked as we progressed and the passage finally opened into a sizable chamber with a large set of stairs. Bolo was sure our quarry went this way. At the top of the stairs was a ripped set of bright red velvets, and an unholy symbol of Therizdun, broken in half. It felt as if someone had shed their disguise.

This area was also better maintained, and had no dust or decay.  There was some graffiti of therizdun symbols on some of the murals however. Most of the murals were replications of what we had seen before, but had the appearance of more a celebration of triumph over adversity rather than a simple history.

We were in a much more structured hallway, and behind one door was a terrarium while behind another was a magical symbol on the floor. From what Scorch could tell, it seemed to be part of some kind of magical transportation system.

Ahead was a large intersection. Each direction had a pair of torches on each side of the hallway, the flames a different color. The one directly ahead was blocked by a wall of force, while the other two branches went a short way and ended in a doorway.

Dravot spent some time manipulating the torches in an attempt to disable the wall of force. There must be some kind of trigger to lower the wall he reasoned. However while some things were happening, it was not having the desired effect. We decided to explore the other branches.

The doorway at the end of the right corridor had only a collapsed tunnel behind it, and so we promptly turned around.

The left corridor had more traps, which Valanthe dealt with. The door at the end was innocent enough, but on the other side, a dark shadowy shape awaited.

Dravot could only whisper "Nightwalker"


----------



## Zad

*Chapter 5 - Family Reunion*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience this session is 3500

Bolo was still sick this session, and hence found his way into danger. Good thing Dravot can Raise Dead. Nodwick anyone?

*Loot:*

2 brooches of shielding
+2 heavy mace of terror
adamantium breastplate
Tome of leadership and influence +1
Gems worth 4000gp
841pp
Greater rod of Silence Spell (metamagic feat rod)

*This Week's Adventure:*

The room beyond the door was once a grand receiving chamber of some kind, and fairly lavish. However a great deal of the decorations had been ripped out or scavenged.  Cutting across the room was a a swirling portal of black and purple energies  - a slow vortex churning and spinning. Even the very warmth was being pulled into the vortex. On the floor were the bodies of gnolls, frozen solid and recently dead.

However the shadowy beast with glowing red eyes was the more dominant element of the room and there was only a moment to see it before the beast shrieked, and a sickly yellow-green cloud appeared in the hallway searing our lungs.

Dravot quickly informed Scorch that these beasts were immune to most spells, and so Scorch started with a mass haste. Bolo put a barkskin on Aethramyr, and then Aethramyr and Dravot moved into the room to attack. Unfortunately the shadowy nature of the creature made it hard to lay a blade on, and we had only limited success in striking it.  I fired several shots down the hall into the room but hit mostly shadow.

[OOC: Ok, we really suck. This thing had some kind of concealment, and I've never seen people as a group roll so low on percentage dice. We didn't know it til later in the fight that it was only a 20% concealment, but fully three quarters of the attacks this round rolled under 20% and so we missed a lot.]

Valanthe was still in the hall, and the creature tried to Hold her, but she shook it off and moved in to attack as well. Like the rest of us, she too failed to find the creature's body. But we were getting better and started finding purchase. Aethramyr swung relentlessly, while Dravot and Valanthe kept at the beast from all sides, and I fired from down the hall.  I had worried about fighting it in the small space, but after some sound blows, the beast collapsed and dissolved into shadow and ran away like spilled ink. What was left behind was the remains of . . . something. Probably a human, and likely the one who's skin had exploded off his body in the earlier cave. There were purple crystals imbedded in the body along the body that cracked and turned to ash as we watched.

In the room, the portal still churned. There were four L-shaped brackets of gold that had been mounted on the wall in front of the portal. These seemed to be creating some kind of force wall that held the portal back, or perhaps prevented passage through. Regardless it was not a standard wall of force as heat and gasses (from the cloudkill) were being sucked in despite the wall. 

Valanthe and Scorch seemed sure it lead to the Plane of Shadow.

What was not so clear was the purpose. Had our quarry opened the portal? If so, why obstruct it? Was it so something could leave? Or so something could enter?  Scorch believed that both the barrier and the portal were temporary and would not last overly long.

This raised yet more questions about who we were pursuing. Descriptions seemed to indicate Sebastian, and Dravot felt that was the case. However other trappings indicated it was the Scarlet Brotherhood, or a faction thereof. On a whim, I tried to use the Dravot-seeking-arrow, thinking if Sebastian was near it might point to him. However it pointed straight at me - likely due to whatever magics protected this place.

However all this left us with no way to proceed save the barred passage. Dravot and the others resumed playing with the colored torches in an attempt to drop the wall of force. I had no idea how to proceed with this particular problem, and simply sat waiting. Part of me was thinking that we should reason it out rather than just randomly moving torches around and burning scars into people, but the others were perfectly happy to keep swapping torches around. A blue one here, a green one there. Two like colors definitely repelled each other. And as one swaps them around, various marks seem to get burned into you. I wasn't even near them and the flame arced and burned a square on my hand.

After a fair bit of back and forth, Scorch had both a triangle and a square on him, and then after another move was staggered when a circle was burned into his forehead. Realizing this was it, he tried to start exchanging torches with the red ones past the forcewall blocking our way. He was now able to reach through and the torches leapt from sconce to sconce at his gesture. By moving the two red torches he was able to move the wall of force to another passage and we were finally free to proceed.

The corridor beyond had a set of double doors plus two passages leading off each direction. Valanthe peeked into the room past the doors and saw a chamber the size of a grand hall or temple. A variety of different colored lighting made it very hard to understand the scene. There were four large pillars of solid marble, and the ceiling was some twenty feet up.  Along each wall were a series of alcoves, some with statues in them. In the central area the floor was carved lower, and the ceiling higher. And there was a glowing red being, his legs more of a burning mist. Around him circled three rings, each spinning and rotating so rapidly as to be a blur. The figure inside was clearly angry and kept trying to force his way out. 

The evocation binder.

Around the binder were four large rough hewn purple crystals. Periodically energy would arc from the binder to the crystals. They looked like raw ore ripped from the ground and were about ten feet high themselves.  At the far end of the passage, Valanthe could barely make out a large spider-statue.

We took a moment to cast a spell or two in preparation. But it wasn't long before whoever was in the chamber acted as well. The doors were blasted off the hinges and thrown down the hall at us. Dravot took one of them full in the chest but the rest of us avoided them.

And inside waiting was a bebilith.

The bebilith. There was no doubt. It was the same beast we met in Brindinford that posed as Dravot's brother. 

[OOC: Or, as we have called him for months, "Bubba the Bebilith".]

It simply laughed after blasting the doors, and then faded out. Scorch said it wasn't invisible - it had plane shifted. But we all knew it'd be back soon.

I entered the room and Sebastian's voice called out, echoing around the chamber.

"So Dravot, you've followed me all the way here. Will I never be free of you? I'll bring you before Grandfather and kill you right in front of him, as my Lord has commanded!" Sebastian sounded a more than a little unstable, but that didn't make him less dangerous. He cast a spell and tried to dispel the enchantments on those of us near the door.

Sebastian was, predictably, invisible. I threw a couple glitterdusts around the room hoping to catch him but had no luck. Then Scorch teleported into the room with Aethramyr and Dravot. Scorch wisely had see invisible cast on himself and spotted Sebastian right next to where Aethramyr had landed.

There was a door at the far end of the room, and a reptilian creature came running in, carrying some kind of spear. Scorch said something about "Slaad."

Sebastian hastily moved away from where the group had arrived and proceeded to tear the group of them apart with a blade barrier and a flame strike. After the blade barrier, Dravot was badly injured. Why Sebastian wouldn't just kill him is unknown to me, but he made sure to place the flamestrike to avoid hitting Dravot.  Oddly the slaad took the full brunt of these spells and was nothing more than a bloody mist. It seemed that Scorch's sudden move had disturbed Sebastian's plan.

The bebilith re-appeared and attacked me leaving a wound. Scorch had something in mind for it though, so I looked to Sebastian. Scorch had told us where he moved to and I wasted no time in glittering him so everyone could see him.  With that I opened fire and he cursed as the arrows hit him.

Arrows however were the least of his problems.

Valanthe had snuck in behind him. He had moved against one of the pillars, thinking he was safely away from the group, but in fact Valanthe was right next to him. And she took full advantage.

Sebastian had…changed. His one hand was shadowy, and there were other oddities. Whatever he was now, it wasn't an animus. And whatever it was, it had vital organs, and Valanthe found them. There was a hurk, and a gurgle, and Sebastian collapsed dead.

The bebilith didn't even notice.  Dravot hit it with a searing light, then Bolo, now a dire bear, attacked. 

And then the paladin charged. Shatterspike glowed an intense light, and Aethramyr smited the beast for all he was worth, He sliced it in two practically, and it exploded in a mass of rank ichor.

[OOC: Aethramyr did some outrageous amount of damage. There was one single attack with more than 50 points  and it was the first time a fort save for massive damage had ever come up. Of course we were still working out  numbers trying to get Bolo's damage figured out but he was pretty much dead in any case and so WizarDru just called it dead and was done with it.]

Sebastian was dead, and the bebilith was dead. Their play for the binder had failed. The conversation made it clear though that Dravot's information was correct - Sebastian had indeed broken away from his grandfather's control and sworn some new fealty. With luck, Chavram didn't know where he was.

We checked the area quickly, and Scorch spoke to the binder. I dug through my journal to find the name of the Prince contained in the binder - Prince Sumez ben Taal. He said a greeting in draconic, and the binder in return slammed him against the wall, and returned something in another tongue. From there they had an extensive conversation. Scorch only occasionally stopped to fill us in. Prince Sumez told him that the old Suel descendants had carved their way to this place with his power, but the strain was too great for their leader who died. And thus they were trapped here. The Prince also had no desire to be containing the Ralishad, and apparently if the bindings were destroyed, it would not only release the Ralishad but free him as well.

Scorch talked to Prince Sumez further, and then Scorch touched one of the crystals. There was a ring of light around the binder, and then Scorch was gone.

Fortunately wherever he went, the scale still worked. He was, it seemed, in the same area as in Valanthe's visions. He appeared to be on the shoulder of the sleeping god. Nearby was a domed structure - a mage academy of some kind. Scorch could not speak to the binder however from there. He saw some fighting going on in the distance but seemed to be in no danger himself.

And here I thought Valanthe was the impulsive one. Scorch was by himself on Limbo somewhere.

Then the binder deigned to speak Common and made us an offer. He said that he cannot force us to go but he will ask us to. He will transport us back to this plane if we go and destroy the three "intertial links" which will release the Ralishad and free him. In exchange, he will unlock the "Mark of Fire" within each of us.

I had no idea what the "mark of fire" was. But if he was offering it this way, clearly he thought it was something valuable. Frankly it hardly mattered - Prince Sumez didn't realize the implicit part of the deal: If he were freed, then the evocation binder would be gone, and no one could use it. I had deep concerns about finding this binder because I didn't think we could keep it safe from Chavram or others who would use it. But this way, we wouldn't have to. The binder would be out of Chavram's reach.

I asked for one other thing from the Prince - the binders have strengths and weaknesses. Their powers have limits. We would know what those limits are, so that when we are forced to confront those holding other binders, we are better prepared. He agreed to this, perhaps thinking it might lead to more of his fellow Princes being freed.

There was more discussion, but in the end everyone seemed ready to go. And so it was agreed.

"No."

Everyone turned on me when I said this.

"I am not leaving this plane on some adventure with Aran'gel in the state he's in."

It wasn't a demand or a threat, it was simply the truth, and no one fought me on it. We would need to rest and recover spells to free Aran'gel. The Prince said we would be able to recover spells at the academy but that wouldn't help in this context. He was impatient but reluctantly agreed to wait. It seemed that Scorch was safe for the time being so it seemed we could afford the time.

So we recovered ourselves. Dravot spent some time in meditation, no doubt considering his family. I brought down the four statues of Aran'gel and his men so they'd be on hand.

The next day, after praying to Pelor, Dravot was ready.

I'll admit my mischievous side had thought of a number of entertaining possibilities - mostly involving changing clothing or other such things. But in the end I decided to be nicer than that, even if it was fun to consider.

Aran'gel had been ready to fire when he had been petrified, so I sat down on an old chair just out of his view. And Dravot cast his spell and broke the enchantment, and the elves all returned to flesh.

As their limbs softened and returned to flesh, their minds returned as well. The process was quick, but slow enough for them to realize something had happened and they each looked around as they were able to move.

"You sir, seem to get into trouble far too easily if left . . . unsupervised." I said when I thought he could hear me.

He spun around fast and his face raced through being threatened, to recognition, to something a bit . . . softer, and finally around to realizing I was poking fun at him. Only after all that did he settle on confusion as to why I was there.

Some of the other elves were injured, and Dravot took them to another room to tend to them, politely leaving Aran'gel alone with me for a bit.

Aran'gel stopped several questions before they started and didn't seem to know where to start. So I made it easier.

"I was reporting to Her Majesty and chanced to be there when Tirem was. He informed me of his meeting with you and I recognized the nature of the problem. So my friends and I set off after you and your prey. Unfortunately we had a lot of ground to cover and could not catch up as fast as we might have liked."

"But we did find you, more or less" I added with a smirk. "And we found your quarry."

"Yes there were ettins - and at first we didn't realize the beholder was there. We had killed one and were killing another and…" he trailed off.

I smiled broadly as I started "'Oh Aran'gel can take care of himself' I told them. 'He doesn't need me to save him' I told them. 'He can handle it' I told them." At least he took the offered drink while I teased him.

He just looked at me flatly and said "You're going to be hold this over me for some time then?"

I'm just blinked at him innocently. "Me?" Then I couldn’t' help but start giggling. After I'd settled down I added more seriously "I'm just glad that we did decide to come after you. Well actually it was more going after Sebastian but the effect was the same. I would have been most put out to have you stuck as a statue in some unknown cave for centuries. To say nothing of your mother."

He smiled at that, until I mentioned his mother, at which he rolled his eyes. He finally decided to sit down, and I explained to him who he was pursuing and what they were after. After that I told him of the dragons, the orcs and so on. His face sank lower and lower with each bit of bad news.

"What of Lord Gelban?" he asked.

I gave him the only answer I could. "We don't know. We don't think he's dead but he is surely not well."

"Aran'gel, you said that if your people needed you, that you'd be there. Well they need you now. Your brother is commanding the forces in the south holding back the orcs. I've asked Bolo to arrange a wind walk so you and your men can get out of these lands much more quickly. Go to Celene, find Melf and drive the orcs back. "

He nodded, and thought about that. He said "My mother will not be pleased"

"Sometimes it's easier to ask forgiveness than ask permission. Simply find Melf in the south and join in the fight. The Queen will be glad for the help, and I'm sure you will have little trouble leaving afterward if that is your will. I wish I could join you myself."

Of course then I had to explain about sleeping gods and so on. I was trying to keep up a good front, but the truth was that orcs were attacking my homeland, and I was doing nothing to stop it. I very much wanted to return to Celene, preferably with the entire group, and smash the orcish armies. The Queen wouldn't welcome the help of outsiders, but I had the feeling that Melf would have been less picky. We can make a big difference in this war, and quickly. We could tip the balance and while the Queen might be annoyed with me, I doubt she'll be too cross if it protects Celene. Indeed I was hoping to ask my friends to do exactly that after we had finished here, but it seems Corellon has something else in mind for me. But that doesn't make me feel any less like I'm failing my duty. The binder was a threat to Celene and to the whole of the Flaness. But a god who's been sleeping for centuries upon centuries - surely he could wait a little longer.

But if we waited, then the binder would still be here, free for anyone to claim. And that would be very bad indeed.

But Aran'gel said he would do what he could to help Celene. I told him that I would come as soon as I could manage it. If he felt my place was on the field, he didn't press the point. He surely knew I was conflicted enough already.  

He was disappointed when I told him I had to go soon - the efreeti prince was already becoming impatient. There was time enough for a kiss and an embrace - it was the safest I'd felt in a while. Then I remember that this was the man who just had to be rescued from becoming a birdbath, and I had to bury my face in his shoulder to keep him from seeing me smirking.

And that was that, for now at least.  I explained the way back out, and Bolo sent Aran'gel and his men on their way. The spell should get them well into Keoland before it expires.

Once he had left, the Prince was even more impatient. We each touched one of the purple crystals, and a wash of light grew around us, blocking out all sight.

When it cleared, we stood on a hill. No, not a hill. 

A god.


----------



## Zad

(From Dravot, who's having a hard time with the boards today)

After the fight, I got a good look at my bastard half brother.  In the few months since I had last seen him, he had undergone a lot of changes.  He now had horns in his forehead, which was most certainly the influence of the abyssal, and his face was scarred as well.  Something in that change had made him vulnerable to Valanthe's sudden strike; normally undead are
unfazed by this.  I will take some notes on this and follow up later.  I confess that I was somewhat disappointed by Valanthe.s success.  I didn't realize it until now, but I had been secretly hoping that the last thing Sebastian saw was my face as I banned him to the afterlife.

Now that it is done, I'm surprised to discover that I am torn by what has happened.  I am glad to have an enemy slain, but my heart is torn for the loss of a brother that I never knew.  I wonder what might have been, had father acknowledge Sebastian's existence.  Would the tragedies of the past few months have occurred?  Would they have been significantly delayed without his assistance?  I do not know.  I do not know who his mother is (or was).  If I find out, I will endeavor to let her know of her son's death (though I will not tell her of the details, nor of my opinions about him).  I am considering taunting  grandfather with the news, but haven't decided yet.  I do know that I don't want to say anything until we have freed the binder, as our trip to Limbo would leave the binder unprotected in the short run.

In the meantime, I need to make some preparations for our next journey.


----------



## Zad

*The Grand Tour - Chapter 6*

*Chapter 6 - The Githyanki Hilton*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience is 2200

Next game is Friday, July 12.

*This Week's Adventure:*

I should add a few notes. The rather jarring notion of appearing on the vast body of a sleeping god made me forget a few relevant details.

Before we left I spoke to Prince Sumez again to be clear on our purpose. We are to destroy the "intertial barriers" but he had no idea what they looked like, or where they could be found. They should be able to be destroyed by physical or magical force as a mundane object though.  He will be sending us to the "Sanctum dome" which was some kind of magical academy. The people who built the device are supposedly there. But since he has never been on the other end, he is unsure where we will find the barriers. But if we destroy the intertial barriers, that will stop the siphoning off of his power, and he should then have the strength to break free of his damaged binder. He would then return us to the prime material plane.

I suspect he perceived some hesitation from us, and he mentioned perhaps rewarding us with a further boon should we succeed. I did not bother to mention that we had good reason to see him freed on our own, and there was little need for further incentive. Even if I did not know, I would guess him to be the evocation binder - he was direct, lacking any subtlety or tact. He thought that in order to get us to free him, he'd need to motivate us himself, not knowing we had other reasons. Well if he wants to reward us, I certainly won't refuse him.

Dravot teleported off to take care of some business, and returned the next morning. He seemed a bit . . . confused but I didn't ask.

In any case, we were on the astral plane. Scorch was there waiting, and was quick to point out that while generally the "rules" here were not going to be too much trouble, all spells would be cast very rapidly here. 

Nearby was a large dome with shuttered windows all around. Scorch said that when he got closer, ballistae began shooting at him. Once close to the dome however you were below their arc of fire. So we shrugged and made a run for it. A few of us were clipped by the ballista bolts, which had another interesting effect - a dimensional anchor.  The effect would only last for several minutes though, so we didn't give it much thought.

An inscription at the doorway of the Sanctum Dome read "Ruun-khazai". It meant "Grey Stone Hand" in githyanki. Ruun-khazai, according to legend, was large enough to hold 200 troops including dragon riders, and was swallowed up by a dark storm of energy about 100 years ago. Karloth the grim built Ruun-khazai and ran it as his personal feifdom.

The dome itself was polished obsidian sixty feet across, and iron shutters ran around the perimeter, except in the south where there were stained glass windows. On the top platform, a pale blue flag was flying in the astral breeze.

South. Hm. Well, we had to discuss this quickly, and while "north" and "south" had no meaning, we just decided arbitrarily that towards the head was north, and went about our business.

The doorway itself was blocked by an iron portcullis. Bolo grinned and stepped up to it and reduced it to rust with a spell and we were able to enter. Scorch then remembered another minor detail. (Scorch was already demonstrating the absent mindedness that seems so typical of wizards.)  We would not age here in the astral, nor would we need to eat or sleep. Nor would we naturally heal. However it's important to know that the time spent still matters and while we might not need to eat, we would be well advised to do so, since the effects will catch up when we return to the prime material plane, and could be fatal.

Past the portcullis was a softly lit, welcoming room lit with small lanterns. A fire burned in a brazier near the door, and a massive teak desk stood in the center of the room. Two iron doors marked the exits from the room, one marked "Domiciles" and the other "Diversions".

As we entered, the brazier flared and we were each encased in a glow. Aethramyr and Dravot seemed to be glowing markedly brighter than the rest of us.

Around the room were frescoes depicting various ceremonies and rituals. The entire place seemed very welcoming and had a certain elegance to it. Valanthe said the desk had papers of no interest inside.

We decided that we were more biased towards "Diversions" and went that direction. 

The next room was marked as the Hall of Swords, and contained an array of swords, all taken from vanquished foes. There was a statue in the hall that had some kind of magical trap or alarm on it, that we unfortunately set off. But the entire place had the look of being abandoned, and we didn't worry immediately. All of the weapons were of fine quality but not magical. Again, this was an expensive collection of rare weapons from a variety of locations, if we could find a way to haul it.

And as fate would have it the next thing we found was the bar.

It was a small tavern-like room, with tables, chairs, and the most extensive liquor collection I had ever seen. Some of the bottles were extremely old, and of course here they wouldn't age or spoil. Scorch estimated that the entire collection would be worth a fair price to someone interested, if we could find a way to carry it. Aethramyr and I simply began selecting choice bottles for our own purposes. Of course it would take an elf to appreciate that a fine wine is only fine if you actually drink it.

The next room had the foodstuffs, and was an even more impressive collection of rare and exotic foods. We stopped long enough for a meal since it was all here, and then resumed exploring.

In the distance I heard the sound of explosions, and Bolo heard it too. We opened a window and looked out and could see a sizable flying ship. There were conch shell elements in the design, and it had broad wings like an insect.  It was firing on the towers in the distance, which were returning fire. Energy was arcing back and forth between the two, but we couldn't tell who was winning.

But then we realized a fog was starting to fill the rooms and hall. A cabinet that had no lock would suddenly not open. It all sounded familiar, and I realized that something had activated a Guards and Wards spell. We decided to move on and see if anyone was coming to attack us.

Apparently the ballistae were not so easily thrown off their quarry, and we stepped into the hallway to be attacked from two sides by the animated artillery.

This was not good. For form's sake I fired at one, but the arrows simply landed in the wood with no real effect. The ballistae returned fire and missed, but where the bolts hit, the wall turned to stone. 

Fortunately the others had more effective weapons available, and Dravot's flame strike did a good deal of damage. Bolo followed his lead and used a second. 

Unfortunately we didn't have an unlimited number of them. Aethramyr set about hacking one apart but these things were very hard to hurt. I had no ready way to damage them so I just stayed out of the way. 

Oddly, the ballistae decided they were getting the bad end of things, and after three of the five of them had been destroyed, the remaining two retreated. I thought this was rather unusual behavior for an animated object but presumably whoever had enchanted them did so with the notion that the retreat for repairs when damaged.

[OOC: These things were tough. They were just constructs and nothing that mean, but we didn't have a lot of good ways of getting past their 10 hardness.]

The next room had a large theatre with a bare stage. This area had the stained glass we had seen from the outside. Around the edge were balconies with stairs leading up to them.  In one corner a stairwell lead down into darkness.

Adjacent to the theatre were dressing rooms, and in there we found the two ballistae that had fled. They continued to try to move further back into the room and we disabled them without any difficulty.

Beyond the theatre was a gallery. There were easels in neat rows, each with an oil painting. Most were of fierce githyanki or battle scenes. One was particularly violent and titled "Vivisection of a mind flayer".

We were finding a lot of very nice, very boring rooms and we picked up the pace of our explorations. One room had a desk with several speeches (perhaps scripts?).  One had a large loom.

And then there were the "Domiciles".  Apartment after apartment, each the same. All very nice of course, with an everflowing basin and all the amenities. But thoroughly dull.

We decided to move upstairs and see what was above.  And found some larger apartments, various frescoes, statues, and so on. We found two very nice bedrooms that were protected against scrying and other divinations.

If it didn't look like a large black dome, I'd want to find a way to take this place home. It really was a very nice place, once you removed all the items the githyanki called "art".

One large chamber had several bathtubs. Each was full of water, and I went to one and put my hand in. 

The water was warm and wonderful. And I looked up at Valanthe, and she looked at me. 

Scorch said "No. No. You are NOT stopping to take a bath now. No way."

Valanthe and I just smiled, but eventually we yielded. We have been travelling for some time and while a bath would be wonderful, it could wait til we were at least sure that there were no other occupants here.

And we moved on to another door, labeled the "Hall of Consumption".  It was a large dining area. But unlike most areas, this room was a mess. There were burn marks on the walls, blood stains, and charred furniture. Three green crystals were driven into the floor in each end of the room.  Ceramic plates were strewn about, most unbroken. Several goblets were also scattered about, oddly many of them sitting upright and full of wine. (We quickly guessed the plates created food and the goblets wine. At least we'd never have to eat Meepo's cooking again.)

Then suddenly the gemstones cracked, and three salamanders emerged. 

They said nothing - they simply screeched and attacked. Aethramyr took quite a beating from one. Scorch began with a cone of cold and Bolo followed that with an ice storm. Dravot used a Heal to undo the beating Aethramyr received.

I decided it was time for my new spell. I had worked out a way to bestow an elemental enchantment on a weapon and now seemed like a good time for a little cold. The spell flowed out quickly here, even though new to me, and my bow quickly iced over. 

The salamanders didn't waste time either, and were throwing fireballs and a wall of fire cutting through the room.   Two of them were badly hurt but still standing, and not showing any signs of giving up. I fired two arrows on one, and it fell, and then turned two arrows on another and it fell as well.

The remaining one summoned a massive fire elemental, which couldn't even fit properly into the room. Even so it managed to smash into me and injure me severely. We closed in on it and its summoner, and Aethramyr healed me enough that I wouldn't likely die if I were attacked again. 

I couldn't see to fire on the salamander so I fired on the elemental. It had no room to dodge, and the iced arrows worked well. Of course it was all for nothing, since Scorch and Bolo arrived via dimension door, and Bolo dispelled the elemental. Dravot stepped in to smash the salamander and put and end to the attack.

If only Bolo had told me what he had in mind, I would have held my fire for the real enemy. Of course, these are the things we learn together - I sometimes take for granted the years this group has fought together. I'm sure that after time, things will sort themselves out and we'll avoid things like this. Had this happened at the start of the battle, it would have been a serious tactical problem, but as it was, it was only a minor thing.

We were all badly burned and battered, and we set about healing our wounds before we had any more visitors.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*A Halfling's point of view*

We arrived on the dead god easily enough (though I'm not sure what the reprocussions will be for the Djinn prince smashing through the dimensional barriers like that.) Val and I are working well together I really like her, we filled my bag of holding with what food stuffs we did not eat ourselves. We're sure to make a mint on this in sigil of the Prime. I Loaned her my amulet of adaption since she has been having trouble with traps lately. She took it and seemed touched by the gesture. 
Kayleigh and I still are not clicking like I do with Val, Scortch and Aethramyr. I was healing Scortch from a serious wound sustained from a fireball and when we returned to the fight I saw an elemental and dispelled it. She had a problem that I did not tell her I was going to do it before hand. Some people are impossible to please. But I will win her over.

She has no idea what I can do to aid her if she would only ask.


----------



## dravot

*Dravot's Journal*

[OOC: Dravot hasn't mentioned this to the group yet, mostly because they hit the ground running, and he didn't think that it was the best battle conversation.  He'll tell everyone when they rest for the evening.]

My preparations involved a couple of quick trips home.  I used the helm to teleport back to Brindinford for the evening, and then on to Hexpools in the morning.  I evaluated my choices, and decided that for discretion purposes, it’d be best for me to show up in Thora’s chambers, rather than elsewhere in the house.  I thought that this would be reasonable; I didn’t want to alert anyone to my presence if I could avoid it.  Until I knew what Xavener’s game was, I was uncomfortable moving about in public, and I considered the main hallways of the manor to be public.

I’m not sure who was more surprised, myself, or Thora and Thorkeld.  They were…in flagrante delicto.  As they scrambled for something to wear, I caught a glint of gold on Thora’s finger, but I wasn’t sure what I saw, until I spied a matching band on Thorkeld’s left hand.  They had gotten married.

I spoke with my man-at-arms.  “I figured that you’d need at least 2 more days to get here.  It would appear that you were inspired in your travels.”

To Thora, I said: “At the very least, I should have been invited.”

Her response was meek: “It was supposed to be a secret.”

I turned to Thorkeld.  “I expected better of you.  You should have asked me for her hand in marriage.  I would have freely given it.  We will speak more of this later.  I have news of my own, and many questions to ask and then I will be going.  I have a strange trip ahead of me.”

Thorkeld tried to speak, but I put up my hand; I was not going to hear any more about this until a later time when we were all less…surprised by each other’s presence.

I asked if Gerrin was around, as this concerned him as well.  He was in Hexpools, gathering information.  It would appear that he had found his niche.  He was quite the spymaster these days.  I’m hardly surprised, but I confess that I did not see it as his calling until I was told about it.  It is good to know.  I will have to get in touch with him when I get a chance.

I told them that Sebastian was dead, and at the hands of myself and my companions.  They asked for details, but I refused to elaborate at this time.  I asked them to keep this information to themselves, as the fact of his death alone might alert Chavram to our activities.

Thora did not know why Xavener was looking for me.  I am left to speculate on this.  I wonder whether I’m going to need to develop some contacts inside the Royal Court.  It makes me tired just to think about it.  I currently have 3 theories: 

-	Something involving my eventual betrothal, whomever that may be with.
-	Something involving my ascension as Lord of Brindinford (fealty?)
-	The situation in Rauxes.

Of course, it could be any combination of the three.  I cannot think of anything else it may be.

I am relieved to hear that there are no undead near Brindinford.  Regular patrols have found nothing of the sort.  I was concerned about this, and now I don’t feel that I need to rush home immediately afterward.  Hexpools is having problems though, so my worries haven’t faded completely.

Rauxes is becoming the big problem.  Thora expects refugees from settlers in the area to start showing up within the next week or two.  I suggested that they start making arrangements for them now.  By that point it was late, and I slept in the corner.

As I left, I told Thorkeld that as I may be traveling incognito a few more times, that maybe he could arrange something where I wouldn’t disturb their privacy in the future.

Bellamy was waiting for me in Hexpools when I arrived.  I gave him full details about Sebastian, and the binder and our extra-planar trip.  He asked me questions about Sebastian, but I could not answer them.  I hadn’t looked carefully at the body for holy symbols or other religious regalia.  I promised that I would do so when I returned, and I’d speak with the corpse for more information as well.

He hadn’t had further word of Brontal, but told me that one of his acolytes who was investigating had gone missing.  Bellamy was worried and planned on doing a commune soon to see if the acolyte was ok.  I asked him to keep me updated as developments unfolded.

As I left, I mentioned to him that our foes were becoming increasingly powerful and that the Sunhammer was not as useful in these fights as it used to be.   I asked that he look into any other weapons that the Church held that I might be able to purchase.  He promised to look into it.

When I arrived back at the binder, I looked over Sebastian’s body for holy symbols and the like.  All I found was a black octagon.  My best guess is that it’s related to the shadow planes, but I have no proof to back that up.  Attempts at speaking with Sebastian’s corpse were for naught, so we’ll have to wait a while until we get any answers in that area.


----------



## Zad

*The Grand Tour - Chapter 7*

*Chapter 4 *

*OOC Notes:*

Exp this session is a chunky 5000. This means a new level for a lot of people.

Next game will be Friday, June 19. After that we'll be taking a break for several weeks due to vacations etc. and will resume in late August.

*Loot:*

Some. We're just going to ignore the goodies that are in the building for now. To quote Wizardru "If you survive, there's all kinds of stuff you can cart off but we don't need to go into that now."

Some might express concern about the use of the word "if" in this context.

Net result, at the end of this, we'll go back through the module and figure out that stuff.

*This Week's Adventure:*

After a fair bit of healing, we concluded that salamanders are not very nice creatures and we don't want to deal with them any time soon.

We also discovered that plates and goblets only worked within the confines of the room, which was depressing for everyone, especially those who have eaten Meepo's cooking.

The room beyond the dining hall was a kitchen. There were several piles of ash at various spots on the floor. (Perhaps the remains of the original inhabitants after the salamanders were done?) 

To one side, a knocked-over table was moving. Up, then back down. Over and over.

The most notable feature was in the middle of the kitchen, and was something very non-kitchen like. An enormous rough hewn crystal dominated the room. It seemed that it had been ripped right from the ground and was completely unworked, save for a small triangle of mithril imbedded in it.  The base of the crystal stretched into three tendrils that reached out like roots. The whole thing was engulfed in green flame.

Scorch took a quick look at the table, and concluded that an unseen servant was diligently trying to right the fallen table but lacked the strength to do so. After he set the table upright, the servant then went on to clean up the kitchen and dining room. Then he turned to the crystal.

After a time, and some conversation with Bolo, Scorch was sure that this was one of the imprisoned Ralishad. I suggested that since this wasn't going anywhere, we move on and explore the rest of the dome, and we could fiddle with it in the morning when we were refreshed.

Beyond the kitchen was a smithy and a library. The library held shelf after shelf of fine books, many of them rare works.  The smithy had a marble encased forge, and was clearly a workshop of the highest quality. Several magical sets of armor stood on stands along the walls. [OOC Note: this is some of the stuff we'll worry about later.] Aethramyr looked around the forge a bit while Dravot and Scorch looked at the books, but in the end there was nothing here that wouldn't wait, and we moved on.

Since we had checked most of this floor, we went upstairs. The hope was that we would quickly determine that we were safe, and be able to rest ourselves.

Ah, but to dream.

Just at the top of the stairs were two more green crystals, and the salamanders inside immediately came out of their stasis and attacked.  One salamander coughed out a fireball that singed a few of us. I turned my gaze on the salamander that had not yet attacked, not wanting another fireball, and put several arrows into him. Aethramyr then moved up to him and drove Shatterspike through him in a single, clean arc. The two pieces of the lifeless lizard fell to the floor as a gout of fire erupted from the cleaved midsection.

The other salamander decided that it didn't want to be on the receiving end of more icy arrows, and stabbed at me with its wicked long spear.  I was stabbed twice but ducked the third attack. However just as I thought I was safe, the tail came in from my side and caught me in the side of my head, and I blacked out.

The next thing I remember was feeling Aethramyr's healing touch again, saving my life for the second time that day, as he pulled me away from the beast. Scorch came bounding up the stairs, clearly annoyed with these things. He shouted something loud, and knowing Scorch, insulting, and extended his finger.

A sickly purple-black ray shot out at the salamander, and without even a gurgle, it fell over dead.

When I asked Scorch what he shouted, he smirked and translated from Ignan: "Your mother was an ice elemental."

[OOC: I was barely hurt from the fireball, but the attacks from the spear and the critical tail slap took me from 80 to -3 in one round. But Scorch got to try out his finger of death so it's all good. Thank god it blew its save.]

This level consisted of observation posts, and a ladder to the roof. From the windows we could see big plumes of smoke coming from the pyramids.

Again it took a lot more healing before we were all feeling fit again. At this point we were feeling fairly well depleted. Scorch still had a few nice spells up his sleeve but we were reaching deeply into our healing reserves. So we decided to call it a day and rest in the sanctum dome. Scorch dropped an alarm spell and we dug in for the night.

Of course, there was many benefits of this - an excellent meal, excellent drink, and a bath.

A bath. A warm, glorious, very very long bath. I decided that I need to find a magic item that will let one take a bathtub along while adventuring.

Out the window from the bath area, there was another bit of noise.  There were at least a dozen . . . well . . . puffy white cats, coming from the general direction of the four towers where the astral ship was docked.  I could also see about a dozen armed githyanki carrying silver swords heading for the middle of the area. (From the general triangle formed by the sanctum dome, the pyramids, and the tower, these were heading towards the middle of that triangle.) They were converging on some other force probably.

As long as they weren't coming here, I wasn't too worried. But since I was out of the tub, and since it had been an hour or two, it was probably a good time to eat.

So being cleaned up and with clean clothes, we ate a meal fit for a king. Valanthe was muttering something about the value of all this but Aethramyr and I were quite convinced that such things were made to be experienced, and now was a good time.

Given the tensions outside, we set watches continually, and then got some rest. During the night (a relative term in the astral of course) Dravot and Bolo watched a battle between githyanki and githzerai. Things were going badly for the githyanki until half a dozen more arrived mounted on small red dragons. After ten minutes, the githzerai retreat back to the towers.

Later, on Valanthe's watch, there was activity near the pyramid. Githzerai were being pummeled by some invisible force to the point of heads being bashed in.  One took off into the hills, and two beams of energy arced into the sky and came back down and hit him. Several parts of his body teleported in different directions.

I was the last watch, and towards the end, there were a series of strange explosions near the astral ship.  It wasn't fire but some kind of white energy.  One tower exploded and there were other explosions at the other three. I could see a pair of glowing white creatures tearing into githyanki (or maybe githzerai - it was hard to tell at this range even for me).  After another explosion, the ship began pulling out, leaving some gith behind.  I could then see a humanoid of some kind floating in the air, glowing a bright white, shooting energy bolts at the astral brig.

With the morning we turned our attention to the gem prison. Aethramyr tried to break it with a hammer but got thrown back. Bolo wanted to talk to the stone, and cast a spell to let him do so. I couldn't understand the conversation of course but from the look on the halfling's face, it wasn't being very productive. I think Bolo wanted to convince the stone to let its prisoner out but the stone probably didn't have that ability - it was after all a stone.

I suggested a shatter spell, and Scorch conjured one up from the spell pool. The spell was very effective and the crystal fractured at first, then exploded outwards.

_Only Bolo heard the terror filled cry of the stone as it realized it had been betrayed. He shed a silent tear for the stone._

Floating in the air in a fetal position was a humanoid. As it unfolded itself, it was nine feet tall. I assumed it was an assimar or something like that - it was human like, but it's limbs and joints were elongated.  It floated for a bit then descended to the floor. It wore a light mithril armor, and had no eyes, but just glowing shapes where eyes would be, and had a thick mane of orange hair. 

As the being touched the floor there was a backlash of energy. Most of the others were knocked to the floor as the ground shook violently. The entire surface of the sleeping god shook for a moment, then was still again.

He greeted us, and thanked us for his release. In gratitude, he gave us each a boon - the Boon of Chance he said. Of course he didn't explain further. He said that by now Karloth and his consort knew we were here.

The freed Ralishad went on about a few things but was both brief and enigmatic.  Much of it went by me quickly and I didn't ask many questions since our mission seemed clear enough.

Karloth is the gith that is somehow in charge of all this. He would be protected in his heart - it is his defended place. Karloth had defied the lich queen some time ago, and made an allegiance with the Shadow King.  (Apparently the Githyanki have a lich queen who consumed anyone who becomes powerful enough to challenge her. Githyanki willingly submit to this generally.)  Karloth's consort too, was powerful enough to warrant being consumed.  Karloth and his consort created this place, and bound the Ralishad through trickery.  The Shadow King himself then bound Ralishaz.

He of course urged us to quickly release his brother and sister, and we saw little reason to waste time doing so. Having released him, we were sure that Karloth and others would know we were here, and so we wanted to get moving quickly. Scorch cast an invisibility sphere and we made our way to the pyramids.

Moving over the surface we came to a crystalline grotto with large crystals sticking out of the ground like trees. Hidden in the grotto was some half dozen githyanki, waiting in ambush. Rather than fight them, we made use of the invisibility we had and crept past them and moved on towards our objective.


As we moved further south, there were more githzerai bodies. They were completely bloodless. There was no sign of what killed them but their faces were locked in an expression of horror. Dravot sensed a powerful undead force in the vicinity - it wasn't close, but it was in the area.

Over a ridge, I spotted a leathery humanoid head. It was stooped over, but there was some kind of glow indicating some fire beneath it. 

Maybe it was stalking us, or maybe it just noticed us. Either way we spread out quickly. As it came into view, we recognized it from our trip to the great index - a devourer. From a hill on the opposite side of us, another one was coming.

Scorch was in no mood to play games it seemed, and threw a maximized fireball at one.  After the fire cleared, there was nothing left but wispy souls drifting into the astral, freed from their prison.

We looked to Dravot next and he invoked Pelor's name to smite the other one. In a flash of light from his holy symbol, Dravot turned the beast into ash.

Of course with that, our invisibility was gone but that couldn’t' be helped. Quickly however Scorch noticed that we were being scryed on.  Scorch waved at the sensor, and it winked out. I found that a bit odd, but we decided to move on before anything else came.

As we got closer to the pyramid, over a dozen githzerai were coming towards us. They wore light clothing and moved like a blur. (Hasted, said Scorch.)  We suspected that the githzerai were not necessarily going to attack us, and we waited for them to approach.

Bolo however thought it would be a good idea to change shape into a dire bear. The gith reacted very poorly to this open, somewhat hostile move. Bolo seemed surprised that they would react poorly to this (although I can't imagine why he'd be surprised).  To try to calm things down, he laid on the ground in a passive position. The gith seemed to accept this for now, and approached closer. A dimension door opened and a githzerai stepped through.

He declared himself their Commander Tardalis, and Dravot and Aethramyr spoke to him.  

He asked "Do you plan to stand in our way?"

"Not in the least" replied Aethramyr with a wry smile. He and Dravot told them of the githyanki ambush in the crystal grove as a gesture of good faith. We told them we had no quarrel with them and would not oppose them as they fought their hated foe. When we mentioned the crystal, Tardalis said it was in the ruined pyramid, but they could not approach, as the "bitch consort" is guarding it and ran them off. We nod at this, and after a bit more conversation, head off to the pyramid.

[OOC Note: the party says "We didn't step on our crank. Yay us!"]

As we approached, two forms came running from the ether. They were composed of some liquid-like material, white with a rainbow sheen.  One was thicker and had a huge horn on its head, while the other was somehow brighter.

After a quick spell, I started firing but missed a fair bit. The arrows were at least somewhat effective against them.  Then there was an explosion of electrical energy behind me, and people were hit with some kind of electrical attack.  Revealed by this was a dark skinned woman. She had black wings like a bat and very short hair. She wore black leather armor and only carried a small knife at her belt as a weapon. Around her head floated a crystal.

Bolo charged in as a bear, and she had some kind of defense up which he sprung, and was badly injured as parts of him were teleported away.  Scorch decided it was time for a mass haste, and followed that up with a lightning bolt to the consort.

She somehow absorbed the damage but I was sure she couldn't keep that up all day.  Aethramyr charged in and attacked. Her skin shifted as he attacked but Shatterspike still found green blood in her to draw out, along with a scream.

Dravot moved in to support Aethramyr and hurt her more with the Sunhammer. Valanthe saw her moment and moved in, and made several hard stabs.

The ether beings sluggishly attacked, and while slow they were still credible threats. Fortunately we managed to avoid being too harshly hurt from them.

I turned my fire to the source of the problem and landed several arrows into the consort. 

And then she was gone.

There was a shimmer and a sudden wink in the world, and she vanished. The ether creatures were gone also.

[OOC: She used some kind of time stop ability and got out before we could finish her off. And it was pretty close too.]

I was not at all happy. She was a serious opponent, and I did not wish to have to fight her all over again, when she was better prepared and had more help. Bolo had quite enough pieces of him missing as it was. 

But there was little I could do but utter a few curses. We moved quickly into the pyramid to do what we came for, fearing she returned with help. There, another crystal waited much like the last one.  

When the crystal shattered, this time it revealed a female in a long white silken robe with flowing sleeves. She had dark blue skin and seemed to be a genassi. She was immediately in telepathic contact with her brother, and soon understood the situation.

"My boon to each of you," she said with a smile "is the gift of cheating." And she fanned out several cards from nowhere.  Each of us took one and it promptly vanished in our hand.

And our spells were restored and our wounds healed. We were refreshed and ready to move.

She believed her remaining brother was trapped in the ruined tower. 

"Then that's where we'll go."


----------



## WizarDru

Meepo scratched his head and sniffed the air.  He was still unused to life above-ground, and he certainly wasn't sure what to make of this frigid place.  It was quite likely he'd never get used to the concept of 'snow'.  He couldn't help but think of it as a cave-in that fell randomly from the sky.  

Crescent barked, and nuzzled Meepo's shoulder.  The small kobold absent-mindedly scratched the gigantic wolf's chin.  He had long since grown comforrtable with the Master's noble steed, and wasn't the least bit concerned with having the rows of hideous teeth so close to his throat.  Well, perhaps just a little concerned.  Old habits died hard.  Still, they were the best of friends, even though Meepo suspected the wolf just might be smarter than he was.

It had been more than a day since the Master and his friends had descended into the caverns below.  Meepo no longer accompanied them on such expeditions, as much as he might like to do otherwise.  He had long since learned that his master now tread in places where it was unsafe for him to be.  Both the Master and Lady Valanthe had taught him quite a few tricks at survivng some of life's nastier tricks...but there were limits.  Whether he was looking after Crescent or whether Crescent was watching after him was a point of conjecture, but the surface was the safest place to be.

_He thought._

When Crescent suddenly sniffed the air, his hackles rising, Meepo knew trouble was coming.  When he heard the wing beats in the frozen air, he knew it was his death that was coming.  He remembered the terror of Nightscale...a fear he had hoped to never feel again.  The panic that followed the burning of Greyhawk had approached it...but when he saw the massive shadow flash overhead, his fear seemed an insurmountable thing.

He considered running and hiding, but knew it was too late.  The thing had seen them, and Crescent rarely backed down from a fight, however hopeless.  It's massive clawed feet came crashing down, raising clouds of snow and dust where it landed.  The ground turned black wherever it came into contact with it.  It's wings blotted out the sun, and it's long neck ended in a hideous collection of teeth, horns, and two red-eyes that smouldered like burning coals.

*A black dragon.*

Crescent had seen enough.  He dashed forward, so quickly that to Meepo, he became a blur.  It was a foolish move, but without the Master here, the wolf tended to take a simple view of things.  Lady Kayleigh had said something about "having a hammer" and "everything looking like nails"....but Meepo hadn't really followed that.  But he thought he understood the general idea, and Crescent was putting that idea into action.  Against a orcish war bad, this was a good idea.  The enormous beast that faced them was far different, however, and far, far more dangerous.

The dragon watched the Dire Wolf approach with detached interest, and deflected the mount's attack with the barest flick of it's tail.  Crescent rolled along the ground, and came back up on his feet, ready to renew his assualt.  He would get no such chance.  Instead, the great Black moved faster than any thing of such size should have been able to do, and it's terrible claws came to bear.  Crescent would die, Meepo was sure.

Or he would have, if the Black had desired it.  Instead, it beat Crescent against a wall, then back against the ground, ripping into his flesh.  Meepo waited for the death blow to come...but it didn't.  Instead, the Black paused, and then began sniffing the wolf's bleeding form.

"Yessss," came the voice.  It made Meepo think of steam escaping a fissure in the earth.  It's breath stank of the swamp, and the copper smell of fresh blood.  Crescent's blood.  "I smell my sister's blood on you.  The one you bear....he is one of the one's who slew her."

If Meepo could have vomited, he would have.  His stomach was certainly attempting to volunteer for the position...but he had to think of Crescent, and protecting the Master.  It would be pure suicide to even attempt to fight.  He couldn't hide...the Black knew he was here, and he didn't have one of his scrolls handy.  He had to think, and fast.

"G...Great One!  I...I thank you for saving me!", he stammered in Draconic, hoping that he could keep his fear in check long enough to talk his way out of this.  What had Lady Valanthe said?  "If you're going to lie....LIE BIG!"  If Meepo could do one thing better than the wolf, it was talk.  Meepo knew that the wolf couldn't actually speak at all...but he needed something to raise his confidence.

The Black's eye turned to regard the kobold, who felt smaller by the moment.  To feel it's piercing gaze was to know terror...and Meepo surely felt it.  It licked some of Crescent's blood from one of its claws, and lumbered closer.  The foul breath of the Black created clouds of steam in the air about Meepo.

"Saved you....herrrh."  It seemed to find this amusing.  "What is a little pretender doing here, hmmm?  Hoping to become a true dragon?  Herhh Herhhh Herhhh.  I didn't save you, morsel.  I am looking for this thing's rider.  WHERE. ARE. THEY?"

Each of the last three words was a sentence unto itself.  Their volume was so great, Meepo's teeth rattled with each syllable.

"This humble one doesn't know where they are now, Great One."  Over and over Meepo focused on one thought.  Stay calm.  Stay calm.  Stay calm.  "The hideous softskins captured this poor one and forced him to serve them.  They went below, through that hole."  He gestured towards the cave entrance.

The Black turned his head to percieve the cave.  He would never fit.  Meepo hoped that he would loose interest.  Crescent was bleeding, maybe even dying.  He couldn't tend the wolf while the dragon was here...but first he had to get the dragon to go somewhere...anywhere but here.  His only hope was to trick the dragon...and then only becuase the Black wouldn't suspect him of having learned so much with Gelban's servants.

"Hmmmph.  In the earth.  Always in the earth.  Never in a swamp.  Feh."  It's features suddenly began to blur, like the way that Scorch did when he changed into that...bug.  In a moment, where once a Dragon stood, now an imposing human could be seen.  Dressed all in black silks and a cloak, his face was long and regal...except for the huge scar that split his face in two.  Why he would choose such an appearance was beyond the kobold, but he wasn't that concerned about it.

"They have been below for some time, Great One.  Perhaps they are dead," he offered.  He looked at the cave once more.

Suddenly he felt his arm nearly ripped from it's socket.  As he heard the wet 'snap', he knew at once that his bones of his arm had been crushed.  The Black had taken the form of a human...but he was far quicker than Meepo could have thought, and his hand retained all of the physical power of his true form.  All of which was lost on the kobold, who screamed out loud from the pain.

"Be glad I do not smell my sister's blood upon you, puny one, or you would surely be dead.  I will seek the assassains below.  Gelban can't protect them, now.  You had best be gone when I return...or I may be....HUNGRY."

With that, he tossed Meepo about like a child's doll.  All the kobold could do was watch the ground as he flew towards it.

He was unsure how long he was unconcious, but it hadn't been too long.  The cloak had helped.  Gelban's gift saved his life again, it seemed.  He wasted no time running to Crescent's body.  The wolf was barely breathing, and his life was fading fast.  Meepo's eyes cast about, trying to find the packs.  He spotted them and ran quickly to them.  He rifled through the packs, searching for the items he needed.

He located the few potions and two scrolls he needed.  Within moments, he had awoken and healed the wolf.  It hungered for battle, but it wasn't stupid.  Crescent knew it couldn't give chase to the Dragon....but Meepo could tell something else was wrong.  One look into the wolf's eyes told Meepo all he needed to know.

The Master.

*The Master was gone.*


----------



## Zad

*The Grand Tour - Chapter 8 *

*OOC Notes:*

Exp this session is 3755.

The Savage Sword of Meepo will be on break until late August due to vacations and so on.

Obviously quite a few developments. Rather than get into it all here, expect follow up e-mail (and probably story hour posting) detailing a) What our choices are for the next thing to do and b) a full audit of the fortress.

As a side note, this was a great adventure with some very threatening foes. We got hammered pretty well, but pulled it out, and I think we earned the win.


*Loot:*

There will be an exhaustive loot discussion in the audit. 


*This Week's Adventure:*

On second thought, maybe we'll go somewhere else.

We debated it for a while, and realized that we really weren't too sure how this whole containment system worked and what would happen when. But we were fairly sure of one thing: Karloth would be trying to stop us. The real problem here was Karloth - if we take him out, then we can easily handle the rest afterward. We figured that Karloth would be in the "heart" in his protected place, and that would be the direction to head. We also wanted to be quick, to minimize his chances to prepare.

So we set off for the center of the triangle, hoping to find a way into this "heart".  We again used an invisibility sphere to conceal us but apparently someone saw us anyway. Our first clue to this was the Horrid Wilting. 

I had heard of this spell only briefly, and certainly never seen it. But the effects were brutal, as all the moisture in the area was ripped away, leaving us all badly injured. Valanthe caught the brunt of it, and died outright. Or at least I believe she would have. The mark still on her hand suddenly flared and burned, and she was left alive but at death's door. The gift of chance had saved her life, but unless we all moved quickly, it would be for nothing.

At that moment I noticed the shadows on the ground were moving, as if the sun overhead was moving rapidly. Of course on the astral, there is no sun, making it all the stranger.

We began healing ourselves up and preparing for another assault. Ahead I could see from the towers a huge wave of shadows coming our way. It was as if the sea were black shadow, and a great tide was coming our way. Inside I could barely make out shapes, borne by the black wave. In one moment, I saw lifted to the crest a massive biped with huge jaws and very long arms, and glowing red eyes.

We were under attack from a spellcaster who was invisible, and that was not good. I kept looking intently, trying to discern where he was and hoping he would cast again so I could glitterdust the area, but he did not show himself.  Some time passed while the wave of shadow rolled closer at a blinding speed. The ground erupted near the shadow wave, and a huge earth elemental heaved itself from the stone below, and charged in just behind the wave.

Scorch took matters into his own hands as far as our invisible foe and dimension door'd far above the battle and cast See Invisible. Revealed under the spell was our foe.

The githyanki was on a small flying carpet, flying over the shadow wave. Ioun stones circled his head, and he carried a staff, blazing with blue energy.  He wore black leather armor and carried a wicked dagger in his other hand.

[OOC Note: See invisible is a rather odd spell. We had all assumed it simply let the caster see invisible creatures but it doesn't work anything like that. It took us quite a while to sort through it, and the spell is really poorly worded. Do yourself a favor and explore it well before you use it.]

Karloth was surrounded by a translucent sphere and Scorch indicated it was an Otiluke's resilient sphere, and few attacks would pass through, but he could drop it soon.  Unfortunately Karloth had other ideas, and as he was now revealed, he wasted no time in teleporting from the field.

Bolo, who had been in the form of a small hawk, landed on top of the elemental and reverted to his halfling form. I was stunned. Clearly he had been hearing too many tales of Valanthe. I might question his wisdom, but his bravery was stunning. I only hope it doesn't get him killed.

In any case he dispelled the elemental - a simple thing with a profound effect, and one that I grow fonder of each time. Unfortunately this had a secondary effect - without the elemental to stand on, Bolo fell from 25 feet and landed inside the shadow wave. 

Since Karloth was not to be found, we turned our attention to the shadow beasts inside the wave. Now that they were close we could see three mastiffs and three of the biped creatures. Scorch dropped a fireball which roasted a few, and used a lightning bolt to finish off the damaged ones. I tore into one of the other bipeds, which were weaker than they seemed. My arrows tore away it's shadowy substance till all that was left were a few wisps. Dravot indicated that the bipeds were undead, and drove the point home by using his power to destroy one of them that was close to him.

Aethramyr charged one of the mastiffs, energizing Shatterspike with Sehanine's power. As he closed, the wave of shadow parted and was driven back. He struck the mastiff and it had time only for a plaintive yelp before it fell.

Out of nowhere, Valanthe appeared near one of the other mastiffs, and her blades flew back and forth as if preparing a steer for the market. The beast never knew what ended its life.

[OOC: This was a harsh battle. The horrid wilting did 57 points to 4 out of 6 of us. Valanthe failed the massive damage save and would have died if not for the gift of chance.]

We didn't wish to get caught in the open again, and moved towards the towers hoping to find Karloth. At the base of each was a staff set in the ground with a glowing purple crystal - the source of the shadow wave no doubt as it had extended between them.  The towers themselves had extensive damage from explosions and the like. Several melted githyanki bodies were strewn about.  But there was no sign of Karloth here. We quickly returned to the central area looking for a cavern leading down but found none, so we hustled back to the towers looking for a passage heading down.

Scorch had taken some precautions to detect scrying, and signaled over the scales that we were being watched, but he was unable to trace back the source. We loudly discussed going to the Sanctum dome for a minute then proceeded inside the tower. The left tower had a portcullis, and the inscription on the arch read "Revenge". There were many mind flayer skulls imbedded in the walls, no doubt the object of this revenge. However we wasted no time examining them, as we wanted to catch Karloth as quickly as possible.

Beyond the portcullis was a defensible area that included spellcraft to make one feel confident holding it. A door beyond lead to a common area, and there was a spiral staircase heading down. At the bottom was another common area, this one with a wicked looking creature eight feet tall. It had legs of a goat, pitch black skin, and horns on the side of its head - a cambion. It wore heavy armor but did not seem to be ready for a fight.  Valanthe could also sense the presence of someone invisible here.

It approached as it saw us and spread its arms, hands open and empty.  He stated it had no quarrel with us. He was simply a mercenary who had been abandoned by the githyanki. He seemed more concerned that he would not be getting paid than about attacking us.

We asked if he knew where Karloth went and he said he did, and would tell us in exchange for safe passage.  Even though it was a half demon, even Aethramyr had no desire to fight him with Karloth still on the loose, and we agreed. The beast indicated a wall that contained a secret door leading to Karloth. (No doubt we would have quickly found it, but it seemed neither of us cared to fight the other if it wasn't necessary.)

Valanthe quickly checked then opened the secret door. Beyond the corridor shifted from worked stone to a black marble. Occasionally we could hear whispered voices just beyond understanding, or an image would flash of a man walking in a desert. We tried not to get distracted and moved deeper inside and came to a set of double doors with an elaborate design in black marble with steel bindings.

Beyond was a black marble room with pale blue mosaics. The room was filled by pews facing an empty black wall where an altar would stand, but there was none. A statue of a ten foot tall githyanki in robes stood at the door, pointing at the wall. 

The statue was suspicious and radiated of magic.  But we could think of little to do besides be on guard and moved inside.  With a grinding noise, the statue animated and swung wildly at us.  Before anyone else could react, I turned and snapped off several arrows. Fortunately the enchantment on them was plenty to drive them into the juggernaut, and it fell in pieces to the marble floor.

[OOC: My notes say: "Stone golem comes to life. Stone golem goes to death. Moving on." Poor thing got shredded.]

Two doors lead from the room but there were sigils protecting them. Valanthe triggered one in her attempt to bypass it and couldn't even approach the door afterward. Scorch was able to temporarily suppress one and we moved quickly past the door. The room beyond contained a desk, which promptly exploded into an incendiary cloud. We quickly left the room and left the cloud to burn out.

Down the hall was another corridor and then a door. As we came out we saw Karloth bolt from the door down the other corridor. Down there we could see his consort as well. It was time.

Valanthe started with a bead of force. It didn't trap either of them but they certainly felt the effect of the blast. The Karloth teleported into the hallway and a prismatic spray flashed down on us all. I truly dread this spell. I was struck by a bolt of electricity, and even twisting away from most of it, still was badly hurt. Bolo was hit by a flash and turned into stone. Scorch was also hit by lightning full on, and fell unconscious. Valanthe was hit square by a green beam, but it just washed over her without harming her.

[OOC: Bolo missed his save. Aethramyr and Dravot saved and were ok. Valanthe was actually killed by the poison, failing her save, until Bolo reminded her he had loaned her an amulet of adaptation and so was immune.]

Karloth was a powerful enemy  and we had to attack him hard and fast. Fortunately we had our chance, with him right in front of us. Scorch opened with a cone of cold, and I started laying arrows into him. Each one made a crunch as it hit - he had a stoneskin spell protecting him. Even so, the arrows were still hurting him, and with seven arrows in him, he was none too pleased. Aethramyr closed on him and drove Shatterspike clean through the stoneskin and through Karloth's shoulder and he howled.

It was the last sound he'd ever make.  Because Valanthe had gotten behind him, and in one smooth motion reached around and slit his throat from ear to ear. He stood for a moment, then collapsed forward in a pool of blood.

The consort was only intent on escape, but we were having none of it. Dravot wasted no time chasing the consort and teleported next to her and attacked. A fine move as he could now harry any magical attempt she made to leave. Bolo, now a bear, charged at her too and returned some of the pain she had put on him. Scorch reached for my shoulder and we appeared on the other side of the room she had fled into, and I began putting arrows into her back. With a screech, she fell forward dead, with three arrows sticking from between her wings.

And then everything went white.


We awoke. I didn't know what had happened, but I knew it was much later. In front of me was the body of the consort, her blood long dried, confirming it. Even the room had changed, the marble now a white flecked stone rather than black marble.  Our injuries were gone, and Bolo was no longer a statue.

Dravot looked at the corpses of the consort and Karloth and guessed it had been a week since they had died. 

But what happened?

Scorch was looking about in an odd fashion and was disturbed by some other mystery. After some time he said "We're back on the prime material plane…"

We went back outside, and looked around, and sure enough we were not on the Astral any more.  The entire fortress seemed to have been dropped, literally, onto the prime material plane.

Lightning then erupted over the sanctum dome, and we went over to find out what it was. Standing at the strike was Prince Sumez, now clearly freed from his binder, and standing as a tall, red-skinned man.

He greeted us, and congratulated us on our success, and therefore his freedom. He also said he had found our wolf and our "thing" (with no small distaste) and in another flash of lightning, Crescent and Meepo appeared.

Crescent was limping and heavily bandaged. Meepo's arm was in a sling. Meepo only briefly mentioned a black dragon, and something about killing his sister.

We let out a collective groan but left the matter for later.

Prince Sumez said the dragon had come down and found the binder, and attempted to take control of it. He found it rather comical for the first hour.

In any case he had promised a boon and he would deliver it. With that his eyes flared in red fire, and our skin began to burn. We each floated into the air, our heads back as the fire flowed over us. On my shoulder, the mark of a small flame burned into the skin.  As we hung there for burning moments, something inside became . . . unlocked. For the first time I realized that perhaps the reason the dragons had chosen us was due to this potential.

Of course, this was the being that ruled evocation, and while destruction was his strong suit, grace was not. After the mark was formed, we fell from the air in a rather unceremonious fashion, along with the usual clattering of armor when it meets the ground.

He told us it seems that Ralishaz is now quite awake, and pointed at the arch over the Sanctum Dome. Inscribed in mithril in draconic, it now said "The debt is paid." I assumed it was Valanthe's debt to him but in any case it seems we are now even.

Prince Sumez remembered then he promised another boon, and extended his hand. A series of bolts shot out, one hitting each of us in the chest. I can only hope that if we free another binder that he is somewhat more subtle with his gifts. Nonetheless, afterward I felt slightly better - slightly sharper and quicker, like a cat's grace. Later I would learn that each of us seemed to be blessed according to our talents.  

[OOC Note: +1 to our primary statistic each. Dravot/Bolo - wisdom. Aethramyr - charisma. Valanthe/me - dexterity. Scorch - intelligence.]

With that, Prince Sumez ben Taal bid us farewell. 

Or at least he tried. I reminded him of one other boon he promised - that he would help us understand the binders so that we may overcome those who wield them.

He looked back at me, not quite ashamed but not quite flippant either. 

"Oh. That. Um, about that. I lied."

"Excuse me?" was all I could manage.

"I lied. You looked like you might not do it, so I lied. Sorry."

I sighed, since there was little to be done about it. We bid him well and he returned to his wife in another loud explosion.

We looked at each other silently for a moment. It was Scorch of course who said "Well I'm gonna take a look around!" at which we all nodded and started taking a more detailed look at this fortress that had apparently been dropped here for us. 

Maybe we'll keep it.

As I moved to one of the buildings, I heard Aethramyr taking Crescent and Meepo aside asking "Now tell me about this dragon…"


----------



## Zad

*Auditors are a CR12*

I received this by air elemental this morning:



From:     InterPlanar Auditors, Inc.

To:       Her Excellency Kayleigh,
          The Savage Sword of Meepo Adventuring Company, LLP.

Re:       Results of your requested audit


Your Excellency,

It is IPA's pleasure to supply you with the audit you requested. As per your request, we conducted an extensive audit of the Ruun-Khazai facility you recently acquired, as well as an itemization, inventory, and assessment of various firm assets your group received via spoils-of-war.

Our team has certified the results of the audit and you can be assured of the highest integrity and accuracy in the results.


*Liquid Assets:*

The total for all coin, gems, and easily disposable objects comes to 37,460gp. This translates to 6,243gp per partner, available for immediate spending.


*Capital Assets:*

You recovered a substantial number of capital assets in the course of your recent work. The capital assets can be divided into two categories: those going to partners, and those that will be liquidated.

You provided the following information for partner disposition:

Scorch
Headband of intellect +6
Wand of Mirror Image, 5 charges

Dravot
Clerical Vestments

Aethramyr
Gauntlets of Ogre Power

Bolo
Ioun stone, incandescent blue (+2 wis)
Necklace of the wild beast
Ring of Protection +1
Scroll of chill metal

Valanthe
Ring of protection +1
Wand of Melf's Acid Arrow, 33 charges

Kayleigh
Arrow of slaying, lawful outsiders.
Wand of Dispel Magic, 10 charges
Bracers of Armor +3
Ioun stone, pink/green (+2 cha)


That leaves a substantial list of items remaining. It is our believe that your partners will wish to retain some of these items. We have included an estimate of the price of each item to facilitate your process.


Greater rod of Silence Spell (metamagic feat rod)   48600
Tome of leadership and influence +1                 27500
Staff of frost 15 charges                           21000
Carpet of flying 3x5 210 speed                      18000
+2 heavy mace of terror                             17812
Cloak of resistance +4                              16000
Battleaxe +2                                         8310
+2 kama                                              8300
Boots of Speed                                       8000
Ring of protection +2                                8000
Amulet of natural armor +2                           8000
Ring of protection +2                                8000
adamantium breastplate                               5350
+2 dagger (meepo)                                    4305
Chain shirt +2                                       4250
+2 leather breastsplate                              4160
+2 bracers of armor                                  4000
cloak of resistance +2                               4000
Three sets of mithril chainmail                      3450
2 brooches of shielding                              3000
Mighty Composite Longbow +1, +3str mod               2700
Scroll of sequester                                  2275
Cloak of Elvenkind                                   2000
Scroll of wall of force                              1125
Potion of Cure Serious Wounds                         750
One potion of cure serious wounds                     750
Wand of Summon Monster I                              750
Scroll of lightning bolt                              375
Scroll of protection from elements                    375
Potion of intelligence                                300
Potion of ghoul touch                                 300
Potion of cure moderate wounds                        300
Scroll of protection from arrows                      150
Potion of swimming                                    150
Scroll of invisibility to undead                       25
Scroll of detect snares and pits                       25
Scroll of entangle                                     25

+3 greatsword silver sword                        special


It is the opinion of IPA that your partners consider holding on to the following assets:

Greater rod of Silence Spell
Tome of Leadership and Influence (Aethramyr)
Staff of Frost (Scorch)
Carpet of Flying 
Cloak of Resistance +4
Boots of Speed
Ring of Protection +2 (two of them, requests in from Bolo and Kayleigh)
Amulet of Natural Armor +2 (Aethramyr)


The Silver Sword represents a particular problem. There is a great deal of risk associated with holding this type of investment as the owners tend to take a dim view of such a thing. IPA strongly recommends that you dispose of this item as quickly as possible. You can either dispose of it through discreet channels, or you may wish to consider attempting to sell it back to the Githyanki Corporation directly, in order to avoid complications with them later. 



*Ruun-Khazai Overview*

The fortress has considerable value both for the items it contains as well as the inherent value of the stronghold itself. We will consider the inventory separate from the stronghold.

Ruun-Khazai is in an unknown location, per your request that auditors from IPA be teleported in with no knowledge of the location. Therefore we cannot provide any substantive information regarding local taxes.


*Ruun-Khazai Inventory*

The fortress currently holds a number of rare or unique items, including an extensive collection of food and spirits. These items were well preserved on the astral plane but now that the fortress has been moved to the prime material, they will age and spoil. IPA therefore recommends you sell off these assets while they are still valuable.

Ruun-Khazai held a number of notable items - a summary is provided here.

Alcohol collection             7800
Githyanki artwork              2500
Sword collection              12000
Tapestry of fright            10000
Books in the sanctum dome      2000
Books from the  Heart          6000
Armory                        39359       
Armor collection              10250

Note the price of the half plate barding for a large quadraped is not included in this estimate.

The four towers contained sufficient barracks for 192 troops. Each trooper as standard equipment was issued a potion of cure light wounds. You therefore have 192 potions of cure light wounds available.

The total value for the inventory of Ruun-Khazai comes to 89,909gp. or a per partner share of nearly 15,000gp. Disposition of the armory contents should be particularly easy given the political tensions in the Flaness right now.


*Ruun-Khazai Fortress*

After a thorough appraisal of the facility, we offer the following assessment. Note that this assessment is certified and usable for all tax purposes. The total value of the facility is 2,121,770 gp, broken down as follows.

Sanctum Dome     784870
Four Towers      933600
The Heart        403300
The Pyramids          0

The Pyramids are nothing but a pile of rubble.

The Four Towers are suitable for housing troops, as their purpose was originally as a barracks. They contain few noteworthy features but are stable structures and could be renovated to another purpose if that was your desire. One notable item is the Greater Map of Tactics in one of the towers - a desk-like object that will show the position of those touching it when in the area of the fortress for 18 hours.

The Sanctum Dome offers luxurious living quarters, along with a number of special features:

1. A Warding Bell, capable of protecting the dome with a Guards and Wards spell
2. Animated Ballistae to serve as unmanned defenders. The ballistae have interesting abilities
3. A great deal of usable living space
4. A fully functional alchemical lab
5. A high quality forge
6. A dining facility with a number of unseen servants already conjured.
7. Several living quarters have enchantments to notify the occupant if they are being scryed
8. Some rooms are always kept comfortable and fresh via magical enchantment
9. A Pool of Scrying has been created in the temple area in the basement

The Heart also has a number of special features:

1. It is protected from scrying, always appearing empty
2. It is protected from unwanted visitors by teleportation or planar shifting
3. It has a full alchemical lab and library
4. It is connected via tunnels to all the other structures
5. It has living quarters for one person
6. It contains a summoning area 

It is the opinion of IPA that SSOM LLP retain the fortress for their uses. The rational for this recommendation is as follows:

1. While Ruun-Khazai has a significant cash value, it would be extremely difficult to convert this into any kind of liquid asset. It's off the beaten track in an unfriendly area, and would be of interest only to a few people. This means you could get greater value from using it than from selling it.
2. With the recent disappearance of your primary venture capitalist, and corresponding loss of corporate facilities, your partnership is in need of a new base of operations.
3. SSOM LLP has made several enemies during the months of its existence. Having a facility that is unknown to these entities that is also moderately proofed against scrying would be of tremendous benefit.
4. The facility is in an inconvenient location however this can serve to keep the lesser undesirable elements away, and given your abilities, the commute should not prove burdensome.


*In Conclusion*

*Asset                Total       Per Partner*
Liquid assets       37,460       6,243
Fortress inventory  89,909       14,985
*Total              127,369       21,228*

Add to this the price of the fixed assets you choose to sell for a total equity figure. If we make certain assumptions about which assets you choose to keep, we estimate each partner will receive an additional 12,000gp. This number is merely provided for planning purposes. 

These figures do not include any revenues from the disposal of the Silver Sword, which could generate another 16,000gp per partner, but that number could vary wildly as you would expect with such a delicate sale.

The acquisition of Ruun-Khazai was a wise choice for SSOM LLP. Both the capital assets as well as the facility itself should serve to further enhance the group's position in the very competitive and hostile market currently gripping the Flaness.


----------



## Scorch

*Something else that arrived by Air Elemental Postal Express...*

To make matters more interesting, something else arrived by air elemental as well:

To Whom it May Concern:

Good Gentles,

I represent a clearing house of some antiquities.  Our particular firm has a
proud lineage that stretches back for almost 200 years (prime relative).  We
are experts at both acquisition and dispersal of unique goods for the
discriminating and conspicous.

It has recently come to our attention (and please, don't ask how...you know
we wouldn't tell you if you did) that you have come into possession of
a...singular item of dangerous and possibly dubious value.  You may be
interested to know that we have no small shortage of contacts and
connections that may be useful in the service of any transactions you may be
considering with regards to this property.

Should you be interested, merely inquire at our main office, 3.14 Pi Square,
Guildhall Ward, Sigil.  Three doors down from Zakk's Corpse Curing.

Sincerely,

Mortimer Fuvex-vex-vex,
Chief Curator, Tsvar's Curios and Objectals

OOC:  I thought that the DM was pulling my leg when he sent this but he says it is serious.  Whee!


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*I finally Decided.*

Bolo Brandybuck will start Verdant Lord Levels as of 16th level.
It took me forever to decide between Shifter and Verdant Lord. I don't want Druid because I can't see Bolo gaining an Elemental form, It's just not in him to not be a "living natural animal".
So Verdant Lord it is. Here is Bolo's most recent Stat block to cement this in stone.

Bolo Brandybuck: Male Halfling (Lightfoot) Druid 15; CR 15; Small Humanoid (Halfling); HD 15d8+30; hp 115; Init +2; Spd 20 ft.; AC 20; Atk +8/+3/–2 melee (1D6+2+1D6 Fire, halfling staff), +4/–1/–6 melee (1D6+2+1D6 Cold, halfling staff), +15/+10/+5 ranged (1d4, masterwork sling); AL NG; SV Fort +14, Ref +10, Will +19; Str 9, Dex 15, Con 14, Int 16, Wis 22, Cha 15; Height 3'6", weight 35
Skills and Feats: Animal Empathy +20, Climb +3, Concentration +10, Craft (Wicker Weaving) +5, Handle Animal +18, Hide +8, Knowledge (nature) +21, Knowledge (The Outer Plains) +7, Knowledge (Psionics) +4, Listen +11, Move Silently +6, Profession (Herbalist) +15, Ride +6, Scry +5, Spellcraft +19, Swim +1, Wilderness Lore +25; Natural Casting, Fast Wild Shape, Plant Defiance, Plant Control, Track, Craft Wondrous Item


----------



## dravot

*Dreams and visions*

I had a most remarkable dream last night.  Maybe it was a vision; I’m not sure.  Regardless, I take it as a sign from on high.

The dream:

I find myself in a small room in a cave.  A pool of water collects in one corner.  It's very, very dark, but I have no trouble seeing anyway.  I look out the doorway and see a long passage.  It reminds me of the family crypts in Brindinford, but it's obviously a cave.

I move out, quietly.  There is a need for caution, although I don't know  why.  The passageway opens into a large cavern, so large I cannot see the far side in the dark.  I wait at the opening; I listen and feel the cavern with all of my senses...trying to figure out what's going on.  I don't  detect undead at all, but I know they're nearby.

I move along the perimeter of the room.  I try to be as quiet as I can.  I realize that I do not have my armor or shield, only my vestments, the Sunhammer and my holy symbol.  I think I hear something and stop moving, again, sensing for anything, but nothing.  Am I being stalked?  My paranoia says I am, but I have nothing to support this.  Still, it's easier to assume yes than to be surprised.  I continue.

I round a corner in the cavern.  Ahead there is a ledge with a shaft of daylight shining down upon it.  I am not sure if it's an exit or not, but I head toward it.  The ledge is about six feet above the surface, but it looks like an easy climb.  I look about for solid footing when a piercing howl echoes throughout the room.  To me it sounds like a ghoul, full of hatred and contempt for the living.  I can't tell where the sound comes from but I know that it's not far away.

I evaluate the situation and decide to climb up to the ledge.  It should be a good place to defend myself, and if the light shaft is evidence of an exit, I can leave that way if necessary.  I hastily begin to climb.  I get two feet off the ground when I realize that the ledge and the light shaft are an illusion and do not exist.  The howl is now joined by several more.  And more.  And more.

I'm not sure what's going on, but I prepare myself for battle, and move off to the side.  If someone wants me at the ledge, I'm going to move elsewhere. I sense undead to my left, near the illusion.  A ghoul appears out of the darkness, illuminated by the illusory light.  It howls when it sees that I'm not where I should be.  The foul creature puts his nose into the air and sniffs carefully, determining that I was there and where I had moved to.  He runs toward me and the battle is on.

I ready my weapon and wait for him.  I don't want to turn just one ghoul, there are more on the way for sure.  He springs at me and I strike him down.  A few seconds later, two more arrive.  They attack me, but I deftly avoid them and smite them quickly.  Five more take their place.  More are on the way.  I invoke the power of Pelor, channeling positive energy into the cavern and they die.  More enter the cavern.  I destroy more with positive energy, and yet more come.  By now there are thirty or more in the cavern.

I try something new, something which I'd only heard of before.  I concentrate my positive energy into a huge burst, and all thirty crumble into dust.  But more arrive.  Another burst destroys more.  A couple get to me, but don't seem to be able to harm me - I am always ducking and avoiding them.

My ability to channel positive energy is usually limited, but today it feels like I have an unlimited supply, which is good, considering that they continue to attack.

Suddenly, I am in two places at once.  I am still in the cavern, fighting more and more ghouls, and I am also on the ledge...the non-existent one, looking at myself as I fight the ever-increasing onslaught.  From this vantage point, the number of ghouls seems like an ocean and the other Dravot is fighting the waves with a toy sword, and yet he is unharmed and holding them at bay.

"Hello Dravot."

Next to me is Belline.  St. Belline.  I don't say anything...I don't know what to say.  She continues, "I see that your chalice has served you well  so far."

I was rather surprised, but managed to recover adequately.  "It has, exalted one.  I thank you for your confidence in me."

"It is well earned, and I am glad to give it."

I look out over the cavern.  "How much longer can I hold out against them?"

Belline looks nonplussed.  "As long as you like, but you are at a stalemate and will not win under the current circumstances, but neither will the ghouls.  You can break the stalemate if you wish, but only by letting go."

This puzzles me.  "Let go?  Of what?"  Even as I say it though, I know what the answer will be.

"Your desire for vengeance.  You allow your fear and hatred of the undead to cloud your judgment, which has led you into some rather dubious situations.  Look at your treatment of Verilunda, and your commissioning of the brand that you were thinking of using upon yourself."

Even if I know the answer, I do not understand it.  "But I have apologized to Verilunda, and to my friends.  And it was my decision not to use the brand.  I came to that decision before anyone else talked to me."

She smiles at me.  "And for both of those, I commend you.  It was surely not easy to do either one.  Your pain was obvious to those around you.  But that does not change the fact that you attacked Verilunda, and you did make the brand.  Tell me, when Sebastian died, how did you feel?"

I think for a moment.  "Conflicted, I suppose.  I was certainly glad enough to see him dead for all he'd done to me and my family.  I also felt sorrow for the brother I never knew, and will never know."

She asks another question.  "Since you've taken your vows to Pelor and become one of His acolytes, what was the proudest moment you've experienced?"

This time I don't even have to think;  I know the answer.  "Freeing those who were enslaved by the Coot.  Helping the sick and injured there, giving them comfort when they'd given up hope.  Being instrumental in establishing a new temple for the followers of Pelor there."

We stand in silence as the battle below continues, and I reflect upon what I've just said.  Belline speaks again.  "Your fight against the forces of the Dark, the forces of the Undead is an important one.  Never forget that.  Remember, though, Pelor bids us to help those in need, that true good will win out in the end.  You have strength in the light as well as the darkness, and can walk in both realms to do Pelor's will."

"I think I understand."

She then reaches up and touches my shoulder.  I find myself covered in a suffuse, golden glow, feeling warm and safe.  She intones a spell and fades out of sight.

I expect to find myself back as one, fighting the ghouls, but instead I am still on the illusory ledge, watching.  I put my hands on my belt, realizing that I have the Sunhammer with me.  Or my version of it.  Or something.  I draw it from my belt and hold it in my hand.  It radiates a faint light, just like my body.  I cast a daylight spell upon the hammer, and throw it into the cavern.  It sails up and over the ghouls.  The other Dravot doesn't seem to notice it, but the ghouls do.  A flash of bright light erupts through the cavern and suddenly I'm back on the floor, the fighting Dravot, alone.  No noise or movement.  The Sunhammer is maybe 50 feet in front of me, on the ground, glowing faintly.  

I move over and pick it up and the dream ends.

[ooc: basically flavor text which explains much of Dravot's thoughts of late, and a new direction for his character development]


----------



## WizarDru

*Announcer:*_"Welcome to everyone's favorite travel show_:

* Portal full o' Scorch!  *

_ Here's your host.....*Scorch!*"_


*Scorch:*"OK, OK, I'm up! I'm up, for Boccob's sake.  Vecna's Sore Tooth, it's early....what do you people want NOW?"

*Announcer:* _"Today we'll be visiting Sigil, City of Doors!"_

*Scorch:* "Oh fer crying out.....is it Feastday?  &*(#, it's early.  Yeah, yeah, Sigil.  Come here for a second.  Look in this portal."

*Announcer:* _"This one here?  Where does it go?"_

*Scorch:*  "Sigil, you dumb$%^!  Now, get in there!"

[brief flash of light, change of scene from Greyhawk Studio City to a dark, damp murky street...screams are heard in the background]

*Announcer:*_ "By the Light of Pelor!  Where are we?"_

*Scorch:* [Slapping announcer in the back of the head] "Sigil, you Fluumph!  Hive Ward, to be exact.  Now the first thing you need to now..."

[Announcer begins to scream]

*Announcer:*_ "The street, it's eating me!  Aaaah! Help!  Aaah, Blessed Light!  AaaHHH!  It burns!"_

*Scorch:* [continuing] "...is not to step in the Ooze Puddles.  (sigh)  *MAHALITO!*"

*Announcer:* _"AHH!  I'm Burning!  I'M BURNING!"_

*Scorch:* "Oh, quit being a baby!  It's only 10d6 of damage.  Empowered to 15.  And Maximized.  Twit."

*Announcer:* _"I'm only an Bard 2/Expert 2....(sobbing)...I don't have those kind of hit points!  Ahhh!  Put me out!  Put me out!"_

*Scorch:* "Pfft. Fine.  Cone of Cold, it is, then."

*Announcer:*_ "NO!  Wait!  I...." [sound of ice forming]...GAH!"_

*Scorch:* "Feh.  That's what we have clerics for, I guess.  I'm outta here.  Boccob's Breakfast Cereal, it's *&^%ing early.  I'm getting some Kava."

[quick flash of light]

*Announcer:* _"Ummm...Scorch?  Anyone? Anyone?"

"Well, um....I guess that's all we...(OW!)...all we have time for this week.  Join (OW!)...Join us next week when visit....(urk)....the Eylsian Fields....I hope.   (hissing sound can be heard)  Did you hear that?  Anyone?  Hello?  .....I knew I shouldn't have become a bard."_


----------



## Zad

*The Grand Tour - Chapter 9*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience this session is 2000.

*Loot Notes:*

Now that the silver sword is gone, I can close the books and get us caught up. I'm going to make the assumption that after our little "detour" in the deep ethereal, we'll be able to sell the various proceeds without too much trouble and can just get on with things.

That said, the split from all this stuff is 40,291gp each. I'm calling this official. Any "proceeds" from the deep ethereal trip we'll handle later.

Other loot:

Aethramyr: Tome of leadership and influence +1, Carpet of flying 3x5, Amulet of natural armor +2, Mighty composite longbow +1, (+3 mighty).

Scorch: Staff of frost, Greater rod of Silence Spell, Scroll of wall of force, potion of cure serious wounds.

Dravot: Cloak of resistance +4, Scroll of invisibility to undead

Valanthe: Boots of speed

Bolo: Ring of Protection +2, Scroll of detect snares and pits, Scroll of entangle

Kayleigh: Scroll of lightning bolt, Potion of cure serious wounds, Ring of protection +2

Also there are more potions of cure light wounds than we need to count, so grab a few.


*This Week's Adventure:*

We each spent a bit of time wandering around the grounds of the fortress. It's certainly far larger than we need, but that might change in the future. The location is very isolated, which is both good and bad. Scorch is muttering about some kind of gateway to civilization that he'll work on later.

It became clear very quickly that there was a great deal of treasure and equipment here, most of which we would prefer to simply sell.  Greyhawk is in turmoil at the moment and so we considered Dyvers briefly. But Scorch, who had missed a good bit of this discussion mired in the Sanctum library, came out with concern on his face.

"This just showed up, delivered by an air elemental."

The letter read:

_To Whom it May Concern:

Good Gentles,

I represent a clearing house of some antiquities. Our particular firm has a proud lineage that stretches back for almost 200 years (prime relative). We are experts at both acquisition and dispersal of unique goods for the discriminating and conspicuous.

It has recently come to our attention (and please, don't ask how...you know we wouldn't tell you if you did) that you have come into possession of a...singular item of dangerous and possibly dubious value. You may be interested to know that we have no small shortage of contacts and connections that may be useful in the service of any transactions you may be considering with regards to this property.

Should you be interested, merely inquire at our main office, 3.14 Pi Square, Guildhall Ward, Sigil. Three doors down from Zakk's Corpse Curing.

Sincerely,

Mortimer Fuvex-vex-vex,
Chief Curator, Tsvar's Curios and Objectals
_

We immediately took our discussion to the Sanctum Heart, which was protected against scrying and intrusion. The letter was clearly referring to the silver sword that we took from Karluth. Scorch was very clear that the githyanki were not fond of such blades falling into the hands of non-githyanki and would go to great lengths to secure its return. Which meant it was a hot potato - it had great value but we needed to get rid of it quickly. Given Karluth's status within the githyanki society, his blade may be even more troublesome than most.

And now here is someone who not only knew we had it, but wanted to buy it.  It had a chilling effect on all of us to say the least that someone knew we had the blade. But if one person knew, chances are more did, or could.

Valanthe meanwhile was simply bouncing her chair excitedly saying "Let's go to Sigil!" several times. The idea was clearly of interest to Scorch as well. I could tell because he took the time to explain.

Sigil is a city on some other plane. (Scorch told us but I forgot which.)  It's a haven for commerce and anything can be bought or sold for the right price. Given the huge pile of goods we had to dispose of, it seemed like the perfect place and it would let us make some purchases as well.

Of course after we returned, there were still several troubling problems that faced us. The World Tree continued to suffer, Celene was under attack and then there were Chavram's forces near Brindinford, not to mention the dragon war.  I was still troubled by the war on Celene, and that I was doing precious little to aid my homeland, and asked the group that we make our presence felt there. Bolo pressed a case for helping the World Tree, and wisely so - it was a most troubling problem. Of course we had little idea where to begin on that mystery. Eventually we resolved that we would conduct our business on Sigil, then return to the Prime and help with the war in Celene while simultaneously investigating the World Tree and trying to determine how we would help save it, and make that our next priority.

We secured the sword in Scorch's Leomund's chest, and packed up the rest of the gear for the trip.  Scorch returned to the library and was fairly sure that a portal would open to Sigil in the mountains tomorrow. The spot was about three hours away so it was quite close.

I of course took the time to move into one of the suites in the sanctum dome, and re-arranged a few things (and disposed of a few others).  By the next morning, I was rested, bathed, refreshed and ready to go shopping.

Bolo was already up, and had awakened several trees to guard the area while we were gone - an excellent move. There was mention of human guardians such as followers of Pelor or what not, but it seemed to me that the fewer that knew of this place, the safer we were, and the trees would be good guardians.

We set out for the portal and Scorch briefed us on Sigil.  

"First thing you have to know about Sigil - don't put your tongue on anything."

"Second - don't step in the puddles."

And it went from there. 

After arriving at the site, we found the portal with only a little searching once nearby. A large, shimmering oval six feet high, surrounded in a copse of trees.  Scorch was sure this was a gateway to Sigil.

At least he was fairly sure.

Mostly sure.

While we examined just how "sure" Scorch was, Bolo stepped through. The rest of us shrugged and followed quickly. Aethramyr looked over at me and in his brilliant manner took my arm and we went through together, unsure what we'd find beyond.

As we passed through the portal there was a sizzle, and a feeling of being propelled through a long tube, and after a fraction of a second, a flash of light and we appeared.

Dravot, Aethramyr, Crescent, Meepo and I arrived in an upscale district on a nice cobblestone street. There were folk about but not a great many.  As I looked overhead, I could see a huge rock stretching from one side of the sky to the other. After looking closely I could see there was more city up there. Scorch had said that Sigil was on the inside of a big donut, but I really hadn't understood what he meant until now.  In one direction I could make out a huge temple, but it was in ruins.  

Back on the streets, there were cabs going by - most were carried by four humans and were very ornate.

A tall fellow with the features of a lion was leaning up against a post with a large broken glass sphere atop it. He looked at us a few moments and then walked over.

He greeted us warmly, and said we had the look of Primers about us. He went on about things being strange in Sigil and perhaps we could use a tout. I was fairly sure he was speaking Common, but he tended to use a lot of words that had no meaning to me. Fortunately the context was usually adequate for me to get his meaning. Scorch was also somewhat familiar with the local slang and over the scale supplied some translations.

He was offering his services as a guide, and that was something that seemed almost required here. His prices were fairly reasonable at some 50 gold and I hired him immediately. His name was Ashberi and he immediately started earning his keep and providing useful information.

Meanwhile, our companions were scattered all over Sigil. Scorch and Valanthe were separately in the merchant district. (We were apparently in the Lady's District.) Bolo however was . . . not. He was in the midst of a mass of machinery and pollution and other nasty things. The poor druid was in shock at the environment. After several exchanges between Bolo and relaying this information to Ashberi, we determined Bolo was in the factory district and that we had best go get him quickly.  Ashberi rounded up two cabs and we set off in that direction.

[OOC: When I was told we were in the "Lady's district", I had thought we were in the "Ladies' district" and was wondering exactly what went on in this part of town.]

Apparently the city of Sigil shifts around a fair bit, both between districts and within the district. This makes finding your way around rather difficult unless you know the area. Fortunately Ashberi did and we got to the factory area with a minimum of backtracking.  

This would probably be the best 50 gold pieces I spent in Sigil.

We retrieved Bolo, who was none the worse for wear, save for having his purse with some spending money snatched. I was glad it was nothing worse and we headed to the merchant district to meet the others. Bolo described meeting some dark beings that Ashberi identified as dabus. They are worker drones that work for the Lady. (I made a note to ask Scorch later who she was - the Lady of Pain rules Sigil.)

We decided to meet at a restaurant - Imel's Happy Tongue.  Apparently a halfling establishment. Ashberi told us "Whatever you do, don't order the squid, but otherwise a fine place. The death cheese isn't bad, but don't buy the warrior's cheese."

We arrived by cab without any other problems, and entered the inn. Scorch and Valanthe were there waiting, along with a young boy who Scorch called a lightboy. Apparently it gets very dark in Sigil. Scorch quietly mentioned that the guild had "greased some skids" here in Sigil.

The common room was like Sigil in that it hosted all manner of creatures from demons to angels. At one table an umberhulk sat with several tieflings, having a meal. Another table had several people all dressed in patchwork and mismatched clothes.

Bolo showed his usual discretion and ordered the squid. When the food came out, a halfling came with it. Imel introduced himself, and proceeded to tell Bolo the story behind the squid. A very LONG story. 

Scorch took the time to explain that Sigil was ruled by the Lady of Pain and that she was very unforgiving and not at all keen on the establishment of religion or interference from gods of any kind. Sigil is something of a "no faith" zone it seems.

A half hour later, we had eaten but Imel was still talking, with Bolo listening in rapt attention. We decided to go start by seeing the merchant interested in our "special item" and left Bolo to deal with Imel (and the bill). We hadn't gotten far when Bolo caught up. How he escaped I'm not sure, but I suspect he had gnawed off an arm and then regrown it.

Ashberi again proved his worth and guided us to Tsvar's Curiousities and Objectiles. It was a very nice storefront with some assorted trinkets in the window. He waited outside while the six of us entered. The letter we had received glowed in reaction to the door, and the door opened to allow us in.

The shop held assorted small items on the shelves, and three wooden desks, each nicer than the last. A male drow sat at one, and looked up at us. We had resolved that since Scorch seemed most in his element here, he would do the negotiating, and Scorch showed the letter and asked for Mortimer Fuvex-vex-vex. I admit my attention had been drawn by the drow, and it wasn't until he stood up that I noticed Mortimer Fuvex-vex-vex.

He was wearing a long coat and vest of fine linen, and had spectacles on his sharp nose.  There were small horns on his head and his skin was quite dark.  His clothes had been tailored to accommodate his small, bat like wings.  He pushed his glasses up his nose and stood up.

He greeted us warmly and had the drow bring chairs so we could sit. The chairs were excellent and perfectly sized - so much so I wondered where to get one. While I admired the furniture, Scorch got to business, mostly just listening at first.

Mister Fuvex-vex-vex understood the nature of the item we had, and was offering several possible transactions. Either we could trade something, or just outright sell it to him, or alternatively let him sell it on commission for us. We all wanted to be rid of the thing as quickly as possible, and therefore opted for a simple sale. He had a ring of shooting stars that he thought we might be interested in as payment (although he said the value was higher than the "item") but we weren't interested.

While the negotiations continued, another man entered. He was a tiefling like Mortimer but younger, and seemed to be his son. Just after he entered the room, a mercane arrived flanked by two guards in deep-hooded cloaks. They sat at the empty desk and had a discussion of their own. The son moved a large glass shield (enchanted surely) between the two desks so each of our conversations would remain private.

[OOC: THE CONE OF SILENCE!!!!]

Mortimer also mentioned three other items that might be of interest to us in his stock. A shield of singular quality from Carceri, a rather interesting bow, and a warhammer from the Prime. We adjourn to a room behind a curtain to examine these items. But first we offer up the silver sword for Mortimer to examine. He calls his son over and proceeds to lecture him about the various attributes of the blade, treating him like an idiot in the process. But Fuvex-vex-vex is satisfied with the blade and returns it to us until the deal is completed. His son then returned to his client and continued their discussion.

The display area had three wood and glass cases, each with a single item. Dust on the floor made it seem that there were more cases and that the area had just been reset to receive us specifically.

The first case held a metal shield.  It glimmered and flickered as I stared at it. It was inscribed with a stylized red dragon.  Mortimer described the qualities of the shield but gave no details as to the origin. [It is a +3 ghost touch shield of light fortification.]  It was a fine shield but seemed to spark little interest from Aethramyr or Dravot.

The second case had a warhammer. Fuvex-vex-vex said it was powerfully enchanted and could store magical spells. [+4 light warhammer of spell storing]  Dravot perused it but since it was not the favored weapon of his diety, he was only moderately interested.

The third case held my attention for some time. Inside was a composite longbow. It was made from the wood of a tree that grows on the elemental plane of air. The tree grows in the air in free form, spreading out branches and roots all about.  As near as I could tell, the string wasn't a string at all but was spun from fog and clouds.  

Even though it was quiet, Mortimer said that the bow possessed the electrical properties from the storms common in the plane. It also was attuned to, as he put it, the "free spirited wielder" according to the prior owner, and would only be suitable for such a person. [+2 mighty composite longbow, shocking, chaotic, +2 str bonus]  I was fascinated by the bow, and had been considering buying a new weapon. However I was disappointed at the modest enchantment on the bow itself, and was only moderately interested.

Given our tepid interest in the items at hand, we decided to settle the deal in straight cash. And now Scorch got full into the haggling of the worth of the blade. One of the bits I caught from the conversation was that Mortimer would be removing all traces of our involvement with the blade, and I put a high price on that indeed.

They settled on a price of 53,000gp and withdrew to settle the payment. They returned in a few moments and all was done.

Meanwhile Mortimer's son continued his negotiations at the next desk. On the desk was a long wooden box and I could see inside four glowing white eggs, flecked with gold.  As Mortimer and Scorch returned from settling the payment, two dabus came through the door, indifferent to the elaborate protections it had.

Mortimer looked immediately concerned, while his son looked positively panicked.  The mercane also looked concerned but puzzled. The son moved quickly to close the box and conceal the eggs but he slipped and one of the eggs fell on the floor and cracked.  As it cracked there was a flash of brilliant white light from it.

As the dabus saw this, the world changed slightly, and everyone could feel the Lady's eye turn on this room. Mortimer began cursing out his son rather vividly - apparently trafficking in such things is very bad.

We decided that this was a family matter and since our business was done, it was time to leave. But beyond the door to the shop was no longer a street, but a long tunnel. Just over the walls we could see a vast maze stretching out. Scorch drew in his breath and muttered "the deep ethereal…"

We turned around and took in the situation. In the shop was Mortimer and his son, and the mercane as well as the two dabus and us. The two bodyguards were gone, and the box with the eggs gone as well. It seemed the bodyguards had slipped out with the eggs in the confusion.

We fixed our gaze on Mortimer, holding him responsible for this. However he's still cursing out his son but stops to address us.

He explains that the eggs in question were deva eggs. These planar beings attune to whatever plane they are hatched on. The Lady takes a very dim view of such religious creatures and will not tolerate them being hatched on Sigil.  Indeed it is quite illegal to be dealing in such items. (He took a moment to smack his son in the head at this.)

The Lady has therefore moved the shop into the Deep Ethereal as punishment. Usually there is some way out but it is difficult to find and there are creatures here to punish wrongdoers.  Should the devas be born here, it would be a very bad thing and they would be hopelessly corrupted.  If we can secure the eggs and get them out of here and out of Sigil it may help our case.

Of course the two creatures have left with the eggs and gone into the maze that stretches out from the shop door.

Scorch explains that there is no way we can plane shift out of here so we are stuck until the Lady is appeased.  The doors in the back of the shop that had led off-plane are now sealed, so we're stuck. We need to get those eggs.

Since this is now our problem to deal with, we avail ourselves of any and all resources within the shop. Of course most of the display items are junk, but there are the three items within the display cases. Mortimer is not happy about the way we are discussing taking them, but since it's his life on the line also, he resigns himself to us "borrowing" them to resolve the crisis.

Of course the cases are well protected. We all stand behind the glass shield while Valanthe examines the cases. Of course we couldn't quite all fit, and Mortimer made sure it was his son who was left in the room unguarded. Valanthe tried to disable the traps on the first case, but set off an intense firey explosion. She ducked clear of it but Mortimer's son was not so fortunate, and was badly burned. 

Mortimer seemed pleased.

Valanthe also set off a poison needle but got the first case open. The second case went much as the first, except there was an electrical storm set off. Mortimer's son was near dead and Mortimer looked concerned.

"I can't kill him, you see. I promised his mother that she could."

With some hesitation, Dravot healed the son's wounds, and Mortimer kicked him behind the glass screen. In time Valanthe had opened all the cases and we had retrieved the objects. When I picked up the bow, there was a brief puff of wind, and electricity began coursing up and down the bow. I could feel the air sprit within, and found it wonderful. I could see how this bow would not be fond of anyone but a free spirit wielding it.

We began setting up protective spells and then ventured into the maze.  Fuvex-vex-vex, his son, and the mercane all waited at the shop. (The mercane was just a middleman and had no useful information about much of anything.)

Outside the shop there was still some razorvine - a local plant form with sharp stems.  Bolo spoke to it and it said the two beings went down the tunnel but knew little more.

Outside the shop, magic appeared to be working normally. We might have a problem with our divine spellcasters as they may not be able to contact their god for new spells but I was hoping we could resolve this problem before it came to that.  

Over the top of the maze walls there were some flashes of light. Scorch suspected the cracked egg hatched, which meant there would be a deva attuned to this area, and likely quite mad.

The corridor lead to a T and we were unsure which way to go. I cast fly, and floated up to the top of the wall. The maze stretched out quite a ways, and the walls seemed to be shifting in some spots. Across the maze I could see a large glowing blue portal that suggested a way out.  Near as I could tell we should turn right to close on our quarry.

In that direction was some kind of ooze creature. Scorch said it would damage any weapon that contacted it. He tried to speak with it briefly but apparently said something that annoyed it and it attacked. I let several arrows fly into it, and Scorch finished it with a lightning bolt.

And we move on down the corridor.


----------



## WizarDru

*Re: YOU ALL SHOULD READ THIS!*



			
				Argent said:
			
		

> *Wizardru can be evil at times.
> 
> Do you all see? Mean and nasty to the Halfling!
> And I was devoured whole by one of the Deep etherials inhabitants as well!
> And than I met KORD! I'm thinking Bolo died and went to the wrong Heaven! *




*Transcript from the Sigil Labyrinth Repatriation Inquisition
Dated 12 Coldeve *

DM:  To clarify:  did you, or did you not, Mr. Brandybuck, say to your dungeon master, and I quote (looks down at paper), ahem...*"Bring it on!"*?

BB: _"It wasn't like that, your honor!  I was just talking about a plant companion...and the green...and Sigil, I think."_

DM: Yes, yes, of course, Mr. Brandybuck.  Now, on to the issue of being consumed whole by a inhabitant of the Deep Ethereal...was this a result of your own actions?

BB: _"Yes, but I had a plan!  I was going to..."_

DM: Let the record show that the defendant answered 'Yes'.  Mr. Brandybuck, were you the only character so consumed?

BB: _"Well...no, but that's not the point!  *HE ATE ME, FOR EHLONNA'S SAKE!  HE..."*_

DM: For the record, the defendant answers 'No'.  Are you a rogue, Mr. Brandybuck?

BB:  _"What? Well no, of course not...I, uh..."_

DM: Mmm-hmmm.  I see.  Are you a well-armored fighter or heavily protected wizard, with an advanced Armor Class?

BB:  _"Err...Armor?  Ehlonna frowns on such things.  Metal tortured into unnatural shapes is.."_

DM: Your religious beliefs are well known to the court, Mr. Brandybuck.  Answer the question, sir.  Did you then or do you now have a high Armor Class?

BB: _[sputtering noises] "No, but, but..."_

DM: IS IT OR IS IT NOT TRUE THAT YOU WERE WARNED ABOUT AN ATTACK OF OPPORTUNITY, MR. BRANDYBUCK???

BB: _"Yes! Yes, but I thought!"_

DM:  Thought?  THOUGHT?!?  I put forth that you did nothing of the kind Mr. Brandybuck!  I may be just a country dungeonmaster, but I think we folks in the Yeomanry aren't that much different from you high-and-mighty Velunan Druids.  And where I come from, low AC characters don't run into the waiting arms of gargantuan creatures, sir!  In point of fact, you nearly ran into his waiting arms willingly, didn't you?  Didn't you?

BB: _"No, no!  It didn't happen like that!  You're twisting things!  I was going to change into an Elephant!"_

DM: Why, Mr. Brandybuck?  Were you trying to feed it all at once?  Afraid a halfling druid would leave it hungry?

BB: _*WHAT?!?*_

DM: I withdraw the question.   What did your party's rogue, arcane archer, cleric and wizard do, Mr. Brandybuck?

BB: _Well, they, um...they dodge past the creature just like I did._

DM: No, not 'just like you did', Mr. Brandybuck.  They waited until the beast had used his AoO, did they not?

BB: _"Yes, you see? My sacrifice allowed them to manuever! I..."_

DM: ..had NOTHING to do with it, Mr. Brandybuck!  It was Valanthe's who incurred the AoO that protected the party, wasn't it?  And what happened to her, sir?

BB: _[quietly] "She got eaten, too."_

DM: All just part of the great circle of life, I'm sure, eh, Mr. Brandybuck?  Adventures captured by the Lady of Pain, adventurers encounter monster, monster eats adventurers?  Happens all the time, eh, Mr. Brandybuck?  Hmmmph.

So, if I understand you, sir, then you dared to run where a shadowdancer, flying archer, wizard, Paladin and cleric all feared to tread, yes?

BB: _"But there was a cone!  They weren't...!"_

DM: Foolish enough to do what you did?  I agree, sir.  No more questions, your honor.  The defense rests.   Judge?


Judge Scorch:  FEH.


----------



## Zad

*The Grand Tour Chapter 10*

*The Grand Tour - Chapter 10*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience is 3700.

*Notes for Next Time:*

Some day we’ll actually get to go shopping without something exploding.

*Loot:*

+2 shocking burst rapier
+? Studded leather
masterwork shield
4 darts +1 returning (Bolo)
4 masterwork darts
2 gems 5000gp each


*This Week’s Adventure:*

We were still trying to orient when we heard an explosion off in the maze. We figured it had something do with the deva and tried to orient off it. We headed off to the right deeper into the maze.  We hadn’t gone very far when we got another taste of the Lady’s sense of justice – apparently while there was a way out of the maze, it was more likely that the local wildlife would kill you. 

Out of the higher ethereal came five twisted dog-like creatures. They had three single fangs spaced around their gaping maws – Scorch called them ethereal marauders. They certainly weren’t friendly. They appeared in our midst and things got very tense, very quickly.

As they appeared, they tore into whoever was closest. Valanthe sprung into action and came behind one and nearly gutted it, but it was holding on.  I didn’t want to be firing at such close range for fear of reprisals, and flew up some feet and finished off what Valanthe had started. 

Scorch had a nice position for a cone of cold, and showed no hesitation in using one. Neither of the two he caught died, but they were frostburnt in several areas. Dravot moved up with the hammer we “borrowed” from Mortimer and smashed one, and Bolo shifted into an elephant and gored another. Aethramyr killed a third, leaving one left.  Valanthe sliced at it and I turned my attention to it and it collapsed with the rest.

Bolo wanted to stay as an elephant, but given his size, and the fact that the hallway was so narrow, there was little he could do but go forward. So he grudgingly returned to his own form and we moved on.

At the next intersection, I noticed a brief ripple in the wall. It was hard to describe but I had definitely seen something.  As we moved further up, I saw it again. It wasn’t the wall – it was someone camouflaged and watching us. We talked among ourselves over the scale but it seemed to notice we were talking about it, and it took off running.  As it moved I could tell it had some kind of bladed weapon and that it was humanoid, but there was little else to see.

Valanthe was convinced it was a yuan-ti. Bolo tried to use a faerie fire to outline her but she put a minor globe of invulnerability in the way and blocked the spell.  Scorch got off a hold monster however, and that held her still. We then closed in and Scorch tried to charm her. That didn’t work. I tried as well, sure that she would resist me, and I wasn’t proven wrong. Bolo however got through her defenses, and she was now charmed.

Of course she was speaking in Abyssal, and Bolo could not understand her. Scorch served as translator, and he later told me there were any number of interesting epithets included in her words, but he filtered them out during the translation process.

On her we found one of the deva eggs as well as her rapier and a wand of minor glove of invulnerability (7 charges). If the egg hatched here, the deva would be twisted and corrupted. Fortunately Bolo’s bag of holding was still working even on the deep ethereal and we secured the egg inside so that if it hatched, it would be on the astral and it would be much better off for it.  

The yuan-ti was apparently one of the hooded figures in the shop, and it said that its partner had another egg, while the corrupted deva had the remaining one.  Her partner was a goblin, which would account for the short height.

Valanthe was scouting ahead and noticed a goblin hiding down at the next corner. While a yuan-ti is abstract and a new thing, I know what to do about goblins. I asked Valanthe over the scale where he was, and once she gave me the general location I could see him easily enough.  

So I turned and fired on him.  Seeing her chance, the yuan-ti started attacking as well. Of course Dravot simply stepped up to her and cast Slay Living on her, and when his hand touched her shoulder, she shuddered and collapsed immediately.

The goblin was no ordinary goblin, but it was still a goblin. And it fought hard for the rest of its life, which was all of five seconds.

The goblin had a masterwork shield and magical studded leather, and four magical darts, as well as four masterwork darts and two valuable gems. And of course, the second egg which we quickly stored as we had the first.

Elsewhere in the maze there was more noise.  Rubble was flying up from the maze from somewhere fairly close. Unfortunately it flew up and before getting swept into the ethereal wind, it struck a gigantic creature that swam through the ether overhead. We had seen one pass over before but it showed no interest in us. However this one, having been struck, started looking down on the vast maze to find the cause, or perhaps just its next meal.

Scorch said it was an ethereal dreadnaught and not to be toyed with. We quickly hide against the walls. Unfortunately some of us were more used to this than others, and several of us were still easily visible from above. Scorch conjured up an illusion and covered us with it, hoping the beast would pass us by, but it was still looking for its prey.

Scorch tried to draw it off by creating some large dragon like creature and having it squawk and holler as the source of the debris. The thing reacted, and turned its eye toward the illusion and a glowing cone shone forth, and the illusion disappeared. The beast was unsure what to make of this, but it didn’t matter much longer.

One of the dabus came floating down the hallway, and the beast saw it. The creature roared a challenge but the dabus either didn’t understand or didn’t care. The creature gazed for a moment and a cone of anti-magic and the illusion fell, revealing us. There seemed to be no way to avoid taking on this beast directly.

The dreadnaught landed with bone jarring force on the maze, shattering walls all around where it impacted.  A wave of terror washed over us, much like with Nightscale. It seems that self-preservation has a strong voice when facing down beasts that are sure to end one’s life. I was rattled by this but kept moving regardless.

Bolo ran up to the dreadnaught, and it roared down on him and snapped him up in its massive jaws and swallowed him. There wasn’t even time to be shocked before his mental voice was screaming over the scale – apparently he was still alive inside the beast.

We began to fan out to avoid the anti-magic cone. Valanthe tried to dodge in closer but the beast snapped her up and swallowed her also.  Scorch and I moved to one side while Aethramyr angled to the other. 

The dabus was still in front of the beast, and the dreadnaught bit at it. I think it expected the dabus to move but it stood completely still, and the beast smashed its face into the nearby wall. [No matter how big you are, you still roll a one occasionally.] At least it turned off the anti-magic ray.

Valanthe and Bolo were both hurt but alive inside, and Valanthe was able to shadow-shift out with Bolo, so they were safer, for now.  We were finally in position to attack in earnest. Aethramyr was in position and bore down hard with Shatterspike, leaving huge gashes. Scorch dropped a huge fireball that blackened the entire upper half of the creature, and I let loose with a full volley, but the beast was still on its feet despite the serious wounds we had given it.

It was not however entirely stupid. It had wanted a simple meal, and was now in great danger, and it decided it was time to leave. It heaved itself up into the deep ethereal currents. Aethramyr tried to fire an arrow at it but it was blown away by the currents almost immediately.  Scorch threw another fireball but it fizzled against the creature. He had one more chance before it got too far away, and this one struck and detonated, and the beast crashed back into the maze, destroying another huge swath of it.

Since a good bit of the maze was now rubble, it was a lot easier to navigate through and we set off for the general area we thought we could find the deva.  As we were leaving, I turned to the dabus and said “Clean up this mess,” and waved at the vast area of rubble an debris with a grin.

In some areas the maze was slowly reassembling itself, but it was also cracking at the foundation. I began to wonder if something was damaging the platform on which the whole thing stood and if our time was growing short.  At the end of the hall was a large room with four exits, one of which was a glowing blue portal. In some areas there were scorch marks and the stone had been cut away, or simply cut at.  

In the room was the deva, slashing at the floor. It looked like an angel but scarred and twisted. Its wings looked like they had been melted by a candle, and were not capable of flight. It’s face was twisted and askew, as if made of clay and shifted. It glowed with a whitish grey light, but smoke was coming from it in places also. In it’s hand was a huge, flaming sword. This too looked like something made of wax and melted in a candle flame, but still vicious.

Lying on the floor was the last egg. From time to time the deva looked at it and hefted its blade, as if considering cutting it open.

This was one of the saddest things I have seen in my life. The poor thing was clearly in pain and seemed quite insane. None of us thought there was any hope of saving it, and instead we should be merciful and let it rest. We braced ourselves and entered the room.

Valanthe quickly moved for the egg and spirited it away before the deva realized what was happening.  I loosed a volley and it did injure it, but the poor thing seemed just disinterested.  It swooped in and attacked Aethramyr, the wicked sword nicking at him.

Scorch tried to kill it outright with a death spell but it failed, as did a lightning bolt. Aethramyr returned the attack landing some solid blows.

But then more surprises. Dravot entered the room and it recoiled from him, and said in broken celestial “Why are you hurting me?”

We all realized that the poor creature may not be as far gone as we had assumed. I immediately felt ashamed at our acts, and shed a tear for this poor creature that had only been a victim. We all stood back and let Dravot approach it.

He shared words with the creature, which seemed hesitant and scared but somehow recognized Dravot’s holy symbol. It was willing to let him try to help, and Dravot did just that. He cast Heal, which drained him more than usual, but the deva looked vastly improved and some semblance of sanity returned to its divine face.  It said the sword still burned however. Dravot believed it was cursed, and used the chalice to remove the curse. 

The deva stood up, looking vastly improved and taller and straighter. It was still not well, but it was much better than it had been. I dearly hoped that we could find a way to make it well, and I prayed it would be able to forgive us.

Scorch and Valanthe turned to the blue portal. The portal itself was some kind of planar gate but was blocked by a barrier.  Scorch dropped it with a disintegrate, and he and Valanthe determined it lead to Asgard. 

Asgard seemed a lot better place, both for us and for the deva, and so we went through, leaving the Lady’s “justice” behind. We weren’t sure what would happen to Mortimer and his son, but we assumed that once the deva and the eggs were gone, the Lady would be satisfied. Certainly we would be.

We were pulled through a long golden portal, and could hear the sounds growing of battle and crying horns off in the distance. The air felt suddenly warm and I could smell fresh bread and mutton and the sounds of a great hall.  As I came out of the portal, I saw Scorch holding an immense mug of beer and smiling. Just as I came through, a massive bearded man of twelve feet slammed a giant mug into my arms (for it was much too large for my hands). I was bowled over by it, and it seemed I wasn’t alone – only Aethramyr and somehow Scorch managed to hold their feet.

The large man smiled a warm, toothy grin approvingly at Aethramyr and bellowed “Ah, that’s the way! A WARRIOR’S way!  WE EAT!” and he laughed and strode into the hall.

The hall had hundreds of warriors and vast tables filled with food and drink. 

And eat we did.

Bolo kept looking furtively at the large man at the center of it all.  Finally he asked “Is that… Kord?”

At which Scorch and a couple others turned to him and nodded, all with goblets or legs of mutton or what not in hand.  He looked at us expecting some kind of reaction. Finally he said “Aren’t you the least bit awed that you are sitting with the God of Strength?!?”

We all just looked at him blankly.  After a long pause, Dravot said “You’re new to traveling with us. Eventually you just get used to this kind of thing.” And we shrugged and nodded and resumed eating. 

The deva wasn’t too overwhelmed fortunately and seemed as eager for a meal as any of us, and it was content to go along for the ride.

After a long fine meal and bit of soldier’s revelry, we had to think of our charge, and the remaining three eggs. Asgard would not be terrible, but we agreed that taking them to the Elysium fields would be best. We thanked Kord warmly for his hospitality, and wished him well.  Scorch made use of some bit of Elysium essence that Dravot had and was able to shift us to the fields.

Waiting for us were two angelic beings. (Solars apparently.)  One of them looked very stern, but the other was very friendly.  Dravot recognized him and called him “Mel.” They were waiting to take the eggs from us, and we gladly handed them over.  They assured us that the deva could be restored, and they took him gently away. Mel and Dravot had a conversation to one side while we admired the view.

Unfortunately we were now stuck, at least for a day until Scorch could take us back with a spell, or perhaps if we could find a portal back to Sigil.  The various  beings present were welcoming in various degrees. They seemed very warm towards Dravot and Aethramyr, and slightly cooler to each of us.

Bolo started muttering something about going to see Ehlonna, who apparently was on this plane, and started asking for directions from the nearest celestial he could find.

So tonight we rest in the Elysium fields, and tomorrow go back to Sigil and try to go shopping yet again. This is of course assuming we haven’t offended the Lady, otherwise our reception could be unpleasant indeed.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*A Halfling's point of view*

I'm not even sure where to begin. We were whisked away from the store into a huge maze. We were attacked by a huge.. No BIGGER than HUGE monster (it swallowed me whole whe I tried to run under it.) and we saved the life/sanity/soul of an Astra Deva. On the way out of the maze we found ourselves in Asgard. We just pop in and there he is KORD! The greening God of Strength. and what does he do. Tosses all of us a cold one and a side of beef. Now the "mug" and I use the term loosely due to the fact that it out weighed  me by a few pounds was so big that I could not lift it properly. Thankfuly Kord was not offended and actually seemed pleased that I was at least trying to move the mug. He even said "Ha! I like your perserverance." to me.
Than we were off to the Elesian fields. home of Ehlonna and Pelor. Now I'm a Druid and as such the Green and the World are my diety but as a Halfling I worship Ehlonna. I'm stunned by all that is transpiring and await my audience with ....Goddess.

(How will this change our heroic Halfling? Tune in same Meepo time same Meepo channel.)


----------



## dravot

*Dravot’s Journal – Elysium Fields*

Dravot’s Journal – Elysium Fields

We have stopped in the Elysium fields for the evening, resting up in this remarkable place.  I feel like I have returned home.  Some of my friends are uncomfortable with just how nice this place can be, but we’ll be moving on in the morning, returning to Sigil and undoing whatever havoc Meepo and Crescent have wrought upon the city.

I am undecided about Sigil.  I was certainly unprepared for the sight of a daemon walking down the street.  The rules are quite different upon the planes.  I need to remember this in the future.  Luckily I didn’t do anything foolish.

The Lady of Pain doesn’t care for the Gods.  I find this aspect to be the most disconcerting one of all.  On one hand, it does keep those bent on evil from preying upon the city, and it should be commended, but those Gods of good can do much to help those in need, and there is a lot of need in the city.  No temples to any god at all.  That isn’t right.

The more I think about merchant’s son, the angrier I get.  To traffic in the eggs of a celestial being like that is unconscionable, not to mention getting us trapped in that maze when we had nothing to do with the situation in the first place.  While I plan on returning those items which I borrowed from the merchant while in the maze, I am going to extract some form of penance from the young boy for what he did.  I am contemplating several choices, but most likely will demand some form of servitude in Pelor’s name, and perhaps a hefty donation to the church as well. .  He should consider himself lucky, compared to what happened to the other two.  It was oddly satisfying when I killed the yuan-ti with just the touch of Pelor.  It’s almost a shame I didn’t get a piece of the goblin as well.

I am pleased that we were able to help the injured deva.  When we came upon it in the maze, I was sure that  it was beyond redemption, and was ready to strike him down.  I shall never forget the look in his eyes when he espied my holy symbol and pulled back in pain and fear.  I do not know how much they’ll be able to rehabilitate him completely or not.


----------



## Zad

*Chapter 11*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience this session is 1500. Gosh dragons are just so rewarding. Next game is Friday, Sept 13.

*Loot:*

Adding the items from our maze adventure to the RK loot, the cash out per person is 46,930gp each. I’m closing the books on this stuff finally. Bolo gets the +1 darts of returning, Kayleigh has the bow.

*This Week’s Adventure:*

The Fields were welcoming to differing degrees for each of us. Aethramyr found it somewhat disorganized – the small hamlet we had landed it looked as if it had formed as buildings fell from the sky and were set with no thought at all. Dravot seemed somewhat different, as if he had an almost tangible glow about him. He seemed very at home. The rest of us were treated well, but somehow too well, as if we were idiot children or something. But on the other hand, nobody was trying to kill us, and I rate that rather highly these days.

Bolo immediately began talking to a nearby Solar, and it pointed and said “Over there.” And Bolo set off with purpose in his small stride.  He told me briefly what happened when he returned.

He found the portal to the Beastlands that the Solar had indicated and went through. He found himself in a lush wooded area with a large river flowing through it.  Nearby a fantastically huge snake was slithering along. It stopped and regarded him for a few moments, but apparently it was already full and it decided not to eat him and went on its way.

As Bolo examined the river, there was a huge thundering and a shaking of the ground.  Towering up over the treetops was an elephant larger than anything he’d seen before.  He wanted to talk to it so it would point him towards Ehlonna. Of course the problem with a creature that large is getting its attention in the first place. Bolo shifted to elephant form and trumpeted – even as an elephant he was dwarfed by the massive beast.

The elephant heard him though, and looked down. He shifted back to his natural form and asked the elephant where he could find Ehlonna. 

The elephant snorted briefly and extended its massive trunk towards him and inhaled. Bolo was swept up in the rush of air and went soaring towards the elephants nostrils – each the size of a cave. Then suddenly the elephant stopped and using its trunk, snatched Bolo out of mid air.

Before he could even think, the elephant tossed Bolo. Of course a “toss” for this beast meant he was rocketing at insane speeds over the treetops.  He came in low at the end and amazingly hit the ground without hitting a tree, and rolled through several beds of pine needles to an eventual stop. I’m a little confused as to why he wasn’t killed but he absently said something about the nature of the Beastlands.

As he looked up from the forest floor, he saw another massive animal – this time a huge lion. He greeted it, and without replying it picked him up by the scruff of his neck and carried him through the woods.

He came into a clearing and saw the goddess herself. He was at a loss to describe her and could only string together words that didn’t make much sense to me.  He spoke with her briefly, and she gave him two gifts.

One was an acorn the size of a cantelope. As he picked it up, it began to glow, and was drawn into his chest. It imbedded itself there and he felt the sensation of something growing throughout his body and a burning in his skin. Then the sensation faded and the acorn was left as a tattoo on his chest.

The second one was a gift for me. It was a quiver, crude and plainly made. 

Bolo was of course overwhelmed by just seeing her, let alone receiving gifts, but he accepted them. She then dismissed him with a wave, and he was back in the Fields.

At this point we were all in a small inn, enjoying a rather nice meal. A giant bowl of mashed potatoes had just been brought to the table, when suddenly Bolo appeared in mid air, and promptly fell into the potatoes.  When he appeared, we all dove under the table quickly, and our reflexes saved us from having mashed potatoes thrown all over us. We stood up, looked at the scene, and all silently picked up our plates and moved to the next table over.

When he gave me the quiver, I was speechless. I was dumbfounded that Ehlonna would even be aware of me let alone see fit to gift me.  As I took the quiver from Bolo, my own quiver – something recovered in one of our early adventures and named for the goddess – began to glow and smoke. It started to crack and fall apart, and a green energy started billowing off it, being drawn into the new quiver. As this happened, the primitive appearance of the quiver gave way to fine tanning and dyes, and intricate leatherwork.  Soon my old quiver fell to pieces and dissolved away, and a scattering of arrows and other items lay on the floor where it landed. While the few magical or special arrows I had were there, none of the regular arrows were.

And in my hands was a new quiver, quite unlike what it had began as, or even the old one.  

As I realized that there were no regular arrows in the pile, one appeared in my hand, complete with my own fletching and handiwork. Then I realized the nature of this gift of the Goddess, and said a silent word of thanks.

[OOC: This quiver is similar to a standard Quiver of Ehlonna, except that it will produce an unlimited number of non-magical arrows thus solving a pesky ammunition problem. On a roll of 20 on the attack roll, the arrow also has the “wounding” property. Actually at first Wizardru said it was “keen” and I just kind of looked at him for a while.]

Later I spoke with Bolo about this gift.

“Bolo, I don’t understand. It’s a wondrous gift, and I am thankful for it of course – it’s a delight in many ways. But I don’t understand why I would even come to Her attention, let alone She would choose to gift me this way”

He replied without any thought, sure of the answer. “It’s simple really. The Green Lady has seen the good you have done for the Green and they people and animals of the Green. She knows you are a valuable animal yourself and wishes you to know you have her best wishes and blessings in all you do.” He took my hand and said “You and I are champions of the Green. Our world is imperiled and She has in Her way let us know that we are Her chosen.”

I nodded. “Well it seems as fine an explanation as any. It seems at every turn, more gods have their eyes on us than we thought, and for longer than we would have believed. If I am already Chosen of Corellian, why should Ehlonna’s favors disturb me?”

Bolo then became more himself and smiled broadly and added “Besides, wait til I tell my cousin Rasta who I had drinks with! That sanctimonious cleric of Kord will spit venom for weeks!”

I laughed at that. Bolo laughed as well and then reflected further. “You realize Kayleigh that She sees you as Her weapon. She could have given you a bow made from the World Tree itself but she chose to give you a better quiver. I would say that makes you her weapon against the Defilers. And I’ve been chosen to be a Verdant Lord. It will be my duty to speak for the Green and to become so connected to it that I will be as much plant as animal.” And with that he pointed at the new tattoo on his chest. “You were given a quiver because you are already her bow. I was given a new life. I’m not going to be a halfling much longer.”

A dark thought crossed my mind. “It seems many beings have “purposes” for us in mind. I only hope they don’t begin to conflict. Speaking of the World Tree though, did she offer you any insight on that subject?”

He said “She only told me that I would be given the information in time. I can almost hear the whispers from the Green now. I expect the voice will become stronger as I learn to hear it.”

I nodded and we went on to other topics. But one thought stayed in my head.

“So much to do, and no time to do it in.”


The next day we returned to Sigil. We ended up scattered much as we had the first time, this time with Aethramyr and I landing in the seedy part of town. We watched as some kind of thug took an elf and threw him off the side of the city. We were unsure whether to interfere, and I was looking to Aethramyr for guidance. In the end we decided to stick to our own affair, for this was Sigil and the rules were different here.

A pair of eyes watched us from the dark. It called out quietly “A couple cutters like you look like you could use a little help.” Apparently the business of guiding the lost is quite an institution in Sigil. A drow stepped out of the shadows and eyed us. He had some kind of faction symbol around his neck and a cagey look about him.  He offered to guide us out for 150 gold, or 175 with no fighting on the way. I was disinclined, but Aethramyr agreed – he was probably wiser than I. 

We went a short way down the street and the drow produced a crystal rod and went up to a wall. He tapped the wall with the rod in three spots, and each time it glowed a different color. A glowing portal appeared and he stepped through.

Aethramyr and I followed him, and came into a bedroom with a screaming elven woman pulling sheets over her body. With her was an enterprising gnome trying to figure out what was happening. The drow excused us and we walked out, and down the stairs past a barking dog.

Whatever this guide had done, it brought us out right near the Happy Tongue. He took his payment and disappeared.  Meanwhile the others had arrived at various locations, including Dravot and Valanthe at the place of Mortimer’s shop. Of course it was now a park, and there was a hastily erected sign indicating a new location.

At the Happy Tongue, Aethramyr wanted to find Meepo and Crescent. Scorch indicated over the scale that they were there but I swear I could hear a snickering when he said it. They were “in the back” but there was a large outsider guarding the door.

Fortunately my tout was still there waiting for us. If he was impressed we had survived the Lady’s justice, he didn’t show it. He did however arrange to get us in to see what was going on.

In the back there was some kind of gambling going on. There was a huge crowd and a large rectangular pit in the middle of the room. A large chalk board with odds was up against the back wall with an otyugh making changes. For a moment, a small form flashed over the top of the crowd then back into the pit.

Apparently there were two games running – toss the kobold and hit the kobold. Someone explained the basics, repeating that the little guy was pretty scrappy and was impressed. “Hit the kobold” involved hitting the kobold with weapons at range – nothing magical but fireballs were allowed. “Toss the kobold” had something to do with a wall of spikes and was a higher stakes game.  Aethramyr (and I in his wake) managed to work our way to the far side of the pit, where Crescent had a bag tied around his neck, apparently with their winnings.  Near him was a sign

Meepo the Magnifisent – Mastur of Diangur

Aethramyr and I looked at each other with an “amused yet unamused” look. Meepo came over to Crescent and saw us. 

“Oh. Um. Master. I was… That is we were… Um… It’s for the Church! Yes the money is for the Church!” And it went on from there. Meepo looked like he wanted to continue but I had an easy way to fix that. I simply piped up loudly “I’d like to play ‘Hit the Kobold’”. 

Meepo blanched. He might be scrappy, but he knew I could hit him from a country mile away. And that ended the Mastur of Daingurr’s exploits for the day.

We set about the task we came to Sigil for: shopping. Instead of returning to Mortimer straight away we instead decided to handle our other tasks first.  We split up in smaller groups or with hired guides and headed out to sell and buy. Before we did though, I asked Valanthe to look into a rather unusual item for me – I figured that she might be able to find it since it wouldn’t be available through the usual connections.

Fortunately the trip was uneventful. We first sold off the goods from Runn-Khazai, and then were able to pursue purchases of our own. Personally I acquired a new amulet of natural armor, and made arrangements to have an earring enchanted with Shield.  I had been considering a new bow but I think Mortimer had solved that problem for the time being.

After some time, Valanthe contacted me about the special item. It would cost 10,000 gold. I had to consider it a moment but decided to go ahead. It would take a day to have ready but it would be done.

The item was a scroll. A scroll with two spells. One was See Invisible – a trivial matter really. But the second was not, and it was linked to the first.

Permanency.

I had researched the matter – while see invisible could be made permanent, it would only work for the caster. So I would have to find a way to cast it myself. While casting such a scroll was not going to be a completely simple matter, I was reasonably sure I could manage it. And it would be of significant help to us with matters like Sebastian.

[OOC: In this campaign, arcane archer is slightly different, and gains a few caster levels on the way. Kayleigh will soon be capable of 4th level spells. With a caster level check, and avoiding a bad roll, she can cast the permanency spell.]

We met back at the inn and discussed our results. Almost all of us had an item or two that required some delivery time and we would have to arrange to either stay or return. Valanthe also had paid to have some scrying done – a rather brilliant idea I thought. 

She had seen a mountain volcano. Some kind of magma golems paced the area, guarding it. Vast chains of mithril, crackling with chaotic energy, stretched across the mouth of the volcano. In their grip they held a charred and blasted dragon. It was barely conscious and not recognizable. The chains each pulled and lifted in their own time and would frequently lower the dragon into the lava below it, burning it further.

You would not know to see him, but it was Lord Gelban.

Disturbing news. Gelban was being held surely by Infernus. But the question was where, and what else guarded him. This was something we would have to take up soon.

During a second scrying, we all felt a shock through our scales, and they changed color to a bright silver. Valanthe was not detailed on the vision itself but I assumed it was to find the Hammer.

Meanwhile we had the matter of Mortimer Fuvex-vex-vex to deal with.  While tempting to keep all the items we had “borrowed” from him as payment for services rendered, we instead decided to return the hammer and the shield to be fair. This would help preserve Mortimer as a business contact that we could dispose of other “delicate” items in the future with.


We went to his new shop location. We came through the door and Mortimer sat at his desk and looked up. He simply shouted to the back “They’re here boy!”

His son immediately came out and began groveling away. 

It was a most impressive grovel and partially explained why the boy was still alive.  Once it was done, or at least tapering off, we spoke to Mortimer about the items. Whereas before he seemed to delight in the art of the “haggle” this time he seemed to want to dispense with the opening moves and get to the point.  When we told him we would return the shield and hammer, I think he was genuinely surprised, but tried to hide it.

We made it clear that we wanted him to remain in business, and that this would hopefully support that, so that we could have a close business relationship in the future. The implications were not lost on him, but he seemed agreeable to that. Dravot added a further condition of a private conversation with his son, which of course Mortimer was very agreeable to. 

Dravot laid a geas on the boy for service at a church of Pelor, and seemed very pleased with himself.

As we left the shop, Scorch pulled out a crystal ball – one of his new purchases. And in an absent kind of way, he decided to check on his sister. And what he saw was not what he expected.  Ember was running through a field in a panic, and something behind her was shooting a jet of acid at her.

Nightscale’s brother to be sure. Our entire mood shifted from commerce to something more serious. We made preparations and after a few spells, Scorch returned us to the Prime.

We arrived on some barren island of ice. Scorch muttered something about plane shift not being very precise, and he then teleported us to the area he had scried.

But that wasn’t where we landed.

We were in the land of black ice somewhere. But the scene was blasted from fire and acid. Buildings were on fire, and the land was blasted. Fifty feet away, a squad of blue bugbears stood ready to attack. Scorch spat a curse about being “redirected” but there wasn’t time for any more details.

The bugbears were here to just be a reception committee, and we didn’t waste much time on them. They were hearty for bugbears but little actual threat. Half of them fired crossbows, and the only one that got close to me I simply knocked the bolt aside. After a few fire spells and some combat, they were all dead.

Scorch said that he now believed the scene he scried was a deception designed to cause our return, and land us here.  Since this is where we were expected, we wasted no time in moving away from that spot. 

In the distance, I could see stormclouds and lightning. And in the air were dragons.

Black dragons. At least a half dozen. Two of them were closer and noticed us, and banked in the air towards us.

Watching the coppers attack was a thing of deadly grace. But the blacks were more serpentine, and while they were more at home in water, they were no strangers to the air. They folded their wings back and came in at great speed and were quite careful in their approach.

We braced for them and cast some spells to prepare.  After a most welcomed mass haste, Scorch tried an experimental fireball, but it had a minimal effect. Bolo tried a fire storm and that too was less deadly than we might have hoped.

They were now close enough for me to open fire, and I did so. They were a good distance, and some of my arrows bounced off their hide, lacking a solid angle. Even so three found solid purchase.  Scorch tried a disintegrate and bits of one dragon fell away.  

Both dragons were closing at unbelievable speed. Remembering Nightscale, Aethramyr dispelled one dragon, and several minor spells fell away and the dragon slowed considerably.

The dragons began blasting people with acid but our preparations meant that it did very little harm. They were closer now and more in range for spellcraft. Bolo had a flame strike fizzle against the resistant nature of the dragons, but his ice storm worked fine.  Dravot got off a searing light but it had minimal effect. I continued firing at one dragon, hoping we could overwhelm it.

Aethramyr had closed in on one dragon, and the dragon now retaliated. But Sehanine was with him, and most of the dragon’s blows were knocked aside by Shatterspike.  Scorch now took Aethramyr’s example and dispelled the other dragon, and it too lost several spells.  The second dragon moved to surround Aethramyr, but then Valanthe moved in behind it and began tearing at vital bits of its underbelly.  Dravot stepped up, the Sunhammer blazing with holy light and the crunch of bones was heard across the field.  We had dangerously divided our attention, but the positioning meant we could do little more.  I fired again at the same dragon, and overwhelmed by spell, sword and arrow, it finally crashed to the ground in a tangle of claw wing and teeth.

The other dragon, surrounded and badly wounded, decided to flee. But as it took to the air it was pounced on from all sides and it too crashed to the ground in a pool of black blood.

In the sky, several of the others had heard the death cry of their wingmates, and banked towards us. Six more were closing in, four from in front and two behind. They land nearby, but out of the sky appear six more dragons – this time coppers.  The cry of relief was audible from every one of us. The blacks, seeing their more hated enemy, turn on the coppers.

A large copper smashed down on top of a black, driving it to the ground and snapping its neck. The dragon turned to us and said “Go take care of Ebonclaw – we’ll take care of these. He has Ariadne.” It was the Hammer’s voice, and Valanthe seemed greatly relieved at seeing him alive. 

“Go on. Agner and Haldrin can’t hold out for long.”

We nodded and headed for the grove, ready to send Ebonclaw to meet his sister.


----------



## Valanthe the Sleepless

*Valanthe's Journal - The Grand Tour - part 1*

Old friends, new enemies...

Well, after having a little side trip to the Deep Ethereal, then Kord’s table, and then the Elesium fields (and boy was I glad to leave, it’s so boring there), we finally got to get back to the business at hand – shopping in Sigil!

Sigil is beginning to feel like a second home to me. Little surprise there, eh? Once again I managed to land in the Market place, and waisting no time, I went to look for the Indeps faction. Where else to go to get some first rate shopping in? I had my own list and a special list for Kayleigh. I thought mine might be hard to fill, until I looked at her list. Whew, she was going to paying a lot of jink for that scroll, if I could find it. Fortunately the market I found would have most likely put the Midnight Market back home to shame.

My pockets were heavy for the first time in months, but that would change quickly. New armor, upgrades to the sword and one of my rings,  a new cloak, and some scrolls, and I was a poor primer once again. Good stuff to be had though.

While browsing some wares at one of the stands, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck tingling. I turned aroung and saw what looked to be an eye watching me from someplace afar. I know that eye! Scorch! But rather than let my dismay be shown, I just smiled and casually let slip a few rude kobald gestures his way. (Meepo has taught _me_ a few things along the way) He quickly dropped out of sight. Scry on me will he? He’s lucky I still owe him a favor.

With my shopping complete, I did have one pouch of funds set aside for some information. I went to find a seer, one that had to be good at the hard-to-finds. In one of the corners of the market, I hit paydirt. I entered the tent, and found what I think to be a Kuotoah. It was pretty strange looking, but I went on to explain my two missing persons, or rather, dragons. The first one I described, in detail, was Hammer. The thing, not sure if a he or a she, worked their magic and in the crystal ball I saw an image take form. Clouds and sky were visible, and then appeared the flying form of a copper, which I thought to most surely be my Copper.

The next dragon to find though, was not so easy and I wasn’t sure the odds on that one being found. But luck was with me tonight, and a picture did form in the crystal. A scene from what looked like an active lava pit greeted my eyes. Magma golems arose, armed, from the pit. I saw, and to some extent could feel, chaotic chains binding a charred form over the lava pit.

I was a bit shocked at the view, literally, for I suddenly felt an electrical charge shoot out of the scale and zap me. Afterwards, the scale, which was dull gray, had now turned to bright silver. I can only ponder the meaning.

Now it was time to return to the Happy Tongue and meet the rest of my companions. And to find out how Meepo and Cresent have been getting by. 

I can only say this… I nearly shed a tear of joy when I found out about Meepo’s business. That’s my boy! Now I only have to help him work on his fast talking skills ;-)

After a brief meal, Scorch had thought to do some more scrying. Ember was found, but not as we thought she’d be. Ebon Claw has tracked more of our friends down and now there was dire consequenses. After a brief round of buffs, we took off for the Black Ice.

(note: I won’t bother repeating the dragon’s fight here. Zad already took care of that)

After taking down the bugbears and 2 Blacks, we found ourselves surrounded by four more Blacks… but not for long. Down from above came a shot of lightning and the beautiful shine of a Copper.

And I’d know that Copper’s look anywhere. Aye, the bugger. Lettin’ me worry for so long. Not that I’d let ‘im know that, mind you. But I was none too relived to see him come crashing down on the black that was threating us just a second ago.

Now only if we had some time to chat. It would be nice to find out if he had any word of Gelban. Unfortunately, Ebon Claw was  causing problems and just itching for a touch of cold steel right betwix’d his scales. Ariadne’s safety and that of the Black Ice had to come first.

We are running on half strength right now, having spent a good deal of energy on the previous fight. Will we have enough resources to take Ebon Claw down? That is now the question.

I absent-mindedly craddle the bone dice in my hand as we head off towards the the old and dangerous Black…


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*Have you seen the Jack in the Green?*

I'm at a loss for words. I've met Ehlonna. In person. When we got to the E. Fields I wasted no time asking a Solar where I might find a portal to the Beastlands. I had to find out what is killing the Green on the Prime Material plane. My objective was to find the one person who would know for sure....The Goddess herself.
I run through the portal as fast as my Boots of striding could carry me. and as soon as I exited the portal I plummited 50 feet or more into the Styx (that's the river silly, not the bards). From there I could see a huge Dire Serpent in the trees. She was Beautiful. I got out of the water and wondered where to go from there when I saw huge tree trunk thick grey legs. I looked up and saw a Celestial dire elephant. Biggest thing I have ever seen. You could fit a village of Halflings on his back and he would never notice. I had to get his attention some how so I took my elephant form and trumpeted as loudly as I could. He stopped and his massive head looked down to me. I shifted back to my Humaniod form and asked him to take me to Ehlonna (still cannot believe it happened) He whisked me up in a breath and flung me in the direction. I remembered that nothing actualy dies in the beastlands they just regenerate all damage even after "death". I landed with a bone jaring thud in a bed of pine needles and standing over me was a Celestial Dire Lioness. She took me gently by the clothing and walked me to Ehlonna. I will not even begin to try to describe her. She gave me 2 gifts. one was a Quiver of Ehlonna that I was to give to Kayleigh and the other was all mine. I was given an Acorn. The acorn merged into me and grew inside of me. I'm starting to change slowly into a plant being. I've heard of these beings before. The Verdant Lords... I'm about to enter the mysteries of the Green full force. My Goddess commands me so.


----------



## WizarDru

The agony continued. 


It wasn't the spikes, but the acid that hurt so much.  The burning that never went away.  He healed, of course, but the acid continued to burn, and so a stalemate had arisen.  But he could not regenerate forever; his strength was failing him.  

The Tree.


The Tree was DYING.


Poison crept in from half-a-dozen places, each burning and sizzling.  It had been easier before the abominations had come.  Sometimes they came with his captors.  They would ask him some questions which he would ignore, his pain too great and his anger too strong.  The abmonations talked amongst themselves in a horrifying sound that was a cross between a cricket and a wild dog.  His idiot captors, foul betrayers of the Green, seemed not to have noticed that they were scarcely needed at all.  They knew something was wrong, but could not determine what.  It was plain to him that they were superflous now, their work done; they were dead weight, and sooner or later, they'd discover what happens to such.

He could not suss out who their true masters were, though he had plenty of time for thinking.  His mother promised aid soon, and so did his aunt.   

But how soon was soon?  


The agony continued.


--------------------------------------------------

*Tonight!  FRIDAY FRIDAY FRIDAY!

Live!  From the Black Ice Round Garden!  A Dyvers Cage-Match Event!

Our Heroes versus the forces of Ebon Claw!

BE THERE!*


----------



## Zad

*The Grand Tour Chapter 12*

*The Grand Tour - Chapter 12*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience this session was 5,625. 

This was one of the most exciting and epic battles I think we’ve ever been in.

*Loot:*

Three scrolls of stoneskin
Acid proof pouch
2 potions of heroism
ring of protection +2
ring of protection +2 (not a typo)
ring of magic fang
iridescent spindle ioun stone (don’t have to breathe)
pink and green sphere ioun stone (+2 charisma)
stone of good luck
scroll of minor globe of invulnerability
+2 full plate
+2 keen scythe
bracers of armor +2


*This Week’s Adventure:*

We wasted no time and got moving. We could all take to the air by some means except Aethramyr, and my casting fly on Crescent solved that. We set off at a rapid pace towards the grove.

While en route, I happened to look at the scale pinned to my dress. Once having been a gold dragon scale from Lord Gelban, it was now a highly reflective silver. It was probably the most useful tool we had.

Silver.

Polished silver.

I couldn’t believe I didn’t realize it sooner. It only took the smallest act of concentration to contact the Silvering. Apparently he had somehow re-routed these scales to contact him instead of our missing benefactor. An image formed in my mind of the old elf, seated and gently sipping tea.  His eyebrows rose ever so slightly at my call. I could hear his words forming out of vapor “Ah, young Kayleigh! How glad I am to finally speak with you again. We had feared you lost to us.”

I responded politely but with brevity. “My apologies. Circumstances took us off the prime material for a time. To make matters brief, Sebastian broke from Chavram and made a play for the evocation binder. It is . . . no longer an issue however. We just arrived in the Land of Black Ice and are about to try to deal with Ebonclaw.”

For a moment, the image blurred, and for a second I saw a silver dragon, older than any I had ever seen, lying half asleep in some far off place. The dragon dreamt a thought “Events have moved dramatically in recent days, but now is not the time, if you indeed speed to do battle with one of Black’s captains. His hate of you was clear, though he could do little about it. I do not know whose allegiance Nightscale’s sibling holds, if any these days. He is powerful, though, and I advise caution. That one clawed his way free of his mother, to her ill result.”

I nodded. “Understood. I will contact you again shortly, provided of course we are still alive. However assuming that Ariadne is still alive and we are able to save her, she will need a new safe haven.”

As we sped forward, I willed a stop to the lightning crackling around my bow, and used a spell to replace it with fire. The blacks seemed unfazed by the electricity, so perhaps this would work better.

The terrain sped by as we closed the half mile to the grove.  As we topped a rise, we could see the village, and Ebonclaw’s forces.  Many buildings were in flames, and there were vast pools of acid on the ground. (Standing pools, not simple the remains of an acidic breath.)  The village was overrun with blue bugbears, cutting down the fleeing villagers. On rooftops, some bugbears with bows made sport of shooting the innocent people.

In the mayhem, I quickly made out two more unusual figures. One was familiar – a monstrous flesh golem – the one that had been with Aeoket when he attacked Scorch and me in Greyhawk. The other was an umberhulk, moving with unusual balance and agility.  

As we came in from the south, we simply smashed into the enemy and killed as we went through.  As the umberhulk was nearby and a larger target, I opened fire on him. As my first arrow came towards him, he batted it aside with a massive claw, but another stuck firm. Valanthe closed in on him and put a blade across him. As we made our presence felt, bugbears continued to slaughter the villagers, and the flesh golem smashed two villagers to a pulp with his massive fists.  Aethramyr closed on the umberhulk and brought Shatterspike to bear, cutting deep into the umberhulk’s hard shell. He collapsed to the ground, ichor oozing from the gashes in his carapace.  Scorch had no shortage of targets and used a cone of cold to blast several bugbears, nearly killing them outright. Bolo conjured a whirlwind on the far end of the village and began sucking up bugbears into the funnel. 

To make sure the umberhulk didn’t get back up, I spared one arrow and finished him.  And of course I remembered that my burning arrows would slow down the flesh golem as they did our last encounter, so I put one into him for that purpose. The golem roared and while he didn’t seem completely slowed, he was no longer moving as fast as he had been. Someone had likely cast Haste on him, and this would at least counteract that. I used my last two shafts to finish off two bugbears that Scorch had wounded.  The scene below me turned into a blur. Valanthe, Aethramyr, and Dravot slashed through the nearby bugbears. The bugbears tried to attack but they could do little and within seconds every bugbear nearby was dead.

Valanthe’s voice came over the scale – she sensed Redbone nearby but wasn’t sure where. Dravot acted quickly, and was able to sense her undead presence. He brought forth the light of Pelor, and whereas once she had confounded him, he had grown since then, and his faith was strong. Pelor’s light shined forth, and Redbone was not only revealed, but blasted into a sheet of ash and left nothing more than an outline on the ground.

[OOC: And Scorch says “But she left her possessions behind right??”]

I decided I needed some haste myself, and cast it, and then moved up to begin working on the flesh golem.  Some arrows were arcing past near me, and it was possible that the bugbears were shooting at me. One bugbear got lucky, and had an arrow that was actually well aimed, but just before it struck I grabbed it in mid air, and simply stared at him.

Meanwhile Aethramyr riding Crescent was a flash of steel and blood carving through bugbears. Some attacked us, some continued to prey on villagers although most had fled or were already struck down. Dravot cured Valanthe of an acidic cough from when she inhaled the fumes near an acid pool. At the far end of town, the whirlwind continued to scoop up one bugbear after the next.

I turned again on the golem, and fired seven arrows in fast succession. Magic or not, his rotted flesh couldn’t stand any more, and he flew apart in a pile of gore and stitching.  As he fell forward onto the ground, the bugbears decided they had enough of this, and any that were able turned to flee.

Aethrmayr turned to the nearest one, clocking him with the pommel of Shatterspike soundly. We didn’t want to waste time, but knowing what else waited with Ebonclaw could be invaluable. Dravot provided a tongues scroll for translation, and we made our questions clear.

The bugbear told us Ebonclaw was by the great tree, and that there was a creepy woman with him. We suspected it was the cleric who had attacked Aethramyr in Greyhawk. Since there was little else to know, we released him. I was tempted to cut him down, but didn’t think he was worth the trouble. I hope I do not come to regret that.

The grove was quite close. Suddenly the lightning storm stopped, and that had to be a bad sign. We moved past some dense underbrush and came into the grove proper.

The grove was dominated by a huge rowan tree.  On the ground were more vast pools of acid, and at places twisted growths of roots poking out of the ground.  The Owl was nearby, unconscious, with Haldrin near her, on his feet bracing for something.  On the far side of the tree, the giant polar bear of Agner’s was lying on its side moaning. From a branch, Ember was wrapped in coils and dangling and screaming.  A huge pile of compost was under the canopy, and it began writhing with twig horrors. 

Agner, Ariadne, and most importantly Ebonclaw were nowhere to be seen.

I wasted no time in firing on the twig horrors, but they seemed more resistant to arrow fire than before. Ember, seeing us, began screaming that Agner was in the acid.  One pool looked much deeper than the others, and Agner was likely dragged inside by Ebonclaw.  Dravot brought down a recitation as the root horrors closed in. Valanthe ran to the Owl and revived her with a potion as Scorch brought us another Mass Haste. Bolo, exercising control over plant life, managed to panic two of the root horrors, and they ran off, while the other two attacked Aethramyr and Haldrin. 

Then, out of the deep pool of acid, came Ebonclaw. Screeching and spraying green fluid everywhere, he landed near Haldrin. You couldn’t help but feel a wave of dread as he leapt onto the grove floor. He hissed loudly and marveled at his luck – here he was looking for us and we just show up when he wasn’t even trying. He then spat a stream of acid but it had little effect given our protections.

Scorch wasted no time in stripping Ebonclaw of enchantments. Some clearly fell away, but the familiar haze meant he was still hasted.  Valanthe moved up to Ebonclaw on the far side of Haldrin and attacked. Ebonclaw was no hatchling, and his scales turned aside some of Valanthe’s attacks. I began firing, but sometimes even when the arrows hit solidly, they simply shattered rather than drove into his flesh. Even so, he couldn’t ignore them all as couple pierced him.  Dravot ran across the field in a flash, and healed the bear to save its life. The two remaining root horrors attacked again, but to little effect, and soon they too were fleeing from Bolo. 

Suddenly a fiendish rhinoceros appeared nearby. It seemed our evil cleric was indeed nearby and at work. This could be troublesome if she began providing healing for Ebonclaw. The rhino charged Aethramyr and Crescent.  Scorch, having started a summoning earlier, brought forth an earth elemental, and ordered it into the acid to retrieve Agner. The then turned on Ebonclaw and dispelled the haste spell, making things much easier for all of us. 

Ebonclaw had felt Valanthe’s sting and was going to deal with her. He hissed and tore into her with a flurry of fang and claw and wing. Valanthe managed to keep her feet but was sorely bloodied and in grave danger.  Aethrmyr ignored the rhino and charged Ebonclaw to provide a distraction for Valanthe, and brought Shatterspike down into his scales. Bolo, having dealt with the horrors, threw a flame strike on the rhino.

Valanthe pulled back in order to heal herself, and wisely so. I continued firing for all I was worth. I was finding more purchase with the haste gone, but it was still difficult to make my arrows land true.  The cleric must have decided that I was a threat, and threw a wind wall around Ebonclaw. The black was beginning to feel our combined might, and while still firmly on his feet, he could not simply consider us harmless. The wind wall was low enough I could get over it and continue my attack, but the cleric began to worry me more. 

Scorch could now turn his full attention to the attack, and started with a fireball and lightning bolt. The black ignored the lightning but felt the sting of the fire. Ebonclaw attacked Aethramyr with a vengence, and Aethramyr matched him blow for blow. But the paladin could hardly stand that kind of punishment much longer. 

Bolo dropped a briarweb, hoping to prevent Ebonclaw from fleeing. While the massive black was not trapped, it still felt the barbs of the vines. 

Valanthe continued to use whatever means she had to heal for she was still seriously injured.  I debated carefully, and in the end decided that the cleric could do more to turn this battle, and therefore was a larger threat. I quickly found her hiding near the rowan, and put four arrows into her. She had no scales to protect her, and her plate armor did her little good – the arrows all found their mark, and she fell forward onto the great tree in a heap.

Dravot meanwhile sped across the field and with a touch and a word, restored Aethramyr to full health. A boon that Ebonclaw would soon wish for.  Scorch threw a prismatic spray at the dragon which caught a green ray.  He also tried a finger of death, but it merely washed over the dragon with no impact.  Ebonclaw was ready to breath again, and hissed at Aethramyr, Dravot, and Scorch.  All of them moved aside however, and suffered only the smallest of burns.

[OOC: This marks the second time that Dravot actually made a reflex save.]

Ebonclaw had enough, and tried to lift himself into the air and away from us. I did not know how he planned to escape but it would not come easily. However even before he could get airborne, Aethramyr brought Shatterspike down in one mighty swing into the belly of the beast, and Ebonclaw shook and crashed back into the earth. He roared and shouted “Noooooooooooooo!”

It was the last sound he would make.

Meanwhile the elemental had little luck finding Agner. Clawing her way out of the acid came Ariadne, in her half draconic form. She had Agner in her arms, the flesh peeling from his bones. The druid was dead. Ariadne herself was only slightly burned.

As we were preparing to turn our attention to the blacks overhead battling the coppers, they suddenly turned and routed. They must have heard the death of their captain, and wasted no time in leaving.

Bolo found Ravenna and the children in the great tree. Ravenna was only barely conscious, the damage to the tree and to the Green itself overwhelming her. The tree itself had massive spikes of some lead-like metal in it, driven by immense force. They seemed to be somehow leeching acid into the tree. We set about removing them, and Bolo began seeing to the care of the great tree. 

Ebonclaw came here with some purpose, and despite my initial thought, it was not simply to draw us into the open. Why did he come here? Why poison this tree? And who was he working for?


----------



## WizarDru

LightPhoenix said:
			
		

> *
> 
> You know, every time I read a story hour, I'm always curious about the way a group plays, and if it's anything like how we used to play before our group split up.  I would love to see a webcam  *




Well, other than the stuff Scorch mentioned, there are a few other features to our game:


a) At least twice a session, someone has to look up either grappling or dispelling to determine the actual mechanic. Usually the absent-minded DM.   

b) Someone casts a spell, to which the DM replies "Save DC?" followed by a blank look, paper shuffling and then an answer.

c) Zad will say, with no trace of irony, "Five shots...low roll is a 42.  They hit?" 

d) The DM will request the group to make a Save of any kind and "not roll a 1.". 

e) The DM will be forced to look up either a spell he doesn't know of, or a specific rule he's never used.

f) Horrible puns will fly across the table based on a NPC name.  

g) Someone will mock either Meepo or Bolo.  

h) Something will eat Bolo.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*Bolo Gets the Good end of the stick!*

(A Letter to Bolo's parents)

Dear Momma and Poppa,
Things are happening faster than I could have expected. My new companions are wonderful people. But there is a new twist to my duities. It would seem that there was a Druid named Agnar in the Realms of Black Ice, He died recently and it was proficied that another (greater) Druid would come and take his place managing his Grove and protecting the local human village. Well it winds up that the Avatar of Beory is sure that I'm the Greater Druid. I now have a Great Rowan to tend to. (Momma is't bigger than your whole garden!) as well as the surrounding grove. The land of black ice is magnificent and my new friend Borialis (He is an awakened polar bear) is showing me all the sights. I have never seen so much beauty and desolation all at the same time.
Please... I need the family's help. Please consider comming to live in the Grove or the village (Poppa a Paladin of Yollanda like yourself should know they need a hero in this wilderness.) I will make sure that you have a comfortable home and all the things you could need. I'm already working on vests of the winterlands for myself and my companions for when they are here.

Please consider moving here. Momma I could use another druid here and Poppa I need a warrior of your power to defend the grove and the village while I am not able to be here. The were just attacked by a flight of black Dragons and need all the help they can get repairing the village. Besides I know a certain Halfling who lives here that would just love to share his home brew with you. his name is Haldren.
Bye for now,
Bolo Brandybuck


----------



## dravot

*Dravot's Journal - Hexpools*

Dravot’s Journal – Hexpools

Today I have seen the horrors of war, and the promise of peace when war is averted.  It would appear to be quite the day for paradoxes.

I spoke briefly with Prestwick and Jasmine via _sending_, and learned that Greyhawk was still standing and not in a great position, but doing ok under the circumstances.  The city was now being run by the Scarlet Brotherhood and something called the Greyhawk Dragons, which I was not familiar with.  I must speak with the Silvering about them tomorrow.

My next _sending_ was to my mentor, Bellamy.  We had some unfinished business and I wished to speak with him about the new developments.  I sent my message into the aether, but no response came.  This made me quite anxious and I went directly there through _word of recall_.  I arrived in the library of the Temple of Pelor, or rather where the library should have been.  The entire temple was a smoking ruin.  Embers still glowed in places, testifying to the recent distruction of the temple.

I was speechless.  I find it hard to imagine even now.  The temple had been my home for much of my time as a novitiate, and it’s completely gone.  Even though I couldn’t speak, I quickly scanned the area for clues.  Much of Hexpools had met with the same fate as the temple.  Mostly rubble remained in the immediate area.  A few buildings or partial buildings stood here or there, but Hexpools was gone.

I moved carefully through the rubble, looking for survivors from what conflagration might have caused this disaster.  I came across a half-elf, thin and gaunt.  When he saw me approach he fled.  I chose not to pursue him, as I felt that running heedlessly through the ruins would be dangerous.  I continued on, and came across several more people who also fled.  One of them looked up as she darted down the street and then I saw it; a red dragon flying above the remnants of the city.  I quickly scanned the skies and saw two or three more of the foul creatures.  At this point I relayed what I had learned to my companions as I considered my options.  We needed more information than the bare facts as I understood them, so I decided to continue, and imitated the behavior of the others as I moved on; occasionally looking up, darting from spot to spot, never staying out in the open for long.

Thirty minutes later I came across a building still standing.  Outside the building a cleric of Fharlanghn was feeding a line of people.  I approached slowly; the cleric looked up and realized by the condition of my garments that I was not a victim of the disaster.  Various scents and odors competed for my attention; the soup that he was serving, the smoky haze that hung over the city and the stench of decaying bodies all swirled around us.

He asked my name, and I answered simply.  This was not a time and place for titles.  His eyes opened wide.  “Dravot?  Is that truly your name?  Are you a follower of Pelor?”

I confess that this perplexed me quite a bit, but I answered his questions.  “It is indeed my name, and I do have the honor of being a cleric of Pelor.”

He quickly ushered me into the building, looking over his shoulder at those receiving food.  “That is not a safe name to be spoken on the streets.  People…things…are looking for you.”

“How, looking for me?”

Aerich (for that was his name) then told me of the assault on Hexpools.  Undead troops invaded the city.  The Temple of Pelor lead the defense of the city, but no one had heard from them since the fight.  He presumed them to be dead.  The intelligent undead asked those in the city for Dravot, constantly seeking Dravot, killing indiscriminantly when they thought it might gain them intelligence as to my whereabouts.

Shortly thereafter the red dragons arrived.  Given the work between the bugbears and the black dragons here in the north, I cannot believe that this was a coincidence, nor mere opportunism on the part of the wyrms.  People are trapped in town.  No one who tries to leave is heard from again, but it is not known if they are killed or if they actually escaped.  The reds allow some food to come into town from time to time, but it’s barely enough for those still alive.  Aerich speculated aloud that they were being kept for some later nefarious purpose.

This news was just starting to settle in a rather discomforting manner when he told me more unsettling news.  The effort to contain Rauxes had failed utterly and those who occupied it roamed the countryside freely.  No one had heard from the Overlord for some time either, and he was looking for me as well.

And yet there was more news, or rather, a rumor that he had heard of.  A cult had arisen in the eastern portion of the city.  A cult dedicated to that of a wyrm.  My blood ran cold when I heard this.  Apparently the cult had existed for sometime, but only in secrecy.  This has changed since the coming of the red dragons.

I thanked Aerich for this information, though it upset me quite a bit.  I swore to him that this would be fixed.  I feel almost like it was my fault, that I should have been there, though I had responsibilities elsewhere.  He then gave me a small tidbit of good news: an underground resistance was forming, and he was part of it.  I told him that I would probably need to call upon this resistance when we liberated the town, and handed him some coins to help with the effort.

That done, I helped him to feed those who came for food, and heal and give comfort as best I could before I returned back to the grove.

I can still smell the smoke.  It permeates my clothes thoroughly.  I doubt that I will be able to rid it from my memories for quite a while.  It will fade once we free Hexpools I am sure.

Meanwhile, I have much to do, and much to be concerned about.  Jasmine reported to me that food is quite expensive in Greyhawk, and she will need some money in order to keep the house going.  I must meet with Prestwick to find out more about the situation there, and yet I worry about the presence of the Scarlet Brotherhood throughout the city.  I fear that yet again, I may not be able to walk down the streets and will be forced to skulk about like our foes are accustomed to.

Tomorrow I will speak with Thora and learn of Brindinford’s fate.  Given Hexpool’s situation, I fear for my family and my town.  If it is standing, it is only because the Foe is watching it for my return.

The more I think about this, and write about it, the angrier this makes me.  Regardless, I am sure that we will prevail.  Even now, I am making plans for our assault of Rauxes and my grandfather, Chavram.

I take some minor comfort at least in knowing that the peoples here will have a chance at peace, thanks to Aethramyr's efforts today.


----------



## Zad

*Chapter 13*

*OOC Notes:*

Exp this session is 2500. This was mostly a cleanup session providing a little downtime we needed. Also part way through the session, MSWord/my laptop got weird, and I lost the session notes up to that point.

*This Week’s Adventure:*

With the dragons run off, we turned our attention to the mess at hand. Dravot and Aethramyr began tending to the wounded villagers while Bolo looked after Ravenna and the great rowan.  Scorch was talking to his sister and pushed a bucket into her hands, when the ground shook with the landing of the Hammer.

The copper dragon swiveled his head at Scorch, who it seemed had intentions on Ebonclaw’s remains, and told him that would not be wise – they had a duty to perform with the fallen dragons. Scorch, immediately recognizing the futility of arguing, simply uttered a “Feh” and put his bucket away.

A minute later, another copper arrived. It was easily twice the size of the Hammer. It took in the scene a moment, then slowly shifted its way down to the form of a six-and-a-half foot tall human. The Hammer looked on and waited. His air was not exactly deferential, but something else. What became clear quickly.

He introduced himself brusquely as The Anvil. Obviously the Hammer’s older brother.  He spoke largely to Dravot and Aethramyr, though I can’t say why. He was very insistent that we not touch the remains of Ebonclaw or the other blacks. They had to be “collared” – some type of ritual from the tone of it. Perhaps it had to do with insuring they were not resurrected. In any case, we left them to their business as there was plenty for us to attend to.

One of the primary concerns was the huge pools of acid. They were generated somehow, and hopefully could be eliminated.  Bolo communed with nature and was able to determine that there was a portal at the bottom of the large pool. Scorch then did some investigation with Valanthe, and they determined that there was indeed a one-way portal from somewhere that was belching all this acid into the ground. The other smaller pools were where it had seeped up. They weren’t sure how the portal was made – punched through from the other side it seemed. “The other side” was unclear in this case, but Scorch thought it might be some layer of the Abyss. Also the huge drill we found lying near the tree had something to do with it. It was iron and lead, five feet long, with some mithril inlay, and definitely magical.  Scorch thought they could use it to seal the breach, and shifted into a stone giant and picked it up. He still had his acid resistance spell running, and stepped into the pool with the large drill. 

A few moments later he hurriedly hauled himself out, and just in time. The acid was freezing solid. While Scorch got out, the drill bit was frozen inside, as all the acid pools crystallized and hardened. 

This was both good and bad. It neutralized the acid for now, but only in the grove. There was a second portal that was creating the acid pools in the village area. We could find no way to seal that off without the drill bit. The Owl provided the solution to that however, and set several clockworks at chipping away the acid and freeing the bit. Each one was a tiny thing, and removed only slivers, but as a group, their results were most surprising. As they chipped at the acid, they removed the frozen fluid so that it wouldn’t thaw and contaminate the ground again.  Within a few hours they had freed the drill bit, and Scorch sealed the second portal, with the same result – the pools again froze.

Interestingly as the Owl moved about, she was barking orders to Ember. Ember did not strike me as the particularly respectful type but she jumped for the Owl. Apparently the Owl had taken her as an apprentice, and took no lip.

Meanwhile Bolo did what he could for the tree and Ravenna. Ravenna looked terrible – the blight affecting both the local fauna and the trees across the world was taking its toll on her. She walked with a crutch and was very weak.  There was little that could be done for her except make her comfortable and try to determine what was attacking the world tree.

While all this was going on, I contacted the Silvering.  We had been out of touch for too long. After the conversation, I marveled at how he had the uncanny ability to tell you things, and still leave you feeling as if you didn’t know any more than when the conversation started.  

In any case, he answered quickly, and the image formed in my mind of a vast, blasted desert, the very sand turned into glass Lying in the sun was an ancient silver dragon, older than anything I’d seen.  Apparently he didn’t quite feel the need to mask himself as much lately. 

“Ebonclaw is dead. The blacks here are in retreat.”

“Excellent,” he said. Then a bit of concern “Did we loose any of you?” I told him no, we had all survived. This seemed to please him, and in doing so pleased me. He seemed concerned for us, but whereas Lord Gelban seemed to worry out of genuine concern, the Silvering had a different tone – more like worry for a valuable tool. Or perhaps not – who can ponder the minds of dragons.

I brought him up to date on recent events, including chasing Sebastian, the finding of the evocation binder and subsequent release of it. He seemed somewhat saddened by this, but I couldn’t quite understand why. I told him we thought it was the best way to keep it from the hands of our enemies, and he quite agreed, but still I got from him a sense of loss. 

I went on to tell him of our sudden return and what we had found here. What I neglected to mention was any details about our trip to the astral, or Ruun-Khazai. I also made no mention of the Mark of Fire. For now that was something we had decided to keep to ourselves.

I asked him what had been going on in our absence.  He said that the war raged on across the Flaness.  Greyhawk was a neutral area, controlled by the Greyhawk Dragons (which he did not explain) and behind the scenes by the Scarlet Brotherhood. Mitric and Dyvers were safe cities. Also we could take sanctuary in the Lendore Isles. Aethramyr would be most welcome there of course, as one of Sehanine’s champions, even though he has not yet received the call. I would be welcome there as well. If we gave him a few days notice, he could arrange for the humans and the halfling to be safe there as well. 

I was most puzzled by why the break – why did Infernus move, and what did he hope to gain? He told me even the chromatics are not united any more – the reds stand alone, and seem content with that. They must have something up their sleeve to have moved like this. Meanwhile the other chromatics move as they see fit.  The scaled council still exists – others have risen to take the place of those who have left, and the goal is the same: stability in the Flaness. It’s simply a much bigger problem now.

When I inquired about Lord Gelban, he said that Lord Gelban was being held in the Durance Vile on the elemental plane of fire by Infernus. I didn’t inquire what was being done to retrieve him – I would have to assume that all steps were being taken.

I made arrangements with him to see to Ariadne’s safety. Clearly she was not safe here, and it was a matter the dragons should see to personally.

I also asked about the war in Celene. He told me that the County and Duchy of Ulek had joined in the fight, and the horrors had been driven past the borders of Celene. 

We discussed a few other minor matters, but to my surprise he had no immediate requests or missions. This was fine as far as I was concerned – we had more than enough to deal with. So we ended our conversation there.

The rest of the day we spent cleaning up the mess as best we could. Scorch turned his attention to how our teleportation arrival was deflected – he could not determine the exact means but it was the work of some kind of greater planar power. 

Scorch was also showing uncharacteristic concern over Venn.  The mage had been taken away, and was being held in some kind of cage of roots with a dirt floor. The left side of his head had been partially shaved, and a red tattoo or marking put there. It almost looked like a pattern that someone intended to cut into him.  Scorch scried him several times but he was always unconscious, though in different positions.  Scorch believed he was not on this plane but was on some demi-plane somewhere.

I was of little help here, and had worries of my own to attend to. I was somewhat calmed by the Silvering’s words that Celene was well, but my worries were not totally eased. I had hoped to travel to Aran’gel at the front, but Scorch was unable to scry him so that I could teleport via the helm.  So failing that I decided to go to the Queen. However my initial attempt at teleportation failed. 

Before I could ponder this long, the mark on my hand began warming and itching slightly.  After a moment, I heard the Queen’s voice in my head saying “Try again and you will be admitted.”

And I did, and landed properly this time at the family estate.  Mother was well, indeed somewhat more relaxed not having Father underfoot constantly. I quickly flew off to the palace. Below me I could see several legions of troops – apparently Onselven’s recommendations were being heeded. In the air I was challenged several times by hippogriff riders, but was cleared quickly each time.

I landed at the palace and was shown to where the Queen was after being warned she was in the midst of one of the more tiresome fay mysteries. In a large chamber, she was painting on the floor in colored sand. It seemed she had been working with it over-long, and while it once may have been a beautiful stag, she had worked with it took long and it now looked something more like a hedgehog with antlers.  Nonetheless I waited patiently beside Onselven, who said nothing as I arrived. Next to him was the same Swiftrunner of Ehlonna I met before, who nodded as I came in.  She and I exchanged a few words, but still Onselven said nothing, never even turning to notice me.

I looked at him closely, and decided he was sleeping, standing up, with his eyes open.

The Queen continued in the sand for an hour or more. While this was happening, Dravot relayed over the scale the devastation in Hexpools. I had no great love of the city, but no great hate, and to see people living in fear like that saddened my heard.  

I was tempted to say something to the Queen, but as long as no more dragons descended up north, I could wait for my Queen. Finally she stood up and brushed the sand from her dress, either being satisfied with the work or totally disgusted with it.

She walked over and I curtsied low and she greeted me. She apologized that I was turned away initially but once I was identified all was well, and I should have no difficulties in the future. We left the room that we might speak, and as we walked away, she said “Someone wake Onselven please.”

At the sound of his name, he woke with a small start, saying “I’m awake Your Majesty. I have been listening this whole time,” as he hurried after us.  “And where are we going, Your Majesty?”

I could see a smirk as she said over her shoulder “You know….the place we discussed earlier?” She said quietly to me and the Swiftrunner “Now when we get to that corner, run.”

I laughed a little and as we turned the corner, the Queen did indeed break into a full run. I stayed one step behind her, as did the runner. Of course she was hardly making an effort at it.

I was no expert on the Queen’s behavior but this was more levity than I had ever seen, and despite the war something seems to have improved her mood. There was a definite lightness in her step as we entered the throne room and again wound our way down to the binder.

The Queen seemed relieved once in its presence – she said it was the one place she could speak freely and know she would not be overheard. 

I told her about Sebastian, and the binder, much as I had to the Silvering. And as with him, left out mention of the fortress or the Mark of Fire.  Had my Queen asked I would have offered the information, but it didn’t seem necessary for now.  

She told me of the wars here, and that Aran’gel had indeed joined the fighting in the south.  The horrors had only attacked haphazardly of late, and in seeming desperation. They had spread out doing more guerilla fighting, and the main forces had retreated to the same warrens that the orcs had in the Hateful War.  Some advisors were advocating chasing them down and destroying them, while others felt it was a trap.  The Queen was not ready to commit her forces, since Turosh Mac had not shown his hand in this yet and she did not wish to leave Celene vulnerable.  Personally I thought this was the best course – there was much deception in the events unfolding and such a move could be ruinous.

I told her of the dragon’s wars. She was keenly interested in this. She said to me “You are the only source of information I have left among the dragons I can trust. This is most important to me.” I gave her a puzzled look – the implication was that she had sources that she could not trust elsewhere.  Rather than keep this to myself, I asked who these sources were.  She was taken aback by this boldness at first, but then seemed to suddenly remember it was one of her champions. She only said that such things were hers to know, and that should I have need of the information, she would tell me.

One thing she was not aware of was the illness of the trees. I told her the condition was on the whole of the Flaness. This was most disturbing to her. So much so that she bade me do whatever I could to find the source of this attack and eliminate it. If the trees die, so too shall the elves. I told her plainly that I had been concerned that I was neglecting my duties at home of late, but since matters here are well in hand, I shall pursue the matter fully.

With that, we ended our conversation.  I asked if I could be shown Aran’gel’s whereabouts that I might go there, and she gave me a displeased look and waved a hand about talking to some functionaries to be shown on the map.  Either she missed my meaning, which I doubt, or was not inclined to show me that I might teleport there.  While not thrilled, I knew when not to press my luck, and took my leave of her.  As I left, she bade me find Onselven and send him down when I run across him.

The conversations changed as I emerged into the throne room. I was almost growing used to this. I doubt they realize how easily their conversations are overheard.  I heard a number of amusing rumors, including that the Queen had taken me as a lover.  At the far end of the room was Onselven, so finding him was simple enough. 

“Onselven, Her Majesty bade me tell you where she was that you might join her.”

He looked back at me with a tired look and said “Such a shame you were unable to find me, isn’t it?”

I smiled at him, happy to play a long, for a price. “Yes, it is. You see I was hoping to be shown where Aran’gel was that I might go there, and in that effort didn’t run across you.”

“Yes yes girl. Go down that hall, first left, then a right. Talk to the lad in there.”

His directions led me to an apprentice in a room with a scrying pool, who was able to quickly show me Aran’gel. This was something I should learn how to do at some point I thought.   Aran’gel was seated in a camp fletching, talking to a few other men about the proper preparation of food, and the lacking virtues of the cook it seemed. I thanked the apprentice and put on the helm (which drew an appropriately odd look from him) and a moment later appeared in camp.

As soon as I appeared, the bells started ringing, and loudly.  It was a standard protection for elven army camps but seemed louder than I remembered.  Men started running and jumping, grabbing swords, bows, whatever was at hand.

Aran’gel simply continued talking about spices.

The troops were unsure how to proceed. While I was clearly armed, I wasn’t exactly acting menacing. And once they saw I just one well dressed elf lass, and that Aran’gel wasn’t reacting in the least, they slowly went back to whatever they were doing.

When Aran’gel finally finished his dissertation on cooking, he turned over his shoulder to see who popped in. I smiled at him. “Hello. Miss me?”

He just smiled.

We sat, we talked, we ate. I met a lot of the troops. Their reactions ranged from pleasant to respectful to awed. (I suppose had a champion showed up in camp I would have done the same in their position.)  The company commander was a pleasant fellow and despite my lack of any formal rank, would have surely marched off a cliff had I asked.

Aran’gel and I got caught up. I made sure he hadn’t been turned into a statue lately. He could only shake his head. His view of matters in the war matched what I’d been told so far. I cautioned him strongly to be wary – to pursue the horrors was surely to play into their hands.

After several hours, long conversations, and two meals, I returned to the Land of Black Ice. Just in time too.

A large dust cloud was moving in from the east.  Only one thing makes that kind of cloud – an army.  Scorch scried in and saw an army of thousands of blue bugbears marching this way. It seemed like the entire nation with different tribal banners. At their head was what Scorch though was a female, wearing a skull and with only one eye, and beside her a huge blue bugbear wielding an axe made from some part of one of those ice wurms.

We didn’t know why they were coming, but in those numbers it was surely not good. There were some 8,000 bugbears, compared to a few hundred villagers.

And us.

We prepared spells and moved out to a narrow pass to meet them. The terrain was at least somewhat favorable in that we couldn’t be swarmed from all sides. I wasn’t sure about our odds against 8,000 bugbears, but the ones in the village were fairly hardy beasts. If they were elite troops, then we might have a chance. If they were all like that, it would be very ugly.

Due to our superior mobility, we reached the pass and waited for them.  In time they came, like a rolling sea of blue fur.  The shaman and large one were in the lead, and with them was one more. This bugbear was being lead on a rope around his neck. He had been completely shaved. It was hard to tell without the fur, but this might have been the one we questioned.

They arrived, and stopped.  They called out something – again the language problem.  Scorch cast Tongues on Aethramyr. This caused some wariness among the bugbears but the shaman held up her hand.  Aethramyr stood forward and spoke to them.

The shaman spoke – she asked why we let that bugbear go. Aethramyr said “We are not murderers.” I remembered just how close I was to killing that bugbear, but saying so would have been unwise.  

She said that these lands were their people’s once. Then the monsters came. Then the humans came. Then the dragons came. The dragons promised they could have the land back, despite the bones she cast.  She indicated the large bugbear beside her, who towered half again her height, and said “Tavokk speaks for the tribes. He wants war. He does not realize the ruin it will bring. However, if fight him and win, he will relent.”

At that, Tavokk took out his massive weapon and dropped it to the ground. He then removed his breastplate and vambraces, and every other thing on him until he stood a massive mound of blue fur and muscle. 

We conversed quickly among ourselves. I said “If you fight him, and win, we don’t have to fight 8,000 bugbears. If you loose, we have to fight 8,000 bugbears. On the other hand, if you don’t fight him, we have to fight 8,000 bugbears anyway. May as well fight him.”  Aethramyr was willing, and removed his armor and weapons and stepped out to meet Tavokk.

Tavokk was huge, and twice as tall, and three times the weight of Aethramyr. A huge ogre of a bugbear against the wisp of an elf. Tavokk threw his fists back and roared in a blind rage and came at Aethramyr.

Tavokk’s fist hit Aethramyr’s jaw, but the elf was made of stern stuff. He stepped in and landed four solid punches to Tavokk’s midsection, and the rush of escaping breath was echoed by the bugbears watching. Still he held his feet, and swung another blue fist at the paladin.  Aethramyr shrugged this off too, and after his first punch doubled the bugbear over, followed with a left, a right, and an uppercut. The bugbear rocked on his feet and fell backwards.

The bugbears roared in disbelief. Of course only a few hundred could actually see this, and there was a lot of shouting as word passed through the tribes.

The old shaman only shook her head, the bones having told her the outcome this morning.

[OOC: This started off looking like it was going to be an intense battle. Fist fight – subdual damage, between Aethramyr and this massive, unknown bugbear. 

The bugbear it seems had a few levels of barbarian and raged at the start of the fight. But he was still a bugbear. He had one attack. Aethramyr has four. Aethramyr has a big strength, and power attack. The first round, the bugbear did 5 points of damage. Aethramyr did 52. A collective “Oooooofff” came from the table. The fight was pretty short.]

The shaman spoke as bugbears propped up their war leader. “You have won. We will go.”

Aethramyr spoke up “These lands are large, and there is much you and the villagers could do for each other. You could live in these lands together in peace. Speak with them, and perhaps an arrangement can be made.”

She nodded at this “There are goods that we can offer each other.”

And thus it was done. We retrieved the Owl who spoke for the village, and they began to work out a suitable arrangement.  

We spent the next week in various spots. At time helping in the Land of Black Ice, at others working or resting at Ruun-Khazai.  Dravot and Scorch were working on creating various items. Dravot gifted me with a lovely underdress that was enchanted to turn aside arrows. It was a minor spell but a very helpful one nonetheless and I was most grateful.

Scorch worked out the details the Magnificent Mansion, and took no end of joy in it. It certainly will make travel more comfortable.

We also made a few return trips to Sigil. Either we were more lucky, or are becoming wise to its ways, because we suffered no ill incidents. We picked up the items we had ordered, and did a few other transactions besides. I concluded that while the bow we had “acquired” from Fuvex-vex-vex was interesting, it was somewhat impractical. I have worked out a spell to enchant elemental damage on my weapon, and therefore wanted a bow that was highly enchanted but without any unneeded extras.  A little pleasant shopping brought me to a merchant with an excellent selection. I have a new bow, made from the fallen branch of a tree on Olympus, and inlaid with mithril, and enchanted to the highest levels. I’m quite pleased.

Now if I only knew where to find the world tree.  Perhaps Venn is the key.


----------



## Valanthe the Sleepless

*I know, I know...*

Yes, it's way over due, but here are some of the pictures from the battle with Ebon Claw the black dragon. I'll put some commentary below each one.

Wizardru made these ahead of time so we got some really nice colored maps. He didn't unveil them until we arrived on the scene.

This first batch below is the arrival in the one village in the land of black ice.

#1







Okay, this is what we first see, before Wizardru starts to place the minis. Yellow rectangles are the tops of the houses. The 2-tone green blobs through out the village are acid pits that kind of bubbled up out of the ground. We came in from the left side of the picture.

#2






After Wizardru layed out the scenario before us. Circled on the left is Blind Jack, the Umberhulk Monk (yes you read that right) and the other circle is Lord Carrion, a big old flesh golem.

#3






Just a better ground view.

#4






Okay this is part way into it. We are circled in blue. Kayleigh and Scorch are airborn, Aethrymere, Dravot, and Valanthe are in the main ground mele, Bolo is off camera to the left sucking up bug bears with a twister. Blind Jack has been smacked down, and we are facing Lord Carrion (red circle). Red Bone , the Wight Assasin, has been detected (purple hash lines) but it's still uncertail her exact location. 

#5






Just a closer shot. Purple arrows are pointing at our locations. Oh and Dravot finally took care of Redbone.

Okay that's the first half of the battle. Next post will be the showdown with Ebon Claw. Hopefully I'll post that by Tuesday night.


----------



## WizarDru

*Re: I know, I know...*



			
				Valanthe the Sleepless said:
			
		

> *Wizardru made these ahead of time so we got some really nice colored maps. He didn't unveil them until we arrived on the scene.
> 
> This first batch below is the arrival in the one village in the land of black ice.
> 
> #1
> 
> IMAGE REMOVED FOR BANDWIDTH AND SANITY'S SAKE
> 
> Okay, this is what we first see, before Wizardru starts to place the minis. Yellow rectangles are the tops of the houses. The 2-tone green blobs through out the village are acid pits that kind of bubbled up out of the ground. We came in from the left side of the picture.*




Normally, Scorch or one of the others assembles the card table that extends our gaming table prior to the start of the game, and then pulls out the rather large table containing our battlemap.  On this particular evening, I put Scorch off twice, and on the third time just said, "Don't worry about the map.  When we need it...I'll get it."

Scorch just stared at me with his patented 'Mr. Burns' look, and said "Oh. Aaaahhh. I see.  Preparation."  One could almost see the cogs turning in his head.  A pre-made battlefield meant a planned-out encounter, with the enemies prepared to take advantage of the terrain.

I even went to the trouble of making the map several pages beneath the first blank page, in case someone got to the book before I could warn them away. 

Of course, they never expected a SECOND map. 

The party had been looking for some payback on Redbone in particular, so they were ecstatic to have reduced to her so much ash.  And this was intended as nothing more than a prelude to the main event.  It was also there to reinforce the power of the PCs, and to show them how far they'd come.  All of the blue bugbears were advanced with something like 7 levels of warrior, I think, and the gang sliced through them like a hot knife through butter.

It also puts Ebonclaw in his proper perspective, when he arrives (and Scorch had the perfect miniature for him...although at that scale, they stop deserving the name 'miniature').

You should see those pictures soon enough.  I'm still not sure that I play dragons to the best of their abilities, but Ebonclaw, like Nightscale before him, was powerful enough to make the party sweat for a while, without resorting to save-or-die abilities (although two rounds in melee with Ebonclaw *WOULD* equal save or die....minus the save.


----------



## Zad

*The Green and the Black Chapter 1*

*The Green and The Black*

*Chapter 1*

*OOC Notes:*
Experience this session is 1500

Loot was:
Helm of underwater action
+3 shield (large metal)
Ring of mind shielding
Wand of Magic Missiles 5th level caster
Coin and gems worth 21,000gp

*This Week’s Adventure:*

Dravot returned from a scouting trip around Rauxes with some interesting information. Apparently Kargoth and Chavram had a falling out. Chavram and his gnoll army are heading for the Shield Lands and Iuz, while Kargoth’s whereabouts are unknown. It is unknown if Kargoth is in control of Rauxes, or if Chavram is simply on his errand and will return. In either case it might be an opportune time to attack Rauxes while Chavram is away. 

All kinds of evils roam the area, and a sickly fog is turning people into undead horrors. 

Most of this information came to him by way of Bellamy. Bellamy is unfortunately now deceased. Dravot spoke with his ghost, who still lingers.

Despite this, we felt it was not the time to go to Rauxes. Bolo felt our first task must be to help the World Tree, and my Queen felt likewise. Of course we still had no idea how to reach the demi-plane where the tree was, but Bolo felt we should return to the Land of Black Ice and that the tree there may provide a link.

In hindsight it made perfect sense. We didn’t have to figure out how to reach the World Tree – someone already did that. We just had to figure out how to follow them.

Bolo, Scorch and Valanthe set themselves to the task. The drill was somehow used to create a portal and the Owl had freed it from the frozen acid. I tried to follow the discussion but my magical education proved inadequate and they quickly lost me. But after some hours, they had worked something out and believed they could open a portal to the demi-plane where the Tree resided.

We gathered ourselves and cast our spells and triggered the portal.

On the other side was a thin carpet of lush grass in an artificial clearing. It was as if something hollowed out a large bowl in the middle of heavy undergrowth.  The portal appeared in the cut end of a root from which we emerged.  The root reached into a huge wall of moist earth behind us, which also rose overhead and formed the ceiling.

A quick examination of the area showed patches of dried blood on the grass, indicating some violence in the area.  The blood was human or humanoid, according to Bolo, and some of them had died here, but there was no sign of any bodies.  

Three tunnels left the area, twisting off out of sight. Lacking any idea which way to proceed, we took the left tunnel. It twisted and turned over 300 feet, generally heading upward, and opening to a clearing. It was not exactly open to the sky – twisting roots formed a thick canopy overhead, letting in little light.  Valanthe scouting ahead felt the taste of something evil ahead.

As the clearing came into my view, I gasped in horror, seeing the massive mooncalf waiting in the clearing, cloaked in invisibility.  The mooncalf saw my reaction and moved to attack quickly, its ambush ruined. In the future I must remember to be more subtle.

[Ok that’s not really what happened. What really happened was we sensed some kind of nearby presence but couldn’t really understand it. Now remember we haven’t played in several weeks so we were all a bit rusty. I suddenly remembered I now had permanent See Invisible, and asked “Is there anything invisible in the clearing? Because I have that permanency on see invis now.” And Wizardru said “Oh yeah. That’s right. Well yeah, there’s a big friggin mooncalf there.” And I went “eeep” and failed a bluff check to conceal my reaction, and we went from there.]

The mooncalf was much larger than the one at Nightfang Spire. It had some kind of sickly pulsing whitish flesh growing on it, and inside there was an eye moving about through the channels of flesh. 

We moved quickly to avoid its long tentacles. Valanthe moved aside while I glittered the mooncalf to take away its stealth. The beast hovered into the air and crept closer to reach us in the tunnel. Scorch intoned the familiar and welcome mass haste. The mooncalf shot some tentacles down the hall, lashing at Aethramyr and me. It was hovering just out of reach. I countered by firing a few rounds and backing off. 

Dravot took advantage of the terrain, and put a blade barrier into the air above the tunnel entrance. The mooncalf would have to descend to avoid the flashing blades, which would bring it into our reach, or it would have to continue to be torn apart. An excellent move.

Valanthe had crept up the walls and leapt to attack the mooncalf. Unfortunately she missed her step, and landed lower on the mooncalf than she had wanted, which took her through the blade barrier. She managed to twist away from the blades though and made her strike and then jumped to the ground.

Scorch was getting revved up. The beast was resistant to some elements – that much we knew from my arrows – so Scorch tried a few different things, throwing a cone of cold followed by a lightning bolt.  The mooncalf resisted slightly but still felt the brunt of those spells.

The mooncalf chose to remain within the blades, though why I cannot say. It lashed two massive arms out at Aethramyr and grabbed him and began to squeeze. You could hear the cracking of his ribs in the beast’s grip. I fired more shots into the fleshy arms, and the whirling blades continued to tear large chunks out of it. Scorch let off one more cone of cold and the calf lurched and crashed to the ground.

The disturbing eye that was visible inside the pale fleshy growth was turned around and inert but I still made sure to put an arrow through it to be sure.

We now could look around the scene more closely.  Robes were scattered about, covered in blood.  Some large animals – not the mooncalf – had ripped them apart. 

There was one passage out, and we moved down it more cautiously.  It twisted and turned, and came to another clearing.  There were many corpses around, mostly in druidic robes. They were dead one or two days ago, and it seemed the internal organs were harvested and removed. They were all . . . modified. One had a fleshy growth on his face somewhat like the mooncalf giving him another eye. Another had an arm replaced with a crab claw, and a third had something indescribable on his chest.  They were definitely druids of Vecna but this again raises the question of why the main temple of Vecna didn’t know about this.

Bolo began to believe that these passages were formed by magic, and not purely druidic magic either.

In the middle of the area is an eight foot high root that ended here.  Driven into the root was a spike engulfed in black flame. Certainly something that didn’t belong here.

We manage to remove the spike after some effort. The energies of Pelor had some impact, and Valanthe was able to do something with it also, and we managed to ultimately use a rope to yank it free. The wound remained however, and Bolo was unable to effect any healing or repair. Not being able to do much else, we moved on.

In the next clearing we could see two enormous wolves, pacing angrily. They were not undead but did have the taint of evil, though not over their entire bodies. Both were badly wounded and one had a black shadowy hole in him, akin to the messenger who was touched by the Theopart.

These wolves had been attacked, but survived. But would they now attack us?


----------



## dravot

*Scouting Rauxes*

Dravot’s Journal - Scouting Rauxes

Thorkeld was waiting for me at the country estate, with full travel kit, including a horse for me.  I smiled and apologized for the misunderstanding.  We were not going by horseback today.  I handed him a white, hooded robe and after he put it on, I teleported us to the outskirts of Rel Devyn, the closest location I had familiar knowledge of  near to Rauxes.  The road into town was deserted, and eerily quiet.  I was curious to check out town but we had no time, and I didn’t want to alert anyone to my presence.  This area of the world was becoming rather dangerous for me to show my face.

We shifted into windwalk form and struck out due east.  It was my plan to head straight east until I hit the main river from Rauxes and then head north toward it; at least I knew that much of the terrain.

After 4 hours we reached the river.  We came into a clearing beside the river, the remains of a bridge spanning the river.  Refugees were moving across the remnants at all haste.  Looking across the river, we saw a large yellow, sickly fog cloud moving toward them.  In front of the fog were slow moving humans – instinctively I realized that they were zombies.  We moved across the river with due haste and shifted back to material form, assessing the situation all the while.  It was frustrating to be unable to react while in windwalk form; I was impatient to act.  The fog engulfed another man at that time.  He fell, coughing and screaming, shuddered for a minute and stood up, obviously now a zombie.  I then noticed that they weren’t normal zombies, but had thorns protruding from their skin.  Panic continued to grow as people jumped into the river, or knocked others into the water as they scrambled for the far bank.

A young man was bravely standing on the shore, helping the refugees, trying to keep them moving calmly and quickly across the river.  He had on vestments of Pelor, and looked vaguely familiar to me, although I couldn’t place where I had met him…most likely in Hexpools when I was a novitiate.  I told him that I was a friend and set about dealing with the situation.

The fog was actually 2 individual clouds, not one.  They radiated undead, but in a diffuse, spread out manner.  It was quite odd.  A simple turning killed off one and then the other.  The zombies were of low level and crumbled into dust before the might of Pelor.

That done, I turned to my fellow cleric.  “Excuse me, my good lord.  Your face is familiar, but I confess that I don’t recall your name.  Have we met before?”  He was about my age, clean shaven, with a full, thick head of blonde hair.

He smiled at me.  “’My lord’?  Since when have you been so formal with me, Dravot?”

At that point I realized that he was undead as well, but not any type I had encountered previously.  Thorkeld saw my confusion and whispered to me “He’s not evil, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

I grew weak in the knees as I realized who he was.  “Bellamy?”  He nodded and smiled again.  “But…how?  I tried to contact you via sending?  You’re young again?  I went to Hexpools to find you…the destruction is awful.  I have nightmares about it still.  What happened?”

He responded.  “I was in Hexpools when they attacked.  I lead the defenses, but we were completely overwhelmed by their numbers.  I died that day, but Pelor has sent me back in this form to continue my work.  I would have found you, but I can only get so far from Hexpools and you were too far away.”

I offered to resurrect him, but he declined.  “If I were resurrected, I would be in my old, weak body.  Now I have extra abilities at my disposal, and can do more, although my spells are somewhat limited.”

At this point we tended to the wounded and helped them across the river, and continued to talk.  He knew that Kargoth and Chavram had a falling out, but didn’t know what it was about.  Chavram was headed north from Rauxes with his gnoll army, toward the Shieldlands.   Bellamy was fairly sure that my grandfather wasn’t ready for Apotheosis, so his intentions were a mystery to us still.  I told him of our release of the binder, and our search for the world tree, and other bits of news.
Shortly the refugees were all across the river and we had to depart.  Bellamy assured me that he could probably contact me via sending (provided that Pelor granted him the spell), but I couldn’t send back to him.

We headed north along the river to Rauxes.  The area surrounding the city was pure devastation.  Hexpools was a charming hamlet compared to what we saw.  Plants were corrupted or dead or both.  No human built item stood more than 2 feet above the ground.  I sensed undead and was nearly overwhelmed by the presence of it; underneath me, waiting, and ahead in Rauxes as well.

The city was encased in what I can only describe as a black sphere or bubble, darker than night.  From time to time we could catch a brief glimpse of the city burning.  I contacted Scorch to scry me and learn the area.  This would be our landing zone when the time came to deal with Rauxes.  Afterward we scouted around a bit more, discovering green acid fogs hanging low over the horizon, and more blight all around.

When we felt that we had learned all we could, we teleported back to Brindinford, and I then headed back to my friends.  When I left Thorkeld I told him that when this was all over, he and my sister were going to have a proper wedding, and I left before he could respond.


----------



## WizarDru

Best moment of Saturday's game, for me:

Zad is acting as going down the list of loot, verifying who took what item, and what will be sold with Fuvex-vex-vex when it's convienent (acting as party accountant ).  I'm in the kitchen, getting coffee, with Scorch and Dravot standing nearby.


*Zad:* _"Pale Blue Ioun Stone, who wanted it?"_
*Valanthe:* _"Not me, I'm good."_
*Scorch:* _"Didn't Aethramyr want that?"_
*Aethramyr*: _"Who to the what, now?"_
*Zad:* _"Pale Blue Ioun Stone.  It's yours."_
*Aethramyr*: _[flips through DMG] "Okeydokey."_
*Zad:* _"Meager ring of Protection +2?  Not much at our level, anyone still need one?"_

*[mutual assent to sell item through Fuvex-vex-vex at earlier convience...assorted discussion occurs]*

*Zad:* _"Stone of Good Luck?"_
*DM(me, joking):*  "Me!  I'll take that."

To which Scorch scrunches up his face, affects his most curmudgeonly 'scorch' voice, wags his finger at me and cries:

*"NO!  None for YOU!  From you, WE ONLY TAKE!"*

Ahhh, it's good to be appreciated.


----------



## Zad

*The Green and the Black Chapter 2*

Oh yeah that helm. It's uber. Oh yeah. Uh huh. (As Kayleigh tosses it in the "sell" pile.)

*Chapter 2*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience is 1175 this week. Look for much nastiness next time.

*Loot:*

Clearing out some old loot matters gave us the following: 

Three scrolls of stoneskin: Scorch, Valanthe, Kayleigh
Two potions of heroism: keeping
Stone of good luck: Bolo
Ioun stone +2 cha: Aethramyr

New Loot:
String of pearls, 4000gp
Anklet, 7000gp
Assorted coin, summarized, 23,500gp.
Total: 34,500gp.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

Bolo cautiously tried to approach the two wolves. Both were very agitated and likely not in their normal minds. However as he crept closer, one of the wolves saw him as a threat and turned to pounce on him. It bounded forward in a massive leap and we scrambled to save Bolo from becoming yet another digestive distraction.

Over the link, Scorch asked Bolo if we need to keep one alive, and he said “Yes”. Turns out later that there was a bit of a miscommunication here – Bolo wanted both alive, but Scorch and I at the least heard “Keep one alive” and that meant obvious implications for the other one.

I fired several arrows into the wolf closing on Bolo but then Scorch negated it with a Hold Monster.  The battle then shifted quickly to us and the other wolf. The wolf snapped at Bolo a few times as Aethramyr tried to hold it off and distract it.

Valanthe had crept up to look at the wolf and tried to analyze the tear in the reality that was blighting it.  Meanwhile on an impluse, Dravot channeled positive energy at the shadowy mass, and it receded and  disappeared somewhat. Another burst caused it to disappear entirely.

The wolf however was too frenzied to be grateful, but now we knew it could be cured and as such we changed our tack. Bolo succeeded in charming the beast, but now it was friendly only to him, and proceeded to attack Aethramyr. I was hasted thanks to Scorch’s earlier mass haste, and so I used a spell to change my arrows to bludgeon rather than pierce. With these I could attempt to subdue the wolf, and after several sharp strikes the wolf fell over unconscious.  

Dravot went to the held wolf, and repeated the same procedure. Like the other, he was able to completely remove the shadowy affliction. However since we still didn’t think we could reason with them, we made sure to withdraw before the hold monster wore off. We hoped the wolves would be eased by us finding and removing the greater problem here.

We then found another problem. Where Bolo had been bitten there was a certain taint, as if the scarring was overly much and the flesh blackened. It would likely have some kind of effect on him, and very soon, if we didn’t fix it. Dravot thought a remove curse might remove it, or perhaps a laying of hands. Unfortunately Aethramyr had used much of his power earlier but did all he could. Dravot and Scorch managed to remove the taint with remove curse after that.

While they examined the wolves and what not, Valanthe and I scouted around the clearing. The edges of it were blighted – some growth was dead while the rest was a sickly white and clearly dying. It was as if someone went around the edge killing the vegetation. In some areas it barely touched the edge of the clearing while in others went some feet back. Looking over it all, it seemed that someone had used some kind of cone effect over and over but what that was, I couldn’t guess.

We moved on, trying to find more of the source of the problems. One passage led sharply upward and we took that one.  As we moved through this tunnel, we heard the sound of the wind rustling through the trees. Valanthe and I looked at each other, both realizing that this wasn’t the wind – the sound was wrong. But it was some kind of movement through the undergrowth going so fast that it just sounded like wind.  The sound came up behind us, and then moved past us, going parallel to the corridor, then stopped ahead. As we got closer, the sound stopped, and left an ominous silence behind.

We stopped in the corridor unsure of what to make of this. But we didn’t want to go back to the wolves, so we simply shrugged and moved up. As we moved, the buzzing rose to a crescendo and thousands of spiders erupted from the walls, floor and ceiling.  

We briefly debated a cloudkill but decided to just try and outdistance it.  We moved forward as best we could – I think Aethramyr lingered long enough to try a dispel magic but it had no noticeable effect. We suddenly broke into a massive clearing. 

We seemed to be on the ground level now of a massive, canopied forest. The world ash rose up ahead dominating the entire scene. It’s massive roots reached out so large as to form rolling hills in the area.  

Pinned to the tree was the Green Man. His legs and one arm were pinned to the tree by black beams of energy that came from the floor at random angles while the last arm hung limp at his side, with a black mark where it had likely been similarly pinned to the tree. 

Around the tree roamed three massive spiders, guarding the area.

But the smaller vermin were wasting no time behind us and erupted out of the tunnel. Instead of biting those they could reach, they rushed past us, and in a blur came together on the side of a root so big it was more of a hill. 

They skittered and scuttled. And soon they became words.

_You should not have come._

The spiders froze that way for a few moments, then moved again.

_You cannot win._

…

_Faithful to the Green, will make you die._

…

_I will see you blighted like the rest._

The spiders seemed to be loosing their cohesive qualities, and began wandering off. The few that remained with their purpose began gnawing in the root and after a moment skittered away. Into the root they had chewed a name

Tan the Clearcut

The large spiders had not taken notice of us yet, but perhaps were alerted by Tan or someone else, and squealed and charged. We laid down some protective spells and fired a few long range attacks. Then Bolo shifted to a cheetah and sprinted off towards the Green Man. This seemed a bit odd as he was now effectively cut off from the rest of us. I opened fire at an approaching spider as more buffs were cast. Then Scorch got a hold monster on a second spider, taking it out of the fight.  Bolo’s bold move seemed even odder when the roots near the tree began to thrash about, and three root horrors emerged from below the ground. They seemed somewhat like root horrors but were clearly some kind of new mutation of that twisted breed.

The injured spider moved up and snapped at Aethrmyr. Bolo decided something larger was called for and shifted form to an elephant.  Scorch tossed in a fireball to help support Bolo – the horror shrugged off some but not all of it. One of the horrors jumped up and as it landed, tunneled into the ground and began moving under the root structure towards us.  

I put several more arrows into the injured spider and then decided to try something new and fired a hail of arrows, putting a solid shot into every creature before us. It was a rather satisfying thing to do.

One of the other root horrors dove under the surface and then rose out to snap at Bolo’s now massive leg. Meanwhile Dravot had moved himself into just the right spot, and uttered a Holy Word. A shaft of sunlight came down on each of the spiders near him, and they were dismissed from this demi-plane.

Aethrmayr hopped onto the carpet behind Valanthe. (This carpet is fast becoming a favorite in the group.) Valanthe took the carpet forward to meet the root horrors, as Bolo stomped them with massive grey feet. 

The submerged horror then surfaced and bit at Dravot but had little effect. I started firing arrows into it, since now Bolo had some help on the way. And Aethramyr leapt from the carpet and brought Shatterspike down in a vicious arc, smashing one root horror into a half dozen pieces.

[OOC: He did four attacks, three were criticals. Totaled, it was 125 points. Ow.]

Dravot didn’t much care for the attentions of the root horror, and teleported up to the Green Man and cast Heal. His limp arm seemed somewhat strengthened by this and the Green Man became vaguely conscious. 

Valanthe moved behind a root horror and promptly rendered it into individual rootlets. This left only one horror left, and it didn’t survive long enough to pose much of a menace.

We moved to further examine the plight of the Green Man. The intense shadowy beams were coming through the ground at different angles. There was even a hole where there must have been one pinning his arm – this was heading in the general direction of the chamber where we had removed the spike. There must be three other spikes in other chambers holding him here.

As we discussed this, Valanthe caught sight of an orc watching us from the shadows of the nearby growth. As soon as it saw her looking at him, it melded into the growth and retreated, and we were unable to follow.

Bolo spoke to the World Tree, trying to find the orc. The tree was very slow to respond, as if the thoughts took time to move through the massive ash. The Tree said that Tan was below with her undead, and also in another area the orcish druid was guarding one of the spikes.  As Bolo’s spell ran out, the Tree created symbols with the roots. Valanthe was able to decipher some of it, but not all.

I tried to speak to the Green Man but he was not responsive and still distressed. I spoke to him gently in Sylvan and told him we would help him, and did my best to ease him. His free hand seemed to now be clutching the World Ash, but for what reason I couldn’t say.

Valanthe found several sacks spun of spider silk. It seemed the spiders were perhaps bribed for their services, as we found a great deal of coin and gemstones inside the sacks.

It was time to find the source of this problem and put an end to it. There were eight tunnels from this area heading back into the root structures below. As we debated which direction to head, the beam of shadow that had been missing from the Green Man’s arm faintly started to return. We thought that perhaps someone was attempting to reset that spike and moved quickly to that area. 

We found the clearing still empty. However where before we left the spike suspended in mid air from a rope, now the rope was broken and the spike had started to re-insert itself into the ground.  These spikes, Scorch believed, were not alone, but had some kind of power source.  Until that source was neutralized, the spikes would continue to be a problem.

Bolo said that he could perhaps find out where our enemies were. He sat upon the ground for some minutes, communing with nature. He tried to find an unnatural power in the area, and was shown a vision of a man lying in a cage of roots with a flimsy lock. The man was wearing only a shirt and breeches, and the scene exactly matched what Scorch had seen when scrying Venn.  As Venn rolled over in his fitful semi-conscious state, Bolo could see a gaping black maw carved into his chest and a shape carved into him. Scorch believes this is the actual Theopart itself, and that Venn is somehow powering these spikes against his will. Bolo’s description of the scene was wretched and I could only wonder what poor Venn had done to deserve this.  

When sensing for undead, Bolo saw a clearing with five dire bears. They had huge chunks of their flesh missing, and their internal organs were not all present. One was larger than the others, and the form blurred to a human woman dressed in rags. This must be Tan. Her eyesockets were nothing more than glowing red energy. 

Bolo turned his mind to the orc druid. I had to wonder if this was one that we had encountered before, perhaps the one who laid the ambush at the Stonetooth. Bolo saw him in another clearing, dominated by a huge root descending into the ground, but it had been cut through and the black spike inserted into the exposed end.  He was dressed more like a shaman, draped in fetishes and a third eye tattooed above his own. Piles of brown robes were nearby, and several sets of bones, all picked clean. Some of then looked like they had been burned.

Unfortunately we didn’t know how to find any of these people. So we resolved ourselves to continuing our search. Tan the Clearcut would be in for some unpleasantness indeed, and that orcish shaman was owed a return on pain from long ago.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*A Halflings point of view...*

Where do I begin? I feel like I've been in a dream. My friends Scorch and Val helped me to open a Portal to the World Tree. (I wonder if this could be made permenant?). We go to the demi-plane that is "Prospero's Grove" and I'm in Heaven and Hell all at the same time. A Blighter has been at work here destroying the World Tree. 
We came upon a mated pair of Legendary wolves how had been hurt most dreadfuly. I tried to approach them but I miss-stepped and set the female off. She charged me and we had to fight them. luckily we were able to subdue them and cure thier physical damage... the taint on thier souls is another matter.

I found that the name of the Blighter is Taen the Clearcut. She seems to have been a druid but she died and now is an undead mockery of all she stood for while alive. I wonder if there is a way to save her? Beory only knows. She may not even deserve the thought of redemption but I have to think of her as a person not just an enemy. 
My spells seem to function a bitr differently here. harder to cast them but they are in some ways stronger for the presence of the World Tree. (I still cannot believe I spoke with the mother of all green things.) I'm worried that the extent of the damage they could cause will be irreversible. But I must have faith in the Green.
There is an Orc Hexer here as well. I can only hope that I have the time to rest and regain my spells. I could use gaze screen with that one.


----------



## Zad

*The Green and the Black Chapter 3*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience this session is 5600.

Loot was . . . more extensive than I was expecting. I didn’t think Taen would be packing heavy for her excursion.

17,000gp in assorted coin
3,200gp in assorted gems
+2 longbow (sell)
+3 full plate (sell)
Potion of invisibility with 3 doses (keep)
Ring of force shield (Aethramyr? Market 8.5k)
Rod of splendor (Dravot? This has a +4 charisma bonus, plus some other goofy powers, market 25k)
Belt of giant strength +4 (Aethramyr, other items shuffled)
Pale blue rhomboid ioun stone (+2 strength - Kayleigh? Market 8k)
Cloak of minor displacement


*This Week’s Adventure:*

Knowing at least what we’re facing, we set out in search of the evils lurking in the grove. Valanthe had been keeping a crude map of the areas we had found so we just started heading out in directions we had not yet been, hoping to find Taen. As we moved, Dravot was clearly pondering something, and finally spoke up. “I suspect Taen is a lich.” He took a few moments to detail liches, including the phylactery, which we must destroy to permanently vanquish Taen. More complications. 

The tunnel we had chosen descended slightly and banked The vegetation was slowly changing and we were moving into a more moist, earthen area, seeing actual dirt rather than a mass of roots. The tunnel however was not simply created by a parting of the roots as most had, but was clawed and ripped out.  A light grass was springing up on the floor, and got thicker and taller as we moved farther in.

The grass was above my knees when the tunnel opened into a cavern. Roots hung from and crossed the ceiling fifty feet above and the grass was five feet high within the space. 

Valanthe and I studied the cavern carefully looking for any sign of habitation, both sharing an unspoken feeling that something was here.  She caught a flash of a grey, reptilian wing cresting above the grass for a moment then sinking back down. It was tattered and full of holes and scars. As fast as it appeared, it was gone.

If there was a big dragon here, so be it. But it wasn’t Taen. So we backed out and went another way.  In our roaming we came back to the world tree – there was no sign of the remains of the root horrors or the spider corpse.  The Green Man looked unchanged however, and we headed down another tunnel.

In a nondescript tunnel area, Valanthe became uneasy, sensing something. She looked for a trap but only had the feeling that something was there. A quick detect magic revealed the magical trap, and Valanthe managed to trigger it safely. A series of prismatic beams shot from the ceiling in an all-too-familiar array. We silently moved on.

Fifty feet further, Valanthe saw something else amiss.  Nothing magical this time, this trap was a deadly but simple bit of swinging sharp sticks. Valanthe tripped it and we moved on.

We came to another large chamber and at the opening was a corpse. It wore a brown robe and had an extra arm. We didn’t take much time to examine it, as Valanthe and I spotted someone watchign us from the vegetation at edge of the clearing.  She crept up on it, while pulled into the shadows, and the others moved in.

As we moved past, it was clear the body was dead a week at least, slashed in several areas and once clean across the throat. The extra arm ended in a three-pronged claw.  

The figure in the trees wore a red scarf and loose leathers, and carried two sickles. We at first thought it might be the orc, but it was definitely not orcish.

Aethramyr called out to him, extending a hand.  We weren’t sure this creature was our enemy and needed no extras.  The man was uncertain at first, and then decided to withdraw but Valanthe grabbed his arm before he could leave.  She could see his eyes, which were vaguely cat like, and his skin was redder than it should be. He grabbed a sickle and said “Foul ones, you will not trick me a second time!”

I called out “We are friends of the Green and if you are as well, we have no quarrel with you.” To show some good faith and trust, I asked Valanthe to let him go, and he could judge us for himself.  He was still unconvinced but after much conversation and words from Bolo became willing to at least hear us out. In the end it came to Bolo to convince him we were here to help, and they slipped through the impossibly tight vegetation into another chamber nearby. This was it seems some kind of test. Bolo saw a pile of stones, a cairn really. It was, the man said, his master. Bolo offered to reincarnate his master, and this did much to gain the man’s trust.

In a short time they returned – Bolo, the man – Certimo – and a centaur. A centaur. The centaur was being led and looked somewhat disoriented.  Bolo had a flash of an idea and offered the centaur  his old leather armor, dug out of his portable hole. The centaur took it and began gnawing on it, and Certimo gently took it away and set it aside.

Certimo told us a little about what had happened here but indeed we had already learned much of it. He said that three of the spikes were unguarded. My quick math showed we had found the unguarded one already, one was guarded by Taen and another by the orc – Certimo called him Goshnak. That left a spike that we assumed was unguarded but must be guarded by something we didn’t know about. Certimo said it was guarded by a dragon from the pit, and we all started nodding and saying “Ahh ok. Found that.” The lich summoned it with the aid of the wizard.

The wizard can be found in the area beyond Taen.  She guards him but not closely and he has been able to slip past her from time to time.

Dravot examined the dead druid that Certimo had killed. On the back of his neck was a black patch, similar to the burns that we cured Bolo of.  It was a year old or more. He had a holy symbol of Vecna, but concealed within was a symbol of Therizdun. We kept the symbol as it surely added to the Vecna-Therizdun mystery.

Scorch took out his crystal ball and scried the dragon.  Inside the cavern a circle of grass was smashed flat and burned. A black spike was there. The dragon was greyish purple. Its wings were tattered and it was quite sizable. It had a crazed look in its eyes. Scorch believed it was summoned here from Tarterus.

Certimo also told us of Goshnak. He was once a druid but his new masters have given him fell powers. He struck down his master with the power of his third eye. It did not kill him outright but weakened him and Taen’s servants did the rest.

Certimo also knew the grove and could direct us to the spikes.  We ask him to lead us to Taen which he is more than willing to do. He said that while his skills at stealth are good, he believes ours are better if we wish to slip past Taen. I made it clear that once we found Taen, we would be doing something a tad more violent than “slipping past”.

On the way we had to pass a chamber with several stags. They all had the taint that the wolves had, and we did our best to slip past them. Scorch brought up an invisibility sphere to cloak us but one of them heard Bolo hiccup however and was looking our way.

Given that these were animals, and somewhat maddened at that, I took a risk and threw a ghost sound on the other side of the stag to draw its attention. The sound worked and it started moving that way to investigate, and we moved through without further incident.

As we moved down, the vegetation grew more sickly. The suffuse light that was all over began to darken. The tunnel opened into another large chamber with huge rocks that looked as if they had been dropped from above. The vegetation here was simply dead and the area was a massive compost heap. Three undead dire bears could be seen moving around the area. 

The black spike was in the center, sending a beam of solid shadow up through the ceiling, drawing in all light around it.  

The front of the cave was blocked by a swarm of insects. We weren’t sure if this was damaging or just to serve as a warning but we planned to bypass it in either case, and teleport two groups into the room.

I cast haste and Scorch dimension-door’d myself and Bolo and Certimo into the room. Our landing was disrupted by the shadow beam but not terribly so – we just landed in the wrong spot. Aethramyr teleported in with the rest of the group, and the battle was on.

Our plan was to direct all possible fire at Taen but she was not in sight at the moment. Perhaps she was behind a boulder or just not in the room. I gained some altitude and fired at one of the bears. I was hoping Dravot would be able to turn the two nearby ones so I fired at one farther away.

Valanthe spotted Taen behind a large rock. Scorch opened our attacks on her with a greater dispelling, peeling away much of her protective magic. (Unfortunately not her haste.) Bolo then dropped a flame strike on top of her after shifting into the form of a massive ape.

Taen spat curses and threw two fingers of death at Bolo and Dravot, both of whom overcame the nastier part of the effect.  Dravot tried to turn the bears, bringing forth Pelor’s light but it was insufficient to effect them. That was a bad thing indeed as I was hopeful we could eliminate at least some of them that way.  

Aethramyr moved towards Taen but was cut off by another bear coming from behind a rock.  The bears near him began clawing at Dravot with unrelenting ferocity, while Certimo engaged another bear and they traded blows.

I moved towards Taen and began pumping arrows into her as fast as I could. As I rose to get sight of her, she was in the form of a dire bear, with flesh hanging off and rotting, but standing on two legs. She screamed as several firey arrows landed solidly. But it was nothing compared to the fireball that Scorch threw next.

Taen was hurt but not giving up easily. A keening wail came as her horrid wilting ripped through the area, catching most of us. Bolo particularly was almost overcome by it. She then dispelled my magics (leaving me to fall 20 feet from the air onto a rock) and then ran into the walls.

This was very bad. Given a respite, she could heal, or escape, or who knew what. Bolo was determined to go after her but given his injuries this seemed unwise.  

Dravot, having tried a few times unsuccessfully to turn the bears, changed tacks and readied a sunbeam. He was now facing two bears and they were each clawing at him. He was staggering under the attack, alive but not able to keep that up much longer. Aethramyr, blocked by the bear, tore into it with Shatterspike. Certimo moved to Aethramyr and cast Pass without trace on him, allowing him to follow Taen as well. That could spell the difference between victory and defeat.

One of the bears wheeled around and turned on Scorch. Scorch spent much of his combat time in the shape of a grick these days, and I had hoped the bear would miss something that small. It lashed out with a massive paw and smashed into Scorch, who flew into a rock and slumped to the ground, dead.

I didn’t even have time to be mad. If we didn’t move fast, he wouldn’t be alone.

[OOC: This was looking very ugly for us. We were all anywhere from “significantly injured” to “nearly dead” and the lich had run so some of us would have to chase after her. Meanwhile the fact that the bears were 20 hd meant that even though Dravot was rolling well he couldn’t turn them. And those things dished out a LOT of punishment. And of course loosing Scorch was a big blow, not only to our damage output but to morale as well.]

I re-cast my haste, spun on the bear near Aethramyr, and put in several arrows to kill it. Valanthe danced around another bear, careful to not get caught exposed.  Bolo moved to chase down Taen, with Aethramyr right after him, pausing long enough to heal himself. That elf could take a lot of punishment, but he had taken a lot already, and the move was wise.  

Dravot needed some luck, but could find none. He sanctified the area and tried again to turn the bears but still could not. Meanwhile the bears continued to slash at him and Certimo. Certimo was giving as good as he got, but he too was looking desperate.

[OOC: Note that in this round a bear actually missed an attack. They hit flawlessly to this point, but one of them finally rolled a one.]

I opened fire and after several arrows another bear slumped over. Dravot let off a sunbeam and vaporized another.  Finally the tables were turning – Dravot was no longer being pressed and only one bear remained which we dispatched.

Bolo and Aethramyr were chasing after Taen, who stopped long enough to heal herself. Bolo swung at her and undid some of her healing. She swung back with a wicked death scythe but Bolo ducked out of the arc. But her hatred for Bolo would cost her – it gave Aethramyr time to close in, and with several quick strokes cut her apart, and before she could even crash to the ground, her body turned to dust and scattered.

Aethramyr took a moment to sunder the death scythe and her blighter’s armor, and took the cloak that remained behind and he and Bolo returned.

Dravot and I went over to Scorch’s body, now returned to human form. Before we could even get close however, there was a flashing. The small gem he wore on his neck and so frequently clutched at was glowing and pulsing light. After a moment his body floated into the air and then in one flash, disappeared.

I had barely started thinking about how we would get Scorch resurrected, and it seems he had taken steps for such an event on his own. I suppose I should have expected it from Scorch. Still I didn’t like not knowing where he was, and I would feel a lot better once I saw him alive again.

We collected ourselves and healed our wounds. Afterward we were whole again, except for our missing man. But we were also nearly out of spells.

Bolo had several sunbeams he had held, and emptied them into the black spike, mostly to see what the effect would be. It turned out to work better than any of us could have anticipated – the spike burst apart into fragments, consumed by the bright light. The shadowy beam stopped and there was a virtual explosion of metal.

Not the metal of the spike however. It seemed that this spike was different from the other one we had seen. It had some kind of extra dimensional compartment, and when shattered the contents spilled out everywhere. It was coins. Probably Taen’s money. Scattered around were gems, and a few items besides.

While we were looking at the mess and collecting it, Dravot picked up a bit of paper with some arcane scribblings on it. He looked around and found another, and a third.  He started examining them and looked up.

“Bolo… this was her phylactery. She’s gone for good.”

Bolo could do little more than beam a smile, glad to return some of the pain that the blighter had inflicted.

Once we felt we were healed enough to move, we checked the room towards which Taen was moving. As expected, we found Venn in a weak cell.  The Theerpart was imbedded in his chest and he looked as if it was consuming him. We spared the last bit of healing we had to restore him somewhat but he was still unconscious.  

Suddenly I looked up with an odd feeling. We were being scried. There was no way to tell by whom, but it wasn’t a good sign. After a minute, it stopped, leaving an unsettling emptiness.

We carefully moved him back to Certimo’s chamber, careful not to touch the shadowy parts on him. At that point we received a sending. It was Scorch, who was apparently alive again and in the Academy. He said he could return in the morning and was scrying us now for any reply. It was him scrying us before.

Sure enough the sensor returned, and we told him of Venn quickly and that he should find whatever information he could on removing and/or transporting a Theerpart.

We knew we couldn’t engage the orc or the dragon in our current state, and so we settled in to rest and recover spells. The centaur was getting his bearings and perhaps could help us understand the Theerpart and what to do with it.

To me it was similar to a binder – it was too dangerous to keep, and must be guarded. But unlike a binder, we couldn’t release the djinn to destroy it.  We have heard of one person who dealt with the Theerparts before – Mordenkainen. Perhaps he could deal with it again.

But first things first – we must finish cleansing the grove, and deal with the orc and the dragon. 

Especially the orc.


----------



## WizarDru

Quite honestly, I was suprised at how ugly the battle got.  The chief determining factor was that Dravot got trapped by the bears, and was unable to draw a line of sight on Taen (who had been hidden initially).  

To give you an idea, The Clearcut was a 18th level character, with levels in Druid and Blighter (7/11, I think, sheet isn't in front of me), and a lich to boot.  The bears were Legendary Bear Ghouls, though the party is far too powerful for the paralysis to effect anyone except on a '1', generally speaking.  

Bolo most likely would have died, as well, but for the dice.  When the Clearcut stopped and fought back, she had three attacks available, and Bolo only had a AC 22 and almost no hit points left to speak of.  Any successful attack would have resulted in permanent paralysis, most likely, in addition to the not-insignificant damage from an wildshaped undead dire bear wielding an echanted scythe.  She rolled 21, 15, 21.  Then Aethramyr arrived, and cracked open the Smite can.  Dravot got trapped on the ground, and was hard pressed by the bears.  The group had spent both of Scorch's mass hastes entering into the battle, and while two characters had haste boots, that only goes so far.

Valanthe got nerfed, and lost an action or two somewhere in the shuffle (perils of gaming when we're all drowsy).  While she wouldn't have gotten the clearcut, she most likely would have driven her off sooner, and that horrid wilting really hurt...I mean *REALLY HURT*.  

There was actually an additional trap in there on the way to Sertimo's hideout that val got, althought it as only a Guards and Wards.  The Prismatic Spray would have been good clean fun for everyone.  Or not.  Scorch's invisibility circle saved them resources, and Valanthe's quick location of Taen prevented her from getting her full power-up suite in place.  All in all, it was a rough tactical challenge....hence the reason for the dramatic EL upgrade and the double standard treasure awarded from the phylactery. 

I messed with Scorch, saying he'd be Boccob's page-turning boy in the after-life....then I gave him his after-death experience.  He may end up having preferred the previous.  On the other hand, he'll find some interesting fringe benefits.  Heh.


----------



## Scorch

An excerpt from Scorch's Journal:

Died today.  Would have lived if that tiefling we had picked up had not changed position to throw that spell on the paladin.  Well, if he hadn't then the lich may have been able to regroup and come  back to kill everyone else.  Dodged a Finger of Death and a Horrid Wilting only to be mauled by a bear.  Feh.

Saw my body shunted through the Onyx House's astral network and dropped into a vat of acid where it was promptly destroyed.  Fortunately my items where not on it.  Woke up in a cloned body sealed into a glass vat somewhere back in the Grey Guild on the Prime.

Profion was smiling (gloating?  Can never tell with him) outside and he let me out to explain how things stood.

1) I was the new head of the Onyx House.  My predecessor appointed me before his untimely ending.  An ending much like that which befell the two before him.  It seems that leaders of the four houses of the Grey Guild have been changing quite a bit since the dragons started tearing up Greyhawk.  A stable peace has been established now that the GreyHawk dragons have come in and kicked out the two opposing factions.

2) As head of the house I now have access to some nice benefits.  One of which I just experienced...  Well a good wizard always has a backup plan and now I have two...

3) I am to meet with the leaders of the other three houses soon, perhaps after we finished up this business with the trees.

After bullying Profion into giving me my possessions back I took stock of who I could trust.  After I realized what line of business I was in and the general dispostion of others in that line I then took stock of who would at least follow my orders without trying to backstab me or forgetting about them a few hours later.  Profion will follow my lead if I look what I know what I am doing.  He may chew the scenery everytime he enters a room and has pretentions towards villainry but most of his efforts seem to blow up comically in his face (I will have to recount the time he tried to make that rod to control red dragons and accidentally set the Greyhawk River on fire... oh, I guess I just did).  That, and he still owes me a cup of mugwort.  Dirgah, the giant sorcerer, will go along with me as well thought I cannot make out what he is saying half the time with that accent of his.

While drifting, bodiless, through the Onyx Network I came across several incites into magic that will allow me to finish off my most recent research project.  I will now be able to access magic of the highest known circle.  I will need a night to recuperate but tomorrow I believe I can shift right to Prosepero's Grove without need of that kludged together gate and rejoin my comrades.

Then we can finish off this business with all the trees in the world dying and I can get on with some real work.

Scorch


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*A Halfling's point of view*

Blessed Ehlonna!
This was a wonderful day! (barring the loss of Scorch.)
We met up with a Ranger/Druid named Certimo. He is a tiefling. He had lost his mentor to the Orc Hexer. I realised that the best way to gain his confidance was to reincarnate his mentor. I cast the spell and waited as the new forn took shape. I was expecting a badger.... My bad. The mentor turns out to be a centaur in his new life. His name is Ashbridge, he is a druid/mage.
We faced Taen after this, along with Certimo's aid and the (in my own opinion) combination of my ape form and the sences of a bat (from the Embrace the Wild spell). Very little was going to get past me. Taen and her unholy beasts were a difficult fight but we won. I was sure I was going to meet the Goddess again when I ran off after her but I could not let her get away nor harm the tree more. I had cast Sunbeam and expected to use it on her at the first chance but I charged in on her and could only swipe at her. she swung the blade or hers 3 times and only by the luck of my stone did she miss. than like an avenging angel Aethramyr  cut her down.
We returned to the blighted area and I decided to see what the sunbeams would do to the black light. Nothing but when I set them into the spike itself I got this rush and just kept pumping the beams into it. Than there was a sound like breaking glass and treasure spilled out from the hole where the spike was. Dravot said I had destroyed the Liches jewel and that I had totaly destroyed her. I sat there while the rest picked though the treasure and prayed to Ehlonna and gave thanks.


----------



## Zad

*The Green and the Black Chapter 4*

*The Green and the Black - Chapter 4*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience this session is 4,616. Levels for most of the party.

*Loot*

Jewelry totaling 13,000gp
Cash totaling 26,000gp
Gems totaling 10,000gp
+3 leather armor with ghost touch and lightning resistance
Rod of enemy detection (keeping this)
Scroll of wall of ice, level 6 (Scorch)
Wand of charm person, 12 charges
Cape of the mountebank (Aethramyr)

This of course does not account for the loot that Mister-back-from-the-dead destroyed with when he opened up the firey pits of hell.

Close out of books for the Green and the Black yields a share of 50,000 gp per player. (So close that the difference hardly matters.)

We will have some downtime to spend the money.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

We withdrew to the comparative safety of Certimo’s chambers and recovered. Even though we had already heard from Scorch and he was clearly therefore alive, I was still disturbed by his death. Indeed the mood was quiet in Prospero’s grove that night. We slept a fitful night and prepared for the next day’s battles.

Sure enough, in the morning we heard from Scorch over the scale. He had arrived in the chamber we first appeared in, and we quickly brought him to our location. Almost in celebration, Dravot cast a spell and brought forth a Hero’s Feast and we enjoyed a hearty breakfast and discussed our plans.

Scorch did mention an odd oily black fog that was in the area when he appeared, but he and Bolo avoided it as they returned to us. We shrugged it off and ate.

When I asked him what happened, he waved his hand absently and murmured something about showing back up in the Grey Guild in Greyhawk. He seemed to dismiss the entire matter as just another routine occurrence. I just stared at him for a moment, glad to have the curmudgeon back. He looked back at me for a minute and after a pause barked “What?” 

I just smiled and said “Nothing.” I figured he knew what I was thinking, but would just as soon it have remained unsaid. He smiled for the briefest moment, awkwardly as if it were somewhat unfamiliar to him, then went back to his food.

I couldn’t help notice that one of Scorch’s eyes was now steel blue, while the other was jet black. How odd.

Ashbury, the now-centaur, was becoming a big more cognizant of his surroundings and more lucid. He was still having trouble speaking and found it easiest to speak Sylvan for the time being. Fortunately several of us understood him and could translate for the rest. He told us that the orc hexer has terrible powers with his third eye. First he tried to control his mind, then he simply struck him down. Ashbury believed that it is some artifact of great power that he has imbedded in his skull, and because of that he does not have long to live, as the item is killing him.

Scorch had, as requested, tried to gather up information on the Theerparts. Unfortunately his research told us little that we did not already know. The three parts were aligned strongly towards the chaotic, neutral, and law aspects. When transported, it is usually done in a person of the opposite alignment, as they are most resistant to the corruption. The part in Venn was clearly the chaotic one. But there was no information on how to remove it or how we might proceed.  If we were to deny the spikes of their source of dark power, we would need to simply remove Venn from the grove.

That would have to wait, as there was still plenty of taint left in the grove. We readied ourselves and moved to the chamber that held a spike and the orcish shaman guarding it.

In the dim chamber was the spike, and the orc and a dire bear guarding it.  In the back of his head, through a ripped hood, I could make out a sickly black eye, its gaze darting back and forth.

We descended on him quickly. I began firing arrows but they were not sticking as well as they should.  I had altered the spell on the bow to electrify my arrows – it seemed fitting revenge for those lightning bolts all that time ago. However the lightning simply slid off him.  

The orc turned and fixed his gaze on me, and I could feel his power bearing down on my mind. I was not going to be so easily controlled however and shook off the effect.  

Bolo tried to dominate the bear so that we would not have to harm it but the bear was not so easily controlled either.  Valanthe sniped at the orc from the shadows, and just after Scorch dropped the Mass Haste. 

Always a party favorite.

Aethramyr and Dravot quickly moved in after the spell landed.

I fired again at the orc as he began making a dash for the treeline, presumably to leave. He cast a Heal on himself and was well again. It looked as though this could be very troublesome if he got away.

I had not, however, counted on what Scorch did next.

Now mind you, I have heard of this spell. Read about it. Been told about it. But never have I actually seen it. And I was glad.

Scorch began rattling off arcane words, and one hand stretched out above his head began glowing red with fire. Then his other arm shot out towards the orc, and balls of pure flame burst forth, leaving a trail of heat and sparks behind them. They slammed into the orc one after the next and the explosion knocked me back in the air.

When the wave of heat passed and I could finally look back I saw…

Well… nothing.

There was nothing left except the outline in soot on the treeline. 

That, and a sickly eye on a stalk, writhing on the ground. It was covered in ash but it was the only thing that remained of Goshnak.

Dravot waved some of the ash away and a look of horror settled over his face. He muttered a prayer to Pelor with enough fervor that Scorch stopped inspecting his handiwork long enough to look at it. And he too stopped short.

And as they looked, the Eye of Vecna stared back at them, lidless and unwavering.

Scorch cooed with some excitement but even his sensibilities couldn’t ignore the danger that the Eye posed. We put it in a bag and stowed it away.

Bolo managed to beguile the bear who in any case was smart enough not to want to tangle with us further.

_[OOC Notes: Well actually, there was quite a bit more loot there.

It’s just that Scorch obliterated it all.

We’ve decided he’s only allowed to use Meteor Swarm against things that don’t carry loot on them.

As Monty would say, “Here’s what you would have won….”

Belt of holy might
+2 leaf armor (causing much amusement for me)
Amulet of proof against location and detection (doh)
Gloves of arrow snaring
Haste potion
Wisdom potion
Boots of speed
Vial of Last Gasp
+3 ring of protection

C’est la vie. Quote from Wizardru: “Apparently you didn’t need to go to Mordor. Just cast it into the firey tubes of *MOUNT SCORCH*.”]_

With the orc dead, we extracted the spike. We then moved back to the World Ash to check the Green Man. He was now pinned only by one leg, and while was closer to consciousness he was still groggy and unresponsive.

This left one remaining guardian – the dragon. I had pondered how it was held here. We were told that the lich and Venn had summoned it and Scorch believed it was from Tarterus. We discussed trying to break whatever bound it here, or perhaps trying to just tell it to leave. If it had been bribed to stay, it wouldn’t be getting paid now, so it had no reason to stay.

Scorch however thought the thing was quite mad, and rational approaches were doomed to fail. So we resolved ourselves to deal with it the old fashioned way.

We approached the chamber with the dragon cautiously. Knowing the way the grass covered the floor, we were better able to prepare, and I put a fly spell on to Aethramyr.  Valanthe and I each crept into the chamber and when we were ready, the attack began.

I was ahead of the group just enough that I didn’t want to draw the dragon’s ire until I had more support. So I used my own haste and then fired a shot.  Dravot attempted the Destruction of the dragon, but it resisted his spell.  We all entered the chamber quickly and got into position.

The dragon spun its head around. It’s eyes were unfocused and looked in different directions. It set an eye on Scorch and suddenly he was gone. I was sure it was a Maze spell, which meant he might be gone but he’d be safe enough and out soon.

I moved in for a better firing position and fired four arrows which hit solid, while Aethramyr and Valanthe circled around the dragon for strikes of their own. The dragon was moderately injured but still had quite a bit of fight left and his maddened gaze convinced me it wouldn’t give up. It tried to catch me in a resilient sphere, but I managed to avoid the bubble of force.

I was in perfect range, and there was no holding back. I fired seven arrows into the dragon. As the shafts pierced his grey hide, he screamed out. Arrows tore into his throat and spine, and he shook with rage.  It screeched at me, and suddenly I was trapped in a force cage.

[OOC Note: Hasted, I fired 4 arrows on my full attack, and 3 from manyshot on my partial round. Damage was 164 points, and I was grateful that all it did was force cage me.]

But it was too late really. The damage had been done. Valanthe and Aethramyr pounced from either side and black blood sprayed the grass. They killed it in a few swift strokes and the last threat to the grove was dead.

Scorch reappeared after a few seconds more, and was kind enough to remove the force cage. He absently mentioned that the cage would have lasted many hours otherwise. I shuddered.

We destroyed the final spike, and hastened to the World Ash to check on the Green Man.

He was no longer there. After a moment, that made some sense.

Then there was a thunderous noise, and the ground shook.  From overhead, a winged black demon entered the clearing, cresting over the treeline.  Just as fast, a thirty foot tree was thrown through the air from behind us. It struck the demon so hard it seemed to smash into a gas. The black cloud thinned out and faded from the plane. As the tree fell to the ground, it suddenly planted one end, and stood upright and began to grow again.

The Green Man stepped out from the trees and thanked us for our assistance. We spoke to him at length about what had happened in the Grove.

Some druids have always been allowed to come here. When some arrived that were not as well known to him, it was of little concern. It was some time before it was noticed that the newcomers had . . . modifications. It was something they had taken pains to conceal.  Ashbridge believed the cult of Vecna was responsible. In time these newcomers turned on them. Then Taen and Grosnak arrived. With the help of the shadow demons they ambushed the Green Man.  While he was incapacitated, they slew the other druids. But then more betrayal. Some of these druids of Vecna were in fact followers of Therizdun, and they turned on the druids of Venca and killed them.  So it seems that the cult of Vecna has been manipulated and filled with betrayers.

They also spoke about infilitrating a “brotherhood” as well. We believe it would be the Scarlet Brotherhood.

It occurs to me that we should inform the cult of Venca and the Scarlet Brotherhood of these activities. It would cause considerable disruption for them while they rooted out the traitors.

The Green Man believed that the vampire thing (Gulthias) served with the Therizdun followers. The one he served (Ashardalon) was also a servant of Therizdun.

Unfortunately the Green Man had little knowledge of the Theerpart or what to do with it. But once we removed Venn from the grove, the healing here could truly begin.

We took the day to rest up. We wanted to be ready in case someone tried to take the Theerpart from us.  The Green Man offered to send us anywhere that there were trees, and with some hesitation we returned to Ruun Khazai. We hesitated to draw attention to our new sanctuary but it was one place we knew we could shelter Venn from prying eyes.

We immediately contacted the Silverring. My mind went flying over the ocean and came to rest in Veluna near sandy colored buildings. It all seemed oddly familiar somehow but I couldn’t place where I had seen it.  By the water’s edge was the Silverring, in his elven form.

I related the details of our journey. The two key elements were of course the Eye of Vecna, and the Theerpart. He would send an emmisary, the Platinar, for the Eye and would see to its safe keeping. We arranged to meet him in the abandoned city in the Shield Lands to avoid any undue attention. This was a great relief of course.  As for the Theerpart, he had little insight. I suggested that since Mordenkainen had dealt with them before, perhaps we should enlist his aid now. After some discussion, he instead suggested we approach the Circle of Eight via Drawmij who is more sympathetic.  He would contact them and arrange something.

The Silverring also brought me up to date. Some of us are not welcome in Greyhawk – authorities there seek Dravot and Aethramyr, but he knows of no interest in the rest of us, although Scorch’s name has come up in the council.  

Also, Chavram and his gnoll army have disappeared. They have sent out scouts but it appears that Chavram has somehow moved the entire army to places unknown. This was of course of some concern.

After catching up on other details, we broke the contact. I immediately turned my mind inward again, as there was someone else to whom I needed to report.

I focused on my mark, and was quickly answered by the Queen. I can only assume she was expecting me to contact her. She said “The trees are healing. You were successful in your mission We take it. We are glad.”

I informed her that we were indeed successful, and things should be returned to normal soon. Rather than spend time on the details, I simply said I would relate the details of the matter soon.

She said with slight exasperation “Yes, I’m sure Onselven will want to know of the whole affair in every detail.”

I thought to myself “Yes, of course. I’ll give Onselven all the gory details…when I’m good and ready.”

The Queen then said “When communicating this way, you have no inner voice, child.”  In the image in my mind, she gave a slight smile.

Ah well. She went on “You have done well. Your country is proud of you. We are proud of you.”

I quietly beamed, overwhelmed at the praise from my Queen. It was as great a reward as I had ever received.

I asked about the Gulthias horrors, and she told me that many have withered and died or collapsed. Those that survived retreated south.

She then said “I am glad these matters are resolved, as other things stir in the world. An army of gnolls has appeared out of nowhere and is marching towards Geoff. Who and what purpose they serve, we do not know.”

I replied quickly “It is Chavram’s army. They were marching towards the Shield Lands and Iuz, and then disappeared some days ago. It seems he has magically transported the entire army, though to what end I do not know.”

The Queen was slightly taken aback at my immediate knowledge of the situation. I seem to be a source of distinct information that she receives from nowhere else. She expressed concern that they may be attempting to form some kind of alliance with the giants.

I told her I would attempt to learn more and would visit home soon for a full discussion. She again thanked me and withdrew.

I wasted no time in contacting the Silverring again.

“Chavram’s army is in Geoff. They may be attempting to make an alliance with the giants.”

The Silverring was concerned.  He said he would send scouts immediately and thanked me.

I leaned against a tree for a moment and took a breath. This was a delicate game. 

The Queen clearly knew I had contacts deep within the dragons, and that I was privy to much information because of that. While she has always accepted this information, she has never asked me how I came by it.

The dragons on the other hand certainly know my first loyalty must be to my Queen. They too have accepted information from those sources without questioning it. In the end, both parties have benefited and the overall good has been served.

The trick in these matters is not in preserving secrets, but in knowing when to share them. At least the dragons and the Queen had one thing in common – they both trusted me to do what I thought best.

I believe I will advise the Queen to pursue the horrors if she can do so without compromising the safety of the kingdom. They are weakened and vulnerable.

There were still several hours before we would meet the Platinar and deliver the Eye. We quickly secured away the various things we had returned with, and that left several hours to unwind before the meeting.

Just enough time for a bath.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*A Halfling's point of veiw...*

Green bless me it's over. I am running with a powerful crowd. My companions continue to amaze me. Finding out that Scorch was still alive was a wonderous thing but to see him now, come back with even more power.... Frightening. 
I didn't even get to so much as give the Orc a come hither glance before he was a pile of ash. I was shocked, and then to find the Eye of Vecna in the ashes.... (not that Scorch and I hadn't thought of that. But we still weren't expecting it.) The Orcs companion bear was not really anything but aiding it's friend an so I let it run free in the grove with the knowledge that Certimo and Ashbridge would deal with it if it stayed a problem.
The Dragon was even more of a problem. No sooner were we all back together, we loose Scorch again to a Maze spell. (Who knew corn could be so powerful!) And than Kayleigh goes and makes me look like I was not needed at all. I have always been impressed by our Champion but I have never seen her shoot like that before. Yet she wonders why Ehlonna considers her a champion of the Green!
Once all the spikes were disposed of we were able to relax with the Green Man and he taught me many secrets of the green. I now can gain nourishment from the sun directly and He showed me the secrets to the last level of Druidic prayers and spells (Bolo leveled to Druid 15/Verdant Lord 2 and now has 9th level spells). He mentioned that there is a great ash tree on the Prime that is directly connected to the World Ash. I immediatly wanted to go there but I think I had better not. There are prying eyes and I do not want to jeopardize the safety of our world. 
As a token of his favor, He granted me 5 new additions to my growing Grove at Ruun-Khazai. I now have 5 Awakened Trees and 5 Treants guarding Ruun-Khazai, and my personal grove there.
Valenthe and the others are talking about going to Sigil again. Well they are doing it with out me. I will never step back on that shore unless I can save lives. I still remember the look of the fallen Solar that I met... If there was only some way I could help.
Well, she has my shopping list and while they are away I will tend to my growing gardens and my special project. I'm creating a Bogun. I think I'll name him Chia. (and stop Zad from saying it first! LOL)
I must get word to the Druidic council about what I now know. I just hope that our next mission is to rescue Lord Gelbane. He is in a miserable spot.


----------



## Valanthe the Sleepless

*Val's journal - Bastion of broken souls, part 1*

I swear, as much as I like Bolo, someone needs to put leash on him. At least he hasn't run gleefully into the gaping maws of an astral devourer… again.


...the rest of this story has been erased from time itself (pending futher explanation from Wizardru


----------



## Zad

Rather than back up and re-edit the other posts, I'll pick up here.

We had an unhappy incident occur in our last game. It was the kind of thing that got everyone upset, and had the potential for some bad consequences. 

And it's at times like that you have to remember that you're all friends, and all just want to have some fun together and hang out. 

And so with that in mind, the entire episode was erased from existance. Wizardru has waved his hand, and it all just didn't happen. The fourth wall has been broken and we're all good with that.

I'm going to tack on an epilogue with some of the fluff, and we'll resume normally soon.


----------



## Zad

*The Green and the Black: Epilogue*

*Epilogue*

We had little time at the fortress before we had to depart to dispose of the Eye. In due order we prepared and departed, appearing at our old camp site in the ruined city.  The vines covering the building had nearly tripled in length since we were last here. However everything was covered with a fine white ash that had been here for some months.  A quick reconnoiter showed that we were alone in the area, save for a lone human on a hill a half mile away. It was a hill that had not been there before.  He bore the arms of a paladin of the Theocracy of the Pale. But more unusual was what lay beyond the hill.

Nothing. No mountain, no trees, nothing at all. The area beyond was blasted into a plain, and covered in volcanic ash.  We slowly realized that the blast likely centered on Nightfang Spire, and that the wretched place had been dealt with in a most satisfactory manner.

Since he was the only one around, we assumed that this paladin was a dragon in disguise and began to approach him. However I received a sending as we got closer warning me that our contact would be arriving soon and to stay out of sight from the sentry.

Suddenly there was a presence in the area, and I could see on the ethereal a silver dragon of fantastic proportions and age. He winked into existence from the ethereal and turned his gaze on us.  

No mean dragon this – it was a great wurm. I had originally thought that some caution was warranted to be sure this was the true messenger, but seeing him quickly dismissed that idea. We exchanged the barest pleasantries, and handed him an iron box which contained the Eye. With the box under a massive claw, each finger with jeweled golden rings, he turned his stare on each of us. His eyes blazed white, and the rings glowed, and he studied each of us intently.

“You. Priest of Pelor. You have a taint upon you. You should see to that.” We asked further but he revealed little. Dravot thought he might be tainted from the Theerpart, but later it seems that he had some kind of taint in him from a fog in Rauxes. It was easily removed once he was aware of it however.

The Platinar told us that the Theocracy has made attempts to stab into the Shield Lands, perhaps to drive Iuz further back in his time of weakness. But most of the Flaness is no longer under their protection and chaos soon will rule. He repeated the warning that some cities were not safe for us, as our enemies and the dragons seek us out.

We returned to Ruun Khazai and each tended to our separate interests. 

In the next two weeks, I did some shopping in Sigil, then returned home for a few days to visit. Onselven and a senior druid listened intently to my report on Prospero’s Grove. The druid, Sandyar, was most grateful for our efforts in protecting the Green, and as a token gave me a beautiful midnight blossom, somehow still alive despite being separated from the tree. I promptly pinned it in my hair and he just smiled approvingly.

I even managed to interrupt a formal diplomatic reception in the throne room. Onselven suggested the Queen would certainly wish to see me since I was in the palace, neglecting to tell me that the Ambassador from one of the Ulek’s was being received with his entourage. It at least explained his smirk.

The guards were at stiffer attention than usual as I approached the chamber, but I didn’t pay it much mind unfortunately. They didn’t question my purpose or warn me of the reception or even think twice about allowing a fully armed elf girl with her cat walking along side into the throne room during a diplomatic audience. They just opened the doors and I didn’t even break stride as I entered. 

Well seeing the full spectacle laid out, I immediately stopped short. The doors swung quietly shut behind me and if I was careful I could avoid being a disruption. I even caught the herald’s staff before it hit the ground when he tried to announce me, and shushed him. At the far end I could hear a human voice, likely the ambassador, droning on at length about something or other.

Unfortunately I did not escape notice entirely and a small whisper started up. Some in the court knew me, and others just were in shock. I hadn’t expected this and while nicely dressed, was still fully armed and that was causing some stir among the humans. The Queen had that look on her face that I’ve come to realize means boredom, but looked up to see what was going on. I briefly debated hiding, but figured that would not be productive.

She squinted to see who had entered and recognized me. She wasted no time interrupting the Ambassador by loudly declaring “Kayleigh!” and standing up. This of course got everyone to bowing as she strode down from the Sylvan Throne, waving me up impatiently.

I came down the center asile and curtsied low. She accepted this as her due, and bid me rise. We had come together nearly in front of the ambassador, who was somewhat flushed and beginning to harumph a bit.

At this point I had one thought in my mind: “Onselven, I’m going to get you for this.”

To the Queen I said “I must beg you forgiveness Your Majesty, and yours, sir.” I icily added “Onselven neglected to inform me that you were receiving guests.” 

The Queen flashed an impish smile for the briefest moment, then resumed her more diplomatic face. “Did he? That was absent minded of him. However We are glad for your presence nonetheless.” She turned to the ambassador saying “Ambassador Senton, this is the High Lady Kayleigh.” I raised an eyebrow at the title but the Queen just went on. “You were asking what knowledge Celene could offer about the tree blight in your lands. We can tell you that the trees of your lands should now be recovering, and that Lady Kayleigh was instrumental in this.” She looked at me saying “She is favored by Us, and We would thank her for this.”

I blushed deeply at this, unsure what to say. Fortunately the Senton spoke up. “If this is the case, then I welcome the interruption as well. You have our thanks My Lady.” He bowed and I curtsied back, setting off a fresh uproar of whispering in the hall. The ambassador studied me carefully, taking my measure no doubt. I wonder what he concluded.

The Queen asked that I attend her while the discussions continued. I quickly realized how bored she was and why she welcomed me as a distraction. But I did attend her for the afternoon, and at her request stayed for the reception that evening. Fortunately I’ve gotten in the habit of keeping my wardrobe in my haversack. 

The reception was enjoyable – it’s been too long since I got to dance. The humans were somewhat clumsy but I’ve gotten used to that. I overheard the ambassador speaking to his advisors at a few points – apparently I left an impression. 

After a few days in Celene, I caught up with Aran’gel. He was still down at the southern border dealing with the troops. I spent a few days in the camp just enjoying the camaraderie of the troops, even if some of them were a little over-awed.  The time I spent alone with Aran’gel was quite pleasant. It was dominated more by training than courtship but I welcomed both. I had learned so much and needed time with my mentor to help bring it all into focus.

There were times he looked at me with a warmth in his eyes that made me blush. And there were other times, usually when we were “working”, that he looked at me more in awe than anything. I asked him why, and he just said “You have come so far.”

After being here and there, I was back at the fortress puttering around. I was a bit concerned that we hadn’t heard from the Silverring yet. It had been two weeks and we were still sitting on the Theerpart. We were tending Venn as best we could, but this was a bad thing to have laying about the house.

I sit here after much thought, and I’m still not sure how to put any of it into words. I’m writing in the hopes that it all might become clear as I do. The past few hours are a muddled blur, and I can’t say for sure what truly happened and what was just a maddened dream.

There was an attack of some kind. Bolo was kidnapped by a many-armed demon. I remember that he was taken quickly and we followed by teleportation to the demon’s lair. The lair was filled with chains. Ringing, lashing, relentless chains, writhing in her presence, tearing at us. The battle was fierce. I remember fighting her, and some balors that were in her lair.

We could not prevail though. The balors were destroyed, but my companions were falling one by one. The stinging chains ultimately overcame me, and weak from the many slashes, I passed out as well.

The next thing I knew I was back at Ruun Khazai. The others were all there as well. We each seemed uninjured but each shuddered as we thought of the chains. Did we share a dream? Time seemed disjointed and everything was out of place. Several of us distinctly recalled Dravot communing with Pelor, but we could not understand when or why. We couldn’t remember all of the questions, but between us we did piece together a few:

*Is the Silverring in enemy hands?
No

Is Chavram still in Geoff?
No

Is Chavram back in Rauxes?
No

Is the Red Lord in Rauxes?
No*

We felt some of the other questions had to do with Bolo but none of us could remember it clearly enough to know more than that.

As we all sat around a table, trying to understand what happened, Dravot was gazing into space in silent horror, trying to understand what happened. He seemed even more disturbed than the rest of us, which is surely saying a great deal.

I very much wanted to believe it was all a dream. Indeed I would probably be able to convince myself, if it weren’t for Aethramyr’s assurances that it wasn’t. His Lady walked in the dreams, and surely he would know this for a dream if it were one.

Why then do I still want to believe it was just a dream?


----------



## WizarDru

_[WizarDru looks around...makes sure coast is clear]_

*Psst!  Hey you!  Yeah, you...come here for a second.*

_[sneaks down alleyway, looking over his shoulder the whole time]_

Cut to: DM's Secret Lair and Coffee House, dimly lit.  WizarDru grabs a cup of coffee, points to large, overstuffed chair, indicating you to take a seat.

Takes a big swig of coffee, and collapses into a beanbag chair, after moving a wavebird controller off of it.


Ahem.


Howdy.  Thought I'd take a moment to address you, the humble reader.  You've probably been wondering what's been going on, and what's the deal with Bastion of Broken Souls, anyway?  I'm sure it appears a tad confusing, so I thought we'd take a minute to chat, you and I. 

First off, let me make one thing clear.  I like Bruce Cordell as a writer.  He is responsible for some of the best source material available for D&D, as well as a very creative, engaging writer.  He's swell.  *But his adventures SUCK.*  He's currently 2 out of 3 for me, and WOTC overall is currently 2 for 8.  Not good odds, my friend, not good at all.

Now, let me be clear here: the modules themselves aren't entirely to blame.  Part of it has to do with the attitude that backs them, and the incompatability of that mindset with my campaign.  At higher level play (post 10th, say), death is assumed to happen with some degree of frequency.  With access to Raise Dead and Ressurection, modules like 'Heart of Nightfang Spire' set up circumstances where death is almost assured.  My players don't like that casual attitude towards character death, and neither do I.  A module like 'Bastion', where a CR22 creature ambushes a 18th level party repeatedly, seems arbitrary and not fun.  Having a creature that teleport without error to a party member, reduces him to -6 hit points in one turn and then departs...didn't exactly make me feel like a good DM.

More specifically, Bastion created an element of frustration amongst the players when it was clear that they were being put in a meat-grinder (_and I'll be honest, here...I pulled punches.  I had to.  I could've had a TPK on my hands, as it was.  I rapdily realized, as the encounter progressed, that I the Cathezar was too big a gun, unless you use the thunder-stealing Deus ex Machina NPC, who I almost did use....but that had other problems with it, as well_).  The frustration led to angry feelings amongst players as well as characters during both sessions of BoBS...and that's NOT why we play the game.

Further, BoBS makes the same assumption that both HoNS and 'Lord of the Iron Fortress' make...which is that some half-assed reason (usually a kidnapping or some sort of NPC imperilment) will keep the PCs committed to finishing the module, regardless of all other factors.  In other words, you should want to finish the module because it's a module, and how could you possibly not want to finish it?  My main game, which this is, doesn't support such a lack of verisimilitude.  This is the debate we had during Nighfang Spire...namely, "If the Circle of Eight is so darned powerful and concerned, why don't they come here and solve the problem themselves?  Why the hell should we flunkies be down here getting killed, when someone more powerful could actually finish the job?"  You can find an illustration of this principle no further than Wulf Ratbane's Story Hour where, for the third time in the campaign whlie slogging through the core modules, one of the characters asks "Why are we doing this, again?"  It's a very metagame mentality, and it takes away from our enjoyment.  My players have Everquest, Baldur's Gate or Golden Sun for that kind of systematic "loot-the-monster and explore every room" play...they expect more from a pen-and-paper game, and frankly, so do I.

Would leaving the module intact have created irreprable harm to game?  It might not have.  But it would have required weeks of work for me to do so, to little benefit.  Instead, I chalked it up to a mistake, rewrote history using a Deus ex Machnia that makes sense in the context of the game (and had been kept in the closet for this very reason).  Everyone agreed that the module hadn't really played out the way we'd wanted it to, and decided to move on.

I apologize for the potential confusion such a breach of the 'fourth wall' may cause.  Believe me, it's as confusing to play it as it is to read it.  But my paramount goal is that everyone enjoys the game and has fun, not argue over what we dub (thanks to Wulf Ratbane) as "torch issues", accidental spell misfires, melting magic items or pissing off elven queens by at first making her think you're sexing up her little boy, and then *NOT* sexing up her little boy when you seem like an attractive mate, _*which may be worse*_.  That sort of thing.

Lest I forget, my thanks to my players for the mad propz.  

It IS appreciated.

So, what with that out of the way:  Kick back and relax.  

Enjoy your particular holiday of choice, and feel free to ask questions.

When next we resume, which may be this very weekend, we will begin anew with the start of our next adventure, "*The Shadow of Winter*", in which the nature of the true enemies of all that lives reveals itself, and the world may be ripped asunder.


----------



## dravot

*Dravot's Journal - Bastion of Broken Souls (Revised)*

Dravot’s Journal - Bastion of Broken Souls (Revised)

Something happened in the lair of the foul demoness, and I do not like it.  I do not pretend to understand what it portends, but it cannot be good.

When I found Scorch, he said that some fiend had attacked Bolo and made off with his unconscious body.  We scried his location and found him in a coma on the floor of a horrible room that can only be described as an abbatoir.  Chains hung from the ceiling; blood was everywhere.  We prepared as best we could and teleported in ready for vengeance.

We showed up, only to find party members shunted to another room in this blood soaked suite.  I healed Bolo as the demoness (someone called her The Cathezar) teleported into the room and brought the chains to life.  They struck at us with hell force, cutting at us while the Cathezar used various spells against us, but we managed to stay on our feet and press the attack.  She was mostly immune to our spells, but not to our weapons, and so we tried to use it to our advantage.

Kayleigh and Valanthe however, found themselves in a different room than the rest of us.  Valanthe set off and then disabled a couple of magic traps, and then they tried to find us.  They knew that we weren’t too far off, given the sounds of combat in the distance.

A few seconds later, they opened a door and entered the fight with us.  So intent were they that they didn’t notice the bright light that flared up behind them, but as I had a clear view, I couldn’t help but notice.  Balors.  Two of them.  Terrifying for their evil and for their raw power.

I cried for Valanthe and Kayleigh to enter the room, as it would be relatively safer, and if nothing else, we needed to all be together to teleport out.

Then Bolo collapsed from the wounds that the chains had inflicted upon him, alive but unconscious yet again.  Scorch and Aethramyr and I were all hit with some fire spell, and Scorch was the next to drop.  Aethramyr managed to stay alive by the use of his Lay on Hands, and I moved then moved up to heal him.  Kayleigh and Valanthe set up to attack the Cathezar, and managed to do a lot of damage to her.  Unfortunately, this only drew her attention and wrath upon them, and the Balors moved in as well.  I wished I could have added to the melee damage, but it was all I could do to keep everyone on their feet.  I tried to go and revive Scorch, but was prevented from doing so by the Balors, and the need to keep Kayleigh in the fight.

Nonetheless, it wasn’t enough, and Kayleigh fell to the Balor onslaught.  Valanthe danced with the Balors for quite a while, but she was brought down as well, but Aethramyr had done a good job of keeping the Cathezar injured and away from our friends, but he had paid a heavy price as well.  I dropped my last cure spell on Aethramyr, knowing that it would be but a drop in the ocean, yet hopeful that it would buy me enough time to get Aethramyr and some of my compatriots out, and then I tried to keep the Balors from getting to Aethramyr.  I planned on grabbing him, Scorch, Valanthe and Kayleigh and teleporting the five of us out.  I did not want to abandon Bolo, yet I didn’t see how we could get to him before we all died.  We would have to nurse our wounds and try again on the morrow.  One of the Balors stepped up to me and prepared to chop at me with his daemon blade.

That was when I heard the voice.  Chavram’s voice.  A loud metallic sound, like rings spinning on a table filled my ears, making it impossible for me to hear what he said, but clearly it was a spell of some kind.  The Balors froze in position, the one with his blade only inches from my shield as I struggled to bring it to my defense.

The Cathezar turned her head to regard the new entrant upon the field of battle, but before she could react, Chavram banished her and the Balors from the Prime.  My grandfather bore a bladed staff, and behind him I saw my father, looking thin and gaunt and tall, as if he had been stretched like so much taffy.  Chavram ignored me, walked over to the desk and grabbed a book and left with my father.  He paused to look at me before he teleported out, and I tried to fathom what was in his soul and I wondered what it was he was looking for in me.

At that point I revived Scorch and all of us went back to Ruun Khazai.

Only Aethramyr was left standing at that point, and he doesn’t recall anything about Chavram.  I have patiently explained what I saw had happened, and have answered their questions as best I can.  We do not know who this demoness is, nor why she wanted Bolo (alive or dead), but clearly she had something of interest to Chavram.

The very idea of Chavram sparing the lives of my friends and myself is as puzzling as it is vexing.  I find myself growing most irritable as I ponder it’s meaning.  I suppose that he still has plans for me, but this…patronizing attitude angers me deeply.  It’s about time I started becoming a thorn in his side.  I have one more item to make, a Bead of Karma, while I am making it, I will use my off time to meditate on what to do about this.

It is late, and I must rest now.  I hope to head to Brindinford tomorrow and pick someone up.


----------



## dravot

*Winter of Night, aka, My dinner with Andre, er, Ravik*

Dravot’s Journal

While waiting for Valanthe to return from Sigil with my new periapt, I cast a sending, and contacted Thora.

Look for me at the office at lunchtime.
I'll be available for some business.
Ask Zira if she'll come with me to Ruun Kazai.

The response came back immediately.

There is lots for you to sign.
An envoy from Xavener is here for you.
I'll ask her, I'm sure she'll go."

I thought for a moment about changing my plans, but I stopped myself.  I have been dreading any contact with Xavener for a while now, but I need to deal with it, and this moment seemed as good as any.

I occupied my time until it was time to go to Brindinford.

I then teleported to the offices, only to find myself face to face with Lindi, one of the kitchen staff.   She began to scream and suddenly the dishes of food that she was carrying found themselves aloft.  She then began screaming something about a dog demon, and was pointing at me.

Needless to say I was rather confused.

Thora was at her desk, and looked up.  "Lindi!  Calm down!  It's all right!  IT'S ALL RIGHT!", she yelled in order to make herself heard.  The young girl looked at me, her eyes still full of fear.  "It's only the Lord Dravot, dear.  He's just wearing that frightful head-piece of his."  She casts a scolding glance at me.  "Oh, for Pelor's sake, will you remove that horrid thing?  You look a sight in it."

I grinned at Thora and removed the helm.  “I’m sorry, Lindi.  I didn’t mean to frighten you.”  I put the helm away and tried to make amends by helping clean up the food mess I had caused.

Overall, things look pretty good here, but there are a few concerns, specifically, the refugees from Rauxes.  The captain of the watch has requested a night time curfew, which I am inclined to grant.  It will keep the public safety and help enforce the rule of law.  The refugees are living in a tent city has grown just outside of town, and there are guards posted for their safety.  So far, feeding them hasn’t been a problem, but if more continue to arrive that may change.

The Temple of Wee Jas has finished their new facility outside of town, and have turned their old buildings back to the Estate.  Thora says that there is some contention for the old buildings, as the property they’re on is quite valuable, but no one has formally requested it’s use as of yet.

Our family crypts have been repaired and reconsecrated, which pleases me.  I’m glad that episode of my life is past me.

After completing the paperwork, I had luncheon with Ravik, the envoy from the Overking.  A halfling, he was dressed in expensive velvets and had the nerve to treat me almost as if I were his guest.

"My Lord Dravot.  This IS an honor.  I had begun to resolve to never meeting you!  Though I hasten to add that your house has been very accomodating to my no-doubt unwelcome intrusion to your daily affairs.  Not all of our OverKing's subjects have been as welcoming, I assure you."

I responded as politely as I could.  "Greetings, Ravik.  I'm glad that you've found our hospitality to your
liking.  I wish that I could have been here earlier, but I've been rather busy with various affairs.  I'm certainly grateful for this chance to meet with you, and I'm sure that you're anxious to get back to the courts after spending so much time here."  I was certainly anxious to send him on his way.

A true halfling, he was more interested in the meal than in business, at least as long as there was food to be had.  Fortunately, my time with Bolo taught me that this was merely a cultural affectation, and I tried as best as possible to be patient until the meal was done.  We talked briefly about social goings-on at the Court as we ate.

Finally, we got to business.  Apparently, Xavener is concerned at the reports of my continued absences from Brindinford.  There is speculation that I have thrown my lot in with Chavram, and he has asked for a statement of loyalty from me.  I have drafted one up and will send it with Ravik in the morning, along with news from Hexpools and Rauxes.

Zira returned from patrol later on, and I noticed that while she wore the colors of Brindinford, she did not wear her usual devices, and I asked her about it.  She only stated that she was uncomfortable wearing them in Ravik’s presence, and did not want to attract attention to herself, and that she would speak more of it later.

In the morning, we will return to Ruun Kazai.  There I hope to learn more of the curse that she and her brother , and to see what can be done about it.


----------



## dravot

*Dear OverKing*

Unto His Royal Majesty, OverKing Xavener, does Lord Dravot of Brindinford
send humble greetings.

In speaking with Your envoy, Lord Ravik, it has come to my attention that there may be concern about where my loyalties lay, especially given that Chavram is my grandfather.

Please be assured that I find everything that Chavram stands for anathema, and I have undertaken every chance to thwart him and his plans, and will continue to do so.

My loyalties to this Realm are as strong as ever, and I acknowledge You as the Dread Sovereign of these lands.  As Your vassal, it is my wish and desire to aid You in whatever endeavors can benefit the kingdom.

With honor, and in service



Dravot d'Chandagnac

Unto His Royal Majesty, OverKing Xavener, does Lord Dravot of Brindinford
send humble greetings.

Enclosed please find information I have uncovered in my wanderings throughout our fair kingdom.

Hexpools does indeed lie in ruins.  There are some survivors, but they have a hardscrabble existence under the thumb of the red dragons who have roosted there.  As usual, a few have thrown their lot in with the dragons and are helping them in oppressing our people.

If You have any information to share, I would appreciate hearing from You. It is vital that we rescue the people as soon as possible, but more information must be gathered first.

Also, I have seen the outskirts of Rauxes, and it is a desolate wasteland. It is my intention to lead an assault there at some point in the future, but I am far from ready to do so.

Refugees are continuing to pour in, even as far as we are from Rauxes. Brindinford is doing what we can to shelter and feed them, but we are quickly reaching our breaking point.

With honor, and in service



Dravot d'Chandagnac


----------



## Zad

*The Shadow of Winter, Chapter 1*

*The Shadow of Winter*

*Chapter 1*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience is 2833 this week. Let’s not forget we left Venn unattended.

Archival note: Ruun Khazai is on hex X-17 on the big ol Greyhawk map.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

After the confusing episode, things returned to a semblance of normalcy, although strained. We each set about our individual business but kept in contact. I returned to my admittedly relaxing work of spending time alternately in Celene and with Aran’gel.  This was probably the most continuous time I’d been able to spend in either area in many months, and I took great pleasure in re-connecting myself.

Valanthe had a meeting with some of her contacts and learned that the Shadow King is apparently depositing large numbers of troops on the Prime. The exact numbers are unknown, but when an army of unknown size and unknown intentions appears, we’d do well to be concerned.

Unfortunately we couldn’t pass this information very far.  I had been repeatedly trying to contact the Silverring so that we could pass Venn on to someone better able to safeguard him. The old dragon said he would try to contact the Circle of Eight but we had heard nothing from him since then.  Valanthe tried some other channels but we still have heard nothing. I was going to talk with Dravot about attempting to make direct contact with them, before we were distracted by… other matters.

Then there was the matter of a vision. In the course of various teleporting here and there (something that’s becoming disturbingly routine for us) Aethramyr asked to speak to me privately. He told me that he’d had a most unsettling dream the night before.

He stood on an endless plain of sand and rock, older than the world.  Harsh winds blew across it, blasting sand upon everything with a force that would flay skin from muscle.  Cyclones and whirlwinds twisted across the plains. Nothing green could be seen in any direction under the vast sky filled with harsh storm-clouds that offered thunder and lightning but no hope of life-giving rain.  Then, from over the horizon, a vast structure of rock, floating in the air, came flying forth. A tall, thin boulder the size of a castle tower hovered high above the ground. Its surface was sheer though rough, except on the top where a thick green moss grew like a carpet.  Standing amidst the green was a lithe old elven woman, quiet and still. She leaned on a short walking stick, tired but resolute. Upon her forehead, he saw a mark that looked somehow familiar but he couldn’t quite place it. She looked at him without comment, and raised her left hand and pointed behind him.  He swung about to see a huge being clawing its way free of the earth, its massive hands large enough to engulf a horse.  It was like a mixture of earth and fire elementals, composed of different kinds of rock but with the evil red light of magma glowing from beneath and visible through cracks throughout its body like veins.  Where it rose from the ground, a vast hole remained, black and glassy. Aethramyr told me he knew in his heart that it was not just the vast heat it generated that stained the land it touched.  It screamed in rage, with a hatred of all that lives.  And then he heard a wordless voice…

*”They are returning, O paragon of the dreamers. They will engulf your world and tear it apart, ere the darkest of the dark is released from his prison. Know you this: Our Lady holds dominion not only over the realms of dreams, but over the darkest of its dreamers. Three gods watch over his prison, and are responsible for his keeping. They aid you, but you must act as their agents, or there will be no world left for the most evil to end. Return to wakefulness, and know that your time draws ever closer.”*

With that the vision ended.

Aethramyr said the woman seemed somehow familiar. To me what was familiar wasn’t the woman, but the stone.  My mind went back to a chilling cold night, soaring through the night sky. I grabbed my journal and began flipping backwards…

_ To the right is a column of rock shooting up out of the maze. Actually it was more hovering in the air above it. Part of the column breaks off and redefines itself in the shape of an elven woman. She appears somewhat old and is also examining the maze. She is wearing some type of symbol on a chain at her neck. _

This was in the dream that Aethramyr and I shared as we flew to rescue Aran’gel from the clutches of the demon that was impersonating Rackhir’s wife.  The idea of the stone reminded me of something else during a divination the Queen had performed for me using the binder - 

_Should we try to get to the lost binders before Chavram does? *Failure to gather at least one of the contested greater binders would be disasterous. However the time is not yet right. *(The Queen indicated she could foresee us pursuing a bonder, concealed and under guardianship for 500 years. We will seek it under the earth. She could see the symbol of Therizdun, and saw us in a maze. The elven symbol for stone was also prominent, but she did not know the significance. This bore a great similarity to the vision Aethramyr and I shared while riding Tongs.)_

We have indeed recovered (or perhaps “eliminated” a binder) but never noticed the symbol. However when I asked Lord Gelban about the symbol some months ago he said

_ As to the symbol itself, it relates to the people of The Testing in the Lendore Isles. What they might have to do with all this is puzzling and of some concern to Lord Gelban. He said that he would investigate._

If he ever got a chance to investigate, I never heard the result.  I asked Aethramyr if this was the symbol he saw but he could not clearly see it.

I need to find someone in Celene to ask about this. The vision contains several messages and we are still considering the meaning but there are some clear parts of this vision. There is a powerful being – the darkest of the dreamers – being held imprisoned by three gods. These gods will aid us if we aid them. Disaster awaits if the being is released.

I am left again to ponder why such things must be so obscure. If this agent had things she wanted Aethramyr to know, why did she simply not tell him. Who is this being? Who are the gods keeping him at bay? And what needs be done to prevent this disaster? However I gave this little more than a passing thought – this  simply seemed to be the way the world worked – cloaked in riddle and enigma. I think it’s how the gods test mortals.

If there are three gods holding this being, and they are willing to help, then perhaps we can contact them directly for more information. The first key being to understand which gods are involved. I am hoping that Dravot’s deep study of religion will offer some insights.

Dravot however was at the family home in Brindinford. He had business to attend to and there was an emissary from The Overking waiting some time to see him. It was a matter he had been putting off and so had to deal with it. 

The next day almost everyone happened to be at Ruun Khazai. I was in Celene but everyone else was there. We were having a mental conference about developments. Dravot told us that apparently Xavener was worried about where Dravot’s loyalties lay since he’d been missing so much. Xavaner seemed to be worried that Dravot was siding with his grandfather.  A laughable notion to anyone who knows Dravot but he nonetheless reassured the emissary and the matter seemed to be handled for now. We were going on to other matters when the trees informed Bolo that some short folks were approaching.

It turned out to be Bolo’s parents, arrived for a visit. I was a bit concerned about how they got here, and the risk to the secrecy of the place, but the die was cast so little could be done.

Before we could resume our discussion, Dravot received a sending from a priest in Brindinford.

_Town under attack. Undead on the march. Defenses raised. Need help._

The rest of the group moved quickly and teleported to Brindinford. I went to the palace had no trouble arranging similar transportation.

The first thing I noticed when I arrived was the smell of acid in the air. I rolled my eyes at the thought of more dragons. While it was daytime, the light was dim as though an early twilight had come. Lightning arced across the sky under turbulent clouds.  People were panicking and the refugees that were in the tent city outside town had fled to the walled city proper.  

We met up and made some preparations and then went to the eastern gate. As I landed on the wall, I saw ranks of zombies, shambling towards the gate. There were at least three groups of forty zombies. At their lead were two horsemen – town guards – riding for their lives towards the gate.

I took some time to look more closely – the zombies seemed to be of little threat and my friends had better ways of dealing with things like that.  The zombies all had bows and their arrows seemed… odd. They would not fly well and seemed more like random sticks than arrows. This would not bode well but I had little time to consider it.

The horsemen had just made it into the gate when one of the horses went down hard. It was thrashing about and suddenly something burst out of the horse. It was like a huge pale blue snake, but with an empty skull for a head. It burst from the horse without tearing the skin. (“Great, incorporeal” I thought to myself.) The horse collapsed and the snake darted through the horseman as well, and he collapsed too, pale and empty. The creature was easily ten feet long and moved around with frightening speed.

Dravot had arrived on the wall near me, and brought Pelor’s wrath to the unrighteous. A shaft of sun came down from above onto Dravot and then burst forth in all directions.  The entire first squad of zombies was blasted into ash but the snake was unfazed. However with that, the other horse let out a scream and another snake burst from its hindquarters.

This new snake darted straight for Dravot and flew through him. Dravot felt a chill but his faith protected him from any other ill effects.  

Bolo was high overhead in bird form, and he scanned the road and forest for other enemies, feeling as I did that there was more to come. The zombies had also started panic and fires in the tent city, and Bolo brought up a water elemental to put out that fire. Scorch loosed a fireball from a nearby tower and the second troupe of zombies was incinerated.

[Now let’s be accurate here. What Scorch actually did was somewhat different. Scorch was improved invisible and flying in his usual grick form. He landed on a tower next to an archer on the town guard. He couldn’t resist messing with this poor man and whispered “See how Pelor punishes the unrighteous.” And threw the fireball. The rest of the battle each time he threw a spell, he whispered in the man’s ear. The poor fellow began openly weeping and after the battle withdrew from the guard to join the church.]

There’s a sudden rising of sound like the dropping of sticks. A lot of sticks. I turned to look over the wall and saw the misshapen arrows that the first group of zombies had start to move.  They were sprouting legs like small twig blights and hundreds of them were swarming towards the walls. 

Aethramyr and Valanthe engaged one of the snakes but were having trouble landing their blows, as we expected.  I managed to get an arrow into it but only caused minor injury.  The snake hissed and sped towards me, but bounced off my shield spell and went by. Fortunately most of my protections are equally effective against this sort of thing. Dravot focused his power more directly and destroyed the snake that had struck at me in a flash of sunlight.

Meanwhile Bolo and Scorch dealt with the twigs that were swarming the walls. Bolo used his powers to explode a great number of the blights, while a chain lightning ripped from the tower and incinerated the rest of the swarm of living wood. In a battle like this, I was glad to have Scorch and Bolo on my side – their destructive power was staggering.

Meanwhile Aethramyr, Valanthe and the just arrived Thorkeld continued to attack the other snake. Thorkeld had just ridden up on a celestial lion, but I had no time to do more than raise an eyebrow before he smashed the snake with his hammer, and the power of it destroyed the snake utterly.

So far this had either been far too easy, or the attacker had not expected such a capable defense. We were all waiting for the other boot to drop and scanning the field at various times. Aethramyr however was taking that more literally than the rest of us, and saw two skeletal birds in the sky over the town, diving hard with something clutched in their claws.  Scorch tried to disintegrate the payload but it had no effect.  The birds were coming down fast, and it seemed that if their payload landed, it would be bad for us. So I fired at the birds, and at least took them out of the equation, while Bolo and Scorch moved up into the sky to see if there was anything more waiting up there.  Valanthe managed to catch one of the spheres, and the acid it was coated in nearly burned her hands off. Aethramyr catches the other safely.  They deposited both of them in the water elemental, who seethed and moaned at the acid.

Dravot dropped a blade barrier into the third wave of zombies, neatly destroying both the zombies and their twig blight payload and then moved out of town towards the nearby woods, scanning carefully for more undead. I kept scanning the woods looking for some sign of more attackers and covering Dravot.

Meanwhile Scorch and Bolo broke through the clouds and saw nothing at first. Scorch wasn’t convinced and a See Invisible spell revealed a group of some two score of the skeletal birds, but they did not carry any more of the strange devices.  They easily dispatched the birds and returned to ground level.

Meanwhile Dravot was suddenly hit by two bursts of negative energy. It seemed there was something invisible out there but beyond the range of my sight. I moved out some and two large fleshy beasts were revealed -–almost like a flesh golem in size and blubbery composition.  I quickly glittered them both so the others could see them, and Dravot destroyed one with a turning. I opened fire on the other one but to no effect – Dravot turned on that one next and destroyed it the same way.

By this time Scorch and Bolo had descended, and Scorch heard the wailing of the water elemental, who was screaming in Aquan.  It said the acid burned, but it would take the spheres away with it, if it were dismissed quickly. Bolo wasted no time dismissing the elemental and the dark spheres with it, ending that unknown threat.

It didn’t take long to finish off the stragglers – Thorkeld had been in the battlements destroying the few twigs that had escaped. We moved to the forest edge to look for signs of anything else but found nothing. All tracks were wiped clean, probably by retreating twig blights.  Bolo communed with nature and learned that there was one man-thing (as described by the trees) in the forest that did not go with the zombies. It was there, then suddenly gone. It was fleshy, not undead apparently, and didn’t seem to be Chavram.  Frankly if it were Chavram, I think the attack would have been more potent. The overall nature of the attack made Dravot believe that these were servants of Orcus, and the attack was probably due to Kargoth.

Did Kargoth expect us to appear and defend the town? Surely the town would have fallen quickly had we not been there. But why attack Brindinford, and what will he do now that he’s been repulsed?


----------



## Zad

*To:* The Savage Sword of Meepo Adventuring Company, L.L.C

*From:* Project Management

*Re:* Current outstanding issues

Here is the update to the bi-weekly "To-do" list:

1. Turn over the Theerpart to someone capable of dealing with it
2. Prevent destruction of world by magma elementals and dark dreamer.
3. Recover and/or destroy remaining contested binders
4. Determine source of gulthias horrors and eliminate
5. Destroy Kargoth
6. Destroy Chavram, prevent apotheosis
7. Rescue Lord Gelban
8. Destroy Gulthias
9. Determine who sacked Aethramyr's home town. Exact vengance
10. Determine if there are more people behind the attack on the Green. Eliminate.
11. Determine if Greyhawk Dragons are a threat
12. Destroy Shadow King
13. Find out what Fraz Erb Luu is up to
14. Prevent release of Therizdun
15. Destroy Scarlet Brotherhood, or at least the Red Lord
16. Destroy creature that cut off Aran'gel's hand and did all that other naughty stuff
17. Kill any and all orcs encountered

Please note that if your backlog continues to build up at this rate, the human party members will have to turn into elves just to have a lifespan long enough to deal with these items. Suggest you get a move on.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*A Week in the life*

Ever since the demon attack Bolo had been thinking about his mortality. Eventually he realized what he would need to do. Bolo spends most of his time at The Grove in the lands of black ice and that is where his crusade started. 
The villagers have come to like the sensitive Halfling and it is no longer strange to them to see him half naked tending the grove, but today was special. There was a 30’ tall earth elemental moving stones into a circle around the great rowan. These megaliths were made of white and gray granite and had to weigh a few tons each. Helping to direct the elemental was Borialis the awakened Polar bear. Once the stones were in place Bolo thanked the elemental and went about more work.
He had taken some of the small bushes he had planted off to the right of the great tree last time he stayed for more than a day and started to shape them into 9 living seats. 1 small and in the center of the hemisphere that the other 8 formed. Borialis wandered around with a bemused look on his face saying, “Bolo, do you think it’s wise to do this? 
“Of course” The druid replied. “I have all the faith in the world that we can do this. I have to assume the responsibilities that are part of the package of an elder druid. I have to teach the way to students, and what better place to learn the green ways then here beneath the great Rowan.” Bolo’s bogun was flitting around building a fire pit between the students’ seats and Bolo’s seat. The strange little creature looking like a wooden toy that had somehow escaped its puppet strings. “Master the pit is finished.” 
“Thanks Chia. Please tend to the pruning of the seats.” Bolo replied. He was very happy that he had created the plant minion it was coming in handy. 
A few of the villagers were starting to crowd around the circle and asking questions of the bear whom they knew well. Borealis replied that Bolo had decided to start teaching a few druid initiates and in a few days would be calling for those who were interested. 
Bolo took a few moments to travel to the Blue Bugbear tribe who lived in the forest on the edge of Beory’s Rest. The shaman was awaiting him. Bolo had gotten used to her knowing when he would show up. Bolo had been learning her language for some time now and while not fluent he could at least get the point across that he would accept two members of her tribe for his circle of Initiates if they chose to come. He advised her that this was a way for the tribe and the village to strengthen their ties and bond of trust. She agreed and sent a young male and female along with Bolo. The shaman advised him that the boy was gifted with animals and showed no signs of being a warrior. And the girl was too weak to care for herself in the wild; she was hoping that Bolo could aid the girl. Bolo accepted them and all 3 returned to the grove in the forms of hawks thanks to a ‘Feathers’ spell.
The next day Bolo chose from the villagers 6 people who had shown interest in his ways, 2 male Gnomes, an Elven man, a human woman, and 2 half Orcs (male and female). He also spent the day finding and enlisting the aid of a few of the native animals. He “Awakened” 5 Wolves and 3 Falcons. All of who were willing to guard the grove. 
One the third day the classes began. All went well until Sharina Trives the village midwife came running up the path and told Bolo that one of the workers rebuilding the town had been killed due to a fall from the roof of the town hall that was being built. Bolo went to the body and asked the spirit of the man (an elderly human named Rogiar) if he would want to return. Rogiar said yes and Bolo cast Reincarnation. The new body formed and Rogiar came back to life as a Satyr. Ravenna took the Goat man away and said she would help him get adjusted to his new form. The Owl just watched with the same bemused fascination that she looks at everything with. Bolo really likes the Owl but they have not had time to just sit and talk. 
“"Hmmph.  I suppose it'll do.  Best be keeping him away from the girl, old Bird.  Satyrs ain't good for much 'cept tree-hugging and.....", Haldrin mused.  He had censored himself again, what with the Owl's apprentice, Ember, being about.  "Well, like I said...It'll do, druid." Haldrin is one of Bolo’s closest friends outside of the Chosen of Gelban.
“Ehlonna be praised. Not me. But thanks for the thought.” The druid piped back with a huge smile on his face.
The rest of the week went well and there were no further incidents at the Grove. Bolo decided that he should go to the academy that the Chosen were using as a base of operations and that is where he got the shock of his life. His parents had shown up at the doors of Rhuun-Kazia and were looking for him.
Now Danforth and Rose Brandybuck don’t get away from their village much and certainly don’t look for their son in strange Githyanki fortresses. But his father the paladin of Yondalla said he had had a vision of Bolo and tracked it here. It would seem that Bolo was not the only member of his family to be attacked by demons. Bolo’s sisters were on their way to the Grove in Beory’s Rest and would probably bee there by now. Bolo unfortunately is a bit bewildered by his parents’ presence even though Scorch and Danforth have struck up a story telling one-upmanship fight and in so doing Danforth has come to learn that Bolo has become quite the hero. Rose on the other hand seems to think poorly of the Elves in general and treats Aethramyr as a dim-witted child. The champion of the Goddess of Dreams seems to be proving his strength of will in not telling Rose off. After showing them to their room Bolo was informed that Brindenford, Dravot’s home was under attack.


----------



## WizarDru

For fans of the Story Hour, GO HERE .

My Players, *STAY OUT!*


----------



## Zad

*The Shadow of Winter - Chapter 2*

*OOC Notes:*

Exp is 4100

The elven interior decorator was a practitioner of Shueng Fey.

*This Week’s Adventure*

The years during the Hateful Wars were a sad time to grow up in. The savagery of the orcish tribes was unmatched, and the air was filled with desperation. As the tide turned and the orcs were beaten back, the tone changed from desperation to fierceness – and then to vengeance. Orc and goblin warrens were razed, their occupants smoked out and put to the sword, even women and children. And I wondered if we had become as savage as those we fought against. Eventually I realized the difference between the elves and orcs was that we didn’t start the war. And the only way to quench their undying hatred of the elves and find peace was to end their lives.

But during the wars, there were stories. Stories of grand battles against hordes of the foul folk of the underdark.  Stories of great heroes who held back armies of invaders single-handedly. Their deeds changed the tide of the war, and their stories gave hope and courage to everyone who heard them.

Tonight, I lived that story.

As for what Kargoth would do now that he had been repulsed, I didn’t have to wait long to find out.


After the battle, the panic subsided quickly. The fires were put out and everyone moved into the comparative safety of the city. Dravot and Thorkeld saw to the business of reinforcing the defenses of the town.  Teams of scouts were sent out to look for another attack – a force like that doesn’t just appear suddenly. 

Dravot and Scorch investigated the remains of the attackers. In the decaying flesh of the golem-like creatures, they found a bracelet in each. It was black and had an evil feel to it. Scorch attempted to remove them. The first time he had no troubles but on the second one, he mistakenly touched it with his finger, and it set off a burst of negative energy that ripped through everyone in the area. Valanthe joined them and disabled the devices – they seemed to be some kind of reservoir of negative energy that could be discharged to damage enemies and heal the undead.

A few hours later, many of the scouts sent out hadn’t returned. Scorch tried to scry them and determine their fate. Some of them he found, their bodies drained by stirges. Others were turned into zombies and marched on some unknown road. Others were missing, the crystal ball only showing an empty spot of road.

For my part, I stood on the parapets, scanning the countryside. Watching and waiting.

A beam of sunlight broke the clouds and cast its light on the Temple of Pelor.  By the time Dravot got there, Zera was coming out of the door with Cresent helping her walk. She was in great pain, and said it was the transformation – sometimes it was easier than others.  

Zera had been spending time in Brindinford of late, and had gone with Dravot to Ruun Khazai before the attack - Dravot wanted to work on un-doing the curse that she and her brother Zara suffered from. Now she had arrived back in Brindinford, and we were glad for the help.  

Scorch had meant to investigate the curse more thoroughly but other things kept popping up. With her in front of him he was reminded, and got a sudden idea. He tried to scry Zara. If Zera was here, where was her brother now? The answer was more surprising than we could have imagined.

Scorch quickly focused in on a dark void of a plane.  He saw Zara, held in bands of mithril. Nearby were some thirty other people, similarly held. Scorch believed this was a demi-plane that someone had created.  As we scanned the scene through the ball, I suddenly hissed. One of the figures was the black archer that had almost killed Aran’gel. We now knew that it wasn’t actually Ravenna, but there was no doubt in my mind that this was the evil look-alike. Valanthe saw something even more surprising.

It was Rackhir. 

He was bound as the others were, his bow clutched in his hand. We just stared at each other, not understanding what we were seeing. I had always thought, or perhaps hoped, that Rackhir was somewhere in the outer planes, free but unable to return. But this raised more questions. Who held these people here? Was it just a dumping ground, or someone’s private prison, and if so, who’s?

During our scrying, we were suddenly scried back. It seemed someone was unhappy with our snooping. Scorch tried to scry back to whomever was watching us, but the attempt failed. The scrier broke the contact, having seen what they needed I suppose. Scorch let his crystal go dark.

We could spare no more time to puzzle it out however and returned to our tasks.  Valanthe scouted the area around the town, and found some very odd landmines that would burst acid on whoever set them off. Bolo conjured up some earth elementals to disable them easily enough, but it was strange they were there at all. This only further strengthened my idea that Kargoth was trying to take the town. I was unsure if he had been attacking in order to overwhelm the town, or to draw us out. It seems more and more that he had not anticipated our presence here.

Some hours passed, and we each got what rest and sleep we could. Times like this make me cherish being an elf. Eight hours after the first attack, it began. We were in various areas of the town when it started. I heard a rustling in the trees, like the wind going through them, but there was no wind, nor movement in the leaves.  Valanthe made out the sound of lots of little splishes in the water, coming up the river.  We moved to the north gate to look closer.

Coming up the river was a squad of troglodytes. They were running on the surface of the river, barely touching it.  They were running in two ranks of twenty like a well disciplined force, and each had a spear.  From the same area, a gulthite broke through the forest coming towards the town.  I hadn’t seen one of the massive tree golems before but the party had fought one in this area once – their foliage formed a protective screen making it harder to damage them, and you had to break through it before you could start brining down the tree itself. Where a treant was a strong, gentle spirit of nature, this was a misshapen horror of twisted roots and crooked branches.

Then we heard screaming to the east - the east gate was being assaulted as well. 

Scorch began heading this way – I would need his help to deal with these things. If the gulthite was as sturdy as they said, it would take quite a bit of firepower to get through to it. Even worse, a second one came crashing through the treeline. Not to mention the troglodytes. I didn’t waste time waiting for the troglodytes, and fired a hail of arrows at them. Seven trogs fell dead, and two more were barely standing. The flame on the arrows was extinguished as it hit each target though, and I began to wonder if these weren’t part water-elemental.

Scorch quickly arrived and so I decided to focus on the gulthites, knowing the troglodytes were as good as dead.  I took aim and started launching arrows at the massive tree. It was over three hundred feet away but closing fast on the town walls.  I was hoping to soften him up and destroy his protection so we could destroy him, but I was in for a pleasant surprise. 

Over the months since I became a Champion, I’ve learned how to put more and more arcane energy into every shaft, and now my arrows were infused with as much spellcraft as the most potent weapons. As the arrows arced towards the gulthite, the heads glowed like golden stars and the flaming shafts made it look like comets streaking across the dark sky towards the twisted tree.  They tore through the twigs and leaves that surrounded the tree, and landed solidly in the trunk, and it screeched in pain.  

Scorch didn’t even waste time smirking but moved to the troglodytes who had moved up the river near the wall. He floated overhead and struck them with a swirling mass of ice and frost. The cone of cold brought the squad to a halt, and for a split second, they stood on the now frozen river, like a sculpture of ice before falling over and shattering into thousands of pieces. Their spears squealed and shattered with them, and Scorch concluded that they must be more twig blights disguised as spears.

We were now under attack at the east and south gates as well as the north. Over the scale I called to Scorch “My arrows are going right through their leaf shields.”

“Interesting” he replied. “Are you ok here?”

“I can handle these two. I think they’re going to need your help with the other fronts.” Scorch nodded and moved off to aid the rest of the group while I held this line, after lobbing a fireball at the damaged tree for good measure.

I shot arrow after arrow into the advancing tree. Each time it screeched and ran harder to get to me, but it was hopeless. My worry wasn’t this tree – I was sure it would fall long before reaching the wall. My worry was the second one. It would be closer before I could start firing on it (as I was busy destroying the first one) and so I’d have to work fast.  The first gulthite finally collapsed into a mass of branches and vines and began decomposing almost instantly. I wasted no time firing on the second monster and soon it was limping and howling as I fired on its knees and hips. 

As it closed, I’m sure it thought “If I can just get to the wall, I’ll destroy you.” Personally I was thinking “If you get close, you’re really going to feel some pain.”

The gulthite slugged across the river and just reached the wall. It was limping badly and bleeding sap from many wounds. The archers on the wall from the town guard had also opened fire and just as the gulthite reached the wall, it could go no further, and collapsed at the base of the wall, vainly clutching at me as it fell. And none too soon, as there was no shortage of trouble at the other gates. 

While I was on the wall, there was even more frenzied fighting elsewhere. Throughout the town, some of the townsfolk suddenly looked ill as if they were a corpse that had been left in the water.  Spikes projected suddenly out of their throats and hands, and they started seeping a pus-like fluid.  They began lashing out at other townsfolk. One man was fleeing and a spike shot out of one of the afflicted people and through the fleeing man’s neck. Dravot struck at a nearby one and fluid gushed out of the wound.

Dravot, Thorkeld, and Aethramyr, all near the middle of town, could feel a tremor as something underground tunneled beneath them. It hadn’t surfaced yet, but it surely would soon. Nearby at the east gate, Valanthe could sense something in the area. It was the size of a cart and while it was invisible, Valanthe could tell it was near.  Large burned areas appeared on the ground and buildings suddenly developed holes as they were eaten through by acid.  Aethramyr threw a dispel magic and Sehanine’s champion got just the right spell, revealing for a moment a glowing reddish cube of some fluid. But the cube was soon consumed in an inky darkness which expanded outward making it still hard to find.  Thorkeld fired an arrow into the blackness but it seemed ineffective.  Dravot made sure to have a daylight spell running to combat the darkness. The living saint shone in the night like a beacon, rallying the town guard to his aid.

The bloated bodies moved towards Dravot, who invoked a flame strike upon some of them. He was saddened to do that to his own people but he did not think they could be saved.  As the flesh was burned away, a small pink colored thing the size of a heart sprung from the chest of one of the victims. It used stringy tentacles to try to spring to another corpse, but the flames struck it down before it could reach it. When the refugees were brought into town, they were checked for the taint of evil or undead, but not everyone could be checked, and some of them must have been infected before the first attack.

The burrowing grew louder and three bulettes burst up onto the streets. They were larger and more vicious than the usual variety, and they oozed acid from the joints of their armor plates.  Aethramyr, Thorkeld and Dravot were now caught between the bulettes towards the center of town and the acidic cube near the gate. Dravot, who had been scanning for undead, suddenly sensed the taint strongly. Thorkeld kept firing at the cube as he pulled back toward the others, trying to rally the defending guardsmen and prevent a rout.

The holy men regrouped and refocused their efforts. The guardsmen were told to hold off the afflicted townsfolk while the other threats were dealt with.  Dravot brought a flame strike down on a bulette and burned it badly.  Some of the flames gushed into the tunnel it just emerged from, and there were hideous screams from within. Something more was down there.  Creatures began skittering out like insects, but they were humanoid with pale white-green skin.  Dravot believed they were wights that had been tainted by acid.

The cube continued to burn through anything in its path.  Bolo had been flying first towards the north gate but then to the east where more help was needed, and had just arrived at the battle. He moved to engage the cube while the forces on the ground held off the bulettes, and let loose a sunbeam at the center of the darkness where the cube was. Scorch flew in having come from the south gate, and attempted to dominate a bulette. It failed but he was determined to get one out of the fight, and a hold monster did the job well.

The town guard and Thorkeld fought a fierce battle with the townsfolk and the beasts controlling them. At least they were not as overmatched as they would have been against the bulette, and they were making progress.  Dravot brought Pelor’s Destruction on the third bulette and it was blasted to dust.  Then he turned the wights, most of the ones that had emerged from the hole were destroyed in Pelor’s light. However more quickly scrambled out to replace them, and from the other two tunnels as well, until a small army of wights stood in town.

Aethramyr had moved to engage one of the bulettes and the blows they traded rang out against each other’s armored shells. Aethramyr moved deftly and the bulette had a time even laying a claw on the paladin, whereas Shatterspike bit hungrily through the shell of the bulette.  Aethramyr had dealt several fierce blows and the bulette was near death. Thorkeld brought his hammer down and the last bulette collapsed into a heap.

And none too soon, since the acidic cube had closed on them.  It swung a long pod at Dravot but fortunately Dravot was able to avoid it.

Screams were coming from the southeast, and Valanthe thought there was another cube in the southeast section of town but was busy with problems where she was. The cubes were a serious threat but more force was coming to bear against them. Bolo fired another sunbeam, and Scorch fired a blast to finish it off.  

The wights were something Dravot knew how to deal with. He took to the air over the tunnels, and glowing with Pelor’s own light, blasted the wights. They hissed and screamed as their undead flesh burned away. Unfortunately it wasn’t enough to kill them, but they were all badly hurt.  The wights swarmed Aethramyr riding Crescent, and he tore apart several of them in clean strokes.  Then Dravot descended amidst the slavering wights, and let off another burst that blasted them all to dust.

And while all this took place, the battle raged on yet another front. Valanthe moved to check the south gate, and found more problems there.  A second wave of troglodytes was approaching, and something more sinister. Two beasts, born of shadow, with writhing tentacles coming from an amorphous mass of blackness. They floated off the ground lifted by two tiny wings. One of them belched out a cone of black gas at a group of soldiers who collapsed instantly.  The other one grew diffuse and suddenly other shadowy forms sprouted from it. It was surely just a mirror image spell, but it was terrifying to the guardsmen watching.

The troglodytes seemed to be giving the shadow beasts a wide berth, not wishing to be killed by the indiscriminate monsters.  One lashed out a tentacle at a guardsman and ripped him in two but also killed the troglodyte who was in the way.  Valanthe was ready for something like this however and pulled a scroll from an ebony case, and read the words that were scrawled in gold on the blackened parchment.  The shadow creatures suddenly stopped, stunned and cut off from the shadow plane and many of their powers.  Valanthe said the shadowblast would leave them stunned for some minutes while we dealt with the other fights. The perfect move at the perfect time.  Scorch arrived from the north gate, and dealt with the second wave of troglodytes in much the same manner as he had the first.  Unfortunately the cone of cold washed over the shadow beasts without effect. Scorch moved off to help Aethramyr and Dravot, but Valanthe heard screaming coming from the east. She moved to find the threat and saw more burned holes in buildings and half dissolved people and sensed another invisible thing in the area. Somehow the thing sensed her, and it swiped at her with a pseudopod, burning her with acid, but also enveloping her and sucking her into the cube.  She quickly decided that she had no wish to be eaten by this creature, and shadow jumped out. I had finished with the gulthites by this time and had flown across town and came over a building to see the invisible cube. I had one more reason to be glad I could see invisible things, and fired at the cube once. I was hoping to glitterdust it next shot so everyone could see it.  Bolo was closing on the cube also but couldn’t see it.  Scorch came in and with luck and a guess, managed to dispel the invisibility.  The cube was not pleased and tried to envelop Scorch but found nothing more than one of his mirror images.  Bolo, Scorch, and I all let loose into the cube, and it lost cohesion and dissolved away.

We quickly moved back to the disabled shadow creatures but they were gone.  There was no way they could have left on their own power, and Scorch believes they were gated out by someone.

The second battle of the day was over, and we were victorious. 

[OOC: Wow. What a battle. Took almost the entire night. We were attacked almost simultaneously on three fronts – north, east, and south.  We came out of it with very little damage also, mostly due to some luck and some solid tactics. The single biggest tide-turner was surely Valanthe’s use of the shadowblast scrolls he had – neutralizing that threat let us cope with the battles we already had running. For the sake of clarity I’ll detail the attacking forces:

North Gate
Two Gulthites (big ol tree golem thingies with a stoneskin-like ablative armor)
40 half-water-elemental troglodytes with twig blight spears

East Gate
Two improved-invisible, displaced, spell immunity-d, flying, unholy aura-d, fifteen-foot-reaching, acidic gelatinous cube thingies that envenlop people. One with a darkness on contingency through some unknown means

South Gate
Two amorphic beasts from the plane of shadow
40 half-water-elemental troglodytes with twig blight spears

Tunneled into town
Three acidic bigger-than-usual bulettes
About 30 acidic wights

Around town
Some number of townsfolk, taken over by these icky things. Apparently they’re called Gut puppets. (Sounds like a grunge band.)

This will make most of the party 18th level.]


----------



## Valanthe the Sleepless

*And then there were three...*

Valanthe finds a secluded rooftop near the Southern gate, and focuses her mind, calling Verilunda to her.  As if she already knows Val's mind, she says that there are others who would be glad to aid her, if she summons them forth, but only someone with Val's talents has the power to breach the gap between
the world of Shadow and this one.  Verilunda watches as she focuses on the  crystal, and waits to see the results.  Val doesn't have to wait long.  There is a sudden rush of energy, and a sound something like a hurricane blasted through a straw, followed by an almost comical 'pop'.

"It's about ferking time, woman!", comes the gruff male voice.  Val looks up to see a stout, thick even, dwarf composed of shadow.  She notes how his shadow form appears different from Verilunda's, until she notices that Verilunda has changed, too.  Both of them look more like black etchings than shadows, more like people than pure blackness, though they fade into darkness as before. "I been waitin' a month, easy, for you to get your sauce boilin'.  Hell, mebbe I can help ya out some."

The dwarf is heavy where Verilunda is light, and rough where she is soft. He sniffs the air, as if trying to find something.  Where Verilunda still appears to wear the combat leathers she wore in life, this fellow instead is dressed in what look like miner's clothes.  He has a mutton-chops, thick beard and moustache, all the more noticable for the lack of hair on his head.  His face has an amused expression on it, despite his abrasive tone.

The now more identifiable Verilunda cocks an eyebrow, "Great.  A dwarf.  Do you have a name, or are we supposed to guess?"

"Heh.  Didn't I mention?  Guess not!  It's Berllden Kimberlite, atcher service.  Former servant what's to known as the ol' Deep Home herself, and up until a month ago, in direct service the Diamond prince himself.  And a damn fine fella he were, too, 'til that shadowy bastard up and took 'im."

"Yah, well, I didn't mean fer you to take it that way.  No need to get all prickly-like, miss!  I just meant I bin waitin fer a while, what that you would give a call, is all.  Been hanging 'round elves too much, you ask me. Getting all polite and fancy-talking."

"Excuse me, but I'm right over here, you know," says Verilunda.  "I CAN hear
you."

"Oh, aye.  What's yer point, 'xactly?", says Berllden.

"Never mind," sighs Verilunda.

"Anywho, you were asking about the Dimaond Prince, eh?  Right fine fellow, if a bit...well, hard, so to speak.  Kinda like his namesake, if you take my meaning, ma'am.  Still and all, a good sort.  Dedicated-like, you know?  But, you were askin' about wha' happened to him."

"Well, see, we was leading an expedition out of Sceadutine, right?  Figured it was a good time, what with the Shadow King pissing his forces to the Prime like beer on Firemeet right?  Well, Prince Diamond, he figures we can take back the Chalice, which is his ole' castle, 'xcepting we didn't, as I'll bet you can guess.  The castle were almost empty... but not all the ways. There were some kinda shadow still there, made Xorns shat diamonds, if you know what I mean.  Woulda killed us all, xcept when he realized he had the Prince right there, so he took him and left us fer dead, sure enough. I think he knew him, cause they was talking in some language I didn't know, but they were both right pissed off, and sure about it."

"Not much more to tell than that.  We gathered everyone up what wasn't dead, and skeedadled on out of there, back to Sceadutine.  Then what I felt the call coming, and so I been waiting."


----------



## Zad

*The Green and the Black Chapter 3*

*The Shadow of Winter - Chapter 3*

OOC Notes:
Exp is 2000 this week. Expect negative numbers next week.

Side note: There was a small map-reading error. Ruun-Khazai is located on hex X5.


This Week’s Adventure:

The attack may have been repelled, but the price still had to be paid. The eastern gate was completely destroyed, and dozens of townsfolk were dead. About two dozen gut puppet parasites were killed, along with their hosts, and then of course there were the casualties they caused. And like the last time, we moved to assess the situation.

Bolo backtracked the Gulthites.  Between tracking the large trees and questioning the local plants, he found the scene of a massive blood sacrifice, where many people were killed. Bolo was horrified by this, and rightly so, but we told him that the creation of all the gulthias horrors involves some amount of blood. 

The nearby grove to Sehanine that Aethramyr had set up almost a year ago had also been razed. It had been done recently, perhaps a week ago, but it was probably not as much damage as they might have liked.  The goal seemed to be to remove it as a potential point of defense. Aethramyr invoked Sehanine’s power and was startled to find thousands of small seed-like creatures blasted and burned suddenly by a cold moonfire.  With their death, the taint of evil was lifted from the grove, and the healing could begin. It would have to wait however.

Rather than send out more troops to scout and have them killed, Valanthe and I took that task. Both of us could move without a trace through the area, and with the help of her two shadow friends (somewhere along the line it seems she has acquired another shadow like Verilunda) we spread out in four directions to find what we could. I soon found a staging area near the pumphouse. No attempt was made to conceal it, and there were tattered clothes and lots of freshly spilled blood.  It was well out of direct visual sight of the city but still close.  In the opposite direction, Valanthe found the bodies of several villagers. They had been harvested – split like fish and their organs removed. The area was unnaturally chilled.

And as each of us slipped unseen through the woods, the winds began to blow.

The second attack was more disturbing than the first in some ways. It represented a great deal of power, but also a great deal of determination on the part of the attacker. Whatever their reason, they wanted to take Brindinford badly. And while we held them back twice now, siege warfare is not our strongest suit.  We cannot remain here defending the town forever – we would need to find a way to stop the attacks. After examining our options, Dravot concluded that our best move would be to find their next attack while they were still preparing it, and attack while they were setting up. Of course the question was still “how”. During this conversation, the topic of the dragons came up, and the lack of contact from the Silverring.  Some of the group felt that we’d been cut off and hung out to dry – feelings I shared. The total lack of contact during recent events was more than just annoying, what with an ancient evil artifact in our custody. I echoed Valanthe’s feeling that we’d been abandoned and need to just deal with things ourselves for now and to hell with what the dragons wanted.

Aethramyr however decided to try another tack.  Since we suspected the Silverring was sleeping, he attempted to walk through the dream worlds and find the slumbering dragon as he dreamt.  He soon came upon a great silver dragon, embracing the sky in his full form.  He was even more majestic than he had been described and was probably more in his full flourish than his actual current form.

And as Aethramyr slipped into a controlled sleep, the winds howled.

The Silverring told Aethramyr that the binder was actually placed in Brindinford for a reason – it was put on the top of a prison to contain . . . something.  Kargoth may be trying to free it. It may be that Chavram has been collecting binders to slow his progress in this.  The prisoners are ancient, fantastically dangerous beings, that took many elder dragons to imprison many years ago.  One of these Primals is caged at the bottom of the catacombs. He indicated we should check that the seal is still intact, but under no circumstances break the seal.

Aethramyr asked about the woman of stone he had seen in his visions.  The Silverring called her The Great Dreamer. She is the head of the Guild of Sleep on the Lendore Isles.  It seems we need to pay her a visit soon.

Then there was the matter of Venn and the theerpart.  The Silverring suggested that a major temple of Pelor might be able to sustain and keep him, and there was one fairly safe on the Lendore Isles. (Our road seems clear now, if we survive the night.) However that is all the Silverring can do – he still sleeps, and cannot control how long his torpor will last.  Our best hope for aid may be the Brazen and some of his allies.  The Cupric was supposed to aid us, and the Silverring seemed disturbed that we had heard nothing from any of the other dragons. (I feel glad I was not there to share in this, otherwise I might have had a harsh word or two for my part on this.)

Aethramyr brought himself into the waking world, and as he did, the snow began to fall. The world turned dark as the snow went from flurry to blizzard in a matter of minutes.  But the snow was not white – it was as black as sable.  Soon, the black snow covered the town, piling up against buildings driven by the harsh winds.

The snow seemed to be tainted with shadow, and it had a tiny touch of evil in every flake that fell. Bolo was horrifed as the town was covered in blackness. He tried to take control of the weather himself, but he was unable to overcome the dark power that drove this storm.  But he was able to commune with nature and knew that a powerful evil force was some two miles to the east of town.

This must be the preparation for another attack. And now we knew where the attacker was. But we were paralyzed.  The winds were fierce – you couldn’t even walk around outdoors. And if you were to fly, you would be buffeted about.  

The problem took us nearly an hour to find a way around. And in that time, a foot of black snow had falled on Brindinford. We were tempted to hole up and wait, but we wanted to strike while we thought we were unexpected. Bolo took the shape of a massive elk, and we hooked a sleigh to him.  Meanwhile Crescent and Thorkeld’s celestial lion, due to their size, were able to move through the winds. So with some of us on the mounts and others in the sleigh, we set off to find the enemy.

Visibility was nearly nothing, and Aethramyr could not sense any evil due to the tainted snow obscuring everything.  I tried my best but could see nothing beyond ten paces away. Fortunately Bolo had a general sense of where the enemy was, and it turned out to be enough for them to find us.

Covered in the back of the sleigh, I could barely make out the howling over the blasting wind.  But then I heard it again. Wolves of some kind. Close.  Bolo picked up their scent just as they closed in. There were four of them, more like a winter wolf than a normal animal.  It almost seemed they spoke to each other as they looked at us with white, lidless eyes. Their teeth were like small daggers of ice and they were intent on wetting them with our blood.

One charged the sleigh and bit down hard, and inky blackness spread out over everything.  I simply waited – Dravot would deal with this quickly enough, and a moment later the blackness faded out as the words of Dravot’s spell cut across the wind.  

The wolves were not much of a threat it turned out.  We disposed of them fairly quickly and without major injury. Scorch finally was able to dominate something and had full control of one of the wolves.  It was intelligent and spoke the common tongue. And it told us much of its former master.

The wolves were sent to soften us up, and to make it appear that their master was weak when in fact he is waiting for us.  The wolves were expected to die.  It knew the name of our enemy – GlaceRage.  Dravot knew the name – it was one of Kargoth’s lieutenants.  He barely managed to recall seeing the name in one of the older texts on the undead. The book called him a “winter wight” but Dravot could recall no more information about the creature.

We resumed our push through the black snow, lead by the wolf.  As we got closer, the winds eased slightly, and we could see a bit farther.  We were close now, and began casting spells to prepare.

Soon we would face the most evil and powerful thing we have fought in our lives. 

[It was getting late-ish and the battle would be a big one, so we stopped here for this session.  Next time, we roll initiative and enter our first epic-level encounter. In case you’re wondering, no we are not epic level yet. The party is 18th level.  I don’t think our chances look good for surviving this.]


----------



## WizarDru

Fear not!  Zad just sent an e-mail with some questions about one of the custom magic items during our session.  That's usually a sign that he's working on the write-up as we speak.

To whet your appetite, here's the object in question:


_*Greater Ring Gates of Orcus*

These always come in pairs-two iron rings, each about 56 inches in diameter. The rings must be within 1000 miles of each other to function. Whatever is put through one ring comes out the other, and up to 250 pounds of living material can be transferred each day or up to 2500 pounds of unliving material (Objects only partially pushed through do not count.) For the purposes of this device, an undead creature is considered unliving material.  This useful device allows for instantaneous transport of items, messages, and even attacks. A character can reach through to grab things near the other ring, or even stab a weapon through if so desired. Alternatively, a character could stick his head through to look around. A spellcaster could even cast a spell through a ring gate. A Small character can make an Escape Artist check (DC 13) to slip through. Creatures of Tiny, Diminutive, or Fine size can pass through easily. Each ring has a “entry side” and an “exit side,” both marked with appropriate symbols.

*Caster Level: 20th; Prerequisites: Craft Wondrous Item, gate; Market Price: 80,000 gp; Weight: 1 lb. each*_


----------



## Zad

*The Shadow of Winter Chapter 4*

*The Shadow of Winter - Chapter 4 *

OOC Notes:
Exp is 4885.

I have never seen an entire room of d20’s abandon people like ours did.

Loot:
The Staff of Eringlin (staff of life, 50 charges)
Ring of protection +4
Ring of Spell Storing (currently empty)
Scarab of Protection
Two gilded brass hoops:

Greater Ring Gates of Orcus

These always come in pairs-two iron rings, each about 56 inches in diameter. The rings must be within 1000 miles of each other to function. Whatever is put through one ring comes out the other, and up to 250 pounds of living material can be transferred each day or up to 2500 pounds of unliving material (Objects only partially pushed through do not count.) For the purposes of this device, an undead creature is considered unliving material.
This useful device allows for instantaneous transport of items, messages, and even attacks. A character can reach through to grab things near the other ring, or even stab a weapon through if so desired. Alternatively, a character could stick his head through to look around. A spellcaster could even cast a spell through a ring gate. A Small character can make an Escape Artist check (DC 13) to slip through. Creatures of Tiny, Diminutive, or Fine
size can pass through easily. Each ring has a "entry side" and an "exit side," both marked with appropriate symbols.


*This Week’s Adventure:*

As soon as the winds began breaking, we knew we were getting close, and began layering on every protective spell we could think of. For my part, I was just glad that I could get back into the air again. After the spells were done, we advanced further into a field next to a farmhouse. 

And almost by design, the wind seemed to ease again, and through the black snow we could see him. A creature armored in solid ice, its skeleton visible beneath. It moved deliberately and slowly but with an incredible speed, as if it was slowing itself purposefully but it still left blurs as it moved. In its body were dark expanses that seemed to draw in the light and feed on it, casting off reflections like the spent husk of a fruit.  Around its head was a ring of black flame, dancing and flickering in the wind. The arms ended in long talons of black ice, licks of black flame playing across them. And we could feel its hunger – it craved our heat. It stood there, just waiting, mocking, and laughing.  “Sweet flesssshlings…” its voice cracked across the wind “…knew you would come. Feed me with your warmth. You cannot harm me, but you can feeeeed me.”

As it stared at us, a chill settled in my heart. I’ve fought dragons and druids and twisted creations and demons. But this… this was different. It was unlike anything we had heard of, let alone faced. And a dark voice inside me said that it would take at least one of our lives before it fell, if at all.  Fortunately I don’t listen to that voice very much, and instead thought more about the tactics – a gift of the Hateful Wars. If this thing proved too much for us, then we would need to withdraw and quickly, and I kept that very high in my mind.  And there was one other small ray of hope…

However fast it was, it wasn’t as fast as me. I smirked thinking about how many other creatures with that confidence we have destroyed, and tried hard to believe in it. I released five arrows before the creature could do any more. Enchanted arrows that would have punched deep into any protected creature, these shots just bounced off the icy armor. And Glacerage hissed and smiled. 

[OOC: Ok. There’s something you have to understand about this game – each of us have their respective strengths. Kayleigh’s is that she *will* hit, and she will do a lot of damage. Her usual round of fire is +40/+40/+35/+30/+25 and it’s the running joke that the numbers are usually so high it’s not worth checking. 

But not today. On 5 d20’s I rolled two 4’s, two 3’s and a 2.  Unknown to us, this was the indicator of how the entire night would be. You have never seen a group of people roll suck like we did that night. All night long. Attack rolls, SR, you name it, we couldn’t roll above an 8. It was very disheartening.]

I had one more shot to make thanks to the Mass Haste, and I aimed it carefully. The shot hit GlaceRage in the throat, but the flaming arrow shattered on the icy armor, a small hiss and crack the only lasting effect.

GlaceRage just laughed and tore two handfuls of black ice from the ground. The ice stretched like taffy in his hands and he hurled the ice at us and it stretched into a dome of black ice covering Aethramyr Thorkeld and Bolo. Scorch and Valanthe, both invisible, were outside the dome. GlaceRage then charged at Dravot, his next intention clear.

Valanthe conjured up a thoqqua, hoping the heat would help. Scorch tossed an exploratory fireball, hoping to test the effect as well as clear a hole in the wall of ice.  The wall was badly weakened, but GlaceRage raised a lazy hand and the blast just rolled around him. He was immune to the spell. Thorkeld spurred his lion forward and brought his hammer into the wall hard and the ice shattered away. Bolo conjured an elder fire elemental which moved to swat at GlaceRage but even the quick elemental couldn’t grasp the wight. Aethramyr charged from the ice dome on Crescent and tried a dispel magic but failed. As he moved closer, the cold surrounding GlaceRage hit him like a hammer.  Scorch ordered his dominated wolf into the fray but it just snapped ineffectually at the wight. Dravot considered his options and tried a dispel which also failed, and then let loose a sunbeam but it just scattered off the ice armor.

[At this time we opened the envelope containing Wizardru’s first round spell predictions. He missed wildly.]

Hoping to get better results, I shifted to firing multiple arrows per draw, and fired two volleys at GlaceRage but none of them could find their target. This was not a good sign. The wight hissed and slashed at Dravot and the wolf. The wight impacted on Dravot’s fire shield and left a wound on Dravot. Where the wounds opened on the dark wolf, black fire – blightfire - played on the beast and it whimpered, its energy being sucked away. As the wounds opened on the wolf, GlaceRage fed and what little damage may have been done faded.  But the wolf did not have Pelor’s grace – as the wounds opened on Dravot and the fire hit, it was as quickly quenched as light played out and snuffed the flame, and Dravot was unaffected by the blightfire. Scorch tried a Bigby’s hand, but GlaceRage hissed at the hand and it just fell back from him. Thorkeld closed on the wight and made contact but it seemed had little direct effect. Bolo tried to cast fire seeds but this too was defeated by GlaceRage. Aethramyr managed to land one solid blow but this was the most hopeful thing we’d seen so far. Nothing else so far had any noticeable effect. Dravot loosed two sunbeams but neither one had any result.  

At this point I began considering retreat more highly. I had the disturbing feeling that GlaceRage was just toying with us, and had yet to even really try. I fired two more volleys, and one of them landed. The arrows were largely ignored but the flames sent up small spurts of steam – at least it was something, but I worried it was not enough. 

GlaceRage still seemed amused by the little fleshthings, and with deliberate dismissal of us, turned and clawed at the Bigby’s hand. Its claws tore through the hand and in a flash the spell dissipated. I think it was hoping we’d run after seeing this. (And believe me I considered it.)

We continued pressing the attack on GlaceRage but to little avail.  Blades and spells were both turned aside. Bolo shifted to the form of a gold dragon and slashed a claw out and found some purchase but again, the wound was small.  Aethramyr tried to lay hands on the wight, but it resisted his efforts as easily as the others. 

[The bad rolls continue – SR rolls keep failing, and melee attacks are barely landing.]

GlaceRage, who was by now completely surrounded by all manner of man and summoned creature, dimension door’ed a short distance away. Perhaps he wanted to try another wall of ice to amuse himself more. But then the tide of fortune turned. 

Scorch fired a sickly green ray straight at the wight’s chest. GlaceRage sneered with contempt, certain it would fail as everything else had. The beam did waver for a moment, but then sank into the icy flesh of the winter wight, and in slow motion the green light spread across his body, and left nothing behind but dust. GlaceRage shrieked with rage as the light rolled across him, and a moment later, he was destroyed. All that was left was his howl on the wind.

The wolf Scorch had dominated looked terrible – it could barely stand and it looked at Scorch, about to ask for something. But then it collapsed onto the snow, and its flesh sank into its bones as licks of black fire played across the fur. I whispered a prayer to Corellian that it wasn’t any of us.

The storm’s master was broken, and so too followed the storm. Bolo was able to reestablish control of the weather, and let a natural snowfall run its course.  As the snow eased, Valanthe and I could make out something near some haystacks piled next to the barn nearby. We found two gilded brass hoops, four feet in diameter. I’m still not sure what they are.  Nearby we found a set of holy relics – Dravot said that the men on this farm were priests of Pelor fled from Hexpools and they must have carried these artifacts with them. There was a staff – The Staff of Eringlin – it had the power to heal and raise the dead. With it were some other smaller treasures that we collected carefully.

Dravot and Scorch made provisions to secure the dust of the winter wight – we were fearful that even the dust could be a potent weapon. Once that was done, we returned to Brindinford, hopeful that we had broken the force behind these attacks.

While we were gone, the town had been assaulted by more black winter wolves. There were not signs of a breach – apparently the defenders had held out.  But on the parapets was a thin, gaunt fellow. He was very pale and was wearing rags. Dravot and Aethramyr sensed both evil and undead from him. He was half sitting, leaning against a half spear. He looked like he might have in life but he was clearly not alive.  The guards in the area were aware of him but avoiding him, which was somewhat odd. However there was no mistake as to his nature, and I didn’t want an ambush. I asked if anyone knew why I shouldn’t start firing, and neither Dravot nor Aethramyr could find reason not to. I had drawn an arrow and was ready to fire when Aethramyr said to hold – the man had changed somehow. His spear was now a mace, and he was stocky with facial hair. He was still undead but no longer evil. I started hard at him and raised an eyebrow, but lowered my bow, and we went to see what this thing was.

When approached, he claimed to be from the Temple of Wee Jas, sent to aid the town.  He was horribly polite, and after our last battle, horribly lucky I thought that he shifted when he did. Dravot seemed completely satisfied with his explanation and so therefore it would have to do. While they conversed another man came from a nearby building – he was quite tall and completely bald. His skin was covered in tattoos and carvings, and he seems to be steaming in the cold snow. With him was an apprentice who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but where he was.  Scorch was the one who started at seeing this man, and immediately took him off to the side and spoke to him at length.  If there was an explanation, I never heard it.

Most of us accompanied Dravot as he met with the followers of Wee Jas. The elder looked like a penitent monk, wearing a skull cap made from an actual skull.  The temple was attacked as well, but the fools sent undead against the worshippers of Wee Jas. However this attack delayed them from coming to the aid of the town. The clerics arrived just before the attack of the winter wolves and were likely instrumental in the defeat of the wolves. They thought it was Kargoth’s doing. 

I lost track of the conversation after this, as it was largely Dravot’s matter to tend to and I did not wish to interfere. I was surprised to hear that the priests offered a fair sum of cash for the remains of the wight. They were interested in them for study and would be content with whatever preparations were needed to remove their potency. 

We separated to check on various matters including the defense of the town. We thought the attack was over but couldn’t be sure. There was also the matter of the sealed primal creature below. Bolo communed with nature, seeking any other powerful attackers. He didn’t find any but did find that there were more bulettes, dead in tunnels under the city.  

There was still the matter of Venn nagging at me. Dravot had prepared a sending and we had hoped to contact one of the Circle of Eight. We settled on Mordenkainen as he had separated the theerparts initially. Dravot sent “We posses a theerpart. Needs better safeguarding. Please advise.”

The reply was less than we might have hoped for: “Who is this? I’m busy right now doing AAAAARRRGGGG.” So much for any aid there. 

Fine. So be it. If the circle is indifferent, and the dragons as well, then to hell with them both. I made a mental note to dismiss the idea of working with the circle in the future.

We decided to check on the seal below and determine the situation there. Dravot’s brother Gerrin came along and we navigated quickly through the family crypts, going ever further downward. Soon we were past areas where either of them was familiar, but we had little trouble finding the way, knowing what we were looking for. There was a passage that was carefully hidden and behind it was a long spiral staircase going downward. It was covered in symbols – that of Pelor, Sehanine and Heironious alternating down the entire length. A corridor at the bottom let out into a small room with a mirror spanning the length of the wall – some kind of wall of force.

Bolo, unable to resist investigating until Valanthe had finished her examination, turned into an earth elemental and stepped into the wall. There was a quick flash of light and Bolo was gone.  Valanthe was more than a bit frustrated with him, and I suspect was hoping he wasn’t dead so she could get good and mad at him later.  We heard from him quickly – apparently he had been plane shifted to the Beastlands. 

Valanthe did some careful examinations of the wall and area. We suspected that perhaps it would take three – a follower of Sehanine, Pelor and Heironius to lower the wall. But we weren’t sure we could raise it again. One thing was clear – the seal was apparently intact, and that’s all we wanted to check.  We withdrew from the crypt without further incident.

Scorch and I made a quick trip to the Beastlands to retrieve our wayward druid while Valanthe and Aethramyr investigated the tunnels made by the bulettes. There were many criss-crossing tunnels as the beasts apparently searched for something. (Under who’s direction? Are they smart enough to do this themselves?)  At the bottom they found a dead bulette. There was no sign of physical violence to cause its death and it was turned around in the passage it had been digging.  Behind the earholes was the symbol of orcus.  It seems to have died from a plague or advanced disease. Searching other tunnels they found two more dead bulettes in much the same state.

Just after Scorch and I returned with Bolo, the guards began yelling out. From the sky to the west there were two dragons heading for town. When I rose in the air, I could see they were bronze and I eased. But the beats were badly hurt, flying erratically and having trouble. They both overshot the town and crashed into the riverside and lay breathing heavily.  We ran out quickly and Dravot and Bolo healed each of them.  They were covered in twigs and thorns and they had clearly seen some battle with Gulthias horrors. 

Once healed they quickly recovered their wits. One of them was the Brazen and shifted to a more compact form.  He apologized for not arriving sooner but they had engaged a force of 20 gulthites on the march some 300 miles away.  

He had a great deal to say so we moved somewhere more private. When we were alone, he apologized for the silence of the dragons. He verified that we had been uncontacted for some three or four weeks and was shocked by this and very apologetic.  He asked about Venn and the “item” and we were unsure if it was safe, but Bolo’s parents were alive and well in Ruun Khazai, and we therefore assumed for now that nothing had attacked while we were in Brindinford. 

Even though he had asked already, the Brazen asked again if we had been contacted by the new Gilden.  We told him no, we have yet to hear from him and were surprised there was a new Gilden.  The Brazen indicated that it seems that the new Gilden does not share the same faith in us that Lord Gelban had. He is not as loose about things.  The Brazen asked our indulgence and if we could give him a day he would find a way to deal with the theerpart.  My thought was that given a day, we could deal with it ourselves, but no matter.

Dravot asked for more information on the political situation with the dragons.  The Brazen was more forthcoming than anyone had been so far about these matters. While the Cupric holds no more love for me than I for him, the brazen assured us that he does try to do what’s best for us. But while the Cupric had Lord Gelban’s ear, apparently nobody has the new Gilden’s ear.  And it seems the new Gilden has decided to wait.

Then there is the Silverring. None of the silvers would dream of removing him but the frequent torpor’s due to his age are inconvenient at times. And since all the council needs to agree, it tends to delay action when the Silverring is not there. The Brazen hinted that he has taken some actions and made some covert exceptions but he cannot take overt action without sanction.  

The Greyhawk dragons were mentioned in the discussion, and the Brazen wasn’t sure what to make of them. He suspects they are working to keep the peace but he was not totally sure.  There are probably not as many as you might think, but they are very good at making appearances.  

Meanwhile the chromatic dragons are badly fractured. This is the only reason open warfare has not continued among the dragons.  The reds still maintain their dominance and the abyssal dragons have taken the metallic’s place on their little kangaroo court. But their ultimate plan is still unknown.  The blacks and greens have allied with Orcus, which was hardly a surprise. Chavram, oddly, has not made overtures towards any of the dragons. On the contrary, he’s leading a military action to liberate Geoff from the giants, and the whites have formed a loose alliance with those giants.  The giants are being pushed back, in part due to a third human army lead by the Duke of Geoff.  

On the front of the Scarlet Brotherhood, they believe that both factions – the black and scarlet – have been heading west. Specifically, he said “…west, towards your lands, Princess,” nodding at Zera. She got a very uncomfortable look suddenly and it was clear the Brazen said more than he should have.  The dragons do not have many agents in the west.

We reported to him that the seal below did seem to be intact and mentioned the bulettes. He indicated that the primal contained below is the plague primal, and the bulettes got too close. The tunnels under the city however should be sealed, and Bolo saw to that matter.  The binder was placed here as a honeypot to distract whoever might come looking.  The other primals are probably placed under other binders, provided the binder was not moved.  This lead us around to the mark of fire, and other marks.  The mark connects us to the primal’s base power and different primals have different marks.  To be blessed with a mark is to have a sampling of that power.  For us, it means we can grow beyond our ken.  Air is a similar mark but with a more intellectual bent. There are likely some 8 or 9 marks total.

Lastly, the Brazen said he could stay a half day at most, and there was much to do. But he gave us his most firm personal assurance that we would not be left out in the cold again.  He was very distressed by the way we had been abandoned. At that point we adjourned and would continue discussions later.

Everyone moved in separate directions but I stayed in the parlor for a time, alone.  In fact, I had been rather distant during the entire discussion. I had previously been very open in my displeasure about being ignored by the dragons, but said little during this discussion about it. It just didn’t seem to matter somehow. The fight with GlaceRage, and the dragons and everything else was slowly adding up to something I had been trying not to face. And I was slowly coming to realize what it was.

When these adventures began, we were tools. Pawns of the dragons. We were told what to do and sent forth to do it. But over time we’ve become something else. We are now a force unto ourselves. We can shape change as we see fit and impact events around us in very significant ways. The disturbing part about this is the responsibility that comes with this. As we grow and become capable of flying on our own, so too we loose the protection and purpose given to us by those who raised us. We have to step into the world and make our own choices. We’ve always had our own will in things, true, but we’ve always done as asked too. 

The dragons had chosen to ignore us lately, and I was very annoyed at that. But now I’m wondering if this is not just an indication that we need to set our own direction. It may be for good or ill, but perhaps it’s time we chose for ourselves what to tackle next, rather than waiting for a wyrm to tell us, and becoming miffed when they say nothing.

I’m not sure how the wyrms would feel about this. Maybe it’s a breach of trust; in these trying times they left us without support and information, and hence lost some loyalty. But it may be something more than that. Perhaps now they need to engage us more as equals than as servants. I certainly don’t think we’re equal to these great wyrms, but there can be no denying that we are not the same elves and humans sent to retrieve a fruit.

I don’t know what to think any more. The changes in the dragons’ politics are so profound that I don’t feel I know them any more, nor the purposes they would set us to. Perhaps them turning from us is a good thing. I don’t know. The Brazen is clearly sincere in his regret. I suppose we shall see what  happens next.

[I was rushed on the ending - not sure I'm happy with it. Maybe I'll edit later]


----------



## Zad

> Looking at a Winterwight's stats .... eeesh. Talk about nasty little things. I don't think I even noticed HD or damage. Just the blightfire ability ... *shudder*
> 
> Be glad you all survived.




Oh believe me, I am.  Watching that thing tear apart the Bigby's hand in one round made it clear that it could put a lot of hurt on people, and the con drain from the blightfire was just as scary.  At the start of the fight, it said that we couldn't hurt it, and it was pretty much right. Probably the only thing that saved us was its confidence, as it toyed with us for a few rounds and then suddenly Scorch got lucky with that disintegrate.



> Anyway, this story hour is one of my favorites for showing how the characters have gone from the little peons to the big shots (or at least some of them.)




The development of the characters has been one of the best parts really. Let's review:

*Aethramyr:* The sole survivor of a destroyed village, raised by humans in a monastery to Pelor for his early life, giving him his lawful nature, uncharacteristic for an elf. 

He is the chosen of Sehanine. She has not revealed her purpose to him, but the day will come I'm sure. He has already acted directly on behalf of Pelor, settling a debt between the two dieties.  If we take a trip to the Lendore Isles (as we are discussing) I suspect a lot more will bubble up on this front. But already Aethramyr is chosen of his goddess, and unique in his talents among her servants.

On an out-of-character note, Aethramyr's player has done a fascinating job being a paladin. It's not the lawful-good-goody-two-shoes type of thing we've come to characterize as a paladin. He doesn't _try_ to be a paladin or _act_ like a paladin; he just is.

*Bolo:* Being newer to the campaign, we didn't know Bolo way-back-when. But even in this short time, he's gone from being just another druid to one who served and defended the Green, and indeed is becoming one with the Green in a way few do. He has not led the hardened adventurer life, and still makes a few... missteps from that, but brings a sense of wonder that the rest of us lost a while ago. (Mostly because we were too busy fighting for our lives to be in awe.  )

*Dravot:* The living saint Dravot is certainly has the most renown and fame among the group, being universally known in the Church of Pelor as well as a temporal political power. He has acted directly in service to Pelor and this too is widely known (due to the vision broadcast after the defeat of the Egg of Coot.)  He and Aethramyr are the two public faces on the group generally speaking, depending on who we are  interacting with. Dravot has overcome his crisis of faith and come out of the darkness, and now basks in the full glory of Pelor.

*Scorch:* Scorch is probably, personality-wise, the most unchanged of the group. He's still a power hungry mage, furtive and cranky. Of course recently the brou-ha-ha within the guild has put him in a position of apparent power and responsibility, and that seems to make him rather uncomfortable. Scorch has always mainly worried about himself, and he's ill at ease with this responsibility.  

On the other hand, he's come into his full power, and pound for pound brings more raw power to the battle than any other group member.  (And he no longer recklessly charges into combat with a stick.) 

Scorch's player always impresses me with his spell loadout - he always seems to have a great mix available and makes great use of metamagic feats.

*Valanthe:* Literally and figuratively, Valanthe is always the one in the shadows. She has avoided the notice that all the rest have gained to one degree or another. Valanthe is very very good at what she does, which is good for us since it usually involves very unpleasant things.

Valanthe however has not avoided _all_ notice. The turmoil and politics that is taking place on the Shadow Plane continues, and I have no doubt that there are many powerful beings with her name on their lips. She is a wildcard that could seriously disrupt their plans. Valanthe seems hesitant to get embroiled in this conflict, instead she has been skirting around the edges of it, waitin for the right moment. Somewhat like Scorch, she seems slightly uncomfortable knowing that she will probably play a key role in whatever comes.

In a tactical sense, Valanthe's player has an amazing ability to home in on the strangest things. Things I would never think to be looking for she often finds in the middle of a full melee, and it ends up being used to great effect.

*Kayleigh:* Within elven society, Kayleigh has gone a long way. From a simple archer to becoming an Elven Champion. She has access to the highest levels of the royal court, and has a habit of bringing back news that comes from no other sources.  For a long time she was uncomfortable with all the rapid changes, as you might expect for an elf. But lately she is settling more into her role and accepting it.  On her mind more recently is the growing power of the group as a whole - they are changing from becoming a tool of someone else's will into a full fledged force unto themselves. This is neither good nor bad in her eyes, but it is a serious change.


Each character can probably be considered a paragon in their respective field or society, carrying a great deal of power and respect. Not too shabby for a bunch of fruit fetchers.


----------



## WizarDru

So, then: the DM's analysis of the final engagement of the Battle of Brindinford.

I had wondered on and off for the previous two sessions what to do about GlaceRage.  If you've seen his actual stats, you know what I mean.  He's got (well, _had_) SR34, 200+ hit points and an AC of 46.  If he does a Full Attack, he does 2d8+21 (x2), 1d8+21 and blightfire damage (not to mention an additional +1d6 on criticals)..and if both claw attacks are on one target, he can Rend for 8d8+31.  What does blightfire do?  Why if you don't make a DC35 Fort save, you lose 4 CON, and GR would get 10 hit points back.  Oh, and then there was the Cold Aura.  Do the math.  On average, that mean that Aethramyr is the only one who stands a better than 50% chance of still standing up to his total fury.  Did I mention he moves at 60'? and can DimDoor at will?  Yeah.

Now, had I metagamed this (or if we were playing hackmaster), I could have fairly easily killed two, maybe three players fairly easily.  But, as it was, GR was being somewhat cocky, and for most of the combat, he had good reason.  He had several targets left, and most of them were sources of health to him, not pain.  He was planning on sharing the luv, so to speak, via the blightfire.  If Scorch's disintegrate hadn't succeeded, Aethramyr most likely would have gone down next round (HE NEEDS KILLIN).  He did over 157 points of damage to the Bigby's hand in the previous round.  Most of the combat was failure to hurt or cast at him.  

In essence, the Meepites took their chances, but given that they should normally be facing CR 19 challenges at this point, anyhow, this wasn't beyond the pale for them.  Tough, but winnable.  Had the dice gone differently, maybe not.  Not for the first time, though, the DM questions if he's using his monsters properly.  An issue I do have with high-level play is the all-or-nothing factor of the battles: to wit, at 3rd level, you get hurt, you fight on, and you probably win.  At 19th level, you save or die, or fight beasts that may kill you in one round.  I may underplay my creatures for that very reason.  The Meepites may be very close to embarking on a traditional dungeon crawl soon, the first true crawl I'll have run under my devisement all campaign long (as opposed to using WoTC's modules).  I'll be curious how it plays out, if the choose that route.

*Big Rules Question of the Night:* What happens if you fail to overcome a creature's SR while casting Bigby's Crushing Hand? 
*WizarDru's answer:* it just hangs around, unable to acquire it's target.  You can use a standard action to try and acquire the target, just as if you were intentionally switching one, per the Interposing Hand spell description...but you need to try and overcome the creature's SR again.  Wash, rinse and repeat if you fail again.

Concerning the predictions:  well, the situation changed the possibilities, and I guessed about both Dravot and Bolo without knowing their memorized spells.  Scorch did cast the spell I expected, he just waited a round to do it, and I may have reminded him to.  I predicted he'd cast Bigby's Crushing Hand...instead he cast Dimension Door and then Fireball to free the rest of the party.  I expected Bolo to cast Elemental Swarm...instead he used a Sumon Nature's Ally VIII to get an elder Fire Elemental.  I expected Dravot to use Greater Planar Ally, but he chose, isntead to try and do a dispel and a sunbeam.  Since GlaceRage had only one dispellable spell running (Spell Immunity: Fireball), it wasn't really that efficient, but there was no way that the Meepites could have known that, without cracking open the ELH to find out it's powers.   In short, no Egg for me, but Scorch won an Egg for his victory over GlaceRage.

Here's the actual text of the predicitons:

*DM’s prediction de la Scorcho!*

Using my DM Super powers, I predict that Scorch will cast the following spell on Round 1 of the party’s battle with the eponymous GlaceRage, Winter Wight and Bon Vivant of Rauxes.

*Bigby’s Crushing Hand!* _(Up the Fist!)_  -  Why?  Because it’s one of his heaviest hitters, and it’s both offensive and defensive at the same time.  AND because he’s never cast it before, and he’s been aching to.  Equally important is the fact that it isn’t vulnerable to GR’s SR, so it won’t fail.  

Alternate: A less likely, but still plausible possibility is the Maze, Maze, Go Away option.  No SR, and it lets the party set up for the smackdown.  However, it’s not as satisfying, and given that the party is ignorant of how intelligent GR is, it’s a gamble of how much time that might buy them.  [that, and the fact that he might have some other ability to resist it].

Why he won’t cast Meteor Swarm or a MX/EM Fireball:  Too hard to control in a such a low-scale tactical situation, without giving GR a chance to act first, and they have no defensive benefit.  On round two, maybe, but not round one.

*DM’s prediction de la Bolo!*

Using my DM Super powers, I predict that Bolo will cast the following spell on Round 1 of the party’s battle with the eponymous GlaceRage, Winter Wight and Bon Vivant of Rauxes.

*Fire Storm!* _(Up the Flame!)_  -  Let’s face facts, Bolo’s crazier than a bed bug.  This is one of his best whammies, and at somewhere around 60 points of fire damage, he’ll prolly gamble that he can target GR before the party reaches him, beat GRs SR and keep it off of most of the party.  But my unfamiliarity with Druids, and Bolo’s inherint wiliness means I can’t be sure. 

Alternate: The incredibly powerful, but possibly useless against GR: Elemental Swarm!  No fear of SR, and lots of temporary grunts (most likely fire elementals) to do the “nature nasty” all over his wintry butt.  But I think Bolo will save this for a ‘break glass’ kind of situation, just like Mass Heal.


*DM’s prediction de la Dravot!*

_(Note that the silent ‘T’ lets me keep a pattern!)_ Using my DM Super powers, I predict that Bolo will cast the following spell on Round 1 of the party’s battle with the eponymous GlaceRage, Winter Wight and Bon Vivant of Rauxes.

This all is depending on the nature of pre-buffs, and with the assumption that Dravot only has access to 8th-level spells.  

*Greater Planar Ally! (Up the Sun!)  -  This makes the assumption that Holy Aura was a buff spell, as it would be an automatic first cast, otherwise.  SPA meets the same criterion as all the rest: dual nature of protective and defensive, additional muscle and no vulnerability to GR’s SR.  Having a Solar to help out and cast healing spells is a Good Thing ™.  Anti-magic field is too much of a double-edged sword, here, and most of the high-level cleric spells are…well, unimpressive, being most variations on the Holy Aura theme.  Summon Monster VIII is about the same, here, technically.

Alternate:  Dimensional Anchor.  Put quite simply, this is a ‘take one for the team’ kind of spell that commits GR to the battle as much as the party.  No one wants another Cathezar…after all, they still haven’t paid her banished ass back yet.*


----------



## Tantra

*ShatterSpike*

ShatterSpike, Currently:

+3 weapon.
Keen
Bane: Evil Outsiders
Holy

Special Abilities:
"Imbue" the weapon: Spend a turning Check to add Charisma bonus to Hit and Damage. (Normal rules applying here; weapon cannot go above +5) For a number of rounds equal to the max hitdice effected by the turning check (which at this point cant be lower than something like 14 rounds, so generally a non issue)

Spend a turning Check To have it cast Bless as the spell.

Spend a turning Check To have it cast Cure Serious Wounds.



ShatterSpike is normally a LongSword. Because of the character concept I had for Aethramyr, A greatsword works better. Dru allowed it so that spending a turning check will make the longsword a greatsword for Hours X Level, so it's pretty much a greatsword from now on. 



When the Paladin who wields 'spike reaches 20th lvl, it becomes a +5 holy avenger. 

Shatterspike is one of 9 blades, one for each alignment. The blades are Elven forged, and made out of a Vitasis (sp?) crystal, much like the gems that Valenthe carries.  Another blade was (we hope) destroyed at the first Battle at Bryndinford. Numbers 3 through 9 are MIA, Presumed hiding in the recessis of the Dru-m's  Brain.

Aethramyr as a side project is researching their creation, With the hope of revivng the Art of smithing these blades, most likely to a lesser degree.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*Bolo gets a Dog!*

The story of Tailcatcher.

The big russet colored dog sat, tongue lolling from his mouth next to Bolo. Aethramyr stood looking at the two of them with a mix of amusement and curiosity on his dashing elfin face. “You got him where?” Asked the Paladin.
Reaching up to scratch Tailcatcher behind the ear, Bolo replied, “Well remember when I went into the wall of the chamber under Brindenford? I was teleported to the Beast lands.” Bolo’s mind wandered back to the time ….

There was a flash of light and the druid in the form of an earth elemental found himself plummeting from a great height. He switched forms to that of a merlin hawk and regained his control. Soaring over the verdant plains he realized that he was in the beast lands. Bolo thought to see his mistress, the Lady of the woods herself, Ehlonna. He started to fly in the direction of her grove when he was besieged by a huge Roc. Thinking quickly he made for the trees and was about to enter the grove when a lovely young Halfling woman stopped him. “SharpLeaf!” she called out using Bolo’s Druid name, “She is not to be disturbed. Come and sit with me a while.” Bolo wheeled around and alighted on a lounge of green moss. Assuming his Halfling form Bolo sat on the lounge and asked, “Hello, You know me but I’m a bit at a loss. Who are you?” He said as another Halfling woman brought him nectar. 
“I’m Po. The great forest Lady wishes you to once again perform the ritual of creation. I know that you are not interested in women but she has deemed it your responsibility to keep your bloodline flowing and an heir off the prime will help to insure that. Geo, your son, is alive and well so fear not for his safety.” 
Bolo looked at her and thought to himself “This is strange. What is so special about the Brandybuck blood line?” Looking in her eyes he said, “I accept my duty to the great lady.” And reached for Po.

An hour later Bolo was wandering the outer-grove and wandered upon a big dog. The dog was a St. Cuthbert and all russet colored. With huge amber/brown eyes. Bolo knew at once this was one of the Legendary animals he had hoped to meet at some point in his journey. The dog was of all things chasing its tail. Bolo stepped within a few feet of the dog and using the charm in his Torc or Animal Speech introduced himself.
“I’m chasing my tail today.” The happy dog said. “I’m waiting for my new friend to come but until they do I’ll just chase my tail.”
Bolo giggled like a schoolgirl. “I can see that. Do you know who your friend is? Maybe I can help you find him or her.”  The shaggy dog just stopped and looked at Bolo. He then started spinning even faster, trying to catch his tail with a ferocity Bolo would not have thought possible of this sweet puppy. “I was told that I could catch my tail around my new friend. It doesn’t seem to be you.” Said the dog. Bolo was a little taken aback as he was sure the dog awaited him just as he had awaited taking a companion. Bolo had long ago decided not to take a companion as a way to devotion to himself and his connection to the green. His connection to the Green is no longer in any question in his mind as he has stepped on the path of the Verdant Lord. Bolo has felt the urge to have his companion now more than ever as there is so much happening in his life and he has no life partner to share it with. Bolo decided to stop the dog for a moment and they sat and talked. Eventually Bolo started scratching the dog and it flipped onto it’s back for a good old fashion belly scratch. Bolo hit a nerve and the dog curled backwards stretching his body to the utmost and making a loop out of himself. Bolo saw this happen and said “Now! Catch your tail!” and the dog grabbed the tip of his tail in his teeth. 
They jumped up as one and Bolo hugged the dog to him. “Friend?” said the dog. “Friend.” said Bolo. They wrassled for a while longer and then a wren came to Bolo and his dog Tailcatcher letting them know that Bolo’s friends Kayleigh and Scorch were waiting for him. The four returned to Brindenford just as 2 huge dragons came to a very bad landing outside the city. And the rest you know.

Aethramyr looked back and forth between Bolo and his dog and silently prayed for his goddess to take him now. These two could only spell more tongues touching things!


----------



## dravot

*Interlude: Zira's Curse and Dravot's Promise*

After the priests of Wee Jas have left, I spent some time organizing the town.  The paladins of Heiroeneous, feeling somewhat ineffectual, volunteer to begin 'turning' the snow about town, as well as lending what medical and spiritual aid as they can.  Ginger and the house staff have turned the courtyard into what is essentially a field hospital, with servants of the sun god using magics to keep it warm and sunlit in the dingy outdoors.  The most serious cases are brought inside to be placed in beds throughout the mostly empty manor.  I am pleased to see people pitching in and helping each other in this time of crisis.  I wish that this spirit of cooperation would exist in more peaceful times as well.

The Tatterdamelion has been seen teleporting or dimension dooring about the town, monitoring her walls.  Consultation with the city watch indicates that he has at least three different 'forms', and each with a different personality. They've labelled him 'friendly mace', 'imperious staff' and 'scary sword'.  One of the paladins of Heironeous, a young local lad named Jean d'Astoine, told me that one of the incarnations is evil, and he doesn't trust the thing (for he refuses to call it a man).

I smiled at Jean.  “I understand how you feel.  It makes me uncomfortable as well, but I have come to trust in the Temple of Wee Jas for the protection of the town.”

He nodded, although clearly not sure.  "If you say so, my Lord.  My master says you are very wise, and that we should trust to your judgement.  I know of few outside our order who's judgement he values so.  I prefer virtuous battle to such trials of faith.  How you, master Thorkeld or the Paragon manage such things is beyond me, though I shall meditate long on what you have said."

"Sometimes fate hands us strange allies.  I may not trust them in all things, but I trust them in this."

A quick inquiry revealed that Zira was at the Temple, where she often has been of late.  She prays for guidance, more often than even Thorkeld or I do, and more so than of late.

I entered the chapel and directed the acolyte in charge to give us some privacy.  I knelt beside Zira and prayed silently to Pelor for a long while.  I asked for strength and guidance; strength to do the tasks that Pelor needs, and the guidance to know what those tasks are, and if those tasks include helping Zira and her brother.

When I finished my prayer, I turned slightly toward Zira, politely waiting for her to look up and notice me.

She rose, though she did not look at me.  It was clear she had finished praying, and was instead meditating.  Though she gave no sign at first, she was clearly hyper-aware of her surroundings, and my presence especially.  She glanced in your direction, but seemed unable or unwilling to meet my eyes.  

"My favorite prayer is the Benediction of Belline.  She who heals all wounds.  All except mine, it seems."  She paused, obviously looking for the right way to say something difficult.  "So.  You know the truth, now.  You know my shame."

“Shame?  Shame of what?  The Brazen called you a princess.  Is that something to be shamed of?  One can hardly control one’s origins, or the family that one comes from.  The circumstances of my own family are hardly enviable. I am angry at Chavram, but my sense of shame at his actions (or even his very existence, I profess) has long faded.”

“Pray, please tell me of the lands where you grew up.  I would like to hear about them.”

"You see my shame, but you do not know it, I think.  I would that you had not known it.  It is only that you do not speak Bakluni, or you would already understand.  My name is not 'Tebara', it is a title that my brother and I share.  It means, 'unwedded' or 'unmarryable' in the common. 'Tebharin' means 'those who cannot wed'.  We can, neither of us, be a proper husband or wife.  It was a failure of our faith that led to my failing our people.  My father has no heirs, and his mother died in the birthing of us. Sand Fever took my older brother, and a monster my younger." 

"I come from Ekbir, far to the West, on the northern coast.  My father, the Caliph, is a gentle and just man.  We are not like Zeif, where lives have little value and women are treated as things.  My land is a lush green place, filled with rolling plains.  Such wonders there are there."  Her eyes fills with a light as she talks, her memory lightening her mood, somewhat. "Where the two mighty rivers meet, the Tuflik and Blashikmund, there is a great waterfall, greater than any I have seen in the East.  When you go there, you will see rainbows fill the air."

"My city looks over the Ocean, and it's cooling breezes are felt everywhere you walk.  From the Grand Plaza, you can see down the slopes of the city to the ocean, where ships of every make and color wait in port.  Not ugly monstrosities like the Sea Barons, but true vessels for travelling over the Drawmidj to other lands.  And one could see the Zashassar, a mage's guild like no other in the world.  They tell me it is the oldest in the Flanaess, and it is like nothing you have ever seen.  The last of the Bakluni mages settled here, after the Devastation."

“My city is bright colors and white stone, and the sun shines on us everywhere.  Your town is a fair place, and has it's own charms, but is not the City of Sails.  I have travelled far and wide, doing our lord's work, but I have never seen a city truly like it, though many have their own joys and suprises.  I only wish I had been stronger in my faith."

I sat and digested this.  “Ekbir sounds like a wonderful place.  I think I should like to visit it sometime, and see the Grand Plaza, and the mage’s guild.  I would like that very much.”

Pausing for a moment, and I continued.  “What is this crisis in faith of which you speak?  From what I have observed in both you, and your brother, you are pious, just, and good.  I have seen nothing to even consider a lack of faith.”  I smiled, in an attempt to lighten the mood just a little, “And lest you forget, I was undergoing a crisis of faith when your brother stormed into our camp.  If anyone might have some compassion and understanding of your situation, surely it must be me.”

She nodded, and seemed to me to be somewhat reassured by this fact.

"I had not wished to trouble you with such matters.  Your own concerns are great enough."  Zira paused, thinking about it, and then decided to continue.  "Very well.  I told you my younger brother was taken by a monster.  I did not name him.  He was a powerful wizard who had lived beyond death, and someone whom my brother had inconvienenced.  He chose to plague our house, and plague it he did.  His name was once Yerrana ib Abasiilu, but few know him as anything but Uhaya-nin-De, the Shadow-Taker."

"It is said he collects the souls of the pure, and stores them in little bottles.  From each one, he derives a little power, and he has many, stored over centuries.  My brother stumbled across the activities of his agents, and did what he does best...infuriates them.  The Shadow-Taker swore revenge, and revenge he took.  I prayed for  guidance, and was granted a vision.  There exists a powerful artifact of our faith, the Light of Reason it is called.  It is a Lantern that can be light from a sacred flame, called Pelor's Pyre.  It is a terrifying weapon against the undead, or so the tales say.  My brother and I sought it, and used divinations to locate it."

"We should have waited longer...studied more, or perhaps asked for more guidance.  Instead, we huried to where we believed the Pyre could be found...and discovered that the Shadow-Taker had built his underground fortress on the very spot where the Pyre once was known to be.  Rather than seek further aid, we entered, hoping to rescue my brother if he still lived. We advanced through the crypts, and defeated the traps and foes we found waiting.  Defeated them, at least, until the Shadow-Taker found us, and defeated us without a second thought, or so it seemed.  I think he meant that he might enthrall us, in some way.  I do not know, but I am sure that something went wrong.  While we sat there, bleeding on the floor, he cursed us.  Our blood mingled, and we became one, but not one.  It was a horrible process that I would spare you the details of."

"It was some hours into the process that I remember, through the haze of pain, that someone came to visit him.  A being that was treated with respect, if not honor.  He looked to be a normal man of the East, though I thought it curious that he was dressed so unwisely.  Foolish, is it not?  I sat there, being tortured and all I could but note was that he was dressed in a leather apron with no shirt, and worried that he'd burn in the powerful sun.  I cannot relate what they discussed, or how he came or went.  So little remains to me of the events there.  This newcomer called him away for some time, so that when the process had finished, we were alone.  My brother was in control, as it was now well past dark."

"I have communed once since then, and believe that the Pyre was near, and that it prevented the Taker from dominating us as he must have wished.  I am unsure where it was, but it allowed us to escape.  We returned to the city, and revealed our shame.  My father was understanding, but he was now in mourning for two sons, and we were, in some ways, as good as dead ourselves. The mages tried their best, but this curse was more powerful than any they had encountered...and they are master of elements, anyways.  This kind of magic is not known to them."

"And so I came to the East, in hopes that the church fathers here might have greater success.  Your mentor befriended me in a strange land, and gave me guidance.  I will miss his council, though it heartens me to learn that he walks in blessed light."

I leaned back, in silence for a minute.  “I am most sorry for your grievous loss of your younger brother.  Clearly, our families have much in common when it comes to tragedy.  Know this: I pledge upon my honor that I will do everything within my power to aid you and your family in whatever way I can.  From your story, I can find no evidence of a lack of faith on your part.  I believe that you and your brother are true servants of Pelor, offering your  your wisdom to any who wish it, and your arm in battle when necessary.”

“Although I would not wish such a curse upon anyone, nor would I dare presume to guess at the will of Pelor, I am starting to wonder if it was not meant to be.  An artifact such as you describe is indeed a powerful weapon against the undead.  Perhaps I would have considered it, perhaps Pelor would have sent me a vision to remind me of it, or perhaps you were intended to bring me news of it’s whereabouts.  I do not know.  I do know that such an item would be of immense value to me in my struggle against Chavram, and now, apparently, against Kargoth.  If the price for such an artifact is the downfall of one such as the Shadow-Taker, I would gladly pay it 10 times over.”

“Furthermore, you and your brother are strong in will and in body.  Your father must be, as well.  Pelor would not have allowed this to happen if he knew you could not bear such a heavy burden.  Of this, I am convinced.”  Dravot smiles again.

“You and your brother have brought me counsel at a time when I needed it the most.  You have helped to protect my town, and my family, and have bolstered my temple with your presence.  For all of this, I am in your debt.  I pledge to you that the Shadow-Taker will fall; I shall be your weapon in this.  The soul of your young brother will be freed; I will be your servant in this.  Your curse shall be lifted; I shall be your friend and do this for you.”

I knew that I had done the right thing, for she smiled widely back at me.  "A friend is more valuable than water in the desert, and I am glad to call you such.  I would not have asked it of you, but I am glad of your help.  You do me honor, Dravot of the d'Chandangac. In his light, perhaps I can honor you."

A wistful look came to her face, as if weighing a bit of mischief.  She then suddenly placed her hands around my face, and drew me down to her height, and presented with you a playful but meaningful kiss, full of promise.  She let out a small laugh at my astonishment, and stepped back, her cheeks blushing.

"I don't think I've seen that look since you first saw me in silks.  I like it now as much as then.  Though my brother might not agree."  I started to speak, but she covered my lips with a single finger, and shushed me into an unaccustomed silence.  "I have promised the priests that I would ride with them to the outlying farms," she stated, as the doors to the chapel opening behind us, "and I can see you have duties, as well.  I will return by the dinner bell.  Thank you, my friend."

As the captain of the watch, the captain-militant of Heiroenous and the house majordomo approached, she stepped backwards away from me, and deftly dodged between them.  They seemed oblivious to what had just happened as they marched up, intent on the affairs of Brindinford.  Zira stopped at the door and gave me a look as happy as I've ever seen her, and she disappeared from the temple.

I can only hope that my friends will agree to do this.  I trust them, and know that they are good people, but they’ve already done so much for me, and for Pelor, who isn’t even their god.  How much more can I ask of them?  What is reasonable?  Then again, we are hardly in a time of reason.  I will go alone if I have to, though I doubt that I could prevent Thorkeld from coming.  

I hope that I can retrieve the Light of Reason for my struggles against Chavram and Kargoth, but only after it is used to aid Zira, and not before then.  I have replayed our conversation in my mind a dozen times now, and yet I can scarcely believe what happened between her and me.  Certainly, life will become more interesting in the future, if nothing else.  I wonder what Thora will say when she hears of this.  I’m certain that I know what Kayleigh would say, in any case.

Bah.  Mindless speculation does me no good.  I must go to inspect the repairs to the East Gate, and put my mind back to the business at hand.


----------



## dravot

*Research on The Shadow-Taker and the Light of Reason*

From the book, "Favors of the Dawn", written about 300 years ago:

"During the time known as the Fourth Darkness, before the great draining took place, Pelor sent a gift to the faithful of the town Sesstis Ro, located somewhere in what is now the Dry Steppes.  To stave off the coming evil that was the Storm Lords and the marching horde of Vecna's undead, a boon was sent from the simplest of things."

"Henfar, the town's silversmith, received a vision in a dream.  He was to make a lantern of common make, but fine craftsmanship.  Pelor bid him travel north, to a secret cave under the earth, where Pelor's light rarely shone. It was a perilous journey, and he must walk it alone, past the undead, demons and monsters more terrifying than those that roam the civilized lands of today."

"Henfar crafted the lantern and walked forth, shielded only from evil by the power of his faith.  It was a mighty shield, indeed.  He found the secret vale, and the cave that led deep into the earth.  He walked for days, alone and in the dark (for he dare not light the lantern that was his charge).  When all seemed lost, and his plight hopeless, he spied a bright light."

"It was the very spirit of Pelor's will, rising from a crack in the earth, and lit aflame.  This was Pelor's Pyre, a powerful flame of white fire.  Henfar knew at once that this was where the lantern was to be lit.  He did so, and the power of Pelor's gift burst forth, setting Henfar and all who would view it at peace.  Though he thrust his hand in the fire, Lo, he did not burn nor fear for hurt.  He returned to Sesstis Ro, and the lantern, known now as the Light of Reason was hung from the temple's highest tower, to provide it's warmth and protection forever more."

"Sesstis Ro no longer exists, and the fate of the lantern is unknown. This tale was recovered for this tome from a decaying tome in the Kellerman Temple in Southern Keoland, which has since been abandoned after the king's persecution.  The author suspects it may have gone to the Silent Brotherhood, but that would be more ambitious than they are normally known to be."

From A Long History of the Suel Empire, Vol X., from your Grandfather's libram:

pg. 26/27: "Many were the enemies of the Suel, even unto the ending.  When the Rain of Colorless Fire struck, it seared and burned those in Torvag Baru as much as it did their mortal enemies.  Never has so much death struck so many so quickly.  But not all were killed."

 "Leonid the Quick was known to have escaped destruction, as was Uyenda, Prophos, the Hellgramite and the ShadowTaker.  Powerful sorcerors all, they aligned for the purpose of retribution, but unlike others, did not commit to the cause unto death.  Like insects under a rock, they scattered with the sun."

....

pg. 49:  "Many of the Bakluni survived, as the Suel did.  And like the Suel, they too migrated in mass numbers, but North, instead of East.  The modern Kingdoms of the Paynims, Zeif and Ekbir are their chief homes.  Both commoner and nobleman alike moved, from Yusef the Pilgrim to the Shadow-Taker himself.  The great found themselves diminshed in the North though, even as the downtrodden sometimes rose above." 

.....

pg. 112:  "It was said that the powerful Bakluni enchanter known as Uhaya-nin-De or the ShadowTaker (neither of which are clearly his real name) devised a contract with demons to live beyond his normal span, and took to collecting the souls of the unfortunate.  Many folk-tales surround him, particularly with bargains made and secrets obtained, and the terrible price he often charges for his gifts or knowledge.  Some assumed him to be an avatar of the diety Ralishaz.  Even wilder tales said that he had died during the Invoked Devastation or Rain of Colorless Fire, and rose again, far more evil and terrible than before.  Few of these tales have proven to haven any validity."

.......

pg. 193:  "The empire kept close track of it's more powerful enemies.  Indeed, it was the division amongst the Bakluni sorcerors that kept them weaker...much less than the Empire's oppression.  The Shadow-Taker was known to consort with dark powers, if the Imperial records are to be believed.  He was known to have consorted or consulted with followers of Tharizdun, but it was never clear if he was using them or aiding them."


----------



## WizarDru

If you were one of my players, you'd hate to see this:


Go here for some input into the game, if you're not one of my players. 

Because nothing drives them crazy like a thread they're not allowed to go into.


----------



## Zad

*The Durance Vile - Chapter 1*

*The Durance Vile*

*Chapter 1*

OOC Notes: 
Exp is 1300 this week.

Loot Administravia:
+4 ring of protection to Aethramyr (sold his old +2, 8,000gp +10% in CoB)
Staff of Eringlin has been put on hold til later
Ring of Spell Storing to Valanthe – default spells are Wall of Force and Teleport
Scarab of protection – sell 38,000gp.
Remains of GlaceRage net 38,000gp.
Subtract 9,000gp for the travel papers

Net share 12,633gp. Books are now up to date.


This Week’s Adventure:
After taking some hours to reflecton the state of affairs, I was ready to talk to the Brazen again. I had one basic thought on my mind – the rescue of Lord Gelban. It was a thought that most of my companions were sharing. But the Brazen had always been honest with us and we at least wanted to understand why the dragons had not tried to rescue him, and what might happen if we tried. What followed was a long discussion of draconic politics that was numbing at times.

The metallics did not plan to rescue Lord Gelban for many reasons. First was a lack of true concensus among the council. Second was the issue that right now, while there was war, it was very limited in scope. If the reds were to kill Lord Gelban, a war would erupt that would scar the whole of the Flanness. So the reds are unlikely to do that just yet, unless they are provoked. The metallics were hoping to win Lord Gelban back by parley, and meanwhile the reds have a valuable hostage, so both sides are more content with the status quo and neither wants to risk the consequences of any other action. 

If we acted to rescue Lord Gelban with the knowledge and sanction of the council, the consequences could be just as grave. However if we acted without their knowledge or blessings, much of the risk is avoided. Aethramyr wisely was concerned that we would be perceived as an agent of the council regardless of whether we had their permission, and this was a genuine risk. But none of us seemed content to leave Lord Gelban to his torment, so we accepted this and moved on.

During the conversation with the Brazen, we once sent a thought over the scales to each other. We have become so used to these items that we use them reflexively without considering it. The blessings of private communication with each other over any distance cannot be understated after all. But the Brazen raised an eyebrow, and strongly advised us not to use them while considering this matter. We never had cause in the past to consider what price may come with the scales, but the implications were obvious and we immediately took them off for the rest of the conversation.

By the end, we were of a mind to rescue Lord Gelban. The Brazen of course understood this but it was our hope that he would remain silent on the issue and not inform the council, or at least not right away.  Once we had discussed the matter of the Theerpart (The Brazen would stash him in an inter-planar retreat he had access to) we made preparations to depart.

[At this point, Dravot named the plan _Operation Bay of Dire Pigs_]

Having Venn moved to comparative safety was a large weight off our shoulders and we set about our preparations. Valanthe and I made a quick shopping trip to Sigil while the others scattered around on their business and we met back up in Hexpools. (Luck was against me this trip – the prices asked were ruinous, and it was only thanks to Valanthe that the costs came down to a more bearable level.)

Dravot sent word of an interesting development from Greyhawk – the Scarlet Brotherhood has abandoned Greyhawk. This came from Prestwick in the Temple of Pelor but he did not know why they chose to leave.

As we were ready to leave, we each took off our scale and set them on the table. They would have to wait til we returned. Scorch had a spell that could do the same thing but it didn’t last nearly as long as we might like.

One compelling issue we had to resolve was how we would actually get into the Durance Vile. We knew that it was a demi-plane that connected to the Elemental Plane of Fire. But that covered a lot of ground and we had no idea how to actually get in. Dravot remembered a spell called Find the Path that would lead you to a given landmark, but we were unsure if it would function. Valanthe did some checking and found that the main entrance was something called the “Burning Gate” but little else. We concluded that perhaps we could ask a favor from someone who might owe us – Prince Sumez ben Taal, the djinn we released from the binder. So we would go to the plane and ask his aid.

Then there was a second wrinkle. If we were going to rescue Lord Gelban, Hammer and Tongs wanted to go with us. We were glad for the help, but it meant we were taking nine people total (Thorkeld insisted on coming, to my surprise. I would have thought he would be worried about Brindinford.) That meant we could not plane shift everyone in one shot, which meant we would have two groups landing, most likely in two entirely different areas in the plane. We concluded we needed a portal instead, and so went to Sigil and had someone guide us to a portal to the Plane of Fire. (It turned out to be inside someone’s basement furnace.)

We arrived on a narrow stone shelf and quickly threw a spell to acclimate us to the local conditions. Overhead, gigantic things floated through the sky, bodies composed of a series of burning comets. They seems oblivious to our presence (I assumed they were beings of some kind but they could have been just the landscape for all I know.)  Plumes of fire in every color were visible across the landscape and various other wonderous sights covering every type of combustion I had seen, and a hundred times as many I hadn’t.

Scorch looked around and muttered a bit, and thought we were somewhere on the Solness expanse. Of course that covers the majority of the plane so it told us little.  But nearby a magman the size of a small child was wandering along, and he told us of an efreet colony up the stone a ways.   Since moving on foot was difficult at best (since the ground was absent as often as not) we mounted Hammer and Tongs and moved to the colony.

It was in view in a matter of minutes – a small community of terracotta domes, connected with streets of baked tiles. The only thing missing was any kind of vegetation, but there were a great many people. In this case “people” means red and orange skinned humanoids, many with horns in some fashion. Very few wore shirts and most had piercings in their nipples, and scrolling tatooes on their arms and chests.  Three males saw us approaching and waved us into a landing area nearby. They seemed concerned but generally more relaxed than most towns we’ve walked into.

Scorch was the only one who spoke Ignan, and asked them if they could tell us where to find Prince Sumez. The beings had a conversation among themselves in Aquan, assuming we wouldn’t understand it. Of course Scorch speaks Aquan as well, and when they were about ready to tell us just to go off in a random direction, he called them on that. They had another conversation in Auran, but Scorch spoke that as well and the process repeated itself. At that point they gave up in frustration and came clean. They had no idea – the Prince was a Djinn, and they were Efreet, and they don’t typically get along. The word “war” comes up a lot. In order to get rid of us, they directed us to a nearby djinn community and we went on our way.

The djinn community definitely had a different look about it. There were some fifty buildings with large domed rooftops, and the inhabitants were hued blue and yellow and green. The village was called Far Furnaces and we were received much the same way as with the efreet. They were quite friendly and told us the Prince would surely be in the City of Brass and gave us directions to reach it.

Of course, to get into the city we would need papers and clearance. Such things take quite a while to obtain. However the gentleman we were speaking to did conduct business in the city and could sell us some papers that were already approved. Once we settled the currency conversion issues, it would take 9000gp to get all of us authorized. It seemed quite steep at first but we joked among ourselves that Lord Gelban could surely afford it.

Again we took to the skies. It was like a dream, flying with Tongs over the Plane of Fire. I could have flown on my own but the dragons were a fair bit faster. We banked past hydrogen storms, soared over glowing auroras, flew past shimmering curtains of flame, and started as we went near elementals that danced and fought in flames and light of every color. The trip was two hours and was over far too soon.

The City of Brass was every bit the wonder its reputation made it out to be. We saw the giant city looming ahead in the sky, but were approached well before we got near, and directed to a small way station.  The guards present checked our papers over, and asked our business. When we told them we wished to see the Prince, the guard used telepathy to view Scorch’s mind. He asked Scorch to recall a memory of the Prince to validate that we had met him.

Scorch, without hesitation, remembered the Prince as he said "Oh. That. Um, about that. I lied." The guard nodded, saying that definitely was typical of the Prince. What surprised me was that he told us we were expected. When I asked about this, I was told that it was not at this specific time, but that they had been informed that sooner or later we would probably drop by.  The guard then went over the laws of the land with us: no fighting inside the city limits being the chief among them. He also gave us a map with several locations of interest including the palace at which we could find the Prince, saying that we couldn’t miss it since it had 75 nubile women dancing around it.

Also, and this was most important, we had to check out when we left the city.

We left the way station with convential flight to conceal the dragons identity – there were red dragons that could be seen circling the city and we didn’t need to draw attention. Most of the buildings had upper stories of brass, giving the city the name but there were several other materials as well. The entire place was more colorful than most of the paintings made it out to be.  There was even green grass on some of the lawns – a status symbol for the very wealthy. 

The actual palace was surrounded by a low wall – a token among people who can fly. It was completely extravagant and looked like the designer was tasked to find every way possible to throw money away.  There was even the wasteful luxury of a moat (more like a reflecting pool) around the estate. It was the most water I’d seen in one place yet. The palace had several wings, bridges (which existed as it just to remind you that you were walking over water) and numerous gardens with fruit trees. Even the air felt a bit cooler here.

As we approached, the five-score dancing girls stoped circling and danced themselves into two long lines welcoming us to the grounds. We heard in our minds “Welcome. The mighty Prince Sumez ben Taal welcomes you to his palacial estate.” As we passed between the long lines of beautiful women, I noticed that these women were not mere ornamentation – each had a weapon carefully concealed in their silks. Valanthe shot me a quick look and she too realized that these were the bodyguards as well as the decoration.

A man met us inside – some other type of native being – shorter than the djinn. He too welcomed us and said the Prince would gladly receive us but was eating a feast at the moment. If we cared to freshen up, then another feast would be served in our honor in some twenty minutes. 

We wandered the gardens and soon the chimes sounded and we entered according to custom. The feast hall was carpeted in pillows of all shapes, sizes and colors, and the room descended down in broad steps to a central fire pit, with small tables dotted here and there.  The flames in the pit slowly resolved into the Prince and despite the grand entrance he was very cordial. He greeted each of us and was glad to see us, and there were no formalities involved. He was quite proud of the estate – he intimated he had left some money with the money lenders, and had returned after all the centuries to quite a sizable fortune which he made no bones about spending. 

We had an elaborate meal that was certainly . . . interesting. There was a great deal of food imported from the prime material plane for our benefit but they were obviously unfamiliar with the usual means of preparation or in some cases the desired outcome of a dish. But despite the oddities such as a cooked salad, it was all quite good and we ate well. When our host let out a loud belch, we took that as a signal to discuss our purpose.

We told him we wanted to find a way into the Durance Vile, preferably a secondary entrance rather than the main gate.  He was only vaguely familiar with it and it would take a day to make some discreet inquiries and we would have his hospitality in the meanwhile. It would take a day or so to ask around, so Valanthe and I made a point of shopping around town. The Prince sent one of his guards with us as guide and escort and we had a very pleasant day shopping. We sold a few unneeded items, and I bought no end of silks and fabrics. Some changed color with the heat of the wearer, others shimmered, and others actually danced with flame. One type changed color based on the temperature in the area, but it was pointed out that at home it would probably just be black all the time. I got a mischevious notion into my head and bought something more than a little suggestive for Zera, figuring that she would find a good use for it soon. And of course things for myself, ranging from formal to somewhat more intimate.

Of course no shopping can go unmolested. We were being watched. Valanthe spotted a janni was following us. He was orange-brown in color and eight feet tall. We told our escort and she said that it wasn’t a real janni – the coloring was just not right.  We concluded that if he lost track of us, he’d return to his employer or cohorts, and we easily gave him the slip. (Honestly between the entire group, he picked the wrong ones to try to follow. We rounded a corner and Valanthe and I might not have been on the same plane any more for all he knew.) Valanthe turned the tables and began following him and sure enough he soon gave up and headed off.

He soon stopped and seemed to be talking to a wall. Valanthe used a true-seeing scroll and a great deal was revealed. First, the janni was actually the same man that had met Scorch recently in Brindinford – Scorch called him The Burning Skin. And he was talking to an invisible man who was shifted to appear as an efreet. He was actually human, stocky and wore a leather apron and heavy pants.

Valanthe stifled a gasp as she realized who it might be – Brontal, the smith who had made Dravot’s brand. He looked enough like him. But the real Brontal had been killed before making the brand, and an imposter took his place for a time.

The two conversed and then went to meet a third man, also a human.  He appeared oridian with dark brown hair and dark eyes. He was dispassionate, but he was not pleased. The Burning Skin was agitated but after a couple words from the newcomer he snapped to attention and silence.  The man waved something at Brontal, who nodded and left. The Burning Skin cast a spell and disappeared. Valanthe decided to follow the new man, who walked into a dark alleyway and then melted into a dark wall.

We met back up and Scorch said that the man was a member of his guild. Scorch had aquired focus items to travel to the plane of fire through the guild so The Burning Skin might have learned of our location that way. But who was the third man?

I had a suspicion. It wasn’t the clothes, or the appearance that brought it to my mind – it was the dispassionate coldness. Could this have been the Red Lord of the Scarlet Brotherhood? It was just a guess of course, and likely wrong. But why were these beings interested in us, and were they working with the reds? And was that Brontal? If so who was he really? On who’s order did he alter Dravot’s brand? We know Fraz was involved with the brand – was the third man Fraz?

If we find them outside of the city, perhaps we can persuade them to tell us.


----------



## Scorch

*Some insight into what is going through Scorch's mind right now...*

I had my suspicions about the Burning Skin since I met with him and the other Grey Guild leaders after I found out I had been appointed to the head of the Onyx Faction.  Out of my three peers he seemed to be most competent but tried the hardest to convince me he was a total idiot.

His showing up at Brindonford and getting a promise out of me to show up for a meeting back at the Pyramid the next day was not that strange.  Nor was his interest in the Winter Wight dust... I mean COME ON:  Winter Wight dust!  Who wouldn't want a jar of that?

It was when I showed up at the meeting and someone tried a Dominate Monster spell on me that I knew something was up.  The Burning Skin seemed oblivious to the attempt and whoever did it had a quickened Teleport to get them out before I could pick them out.  I kept silent about it but with Val's news I know it's time to take out the garbage.

I'm going to Cone of Cold until he is a frozen lump of melting skin and then take a hammer to his frozen ass!

Scorch


----------



## Zad

*The Durance Vile - Chapter 2*

OOC Notes:
Exp is 3150, assuming that’s not a net negative for you. The question is do we press on or retreat?

Loot:
Adamantite war axe (+2 due to the material)
+4 longsword (market 32,315gp)
+2 dagger (market 8,305gp)
+2 leather armor (Bolo for now)
Large Steel Absorbing Shield (market 50,170gp)

This Week’s Adventure:
True to his word, the Prince found what information he could on the Durance Vile. He was able to give us directions to the Burning Gate. The Gate itself was a portal on an island of rock that floated in a river of lava and was usually under the lava. Every few hours the island surfaces however, to allow less fire-attuned creatures to enter or leave. But our true desire was to enter by some other way, and here the Prince could not help. If there was another entrance, it did not connect to the Plane of Fire.  Since we had no idea where to start looking, we decided to risk the Burning Gate.  A choice we would come to regret.

Before we left the city, Dravot completed an ancient prayer, and summoned a solar to help in our efforts. Such a summoning is only a first step – he then had to bargain with the entity for what he desired. The solar that appeared was named Aylwyn and Dravot seemed quite familiar with him. They spoke briefly about the Staff of Eringlin and Aylwyn agreed to help us in exchange for returning the staff to him. As it was an artifact of the Church that we would have very likely returned anyway, it seemed reasonable enough.

With that done, we made sure to check out of the city, and headed for the Burning Gate. It was about a four hour trip and our arrival was roughly timed with an expected surfacing of the isle. I looked back several times and I’m reasonably sure we were not being followed by the Burning Skin or anyone else.  

On the way, we ran into a firestorm. Scorch realized it was coming before it was on us and we had some time to seek shelter in some lava tubes below us. The winds were intense and during the descent I got blown off but was able to get a fly spell off and land on my own. We holed up in some very old lava tubes which were of fair size so fitting the dragons was not an issue.  The molten lava had dripped and cooled forming many long tendrils of rock in the tube.

Or were they? For a moment I could have sworn I saw one of the tendrils move. Some observation revealed that they were indeed reaching towards us, and they seemed to lead towards two main clumps of stone.  Scattered on the main masses were brightly colored orange and red balls, about the size of a fist. Of course it seemed inevitable that we’d find something inhabiting these caves so none of us were particularly startled. Just the way these things seem to go.  Rather than deal with them, I suggested a wall of something to just hold them off til the storm passed. A wall of stone was obligingly provided by Dravot, and I hoped that would be the end of it.  But of course it wasn’t. There was loud slashing, and the wall began cracking as the creatures worked their way through. About the same time the wall caved, we saw it was only one of the creatures, and that the other one had circled around to the entrance of the tube.

So much for being nice. I shrugged and opened fire on the one at the entrance. As the arrows hit, the small balls burst into flames and gas and Bolo said it was a burnflower. Apparently they had encountered something in the city about the buds as a drug.  The arrows bit hard and there was a shriek like steam escaping. Hammer loosed a jet of acid on the injured one, and it fell apart.  Meanwhile Aylwyn flew over to the other one and imprisoned it. With that done we waited out the storm and then continued on.

We were flying over a wide river of lava and fire when the island started rising up ahead of us. First the thin spire of a tower showed up, rising over 200 feet before the rock of the island became visible. As the liquid fire receeded, we could see several creatures on the island, apparently the guards. One was a beholder, but larger than ones we’d seen. We were over two thousand feet away but still worried about being seen and circled the island wide to continue looking. We saw several efreet, the beholder, and an ettin wielding flaming scimitars. As we watched, we could see the ettin speaking, and Valanthe thought it was making wishes.

Well so much for surprise.

We began closing fast, but it was a long distance. One efreet pulled out a large bow and waited, while another one closed towards us.  Scorch made a bold move and teleported himself, Valanthe, Thorkeld, Bolo and Dravot (who were all riding Hammer) onto the top of the spire. Dravot looked over the edge and believed the beholder knew they were there but was trying to act like it didn’t.  Scorch tried to dominate it but it failed.

And then Bolo did something… unusual. I can’t help but think that the name “Bolo” is one that water elemental mothers say to their children to get them to behave – “Eat all your seaweed or Bolo will get you!” The last water elemental that he called, he forced to swallow a great deal of acid. And now he brought one on to the Plane of Fire. The elemental was not pleased or comfortable and immediately began steaming from the heat. 

One efreet was closing on the dragons, which still carried Aethramyr and myself but as fast as he was, it would be a while before he got close.  Another efreet was trying to sneak up the tower, but Valanthe was also skulking around and easily out-sneaked him and injured him badly. The beholder gazed up at the water elemental descending in free fall towards it, and disintegrated it. By this point another efreet, who we thought was in a berserker rage, had come up the spire and attacked Thorkeld but missed. Aylwyn was soaring towards the tower and tried to charm one of the closing efreet but that too failed. Since it was now in range, I started firing at it, and landed a few shots. As a follow up, I dropped an obscuring mist on the tower base, so that the efreet archer could not see to fire.

On the tower, Bolo threw a thunderball at the beholder but it just ignored the spell completely.  Scorch on the other hand decided if he couldn’t dominate the beholder, he would dominate the berserker efreet and successfully put him under control, intending to send him against the beholder. The beholder countered by disintegrating him as well. The beholder also shot a death ray at Thorkeld, who collapsed into a crumpled heap. It also shot a ray at Dravot but it was reflected off his shield. Valanthe disposed of the one she was dealing with and it was becoming clear that the beholder was the true terror of this gate. The beholder fired ray after ray at Dravot who’s divine grace let him resist one after the next.  At some point, the ettin must have decided that it was a bad thing to be around, and marched into the lava and left. Scorch was dropping spells but the beholder was ignoring most of them and the ones it didn’t were still blunted.

Farther away, we had continued closing on the tower but it was taking a long time. On his way in, Aylwyn finished with the efreet who had been coming towards us and got to the tower. But it was taking a very long time to close in. Finally Hammer came round the side of the tower, but his cone of cold was resisted. On the other side, I came into a line of fire finally, and while several arrows hit the beholder, they all just bounced off. Fortunately I had told Tongs to keep us a few hundred feet away so that we could avoid the eye rays.

At this point everyone converged on the beholder except Valanthe and myself, neither of whom could do anything to it. Of course those in close were having no better luck, and there was a long series of ineffectual spells and attacks, all the while the beholder’s rays lancing out striking at people. A green beam shot towards Bolo, and he dissolved into dust. I just started in dumb silence as Tongs slowly circled.

Finally Aylwyn reached out and imprisoned the beholder, and it was over. We had won, but at great cost. And then it hit us – we realized that one of the efreet had escaped through the portal during the fight. If he alerted forces on the other side of the gate, this could get a great deal worse.

But first we had our fallen to attend to. Dravot used the Staff of Eringlin to resurrect the two fallen. But while Thorkeld returned to life, Bolo did not. At least not exactly. Apparently his constant talk of reincarnation had not gone unnoticed by his goddess, and rather than the dust returning to the form of a halfling, he was reborn in a new form.

An elven form. 

As he stood, he almost tipped over from the vertigo and extra height. And as he looked at his hands and arms saying “I’m an elf! I’m an elf? I’m an elf!” I just looked at Aethramyr. And Aethramyr sighed heavily, and handed me the flask, but not before taking a long draw on it himself.


----------



## Zad

Bolo's Return (posted on Bolo's behalf)

They say that when you die you see your life flash in front of you. I didn't see that. What I did see was a colossal Beholder made from magma. It turned one of its eyes and a green ray shot at me. I remember feeling my body expand and explode into tiny particles. 

My luck had finally run out. I was dead and going to the Beastlands for more than a vacation. I was traveling the roots and then I heard Dravot's voice. Now I love the big guy but I was more than disappointed to find him in the Beastlands waiting for me. Thankfully He wasn't there but back on the Elemental plane of fire where we were attacked. Poor Thorkeld, He had died as well. I could hear Dravot petitioning Pelor for aid and the activation of that staff He had been carrying. Dravot asked me if I wanted to return. I explained that that was not the way of the followers of the green path. But the fact was that the others needed me. I would return.

I could feel the face of Pelor turn and shine on me but the warmth of the sun gave way to the cool of a forest glade and the smell of pine and the sound of Unicorns. Ehlonna had made her presence known. The warmth and coolness entwined and I was made whole.

The first thing I remember of my new life was opening my eyes and realizing the light had more depth and sharpness. I stood and for the first time looked my friends in the eyes.  Ehlonna had decided to grace me once again. I was now a member of her chosen people. Bolo Brandybuck Halfling and Druid had become an Elf. She had reincarnated me and I had a brand new fresh young elfin body. I admit to a bit of vanity for a moment and said to Valenthe, "Well? Am I handsome?" She almost blushed and tossed me a set of leather armor that had been taken from one of the Efreets and helped me into it. Dravot gave me back my gloves of storing and some one passed me a dagger that glowed faintly. I can tell that I have long wavy chestnut brown hair and fair skin and as a parting reminder of who I was/am my lady left the tufts of fur on top of my feet. I will have to be tattooed over again my totems dictate it.

Aethramyr says to me one thing that sets me to the dread that I am experiencing "What are you going to tell your mother?" That was when I saw my life flash before my eyes!


----------



## Zad

Aftermath:
As we recovered from the fight, I spoke to Hammer and to Aylwyn. I was very troubled by the creatures that had we had been fighting of late. We all knew of creatures that were nearly immune to normal weapons, or those not highly enchanted. But the weapons we carried (or in my case, made) were as powerful as could be made and yet two creatures we have fought simply ignored them. Could these things only be killed by magic? Is there any weapon that can harm them? I was most disturbed.

Aylwyn simply shrugged. He stated plainly that he knew nothing of such matters. He is the sword arm of justice but even he has rarely been called on to face such such fearsome creatures, though he knew they existed. So much for divine enlightenment.

The Hammer had a different opinion however. "Tha best?  Tha best that I could forge, aye, but not tha best that can be found.  There a' ways that greater weapons can be forged, but they require searchin' an' sacrifice, and only a handful on the prime or elsewheres ha' e'er been able to muster such power.  Ya need to expose weapons such as yours ta a raw power source of great energy, and forge it there, or bring such a thing to place in tha' weapon."

"These thangs ye've been fighting, and that thing we jus' slain...they stink of the power o' the Primals.  Acid, Fire and Ice...somethin's loosened their prisons, I'm guessin'...and someone's found a way ta' tap that power and change these beasts.  Ya either needs to empower yuir weapons, avoids 'em, or find they're weakness.  I'm nae expert, but such power always comes at a price.  A blade or bow 'll bring 'em down, if you know where to strike, and
what with, I always say.  But yuir friends know more about that than I do."

If someone is using the power of the Primals to turn these creatures into something… else, then we’ll have to find a means to access the same powers if we want any chance of defeating them. This rescue just got a whole lot more complicated. Do we stop the rescue now and try and find new weapons? Do we give up entirely because the things that guard Gelban are too powerful for us to defeat? This is the choice we face now.

So far, most of the group seems inclined to either press on and try to avoid a fight, or enter the Durance Vile and rest. With an alarm being spread, it seems foolish to delay and allow them to raise a defense, but I’m at a loss. I fear we are overmatched.


----------



## WizarDru

_Lava bubbled up through the surfaced of the caldera below.  The air was filled with smoke and ash, a result of the fierce magical wind that drove the reverse waterfall of molten rock rising up out of the volcano.  

The paladin locked eyes with the enormous dragon.  Each stood a hair's breadth away from death.  The solar had tried to help the paladin, but the dragon swatted him back, the spell lost.  Now it was down to these two.  It was will against will, and all others were now merely viewers to the battle.  No golems, no dragons, no hydras...and certainly not that....*kobold*.

And then one of them blinked._


----------



## Zad

*The Durance Vile - Chapter 3*

*The Durance Vile - Chapter 3*

OOC Notes:
Experience is 6,450. Levels for most of the party making most folks 19th.

Loot:
+4 unholy long sword
Boots of haste
Belt of giant strength +6
Cloak of resistance +3
Ring of protection +2
Ring of cold resistance (major)
+4 full plate
Ring of contingency heal, 1 charge
Ring of teleport w/o error, 10 charges
Torc of fire immunity (special item)

This Week’s Adventure:
We decided to move through the portal quickly, and work on a further plan later. As we each went through the portal, a wave of green fire washed over us, removing some of our enchantments. We appeared on a shelf of rock perched over a vast field of lava. The air was filled with ash and burning smoke.  Overhead a vast dome of volcanic rock rose into the sky. The ash made it difficult to see but ahead was a series of volcanic rocks and standing stones in the lava. Two huge volcanoes filled the sky – one was active and throwing lava hundreds of feet into the air, while the other was more quiet.  To the right we could make out a series of shelves of volcanic rock, while to the left in the distance was a giant spire projecting from the lava like a jagged tooth made entirely from onyx. Behind it was a blot like some kind of giant shadow, and overhead red dragons banked in the skies. 

All of this was moot for the time, as there were three figures in front of us. One was the escaped efreet, being held in the air by his throat by a clawed hand. The hand belonged to a beast that I can’t even begin to describe. It was part dragon, and part… something else. It was large but seemed feral. The third figure was…

Well, I hate to even say it. It must have been an illusion or a polymorph or something. Surely it couldn’t have been what we saw.

It was a kobold. It was a sturdy looking kobold, with full plate armor and a wicked sword, but it was still a kobold. He was swearing in draconic at the efreet “… abandoning your post, you worthless mercenary fellow.”

[Ok he didn’t say “fellow” but it started with an F. Eric’s Grandmother and all that.]

Regardless of their own dispute, we were pretty sure that these things wouldn’t be friendly to us. Aylwyn shot forward and cut at the efreet, adding to his already considerable problems, while the rest of us closed in or opened fire.  I put several arrows into the kobold, who didn’t look happy. He sneered and triggered his haste boots, but then managed to solidly miss several swings at the solar. The dragon beast – the kobold called him Grizzy – dropped the efreet (who was offering wishes the whole time to anyone who would spare his life) and slashed at Aylwyn, landing some telling blows. Scorch scratched his chin for a moment, and then decided that Grizzy needed some time to reconsider, and put him in a Maze.

The kobold was quickly loosing his smug look, and it was almost completely gone from his face by the time his head hit the floor.

The efreet had turned gaseous and was trying to move farther away, but not getting very far. I told him he could either die, or tell us where the gold dragon was being held, and then leave. He said he did not know where the dragon was. So I told him to get out of here before we changed our minds, and he vanished.

There was some grumbling about wishes but we were so pressed for time that I didn’t think we could come up with good ones, and such magics are notorious in their interpretations. That done we left the area quickly before more reinforcements arrived. The gate was already changing in color, and sealing behind us – Scorch believed it was a precaution – if something was not done regularly, the gate would seal to prevent more breaches.  This could be a problem if we needed to leave this way.

There was of course the rumored second exit. But looking across the lava to the pulsing shadow, it seemed clear where that second exit would take us. Provided we didn’t land in the Shadow King’s bedroom, it could represent a viable exit.

We took to the air on the dragons again, and soon took refuge in a tunnel on one of the large rock islands that projected from the lava. There were many such tunnels, and it seemed that they may have been made by a giant thoqqua. From here we discussed what to do next. Scorch was firm in his belief that we should rest and recuperate before pressing on. I was equally convinced we had to go forward – the alarm was raised, and if we didn’t act fast, they might just kill Lord Gelban. This was our once chance, and we could afford no delays. But a part of me knew that Scorch had a good point, and that part worried that we would prove him right with our death or failure. Fortunately my voice is only one – after a discussion, most of us felt we should proceed, and so we did.

We had a hunch that Lord Gelban would be in the inactive volcano. But we had other means at our disposal, and Scorch attempted to scry. What he saw was only lava.  Hammer however still had the Fire Eyes spell running, letting him see through such things, and he said that Lord Gelban was indeed in the lava, not over it as we had previously seen. He was chained to the bottom. However overhead, there was another Gelban – this one chained as we had seen previously. It seems that The Infernus had set this ruse to distract rescuers and scry-ers, however Scorch had cut through to the truth of the matter. Having now seen the location, Bolo cast Find the Path and it indeed directed us towards the volcano.

We also took a moment to strip the kobold (who’s body we took with us) and hand over whatever we could to Bolo. [Much discussion of licking ensued, and the tagline “Bolo: the snack that tastes you back!” was created.]

We got back on the dragons and skirted the edge of the demi-plane towards the volcano.  Near the center of the rock plate we had just left was a large sinkhole and some growths of crystal – we hadn’t noticed them when we had landed however, and we were worried something was on our trail. Valanthe mentioned that her vitaesis crystal was humming and that usually meant some other vitaesis was nearby. She had sent out her shadows to scout around, and the had escaped into the Plane of Shadow. They reported that they had evaded guards in the form of dragons and some coal golems. Something is causing shadow energy to invade the Durance Vile – on the far side, energy is coming from a long way away into crystals on the Shadow Plane, and from there is being projected, creating a rift to the Durance Vile. On the far side, there are dead bodies of half-draconic creatures.

We weren’t sure what to do about this, so we kept moving. As we got closer to the volcano, Bolo’s skin began to take on a stone-like quality. We wondered if it was something about the magic items he had taken from the kobold but it didn’t seem to be an immediate threat so we ignored it. We quickly closed the distance to the volcano and could now see inside. The interior was inactive, but had been somehow altered so that a stream of lava was shooting upward at high pressure and causing a cascade, like a fountain but with magma. Inside the caldera, there were several stone shelves sticking out partially obscuring what was below. On the top shelf, there were dozens of heads projecting from a few creatures, some wading in a puddle of lava. Hydras.

We dropped quickly into the volcano and closed on them and I launched my first volley. Of course, they had to be pyrohydras, and we were hardly surprised when they let out blue jets of flame at Aylwyn as he closed in.  Aethramyr leapt from Tongs and cut hard into one of them, while a second hydra let it’s breath play all over us. The injuries were serious from the fire but not enough to stop us. Scorch used a finger of death to kill one, and I opened fire on another one, which collapsed from the arrows and the ice. The remaining one was quickly cut apart and we moved on.

The bizarre landscaping continued as we descended further, and we could soon see the pool over which the supposed Lord Gelban was suspended. He was struggling against his chains, making a show of it, but he could see the angel with us (who could see his true form – a blue dragon) and we all knew we couldn’t do much to fool the other. Around the pool were four smoking rocks – they seemed innocuous but Valanthe and I were sure these were coal elementals like the ones the shadows told us of.

We quickly droped our act of trying to look like we thought he was Gelban, and he gave up pretending. He cried out “So you have discovered the truth then. Come and kill me if you can. I’ll take some of you with me if I die.”

I was impressed – no blood ticks, no worms – a straightforward challenge. At least he wasn’t heavy on rhetoric.

Aylwyn said there were many enchantments layered on the dragon so Bolo started with a dispelling which took out several of them, and Scorch did the same to remove even more. The dragon, Zephyrin, fired his lightning at Hammer and those riding him. 

Aylwyn shrugged, and invoked Pelor’s name, and brought a mass haste on everyone (i.e. miracle) and then a mass heal to negate the breath weapon effects. 

Hammer, showing a less refined style, yelled out “Fried any kobolds lately?!?” and let loose a stream of acid. [Ok, he didn’t say “fried”. But it started with an F. See above re: Eric’s grandmother.]

Valanthe closed in on the carpet from behind, and Tongs follwed her in, just saying “I never liked you!” 

When we engaged the beholder and efreeti at the gate, we were disjointed, but this time we worked together in perfect unison. Some of us went for the dragon, while others dealt with the elementals, and everything just somehow seemed to work. Dravot and Thorkeld moved to one, while Scorch disintegrated another and held a third. Bolo set about Quench-ing them repeatedly – the poor things never had a chance.

Zephyrim had moved closer, which put him into prime range for me, and I sent a stream of arrows at him. Aethramyr, Valanthe, Aylwyn and Hammer had all closed in and were harrying him from all sides. The dragon, in a move that left me speechless, Banished the solar back to the Elysium fields. 

I was in shock. Aylwyn was critical not only to our attempts to release Lord Gelban, but also in getting us home. This was very bad. But all we could do is keep up our attacks on the dragon for now, which we did. Even without most of his spells, he was still a fierce opponent.

Dravot suddenly started glowing with a holy light. The Staff of Eringlin flew up into the air, and blurred and glowed and the shape shifted, and as it disappeared Aylwyn was left in its place. Aylwyn looked exhausted from the effort and I suspect there was some price for his re-entry into the Durance Vile.

Aethramyr cut into the dragon again and again. But this was not to go unanswered. Zephyrim unleashed his full fury on Aethramyr who was staggered and gushing blood from everywhere, barely still on his feet. Aylwyn moved to Aethramyr to heal him, but as he started his spell, a wing buffet from the dragon sent him flying and he lost the spell. Dravot was not going to let death claim anyone else though, and a mass heal brought Aethramyr back to his fighting peak. By now, Zephyrim had absorbed an unbelievable amount of punishment. Surely he was the largest dragon we had ever faced, and the toughest. But despite looking gravely injured, he didn’t seem actually concerned. That meant he probably had something up his sleeve. I was thinking he could cast Heal since we had seen other spells, but once again Valanthe’s instincts and bravery made the difference.  She saw two rings on the dragon’s claws. And in an incredible move she swept in on the flying carpet and snatched both of them right off his massive talons.

Zephyrim was shocked, but only for a moment. He then went from shocked to terrified. Aethramyr circled Shatterspike through broad arcs, the sword glowing hot white and in a single motion slid through the blue’s neck, and blood and lightning gushed out. As the beast collapsed onto the ground, it croaked “You have beaten me. My duty is finished. Ashardalon will come. If you wish to survive another day, do your business and leave before the one who shames us all comes.” The light left his eyes and he slumped over.

I now had even more respect for this dragon, even if he was an enemy. We’d heard a lot of talk about Ashardalon, mostly rhetoric. But there was something very real and immediate about this warning. So we worked fast.

Aylwyn was key to the plan. He bowed his head a moment, and then started to glow. He swung his greatsword in several long arcs, each time the sword glowing brighter, and then with a word brought it over his head and drove it into the ground near the lava pool. White cracks shot out in every direction and the ground started heaving and shaking, and massive rents and fissures appeared in the ground, and the lava went pouring into them. Soon the pool was empty, and the bottom half collapsed into some cavernous structure beneath. Revealed by the receding lava was Lord Gelban. The chains still held him, but the rear legs were no longer anchored as the pool had collapsed in that area. The Gilden himself was only barely conscious.

We quickly examined the chains to find a way to free him. They were Green Bator Steel, but had more unusual properties. Hammer believed that they had Mordenkainen’s disjunction powered into them, and they would act to repel any magical attempt to break them. However Dravot had planned for something like this, and the disjunction was in itself magical. He conjured an anti-magic field, and denied of the magics, the chains were vulnerable. Hammer, Tongs and Scorch’s Bigby’s hand were then able to work to break Lord Gelban free.

Dravot cast Heal on Lord Gelban, who immediately seemed better, though still covered in ash and soot. He was disoriented but recovering his wits quickly. We were discussing our means of escape but Lord Gelban said he had a spell that would remove us from this place. We nodded vigorously, and Lord Gelban intoned the spell. In a moment, a huge shimmering arch of mithril thrust up out of the ground, a glowing light all that was visible beyond. We were all hurried through by the coppers who came in right behind us.

We entered a vast, shining place. The sun was high in the sky, with large puffy clouds. Silver and gold dragons floated in the skies above. It was almost like an idealized version of the Prime.  Nearby a large white marble temple stood, and a titan was walking out of it. I had the impression that Lord Gelban and the titan were in telepathic contact from the time we had arrived.  The Titan bent slightly and welcomed us all. Lord Gelban said this place was The Shining Isles, and was in principle at least similar to the Durance Vile – this was their place. Many things, including the passage of time, were under his control here and we could take our rest here. He lowered his brow for a moment, then again. Then a look of what I can only presume is frustration for a gold dragon.

“At least they _were_ under my control. I shall have to speak to someone about this. For the time being though we can rest here and recover. There is much to discuss, and many matters I need to tend to. I have been away too long. And for my rescue, I thank you. Ashardalon was feeding on my essence, and that is why the reds did not kill me. I am glad to be gone from there.”  His gaze flickered cross Bolo and his ever-more stone like skin. “Who are you?” Bolo had forgotten he was now an elf and explained.  Lord Gelban nodded. “I see you were near Ashardalon. As a descendant of Dydd, your natural defenses would begin to activate when near that foul creature.” Bolo looked as if he’d been hit by a hammer as he tried to take in the concept of being a descendant of Dydd. He must have been stunned – he didn’t even ask a question.

We floated towards the temple with Lord Gelban, the coppers and the titan. We all were staring at the beauty around us and were just in awe. I’m sure we must look a sight – blackend, charred, covered in soot and ash, and many of us bleeding. But somehow it all felt like it would be all right again.

Of course, the feeling faded soon enough. It was obvious that Lord Gelban was displeased with the current state of affairs and the new Gilden. I felt sure that there would be a lot of fireworks soon, and they might not all be just political. I’m sure we’ll soon see – news like this will travel fast. But for our part, we did as we said we would. We rescued Lord Gelban.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*An EX-Halflings point of view.*

Where do I begin! There I am standing in the Elemental plane of Fire with my little Hobbit hanging out (Wait! I'm not a Halfling anymore!) when I'm pulled through the portal. I arrive on the otherside facing a Dire Bear-Dragon cross breed. I take the form of a sparrow and wing out of reach.  I see all this happening before me and all I can think about is how I desperatly need to rest and collect my thoughts. I've been calm so far but I want to scream! 
Then I noticed the cracking and hissing my skin was making. I was metamorphing without my own concent. I was afraid but somehow could not wait to see the end result. I still want to. but back to the story at hand. There was just no letting up and when we faced the dragon I just assumed I would be meeting Ehlonna again. 
But we triumphed like always and Gelban was freed. We travel to this wonderful (if a bit stuffy) pocket dimension and Gelban lets me know off handedly that I'm (even now) a decendant of the great Druidess Dydd. He just drops this bomb on me and the others think I'm just being quiet. They have no idea what is happening to me right now. The problem is neither do I.


----------



## dravot

*Commune Time*

ShadowTaker Commune Questions

1)	Will killing the ShadowTaker remove Zira’s curse? 

*YES*

2)	Is there another way to remove the curse? 

*YES*

3)	Does the Shadow-Taker know that the Light of Reason resides within his crypts? 

*YES*

4)	If yes, is he using it for some purpose? 

*NO*

5)	Does the Shadow-Taker know of our group?  

*YES*

6)	If yes, has he kept track of us in the past few months? 

*YES*

7)	Does the Shadow-Taker have agents or allies in Ekbir? 

*YES*

8)	Is he in communication with followers of Tharizdun? 

*YES*

9)	Is the Brontal impersonator an agent/lacky/henchman of the Shadow-Taker? 

*YES*

10)	 Is the ShadowTaker following someone else’s orders? 

*YES*

11)	 Is there more than one entrance into the crypts? 

*ODD RESPONSE, MORE THAN ONE ANSWER INDICATED.*

12)	 Is the mage known as The Burning Skin working with the Shadow-Taker? 

*YES*

13)	 Was the ShadowTaker involved in the plot to taint the brand? 

*YES*

14)	 Is the ShadowTaker working for Chavram? 

*NO*

15)	 Is the ShadowTaker working for Iuz? 

*NO*

16)	 Is the ShadowTaker working for Kargoth? 

*NO*

17)	 Is the ShadowTaker working for the Red Lord? 

*NO*

18)	 Is the ShadowTaker working for Infernus? 

*NO*

19)	 Is the ShadowTaker working for Fraz Urb Luu? 

*NOT INTENTIONALLY*

20)	 Is the ShadowTaker working for the Quickie Mart?

*PLEASE DEPOSIT 100 MORE XP.  COME AGAIN!*


----------



## WizarDru

Those non-players/readers so interested are invited to come join in the latest brainstorming session, which can be found right here. 

For those who want to backtrack to the start of the current round of talks, you could go right here, instead. 

As always, mums the word, and all input is appreciated.  As some of you folks can see, I do actually use your input, so join in and have some fun!


----------



## WizarDru

The elf stared down at the two halflings, who stared right back.  A confused look passed over their faces, as they tried to process the information.  

"Fought a beholder once, with some help.  Didn't die, though."

"Yes, father, but I don't think it was a paragon fire-elemental beholder."

"Mmm...", was his father's only reply.

A moment passed.

"Well..", his mother began.  "I'm sure we can talk to your friend Scorch.  He could turn you back in no time."

"Mother...Father....Ehlonna chose this form for me.  It is her will."

More silence.

"Well.  Well.  Hmmm.  I see you lost your clothes, too.  Not to worry, though, Mother has everything under control.  Those musty human clothes stink!  Where did you get them from, some stinky old chest?  Lucky for you, I made a new robe for you!"

She walked over to a short, low chest, and opened it.  She motioned for Bolo to stand next to a stool, which she stood upon, and held a fancy velvet robe with gold filagree agains the elf's body.  It dropped down to his waist.

"Well, I'll have to take it out, a bit."

Bolo sighed.  It was going to be a long day.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*The Rebuilding. Part 1.*

Bolo was home in his grove. Ravenna, The Owl, Haldren, and the others were doing a masterful job of rebuilding the village and with the help of the Brandybuck family they were making faster work of it than Bolo could hope. The Great Rowan was flourishing under the care of Bolo, Ravenna and Rose and Bolo’s initiates. The town was growing by leaps and bounds and there were even a few Blue Bugbears from Gnarledbone’s tribe trading and wandering about. Bolo and Tailcatcher walked the length and breadth of the village, stopping in the market square to find Rogiar.
Rogiar was settling into his new life as a satyr with vigor. From what Haldren has said about him he was always a bit of a letch, but now he had a reason to be. Bolo desperately wanted to talk with him about his experiences adjusting to the new form. Bolo wondered if Rogiar was experiencing the same things Bolo was. After Bolo had time to sleep, well it wasn’t sleep really, its true that Elves don’t sleep, Bolo just sort of fell into a trance like state and when he next opened his eyes 4 hours had past and he was refreshed, in body at least. In his trance state, Aethramyr calls it Reverie; Bolo relived in a way the child hood of his new form. He remembers being trained in the arts of the Long Sword and Archery, He sees his parents as Elves not Halflings, his sisters as Elven Maidens not Halfling girls. Bolo still sometimes even a month later forgets he was ever a Halfling. His companions however don’t let him forget. 
“Master Satyr! How are you?” Bolo yelled across the noise of children at play. Rogiar looked up from his accustomed place in front of McPearson’s Trading Post.
“Do I know you Elf?” said Rogiar. 
“Ehlonna gave you a new life and I officiated. I’m Bolo, Rogiar I died fighting a Gigantic fire Beholder. Lord Dravot tried to resurrect me but The Lady of the Woods has a long reach and knowing I choose to follow the tenants of the Druids, she turned Pelor’s Resurrection into a Reincarnation into this new body. She reformed me into one of her chosen people.” Bolo sat down with his friend and they chatted a while. Tailcatcher, softly napping at Bolo’s feet, was content just to be with his partner again. 
Eventually Bolo had to return to his work of caring for the grove. He and Tailcatcher raced to Bolo’s home among the trees. He did not feel comfortable sleeping in the Great Rowan, that was Ravenna’s home so he had made a Halfling hole for himself a few paces away with an alter to Ehlonna and Beory just outside. Bolo had to shift his form to enter his house now and remaking it was his first priority. Bolo had grown in power and connection to the worlds. He now had access to the shapes of Elementals. Bolo closed his eyes and his form wavered again taking the form of an Earth Elemental. His rock hard hands easily dug into the ground molding the softened earth into a much larger cavern. Bolo stood back for a second admiring his work. He sat on the floor and started an ancient incantation; the words were as old as the oldest trees but as fresh as the new rain. Once the prayer was done bolo waited for his assistants to arrive. First the smaller earth elementals arrived and were put to work creating Bolo’s home. The walls were soon covered in stone and marble, with a mosaic of a Unicorn in opals adorning Bolo’s sanctuary. Bolo was busy shaping stones into chairs of various heights and setting the cushions he had Valenthe purchase in Sigil on them. Soon his home was finished room by room with an access tube for the awakened hawks (Stratos, Cumulos, and Nimbos) to enter and a smaller door for Tailcatcher and the wolves to use. The main door was of a hard wood and engraved with Bolo’s family seal surrounded by rampant unicorns.
He placed the glowing stones he had made into the sconces on the walls and a large “Warmth Stone” in each fireplace. Once he had finished the main parts of the house, he released the elementals back to their world with a thank you and a blessing. Next he cast “Sweet Water” in his kitchen and created a water source for himself with a trickle off pond for the animals to use.  His bedchamber was his best room. His mother had brought much of the things he had in storage from when he had first joined Gelban’s champions and he filled the room with his favorite things making a special place for his Scorch doll. He had come to love the cranky old human like a mentor in some ways. He respected and genuinely liked all of the champions but he, Valenthe and Scorch would talk into the night about worlds other than this one and Bolo would sit entranced. 
Bolo took off his shoes, something he rarely does now, and walked across the floor thinking how cold it still was. He let out a sigh and fell into his bed finally feeling safe and Tailcatcher jumped up to lay next to his friend. Bolo scratched his friend’s big head and fell into trance.


----------



## Zad

*The Durance Vile - Epilogue*

*The Durance Vile - Epilogue*

OOC Notes:
Exp is 2000.

Loot:
30k per person brings us up to date – books are closed

This Week’s Adventure:
Lord Gelban continued his telepathic exchange with the titan. As he did, the wind started picking up, but there were no clouds with it. It had the smell of an unusual wind, but I couldn’t say why. As I scanned the skies, it was apparent that the Shining Isles was a much bigger demi-plane than the Durance Vile was. There seemed to be no end to the ocean and islands scattered about. While the Durance Vile was a small fortress, this seemed to be an expansive place for a more collaborative purpose. And so far, nothing had tried to kill us, which was of course a plus.

Lord Gelban stopped suddenly and rose to his full height and muttered “Very well. So you won’t relinquish it willingly. At least now I’m sure who it is.” We said a few quiet words to each other, but dragon ears miss little. Lord Gelban said “I can hear you,  you know, and yes I do intend to … discuss the matter. Son are you coming?” My eyebrows raised as the titan said “Yes, father,” and then slammed his fist into the ground and with a small spray of blood, dragon wings erupted from his back.

Before taking to the air, Lord Gelban turned to us. “There will be some difficulty ahead. If you wish to remain here, I understand. I do not wish to put you in an unpleasant situation.” The reactions varied from Hammer saying “Agh, I’m not gonna miss this!” to some of us remarking that the Durance Vile was unpleasant, and how unlikely it was that this would be more so.  There was a massive rush of air as Lord Gelban launched into the sky with a single beat of his wings, and we all fell in behind him, most of us riding Hammer and Tongs. As we rose in the sky, the Titan introduced himself as Dormantd. I was about to introduce myself but then realized that he probably already knew who we were and he smiled and said he did, and we all did our best to keep pace with the massive gold dragon in front of us.

As we passed over one island, a pair of silver dragons shot out from the trees below, as though they had been waiting. They rose quickly and each breathed a blast of cold at Lord Gelban, who banked and avoided both. Lord Gelban for the most part ignored them, and the silvers then fell into formation behind him. Dormandt was close enough to be heard, and easily read the confused looks on our faces. He called out “It is the Gauntlet. The challenge for the right of the Gilden. If he cannot stand up to the forces, then he is not fit to lead us. I would have hoped he would have rested and prepared, but so be it.” I asked him pointedly what the protocols of the ritual were and he had no difficulty understanding my meaning. He replied “Father would be quite cross with you if you interfered directly.”

His answer spoke volumes. 

Lord Gelban then suddenly dove into the open sea, launching a massive spray into the air. After a moment he came back into the sky, followed by two smaller gold dragons who also fell in behind him. As the ancient gold rose, Hammer banked near him and got Dravot close enough to cast a quick endurance enhancement on him. If was not interfering directly after all. I tried to convince Tongs to do the same so I could cast a Cat’s Grace but I couldn’t convince her to do it. She seemed hesitant about the entire matter and did not want to risk overstepping any bound. As one of the only two copper dragons in sight, I can see why she might feel this way. Personally, I wasn’t above interfering directly if it seemed warranted – “quite cross” wasn’t much of a discouragement.

Two more silvers were waiting in the air, and Lord Gelban avoided most of their breath weapons as well, and they too joined the formation. From above, two solars came into view, each taking a single swing with their blades as Lord Gelban passed. (Dravot was sure one of them missed on purpose.)

We went through some ten minutes of this, passing over island and sea, with some twenty dragons in formation as well as a few solars and some other beings. Lord Gelban was lightly wounded but fairly well intact for whatever lay ahead. On an island ahead were a series of joined columns, forty feet high with arches connecting them outlining a large oval shape. Waiting calmly in the center was a gold dragon – large but not so large as the one we followed. There were dragons arrayed all around the area somewhat haphazardly, or so it seemed until the following dragons landed, each in their designated area. It just underscored how the Shining Isles, while beautiful, was a bit too orderly and forced for my tastes.

Lord Gelban went into a dive and rose back up over the arena in a tight arc. Then he dropped like a rock til he was mere feet from the ground and with a single wingbeat landed on the island with a crack of stone and cloud of dust. Tongs seemed uncertain where to land but her brother had no worry for propriety and  he went straight for an open space at the edge of the arena behind Lord Gelban. Tongs sighed and follwed him in. 

Gelban reared up slightly after landing and his voice boomed out with a patronizing tone “Paravandr… I thank you for watching over the Gold’s direction in my absence. Your services are no longer needed in that capacity.”

The air was still, and it seemed as if there was no reply. But dragons are subtle, and my ears picked up a small snort from the other gold. He was quiet for a moment more then he tilted his head in reply. “Gelban, I am glad to see you unharmed. We had hoped to negotiate for your release but I see your… mammals have freed you.”

“No thanks to you,” I said under my breath, knowing full well the dragon could easily hear me. Paravandr did hear, and inhaled slightly but he continued unfazed “However the Golds have spoken in your absence. They have decided that my way is the better course. Your continual… dalliances with the less civic minded creatures of the Flaness have caused the Golds and Silvers trouble. We have tried our best to guide them over time, but I think we’ve wasted too many resources trying to guide these more chaotically minded beings. We can serve the greater good in other ways.”

“By sitting on your arses and doing nothing,” was Valanthe’s whispered reply, and I had to stifle my laugh. Again, Paravandr did his best to ignore it and go on.

“Your guilt and fondness over these creatures, while laudable, has clouded your judgement with regards to them. The whole council affair was a misstep which I think we should re-evaluate.”

I could hear murmurs from the other golds, but the silvers were quiet. They seemed to be more here as observers. They were welcome guests but this is not their place, nor their matter to speak on.  But then I heard a low rumble, and what I first thought was thunder was a low roar from Gelban, building until it erupted like a volcano. His foreleg cracked the stone as it slammed down when Gelban stepped forward shouting “Dalliances?!?!?” Another crack of thunder with the second step. “Where were you when I ripped Ashardalon’s heart from his chest, still beating, hatchling? Where were you when we taught men and elves the ways of magic? Still unhatched! Where were you when we bound the Primals? Still unhatched! You seek to judge me? To tell me how to guide our people? Who’s mate died in the protection of our people? Not yours! Oh that’s right – you haven’t secured a mate yet have you? When I left this position, the Flaness was still in some form of stability. I’m sure that’s not the case now. Order has not been served. Further you forgot the first rule of being a Gold dragon – always have a plan. My ‘dalliances’ with the humans, elves, halflings, and dwarves have produced allies that have enhanced the greater good of all. Your idiotic hiding in a shell like a hatchling gains us nothing. Have you moved against any of our enemies, or have you simply hoped they would do no more while you hide like a coward?”  Paravandr started a reply but Gelban cut him off with a snort saying “Don’t bother lying – I can tell you don’t have anything important to say. Either give it up now, or by combat – I don’t care which. It just means more scratches on your face.”

Lord Gelban opened his wings to full spread and rose up, blocking the sun from view. But Paravandr’s thoughts were clear on his face. He was about to urge a protest, maybe even fight. But his eyes scanned the dragons assembled, and he knew that he had already lost the vote. Rather than fight a futile battle, Paravandr kneeled and lowered his head to the ground. A strong wind blew from behind him, buffeting him for a moment.

Lord Gelban leaned back and regarded him. “Better you know your place boy. Now I believe a formal apology is in order. As the reinstated Gilden, I expect you to apologize to my friends. I will leave the method to them to decide. I’m sure honor will be satisfied.”

Lord Gelban turned to us and said “Don’t abuse him too terribly much. I’ll return in half an hour.” And then he thanked each of us for his liberation, there in front of the assembled dragons. At the end, he said “I knew among all others, I could count on you.” He then went off with his son.

Paravandr came forward. He regarded each of us for a moment, taking us in. Then he said “I apologize for any disparaging comments I have made.” I’ve heard children try harder at convincing apologies. Valanthe made it clear that he’d have to try harder than just that. Paravandr then shifted shape to an elf. Or he tried too. The ears were too long, and he clearly didn’t make a habit of doing such things. He then humbly apologized, but this time I think he really meant it. He meant no harm, though his words were ill chosen.  

I had many thoughts all at once about this Gold. In a way I felt bad for him. I’m sure he was doing what he thought was best, but it still felt wrong. I looked at him quietly and said “Tell me this – if Lord Gelban had been here, and it had been you chained in a pit, your soul being fed to Ashardalon, would you have wanted him to leave you to rot?” I wasn’t expecting an answer and didn’t get one. I was just disappointed that he’d leave one of his own kind there, and I think he saw that. I let it go there though – I didn’t want to torment him. Bolo spoke to him more at length, and it seemed to be a meaningful exchange. Bolo thought he was a good being who made some bad choices. Maybe by the end he decided we were more than just mere mammals, but who knows. 

Hammer and Valanthe discussed an apology involving Paravandr singing “I’m a little teapot” but Valanthe didn’t abuse the defeated gold quite that badly. Aethramyr also had some private words with him. If they were as wise as Aethramyr’s words usually are, I’m sure it gave Paravandr something to think about. And I’m sure that flask was involved.

For my part, I noticed the Platinar on the far side of the arena, and I went over to say hello. He greeted me, and thanked me for my part in Lord Gelban’s release. I inquired about the Silverring and he said that he was rousing now and would be awake in two days time. Of course this was time on the Prime, since time would be moving slowly here for a while. Hopefully he’ll be awake for several weeks or months now. I asked him what he thought the reds would do. He wasn’t sure. They would likely regroup, and shore up their alliances. The Golds, he told me, get a lot more emotional about things than the Silvers to, as he waved his hand at the arena indicating the leadership challenges. But for the reds it’s much different. The Infernus has lost a prize prisoner, stolen from his very lair. There will likely be a great deal of political infighting within the reds as a result. But within the reds, that means blood will be shed. Hopefully they’ll be too busy with their own house to cause any major havoc any time soon.

We touched back on the topic of the Silverring, and the Platinar sighed. He certainly felt somewhat awkward about the state of affairs. “I am…” he started “You see.... I …. My master is tired. Tired in spirit. No dragon is older than the Silverring. He refuses to release because of his perceived debt to your race, and to the humans though Gelban bears that greater. But the Silverring remembers that he gave the knowledge of magic to us, and the things that came since. The time may come very soon when there will be a change among our kind.” 

I said “Hopefully more peaceful than the one here today.” He just sighed “No… We don’t do things quite this way. The Golds can be like the reds in their way. The Silvers don’t believe in prancing about so. However should the time come, and should I be the one, know that I will be your ally. You have earned the respect of the Silvers, at least all the ones I know.”

I was moved and could say nothing and just smiled and nodded in thanks. He decided to move to another topic, saying “And I would think that Gelban has some new scales for you. Your old ones are probably burned out by now – the Silverring touched them for good reasons but such things tend to destroy the scales sooner or later.” 

[OOC: At this point, somehow we got into discussions about odd creatures, such as the Custard Elemental and the Sock Golem. It’s in the notes, so it shows up here. I couldn’t make this stuff up.]

Lord Gelban returned soon enough. He took his usual human form as he landed, making conversation somewhat less of a strain on the neck. He looked over each of us and said solemnly “You all could use a bath.” With a smile he went on “I’ve slowed the passage of time here that I may understand what’s happened during my time in captivity and to allow you to rest. One minute will pass on the prime for each hour here. I suppose I could slow it more… “ and then he and Scorch got into a conversation regarding the passage of time, demi-planes, and other such subjects as to make my ears ache. Eventually they got back to the topic and Gelban went on saying “Aethramyr can fashion an abode for you with his mind. He would that we all could, but only someone of like mind can do such things here. We can take our ease and rest for as long as we like. There are meeting places around the isles where some types of commerce takes place. Indeed all of the Shining Isles is a meeting place, unlike Durance vile which is a cage and a prison.”

Scorch asked if there was a good place where he could try some things out. Somewhere that perhaps some incidental destruction would not be troublesome. I just sighed and smiled.  After many side questions, Gelban said he would like to talk at length tomorrow that he might be better informed of what else has happened lately. Bolo, unable to contain his curiousity any longer, asked about Dydd and that spawned a long discussion on the nature of dragons.

Ashardalon is neither dead nor alive. Many dragons when they reach a certain age choose to “pass with dignity” as they call it. They select a time and a place, and they simply let go. Where their spirits go is unknown. They have never been able to contact one. Most dragons have accepted this, even among the chromatics. When most reds reach that kind of age, the young ones tear their throats and rip them down, so it’s rarely an issue. Whites often just fall asleep and never awaken. But for most of the more intelligent dragons, the passing is their way. But Ashardalon was different. Ashardalon saw death coming. He grew mighty and powerful to the point where some humans and elves worshipped him. He believed that he did not deserve to die, that indeed he should not die for if he did, all dragons might die. Ashardalon went wrong. He sought another way – a way not to die. And he gathered power to himself.

Gelban paused to collect his thoughts, then went on. “The Scaled Council is a fairly new thing. Well new to us – it’s relative.” He turned to me saying “Your parents would know of a time when it did not exist, had they known of it of course. It was born from an agreement – the metallics won’t make war on the chromatics if the chromatics won’t go out of their way to harm the lesser…” he corrected himself “younger races. Some good dragons would be slain by evil ones, some evil ones by good ones, but it was just the way of things, and for the most part the balance was maintained. But then Ashardalon grew reckless. He consorted with dark powers. He started slaughtering his own people to drain their life force. He did not just kill them, but drained their essence and burned it like a candle to extend his life as he grew weaker. Ashardalon raised a temple in Keoland and gathered dark priests, many recruited from far removed generations of storm lords. They began kidnapping people. It had to stop. Even the chromatics stood aside to allow this. But Ashardalon was truly powerful. Even I alone would have had difficulty, and Ashardalon had shadow magic helping him. I enlisted the aid of a powerful druid, Dydd, who had the means to counter the shadow magic. She was powerful and had tapped into some greater power. That power, when in Ashardalon’s presence, made him weaker.  My mate and I went into combat. She was a human paladin. She slowed him down, and I tore his heart from his chest and threw it to the winds. Or so I thought. I thought it would kill him. I cast his body down and we cracked the earth and dropped the citadel into it.”

Most of us, save Bolo, were nodding, remembering well our journey into that citadel. “Had I realized that when I sent you for the fruit that it was the same area, I might not have sent you. Had I realized something was going on there, I might have investigated further. But my concern for my daughter blinded me. Regardless, Ashardalon lives still, has a hole in his chest still, needs energy still. This I discovered while in the Durance Vile. There is now a black hole in his chest that devours all light. Ashardalon no longer controls the Durance Vile, and yet in ways he does. Infernus and Ashardalon have an uneasy détente. The bore into the Durance Vile from the shadow plane makes me think that Ashardalon is trying to increase his power but he is now only a puppet for the Shadow King.” 

As Gelban continued his thought, his eyes narrowed. “Infernus is no easy thing, but if I see him again, I’ll show him what I did to Ashardalon.” He seethed a moment but then returned to the moment, working his way around to Bolo’s original question. “I knew you were a descendant of Dydd – our auguries told us as much. And you have the same power to weaken Ashardalon as she did. That’s not the reason you were chosen however. The Druids were my allies. But many of them were attacked, just as you were. Very few of them survived. You are quite possibly one of the most powerful druids left in the world. Ashardalon has taken steps to try to destroy the old religion. For my part I will do what I can to help, but I confess I’m not sure what to do.” Bolo sank into stunned silence as the realization hit him that the reason he’d been unable to contact his order was that most of them were dead.

Before we ended our conversation, Lord Gelban gave each of us a new scale. Personally I was glad to have it back. It may be simple but it may also be our most powerful tool.

The next day, we met again and informed Lord Gelban of all that had been happening in his absence. He was insistent on recounting every detail, and it took some hours to recount it all. For our part we held nothing back, save for the omission of the precise location of Ruun Khazai. If Lord Gelban wanted to know, he showed no indication, and did not ask. After the ancient gold was satisfied, we asked our own questions. We asked of the Shadow Taker but Lord Gelban knew little of him, and suggested asking the Silverring. 

We also asked what he knew about more powerful weapons, and explained our concerns as related to the creatures like GlaceRage and the beholder. He said that most items of that power have come from celestials or fiends, or have been manufactured in secret by very enterprising mortals. What he could tell us was this: it is not a trivial matter to make such items. It usually requires access to a major power source and great skill. It is very hard to upgrade an existing item, as exposure to the power usually will destroy the item. This is especially true for Primals. Usually such a thing is too chaotic to last long. Of course the most distressing part about such a technique is that you need access to a Primal to make it work, and that’s a very uncomfortable idea. I recalled seeing the solars earlier and asked if perhaps they would know something about the celestial sources of such things and he said he would check.

Bolo I think asked about the Mark of Fire, and that it wasn’t a Primal but Prince Sumez who gave it to us. Lord Gelban reminded us of what we already knew: Prince Sumez was a liar. He didn’t give us the mark. We already had it. He simply made it visible. Some beings are simply born with it. We are like wildfire. We bring about cataclysms that change things. Aethramyr also bears the Mark of Earth – it brings stasis and stability.

In passing the matter of the Greyhawk dragons came up. Lord Gelban knew of them, and said they were a bastard breed. (He meant no disrespect, just as a matter-of-fact.) We knew of the Invoked Devastation and the Rain of Colorless Fire, but magic of that magnitude has other consequences. Many died, but many others were no longer of their breed. They had been changed. This is what happened to the Greyhawk Dragons. They prefer to be human more than dragon. Gelban thought the souls of the dying and the dead entered into those dragons and changed them, terrified them perhaps. Scared them grey. They distanced themselves from the other dragons, and see themselves as mankind’s protectors. They are a force to be reckoned with, but particularly in Greyhawk, which they view as their territory. They were probably caught napping when the chromatics moved, just like so many others were.  Lord Gelban views them as undisciplined but they are not at all a threat.

After we had all spent ourselves on questions, we tended to our individual affairs. The next few weeks went by quickly. Scorch and Dravot spent some time making magic items, and other such things. I’m actually not sure what most of the others were up to. Myself I just relaxed. But the humans began getting impatient to return, and I suppose it was time. But before we left, we wanted to check into where Brontal the smith might be. Based on the answers from Dravot’s Commune, he was involved with the Shadow Taker. Scorch tried to scry him, but it showed some kind of unrelated image. Dravot however decided to try something more potent, and enjoined Pelor to reveal Brontal’s location. He saw an image of the smith floating in a bath of golden light, which turned painfully white after a moment. The man was sleeping or unconscious somewhat like Zera or Zara while in the demi-plane. Indeed Pelor revealed that the man was in a demi-plane called The Bestiary.  The knowledge was important, but not as helpful as I’d hoped.

With that we were ready to return, and Scorch opened a Gate to the Land of Black Ice. There were some… issues with our arrival. What with time passing more quickly in the Shining Isles, our entry was something less than graceful. Bolo scared the wits from some poor guardsman, but otherwise we arrived in tact. We headed for the great rowan and saw the Owl on the way. The village had come a long way, and as we walked the townsfolk showed a mix of awe and reverence for our assembled party. I was uncertain what to think of our reputations and just accepted it for now. Ariadne and Ravenna were in the tree, and both the tree and Ravenna were looking much healthier. Ariadne squealed when she saw us and gave me a hug, and already knew her father was back safely. 

Scorch, in his typical inelegant way, told Ravenna that we had seen Rackhir. She seemed shocked by Scorch’s bluntness, but given how direct Ravenna has been in the past I was surprised she’d balk at that. Ravenna was a bit stunned but said little else. 

When she recovered her wits, she presented Bolo with a box, which she said was a gift for him from “Mother.” It was a small bracelet of living ivy.

From there we spread out and tended to our own matters. Bolo went to talk to his parent, none to eager to explain to them that he was now an elf. I don’t envy him for that conversation. Telling my parent that I had died was hard enough. Apparently they took it fairly well, although his mother did say “I’m sure if we talk to your friend Scorch he can fix you.”

Scorch went off to see how his sister Ember was doing. Apparently she was studying hard and was flourishing under the Owl’s tutelage. There had been some trouble recently with nomads from the Wolf Clan attacking but the town easily repelled them. Dravot spent some time with the local church.

I spent some time with Ariadne. She was of course concerned about her father and us. I managed to avoid telling her too many details about the whole matter – I wasn’t sure what would be appropriate, and I felt that she might be very upset if she learned the exact details of her father’s captivity.

We seem to be of a mind that our next task will be to break Zera free of the curse, and recover the Light of Reason. We’ll want to talk to the Silverring before we go, to see what he knows of the Shadow Taker. This got us talking about the Lendores and a possible visit there but none of us had ever been there to teleport. We tried to think of someone who might be there we could scry, but all we could think of was the Silverring. I was delighted when Scorch let me use the crystal ball to try to scry him, but unfortunately I couldn’t key in on him. Then I decided to peek in on Aran’gel quickly, which worked just fine. He was hunting some stray twig blights in the forest. Scorch didn’t seem to care for that use as much so I didn’t push it, but I did smile a lot. Meanwhile the only other person we could think of who might be connected was the sea captain who sailed us across the Nyr Dyv. Unfortunately he was still on the Nyr Dyv so a trip to the Lendores would have to wait for a bit. But it might be wise to go there before we visit the Shadow Taker. Dravot and I have discussed him at length and are concerned that he has been watching us for some time. We’d like to somehow approach him without divination magics giving us away but protecting the entire group seems an impossible task.

But one way or another, our path will take us to Ekbir. And soon.


----------



## WizarDru

Shlaaath licked the marrow off of the bloody bone.  It tasted like strawberries and rot.  Gluuuth, watching hungrily, snorted his displeasure.  He had wanted the meat from the kill of the half-dragon...reds tasted the best.  The others were all sullied by the demons touch, but not this one.  Oh no, it was fresh, and steaming and oh so *warmmmmm*.

It had been a cushy reward, this job.  Slay a few of Infernus' flunkies, eat them if he liked, and keep the blot open.  Simple enough.  Even if he had to deal with that idiot Gluuuth or their cartoonish copies.

With a bright rainbow flash, the Spectral Citadel absorb some of the light from air, and sent a beam of pure shadow energy into the blot.  The arched of fused bone and shadow muscle pulsed like a thing alive, and the swirling purple vortex screeched like a raven on fire.  Then it returned to relative calm.

Suddenly, one of the shadow demon's head snapped up, as if it sensed something.  It was one of the Shadow King's puppets, not really a demon at all.  Shlaaath knew this, because he *WAS* a demon, and resented the name given to these shadowy pawns.  Suddenly, he heard the woman's voice, pealing like a bell.

But how?  Shlaath's senses were powerful, his grasp of the shadow plane great.  How could a simple human woman get so close to the gate of bone and shadow?  As the others charged forth, the strange woman's form resolved, her stealth all but abaondoned in favor of whatever it was she was doing.

Gluuuth smelled her flesh, and growled in their terrible tongue.  He tried to place the pretty in a magic jar, but to no avail.  She laughed and continued to read the scroll (A SCROLL?!?) she had.  She was human, and warm, but she looked like no human Shlaaath knew.  Her skin seemed to absorb the light, and was too dark to be naturally that color.  Behind her were two beings, and elf and a dwarf, who looked more like chalk etchings than living things.

Shlaath tried to put a fear into her, but to no avail.  Again, she laughed, and finished her spell.  The paper erupted into purple flames, and a blast of shadow energy struck the gate.  While Slaaath watched, the swirling vortex of energy turned into a tornado turned on its side.  Then suddenly, the energy flowed like water down a drain, the funnel disappearing.  Then the gate creaked once, twice and then grew brittle and cracked once, twice and then collapsed in a pile.

Slaaath, unbelieving, turned his head.  The Shadow demons were on her now, but having no luck.  She dodged their strikes, mocking them as she went.  She backpedaled with confidence, and she and her two companions jumped in the air, and vanished.  _Plane shifted_.

Silence, then.

All four turned to stare at the gate.  A cushy reward.  He and Gluuuth whimpered.

_Fraz was *NOT* going to be pleased._


----------



## Zad

*The World Around You:*

This is just some background material for the readers to help understand the nature of the campaign world that this all takes place in. The characters are now mostly 19th level, and we are gearing up for epic levels.  In some worlds this might be common and in others unheard of. So here’s some information about this world and the characters. Maybe it's helpful, maybe not. 

Out of character: Normal characters would stop at 20th level. Only those somehow touched by the primals can go beyond. All of us bear the Mark of Fire, presumably born with it. Aethramyr also has a second mark, of Earth. There are about 9 or so Primals, beings of vast power that created the prime on a whim, and were ultimately contained by the dragons. Some key beings in the world (Mordenkainen for instance) are surely epic level, while others are not. So it’s not as if there’s the conscious realization that there is a wall at 20th level. However the realization is there that they are as powerful as anyone they have ever heard of, and yet there is the question of what lies beyond? They’ve certainly seen hints that there is more waiting.

In character: 

As a group, we’re realizing that we’re now among the most powerful people in the Flaness. Of course, most powerful beings tend to avoid the public eye, so you have to take that into account. But both in terms of our individual power, and our ability as a group to get things done, we’re a force that other entities have to reckon with.

We’ve all heard different stories and legends as we’ve grown up, and we’re each doing fantastic feats within our particular disciplines. For a group that has been growing and improving, the realization is starting to hit that we have never heard stories of people doing a whole lot more than we can do right now. This is an odd kind of thing to understand. It’s perhaps more easily understood when we think of our weapons – extremely powerful magical items and yet they have been unable to penetrate the defenses of some of the creatures we’ve seen of late. Is there nothing more? We’ve been asking questions about that very topic.

Most common folk tend to reflexively refer to us by noble titles, but that has been the case since around 10th level really. Beyond that, each one varies a lot as to their reputation.

Dravot d'Chandagnac is arguably the most visible and widely known of the group. He is called the Living Saint Dravot. His face, name, and deeds are known by all priests of Pelor, and by the folk in areas where Pelor is worshipped. In the Great Kingdom and near his home of Brindinford, he is known as a rising political power as well. However his alliances are uncertain and unknown. He is surely feared partly as being an unknown element and as a servant of the church rather than his own political ambitions, and this makes him a wildcard. Off plane, he is widely known to Pelor’s celestial hosts, and probably to some fiends, especially those with undead ties.

Scorch is the head of the Grey Guild in Greyhawk, however he has not told the group that yet. If you are a powerful mage who has contact with others, you have surely heard his name. He is well known in Sigil also. Mordenkainen knows him enough to call him “an inept hedge wizard”. He’s not a household name, but if you move in circles of great magical power, you have certainly heard of him, and likely know more of his power than of his politics.

Valanthe walks the shadowy streets and dark places, and legends are easily born and spread in such conditions. In Greyhawk and Dyvers, countless mysterious happenings are attributed to her. She is an underworld figure who is often spoken of and never seen. (Mostly because she really hasn’t been doing half of what folks say.) She’s presumed by some to lead a vast criminal guild, by others to lead a small band of deadly assassins, and by still others to be masquerading as a political figure by day. On the shadow plane, her name is often spoken of, and she’s known for her willingness to make waves.

Bolo is one of the most powerful druids alive right now. (Dravot’s player aptly points out that a third level druid is also one of the most powerful druids alive right now.) However it will fall to Bolo to restore the old religion, and gather the few remaining practitioners back to the fold. If you are one of the few people left alive in druidic circles, then you know of Bolo. In time, his reputation will spread far however.

Aethramyr is called “The Paragon” by some. He’s very famous in the Lendore Islands, despite having never been there, and has some notice among the followers of Pelor as well. He’s also more known than most of us to the common man, especially around Greyhawk, Highfolk and Brindinford, where he’s a hero of Herculean stature. He’s very popular in the bardic tales and his name is well traveled and well respected. In general, an elven paladin who rides a dire wolf makes for a great story, and most of them are even true.

Kayleigh is a famous figure amonst the elves of Celene. Partly this is due to her “association” with a certain Prince, but just as much for her own accomplishments, which are legendary. In Greyhawk, Brindinford and Keoland her archery is almost beyond mortal ken. Most elves have at least heard of her, though with varying degrees of knowledge.

Oddly, the group has been largely involved in affairs off-plane recently, so their fame has grown while they’ve been busy. Likely they’ll get smacked in the face with it when they return to someplace like Greyhawk. Of course fame has its price, and the stories never tell you about how the heroes constantly had to be dodging various assassination attempts or other subtrifuge.


----------



## WizarDru

From the center of his web, the Spider snarled.  They would be coming.  So many schemes, laid bare.  So much effort, now wasted.  He had underestimated Gelban's adventurers, and it had cost him.  But they had help, more than once.  Someone, or some_thing_ was interfering where it was not welcome.  



*It would not DO.*



A finger snapped, a life snuffed out.  Let them come.  He would teach them the true meaning of horror.  He would show them what he had learned....from the shadows.  

_"Make ready.  Gelban's heroes will come.  We must see to an appropriate reception."_


Behind the Spider, a solitary figure began to laugh.  
There was no joy in it.  
But then, with the Archer, there never was.




*Join us for the next update, when we learn the true nature of the Shadow King, visit with some communist-hippie elves and enter into battle in the Dreaming itself.  Oh, and RogueEagle...thanks for the praise.  We always enjoy hearing from folks who enjoy our Story Hour, and I assure you we're not ready to lay down our swords for some time.  The group is quite attached to their characters, and we have a great time.  I didn't originally envision the game going beyond 20th, but that's because the rules didn't exist at the outset...in which case I would have fudged it, somewhat.  However, the arrival of Epic levels should make for some interesting twists and turns.  Stick with us, it's gonna be fun. *


----------



## Zad

*Interlude*

Interlude

The last month of doing basically nothing had been a wonderful respite. It seemed like we rarely had a chance to stop and catch our breath, and the time was made doubly pleasant by knowing that events on the Prime were on hold so there was no guilt at leaving something undone. But I was still glad to be back on the Prime. Bolo had a few matters to tend to in the grove and we would need to wait two days before we could speak to the Silverring in any case, so I had a little time to tend to my own affairs.

Ariadne seemed safe and happy so there were no concerns there. With the helm of teleportation in one hand, and Scorch’s crystal ball in the other (graciously loaned – I might need to get one of these some day) I was ready to head out. 

My first stop was to scry on Aran’gel. I found him easily enough and he was apparently hip deep in a fight with several twig horrors and a gulthite which suited me just fine. I appeared in mid air (for some reason I always get nervous about teleporting onto the ground – as if I might miss and land inside the dirt somehow) and joined in the fray. It wasn’t really necessary – they had the situation well in hand. But it was fun nonetheless, and quickly over. He smiled as he walked over to me, saying “And here I thought it was just mother checking on me again.” 

They had been tracking these horrors for the better part of the day, and they could rest a bit with them dead, so the men set up camp while we talked. He told me what had been happening lately. Generally the attacks had relented but several strike parties had been dispatched to put down groups of horrors and orcs. I mused on the notion that he had not returned to Highfolk and he only sighed and said that Celene needed him, and he would be there. 

I told him of Lord Gelban’s rescue. I probably spent more time babbling about the City of Brass or the dragon’s rituals than the actual rescue itself, but he didn’t seem to mind. He quietly noted that I had obviously come a long way, and I fell silent as it brought me to another topic.

After an awkward time, I said “I suppose I have,” and with that drew a single arrow from my quiver. It looked like my usual arrows, save that the fletching was black. It seemed a bit cliché, but still appropriate. I handed it to Aran’gel and he took it and turned it in his hands a few moments. It was safe enough – the death magic would not become active until I empowered the arrow in the act of firing it. But he knew what it was.

“You never told me about this. You never told me this was part of Corellean’s blessing, part of being a Champion.”

He didn’t flinch. “An arrow is often used to kill. This arrow is no different, just more direct in the application. It is a tool like any other, and is not evil on its own. As for telling you… it is not the custom. The Last Arrow is something each Champion learns for himself, should their flame burn that brightly. Many never know of its existence. I suppose I should have known you would find it someday.”

I just nodded. So it was a test, or perhaps not so much a test as a milestone. Fair enough.

“But there’s more you need to know about it.” His face took on a stern look. “You must never, ever use it against the undead.”

I blinked once or twice in confusion. “Why would I do anything as silly as that? The undead are immune to such things, being hampered by the fact that they’re already dead and all.” 

“You don’t understand. It is very dangerous. There are . . . consequences. If the Last Arrow is used on one of the unliving, it can open a rift to the negative energy plane. The results would be severe, and unpleasant.”

“Ahhhh.” I said, now understanding the nature of the warning. “Well, I doubt the occasion will arrive often to use it. Quite honestly, the strength of my spellcraft is rarely sufficient to overcome the kinds of foes I encounter these days. I think I was more chilled not by the actual use of the arrow but by the fact that it could be done.”

“There was however another reason I stopped by,” I said with a lighter mood returning.

“Oh?” Aran’gel was curious but wary. Smart man.

“We wanted to stop by the Lendore Isles and see the Mistress of the Guild of Sleep. But we’ve never been out that far, and no of nobody we could scry to see the area. You don’t happen to know anyone out there do you?”

He thought for a few moments and said that he did know someone, no, two people, who had received the Testing. It took him some effort and a fair bit of time (neither of us are adept scriers) but with the help of the crystal ball we managed to find one of the men – a fletcher named Hervin – standing at a fountain in what looked like a small square. I made careful note of the man and location.

After spending several hours with him and enjoying a good meal, I made preparations to leave. The farewells took some few minutes but unfortunately didn’t last longer. I bounced out of his arms and said farewell to the troops and just smiled at Aran’gel before I put on that dreadful helmet and teleported out.

We have GOT to do something about this helmet.

This time I landed at my parent’s home. My mother and the servants were getting more used to my abrupt arrivals and we chatted. Father wasn’t home yet from the armies but he was expected back soon, as many of the troops were standing down for now. I spent the night in a warm bed and in the morning headed for the palace.

The guards and functionaries melted away and I was quickly in audience with the Queen and Onselven. I informed her of the release of the Gilden and his re-assertion of his former position, but left the details out. The Queen surprised me by referring to Gelban at one point. I had never told her that Lord Gelban was The Gilden, nor had she mentioned she knew. But apparently she had for some time, and knew that things had changed recently with the dragons, so much of my information was only a confirmation. We spent some time trading information and getting each other up to date, and even a little time just talking. 

On the home front, The Queen and her long-suffering counselor have been balancing their time. Onselven has been acting as Captain-General, although there are now three theaters of war:  Melf has returned at last, and acts as general to the northern reaches, Aran'gel hunts the southlands, finding and eliminating the remaining twig horrors wherever they can be found, while my father leads a skirmishing force with a joint task-force from Urnst and Ulek along the eastern forests near the border with the Wild Coast. I was concerned about father briefly but he’d been doing this since before I was born, and he was probably safer than I was of late. 

The Duke of Geoff has managed to raise a large military force (bolstered by mercenaries from Keoland), and has driven forth to recapture Hochoch, south of the Dim Forest.  Chavram's forces, which are now indentified as the Duke’s second cohort, have not entered Geoff for an alliance, as the queen had suspected, but as a force for liberation!  Under his direction and direct intervention, Chavram's forces have managed to recapture Gorna, the capital city, and driven the giants into the Stark Hills and back into the Crystalmists.  The queen believes that the Duke of Geoff has made an alliance with Chavram, but what the details are, she couldn't say. Fascinating news to say the least. What is Chavram  up to?

I excused myself when we were through and returned to the Land of Black Ice, and we made preparations to teleport to the Lendores.


----------



## Zad

*The Crypt of the ShadowTaker - Chapter 1*

*The Crypt of the ShadowTaker - Chapter 1*

OOC Notes:
Exp is 3000

This Week’s Adventure:
Aethramyr was floating in the dreamscape when suddenly the landscape started resolving around him in scene not under his control. He saw two huge waterfalls running into a shallow valley from a high cliff.  Near the center, where the two waterfalls merge into a single river, is a lush green valley. An austere temple of white marble sits on the riverside, with banners of white and burnished gold dancing in the wind. He saw people – humans - in the area in white robes, chatting pleasantly with each other.  As he moved closer to investigate, he felt a sudden chill. The sun became obscured by black clouds and a dark wind descended into the valley, killing anyone it touched. The temple aged a century in the span of a second, and suddenly a figure appeared atop the highest of the now dark marble tiers. He was a gaunt figure dressed in black robes. From one hand, impossibly thin red wires stretched into the skies. He waggled a finger and a line went taught, and he jerked hard. Something came flying in – a human body with the wire forming a red loop around its neck. The gaunt being pulled the body onto himself, as if he were putting on a cloak. This new face wore black robes as well, but with distinct arcane symbols embroidered in silver thread. On the face was a mask with horns. 

The being snapped his fingers, and the dark clouds and shadow expanded, rushing out from him. The very ground collapsed and was drawn into the shadow, which came rushing straight at Aethramyr. He could feel Shatterspike suddenly in his hand, warmer than usual. The sword was fully energized and humming with power. The wave of shadow crashed onto the paladin but was stopped by an invisible wall – the protection of the sword. The rush of darkness swirled and a humanoid form emerged with burning red eyes. It was like a nightshade but darker. Over its back was a greatsword, made of the same crystal as the sword of Fellsoul, the fallen blackguard. The being drew the blade slowly and regarded Aethramyr, a silent challenge. 

The two beings attacked almost simultaneously. A flurry of strokes and parries as each penetrated the defenses of his opposite. The beast attacked with sword and even with a black claw, trying to suck the very light from the elven hero. But after several exchanges, Aethramyr saw his opening, and struck. Shatterspike sliced through the dark figure, and he exploded in a burst of light and shadow.

However the dark cloud had devoured the valley. The robed figure he saw had departed during the battle. Aethramyr could make out the standards still flying – they seemed to be symbols of Pelor but seemed old, as if relics. He tried to restore the valley and take control of the image but he was rebuffed and awakened with a start.

After he told me of this dream, I was silent. It seemed to me that his Lady had shown him the ShadowTaker, as he corrupted the temple where the Light of Reason was enshrined. I have no idea what he fought in the dreaming, or if the events were happening, or had happened long ago.  But it seemed to be a very good time to go to the Lendores.

According to the Platinar, the Silverring was expected to be awake on the following day. We decided rather than wait to go to the isles now, and have our discussions with the Mistress of Sleep. It seemed wiser to first have Aethramyr and me go and make sure there would be no problems with the rest of the group – the elves of the Lendores are well known for their isolationism. And so we departed.

There was some . . . difficulty with the teleportation. It was like trying to run through bedsheets hung up to dry. I could sense that Aethramyr had gone on ahead, even though we arrived simultaneously. Whatever barrier was there, either I worked my way through or it allowed me to pass, and we arrived safely in the square. 

Of course this caused a commotion. There were some three dozen people scattered about in conversation, some playing music. Upon our arrival, there was some outright panic, but Aethramyr quickly calmed the people down. This was something of a homecoming for him, even though he had never been here. I suspected he would be well respected here and I was not disappointed.  They called him The Paragon and were always deeply respectful, but not in a stuffy or officious way. They said that his quarters would be prepared if he wished it, and he thanked them.

Then Hervin, whom we’d landed near, said “I have chosen of myself to take on this duty. Who will offer to help?” A few others also declared they would help, and there was discussion and agreement. It seemed that the Lendores had a communal way of doing things. They indicated a dwelling that was perched up on a cliff, overlooking the ocean. It seemed to be a place of high honor and was just for Aethramyr. They assured Aethramyr it would easily accommodate him and his consort.

Now, if I hadn’t known better, I might have thought I was invisible. The fact that they noticed at all was some comfort I suppose, but despite Aethramyr’s correction, they seemed to have a hard time not just thinking of me as some kind of flunky of the Paragon. Actually this didn’t bother me in the least. This was a very special place, and one that thought very highly of Aethramyr, who certainly deserves it. I wasn’t about to be ruffled by any perceived slights when there was no ill will anywhere on these islands.

When we inquired about the protocols for our friends to join us, it was suggested we speak with someone in the Guild of Sleep, which was quite nearby.

The area was hardly urban in the sense of Dyvers or Greyhawk, but it did reach out quite a ways. The domed buildings stretched out across the area, a few with a second story – a second dome on top of the first. They were all plastered, and colored shell white, or coral pink. Tropical trees dotted the area. But it all seemed somehow… familiar. I had never been here before. And yet somehow I _knew_ this place. And it wasn’t a pleasant, warm feeling, but a disturbing memory.*

We were directed to a tall (comparatively) white marble building that was over the next valley. It was composed of rectangles rather than domes. The doors were wide open but there was nobody roaming around that we could see. Various symbols were carved on the marble, including the elven symbol for stone, which I particularly looked for, and the very prominent half-closed eyelid. As I sifted through the symbols looking, I found myself getting a big dizzy, and let it go. But when I looked at Aethramyr to mention the symbol, I saw it somewhere else – on his forehead. We shrugged at this and moved down to the temple.

On the doors were scenes of tranquil vistas, and tapestries with vision from dreams. As we entered, we saw four iron golems flanking the doors, their metal heads silently swiveling as they stared at us with a single half-closed eyelid on their wrought faces.  And then I felt something I never felt before. I felt … sleepy. Aethramyr has told me of sleep but I’ve never really understood it. But I felt a wave of it crash over me as we entered, and I had to shake off this new sensation. 

The interior was some hundred feet long and almost as wide, and covered in pillows and small sofas. Dozens of elves were here, all sleeping. In fact, we didn’t notice anyone who was awake at first. But as we moved in, we saw in the back one figure moving among the sleeping elves. He woke up one sleeper with a slap, and forced some water into him, then let him return to sleeping. We were quite close before he noticed us – the entire place seemed quieted somehow, but once he did, he politely introduced himself as the Prime Rouser. Apparently he and his Rousers care for the sleeping elves and makes sure they don’t die while journeying. He bowed deeply to Aethramyr of course. 

We inquired of the possibility of speaking to the Guild Mistress but he informed us that she has been asleep, and they have been unable to wake her. Indeed she does not wish to be awakened. This state has gone on for some months and this is of great concern. Apparently she has become somewhat violent when it has been attempted. It was apparent that something was wrong, and that she needed to be roused. Indeed they had one tried and many of the rousers had paid the price. Aethramyr and I debated the idea of trying to wake her but decided it would be better if we had the entire group assembled first. We asked about the difficulties in teleportation and there was indeed a cloak over the isles to help divert unwelcomed guests. The Prime Rouser said that there was a trade area on the northern part of the island where humans and others were permitted. The cloak did not extend there so our friends could teleport there and then move freely.

It took little enough effort and soon we were all assembled and back at the guild. We did see the arrival and departure of a ship of sea elves that did some brief commerce. Lovely creatures but very wary of strangers. The humans of course drew some stares and the people were not very happy with their presence, but the Paragon’s presence carried even greater weight, and there were no objections. 

But still I was haunted as I moved through the islands. That same feeling of familiarity. Of a disturbing recollection of being here and being unable to place it. The harder I tried to remember, the more uncomfortable it became.

We proceeded to the inner chambers of the Guild. We were unescorted – there were few formalities in the Lendores. We passed a long corridor with side chambers containing more sleepers in large, jade colored eggs. One had a pair of guards stationed in front but they paid us little mind. We entered another chamber. Inside the entire room was a single frescoe with blue skies and scattered clouds. On the clouds, strange creatures rested napping, and my mind had to stretch to understand how real creatures seemed to be resting on painted clouds. On the far side was another set of doors. In the center of the room floated a human woman in a bright yellow simple dress. Her hair floated out as if she was underwater and sparkling golden motes dotted through her hair. As we entered, she floated closer, shifting shape to a beautiful wood elf. 

The sleeping creatures grew restless with our presence. A brief exchange followed between Aethramyr and the woman, who clearly did not want to be awakened. It only took moments before the woman and the creatures were attacking us. 

We tried to avoid attacking the woman directly but the creatures were only questionably real anyway and we started removing them from the room. After several blows they would fall apart into a wispy ether. We had the sense that the Guild Mistress was not actually here either and looked to the doors beyond. But there was still magic and a force cage snapped into being around Bolo. The cage also managed to block off the doors, further increasing our suspicion. Scorch disintegrated the doors, then Bolo just shifted to a cat and slipped out the bars into the other room. Four iron golems were in that chamber as well, and began stirring. There was also a large stone bier in the room but I hardly noticed. I threw a dimension door to get me inside to start dealing with the golems, but soon the whole situation changed.

Aethramyr stood before the Mistress, and slapped her soundly across the face, infusing his touch with Sehanine’s power.

“You know who I am. If not, you know who I serve. This is unbecoming of you,” he said.

And then, she blinked. She looked around ever so briefly, then vanished. The iron golems reverted to their guarding postures. And then light began streaming out of the stone bier, and the slab atop it rose up revealing something similar to the egg interiors. On the lip of the chamber a single hand appeared – it was a hideous green and covered in sores, and a night hag soon rose from the chamber. But on the stone around her neck was carved the symbol of Sehanine. Aethramyr helped her from the chamber while I fetched the Rouser to see to her needs, and soon things were much more cordial.

She apologized for her conduct and was quite glad we came. Something or someone had disrupted her dreaming process. She had been trying to investigate more about our enemies and they discovered her and counterattacked.  Not many beings have the ability to strike back in the dreaming, but this enemy is one. 

When we asked which enemy (as we have so many lately) she said something that left even Scorch dumbfounded.

The enemy was the Shadow King. But the Shadow King is nothing more or less than the shadow of Therizdun himself. Therizdun remains in the dreamcatcher prison that Sehanine, Pelor and Heironious put him in. However the prison does have weaknesses and Therizdun casts a shadow. For such a being, even their shadow has great power. The Shadow King is that shadow. 

The prison likely needs to be strengthened. You would need the Theerparts to do this however. But she warned us never to unlock the prison. A warning was hardly required of course.

So the Shadow King is the shadow of Therizdun. I could scarcely grasp the idea and we sat silently taking it in for a bit. Aethramyr turned to me and said “You know how the Shadow King has always managed to keep himself off the top of our ‘list of things to do’? Well he just moved up.” I could only laugh and nod. Aethramyr took out his flask, loaded with something particularly potent, and took a pull. And as far as I’m concerned, if it was good enough for the Paragon, it was good enough for me.

By now the Guild Mistress was feeling a bit better and she shifted to the shape of an elven woman, and we discussed the Theerparts a bit. When last she checked, one was in a protected place she could not see. The omens indicated that the Paragon had it however, which we did. The second was in a city of madness. She wasn’t sure where that was, but it was under the control of powerful undead. As one we all flatly said “Rauxes”. This too we had already heard of. The third part she believed was under Iuz’s control, but he had given it to one of the Greater Bonehart for keeping. She suspected from the visions of cracked shields that it lies within the Shield Lands. We knew from our own divinations that the Red Lord had one of the parts in him, and believe it is he in Rauxes.

Then the Guild Mistress told us of her visions of us. She has had consistent visions of us, walking in circles on a spider’s web. Consistently we have seen the flies, but have never turned inward and seen the spider. But now for the first time we have noticed the spider.

There could be many spiders, but the one we have noticed of late, and hence the key one, was the ShadowTaker. She knows of him, but not a great deal. He does not dream. The Silverring has mentioned him once or twice – a creature of the old world. It is said he could capture the souls of the living and eath them. Apparently through his skill in binding souls, he helped to create the binders. Great power indeed. 

This brought us to the Silverring, who we had also come to see. The Guild Mistress said that the same thing that kept her sleeping was also keeping the old dragon asleep as well. With her awake, he too should be rousing soon. At this point I threw a shoe, as my father used to say about the horses. “But we came here today specifically because we were told the Silverring would be waking. The Platinar told me so.”

The dreamer shrugged “The Platinar likely did a divination which said the Silverring would be waking tomorrow. And thanks to you he will.” 

“But if we hadn’t been told he would be waking, we wouldn’t have come. How can…”

Scorch reached over and put a hand on my shoulder, saying “Such is the nature of the divinity. If you really want the explanation I can give it to you.” He said the last with his school-teacher voice, making it clear that while he could explain it, I probably didn’t want to know. Valanthe also seemed puzzled by the paradox, but the rest of the group simply accepted it. I knew enough at least to let it go, and we went on.

Since we had discussed everything else, I couldn’t help but ask. “I cannot shake a feeling I have had since I arrived here. I have never before been to these lands, and yet they seem somehow familiar. I cannot recall why, and I’m chilled by a dark feeling any time I try to see through the veil. Could you tell me why this is?”

The dreamer looked closely at me, saying “I am not sure why you have these feelings, but when I am rested we can look further into it. I can guide you on a meditation to find your answer.” I was very grateful for this, and at least for the time being could put it out of my mind.

A feast was held in Aethramyr’s honor that night. It was both respectful and yet fun and social at the same time. It was a first hand look at the high esteem in which they held Aethramyr and it gave me great joy to see it. So often are the vile revered that it was a true delight to see honors paid to someone who deserved them more than any I’d met. There was music and dancing aplenty, and I had a wonderful time personally. There were no less than three dozen women (I counted) and no small number of men all vying for an opportunity to get to know the Paragon in a more intimate manner, but I avoided taking notice of how many, if any, succeeded. I do recall Bolo at dinner making a comment that it was too bad he was a paladin, and all I could do was smile and laugh. “And who told you all paladins were chaste?” I asked him, and he just flushed a little then started laughing himself.

During the celebrations, one of the respected elves (there were no leaders per se, just those who’s voice carried weight) showed Aethramyr and I a cave. Inside, he said, the Silverring sleeps but they do not disturb him. I debated going up and waking him for the feast, but thought better of it.

All in all, a wonderful evening. 

Most of the natives didn’t get up until well after dawn. Personally I saw no reason to rush myself. But after a time, we were informed that the Silverring had roused and we met with him at the Guild hall. We sat down and got straight to business. Since the Silverring had already heard from Lord Gelban, we went on to the ShadowTaker.

The Silverring told us that before he had taken that name, he was much more cautious. He also verifed that indeed he had been a critical architect in the construction of the binders. 

The light of lust shone in Scorch’s eyes at that. He piped up “But he has plans and such for making binders?” The Silverring just sighed and patronizingly said “I’m glad to see that your experiences have only changed you _so_ much Scorch,” and went on. 

The Silverring had actually met the ShadowTaker once, back when he warned the Sule and Bakluni that their magic was getting out of control. The ShadowTaker was a master of bindings, of takings, and of control. He made puppets of people. He was one of the first specialists, back when humans had only just learned to exceed the elves in some ways. There were some matters that the elves were wise enough not to explore after all.  The ShadowTaker sought to enhance the magic he wielded and offered his services to the Sule. He taught them much of bindings and helped build the binders. He also schemed to twist the original contract. The Princes were not originally to be bound for so long, but thanks to a twist in wording or a hidden clause, they are now effectively bound forever. Those who knew of the contrcts no longer exist unfortunately so there is no ready way to learn more of them.  

The Silverring believes the ShadowTaker has acted directly in the Flaness, but as near as he knows has never left his stronghold.  He has spent centuries burying himself so he cannot be found, and has tried to keep it so nobody knows enough about him to seek him out. He has operated actively for the last 200 years in some capacity. Indeed it says something interesting that we have learned of him and something of his involvement, but I’m not entirely sure what. It may say something of our power, or our keen eye, or research, or perhaps of the ShadowTaker being sloppy. Or perhaps, I’m forced to wonder, he’s allowed us a glimpse in order to somehow manipulate or destroy us. 

An image was building up in my mind of the ShadowTaker. Based on all that we had heard, it seemed he was able to capture someone’s soul, and then later use that soul to impersonate them in some way. I was unsure if he could command the soul to act or had to control it himself, but he definitely seemed to have some ability to control souls he had taken.

Once the conversation was over, the Mistress and I turned our attention to the subject of why this place seemed familiar to me. Aethramyr stayed to help, and the Mistress began guiding me through a waking dream which she and Aethramyr shared. The memories became more solid, and the vision became more clear. I can recall the memory directly of being here. More disturibing was the “when”. I, or at least my spirit, was here when I died. Why had I not ascended to a higher plane? The Mistress said “This is most unusual. This was given to you as a vision. It was given to you. By someone.” She concentrated trying to penetrate the veil. “The vision was given to you by…”

“That would be me.” We snapped to full consciousness with a start. The voice came from behind me, from an elf, leaning against one of the iron golems, who were completely inert. Where his face was, there was a mask. Half was white and smiling, while the other half was black, and sad.

Olidamarra. 






_(This is the second time the group, specifically Kayleigh, has encountered Olidamarra. You can read it here in A Well Earned Rest - Chapter 2  The link might take you straight there or might not - it's not always working.)_

_* Note for Story Hour Readers:  Kayleigh died in Nightfang spire, the first of the group to fall. While she was dead she had an unusual experience. Unfortunately that experience was never published to the story hour and never appeared in Kayeligh’s journal, since she forgot it when she was returned from the dead. Fortunately I did record it in my own notes, and here it is:




			I found myself in a strange place. It was hardly a village – the buildings were all small squat things. And the ocean was somewhere nearby. The buildings were made of some type of solid sand it seemed. It was nothing like I had ever seen but it was definitely elven construction.  I saw a number of figures moving about but none seemed to pay any attention to me. Many had a medallion with a strange symbol on it. 

It was then I realized I was floating off the ground a bit. Oddly, this didn’t concern me.

I was also slightly dizzy, as if having had something to drink. Upon realizing this I decided that having something to drink might be just the thing and looked for an appropriate venue.  I saw one rather quickly but was unable to pass through the outer wall. Another patron walked up and the sand seemed to just melt away just before they reached the wall and reform behind them.

I managed to haul myself in through a window, and it was certainly a bar.  However it was at that point I realized that since no one seemed to see me, getting service would be problematic, and I hauled myself out the same window.

Having little else to do, I looked for any kind of major structure or religious center. I already had the feeling I was somewhere in the Lendore Isles and the vague tickle of my memory about far off elven lands and worshippers of Sehanine (or was it another deity?) nagged at me.

I spotted a rather major structure with little effort. Inside I found several men in brown robes standing before a swirling vortex of blue energy.  I was unsure if these men would have any greater awareness of me than anyone else, but it seemed not. They were unresponsive to my words. I tried to touch one and had an impact but less than I should have. He seemed to notice this but blamed it on some Brother playing tricks on him.

However this all came to a halt as an elf in full plate emerged from the portal. He looked very confused as to where he was. The men began speaking with him. I personally was more interested in the vortex of energy. I started to move towards it but then felt a tugging behind me. I ignored it for the moment and moved closer to the vortex but the tugging grew stronger. 

I knew in my heart (or lack thereof) what it was. I was gradually realizing I was dead. However this was hardly what I imagined the afterlife to be.  I debated resisting the pull briefly. But I resigned myself to it and gave in, and the world flew by me so fast I could scarcely see it.

And I awoke to a gigantic furry face not an inch from my own. As my soul settled into my body I could feel Rasha again and with that his relief and warmth to have me back.  And his raspy tongue on my cheek. When I could finally see around him rubbing against me, I saw Dravot and another cleric standing over me, and Scorch nearby. Dravot seemed relieved I had decided to come back.

I moved to sit up, but quickly regretted it. Dravot said something about still being weak after the ordeal and healed my body but I was still exhausted.  The clerics of Pelor returned me to my apartment in the moon tower at the estate, under Dravot’s supervision.  The visions I saw while dead were suddenly cloudy and fading. [OOC Note: In character I can’t remember it well but I’m leaving in the journal for historical purposes.]
		
Click to expand...


_


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## Tantra

*Lendore Isles.*

No place has ever really felt like home, but this came close. Even in the bright daylight on the Lendores, Her power is strong, almost a tangible thing. Kayleigh said That there was a Curtain, slowing her arrival from the teleport, but I felt drawn here. Odd as it seems, I had the vaguest sense of arriving before her. 

Normally we cause a lot of commotion when we arrive after a teleport, and this was no exception. Once the initial shock wore off, someone shouted "The Paragon" and things quieted down. I can appriciate how Dravot feels, going home, when it seems like you are suddenly the most important person around. I never had a taste for that kind of adulation...well, that much adulation. Every once in a while, I am blatantly reminded of my elven heritage. 

We speak with Harvin, and get directions on how get to the Guild of Sleep. He also promises to prepare the quarters that have been set aside for me and my companions. The language seems someone stilted and almost ritualized, but upon reflection, it's also very egaltarian. He volenteered for the duty, along with several others. It was never assigned to anyone, and anyone who wanted assist were free to accept the duty. It was amusing that he assumed Kayleigh was my consort, and we shared a private laugh on the scales before telling him the truth.
 We found the guild of sleep, and Kayleigh and I managed to secure permission for the rest of our friends to arrive. 

One of the things we learned from the Prime Rouser was that the Headmistress of the guild was trapped in the dreaming. I felt having our full group together, with all our insights and specialties, would stand a better chance of waking her. The stares as we walked back from the docks, where they could arrive, were few, but still present. 

We arrived back at the guild, and set about exploring, trying to find the Guildmistress. there were several Elves completly asleep, not in trance, which was interesting. There was an air about this place that seemed to promote sleep, but it was the furthest thing from our minds at the moment. A nother room contained several sleepers in large, jade colored eggs, until we came to the room With the Guild Mistress.

Or, at least, her Dream-self. Her, as a Human women, and several other Dreams of animals with tiny wings, were in the room. A brief exchange told what we needed to know: That she did not want to be wakened, and she was getting more agitated at our presense. This didn't seem right for this place, and I thought that we would be best by withdrawing to the outter rooms and then trying to find the dreamer. Scorch had the exact same idea, but without the "Withdrawing to the outter room" part, and started to scry her. This enraged the Dream-woman, who had transformed to an elven woman now, and she and the other dream-creatures attacked. 

This I wasn't in the mood for. This is supposed to be a safe haven, dedicated to Sehanine Moonbow, and attacking my friends was not just apalling, but personally embaressing to me. My anger rose, and the dream creatures attacking us were a good direction to release some of it. A strike by these creatures caused me to lose some of my mental focus, which only served to further rise my anger, and after watching 2 golems nearly flatten Bolo, that anger needed focus. The creatures had been dispatched, leaving only the Dream-representative of the Guild leader, and with a Slap accross her face, infused with My Lady's Power, I hissed, "You know who I am, and if not, who I serve. Attacking me, here, is Unbecomming of YOU!" 

The Dream image stepped back, and with a sudden look of Horror and recognition, winked out. The Iron Golems in the next room ceased there assault on the Cat-shapped bolo, and calm returned. I composed myself, asked one of my companions to get the prime rouser, and proceeded to finally meet the real guild mistress. 

She thanked us, as it seems she was unable to Leave Sehanine's lands on her own, and had been trapped there for some weeks. She explained who the Shadow King was, And that he was the actual shadow of Theruzden, given life. She also  gave us insight as to the nature of the shadow taker.  I did ask one favor of her, when we had a moment. Since she is powerful enough to bring dream essence here, I asked for what scorch called a "Dimensional Focus" for the Dreaming. I'm not sure how much he knows of the Dimension of dreams, but I do know of it's dangers, so I've not told him I have it yet. 

She also said that what we did would allow the Silvering to awaken tommorow, wich was odd because we only came because we were told he would awaken tommorow. The logic of the divinations was bewildering, and scorches explanations did little to help.

What did help was the Feast held in my honor. I have always enjoyed Elven celebrations, and this was no exception. I agreeded with Kayleigh that Dancing is much more entertaining with other elves who know how to dance. Valenthe seemed to be more entertained by my discomfort at having to keep the peace between the pretty maidens competing for my attention than with the rest of the proceedings, but I don't think there were the three dozen that Kayleigh Claimed. Logically, if there were that many, they could not have all been as beautiful as they were. And if my bed was warmer that night despite the ocean breeze, well, as Kayleigh asked Scorch "...who told you all paladins were chaste?”


----------



## Argent Silvermage

The Islands were breath taking. I had never been to an Island like this before. The animals and plants were new and different. I saw Dolphins playing off the coast and decided to join them I almost never get to use my aquatic forms so this was a pleasure I intended to enjoy all day. Perhaps I was just a little hurt by the Elves on the Island. I have grown used to Kayleigh telling me I'm "just a polymorphed Halfling" but the Elves here could tell I was different. it was "the way he walked" in the beginning but I heard them whispering among themselves. I needed to get away from people for a while. The Dolphins were most accepting of me.

While we were swimming and leaping above the waves I saw a ship emurge from the waters at the islands docks. The ship just sailed up from the bottom of the ocean and docked. It was a Sea Elf vessel and I was most interested in meeting them. I could maybe learn some of their magics of find if they had a member of the Old Religion with them. but they were gone before I could reach them. 

I fear I'm just a being without a race anymore. Maybe I should just stay with the dolphins.


----------



## Zad

*The Crypt of the Shadow Taker Chapter 1.5*

*The Crypt of the ShadowTaker - Chapter 1.5*

The Laughing Rogue struck his finger against the inert golem, igniting it like a tindertwig.  His other hand produced a long and twisted pipe from out of nowhere, which he proceeded to light.  He placed it against his signature mask, which moves as if it were his true face...and perhaps it is.  Placing it into his mouth, he took a long draw, and then breathed out a strange shape of smoke, like some multi-legged dragon which hung for a moment in the air before it dissipated.  He sauntered over in my direction, his movements echoed by some distant sound of jester's bells and clinking cups.

"Love what you've done with the place, Marssis,"  he said, admiring the Dreamer's chambers.  "Not haggy at all.  A tad innocent for my tastes, though it certainly more fun than most of this drab place.  I mean, could Moonbow have drained more fun out of the place and not made you all goblins?"

He turns around and regarded me and the Dreamer with a twisted smirk. "But hey, enough about you!  Let's talk about me!  It's my favorite subject! We both know you were about to do some silly commune or something, and I don't have time to dicker around with all that nonsense.  Makes my head itch, and it's much harder to appreciate spirits that way.  Speaking of which, if you folk don't start leaving me my due at the feast table, there's going to be a lot more turned wine around here."

"So, what do you want to know, kid?"

A look of dread had flashed across my face when I turned and saw him, but by now it had been replaced with a slight smirk, mixed with curiousity and amusement. This was partly because I was amused, and partly because I was quite sure I wouldn’t get anywhere if I wasn’t ready to appreciate the joke. "So why would the Laughing Rogue want to detour the soul of a simple little elf girl when she died?" I blinked a bit to add extra innocence.

"Simple little elf girl?  You mean YOU?  HA!  Never kid a kidder, sweetheart.  Last time I checked, simple little elf girls didn't drop six elementals with one bow draw.  Never mind the fairy tale 'princey' stuff.  I won't even get into the extra-planar adventures."

I just blinked a bit more as if to say “Who me?” He drew on the pipe again, this time releasing several shapes that resembled the binders.

"Why'd I send you here?  Why not?  Hah!  Just kidding.  I needed you here so I could get you...situated.  Attuned, you might say.  I knew you'd find the testing portal eventually...but even I was amazed when you just stumbled into it.  I figured you'd be there for days soaking up the rays...but no, you get the energy all in one shot.  Then, before I can do anything else, Pelor gets his hooks into you, and reads me the riot act.  Gramps is a pain, that's for sure."

My brow wrinkled a moment, still wrestling with these new memories. "Why would you want me attuned, and attuned to what? The testing portal? That blue vortex? I never even got to touch it - at least I don't think I did. What energy, and what was it supposed to do?"

"Attuned to the Lendores, and these 'cheery' folk.  The vortex does their little off-world testing and then spits 'em up here.  You get close enough, if you're an elf, and it 'energizes' you.  Makes you much easier to keep track of.  And other things.  And I needed a way out, sister.  Thanks to you, I got one.  Don't think I'm not grateful, mind you.  But you haven't liked my gratitude so far, so I figured I'd give you a break."

Then I took a breath and asked what I suppose was more on my mind. With something of a smile "What precisely is your interest in me?"

"Interest in you, sugarlump?  Zip.  Zilch.  Nothing.  My interest is in much bigger things.  Messing up other people's plans, throwing wrenches in the works, that sort of thing.  You're just another means to an end.  And since I already had my hooks into you, what with the whole 'bonding' thing...it was an easy choice."

"What bonding?" I started. Then I stopped and sighed. I realized then that it wasn’t going to be enough to just ask what I wanted to know, even if I could figure it out. A being like Olidamarra would answer without really explaining. If I was going to learn anything much, I’d need to coax out the answers. To do that, I needed to think a little more like he did. The joke was clearly the thing with him. But it’s not funny if nobody else knows enough to laugh.  "I'm sure you have no end of amusements in mind to disrupt people's schemes. But I'm no less puzzled than when we began, and I'm sure that's quite by design. However you did bother to come here, and I'd guess that you have two purposes in doing so - to explain, and to gloat a bit. Of course without the explanation, I can't even begin to appreciate the depths of your wit and cunning, being nowhere near as sly as the trickster himself. Perhaps you can enlighten me so that I can appreciate the depths and genius of your plans?” There was only the tiniest hint of sarcasm in my voice, just to show I wasn’t taking myself completely seriously.

"Well, my dear, I used you for a free ride.  I needed out of that prison, and you were the only thing going.  And let's not forget, you came into my cage, not the other way around.  Plus, you have to understand, I'm no more  Olidammara than you are the whole of the elven people.  I'm a piece, a part, a sliver...you follow me, here?  Even I don't know what I'm on about, half the time."

“That makes two of us” I thought.

"Look, it's simple.  After I'd been tagging along with you for a while, I figured certain things out.  You folks were going places.  Still are.  So you wanna know why I brought you here?  I already told you, I was still bonded to your soul.  I latched onto you, but I couldn't break free...not without destroying you, and maybe getting pulled back into the prison.  So when you...ah, decided to get a 'mummy-manicure', I took advantage of the situation.  I knew you could be drawn to the Lendores, if I pushed things a bit.  And I knew they had a direct connection both to your pal’s goddess and the eldritch energies herein.  A no-brainer."

"Since then, I've been looking out for you, occasionally.  You remember the gnolls?  That was me.  Remember when you thought your ran into the Silvering in Dyvers, on your way to Brindinford?  I made it happen, sweetums.  Those visions about Rauxes?  I think you're getting the pattern, here.  I’ve been helping you left and right.  I mean, did you really think you could break a major binder by just doing some crazy stuff for old Ral'? Crazier than a
bedbug, that one.  'Course, he got his meathooks in your sneaky friend, or I'd used her instead.  She's my kinda gal."

He had a pretty solid point there about the binder. But he went on, clearly warming to the topic.

"That's why I kicked your butt into high gear.  You want to know what triggered your little archer's nock?  Go ahead, guess, I got time.  Who do you think kept your puppy-eyed love alive on the way back?  You got time, I got plenty more.

"Now, before you spout out more elfy-flattery, I'll tell you the why, up front.  Because I like to mess with other people's plans.  Because I have my own plans, and you folks are a part of 'em.  And because it's really more
fun for me than you can imagine." 

I stopped a moment, digesting what I’d heard. I took a sip from a nearby wine glass that was supposed to be for after the meditation. I said aloud, mostly for myself "So thanks to us, you've gotten a get-out-of-jail free card for a fraction of yourself, and the endless amusement of being able to muck about in the plans of all sorts of beings, from mortal to fiendish. And now that I've been drawn back to the Lendores, you can break free from the bond and find even more amusing trouble to get in to. Meanwhile for the time you've been carried along, you've watched over me and us, helped in several key ways, unlocked my talents, kept my . . . prince alive…” I paused, deliberately avoiding calling him a puppy “… and out of too hideously much trouble, and so on."

He just nodded and grinned a bit so I went on. "So happens what now? You continue to keep an eye on us as a venue to further your amusements? Not that I have a particular problem with that at all – mostly just wondering"  And I was mostly just wondering. I confess that after the first encounter I had dreaded every seeing Olidamarra again, but I had been through a lot since then, and the actual reality of it was far less disturbing than I might have expected.

He stood up excitedly. "Well, now, that's the beauty of it, buttercup!  I have no idea!  I'm thinking of scuppering off to Iuz's backyard for a day or two, set some fires.  Then I'll go put a bug up Cuthbert's nose.  Big nose...so I guess it'll have to be a big bug.  Ladybug, maybe.  Butterfly's good, too.  Folks think they're real cute...until they see it's face up close when it's five feet high.  Then it scare the Murlynd right out of them."

He had the most amusing way of going off on tangents.

"Maybe I'll make some changes to Castle Greyhawk.  Or not.  I never know where the wind 'll take me.  Mucking in your affairs though, probably not. You've got your own dates to keep, and thanks to you, the dragons are in a
right tizzy.  Good and Bad ones!  Couldn't ask for a finer kettle of fish, really.  So you can see why I felt justified in choosing you.  You're chaos in a bottle.  And I mean that in a nice way, you understand."

I bowed my head to the side and raised my glass in thanks for the compliment. Olidimarra is praising my mucking about in people’s plans? High praise indeed.

"So I figure in a minute or two I'll start time working again, so your little sleepy-head friend here can move and speak again, and then I'll be on my merry little way." As he said that I noticed the Dreamer Prime hadn’t just been quiet but she was in fact motionless and inactive.  "So you need anything else, silly little elf girl?"

I mused for a moment. "I suppose not. Although now that I know you've been along for the ride all this time, I suppose I will miss it a bit"

Then I stopped short with a new thought. "Oh wait. I suppose there is one other thing - you said I didn't like your
gratitude. Probably right. At least now I ca n appreciate it. So for your help all these times - thank you." Again I gave him a nod and toast. "Perhaps you'll stop in now and again so I can hear what new schemes you've been up to?" Frankly I couldn’t imagine anything more amusing than listening to the latest antics of Olidimarra from the rogue himself. Sounded like the perfect thing when the seriousness of the world was becoming too much.

He took an overly showy bow, not quite comic, but definitely not too serious. "Two words, m'dear.  Bad Copper.  They say that's what I'm like."

So saying, he tossed me a small copper coin with his symbol upon it.  He then drew deep on his pipe.  Then deeper.  Deeper still...until he sucked himself into his pipe, and his pipe (an intricate piece of bone-work with a
grinning gnoll at the end) fell to floor, extinguished.  And he was gone.

I picked up the pipe from where it fell, and said quietly to it “If you enjoyed the dragons, I’m sure you’ll enjoy the ShadowTaker adventure.” And with a smile I tucked away the pipe and the coin, just as time lurched into motion again. Nowhere near as bad as I might have imagined. Not at all. 

In fact, I found myself somewhat looking forward to the next time.


----------



## Zad

*The Crypt of the ShadowTaker - Chapter 3*

*The Crypt of the ShadowTaker - Chapter 3*

OOC Notes:
Exp is 5400

This Week’s Adventure:
The world suddenly sped up around me, and the Dreamer Prime looked up with a start, seeing that I had moved from where I was and was now holding a glass of wine.

I thanked her deeply for her help. It was much more… enlightening than I had expected. Apparently my memories of this place stem from while I was dead, and the reason I was here was due to Olidamarra. The playfulness of the rogue must have worn off on me a bit, and I said “He specifically complimented you on this place. He said ‘Love what you’ve done with the place Marssis. Not at all _haggy_’.” 

The Dreamer Prime just looked back at me with a blank, confused stare. I shrugged. “I don’t understand how or why these things always seem to happen, but they do. I’m getting used to it finally.” 

By now there was a commotion outside, and I raised my glass as if it proved my point. We went to see what the fuss was, and apparently it was about Valanthe. Over the last while, her skin had been turning progressively black. It was something like how the earth symbol was manifesting on Aethramyr’s forehead – something about this place. She didn't look quite like a drow, but she could probably pass for one in a bad light.  Her skin seemed to absorb light, somehow, and her eyes have changed color to a silver/grey, as she looked more like her shadows than anything else. We just ignored it and made preparations to depart.  Before we did however, Dravot revealed some interesting information. He had communed with Pelor, and one of his questions was whether Zera/Zara was an agent of the ShadowTaker. The reply: Unclear.

I admit the same thought had gone through my mind. If the ShadowTaker uses people like puppets, then it’s hard to be sure of anyone, especially those who have encountered him. This seemed to be a case where being aware of the danger was the best that could be done; we would need their help to find the crypt, and they would be quite put out if we went without them. So with an even firmer commitment to be on our guard, we teleported to Brindinford to retrieve them, and the next day went to Ekbir.

The disturbing part was that while the mark on Aethramyr's forehead was slowly fading, Valanthe's appearance stayed the same.

We decided to avoid the cities, to maximize our potential for surprise. There was little we would learn there without drawing attention to ourselves anyway. We landed on a stretch of road that we had traveled during our initial journey to the Land of Black Ice, and wind walked over the grasslands in the direction of the rivers.

Over the next hour we descended gradually and came to the Blashikmund river. On the far side the terrain became denser, with a great many rock outcroppings, some forming foothills. The rocks were large chunks of pyrite. Scorch commented that it was unusual to see such large natural chunks, but they had been here for some time and he theorized that it had something to do with the fallout from the Rain of Colorless Fire. We continued moving westward and saw larger and larger pieces. Zera indicated that according to some records that her and her brother had studied, the rocks had not always been here. 

Soon we were in the correct general area. However the landscape looked nothing like Aethramyr’s vision. Of course we didn’t really think it would be easy to find, and began looking about for some kind of illusion or concealment. Bolo was looking out over the terrain attempting to find any irregularities, and he suddenly felt a splitting pain between his eyes and it took him a minute to shake it off. I was looking about for the telltale signs of an illusion, carefully scanning the rivers, and I felt the same thing. Fortunately there were no further ill effects for either of us. 

Dravot decided to cut the Gordian knot, and cast a True Seeing. The deception was soon revealed in Pelor’s light. The river had been reworked such that the rivers met once, then split and then met again. In this middle area, there was more than just an illusion but a warping of space that concealed this pocket such that an aggressor could walk around for ages and never know how close they were. The temple backed against the wall of a hill, and looked passingly like what Aethramyr had seen. Clearly time and the ShadowTaker had changed a great deal. There were a series of pyrite columns arrayed before the temple, no doubt forming something of the defense, and on the hillside into which the temple was built, there was a coating of pyrite, as if rocks had been placed there and fused together. Scorch confirmed that generally pyrite has no magical properties, but the ShadowTaker must know something else, as it seemed that he went to a lot of trouble in doing this.

The temple itself looked more like sandstone than marble now, but the cupola still stood on top with its oddly slanted stained glass windows. (Dravot said that lying along the river, such temples also often served as lighthouses.) We prepared for a fight and advanced carefully.

Valanthe and I were the first to pick up the scent of electricity and to feel an odd thrumming in the air. We could make out a shape, that wasn’t anything in itself but more defined by the small arcs of electricity that shot up and down the form. It seemed vaguely draconic but with many legs, and it darted quickly through the air diving at us. As it shot forward, to one side we made out another. This one had no electricity but was more like a ripple in the air. Considerably less subtle was one that rose from the ground without disturbing it. It was like a massive dragon but with ten or twelve legs and seemed made of or coated with pyrite.  With a splash, another one emerged from the river with a squeal, flowing as much as it was walking. They had huge mouths and the spark of cunning in their eyes. 

Four beasts. One of earth, one of water, one of lightning, and one of what I supposed was sonic energy. Impressive. I looked about for a fire beast but saw none. I decided now was a good time to try out that new mirror image spell, and I couldn’t have been more right.

The electrical one shot forward at amazing speed and in a single motion, swallwed Aethramyr. To my right, the sonic monster ate Scorch the same way. The earth beast, rather than eating Thorkeld, merely snatched him its serpentine neck. Immediately, things were not looking good.

In another flash, the lightning monster ate Dravot, while the sonic one let loose a screeching weapon. Things were moving by in a fast blur and rapidly getting worse. I opened fire on the closing water dragon, hoping that the fire arrows would hurt it more. The shots were solid, and it gushed a bright red blood, but it was still charging fast. But leave it to Scorch. He decided that while he remove himself from the beast, it would be easier to just remove the beast and promptly put the sonic monster in the maze. 

Valanthe had leapt up and landed on the back of the stone monster and slammed a flask of acid on it, and the beast let out a screech and dropped Thorkeld. It turned around and proceeded to swallow Valanthe. I was sure it’d have a hard time holding her though. The water beast snapped at me, but it only caught one of my images, and I uttered a silent thanks for that. Valanthe’s shadows came up along side the watery one, and started sapping the strength from it.  

Inside the electrical beast, Aethramyr and Dravot seemed to be doing a fair bit of harm, as the monster was twitching and writhing in the air. Likely more than the thing had bargained for. But there was still something disturbingly wrong with the battle, and I had a great sense of unease. But I suddenly realized what was wrong – Bolo had not yet been swallowed whole.

The situation was immediately corrected however, and Bolo found himself inside the belly of the lightning beast with Aethramyr and Dravot. 

The situation was dangerous. I was trying to hold off the water beast with only the shadows to help, Dravot, Bolo, and Aethramyr were inside the lightning beast, and Valanthe, Thorkeld and Zera were trading blows with the earth one. At least we had some time til the sonic one returned. We were thinly spread out and these were massive creatures. But we started gaining ground.

I let loose a full volley at point blank range, and the water beast sprayed blood and watery fluid everywhere and collapsed. Valanthe dumped more stonebreaker acid on the earth monster, then Scorch got a hold monster onto it and Zera killed it. The electrical one was finding that its lunch was still very dangerous – the churning acid was painful, but Dravot’s Mass Heal kept them all in fighting form inside. The monster snapped at me but another image winked out. (By then I was down to only one image left but it had served well.) Then suddenly the thing burst open as Shatterspike sliced through the side in three deep cuts and the thing just dropped onto the ground dead.

We had a few moments to heal before the last one was expected to return from the maze and then took positions around where it had winked out. When it reappeared, its life was frighteningly short, and even the unharmed thing was not able to stand the full onslaught of our party, and it was quickly killed.

Scorch looked at them for a bit and decided they were some kind of modified behirs. Imbedded in the skull of each was a piece of vitaesis. But when Valanthe examined them, it didn’t seem to react to her own crystal nor did they react to each other. This seemed rather odd. They almost seemed dormant or suppressed. We checked them quickly and then moved towards the temple.

We explored the exterior of the temple. The stone wall of the hillside looked like large chunks of pyrite had been placed there and then fused into place. The temple was sealed except the main entrance. At points in the mortar, we could make out human bones that had been turned into stone to strengthen the structure. The entire place radiated a dull magic aura as did the pillars. We tried briefly to go through a side wall but the sandstone quickly gave way to a force wall concealed underneath. No doubt the original temple marble lies under that. 

I was looking at the cupola above but I suspected that the entrance would be as well warded as the front door. The stained glass had images of various saints of Pelor and solars and the like. We decided that despite our usual hatred of going in the front door, perhaps it was time we did just that.

The doorway was open – there were once mighty doors but they no longer hung on their hinges.  The chamber beyond stretched into the darkness ahead, and reached just as high. The floor seemed coated with a yellow dust similar to the sandstone. But it didn’t sit right with Valanthe and Bolo, and they concluded it was indeed yellow mold. Bolo called on the power of the green, and the mold blanched and turned a whitish grey, and was inert. 

Valanthe was the only one who had actually entered so far. Besides the mold she also noticed a lot of broken stained glass on the floor. As she crept quietly in the middle of the chamber examining it, the glass in the cupola above shattered loudly, raining more glass down on her. She quickly rolled backwards out of the way and the glass hit only the floor.  She then continued carefully checking the room. There were two small iron doors on the far side, as well as two moderately concealed secret passages. But she was developing the distinct feeling of being watched. When she looked up, she saw clinging to the ceiling some blue-haired creatures. They resmbled goblins but with leonine features. Barghest. Some of them sank into the very shadows themselves, and Valanthe was sure that they were shadow dancers. 

And they were moving closer.


----------



## WizarDru

*DM Math:* _100' move + Spring Attack + Swallow Whole = lots o' gulpins._

Luckily, Bolo got eaten twice, so the status quo was restored.  


For those who care, go to our Rogue's Gallery thread, and you can see the stats for Bzzzt, the electric Behir  from Hell.  His stats aren't quite 100% correct to what was actually used, but close.  His partners were all the same, but with a different element selected.

Minor details to add:  Valanthe was using Stonebreaker Acid, from A&EG.  Bolo was in an elemental Wildshape, when swallowed.  The combat required two mass heals...and Aethramyr actually opted to NOT free himself, when it became obvious the others would remain trapped (although Bolo would probably be able to escape on his own), he'd miss out on a Mass Heal...and he was doing more damage on the inside than the out.  

Most amusing moment:

*Kayleigh:*_  OK, does anyone need to cast any buffs before we go in?_

*Scorch:*_  Not yet...I'll wait 'til we get closer to a combat.  Once we get inside, maybe._

*DM:*  Grrr. Argh!  Evil bad nastiness!

Bzzzzt Gulps first PC.

*Aethramyr:*_  Uhmm.  OK._

Vvvvvt gulps second PC.

*Scorch:*_ Damn.  I should have buffed.  I'm not in grig form._


*Kayleigh:*_ [Slaps forehead] What did I *just say?*_


----------



## dravot

Zad's notes for the behir combat were pretty much spot on:

Round 1:

Behir eats Aethramyr.
Behir eats Scorch.

Round 2:

Behir eats Dravot.
Behir eats Valanthe.
Behir tries to eat Kayleigh

Round 3:
Behir eats Bolo.
Behir tries to eat Kayleigh

Round 4:
Behir tries to eat Kayleigh


----------



## Zad

*The Crypt of the ShadowTaker Chapter 4*

*The Crypt of the ShadowTaker - Chapter 4*

OOC Notes:
Exp is 3000.

Loot:
One gem worth 10,000gp (with trap the soul or something on it)
500gp
One burnt-out psicrystal, the owner being dead
+3 lightning axe (market 32,300gp)
+4 full plate (market 17,650gp)

This Week’s Adventure:
(Note that there was a minor error in the last story/session, and Valanthe had not noticed the creatures skulking around. She thought she saw something then said it was nothing due to some kind of mind-affecting spell.)

While Valanthe was carefully scouting the interior of the chamber, a sudden vibration moved through the air. It came from an upper corner inside the temple near us, and came through the wall at us. It washed over the group but we were all able to fight off the mental pressure. Obviously something else was in there. Valanthe turned and used a shadowblast scroll at something on the ceiling and the battle began.

I moved into the room but couldn’t immediately see our attacker, so rather than look I opted for something defensive and used a mirror image. Then streaking out of the door came a fireball. It headed straight for Dravot but something was wrong. Thanks to Scorch, we’ve all seen more than our share of fireballs, and this one looked . . . cheesy. It just didn’t seem credible and it washed over us, barely doing anything. Out of the darkness I could hear spellcasting, and recognized the words of a mass haste, but it wasn’t Scorch casting it. Then a second spell tried to dominate me but I wasn’t about to let that happen after Aeoket, and I shrugged it off.

Bolo moved into the doorway and let loose a creeping doom but another caster was ready and counterspelled it. Of course that just meant that Scorch had a free field of fire and I remember musing how someone had made a poor choice. Dravot put a Daylight spell on his shield and entered the room and our foes were now clearly revealed. There were several leonine goblins attacking. They each seemed quite distinct, varying in their patterns and attire. One was in full plate with an axe crackling with lightning. Two were casters of some kind, and we knew there was one psionic in the bunch. 

Not one to let a haste go unanswered, Scorch let off his own mass haste, and then turned and disintegrated one of the beasts. As the green ray washed over him and his body evaporated, a red line of light ripped his soul through the back wall of the temple and away. The other barghests howled in outrage and yelled “The bargain must be kept!” and fixed their gaze on Scorch, who wisely blanched.

Valanthe was dancing back and forth with one of the creatures on the ceiling, also a shadowdancer. The psionic one moved towards me and reached out with an acid soaked claw for my bow, but only found a mirror image. I just clucked and shook my head, and let a full volley of arrows into him. At first he didn’t flinch – there was some kind of oily dark slick moving over parts of his body. But when the arrows started tearing through him, he started howling. To follow it up, I thought it would be a good time for a hail of arrows, and it was. 

Below me, the axe wielder was pressing hard on Zera and Dravot as fierce blows were exchanged. The plate clad thing had taken a solid stance and it seemed clear he wasn’t moving. I thought such a fixed position was unwise and I was sure he’d learn why soon enough. Meanwhile Bolo (still in the form of an earth elemental) smashed the psion and his soul too was ripped away at the moment of death. The others screamed again, and it seemed that the pain was not merely one of loss. 

Aethramyr had moved towards the sorcerer, and tore into him with Shatterspike, nearly killing him. The sorcerer wasted no time in teleporting away from the fight after that. Meanwhile Scorch had one outside who had come to attack him and he dumped several spells on him after Bolo’s riding dog had knocked the creature to the ground. Regretably he was able to teleport out before Scorch could finish him. In the corner, Zera was badly wounded but Dravot got close enough to heal her and things started looking better there. As the other barghests fell, the defender was the last one left, locked in his stance. Dravot smashed his hammer through the creature’s armor, and Bolo finished him off. His soul was ripped out like the others but seemed the most stubborn, and was thrown against the walls a few times before being drawn off by whatever force held it.

The barghests had little of value on those that we had killed. One had a very expensive gem, but it had a slight touch of evil, and it tried to bind Scorch’s soul when he looked at it. (Whether he failed to qualify is another matter entirely and I shant debate it here.) 

There were several doors and concealed doors leading from this area, and we had no idea which way to start. Zera had a vague recollection of going down one passage, then backtracking to another. Of course there was one clue – the souls were all drawn through the back wall, so that’s the way we went.

_At this point the gentle reader is invited to join the gaming group in adopting their best munchkin voice and singing along….

Follow the trail of red souls
Follow the trail of red souls
Follow follow follow follow follow the trail of red souls!

If ever a wonderful lich there was, the ShadowTaker is one because
Because because because because because
Because of the hideous things he does!
La la la la la la la la la

Et cetera._

We moved through some heavily trapped passages carefully but not without mishap. Among several more mundane pit traps was one that shrunk the victim and passed them through a small hole and then re-grew them in time for the crushing walls to start. Aethramyr and I were standing right on it but since both of us were slightly hovering in flight at the time, we didn’t trigger it, and Dravot tumbled in. As the crushing walls began churning, Dravot looked up and said “Ah, guys?” Aethramyr looked down, stil hovering over the pit and yelled slowly “Teleport… out.” Dravot got the sudden look of “Oh yeah” on his face, and reappeared with the group via the helm of teleportation and we moved on. 

The next room held several old wine casks, some of them broken, and most of them soured. But as we looked, flumphs began rising up from somewhere in the room, more and more of them appearing. Aethramyr slammed the door shut and looked at Scorch who rubbed his hands quickly and tossed a fireball in while Aethramyr opened then slammed the door for it.

There was a quiet woosh as the fireball went off, then an odd magic washed over the area after the explosion, and some of the group was suddenly slammed up to the ceiling. “Reverse gravity?” Scorch questioned but we just shrugged, not understanding why this happened. It was harmless enough however and we just moved on. The room was now covered in about a foot’s worth of muck but we carefully moved past it. 

The next room was another storage area but was just empty. Beyond that was a library of some kind. Inside, eight ghostly monks sat carefully copying tomes. At first the ghosts seemed to be unable to hear us, but in fact they were just ignoring us. Apparently they are frequently the object of torment by the minions of the ShadowTaker, and assumed we were just new recruits. These men were priests in the temple when it fell, and they sit copying sacred texts to this day. Dravot had an extensive discussion with them, and they provided a great deal of information.

There is one other of their order, Ufic Tarn, who is still alive to this day. He guards the lantern below, and it sustains his life. The lantern however is sputtering and will go out soon if it is not rekindled by the Pyre. But for now the lantern protects Ufic and he it. 

The Crypt itself is not quite entirely on the Prime Material. It’s somehow coterminal with the Astral plane. The ShadowTaker has apparently fused several small demi-planes together to form this area, and because of this the layout shifts and changes over time. The monk believed that the ShadowTaker can manipulate the passages and rooms. There are many ways down to the Pyre or lantern but no direct route. Time seems to pass differently in the different demi-planes, and the physical laws also can change. The Bargainers have complained about it. (Apparently that was what the barghests called themselves.)

Also the Pyre is guarded by “The Iron God” – some great construct built to protect the Pyre, with the spirit of a priest of Pelor to give it intelligence.

The ShadowTaker has had many unsavory guests, including Diabolocists, over time. The only time the monk ever saw him was when he was bleeding and dying. 

He also cautioned us about the explosives. In the event of an attack, apparently they can blow up this entire area and collapse it to prevent further progress into the crypt below. The two bargainers that escaped might be trying to do that just now.

Aethramyr asked them if they had any tales of the sealing of Therizdun, and they said that they did, the tale being such a fundamental part of the lore. The paladin obtained a copy for our use in the future and we moved on to find the barghests.

The next room housed several scroll stands, and a dozen or so goblins. 

Yes. Goblins. Not were-goblins. Not dire goblins. Not undead half elemental paragon goblins. Just plain old goblins. We were taken aback. We had no idea what to do with this. A dragon, sure we can handle that. But goblins? It was all we could do not to laugh. The idea of chasing them out was mentioned but that would just turn them loose on the countryside of Ekbir, which didn’t seem wise. Rather than some complicated solution, I just opted for something simple that elimintated their threat once and for all, and I killed them. 

Of course this made a lot of noise. And that was bad because in the next room (there was no door) was two barghests and the piles of explosives. One barghest was smaller and weaker, while the other was the shadowdancer we fought in the entry. He had a scroll in his hand and seemed ready to use it presumably to blow up the whole place.

Valanthe slipped quietly in behind him, and was ready to cut the scroll in two. Once she was ready, I crept in. Fortunately he noticed neither of us. At once, she cut the scroll and I put four arrows into the beast, who fell over with a gurgle. The other barghest barely had time to realize what was happening before he was cut down. Scorch and Valanthe then took steps to neutralize the explosives and we were ready to proceed deeper into the crypt.


----------



## WizarDru

dravot said:
			
		

> *Bargainer classes included:
> - psionicist of some flavor
> - sorceror
> - 2 shadowdancers (I think both were shadowdancers)
> - dwarven defender (well...barghest defender  )
> *




1 Egoist
2 Sorcerors
1 shadowdancer
1 Rog/Shadowdancer
1 "Barghest Defender"


To be precise.  Perhaps I'll post some of their stat-blocks.  Each clocked in at roughly CR17.  They were underequipped, however, so you got slightly less experience than normal.


----------



## Zad

*The Crypt of the ShadowTaker - Chapter 4*

*The Crypt of the ShadowTaker - Chapter 4*

OOC Notes:
Exp is 2260

Loot:
(for the sake of stubbornness)
gem worth 150gp
gem worth 60gp
10gp in melted coins

This Week’s Adventure:
We slowly descened the stairs towards what the monks said was the cistern.  Without a word we moved into our usual arrangement with Valanthe ahead and searching carefully – this place had far too many preparations for intruders to be anything other than cautious. [Scorch’s player remarked that the place was just “Traptacular”.] We soon came to a short hallway that was lined with torches and several mirrors. At the far end was a metal door with arcane carvings on it. The mirrors radiated abjuration magic, and even the most naïve dungeon delver would have smelled a nasty surprise linked to those mirrors. We discussed a few options for bypassing the mirrors without letting ourselves be reflected in them, and ultimately Bolo took out a horn and blew on it, and a fog arose. After a few moments, the fog filled the entire hallway and Bolo volunteered to go down first to see if it was effective.

While he was moving down the hallway, Valanthe checked the door and peeked through. On the other side was a small tentacled creature, waiting. When Valanthe opened the door, the creature quickly threw a small stone through the open door and into the hallway. As it plunged through the fog, there was a sudden sense of dread, as the sudden realization hit as to the nature of the small stone.

A thunderstone.

The stone hit the floor and let off a loud crack. The mirrors all shattered in a single discordant shriek. Just at the edge of the hall, I could see a demonic form rise up and howl. From the sounds of if, there were several more like him in the fog. The nefalshees looked around for their captors and of course only saw us.

Before they could move any further, I hovered up over Aethramyr and let off several arrows, killing the first demon. Scorch threw a cone of sound down the hall with good effect. Of course the fog was still blocking any good view of what was within, so it was hard to gauge what was within. Aethramyr stepped into the fog and found another demon and killed him as well. The other demons in the fog started loosing magical effects trying to find whatever was attacking them. At the far end of the hall, Valanthe and Bolo tried to work from that end.

I couldn’t see any more demons but was sure they were there. I fired blindly into the fog over Aethramyr’s head, and found my target enough times to kill it. Unfortunately the demons started calling in help, gating in other demons, which left Valanthe and Bolo in an even worse position. 

The mayhem continued from there. Even in the narrow hall, both us and the demons had a hard time finding a target to attack and the demons kept gating in more demons. The whole process was taking too long, and we began to worry about what else would fall upon us during the battle. But we eventually found and killed all the demons, and moved through the door.

I find it an interesting footnote to realize that, when locked in a battle with powerful beings of the abyss, our thoughts were not worry for our survival, but amounted to general annoyance at how long it was taking to finish with them and move before something else found us.

At the end of the next hall was a large room. The paint had faded on the walls and on the north and south wall were two large mirrors covering the entire surface. From the tracks, it looked like our tentacled friend (who got away during the chaos) went up to the north mirror than disappeared. Valanthe touched the north mirror, and was transported somewhere else. The scale didn’t seem to work and we couldn’t contact her, but I quickly followed and she was fine on the other side. As I moved out of the landing area, Bolo came in behind me. Unfortunately space was tight and Valanthe, who had moved up a bit, had found that a group of kua toa was nearby and massing at an intersection ahead to attack.

Bolo said he had just the thing for this, and slipped past me. He dropped a wall of fire in the hallway at the intersection, and the smell of burned fish quickly filled the area. Those that survived the wall’s initial ignition had nowhere to run except along the wall, and died quickly. Rather elegant. One of them screamed that we shall be visited by “Death who hops” before he died. None of us knew enough of kua toa religion to know about their gods, and just shrugged.

We suspected that we had been moved to another plane or demi-plane. The scales didn’t seem to be working at the moment but I hoped they would re-establish their connection to each other after a few minutes. 

The kua toa seemed to have taken up residence in some cells designed for penitents. They had altered one area to venerate something, but whatever it was got burned with the worshippers. The area held little of interest and we moved on.

The hallway leading on had a now-routine pit trap, and several alcoves like burial nooks. There were many dead bodies and bones there. As we approached, the bones started moving on their own. Individually mind you, not the entire skeleton as a group. The bones seemed to be coming together to form something but we didn’t give it time. Dravot moved up and shined the radiant light of Pelor and the bones exploded into fragments, coating the floor, and lay still. I wondered what it might have been, but it seemed safer not to find out.

At the end of the hall was a room filled with water to some unknown depth, and columns rose from the water to the ceiling. The columns pulsed with an eerie blue-white light and the sound of running water added an odd effect. In the water I could make out some kua toa swimming around. Then suddenly a large creature jumped out of the water and landed on a dry area. It was almost part centaur, and part frog.

Death who hops.


----------



## WizarDru

wolff96 said:
			
		

> *You know, I could never ever use a villain named "Death who Hops".
> 
> I couldn't keep a straight face long enough to describe it.
> 
> I also can't wait for more update-y goodness... especially to see if any other deviousness made it into the actual storyhour.*




It's funny, because after seeing this I simply couldn't resist using him.   *Players, please do not use this link.*

And followers of the other thread should recognize a suggested element beginning.  Suggestions are still welcome at this thread here 

One of the most amusing comments of recent games:

*Scorch:* _Hey, wait a minute.  If the Shadow King is really the shadow of Tharizdun, what's making him cast that shadow?_

*DM:*_Are you planning on taking some levels of Alienist?_

*Scorch:* _Ummmm....no._

*DM:*_Because asking questions like that leads right into it._

*Scroch:*_GOT IT._

Heh.


----------



## Zad

*The Crypt of the ShadowTaker - Chapter 5*

*The Crypt of the ShadowTaker - Chapter 5*

OOC Notes:
Exp is 2575. 100 point bonus for Scorch for having the forethought to paint miniatures with identifiable features.

Loot:
At least the ShadowTaker pays someone around here.
Bastard sword +4, elf bane
Potion of Cure Moderate Wounds
Slime Chain - +3 mithril chain shirt
Cloak of Resistance +3
Ring of Protection +3
Large steel shield +3
Gems totaling 12kgp.
Two periapts of wisdom +4
Rod of flailing
Slime Breastplate - +2 breastplate
Rod of the Python
8 koa toa slime chain (mithril chain shirt)


This Week’s Adventure:
Death Who Hops. So that’s who they meant.

Or, for our purposes, Death Who Croaks. 

The koa toa had heard us and seen the light from Dravot’s shield, and were preparing. Two of them were casting spells, and others were moving towards large metal grates. Each corner of the room opened out into a smaller side chamber and each had a metal grate in the middle. The room itself had a domed ceiling, and the two large ceramic pipes channeled water up and down in a cycle. Scattered around the room were about ten koa toa plus the abomination that was Death Who Hops. Most of them wore a slime-coated chain mail and their apparent leader also had a wicked bastard sword in hand, and a shield slung over his back. His other hand held a strange spiked rod that didn’t seem to be a practial weapon. 

It didn’t take long to get a hunch on what they were up to. Some of the fish men closed off the metal grates with a lever, while others dove into the pool, and the flow of water began building; they were flooding the room. What I didn’t understand was what they thought would keep the water inside – there were two passages out of the room and the flow didn’t seem to be fast enough to rush out of them with any force. But they were up to something.

Valanthe stepped through the shadows and came out inside the room on the far side, still undetected. I floated up in the shadows along the ceiling closer to the room. Thorkeld stepped up but with less subtrifuge, and the abomination saw him and burbled something. Scorch casually remarked it was standard monster rhetoric and shrugged it off. Death Who Hops then activated the spiked rod, which changed into a flail, and he tossed it to one of the spellcasters near him.  

But there were all these things in a room by themselves, and so Bolo decided to do the obvious and sensible thing and threw a thunderswarm into the room. That’s when the final piece of the puzzle fell into place - just about the time the thunderswarm crashed into the wall of force at the doorway. Now the whole business with the water made sense. Scorch of course always has a ready answer to a wall of force, and he dropped it with a disintegrate and followed it with a powerful fireball. Most of the lesser koa toa were burned to ash instantly, but Death Who Hops and a few others ignored the effect completely. Unfortunately this threw off our plan – Aethramyr and I had waited for Scorch’s fireball, and were then going to attack ourselves to finish off Death Who Hops. But the fireball didn’t work, and to make matters worse, Aethramyr charged Death Who Hops but was unable to land a solid blow. Death-y was obviously covered in enchantments. So instead, I fired at one of his supporting spellcasters and put him to a quick death. Like the bhargests, his soul was ripped out by a red line of energy and drawn through the floor. 

Thorkeld moved in to press Death Who Hops. The creature had some powerful attacks, but fortunately our side managed to turn them away for the most part. Bolo then threw a dispel, stripping almost all of the enchantments from the centaur frog beast. Meanwhile Valanthe and her shadows were quietly but very effectively working to re-open a few of the grates, just in case the water flow increased. We pressed our attack hard, and cleared much of the room, when Scorch let a finger of death fly at Death, Who Croaked.

There were a couple koa toa survivors, and I charmed one to learn a little more about the area (with the aid of a Tongues from Dravot’s wand. Clever thing that.) He told is that they too were bound by a bargain of some kind, though he knew little of it. I think that the ShadowTaker has these creatures here to guard his lair, and he lets them live here and offers them some measure of power. My new friend said that there were several ways to get below, including a large cube, and a giant tunnel. He rarely left the area however so he knew little. He did mention more mirrors ahead and said not to listen to them. 

It was at this point that I realized that while every other creature’s soul was ripped from their body, it had not happened to Death Who Hopped. I wasn’t sure what to make of this – maybe he was a construct of some kind. 

There was one other thing in the room during the battle. I hesitate to mention it because it seemed so much more fearsome than it turned out to be. At one point one of the koa toa clerics used an item to call forth a massive water snake. It was easily fifty feet long and seemed as if it would be another serious threat. It turned out that it was a fairly minor magic item and the snake wilted as soon as someone looked sideways at it, reverting to a small wooden rod. I was somewhat embarrassed for myself but better I suppose to overestimate than underestimate.

We cleaned up the items left behind by the dearly departed koa toa, including the bastard sword – it had a name, something “slurpy” I think. But its nature was far more disconcerting. The blade had been made to slay elves. It wasn’t evil in itself, but it was quite troubling. We debated destroying it but decided to leave that discussion for a later time. 

We went out the other side of the chamber (also protected by a wall of force but our fishy friend showed us how to lower it). We saw a hall that had huge chunks of broken mirrors hung on the walls. Unsure of what to make of it, we decided to bypass it and try another hallway. This one led us to the cubic gate that the koa toan had described. Scorch carefully analyzed the gate, and it seemed to lead to a small demi-plane, probably chaotic and evil in nature. Not caring for that, we chose to go down another passage.

This passage led to a small room that had several large piles of bones in it. To nobody’s surprise, Dravot could detect their undead nature. He attempted to destroy them and did destroy two, but there were several more and they were quite strong. We all crowded into the room as best we could. I fired several shots but some of them were swallowed up by the shadowstuff that seemed to glue these bones together. Bolo however found himself pressed on three sides, and the creatures claws reached for him. Rather than tearing his flesh, they leeched energy from him. He grew weaker and they grew larger feeding on him. If his luck ran ill, he would not survive another set of attacks from them. So to give him a chance to flee, I moved in closer and fired a few arrows on the way to draw their attention. Sure enough, they all clawed at me, but they were slow and predicable and I avoided them all, allowing Bolo to withdraw.  Dravot destroyed two more, and the last ones clawed at him. Dravot didn’t even bother to block them – his soul was sealed from their foul hunger, and he fished the last of them off.

[OOC: these creatures did a touch attack, and each attack drained a random statistic. Bolo had taken several attacks and lost five strength and similar amounts from other stats. If he got hit, and it happened to pile up on a stat that was already drained, he could have died. I was worried for him, so Kayleigh moved in to draw the AoO’s so that Bolo could pull back. Bolo’s player looked at me with genuine gratitude that I would be willing to step into harm’s way to save Bolo. Then Wizardru asked what my touch AC was, and I replied “38” and realization came over Bolo’s player’s face. Elf girl is brave, but she is not dumb.]

With this last fight, we were starting to think about when and where we should recover. Bolo’s drained state made a compelling case. Scorch wanted to press on, and there was merit to the argument, but we were worried about what else would find us while we rested. The other problem of course was one of safety. Generally we would have used used a Mordenkainen’s Mansion. But after carefully studying the area, Scorch concluded that we were not actually in contact with the Astral Plane here. The spell would not work, or worse yet, the ShadowTaker would allow it to work, luring us into a false sense of safety, only to attack while we rested. I thought it might be an interesting trap to lay, but we decided there were too many risks.

So with a return to our dungeon-exploring roots, we made camp on the stone floor. Of course we did take the precaution of walling off one entrance with a wall of stone just in case. Watches were set, and we rested with one eye open. In the early morning hours (not that the term had any meaning here) there was a strange slurping noise, and we could see some type of odd black pudding coming slowly down the hall at us. It was large, filling the entire hallway and slowly moving towards us. Bolo tried to destroy it but it resisted his control of nature. Pelor’s might was another matter however, and Dravot’s incantation completely destroyed it. It was nearly time to get moving again, and while the priests prayed and Scorch studied, I sat quietly, trying to think of a way to break out of this deathtrap maze that the ShadowTaker has so carefully laid out to destroy intruders. Was there some other way to find the Light of Reason without going through all these defenses? 

But while I sat and thought, there was something else. An tiny itch. An infinitesimally small burning sensation in my soul. I didn’t even realize what it was at the time. But I would learn.


----------



## Zad

*The Crypt of the ShadowTaker*

*The Crypt of the ShadowTaker - Chapter 6*

Author's note: I'm sick as a dog, have been all weekend. This may not even make sense for all I know. That's why we have an edit button.  

OOC Notes:
Exp is 1800

Loot:
7,000gp (ring)
3,400gp (gems)
800 (longsword, ornamental)
ceremonial dagger, value as art unknown, materials 500gp
Dwarven war axe +1
Repeating crossbow +1
Potion of enlarge (5th level)
Potion of cure moderate


This Week’s Adventure:
We made our morning preparations and set out. We bashed a hole in our wall of stone, intent to explore that passage. But on the other side, there was something odd. There was a faint, diffuse sense of undead and evil. It seemed similar to what we had seen before, and Dravot attempted a turning to destroy it. There was no obvious effect, save to agitate the creature, which pulled itself together.

It was as if a graveyard’s worth of bones came together and decided to cooperate. They formed a creature like a giant worm, with arms and hands forming the gaping maw, clawing wildly at the scent of living flesh. The bone swarm lurched and creaked, and oriented on Dravot.

I fired a few arrows at it, and there was some effect. Bolo brought a flame strike down but it had little impact on the mindless thing. In a flash, it shot through the room. In a single undulating motion, it swallowed Dravot, Bolo, Tailcatcher, and Zera. I could catch glimpses of them between the moving bones, as arms and teeth ripped at them.

It then occurred to me that perhaps it wasn’t a very smart idea to swallow a cleric. Apparently it occurred to Dravot as well. He reached out with Pelor’s healing touch, and a ripple of light wracked the creature. It shrieked in agony, and the entire structure loosened, barely coherent. Aethramyr put one solid swing with Shatterspike into it and the creature exploded into a shower of bone fragments and powder.

We carefully worked our way through the crypt. More undead were lurking ahead. Honestly I hadn’t even quite figured out what they were before Dravot annihilated them. Around another corner we found another group of shadowy skeletons like the kind that drained Bolo. Scorch couldn’t resist trying a new trick, and passed over a delayed blast fireball, which was lobbed around the corner and did a rather thorough job.

In one area Valanthe reported a room with pools of blood on the floor. Hooks hung from chains on the ceiling (Bolo shivered visibly at the mention of them) and grates were dotted on the floor. The blood was fairly fresh, making me wonder what creature it came from. Valanthe also spotted what we assumed was some kind of golem – it was made from jagged bits of metal fused together. Its hands ended in long sharp talons. It looked like something the Egg of Coot might have made but somehow more crude and sharp. By using a scarab of golembane Bolo had, we determined there was a second one nearby. 

We set up quickly and then made some noise to attract them into the hall. It worked perfectly and they came, skating on the fresh blood in a most disconcerting way. I loosed a volley of arrows, which mostly stuck. There was a slick coating on most of the creature’s body that deflected some of the force, but it was still quite angered, at least until Aethramyr stepped up and finished it off. As Aethramyr’s death blow tore through it, the creature flew apart, sending jagged metal in every direction, and slicing several deep cuts into the paladin. The second one quickly met the same fate, but this time was killed from a bit farther away to avoid the same explosion of steel.

We explored the room quickly and recovered some valuables that had fallen into the drains, then moved on to another room. The area smelled of ammonia, and the room had wooden tables stained with blood. There were several corpses, some of which were nothing more than dessicated skeletons. Crawling around were things that looked like slugs made of mercury, slowly devouring the flesh. Scorch believes that these things act as scrying sensors for the ShadowTaker. Since the area was a dead end, we withdrew and explored another corridor.

We found an ornate mirror, eight feet high, hovering off the ground. It glowed in a series of colored lights, going through the rainbow. Scorch believed this was another gate that would lead somewhere else within the crypt. After some thorough investigation, he believed the lights were a ruse designed to mislead anyone tampering with the mirror. (As Scorch one again said “Well, it’s what I’d do” I found myself again glad that Scorch seemed to be the ShadowTaker’s match in both intelligence and paranoia.) However during the poking and prodding, the mirror let off a spray of colored light. The beams struck everyone in the area, turning Valanthe to stone, and injuring almost everyone else. (My little voice had told me that this was not something I should toy with so I was standing well back fortunately.) Scorch fortunately was able to return her to flesh.

Not knowing where the mirror would lead, or if it would take us all to the same place, we ultimately decided it was not a good choice. We decided to head back to the cube gate, or perhaps explore the other cistern which was on the way. 

The second cistern held no water but it did house an incredibly large manticore. Our group was fairly large and carrying light, and the creature must have noticed for it called out “Creatures…. Vilespike smells your flesh. Smells elfblood.” It went on, making all the usual threats about our doom while we cast a few prepatory spells (especially a mirror image for me – fast becoming a favorite.) We were in a single line in a long corridor and vulnerable to the tailspikes so we waited for the inevitable cue before charging.

Finally it said “The bargain must be kept.” And we charged. Scorch commented sarcastically that everyone else who said that didn’t keep the bargain so far, but the creature replied “Oh but they did!”

A volley of spikes flew down the hall one of which nicked me, and I felt the poison rip through my body, weakening me. This was unfortunate but not immediately fatal. I decided to distract the creature and let it swat at me so the others could charge into the room, so I flew past and fired a few arrows. The creature bit at me but only dispelled an image, then howled as the arrows hit. It stared at me, promising to destroy me first. Of course my attempt at a distraction failed since it pounced on Aethramyr just as quickly when he moved into range.

Dravot, who I’d swear had been mentally giggling, cast a blade barrier into the room. While the room was large, so was the creature, and there was very few places it could go to escape the whirling blades. Valanthe, who had shadowstepped into the room earlier, saw her opportunity and struck hard at the manticore. Her blows were telling but the creature was still fixated on me. It fired several spikes at me, and I managed to avoid almost all of them, only loosing one image in the process. The manticore then snapped at Aethramyr, who had charged and struck followed by Bolo in the form of an air elemental. The creature’s arrogance was so blinding that it reeled in shock, refusing to acknowledge that it could possibly be defeated bu such creatures. Even as my final arrows struck and killed it, the denial was apparent on its face. As expected, the soul was ripped free at the moment of death, but oddly the soul looked like a giant sized humanoid rather than a manticore. 

There was a large tunnel leading out from this cistern, sloping down.  It was a wide tunnel, explaining how the manticore got here in the first place. We decided the tunnel must be the one the kua toa mentioned, and decided it looked better than the cubic gate. As we descended, the shape of the tunnel changed several times. Eventually it narrowed and the ceiling drew lower to the point where we would have had to crawl to go forward. Happy coincidence had us stop at this point to assess our situation. Bolo wanted to try to commune with nature to understand the area so we waited while he started to chant. It didn’t last long though.

Behind us, an enormous delver burst through the floor with a resounding crash as earth and rock was thrown aside. To the left and right, three minotaurs carrying tower shields came out in a shield wall, stepping out from what was now clearly an illusionary tunnel wall. Scattered behind them were some thirty goblins. There was blinking and blurring and shifting, indicating that some combination of mirror images, blurs, and what not were in effect. Most of the goblins were carrying slender wands and pointing them at us. A well prepared ambush, stalled only by the fact that we chose to stop a few feet short of it. But we were close enough, and they attacked.

Oh well. The bargain must be kept, after all.


----------



## WizarDru

Thanks, Dakkareth.  The feedback is always welcome, and we're always glad to hear from someone who's enjoyed the story hour.  I like to joke with my players that our story hour is "_the lurker's choice_". 

While we're waiting for Zad's update, here's a quick "Meanwhile" update...and a question for anybody who frequents the story hour:  *We'll be going Epic, soon.  I've been discussing with Zad about starting a new thread when that begins.  What are your thoughts?*


Now, then..........

---------------------------------------------------------------
*Meanwhile....*part the first

_"Did you see the Steading?"_, Dortmundd whispered, as if there were more than just the two of them.  [/i]"It's no less than they deserved....but the destruction, Jacob, *the destruction."[/i]*

Jacob stared around the tent he shared with the infantry captain.  Dortmundd, he knew, was a fool.  Competent in battle, but little more than that, he often acted like a goggling farmboy when confronted with something beyond his experience.  But in this case, Jacob agreed.

_"It is wise to keep such observations to yourself,"_ he cautioned.  _"Unless Skullkiss is near, it is foolish to talk openly of such things.  You risk treason, at best, your life at worst."_

_"Surely you don't think the Duke would..."_

_"Have you killed for being a loose-jawed jackanapes?"_ came the deep baritone voice.  Neither had heard the flap open, nor the Duke himself enter.  A filttering of cloth in the darkness confirmed, for Jacob, at least, that Skullkiss the Scarlet was present, as well.  One of his spells, perhaps?  It didn't matter.  

_"You'll guard your tongue or you'll lose it, captain.  I expect better of my men.  I've waited too long and lost too much to lose it to simple carelessness.  Hello, d'Celdane."_  He nodded at Jacob.    _"We need to talk.  Can this one be trusted to keep silent?" _ He gestured towards Dortmundd without looking at him.

_"I think so, my lord.  Once he understands the gravity of his predicament...and ours."_

_"Our....predicament?"_, Dortmundd said, clearly not comprehending.

_"Be quiet and listen, for a change,"_ Jacob chided him.  _"Your grace, what are we going to do?  How long can we play this charade?  When I was a boy, I played with tindertwigs, and nearly burned my skin off.  You play with gnomish fire-powder."_

Instead of irritations at the cavalry-master's words, the duke smiled.  His face looked older than it should, and the smile was a sad one.  The beard on his face hid the scars from The Retreat, as the men called it, but the scars on his soul were harder to see.  The Duke had lost almost everything to the giants...and he intended to pay them back.  The men said he had a clipping of his daughter's hair and that with each dead giant, he threw away a single strand.  It was said that the Duke of Geoff would not rest until he had discarded every last one.

The Duke walked slowly to a nearby cot, and sat himself in it.  though not in the best of shape any longer, he was still a brute of a man, once called a Giant himself, before that nickname became a title too cruel to label a man with.  His tired eyes gazed over at Jacob, many years his junior.

_"Still the firebrand, just like your father, eh?  Hmmm.  I know Chavram and his dog-men can't be trusted, Jacob.  But I don't care.  We have similar interests, if not common goals.  He's not going to betray us, yet."_

_"You're sure of this?"_, replied Jacob, suprised by the Duke's confidence.  _"Did you see what became of the Frost Giant's fortress?  What they did to the inhabitants?"_

_*"WE. HAVE. SEEN. MORE. THAN. YOU. KNOW."*_

Jacob shuddered.  Though no match for Chavram, the Duke's wizard was puissant and dangerous.  He made Jacob uneasy, and his hideous looks and strange, alien voice made it even harder to be at ease around him.  He spoke in a strange, clipped tongue, every word always sounding like an effort.  He always hid in shadows, concealed in cloaks.  It was often joked at court that he was merely there to inspect the duke's curtains, though not to his face.

"_Seen what?_" Jacob asked.  "_What could be more horrific than..._"

*"THARIZDUN."*

With one word, the wizard had made the room suddenly cold as ice.  Jacob's heart felt as if it had frozen in his chest.  The mad god of darkness.  His memories washed over him, and for a moment all he could see was a quick knife, a dying priest and his own impiety.  Without meaning to, he glanced at the long-healed scars on his hands.

"_Yes_," said the Duke.  "_I saw the temple, myself.  The giants had help.  Lots of it...from the cult of madness itself.  Chavram's hate was terrifying.  His rage was what you saw the results of.  The giants who survived...he calls them Animus', like his son and grandsons._"

"_Tritherion keep us safe.  But I have seen these monstrosities, high upon the hill, as you must know...if these nightmares are not what you are here to talk about, then what?  And why are you so sure that Chavram will not betray us?  We need him now far more than he needs us._"

_"Chavram is not as untouchable as you may think, Sir d'Celdane.  He has vulnerabilities that can be exploited, and he is not omnipotent."_  A new, unknown voice joined the conversation.  It was vaguely familiar to Jacob, though he could not immediately place it.  As he tried to place it, the air next to the Duke's throne began to shimmer, as if someone had placed a great flame on the floor.  In a matter of seconds, the form of a tall, pale man appeared next to throne, standing patiently.

"_Peace, PEACE!_", the duke yelled as both of his captains reached for their swords.  "_He is a friend._"  Both men, relaxed slightly.  The pale man looked young and was dressed in a simple velvet outfit of mostly forest green.  Somehow, the wizard Skullkiss had appeared on the other side of the throne.  Was this his doing?  The war weary captain examined the strange visitor.  It took a few moments for recognition to set in.  When it did, Jacob's jaw dropped open.

"_Yes, I see you know who I am, now.  My name is Kaltin, and if you wish to learn how to defeat Chavram, then I can help you._"

Jacob stared, increduous.  "_How do we know we can trust you?  You could be a plant from Chavram!_"

Kaltin merely smiled.  "_Hadn't you heard?  My brother's a living saint.  Saints never lie._"


----------



## dravot

*Dravot’s Journal – ShadowTaker’s Crypt*

We have been within the lair of the foul lich for a day and a half, and have weathered the worst that he’s had to throw at us: the barghests, numerous traps, and several undead abominations.  As we continually move down toward our goals, the challenges get much more difficult, but so far we are able to handle ourselves.

I find my mood alternating between anger at his desecration of Pelor’s temple and eagerness at getting toward our goals.  I try to remind myself that this isn’t personal, but it’s hard not to, given what he’s done to the temple, and his control of the the lantern and the flame as well.  I must remember to restrain myself when in combat, lest I let my wrath override my better sense – like my reaction to the ShadowTaker’s taunts.  It may have been the right thing to do, but doing it out of spite is not good.

I have debated whether to tell Zira about our suspicions of her possible control by the ShadowTaker.  I have not found the words yet.  Maybe I will tell her when we camp for the night.  It seems wrong to me to have these suspicions and not tell her about them.  It might be a good idea to look into the matter some more tonight.  I’m thinking of a long term detect magic, and possibly some method of protecting her.  I will talk about it with Scorch when I get a chance.

In the meantime, I continue to ruminate on our discussion with the ShadowTaker through his meat puppet.  I sincerely hope that Bolo’s grove is ok.  Luckily, I can Commune with Pelor, so maybe tonight I will try to find out how his grove is.  It could well be just a bluff intended to distract us, as much as an actual incursion upon those lands.  I pray to Pelor to give those people some respite from the ravages of evildoers who trod upon the lands of others as they pursue agendas that have nothing to do with them, other than spite and rage.

I am glad for the companionship of my friends, for it is the only thing that keeps out the oppressive spirit that has infused this place.  It will take a long time, and a lot of consecrate and hallow spells to remove the stench.


----------



## Zad

*The Crypt of the ShadowTaker - Chapter 7*

*The Crypt of the ShadowTaker - Chapter 7*

OOC Notes:
Exp is 7,835. Yikes.

Loot:
2 +3 huge greataxes
1 +5 psychokinetic burst greataxe
3 +3 mithril chain shirts
10 wands of magic missile, 25 charges, 7th level caster
2 wands of fireball, 25 charges, 6th level caster
2 wands of silence, 20 charges, min caster
1 wand of mirror image, 20 charges, min caster
1 wand of ice storm, 45 charges, min caster
1 wand of blink, 20 charges, min caster
2 wands of ghoul touch, 50 charges
1 wand of levitate, 10 charges, min caster
2 +4 tower shields
+3 large steel shield
ring of invisibility
ring of protection +2
gems worth 29,000gp

This Week’s Adventure:
As the delver cleared up through the rock, I saw the haze of an invisible rider on it’s back. It was a strange creature with angular features and wearing nothing but a simple cloak. I realized then it was a gensai. As I sent this over the mental link, Dravot replied that he could make out a small shadowy bat flitting around the ceiling as well. This ambush just got more worrisome.

One minotaur bellowed and charged, a dull yellow light surrounding him. He smashed his axe in to Berylden and the shadow was immediately driven back to the shadow plane. Following that, one of the goblins fired four magic missiles from a wand at Aethramyr, but the missiles wilted as they got near the paladin. (As Aethramyr’s power has grown, so too has Shatterspike’s. It was now a full holy avenger, and the protection it gave was sufficient to defeat the wand.) Another minotaur charged, this time at Aethramyr. The eyes of the mind flayer skull grew bright and the axe wielded by the minotaur grafted onto it’s arm. 

Psionic minotaurs. Feh.

Zera and Thorkeld engaged the delver, and struck some solid blows. Meanwhile the goblins tried to loose more magic missiles – this time they targeted Dravot, but he was close enough to Aethramyr that the protection covered him as well, and the missiles died out.

I was the only one who could see the gensai rider, so I opened fire on the unknown threat. The arrows struck solid, but then suddenly all fell out, leaving no mark. At the same time on the delver, deep puncture wounds opened up and the creature howled in pain so violently that the walls shook and Zera lost her footing. Clearly some kind of spell was redirecting wounds to the delver. The rider incanted a Recitation, becoming visible in the process.

Dravot tried an opening gambit, and intoned ancient words that caused him to begin releasing waves of light that played over the entire scene. Many of the goblins were stunned by the light, which at least bought us some time. Or so we thought. At that point, revealed in the light, was one of the shadow bat creatures. In fact it turned out to be more like a bird, with a beak that seemed crafted from onyx vitaesis. It dove at Dravot and pierced his neck. Dravot blanched sheet-white as you could see the creature suck the very essence from him. Then it hit me – it was some kind of stirge from hell. Dravot may be a priest but he is neither slight nor frail, and this creature weakened him so much as to nearly kill him in one strike. This thing was now the most threatening creature on the scene. Worse yet, a second one was revealed in the light.  I was suddenly very afraid.

Aethramyr decided that rather than go around the tower shield, he would go through it, and brought Shatterspike down hard enough to shatter the mind flayer skull and the shield beneath it into a dozen pieces. As the skull shattered, a wispy spirit of a mind flayer rose up and disappeared, released from its prison. The minotaur looked none too pleased. Thanks to the mass haste delivered by Scorch earlier, Bolo dropped a pair of flame strikes on the goblins, crisping them. 

But the goblins were not what scared me at the time. It was the stirges. One of them had hasted itself – don’t ask me how stirges cast spells. Then it stripped some ofmy spells away, causing me to land on the ground with a jolt. They had to die and quickly before they killed Dravot or anyone else. The one still perched on Dravot’s neck was an easier target, so I fired three arrows into it. They may be viscious, but at least they were fragile. The arrows sent it spinning across the cave, and the last one pinned it to the wall, limp. I fired one more shot at the other stirge, but where I would have sworn I had fired true, I only found shadow. Dravot however was as worried as I was, and laid a destruction spell on the remaining stirge, which wilted in the holy light. 

While Zera and Thorkeld were continuing to heap abuse on the delver, a sad excuse for a fireball suddenly detonated in the middle of us – from a wand-toting goblin I’m sure. Then a silence spell fell on the area from a rock thrown by a goblin. These goblins were becoming a nuisance. The gensai then took Dravot’s example, and threw a destruction spell at Aethramyr. Scorch had enough out of him, and successfully dominated him, which was a great relief. Valanthe and Aethramyr then killed the remaining minotaurs while Bolo’s creeping doom crawled over the goblin hoard, leaving no flesh in their wake. 

With a roar and tremble, the deliver finally succumbed to the two paladins of Pelor, and sank to the cavern floor and that ended the ambush. Dravot was barely able to stand, but other than that we had come through in fair shape.

I had commented to Dravot earlier that day that we were sorely lacking information, since we seemed to be unable to question any creature that would know enough to be useful. And now Scorch had seen fit to remedy this problem – the gensai cleric surely would know something of his master and this wretched place. But before we could even put a question to him, his demeanor changed, and the voice that came when he spoke was clearly not his own. The ShadowTaker had taken control of him.

“So, what is it you want? I’d like to bargain. You’ve killed a number of my guardians already, and I find that to be… inconvenient. So what can I offer you?”

Well, I had to at least give him credit for directness. But the whole thing seemed wrong. We suspected so much, and knew so little. But if this was the spider at the middle of this tangled web, then surely he knew exactly what we wanted. And just as surely he wouldn’t want to give it. So why have the discussion? He was up to some devious purpose, surely. The same concerns were clearly in the mind of the rest of the group as well.

Aethramyr fixed a cold stare on the creature. Dravot on the other hand seemed to be seething beneath the surface.  Understandable given how the lich has desecrated this temple. 

“So out with it! Perhaps we can come to terms rather than you continuing to disrupt things before your inevitable death.”

Aethramyr said quietly “What we seek, you would not care to part with.”

The creature sighed in a way that I’m sure is nothing like a gensai. He looked slightly disappointed, as if talking to a child. “But how can you know until it’s offered? Surely you could find better things to be doing with yourselves than this. You for instance,” he pointed casually at Bolo. “Shouldn’t you be defending your grove? Iuz is marching on it even now, you know.”

Bolo of course did not know. He managed to check his reaction but not by much. The ShadowTaker picked up on it. “Oh well, what could I expect. After all you didn’t even bother to protect the poor delver here,” and he gestured absently at the oozing beast. “It was after all just a poor dumb beast, dominated by magic. And you killed it rather than try to help it.”

The lich struck a nerve. Bolo said only “Your death is inevitable,” but clearly he wanted to say more and was avoiding the issue. He then added over the mental link “I think he’s just trying to rile me.” I couldn’t help but think he was succeeding admirably.

For my part, I kept silent. There was nothing to be gained for us this way, and any word said would surely be used against us. 

Dravot, his temper quieted, said “Your doom will come, evil one. And on that day the reconing will come for all the sins you have committed over your long years. You must be scared, otherwise you wouldn’t be here. Your time comes, and soon.”

The ShadowTaker just waved dismissively at that, and seemed genuinely frustrated that we were not more talkative. He sighed heavily and said “I suppose we have to do things the hard way then.” As he withdrew his presence from the gensai, the creature’s head rolled to the side. Its eyes were vacant, and it was now hardly more than a breathing vegetable. So much for useful information.

As we gathered ourselves to proceed, Bolo noticed some tracks. Something creature had been watching during the fight and left. We followed the tracks for a ways to a split in the passage. The tracks then became more deceptive, attempting to lead us in one direction while proceeding in the other. But after some close examination, I suddenly realized that the tracks were entirely fake. It was a decoy set to distract us, or lure us, or perhaps even just to see if we would catch it. When I pointed it out, Valanthe and Bolo saw it too – just a ruse.

Knowing the tracks were fake, I was disinclined to take either passageway. I suggested we search the area – since the tracks were leading us away, perhaps there was something here that we were being drawn away from. We spread out and it wasn’t long before we found a door hidden behind an illusion. The door was a spiral of coral and it opened to reveal a long tube of a corridor made of a pearlescent shell-like material. It was like being thrust into a seashell. The corridor split into two directions and each spiraled downward.

It occurred to me that perhaps this was the trap the tracks were trying to drive us into through another layer of deception, but I did my best to just put it out of my mind. We formed up and started entering one of the branches of the pearly tube. Before we could even all file in, two things happened. One was bad – the door suddenly shut, leaving Thorkeld outside. The other was worse – a part of the wall detatched between Valanthe and me. It was like a ring separated and moved to just inside the tube. Then the ring became filled with inky blackness, as if a dye of pure darkness was shot into water. The blackness quickly filled the ring. Valanthe was scouting up ahead of me, as was our usual practice, and must have tripped the device and fortunately she was the only one cut off by it. The ring began to slowly move down the spiral hallway towards Valanthe. And then Scorch said three words.

Sphere of annihilation.

Either this was a very deadly trap, or the most vicious cleaning system ever devised. Valanthe wasted no time shadow stepping back to the group, and the ring silently slid down the tube, gaining speed as it went. Valanthe then re-opened the door, and set to disarming this deadly mechanism. She managed to jam it so that it woudn’t deploy again. We had to wait for the ring to reach the bottom and return, but once it did her handiwork held, and we moved down the tube cautiously.

At the bottom, things began heating up. We suspected that we had crossed into another demi-plane, and this oen was quite warm. There was the heat and glow of molten rock from down the corridor and the sounds of flowing rock could be heard.  We began making our way through the area, but soon saw that at least one thing hadn’t changed.

More mirrors.

We had to pass though the area, and debated the same methods as before. The mirrors this time did not break when we tried it, so that seemed to exclude one disaster. Bolo volunteered to step in and see what happened. Lacking any other ideas, we nodded and he stepped into the room. Now of course any adventurer who has ever set foot in a tavern has heard stories about mirrors where the reflection became real and attacked. I never really gave much thought to whether it happened or not, but it seemed I no longer need to. The reflection of Bolo stepped out from the mirror, and cursed at his counterpart. It seemed to take Bolo a minute to realize it was him – I don’t think he’s quite used to his new reflection yet. The fortunate part is that we were not fighting our entire party – only Bolo (or as we called it, Olob.) Before Olob could move too far and I lost track of who was who, I fired several arrows into him. While he didn’t drop immediately, he was badly wounded from the volley. Having tipped the odds, I had little doubt that Bolo could deal with his double now without any confusion.

As it turns out, it wasn’t necessary. In his outrage at his own image, Olob dealt with himself. He let loose a thuderswarm, and while it did scorched Bolo badly, Olob was caught in the conflagration as well, and it was enough to kill him. The spell also took out the mirrors, and so we simply healed poor Bolo and moved on.

As we worked our way through the passages, I became more concerned as a nagging doubt ate away at me. We had pushed deep into this twisted place, but there was no telling how much more lie ahead. For all we have faced so far, I can’t say that we’ve made any real progress. We seem to be no closer to the Light of Reason or the Pyre than when we first set foot in the cistern.  Indeed the entire place seems to be a giant rats maze, designed to sap our energy and direction as we run in circles. I begin to wonder if we can even find the ancient artifacts this way, or the ShadowTaker. After setting such an elaborate maze, can we really expect to find him at the end of it? I wonder. I keep searching for a way to bypass these defenses or go around them in some creative manner, but I can think of none. But I’m sure that we cannot keep going as we are. We are playing into the ShadowTaker’s hands this way, and this dungeon could go on forever. If we are to succeed, we need to change our approach somehow. Now if only I knew how. My only comfort is that Pelor told Dravot that the Light of Reason was indeed here. But are we even “here” any more? Until we can come up with another idea, we must go forward. But forward into what?

Some of the hallways came to dead ends, ending in mirrors. It’s possible that they were more transportation mirrors, or they were traps. In any case Valanthe avoided looking at herself in them and we went in other directions. As we came down one hallway, we heard a scuttling noise. The hall lead to a large foundry and smithy workroom.  To the left was a demon – a bebbilith – with which we were all too familiar. But ahead was a bigger surprise.

It was Rackhir. 

Normally I would figure this for a ruse, but knowing Rackhir was in the Bestiary as we did, it seemed all too likely that this was truly him. However his eyes glowed with a wicked power, and certainly he was not of his own mind. I also noted that while he was armed, he did not carry the bow that Scorch and Dravot had made for him. I’m sure the djinn contained would not have obeyed him while he was so possessed. 

Rackhir reached for something I couldn’t make out, and mumbled something about the sleepers. As he did so, Zera’s eyes began to glow with the same evil power. Dravot had warned us that the ShadowTaker might have some hold over her, and it seemed it was so. In a moment all hell would break loose as we had to contend with her and Rackhir and the bebbilith.

But there was one more sleeper who awoke. One more person who’s eyes glowed with an evil aura. One more person who would turn against us.

Behind me, I could hear a cackle that could only have one source – Scorch.


----------



## WizarDru

He hated the cold.  
He hated the snow even more.  
Why was he here?  
He had been asked.  
He was the Lone Tooth.

*He hated the cold.*

He trudged on, passing the assembled corpses spread about the battlefield.  Some were metal-make, with their acidic and unliving scent that made nose itch.  The others were plain to smell, as he first had, after passing the giant iron markers.

*Orc-stink.*

There were humans scattered amongst the dead, too, though the Lone Tooth cared little.  The smell of blood awakened...what?  Something in him, that he had not felt in a long time.  What was it?  Lust for blood?  Hunger?  Anger?  All of them?  He could not say.  He was the Lone Tooth, and that was enough.

His soft fore-paws padded on the harsh and unforgiving frozen earth, stepping around the frozen patches of blood and gore.  He paused, staring at the bodies.  He tried to focus his thoughts (which had become more difficult, lately).  He saw a banner sticking through one of the corpses, thrusting skyward in defiance of the defeat it's followers had suffered.  Or had they?  The banner's logo was familiar, somehow.  Where had he seen it before?  The answer was swift, in his mind.

"_YOU never have_", it said.  "_That memory is of the other.  It is his memory you seek._"  The Lone Tooth snarled at this, as if urging his own thoughts to stop.  He padded on, leaving the fallen bodies behind.  He was no carrion crow, and did not feed on the dead.

He soon left the field of the fallen, crossing the plain.  His white fur made him nearly invisble across the tundra, especially when the wind kicked up the fine powder.  Even if there had been silence, though, the Lone Tooth made no sound.  He never did.

He travelled for miles more, over trackless terrain, until he smelled it.  It was unnatural...it did not belong on this world.  It stank of metal and evil.  *And it was not alone.*

They came in a pack.  Six of them, he guessed.  He was unconcerned.  Still, he could not allow this to be easy.  First, he needed to test their speed.  He waited until they drew close, and then suddenly burst into full stride, all four of his legs no more than blurs.  He could smell all of them now, as they approached.  They were not as fast as he, he could now tell.  They could run a man down, and perhaps an unwary deer.  But not him.

Now he led them on a merry chase, through the rough crags that began ahead.  As he reached them, he could see the ground beginning to thaw, as if he had journeyed hundreds of miles, instead of tens.  His pursuers continued on, feeling no fatigue.  Clearly, they could run for hours, if they so desired.  

But then, so could he.

They were fast and lithe...for metallic obscenties styled after real creatures.  They looked like a cross between some sort of four legged predator, a sword and....what were they called?  Oh yes, a bullette.  He had eaten one of those, not so long ago.  

Now the pursuing steel predators entered the cul-de-sac, certain that they had cornered their prey.  The pack was hungry.  He could smell their foul reek...like blood and coal, mixed together.  He let them approach, as the pack surrounded him, boxing him in.  They were nearly his size, and those jaws could clearly snap boulders in twain.  They chose to show him, leaping at him with frightening speed.  They pounced....

on an empty space.  Only one of them had the wits to see him somersualt over them, landing in a hunter's position behind them.  If he understood what an odd movement it was for a white dire lion to make, he made no sign.  And as his paws flew out, again and again, faster than the eye could follow, the first one fell.  He clamped his jaws on another, snapping his head off.  The Lone Tooth tasted oil and carbon, as he spat the monstrosities head out.

The next two dived at him, but he was faster than any creature of his size had a right to be.  He dodged left and right, always aware of where the next unfocused, clumsy attack would land.  His tail lashed out like a whip, cracking the air and stunning one of his opponents.  The final opponent managed to bite him, it's terrible poisonious venom burning into his skin.  But the Lone Tooth was beyond such concerns, and his body could not be fouled by such an obscenity as this.

In seconds, he dispatched the rest of his opponents.  He suffered a few minor wounds, but nothing of consequence.  He focused on the Green, and heard it's call.  His pain washed away, his wounds healed.  Yet his stomach was empty.  These creatures were no food for the likes of him, and there was little or no game about.  As he looked ahead towards the ever warming north and licking his lips, he realized one thing.

*If he wanted dinner, Bolo would provide it.  *


----------



## WizarDru

Aerich waited patiently, standing near the table of food.  He waited patiently, musing to himself.  Even now, it took some etting used to, holding a ladel instead of a longsword.  The cleric of Fhalangan gazed up and down the row of crude tables, all filled with refugees who had been unable to escape before the wall had gone up.

The meager fare was like a banquet to most.  He dedicated most of his daily benefit of the Lord of Roads to creating clean water and edible, untainted food.  Some of his benefits were saved for more esoteric purposes.  At that moment, he was thinking of a good use for several of them on his young charge, when the boy, Morant, arrived.

He was a lanky and almost gaunt, but this had nothing to do with the food shortage, or the occupation.  The boy was as thin as a reed, and always had been.  Once a common thief, Aerich had taken the boy in and given him a purpose...although he still found uses for the boys more questionable talents.  It was to such a purpose that Aerich had set the boy this morning, although he hadn't expected him to take this long.  It was near to lunch hour, and he had need of the boys hands and the vegetables he was to have acquired.

"_Sorry, master, sorry!_" the boy exclaimed, breathless.  Slung over his back was a rucksack, no doubt containing potatoes and possibly some other vegetables.  The boy was well-nigh on 16, now, and stronger than he looked, but a sack of potatoes was no easy burden to carry steathily across half a city's worth of ruins.

"_A servant of the Traveller always knows how long a journey might take, Morant._", Aerich chided him, softly.  He opened the bag and examined its contents approvingly.  "_Another job well done, though, I see.  You weren't followed or seen?_"

"_Nay, master.  You know I'm too careful for that.  Those turncoats must think they have the half-dragon rabbits!"  They both chuckled, quietly, as the elder priest began removing the tubers from the bag and preparing to add them to the stew pots.  Aerich had never had any children, but he regarded Morant as warmly as if the orphan was his own.  His pride in the boy overcame his disappointment that there were some who had sworn allegience to the Reds, and served them like pets, in return for food and relative safety.  That reminded him of something.

"What of the dragons, lad?  How many did you see?"

"Dragons, master?  None, today," came the boy's reply.  Aerich's heart froze.

"None?  Not even crossing the city?  Surely you saw one."

"Nay, master.  Naught.  Perhaps they're sleeping off the chill?"  Aerich's mind raced.  No dragons?  Why?  Yes, it had been unusually cold lately, but not out of the ordinary.  There had been the strange black snow that had swept through the city weeks ago...but that had proved to be a false alarm.  The dragons were apparently as confused about it as he had been.

As he dropped some potatoes into the nearest pot, he caught of flicker of the light, as if a shadow had passed overhead.  He looked up, and saw nothing.  His hand went to his side, where *Walker's Justice* lay concealed in it's scabbard.  Quickly, he began reviewing his options.  They weren't terribly appealing, and there weren't many of them.

He was about to tell the boy to start quietly dispersing the refugees, but it was too late.  He felt as much as heard the thunderous crash of the giant reptiles, the grounds shuddering at their arrival.  People began scrambling in terror, fleeing in every direction.  The air filled with screams of panic and shock.  Some were too terrified to move at the arrival of the wyrms.

Aerich stared in horror at the street in front of his makeshift abbey.  There were three of them, one larger than any living thing that he had ever seen before.  It was a Red wyrm, and it's very presence project menace.  Beside it stood two smaller dragons, one obviously an adult, another an adolescent, though no less terrifying for that.  Several people had been crushed, along with the table they had been sitting at, when the dragons had fell to earth.  Though their features were alien, Aerich could recoqnize amusement on the eldest's face.  The rumble of thunder that came next was the deep bass of it's voice.

"*I TOLD YOU, GETHYX.  THIEVES.  LITTLE RABBITS, YES?"*, it said.  It must have overheard Morant.  Had it followed him, or was it just playing a game?  Did it matter?

The smallest of the three, small being the size of a horse, trotted over to the table.  With a flourish, it swung it's tail around, sweeping the stew pots clean away.  The pots landed noisily in the street, causing the hot stew to splash about.  A few cowering peasants yelped in pain when it spilled on them, but remained silent otherwise, hoping to avoid notice.

*"Harh harh harh!  See, Orathanyx!  SEE!  Look at them cower!  They know!  They know!"*  It glared at Aerich while it's tongue flicked out, tasting the air.  It's reptilian eyes focused on the cleric, and then on his acolyte.   *"Ooohh.  The little thief looks tasty...may I have him as a snack, brother?"*

The middle dragon casually struck the smallest with his tail, knocking it backwards.  It attempted to rise, desperately trying to maintain it's dignity.  Aeirch could think of nothing but a dog that displeased its cruel master.

*"Silence, WHELP."*  It regarded the smallest one with open disdain.  *"Never FORGET.  YOU are SMALLEST.  The CHOICE of FIRST BLOOD will go to Orathanyx, not YOU."*  The third dragon looked chastised, but its expression was acid.  Like all of it's kind, it considered violence first...but it could not kill it's elder, so it waited.

Aerich knew there was little time left to act.  He had to move quickly, while suprise was on his side.  As his hand moved to *Walker's Justice*, he saw Morant reaching behind his back, for a short sword, no doubt.  Aerich needed to distract the dragons...give the refugees time to escape, or none of them would survive.  His life was already gone, but he could save the lives of others.  He had always wondered if he would die like the many heroes of Fharlangann's church, fighting oppresors to the end.  It was for such an eventuality that he had held back his most powerful spell.

He looked over at Morant.  "Be well, boy.  Have a drink on me."  The young acolyte looked back at his master with a mixture of confusion and shock.  He was in the process of saying something, when Aerich Plane Shifted him to the Halls of Kord.  He hoped.  Now he just had to draw his sword and wait the dragons out.

Orathaynx was through waiting, however.  With one swift stride, it moved forward, and grasped Aerich by the throat with one its huge claws.  His sword hung limply from his right arm, begging to be swung...but Aerich didn't have the strength to breathe, let alone fight.  The wyrm glared down at him.

*"HOW QUAINT.  DO YOU KNOW WHAT DAY IT IS, LITTLE MOUSE?."*  It glared at Aerich, as if waiting for a response..but since he couldn't breathe, that wasn't going to happen.  *"IT'S THE LAST DAY OF YOUR LIFE.  THE TIME HAS COME FOR A BURNING.  THANK YOU FOR KEEPING ALL OF THESE MORSELS ALIVE FOR US.  TODAY WE FINALLY KILL YOU ALL AND SATE OUR HUNGER.  NO MORE WAITING.

WILL YOU BEG, I WONDER?  WILL YOU..."*

Aerich would never know what the wyrm would say next.  It happened so quickly that he could scarcely follow it.  A sudden flash of light blinded him, accompanied by a rush of silent wind.  The light was a reflection off of something metallic, but he couldn't follow the blindingly fast object.  Orathanyx, for his part, seemed confused.  His enormous jaws were still working, as if he was still talking...but the razor thin cut that separated his neck from his head was erupting in blood and rushing air.

Orathanyx's grip went limp, and Aerich went tumbling to the ground.  He couldn't see well, and began coughing violently as air ran back into his lungs, mixed with a little blood, perhaps.  It was several seconds before he could see what was happening, though he heard the dragon scream, in challenge or fear, he couldn't say.  The smell of burning wood came to him.  Gripping his sword, he regained his feet, and looked about at the now strangely darker street.

Orathanyx had collapsed, his life's blood running into the street.  People had run during the confusion, and Aerich found himself quite alone.  The second dragon was gone, but from the gout of blood over the nearest ruined building, he guessed he hadn't gone far.  The smallest one was where he had seen him last, but now was cowering.  It was then that he realized that the sun was still out, and something was shading him from the sun.

He turned, still wary, but not holding his sword in a threatening manner.  It was larger than the red.  In spite of himself, he shuddered.

*"ARE YOU INJURED?"*

"N-N-no.  Wh-who...?" was all he coud manage.

*"MY NAME IS PARAVANDAR.  I BRING YOU A MESSAGE."*  His great golden scales reflected in the sun, casting an aura around him.  In the sky above, he could see them.  Dozens of them.  Golds, silvers, coppers, bronzes and more.  

"W-what is the message?", he asked, steeling himself.

As if in response, the great gold's tail flew out, a strange mithril and golden blade form-fitted like a gauntlet attached to it.  It flew straight for the cowering red, severing his head from his body, and then returning, like a bird in flight.

*"THE GILDEN GOES TO WAR."* _


----------



## Zad

*The Crypt of the ShadowTaker - Chapter 8*

Well, the devoted author had to have an emergency root canal yesterday you see...

*The Crypt of the ShadowTaker - Chapter 8*

OOC Notes:
Exp is 3300

Loot:
All Scorch’s stuff.
Pale Lavender Ioun Stone
Bracers of Armor +4 (to Kayleigh, +3’s into the pile)
30 gems totaling 7,500gp
Pile of holy symbols of various gods, most with symbol of Therizdun hidden inside
10 suits of masterwork full plate
10 masterwork greataxes
2 +3 rings of protection
2 potions cure serious wounds
2 potions endurance
2 potions heroism
2 +2 breastplates
2 darkwood shields
2 +2 heavy maces
Breastplate of Command


This Week’s Adventure:
Left with little choice, we killed Scorch. I admit I didn’t feel too bad about it until some time after we looted his corpse.

Ok, not really.

We were in a narrow hallway, with Scorch and Zera now under the control of the ShadowTaker, and Rackhir across the room, and a bebbilith nearby. This would not be fun. Attached to both Rackhir and the bebbilith were some kind of metallic grafts, something like what the druids of Vecna had attatched to them, but made of metal. Rackhir quickly jumped behind a pile of rusted metal to use it as cover, and began firing arrows out. I could see that part of the barrier was an illusion – one he could clearly see through. I was hit by three arrows, tainted with acid, and Valanthe by two. He banked the arrows off the wall and hit despite not having clear sight of us. I was sure I’d have to worry about defense before offense, and quickly cast a haste and mirror image to buy some time. 

Meanwhile, Scorch thought it would be best to separate the party, and put a wall of force across the hallway, cutting off Valanthe, me, Aethramyr and Dravot from him and the rest of the group. A sound idea considering what Dravot had ready but could not execute in time. Bolo, on Scorch’s side of the wall, had a sure plan to keep him from casting any more spells, and summoned a swarm. Of course, in this perverted place, he didn’t get beetles but instead got fiendish beetles and they showed no sign of doing what he wanted.

Aethramyr was just the man to deal with Rackhir and flew across the room over the pool of lava in the middle. As I saw him rush forward I warned him just in time – he was about to fly into an invisible blade barrier that was set up in the room, spinning in a disk vertically. Aethramyr went around it and smoothly put Shatterspike across the bow Rakchir was using, and it snapped into pieces. Rackhir was not pleased. On the other side of the wall, Thorkeld showed no hesitation in dealing with his fellow paladin, and promptly tripped Zera right onto her backside. He then proceeded to pin her to the floor to prevent her from causing much damage to anyone.

[Ok the blade barrier was pretty funny. Aethramyr was going to fly across the room, and Wizardru said "Ok you fly through the invisible blade barrier." And I said "Um, there's an invisible blade barrier? Didn't I notice it?" And he looked at me, and then realized that I have full time see invisible running, and went "Oh yeah. Um. Yeah it's right here. I guess you tell Aethramyr and he steers around it." And we laughed and asked if there were any invisible mooncalves in the room.]

Now the room in question had several passages out, and one looped back around to the rest of the party. Dravot went invisible and began moving around to the other side of the force wall. I only hoped he could get there before too much damage was done.

Valanthe cut into Rackhir who was now unarmed and pressed. He moved back and drew a new bow. He was able to move quite a distance away but not far enough – Aethramyr closed on him and sundered that bow as well. Scorch threw a lightning bolt down the hall at his friends. It hurt, but at least it had the advantage of destroying the fiendish beetles that were about to tear into Bolo. Thus freed, Bolo took several swings at Scorch with his flame blade, trying to press him.

This left the Bebbilith free for me. It had tried to entangle me in webbing but the glob just hit one of the mirror images and landed against the wall with a wet squish. I opened fire on the creature, hoping I could destroy it before it could do much more damage. Arrows struck hard through its chitinous outer layer, and it squealed as ichor oozed onto the floor.

Valanthe left Rackhir to Aethramyr, and swept by on the flying carpet and picked up Dravot so he could cover distance through the corridors more quickly. Once among the group, he leapt off and cast an anti-magic field. Scorch was close enough to be in the effect, and quickly returned to his own senses and began looking for the source of the mental control.

I fired another full volley into the bebbilith. The creature reared and teetered for a moment before collapsing under its own weight into a hulk on the floor. The soul was not ripped out, the creature just died. That’s three down.

Rackhir had drawn a battle axe and hoped to deal with Aethramyr that way, but Aethramyr simply shattered that weapon at well, and the head fell from the haft with an unceremonious clatter. He then began pummeling Rackhir with the flat of his blade. Just then I came round the corner and started firing blunt arrows into Rackhir, also trying to knock him out. As the first arrow slammed into him, he was knocked back against the wall and slumped. As he did, his body turned to vapor and disappeared. It looked almost like the same phenomenon as when an outsider is killed and returns to its own plane. Rackhir was not dead, but nor was he saved.

The discussion that followed was one of the most unsettling yet in my years with this group. I confess I busied myself looking around the rooms so as to avoid what was happening in the hallway. Scorch’s eyes had been two different colors ever since he was brought back from death via cloning in the Guild Halls. He believed that it was part of a long and cunning plan by the ShadowTaker to control the mages, and that one of the eyes was what let him be dominated. I swear there was a hint of admiration when Scorch concluded the depth of the scheme. But it was the solution that was chilling, not for what it was, but for the casual way in which Scorch put it forward.

“Just remove my eye,” Scorch said to Dravot, as if he were ordering lunch. He accepted it in the same way one accepts that night fell, and stood there, waiting for Dravot to remove his affected organ. Dravot said little, but took a small silver knife from his healing kit, and did what had to be done. Scorch didn’t make a sound – except to examine the eye in interest once it was removed while Dravot bandaged him. I just felt sick to my stomach and hoped Dravot could regenerate a proper eye. Scorch was already babbling something about a magical gem to replace it.

We searched around carefully, finding a few interesting items around the room or on the bebbilith. The demonic spider had used one area to feed, and we found some trinkets from dead victims. Another room had a pile of holy symbols from most of the major religions of the Flaness. However each was crafted with a hidden symbol of Therizdun inside like what the druids had in the Grove. 

One room was a large workshop with a full forge and facilities. Aethramyr examined the facilities while I examined Rackhir’s shattered weapons. The bow was not the one Scorch had crafted for him, holding the djinn that was supposed to be his conscience. The bow was certainly not made by an elf, and it seemed to be not even made by someone who cared for the bow, as if the creator understood them but did not use them. Even Rackhir’s own work had more love in it than this – the weapon was completely mechanical and utilitarian with no art at all. It was made of wood and mithril and had no adornments at all. It suddenly struck me it had the same kind of plain feel as things generally did made by the Egg of Coot – it wasn’t so much the item but the design ethic.

Another similarity was the carts of vitaesis that were in the workshop. The carts each held a different type and were enchanted to prevent them from reacting with each other. From the dust on the floor, the vitaesis has been used in making magical items here. It also seemed that isometril had been used, but there was no supply in evidence in the workship. The shop itself was at least 300 years old but was not part of the original temple. 

More disturbing however was the smelting area, which had prototypes of the spider creatures that had contained the children, as well as various other elements of the Egg of Coot’s menagerie. However the things here were at least 200 years in sitting, which meant that there was a far deeper dimension to the happenings in the Land of Black Ice than we had previously known.  Another area held an alchemical lab, and there were vials of viscid sap. Scorch said if you wanted to create some of the Gulthias Horrors we have seen, you would need to start with this sap. So the ShadowTaker seems to have his hand in that as well. There were a few notes scattered about, but not many. Scorch was convinced there was ongoing research underway relating to the horrors and some of what was here was the early prototypes for creatures we have seen. The signs were also clear that there was more than one mage that worked here.

Once Scorch was bandaged, that only left Zera. She could probably be re-controled at any time the ShadowTaker felt like it. We protected her temporarily with a magic circle but this would not last. [Note that at this point Scorch said “I’ll keep an eye on her.” Ba-dump-bump.] We resolved to protect her as we could, and keep her bound the rest of the time. She was as willing as any of us, being somewhat ashamed of herself for being controlled so. Once these matters were attended to, we got ready to move. Zera reported could no longer hear her brother. Scorch scried him and he was still in the Beastiary and Rackhir was back there as well. Scorch had a sure sense that the Bestiary was located down the other pearlescent tunnel. Since there was nowhere to go from the forge, we went back to the other tunnel. 

We stepped through a threshold that seemed to put us on another demi-plane. The plane was strongly lawful and strongly magical. There was a semi-transparent door ahead and some branching corridors and just for a second I saw a movement of red beyond it. Later, as I write this, I can say with certainty it was a slaad. I can say this because a moment later we were attacked by some thirty of them.

From one hallway came a dozen blue slaad, from another a dozen red, and from behind us, a dozen green. The band was lead by a death slaad. And death is what came.

In an instant, there were spells and arrows and blades flying everywhere. Bolo used another wall of fire, and the slaad had nowhere to run. Scorch released a prismatic spray in another direction. Dravot used a wall of stone to cut off some of them. The battle was fast and bloody, but the blood was almost all from the slaadi. Within several seconds, most of the slaad were dead. The rest didn’t last much longer.

[Valanthe “It was a slaaughter.”]

From the corner of my eye, I saw one running away, and fired at it. It spilled forward in a heap, sliding into a room with a polished marble floor. As it entered, the body was suddenly jerked upward as if on strings. I leaned in to get a better look, and I saw hundreds of bodies inside the room, all floating in the air. And there was a hum or glow in the air – I can’t really describe it. But Dravot felt it immediately and he was gazing at the room while Scorch analyzed and made obscure calculations. Dravot took out his holy symbol and mouthed a quiet prayer before saying that he believed we were inside the Light of Reason. It was as if the artifact were opened up as a demi-plane, and we were inside one of the two central chambers. Or at least sort of. But if we were inside the artifact, how could we possibly recover it and use it against the ShadowTaker…


----------



## dravot

Stuff Zad couldn't put into the storyhour:

The second reason why Valanthe picked up Dravot was that the bebilith moved up and tried to swallow Kayleigh (catching a mirror image instead), which resulted in it blocking Dravot's path.  It was next to the lava pool.  Dravot was looking at a tumble check with dire consequences if he failed.  A ring of major fire protection notwithstanding, it didn't look like a lot of fun.

Bolo's dog started doing real damage to Zira, and Bolo's flame blade was starting to do real damage to Scorch.  It was looking pretty grim in that back corner.  The _wall of force_ spell that Scorch cast was probably the best one to keep Dravot away from the fight...if it weren't for the magic carpet, it might have been another 1-2 rounds before Dravot could have gotten there.

The slaad were led by a Death Slaad with a few levels of cleric in it.  It used a passwall spell to break through the _wall of stone_ that Dravot had cast.  We were looking at an ugly fight when Scorch cast _finger of death_ on it, something like a DC 28.

WizarDru: "He'll fail if he rolls a '1'".

*roll*

1.  


It was a fun night.


----------



## WizarDru

The Shadow-Taker stumbled backwards for a moment, a look of consternation upon his face.  Almost absent-mindedly, he passed his hand over his face, as if checking if he still had eyes there.

"_The paladin and the cleric...", he mumbled, "it's always the paladins and the cleric._"

The archer said nothing.

"_I know, you didn't expect anything to come of it_", he commented, glancing at the darkness before him.  "_But Scorch was a good tool, merely in need of sharpening.  Perhaps the way of reason may yet succeed._"

A cold breeze that passed for the archer's voice replied, "_And if that fails?_"

"_Then I suspect we'll be forced to use...*less elegant methods.*_"

The archer merely smiled, and began slicing his face with an arrowhead, drawing blood.   

It was the only way to amuse himself until his master realized there was no other way.  

Then he would have *his* chance.


----------



## Zad

If I get a chance, I'm going to compile a quick list of every major NPC and their lies. After the story is done.


----------



## Zad

*The Crypt of the ShadowTaker - Chapter 9*

*The Crypt of the ShadowTaker - Chapter 9*

OOC Notes:
Exp is 4,500.


This Week’s Adventure:
Puzzled, we took time to carefully examine the chambers in which we stood. There were two circular rooms, connected in one area. Throughout each, bodies floated in the vastness above – there had to be several hundred of them, of all races, sizes, and ages. [Wizardru: and templates]  We were able to find Rackhir and Zara both among them. Many of them had strange items grafted on to them. Some had appendages removed and things replacing them, either of metal or vegetation. The people who had no attatchments seemed to be in stasis, while the ones with them were not quite still. The devices were hurting them. The reason suddenly became clear - Scorch was sure we were on another plane, and Dravot was equally sure we were inside the Light of Reason. There was an apparent connection to the positive material plane, and we noticed that our wounds were being healed slowly. If the people were not being hurt slightly, they would burst from the positive energy.

We also found Brontal the Smith. But he wasn’t quite right – it seems he was now a dwarf, but I couldn’t begin to guess why.

A careful survey of the chambers revealed some very subtle work on the floor. There were some large panels of adamantite in the floor, carefully set among the stone and disguised to look like the surrounding floor. It was clearly not part of the original artifact. The plate in the floor in the one section of the artifact had the touch of abjuration magic, but the other panels did not. (They were not the same in shape either.) Scorch also began to identify a dimensional shift in the area that linked the two rooms. Aethramyr was able to detect an odd curtain of evil separating the two rooms. Dravot looked more carefully at the sacred inscriptions and saw that the one chamber seemed to be a mirror image of the second chamber. It almost seemed as if someone tried to duplicate the original, good chamber but was not completely successful. 

Suddenly, five hundred voices spoke with one mind. 

*I think it’s time we had another talk.*

The ShadowTaker again. We must be worrying him more.  The effect of all the voices speaking as one was quite overwhelming, but at the same time vaguely annoying. It was hard to make out all the words. Scorch, in a practical moment, said “Do you think you can tone it down a bit? That’s just a bit much.” 

The ShadowTaker obliged, using only one voice, but moving it from body to body as he spoke, trying to maintain his projection of power.

*”You have become quite the inconvenience. You should listen to my offer. For if you do not cooperate, I will simply kill all the people you see gathered here. They are completely mine and I will slay them all if you do not cooperate. Besides, there is much I can offer you. I have no doubt that we can come to some sort of arrangement that will benefit us both”* said Rackhir.

I glanced at Dravot and he at me and we shared some private words. Neither of us fancied the idea of all these people dead, but we could certainly not bow to the ShadowTaker’s demands. Neither of us really thought he would kill all these people and destroy his own power base. Dravot sagely pointed out that he might simply kill one at a time until we capitulated. That was more troubling, but in any case, I resolved that while unfortunate, these people might be casualties of this war. It was tragic but we had to press on.

A female voice near Scorch said *”For you, I can offer what you crave most – power. I can show you secrets not seen since the Sule.” *

Another voice spoke from a body near some of us. *”For the rest of you, I can offer you . . . freedom. Freedom of control for your friends or family.” *  The voices kept coming from bodies around the room, making it clear whom he was speaking at. A halfling voice said *”Go and seek out your son. He needs you. Follow this vision and you will find him. Yollonda commands it.” * Bolo bristled visibly, realizing now how his parents came to Ruun Khazai.

*”You must go lead the elven armies in the south. Your Queen needs you.”

“How long will the dreamer sleep?”

“When was the last time you saw Jasmine?”*

These last were to me, Aethramyr and Dravot. But interestingly, the Dreamer was already awakened by our own hand. It seemed that the ShadowTaker was taking what information he had, and trying to make it look like he had more of a hand in things than he truly did. Otherwise he would know the Dreamer had awakened already. Indeed his comments and entire bearing suggested to me he was trying to bluff us into believing him with more pull than he had.

Of course it hardly mattered. Not to me at any rate and not to most of us I think. He was evil, deceitful and manipulative. He could not be allowed to continue. And we were here, and we were going to stop him, come what may.

Bolo attempted a play at dismissal. “When you are dead, then they will all be free.” The ShadowTaker laughed from a dozen voices at once.

*What will happen to the puppets when the puppet master dies? All those poor little dolls with their strings cut. *

Bolo remained defiant but I believe he was worried. Between his parents, and the mention of Iuz attacking the grove, I think the old lich was getting to him. I don’t think Bolo’s determination was about to waver, but he was surely concerned.

I decided to turn the tables and take the conversation elsewhere, or at least try. “And why, I must wonder, would you deign to bargin with the likes of us? Why try to buy us off?” The reply was at once dismissive and yet annoyed.

*This whole affair has become… *_expensive.* It has forced me to use resources I would rather not have spent. And so it becomes simpler to deal with you this way. *_

“And how could a being such as you, one with such forethought and long planning, have come to find yourself in this position at all?” I wondered aloud. I didn’t really expect an answer, but it had crossed my mind.

But apparently the ShadowTaker didn’t have one. He instead turned on Dravot and changed the subject. *And what of you? The Living Saint. Have you nothing to say? *

Dravot was cold and determined. “I came to take that which you should not have.”

The puppets sighed in unison, seemingly deciding there was no talking to us. The ShadowTaker withdrew his presence, and we pondered our next action.

Ultimately we decided we needed some guidance. The inside of this artifact also seemed to have a strong connection with the Elysian Fields and Dravot entered a trance to commune with his god. Soon a point of light grew to a bright glow, and when it was full, a planetar stepped through.

*Greetings, Chalice bearer. You have summoned, and I have come to bring you the Knowledge of our Lord.*

After the appropriate prayers and blessings, Dravot asked his questions. “Is there anyone in our group besides Zera that has been tainted by the ShadowTaker’s domination?”

The planetar did not reply in words but instead, in a single fluid motion, and with a speed I could only envy, drew its shining greatsword and sliced out at Bolo, the tip stopping just short of his startled hand. There was an eternity of silence afterward, finally broken by the sound of a ring falling on the stone floor. The ring of ivy was cut in two, and clattered to the ground and stood still. The ring was a gift from Bolo’s goddess.

Or was it? Apparently not. As the ring lay on the ground, a drop of sap oozed from the broken edge. Scorch put a touch of it to his lips and casually remarked “Gulthite sap.”

Dravot asked “Would it be wise for us to tamper with the adamantite inlay in the floor here?” and gestured at the enchanted disk in the “good” section of the rooms.

The planetar took two steps towards the disk and started at it, then brought the sword down in as a spike and drove it into the floor. The room shook for a moment, then cracks appeared throughout the disk, and it shattered and fell away, revealing a spiral staircase beneath it. From below the stairs we could see a warm light, like the setting sun. The planetar looked calmly at Dravot.

*No.*

“And what of the other inlays there in the other room?”

*No.*

“Is it within our power to release the people imprisoned here from within this chamber?”

*No.*

“Will these stairs lead us to the Pyre of Pelor?”

*Yes.*

“Can we find the Light of Reason in the form of an object somewhere within the Bestiary?”

*Yes, beneath it.*

“Does the ShadowTaker have a weakness we can exploit?”

*Yes*

(I found this answer more depressing than not knowing. How can we find this weakness?)

“Has Bolo’s grove been attacked?”

*Not yet, but time here is subjective.*

“The ShadowTaker has threatened others close to us just now. Are they in immediate danger?”

*No.*

“Can he slay all the captives here as he threatened?”

*Yes.*

Here, we had some discussion as to what tack to take next. Bolo suggested asking if the ShadowTaker were somehow duplicated, and Scorch framed the question to provide detail.

“Is the ShadowTaker cloned?”

*No.*

“Is he simulaccrum’d?”

*No.*

“Can we destroy him without the Light of Reason?”

*No.*

“Can we destroy him with it?”

*Yes.*

“Is it safe to rest here?”

*No.*

“Will the Light of Reason let us activate the Mark of Fire?”

*Yes.*

Having no other questions, Dravot thanked the planetar and released him. The plantear bowed slightly to Dravot, and wished us luck. As he turned to go, he glanced at Bolo and added

*You have one question left. I will exceed my authority here and answer it. The question you would have asked – is he duplicated – the answer is yes.*

The light in the room faded, and Dravot looked strained from the effort, but less so than usual. He seemed to have a renewed energy, knowing the Light of Reason was nearby. And so we headed down the spiral staircase. With each step the oppressive nature of the area faded leaving no doubt we were transitioning to some other demi-plane. I could hear the sounds of gentle waves crashing on a distant shoreline and the smell of salt air added to the tranquil feeling. As the walls of the stairway fell away into a soft mist, a soft warm light shone from all around. The stairs hung in empty space, finally descending through a glowing fogbank to a grassy hill. The air was warm and pleasant, and the ocean was louder now. The hill was one of several that rolled over the area, forming a beautiful vista. To the south there were some mountains in the far distance, and even their peaks looked smooth and inviting rather than jagged and forbidding. I realized later that “south” was inappropriate, being a silly notion on another plane, but it seemed right at the time. 

The thin grass in the area was dotted by palm trees. The mix of vegetation was a bit odd but didn’t seem completely impossible. The ocean we heard was not an ocean but seemed to be more of an inland sea as the land seemed to reach around the water as it went off into the horizon. 

On the next hill over was a human boy. He seemed to be about fourteen and wore simple brown robes. In his lap was an ornate lantern. Around him flew a dozen kites, but their strings seemed to end in mid-air with no one holding them. But behind the hill he sat on, I saw the glint of polished armor from someone behind the hill. Valanthe and I pointed at it in unison.

We called out and waved at the boy, and he waved back. We approached him calmly and without threat. As we did, from behind the hill a massive figure of a man came forward. His plate armor glinted off the sun and he wore a full visor, hiding his face. The emblem of Pelor was clearly engraved on his chestplate. He stood between us and the boy, defensive though he carried no visible weapon. 

“Identify yourselves” he declared.

Dravot stood forward and did so in a friendly, non-challenging way. The guardian said “I see you bear a symbol. May I examine it?”  Having seen the cache of tainted holy symbols, we were hardly surprised. Dravot handed over his icon and the guardian raised his visor, revealing white hair and eyes glowing with a golden light. He turned it over in his hands and examined it closely. In short order he was satisfied and said “Only you may approach.”

The boy chimed in, saying “Sir Ferris, there’s no reason to be quite so rude. Please, all of you, be welcome. I haven’t had company for … a long time. Other than Sir Ferris of course.”

We had some pleasant simple conversation. The boy’s name was Aedan and he talked of kites and of dragons, though he’d never actually seen one. Valanthe and I looked at each other and asked if he’d like to see one and offered to make an illusion for him. After a bit of idle chatter, Aedan looked at Dravot.

“So are you the one who’s supposed to take this?” looking briefly at the lantern in his lap.

Dravot looked at it, all at once uncertain how to answer. “I suppose that I am.” I had to admire the fact that Dravot has never become so sure of himself as to start thinking of himself as charged with divine purpose, even though he is. He has the modesty of a true hero. Without any further ceremony, the boy hands him the lantern, and the hill scene fades away, replaced by a small cloister room. The scene was something that the lantern created to indulge Aedan it seems. Aedan still looked like a normal boy, though with a hint of a suffuse golden glow behind his iris’. 

The lantern was also quite in need of recharging, as we had been lead to believe. Aedan repeated the lesson (with all the zeal of any schoolboy) about the litany of the Light of Reason. “Only one who is pure of heart and dedicated to the principles of Pelor may bear the lantern without injury. He who bears the lantern may take it into the presence of the Pyre of Pelor. He who does so will not be burned alive nor smitten by the holy aura that surriounds it. He may then light the lantern and restore its power.”

I would hardly have been surprised if the boy added “Bla bla bla.”

Aedan knew the location of the pyre and lead us back up the stairs. He was quite surprised at the scene in the room above – he had fled down here during the initial attack and all this had changed since he was forgotten below. The stairs to the Pyre were beneath the other adamantite floor panel. The planetar had told us it would be unwise for us to tamper with them, but since we now had the Light of Reason, it all seemed clear. Mirroring the planetar in his own way, Aethramyr drove Shatterspike through the panel and shattered it into fragments. A wave of divine warmth rushed from the new set of stairs before us.

[OOC Note: at this point, I told Dravot to look inside the lantern and see if he could see us in there. He did so and got dizzy. Thus leading us back to the old adage “Do you plan on taking any levels of Alienist? Because doing things like that is how you get there!”]

Dravot descended the staircase alone and the heat and light intensified as he did so. The lantern began to pulse in resonance with the energy. The walls, originally stone, looked as though they had been in a great kiln, and were melted and glazed together. Dravot descended for several minutes, arriving at a massive iron pillar that stood in his way.

No. Not a pillar. A leg. 

The golem stood over eighty feet tall, but the glow of a miniature sun could still be seen flowing around it. Dravot could only see to the tops of the feet however. But then a massive iron hand came down, blocking the light from the Pyre. Slowly, the eyes cracked open and light shone out on Dravot, examining his worth. A deep rumbling echoed throughout the cavern, and only slowly did Dravot realize it was the golem speaking. It said only one word.

*Yes*

It withdrew its hand, and stood back up and took a step back, allowing him to pass. Dravot approached the Pyre, like a flame swimming upwards. The column of energy was an armspan wide and twenty feet high, jetting out from a fissure in the earth. The lantern was pulsing more now, almost craving to be lit once again. Dravot thrust it into the fire, and the lantern drank of the divine energy within. The lantern then burst forth its own light and Dravot pulled it from the Pyre and a holy power suffused the area.*

Also, Dravot could feel his Mark of Fire now revealed. It was yellowish in color and had migrated to his neck. Dravot returned with the lit lantern and the holy golden light washed over us all**, and all eyes went to the Mark of Fire now revealed on Dravot’s neck. I was uncertain what would happen when the marks became active, but I was sure it would be better to have before bracing the ShadowTaker. Scorch went first, and Dravot touched the lantern to Scorch, who’s mark began glowing on his shoulder a dull red but was otherwise unchanged. Bolo went next, and the Mark was revealed on his forehead. It was not the Mark of Fire but the Mark of Earth however.

Valanthe’s Mark was revealed in white on the back of her hand, shining against her black skin. For me, the Mark of Fire took the place of my Archer’s Nock on the back of my hand. It was like a subtle scar, pinkish on my hand and looked natural.

Aethramyr demurred. Pelor was not his goddess and he felt it would be wrong to impose on Pelor in such a way. The choice was his to make of course and we accepted. For a time I felt embarrassed – Pelor was not my god either. However I later realized I have acted on Pelor’s behalf at times, and if he had chosen, he could have withheld his boon. So I accepted things as they have happened, knowing full well that Corellion can make his wishes plain if he has need, and following my heart until then.

We then had the issue of weapons of power. The Pyre was said to be one source that could infuse power into items beyond the normal measures. Dravot gathered up his mace, Valanthe’s blades, Shatterspike, and my bow. He took the items to the Pyre, and held each within. When he returned, it was easy to tell the weapons had been infused with the power of the Pyre. None of them were damaged, though it was clear they could have been sundered by such power. It is not something I would care to repeat for fear the bow would shatter, but for the time being, the weapons had magic beyond what the Art could grant.***

Dravot focused his mind on the curse afflicting Zera and Zara. It turns out the curse is actually a protection extended by the Lantern. Now that it is in proper hands, the protection can be lifted, and the curse was ended and Zera was free of any influence by the ShadowTaker. Zara was still hanging above us, and would, it seems, need to be released by other methods.

After each being touched by the Light of Reason, we found ourselves refreshed and our minds renewed. The spellcasters took some time to get their spells renewed in their minds, each to his own method. We were now well prepared to press on. Of course there was the matter of Aedan. We didn't wish to leave him and we couldn't take him with us. Dravot solved the problem by plane shifting him to the Elysian Fields where he could hopefully be at ease, his burden ended.

It occurs to me that perhaps this is why the ShadowTaker tried to bargain with us there – he knew we were close to the Light of Reason, and with it we would surely come for him. If he could have diverted us, he could have avoided much uncertainty about what was to come. We now had the means of the ShadowTaker’s destruction in our hands, but we still had to complete our task. We examined the areas around the prison chamber and found little of interest, save a corridor leading out of the area. It was blocked by a transluscent door, trapped with a Wail of the Banshee. The same spell that had killed Valanthe. She took out some special tuning forks and disabled the trap, then spat on it for good measure. Another door ahead had the same trap, and received identical treatment.

We passed through an iris door, and it shut behind me as Valanthe was moving ahead. Then water started pouring in from concealed holes. I looked at her as the water was rising to our ankles and she shrugged with slight embarrassment. She quickly worked to bore a hole in the door and let the water of the trap spill into the hallway, and I had the good sense to stand back and let her work. She quickly got things under control then got the doors open again.

Beyond this area was a large chamber. It was worked in marble and seemed to be some kind of grand reception hall. The chamber rose gradually on small sets of marble stairs at intervals. Lining the walls were all sorts of dolls and mannequins. Some were decorated, some not. They were porcelain, fetish dolls, and every other type you could imagine. 

We all smelled some kind of trap. We had the lantern now – the ShadowTaker would have to stop us by any means necessary, no matter how expensive it was. And we weren’t disappointed. Something burst up from the floor as we entered. It was like a gigantic puppet, made like some kind of huge shark with small feet. It had rows of long teeth framed in a beard that hung down and its long body coiled through the far end of the room. The eyes started out with intelligence and malice and then energy began crackling across its back and it released a spray of lightning down the hallway.

The storm of lighting broke over us without being nearly as bad as it looked. The creature however did not look like something to be trifled with and we waited until Scorch’s _mass haste_ touched us before moving in. 

The creature was smart and fierce and the battle was pitched. It was absorbing an amazing amount of punishment and not showing any signs of slowing down. Valanthe’s dragon-bane blade was cutting deep gashes but the beast still kept coming. Scorch was lobbing sonics into the room while Bolo’s flame strikes rolled off the puppet. I was having a hard time making clean shots, and started firing multiple arrows per draw but taking more time to aim. Valanthe was also employing her shadows to good effect, slowly but surely sapping the creature’s strength.

Then the creature snapped out on its serpentine neck and swallowed Dravot in a gulp. And that was the end. It was over. The creature didn’t know it yet, but it was dead. The last thing any monster wants to do is swallow Dravot.

The creature began bellowing and the winds roared in answer. But before it could call whatever storm it had in mind, Aethramyr brought Shatterspike down hard and the creature reeled and the storm dissipated. We continued to press the attack, waiting for the beast to explode from the inside. Valanthe’s blades flashed on one side while I landed arrows into the puppet’s joints and Scorch fired a sonic cone and still the beast was going strong.

Then it stopped and a shiver ran down the length of its body. It fell back a single step, then collapsed in a heap, its strings cut. As the magic unraveled, so too did the puppet, and wood shattered and splintered while metal tore with a shriek. The creature flew apart, sending parts everywhere. There revealed was Dravot, who dusted himself off as if he’d just come in from a horseback ride.

At the creature’s death, all the other dolls and puppets began to slowly move and come to life. The began shuffling our way with disjointed movements. Scorch yelled out some kind of challenge and released a sonic _meteor swarm_ and the puppets on one side of the room were reduced to pieces no bigger than a walnut. Even for Scorch, that seemed a bit excessive. He hoards his powerful spells so closely I couldn’t understand why he just let one fly. I opened fire on the dolls and they fell apart with only an arrow each, and we easily reduced the remaining ones to pieces with hardly an effort. And Scorch still looked like he’d have used another _meteor swarm_ if he’d had it, his remaning eye with a slightly crazed glint hiding in it.

Looking over the dragon-esque puppet, I said loudly “I bet that was . . . expensive,” and just grinned. 

The door on the far end of the chamber was trapped with a disjunction spell but was eliminated by Valanthe. The door opened to reveal a throne room. On the throne was a lich. The ShadowTaker sat, waiting for us, alone.

Well not entirely alone. To one side, waiting and invisible, were five Mariliths, one of whom was noticeably bigger than the others. To the other side were eight gelugons, also with a pack leader and similarly invisible.

I clearly remember the last thought I had before the fight broke out. “That is SO not the ShadowTaker.”



_* The lantern now gives off the effect of a _Holy Aura_ for a forty foot radius, and the effects of a _Bless_ spell for another twenty feet, for all allies within the area._

_** In brightest day
   In blackest night
   No evil shall avoid my sight
   (giggles madly and runs off)_

_*** The weapons are temporarily +6 weapons. We don’t know how long it will last._


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*A Gift and a Warning*

Bolo looked at the Lantern in awe. Dravot looked like he had been cleansed and reborn within the Pyre and the lantern was holding a small portion of that energy itself.
He watched as Scorch touched the lantern and his Mark of Fire awoke on his sholder. 
It was his turn. Bolo stepped up to the light of reason and touched his lips to it in a show of reverance to Pelor's gift.

Suddenly he was in a small cave/building and sitting in front of him were the 3 women who he served. Yondalla was the first to speak. 
"Dearest Bolo, I watched as you were born and as your father and mother raised you. I have seem all and been most pleased. It was both my pleasure and my loss that you chose to worship Ehlonna over me, but I have never left your side. I am here to let you know that I will always love you for the Halfling that you truly are." The mother of all Halflings resplendent in her simple frock and holding her cornicopia/shield stepped back and allowed the youngest woman approach. "Thank you mother of my people. I will always honor you." Bolo said to her.
"Ehlonna!" Bolo cried, "My lady how may I be of service."
Ehlonna looked at Bolo with a look of concern. "Bolo I am concerned that you are loosing your way. You have killed ruthlessly and have devoted yourself so wholey to the cause of the green that you are neglecting your duties to your friends and family."
"What do you mean? Have I not been faithful to your word? Isn't killing Slaad and those Frog creatures a good thing?" the druid asked.
"I ask you. What happened to the loving Halfling that I raised? Has he changed so much because of his outward form is now that of the chosen people of his Goddess?" Yondalla said from behind the others.
"I'm still that person! I just have so much responsibility now. I have lives to save and people to feed. I never wanted to be the Grand Druid!" Bolo said back.
"And you never will be without staying true to who you are." Beory said walking up and standing next to Ehlonna. "You are showing signs that youi are not following the ways of the greater good. I can understand that and will welcome you into my fold if you decide to accept the ballance of nature in all its forms."

"I cannot do that. I'm a good being and will remain so. The world does not have to be so dark as we have seen." Bolo said. "Ehlonna, my lady please forgive me. I will try harder."

Bolo felt the fire on his forehead and drew his face away from the flames. It had been an illusion, or was it?


----------



## dravot

*Shadowtaker’s Crypts: The Light of Reason*

I now possess a true artifact of my God and my church.  It is a truly humbling experience, and at the same time, I feel absolutely alive with power and the possibilities that stretch before me.  I expected that taking it in my hands would be a bigger deal, but it was like picking up any other enchanted item.   I felt a warm glow, like I was basking in the sun on a warm day, but it wasn’t until I put the lantern into the Flame of Faith that I came to appreciate the power of the artifact.

I find it hard to get the lich-foe’s taunts out of my mind.  I have done my best to present an impassive and dedicated presence, both before the ShadowTaker and before my compatriots, but I have had nagging doubts.   Those doubts are now gone, and in their place I find only a zealous hatred of everything that our enemy has done; to us; to my church, and to the Flaeness as a whole.

I know that the artifact is an instrument of good; that is it exists to do good things.  It certainly did when it helped me to sever Zira from the ShadowTaker’s puppetstrings. At the same time, all I can think of is it’s use as a weapon, as a hammer to crush my enemies and make things safe for everyone.  Surely, this is a good thing, and yet I cannot let go of the inherent contradiction present before me.

I look forward to his final death, that we might be able to return this place to it’s peaceful origins.  Goodness knows that my tolerance and patience are wearing thin.

I must go.  Valanthe is heading forward to begin scouting.  I hope that this ends soon.

------------------------
The Light of Reason

The Light of Reason is an artifact of Pelor, a lantern crafted by Henfar, a silversmith of the town of Sesstis Ro.   It contains a small part of Pelor's Pyre, a powerful flame of white fire that emanates on the Prime at the will of Pelor.

Anyone holding the lantern gains the benefit of (essentially) an empowered _Holy Aura_ (+6 deflection bonus, +6 resistance bonus to saves, SR 37 against evil spells and spells cast by evil creatures.  Evil creatures succeeding in melee strikes must make a Fort Save 24 or be blinded).

Good aligned creatures within a 30' radius of the lantern gain most of the benefits of _Holy Aura_ (+4 deflection bonus, +4 resistance bonus to saves, SR 25 vs. evil spells, no blinding effect).

Good creatures 30'-60' from the lantern gain the benefits of _Bless_

Light, 30' radius as the _Daylight_ spell.


----------



## Zad

*The Crypt of the ShadowTaker - Chapter 10*

*The Crypt of the ShadowTaker - Chapter 10*

OOC Notes:
Exp is 5000.

Loot:
There was some. Let’s cover that after the story what say.

This Week’s Adventure:
The torchlight flickered over the polished marble chamber for what seemed like an hour. On the raised dias in front of the throne stood the ShadowTaker, or what we were no doubt supposed to believe was the ShadowTaker. He wore slightly tattered wizard’s robe, and his eye glowed red in his skull. I quickly relayed that the lich was not alone, despite the appearances to the contrary. I could only hope that the assorted fiends would be revealed once they attacked – it would be a lot of work to glitterdust them all.

The figure on the dias spoke. “You should not have come here. I gave you the final warning, and now the time has come for your death.”

Before he could do anything else, we attacked. Scorch’s Mass Haste washed over us, and we wasted no time moving in. The scene went from calm to chaotic in a heartbeat – fiends began appearing as they attacked, and magical energies were flying all over the room. 

I flew in to one side of the room and loosed a volley at a nearby marilith, who collapsed in a heap with four arrows piercing straight through her chestplate.  Then behind me the telltale grey-green cloud of a cloudkill spell appeared. The poison was inconsequential but it did keep the entryway hidden in gas. Which side that helped more I can’t really say. 

We were still moving into the room when the two fiendish commanders shimmered and the illusions surrounding them dropped. They were revealed as two golems. One was made of amythyst vitaesis and metal fused together, while the other one was clearly isometril. The vitaesis golem fired a ray at me, and several of my weaker spells fell away. Rather annoying really. Just after that one of the gelugons teleported behind me. My lip lifted slightly into a small wry smile as I glanced at it over my shoulder, barely turning my head; it would never live long enough to finish the attack it had started. My faith was not without basis – Aethramyr charged in and dealt the creature a blow solid enough to knock the creature to its knees. It looked at him, its hideous teeth clenched in pain, and said “This wasn’t my idea.” 

Aethramyr shrugged. “Then go.” The devil just grimaced – things didn’t work that way.

The ShadowTaker used a Mass Haste on several of his own forces, and then started blinking into the Shadow plane. I counted myself lucky that was all he did. With the haste in place, the isometril golem charged at Aethramyr, its massive fist smashing crater into the marble floor as it crashed down where it thought Aethramyr was. With the closing of another marilith, this left me in the thick of the fight much more than I was comfortable with but there was little I could do about it for now.

Dravot entered, with Zera and Thorkeld on his heels. He cast a symbol of persuasion and many of the demons and devils were now friendly to him. However this didn’t make them any more friendly to the rest of us. Zera lunged with her naginata and ichor spurted from a devil despite his invisibility. The devil returned the attack, catching her hard with his spear. 

There was a black flash near the door, and in its wake was Beryldn, Valanthe’s shadow cohort. With him was another shadow – a gnome or halfling female. I wasn’t sure what it meant but I had bigger worries at the time. They joined Valanthe and Verilunda and rushed one of the mariliths. The demons swayed a bit as half her strength left her in a rush while Valanthe cut into her.

A whirlwind tore through the cloudkill, dispersing most of it, and settled near the ShadowTaker. Apparently Bolo had shifted into an air elemental form. Bolo threw a Summon Swarm at the lich, but it just rolled off him and he laughed, taunting Bolo. “What is this? This is nothing. Where are the real spellcasters?”

Oh that was the wrong thing to say. Scorch screeched into the room “Real spellcasters?!? Real spellcasters?!? Why hello!” Then the air rippled as a chain sonic spell rebounded between some of the outsiders and the ShadowTaker. A magical shield surrounding the lich absorbed most of it, but the fiends didn’t fare nearly so well.

Back on my side of the chaotic battle, I decided to stay close and support Aethramyr. I finished off the injured gelugon who had teleported behind me, and the advancing marilith right after him. This gave Aethramyr some room to deal with the isometril golem.

Then a wave of white washed over the battle and then another – apparently the devils were throwing cones of cold. Lucky for me they were just out of range but most of the others weren’t so fortunate. It wasn’t enough to stop the fight, and the fiends continued to exchange blows with the shadows and the Pelor followers.

[We are now referring to the collective groups as “Team Shadow” and “Team Sun”.]

The ShadowTaker chuckled a bit, having something special in mind for Scorch. He spoke words that should not be spoken, and the ceiling above Scorch cracked and shattered. A black light shined down on Scorch, and then a rain of black fists descended from above. The flurry knocked Scorch to the side, but the wicked light and rain of fists continued. Dissatisfied with the results, the ShadowTaker caused Scorch to disappear – probably in the Maze. 

Aethramyr was focused on the golem. Shatterspike, having tasted of the Pyre of Pelor, would likely penetrate into the machine. But my arrows had no such advangate. Aethramyr smiled, and tossed me a small brooch – the Scarab of Golembane that we had rattling around. I could only laugh, and after a wink Aethramyr turned back to the golem and they traded a fierce set of blows. As the golem smashed into Aethramyr’s armor, white hot sparks burst forth, but Sehanine’s champion gave as good as he got, and the infused Shatterspike cut chunks out of the golem. Aethramyr might be holding, but even he couldn’t take that kind of punishment for long. I muttered a quiet invocation and started firing at the golem. Despite the golem’s incredible power, it was still vulnerable to the simple magic of the scarab, and my arrows sliced through the solid metal in a rather unnatural way. The golem shudders as the arrows destroyed joints, and things started looking better.

Dravot was still hard at work, and waves of light washed over the room, causing mayhem for the fiends. Then he teleported with Zera near the ShadowTaker. Zera flexed her knees and was ready to strike the moment the ShadowTaker tried to cast another spell. The ShadowTaker didn’t care for being so close and immediately tried to teleport away. His casting got him assaulted brutally, but a lich must be immune to pain because he still managed to complete the spell, and reappeared on the other side of the room. But rather than vent himself on Dravot (who I think he was starting to fear) he instead focused on me. He let loose another black spell and viscid tendrils of oily blackness reached out and began tearing at my bow. But before they could tear it apart, I focused my magic and my training – I am a Champion, chosen of Corellion and if that lich thought he could destroy my bow that easily he had another thought coming. The wash of energy sent the tendrils recoiling and they sunk back to the shadows they came from.

The combat continued to rage, and more of the fiends were getting sent back to the hells that spawned them. Dravot then began his assault on the ShadowTaker, and using the Light of Reason as a focus, sent a sunbeam bursting forth and it utterly destroyed the lich, leaving only tattered robes and ash behind. After a moment, a glow settled in, and a flashing iscosohedron floated out of the ashes, and then burst in a flash of light as it was drawn through the back wall on a red cord of energy.

The fiends looked at each other for a long moment. But even the blood war was not enough to make them want to stay. Uttering a few foul curses at each other, they retreated to their home planes. That left only the golems standing.

I turned another volley on the isometril golem, and it creaked and tiny fractures spread over its surface. A sudden light began shining from the fractures and the inherently unstable isometril blew apart, sending a wave of searing heat over everyone in the area. As for the vitaesis golem, Bolo and Thorkeld had been holding it back. Bolo’s rusting grasp had some good effect on the metal parts of the beast but Thorkeld was overmatched. Valanthe, now free to tend to this, ordered them back, and casually dodged her way to the golem, dropping an opposing vitaesis crystal into one of the rusted holes. As she slid away from the golem, it lurched and then exploded, leaving little more than smoke in its wake.

Staring at the lich ashes, Scorch started mumbling something about “eidolon”. When we got him to speak common again, he explained it was some kind of construction like a simulacrum but more powerful in ways. 

Then a slow, deliberate clapping started. An obvious illusion formed in the center of the room, slowly and patronizingly clapping in applause at the grand melee. The figure was almost completely hidden in robes and a deep hood. The hands, oddly, were different colors and my gaze narrowed as I saw the archer’s nock on one of them. The face, when I could see it, was a puppet’s mask with two different colored eyes. One, I noted ironically, was the color of Scorch’s proper eye.

The ShadowTaker continued his applause. “Well done. Well done.”

I looked at the illusion with all the innocence I could muster and asked “Has this gotten expensive yet?”

Even through the puppet mask I could tell a sneer. “You continue to vex me. But you cannot stop destiny. My offer still stands – you can leave now. You cannot stop the one I serve.”

Dravot looked at the illusion coldly. “Therizdun” he spat.

“Aye, of course Therizdun. Why the chaos that has been sown in the last year alone has been excellent. And it would have been much better, had it not been for you, bumbling about in matters you did not understand.”

Dravot replied quietly. “We have come this far to destroy you. We will not turn back now.”

“Destroy me? You cannot destroy me. But you will learn for yourselves. Come into my maze, if you dare. We await you.” The illusion faded. 

The wall through which the energy went was solid and real. However it did seem a bit thinner, as if designed for a passwall to allow passage through it. We didn’t have a passwall, but I wasn’t about to waste time with it. I took some of the vitaesis left from the shattered golem, and piled it by the wall. Then Aethramyr handed me a piece of the opposite vitaesis, and from the far side of the room I tossed it at the pile. There was a suitable explosion, and a set of stairs were revealed.

Before we set onto the stairs, Dravot focused on the lantern. His eyes glowed with a yellow light and he spread the protection of Pelor upon us all. We quickly felt emboldened, and ready to face the evil that lie below. Dravot and Bolo made other preparations, Bolo summoning a veritable swarm of earth elementals, forming out of the cracked marble around the chamber. Wasting no further time, we descended the stairs. 

The stairs ended in a short passage, and at the end were walls of energy that flickered on and off. The entire area beyond the passage seemed to float in space with stars twinkling in the blackness, reminding me of the starfields under Castle Greyhawk. The stars were disturbing, not comforting. Scorch breathed something about the Far Realms. There were successive walls of the flickering energy, one inside of the next. There was no floor or ceiling but clearly something supported the figures we could see ahead.

Ahead was an elf who was completely black. He was not entirely dissimilar from Aethramyr, and indeed sounded like the dark champion he had seen in his dreams. He slowly drew a wicked elven blade in challenge.  Behind him and to one side was another dark protector – this one carrying a bow like the one made for Rackhir, though the wielder was certainly not him. He too was black as night, but still reminded me of myself somehow.

And in the center, on a small dias, was the ShadowTaker, looking just as he had in the illusion, save being coated in a shimmering energy. But here his robes were in constant motion, rippling and flowing. He reached up, and took the mask aside with one hand. Under it, there was nothing but worms flowing and wriggling. Bolo gasped. “A worm that walks. Ehlonna protect us.” 

I remember thinking “It’s too late for that. We must protect ourselves, and each other.” Then I looked at the mass of crawling worms and thought “Correlian protect us.”

Not knowing what the walls would do, I fired an experimental volley. Some hit the wall but one did make it through and stuck in the dark champion, who grunted and pulled out the arrow. He tossed a potion and dropped the vial on the floor – it bounced once then fell through the floor into the blackness below. 

Valanthe flickered into the shadows and was able to flow through the walls with minimal difficulty. Inside the air was cooler and thinner, as if up a vast mountain. Fortunately Pelor’s blessing lessened the impact of this unusual plane, and provided some degree of protection. We each tried to move through the walls and only luck seemed to make the final choice as to success. Aethramyr managed to move through during a flicker, and rushed the dark archer. 

The ShadowTaker hasted himself, and then produced two pieces of vitaesis in the severed hands he carried. The stones cracked and evaporated and his head rolled back with unconcealed menace as he was encased in a black shadow, the effect of which I could only guess at. 

After having tried to push through the wall several times, I gave up and some of us teleported through the wall and moved around the next wall to engage the defenders. That’s when the ShadowTaker amusedly opened a hole in the inner wall, and cast a horrid wilting. The screams only made the worms wriggle faster. 

The shadow champion came forward to meet Aethramyr. They seemed evenly matched. Or perhaps not. How could they be? Aethramyr had something the dark champion did not – friends. The champion sliced quickly with his blade, but found only the displaced image of Aethramyr. To make sure it wasn’t an even fight, I fired at the champion – he avoided some of them, but could not duck them all. One shaft bit deep into his shoulder and he fell back a step.

The shadowy archer mirrored my move, and fired several arrows at Aethramyr in a single draw. Unfortunately Aethramyr was easier to find as a mark, and the arrows hit hard. Scorch decided that the archer needed some time out of the battle, and cast Maze on him. It was my hope that we could take good advantage of the time. 

Dravot teleported into the next chamber with Zera and Thorkeld. He brought forth Pelor’s light against the ShadowTaker, and the worm recoiled from it, but was not destroyed. I was amazed he had that much effect, then remembered the shining lantern he carried, which glowed in a golden hunger to destroy the creature that imprisoned it for so long. I suspected the inner force wall was protecting the worm – it didn’t flicker like the others. Bolo forced his way through the outer wall as well, but before he could do anything else, the ShadowTaker uttered an unholy word and Bolo was slain where he stood. But even as his lifeless body crumpled to the ground amid the worm’s chuckle, the golden glow intensified, and the body began reforming, and the old wizard’s chuckle was cut short as he realized that his enemy would be renewed in mere moments.

Zera and Thorkeld moved in to support Aethramyr and did a fine job at that. The shadow champion reeled under the barrage of attacks. The champion, brave but not foolish, moved back to give himself room to fight. But in his haste he moved past Valanthe, who reached out with one thin blade across his throat.  In a single silent movement, she sent the champion tumbling forward, his head half off his neck.

The ShadowTaker, still recoiling from Dravot, opened another hole and sent rays of colored light forth across the paladins in a prismatic spray, but the powerful enchantment played over them without serious effect. But even as he did so, Valanthe was acting to deny him his defense inside the force wall, and used several crystals to cut off his arcane protection. He just sneered as the wall flickered and fell away, leaving him exposed but hardly defenseless. Scorch seized the opportunity and dispelled several of the worms other protections. 

Dravot then saw his moment. The enemy was exposed and vulnerable. He summoned Pelor’s might and power of the sun, using the Light of Reason to focus and intensify the power. His arm burned with the golden energy but the priest of Pelor had more force of will than any man I have known and he was not about to flinch now. The sunlight finally burst forth from the lantern, and thousands of worms screamed as one. They burst from the holy light and the pieces burned as they fell to the ground, leaving not even a fragment left of the creature. There was an empty clatter as the robes and scrolls fell to the floor, along with the two severed hands, the mask and the eyeballs.

There was a pregnant moment as we all stared at the fallen worm, not daring to believe it was ended. We might have stood there an eternity, but a shockwave rippled through the walls of force. We looked at each other and knew it would be bad for us if we stayed here. We grabbed Bolo’s reformed body – some kind of centaur now – as well as the ShadowTaker’s remains and ran for the exit as fast as we could. Just as the last of us reached it, the outer walls began collapsing, exposing the area to the far realms. But even this hallway was not safe, and was shaking. We ran back to the marble hall but the connection to the next demi-plane was severed and we were trapped. The shockwaves were penetrating the entire complex and it seemed we would find no safety anywhere. Knowing we could reach the Shadow Plane from here, Valanthe said that’s where we should go, and she had the means to move us there. I knew nothing of the Shadow Plane, but it had to be better than staying here.

A wash of shadow fell over us, and we were stretching towards the Shadow Plane. We arrived in an instant and were standing in a large group on a street in a city or large town. The buildings were strangely shaped, like it was a dream. The bottoms were sometimes smaller than the tops – it was like a carnival mirror. The entire place looked greyed out, as if most of the color had been drained from it, though a hint remained, like a faded tunic. Valanthe however looked like a black chalk etching, and her outline was fuzzy and blurred. As for us, we were still colorful – in fact we seemed too colorful for this place. It was like when my young sister had on too much makeup. The Light of Reason continued to blaze merrily, seeming quite out of place so Dravot finally shuttered it to draw less attention. Of course there didn’t seem to be anyone on the street at the moment. But I had the feeling we’re going to draw attention regardless of the lantern.

Then something happened. There was light, and darkness all at once. Scorch’s crystal around his neck suddenly shattered. Lights and glass all up and down the street shattered as well. Somehow, somewhere, something much larger than the death of an ancient lich just happened. Scorch was sure a major planar event had just occurred. 

But what? I’m scared to find out.

The Return of Loot:
Spellbook of the ShadowTaker, including many high level spells and two epic spells (epic mage armor and an arrow reflection spell.)
Scroll of Fireball (10th level)
Scroll of Teleport without error
Scroll of Acid Fog
Scroll of Incendiary cloud
Scroll of Shape Change
Scroll of Wail of the Banshee
Scroll of Horrid Wilting
Scroll of Summon monster IX
Potion of Haste
Amulet of Natural Armor +2
Bracers of Armor +8
Ring of Protection +3
Gloves of Dexterity +4
Headband of Intillect +6
Pink Ioun stone (+2 con)
+5 mithril breastplate
+4 mithril buckler
+2 keen vitaesis elven thinblade (this weapon is not evil)
+5 flaming burst composite longbow (might, +4)


A note for the gentle reader:
The characters of this campaign are now all 20th or 21st level, at least as far as the amount of experience they've accumulated. The campaign is now epic-level, however none of the characters are truly 21st level yet. Each will need to undertake some ordeal in order to fully realize their new powers, and that will vary by individual. What exactly that will be, we do not know yet.

Also, the campaign will take a short hiatus - we will be playing the Avonshar campaign for a few weeks. During that time there will be no major adventures here, but I suspect (you may read that as _hope_ if you like) that things will happen, charaters will have interactions and sidebar events, and assorted smaller updates will be made. Personally, the curiousity is killing me.

If there is interest, we can probably put up stat blocks in the rogue's gallery for the 21st level Meepites.


----------



## WizarDru

Hans-Pieter the FireWarden was, simply put, not very smart.

Oh, it was true, he was a learned man.  He had studied the books of reason and magical dynamics.  He had travelled to Sigil, and visited the Abyss, once.  

_"A *Dreadful place*, that"_, he thought to himself.

He was tall, even for an Oeridean, and his name owed as much to his dusky appearance and bright red shock of hair as it did to his talents with magic.  His name was impressive, and it certainly had won him the affection of the many a sweetling besides...though more often of the bumpkin variety.  Hans-Pieter's almost criminal lack of ambition, at least in the eyes of his peers, led to him getting duties within the guild that were otherwise difficult to assign.

It was because of this that the FireWarden found himself maintaining the Source Majere.  Few arcanists cared to worry themselves with the maintenance of the Source, let alone to tarry for hours within the center of Pyramid Arcane doting upon it.  Nevermind that it was the center and heart of the power of the guild, or one of the most compelling reasons to join...it was a inconvienence.  And wizards hate to be inconvienenced.

Thus, Hans-Pieter found himself tending to the Source more often than not.  As a member of the Onyx, he had a group of twelve apprentices to order about, all charged with it's maintenance.  It was an easy stipend from the guild for little work...and he did get free access to the spell pool.  For an unambitious man such as he, it was a worthy calling.

When one of the apprentices suddenly called down from the catwalk over the third level, saying he had noticed an irregularity, Hans-Pieter was unconcerned.  He glanced up at the giant azure gem-stone, a tear-drop some forty feet high, and shook his head.  Foolish boys, he thought.  He thought this of the second and third, as well.  The Source was the eye of a dead god, it was believed, captured from the Astral.  Quite unpredictable things, really.

By the time that the sorceress known as the Slaker of Thirsts (although not Hans-Pieter's, it should be mentioned, which may have been why he was disinclined to her) arrived, he was starting to become agitated.  

When all of their crystals shattered, as one, genuine concern had finally started to dawn.  One apprentice, an unruly boy, ran from the room in unconcealed hysteria.  Obviously, it was time that he put his foot down.

_"Now see here, all of you!  This is quite unaccept..."_

Before he could finish the sentence, the room was filled with a sound of a great CRACK.  All heads turned to look at the Source Majere, it's perfectly smooth form now marred by a vicious crack.  Suddenly, there were dozens of cracks expanding outwards.

_"I say!  That's not quite..."_

His babbling was this time interrupted by the scream from the Slaker of Thirsts, whose eyes began to bleed.  A madness overtook her, then, and she began screaming random phrases...and then teleported somewhere else.  Rather than being afraid, the FireWarden merely felt pleased that she was gone.  This momentary revery was shattered as a sound like thousands of pieces of glass washed over him.

_"Well....that's not right."_

As the container for all the collected energy of the spell pool cracked, Hans-Pieter simply watched in horror and fascination.  One fleeing apprentice was struck down by a maximized magic missle spell.  What fool had put that in there?  Another was turned into an Umber Hulk, then petrified.  He couldn't see what the prismatic spray was doing to the others.

As a Sonic Meteor Swarm, Empowered Acid Ball and Ice-admixtured Lightning Bolt all flew towards him, the last thing that Hans-Pieter would ever think was, "Why is everyone so obssessed with sonics, honestly?"

Hans-Pieter, as we have mentioned, was *not* very smart.


----------



## Destan

Argent said:
			
		

> *
> geek. *




Hahahaha! Good stuff.

I've blown it on this story hour because I've read the last dozen or so posts prior to starting from the beginning.  Now I can go back and blissfully waste more time at work.

Curious - did you cats decide as a group to go Epic, or did Dru make that decision, or was it some other combination?  

I'm a bit torn right now in my own campaign whether to go beyond 20th or start a new one.  Still have a ways to go, I s'pose, but I'll babble about D&D 24/7 if I have the chance.  No motive needed.

Thanks for writing!

The Notorious D


----------



## WizarDru

Destan said:
			
		

> * Still have a ways to go, I s'pose, but I'll babble about D&D 24/7 if I have the chance.  No motive needed. *




Ain't that the truth. 

The decision was a mutual one, after some discussion.  No one wants to lay their characters down, and I have still have some stories to tell, yet.  It wasn't an easy decision, at the end.  In the beginning, when the ELH came out, I considered it a simple matter....but a year later, with many session of high-level play under my belt, I had some doubts.  

In some ways, the ELH is very, well, *NON*-Epic.  In other ways, it's very much the opposite.  It's rather fun to throw things like a Mithral Golem or Winterwight at the party, but at the same time, finding reasonable challenges within the context of the campaign can be quite challenging.  The cumulative power of the party is massive, and we'll be adapting some of the ELH rules changes (particularly to saves, and the like).

As it is, the timing was _just right_ for the arrival of 3.5.  It dovetails with some major campaign changes, and 3.5's changes will just seem part of the 'new order'.  Astute readers may have already guessed part of the catastrophe that's occured, as the foundation was laid months ago, when I first determined that Epic would be viable.  One of the things that this means is that we'll be going back to fewer combats, but more meaningful ones.  While I've laid reasons for lots of powerful foes to be around, I don't want to stretch verisimilitude to the breaking point.

Ultimately, I still see an end-point for the game; it just slid away from us as we approached it (in the manner of approaching the speed of light).  It was always my idea that the ShadowKing would be the ultimate big bad, but that conflicting factions of evil would alternately support or oppose him.  Chavram rose and essentially took the place of Iuz in the game, becoming a much better, more personal threat to the party.  He also works better in that he has motives the party can follow and fathom, if not necessarily appreciate.

Of course, now we hit that "I could talk about this all day" threshold.  I don't really think you're here to hear me babble about campaign design all day. 

Short answer is this: Dravot said to me the other day, at the close of the game, "You know, if I didn't turn 21st, and stayed 20th for the rest of the game...I really wouldn't mind that much."  I take that as a big compliment.  Consider that epic or not, the game can continue.  A carrot can still be provided, possibly in the form of occasional "swap-outs" of skill points or feats...such that the PC never technically advances, but refines.

And there I go again.  Hope that helps.


----------



## Zad

*Liar Liar Pants on Fire*

As promised, (ok it's late) here's the *Great Big List o'Liars*

I went back through the story hours and looked at any NPC with which we had significant interaction and looked for which ones lied to us and which ones didn't. Note that key word "significant". If there was no deep conversation, then they really couldn't have lied to us. In some cases I have to make assumptions about what the NPC knew, and therefore if they lied.


*The Sunless Citadel*
Lord Gelban - lied his pants off from day one.
Hercrule and the Mayor - lied about the fruit
Meepo - lied like the day is long
Kobold Queen - lied
Goblin shaman - probably lied about something, but can't be sure. Questionably "significant"
Bellaq - no real conversation

*A Well Earned Rest*
Drawmij - didn't really say anything
Ariadne - lied by omission
Mordenkainen - didn't really say much
Olidamarra - lied - duh
Ralishaz - lied I bet

*The Forge of Fury*
Aran'gel - what a dirty liar
Duregar Leader - lied and got busted
Succubus - lied - said Scorch was sexy
Nasir - lied and a doody head besides

*A Family Affair*
Marcus - lied - not even his real name
The Silverring - lied. Dragons seem to have a mutal aversion pact with the truth.
Weasely clerk - liar, and a poor one
Bellamy - had been lying for years
Sebastian - lied
Euphamis - lied but just a little
Roget a.k.a. Bubba the Bebblith a.k.a. the Black Archer - what do you think?
Chavram - lied
The Brazen - very likely lied by omission
Hammer and Tongs - likely lied by omission but maybe not.

*Flight of Arrows*
Nobody really

*Heart of Nightfang Spire*
Silent Brother - probably lied about something
Zera/Zara - lied

*Divine Wrath*
Queen of Celene - oh sure
Haldrin - lied
The Owl....

And here we have it ladies and gentlemen. The first instance of an NPC who I don't think ever lied to us. It took many chapters and a year or two worth of adventuring to find one honest gnome.

The Egg of Coot -lied
Priest of Wee Jas - lied surely
Fraz - hell yeah
Ravenna - lied

*The Grand Tour*
Ralishaz's avatars - probably lied about somthing
Sumez ben Taal - the liairest liar that ever lied a lie
Mortimer Fuvex-vex-vex - almost as big a liar as Sumez
Ember - probably lied - sisters do
Bugbear shaman - lied

*The Green and the Black*
nobody really

*Shadow of Winter*
nobody

*The Durance Vile*
nobody really

*The Crypt of the Shadow Taker*
The Dreamer Prime - probably about something
The ShadowTaker - ever since day one


So in about three or four years worth of adventure we have one NPC who was truthful. What a world


----------



## Zad

Just an update for those interested. The details with the epic and 3.5 conversion are settling down and we will be resuming play shortly - probably the weekend after Labor Day due to Shorecon.

Meanwhile, we promised stat blocks, so let's do that. I think Kayleigh's is finally just about settled.

Unfortunately I'm not sure how to do a table, so you'll have to live with this.

*Kayleigh Drake* 
Female medium humanoid (Elf) 
Ftr 4/Sor 4/Arcane Archer 11/Eldritch Knight 2 

*Hit Dice:* 21(188 hp)
*Initiative:* +15
*Speed: *30 ft. (6 squares), fly 60 ft.(12 squares)
*Armor Class:* 38 (+11 dex, +8 bracers of armor, + natural armor, +3 ring of protection, +4 earring of shield), touch 36, flat-footed 27
*Base Atk/Grapple:* +19/+24
*Attack: *Bow: Dawnfire +38 (1d8 + 13/x3)
*Full Attack:* Dawnfire +38/+38/+33/+28/+23 (1d8 + 13/x3)
*Space/Reach:* 5ft./5ft.
*Special Attacks:* Spells
*Special Qualities: *Elven traits
*Saves: *Fort +26 Reflex +27 Will +18
*Abilities:* Str 20, Dex 32, Con 18 Int 16, Wis 12, Cha 16
*Skills: *Climb +11, Concentration +11, Craft - Bowmaking +30, Diplomacy +7, Hide +36, Knowledge, Arcana +7, Listen +36, Move Silently +37, Ride +18, Spellcraft +17, Spot +36, Tumble +14
*Feats:* Point Blank Shot, Precise Shot, Weapon Focus: Longbow, Weapon Specialization: Longbow, Rapid shot, Improved Rapid Shot, Improved Initiative, Iron will, Manyshot, Great Fortitude, Improved Precise Shot, Holy Strike
*Treasure:* Dawnfire (+1 keen fiery blast mighty composite longbow, mighty bonus adjusts to wielder, wall of fire 1x/day 7th level caster, summon greater fire elemental per summon monster VIII 1/week 15th level caster), Special Quiver of Ehlonna (creates endless normal arrows), 300 cold iron arrows, 200 silver arrows, 20 adamantite arrows, visual/audible signal arrows, 50 feet elven rope, masterwork bowmakers tools, Hewards handy haversack, journal, masterowrk harp, assorted flasks and bottles, wide assortment of clothing, belt of resistance +5, bracers of armor +8, rod of lesser extend spell, amulet of natural armor +2, ring of protection +3, gauntlets Dex+6/Str+6/Con+2, earring of See invisible/+5 spot/+5 listen, vest of Entropic Shield, ring of chameleon power, earring of shield, ioun stone +2 cha, ioun stone: pale green prism, luckstone, boots of flight (use activated fly spell), 2 potions of heroism, potion of blur, 3 potions of cure serious wounds, 3 potions of cure light wounds, wand of mage armor (20 charges), wand of magic missile (25 charges, 7th level), wand of fireball (25 charges, 6th level), wand of silence (20 charges), wand of mirror image (20 charges), wand of blink (20 charges)
*Alignment:* Chaotic Good
*Spells Known:* 0 Level: Light, Dancing Lights, Ghost Sound, Mending, Open/Close, Detect Magic, Prestidigitation, Read Magic. 1st level: Obscuring Mist, True Strike, Charm Person, Silent Image, Aran'gel's Edge. 2nd Level: Glitterdust, Blur, Mirror Image, Darkvision. 3rd level: Protection from Energy, Fly, Haste. 4th level: Elemental Infusion, Dimension Door 
*Languages:* Common, Elven, Draconic, Sylvan, Orcish, Ignan
*Notes:* 1. This is a modified version of the Arcane Archer, wherein Wizardru removed many of the special abilities and added a few levels of +caster level. 2. Yes, the epic feat is holy strike. While smite evil is a requirement for this feat, Wizardru waived that requirement for campaign reasons. 3. Kayleigh will be creating a new bow shortly, based on 3.5 and epic changes. Dawnfire is a _+1 keen fiery blast mighty composite longbow_ The strength bonus will adjust to the wielder, and additionally it can do wall of fire 1x/day and summon an elder fire elemental 1x/week. This weapon has not yet been made by Kayleigh nor has it been approved by Wizardru but it will probably be dealt with as soon as the game resumes.

*Combat:* Kayleigh is a hard hitting ranged combatant. She will use defensive spells early as the situation warrants (mirror image, protection from energy) and then move closer, remaining airborne to avoid ground combatants. She will direct her fire as needed, usually focusing on the most serious threats or supporting party members who are in melee. For foes with exceptionally high AC, she will use manyshot, coupling with true strike if needed. She carries a variety of arrows to bypass DR.

*Personal Information: *Kayleigh is the eldest of two daughters of a minor noble and Knight of Luna in Celene. She was only 82 when the Hateful Wars erupted and she (and many of her fellow elves) took up the bow to defend the elven nation even though she was not yet of age for such things. While she was not deep in the thick of the war, she did see enough of it to color her attitudes towards the evil races and orcs in particular.

Her father is at odds with Celene’s isolationist policies. When a recent political storm erupted, he requested she depart for a time to let things settle out. He hoped this would also relieve some of the restlessness he had observed in her recently. He arranged for her to work with Lord Gelban in Greyhawk on unknown terms.

Since that time, a great deal has happened. With the rest of the group, she has died, faced down dragons and demons and creatures even more powerful. She has gone from a daunted girl swept up in events beyond her understanding to a confident figure with both the ability and the will to change the world around her. With the demise of the ShadowTaker, she has come to to finally accept that she and her companions are a force in the world that can do great deeds, and those things need doing.


----------



## Scorch

*Scorch's Stat Block*

Scorch
Male medium humanoid (Human)
Wizard 10/Mage of the Arcane Order 10/Arch Mage 1

Hit Dice: 21(160 hp)
Initiative: +3
Speed: 30 ft. (6 squares)
Armor Class: 21 (+3 dex, +4 mage armor, +4 ring of protection)
Base Atk/Grapple: +10/+5
Attack: None
Full Attack: None
Space/Reach: 5ft./5ft.
Special Attacks: Spells
Special Qualities: Arch Mage High Arcana
Saves: Fort +16 Reflex +16 Will +29
Abilities: Str 10, Dex 17, Con 21 Int 30, Wis 13, Cha 8
Skills: Appraise +23, Bluff +3, Concentration +30, Craft Alchemy +23, Diplomacy +3, Heal +6, Intimidate +5, Knowledge Arcana +35, Knowlege Planes, +28, Listen +8, Move Silently +13, Profession Scribe +4, Ride +6, Search +13, Spell Craft, +38, Spot +8
Feats: Skill Focus(Spellcraft), Spell Focus(Enchantment, Evocation), Spell Penetration, Craft Magic Arms and Armor, Craft Wondrous Item, Empower Spell, Extend Spell, Maximize Spell, Greater Spell Penetration, Cooperative Spell, Energy Substitution (Sonic), Improved Spell Capacity, High Arcana:  Mastery of Shaping
Treasure: Belt of Health (Con +4), Ring of Protection +4,Ring of Wizardry Type 1, Bracers of Resistance +5, Cloak of Intellect +6, Boots of Elvenkind, Boccob's Blessed Book, Leomund's Secret Chest, Wand of Mirror Image (5 Charges), Staff of Frost (15), Rod of Greater Silence, Necklace of Adaptation, Crystal Ball, Pale Green Ioun Stone

Alignment: Chaotic Good
Spells Known: Lots and lots

Personal Information: Scorch has a sister called Ember.  That's all you need to know.


----------



## Zad

> Personal Information: Scorch has a sister called Ember. That's all you need to know.




Too funny   

But I can't resist....

*Combat:* Scorch is the arcane backbone of the party. While he personally enjoys dealing out both focused and widespread arcane destruction, his spell choices are not overly specialized. In fact, he tends to have a good variety of prepared spells, ready for almost any occasion. (How he always has the right thing up his sleeve amazes me to this day.)

*Personal Information:* Scorch has revealed almost nothing in the way of personal information to even his closest associates. He does indeed have a sister who is currently apprenticed to The Owl in the Land of Black Ice. Scorch is the youngest son and hence there were nearly no expectations of him. And that's about all we know.

A powerful arcane caster however would have heard of Scorch, who, due to a series of "regretable accidents" is now the head of the Grey Guild - the main guild of magecraft centered in Greyhawk. Scorch had no aspirations to this role, and would prefer the guild went on doing its business as usual, but given the collapse of the guild that accompanied the death of the ShadowTaker, Scorch seems to be ready to make a serious attempt to restore the guild.

As a personality, he is a curmudgeonly, grumpy, reclusive, power-hungry wizard.  Certainly that is what he's always strived to be. However he does have a underlying tendency to do the right thing, a fact which I believe has surprised even him. Given different associates, this might have been suppressed, however the influence of the rest of the group has caused that kernel of goodness to grow within Scorch. Granted, it's not like he feeds the homeless or helps elder basilisks across the street, but he will work for the greater good with slightly less complaining than you might expect. This may be in part due to the fact that while he complains of the constant interruptions to his work, the adventures have opened the door to riches, magical treasures, and knowledge he would otherwise not have encountered.

He does however have a long memory for enemies.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*There's a place for me...*

Bolo Brandybuck
 	Elf, 19th level Druid/ 1st Level Divine Agent of Ehlonna
 	Medium Humanoid (Elf)
*Hit Dice:*	20d8+20 (140 hp/ 160 with belt.)
*Initiative:*	+2
*Speed:*	30 ft. (6 squares)
*Armor Class:*	29 (+2 Dex, +5 Dragonhide Breastplate, +2 heavy shield, +3 ring, +2 natural armor), touch 15, flat-footed 27
*Base Attack:*	+14/+9/+4
*Attack:	MW Scimitar +1 melee (1d6/18–20/x2) or MW Comp. Longbow +3 ranged (1d8/x3)
Space/Reach:	5 ft./5 ft.
Special Attacks:	Magic, Wildshapes
Special Qualities:	Elven traits, Druid Abilities: Animal companion, Nature sense, Wild Empathy, Woodland Stride, Trackless step, Resist Nature’s Lure, Wildshapes [Tiny to huge, plants], Venom Immunity, 1000 faces, Timeless Body. Bolo has access to the Good Domain through his Divine Agent class level, Casts “Good” Spells at +1 level.
Saves:	Fort +15, Ref +11, Will +21 (23)*
Abilities:	Str 11 (13), Dex 15, Con 12 (14), Int 16, Wis 25 (29), Cha 15
Skills:	Knowledge Nature +30, Listen +18 (20), Search +5, Spot +15 (17), Diplomacy +6, Sense Motive +13 (15), Concentration +9 (+10), Craft Wicker +5, Handle Animal +21 (23), Knowledge Planes +7, Knowledge Psionics +4, Move silently +2, Ride Dog +8, Spellcraft +21, Swim +1 (+2), Survival +35 (37), Knowledge Fae +15, Knowledge Folklore +8, Perform Storytelling +7
Feats:	Leadership, Evolve, Track, Plant Control, Fast Wildshape, Nature Spell, Extra Wildshape (Animal 7/Elemental 3)
Environment:	The Grove in the Land of Black Ice
Alignment:	Neutral Good

Appearance: Bolo’s basic look is that of a slightly smaller than average elf. He has copper red hair and green eyes. He has tufts of fur on the tops of his feet like a Halfling does. He has a tattoo of a tree on his chest and various tribal style tattoos along his body. Due to Bolo’s 1000 faces ability he can change his appearance at will and does so often. He typically dresses in a mix of Halfling and Elvish styles.


Languages: Common, Elf, Sylvan, Druidic, Giant, Terran, Auran, Aquan, Ignan, & Blue Bugbear.

Equipment of note:
+5 Green Dragonhide Breastplate (Wild ability)
Coat of Resistance +3
Glove of storing Right hand (Master work Scimitar)
Glove of Storing Left Hand (Master work heavy Darkwood Shield)
Bulette Belt: +2 Natural Armor, +2 STR, +2 CON
Circlet of Speech: Speak with Animals, Comprehend Languages and Read Magic
Ring of Feather Fall
+3 Ring of Protection
Horn of Fog
Heward’s Handy Haversack
Periapt of Wisdom +4
Ioun Stone (absorbs spells of 4th level or lower Max 20 spell levels)
Tome of Understanding +1 (Used)
Quiver of Ehlonna
Masterwork Composite Long Bow
Bracers of Mighty Fists +2


Combat: 
Bolo employs a style of combat based on his ability to Wildshape. He tries to stay in an elemental for at all times now (typicaly Air) and uses spells that will compliment the rest of the party. Bolo is dareing to a fault and has gotten himself into some dire straights due to his bravery. Most recently he was killed by the Shadow-Taker for being the one to breach it's defences first. Bolo is very rairly in his Elven form now a days having "given up the lie" of having a race any longer. Bolo tends to think defensively. He will cast Dispel Magic or Greater Dispel Magic at the largest opponent before they can get an attack off if he can. From there he will switch into an elemental form and combine his combat abilities with his spell casting. 

Background: 
Bolo Brandybuck was the only son or Rose "wild rose" and Danforth Brandybuck. He is the second eldest child , His twin sister Bala being born only minutes before Bolo. He has 2 younger sisters and a cousin named Tickleberry who is his closest relative. Things are a bit straigned now since Bolo's rebirth. 
Bolo has died 2 times in his travels with the Meepites and has been reincarnated twice as a Wood Elf. He sees this as a gift from his goddess Ehlonna but he also feels he needs to stake his own way in the world. His latest "body" has a strong vein of Fae blood in it and he will start the transformation to a fully Fae form as soon as he has the time.


Personality: 
Bolo is the eternal optomist. He see the good in all people and things and is very attached to Scorch. Bolo finds it a rare thing to find someone as interested in the Planes and the cosmology of the worlds as Bolo and Scorch are. 

Bolo is openly gay. He has not made an issue of it but his friends were stunned recently to find that Bolo has a son named Geo who lives with his mother.*


----------



## WizarDru

Meet:  The Bargainers!

What was the Bargain, and how was it kept?  Perhaps the Meepites will learn sooner than they wish.


*Bargainer 1, Skulk*; Greater barghest Rog12: CR 17; ECL 21; Size L; HD 21; hp 154; Init +6; Spd 60 ft (base 30 ft), or 60 ft.; AC 23, touch 14, FF 18; BAB +12/+7/+2; Atk: +21/+16/+11 melee (1d8 + 5, Bite), +16/+16 melee (1d6 + 3, Claws); SA Spell-like abilities, feed; SQ Damage reduction 15/+1, scent, alternate form; AL LE; SV Fort +15, Ref +19, Will +15; Str 20, Dex 18, Con 20, Int 26, Wis 21, Cha 19.
Skills and Feats: Balance +19, Bluff +19, Climb +20, Concentration +17, Craft (Trapmaking) +21, Decipher Script +23, Diplomacy +19, Gather Information +19, Heal +12.5, Hide +19, Sleight of Hand +19, Intimidate +19, Survival +20, Jump +20, Knowledge (Arcana) +15.5, Listen +17, Sense Motive +17, Spellcraft +15.5, Spot +20, Swim +20, Tumble +19, Use Magic Device +19, Use Rope +19; Armor Proficiency (Light), Combat Casting, Combat Reflexes, Dodge, Improved Initiative, Improved Unarmed Strike, Mobility, Spring Attack, Stunning Fist, Damage Reduction, Scent, Sneak Attack, Uncanny Dodge, Evasion, Slippery Mind.

*Bargainer 2, Shrike*; Greater barghest PsiEgo12: CR 17; ECL 21; Size L; HD 21; hp 153; Init +2; Spd 60 ft (base 30 ft), or 60 ft.; AC 14, touch 5, FF 13; BAB +9/+4; Atk: +16/+11 melee (1d8 + 7, Bite), +11/+11 melee (1d6 + 5, Claws); SA Spell-like abilities, feed; SQ Damage reduction 15/+1, scent, alternate form; AL LE; SV Fort +15, Ref +11, Will +21; Str 24, Dex 0, Con 20, Int 24, Wis 24, Cha 18.
Skills and Feats: Appraise +14.5, Bluff +16, Concentration +20, Diplomacy +11.5, Heal +11.5, Hide +23, Intimidate +18, Jump +22, Listen +19, Search +14.5, Sense Motive +19, Spellcraft +14.5, Spot +19, Swim +22, Autohypnosis +22, Knowledge (Psionics) +22, Psicraft +22, Stabilize Self +20, Use Psionic Device +11.5; Combat Casting, Combat Reflexes, Improved Initiative, Damage Reduction, Scent, Extend Power, Inertial Armor, Mental Leap, Persistent Power, Speed of Thought.
Power Points: 103.
Powers Known: _Biofeedback, Bite of the Tiger, Bite of the Wolf, Body Adjustment, Body Equilibrium, Breath of the Dragon, Chameleon, Claws of the Bear, Compression, Iron Body, Lesser Natural Armor, Metamorphosis, Natural Armor, Painful Touch, Psychofeedback, Rejuvenation, Shadow Body, Shapechange, Suspend Life, Sustenance, Talons, Vigor._

*Bargainer 3 Stand*; Greater barghest Ftr2/Def10: CR 17; ECL 21; Size L; HD 21; hp 197; Init +7; Spd 40 ft (base 30 ft), or 60 ft.; AC 36, touch 15, FF 30; BAB +18/+13/+8/+3; Atk: +25/+20/+15/+10 melee (1d8 + 3, Bite), +20/+20 melee (1d6 + 1, Claws); SA Spell-like abilities, feed; SQ Damage reduction 15/+1, scent, alternate form; AL ; SV Fort +25, Ref +18, Will +27; Str 16, Dex 18, Con 20, Int 16, Wis 24, Cha 21.
Skills and Feats: Balance +4, Bluff +17, Climb +3, Concentration +17, Diplomacy +11, Escape Artist +4, Hide +7, Sleight of Hand +1.5, Intimidate +19, Jump +10, Listen +22, Pick Pocket +1, Scry +13, Search +10.5, Sense Motive +22, Spellcraft +13, Spot +22, Tumble +4, Use Rope +9, Wilderness Lore +12; Armor Proficiency (Heavy), Armor Proficiency (Light), Armor Proficiency (Medium), Blind-Fight, Combat Casting, Combat Reflexes, Dodge, Endurance, Terrain Mastery Plains, Improved Initiative, Iron Will, Martial Weapon Proficiency, Quick Draw, Shield Proficiency, Simple Weapon Proficiency, Toughness, Damage Reduction, Scent, Defensive Stance, Defensive Awareness.
Possessions: Full plate +4, Longsword +3.

*Bargainer 4 Slink*; Greater barghest Rog6/Sha7: CR 18; ECL 22; Size L; HD 22; hp 118; Init +8; Spd 60 ft (base 30 ft), or 60 ft.; AC 25, touch 16, FF 18; BAB +12/+7/+2; Atk: +19/+14/+9 melee (1d8 + 3, Bite), +14/+14 melee (1d6 + 1, Claws); SA Spell-like abilities, feed; SQ Damage reduction 15/+1, scent, alternate form; AL LE; SV Fort +11, Ref +23, Will +17; Str 16, Dex 22, Con 13, Int 15, Wis 24, Cha 21.
Skills and Feats: Balance +15, Bluff +17, Concentration +13, Decipher Script +18, Escape Artist +22, Hide +22, Sleight of Hand +15, Intimidate +19, Jump +15, Listen +19, Move Silently +22, Perform +14, Pick Pocket +15, Read Lips +11, Search +18, Sense Motive +19, Spot +23, Tumble +22, Use Magic Device +14; Planar Cohort, Armor Proficiency (Light), Combat Casting, Combat Reflexes, Dodge, Improved Initiative, Mobility, Spring Attack, Two-Weapon Fighting, Damage Reduction, Scent, Sneak Attack, Evasion, Uncanny Dodge, Hide in Plain Sight, Evasion, Darkvision, Uncanny Dodge, Shadow Illusion, Summon Shadow, Shadow Jump, Defensive Roll, Slippery Mind.

Bargainers 5 &6 were never developed as they were supposed to be, and ended up being variants of the folks above.  What can I say?  Sometimes I get lazy.


----------



## dravot

*Dravot's Stat Block*

Dravot d’Chandagnac 
Male medium human  
Cleric 7/Shadowed of Pelor 6/Radiant Servant of Pelor 7/Divine Agent of Pelor 1 (see Note for info on Shadowed of Pelor; Radiant Servant of Pelor is from Dragon Magazine; and Divine Agent is from MotP)

Hit Dice: 21d8 (214 hp)
Initiative: +1
Speed: 30 ft. (6 squares)
Armor Class: 31 (+1 dex, +5 breastplate, +3 natural armor, +6 deflection vs. evil, +1 insight bonus), touch 18, flat-footed 30
Base Atk/Grapple: +14/+17
Attack: Kardran’s Mace, +4 Brilliant Energy Heavy Mace (Cold Iron)  +23 (1d8 + 7/x2)
Full Attack: Kardran’s Mace, +4 Brilliant Energy Heavy Mace (Cold Iron)  +23/+18/+13 (1d8 + 7/x2)
Space/Reach: 5ft./5ft.
Special Attacks: Turn undead 15x/day, greater turning 14x/day, Smite undead, Positive Energy Burst (13d6 dmg to undead 100’ radius, DC will 23 for half), 
Special Qualities: All light/daylight spells cast as if one spell level higher, +2 morale bonus to will saves in a 10’ radius, charisma bonus to saves, +2 glory bonus to turning undead; immune to drains from undead; Domain healing spells are all maximized; 
Saves: Fort +36 Reflex +23 Will +44
Abilities: Str 16, Dex 12, Con 20, Int 12, Wis 28, Cha 16
Skills: Concentration +31, Diplomacy +33, Gather Information +21, Heal +17, Hide +0, Knowledge Arcana +6, Knowledge Religion +27, Move Silently +11, Ride +6, Profession Law: +14
Feats: Eschew Materials, Extra Turning, Weapon Focus Heavy Mace, Leadership, Craft Wondrous Item, Quicken Turning, Combat Casting, Spell Penetration, Planar Turning

Treasure: Light of Reason (Artifact): holder affected by empowered holy aura (+6 deflection to AC, +6 to saves, SR 37, evil attackers blinded fort save DC 24), 30’ radius holy aura effect for allies (no blinding effect), 30-60’ radius bless effect, 30’ radius daylight effect; Kardran’s Mace: +4 brilliant energy heavy mace (cold iron), +1 Mace of undead bane (adamantite), Breastplate of Command +2, Steel Shield +3, Cloak of Resistance +5, Gloves of Str +4, Belt of Con +4, Periapt of Wisdom +6, Bracers of Natural Armor +3, Ring of Major Fire Resistance, Ring of Invisibility, Luckstone, Dusty Rose Ioun Stone, Pale Green Ioun Stone, Stone of Sending (Sending spell 2x/day), Chalice of Belline: (Command word activated, add a potable drink, drink cannot be saved), Cure light wounds 3x/day, Cure Moderate Wounds 3x/day, Cure Serious Wounds 3x/day, Remove Curse 1x/day (Remove curse requires holy water); Vestments of Consecration (Permanent Consecrate spell, 20’ radius); Helm of Teleportation 3x/day; Spiffy boots of Speed: Haste 10 rds/day, Freedom of Movement 10 rds/day; Light of Brindinford (Prayer Beads and Holy Symbols): +4 to turn level, empowered turning at will, bless 1x/day, 2 beads of Karma (+4 caster level for 10 min); Rod of Blessed Rest: +3 CHA competence bonus to turn checks, 3x/day summon food, healing circle, mordenkainen’s faithful hound; Rod of Splendor: +4 CHA bonus; Broom of Flying; Hewards Haversack; Wands: Bless (50 charges), Remove Fear (42), Cure Light Wounds (35), Cure Moderate Wounds (36), Tongues (42); Scrolls: Tongues, Freedom of Movement, Negative Energy Protection (x2), Cure Serious Wounds, Consecrate (x2), Lesser Restoration (x3), Briar Web, Magic Circle vs. Evil, Water Walk, Water Breathing, Remove Curse, Hold Person (x2), Delay Poison (x2), Remove Fear (x4), Cure Moderate Wounds, Cure Light Wounds.

Alignment: Neutral Good
Domains: Healing (+1 caster level to heal spells), Sun (1 greater turning/day), Mysticism (+CHA bonus to saves) (DotF), Glory (+2 to turns, +1d6 turn dmg) (DotF)
Languages: Common, Draconic, Old Aerdi, Celestial

Note: Shadowed of Pelor is a modified/home brewed variant of Hunter of the Dead.  It features ¾ BAB, Strong Will, Strong Fort, Weak Reflex, and gains caster levels every other level.  Special abilities: +1 greater turning and detect undead at will, 1st level; smite undead, 2nd level; Spurn Death’s Touch (add wis bonus to saves vs. undead), 3rd level; Critical Rebuke: make undead vulnerable to critical hits wis bonus times/day, will save 25 (10+shadowed level+wis bonus), 4th level; +1 greater turning, Sealed live (can’t be drained by undead), 5th level; Positive Energy Burst (in lieu of 2 turnings do level d6 dmg to all undead in 100’ radius, DC 10+shadowed level, 6th level.  Other abilities 7th-10th level, but Dravot will probably won’t take more levels in that prestige class.

Combat: Dravot will turn undead, cast spells or wade into melee with one of his maces, as the situation calls for.  Spell usage will range from area spells to save-or-die spells to buffs and debuffs.  He has just figured out how to turn evil outsiders and it itching to try it out.

Personal Information:  At great personal risk, I’ll let Zad fill in the personal information.  Things are kinda hectic for me, no time to sit down and write it up properly.  I’m amazed I got the stat block done.


----------



## Zad

oh goody....

*Personal Information:* As little is known about Scorch, the opposite is true for Dravot. Much of his personal life and family affairs have been exposed in the course of the group's adventures. 

Dravot is one four sons of the d’Chandagnac family, a minor noble house in the Great Kingdom that rules over the town of Brindinford and the surrounding area. As one of the younger sons, Dravot entered the service of Pelor. He was later recruited into Lord Gelban's service. During the past few years, he has learned that his grandfather Chavram was made an animus created by Ivid. Chavram was not killed but imprisoned in the family crypts for many years, and recently broke free. After doing so, he collected at least three of the Binders - major artifacts of arcane power, and assembled an army. In theory this is to challenge Iuz but Dravot suspects deeper motives than that. 

Dravot's family consists of two sisters, one of whom (Thora) handles the day-to-day business of the family estates. One of his brothers was killed some years ago, and the eldest brother was turned into an animus by Chavram along with his father. His last brother, Gerrin, is something of a shady character and seems to move in the shadows, but for good purposes. Dravot is younger than Gerrin but Dravot has been acting as head of the family for nearly the last year. Next Firemeet festival, a true heir and successor will be selected. As part of this, he has the services of Thorkeld, the Lion of Brindinford, a paladin of Pelor who acts as his personal protector and liege-man.

Dravot has achieved a great deal of renown within the Church, acting as Pelor's holy servant in destroying the Egg of Coot and freeing the people in the Land of Black Ice, a vision which was shared among all the clergy. Dravot is frequently refered to as "The Living Saint" within the church, a title which he quietly discourages. There can be no doubt however that Pelor is pleased with his works, despite his fixation with the destruction of the undead that came as a result of learning his family history. While that episode caused Dravot a good deal of anguish, he has since found his center, and is now a pious and faithful leader in the church. 

In temporal politics, there is more uncertainty, with world events moving at a rapid pace and a good portion of the Great Kingdom decimated by dragons. There has been some stirrings about an appropriate marriage for political gain, and some offers from very disreputable sources. However the Lady Zera, a paladin of Pelor, came into his company of late, and is now freed from her family curse. She may decide to pursue something more than a spiritual relationship now that the curse has been broken.

Dravot radiates a calm and strength that comes from a natural leader and a man confident in his faith. He has seen doubt and despair and conquered them, and is stronger for it.


----------



## Zad

I like story. I also like mechanics. I'm happy to discuss either 



> What is the effect and cost of the Earring of Shield?




I had this made a while ago. First level spells/items were a great bargain under 3.0. (Same thing applies to vest of entropic shield, a gift from Dravot.) 

It's _Shield_ that is use activated, and slotless so it doesn't take up any magic item space. It's so cheap that it's not a big deal to make it slotless. Total cost under 3.0 was 2,000 gp * 1 (spell level) * 1 (caster level) * 2 (slotless) = 4,000gp. Saved me casting it all the time but I had to watch my facing.

Under 3.5, it's different. There's no facing, but the bonus is lower. (Reasonably so I would say.) Cost is higher due to the 1min/level duration but it's grandfathered.

Realize that with the 3.5 conversion, I've changed out several of my sorceress spells known, so you might see inconsistencies for that reason.



> Feedback from a campaign that has already incorporated such magic would undoubtedly be useful.




I found it handy, cheap, unobtrusive, and it works just fine. Magic missile immunity was nice during the goblin ambush too. Given the changes in 3.5, decreasing the benefit and raising the cost, it's even more balanced and should be fine. If you can have bracers of armor, which is just full time _Mage Armor_, then doing the same to _Shield_ should be fine.


----------



## WizarDru

Those so interested can find the new Rogues Gallery thread right here.   I'll be posting monster stat-blocks here, and any NPCs I feel so inclined to put there, as time and effort allows.  Discussion is welcome, if so desired.


----------



## Tantra

*Aethramyr's Stat block.*

Aethramyr; Elf Pal20: CR 20; ECL 20; Size M; HD 20; hp 189; Init +1; Spd 20 ft (base 30 ft); AC 27, touch 15, FF 26; BAB +20/+15/+10/+5; Atk: +28/+23/+18/+13 melee (1d3 + 8, Unarmed), +33/+28/+23/+18 melee (2d6 + 17/crit 17-20, Shatterspike, GrSwd +5 (Bane, Holy, Keen)); SQ Low-light Vision, +2 to saves vs enchantment, immune to sleep effects; AL LG; SV Fort +20, Ref +13, Will +13; Str 26, Dex 14, Con 16, Int 13, Wis 15, Cha 21.
Languages spoken: Common and Elven
Skills and Feats: Balance -1, Climb +5, Concentration +6, Craft (Weaponsmith) +15, Diplomacy +10, Handle Animal +8, Heal +7, Jump +10, Knowledge (Religion) +5, Lucid Dreaming +14, Ride +15, Spot +6; Armor Proficiency (Heavy), Armor Proficiency (Light), Armor Proficiency (Medium), Blind-Fight, Cleave, Great Cleave, Improved Critical, Martial Weapon Proficiency, Mounted Combat, Power Attack, Shield Proficiency, Simple Weapon Proficiency, Low-light Vision, Detect Evil, Divine Grace, Lay on Hands, Divine Health, Aura of Courage, Smite Evil, Remove Disease, Turn Undead, Special Mount, Combat Expertise, Aura of Good.
Possessions: Aethramyr's plate armor (adamantine), Grswd +5 shatterspike (bane  holy  keen), , Bedroll, Winter blanket, Fishhook, Hooded lantern, Oil (1-pt. flask), Parchment (sheet), Silk rope (50 ft.), Signet ring, Tent, Whetstone, Fine wine (bottle), 3 Trail rations (per day), Bracer of flight, Amulet of natural armor +2, Heward's handy haversack, Boots of striding and springing, Ioun stone (pink and green), Ioun stone (pink), Ring of protection +4, Major ring of energy resistance (fire), Gloves of dexterity +4, Belt of giant strength +6, Major cloak of displacement.


----------



## Zad

*ShatterSpike*
+5 Holy Avenger, Keen, Bane: Evil Outsiders

Special Abilities:
"Imbue" the weapon: Spend a turning Check to add Charisma bonus to Hit and Damage. (Normal rules applying here; weapon cannot go above +5) For a number of rounds equal to the max hitdice effected by the turning check (which at this point cant be lower than something like 14 rounds, so generally a non-issue)

Spend a turning Check To have it cast _Bless_ or _Cure Serious Wounds_.

ShatterSpike is normally a LongSword. Because of the character concept for Aethramyr, A greatsword works better. Wizardru allowed it so that spending a turning check will make the longsword a greatsword for Hours X Level, so it's pretty much a greatsword from now on. 

Shatterspike is one of 9 blades, one for each alignment. The blades are Elven forged, and made out of a Vitasis (sp?) crystal, much like the gems that Valenthe carries. Another blade was (we hope) destroyed at the first Battle at Brindinford. Numbers 3 through 9 are MIA, Presumed hiding in the recessis of the Wizardru-m's Brain. 

Aethramyr as a side project is researching their creation, With the hope of revivng the Art of smithing these blades, most likely to a lesser degree.

(Note: this is the same ShatterSpike that came out of The Sunless Citadel, but Wizardru has a distaste for throw-away named weapons, and he made it so the powers of the weapon would grow as Aethramyr did.)

*Personal Information:*

Much of Aethramyr's personal information has been covered in detail in prior writeups or the adventures themselves. He was the only survivor of an attack that destroyed his entire village when he was an infant. The actual purpose of this attack apparently was for Taen Clearcutt to kill the then-infant Aethramyr but failed. Aethramyr was raised by human monks of Pelor for much of his early life, until Sehanine Moonbow called to her Champion as he became an adult. In exchange for the service of raising and guiding young Aethramyr, Sehanine promised him to Pelor for a "favor" at a later time. This favor was used when Pelor sent Aethramyr, Dravot and the rest of the group north to the Land of Black Ice to throw down the Egg of Coot. Aethramyr is also called "The Sword of Twilight" among the worshippers of Sehanine as a result of his dual divine influences.

Aethramyr is a shining example of a paladin, but he is neither preachy nor righteous. He is a humble, quiet elf who does what he knows to be good, and others respect and follow him because of it. He has been the moral pillar of the group, helping others find their way when they have become lost, and has an uncanny knack for making people feel better and resolving difficult situations. 

*In Combat:* Aethramyr is the group's only front-line tank, and frequently must absorb extreme punishment in fights. However despite this, he is the only member of the party who has not yet died, which irks the DM to no end.


----------



## Zad

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Next game: "_*Shadows Rise and Shadows Fall*_"




Mostly fall.


----------



## Zad

Parsalan hurried. In the last week it seemed Parsalan did a lot of hurrying. But a summons from the Prince didn't need to tell you to hurry - it was implied.

As one of Corellian's priests, Parsalan had seen some fighting before. Orcs, goblins, even the strange plant horrors. But nothing like what happened with the Githyanki came. Parsalan couldn't even recall if he knew of the Githyanki before they came to Celene. (Parsalan knew that they had shown up all over the Flaness attacking everywhere, but as far as he was concerned, the effective world ended at the edge of Celene's forests.)

And so he was sent with the armies again, just as Corellian's priests have always done. This time he was sent with Prince Aran'gel, which created some new difficulties. First, Parsalan never knew what to call him. If you said "Your Highness" or "Prince" he became very agitated but almost anything else was disrespectful. Parsalan hoped that another round of "Sir's" and "The Commander" would get him through the day. And this was the last thought he got out before entering Prince/Lord/General Aran'gel's presence, his few advisors mounted near him towards the front of the line and some Swiftrunners of Ehlonna nearby. Even they looked tired. The news must be bad. The Prince was giving fast efficient orders deploying the troops and finished before he looked to Parsalan.

But oddly, he paused. It was, Parsalan realized, the first time he'd ever seen the returned Prince hesitate about anything. The prince seemed to have to convince himself one more time, muttering "We need help. There's no other way." 

"Sir?" Parsalan asked. 

"Nothing," the prince replied. "I need you to do a _Sending_. Some days ago there was a visitor in camp. I took dinner with him and introduced you - the merchant named Lord Gelban. Do you recall him?"

"Yes sir, I do. You made a point that I should," Parsalan replied cautiously. 

"Quite so, and now I'm glad I did. You will _send_ this message to him and wait for the reply. Tell him: *From Aran'gel - Githyanki attaking near Myrkfaelin, battle is imminent. Cannot hold them back alone. In dire need of aid.*"

Parsalan repeated the words, then cast the spell and stood waiting for the reply. His gaze was distant as he held the trance waiting for the reply which was quite a while in coming. If this perturbed the Prince he did not show it - he was too busy ordering the troops into position. Across the field before them, the Githyanki came, in their improbable vehicles and with their unearthly troops. The trance kept Parsalan from seeing their wicked silver blades, their slavering creatures, and the astral machines of war that were poised to tear out Celene's throat, with only these scant companies to stop them. The trance kept Paraslan from seeing how dire the situation was, and Parsalan did not know the prince well enough to realize how desperate he must be to call upon this source of help so openly. 

Then the reply came through the ether. Parsalan spoke the words as he heard them, as all war priests are trained.

*Engaged in battle near Dyvers. Cannot aid you ourselves, but can send some . . . special help. May they turn the tide for us all. Arriving momentarily.*

Parsalan barely noticed the range of expressions the prince went through as he started speaking, from despair to hope to confusion. As Parsalan finished, the prince shouted.

"Special help?!?!? What the devil does that mean?!?!? And what exactly does he think could help besides ..." and the prince paused having said too much, then finished a different sentence "... besides him and his allies?"

Parsalan did not have time to formulate a respectful way to express his ignorance on the subject before a popping sound filled the air behind him and the Prince. Before they could turn however, a woman's voice cut the air, lilting like bell chimes in the evening spring breeze. Her tone was playful, yet determined, and full of subtle edge.

"Well, we may not be a flight of dragons, but perhaps we can help just the same."

Parsalan saw the prince's eyes start to widen as he heard the words and turned around so fast that the priest thought he'd spin three times before he stopped. But stop he did and his expression grew brighter than Parsalan ever had occasion to behold. 

Curious as to what could cause such a reaciton in a Prince of Celene, Parsalan studied the group that appeared from nowhere. It was quite an assembly to behold.

His eye was first drawn to a tall elf, his white hair framing his head and shoulders and falling over his armor, shining with a deep purple hue. The symbol of Sehanine was beautifully etched across the surface of the breastplate, and Parsalan would have thought him a priest, were it not for the shimmering greatsword he hefted effortlessly, the blade seemingly made of pure sapphire.

Just next to him were a some humans. Two of them flanked the third, the symbols of Pelor splashed across them all. The central one carried a mace in one hand, and a lantern in the other. Rather odd considering the time of day and all, but even more so since he almost glowed with a shine that matched the lantern. Parsalan did not need to be a preist to know this man was favored of his god, as were the two who walked by him.

Parsalan didn't really notice the human woman. Indeed his eyes really slipped past her, lost in the other strange sights before them. He did not notice her black skin, her dark armor, or the jade crystal sword which she carried. And he certainly didn't notice how the shadows seemed deeper around her, and did not always move the way she did.

Instead Parsalan was drawn to a fading glow around another human. He was dressed in fine robes that seemed well traveled in. The man had an eyepatch covering one eye, and the fading glow of potent magic washing away from his hands. He was looking around and nodding approvingly, but seemed to look right through Parsalan so that was surely not the source of his satisfaction. The mage with the patch glanced next to him at a smallish elf with copper hair. The elf was half wearing a shirt and the tatoo of a tree was visible covering most of his chest. (And perhaps other places but Parsalan didn't wander there.) The elf was oddly dressed as if he had confused his wardrobe with some other races. This elf looked around quickly and nodded at the mage, and he too seemed to be looking across the field with something other than his eyes.

"Miss me?" said the voice innocently and Parsalan brought his attention to her. He knew she was an elf even before he saw her. Her full dark hair cascaded off her shoulders and to one side, the other one cleared for reaching her quiver. She was wearing fine but practical clothes, and just then Parsalan noticed the small gemstones circling her head, and those of the others too. She lightly held bow in one hand, of a quality which Parsalan could not know, having never seen it's like before. She took two light steps and was in front of the prince, but she did not curtsie or offer any gesture of respect. 

Had Parsalan been a bit more aware of the social sciences, he would have noticed that she was standing ever so slightly closer than would have seemed appropriate.

It took the Prince Aran'gel a moment to find his words but he finally softly said "You're alive!"

Parsalan looked at the elf lady who had appeared with this strange group, and she cocked her head to the side slightly and sighed.

"Yes, I know. You're the tenth person to tell us that today." And then she slowly smiled a long smile.

Had Parsalan been a bit more aware of the social sciences, he would have found this quite odd indeed.

Instead he just stood quietly as she turned and looked across the field at the massing Githyanki. After a long look across the field she glanced at the prince and spoke again, this time with a tactician's voice.

"Githyanki eh?"

"Mmmm," the prince replied, and nodded.

Suddenly the impish smirk she had been wearing since appeared vanished and was replaced with something much sterner. Something Parsalan was glad he was not facing.

"Then it's time to show them why they should not attack Celene."


Parsalan did not know who these people were. But he was surprised to realize he was suddenly very glad they were here.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*On dieing again.*

Bolo looked at his new body. The Diamond Prince's Diadem is perfect for that activity, everything is reflective. _I'm Smaller, closer to my original hight but still a foot and some to tall. My hair is long and halfling like but still the Elven body. I'm a bit hairyier than any elf. Maybe I'm a Wild Elf this time?_ Bolo rubbed his sore feet. His sore hairy feet. _Some things never change._ There was something different about his tattoos that bothered him. They were all in Faerie style and there were new ones. Plants that had not been there before and the Tree on his chest was more of a Treant now. _Interesting! I wonder what else is new._ He noticed the Whirlwind and firebrand tattoos on his arms and the Wave and Gemstone on his thighs. _I never had Elemental Tattoos before. I wonder what they do?_ He had little time to question more when Scorch entered the room and said "Were going. Are you ready?"
"Sure thing Scorch. I just love Sigil!" Bolo replied shocking the mage. Scorch knew Bolo dreaded the whole idea of the city of doors and had vowed never to return. "Feh" was all the master of magics could think of.


----------



## Zad

*Shadows Rise and Shadows Fall - Chapter 1*

*Shadows Rise and Shadows Fall*

*Chapter 1*

*OOC Notes:*
Exp this week will come via email

*For the Readers:*
This session marks the group’s transition to epic levels, as well as the campaign’s transition to 3.5 rules. Some of the events of the cataclysm mentioned are related to these fundamental changes in the rules/world.

*This Week’s Adventure:*
Well _something_ had happened but we didn’t know what. Maybe it was just caused by our transition from the demi plane, or even the death of the ShadowTaker. Something made Scorch’s crystal shatter. But for the moment however we were away from the crypt and standing in Sceadutine. The question was now how safe it was to be here.

Valanthe said that this was the city of the last free Shadow Prince, and it should be reasonably safe here. I let out a tense breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and relaxed, and the realization came that we had won. We defeated the ShadowTaker and escaped, and suddenly I was in a mood to celebrate. Dravot was worried about Zara and the others that the ShadowTaker had held, and used a _Discern Location_ to find him. The results were disturbing: Zara was, at that moment, on an astral brig controlled by the Githyanki, named The Will of the Queen that was currently in the astral plane. But at the moment, we had no means of traveling from the plane, to the astral, prime, or anywhere else.

While Sceadutine might not be overtly dangerous, Valanthe still thought we would draw a lot of attention and might want to get off the streets. Save for her, we were all sporting more color than anything else here, and Dravot’s “shadow” was made of light, and seemed to stretch off in one direction as if tugged. Valanthe thought we should stop in on the Prince, and lacking any better options we moved through the streets trying to be discreet.

We hadn’t gone a block when two broad-shouldered guards saw us, and took a wary posture. The called out in an unknown language, and didn’t seem inclined to deal with the common tongue. Soon more guards, dressed of a kind, showed up from other alleys and streets, but Valanthe said they were not part of the city watch. Dravot’s wand of _Tongues_ came in handy again but the guards were becoming more on edge as we tried to approach. But before anything could break out, a lilting voice rang out in common – “There is no threat here. Do not exceed your authority.” The voice seemed feminine, but I couldn’t say the same for the creature that came around the corner. Its pearlescent skin glowed with a light, floating off the ground. Its features were sharp and angular, drawn further by its nine foot height. It wore a long robe that was jeweled with varying stones and shot light all around it. The guards that protected the glowing being stood down, but they were muttering between themselves and I picked up pieces “… is that the shadow princess with them? …. and who’s the freak with the light?...” 

The being said “There is no disturbance. The guards are concerned as my presence here is meant to be inconspicuous. We are glad to see you are well.” The creature seemed to have some idea who we were, but how I could not say. It was evasive during introductions, and it was clear that it was here on some clandestine diplomatic mission and could not say too much about who it was or whom it served. It only identified itself as the Crystal Emmisary. 

Of course there was the matter of the shadow princess. It seemed to be a reference to Valanthe but she was quite unware of it. There were some quick words between her and one of her new shadow companions, Littleshade, who was abashed and it seemed she’d meant to mention that to Valanthe. She mentioned something briefly about popular legend rising around Valanthe but that was all we had time for at the moment. But Valanthe made it clear that she would be back to that topic, and soon.

We asked if the Emmisary if it knew where we could find the Shadow Prince, and it was going to the Diadem (the stronghold of the Prince) and would escort us. Even better, we made our way through back streets and quiet alleys. The guards with the Emmisary were very vigilant and ready for any trouble or ambush, but there was none and we soon came into view of the Diadem.

It was not terribly large as fortresses go, but it was notable for its height rather than breadth. It looked like a natural growth of crystal that had been worked into a fortress, which bloomed into seven spiers at the upper reaches. Between the spires were gossamer walkways spun between them. The spires themselves were capped in isometril and large mirrors on brass swivels sat atop the roofs. Oddly there were no guards in evidence. We entered the main hall and the Emmisary departed to tend to his own business, with our thanks.

The main hall had several passageways leading away, but no majordomo or butler to receive guests. We started wandering down one hallway which spiraled up a few stories and then let out back into the main hall. A different hallway got us similar results. 

It then started to dawn on us how the fortress was protected. Instead of roaming, we called out loud, and after a moment a shadowy form manifested and greeted us. Valanthe requested to see the Diamond Prince and we were shown to a waiting area and told he would see us shortly.

The room was quite comfortable and the furniture matched our numbers oddly well. We started sifting through the various things we had taken from the ShadowTaker including his notes. It was clear that it would take quite a while to comb through all his writings but the effort would surely be well worthwhile. We did pick up a few interesting tidbits – Taen Clearcutt was the main influence behind the Gulthias Horrors but Gulthias himself did not know he was serving the ShadowTaker. The worm also worshipped Therizdun very actively and intentionally. He had infiltrated most of the arcane brotherhoods throughtout the Flaness, with the notable exception of the Silent Brotherhood. While he had tried several times, he had no success there.

Shortly a new door suddenly appeared in the wall, and what looked like an honor guard entered. After them came a man, who was in full color and did not seem to waver and phase the way most of the residents here did. He wore full plate made of isometril augmented with diamond vitaesis. He walked in a comfortable way like a man who spent most of his waking hours in armor. 

“Greetings to you all. I am Stevaslite, the Diamond Prince.”

We introduced ourselves but it seemed clear that he already knew who most of us were. We offered our apologies for dropping in on him but we had been caught in the collapse of a demi-plane and this was the only place we could get to at the time. 

“So you were forced out as a result of the cataclysm them?” he asked. A long pause followed as we looked at each other. I slowly asked “What cataclysm? We’ve been tied up in demi-planes for quite some time, perhaps we missed something.”

Bolo added in that the demi-plane collapsed when we defeated the ShadowTaker. I sighed a bit and looked over at him – few people knew who the ShadowTaker was, and those that didn’t had no need of knowing we killed him. We have no idea what other plots the ShadowTaker spun, and I thought we would be better served by not trumpeting our victory too loudly. 

“There was some kind of inter-planar cataclysm yesterday. It has changed many things fundamental to magic, and blocked inter-planar travel completely. Our color pools leading to other planes have been blocked off. We do not know if it will be permanent. I have received some limited communication from various agents but no travel has been possible. There are reports of various creatures, notably arcanists, who have suddenly unleashed incredible powers and usually destroyed themselves in the process. Some divinations have also been blocked and the astral plane is rather treacherous at the moment. It would take a being of considerable power to cause this kind of change.“

We sat in shock for a moment. Scorch was reviewing spells in his head and something seemed different. I started feeling out my own magical valences and knew something was different but I couldn’t quite figure out what.

We thanked him for what he told us, as we were entirely unaware of these happenings. He was glad to help. We share many enemies in common and it was the least he could do for some of the foes we had disposed of. The topic then took us to the subject of the Shadow King. He knew the same thing that we did – that the Shadow King was the shadow of Therizdun. However he was unaware of the way to stop him by resetting the seals that kept Therizdun imprisoned. He was interested to learn of this, but at the same time neutral. However in his mind, I think he started to see the first flicker of hope of some way to deal with this menace that had nearly destroyed his world.

That brought us around to another subject – that of powerful weapons. We had been told that the Diamond Prince was one of the few people who knew the secrets of creating weapons that possessed magical power that transcended normal limits. He said that indeed he did know the secrets of forging powerful blades and other weapons. 

I nodded and Aethramyr said “Indeed we have seen your handywork and have been most impressed.” And in so saying, loosed Shatterspike in its sheath and revealed a few inches of the blade.

The prince’s eyes went wide for a moment. “Gebrecan Gimstan? Shatterspike? That blade was lost to me . . . quite some time ago. May I see it?” Aethramyr gladly offered the blade for inspection and the prince examined it carefully. “The blade shows marks of… enthisastic use,” the prince smiled. “This damage here….and over here… who repaired this?” 

Aethramyr humbly replied “I did the best I could to maintain it with my meager skills.”

“Interesting,” the prince mused. “The blade must have accepted you to even allow you to work it this much. You must have more than meager skills.”

The prince returned the blade and went on. “Yes, I know these secrets. And I can teach them to you as well, should your skill as a craftsman be up to such a challenge. Like any true creation you would need to invest some of your own essence to create such weapons, but I can show you the way.”

I thanked him. Aethramyr and I were keen to learn these arts, and glad that the prince would share his knowledge freely. We discussed the blades briefly and Shatterspike. All the other blades had been lost the the prince save one, which he brought from a display case he made appear on the wall. The blade was crafted from jade vitaesis, and was called Sceaduscaeft or ShadowCut. Unlike ShatterSpike which would grow from a longsword to a greatsword, ShadowCut would shink to a shortsword if the wielder desired.

It was a stunning blade and every bit Shatterspike’s equal. I couldn’t help but steal a glance at Valanthe who seemed equally impressed, and I wondered what she was thinking right then.

The Diamond Prince offered us his hospitality for the night and in the morning he could give us our first instructions on the weapons of power. While it would take some weeks to properly educate us, he would begin with the fundamentals and we could return later after tending to matters on some other planes, assuming we could get there.

We retired to very comfortable rooms and had as restful a night as one could so far from home. In the morning my mind was much clearer and I was able to begin to probe the changes in my magical valences, most of which were minor, but there were some spells gone and others in their place as if the basic laws had shifted slightly out from under them. 

Over breakfast, I learned that I was not alone in this. Dravot reported that the offerings from Pelor were different than they once were, and Bolo said the same was true for him. Aethramyr told me that he had spoken to his Lady in the Dreaming last night and seemed to be a changed elf. The marks of fire and stone were fully visible on him. He had crossed over.

After breakfast we spent the morning and into the afternoon with the prince. The workshop was a forge and foundry but was also filled with tuning forks and other tools, as working with vitaesis was more art than science. You could not force the crystal, only encourage it to bend as you willed. As we worked, an idea started forming in my mind, but it will take a great deal more work and more importantly, time, to fully realize. 

In the afternoon we planned to try to break through to Sigil. While the prince said that the color pool was dim and not working yesterday, by the time we got there it was functioning again, and we landed in the Noble’s district and moved on without incident. A lightkeeper confirmed what the prince told us – that many arcanists were now dead from a sudden surge of power. And many of the celestials had apparently left the city several days ago, which may be related.

[Hey, I wonder where all those modrons are going? Eh, someone will figure it out.]

I couldn’t help but notice the jade vitaesis of ShadowCut at Valanthe’s side. I raised my eyes to her and she raised her hands innocently. “No – I asked and he let me borrow it! He did! He said he thought I would try to borrow it on my own and was thrilled I asked.” I just laughed as we moved down the streets.

We went straight to the shop of Mortimer Fuvex-vex-vex. The tiefling seemed to be doing well and was glad, if wary, to see us again. His mood brightened considerably as we got down to business, offering him a vast array of goods and requesting equally expensive items in return. Apparently the death of so many arcanists had caused a glut in various types of magic items so there were many interesting items available, and we spent several hours conducting our business. Mortimer remained upbeat the entire time, no doubt due to the huge profit that our transactions would net him.

Again, Bolo felt the need to mention our defeat of the ShadowTaker. This time I gave him a long look. That kind of information given to Fuvex would surely get around, and that could be very dangerous for us if old allies of the worm decided to come after us. I’m not sure why he had to blurt that out – it was not something Mortimer needed to know, nor could he be trusted to stay quiet about anything.

When we were done, we planned to return to the prime. Fuvex-vex-vex confirmed what we had already learned about the arcanists and the problems with planar travel, but we wanted to try anyway. Bolo was very concerned about his grove and I think we were all ready to return home. Fuvex-vex-vex understood completely, what with the Githyanki invasion and all.

“Excuse me?”

“The Githyanki have invaded the prime. Didn’t you know?” I wanted to smack him.

We decided to hurry. We used a back room in the shop and Scorch prepared to open a gate. But the gate would not open at first. Scorch was annoyed at being denied, and forced his full energy and concentration into the spell as it started to stall. With a massive surge of power, the gate was forced open and tore a hole to the Prime and we hurried through. The gate should have stayed open for some minutes, but it collapsed under the weight of the interference almost as soon as we were through it.

We appeared in the grove, safe and sound. I was already starting to like gates for planar travel rather than the random landing of a plane shift. The grove did not seem to be in any immediate danger.

I focused on the scale and contacted Lord Gelban. The return contact was swifter than usual.

“Hello. We’re back,” I said.

“Hello. You’re alive. Good. Busy now. War. Dyvers. I’ll contact you soon.” He dropped the contact, clearly in the middle of a battle but he stopped to answer me anyway. 

I think it was about then that I noticed some…thing stuck in a large tree. It was an astral dreadnaught – a beast like the one we had fought one in the maze that the Lady cast us into after the unfortunate incident in Fuvex’s shop. But this one had been modified. There seemed to be pieces of a ship grafted on to it. And there was a large ballistae bolt through the center of its forehead, and it must have crashed into the tree. The thing was so big there was no way to get it down.

I stood staring at it as the Owl came up. “From when the Githyanki attacked here the other day. Given the number of bizarre assaults we have around here, we’re taking our defense pretty seriously,” she remarked. “It was a serious assault, but we won.”

Scorch was admiring the ballistae bolt. “Your work?” he asked the Owl. She beamed proudly and pulled out a small whistle and blew on it twice. A few seconds later there was a loud crashing as something stomped through the trees accompanied by a great deal of cursing. Then Haldrin camin to view, barely maintaining a seat atop a gigantic animated ballistae. The weapon came to a halt and the Owl looked over at Scorch, who fully approved. Feeling the need to show off a bit, Scorch asked “So you want me to get rid of that thing?” 

The Owl said “Um, sure. It’s starting to stink.”

Scorch unleashed a modified _disintegrate_ and the entire massive creature vanished with a trace of dust on the wind. Scorch cackled a bit and looked pleased with himself.

The Owl related how the Gith had attacked with some kind of half-dragon troops with them. There were also casters with dark powers, and some healing magic – odd since that is usually off limits to the Gith. The powers of these dark casters were difficult to pin down, but they operated mostly in a support role. There was also a slaad of some kind with them, probably grey. Most retreated after they were thrown back, not expecting such a fierce defense here. Ariadne had shifted into a full dragon form and was apparently quite a terror. 

Bolo checked on his parents. Apparently they were unconscious since the death of the ShadowTaker – the worm had put some kind of control mechanism in them not unlike things we had seen before, but Dravot was able to cure them of the trauma. While he did that, he asked me to use a new _Stone of Sending_ he had to see if things were well with his sister.

I sent Thora _*Kayleigh here. We’re back on the plane and well. We’ve heard of Githyanki attacks. Dravot asks how Brindinford is. Respond in 25 words or less.*_

Her reply came quickly. _*Glad you’re alive. Undead massing at Rauxes. No immediate danger but increasing defenses. Temple of Wee Jas preparing for attacks. Kalten has sent message.*_

Why is everyone so surprised we’re alive?

After some looking around and idle conversations, Scorch and I started checking on some people. He tried to scry some members of his guild and found them apparently rebuilding a guild hall somewhere. I scried Aran’gel, and saw him leading a column of troops northward and from the looks of it he was in Celene somewhere. That didn’t bode well but he wasn’t in any immediate danger.

Bolo had scanned the grove for any other attackers or unusual presences. He found a powerful anomaly to the south, and we went to investigate. Hiding in a tree was a large wooden marionette, similar to what we had seen in the Crypt of the ShadowTaker. One of his agents surely. It turned and shifted to a smaller shape with rubbery tentacles for hands and two legs. It started moving faster and we tried to talk to it. It tried to hide but when it couldn’t, it then shifted to the form of a wolf to run, and we destroyed it. Once dead, it reverted back to the form of a marionette. How many of these spies were still around with no one to report to?

We then discussed our next move. Aethramyr and I would need time in the Shadow Plane to learn more. Scorch wanted to check in on his guild, while I also wanted to return Aran’gel’s hand and maybe see to his healing. We were about to split up and tend to our own affairs for a bit when the scale hummed again and we heard Lord Gelban’s voice in our minds.

*Githyanki are attacking Celene. Aran’gel needs help soon. Immediately. Now. Can you assist?*

I smiled slightly. We might have been late to this war, but we’d make up for it and then some. I thought back to Lord Gelban “We’ll go immediately.” 

Scorch prepared his teleport while I used the crystal ball to find Aran’gel again. He was on a field, arranging his men, and looking worried. I held the ball up to Scorch who smiled and just said “Right!”.

And we were there.


----------



## WizarDru

In his previous life, he was certain that he had been foul. He had done things....*terrible things*. 

Most of that eluded him, now.

This didn't mean, however, that he didn't appreciate that he reasonably deserved to suffer, merely that was still the same selfish, foul monster he had always been. He understood that his daily pain and terror were of his own doing, but had no desire to pay his piper's due. So when the summons came, pulling him out of the Cage of Razors, the fallen one was righfully fearful. Fearful and full of hate.

"_Come, fool...and mind your blood_," The Slug said. He had a name, but it was long since forgotten to the fallen one. He called the master's chief servant The Slug, in his mind if not in his speech. At least, if he still could talk, he would. The vocal chords were only just healing from the Cage, and he'd have to drag himself up ten flights of stairs before they or his legs would work again. They had left him his arms, drenched in his own fluids but functional. He began to drag himself into the manor.

It was ardous work, pulling his massive form with only razor-cut hands. The ground had been sown with salt and glass fragments...all as a present for him while he dragged himself across the courtyard to the door. He was dulled to some of the pain, but he was not immune. He chanced to look up at the manor before him. How many stories today? Where would the master be?

As he watched, three more stories were added to the building. 13 floors to climb. The master was either angry with him, or playing with him. He was suprised to find that the later frightened him more. What was he planning? 

The Slug kicked him in the stomach, it's clawed foot penetrating his kidneys and pulling them out. He screamed. Again. It mocked him, of course. It would for the entire journey. He would heal...but only so he could suffer again. That was all that healing was for, _wasn't it?_

Time passed. It always did. 

He had regrown half of his organs to the tune of the Slug's depredations when he paused, somewhere on the way. How many steps had it been? The stairs were made of bone, wood and steel. No foot found comfort on them, nor was one expected to. They were custom-made for him to crawl on, belly-down, so that he could be riven with pain and mutilation. Slivers of all three substances tore at hs skin, embedded underneath it and gave him cause to cry out.
Only one thing sustained him: *his HATE*.

Agony followed agony, as more of the master's servants arrived to alternately torture and cajole him as he climbed the stairs. They were expected to, though they would gladly do so. Abuse heaped upon abuse. Scars and horrors inflicted on the body. He could not die, so they did everything that their minds could concieve...but they were not to break his body. It amazed him that he could still suffer and feel pain. His tolerance had not increased, even through the unending horror.

He continued climbing.
Always climbing. 

He didn't know how long it took to get there. _*Hours*? *Days*? *Weeks*?_ Time had no such meanings here. It took as long as it took. To think any other way signfied madness. As he opened the door by pushing it open with his face, a hook caught him in the mid-section, lifted him and carried his screaming form into the room beyond. It could only be Sasteristus. He couldn't be sure, of course, as his eyes had rolled up into his head, and his vision had gone red. But he knew, all the same. The master's majordomo was nothing if not efficient....both in his tasks and in his hate. The fallen one admired Sasteristus. He looked forward to the day he could tell him that...just before he consumed his still beating heart. The only thing he could discern was the sound of hooves on stone...and then he finally blacked out.

He heard sounds, now, as his vision returned. 

_An elegant dinner party?_ 

Guests chatting quietly, clinking glasses, a ballroom, haunting music and polite conversation. Was he the entertainment? Please, _*not again*_.
The sudden hushing of dozens of voices brought him back to himself. The Master must have arrived. He hoped he hadn't kept him waiting. It was always worse if he'd done that. He musn't do that. Ever. *EVER*.

"_Ah. Hello, little maggot. So nice of you to join us._" A sweet, lilting voice. A pretty voice...laced with poison and bile. A dangerous voice.

"*M...Masssder...*" his voice wasn't working. The vocal chords weren't fully healed after the last three assualts. His words brought quiet laughter of the quaint and slightly-amused sort.

He turned to look, and could only see the black hooves. There were concubines and supplicants about, to judge by the feet. Naked he supposed. He saw one, a human, slip and fall to the floor. As she did, adamantite clamps appeared over her neck and hands. Had they been there before? Did he care? She *was* naked. Perhaps she would thrown into the Cage with him. He was no longer sure whether he could remember if that was good or bad. But being superior to anyone would be a treat. You could always fall lower. He had learned that the hard way.

"_Feeling weak, are we?_" The master laughed then, a viscious sound full of fury but without true passion. The pathetic titters of his hangers-on echoed it. "_Shall I maim you, again, fallen? Do you deserve that, I wonder? Don't we all?_"

"*As you wish, master,*" he replied, his speech returned. "*I live to serve.*"

"_You don't live at all, fallen. None of us do...but, truly, some less than others._"

With that proclamation, he heard the sound of ringing metal, followed by a thud. His eyes, still blurry, tracked the sound to the end of the masters arm, and the Black Blade that stood there. The Slug's body, now gushing blood, seemed to missing it's head. Sasteristus laughed at the sight, though the others remained silent.

"_Ut Yee thought to reveal my secrets, MY SECRETS!, to another. He thought I would not know. I *DID* know. Because I *WAS* that other. Just as I was yours, Sasteristus._" The laughter stopped. "_You were wise not to betray me. Remember that is why you still exist._"

"_You cost me nothing, Sasteristus. My sweetling here, though, he cost me a pretty penny. I had to trade many things for you, didn't I? All so I could work my particular talents with you, and introduce you to so many of my friends._" Torturers, he meant.

"_Do you know why I have summoned you, little maggot?_" Here it was. The pain was to begin, he was sure. "_My plans are coming together, at last. Revenge against those who thwarted me, like a ripe fruit, is nearly ready to be picked. Tell me, maggot, do you hate me? Would you kill me, if given a chance?_"

A test. How to answer? *HOW TO ANSWER*?

"*Yes, master. I hate you beyond words, beyond reason. I long for the day when I can consume your flesh while you watch. I dream of your mutilation at every waking thought. Death and worse, master.*" _The truth_. A dangerous ploy, but why not?

"_Wonderful."_ He tittered, almost like a child. "_So refreshingly honest. And I'd know if you were lying. Oh, yes, I'd *know*. Such obedience deserves a reward. You are raw metal now, ready to be worked. For you shall be my weapon. Filled with hate and ready to lay the world bare._"

Even as the screams began anew and his flesh was remade at the master's beckoning, the fallen one knew his time of freedom had come. Soon, he would spread his newfound madness and gift of pain amongst the living once more.

And even as he screamed, tears streaming down his face....he *smiled*.


----------



## Zad

This week's sorta-teaser:


Parsalan had nearly recovered from the shock of their arrival. The newcomers immediately spread out as if they knew the situation and what to do about it. There were scant moments before the Githyanki trap closed around them, but these strangers made use of the time, casting spells and preparing, while the elf-girl rocked on her heels like a schoolgirl listening to the Prince.

"The situation is not good," Prince Aran'gel informed her. "My scouts spotted an astral brig coming in low. We made ready for a lightning strike ambush. Then suddenly dozens of gith came out of hiding, while more ships and flyers appeared, ready to begin an attack run. It was a trap and we had walked right into it."

Parsalan invoked chanted the holy _Recitation_ of Corellian. Where better to do it than here? If these people would be heroes, let them feel Corellian's blessings.  And as the spell washed over them, emboldening them all, Parsalan knew: some of them already had.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Scorch said:
			
		

> What was even more freaky was the awakened, dire gelatinious cube with levels of forsaker that was doing business with FuVexVexVex when we walked in.
> 
> Scorch



OY! You had to remind me!


----------



## Valanthe the Sleepless

*From the Journal of Valanthe the Sleepless:*

OK, so here's the thing....I'm a gods-be-damned folk hero.

Seems that words gotten around Sceadutine about some of my...umm, exploits. Remember that Shadowgate thing I  destroyed a few months back?  Apparently word got around.  At least two of the spies working for the Princes (well, Prince, now) have loose lips.  There were are already a few stories about me, so they started putting two and two together, and then got five, I guess.

Next thing you know, I'm the Shadow Princess.  Great.  I've spent the greater part of my life trying to NOT be  noticed, and so naturally Tritherion or someone (I'm looking at YOU, Pelor) thinks it's funny to make me two steps  shy of a legend.  Grrr.

See, I brought back the group from the Shadowtaker's realms using a little trick I'd figured out.  The spellcasters  were running around like chickens with their heads cut off, with Scorch running around yelling about "Valences" and  "Collapsing event horizons" and "grand foozles".  I think that Dravot was planning on doing something, but it  would've cost him.  Cue up yours truly.  I've been able to slip in and out of the Shadow plane for a while now, but  I recently learned how to take other folks with me.

All of us linking hands and walking along reminded me of Mother Gota's
school when we children and traveling  somewhere.  And NO, I didn't get all weepy or anything...but I haven't seen her in a while, and it just reminded me, that's all.  

Shut up.

Anyways, there we are in Sceadutine, and we run into these guards that used to work for the Amethyst Prince, I  think, escorting this...this...I don't know what.  It called itself the Crystal Emissary, and it was weird.  Not as weird as Dravot, though.  He's casting a shadow of LIGHT.  Creeepy.  And he's like a compass...his shadow always  points to the Spectral Citadel where HE is.  Brrr.

Where was I?  Oh, the folk hero thing, right.  So, several of these guards start calling me the Shadow  Princess...and then everyone's looking at me like I'm supposed to know what that's all about?  Littleshade sort of  lets it slip then that she hadn't had a chance to mention, what with the battle and all.  I asked her if there was  anything else she hadn't mentioned to me, and she shows me a crystal she nicked off me, last time we met.  I was angry that she felt she had to take it, when I would have given it to her anyhow.  She told me she just wanted to  stay in practice.  We're a little too alike, her and me.

Now, about this time Scorch stops crying like a baby (did I mention his
necklace just up and exploded?) and points  out that we're pretty
conspicious here.  Dravot starts talking about the Githyanki (I HATE those guys) and I figure  we had better beat feat to see the Prince. I heard he's a swell fella, but he's got nothing on the Hammer, from  what I hear. Little too tidy, if you know what I mean.

Anyhow, one thing leads to another, and we met him (after ditching that
Emissary...I'm not sure I trust him).  He's  a pretty decent guy, if you ask me.  If I weren't spoken for, he might not be bad for a tumble...something about  those smiths, I guess. He's not a bit of a fop, like the Amethsyt Prince was.  Pretty concerned about his people,  too. Our people, I guess. Still getting used to that idea.

Go figure.

Anyhow, that night, I did some thinking.  We'd figured a few things out, and one of them was how to unlock the  powers that the Djinni Prince said that we had.  We needed to find our 'place of power'.  Well, if this wasn't it, I don't know what was.  So I sat there, with my three friends - Berlden, Verilunda and Littleshade, and we  concentrated...Kayleigh would probably say we were meditating, but it wasn't quite like that.  We were...I don't know, communicating.  The same way that we're linked to each other, I'm linked to this place, somehow.  That's when  I knew where to go...the towers.

All those towers with their gossamer bridges on top of the Diadem?  In the center of all of 'em is a platform.  Just a platform.  It's almost invisible up there, it's so small...and none of the lights can turn to shine on it. It's a hidden place for the Diamond Prince to watch the surrounding areas from an attack.  And from there I could see into the vast darkness around us.  It was...well, spiritual, somehow.

I could FEEL the shadows.  They felt like...it's hard to describe.  It's like when you go swimming in the Nyr Dyv, and you can feel the warm currents and cold ones?  It's like that...but with shadows and people's attention.  I just suddenly UNDERSTOOD how to slip between them.  It's hard to explain.  

When I return, we found out there’s apparently been a cataclysm and we needed to high-tail it back to the prime. For some reason we couldn’t get to the prime from the Shadow lands, but luckily Scorch could get us to Sigil. Too bad there wasn’t time for shopping, but I did managed to pick up a nifty trinket from the Diamond Prince (more about that later) And I didn’t steal it, I actually asked. Really!

We stopped by FuVex-vex-vex and what we found out was pretty bad. The Githyanki were attacking the prime. What in the abyss is going on? We had better get back fast. Thanks to Scorch punching a hole through, we did a hot landing in what I think is Kayleigh’s home of Celene. 

And now here we are in the middle of the Githyanki invasion. Where else would we be but in the middle of trouble?


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*Teaser!*

Bolo stood in the middle of the battlefield and concentrated for a moment and where once stood the Halfling/Elf Druid now stood a Treant Druid. Bolo towered over the field he saw Dravot and his minions fighting the Gyth and Aethramyr slicing his way through the enemy troops and flying up to the Dragons and their riders and doing the most amazing thing that the Paladin had done to date, and that was saying a lot due to Bolo’s experiences with the Dreamer’s champion. Kayleigh was firing arrows, filling the air with wooden death. Valenthe was nowhere to be seen as usual but Bolo had faith in the Shadow Princess that all was well. Scorch was invisible but it seemed that the enemy could still make him out. Tailcatcher and the Shamblers were guarding what elves they could, to the great discomfort of the elves that felt like they were not being treated like seasoned warriors, but to the hells with their feelings Bolo would not let them come to harm if he could prevent it. Bolo had cast a powerful firestorm onto the two astral brigs but he allowed himself to be distracted and didn’t see the shadow fall over his huge Treant form until it was to late….


----------



## Zad

*Shadows rise and shadows fall - Chapter 2*

*Shadows Rise and Shadows Fall - Chapter 2*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience will be via e-mail for this week.

*Loot:*

The spoils of war will also arrive via e-mail.

*This Week’s Adventure:*

I took a moment to survey the soon-to-be battlefield. We had arrived in a sizable clearing with a small road running through it. Aran’gel and his officers were gathered on the road, while 100 light horsemen with bows and some 50 light infantry got into formation. It was an elven strike force – there was no baggage train or non-combattants to worry about. To the east was a wide yet shallow river with forest on the far side. From where we stood it was 200 feet to the treeline to the north, where dense forest started. 

Coming in over the treeline were two massive creatures just to the right of the road ahead. They only bore a passing resemblance to an ethereal dreadnaught – they were long, serpentine forms with a single eye and they cut through the air as if it were water. Each had platforms mounted on them with githyanki soldiers. On the left side of the road, there were two astral brigs – one smaller than the other, with their crews, and flanking them were two githyanki riding red dragons. Scattered in the treeline of the forest were githyanki foot soldiers. Some of them were unusual and seemed to have dragon blood in them.

After I spent a few seconds looking around, I turned to Aran’gel who was still gathering his wits. I ignored the scene for a moment and beamed at him “Miss me?” Then I started casting a quick prepatory spell.

His mouth opened and closed a few times and finally said “You know, we never have time to just talk any more.” I just shrugged my head and he asked “I take it I have you to thank for the return of my essence?”

I thought about it a moment, and it made sense so I replied “Yes…. I suppose that would be true. Rather a long story though and we have other matters to handle here.”

He nodded at that and readied an arrow and glanced sideways at me. “Shall we count?” 

He must have recovered some of his humor as well. “Of course,” I answered. Sadly I didn’t do too well.

Bolo summoned a celestial roc. I couldn’t even imagine where such a thing would come from but I’d rather not dwell on it. It appeared near one of the brigs and was promptly fired upon and disintegrated by the crews but it was a useful stall. Then the dreadnaughts moved closer and their eye shot forth an anti-magic cone that washed over the field. Normally I would feel protected in such a field, but this time it would do us more harm than good and we needed them stopped and fast. Dravot backed up and used a sunburst to blind one of the dreadnaughts and it flailed around, its eye burned out. That was one at least. Aran’gel fired a volley into the other dreadnaught but the arrows had little effect. I followed with a volley of my own but my arrows met the same defense. These things were turning out to be quite troubling.

Valanthe suddenly struck at something that had slipped near us unseen. It was one of the red dragon/githyanki crossbreeds, but its weapons were on fire and it seemed larger than the others. Valanthe and the shadows mobbed him, and Bolo used a _Quench_ to put out his weapons cutting down that threat.

Scorch was invisible, high above the battle. He decided to remove the other dreadnaught and into the _Maze_ it went. For his trouble, someone decided to try to _disintegrate_ Scorch but he shrugged off the effect. It did however clearly reveal some of the spellcasters on the astral brigs that I had spotted earlier. Another caster sent a _Horrid Wilting_ at us, slaughtering much of the infantry and causing Bolo, who had shifted to the form of a treant, to howl in pain. 

The githyanki appeared in our ranks, in squads of five with a half-dragon squad leader. Thorkeld and Zera moved quickly and began slaughtering one after the next. Aran’gel released his hail of arrows and dropped several more, putting him well ahead of me in the count. I wanted to go after the nearby footsoldiers, but the spellcasters worried me more. I let a full volley fly into one of the casters on the forecastle. The arrows all hit true, but it was the woman next to him whose chest burst with blood and collapsed. While the caster was badly hurt, the one protecting him was shattered.

I sighed heavily and disappointedly remarked to Aran’gel “One.” 

He commented “Pretty significant ‘one’ though.”

I was still miffed. “Yes, but it wasn’t the ‘one’ I was aiming at.”

The response from the brig was a sudden fog cloud that settled over us but it was so thin as to not really hide anything. There was a magical wave that came with it, but it seemed to pass over us all without any effect.

Across the field, the red dragon riders moved slowly closer. But back in our lines, the now-revealed gith that Valanthe had attacked realized he’d had enough. He attempted to leave, but as he did so, Valanthe cut him down and he fell in a heap. 

Scorch let his own _Horrid Wilting_ fall over the incoming dragons and their riders weakening them. Spells and arrows were flying furiously at this point – we needed to control the field and quickly. Dravot was thinking the same thing. He held up the Light of Reason, and opened the shutter and Pelor’s brilliant light shined forth. Wherever it touched, there was a great burst of flame, and he shined it across the githyanki ground troops and across the decks of the brigs, still floating far out. Most of the ground troops were consumed in Pelor’s fire, except the half dragons, and the brig crews were destroyed as well, save the casters. 

While the remaining dreadnaught was blind, it was still crewed, and its crew commanded it to cover the field in fire. It belched forth a fire from the abyss itself. I was able to avoid most of the blaze and my protection spell absorbed the rest. Aran’gel was hurt but not badly, having crouched behind a pile of ash that used to be his horse. But many of our horsemen were burned in the conflagration and the battlefield took on the smell of charred flesh. 

The dragons were closer now, and they too let loose their breath weapon. They were turning into a threat. Aethramyr rocketed into the air and smashed into one of the riders, knocking him cleanly out of his seat. I opened fire on one of the dragons and while some of the shots were knocked away by wingstrokes, there were still some deep wounds in the dragon’s hide. Scorch tossed a sonic fireball into the mix, and it destroyed one of the dragons and his rider, while the other set was seriously injured. 

It was now that the githyanki realized they had a problem. The spellcaster on the brig plane-shifted himself and the entire brig away, back to the astral presumably. The other brig was starting to lurch in the sky. The dragon and rider also withdrew from the plane.

This left only the dreadnaughts. The one that had been lost in the maze returned so now we had both to deal with. Their crews were easily dispatched but this left the great beasts themselves. One loosed its breath on the other trying to deal with Valanthe who was atop having killed some of the crew. These astral monstrosities were ignoring most of the spells being thrown at them but Scorch was able to _Dominate_ the sighted one and they tore at each other with ferocity. Unsurpringly the blinded one was finally killed by the sighted one, and Scorch then killed the sighted one by forcing it to accept a death spell. 

I had popped over to the listing brig, but the controls were locked and there seemed to be some kind of overload building up. Valanthe joined me and managed to fix that problem, and I tried to fire the ballistae at into the dreadnaught fight but the cursed thing wouldn’t fire. But we got control of the ship, which was rather nice in its own way, and we struck the githyanki colors.

When it was over, easily half the elven force was dead. Had we not come, I’m sure they would all have been killed. We canvassed the field for the wounded, and recovered what we could from the fallen gith, hoping for some clues. Aran’gel dispatched the Swiftrunners of Ehlonna that were in the company to deliver a report. No doubt the Queen would have much to say after this. The brig itself may yield some information when we search it thoroughly. The holds seemed to only have bizarre foods for the gith while they were here. After we searched the field, we decided to withdraw quickly before reinforcements could arrive. We got the troops moving on horse, and we set the brig sailing next to them, heading for a command post some fifty miles to the east. 

I stood on the foredeck as the brig started moving and the just felt the wind in my hair. As we pulled away from the blood and stench of the battle, the land gave way to Celene’s beautiful forests and rivers and I just enjoyed being home, even if it took a war to get me here. I couldn’t let the githyanki – or anyone else – spoil this. Not as long as I lived. I won’t be going anywhere until I’m sure Celene is safe.

A few minutes later, Aran’gel came forward, along with one of his similarly horseless lieutenants. He would have preferred to ride with his men, but there was much to talk about, and the brig floated alongside the mounted column close enough that he could call out to them in any case. And then there was the matter of his horse, or lack thereof.

I turned over my shoulder and just started at Aran’gel for a long moment. He stopped and just looked back at me, and there was a warmth in his eyes. For a brief moment, the battle, the ship, the rest of the world faded away and it was just us. Thinking back on it, I can’t recall him being quite so expressive in the past. He truly did seem to be returning to his old self. I turned around and took two slow steps towards him and we shared a short soft kiss.

The young lieutenant said nothing but I swear I could hear him blushing. Without letting go, I said to him “Take your moments where you find them Lieutenant. You don’t know when you’ll get a chance again.”

Aran’gel smiled a boyish smile “This is Alandar. He has served well today. Alandar, this is Kayleigh.”

I regarded him. “Indeed. You and your men did well today, against a vastly superior foe. You should be proud.”

“You are kind to say so… My Lady?” he questioned. I nodded and he went on. “But we would have been no more than food for the fields were it not for you and your friends. I have never seen such ferocity as you and your companions showed. Even the wounded are well and riding thanks to the cleric. We owe you a debt.”

“Alandar, you serve and protect Celene. You owe me nothing. Indeed for that service it is I who owe you. I was glad to help. I have been away more than I would like of late. But you are kind to offer your thanks – do please offer them to the others and introduce yourself to them. They are good people.” I would gladly have done this for duty, but for the others… well this is not their home.

“Of course My Lady. I shall do so. But there are other…” he started, and I stopped him since he didn’t quite get the subtle hint.

“Now would be a good time.” He looked at me, still not realizing I was telling him to go away.

“I would like a few moments with His Highness,” I said, not entirely hiding a smirk. “We have much to discuss. So if you’ll excuse us?”

“Oh. Of course.” And he withdrew.

I called after him “And tell someone to fly an elven standard from the mast so we don’t get fireballed out of the sky!” I thought a moment and then suggested we go to the captain’s quarters – I had something for Aran’gel, and he might prefer it was not openly displayed.

The cabin was functional enough, and I took down a bottle of wine. The inventory of Ruun Khazai may have taken weeks, but at least now I knew what was good in githyanki wine. Once it was opened, I told him of the ShadowTaker from the beginning. I told him of the old worm, of its history, of its schemes. It was an agent of the ShadowTaker that had ambushed his men and cut off his hand in the Shield Lands. The same agent that had impersonated Dravot’s brother. The hand I found near his body was not his true hand, but an attempt by the ShadowTaker to control Aran’gel, as he had with Scorch and so many mages and others. 

“The ShadowTaker had your real hand. He fed on the energies from it. It was this that kept you less than you were. When the ShadowTaker was destroyed that power returned to you, where it belongs.” With that I put a small cloth bundle on the table and unwrapped it to reveal his hand, still as fresh as if it were living. 

“Your restoration can be complete now if you wish it. The ShadowTaker, who hatched that plot and many others, is destroyed. You can be whole again.”

He took a long sip of his wine and thought for a time. “What about the black archer?” he asked.

“It was a bebbilith, one of many servants of the worm. It’s been destroyed. I saw to that personally,” I added with a small smile over my glass.

“Then it is over. It is time I moved on. You’ve given me the chance to be whole, in many different ways,” and he glanced at his military insignia, one of the few he bothered to wear, and surely only grudgingly while commanding the strike force. “I owe you so much.”

I gave a small shrug and as shy a smile as I could manage. “You owe me nothing, Warden,” adding plenty of sarcasm to the last. “But I could collect my due in dances if you like. But before that, would you like me to speak to Dravot about your hand?”

He paused, then nodded. Then his thoughts strayed down a different path. “And what of Dravot? He seems so different now. For that matter so does Aethramyr, and all of you. Different from those novice adventuers in a common room in Highfolk.”

“Dravot is a living saint, or so close as it makes no real difference. He is chosen of his god. The lantern is a holy relic and Pelor has chosen him to bear it. We have seen much since those days, and we are all greatly changed for it. Mostly for the better I suppose. I’m still somewhat shocked that we managed to throw down the ShadowTaker. That creature had schemes within schemes, and I can’t quite fathom how we managed to get close enough to destroy him. But you are right. We are changed.” At that I removed my glove, and he saw that the archer’s nock was gone, now replaced with the Mark of Fire.

After some moments just staring at it, he said “I’m not sure I understand what this means. You are clearly still a Champion of course – the battle showed that fairly clearly. I am not sure I understand, but then again, maybe I’m better off that way.”

I giggled at that. “I can’t say I totally understand it either. We’re each marked in our own way. We’re each transcending thresholds that we had assumed were inviolate. Perhaps each favored of our gods in our own way. It’s like standing in a doorway, and I’m about to step outside into the sunshine and a whole new world.”

I refilled my glass, and got down to more practical matters. “But for now, tell me about the gith. Tell me where they are, and why they came, so we can make them regret it.”


----------



## Zad

*Shadows Rise and Shadows Fall - Chapter 3*

*Shadows Rise and Shadows Fall - Chapter 3*

*OOC Notes:*
Exp from Chapter 1 and 2 is 4050. Exp for Chapter 3 will be forthcoming.

*Loot:*
The booty from the githyanki task force:
3 sets of +1 full plate
3 +1 greatswords
+2 full plate
+1 flaming/+1 shocking two-bladed sword
Gauntlets of ogre power (+2)
+1 unholy silver sword
+3 full plate
Ring of protection +1
Staff of Necromancy
Ring of protection +2
Cloak of Charisma +2
+1 driftmetal breastplate, (25% chance of effective vs incorporeal atk, +1000gp)
+1 greatsword
+1 composite longbow (+5 str)
potion of bull strength
potion of bear’s endurance
potion fo haste

*This Week’s Adventure:*
Aran’gel told me that there were perhaps ten thousand githyanki in the attacks. It has been difficult to get a count due to their mobility. The main offensive has been underway for a week, and preparations likely longer. The interdiction on planar travel only started within the last 48 hours. Currently they are not sure who is responsible, how they did it or why. The Gith have attacked mainly in the northwestern areas of the Flaness. The south has been left untouched. Near Brindinford there have been reports of holes punched to the shadow plane, but they are not conventional portals. It seems connected to Rauxes, but little more is known.

Of course the “northwestern area of the Flaness” made us all wonder if they were looking for Ruun-Khazai. But I keep telling myself they would have no reason to look for it nor know it was here.

The Swiftrunners had been dispatched to deliver ther reports, and two of them went to the command post that we were heading for. The brig floated slowly, letting the mounted troops keep up. The battle left us only with the healthy and the dead – any injured elves were healed by Dravot’s attentions. The progress was slow as the horses picked their way through dense forest, but we would reach the command post by dinner.

Scorch proceeded to analyze the brig, making various comments about the work and spellcraft. He trapsed all over the ship shouting loudly about planar mechanics and the ship slipping into the astral for a while. Then when he was in the power room he suddenly he went silent. He came back on deck and his face had lost some of its color. In a low voice he said “Do you realize the level of skill necessary to make a ship like this? Only the most talented spellcasters could manage it.”

I looked back at him blankly, not understanding. 

“Don’t you see? The Lich Queen of the Githyanki! She consumes her people before allowing them to become powerful enough to make something like this.” The habits of the Lich Queen were well known to anyone who traveled the planes – when a githyanki reached a certain power, his soul was consumed by the Lich Queen, lest he become a threat to her. I had known this for some time.

“So who made the ships?” I asked.

Scorch’s answer was quick. “Either someone else made them, which I highly doubt. Or a githyanki made them _after_ he was consumed.”

Dravot had an immediate realization. “Of course. That explains it. The mage on the other brig – he must have been undead. He was too far to detect the taint but I’m sure of it now. Their army includes undead more powerful than the Lich Queen allows the githyanki to become. This is not good at all.”

When searching the brig for useful information, we found nothing but food. Of course most of it couldn’t be called “food” by conventional definitions but it was there to be eaten. Some of the stranger stuff would be poisonous to primers, and poisonous to the githyanki. It seemed to be food native to Limbo.

I asked Scorch “So who _isn’t_ it poisonous to?”

He said “Slaad.”

Wonderful.

After we had traveled for a couple hours, I had the sense that we were getting closer to elven patrols. Sure enough, out of the clouds came a wing of hippogriff cavalry. Aran’gel fired a signal arrow and the team flew by and waved us on with a cheer at the captured brig. After their withdrawal, a set of three copper dragons came in. I was surprised to see them so openly but glad at the same time. Two of them peeled off to resume the patrol, while the third one plunged straight towards the deck, changing to a human form moments before landing. With a small thud, the Anvil landed on deck and greeted us.

We spent some time updating each other. He told us that Chavram’s army has managed to liberate Geoff and the giants are defeated or driven back. But the army itself is now missing, having completely vanished. Again. There was some reason to suspect that Chavram may have captured another binder from the Barrier Peaks. The rest was mostly known to us already, but confirmation is always welcome in such uncertain times. After a time, Anvil left to attend to other matters, and left one of his cousins, Cauldron, flying escort with us so as not to alarm anyone.

As the sun started setting, we came over a ridge and saw the command post. It was no mere field camp – there were some twenty to thirty thousand troops by my quick count. Most were of Celene, but there were banners of the Uleks and a least a division of Nyrondese guardsmen. Aran’gel pointed to an apparently empty hilltop as the location of the command post, and we brought the brig in nearby. There was a great deal of silence as the brig passed overhead, but welcome cries as the elven troops returned with us.

We wasted no time heading for the tent where Onselven had set up command. After stepping through the illusion covering the hilltop, we saw a tent seemed completely unsuited to life in the field, except that magic had made up the difference between ornamentation and durability. Our group with Aran’gel and I in the lead went straight inside without waiting for any kind of announcement. Inside were a group of generals clustered around an enchanted map. At the head was Onselven, carrying a different staff than usual. The map had markers on it indicating where victories, defeats and uncertain battles had taken place. There were three of each so far. Interestingly, our fight was the first one to occur even remotely close to a body of water. 

I ignored protocol and broke into the discussion as I walked up, asking what the situation was. Onselven started with the basics, saying “Kayleigh. It is good to see you. Your timing could not have been better.” There were some nods among the generals at that, except for one who was staring a bit. Of course I can forgive him – it was my father.

I beamed at him “Hello Father!” 

He just stood a moment, taking in his daughter who seemed so different. “Have you grown taller, child?”

I just laughed. “No Father.”

“Changed your hair, perhaps?”

“No Father.”

“Perhaps something…. “ and he just trailed off. Aran’gel meanwhile was rolling his eyes a bit. 

I couldn’t help myself and quietly said to him “Listen, I’ve had to deal with your familiy all this time, I’m sure you can manage mine for a bit.” Then I got to enjoy the people pretending not to have heard that, since it’s not something many would say so casually. I looked over to Onselven to please tell us what had been going on and he obliged.

Onselven decided to reign things in a bit. “You have been in the Queen’s mind, but not in her eyes, if you take my meaning. However she did know of your return. You and your friends encountered the most violent of the ambush attacks, but it was not the only one. At most they have fielded only one of the dreadnaughts in any other encounter and we have had great difficulty with just that. As for the battle you joined, I suspect they were trying to kill Aran’gel. We can imagine no other reason that they committed two of those creatures.”

Interesting. Onselven went on to discuss the various aspects of the attacks – always hit-and-run, never near water. And without any apparent conventional objective. It’s more like guerilla warfare than anything. I continue to wonder what they are here for.

I asked if we could speak privately for a time, and Onselven obliged, dismissing the generals and the staffers. We told him of the ShadowTaker and the infilitration and agents. He said that they have suspected some people for some time but did not know who they were working for. He was also troubled by the marionettes. Bolo took time to Commune with Nature and scan the area for unusual presences. He found two entities in the camp itself. It was troubling news, but we lacked the proper spells to ferret out these intruders. It would have to wait til the morning.

But Bolo also discovered an incredibly powerful fey presence five miles to the north. While he went to investigate, Scorch and Valanthe took some time to check on the progress of Scorch’s guildmates. We split up for a time, and I stayed with Aran’gel and Onselven to discuss matters in detail.

Scorch and Valanthe had an interesting trip I learned later. While progress was going well on the guild activites, there were other problems. Valanthe was keeping an eye out for the Burning Skin, but instead discovered a creature called Esphathat - some kind of gibbering demon. Valanthe’s shadow blast once again was used to incredible effect, and they destroyed it handily. I’m not sure if this was some left over servant of the ShadowTaker or something else entirely. I was worried for a minute about them being attacked when alone, but then I realized who I was thinking about and that they could easily take care of themselves.

It was Bolo’s journey that proved to be more… I don’t suppose I really have a good word right now. It was a half hour or so after he left that Bolo called out to me on the scale, saying I should come there. Someone wanted to talk to me. He gave me quick directions and I set off in the air to where he had gone.

I landed in a quiet clearing that seemed worlds away from the conflict so close to it. Bolo was there, with another elf. 

Or not an elf. Not quite. It took me a moment to realize the creature was a Leshay. I had never seen one before but I was sure just the same. I said hello and just as Bolo was introducing the creature, he slowed then stopped completely. I turned back to the Leshay, who just looked ever so slightly confused, and then I turned my head farther, knowing what would be there. And I wasn’t disappointed. 

Olidamarra. 

The rogue pulled out a bottle of wine and then, with a gesture of “Stand back and watch this!” proceeded to hang the bottle in mid air.

Just above Bolo’s head. 

The Leshay was still uncertain why Olidamarra was here – he clearly seemed to know who it was, but had no idea what would make him suddenly show up. But Olidamarra was ready, and let time resume, and the bottle promptly bonked Bolo on the confused pate. Not really understanding, but not really needing to, he picked up the bottle and rubbed his head while he poured himself some wine. It seemed Bolo couldn’t perceive the rogue, and I was just trying not to laugh too much. Bolo wasn’t sure what was happening but he decided to leave us to our business and went off with the wine.

I turned to the Leshay, trying something less than my best to avoid giggling at Olidamarra. I wasn’t sure who this being was or if it was just an excuse of Olidamarra’s, but the way the Leshay was reacting made me believe he was a distinct and powerful entity of his own.

Trying to muster some reason, I said “Hello. You wished to speak to me?”

He looked serious again. “Yes I did. I wanted to discuss…” and then he gave up and wheeled on Olidamarra. “Look, can you just piss off?”

I giggled. And I knew what the answer would be. 

Olidamarra said “Hm…let me see... um… No. Just pretend I’m not here. Go ahead with what you’re doing.” And with that he offered me a glass of fine wine. And I took it – I could tell I was going to need it.

The Leshay gave up and just went on, trying his best to ignore the antics. “As I spoke to your companion, you have received one of the Marks. I see it has supplanted your Nock. It is past time you move on. You are more than a simple Champion now, and it is no mean feat to be a ‘simple’ Champion. If you are to protect your people, you must become something more. The Marks are a … a remnant of my people. You need to tap into your inner power. You need to become one with the weapon you wield if you are to deal with the abominations you have encountered of late. Within the borders of our lands I can sense anything that happens. And I felt the… things that the gith brought. We drove them out because of their dalliances in such matters. But now they have brought those things here and they must be removed.”

At once, I both knew and did not know this elf. I felt as one with him, empathized with him, and completely believed him. But I was at a loss as to who it was in a more conventional sense. For now though, I listened as he went on.

“I am not sure what moves the Githyanki. I sense another hand behind them. How convenient that all these things should come together at the same time. Some hand moves these things – a hand that does not like to be seen.”

I felt an idea in my mind and spoke. In looking back, perhaps it was unwise to do so in front of Olidamarra, but on the other hand I’m not sure anything is hidden from him anyway. “The Demon Prince of Deception has had a hand in some matters, in ways we have not fathomed. There is no reason to suspect him, but your description fits him all too well.”

He paused and thought on that a moment, perhaps exploring the idea. He was intrigued but it would need to wait. He turned to other topics. “I shall tell you what I told young Brandybuck – the seals on the Primals are weakening. Some of them will break. I am not sure what will happen then. The Primals predate even my race. Only the dragons remember. But they passed the lore to us and us to elfkind, but things become lost, and history forgotten. But the dragons know. There is one, the oldest of their kind, called The Silverring. He knows. He can tell you which of the Primals will be… well perhaps not allies, but of diminished threat. You must seek him out. He may be troublesome… he is a silver after all.”

I took a sip of my wine and replied casually. “Oh he is well known to me.” Then I corrected myself “Well, perhaps best to say he is known to me. One of my kind could likely never truly know him well. But I have had dealings with him. He will help if he can.”

The Leshay was surprised that I not only knew of the Silverring but spoke of him so casually. Olidamarra was just plain amused but kept fairly quiet, even during the serious bits. The Leshay went on. “The Primals are not good, they are not evil, they are beyond such concepts. They are… prime. They are pure in their way, but they could destroy us. Not all the primals will be unsympathetic to the world as it is now. There may be ways other than violence but I cannot say. Also it is possible that they could be… not so much destroyed as dispersed. But it would take a fantastic effort. One which you are not capable of unless you grasp the power you contain, the possibility that was sown within you. “

“I called you here to grant you a boon. You have brought things back to the prime, to the true world. Things that you have considered I think to use as part of your power. I caution you: Do not use them. I have brought you a gift that is more appropriate.” With that he handed me a branch. The branch looked as if it had just been cut from the tree, and the wood still felt alive, and yet pulsed with a power I have rarely seen. I held it a moment, then looked at the Leshay. He was right – we had picked up a significant amount of vitaesis and isometril, and I was planning on using them in the crafting of a new bow. But this…

He explained “The First Ash asked that I give this to you. It is of the First Ash. The World Tree. Imbue it with your power. Learn well the lessons you need to craft it. This can craft the finest bow that will ever have been made, for no other wood exists like this wood. Wood from the first tree that ever took root on the prime. When you have forged your weapon, keep every last shaving, every piece. I would prefer you return them to me so I may seed them around the One Ash. Or if for some reason you cannot find me, give them to young Brandybuck and let him plant them as he sees fit. But they must not fall into improper hands. If you use those things from the other places, make only arrows from them. *Never use them in the bow.* You may put other items of this world in the bow, but they must be of this world. Anything else would dilute the power. Make the bow here, in our lands, and it shall serve you well.”

He had said what he came to say. Done what he came to do. He waited, knowing I would have questions. I phrased my first carefully.

“You have given me a gift beyond words. You and the World Ash. But I know it is no ‘gift’. It is a tool. Something that I may protect our people. And with it I shall. But you…while I feel I know you, at the same time I must ask. Who are you?”

He smiled. Olidamarra jumped around and raised his hand, shouting “I know! I know! Pick me!” We ignored him. “I am Solostarn. I am the first Champion. It was I that passed the potential of the Champions on, spread the seed if you will. I have gone beyond that now, but I still have limitations. I am sworn by duty to this land, bound to it. Not the way the druid would think but it a way not entirely dissimilar. It is why this concerns me so. The death of ten, a hundred, a thousand elves is no great moment to me. But the Gith… they anger me. There are too many events too close together for mere conincidence. Since I know it is of interest to you I should mention – I know the animus passed through near here briefly. I know not where he went. He was heading towards the mountains, bringing all manner of unnatural beast with him but I cannot say if he came out on the other side.”

“When the time is right, seek your Queen. She will take you to the binder. It will unlock your power for you. There may be another way, but I know that one will work. Because when you see through the binder, when you sense all of Celene the way your Queen does, that which is inside you will be brought forth. You cannot be a Champion of your people until you _feel_ all of your people.”

I looked at him and softly asked “Did you walk this path?”

“Aye, I did, long ago." I couldn't even guess at how long, but it was some comfort all the same.

"It is time for me to go. Should you need to speak to me, come to this place and linger for a time, and I will know. I will offer what knowledge I can. Within Celene’s borders I know much. Outside, I am more limited. You should understand that you have exceeded all but a few of your fellows. Few have reached these heights. You and your friends are beings of… concern to greater powers. One day, if you survive the journey, you may learn to summon energies from your soul. When you do this, you will have no need of the items you craft, though they will always hold some power. Each of your companions was chosen by the dragons for a reason. I’m sure now you can see why.”

Indeed I could. I was strangely quiet in that clearing. I can’t say why. It wasn’t awe, though I had no end of respect for the first Champion. Perhaps I knew I just needed to listen. But he had spoken, and I had marked him well. I knew what I had to do. Even so, I found knowing that he had walked the path before me to be of comfort.

Of course there was still Olidamarra. Why, one wonders. I wondered. And I asked. “So what brings you here?”

The rogue was oddly evasive, even for him. He rambled on through unconnected thoughts. Or they seemed that way, but there was deep meaning behind that chatter. “Oh I wanted to see the fireworks, but I guess I’ll just have to wait until you reach into the binder, and grab the djinn by his willie or whatever happens. Did you know I can see, oh, thirteen days into the future? But did you know I can’t see the _exact_ future?”

I just waved my glass absently at him. He was going somewhere while trying to sound like he was saying nothing, and the best thing to do was let him. He spent several minutes rambling about a “causality loop” illustrated with a charming example of smacking Bolo on the head. 

“Let’s say I know someone is going to smack Bolo in the back of the head. And I tell you. So what do you do?” 

I just looked at him blankly and he quickly went on “Ok let’s just pretend you’d stop them rather than just point and laugh. But now you stopped them and it didn’t happen, so what did I know about the future?”

I didn’t quite follow him but I understood just enough to realize that if he told me the future, I could change it and then he’d be wrong. Add in the fact that all the gods can see ahead and it gets complicated.

But he wasn’t done. “Let’s say Orcus comes to the prime….”

I stopped him. “Orcus?!? Is Orcus coming to the prime??”

“Erm…no…um….I meant… uh… Pelor! Yes. Let’s say Pelor is coming to the prime. I never said Orcus. Not me. Didn’t happen. And of course, it may or may not even happen.”

“Oh of course,” I replied. “Pelor. Got it.” This was bad. Olidimarra was worried. Worried enough to take action that was probably not within the rules of the game somehow. But I got his hint well enough. Or at least I think I did.

Bolo had returned but couldn’t follow the conversation at all. He finally asked what was happening, and I remarked that Olidamarra was here.

“Here?!? EEEP!” he squeaked. And Olidamarra saw his chance. He appeared before Bolo as a thirty foot tall divine being, power shining forth from all around him. The great masked face laughed and called down “BOLO! RECEIVE MY BLESSINGS!” And then he took his finger and put it in his mouth and made sure to roll it around so it was good and wet. And then he took the great finger, and as Bolo stood motionless, stuck it in his ear.

And wriggled it around. Then with a crack of thunder, he disappeared.

Even Solostarn laughed at that.

Bolo was stunned and reeled. His mind was clearly overwhelmed by the shock of the “blessing”. I supported Bolo and sat him down. Solostarn just bowed and I smiled back at him, and mouthed a silent “Thank you”. The first champion smiled and faded into the woods.

Bolo took a minute to regain his wits. I asked him what happened, and he started rambling quickly, starting from when he first came to Solostarn. I had to hold him stead at times because he was dazed and his animated story almost took him off the rock a couple times.

“He told me he came for two reasons the Primals the seals are weakening he said I had to bring all the druids to me and I said to me? and he said not all of them are destroyed you see some were not part of the councils and they live on druids are an independent lot you know he said I must seek the council of the First Ash it will help me call them.”

Bolo just kind of kept nodding and nodding, somehow getting stuck there. So I asked “What was the second reason?”

“Oh! He asked how long I was going to limit myself the Mark of fire and all of them they’re of his people he said I can tap unseen forces. What was I waiting for? That’s what he asked me and I said… well that is to say… well eventually I just stopped saying and did it I suppose. I felt the power flood into me, the warmth, the green.”

I was just happy he was recovering enough to put pauses between his sentences. 

“But I have to be careful – I can’t lose myself. And then I called you.”

“Let’s get back to camp,” I said. “It’s been a day of discovery. For both of us.”

While we were off with assorted elder beings, Dravot was having an encounter of his own. It seemed that everyone was taking their chance to talk to their agents. Several humans had approached Dravot asking him to lead a service for the faithful. Dravot’s light shadow was somewhat disturbing to most folk, but the faithful took it as a sign of divine favor. And they were not far from wrong. Dravot was also approached by another man. He wore penitent’s robes and no shoes, but even the lack of wings did not prevent Dravot from realizing it was Aylwn, the solar with whom he had often talked.

“Events are in transition,” he told him. “You have inadvertently set off a chain of events which are… difficult. It has not come to war yet. But it may. The interdiction on travel violates… well not precisely ‘laws’ but there are certain tacitly agreed-to rules that the greater powers, such as our Lord, obey. Certain lines have now been crossed. The only deities allowed to function for any length of time on this plane are the ones that are native to the plane. When a god reaches a certain level of power, they must leave. That is why Iuz has not increased his power – he fears he will be removed. But our availability will be somewhat constrained in the near future. I shall aid you when I can but you cannot directly communicate with Pelor now. Should you have need, contact me and I shall serve as your conduit.”

Dravot nodded taking this in. It did not shake his faith at all – indeed I would guess it just reinforced it.

“We have an agent in Tu’Narath,” Aylwyn added. (It is a githyanki stronghold I learned later.) “When I gain further knowledge of Zera’s brother, I will advise you. I do not expect he is in immediate danger. He will most likely be held prisoner until the Lich Queen can turn her attention to him. He is a soul powerful enough to warrant consumption eventually and then be turned into something foul. I shall do what I can to make sure this does not come to pass. While the Githyanki are concerned here, I do not think Zara will be in danger. But if you turn them back, then his need will be more urgent. Consider this well. For now, I shall be your conduit. Should you need to call one of my brethren, seek only those slightly less powerful than I. The higher host cannot aid you, not now. We stand on the head of a matchstick.”

Dravot asked the most immediate question “Who is responsible for the interdiction?”

Aylwyn thought carefully. “I suspect there may be more than one being. One who caused it and one who enacted it. I don’t think they are the same. I think a Prince of the Abyss cooked up the plan but another is executing it. It’s all part of some plan. You may have been used to remove the ShadowTaker from the board – one less piece in this bigger game.”

Dravot just sighed. He hated being used but he couldn’t regret destroying the old worm. The solar continued. “You may find in the days to come that the divine gifts you request may be modified. We may grant you something that may prove necessary in what comes.”

Aylwyn’s tone grew even more serious, if that was possible. “I must caution you. We may soon be forced to do something in the near future that may be startling. If such a thing occurs, understand that everything will turn out for the best. Trust to faith. There is a plan. I should also warn you – you may receive other kinds of visitors. They may try to threaten you or convince you of other things. They may seek to tempt you.”

Dravot offered his thanks for Pelor’s blessings and said he would be ready to do Pelor’s will, whatever it may be.

Night came, and we enjoyed a fine dinner. It’s not that the food was exceptional – it was army food after all. But it was home. It reminded me of the Hateful Wars, and though there is little I look fondly on from those days, the companionship of my people is one of them. We ate with the officers in a large mess tent, and it was a somewhat festive evening. After all, there was a major victory, there were tales to tell, and fallen heroes to celebrate. It was a homecoming in a way I wouldn’t have guessed. It felt real and honest and simple, and I enjoyed every minute of it. The troops of the various armies had a wide range of reactions and it was fascinating to watch. Aethramyr is a folk hero among the elves – he was recognized and saluted by everyone who passed him. And well they should – he is worthy of their respect. The humans were equally overcome by Dravot and Thorkeld and Zera. To them, he was Pelor’s will made manifest and I don’t doubt that’s true. Bolo… well nobody was sure what to make of him. He looks like an elf, but doesn’t quite act like one. Even with his eccentricities, there was one or two who approached him. Perhaps they seek to follow the old path as he does – the old religion is strong with the elves. Scorch was viewed with a mix of awe and confusion. So many mages had blown themselves to bits that I think some people half expected Scorch to implode at any moment. But I did catch him and Onselven chatting in a corner at one point, animatedly discussing some magical property or another.

Valanthe was hardly noticed at all. She moved among the crowd without drawing a stare or comment. It’s not that she was unseen – more that she was just unnoticed. People’s eyes seemed to gaze past her, not noticing her at all. She was becoming more like a shadow in that respect all the time. I would have preferred to seen her have her cheers, but I suspect she was more comfortable this way.

And as for me, I have never seen a night like this one. Everyone knew who I was, and it was in a way unsettling. (I began to see why Valanthe was enjoying her anonymity.) There were cheers and toasts, and the troops were saluting or bowing any time I was around. I held no military rank, but it didn’t matter to them. Even my father seemed a bit overwhelmed by his daughter. He just was acting a little oddly, even earlier in the command tent. I asked him what was wrong.

“Well, I guess it’s not every day I dine with The Queen’s Arrow.”

I blinked. Twice. “Excuse me?”

“That’s what they’re calling you dear. The soldiers, the bards, the courtiers. You’ve got quite the reputation, and after today’s battle, well....”

“The Queen’s Arrow?” I asked, not sure what to think. Well, I guess it could be worse. Sounded nice actually. And it wasn’t as if I didn’t have enough other things to worry about. “But Father you seem uncomfortable with all this. I didn’t ask for it – I just did what needed doing.”

“Oh no, my dear, don’t misunderstand. I’m very impressed with you, and very proud. You’ve advanced the family’s military tradition beyond anything I might have imagined and still maintained your independence. Not to mention our reputation for… unpredictability. I couldn’t be more pleased. Your mother… well she worries about the path you’ve taken, but she would never say so.”

I nodded “Well tell her I’m well and I miss her when you see her. And what about my… relationship with Aran’gel? Are you content with that as well?”

He stopped for a moment and didn’t know what to say. Carefully he finally said “Well, I suppose it’s not something I would have expected, but I can hardly say he’s a bad choice. If it makes you happy, then it makes me happy. You know among all the other things you have done (real or not), you have brought the Queen and her son back together. Do not underestimate the worth of that. It means more to a parent than you can know.”

“Yes, well they can both be rather stubborn. It only took a few wars to bring them to terms.” I giggled and we went to lighter subjects.

After dinner, our group separated to various quarters that had been provided. The humans from the Uleks were honored to have Dravot among them, and the rest were put in assorted tents. I was fairly sure I’d find hospitality in Aran’gel’s tent while we were here. Not a terribly private setting but better than nothing.

When we were alone, I told him of Solostarn. It was the first chance I’d had since returning from the clearing. The news stunned him into near silence. He knew the stories of the First Champion but for me to have met him…. I told him what Bolo told me of his conversation with Solostarn about the Primals. It was disturbing news, and something he should know. 

I showed him the branch from the First Ash. He held it in his hands, but didn’t know what to say. I told him of the path before me, and his eyes looked upon me in a whole new light. I decided I didn’t entirely approve of this stupor, so I kissed him to get his attention back. That worked rather well. But there was another question.

“Tommorow,” I told him “I plan to go to the palace, as Solostarn said. I must cross this threshold. I was hoping you would come with me.” I winced a little – I wasn’t sure how this would go over.

He just laughed. “I would be happy to. My mother and I have come to terms, thanks to you. She accepts you, you know. In many different ways.”

“Well it’s about time,” I said. “The two of you can be so stubborn.”

He laughed again “Oh wait! There was something about a pot and a kettle…what was it….” I threw a pillow at him, which seemed an appropriate answer. “But I have one condition,” he added. “If I go with you, I will have absolutely positively NOTHING to do with the ‘fey mysteries’.” 

I laughed. “Done!” 

And we enjoyed some quiet time together.



At least until later that night. Valanthe awakened us over the scales (for those that were actually asleep at any rate.) She had found a dead body, freshly murdered. She had managed to tail the killer for a moment but it was a shapeshifter and managed to lose her in the thousands of troops around the camp. Surely the unnatural presence that Bolo had detected. I was becoming more and more glad that he had the wisdom to commune with the area. In the morning, when we had the right spells ready, we would deal with this intruder.

And then I would return to the palace, and become.


----------



## WizarDru

Duo'ar licked his lips. His split tongue tasted the air, sampling it's heady scents. A rage of aromas washed over him: cookfires, animal dung, flowering trees and elf-sweat. The primers ability to smell was incredibly limited. Absentmindedly, he let his form bloat, his head becoming huge. He looked like an odd caricatures of an elf, reflected in a fool's mirror. He wondered idly if he could find a way to devour an elf without anyone noticing.

His head twisted around and then snapped back like rubber as his brother struck him with an open-handed slap. Anyone who would have seen it would have found it comical...unless they had realized the force of the blow was strong enough to dent iron. For his part, Duo'ar found that it made his cheek smart.

"_What? Why do you hit me? Why?_", he babbled.

His brother, also wearing the form of an elf, but with the proper proportions. He looked bookish (but weren't all elves frail and bookish?) and stood, intent on the long staff he bore. Looking again, no doubt. He had taken the staff from the body of the elf who's skin he now wore, and it had proved a powerful aid to their chosen profession.

"_Dolt_", came the quiet but intent rebuff, "_this requires concentration. I see dozens of places, all at once, and I maintain my form without effort. You smell blood and can barely maintain yours. When will you learn?_"

Dau'or the Elder was nothing if not precise. If his younger brother was undisiplined, he was planned chaos. And chaos was what he did indeed plan.

"_We are not the only ones who stalk this place. There is another, though he is protected. I cannot see him, this killer. He murders at random, I think._"

"_I like that, brother. Perhaps we can infect him?_"

"_Fool. He may be a threat to us. He must walk with impunity throughout the camp...he must be another skinwalker."_

_"Like us, brother?_"

"_There are none of our kind here, brother."_

"_But there can be, Elder. We could make it so._"

The being who was not an elf shuddered. His look one of consternation.

"_Yes. Yes, you are right, for once._"

"_I am?_", asked the Younger, equally suprised at the notion.

"_The newcomers have made life...interesting. Let us make things interesting for them. Summon our idiot cousins, after the camp is shrouded in darkness. We shall sow our birthright among them._"

"_I wish to eat the Druid."_

"_(sigh). As you wish, dolt. But don't swallow him....he'll get stuck in your throat."_

They both agreed that there was wisdom in that notion.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Kalten looked into the darkness ahead. As the giant beetles raced forward, jostling their passengers to and fro, he couldn't help but wonder where they were headed.

Sometimes his grandfather told him little, more due to his distractions than any intent to decieve. Father was near, but he chose to ignore him. The thing his father had become. Kalten shivered, as if a dead man could feel the chill of winter. He wondered if the gnolls were cold. You never could tell, but he thought they might be.

In truth, they probably just hated the darkness here, and the strange form of transportation. He agreed, but had to admit, it was an efficient system, if terrifying to any sane or rational being. His experienced had taught him, though, that the Drow were neither.

"_Where are you, Dravot?_", he wondered for the thousandth time. If his younger brother were dead, he or his grandsire would know...he was *sure* of it. But time was running short, and he needed his brother or it was all in vain.

And then, almost as if he had planned it, a message came.

"_Soon now, grandfather..._" he thought, "_soon._"


----------



## WizarDru

Once more, our readership is invited to join with me in a collective brain-storming session.  You can find the thread way over here in the Rogues Gallery, where my players are kindly requested to avoid our discussions, as there will be some signifcant spoilers.

Those who rather avoid such spoilers (which may or may not come to pass as the story develops) had also best avoid the thread.

Cheers!


----------



## Zad

*Shadows Rise and Shadows Fall - Chapter 4*

*Shadows Rise and Shadows Fall - Chapter 4*

*OOC Notes:*
Exp for Chapter 3 is 2000. Chapter 4 will be stated later.

*Loot:*
Dagger, +2 keen ghost touch shocking (50,300 mv)
Pouch of unidentified dust
Gloves of dexterity +2 (4,000)
Bracers of Armor +4 (16,000)
Potion of bull’s strength
Potion of cat’s grace
Potion of cure moderate wounds

*This Week’s Adventure:*
In the morning, at a time too early for my tastes, there was a few quick claps outside Aran’gel’s tent. (Lacking any doors on which to knock, this was the usual method of requesting entry.) The runner outside said he had urgent news, and Aran’gel and I hesitantly collected our wits.

When we were ready, we bade him enter, and he gave his report. There had been two murders during the night. Also, a good number of pack animals had been gruesomely slaughtered. Something killed them silently and ripped apart their bodies. However it did not seem that they had been eaten. After some prodding, he also reported that the men continue to tell stories of ghostly eyes about camp, but the runner was sure this was nothing more than idle camp talk.

We quickly conferred on the scales and set into motion. There was a long list of things to do, and we got started. Bolo again spread out his consciousness searching the camp and surrounding area for unusual presences. Meanwhile Aran’gel and I went to find Dravot to tend to the matter of his hand.

We found him with the human faithfuls, just completing the morning rituals. He had graciously prepared the proper spell at my request, and was ready to restore then limb. Since we had his true hand, it took only a few moments and Aran’gel was whole again. With no small amount of closure as well I’m sure. The other worshippers of Pelor of course considered this another divine sign, and Dravot just smiled and shrugged. I’m sure if he scratched his ear, that would be a sign too.

Just then Bolo reported in. He had found six extraplanar creatures in the camp. Two of them were more powerful than the others. Bolo joined us and called on the blessings of the Green to give my eyes the true sight, and Valanthe and I spread out looking for the creatures hidden in camp.

I had taken the precaution of disguising myself as a normal looking elf, to avoid panicking our quarry. I was scanning quickly towards a general area where Bolo had sensed the presences, when Valanthe noticed something. It took her a moment to realize that there was an elf that I had just went by that I did not seem to notice. We conversed quickly and sure enough, there as an elf walking along that she and everyone else could see, but I could not. It took us a moment to understand it but we both got the same idea at the same time – this creature was hidden from divinations and I could not see it at all.

This itself was suspicious enough for me. Valanthe and I spoke quickly to let me gauge its location – it didn’t have to be exact, but just close. A few arcane words and a cloud of gold dust erupted in the air, and the spy was now exposed. I’d hoped this would also negate its shape-changing as well – the gold dust would be reveal it regardless of shape.

Before it could do anything else, Valanthe used a scroll to anchor it to this plane, preventing escape by teleportation. Meanwhile the others were closing in on our location. But then the creature did something I hadn’t really expected – it ran. It tried to get between some tents but we were in an open area and it had too much distance to cover. When it had some room though, it used a scroll and tried to remove the enchantments on itself. Rather than risk it escaping, I opened fire. This creature was a skilled spy and infiltrator, but it could not withstand a full volley, and it collapsed immediately. It reverted to what I assume was its natural shape – it seemed to be the creature we encountered in the ShadowTaker’s lair – the one that broke the mirrors with a thunderstone. It gasped “The bargain… must be kept,” and rolled over in a pool of its own ichor and died. Something then snapped out of the body, but instead of being drawn by a red cord, it simple rose into the air higher and higher til it disappeared.

I wish I knew what to think about this. There was an unspoken assumption that the “bargain” involved the ShadowTaker, but the departure of this creature’s spirit made me wonder. 

But it was apparent that this was not the creature Bolo had detected. It had been protected from divinations so Bolo could not have sensed it, and he sensed multiple creatures in any case. So we resumed our search. As we spread out moving through tents in one section of the camp, Dravot heard a voice in his mind.

“Chaos bleeds. If you start a fight here, we will kill as many of these creatures as we can. We won’t just kill your kind. We’ll kill as many as we can, as quickly as we can, and then leave.”

Dravot replied “Only cowards hide.”

The voice shot back quickly “We are not cowards! We are infiltrators.” As if that explained it.

Dravot was undeterred. “We will find you and we will kill you. Making your idle threats only shows how scared you are.”

No compromise was possible. With infiltrators in the camp, we were useless and exposed. In war, people die. I would rather it were not so, but if there was a price to removing these spies, then it would have to be paid.

At that moment to the south, I saw several elves come out of a tent. But they were invisible. In fact, the true sight revealed them for what they were – slaad. Two red, and two green.

Suddenly the destroyed livestock made sense. The slaad had increased their number by implanting the animals. The numbers became complete when two blue slaad came running from the tent and started moving to randomly attack elves in the area. And just as I was thinking to myself “Six slaad, this should be manageable if we can get to them quickly” the problem became apparent. A white slaad came out of the tent, carrying a staff. I don’t know much about slaad, but I was sure that wasn’t good.

Bolo floated down, in air elemental form. He spoke a single word and the air rippled. The wave crashed over the blue and green slaad, all of which were nearby, and the green itself came together and squeezed them from the very earth itself, ejecting them from the plane. It was an excellent move and turned things in our favor.

Until a second white slaad came out. I felt a sudden urge to go back to bed.

One of the whites tried to slay Aethramyr, but the spell did not take hold. Aethramyr banked near one of the red slaad and casually reached out with Shatterspike and removed the creature’s head. 

Dravot’s expression had changed to what I’ve started thinking of as his “Living Saint” look. Standing in the field in the morning sun, he called on Pelor’s might, and a ray of sunshine landed on one of the white slaad. It froze for a moment, then vanished, replaced with a thin cloud of dust. I just stared, and nodded.

Scorch, who was floating nearby, flickered. He disappeared from where he was and was now a good distance away. There was no teleportation used that I could see, but it all made sense soon enough. Around the remaining white slaad, there was a cacophony that almost tore open space itself. Fireballs and sonics detonated on top of the slaad in fast succession, shaped into a perfect cone. Scorch had stopped time itself and layered waves of explosions on top of the slaad, and it was none too pleased. It rose from the smoke but it had suffered from the fires. 

Valanthe was on top of the remaining red slaad, and it went down in a heap. That left only the white, and I fired a full volley at it. But the tough hide of the creature turned aside almost every arrow. But its hide could not save it from Pelor’s might, and Dravot again invoked his diety’s power to cleanse the Prime, and the slaad was gone.

We searched further but the camp now seemed free of any other unwelcome presences. Bolo had been injured by the slaad – the spit clung to him and kept eating at him, but once tended to, he was fine.

Now that the camp was secured, we tended to some other matters. Dravot sent out several magical messages. The first was to his animus brother Kaltin. “We have slain the ShadowTaker. How is your situation?”

The reply came “Good. That will weaken the shadows. In underdark, using transports of Drow. Plan in place. Meet me in ten days at Greyhawk temple front steps.”

Then he sent something to Zara. Zira had been worried about her brother since our return, and this would help calm her and let Zara know he was not abandoned. “We know of your situation. Githyanki are all over the Prime. We will rescue you soonest possible.”

Zara’s reply was slow but came. “Glad all are safe. Not hurt. Pelor guides us all.” Dravot’s voice trailed off as he spoke the reply. I suspect there was more but Dravot kept it to himself.

Dravot also used one of Pelor’s mightiest divinations to locate Rackhir. He was hoping to determine if the prisoners of the ShadowTaker had all landed together or not. He saw Rackhir, tightly shackled to a metal wall, barely moving. Zara was next to him. They were still on the astral brig “The Queen’s Will.”

We had accomplished a great deal, and all before lunch. But there were still more important matters to deal with. Aran’gel and I would go to the palace in Celene, while Dravot would visit Ekbir with Zira and see her father the Caliph. 

Aran’gel and I arrived in a location rather unlike what I was imagining when I teleported us. We had been redirected to a secure room, and were promptly scrutinized by any number of guardsmen, priests, and sages. They went through a number of sensible precautions (some of which I noted for our own use later) and we were eventually cleared to leave the chamber. As we walked through the palace, I noticed it was largely empty of courtiers and assorted hangers-on. Only runners and couriers darted through the halls. We moved up one tower heading for the war room in which the Queen was tending to the affairs of the nation. We had to go through yet more security before being allowed to enter, but finally stood in the converted library. 

There was a large table with a hollow in the center, and countless maps around, magical and otherwise, describing the situation. The Queen was pacing around the map table constantly, and barking commands as she went. She saw us approach and motioned for us to wait just a moment while she dispatched several runners. She then bade us approach and I curtsied before my monarch while Aran’gel just looked around idly at the maps. The Queen waved me up, and I greeted her.

With protocol satisfied, we exchanged information. I informed her of the fall of the ShadowTaker and the slaad infestation at camp. She briefed me on her view of the situation. Then after staring at me for a time in silence, she asked a different question.

“I sensed the presence of… another, near the camp. I have not sensed him in a very long time.”

I answered quietly. “Yes, Majesty. Solostarn was there. Among other reasons, to speak with me.”

The Queen nodded. “I see. Did he tell you it was time?” When I nodded in reply, she said “Very well. Let us go to the chamber.”

We moved down to the chamber beneath the throne room, just the three of us. The Queen offered no advice or preamble – she did not think any was necessary. We approached the binder, and I stepped close. As I did, the rings began spinning faster and faster, becoming a blur nearly invisible, while the half-form of the djinn prince hovered inside.

And I stopped. Slowly I looked to my left, then to my right. Aran’gel looked at me questioningly, and I simply mouthed an “O” to him. I had the sneaking suspicion I would turn to see Olidamarra, but he wasn’t in sight. So I turned back to the binder.

To see Olidamarra floating inside, behind the prince, holding up his fingers behind his head. I pointed to the side and talked like a mother scolding a child. “You. Get out here. Sit there. Over there. Yes. Now.” Olidamarra pouted a bit but did as asked. If the Queen noticed him, she said nothing about him. I suspect now that perhaps she’s known of his… observance for some time and was unconcerned. 

I addressed the form floating in the binder. “Prince Uufhez ben Daman, will you please show me my people?” The djinn’s eyebrow arched slightly at being addressed by name. Perhaps he was un-used to it after so long trapped. Truly I felt sorry for him, imprisoned here. In reply, he said nothing but held out his hands within the spinning rings.

Heedless of them, I reached inside the binder with my marked hand. There was a faint ring of energy around my wrist where it passed through the spinning rings, and I took the hands of Prince Uufhez. He clasped my hand, and the mark burned but the pain was nothing.

For a fraction of a second, I experienced what ever living elf in Celene was experiencing. Not only could I see what they saw, feel what they felt but I could feel all of Celene coursing through me, and through the Celenian himself. I felt their pain, their joy, their sorrow, their hate, and their love. The wave of perception crashed over me and it changed me forever. I can’t even begin to describe what happened – new currents flowed in me for the first time. It seemed to last for a month, but was over in a moment.

I collapsed.

I woke later in a bed a few hours later, Aran’gel sitting beside me. As I brought my hand to my face, I saw the archer’s nock had changed again – now it was an amalgam of the nock and the Mark of Fire. 

“Well, that was exciting. You know, I just got this back,” Aran’gel waved his hand and archer’s nock around “and you go and change yours. We’re not a matched set any more.”

“Well at least you’re rid of that metal thing,” I returned. 

We chatted for a time as I tried to take in the experience and absorb it into my conscious thought. When I had recovered we returned to the Queen.

She nodded as we entered, glad to see I was well but never really doubting it. She gave me a magical map of Celene showing things at a strategic level. We discussed some possible areas to attack the Githyanki, but was we did, my mind raced through the flood of perceptions. Given a few hours, I might be able to sort some of it out and then I would have a better understanding of the Githyanki positions, at least for a time. We could strike back. Soon.

As we prepared to leave, I gestured towards her and Aran’gel and said “And if you don’t mind me saying so, it is very nice to see the two of you together.”

The Queen just smiled, and drew close to me. “Just warn me if you are going to bring him around at the same time his brother is here. Oil and water those two.”

I laughed and nodded. “Of course, Your Majesty. Do you have any message for Onselven?”

“Yes,” she said after a moment. “Tell him next time he should _ask_ before he takes one of the Staves of Power.”

I laughed again, and we left the palace as we had arrived. No, not as we had arrived. I was a different girl. A changed girl. A new girl.

A few hours after Aran’gel and I returned to camp, the others returned from their Ekbir trip. Everyone looked fine, for the most part. Dravot looked quietly pleased, and Zira looked very happy. (This immediately struck me as odd, since while there was a certain attraction between them, circumstances had not let it progress beyond that yet.) But it was Scorch who seemed tense. He was jumpy and nervous and seemed to be shaking slightly. The next chance I got, I grabbed Zira, and empty tent and a bottle of wine and she told me what happened.

Getting to Ekbir was only a slight problem – Zira was able to key in on someone she knew by scrying, and Scorch teleported himself, Valanthe, Dravot, Zira and Thorkeld to the bazaar. The air was humid but not uncomfortable and was heavy with the scent of salt air and spices. Zira felt both happy and sad to be home again. There was some disruption and surprise at their arrival and some bit of fawning when a few people recognized their Princess, but it soon passed. Once Zira got her bearings, they started to shop around a bit. Dravot seemed impatient to just get to the palace and take care of business, but he quickly decided that just aimlessly shopping with Zira was pleasant enough. Scorch went off to haggle with some gem dealer and had far too much coffee for someone so un-used to it. Coffee was never something I drank much, but apparently in Ekbir it's very popular and brewed rather more strongly, and Scorch had quite a few cups during his bargaining.

Valanthe was floating around the bazaar unseen, and noticed some men watching the party. A few discreet inquiries (of their possessions) revealed them to be servants of the Caliph. Zira realized that it probably wouldn’t be long before they were “escorted” back to the palace so they finished their shopping and collected Scorch.

None too soon it seemed. Coming down the road were thirty men in burnished plate armor, the symbol of Pelor shining brightly on their breastplate as their pikes bobbed in perfect unison. Zira was in something of a coy mood, and they ducked into the Church of Pelor before the column reached them. The temple was a grand thing, done in bricks and covered in white plaster with gold work everywhere. The architectural centerpiece was a huge window with colored glass around the edges that would catch the morning sun brilliantly. The church was originally smaller but had been expanded over time into a grand structure. 

The faithful in the group approached the altar and prayed. Soon after they were done, a short squat man came out. His skin was tight and wrinkled. He bowed deeply to them all and introduced himself as Torack, chief priest of the city. Dravot spoke to him for a few minutes and offered them his tithing before they made use of an old tunnel to move unseen to the palace. Zira took no end of amusement at the thirty pikemen waiting outside the temple for them.

The tunnel brought them up through a cistern into an opulent storeroom. Apparently even dry goods need architectural delights in Ekbir. They ascended a large staircase into the main entryway and when the minor servants saw them, there was a great deal of welcoming and assorted groveling. They were escorted to a large chamber and their armor was taken to be polished and tended. (That explained why they all came back lookin so… shiny.)

A feast began immediately for the return of the Princess. Around the fourth course, Zira’s father arrived. The Caliph al’Sharazim of Ekbir greeted them warmly. He was a very tall man, over six feet seven, and was once fairly muscular. He wore a simple brown robe with a minimum of adornments, but his presence and personality made such things unnecessary.

The Caliph asked many questions about some of the tales he had heard recently. He did not press too hard for information – it would be rude as the host. But the Caliph is a subtle man, and asked questions that tended to subtly draw out what he wanted to know. For the most part Zira sat quietly as was proper for her in this circumstance.

When the second desert came and went, it was the signal that more serious discussions could take place. Dravot quickly grasped the nuances of protocol, and started on smaller topics. In time he moved to other more pressing matters.

(At this point Zira just sighed as she was telling me what happened. She looked upward and muttered “I should have said something to him first. But it would have been…odd.” I looked questioningly back at her over my wine, but she just waved it off and said “You’ll see,” and continued.)

“First off,” Dravot started “I have some good news and bad news about your son. The good news…” And Dravot trailed off, largely because Zira was starting at him with a look that said “NO NO NO NO NO!”

Dravot at least was clever enough to see the message if not understand it. He went another direction to buy time and see if he could get a sense of what Zira was waving him away from.

“Let me start from the beginning. The ShadowTaker is no more. He will no longer darken your lands. We did this for several reasons, but the curse was certainly one of them. Unfortunately curses are tricky things and this one did not break as we had hoped.” He was looking at Zira as he said this, hoping he was lying in the right direction. Zira did not object so he went on.

“The curse persists, but the place to which Zara goes has changed. He is being held by the Githyanki but we hope to rescue him very soon.”

Zira nodded slightly, and Dravot got away from the topic. They discussed the Githyanki situation for a bit before returning.

“I also have a boon to ask of you,” Dravot said. (Zira was getting more excited as she relayed the story.) “I would ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

(Zira was smiling uncontrollably at this point, and I joined her in that, and gave her a hug. I knew how much this would mean to her – she had resolved herself long ago to never being able to marry due to the curse. Then it hit me – the curse. Zira and I had talked often in our travels and I knew that one of the reasons she had the freedom she did was because of the curse – she was unmarryable and hence without duty or responsibility in the royal family. If the Caliph knew the curse was broken, she would be able to be married. This would make the Caliph consider Dravot’s request in an entirely different light. As it was now, her father would agree easily, and that was why Zira did not want Dravot to mention the breaking of the curse until after the proposal. Of course I could see why that would be somewhat tricky to warn him about.)

The Caliph pondered for only a moment, so as not to seem over-anxious, and then gave his agreement. His daughter would marry. Zira managed to keep her composure and hide her relief. Scorch strangely just sat in the corner drinking coffee from a strange copper machine. And the Caliph ordered another feast.

When they returned to the elven camp, Zira took Dravot aside for a quiet conversation.

“I’m sorry I was… I mean that I… well…” she started.

Dravot laughed. “I understand. Now at least. I’m glad it worked out well. You are pleased I hope?”

Zira didn’t answer. Not verbally anyway. She just stepped closer and rose up on her toes and kissed him for a very long time.


----------



## Aethramyr

*Lessons.*

One Chapter Ends, another begins. 

The Shadow taker is killed, and the Githyanki fill in the gap to take his place. More people need help, and speaking for myself I am glad we give it. In this case, it is in Celene where our aid is required. But not right this moment, so I stop to write some more. 

One ending that has occured is that I have fullfilled my Primary Duty to My goddes of dreams. We managed to secure some journals from the Shadowtaker's Lair, and After that foul creature's death, we managed to have some small time to study them. To my shock and amazement, it was he who ordered the destruction of Menalden, the town of my birth, and sent Tean the clearcut to destroy it! The cursory reading did not unearth his reasoning, and at times I wonder if the whisperings that I was the true target of the attacks are true. If someone performed divinations for the shadow taker, or he did them himself, and they indicated I was fated to slay him, it does have all the ear-marks of a self-fulfilling prophecy. 

When we have time, I need to devote more time to studying the book. But That night, I went dream-walking to her castle. She knows all that happens to her devoted, and certainly knew the news I brought to her already. But there were rituals that were necissary, mostly for my benifit, and another of her followers who was transcribing the account. When I was finished, She spoke. I confess her exact words are lost to my memory, For what happened next stirred my mind up quite a bit. All at once I could feel her pride in her servant - the pride she felt at each foe struck by my sword, each time a life saved, each burdened I eased in her service all flowed through her into me, and I felt empowered. The two marks I have each became visable, the mark of fire on my hand and earth on my forehead, and glowed brighter with each second. Then a spark of ignited inside of me, creating a flame of power that began burning away some previously unfelt barrier. There was pain, an intense pain, but a pure pain - it's hard to describe. It's like being cut with a sword during practice. It hurts, but it's a pain you excpect, you accept. It's a pain you learn from. And when it was done, when the barrier was finally burned away, I learned a lot. I knew how much farther my potential was, but more Importantly, I learned how to travel that road. 

After that, I no longer had the strength or focus to continue dream-walking, and scene faded as all dreams do. The last I recall was the realization that, While I have faith in her as do all who serve a diety, I felt a small portion of the amount of faith she had in me.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Bolo opened his eyes and saw the grove of the First Ash. He was still holding on to the vibration of the green when it all happened... Bolo would never be the same.


----------



## Zad

For the readers: We're playing tomorrow (Friday) so expect an update. 

You know, I really look forward to this game. I do plenty of things for fun, and they're all great. But I look forward to every single session of this game, and I really enjoy it thoroughly. I spend time thinking about it during the week, I write up stories about it, and generally just love the hell out of it every time I get the chance to be an elf girl for a while.  My character has grown from a level 1 fighter up to an epic level arcane archer, and it's been fantastic.

In part, I'm telling you all this so you get a sense of how fun this game is. But mostly I'm saying something that doesn't get said often enough - Thank You. This game is the highlight of my week because Wizardru makes it so. He puts a lot of time, energy, and work into it, and I benefit from it. So I'll say it again.

Thank you Wizardru.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Zad said:
			
		

> Thank you Wizardru.



I have to agree with that sentiment. Wizardru has always been the best storyteller I know. I really miss it when we don't play. 

Thanks Wizardru!


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## WizarDru

I conside myself extremely lucky to have such talented and enthusiastic players.  It's all about having fun, and sharing a common story.  It only takes a brief glance at the General RPG forum to reveal how many DMs have difficult decisions to make with their players, and how good it is to have a group that groks what I'm trying to do and gives me a big incentive to keep at it.

Last night's game can summarized in two words:

Githyanki.  Smackdown.

Or you could just use the words '*Ouch*' and '*DAMN*'.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*Bolo and the First Ash.*

Bolo had waited until his friends had all gone on their way before he left instructions for Sylivan the Elven ranger to keep an eye on the shambling mounds that now were Bolo’s constant bodyguards. Where he was going only the Druid and Tailcatcher could go. Bolo spoke words more ancient then even the elves themselves and saw the ash tree open to him. He has traveled through the roots of the trees before and while he loved the feeling normally Bolo was to distracted to feel the rush of the Green as he passed through. The pull of the First Ash was unmistakable and Bolo had to keep this meeting. 

Ever since his meeting with Solostarn Bolo had felt the need to center himself. In the few scant months he had been with Gelban’s champions he had had his entire world uprooted and despite the new body Bolo was a Halfling on the inside and had a hard time adjusting to it all. He had died twice, been born again twice, been to see his goddess on her own plane, fought terrible creatures of immense evil and accomplished astounding feats he had never thought to do. He had been some fantastic places and seen wonders his family could never imagine. On top of all of this was the fact that he is a descendant of Dydd one of the greatest of Halfling heroes and a grand Druid. Now was a time for rest and contemplation. Celene will be safe without him for one night, besides Tailcatcher deserved a rest. His faithful companion was just not suited for the life Bolo lead and it was showing more and more. 

As the Trip through the trees ended Bolo and Tailcatcher stepped out of an Ash tree near the hillock where the First Ash could be found. As they walked up the path they soon realized that the immense trees lining the path were not just ancient trees but Elder Treants. Trees of such age that they predate the humanoid races entirely. Bolo bowed to them as he passed and said in sylvan how much a pleasure it was to be in their company. As he crested the hill he saw a sapling not much more then 5’tall but is was the First Ash. The first tree to come to the barren Oerth. As he hesitantly drew closer he saw a maiden step out from the body of the sapling. She was the loveliest woman Bolo had ever seen. She was dressed in just about nothing but a strange skirt made of some form of Palm fronds but as Bolo drew closer she pulled a length of the palms stem and it whipped away from her waist and hardened into a weapon of some sort. 

“Who are you and why have you come here?” the Dryad asked in Sylvan. Bolo said quite mildly “I’m Bolo Brandybuck. I have come to hear the wisdom of the First Ash.” 
She twisted the stem she was holding and the weapon was once again a skirt. “Bolo. I did not recognize you since last we met.” Bolo was puzzled for he did not remember ever being to the First Ash before and he surely would have remembered such a creature as she. “I was reborn and have some memories that are no longer there. I apologize for not remembering you….” He trailed off hoping she would say her name. “I’m Alara.” She said, “The first tree will speak with you now.” 

Alara reached down to the roots of the First Ash and pulled up a tuber. “Eat this. It will open you up to the wisdom of the first tree.” Bolo wanted to make a joke about hearing that line before but kept his mouth shut opening it only to bite into the tuber. Bolo immediately felt the world shift around him and he could see what had been invisible to him before. He an Alia were conduits. Bridges between the Green and the meat that walked the planet. He could see the link between himself and the First Ash. Then Bolo simply let the voice of the First Ash wash over him like he was back in his mother’s womb. The ash spoke in feelings and concepts not words or pictures and Bolo was not able to understand much but he was told that there was an undead king who was creating a new empire of death and the living dead. He was shown a sword just like Aethramyr’s Shatterspike only this one was Purple and had been shattered into small pieces but a shadowy hand was rebuilding it and forging it into a different type of weapon. Bolo asked a few questions the first of these was “Great one, It seems I have been chosen to rebuild the Druidic order. What advice and or Aid can you provide me to help in my task?” The Ash sent back images that Bolo finally understood as the start of the new druidic council would start with him and his family. Bolo had been told by Ehlonna that his son Geo was safe and cared for, Bolo now understood why. He would have to create a family unit not a religion. The old ways were gone, and just as all life evolves so to must the druids and their ways. They are the symbols of all life, they must not be static or the world they wish to protect will pass them by. 
Bolo asked if there was some way to contact the other remaining Druids and two leaves fell from the Ash. One landed in Bolo’s lap and one stuck itself to the Ivy Ring of Beory that Ravenna had said the Earth Goddess wished Bolo to have. He took the leaf from his lap and placed it against his chest next to his heart. He instantly knew the leaf would always be alive and that he could use it one time per week to transport himself and others to the Grove of the First Ash. The last thing Bolo learned was not expected and it shocked him greatly at first. Bolo’s newest form was not exactly Elven. He was slowly transmuting into a Fae creature, even as he sat there submersed in the green he could feel himself becoming more focused. His mind grew stronger and the world seemed to tilt just a hair more in a different way as if Bolo were starting to see the world of the Faeries and how it connects to this world. 

Bolo had received all of the information that he was able to receive from the First Ash and let the connection slip away. He immediately felt weak and exhausted. He was suffering a side effect from the tuber and would need to spend the night in this grove to regain his strength but Bolo had to return to the Elven camp. With Kayleigh in Celene proper and Scorch, Dravot, Valenthe, Zira, and Thorkeld in Eckbir it left Aethramyr to defend the camp should the Githyanki return. So he pushed himself to his feat immediately regretted it and sat back down next to Alara. “I have a boon to ask my lady. Tailcatcher has been my loyal friend and my dearest companion but the traveling and danger is too much for him. May he stay here in the Grove?” 
Alara looked at the veteran war dog and smiled. “Yes Bolo he may stay.” 

With a long goodbye of belly scratches, Bolo made his way back along the green to the camp. There stood Sylivan handsome as an angel and the Shamblers were sleeping quietly in heaps along the riverbank. “Are you well Bolo?” Sylivan asked as he helped Bolo steady himself. “I’m fine. Just feeling a bit weak from the bonding with the First Ash. I’ll be well by morning.” Sylivan helped the Grand Druid back to the command tent where Kayleigh and her beau were swapping love looks over a battle map. Sometimes he thought he would never understand Elves, or Humans for that matter.


----------



## Zad

*Shadows Rise and Shadows Fall - Chapter 5*

*Shadows Rise and Shadows Fall - Chapter 5*

*OOC Notes:*
Experience for this and last session totals to 6050.

*Loot:*
Two staves of Necromancy, 10 charges ea (definitely a stave)
4 Rings of Protection +2
2 Cloaks of Charisma +2
+3 breastplate
+3 silver greatsword (i.e. githyanki silver sword)
Gauntlets of Ogre Power +2
Cloak of Resistance +3
Cloak of Resistance +5
Bracers of Armor +6
Gauntlets of Dexterity +4
Headband of Intellect +4
Scroll of Greater Dispelling caster level 15
Some masterwork Driftmetal broadswords
+1 unholy silver sword

*This Week’s Adventure*
While I was talking to Zira, Bolo went off to visit the First Ash. I wished him well and told him to thank the Ash for me. He returned some time later, a bit shaken and looking slightly ill but said he was fine and it would pass. He asked if Kargoth was returning – I said that as far as we knew Kargoth never went anywhere, but could he be referring to Orcus coming to the Prime? This tied in with what Bolo heard about the creation of a nation of undead – surely Rauxes. He also saw a vision of a purple crystal sword being reformed, in the hands of the Shadow King. This time it was not being forged as a sword, but something else (he couldn’t tell what). He said little else about what happened, and went to lay down. He seemed exhausted but well, so I just let him rest.

I myself went to meditate for a time in a quiet glade. I relaxed my mind and sorted through the fugue of perceptions that washed over me when I touched the Binder. I began to understand the exact order and timing of the Githyanki attacks. I saw the battle scenes from several angles. Eventually I was able to draw some conclusions. First, there were some elves on the brink of death at the moment I shared with them. But for some, I could feel that their souls were not merely moving on, but were in fact being drained into the gith swords. Were the gith stealing their souls? And why? Also, I clearly saw two different githyanki forces. Of the forces I saw, each had a dreadnaught with one of the black flame beings commanding, and each had at least one astral brig. But the force we fought back was easily the size of both of these put together, indicating that perhaps the gith were not as strong here as I had feared. The dreadnaughts I saw were moving much faster than the ones we had fought – terrifying in something so large.

There was another disturbing element that I finally picked out. At both battles, I saw one of the female enchanters, but it was the same one. The same one that we had killed in our battle. Githyanki do have some individually recognizable features and they are very fussy about their jewelry so there was no doubt that these beings were identical. I began to think that the Lich Queen was somehow copying this creature for her needs.

After understanding some of this, I found Aran’gel and Onselven to look at the maps and try to find a place to strike back. As we talked, we realized that there was not nearly enough food on the ships to feed the dreadnaughts. True they ate a few elves on the battlefield but not enough to sustain them. Either they were moving them back to the astral, or there had to be a supply base somewhere on the prime. After examining the maps and sorting through the wash of perceptions, we thought we could narrow it down to a twenty mile area where there was most likely a githyanki base. Of course that was more than enough. Bolo could commune with the green itself, and it would gladly reveal the location of the invaders. 

Before we broke up, one of the senior clerics of Corellian arrived with distressing news. The man had clearly just wiped the tears from his eyes as he came to report: they have not been able to raise some of the dead. The spirits are lost, and they cannot be returned to the bodies. With this information we re-examined some of the githyanki swords. Sure enough, some of them had a crystal dojore imbedded in the hilt. The crystal seemed to be some kind of psionic conduit. So the githyanki were stealing souls and sending them… where?

We would find out. We prepared and set off for the northwest end of Celene. We took only our company, and a squad of swiftrunners on the ground to report the results of the battle should we fall. The brig was unsteady at first but Valanthe quickly mastered it and we were skimming the treetops at a good speed and were near the area in under an hour. We hovered at the edge of the suspect area and had not yet seen any gith patrols. Bolo dropped to the ground and spoke to the green – our suspicion was right. There was a large camp of strange creatures nearby and now we knew where. There were some powerful unnatural creatures and about two dozen elves also in the camp.

At the speed the brig moved, we would be on them in minutes. Rather than try to evade the patrols, we would simply charge straight into their camp. We prepared ourselves for war. Arcane and divine protections cascaded over us in waves, and Bolo summoned a swarm of air elementals. We were more ready than we had ever been for anything, and at Valanthe’s direction the ship slid forward silently on the wind.

As we moved over the trees, I made out the occasional flash of a gith patrol below us. They were moving fast but it wouldn’t matter soon. We crested over a treeline and came into a large clearing edged on one side by a rocky foothill with a cave entrance. From the look of the cave entrance, the gith have had use of this area for quite some time. Near the cave entrance was a dreadnaught, seemingly lounging without its harness on. Oddly shaped tents filled the clearing and hundreds of githyanki went about their business, most undisturbed by the appearance of our brig. On opposite sides were large command tents that were hubs of activity along with the cave entrance. On the far side was a crudely made pen holding two dozen elves. Before a moment had passed, one of the black flame warlocks stepped out of the nearer command tent, and there was no doubt he knew this was an attack. He spread his armed and a large ghostly creature appeared next to him. The battle was joined and while it would last only seconds, it would be as fierce as it was one-sided.

I leveled my bow at the nearby warlock off the port railing. His face was an impassive smirk – he thought he was well protected. The fact that he didn’t die outright indicates that perhaps he was. The arrows tore through the air and nearly destroyed the _Stoneskin_ that protected him, and gravely injured him as well. The smirk was gone, replaced by horror, and I smirked myself. 

Dravot had his own havoc to wreak and from the lantern beams of pure sunlight danced across the battlefield. Most of the githyanki troops nearby collapsed, burning and screaming as the holy light washed over them and some five score githyanki would no longer threaten elfkind. But as they died, two balls of light ripped out of each body and shot upward in a spinning trail of light. I prayed it was the elven souls now free to join Corellian. As I watched them dance into the sky and fade away, the ghostly creature wavered, vanished, and re-appeared on the deck of the brig. Since Aethramyr was near, I just ignored it for now. I had no doubt he could deal with it.

Bolo dispatched the air elementals to rescue the elves and cause general mayhem, and then called up a storm of fire, destroying even more githyanki as they scrambled to counter attack. On the ground, half dragon gith were barking out orders trying to create order from the chaos. Those commanders ignored the flames, but they had no troops left near them to command. Tents flashed into bright flares of canvas only to die out in an instant leaving only charred poles and faintly burning ropes behind. The fire storm rolled away, leaving only the warlocks and dragon-gith standing. One warlock attempted to use a horrid wilting on us, but we were particularly well prepared for that. The protections of the Light of Reason and Shatterspike turned the spell aside, and it had no effect at all.

I knew my warlock opponent was protected but I also knew that protection was nearly spent. But just for spite, I drew adamantium arrows anyway, and launched another full volley at him. Even as his body collapsed into an empty husk his face retained a hateful expression. Before he fell completely, five globes burst free of him. The other warlock, apparently hoping to avoid the same fate, spoke a word. The word made my mind reel despite all the layered protections. My ears were ringing and I needed a moment to clear my head but I was able to see the battle go on. Dravot attempted to remove the effect but was unsuccessful at lifting its hold. But he didn’t let the failure even faze him. As he finished the last words of the spell he turned on the massive ghostly apparition on the deck of the brig. He shot his faith forth like a lance of light and pierced the ghost, and the ether of its body unraveled and scattered on the wind.

From the starboard side, the warlock leveled his staff at Dravot and a ray shot forth, but the Light of Reason glowed softly and the ray faded as it came near. The warlocks were beginning to look displeased, and that did not change as Bolo uttered a Holy Word, and another five score githyanki were erased from the prime. 

The dreadnaught finally reacted – these creatures seem quite dumb and this one did not move until perhaps given some order to do so. It thrust itself forward on small wings and crossed most of the clearing in seconds. The eye opened, and the magic all fell away, much as we had expected. I wasn’t sure if this was a boon or bane for us, but it didn’t sit well with Scorch at all. From his position high above, Scorch put it in the Maze. It wouldn’t be back for a long time.

As the dreadnaught disappeared, the arrows came. The half dragon githynaki had finally gotten enough order in their troops to have a volley fired at our ship. The arrows flew everywhere, not seeking any particular target. It wasn’t so much a matter of being hit as it was how many might find you. Even with my mind blurry, I found a hole in the storm and escaped with only two small cuts. 

Valanthe reported over the link that there was one of the stealthy creatures on the field – like the one she killed before. It was fiddling with some kind of strange device. She didn’t think it could be good for us, whatever it was, and she dropped the creature with only a small gurgle escaping from it. 

Then two more black enchanters came to the front of the cave with about twenty githyanki warriors behind them. They were carrying some kind of eggs. The site must have been a githyanki hatchery for some time now. (It was later explained to me that you can’t really reproduce on the Astral plane, and the gith commonly seeded hatcheries on the prime.) They were trying to escape with the young. Bolo was particularly disgusted by this, and made his displeasure known in the form of a quick spell. At first I thought nothing happened, but then I soon heard a tremor rip through the rock. The cave and surrounding rock suddenly shook and tore itself apart, collapsing on the githyanki and their eggs. The eggs were smashed, and the dark arcanists impaled on great spears of rock.

Despite all this, the githyanki spellcasters were still doing their best to hold us back. On the brig, a spectral hand was clawing at Aethramyr but having no real effect. A cone of cold also washed over the brig but it too was frustrated. Dravot and the paladins teleported to the casters and Zira quickly cut down one of them and I was sure the others wouldn’t last much longer. Apparently the half dragon githyanki felt the same way and they all shifted off the plane abandoning their bretheren. I understand the Lich Queen puts a high price on failure, so they may have only forestalled the inevitable. If they did not find death at the hands of their Queen, they would find it from us the next time.

Scorch seemed to be enjoying the whole thing a bit too much. He started cackling and the air shimmered as massive sonic explosions rippled across the battlefield. At least a hundred githyanki were shaken to pieces, burst apart or simply thrown into objects to fall limp like rag dolls. 

Dravot knew the black flaming spellcasters were undead, and now he had the chance to find out just how powerful they were. He invoked Pelor’s wrath, and light again blasted forth from the lantern. They simply turned to dust, the black flames lingering in the air a few moments longer. There was now only one caster left – one of the duplicate enchanters I had seen. Dravot anchored it to the prime so we could ask some questions.

Valanthe was furiously working on the device that she had discovered the githyanki fiddling with. It had counters on it that seemed to be quickly winding down. This was not a promising sign. It took her a few tries but she stopped the device just before it did whatever it would have done.

The battle was over. It had truthfully lasted not even half a minute. Our brig crested the trees, and all manner of fire, sound, and divine wrath erupted in the small clearing. Now there were around 250 dead githyanki. Their commanders were dead, the half-dragons fled, and their eggs destroyed. More importantly, I hoped that over five hundred elven souls were now free to go to Arborea and be at peace. In less than a minute, we had destroyed the entire camp and nearly everyone in it, and I couldn’t help but smile at that. But this new perversion of the Lich Queen’s would have to be stopped. To do that we would need some information.

Scorch tried to dominate the black enchantress, but she resisted his efforts. I sighed and shrugged, then tried my simple charm spell. It didn’t surprise me at all that she resisted the enchantment. But since there was not much to lose, I tried again. And again. And again. On that last one, she finally yielded and became much more friendly. Scorch just rolled his eyes and wandered off to examine the device Valanthe had disarmed.

I started firing questions at her rapidly. Unfortunately she was not as informed as I might have hoped but she was useful nonetheless. The attacks on the prime were being launched from ships from Tu’Narath in the astral. The outpost is built on a dead god, and it is through that god that the Lich Queen is somehow reanimating her followers. The process uses the stolen elven souls. According to her, the souls are destroyed in the process and can never be freed back to what they once were. Other races are however adequate for consumption.

But I didn’t believe her. I sounded like so much dogma to me, and if the white globes were indeed freed souls, then her scripture was false. Dravot agreed – he was sure she was simply repeating dogma that she was taught and it could be entirely untrue.

I asked her how they persuaded the slaad to cooperate with them. The idea of the slaad working together in an organized fashion was far too confusing for me to grasp. She said that it was “The Black One” who convinced the slaad to aid them. It didn’t make much sense really. The “Black One” also made the bargain with the red dragons. It could be the Shadow King or something else entirely.

As for the situation on the prime, she said that their only other command post had recently been abandoned. She was originally stationed at that site. In hearing her say where it was, we realized it was only thirty miles from Ru’un Khazai. That would probably be why we couldn’t contact Meepo. (Aethramyr tried on the spot and learned Meepo was alive and unharmed and the gith had not discovered their lost fortress. Correction: Our fortress.) The other command post had been assaulted by a powerful group comprised mostly of humans. From her descriptions, we began to suspect that one of the Eight was involved.

I asked her how the githyanki were able to breach the barrier to planar travel. She just said “The Queen has powerful allies and they have made it so. Those who have raised the wall can leave it as well.”

I just rolled my eyes and said “I meant in a more physical sense. Is there some kind of token or phrase that allows one passage through? How does the barrier know whom to allow?” Unfortunately she did not know.

By then Scorch and Valanthe had finished fiddling. They said it was an astral bomb – had it gone off, it would have exchanged this entire area with a part of the astral, destroying anything in the area. Someone quipped “Too bad it’s not an exchange with the Positive Energy plane – we could drop it on Rauxes.”

Scorch got a light in his eye and started rubbing his hands and ran off muttering “Yes….positive energy… just change the focus…”

I interrogated the githyanki some more. She was a “Black Weave Warlock” she told me. As we talked, even she was beginning to find it odd that she could not recall her childhood memories. But she said that she would be reanimated if she died using the elven souls (other races were not suitable for some reason). But her lack of memories suggests she is some kind of copy, as does her presence in more than one battle at a time. Could she even be a weak copy of the Lich Queen herself? I wasn’t sure, but it had to be stopped regardless.

I dispatched the Swiftrunners to report, making sure they knew of the situation with the souls and bearing suggestions to the elven clerics that some souls that had been unreachable might now be free. I am hopeful that they will find out and we will know of those souls can be saved. We then scoured the battle site for anything useful while Dravot and Bolo tended to the elven prisoners. They had been drugged but were otherwise unharmed. Thanks to the air elementals and our fast action, we hadn’t lost a single one of them. We loaded them onto the brig and prepared to return to our camp.

The Black Weave Warlock asked “Did you have any other questions for me?”

“No, I think that is all,” I replied. 

“I assume then that you shall be killing me so that I may be re-born by the Lich Queen to return to the battle?”

I hid my skepticism. “Yes, I wouldn’t want to prevent that would I?” 

“You are a good friend,” she said. There are times when the cordial attitude created by the charm spell is quite unnerving. This was one of those times. “I shall beg the Queen, at the peril of my own life of course, to consume you last among your allies.”

“I thank you,” I replied, and then quickly fired two arrows at her, and she collapsed. Aethramyr looked at me, shocked at the apparent cold-blooded slaughter of a prisoner. 

“What are you doing?” he asked.

As he said it, three white wisps of light pulled themselves free of the corpse, stretching out, spinning, twirling, spiraling up higher and higher.

Still staring at the freed souls, I replied “Freeing our people.”


----------



## WizarDru

This was rapidly becoming _irritating_, this movement.  Each time the Lone Tooth drew near, the Druid was gone.  He had an inate sense for the skin-changer, and he *knew*.

He had, at first, intended to approach him in a respectful manner, and hoped not to panic anyone.  Even the most steadfast of guards tended to panic when the Lone Tooth appeared.  Then, he contemplated waiting nearby, and then pouncing in to the village.  Ho!  How they would react, then.  But he needed to hunt, and that was difficult here.  Each time, he'd range in the snows, and avoid the blue hunters.  He did not fear them, of course, but they seemed to be allies of the Skin-changer, or at least not enemies.  It was not his place to decide to change that.

Soon, Bolo simply didn't come back.  At all.  This was of great concern to the Lone Tooth, but what choice did he have?  No further direction came, so he took the village under his paw.  Though they knew it not, he guarded them from the predators that hunted.  The things that probed and waited, in the dark crags of blackened ice.  But they were not lessening in number, for all he killed.  This worried the Lone Tooth.  It worried him deeply.

When the skythings came, the Lone Tooth could do little but watch them fly past.  He was faster than any of his kind, but he was not meant for such weather.  It taxed him.  And a two-day run was still a long distance, even for one such as he.  In the end, they had their own resources, and he was not needed.  Not there, at least.  The predators still were there, and beyond the village, there was little safety.

He had faced the pack, once, and the bear, twice.  They were not clever, though they were clever for their kind.  They did not know what to make of him, but did not harass him, when they realized he was no threat.  He could have spoken with them, but to what end?  They were not wise, even if they could talk.

And so, he waited.

*Soon*, he thought.  _Surely it will be soon._


----------



## WizarDru

The General watched them drag the remains from the Hall of Whispers with a look of suspicion.  He stopped the two gish as they dragged the pile of bones and cloth.  They showed no interest, and woudl be slain if they had.  He was a General and Lord-Captain, and they lowly gish, an necessary embarrasment to the race.

He moved the cloth the examine it.  "_Gor'Thel_", he thought, looking at the tortured face.  There was no doubt, then.  The queen had been....*unhappy*.  He had never known that the unliving could suffer, especially those with no souls.  He had learned differently.

"_What are your orders?_"  He asked this in a perfunctory manner, and waited.  They could scarce deny him this information, either, but caution was still called for.

"_He is to be taken a Void chamber, General._"  So she would use him again, then.  More usurper souls to burn, no doubt.  Not for the first time, he was painfully aware that he grew close to the time of 'Honor'.  Soon, he might have his opportunity to join Gor'Thel in service to the Queen.  He gave no sign of the inner shudder he experienced at the thought.

He waved them away.  Without a word, they continued on their task.  Did they suspect him?  Probably not, but he'd have some knights slay them and dispose of the bodies.  It was safer that way.

If Gor'Thel was to be 'voided' once more...then the whole of the 3rd force must have been decimated by the worm-slayers.  He must act.  SOON.


----------



## Zad

*Shadows Rise and Shadows Fall - Chapter 6*

*Shadows Rise and Shadows Fall - Chapter 6*

*OOC Notes:*
Exp is 2000.

*Loot:*
Red dragon bookends (1200gp)
Three spellbooks
Scroll of Clone
6 potions (room 13)
4 potions (room 13)
1 potion (room 13)
Jar with red dragon flesh in liquid

*This Week’s Adventure:*
The carnage of the battle only really hit me after it was all over and we searched the site. We spread out to search and tried to avoid being overwhelmed by the smell of burnt flesh.

Bolo used an earth elemental form to enter the cave, and at one point came out holding two odd objects each the size of a basket. They were githyanki eggs that had somehow survived the earthquake. I didn’t really spare it much thought – the next step seemed simple enough to me, but Bolo thought otherwise. He was determined to somehow save them. He didn’t seem to clear on what he would do with them yet, but the earth had spared them and he was resolute in his belief that there was a reason for it. 

The whole thing was so much nonsense. There were very real consequences to keeping those around let alone trying to raise them. Consequences I don’t think Bolo considered carefully. But this was his choice, not mine; his mind was set, and since I saw no obvious threat to Celene or us, I let him walk his path without argument even though I thought it folly. Dravot however was not satisfied and continued to press Bolo to consider the ramifications of this act if not for the eggs than for those in their vicinity of the planned home – the Land of Black Ice. Fortunately the battlefield was large enough that I could search other areas and be spared the noise.

It wasn’t long before we had gathered anything of use and departed the site. The elves were on board the brig and starting to feel better as we made ready to head for the camp. I was looking forward to our next move – an all out assault, but my mental planning was stopped short when Dravot’s head suddenly snapped up in alarm. He paused a moment then said “I’ve just gotten a message from the Land of Black Ice. A powerful spellcaster just assaulted the town and left.”

And here it had been such a fine morning. Feh.

Scorch had the means available so we decided to teleport to the village. The elves could pilot the brig back to the camp with some quick instruction, and they would be safe there. I felt bad that I was not seeing them to safety, but I knew that splitting our group now could be disastrous. So they went on to camp with the earth elementals to guard them and we went to the Land of Black Ice. 

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to find, but this wasn’t it. The Owl’s workshop was on fire, the roof half missing. Various people were under different enchantments. Hraldrin was feebleminded, drooling on the ground. Ember was asleep and The Owl was paralyzed. It was about then we noticed that nobody had been killed or hurt, just enchanted. Aethramyr said something about being grateful for small favors, and I agreed completely.

It turned out the attacker was Venn. The Owl told us he came to get his spellbook and several other items he had hidden away without her knowledge. He barely said a word while there and seemed distracted and distant. We had left Venn in the care of the dragons with the Theerpart still in him, and that was the last we knew of him.

I contacted Lord Gelban on the scale, and after some moments he responded. 

“Lord Gelban, what do you know of the wizard Venn that we left in the dragons’ care? What has happened?”

I could almost hear Lord Gelban’s mental sigh. “How is it that any more you find out about these things just as I do?”

I smiled inwardly, pleased at the implications of that. Lord Gelban went on. “We had successfully removed the… package from him two weeks ago, and he was recovering. He was under guard, just in case. He woke up, tapped into some unknown power, and stymied the guards watching him and left. The package, however, is still safe. I am uncertain how he cast the spells that he did. Know that no one was hurt in his escape however. He was careful it seems about that. The Interdiction on travel has weakened some of the defenses around the demi-plane and he was able to depart more easily than he would have otherwise been.”

I related the events that had occurred to Lord Gelban. Since we had not recently been in contact, I also took time to update him on our recent efforts, which he received with both eagerness and approval. And I suspect some small measure of surprise.

In turn, he updated me on other matters across the continent. The reds have pulled back, and the greens are now the predominant threat. No city is currently occupied by a dragon force, save Greyhawk and the Greyhawk dragons have only tried to keep some kind of order there. The Scarlet Brotherhood seems to have completely abandoned Greyhawk but whether that’s due to the dragons is unclear.

Lord Gelban had little new information on Rauxes unfortunately, but I warned him that it may be a subject of keen interest soon. I hesitated to speak more openly but warned him there may be great evil spawning there soon. Lord Gelban took that in and said he would attempt to investigate and learn more soon. He also informed me the Silverring has gone back to sleep. I was slightly disheartened by this but at least now the Gilden was back with us.

We decided to spend the night in the Land of Black Ice. I had hoped to spend it at the elven camp but it seems events were set against that. In the morning, we planned to move the battle to the Astral and assault the githyanki outpost. We did not speak of it openly, but there was no need – we all knew where our path led.

But that was hardly the end of the day’s surprises. I can only speculate that Bolo has been profoundly shaken by his meeting with the Great Ash, and in his reflections on that event has taken his mind to new levels of consciousness. And in this mental reverie, he reached a conclusion: our group was just not weird enough. This must be what happened. What else could it possibly be? What else explains it? Perhaps it’s a matter of balance – somewhere, things are very, very _normal_, so there must be some concentrated strangeness to balance the scales. Bolo had gone to find his parents who were out walking, and when he returned, there was a large lion with him. Not that most lions talk, or had the touch of the celestials. After all, a normal lion wouldn’t be weird enough now would it? The lion’s name is Lone Tooth. He was sent by Ehlonna (or was it Beory?) to help Bolo. I just nodded, dumbstruck. 

Somewhere in the vastness of the prime, there is a very, very normal place. I wonder what it’s like.

In the wee hours just before sunrise, magical alarms were triggered. Two creatures approached the sunken bowl of the village, walking openly not attempting to hide themselves. We converged on them carefully, and over the dawn breeze I could make out words as they whispered to each other. I couldn’t understand the words, but I recognized the language.

It was githyanki.

They dropped their hoods and stopped. One was githyanki, of some rank, with a silver sword across his back. The other was githzerai. I wasn’t sure what brought these two racial enemies together but I was sure it had some significance. Since they were clearly here to talk, that’s what we did.

The githyanki said “We are messengers of Zeth’rrr of Tu’narath, General of the Shadow Void.”

The githzerai added “I am part of a group called the Sashal-khou.”

They paused looking at each other a moment, choosing their words carefully. The githyanki chose to speak first. “Not all githyanki willingly follow the Queen. Many would see their races rejoined and the fight pressed against the Mind Flayers – the true enemy. We have… sympathizers within the Queen’s structure. You are the first chance we have seen to possibly throw off her yoke. General Zeth’rrr has an interest in our organization. I take a great risk by telling you that he secretly sponsors it. He has asked each of us to attend this meeting that you would know the sincerity of this message. You will no doubt wish to employ divinations to verify what we have said.”

We made no pretense of courtesy – we exchanged thoughts quickly and silently over the scales. Magic was used and unsurprisingly, they were what they appeared to be, and seemed to be telling the truth. Or at least the truth as they knew it.

Their purpose came to me as they spoke, clear as crystal. And from the reactions of my fellows, they saw it precisely as I did. Some gith wanted to revolt but they could not. They see in us a way to break free, and they are taking it. The obvious question was: could they be trusted, or were they leading us towards a trap. Fortunately this obvious question had an obvious answer, predetermined from the moment the conversation begun. I knew we would end up allying with them. I knew we would trust them. I also knew they would likely betray us later, and that we would deal with that when it happened.

The githyanki started again, and I realized something. While all of this was obvious to me, it wasn’t obvious to him. He was still in the act of carefully proposing, of skirting words, of picking phrases. “Simple divinations have revealed you plan to assault the astral fortress soon. Perhaps you would even succeed. But if you do this, the Queen will be prepared for you. She will be entrenched in the city and you will have to overcome great resistance. We can offer you little in the way of direct battle power, but we can give you information. We can offer ways you can prepare yourselves for the assault. Should you attack, you would have to root out the Queen in the Palace of Whispers, and She would be surrounded by her black mages and cloaked in the power of the One in the Void. We can offer you a way past some of these defenses.”

A simple “Go on,” from me was enough to indicate our interest in his proposal. Truthfully I just wanted to know the particulars – what, where, when. But he believed we needed to be convinced, so we just let him go on.

“The Queen has become… erratic.” This in itself was a great ordeal for him to say. “She seeks the remaining part of the One in the Void which was taken from her a hundred years ago. Or was it two? One of our order stole one of the eyes. He took it to another outpost on the astral, and surrounded it with a storm that none could penetrate.”

I looked back coolly and said “Karloth?”

The gith both stopped in their tracks. “You have heard of him?”

I raised an eyebrow and shrugged then motioned for them to go on. The last thing I wanted was them to know we knew anything more about it. An artifact of great power hidden in Ruun-Khazai right under our noses was one thing, but we didn’t need them to know it was here.

The gith were confused but went on. “In any case, the Queen seeks this lost eye to further Her power. The Queen…. She did not always devour the strongest of our race. While She has made it dogma, some remember that this was not Gith’s intent when she liberated us.”

I asked about the Queen’s allies – we already knew that she was working with others of late, but I was hoping for more details. They told us of a seer who is friendly to their cause. She has told them that the Queen was visited by “The Long Black Being” – a creature from the spirit world, a foul malfeasance. Perhaps it was a creature of the abysss, or perhaps the Shadow King, I’m not sure. He brought a plan and allies – mercenaries. While the gith have worked with the slaad before, they had never seen ones like these before. They do not know what the goal of these creatures is, but the alliance has made her bold, perhaps foolish.

“We can think of only one motive the Queen would have for cooperating with these allies. One thing that would make her risk this: immortality. Even in Her current form, she is vulnerable. She would seek to become the first god native to the astral. Were She to locate the missing eye, She could activate the power of the One in the Void. We do not know if this would make Her a deity or just give Her the power of one. But every gith would be Her unwilling slave if this were so. We are not happy as She is now. Were this to happen….”

This was interesting but our minds were clearly focused on the implementation of such plans. Dravot asked “Where is her phylactery?” The gith were slightly surprised, not so much at the question so much as his directness.

They replied “There are several false ones and they are moved frequently. We are not sure which is the true phylactery. Her ghost knights guard them all and they move within Tu’Narath. She could not bear to have it far from her.”

I asked “Have the Queen’s plans changed given the destruction of your forces on the Prime?”

While they answered, they were certainly speculating more than answering from direct knowledge. “We believe the Queen was not expecting this level of resistance. We are unsure if She will be willing to commit more forces and use more violent methods. But we are worried about how many gith will die in such an attempt. This is why we come to you. We would spare githyanki lives. Were you to assault directly, you might succeed or you might fall. But surely many gith would die in the process.”

“And what of the elven souls being stolen?”

“We are not sure exactly what happens or how this is done. We believe the Queen has tapped into the power of the One in the Void and uses the usurp… the souls of your people to re-infuse her dark servants. The souls do not return after the servants are destroyed, but nor do we believe they are released. We have heard a phrase from one or two who have returned from the Void Chamber – ‘The bargain must be kept.’”

If the gith noticed us all shuddering, he did not inquire about it.

“Very well,” I said. “How do we do this thing? What is your plan?”

The githyanki were again surprised. I think they expected to have to do a great deal more talking to persuade us to help them. But we were all resolved to it, so it was time to get to the details.

“The General of the Shadow Void is one of us. He is a very powerful member of the military and responsible for the defenses that surround the outpost. A city of this size cannot be completely closed – materials are needed etc. There are ways that the General can sneak us into the city and into the palace. This would spare gith lives and prevent damage to the city.”

Dravot said “We understand the general idea. What exactly are you ready to do for us?”

The gith laid out the specifics – we would approach the outpost and use the signaling device on the brig to tell their people of our presence. They would escort us in past the defenses and into the palace. I must admit that I was looking forward to a direct assault on the city, partly in vengeance for the destruction sown in my homeland. But after hearing them detail some of the defenses, I was quickly warming to the idea of sneaking in.

We would need disguises while we were on the brig. The brig can be moved to the astral via a special gate. There was one at the command post we destroyed but the pieces are buried in the earthquake. The gith agents promised to send people to activate it for us, and we could then sail the brig into the astral and to the outpost. How close we arrive would depend ultimately on how damaged the gate is.

And with that it was done. We agreed to meet them at the battle site in some few hours. We made our preparations and then returned to the elven camp. Fortunately, the elves we rescued had arrived safely. I updated Aran’gel and then we set off on the brig back to the scene of the battle.

When we arrived, the githyanki were already present. The githzerai we met the prior night was there along with two new githyanki. While the githyanki were very nervous, the githzerai was the very essence of composure. Bolo went back into the cave and began removing the arc-shaped sections of the gate from the rubble and the githyanki went to work.

In an hour, the gate was assembled and ready. There were some problems with the connecting bolts that held the pieces together, but Aethramyr somehow magically fashioned one to replace a broken part, and the gate became operational. The bolts turned into a liquid metal, and then space blurred within the archway revealing a off white landscape filled with billowing cloudy shapes. 

We established our disguises with various illusions or shape changing, and then slid the brig into the archway. We emerged on the far side, less than an hour from the outpost by Scorch’s reckoning. The astral was as strange as ever, and time felt slowed down, sped up, and standing still all at the same time. I was disturbed by the sounds the last time I was here, but this time I realized what it was – there was no echo. I can’t say as I missed it but here we were, back again.

We sailed peacefully through the astral as we glided silently to our destination. After a time we noticed defense patrols – they paid little mind to us – we seemed proper and we were already inside their outer perimeter. It wasn’t long before we came into sight of the massive outpost – I estimate it was half the size of Dyvers. We could make out many floating defensive outposts around it orbiting slowly in the astral sea. As instructed, we signaled and waited. Soon we were directed to one of the floating towers and the ship was boarded and inspected. From the speed of the inspection, the guards were clearly under orders not to look too closely.

We were directed to the General’s Tower – a large building in the city proper. In the yard below were hundreds of githyanki troops training. Even from above I could hear the clashing sounds of swordplay and practice. The parapets were lined with the skulls of mind flayers, and the hatred of the illithid hung in the air. We landed at a small private dock and were quickly escorted in to see the General.

The large tower was very austere, the only decoration being several tapestries depicting battles with the illithid. (After our inventory of Ruun-Khazai, we were quite familiar with the type.) We were led to a circular chamber with a mosaic of a fearsome red dragon and war banners lining the walls. Two githyanki stood in the room. One wore black armor, and had a black gem in place of one eye, with a raven on his shoulder. The other had deep vermillion robes embroidered with black symbol. 

The armored man stood forward and said “I am Zeth’rrr, General of the Shadow Void, Warmaster of the Githyanki.”

We nodded and said little. I had no doubt that they were aware of who we were, or at least as aware as they cared to be. 

There was some brief conversation that followed. I recall particularly the robed figure remarking of the Queen “She is restoring the essence of the dead god so she may steal it. And She is committing abominations that I cannot abide. She takes githyanki eggs and breeding stock and creates the duthka gith. It sickens me.” I recall this clearly because it put a name to the half dragons we had seen but also because it was then I realized that this creature was no githyanki but a red dragon disguised. Apparently the worms have had their fill of the Queen as well. I balked at the notion of helping the reds, but it seemed our interests were aligned in this.

The General added, “As for the Queen’s defenders, there are many protections. The undead mages are even greater in power within the Palace. The place itself is enchanted with the voices of the whispering dead – the weak willed may find it difficult just to walk those halls. There are many powerful beings under her control including some of the undead. You are not safe in the assumption that you can defeat everything you encounter within the palace. There are also several failed breeding projects and several that are in motion – you should avoid these. She is served by a collection of Ch’rai – undead wizards. Greatest amongst these is Zan’krast, a powerful sorcerer with no legs.”

[Originally, Wizardru said “with no arms or legs”. And someone piped up “I’m guessing he has the still spell feat.”]

Time was against us and I was beginning to feel more exposed the longer we waited. “So how do we enter the palace?” I asked.

“There is one main entrance, and you will not breach that. However in the courtyard there is a statue of the great one, the liberator. Stand before it and place your hand upon it and speak her name, and you will be transported into the citadel. My forces can escort you that far, and I will arrange a gap in the patrols for you to slip through. After that, you will be on your own. You should know that teleportation is possible within most of the palace, however the moment a living creature who is not githyanki enters the palace, the Queen will know. They will all know. I know you have little faith in scrying magic but you have used it at need. There is no barrier against such things in the palace, however the Queen will instantly know should you do this. Be aware.”

Dravot asked, “What of our captured friends, and what of retreat? Will the Queen flee?”

The General was prepared with an answer. “I have heard that you have inquired about the astral flotsam. They will likely be kept somewhere in the palace but it’s hard to say where. As for flight, the Queen has too much invested in this place. She will not flee. She cannot. But know that the Queen is no mean threat. She is powerful. Your best chance is to locate her and separate her from any others.”

The General turned to the dragon. “I understand you have one more piece of information they would consider valuable that even I do not know.”

“Indeed,” the dragon answered. “I know where the phylactery can be found. It is hidden in the library. It is concealed by magic but fleshlings of your power should have no difficulty finding it once there. I also tell you that the Queen bears the Sceptre of Rueiworeu. It is a powerful magic item, symbolic of the bond between the gith and the dragons. Be wary of it. I cannot tell you of its specific power but it is to be feared nonetheless.”

The gith and dragon had little else to say, and we had little else to ask. The General did seem to have good motivations for wanting the Queen removed, but I still had no doubt that there would be some kind of reversal of this good faith before we left this plane. Doubly so when one considers the red dragons, some of whom no doubt want vengeance for having Lord Gelban snatched from under their snouts. But that was for later. We were escorted out, and shown to the Palace of Whispers. The General’s people did their job well for our journey was swift and unnoticed. The statue sat as described, surrounded by a vast necropolis of mind flayer bones and skulls. As we approached the statue, the voices began whispering…

The statue was hard to miss. It was a hundred feet tall if it was an inch, and made from what seemed to be a single block of polished obsidian. Gith stood, her great sword pointed downward, the point teen feet from the ground over a circular symbol. We stood upon it and spoke her name, and appeared in the palace.

Strangely, there were no guards here. The room was dark but Dravot remedied that. It was an unfurnished obsidian chamber and there were five portals leading out. But each one flowed with astral ectoplasm. The viscious fluid flowed down the portals and we were unsure what would happen if we touched it.

But now inside the palace, the whispers were much louder, much closer, much more maddening. Oddly the echo-less quality of the astral was diminished here, but that seemed a poor trade for the wailing voices, continually hissing, moaning, and biting at us. We each needed a moment to steel ourselves, but we all shook off the powerful voices and focused on what we came to do. Bolo spotted a concealed doorway, and since it was the only thing that was not covered in flowing ectoplasm, we opted to try that.

The next room we found was nearly unremarkable, save that it had a strange egg in it. It was eight foot tall, five foot wide, and reminded me of the Cuckoo or Egg of Coot. A silvery light glowed from the interior, but there was no sign of its purpose or function. Another room had a set of spellbooks and some other minor items. We covered several rooms in succession, not yet finding any defenders nor any sign of our quarry. Valanthe proceeded with her usual skill and care and we moved from chamber to chamber, secret door to secret door for a time.

But that couldn’t last. We slipped out of a yet another secret door (still doggedly avoiding gooey portals). The room beyond was quite large. Eight pillars surrounded an octagon set into the floor. On it was a column of silvery light with motes of black energy. Inside the column was a grey slaad. Surrounding it were eight figures. Six were githyanki warriors, standing silently. One was a githyanki with no legs, bobbing in the air. He bore a red cloak and a staff capped with a flickering diamond. The eighth figure was a beholder, with four mechanical arms protruding from the underside of its belly, the metal forming a protective armor around it. 

If we’re going to start somewhere, I guess it may as well be with the most powerful sorcerer guard the Queen has.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*Interlude with a Dire Lion*

(This takes place the night before we left for the astral plane)

The wind blew through the leaves of the Great Rowan making them rustle and the branches sway. Bolo and Lone Tooth sat underneath the tree and spoke of many things. Each was trying to help the other come to terms with their-own situation. Lone Tooth was sent by Ehlonna to this paradise in the middle of the tundra to be Bolo’s aid. Bolo had accepted him with open arms as he was told to expect of the Grand Druid, but his companions were up in arms about something Bolo was doing and Lone Tooth needed to know what it was.
“Brandybuck? I’ve noticed a few of your friends are worried about something you brought to the Land of Black Ice. I would know what it is and if it endangers you and the rest of the Grove.” Lone Tooth asked, his long feline frame lying next to Bolo. 
Bolo looked worried and was hesitant to speak at first but eventually started speaking. “It all started this morning. We decimated a Githyanki cell in Celene, I called upon the earth to collapse a cavern that was being used as a Gith breeding hatchery. After all was said and done I went inside to make sure there were no survivors and to find anything we could use against the invasion. What I found was two un-hatched eggs. I looked upon them and the words of the First Ash came to me. It told me that the way to rebuild the Druids was to start with family. I have always treated everyone like I would treat my own kin and I looked on these eggs and saw one of them move inside the thin shell. My heart went out to them and I took them with me. I know that the others have issues with my wanting to raise them as my children but I’ve fallen in love with the eggs. I brought them here to my Grove so that they will be protected and raised by my parents and family.”
The Dire Lion leapt into the air and landed in front of Bolo his maw only inches from the druid’s face. 
“You brought the spawn of the enemy HERE?” Lone Tooth said. “Are you mad? Is there some form of enchantment on you? Perhaps I should get the little mage to come here.” 
Bolo was shocked by Lone Tooth’s display and instinctively stated to change. His form blurred and in an instant a Chimera stood facing Lone Tooth. “Don’t get in my face like that. Ever!” all three heads said at once before reforming as Bolo. “I did what I thought was right. The earthquake had spared them. I couldn’t just leave them there to die. What do you want me to do? Hand them back to the Gith and hope they weren’t abused and turned into monsters? No. I’ll never let that happen.” Bolo said sitting back down and lying back against the tree. 
“Sometimes I get the feeling that my companions think that I’m insane.” He said.
Lone Tooth sat back on his haunches and sighed. “I can appreciate their feelings.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You think I’m crazy too?”  Bolo shot back.
“No Brandybuck. I just think I can understand their point of view. You seem to have a habit of doing things on impulse and worrying about the consequences later. Not the wisest of decisions coming from the de-facto leader of the Druids. But I can sense you do it out of love. Love makes up for many mistakes and errors in judgment. I will stand by your side on this but only as long as the children are of good moral character and abide by the laws of the green.” Lone Tooth said.
Bolo got up and hugged the lion startling the Lone Tooth. “Thank you my friend.”


----------



## WizarDru

The battle begins in mere moments.  Dig the awesome battlefield, courtesy of my Dwarven Forge and Scorch's amazing mini/hirst arts skillz:


----------



## Zad

Kayleigh's current block is in the rogue's gallery thread

Wizardru's Story Hour PC and NPC thread


----------



## WizarDru

Zad said:
			
		

> Kayleigh's current block is in the rogue's gallery thread
> 
> Wizardru's Story Hour PC and NPC thread



I've added something to the thread, too.  Long overdue, but there at last.


----------



## Zad

*Shadows Rise and Shadows Fall - Chapter 8*

*Shadows Rise and Shadows Fall - Chapter 8*

*OOC Notes:*
Experience for Chapter 7: 3066 (for 21st level chars)
Experience for Chapter 8: 2800 (for 21st level chars)
Experience bonus for Kayleigh: 10 points. (You’ll see.)

*Loot:*
Nothing of any value.
Oh, except those spellbook thingies. Junk. Probably just sell them for 10 gold.
And 4 silver swords
and 2 +1 silver swords
and the dancing sword

*This Week’s Adventure:*
The phane was dead. Thorkeld was saved. And the white slaad… well he was a white slaad. But he seemed perfectly content to listen to Valanthe and didn’t start immediately implanting eggs in anyone, so we just moved on without trying to understand it too much.

Frankly it’s thinks like this that make me realize maybe being followed around by a kobolds wasn’t so bad.

Our path to the library lay up the shaft from the phane’s room, and we carefully moved upwards. At the top of the shaft was a small room. The room had four of the ghostly appraritions waiting to ambush us. However thanks to the blessings of Pelor, our weapons still had the power to strike them and we destroyed them quickly.

The next room had a hideous tapestry on the wall. It was crafted from the tanned flesh of gith, demons, mind flayers and other creatures. The eyeballs were still imbedded in the flesy at points, and gave the eerie sensation of watching you. Even as Valanthe moved in carefully to examine the room, she could feel their icy stare, as if the flesh hungered to consume her.

Which it did. There are many things that have changed, and apparently many that haven’t. We still have a penchant for odd things following us around for instance. True, a white slaad is not quite a kobold, but the principle remains. And Valanthe still has a habit of being attacked by furniture. The tapestry reached out and tore at her, oozing a black ichor and its hidden teeth bit hard into her leg. We stepped up quickly and destroyed the wretched creation, but when Dravot attempted to heal the wound, it would not close. The gash was infected with a vile fluid, and could not be readily cured by anything currently at our disposal. Dravot believed he could reverse the effect if he first consecrated the wound, but this could not be done right now. Valanthe simply shrugged and accepted it for now, and we moved on towards the library.

Around the corner was a bizarre sight. The hallway hallway ahead was a tube whose walls were an undulating mass of ectoplasm. At the far end was an oval orifice filled with an impenetrable silver-grey mist. Divine guidance told us this was the way to the library, but none of us much cared to navigate this hallway.

As Valanthe stepped carefully into the tube, it became clear our fears were well founded. The ectoplasm surged and flowed around her, thrusting her down the hallway and through the orifice.

She was thrown onto a floor that was covered in large draconic bones. To one side there was a table of black skin stretched over bone. In the back, curtains of flesh hung in front of two alcoves glowing with a sickly green light. And directly ahead, there was a large mirror. Valanthe felt the mirrors magic clawing at her, tugging, pulling, but she fought it off. Just as the feeling faded, a creature stepped out around the mirror. Vlaakith, Lich Queen of all Githyanki, looked down on Valanthe and sneered. One dessicated hand twitched an absent gesture, and at her command, two ghostly creatures rose up through the floor at each end of the room. Next to each appeared a black flame mage, appearing in a silent black burst of ebony fire. 

The Lich Queen looked up from Valanthe, staring into nothing. In one hand she held an ornate silver sword, which she now released. The sword leapt happily into the air of its own, menacing Valanthe. Then the Queen furrowed her cracked brow, and the jeweled crown on her head shimmered with an evil power. There was a brief blur, and Scorch’s head snapped up quickly.

“Someone is playing with the timestream, and it wasn’t me.”

From her position, Valanthe could see Vlaakith now layered with enchantments. The Queen smiled for a moment, then stopped when she realized Valanthe was smiling back.

Over the link, Valanthe said “Now.” As she did, she brought ShadowCut down, not at the Lich Queen, but at the mirror. A scream shot from the sword, and the mirror was blasted to a thousand pieces. The white slaad, it too linked telepathically to Valanthe, teleported the group of us into the room, and into the midst of a very crowded scene.

For when the mirror shattered, those imprisoned inside were released. In addition to the Lich Queen and her four guards, all of us and the white slaad, the mirror released three demons, two succubus, an astral deva and a naked elf.

Vlaakith shook her head and sighed “They always break the mirror.”


**********


“Well I can’t say I’m surprised the Bitch Queen fled,” I said, trying to remain positive. “She really has no reason to stand and fight us, at least until we have that phylactery.”

“True enough,” Dravot agreed. “It’s not as if we expected to find her here anyway.”

“So,” I said, fishing a robe out of my backpack for the naked man “who the heck are you and how did you get here?” I realized that he was a Champion almost as soon as I saw him, but he had barely survived the battle after his release and he was in over his head.

The elf was not embarrassed or self conscious, but he accepted the robe gladly. “My name is Vikorond Stormbow. I was here on a quest to destroy the Lich Queen.”

“Hm… Now what do we do with you? I suspect it would mean your death if you stayed with us.” I looked over at the deva and asked “Can you perhaps send him home?”

The deva, a servant of Cuthbert, had all the sternness you would expect, but was also grateful at his release and very willing to help us. “Aye, I can return him to the Prime.”

“Now wait a minute!” Vikorond objected. “I am not a child to be dismissed.”

The tactical side of me knew immediately that he would be killed if he stayed. The _Horrid Wilting_ the Queen had unleashed during the fight had almost killed him instantly. Vikorond owed his life to Dravot for the healing he cured us all with a moment later. But my heart knew that were I in his shoes (or lack thereof) I would not wish to be so quickly dismissed either.

“Brother, please listen to me, I beg you. These are dark paths we walk, and dread creatures we face. You were fortunate to survive your first and second encounters with Vlaakith. I am not eager for you to try a third. You have felt her power – do you wish to feel it again? But this is not why I ask you to go. You are a Champion, Chosen of Corellian. If you felt you must do this thing, I would not stop you, but I will ask you for the sake of our people. Dark and chaotic times have come to Oerth. Celene’s enemies close from all directions, and the githyanki have invaded the Prime and assaulted our people. Celene needs _you_. We need every Champion we have to protect our home. I have, with great regret, come here and left Celene without my aid. There are more threats than just the githyanki, so even if we stop them here, others will seek to destroy our kind. Your gifts would go far to guarding our people. I ask you – please – consider this. Celene has been too long without your protection.”

Vikorond paused and thought. He had been imprisoned for over two-score years and surely the desire to return weighed on him more than my words. In time, he nodded saying “You are wise. I shall return.” We offered him what equipment we had handy, and the deva sent him home.

“How did you come to be bound here friend?” Dravot asked the celestial. 

“I was captured on a raiding party. Since I refused to bow or be bound, Vlaakith trapped me in the mirror. Mostly to amuse herself I suspect.”

Dravot nodded. “Should you wish to leave, please be careful – travel is harder right now. But if you wish to accompany us, we would surely welcome your aid.”

The deva did not hesitate. “I would be grateful for the chance to see justice done. I will aid you.” 

Besides the remains of the bone dragons and the fallen bodies of assorted fiends, the room held little of interest. The Queen’s dancing sword was tucked into Scorch’s Secret Chest; after having been temporarily disenchanted during the fight, the chest seemed to be the safest place for it. There were two glowing portals in the alcoves, and one of them was our path to the library. Hesitantly we stepped through, and were transported to the lower depths of the castle.

We appeared in a large cave. It was strangely comfortable here, not gloomy and oppressing like the palace proper. There were strange wisps and veils of a misty energy that drifted through the cave, whose walls were covered in crystals. We spread out and began our careful move through the cave system.

Valanthe spied two ghostly guards in the next chamber; a minor inconvience by this point. She and I crept into position and then destroyed them both before they could react. After we passed their post, Dravot stopped us. A password was required to enter the magically _Forbidden_ area ahead, but Pelor’s guidance provided the password and the enchantment let us enter.

The walls of the room were lined with scroll niches set into the mortar. Hundreds upon hundreds of bone scroll tubes filled these holes. In the center of the room were three lecterns crafted from red crystal in the shape of a dragon’s claw. A book was clasped in each crystal talon. Dravot announced “This is it. The library.”

Valanthe made a slow circuit of the room searching for the phylactery the red dragon told us would be here. In a hidden crèche in the center of the floor was a sealed metal box. It held a _symbol_ trap which Valanthe deactivated. Inside were several small scraps of paper and flesh with arcane writing. Vlaakith’s phylactery seemed to be at hand. Dravot carefully examined the scraps and the box. 

After several moments thought, he said “This isn’t it. We’re meant to think it is, but it is false. A decoy.”

Feh. Either the dragon was lying, ill informed, or the true phylactery had been moved. In any case we had chased through the palace for nothing. 

We searched the room thoroughly in case the true phylactery were hidden elsewhere in the chamber, but there was nothing else. The scroll tubes we took, but it would have taken hours to go through them all so we just tucked them away. Then there were only the books.

The claws each held their respective books rigidly. They were not enchanted in any way so there was no ready way to release the tomes. Scorch speculated that if the claws were animated they could then release the books. The white slaad heard this, and waved a clawed hand and the claws all opened in unison and the three books lay exposed.

[OOC Note: It is at this point that I won 5 exp on a bet with Wizardru. Wizardru said “The claws are not magical or mechanical. You can’t remove the books unless you break them, or use _Animate Objects_ or something similar.” I looked back at him and said quickly “White Slaad have _Animate Objects_ at will.” He looked at me and said “You’re making that up.” I bet him 5 exp and won. Considering I bet him earlier that Slaad could cast _identify_ at will, I’m surprised he took the second bet (as if he loses anything).]

One book was so replete with the stench of evil I didn’t need Aethramyr to tell me it was a foul work. Fortunately it did not need to be opened – the cover made it plain. It was The Book of Vile Darkness.

The second book was titled Vlaakith’s Maelific Libram. It was wrapped in the skin of a death slaad with her symbol on the cover. It’s pages contained every spell Scorch had ever heard of from the first valence through the fifth. This alone was enough to make Scorch giddy, but when he realized that the third book contained all spells from the higher valences, I thought he would pass out dead. He just clutched the two books and cackled. After a few minutes, he started talking to them. With any luck, they would keep him from getting curious about the Book of Vile Darkness. I would hardly welcome Scorch perusing it before we were able to destroy it.

As Scorch sped through the tomes, he saw that in addition to spells, the Libram also held instructions for creating the dragon/githyanki half breeds and detailed Vlaakith’s plans to turn all githyanki into such creatures. Something I’m sure would not be welcome by the General or the dragons for that matter.

“So what now?” Aethramyr asked. A fine question. Without the phylactery, there was little likelihood that Vlaakith would stand and fight us, therefore there was no point in trying to destroy her directly. There was the matter of Rackhir and Zara – they were in danger still, so we resolved to attempt to find and rescue them before any harm could come to them.

Aethramyr asked “But how are we going to find them? We do not know where in the palace they are being held.”

I just smiled. “Simplicity itself,” and removed an object from my pack. . It was a small gold arrow about a foot long and at the center was a small disk with a blood red symbol painted on it. Years ago, assassins had used it to find Dravot after he had Chavram’s mark inflicted on him. When the mark moved to Rackhir, the arrow then pointed to him. It took a while to get the arrow to settle down in the astral, but it eventually settled on a direction, mostly pointing back up to the palace proper.

Up we went.


----------



## WizarDru

*Dreams of Fire and Hate*

It_ burned_.

 The irony wasn't lost on him, but he found that his screaming drowned out any appreciation of the fact. Not for the first time, he struggled to be free. The result was no different, bound as he was to the vessel. After a seeming eternity, his body went limp, his hoarse screech finally fading to silence.

 A hand, sheathed in some form of armor, clasped his face and turned his head, hard. He felt it smack down on the metal of the vessel. No, not metal. Vitaesis. Bloodstone, from the look of it. It pulsed with energy. His energy? There was no way to know. This was an ancient thing, made by the Suel, perhaps. He had no way to be sure, but he'd guess that it was forged by wizards of the old empire, those who were most pure on this world. The puzzling thing was runes that were from the lexicon of the Storm Lords, those dark elves who Iuz had....

 His vision blurred and he heard a ringing sound in his ears. His captor had spoken. Stupid. He should have been listening. They might heal him...but only enough to keep him alive, so that he could experience more pain. Focus. FOCUS! He needed his wits about him. What was he saying...? 

     "_*...ask you again, southerner.  Which one is it?*"

_ What was he talking about?  He should know, shouldn't he?  It was so hard to think.  His veins, his skin.  Oh, how it *burned*.  Wait, wait....focus.  Look at the scarred face before him.  Who was he?   What did he want?

     The *theorpart*_. _

    "_Opp...oooppp...._", his voice offered only a croaking sound. He hadn't expected this to be so difficult. The man with scars on both sides of his face stood up straight and smiled. He absent-mindedly brushed away his cloak of rich red velvet, so close to his own, and yet representing something so different. "_Opportunity..._", he finally rasped.

 He waited, expecting another blow. It did not fall. The eyes in that face, they examined him, stripping away his soul the way the big one called the Fallen had stripped away his flesh. He could feel his resistance slipping away. 

     "_*Who are you ?*" _came the question.            _

      "I am Lord Justin Aptis, Merchant Prince of the Sea Barons. I...."   

    "*A lie.  That's not even the name you arrived with.  Again.  Who are you?*_" 

    "_I...I...," _now that it came to it, he wasn't sure. It was so hard to think. The blood that they had poured down his throat had made it raw, and it was doing...things in his belly. Awful things. _"I...am...Councilman Vesettis Roj of Greyhawk, leader of the moderates."

    "*Another lie. But closer, now. That was who you let yourself appear to be, to your enemies. I knew you, then. But who are you, really?*"

    "My...,"  _he gasped.  It was so hard, and his whole body was _burning._  "_My.  Name.  Is.  Passus. Krimsos. First. Legate. Of. Reoccupation._"

     " *The truth at last.  But they called you something else, didn't they?  A special name for your secret followers, yes?  I knew then, as I know now.  But tell my guests, and quickly.*"

    "_I am,_" he was sucking air like a fish, now.  Remembering was so hard.  "_I was known as the Red Lord.  Mine was the power of...fa-fa-fa-fire._"  There, he had said it.  The third act of shame.  His order could sentence him for the death penalty, now.  

 The scarred man laughed, as if Passus had told a joke. Had he been funny? The brute that he only knew as The Fallen grunted, clearly mocking him. The scarred man's guests, if that's what they were, appeared to be a bunch of men in masks and black robes covered in arcane scrollwork. They all stood stock still, waiting for...what?

 A voice came from behind one of the masks. An uncharacteristically lilting voice could be heard, a sharp constrast to the hideous demonic face with gilded horns.

     "_What does he mean, 'Opportunity'?_"         

     " *Simple.  There are three theorparts, each attuned to a different aspect.  Oppression, Opportunity, and Oblique.Those strong enough can make use of their power, but if you are not...compatible with them, it may not end well for you.    "

*"_It certainly didn't end well for him, did it?_"

     "_*Any more than it will for you, fool*."_ 

  Suddenly, the robed man's chest bulged, and then exploded in a shower of flesh and blood. It was the Fallen's clawed fist, clutching the robed man's still-beating heart. How had the armored brute had moved so fast? The Red Lord couldn't say. His senses were all askew to begin with, and he was even less likely to trust them, now. 

     Why had they killed the wizard?  For daring to speak?

 The others remained motionless, waiting. The scarred man seemed unperturbed, even as he stared at the pumping organ. The robed men all appeared tense, prepared to act. 

     "_*You shouldn't have made your puppet speak. I wouldn't have noticed you, otherwise. Not that I had any intention of letting any of these fools live. I declare this sham of a society dissolved. "

*_ Passus' eyes began to bleed as he heard the scarred man utter a single word of horrible power. Only one of the mages managed to disappear before hearing it fully uttered. The others screamed in pain, as blood erupted from behind their masks. Each one collapsed in a heap, save for the one still held up by the Fallen's meaty fist.

 No, not all of them. One still remained, stooped and bent, apparently unnoticed by everyone until now. A hideously ugly woman (was she a hag?) in stained grey robes hobbled forward, cackling ever so slightly. Her eye sockets were open and raw, and it was with a chilling terror that the Red Lord realized that the two small orbs that circled about her head were not Ioun stones, but those missing organs.  

     "_You are a very unpleasant person, Infernus.  My master *likes* very unpleasant people."_

     " *No doubt, hag, no doubt.  I have kept my end of the bargain....it is time that the Old One kept his.*"

   And for the first time in a decade, for no particular reason that he could name, the Red Lord began to weep.


         *    *    *    *    *    *

     " *Oh, CRAP*," the Brazen said out loud to no one in particular.
     "_*This certainly can't be good.*_"


----------



## Zad

*Shadows Rise and Shadows Fall - Chapter 9*

*OOC Notes: *
Experience is (drum roll please) 9100 for 21st level characters.

*Loot*
I’ll start working the books soon but for the sake of the curious reader…
Scale mail +5
+4 mighty composite longbow (+4 str) soul feeder
ring of protection +3
ring of sonic resistance, major
Crown of Corruption
Headband of Intellect +6
Bracers of Armor +8
Gloves of dexterity +6
Cloak of Charisma +6
Ring of Wizardry IV
Ring of Protection +4
Robe of eyes 
Ring with 12 keys, non magical
35,600gp in various gems, cash, and objets d’arte which were interesting to hear but not important to record
Rod of Wonder
+3/+3 dire flail
+2 chain shirt of fire resistance
+5 heavy steel shield
Wand of restoration (33 charges)
Wand of arcane eye (26 charges)
Cube of frost resistance

*This Week’s Adventure:*
As Valanthe crept back out into the cavernous passage to the t-intersection, something was just not right. She didn’t hear anything exactly. She didn’t see anything. But something was wrong just the same. The air was moving strangely – no wait, not the air but the wispy white strands. Something was disturbing their flow. To the left there was something very very large, and to the right something smaller moved about cautiously. Just as Valanthe warned us, a blade barrier appeared behind us, cutting us off from retreat into the library.

The being that created it was now revealed in the corridor – its face, once beautiful and statuesque, was melted, cracked and burned. The wings were celestial but there were many feathers that were missing or had fallen out. Under its arm was a pockmarked and rusted brass instrument of some kind, dripping with acid. The fallen angel raised the instrument to its lips, the fangs barely hidden behind them, and sounded a mournful dirge. The music washed over us but had no immediate effect, save to better convey the creature’s sadness and sense of loss.

I was not sure if this fallen angel could be redeemed or not – Dravot offered no plea so we moved in. We knew there was something else very large around the corner, but as one we put spell, blade and arrow into the damned archon. After a flurry of attacks it was inconvenienced but not seriously injured, but in our defense, we were just getting started.

Then the other ambusher surged forward and I caught a glimpse of it – a red dragon certainly, but I’d not seen any before with two heads – another of the Queen’s mutations no doubt. One set of jaws snapped at Dravot while the other bit at the Astral Deva with us. Worse, it was still invisible after the attack. The slaad however began removing the spells protecting the dragon and it popped into full view.

The archon drew a bow and fired several arrows, notably at Bolo, Aethramyr and several at me. The arrows were elf-slayers, but while each of us were hit, we also stood firm in the face of the dark enchantment, and returned the attacks back to the archon.

The dragon heads both reared back and one blasted the corridor with fire. Just as I was thinking I’d never seen such an intense immolation, the other head then did it again. The flames destroyed the fallen angel, and the deva as well. (I remember hoping he could rejoin the hosts now.) I was the only one far enough back to completely avoid the fiery destruction, but it seemed that everyone had managed to survive it.

Unfortunately I then realized I was wrong. A metallic crash ahead drew my eye, and I saw Thorkeld fall to the ground. Flames still danced on his armor and flesh, and there was little remaining of the paladin’s body.

The only small bit of good fortune was that with the fallen angel destroyed, we could now turn our full wrath on the dragon. I for one was planning on making it suffer, and Valanthe had already slipped behind it, her Dragonbane blade in hand. But before we could do anything more, Vlaakith appeared behind the dragon and teleported away with him. 

The hallway was empty now, except for the burning remains of the fallen and a feeling of powerlessness.

Dravot debated bringing Thorkeld back immediately, but it would take some minutes to accomplish the miracle. We were sure if we tried that, Vlaakith would certainly see to it that we were interrupted. So we wrapped his body quickly and placed him in the Bag of Holding. In the meantime, he can enjoy the Elysium Fields – he earned that much.

Rather than move towards the prisoners, we revised our plan. Perhaps it was instinct, perhaps it was thoroughness, perhaps just plain stubbornness. Was there something important down here? We didn’t know, but we started moving through the caverns methodically, determined to find the phylactery. Without it, we had nothing and the lich queen would continue to attack and run.

One side passage had a magical forbiddance protecting it, but the spell was so confounded by the enigmatic Valanthe, and simply gave up trying to affect her. We suppressed the effect and moved past it. Farther down was a large cavern. Stalagmites and stalagtites dotted the floor and ceiling, and there was a large central pillar of rock rising up nearly to the ceiling. Strands of rock shot off from the pillar in various directions in a way that could form only on the astral. But in the back of the cavern was a brightly glowing sphere, scintillating through every color. Occasionally a bit of the floating white webbing would brush the sphere and burst into flames.

Anything that warranted being protected by a spell of that power was surely going to be of interest to us. And that’s as far as I got before the attack.

The rock tendrils were not rock, and lashed into sudden and violent life. In an instant they were all speeding towards our group in the cavern mouth. The tentacles lashed at each of us, and I felt some of my strength fall away as it hit and I wasn’t the only one. Then, on the column of rock, the eye opened.

A roper. A roper bigger than any I’ve heard tell of. A looming, massive thing of a roper. It began to laugh.

“Hello, little insects.”

Then it cut its laughter short, and disappeared. It wasn’t invisible – I could have seen it if it had been. No, it was somehow camoflauged – hiding in the cavern. It’s ludicrous for something that large to just hide but that’s what it did, and well. Bolo suspected psionics were at work here. 

A massive _psionic_ roper. I sighed. I would have been gravely concerned, except that it called us insects. Nothing that ever did that lived very long.

I tried the old standby of Glitterdust, but the magic failed to affect the creature. Then I did the next obvious thing – I retreated. Those tentacles could quickly render us unable to move, or worse yet fling us into the prismatic sphere, so I moved back out of what I hoped was its range. The rest of the party quickly followed behind me, dropping a few destructive spells as they did. Then it reappeared, and it’s mudlike exterior hardened to look like granite, and then it disappeared again. But this time I followed it as it shifted slightly in the cavern, and I fired a volley of arrows at it. The roper howled and sweared to destroy us. True, it was unoriginal, but this thing might just do it unless we were smart.

The roper was really only half our worries. Vlaakith was out there, watching somewhere. Her and that dragon. Either one joining the fight would be a problem, and both could be fatal. Aethramyr hovered close to me to protect me, and used a quick spell on me; I wasn’t sure what it was but I’d learn later. We both knew I would need to attack that twisted roper from a distance, and he was going to make sure I got the chance to do it.

Bolo wanted to know what this creature was guarding, and asked Scorch if the sphere would extend into the ground below. Scorch said it did not, and Bolo’s outline wavered and he bent to the sleek form of a bulette and began digging under the cavern floor heading for the sphere. In no time he nosed up out of the ground and saw a jet black sarcophagus. It had no lid nor seam, just an inset carving of a circle on the top. As he got close, another warding spell detonated but Bolo resisted the compulsion to leave. Bolo called to Valanthe, who scurried down the tunnel he’d left and she examined the coffin carefully. The inscribed circle matched the arc fragment we had found earlier – a disassembled key of some kind, but we didn’t have the rest. Bolo tried to breach the sarcophagus but no spell or weapon seemed to make any impact on the black material. It was a jet black embodiment of protection that would not open by force of arms or spellcraft. Valanthe began working to deceive the coffin into giving up its prize, her unspoken hope the same as ours – that the phylactery lie inside.

So the roper was huge and powerful and psionic, but not infallible. It could not reach me down the hall, and could not fit out of the cavern. It’s psionics were powerful and it lashed out at me with concussive force several times, but I had wisely cast a _mirror image_ and he had little luck finding the real me. But my illusory duplicates were being destroyed quickly, and it was a close thing. For my part, I was moving so quickly as to begin to blur firing arrow after arrow at the roper. Once I lost track of it as he tried to hide, but for the most part I was able to find my target, and Scorch continued to blanket the cavern with destructive spells. Then the roper re-appeared and everyone was waiting for it – Scorch disintegrated a massive chunk of the ancient beast, and Dravot put up a blade barrier in a cylinder around it, to prevent it from moving to far without suffering the whirling blades. 

For a brief moment, I wondered if I could convince this unlikely ally of the githyanki that it would be better served to leave. “I’m surprised,” I said “a creature so intelligent and powerful could be so readily duped. Did the Queen tell you of us?”

It sneered back “She told me everything of you, Kayleigh.”

I laughed. “Everything? Did she really? Are you _sure?_ Perhaps she deceived you so you would stand and fight for her, not realizing the peril.”

It was intrigued, if only for a moment. “Are you making a counter offer?” 

I sighed. I didn’t think it’d be possible to bribe this creature, and the conversation seemed at a dead end. Aethramyr seemed to think so too, as he shouted “How about we offer you a quick death?”

Meanwhile behind us, my fears manifested. Vlaakith came flying around the corne, and I became glad for Aethramyr’s protection. The Queen was there, but the roper had to be dealt with and I needed to focus on it. The Queen did her level best to stop me however, and fired a black ray at me but it just hit with no effect. 

The horrid wilting that followed was going to be somewhat more painful. As the spell blanketed the hallway, I felt far less pain from it than I expected as I braced for it. But as I saw him convulse from the magic, I realized that my relief was bought at the price of Aethramyr’s suffering – he had cast _Shield Other_ and took my wounds on himself. 

But there was good news – Valanthe had proven to be more creative than those that built the unbreachable sarcophagus. It was nothing short of a miracle of skill and cunning but she had convinced it to open and inside was an adamantium box. She left Bolo to retrieve it and quickly came out the tunnel. 

Her pet slaad had been dropping multiple fireballs into the cavern, in the hopes of wearing down the roper. Normally vulnerable, this roper had shielded himself from fire but that defense was running out and he was looking pressed. 

“Insects indeed,” I said. And I fired again. The roper just whimpered and slumped, the tentacles flailing once and then collapsing to the floor. An ignominious death for something so old, but I’ve rarely seen death be gracious.

Everyone else had been pressing the attack on the Queen, and now we attacked with renewed vigor. Valanthe snatched the crown from her head, and the Queen shrieked in outrage. She yelled to the slaad “Dulak, serve your true Queen.” 

“Uh oh,” Valanthe said. “He broke contact with me. I think she has control of him now.”

One step forward, one step back. I sighed again. The slaad would have to wait. I readied a full set of four arrows on my string and let them fly but in my haste overpulled and the round was wasted as well as the spell I’d cast to make it strike true. 

It was time for a new approach. It was something Dravot and I had discussed as a tactical option, and it was time to try it. Dravot erected an _anti-magic field_ and with the deadened zone around him, he stepped close and grabbed on to Vlaakith. Now she was vulnerable, denied of enchantments and the means to escape. The only question was could we harm her under the same conditions? I wasn’t sure of the answer, but I knew Vlaakith would be terrified of it, and she was. She was in a bad way and she knew it. She never truly had control of this situation but she had lost quite any semblance of it now, and the frenzy was evident on her face as she struggled to break free of Dravot’s grasp. The strength of undeath was still with her and she wrenched free of Dravot, and wasting no further time she retreated down the hall at amazing speed.

No one was foolish enough to even consider chasing her. What had we gained? Time. Perhaps the most precious thing right now. Bolo emerged from the tunnel with the adamantium box, and Dravot looked at it carefully. After a moment he looked up and nodded.

This was it. They phylactery.

Without a word, Dravot set the box on the cavern floor and we all took a step back as Aethramyr hefted Shatterspike. He brought the blade down in a powerful overhead swing and sparks erupted as it struck the box. Cracks radiated throughout the metal where it was struck. 

A second swing. Time seemed to crawl as he brought the blue crystal blade down.

Sparks erupted again, and chunks of adamantium exploded outward. Dust and bits of skin and parchment burst upward in a mushroom cloud, bursting into flame as they rose. The box suddenly aged as if a thousand years passed in a second. 

From behind us, there was a huge rush of air as Vlaakith, the Lich Queen of the Githyanki, exploded into fragments of bone and dead skin and hatred.

We turned the corner moving towards her, and saw a new red dragon, freshly _gated_ in apparently. It was charging down the hallway towards us, and then started slowing. Slower. Slower. Stopping. It cocked its head to the side.

And it smiled. It charged back into the room at the far end of the hall, and we followed and watched as it destroyed the two-headed aberration. It was an intense battle but the outcome was never really in doubt and soon the red was standing over the limp body of the offensive mutation.

After it let the second broken neck of its foe fall from its mouth, the dragon moved towards what was left of Vlaakith’s body, staring at us the entire time. The staff symbolizing the githyanki alliance with the reds lay on the floor next to the remains of the Lich Queen. We were not surprised the dragon wanted it and without any actual discussion we seemed to all tacitly agree to let the wyrm take it, provided that was all it went after.

Without taking its eyes off us, it picked up the staff in a large foreclaw, and after being sure we were not acting to stop it, it snapped the staff quickly and let the pieces fall. There was a brief flash but nothing else to suggest the true power the staff held. I’m not thrilled at helping the reds – certainly we owe them no favors. But perhaps they owe us one now.

There was still a great deal to do – search the palace, release the prisoners, and put and end to the capture of the elven souls. But for practical purposes, it was over. Vlaakith was thrown down, and the githyanki were freed from tyranny. I can only hope this time they chose to remain free rather than subject themselves to a new tyrant.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*Bolo; Transformations.*

The queen of the Gith was destroyed and the staff ruined. Val, Scorch and Keyleigh were going over the treasure left behind and Aethramyr, Dravot and Zira were standing guard. Bolo looked around at the devastation and wondered if they were actualy finished here. He needed to get back to his new charges and find a way to hatch them when their time is due. He had named the Solstice and Equinox and his "children" were never far from his mind. 
It was a moment or two before he felt the energy boil up within him. He glowed a golden green color and felt an uncontrolable shift in his form. It was similar to what had happened at the First Ash but stronger and far more intimate. The others didn't even seem to notice so caught up in their own activities but soon Zira looked over at the druid and gasped.
"Pelor bless me! Bolo are you well? I have not seen you change like this before. You seem different."
The Brandybuck stood looking into a mirror he had removed from his haversack. (Trying not to disturb Thorkeld's body too much) His ears were no longer exactly elven and his body seemed to be more alluring. There was also a look in his eyes as if he had glimpsed creation and returned with a piece of it. 
"Oh yes. I'm wonderful. I've just gone through another evolutionary step towards my Feydom. But we'll speak more of this later. we need to return Thorkeld and return home." 

Bolo had much to attend to. His eggs, The Lone Tooth (that name had to change. he was no longer alone.) and rebuilding his beloved druidic circle.


----------



## Zad

*Shadows Rise and Shadows Fall - Chapter 10*

*Shadows Rise and Shadows Fall - Chapter 10*

*OOC notes:*
21st level characters get 2500xp
22nd get 2000xp

*Loot:*
Erm… there was rather a lot. If you’re a player, it’s posted to our boards. If you’re a story hour reader, you probably don’t want to see it all. Let’s just say it was a pretty big pile.

Also, the entire party has received some bonuses due to the experience within the dead god after following the small white light. Everyone received the following permanent adjustments: +1 wisdom, +2 insight bonus to initiative, +4 to saves vs death magic.

*This Week’s Adventure:*
We explored the rest of the caverns deep within the dead god. At one point two half-dragon gith attacked us and we broke them in half without breaking stride. It was probably a far kinder fate than they would have received from the githyanki. As we entered one cave, we spotted a small mote of white light that bounced and bobbled in the air. It seemed to beckon us, then floated off down another passageway. We followed it and it weaved down the tunnel and through another room filled with crystal stalagtites and stalagmites and finally into a large crack in the wall. The crack lead to a dead end, but as Valanthe moved down to examine the area, she suddenly froze and a nimbus of blue light surrounded her. After a moment it faded, she said she felt a presence flow through her mind. It was overpowering and yet invigorating. Thoughts and memories poured into her, images of places never gone and races she had never seen. It took her some time to recover her wits after the connection faded.

Dravot stepped into the niche to see if the same thing happened, and it did. He too was flooded with memories of what we assumed was the dead god. Some of the memories were from millenia ago, but others were quite recent, showing the lich queen and her activities. In order to grasp more of the tangle of memories, we each stepped to the end of the passage in turn and we each were bombarded with different images and rememberances.

We spent some minutes each discussing what we had seen, specifically about the lich queen. Between us all we were able to begin to piece together parts of the story. The lich queen had been using wishes to awaken parts of the dead god. (Scorch recognized the telltale signs of the powerful spell.) She was using the energy contained within the stolen souls of elves to power the magic. Her reasons were not entirely clear but it seemed she wanted to steal the dead god’s power or consume it somehow to become deific herself. Oddly she did not keep many of the elven souls here – or any others. Most were sent elsewhere. But the ones she used were weakened by her magic, and then released. When they are released they did not go on to Arborea, but went somewhere different, not on the astral.

It was very disturbing. Freeing the souls might prove more difficult than I had hoped.

We moved back upstairs, generally working our way towards where Rackhir and Zara were being held. The path took us into one room quite near the big ectoplasmic hallway where we first encountered the queen. The room was largish and circular with three black columns rising up to the ceiling. Around the edge was an obsidian shelf set into the walls, with twelve chests lining the room. Each chest was ornate and completely disctinct, most in a rather gruesome way. In the center was a protective circle, and encased inside was a dretch. It was a filthy, deformed creature, and it hissed and spat as it begged to be released.

It promised us riches, it promised us information. It said it would tell us where the phylactery was, so that we could defeat the lich queen. Anything, as long as we would release it. 

I was amused by this creature. It was quite a sniveling little thing, but it had no idea that we had already destroyed the lich queen. I asked it various questions, trying to see how much it really knew. I asked it to tell us what was in one of the chests and then if it was true, we might see that we could trust it and consider further deals. 

While this was happening, Valanthe was carefully checking one of the chests for traps. (It was made of hardened drider silk and seemed quite beautiful until you got close and saw that there were teeth and eyes imbedded in the webbing and the legs were pieces of drider legs.) Valanthe was examining the lock when she realized that we had a ring of twelve keys from the lich queen and she pulled out the keys and began flipping through them.

I was waiting for this, and watched the dretch carefully to see the reaction. When it saw the ring of keys, it realized where they had come from. It hissed and shouted, and in a blurred moment there was a marilith in the protective circle instead. I wasn’t expecting this but it hardly seemed to make much difference, save to lower the chances of the creature being freed. She shouted and screeched and crashed wildly against the barrier, pausing for moments to draw one of her blades slowly across her body, the blood thrilling her and incensing her further.

So I was still somewhat amused until we noticed the columns were beginning to move ever so slowly. My amusement vanished when Bolo stated that it was a black pudding, and seemed to have been held in stasis until a chest was opened. Then the trap became clear – the pudding would be released and destroy the protective circle etched on the floor, freeing the marilith. Quite clever actually. Based on the amount of pudding that was expanding, it was not unlikely that it would destroy all the treasure as well. 

Aethramyr and I took positions on opposite sides of the marilith since there was little we could do to the pudding. Bolo unleashed a fiery eruption across the pudding, and there was a lot of hissing and black acrid smoke. The pudding was weakened by this, so Dravot repeated the conflagration. The fires overwhelmed the pudding and it dissolved into puddles on the floor doing no further damage.

The marilith was outraged at this, and began shouting a torrent of colorful curses in some infernal language. Dravot gave a slight bow at the waist, then brought up his holy symbol and called on Pelor’s light to banish the demon. There was a great light, and the marilith was gone.

With that taken care of, we methodically sorted through the chests. They contained a wide variety of treasures – from gems and coins to pickled illithid brains and black hearts. It was quite a find and we carefully packed it all up for our next trip to Fuvex’s shop.

Some of the items were particularly unusual. One chest held a few vials of a milky grey fluid. Scorch carefully examined it, and was puzzled at first. But after some time he said that it was ectoplasmic resin, a substance he’d heard of more as a theory than anything else. It was the psychic residue of creatures slain on the astral plane. A wizard could use this to craft weapon with their own intelligence and personality. 

Another chest held eight ornate flasks. There was a sparkling golden liquid in each one. Again, it confounded the casual eye. But after Scorch spent some time looking and smelling, he placed the vial in the chest and closed it carefully and handed the entire thing to me.

“I think you better take care of this. It’s called ‘Death’s Ichor’. It is a sort of distilled soul, boiled down to the core essence and energy. This is all that remains of some of the elven souls that were stolen. This is what the lich queen used to cast her wish spells with.”

“Can we release the souls?” I asked.

Scorch shook his head. “They’ve been… purged of individuality, or perhaps ‘reduced down’ is a better description. In this form, there’s nothing we can do for them.”

“Then I’ll have to take it to a higher power,” I whispered, and carefully stored the chest.

Once we had taken the spoils of war, we moved out of the room. On some level I was hesitant; were we taking treasure from a fallen foe, or looting the githyanki national treasury? I wasn’t entirely sure, but this seemed to be more of the personal property of the lich queen, and if there was one thing I was sure of, it was that doing the right thing could be a very expensive proposition. The funds required to finance our small group could keep a large army in the field for years. If we were to continue protecting what was dear to us, then treasure would be required. It is, I suppose, simply the way things work.

Two rooms away, we found the prisoners and more. In a circular room, a mind flayer writhed on the floor in agony. Around it, eight githyanki zombies stared at it as it screamed and spasmed, enchanted by some kind of torture spell. Aethramyr was not indifferent to the suffering, and in one short stroke put the illithid out of its misery. But chained to the wall were Rackhir and Zara. Rackhir was unconscious but Zara was awake. He nodded to his sister but had little else to say. Given it was the first time he’d seen her face to face in years, I was expecting something more emotional, but he seemed quite stoic aobut the whole thing, as if he had just been waiting patiently for a ship to arrive. 

Rackhir was still very much Rackhir, which is to say he was much more comfortable once we put a weapon in his hand. Of course in his position, I suppose I’d be the same.

The two of them knew little of the palace layout but did mention a throne room that might have something to do with something, and so we went down to find it. As we came out of the shaft in the phane’s room, there was an unsettling presence. That presence soon made itself manifest and we were quickly surrounded by black flame warlocks and the large ghostly creatures we’d fought before. They were crowding into the room, but not attacking. They were just staring, largely at Valanthe.

Valanthe shuddered with a chill, and slowly brought out the Crown of Corruption, snatched from the lich queen’s head before she fell. All the black eyes followed the crown, apparently driven by its call. 

In retrospect, I suppose I hadn’t really expected to keep it. With something so manifestly evil, the only thing you can do is destroy it. And it was becoming clear that we needed to do that quickly. The crown however was no mean item, and even Shatterspike did not make a dent in it. But something evil can be countered by a greater good, and Dravot brought up the Light of Reason. Golden light poured out of the lantern and the crown hissed and nearly screamed as the metal melted away. It dissolved into pools of black slag on the floor, the eyes floating and slowly going dark as the evil poured out like so much foul water. As the crown dissolved, so too did the undead creatures it had spawned. The warlocks were all consumed in black flame, while the ghosts just faded quietly away.

But it was not without cost. The lantern, once bright and steadfast, now seemed dimmed. The holy protection that it had previoiusly extended was now gone and it simply burned like any other lantern. Dravot was not concerned – it could be recharged again, and he had planned to do so soon anyway.

Then suddenly something very welcome came – silence. The maddening screams and whispers of the voices that filled the palace finally went quiet, given peace in the destruction of the queen and crown.

We found the throne room. It was dominated by four obsidian pillars and a circle of blood on the floor. It was some kind of apparatus, inlaid with arcane symbols. It was this thing that would send souls flying across the planes to some other destination. Scorch spent nearly half an hour examining every detail about the wicked thing. What was surprising was not the function but the target. Most of the souls were being sent to Thanatos – a layer of the abyss. But some of them, perhaps one in five, were being directed elsewhere. Scorch could not be sure where without consulting charts and maps, but it was a layer of the abyss.

Once Scorch had all the notes he needed, we destroyed the device. It was quite unremarkable given how much trouble it had been.

While Scorch had been fiddling, we had looked out the palace windows. We could see a battle being fought across the outpost. It was hard to gauge sides or strength, but it the odds did seem to be heavy in one direction. We assumed this was the General elminiating any further resistance in the city. At this point we felt our task was done, and we elected to wait in the throne room before returning to our own plane. After an hour, a blond tiefling entered, flanked by two dwarves. One was half demon, and the other half angel. It was an odd group to be sure. She entered the throne room carefully – she was looking for us but not entirely sure what to make of us or if we’d be violent towards her.

“So… ah… did you kill the Lich Queen?” she asked carefully.

“And you are?” I questioned back.

“The General sent me,” she responded.

“Why didn’t the General come himself?” Scorch asked.

“Well…” her reply was slow in coming, and she was clearly spending time trying to craft it well. “… he said that you were a bit… unstable. Well, perhaps more like ‘unpredictable’. I mean if you were unstable I wouldn’t have taken the money to come in here now would I?”

Good enough for me. “Yes, Vlaakith is dead.”

She seemed relieved but still had the look of someone dealing with a poisonous snake. “Ah, good. Tell me about it,” and she took out a small book and a pen. 

We exchanced puzzled glances between ourselves. The thing about bards is if you don’t give them any information, they’re just going to make something up anyway, and you probably won’t like it. Bolo quickly provided the details of the assault and battle and she made notes along the way. After she had heard the tale, we were essentially done here. 

“Well, we have done what we came here to do,” I told her. “But please carry this back to the General: We fully expect all githyanki troops to be removed from the Prime and the war against the Prime to stop immediately. We are confident the General will do this for two reasons. First because I believe he is a man of his word. Second, because if he does not, we will kill those troops, and then return to Tu’narath and destroy this city and every githyanki in it.” I made sure to smile as I finished.

She nodded warily as she noted that down, starting to see why the General thought we were unstable. “The General also said you are welcome to take your ship with you. I’m not sure what you did to the engines but it’s of little use to him now. 

We beamed in response to that – we quite liked the ship as a means of getting about. And with that we left the Palace of Whispers (or not apparently) and floated across the sky to our ship. No one opposed us – indeed most seemed to go out of their way to avoid us or pretend not to notice us. Once at our ship, Scorch was able to open a gate and we glided back on to the Prime. 

Scorch reported no difficulty in forming the gate, but as we passed through, we each felt a chilling feeling in our bones like the touch of the grave. So profound was it that the air over the Land of Black Ice seemed warm by comparison.

We brought the ship in over the grove and landed without much fuss. And as Rackhir was reunited with his wife, I saw genuine emotion on his face. Not particularly strong, but it was there all the same. Truly he had earned some peace. With luck he’d find it here, with his wife and children, and the occasional attack from extradimensional beings.

Aethramyr contacted Lord Gelban who confirmed that the githyanki were in full retreat from the Prime. Also the reds have also retreated from the Prime, with one exception: Infernus. He was sighted by an agent of the Cupric who witnessed Infernus murder all that remained of the Horned Society. Lord Gelban also knows that Infernus has the Red Lord under his power, and the dragons believe Infernus has control of one of the theerparts. 

Then I heard a scream. It was Bolo. He came running into the house we were in shouting “They’re gone! They’re gone!” 

What was gone? The eggs. The githyanki eggs. I wasn’t sure what he was planning for them but I was sure the idea was not fully thought out. But now it seems the eggs were gone. 

Ravenna calmly looked at him. “The githyanki hunting party came to claim them and the silver swords from the battle here. They looked very determined and we did not give them much resistance.”

Bolo looked back at Ravenna and blinked, unsure what to say. And then he just went off with a lost look on his face.

With things here calm, I had matters of my own to attend to. It’s not that I feel unwelcome in this grove, but at the same time I always feel like an outsider. And since I had some pressing matters of my own, this was a good time to tend to them.

I took Dravot aside and said “Earlier you said you had the spell to open a gate also?”

Dravot nodded.

“I would ask you a favor then. Can you open a gate to Arborea?”


----------



## Zad

I’ve never been to Arborea. I can’t even recall having read much about it, so I’m not sure what I was expecting. I suppose I thought it would be a lush, natural forest. Whatever I was expecting, this wasn’t it.

The landscape before me was a white sandy expanse of desert, with hardly anything in sight save more sand. After some looking I did make out a tower in the distance, and so I went that direction since it was as good as any. As I drew closer I could see that the tower was made for creatures much bigger than elfkind and it was little more than a ruin sticking up from the sand at an angle. I was considering checking inside, but through a window I made out the profile of a large insect apparently waiting for people to do just that.

From the tower I could see other ruins farther off, and moved towards them. It was some kind of fallen city big enough for giants. The stone faces were worn smooth by the constant winds and I could make out the high tower of what was probably once a castle, now half buried in the sand.

Before I went further, a large gust of wind blew by, knocking me over. It swirled into a vortex ahead of me and eventually resolved into a humanoid shape. The figure was vaguely elven with a greenish tint to the skin. He stood before me in just simple green pants, a gold necklace and tiara his only other attire. But whatever he was, the wind did not seem to touch him. 

I stood up and dusted myself off, and greeted him. He was quite cordial, and downright helpful. “Well hello traveler. Have you come to plumb the secrets of the lost giants?”

I looked back at him confused. “What giants?”

“Why the giants that were here of course. You came to see what happened to the forest here, did you not?”

“Well, no actually I didn’t. I came to speak to one of the celestial host of Corellian about a matter of elven souls. But I don’t seem to have arrived where I expected to.”

“Ahhhh no not at all. You are on the wrong layer you see. The planes are complex things, my dear. You need to go to Arvendor. There you will find Corellian’s Court.”

I smiled, glad to have some guidance in this wasteland. “And could I perhaps impose upon you to tell me how to get to Arvendor?” I made a mental note to pay more attention to this “layer” business – apparently it makes all the difference.

He smiled back. “I suppose we can set this to rights. I can take you there easily enough my dear.” I took his offered hand and there was a rush of divine power. In a moment we were standing in the lush, almost savage forest I had imagined. Moments after we arrived, a storm rolled in from the ocean and rain started pouring down on the greenery.

“You are very kind to help a lost elf girl on her way,” I said. “Can I perhaps impose on you yet a bit more to point me towards the Court that I may continue my journey?”

Rather than answer, he said “Forgive my asking but I might better help you find someone if I knew why you came to Arborea.”

“No forgiveness is needed – you have been very helpful and there is no wrong in asking. I have with me the souls of some elves. I’m not sure how much you are aware of events on the Prime, but many elven souls were stolen by the githyanki. I’ve helped put a stop to that business, and in doing so recovered these distilled souls from the lich queen’s palace. In their current state, they cannot be returned to their rightful destiny, and I was hoping one of the host might be able to do more for them.”

The creature was now standing a bit straighter, his manner less at ease, more serious. “I must tell you that the hosts will not speak to you, Kayleigh, now that I know who you are. I cannot explain why.”

I just stood there, a bit shocked. I hadn’t really expected Corellian himself to appear before me and sing my praises, but I hadn’t expected to be simply ignored either. After a moment, I began to realize it was not me so much as the current state of celestial and fiendish affairs. We had been told already that the celestials had withdrawn in many ways, and this was surely just another ramification of the same events. But I was surprised to find a part of me felt slighted all the same.

Some of this must have flashed across my face and my guide tried to explain. “It would violate certain agreements. I can tell you that there are powerful entitites within the host that are aware of this transference but we are forbidden from acting in certain capacities. I cannot say more.”

For a moment I wasn’t sure if there was a hint there for me. I’m not forbidden from acting in any capacity I chose. Was there an implication that I was supposed to take a certain action?

I decided to try another tack. “But the interdiction has violated agreements, and nobody seems to be worried about that.”

“Oh not so. Retaliation has been made and penalties have been assessed. But direct intervention would harm us more than them. Take this rock – “ and he picked up a stone. “It has good heft, but it’s brittle. Now let’s say we make an agreement you and I. We agree to leave it on the ground. But I break that agreement and take the rock and threaten to throw it. Our direct involvement would be problematic. Or if you like, imagine a giant burning hand trying to pick up an ant. Such is the level of power we discuss.”

I just stared back at him, confused and unsatisfied. I understood his point, I just didn’t care for it. He tried again to convince me. “I must choose my words carefully for fear of violating any agreements, or any promises that _have_ been kept. You, and your companions, are in many ways agents of divine will. Sometimes directly, and sometimes more subtly. But events transpire that are invisible to you but still aid in your cause. You _do_ have allies. Not just the dragons but others as well. Some of them are not so puissant but who’s influence is great. The saints – both Dravot and the one you freed – work to your aid. As does the ghost who walks with your shadow friend.”

With that he seemed to remember something and went off on a new direction. “Beware on the shadow plane. There have been more battles. Sceadutine still stands but its influence barely goes beyond its walls now.” But then he returned to his original thought. “We are desperately working to avoid a full scale celestial war. We do not wish this to come to pass, but if Rauxes is not contained, it may come to that. If that happens, it will be another Flight of Fiends, but this time with celestials and fiends battling across the Prime.”

“You should be wary. The enemy is not only aware of you now, but they actively move against you.” 

_“What else is new.”_ I thought. If the creature knew, he just went on unfazed.

“They can no longer place you in a relatively small box and assume you are only a threat when you are present. You’ve been a little too proactive lately.” I couldn’t help smile at that. It’s hard to feel bad about that kind of thing after all.

“I skirt danger by telling you this: the master of thanatos ties together much. However he is not your real enemy. Rather, he is the one who is capturing elven souls but he is not the one who facilitates it. He is the one the hosts are moving against, slowly, but unless he breaches Celenian soil or the ancient holies of Highfolk, or violates certain fields in the desert that were once elven lands, Corellian cannot move against him. Two wrongs will not make a right.”

It was at this moment that I was struck by a sudden realization: while many powerful beings were trying to tell me something without telling me something, so far the clearest of them to follow was Olidamarra. This may signal the end of the universe as we know it.

“I can’t say I completely understand why the host won’t speak to me. But that leaves me without a means to help these poor souls I brought with me. Is there anyone else who can help them? Someone who will speak with me?”

He paused briefly and then said “I can take them to beings who can help them if you wish.”

I handed him the chest, hoping I was doing the right thing. “Thank you. I hope you can bring them the peace that I cannot.” And with that I started looking around a bit, wondering what I should do next. I hadn’t exactly planned out a way to get back home – I was hoping that one of the celestials would be able to help. He seemed to realize the predicament and asked “Did you have a way to return to your own plane?”

I looked down “Well, no… not as such. I had hoped that one of the host might be able to help me there as well.”

“Ah I see,” he answered, and smiled slightly. “Well I suppose I can help you there as well. Brace yourself…”

The wind blew up once again, and I felt the chilling cold of passing through the Interdiction again, and arrived many miles south of the Land of Black Ice. I could see one of the ruined vitaesis towers that dotted the former border to tell me where I was. But it wasn’t where I wanted to be – I then realized that perhaps I should have asked for an arrivial within Celene. Two teleports eliminated the omission however, and I was soon within the palace in Celene.

I was pleased and relieved to see the palace was again bristling with pleasant activity. The hallmarks of war were still around but the court was largely returning to its usual business and pleasure. A page found me before I could find her, and showed me to the Queen, who was still handling matters of state in the Library-turned-War-Room.

The Queen seemed very pleased to see me. “We take it your mission was successful given that the githyanki are retreating?”

I curtsied and she waved me up. “Yes Your Majesty. The Lich Queen Vlaakith is destroyed. I believe the githyanki general will keep his promise and remove his troops, knowing full well what we will do if he does not.”

The Queen was practially beaming with delight. “Excellent. Celene owes you and all your friends a debt. When will they be returning for the celebration?”

“Celebration, Majesty?” I asked.

“Yes, to celebrate your victory and offer our thanks to you all. I will arrange it at whatever time you are able to return here, which will I’m sure be very soon yes?” The last was not a question so much as an insistence.

“Of course Your Majesty,” I smiled. “Is there anything else of note happening?”

“No,” she said. “We have lost track of Chavram and his gnoll army, but otherwise there is little of note.”

“Ah, I believe he is traveling with his army via the Underdark, but I do not know his destionation,” I replied casually. I must admit I had forgotten that might be significant. “Oh but I do have a question Majesty. Who currently rules Thanatos in the Abyss?”

Then a voice hissed out behind me and a chill filled me. “Thanatos? Difficult to say.” I whipped around and saw a white slaad standing in the throne room, carrying a staff.

There was a time when I would have fired a full volley of arrows before anyone could have stopped me. However as my skills have grown and my reactions gotten ever faster, I’ve started to be more willing to hesitate, knowing I could still defend myself and in this case my Queen. But my posture had changed and I was clearly ready for battle, my fingertips lightly falling on feathered shafts. 

But the if the Queen knew how close I was to attacking, she did not show it in her casual reaction. “Be at ease, my dear. He is a mercenary under our employ. We have realized that our extra-planar intelligence has been lacking of late, and so we have hired Durth to aid us.”

I looked carefully at the Queen, still mindful of the slaad. “_She might have told me that sooner,”_ I thought. _“Lucky I didn’t fill him with arrows. Of course the he probably has his reflection magic activated but still…”_ 

The slaad seemed calm, but I suspect he was not relishing the notion of a duel with me any more than I was. I was mistrustful but if it was the Queen’s will, then so be it. “So then, tell me Durth – who rules Thanatos?”

The slaad stroked his chin a moment. “It is difficult to follow. Perhaps the drow. Perhaps others. There are also other rumors that the original ruler has returned.” 

I had a hunch what the answer was and was waiting to hear the words. “And that would be?”

“Orcus.”

I should win a prize for that. Actually, wait, no. It was too easy.

The Queen had no further need of me so I excused myself to return home and get some rest. It had been quite the long day.


----------



## Zad

*Undying - Chapter 1*

*Undying - Chapter 1*

(or “The Road to Rauxes” starring Bob Hope and Bing Crosby)

*OOC Notes:*
Exp is 2000 this session

Note for the readers (ok for Nifft really): We’ve opted to revamp the Arcane Archer class to something different as detailed in the thread in the House Rules forum. This means Kayleigh’s abilities have shifted slightly, in case you got confused.

*Reviewer’s Corner:*
Well we’ve completely wrapped up the _Lich Queen’s Beloved_ module published in Dungeon #100 (part of the _Incursion_ cross-over event) and had some time to think about it. And we’re all agreed that it is an excellent module and well worth any DM looking at. It’s one of the rare modules that tries to tackle high level play and does an outstanding job at it. This isn’t just a matter of balanced encounters, but more a matter of basic _intelligence_. The enemies presented have depth and seem intelligent and logical. They react to the PC actions, and the lich queen, who has defended herself from many adventurers over time, reacts in a very believable and tactically sound way to her enemies. 

The module also does not try to strangle high level players or simply negate their abilities as a way of dealing with them. The players earned their abilities and having an environment that takes them away is not only unjust but contrived and something of a cop out. It simply reduced play back to the first level dungeon but where it says “kobold” cross that out and insert “dragon”. Not so here. In some cases there are particular counters for PC abilities (divination blocking for instance) and in others, they’re just assumed into the equation. 

Overall this adventure is a must-read for any DM looking at high level play. Even if you don’t choose to use it directly, it’s a fine example of how a high level module should read and definitive proof that high level play has no problem including dungeons. One of the reasons I wanted to comment on this specifically is that we’ve noticed a number of threads on high level play (and the lack of viability thereof) and we wanted to take a moment not only to point out the good work of the writers, but show anyone reading a fine example of a high level adventure.

(Disclaimer: not everything we encountered was part of the module as written. A few monsters were added – specifically the advanced psionic roper of legend and the phane, largely due to the fact that the six PC’s were a bit over the specified levels for the module. Also it’s up to the DM to tie this adventure into the campaign – the entire battle on the Prime was not part of the module directly. Mind you that remembering how we wiped out an attacking force of 500 githyanki is something that will always make us smile. I include this partly to let you know what was there as written, and to remind everyone that while you can use things as a drop in, if you add some time and story-glue, you can get a piece that fits so perfectly into your campaign it looks like you planned it for years.)

*This Week’s Adventure:*
So we came to the question of what to do next. There was certainly no shortage of things on our list for attention – it was more a question of when to do which. Some of us favored a fast strike on Rauxes – the situation had clearly gotten out of hand and we wanted to strike quickly before our enemies would be expecting us. But most of the group favored waiting a few days, and this is the course we followed. I was in favor of a fast strike – our enemies would know that we had killed the Lich Queen and they would know we had returned. They would be expecting us to follow our normal pattern – rest and prepare. That’s why I wanted to do something unexpected. But I confess I was tired – it had been all of two days since we had defeated the ShadowTaker, and I could use a rest in an elven bed.

While I was still in Celene, I stopped to find the new “advisor” to the Queen. The slaad was lurking around and wasn’t particularly hard to find. I had hoped he would have some understanding of the “bargain”; it was becoming most disturbing. Indeed he had quite a lot to say on the subject, but nothing we hadn’t already learned. I badly want to know who the parties in this bargain are, but he did not know, save for one formerly being the ShadowTaker. He knew of some death slaad who sought to investigate and perhaps serve one of the parties involved, but they never returned. 

The Queen wanted to thrown a grand celebration and we settled on two days time. But there were things to do in the meantime, not the least of which was to find a new dress and jewelry. I returned the next day to the Land of Black Ice to prepare for the inevitable trip to Sigil that always followed our adventures any more. When I arrived, Scorch was waiting for me, holding the lich queen’s sword. 

“We have a problem here,” he said.

“Of course we do. It’s probably some state sword for the Githyanki. If we’re lucky, it was just something Vlaakith created and we could dispose of it, but that was just my hope,” I smiled at him.

“No. You don’t understand. This sword. This is Gith’s sword. It was revealed in a _Legend Lore_,” Scorch added seriously.

There was only one answer possible, and I gave it. “Feh.”

We had planned to dispose of silver swords we had obtained. Most likely they would filter through Sigil back to the githyanki, which was fine as far as we were concerned – they were hardly worth fussing over at this point. But this… this was something entirely different. Bolo put an idea forward that had merit: he proposed offering it to Her Fey Majesty of Celene to use as a tool to broker a peace with the Githyanki. The group thought this was a sound idea, and would likely produce more good than any use we could put it to, and so it was agreed. When I brought the sword to the Queen the next day, she was very pleased and would do just that. 

*****

I opened the door to Tsvar's Curios and Objectals, but was stopped short by a pile of boxes behind the door. I squeezed in sideways and saw that the entire shop was almost completely filled with boxes, shipping crates, bags, and other containers. I slid between the various stacks and found a tiefling bent over a desk talking to an assistant.

“Mister Fuvex-vex-vex. A pleasure to see you again. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

He turned to me and stood up, his face positively beaming. “Not at all Lady Kayleigh.” He waved at the assorted crates which I realized were all empty, waiting for something, and said “In fact, I have been expecting you.”

I smiled and nodded. “I thought you might have been. Excellent. Let’s get down to business…”

*****

Dravot had done a _Sending_ to an ambassador of the Great Kingdom inquiring on the current state of things in that area. The reply was disturbing.

_“Heard you were dead. Where the hell are you? In a tight bind here.” _

You would think an ambassador would understand how to deal with a simple sending but apparently not. On the second try Dravot received this answer:

_“The Overking is missing, the city is evactuated. Our forces in retreat. They assaulted us without warning and we were headed out for”_

Not perfect but more useful. So the forces of Rauxes are on the move and have taken Kalstrand, the capital. Rauxes needed dealing with, and soon. This prompted the question of what else was happening out there, and we contacted Lord Gelban to see what the dragons knew of the situation.

Lord Gelban told us that you cannot fly very close to Rauxes – over a mile away there is a field of death that protects it, hiding what moves within. But outside of the field, legions of zombies, ghouls and wights muster, waiting for orders. There are countermeasures in place specifically against good dragons as well. However they believe the remainder of the black dragons now lurk there. 

It then occurred to me that we have long taken the “Containment of Rauxes” for granted but I never actually knew what was contained there. When I asked, I learned that neither did Lord Gelban. The evil dragons knew, but they never shared this information – a source of some contention he noted. He knows that Ivid the Undying broke some barriers and let loose things that should never have been freed. Most of the clerics involved in the containment were killed so the knowledge of what lies within is lost. Those who did not die were turned insane by whatever evil they touched there. 

Bolo asked if perhaps a Primal was there, and it was a thought that had crossed my mind as well. But Lord Gelban felt there was nto. Primals do not generally involve undeath – they are definitively powerful but they are also simple. Fire is fire and nothing more, but animating a corpse is a complicated business with interacting forces and that is not characteristic of the Primals. It is assumed that Ivid had a stockpile of his most foul creatures in Rauxes. What is not known is if he released something as a last-ditch effort or if there was some divine or demonic influence. 

Nonetheless Rauxes is marshalling its forces and beginning to overrun cities on the east coast. The capital is in a state of chaos. Lord Gelban had no information on the fate of the Overking but most of the surrounding cities were taking in many refugees, including Hexpools which is now relatively safe. The Cupric believes that the Black Brotherhood faction of the Scarlet Brotherhood may be in league with Rauxes but not truly understand what is happening.

And while Rauxes moves, somewhere underground is Chavram’s army. The question is are they allies?

*******

The celebration was a grand one – the grandest I could ever remember. There was little enough to celebrate in recent years, and truly this was a good reason. It was a bit overwhelming to think of it being for us, but not so overwhelming that it made me enjoy it any less. 

I had been at the palace preparing the last day, but the rest of the group was arriving that evening. The Queen’s own dressmaker was putting the finishing touches on my gown, and in the meantime I spent a completely decadent day of baths in scented oils, massages, and having my hair done. When it was all done, the result took my breath away. The shopping for fabrics and jewelry was enjoyable on its own, but the end result made me feel like a princess more than a returning hero. Not that I was complaining even the least little bit. Tonight I felt like a Lady, and while the lack of my usual arsenal of enchanted equipment left a strange empty feeling, it was more than compensated for by the way the celebration made me feel. 

I made my way down to one of the many designated areas for magical transportation and took no small delight in the whispers and looks that followed my passing. There were several areas, as much to prevent accidents as to prevent diplomatic incidents. The entire palace was decorated in grand style, with floating will-o-wisps providing gentle illumination as twilight set in, and I walked in no particular hurry, taking in all the night offered. Just after I reached the garden area, Scorch transported them all to the palace. At their arrival, a half dozen pages went off in various directions to carry word while another stood ready to bring us to the main reception chamber.

We worked our way through the palace, in no particular hurry. At least I wasn’t – it would have been improper to move past the different groups without stopping to say hello or a few pleasant words. The page seemed a bit impatient but this was a matter of politeness and tradition. Dravot also knew these customs, and always shared a few words when passing dignitaries he was aquainted with. Indeed there were groups of people all over the palace, some more concerned with their appearance and location than others, all of which had subtle significance. 

As we moved through the palace, I noticed more than a few elven courtiers taking notice of Scorch. Or perhaps it was more the black robes he was wearing, embroidered with an ornate gold brocade. I wasn’t sure where they came from but I started wondering if they had some significance. 

The page said that the Queen would receive us in the formal audience chamber after which the party would retire to the outer gardens. When we came to the chamber, I could see a vast array of dignitaries – humans, dwarves, various elves, halflings, even a few gnomes. Their dress and bearing marked them as being from all over the Flanness – I made out representatives from the Uleks, the Yeomanry, Keoland, Bissel, Steirich, even a pair from Ket. 

The Queen was near the throne, wearing a magnificent dress of green starsilk that flowed down several stairs before her. Near her was Onselven, wearing formal court robes and carrying an elaborate staff. The Queen stood up before Her throne and raised a hand, and all conversation ceased. And with all eyes on us, She brought us each into Her presence Herself. 

“Behold these virtuous heroes and defenders of Celene, indeed of all nations. Protectors of the Prime and Most Favored of Our Court.”

“Lady Kayleigh Ladanna’al, Champion of Corellian and Celene.” As She called me, I went before the throne, trailing the midnight blue hues of my starsilk gown moving with me, and curstsied before the Queen. All eyes went with me as I did, and I made sure to catch Aran’gel’s stare and smile back at him as I went. It seemed all the preparation was well worth it, as I took his breath away too.

“Sir Aethramyr, Blade of Twilight, Chosen Champion of Sehanine.” Aethramyr looked perfect in fine but understated elven court dress. His confidence and serenity filled the hall as he came before the Queen, and I could see priests of Sehanine scattered in the crowd looking at him with special reverence.

“Lady Valanthe of Dyvers accompanied by Lord Hammer of Greyhawk.” Valanthe showed no hesitation as she moved down the aisle with all eyes upon her, but I swear I could see a grin on Hammer’s face thinking about how many people could see her all at the same time.

“Scorch, Master of the Grey Guild of Greyhawk.” Where each of us drew hushed whispers according to our nature, the tenor of the whispers as Scorch entered was somewhat different but it made little difference to him as he came forward, seeminingly indifferent to the ceremony.

“Lord Dravot d’Chandagnac, Baron of Brindinford, Living Saint of Pelor. At his side, Dame Zira bin Telbara, Paladin of Pelor, daughter of Ekbir, Sir Zara bin Telbara, Paladin of Pelor, son of Ekbir, and Sir Thorkeld, Lion of Brindinford, accompanied by Lady Thora d’Chandagnac.” They came together, as they always did of late, but this time it was for richly deserved thanks. Dravot today was more the nobleman than the priest, in a fine silk tunic in house colors, with only the holy symbol of Pelor to mark his faith. At his side, Zira wore a beautiful coat-hardie, ice-blue with small white and blew gemstones. Thorkeld and Thora made a lovely couple, he in an embroidered tunic similar to Dravot’s in his own colors, while she wore a silver dress with an elven style. 

Zara… well, he tried. To others he looked strong and proud – but to those that knew him, he plainly didn’t want to be here.

“Master Bolo, Guardian of Beory’s grove, and Lonetooth, guardian and protector.” I suspect the lion drew more stares than anything else. 

The Queen went on to describe our deeds in flowery but simplified terms. It was largely accurate – only once or twice did I raise a skeptical eyebrow. As she came to the destruction of the Lich Queen, she brought forth the silver sword of Gith.

“Know all that these defenders have turned over this powerful blade to Us, with the hope that it can be a tool to open a dialog with the githyanki in an attempt to reach an accord and find peace for the future. Since this is something that involves all the Flanness and with the lessons of the Greyhawk Wars in mind, We have opted to include representatives from many nations in these discussions.”

Then a new voice called from the throng. It belonged to an elf who was of slightly darker skin than usual, and it took me a moment to realize that this voice spoke from the Valley of the Mage. He said “What of those who have agreements already with the gith?” 

The Queen was casting a wide net indeed, or perhaps it was more a statement of the times that an ambassador from the Valley of the Mage stood in the Celenian court. 

The Queen answered “That is a matter that stands between the two of you then, however with the death of their queen, such an agreement may be voided. But you may want to stand with your neighbors that we may all leverage our weight together.”

Whether the valley elf was satisfied or not, the Queen considered it closed and went on. “For you see, while these are powerful defenders of the Prime, they cannot be everywhere at once. Should there be a full war, millions would die, and such a costly thing is not necessary. I will engage certain diplomats at my disposal to broach these subjects with the githyanki. Over the next days, the assembled ambassadors will be approached. We place this sword on display here tonight, that you may see and know it true. Let the celebration begin!”

The Queen left the blade hanging in the air and moved down the stairs to the garden, and the party truly began. There was music, fine drink, dancing, even fireworks supplied by the dwarves. I spent a wonderous evening feeling even more like a princess. I made sure Aran’gel stayed at my side the whole night and it didn’t even take much effort. We spent the night drinking, dancing, and being social. I think I must have been personally thanked by half the Flaness. It was perhaps one of the most wonderful nights of my life. I did what I did because I could and because it had to be done, but there was certainly no harm in being thanked for it just the same.

The others each had slightly different nights. Scorch spent most of the night talking to assorted arcanists in quiet corners. It seemed there were many wizards now without a home and they were looking to Scorch. Some of them were even formerly of the Horned Society, though of no particular rank.

I learned later that the ambassador from the Valley of the Mage approached Dravot with a most unusual proposition. 

“The mage who has always led our kind has always been a mage and always been human. There has been more than one though that is not common knowledge beyond our borders. The mage’s name is Jonathan, and is always called Jonathan. Jonathan has died – he was assassinated. We are not sure if it was githyanki or something else, though we know the githyanki had no interest in our souls. We seek someone who would take up the mantle and protect our valley. And so I come to you, priest. What would you say to your friend doing this thing? Is he worthy?”

Dravot was shocked but covered it well. After a moment, he said carefully “I believe he is worthy, yes. But as to what his goals and plans for himself are, I cannot say. This you would have to take up with him. If you wish, I offer to act as an intermediary.”

The elf considered and responded “This would be most helpful. Perhaps he can discover who slew Jonathan. If the valley is long unprotected and it becomes known, the Yeomanry or someone else may try to take the valley back.”

[OOC: At this point I’d like to note that two things happened at the game session. First, Wizardru looked at Scorch’s player and said “Oh I’m gonna have *such* fun with you.” Second, we all started calling him “Jonathan”. “Hey, Jonathan, pass the chips.” And so on.]

It was a night to remember for everyone.

*****

The plan was fairly simple: reconnaissance in force. We would teleport to Brindinford and from there wind walk up the river to Kalstrand. On the way we would assess the situation and possibly attack targets of opportunity. As we cruised up the river, we saw the occasional bit of wreckage and soon came to a pile of dead bodies in the river partially blocking the flow. Some of the bodies were undead, crawling around like insects on a corpse. Many were zombies, while others were “the drowned”. The river itself was not obstructed but we took a moment to destroy the zombies just the same. There was evidence in the area of organized troop movements as well. As we moved further, we could see skeleton shock troops or squads of zombies led by ghasts. Bolo could make out tracks of some kind of other creature that was much heavier than anything else. At one point we saw an undead eyeball floating in the air, just watching. 

A mile farther we saw large swaths cut into the forest. The sections had been cut by undead who continued to fell trees and smaller brush near the river. The pattern of the paths seemed rather random however and made little sense until Bolo drifted higher to better see the pattern. He then realized that if the river were to flood, the missing trees would mean massive damage from erosion. The whole thing seemed rather subtle and pointless for an undead army but there must be a reason. Rather than move towards the city, we moved farther up-river to see if we could find any other unusual activity.

It didn’t take long before we were hearing more chopping and some buzzing sounds. We came around one bend and saw it – undead laborers working on a dam. No not a dam, a floodgate. It wasn’t being built to last but they were going to use it to release a great deal of water at once. 

The construction crews were zombies and drowned. In the area, fast moving skeleton patrols moved on their routes. There were also two large golem-like creatures – as if someone stretched metal skin over a huge skelton. Bolo thought this was the creature whose large tracks he saw. In their chest was some kind of glowing energy source and they looked reminiscent of a devourer. Scattered around were three undead eyes watching the operation and there was a human standing on the dam who seemed to be in charge.

We had found our first target of opportunity.


----------



## WizarDru

Zad said:
			
		

> Personally my thinking was there was no _need_ to ransom it back for peace - we already *have *peace through superior firepower. We got the kind of peace you get when someone attacks you and you beat the crap out of them and they know full well you can do it again. We got the kind of peace you get from your enemy knowing that if they so much as look your way again, you'll go back and this time you won't leave anything or anyone standing.
> 
> That said, the sword is still a hot potato and this is as good a way to dump it as any. And as the Queen said, we can't be everywhere at once. I'm not sure how good this "peace" will do since the githyanki may end up being fragmented now rather than united under one leader, but we shall see.



The future, of course, is uncertain, and there's no question that the Gith are no longer unified, per se. However, you didn't really face the whole of the Gith nation, just it's oppresive leader and her cadres of the damned. And while there's little question that you can kill just about anything the Gith have to throw at you, that's a loser's game that they're not likely to play. Because, as the Elven queen pointed out, if they came at the prime with everything they had, particularly guerilla-style, then it becomes a butter-eating contest, as Homer Simpson might say. There are limits to what brute force can accomplish...especially if your opponent doesn't care whether he lives or dies.


----------



## Zad

Bah, you want long range thinking?!? The devil you say! 

It's odd how we have gone from a limited tactical element in the world to one that can have a broad strategic impact on the global scene. Our thinking has changed but probably still lags behind. Astute readers will notice that there is *never* a shortage of things on our "to do" list lately - there is a lot of things we want to investigate/smash/take a hand in, not to mention fighting fires (githyanki invasion? what?). When you operate like this all the time, it's a struggle some days to see the bigger picture. It's a luxury we rarely see.

For a different perspective, here's what we've done in the last *few weeks*: After stopping an attack on Brindinford, we rescued the most powerful gold dragon from his captivity in the stronghold of the most powerful red dragon. Upon finishing that, we took on an ancient lich who had his hooks in things behind the scenes almost everywhere on the prime and beyond. After disposing of him, we returned to find our home plane under attack. We immediately countered one attack, launched an offensive strike the next day, then the following day destroyed the Githyanki Lich Queen. Of course all of the few scraps of information we have all point to something big going on in Rauxes and they just attacked and took the capital of the Great Kingdom, so we went out there to see what was going on after taking two days to relax.

Long range thinking? Erm.... yeah we'll get to that once our pants are no longer on fire.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*Bolo at the Queens party.*

The party was fantastic. Bolo watched as the elves cavorted and danced to rhythms he had never heard before. Maybe it was his Elven ears now able to pick up nuances in sound that his Halfling ears could not but he was delighted. Unfortunately Lone tooth was not so happy. The dire lion sat there while the revelers gave him a wide birth.
“What do you think of all of this my friend?” Bolo asked. 
“I could kill them all.” The human turned lion said. 
“Um… That’s not what I was asking.” Bolo said more than a bit disturbed. “Have you ever seen such beauty outside the forests?”  
Before the Lone Tooth could answer a figure in druids robes approached the Brandybuck and his guardian.
“Hello Brother!” said Bolo. He was happy to see another of the green having no real contact with another druids. “I’m Bolo Brandybuck. How are you?” 
“I am called Windfall.” he said as he removed his cowl showing his face. “I am here on official business. The remaining druids have been discussing you and whether you are worthy of being our new leader.”
“I didn’t know you had met. Why didn’t anyone alert me? I want to see everyone. If I’m to be the new leader I should at least meet the people I’m to lead.” Bolo said a bit irritated.
“You have the loyalty of many of the younger Brothers and Sisters but not all of us.” Windfall replied.
“So what do I need to do to prove myself? What more than saving the green and destroying the Githyanki lich queen?” Bolo asked.
“We have decided on a contest of combat. You and the others who are worthy will fight for your place as rightful leader of our people.” Said Windfall.
Bolo stood for a moment and then asked, “Who are the others?” 
“The Barrow King and Markus. Two worthy opponents” He replied.
“Will this be a fight to the death?” asked Lone Tooth.
“No. That would have no point.” Said Windfall.
“I guess I have no other choice but to fight. When is this to occur?” Bolo asked.
“One the evening of the Solstice. We will have the contest.”
“I have one last question. Do I have your support Windfall?” Bolo asked.
The druid thought for a moment and replied, “Yes. If you need to contact me you can do so through the First Ash. I must be going. There is much to plan.”
“Thank you my Brother.” Bolo said and hugged his new friend just before he left.
“Well. It seems that I have come to you just in time.” Lone Tooth said.
Bolo sipped his nectar and thought for a while until a handsome young elf wandered his way and invited him to a private party.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Bolo sat in trance communing with the world around him. The Lone tooth had been badly hurt his first adventure out of the grove and it weighed Heavily on Bolo's mind. He asked the world if there were any druids other then himself nearby. The world answered no. He asked if there were any powerful energy pools or gateways in the area. he suddenly felt himself pulled into a frightenly vast amount of water. Two huge funnels of water swirled into existance and turned thier eyes at him. Bolo realised they really were the creatures eyes. He had stumbled upon the Water Primal. it lived under the city the undead were trying to deluge. Bolo gasped taking in a double lung full of water and the trance broke. He wretched the water up out of his lungs and swayed to his feet. "It's Here." was all he could say.


----------



## Zad

*Undying - Chapter 2*

*Undying - Chapter 2*

*OOC Notes:*

Exp will come later

*This Week’s Adventure:*

We floated our misty forms over to the treeline a few hundred feet from the dam. We started returning to our solid forms and I looked again at the creatures on the dam. The two golems appeared to be twisted skeletons that were then covered with metal sheets and had cords wrapped around them as if to imitate muscle. In their chest cavities, a sickly green light pulsed and swirled and I could make out shades of an almost humanoid figure wracked in rictus of pain. Between them was the creature in charge. It stood almost totally still, barely moving except from the neck up. It wore tight fitting black leathers, showing skin only from the neck up – probably for use in the water. The green skull of Orcus was plain on its chest. 

Whatever this thing was, it had sharp eyes. As our group materialized, it was able to pick out some of our less stealthy from its post on the dam. So much for surprise. Dravot released a _Sunburst_ over the dam, and most of the undead in the area shattered once into pieces and then again into mere dust. However the golems were completely unaffected, and the leather-clad creature seemed unperturbed as well. For my part, I destroyed the two disembodied eyes that were watching the area – we wanted our enemies to have as little information as possible. 

The thing on the dam twitched suddenly and its head slid forward and withdrew inside its chest, covering it. Slots opened in the body, and it began floating up slowly from the top of the dam. Several spells must have been set to go off built into this armor for several mirror images sprang up as well as the creature becoming blurry. The golems then slowly turned and started hurling large rocks at us.

Rather than move over open ground, Dravot teleported to the bridge along with Bolo, Lonetooth, and the paladins. Bolo leapt off the far side of the dam and shimmered into the form of a kraken. I fired several arrows at the closer golem, and while they had some effect, it seemed insignificant to this beast. 

Then the leather suit arched back in the air, and the limbs began twisting in directions no limb should twist. What at first was an incantation rose to a loud buzzing or chittering sound and then a stream of ghostly insects suddenly burst out of the top of the body. They rose in an arc and then crashed down on to the dam and our people. The ghostly insects tore at their flesh, biting and stinging, and then washed away leaving everyone bloody and battered. One of the golems then pummeled Dravot and even he was having difficulty taking this much punishment.

Valanthe fired a volley of magic missiles to eliminate the leather-thing’s mirror images while I made another try at putting a dent in the golem. Again, I was able to hit him but he still seemed unimpressed. Dravot invoked a healing wave, and while there was an effect, many of the bites and welts had such a taint of corruption that they resisted normal healing efforts.  I think it was about then that we started becoming very worried.

Scorch sensibly shared Valanthe’s concerns about the armor suit and released a sonic detonation. Again, it was ignored by the golems, but the armor was beginning to show gaps and breaks. It floated up even higher and released another storm of insects but fortunately this one was not as intense as the last. But this thing needed some special attention before it could do much more damage. Valanthe removed the last of the mirror images and after a series of arrows and a fireball from Scorch, the armor finally shattered into a dozen pieces and fell back to the dam.

This only served to unveil a different problem – the head was still inside. Not just the head, but some of the spinal column and various bits of throat and other internals. A Penanggalan – a creature not seen for quite some time according to Dravot – was a bizarre type of vampire.

Vampires. I hate vampires. I hate anything that when you kill it, it just runs away and you have to kill it again. I tried hard to think of some other way to handle this thing, but didn’t have any good ideas, so I went through the motions. A volley of arrows was enough to destroy the thing, and sure enough it turned into a reddish mist and after a second, even the mist was gone; apparently it teleported away.

This left us with two angry golems, and they were certainly not to be taken lightly. We proceeded to pile on one of them, and the thing took more abuse than three full grown dragons could stand before it finally crashed to the water below. The second one was slightly better, not for being weaker but because we had some better ideas. Scorch made a few artful cuts in the stone with a spell and the creature went tumbling into the water. Once there the water was frozen solid around it. We could hear it battering at the ice, but it let us withdraw from the bridge area and prepare. Once it was out of the icy area, it began climing on to the dam again. It ignored every spell thrown at it, but after a long bombardment with ranged weapons, it finally came crashing down.

With the defenders gone, at least for the moment, we set about destroying their works. Between Bolo as a kraken and with help from elementals, the skeleton of the dam was reduced to rubble and floating wood within a few minutes. More spying eyes approached while the demolitions took place, but I made sure they didn’t see much before they were destroyed.

The whole situation was very disturbing. The troops were clearly working on a means of flooding Kalstrand. But why? Why even bother? If they wanted everyone dead, there were simpler ways to accomplish it. If they wanted to destroy the town, it would be easier to raze it than trying to flood it. Something just didn’t add up. And what about the construction crew? These were three extremely powerful creatures. Were they the elite of this attacking army? Were they the fierce leaders? Or were they just simple pawns sent to build a dam and there were far more powerful creatures in this army? This last thought was perhaps the most disturbing.

But while I pondered the apparent senselessness of it all, the undead were not idle. All the undead in the area were slowly forming a perimeter about a mile from us. At certain points, both Aethramyr and I could tell someone tried and failed to scry us. And Dravot noticed that the blasted skeletons in the area were slowly reassembling themselves bit by bit. Perhaps there was some kind of negative energy presence that was slowly regenerating them?

Once the dam was destroyed, we moved off. The undead, though still a mile away, were quick to back up. They did not seem intent on attacking us directly, at least not for the moment. Bolo asked that we stop so that he could commune with The Green and explore the area that way. He knelt and began to chant. But after a few minutes, he was scrambling backwards with a look of horror, and then suddenly began wretching. When he collected his wits, he told us what he saw.

“I was drowning. Drifting. Overwhelmed in water. Then I saw a vortex, swirling and spiraling. Then I could see two of them. Eyes. Vast eyes. Looking at me.” 

So now we knew why Orcus’ army was here: somewhere deep under Kalstrand, the water primal was trapped. And they meant to release it.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*A side note from off camera.*

For those readers who may have just tuned into this story line and thise who know the situation...

The water Elementals have stopped coming when Bolo calls them.
That's right. they are refusing to answer the (defacto) high druid's call. Bolo attempted to summon an Elder Water Elemental to aid in the destruction of the dam but it refused to obey. 

Now Bolo has a small problem that had become a much larger one then he knew about.

Bolo's history with Water Elementals is a bad one. He has summoned them only to have them...
1) Have orbs of super toxic acid thrown into them. (At the time I thought Water elementals were inpervious to all liquid attacks. <from another game I played it would seem>
2) He summoned one to fight a half fire elemental beholder. Now that in itself was not the issue. what was is the location. He was on the Fire elemental plane. (the poor elemental didn't last a half round. it just showed up and vaporized. <I was really tired and didn't think it through.>)

From that time He has heard rumors that he is considered the Boogie man to all the little Water Elementals. I just laughed it off as nonsense until last game. Now... what do you think will happen when the Water Primal shows up? I'm gonna get my delectible butt handed to me.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

When Oakenhart the Treant told Bolo that his Son was here at Ruun-Khazai Bolo and Windsaber, Bolo's bodyguard, immediately went looking for him. There in the meadow where only a few months ago Bolo had seeded Tickleberry bushes was a group of Halflings picking the ripe fruit. Bolo looked around from a distance until he saw the top of her head. “Still as golden as ever.” Bolo thinks. It must be the dye she uses. Bolo points the pair out to Windsaber and they approach.  He can see Geo now. Still not quite over a foot tall but strong for his age, he takes after his Grandpapa. The chestnut brown hair flowing like spider silk in the wind and the big brown eyes are all from his father. 
Bolo’s “ex-mate” is the first to see him. He looks into her face and sees the night of the ritual when he and Wilo Sunstrom were paired for a mating ceremony. It was a sacred honor to be chosen to mate and give your child up to the druidic council for upbringing. It’s an old custom but time honored and Wilo and Bolo were friends. They thought it wouldn’t change them. How wrong they were.

Smiling as he approached Bolo said hello just as his son Geo turned. Wilo was not terribly amused to see the Druid and certainly not a dire lion. “Well if it isn’t my ex-husband whom I destroyed for all females then turned Elven.” She said bitingly. 
“Hi Wilo. How are you? Hey Geo. Daddies home!” Bolo said trying not to seem as offended as he was. 
“DADDY!” cried the Halfling boy sheer joy on his face. “I’m a Half-Elf!” He said with pride in his young voice.
Bolo looked at his pure blood Hairfoot Halfling son and said, “You’re a Half-Elf? When did that happen?” 
Geo was all smiles as Bolo held his son for the first time in almost 10 months. “Well Daddy, if you’re an Elf now that makes me half Elven.” The boy laughed. 
“Tell me Wilo, how have you both been? How did you find Ruun-Khazai?” Bolo queried. “It’s not like we posted that we were here. I did send for you and Geo to come to the Grove in the Land of Black Ice. But not here.” 
Wilo sneered a bit and said, “We were lead here by a vision of the mother goddess of the Halflings. All of the Halflings that are here received the vision. No thanks to you.” 
Bolo thought for a moment and remembered that the Shadow taker claimed that HE had sent Bolo’s parents that vision. He will be re-evaluating that thought often in the passing of this day. 
“Well be that as it may I’m overjoyed to see you both alive and well. I’ll be back later to help with the harvest. Right now Geo and I have some flying to do. Would you like to go flying through the air with me Geo?” Bolo said as he turned into his air elemental form. Geo looked his father over and said, “Not like that Daddy!” 
“Well in what form. Your Daddy has learned all sorts of new bodies.”
“A Griffon! I want to fly a Griffon!” and with that said Bolo changed into his griffon form and with Geo climbing on to his back and holding tight to his fathers feathered head they rose up about 20 feet into the air and Bolo took his son for a ride around Ruun-Khazai.
“Wonderful.” Wilo gripped even with wonder evident in her eyes, “How am I supposed to compete with a man who can turn into a griffon and fly my son off any time he feels like it?”

On the ground Windsaber and Wilo just looked at each other and sighed. Bolo was not what they had expected for their lives, Nope, not at all.


----------



## Zad

*Undying - Chapter 3*

*Undying – Chapter 3*

*OOC Notes:*
1725 exp for Chapter 2
2000 for Chapter 3.

*This Week’s Adventure:*
Not a good day. Not even a little. 

But I’ve had a bath, and a nice glass of wine. (Several actually.) I still can’t decide if the entire situation is outrageous, ridiculous, or just insane, but I don’t really care as much now. Had I known what was waiting, I would have started drinking much earlier in the day. 

Not that it would have helped.

I also find myself becoming more troubled. Sometimes I think I could do more to undermine Fraz’s plans if I just stayed in the tub or napped under a tree. And wisdom seems in precious short supply.

But I’m starting to ramble; let me remember to write down the events before I try to understand them. In Kalstrand, the area was now teeming with undead. They were staying a good distance away, but they were out there. Since our presence was fully known, we concluded there was little more we could do here for now, and decided to withdraw. There was another matter that needed some attention, and this seemed like a good time to attend to it.

After all, we’d been told there was an eye of a dead god laying about our fortress. We probably should check on it or something. So we teleported to Ruun-Khazai. Except not quite the Ruun-Khazai that we had left. After much reflection, I’ve come to a single conclusion:

I liked it better when the githyanki controlled it. 

We appeared just outside the Sanctum Dome, but it took a moment to realize we had indeed landed in the right spot. The doors of the dome had been replaced, and there was now an awning that circled the entire dome. I had to bend and turn suddenly as a large wooden beam swung by, carried by an ogre coming through the new doors.

An ogre. I had wondered if we might return some time and find the place had been in habited by monsters of some kind, particularly with the giants run out of Geoff. Was this it? I held an arrow in place with a finger on my bow hand while questions were asked. I would have just killed the thing, but I didn’t see it as much of a threat and was still shocked and confused. The ogre didn’t speak any language we knew, which of course made things more chaotic, but it didn’t seem threatened. Scorch finally cast a _Tongues_ and started relaying what the ogre was rambling on about “… yeah told him to be careful but he not listen. But newcomers never careful. Almost hit them with beam. Nobody ever listen to Goon....”

A figure in jet black robes came out from around a corner, apparently having heard the commotion and began saying “Yes, I’ve told him to be careful…” Then she stopped. Then she got a good look at us. Then she promptly ran off screaming towards a cluster of new buildings.

New buildings?

As her screaming faded as she ran (it certainly didn’t drop in intensity) I couldn’t help but stare at the new buildings. The architecture was hard to place, but they were definitely newly erected. I stopped for a moment – we had only been gone perhaps two months in Prime days. Where did all this come from?

To say I was becoming agitated would be putting it rather mildly. “Livid” is a good start though.

Despite questions, the ogre was providing no usable answers. He continuted to babble on about what he was told and peer at us through a curious lens. Then the frog came.

Now mind you I live a strange life these days. But this was getting odd even for me.

The ogre stopped and looked up the hill and was pointing at a frog. A large frog. Large enough to be carrying an ogre mage as a rider. And that’s a pretty big frog. And he was hopping our way, the rider wearing armor and carrying a formidable lance. I debated firing at him, and it certainly would have relieved some of the stress, but two things held me back. (If you don’t count the screaming of the rest of the group to calm down.) First, his lance was not leveled at us in a hostile way, and second, Aethramyr said he was a paladin.

An ogre mage paladin. Riding a giant frog. In the middle of our fortress. But wait, it gets better.

He approached us and reigned in his frog. (I can’t believe I’m even writing those words.) He greeted us, and said that he was Haggarak. He introduced his frog, the noble Croak. (I can’t believe I _heard_ that, let alone wrote it down.) He also seemed to have some idea of who we were, but I wasn’t sure what to make of that.

Haggarak had the virtue of at least speaking Common. Presented with that, I immediately demanded to know what he was doing here, what these ogres were doing here, what all this construction was, and generally what the hell was going on here. My companions were a bit more sedate about the whole affair. Ok perhaps that’s an understatement. But by now I had gone past “livid” and was rapidly heading for “kill them all and let Corellian sort them out” and I wanted some answers about what was going on in our fortress, and the fact that this ogre appeared to be a paladin wasn’t really carrying much weight with me right about then.

Haggarak was disturbed by my questions and my manner. Which was fine with me; at least I had his attention. He said “I am sure the Chief can answer your questions. It is not my place.”

I had enough. “I’ll tell you what – either you can tell us what’s going on here in the next thirty seconds, or I can just assume it’s an invasion and start killing everyone I see. You decide.”

Haggarak looked genuinely shocked by this threat. He paused a moment, trying to understand what was happening here. He said, almost sadly “I have been told that you are basically a good person.”

I stared back with ice in my voice. “You were misinformed. And when I return to a fortress and find it teeming with all manner of creatures that were not here when I left, I become rather hostile. Now do you wish to explain or shall I simply start shooting?”

This isn’t to imply nobody else had anything to say – indeed quite a lot of things were being shouted. Mostly at me, and mostly along the lines of “calm down.” I didn’t care. We’d returned to what was a secret fortress that we had left with all of two creatures in it, and found that it was now swarming with all manner of monsters. I wanted them gone, and if I wasn’t going to do that I was damn well going to have some answers.

It occurs to me now that I wish I’d had the good sense _not_ to want the answers. Ignorance is bliss. I must remember that more often.

Haggarak looked… disappointed. He may have decided it would be a poor idea to aggravate me further. Or he may have decided that it was wiser to avoid a conflict in which innocents would be hurt. Or he may have just given up in disgust. In any case, he answered, quickly and concisely. He said that a crack had opened in to the Underdark, and refugees had escaped. The Kobold Chief told them they could take refuge here. Soon other refugees arrived. Then mages arrived, having heard that Scorch was rebuilding the guild. And then there were halflings, dwarves, humans and others. Soon ambassadors arrived from Bissel and other places, and the Chief could not turn them away, so he received them. Things have developed from there.

When Haggarak said “the Kobold Chief”, the collective groan that erupted from our entire group was unlike anything I had ever heard.

*****

Valanthe had disappeared during the conversation. She knew where the root of the matter was and she was going to find him. She slipped unseen through the Sanctum Dome, through the secret doors, and into the underground passages that lead to the Heart of the fortress.

Soon, she came to a decorated door that wasn’t looking like that last time she saw it. Inside, she heard two voices. Two _kobold_ voices.

She slipped inside with practiced ease and had to make a conscious effort to make herself noticed standing in the doorway. Before here were two kobolds, rolling around on a decadent pile of furs and blankets. 

“Ahem.”

Meepo froze. Then slowly – very slowly – he turned around and looked at the door, and saw Valanthe.

Meepo swallowed hard. “Uh oh.”

*****

It was time to go have a little chat with the Kobold Chief. Haggarak “led” us to his chambers. _“Because obviously we need to be led around our own fortress to find that little worm of a kobold”_ I thought to myself. I think Haggarak was probably more worried I’d kill him when I found him. He might have been right too.

When we got there, Valanthe was already there and Meepo was hastily dressing himself. Meepo was a lot of things, and while “idiot” was one of them, “complete idiot” was not. He didn’t even have to see the look on my face to know he better start talking and fast. (Come to think of it, I don’t think he actually looked directly at me the whole time.)

Meepo related the same basic scenario that Haggarak had but with an added twist. A crack had opened to the Underdark. When we did not return for a while, Meepo, with his keen analytic mind, concluded that we must be in the Underdark, so he set out to rescue us. There he had any number of adventures, even talked his way past two mind flayers and freed many slaves. Of course he had to take them in. And then the refugees started showing up and  he told them to do good and they could stay. I’m still not entirely clear what war was happening in the Underdark – the drow are apparently at war with everyone but it sounded fairly normal. I wondered if Chavram had something to do with it but he wasn’t mentioned. And then there were a couple mind flayers that came out and caused havoc until they were captured. Actually one was captured, the other was killed. 


The next thing Meepo knew, there were ambassadors showing up from Bissel. We had determined some time ago that Ruun-Khazai had landed on the edge of Bissel but were not about to discuss it with the government. But they came, and so Meepo had to meet with them and make a treaty with them.

I groaned.

Then there were the wizards that said they came at Scorch’s invitation. Some of them were in various houses nearby, while others were in a tower on the hill. The ones in the tower arrived with masks on and wearing robes, making us immediately wonder if it wasn’t some refugee from the Horned Society massacre. They all said they were here at Scorch’s invitation however. Some of them were even already studying the eye of the dead god.

Then Meepo said “Oh, and nice druid’s son and “mate” are here too.”

This of course was enough to completely blind Bolo to everything else and make him ecstatic, when it should have made him even more worried.

I asked “And who are the people in the black robes that ran away screaming?”

Meepo cowered. “Um, they drow.”

It was at this moment that I decided that killing was too good for Meepo. I’m amazed I could think at all what with all the people yelling to calm down. It’s not as if I had killed or even hurt a single creature… yet. That’s not saying I didn’t desperately want to however.

I was ready to scream, but managed to say "When word gets out that there are nasty ogres and drow and kobolds living in a fortress in the hills, adventuring groups are going to start coming to destroy them. What are you going to do when the first group of adventurers shows up? Huh?"



Meepo sheepishly pointed to one of the new buildings "They're over there working on the awnings."



****


First things first: if the mages in the tower were from the Horned Society, they would have to go. The entire group went en masse to the tower on the hill. Two large crystals slowly circled the tower at the top, and the entrance was just a brick wall that looked somewhat out of place. Before we got to the top, I suddenly realized that most of these creatures had been here when the githyanki invasion had begun. The githyanki were looking for the eye – they would have destroyed everything here to find it. 

“Meepo,” I asked “what would have happened if the githyanki found you here and attacked?”

“Oh that not happen. Beggar said so,” he replied, as if he were saying the sky is blue.

I fought a quick but desperate battle with myself to resist the urge to throttle him just a little. “What beggar?”

“The beggar at the inn,” Meepo answered, as if overwhelmingly proud that the area was large enough to support an inn *and* an actual beggar.

Why did I even try?

We reached the tower and saw the brick wall. Before we could do much more, the wall disappeared, and a woman in robes welcomed us and invited us in.

The truth is that I missed much of the discussion. I was being overwhelmed by the pounding headache the whole thing had given me. I was just starting to grasp the depth of what was going on at Ruun-khazai, and it was making me ill. Not only was our safe haven gone – in some ways that was the least of the implications – but there was now a whole new sphere of problems to consider. But I remember there was the woman – Jara Solaren – and her husband. They were Skullfire mages which was apparently a lot of Grey Guild rejects. I caught the fact that they were most definitely not Horned Society. I heard that they had come at Scorch’s invitation as relayed by our old friend The Burning Skin. And there was something about her husband being undead. And that last part didn’t please Dravot at all. So they decided to tell her and her husband to leave or they would be forcibly removed. The woman decided that leaving was fine and they’d be gone the next day.

So apparently ogres and hundreds of drow are ok, but one zombie is not. I didn’t even bother asking for someone to explain that one.

With that handled, we split up. Scorch went off to meet with the mages who were studying the eye, Bolo went to find his son, and Dravot, Aethramyr and I went to talk to the ambassador from Bissel. I wasn’t sure what Bissel expected but I wasn’t going to have them dictating terms to us. Mostly I think I was hoping he would want something unreasonable so I could yell.

Scorch later reported that not only was the library of the guild safely stored in a demi-plane, but it was now accessible to him and that time moved much faster there. This could facilitate a number of projects for us. Of course no good news comes without twice the measure of bad – Venn had been here. He borrowed some books on neutrality and the potential existence of a neutral plane.

The ambassador was staying at the inn. (When did they have time to build an inn?) The inn was on the Great Goblin Road. For a moment, I beamed brightly at having found some good in all this until I was told that it didn’t mean what I probably thought it meant, and all my visions of a road lined with goblin skulls vanished in a depressing puff of smoke. 

We entered the inn and soon the ambassador came down. He was a dwarf named Forbin, and it seemed that he’d gotten the job by not quite being quick enough at saying “No!” This particular ambassador was from the government – there were others from trade and merchant guilds. (It seemed the refugees from the underdark brought their wool along with them so substantial trade was going on.) The Bissel government wanted to pursue a non-aggression treaty, and was prepared to name Kobold Country (groan) as a fully autonomous principality. Dravot and Forbin continued the discussion for some time, but as soon as I heard that they were being reasonable, I lost all interest and had a few glasses of wine.

Somewhere in the discussion the beggar came up again. Any beggar that knew the plans of the githyanki certainly raised some curiousity, so when Forbin and Dravot were done, we went outside to talk to him.

Half asleep, propped up against a tree was a scruffy human in dirty clothes. As we approached, he held out a cup and said “Spare a copper, bla bla bla.” Kobold Country may have attracted a beggar, but he didn’t seem like he’d be a successful one. I threw a copper in his cup, and he looked up at me under bushy eyebrows. Our eyes locked, and the truth became clear.

Olidamarra.

I’d come to enjoy our little encounters more and more of late, but even he wasn’t going to lift my mood this time. The whole situation stank like week-dead orc, and in the space of two hours I had gone from being under attack to mad to incensed to livid to outraged to frustrated and was winding my way to hopelessness. I didn’t even feel up to the usual veiled hints this time and didn’t do much more than sip my wine.

Dravot asked Olidamarra about what Orcus would want with the water primal. Olidamarra insisted on a copper before he would answer anything. Then he thought better of it and wanted a copper and an ale. Once satisfied, he said “I might have one person build me an inn. And then have another person build me the furniture. But I wouldn’t tell either one what I was doing. Because if I were building an inn, because that’s where souls go to rest, I wouldn’t want either of them to know what I was up to.”

“Oh and um… If I were you I wouldn’t go about a mile-and-a-half south right now. Nope. Wouldn’t do it.” And then he took a long pull from his ale.

Dravot asked “Were we intended by someone to kill the lich queen?”

The beggar drank again and said “The real problem when you build a house – if you teach a fellow to build a house, he might go build one for himself. So if you want to be the only house in town, you don’t teach him how to build a house.”

Then he fell asleep after drinking the last of the ale. And in thinking about his responses through my headache, I think this was the first time Olidamarra didn’t tell us anything that we didn’t already know. He didn’t even really tell us much at all. Normally I could fathom his meaning but this time he was making no sense. It’s probably the headache.

By now Bolo had rejoined us after he’d found his son and spent some time with him. He had gone flying and spotted a large structure to the south – probably where Olidamarra said not to go. It was some bizarre cross between a paperwasp hive and a spider’s cacoon. When asked, Meepo said it was the drow enclave. I assume Olidimarra was saying not to go there so that I wouldn’t get even further incensed.

And then when Scorch and Valanthe both found us, the “discussions” started. I was still outraged at the developments here, while the reactions of the others ranged from indifferent to pleased. And of course there was no changing it. Even if the near 500 residents (many of whom were not evil) were run off or even killed, the location was known to far too many people. Ruun-Khazai had only a few endearing qualities, but one of them was it was a secret. That quality was now shattered, and our safe haven with it.

Bolo, blinded by his delight at his son’s presence, couldn’t see anything beyond the end of his nose. And he could not grasp how any of this could be a bad thing.

“Why are you such a total bitch?!?!” he yelled at me.

And I just stared back at him. And stared some more. And finally it hit me – he just can’t help it that he’s an idiot. And there was no point in trying to explain it to an idiot – he just couldn’t grasp it. I felt pity for him, and a little jealousy at the same time. 

Forget that our one place of privacy was gone. Forget that evil creatures and racial enemies were now roaming around what used to be our private sanctum. Forget the fact that a hundred drow are ok but a single undead husband isn’t. 

What about all the “invitations” that were supposedly sent in our names? What about the visions the halflings received supposedly from their god to come here, when we know full well the divinity won’t give anyone the time of day right now? What about all the armies roaming the Flaness right now? What happens when this place is attacked? When Bolo’s son is slaughtered or worse? What happens when our enemies come here and destroy, either to get back at us, or to draw us out? We can’t be everywhere at once, and we have a hard enough time defending that which is dear to us already. Now in addition to everything else, we should watch over this place too?

And that’s just the start of what this means. But he just couldn’t see it. None of it.

I’d had enough. I never had any great love of Ruun-Khazai, but I did at least feel a little safe here. Now that was gone, and this place held nothing but problems. And since there was no further reason for me to be here, and I was quite tired of being shouted at, I teleported to Celene and someplace I could call home and feel safe in.

So I sit in the bath, with too many questions and no place to find the answers. The assembled divinity seems to have turned its collective back on the world and is letting the undead armies of Orcus roam free. Stopping the githyanki was one thing, but those armies look too massive for even us to turn back. And then there’s the water primal and whatever plan Orcus has for it. And whatever it is, surely the idea came first from Fraz.

Fraz was the key to it all, but the most inscrutable of the lot. I never had any doubt that he allied with the githyanki to create a diversion and draw the attention of powerful forces away from what was happening in Rauxes. And I’m just as sure he intended us, or someone like us, to destroy the lich queen, and likely the ShadowTaker too. It was all part of his plans. And I find I’m quite tired of being used as a pawn in his plans. 

Perhaps tomorrow I’ll speak with the Queen and see what the divination binder can see. Since the divnity choses not to answer, perhaps arcane divinations can shed some light on these machinations. I should also visit the Celenian. He may wish to know of the fates of the elven souls taken by the gith.

But for now, I think another glass of winter wine will do.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Greybar said:
			
		

> Go Meepo!
> 
> Ah, the weight of the world upon the shoulders of heroes.  It's easier when it's just "smash this and kill that", isn't it.
> 
> Good stuff, all.  I particularly like that it sounds like people were wonderfully in character for a very RP episode.  Not that this SH doesn't seem to have a lot of good in-character stuff, but it's still great to see.
> 
> john



Zad and I sit next to one another and while Kayleigh was on one of her rants I almost kicked "her" under the table. Bolo and She are so opposite in thought about other races. She's practicly xenophobic and Bolo's a Xenophile. He just loves everyone as long as thier good beings (even the Undead like Val's Shadows.)


----------



## Zad

I should have included that.

Kayleigh says to Meepo "When word gets out that there are nasty ogres and drow and kobolds living in a fortress in the hills, adventuring groups are going to start coming to destroy them. What are you going to do when the first group of adventurers shows up? Huh?"

Meepo sheepishly points "They're over there working on the awnings."


----------



## Zad

*Note for the Readers:*

I'm afraid we have finally had to bow to the forces of board mechanics. The thread was getting pretty big, what with having run so long. I finally broke down and pruned the thread, removing almost all the posts that were not directly part of the story.

It's not that I don't appreciate the feedback from all the readers; I truly do. A single hello or "Love the story" post is enough to make my whole day and I cherish each one. But there are limits to technology, and in order to make things easier on the boards and our hosts, as well as new readers, I've had to remove the posts up  until the most recent ones. Please don't take this as an insult, and let me offer my thanks again for reading.


----------



## wolff96

Ah, pruning is a fact of life around here. Don't worry about it.

I have to say, Kayleigh may be annoyed, but I pretty much laughed my butt off throughout the latest update. 

Love what you've done with Meepo, Wiz... not to mention how much I enjoyed the raw annoyance Kay felt as I was reading through the update -- great writing, Zad.

By the way, how *did* Kobold Country stop the adventurers, anyway?  Or are the new forces in this city so powerful even adventurers decided not to chance it?


----------



## WizarDru

Elder-Basilisk said:
			
		

> Hmmm. An ogre mage paladin named Haggarak? It appears that Blackdirge has been contributing more than just foes to this campaign. (Even if the spelling has changed slightly...)



Shhh! Quiet...they'll hear you! 


The disadvantage of this update being written from Kayleigh's perspective was that a few things were lost because she wasn't there. Which is by design, generally, but should be mentioned.

One: no mention was made of Lecter, the sole prisoner of Kobold Country's jail.

Two: Though hinted at briefly, Scorch actually spent a good amount of time with Morris Denby and his wife, the librarian from the Grey Guild. Any resemblence between James Mason and Dame Judi Dench are...well, they just are, is all. Scorch also dropped major coin on the Emerald Covenant, a group of Grey Guild ex-patriates located north of Ruun-Khazai proper, who Scorch has recruited as part of his growing power base.

Three: Only Valanthe bore witness to the Skullfire mages domestic life, and only she knew that Val was single-handedly responsible for the mage's psychosis...that our Sleepless one had already stolen her spellbook once before, on a secret mission for the Hammer. Pity her familiar...or laugh at him, which is what Scorch did. Of course, the fact that she got attacked by a rug on that mission came out, as well.

Four: Kayleigh pretty much thinks that Meepo is a total liar, but events pretty much bear out what he says. Namely that after the crack opened up and the Meepites went missing, he went into the underdark, hoping to find and even possibly rescue them. Instead, he had quite a few adventures, outwitting ogres and even two Illithids, and freeing more than a few slaves. Of course, when the refugees started coming, he took them in. Half the party was proud of this and the other half dubious. 

Five: Aethramyr showed his true paladin nature again, making peace more than once. When the group first arrived, Kayleigh was walking around with a nocked arrow, and when she threatened to go on a killing spree, said ogre mage paladin was not about to allow that. As far as he knew, Kayleigh was in deadly earnest. 

Six: Did we mention the puppies? Meepo's not the only one who's been busy while the group was away. Ahem.

Seven: That wasn't a female drow running away at the beginning. A very effeminate male, yes. The women would have drawn down on Kayleigh, given half a chance. Did I mention they work in the town Bakery? You know, the one that Bolo's...whatever she is, owns.

I'm sure there were other things, but I can't recall which. The details of the Great Goblin Road, for example. The amusement of Dravot when Forbin gave them the 'please don't smite us' treaty was pretty amusing. 

It was a bit madcap, this session.


----------



## dravot

Journal - Returning to Ruune Khazaai

Tired and hungry after our trip to Kalstrand, our arrival at Ruune Khazaai wound up being quite the surprise, both for us and for our new tenants. I nearly had my head taken off by an ogre who was moving a large oak beam into place for some construction project. When we recovered from our surprise, and the new occupants recovered from theirs, I left the group to find out what was going on, and went to check on our quarters. I gave Aethramyr a look and knew that he'd keep Kayleigh in line while I was gone.

Much to my relief, our quarters were untouched in our absence. In fact, someone had been in recently and dusted our rooms. At least the new-comers had brought some civilization with them, I thought as I scanned the area. As this was happening, I heard over the scales that Kayleigh was on her way to confront Meepo, and I hastened to make my way to where he was, in case there was any bloodshed.

The more we learned about what had been going on, the more bizarre things became. Drow, goblins, an entrance to the Underdark, mind-flayer prisoners…it just kept going on and on. Given information from Meepo, we split up and tried to find more information about the situation.

I tried to find out where the temple to Pelor was, and was given a bit of a shrug and a nod toward the ash trees over the hill. Zira, Thorkeld and I headed there and found a makeshift temple to St. Cuthbert. I asked the first person I found about a temple to Pelor, and the boy, probably a novitiate, fainted dead on the spot. Zira looked after him while I found someone with a hardier constitution and asked her.

Apparently, there was no temple to Pelor yet, but she wasn't certain why. I resolved to rectify this soon, but first I needed to move on and talk to the ambassador from Bissel, who was staying at the Inn.

The dour, but polite priestess of Cuthbert offered to escort us to the inn, which we gladly accepted. On the way, we came across some followers of Pelor. When we stopped to talk to them, they all dropped prostrate before my feet. Normally, I don't mind such behavior, but when one is trying to get answers, it can be highly annoying. I managed to get one of them, a Halfling to stand up and speak with me.

"Pray tell, my good sir, can you tell me why there is no temple to our Lord Pelor? Certainly there are more than a few of his followers here by now."

The Halfling kind of shuffled his feet, and looked down at the dirt. "Um…we were waiting for you to do it when you returned. Sir." I couldn't get him to look me in the eye.

I must admit, in my current state of agitation, somewhat influenced by Kayleigh, I lost it. "Must I do everything? Are you incapable of doing anything for yourselves? What if I hadn't returned for a year? What then?"

The Halfling began to cry. I just hoped that Bolo wouldn't hear about this as I tried to redirect my anger. "How about you start working on a temple right now? I'm sure that you can do it. Thorkeld and Zira here will be glad to advise you." I gave them each a look to make sure that they would only advise and not take over construction of the temple. The group assented readily and headed off to make plans and we continued on our way to the Inn, and met up with Kayleigh and Aethramyr on the way.

The inn was small but functional, and obviously of hastily built construction. I asked for the ambassador, and someone went to fetch him. Shortly thereafter, a dwarf came down the stairs, nervous and fidgety. He kept tugging at his shirtcuffs as he made his way over to us. I put on my best diplomatic smile and invited him to sit with us. He reeked of fear, but I tried not to let that show and tried to put him at ease, by ordering him a drink.

Forbin, that is to say, the ambassador meekly introduced himself to us. Clearly he wasn't really selected for this position based on any personal merits, but rather because he didn't say "No" quickly enough. It took me 10 minutes to convince Forbin that we weren't going to kill him outright, nor were we going to conquer Bissel.

Drink after drink, and eventually some lamb and potatoes managed to calm down Forbin and we were able to get some details out of him. It turned out that Meepo had signed a non-aggression pact with Bissel in our absence, as well as some trade agreements and managed to turn "Kobold Country", that is to say, our lands, into some form of semi-autonomous principality of Bissel. I called for the documents describing these transactions, and began to pour over them carefully, asking questions from time to time. I must say that I was quite impressed with the job that Meepo had done, but I wonder how much of it was Meepo's negotiations, and how much of it was outright capitulation on the part of Bissel.

Regardless, I amended the documents in several small places, all of which added up to no real changes whatsoever to the agreements in principle. As a test of Bissel's resolve, this ploy worked perfectly, and just served to reinforce the notion that we wanted to be left alone. 

It was after that that we met with the beggar who was Olidamarra. I'm not sure what he's up to, but I'm glad that he's on our side, even if he doesn't want to admit it. I won't say anything aloud about it, for fear of jinxing it, but I'm glad nonetheless. I just wish that he weren't so obscure in what he says. Par for the course with him, though, I suppose.

After that, we evicted the mage and zombie who were squatting on the lands. As much as I wanted to obliterate the zombie, I was convinced that they were misled into coming here, and the less trouble the better for the time being. I told Scorch that one way or the other, the zombie was leaving these lands, and the zombie got to choose which way he wanted.

Thanks to the library demi-plane that Scorch found, I am now working on my newest magic item. The difference in the time streams takes a bit of getting used to, but I project that I'll be done with it within a few days on the prime.


----------



## Zad

*A small teaser...*



After a night’s rest, I was no closer to a good idea of how to proceed, but at least I felt much better. Of course, being nowhere near Ruun-Khazai might have something to do with that.

I decided that it was time to seek wisdom from those would be better at thinking on the large scale. My first stop was the palace to see the Queen. I hoped that she could trigger new insights, as I sorely needed some.

The Queen received me, this time in the presence of a strange being, more artifice than alive. It appeared to be a metal ball with strange metal feet, and a single eye where a face might be. On it's back, two delicately crafted armatures looked like mechanical wings. Though it had no mouth, I heard a strange, lilitng voice emit from it, though in what language, I could not say. It's speech was set to a strange set of music that only played when it talked. The Queen gestured for me to wait, while she sang a conversation in the same tongue. After a moment they stopped, apparently reaching an accord.

The curious creature's wings began to move, fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird or perhaps a dragonfly. It lifted into the air, and then with a flash, disappeared.

Only then did the Queen motion me forward. "Yes, child?"

"Your Majesty, I find myself disturbed by any number of things and I was hoping to seek your council. I am in dire need of wisdom right now. First, are you aware of creatures called Primals, and do you know of any imprisoned in Celene?"

She had to search her memory a bit before responding. "The ancient tomes speak of beings by this name, but I know little else on the matter. Onselven would know more, as this is scholarly pursuit of his, I believe. I do know that if one were imprisoned here, I WOULD be aware of it. I am told that the locations of the binders have something to do with the locations of the primals...but I do not pretend to recall the details. Onselven is a fine teacher, but in my younger days I was a poor student."

A shuffling gait and the echo of staff to stone heralded the timely arrival of the Queen's counselor. Onselven looked desperately tired, as if he had been at a great task for some time. He leaned more heavily on his staff than I was used to and the staff was a simple wooden one rather than something more elaborate. But for all it's simplicity, it projected a greater presence than the ones he normally bears, though I could not discern exactly why it seemed so.

"Woe for the kingdom had you been remained so, Majesty," he said in a tired voice.

The Queen questioned him but was not reproachful. "Master Onselven, We have been waiting on you. I had expected your aid in negotiations."

"My apologies, mistress. Reinforcing the palace defenses is a more time consuming task than we first thought."

I repeated the question to Onselven, who looked at me as though he was noticing me for the first time.

"The Primals? Yes, I know of them, Lady Kayleigh. They came before the Elves, before the Dragons...before all the others. They are for whom this plane of being is so named. They came from elsewhere, and met here, in this place that we now call home. Where they came from, and why, I do not know. It is a great mystery. All that I know is that the Leshay and Dragons joined together and made war upon them, and found a way to inter them that is lost to us. Where they did place them I do not know."

I nodded. “I see. Well, perhaps it would do well for me to combine my knowledge with yours in case it proves useful in the future. I know the Primal of Disease is imprisoned below Brindinford, and I believe the Primal of Water is contained below Kalstrand. Orcus’ undead forces have recently taken Kalstrand, and we found them taking steps to flood the city. We believe this is related to the water Primal, but cannot fathom why Orcus would want to release it or how he could harness it. We stalled their designs but it is only a temporary step.”

Onselven took all this in and added “I shall refresh my mind on the Primals at my first opportunity.”

I turned back to the Queen, ready to go on to other things. "Of late, it seems the assorted gods of good have distanced themselves from the Prime. Their agents have withdrawn from many off-world places such as Sigil, and they are not taking a hand in the radical events happening in our world. I went to Arboria in an effort to redeem the captured souls of our bretheren, but the host would not even speak to me, and Dravot was also told that there would be difficulties in contacting his god. I am at a loss to understand this. One being told me that they were staying their hand, lest the Prime be crushed in a war of titans, but it seems the alternative is to consign us all to Orcus and Fraz's plans. Is it possible that the divination binder could shed some light on this whole situation since the divinity will not?" 

The Queen talked as if this were a simple matter, but I could see it troubled her. "It is not just the good gods who have removed their divine agents. All deities not native to this world are gone. I have faith that Corellon will protect us in our hour of need. Perhaps the divination binder can help, but what would you have me ask of it? I trust little that I have learned of the Demon Prince of Deception through the binder. Powerful as it is, it is not immune to deception by one such as Fraz, who was tricking mortals before it was conceived. I would aid you, but I need to know what it is you would know, or try to know."

This was the answer that I had expected. I could not help but express my heart's fears where the gods were concerned. “As for Corellon, my heart tells me that he will protect us. But my fear tell sme that he has turned his back on us. I pray my heart is right.”

“As for the other, I confess I do not even know what to ask. Indeed we are always constrained in that we do not know what questions need answering, and hence cannot seek information. This is by Fraz’s design I’m sure. We cannot even begin to comprehend his plans. Yet I am left with the undeniable feeling that with each step we take to stop our enemies, we take a step to further his designs. I am sure, though I cannot say why, that the attack of the githyanki was nothing more than a diverstion - a distraction orchestrated by Fraz to draw attention. At each turn he guides my path - how can we hope to thwart him if we constantly take the bait he has provided? There are times I feel as if I'm advancing his plans just by getting out of bed. But there has to be something better than complete inaction."

The Queen of Celene thought about this for some time before answering me. "If what you say is true, then you need to do something completely unexpected. A being such as Fraz lays plans within plans, but even he has limits. It may be that you have already confounded some of his schemes, though he has prevented you from being aware of it. He is the rarest of creatures...a patient demon. You need to find a way to strike at HIM, and not his distractions. If the Githyanki were a distraction...." She shuddered at the thought. "There must be a way to change the rules of his game. I will meditate on this."

The Queen had echoed my own thought and I had to say it out loud. “Aye, we need to change the rules of this game.”

There was one other small matter I had to mention but it would require some explaining. I quickly sketched out the release of Ralishaz and the appearance of Ruun-Khazai on the Prime and then went on to the troubling bit. 

“Due to the actions of a certain kobold, which were I to tell you them you would call me a liar, there is now a very active community there. It includes many freed slaves and many refugees from a war in the underdark. Among them are well over a hundred dark elves. Whether they are truly "redeemed" I cannot say, but they are there."

The Queen went from pensive to serious. "I can have a hundred bows and three mages at your side within the hour. If they are not seriously entrenched, culling them should be a simple enough process. We shall not suffer..." 

"My Lady", Onselven intterupted her. "The Suel God Ralishaz is a matter for concern. He is a master of chaos and strange chances. This matter changes everything. Do I understand you to say that you have been living in a fortress that has been in contact with the Suel's lord of fortunes for over a century?"

I had been trying, unsuccessfully I’m sure, to suppress my smile at the thought of eliminating the drow enclave as a threat. But Onselven’s question made the smile fade fast enough. “I do not care for them either My Queen. I believe Aethramyr has extracted an oath of some form from them, but I know not its nature, and I fear he does not realize how little such things mean to the dark ones. If it is your will, I will destroy them."

"But as to your question Onselven – yes, that is the essence of it."

The Queen was puzzled. "Meaning what, Master Onselven?"

"Meaning, my Lady, that we should take care for any rash actions. I appreciate your...zeal...where the Storm Lord's children are concerned. But there are weighty matters to be considered. I must consult my charts to see what kind of significance this holds for us all." 

The Queen was not completely convinced but she was cautious. "Very well, we shall wait on your words, Onselven. If I mislike them, then Kayleigh is to kill every one of these abmoinations."

I shared the Queen’s mind on this. “Onselven is quite correct about Ralishaz – he governs unusual happenings, and often for the better. But know that if it is Your will, then I shall see to it they are destroyed.”

With that, I thanked the Queen and cursied and withdrew. She had given me much to think on, and triggered the start of an idea. While I considered it, I went to seek more council. This time I went to the quiet glade where the Celenian told me I could speak with him if I had need.

I found him where he promised to be, where I left him just days ago. He sat, motionless, covered in snow as if he had not moved for days. He remained in silent meditation as I approached, until he suddenly opened his eyes. They betrayed no emotion, save a sense of calm. Then while I watched, the snow crawled away from him as if it were a carpet someone were rolling up. 

"Hail, Daughter of the Forest. What words do you seek from me?"

I spent some time relating the tale of our attack on the githyanki in Celene and then our assault on the Lich Queen. He seemed disturbed by the fate of the lost elven souls but said nothing. After I had finished, I went on to my questions.

"You spoke of the primals. How many do you know the prisons of? Are there any in Celene?"

"Once there were nine Primals and nine Prisons. Three gods of light came and sealed the prisons, to ensure that they could not escape. Only the divinities knew the location of all the prisons, and I only know the location of one. It is the prison of Earth, and it is located at the bottom of the Wislanna Dallisa...what is now called the Nyr Dyv. Each being was placed in a prison built in an element that was foreign to them. They are rendered weaker when they are out of their own element. Each prison was unique, but protected by powerful wards and forged, at least in part, of Isometril, an ancient ore fashioned by my people."

Now I knew at least one more than I used to. I then asked about Fraz, hoping that his longevity would give him an insight into the larger picture.

"I know little of this being you speak of. Demons came after us, I think, or perhaps came before but did not reveal themselves. For whatever reason, they never chose to trouble my kind. They commerce in souls, and we are of little use to them in that respect, for our souls are sealed and wholly ours. They cannot be sold or bartered. Such being are only concerned with two things, possessing power and obtaining power. Seek to what power this demon seeks, and how he hopes to obtain it, and you will understand his designs."

I thought a moment, the idea begun with the Queen forming further here. “Demons seek souls. Perhaps I have worried too much about the _why_. Perhaps there is something that can be done after all.”

“I thank you, elder. The Queen’s words sparked an idea, and you have given strength to that spark. Perhaps I can cause that flame to catch.”

I left him to his meditation and went to do some of my own. Perhaps the secrecy is the thing…

This just might work.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Bolo awoke from a nightmare in the dead of the night. Windsaber, awake and standing next to the would-be grand druid says, “You smell of fear.” 
“It just occurred to me what a perfect place the Underdark would be for the Shadow King to use. It’s a natural weak point in the world’s defenses against the Shadow realm and with all the infighting there is a very good chance that they would not even notice a new player on the field if they kept to themselves. Now I’m actually worried about Geo and Wilo’s safety. Maybe I should whisk them away to the grove.” Bolo said. “And please eat some of the mint leaves I gave you. The smell of raw meat on your breath is a more than a bit disturbing.”

The dire Lion simply harrumphed and lay back down at the side of Bolo’s hammock in the gardens of the ruined Pyramid at Ruun-Khazai. Bolo did not sleep again that night.


----------



## Zad

*Undying - Chapter 4*

*Undying – Chapter 4*

*OOC Notes:*
Experience: 21st = 3675, 22nd = 2900, 23rd = 2000.

Reader’s note: Yes I know you don’t care about exp but this is also our historical record of the game. Also we had a lot of different activities going on this week, so don’t be surprised if you hear from other characters.

*Loot:*
Ring of disintegration
Wand of Raise Dead, 1 charge

*This Week’s Adventure:*
I now had a fairly good idea of what I wanted to do. What I didn’t know was how to go and do it. It would take some research and digging on Scorch’s part to find out what we needed. So when he let everyone know he was heading to the Stone Tooth and the Glitterhame to speak with Durgeddin, it was a perfect chance to handle two things at once.

Durgeddin had appeared in the forge. No longer the dwarf he was in life, he was now an astral deva of Moradin. But even as a celestial servant, he returned to the forge to do that which he had done so well in life. Durgeddin was also one of the two people we knew of who knew the secrets of creating supremely enchanted weapons, which made his counsel most valuable to me.

I appeared just outside the Glitterhame and met up with Scorch and Valanthe. The mountain now had a stone tower projecting out one side – it belonged to a wizard called The Concordant that Scorch needed to speak with. While we walked, I sketched out some of my ideas to Scorch. He appreciated them for their somewhat underhanded quality, and agreed to undertake the research of the destination of stolen souls as well as finding some of Fraz’s likely enemies.

The forge itself was revitalized and beautiful. Many improvements were made, but the greater beauty was just in seeing it vibrant and alive with activity rather than a festering refuge for orcs. We proceeded deeper into the mountain, and at the great staircase Scorch went off to speak with The Concordant. 

Scorch entered the tower and found The Concordant quickly enough – a spectacled man sitting behind a desk writing furiously. He looked up from his work with one thing to say.

“Wow.”

“I mean. Wow. You’re Scorch. THE Scorch. Wow. I mean… well it’s just… that is…”

“Wow.”

“This is just… wow.”

“Oh but you didn’t come for this. You need to look at this. Come here.” The Concordant then showed Scorch an egg. Normally if you break the egg, the soul would fade off into the astral to wherever those souls go. But using a special lens, Scorch could see the soul twist until it hit a current in the ether, and then a tentacle wipped out and grabbed it.

“It’s not supposed to do THAT,” The Concordant explained. He was becoming quite excited at discussing these things with Scorch, but was at least still making sense. “Astral mechanics are all messed up right now. Something is messing with the whole potential soul thing. Someone is routing certain soul… _wavelengths_. Weak souls are getting pulled into these currents. Normally they would disperse but they’re getting caught in the tide.”

Scorch listened carefully, then asked “But where are they going?”

“I’m not sure. The tentacle is linked to the Far Realms. But where are they going? I don’t know. I suppose we could set up something to track it. Take some time of course.”

Scorch had no trouble recognizing that this was linked to our current situation, and tracking was critical. He was relaying key bits over the mental link, and repeated a question I asked him: “How long will it take to set up?”

“Hm… Hard to say… I’d say about eight days with the right help.”

“Very well,” Scorch nodded. “Get cracking on it. I’ll arrange the help you need.”

To this, The Concordant could only reply “Wow.”

******

Valanthe and I descended into the cavernous forge. At one of the anvils was a dwarf with greenish skin and feathered wings, pounding at a sword blade with equal measures of force and care. We just stood quietly, not wishing to interrupt a delicate process. He noticed us there, and nodded once in greeting but otherwise did not pause in his hammer strokes. Valanthe went off to speak with the Hammer and I waited, watching a master at work.

After an hour of heating and hammering, he nodded at the blade in satisfaction and quenched it in a bucket of thick amber liquid. He turned to nearby dwarves, all of whom were eager to aid and learn from the legendary Durgeddin, saying “The blade is ready for decoration. Bring silver.” Only after the dwarves had gone off did he come over to speak with me. Despite the heat and hard work, there was no sign of sweat or strain on him.

“Greetings, Master Durgeddin,” I said as I curtsied slightly.

He took in the sound of his name as if it were unfamiliar to him. “Hail. It is good to see the forge back in the hands of dwarves, doing what it was meant to. You are one of the ones who made that happen. I thank you for it.”

How could scant years seem so long ago? “I am glad I was able to help. I am grateful for your thanks, but it is not why I came. I seek your council and wisdom. Those that should know tell me you are one of two beings who have the skill and knowledge to produce enchanted weapons – weapons that transcend the magic of mortals.”

He sat on a rock shelf and stared at me in silence for some time before answering. “Aye, I have this skill. But my skill is not suited to create a weapon such as you would use. My skill is with steel and fire. But I can show you the way and pass on some measure of that skill.”

“Tell me, mistress elf, do you seek to create something lasting?” I nodded in reply. “Well it is not a simple task, but it requires more earnest nature than true skill. It requires a piece of your very soul, and the right ingredients to bind the unique properties of the item. And it requires the right place and time.”

At that I sighed. “Aye, time. That is something I have in short supply these days.”

“Ah it’s not a matter of how much time. It’s a matter of picking the right time. Such things can’t be made on a whim – they require the right time of day and year, when the cycles are aligned. And you would not create a weapon of power on the same day I would. For the dwarves, Firemeet is a very powerful day. But for you, that would be the Days of Melting, which are starting now. The Equinox is the time of the elves, when snows recede and life is renewed.”

“Now as for materials, you already have the most important part. But you will need others as well. But you need to chose the soul of the bow first.”

“Well,” I said “I have had some ideas.”

We spent hours. We talked about properties, spells, materials, and the very living soul of wood and string. By the end, I had a clear vision of what shape this staff would take and how to make it so. I had a lot of work to do before the equinox but it could be done. 

******

I was speaking to Hammer, Scorch and Valanthe about materials when Aethramyr called over the scales: Ruun-Khazai was under attack by Gulthias horrors. He was going to go engage them.

I sighed. Hard. As far as I was concerned, you could hang the whole place. The defense of “Kobold Country” was Chief Meepo’s problem from where I stood. But that didn’t matter – they were attacking _Aethramyr_, and that would not do at all. And so with a popping noise, we returned to Kobold Country.

At first glance, the large moving trees looked like the same ones that we had repulsed in the attack on Brindinford. But these trees were oozing a thick bloody sap, and wherever they walked, they corrupted the very life around them. As they lumbered closer, I realized the branches were formed into two distinct heads, and they carried a massive spiked club in each arm.

[OOC: I’d like to point out that Dravot arrived from the research demi-plane just after we teleported in. He used a _Gate_ spell to show up. I point this out as it is the first occasion that someone in the group has used a ninth level spell because they were just too lazy to walk. ]

Windsaber leapt at one and brought his jaws down around the trunk of a leg. And stayed there. The thick sap held him firm until with a second effort he wrenched free. Well, we wouldn’t want things to be too simple now would we?

We swung into action, releasing volleys of arrows, fire storms, and a sonic _Meteor Swarm_. Valanthe used some oil on Shatterspike to make sure it wouldn’t get stuck on the trees, and Aethramyr put it to good use. Within moments, the horrors were all destroyed.

A blind kobold could have followed where these things came from since they left a trail of blighted vegetation in their wake, and that’s nearly what happened. We started following the trail backwards when we found Meepo, who had done the same thing and subdued a human in plain robes. He had a wand in his hand and a conspicuous ring on his finger. Behind him there was a large area of disturbed earth giving the distinct impression that a large ring gate was used recently. 

As we walked over to the human, he began waking up. I was hoping that as soon as he saw himself surrounded by us, he would be overcome with a friendly spirit of cooperation. Instead his eyes went straight to the ring on his hand.

The next instant, the ring was all that was left. It hung in the air for a moment, along with the dust that was all that was left of the man’s body, then fell to the grass below. I’m not entirely sure if he knew the ring would completely disintegrate him but I have the feeling that he wouldn’t have used it if he did.

I wish I could say I’m surprised, but I can’t. Fraz always covers his tracks.


----------



## WizarDru

Zad said:
			
		

> *Loot:*
> Ring of disintegration
> Wand of Raise Dead, 1 charge





Heh. Worst. Lewt. Evar.

Just so we're clear, that's a ring of distintegration, target: self only.

Poor, poor Dwegman. Or rather, I should say DWEGMAN. As in: *D*M *W*ouldn't *E*ven *G*ive *M*e *A* *N*ame. Also known as Mook # 127. To clarify further, he thought the ring was his way to evade capture...which it was, just not in the fashion he expected. It may have sounded, from the writeup above, that he intended to reduce himself to ash, when quite the opposite was true. He was terribly disappointed, I can tell you.




			
				Zad said:
			
		

> Scorch entered the tower and found The Concordant quickly enough – a spectacled man sitting behind a desk writing furiously. He looked up from his work with one thing to say.






			
				Zad said:
			
		

> “Wow.”
> 
> “I mean. Wow. You’re Scorch. THE Scorch. Wow. I mean… well it’s just… that is…”
> 
> “Wow.”
> 
> “This is just… wow.”





The two things one needs to know about the Concordant are this: his bat familiar has a bladder-control problem (just ask the Hammer) and he reminds Scorch of nothing so much as a member of the Lone Gunmen from the X-files. This whole act highlighted something that Scorch, the character, hates...everyone knows him in the magical community, now...and most of them just assume he's the head of the guild. He's not Scorch, he's *Scorch*. Of course, what you don't see reflected quite as much here is how much Empire-building Scorch has been doing. Every visit to a mage translates into a little cash (or, in some cases, a LOT of cash) being dropped into their coffers, and a foundation being laid. Scorch is rapidly gaining influence over a large chunk of mages, which is pretty good when you consider that I play almost all NPC wizards as neurotic wackos. I think I can blame Glen Cook for that.




			
				Zad said:
			
		

> [OOC: I’d like to point out that Dravot arrived from the research demi-plane just after we teleported in. He used a _Gate_ spell to show up. I point this out as it is the first occasion that someone in the group has used a ninth level spell because they were just too lazy to walk. ]



 
One of the funniest moments of the game. Meepo bursts into the demi-plane, and before nearly getting smacked around by the Card Catalog Shield Guardian, indicates that the town is under attack. Dravot casually uses a Gate spell to jump from the demi-plane to the town square, taking Bolo with him. Zad just stared at him, incredulous. "_Wait a minute...you're using a *Gate* spell to get there?_" Dravot just smiled broadly and stared back at him. "_Yup._" 

Priceless.




			
				Zad said:
			
		

> Valanthe used some oil on Shatterspike to make sure it wouldn’t get stuck on the trees, and Aethramyr put it to good use.



 
From the Arms & Equipment Guide...which is like Val's Acme Catalog. She buys seemingly innocous, marginally useful items out of that thing, and then pull them out of a belt pouch at a moment's notice. It certainly made this combat a lot easier for Aethramyr.



			
				Destan said:
			
		

> Au contraire! I wish more SH's included this sort of information. I love when authors peel back the story to show a little bit of the mechanics behind the tales, or when the DM's pull aside the DM screen to explain their methods or thought process.
> 
> On an unrelated note, I think I've enjoyed reading the updates more since you guys officially went "Epic" - and I originally thought the opposite would prove true.



Well, thank you kindly. It's proving something of a challenge, but I think we're doing OK. I've got a lot of balls up in the air, and it's nice to know that the group seems to think it's working. I had my doubts, I don't mind telling you. The combat ran about as I expected, being an interesting battle, but of no real consequence to the Meepites. With Scorch, Bolo and Dravot all having mass damage spells that are shapeable, things get ugly quickly.

For the curious, I've posted the stats for a sample Gulthias Brute in the Rogues Gallery thread. They're a little underdeveloped, as I put them together without much thought (adapting them from some work of Psion's), but they did the job.


----------



## WizarDru

I'll see about posting some mini pics to the thread soon. Honest.

In the meantime, here's the stats on one of Valanthe's blades, the deadly ShadowCut.


*Sceadusceaft ("Shadow Cut")*
_Shadowcut is a Jade Vitaesis blade forged by the Diamond Prince. _

*Shadowcut:* *+6 Chaotic Vitaesis Medium Longsword*; AL CG, INT 13, WIS 10, CHA 13, Ego 17; Empathic communication, 60 ft. vision and hearing

_Lesser Powers:_ Darkness 3/day; Locate Object 3/day, change from longsword to shortsword or back as a standard action.

_Special Purpose:_ Defeat the Shadow King and his Minions

_Dedicated Power:_ 15d6 Greater Shout 3/day

_Personality:_ While incapable of speech, the blade of the Shadow Hunter is strongly attuned to it's purpose, and makes it's feelings known to its wielder. A blade of considerable power, it hungers to eradicate all evil shadows and corruptions of the Mirror Prime. It rarely likes to let an enemy shadow escape or even survive, no matter what the circumstances. It openly defies lawful agreements which prevent it from serving justice to any who would corrupt the Mirror Prime. It is believed that a former Jade Prince placed a fraction of his soul in the blade, but this is conjecture.

Like many intelligent magical blades, Shadowcut can make itself glow with an inner magical power at will...unlike others, though, it can also summon the darkness, too.  Sceadusceaft is currently on extended loan to Valanthe the Sleepless, as a tool to aid her in eventually stopping the ShadowKing by any means possible.


----------



## WizarDru

Bentwith was a simple man, with simple desires. The problem with the world, by his reckoning, was that it didn't provide him with ample opportunity to fulfill them. He wanted what all men wanted: power, women, comfort...the right to choose who lived and died. It made killing, rape and torture much easier. _And who wouldn't want to do that_? 

That's why he was out here in this forsaken field in the darkest hours of the night, waiting for a bag of gold. 

"_Bentwith_?", came the near-whisper.

He stared out into the darkness, trying to make out the caller. All he could see was farmland, spread out for miles ahead of him, and piles of rolled hay dotting the landscape. His heart started to beat faster...even though he had no reason to fear. No one knew he was here, no one knew what he was up to, except for...

"_Fisk_?" he replied, his voice more excited than he wanted it to be. "_Is that you?"_

"_No, fool, it's the Sorghum and Barley talking!"_ was the hissed answer, somehow managing to seem like a shout, even though he doubted one could hear it even five feet away. "_Do you have the information that I crave? Did you learn what I wanted to know?"_

"_Where are you? I cannot see you. I don't work with shadows."_ He hadn't just started doing this, after all. Had Fisk forgotten how this worked?

A cloaked figure steeped seemingly from out of nowhere. It was Fisk, sure enough. Had he been hiding behind the hay? Bentwith's eyes must be failing him. That, or he was just too damnedly tired.

"_Satsified? Now, did you find out what I wished?"_ More insistent? Good...that means a better reward.

Bentwith hesitated for a moment. He had been feeding Fisk information for years, but this request had been odd, for him. He had been acting as a spy, because it gave him a visceral thrill, but this wasn't the normal kind of information he collected...or that Fisk wanted, for that matter. His instincts told him that something wasn't right...but the money was good, so he ignored it. It wasn't the first time he was worried. Still, in for a penny, in for a pound.

"_Yes. A fool cleric was at the Crossed Swords, last night. He's obviously never learned how to hold his tongue or his drink. I got him in his cups and found him a wench. He talked well and long."_ The pride in his voice was self-evident. And why not? He was good at what he did.

"_A wench?"_

"_Aye. Not to worry, though, Gwendolyn knows how to keep her mouth shut and her shirt open. She's not a bright one, that lass....but she knows how to cloud a man's head, sure enough. She even convinced the fool that she needed private instructions in the faith."_ He laughed, and found himself sweating, despite the cold. He hated the girl, in truth. She only cared for gold, and the tavern's wayward fool of a singer. He'd be the death of that damnable bard one day.

"_And what did the fool say?"_ 

Fisk was clearly only in the mood for business, tonight. No banter. Fine, then. He wasn't enjoying this ridiculous business, in any case.

"_He said that they'd recovered the bones weeks ago. Safekept them in his local chapel, and now they've been moved to the Chapterhouse in the city. They've been venerated and interred. The fat pig was proud, as if offering up his one chance at fame and glory was a virtue._"

"_You see, I told you. We've missed them, here. Let's finish our business and reclaim them._" This was said in a completely different tone, almost a different voice. It didn't even sound like it was addressed to him. Had Fisk lost his mind? Fisk's eyes had never left Bentwith...but they looked hungry, almost feral. His heart suddently skipped a beat.

"*VERY WELL. MAKE USE OF THIS ONE. I WILL DEAL WITH THIS WENCH, AND THE CLERIC, AS WELL."* A new voice...a deep bass filled with quiet malice. Where was it coming from? He heard the dull thuds of heavy footfalls, heading towards the road. He turned back to Fisk.

"_What...who was that? Fisk...?"_ Bentwith turned to run....or tried to. His legs felt like lead, and his heart, if possible, began to beat faster. Fisk began lazily walking towards him, his features melting like hot wax. He pushed the cloak off of his shoulders, allowing it to fall to the ground. Fisk was....._*a woman*_. Naked. Beautiful. Moreso than any woman ever was. His eyes ran with tears to see her. His desire battled with his terror as she approached. Her eyes, her wings, her perfect form...it was more than he could stand.

"_Oh, lover, do not weep so_." Her too-perfect voice was sullied by his ears hearing it. Had any woman ever spoken more beautiful things? "_I will satisfy you, and you will satisfy me."_ Bentwith was overwhelmed with devotion and love. When her tongue lashed out at his neck, and her sweet, sweet poison began coursing through his veins, he knew that she would give him all that deserved. She stroked his hair, and stepped back a few paces. Somewhere in the distance, he heard screaming. The most perfect being who was not Fisk cast her gaze beyond Bentwith, to somewhere he could not see.

"_Oh, how unfortunate. He's so immediate. I'd best hurry, or he'll have burned the village to the ground without me. And there's so much love for me to share. Goodbye sweetling, I have to go or there'll be no one left alive for me."_

Bentwith began weeping. He pleaded with her not to leave. She was all he had ever wanted. She was power, women and comfort, all in one. She would be his wife...didn't she see that? She leaned down and whispered in his ear.

"_Oh, don't cry my love. I would not leave you cold in your bed, all alone. I brought someone with me...and she wishes for you to have her babies."_ Bentwith didn't understand, and cried and begged for her to stay. Because of this, he scarecly noticed the hulking shape that approached. It blocked out the moon, but paralyzed as he was, he could see no more. But she wasn't like not-Fisk...he knew that. 

And when some foul juice fell from her huge mouth and several small creatures fell with it, he was glad, because the beautiful creature who's name he had not learned (and why should he learn it? He wasn't worthy of it) had willed it. They were small, compared to their mother, but still obscenely large for her young. They crawled towards him, in an obscene race. One he never even saw reached him first. 

He heard screaming again, much closer this time. It took him a moment to realize that it was his own. In that scant moment, he realized three things. He wept to realize that he would never see that beautiful creature again. He wept as he realized he was dying. And finally, he wept as he understood that it was attaching to his spine. In his moment of clarity, he looked up at the mother towering over him.
And then she opened her eye, and he died.

A minute later, her baby got up and walked away.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Join us for the next chapter of *Undying: "Sudden Death"*.

Game: Friday, Update early next week.


----------



## WizarDru

And to prove I'm a man of my word, I'll load up one of the pictures of a Gith Warrior that Scorch did.  This is a quickie picture you understand, so please forgive the blurry nature of it.

The main reason I haven't posted any other mini pics yet is that they all require Valanthe's expert photoshop skillz to clean them up, and the Meepites would crucify me if I put up bad shots of their minis.  Scorch and Kayleigh in particular do some outstanding work, and I'd like to see them done correctly.

As for me...well, let's just say that I'm a much better DM than painter, and leave it at that.

You can't tell in this pic, but Scorch went so far as to mod a set of minis and then file their noses off to make them Gith.  It's pretty nifty.  Dig.


----------



## WizarDru

wolff96 said:
			
		

> By the way, how *did* Kobold Country stop the adventurers, anyway? Or are the new forces in this city so powerful even adventurers decided not to chance it?



I just realized that I never responded to this, as I was going through previous updates.

Short answer: Meepo's 'tribe' is fairly competent.  Not even a blip on the SSOM's radar, but very intimidating to a party of 10th level characters.  When you consider that there are now somewhere about 500+ inhabitants of Kobold Country, and that includes Haggarak and the Noble Croak, Wan Yu, lots of awakened Trees, ogres, rogue drow, freebooting wizards and a host of Geoff refugees....well, they talked them down, and then the two groups of adventurers to arrive so far have 'gone native'.


----------



## WizarDru

And, to make sure that I posted mini picture*s* (plural, not singular), I have two more minis to post for you.

These have both seen use at the table, usually as NPCs or monsters.  One is a chainmail mini, and the other is another modified Githyanki, both from Scorch.  Note again how Scorch removed the nose, and the detail on the axe grips and gith's face.  Valanthe cleaned these up and did some wizardry with them, so they look much better than the previous, I think.

You be the judge:






And here's another one for you:



Our only fear is that Scorch is going to go blind, doing the detail work on the eyes with a single-hair brush. ​


----------



## Aethramyr

*Forging*

Heat. Hammer. Temper...Heat. Hammer. Temper. Forges have a rhythm to them similar to something bards can create. The forge at Ruun-Khazai is excellent, and my skills at the forge have improved greatly working on it. I know it won’t be enough to forge weapons the equal of the Great Elvin blades, however. I’m not sure if any forges exist that can, on the prime. But what I’m forging only needs to meet the needs of this new village. Knives, Axe blades, short swords for protection in the wilderness. Nothing for war, today, but sweat getting into some smaller wounds stung, reminding me of past battles. 

I was working when a small, polite cough alerted me to another presence in the room with me. 

“M..My lord?” a small voice said. 

Pausing in mid hammer-swing, I saw one of Meepo’s Kobold friends. I’ve given up trying to keep track of which one. I recognize Meepo, and most of his Cadre. And Harem, it seems. But after that they’re hard to tell apart. 

“Hello. What can I do for you?” 

“Lady S`rrusus is looking for you” 

“I’m here already, little one.” A new voice.

And she was. Lady S`rrusus was the leader of the small band of dark elves who made their home in the new village. She was dressed rather formally for friendly chat. And I was dressed for working a forge, not for company. 

This Kobold was quick. “May I present Lady S`rrusus, My Lord” 

I bowed informally, and dismissed the Kobold “Greetings Lady S`rrusus. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

She looked at me, smiled oddly, and spoke. I couldn’t tell if she was mocking me or genuinely piqued at me. Knowing the female of the speicies relationship with the male Drow, probably the later. 

“Greetings, My lord. When we first spoke at the Inn, you had asked me for an oath of loyalty. I was wondering when you would get around to taking it from myself and the other Drow.”  

That explains the formal dress. When we met I had asked S`rrusus if the Drow would be willing to take an oath that there intentions at Ruun-Khazai were honorable. I wiped some sweat away from a small scratch on my shoulder, considering for a bit. Maybe too long. 

“My lord?” she grew impatient. 

“At the moment, I don’t know.” I told her truthfully. “When, or even if.” 

I expected the confused reaction. “What? I thought it would be a condition of us staying here.”  

“It may be.” I said. “For myself, your willingness to take the oath was enough. But Kayleigh, and I would guess other elves in general, they might not be quite so tolerant. Truthfully, I’m surprised she didn’t return from Celene with a contingent of archers at her back.” She hardened at the thought “Swearing an oath might go a long way to lessoning some of her anxiety over having you here.” 

She seemed to understand, and was quiet for a moment. Then looked at me again, and smiled like she just figured something out. “but there’s more to it, isn’t there?”

I was impressed, and nodded. “There is. But it would be a easier to show you. Meet me at the entrance to this main building in an hour. Dress warm.”

She looked oddly at me after that last statement, Nodded, and said “Very Well. One hour. My lord?” 

“Yes?”

“Not all of those scratches are from battle, are they?” she asked. 

She knew the answer. “One might argue that they were, if they knew the other combatant. One hour, my lady.” 

And she left.

I set about shutting down the forge, and preparing for a quick trip to the Land of Black Ice.

______________________

An hour later, We were trudging through the land of black Ice. Bolo almost went into a fit when I told him who I was taking, but he was more shocked then upset. I asked him to contact Ravenna and the Owl Just so noone would be too surprised to see us, and a hasty disguise spell kept most people from getting upset at seeing a Drow in their midst. 

My Companion spoke "I'm amazed at the diversity of places you surface dwellers can live, but I don't see how this explains why you havn't taken our oath..." 

"Not just live, but Thrive. This community, though small, is doing well even in one of the harshest climates in the land.  But more importantly, Look there. What do you see?"I pointed her gaze in the direction of one of the small shops. In the window, she could see one of the propriters was..

"A blue bugbear?!" She exclaimed. Then pondered for a moment. "But aren't bugbears...? Her question trailed off.

I smiled. "let's find out.", and opened the door. This shop was a small Tailoring shop. Most of his wares were utilitarian in nature, blankets and warm clothes for the climate, but some had intricate patterns and colors sewn into them and were quite well made. 

"Greetings My lord and Lady" Said the proprieter,  looking up from his work. "I am called Mut. Welcome to my shop" He still had the thick accent to his speech that most bugbears have when speaking common, but his grandiose choice of words made me think he was someone who took great pride in learning the language. 

"Is there something I can help you with?" he continued.

"A warm cloak, for my companion, I think. And some information. Do you know where we can find Tavik?" Tavik was the leader of the tribe of Bugbears."

"I'm afraid I do not know where Tavik is, sir." 

A new voice entered the conversation "Tavik is Journeying." This Voice was old, but still strong. "He is on a personal pilgrimage. Is there something I can do for you, Paladin of Sehanine?" 

I turned to see the Old Bugbear Shaman, leaning against a staff. S`rrusus took a step away, but when I didn't Immediatly take out a weapon, she relaxed. I bowed respectfully.

"Greetings to you, Elder. I was Looking for Tavik, to get some information, but I think your insights might be more of interest to my companion."

"Ah, yes, your companion. The bones told me you and your dark friend would be comming. To be honest, when I Understood it was you, and that you would be travelling with one of the Drow, I almost did not believe the bones."

I smiled. "well, since you are here, tell us, How do the Villagers and the Bugbears get along these days?"

A frown. "You know they get along fairly well, Paladin. There are some villagers who have dark thoughts about us, and some bugbears who harbor dark thoughts of the villagers, but for the most part they get along fine. This shopkeeper has many Villagers buying his wares, and he spends the money at places run by Villagers. But this is nothing you do not already know." 

"I know it, yes." I replied. "But Lady S`rrusus and her breteren have recently moved into a small, newly formed village. I thought she may like to know how it has worked in the past."

The old Shaman looked at S`rrusus, and thought. She seemed to be study her rather intently, then spoke to Her. "When he beat Tavik many moons ago, I thought he was simply a brute for that band of people he was with. After the fight, When he suggested that the Bugbears and the Villagers work together in this climate, I thought him even more foolish. But he had defeated our leader, and we pledged that we would follow his instructions. Many of us, on both sides, did not believe it would be a good thing. But to our surprise, It seems to be. I cannot speak for the villagers, but I think the bugbears's lives have improved enormously. The villager's forges produce weapons that make our people better hunters, and so there is plenty of food for everyone during the dark season. The villagers have come to our aid, and we have come to theirs on more than one occaision, to help with fire or foes." She smiled briefly, as a thought struck her. "The Dragons promised us our land back, and did not win us the land. You made no such promises, And we have our lands. I hope that answers your questions, Paladin." And with that, she left. 

S`rrusus and I made our purchase, and left the shop as well, and started back to the arrainged place we would be ported back to Ruun-kahzai. 

"Strange friends you have, Paladin."

"Perhaps. Did she answer your questions?"

"Most of them. But still not why you havn't asked for our oath."

"Really? Well, then. One more example. Look at Celene. They had policies of Isolationism for the longest time. Remember I said I half expected that Kayleigh would have archers at her back when she returned? It would have been because Celene saw everyone as members of a race, and not individuals. They would see you as Drow, their hated enemy, and not S`rrusus, someone who was simply trying to escape the underdark. I don't pretend I can change the mind of everyone in Celene, however, and If an Oath is what it would take to have them leave you alone, then That's the price. But for myself I would prefer that you and your bretheren work for the good of the village because they truly believe that it improves their lives as well, and not simply because of some oath." 

"So why is it that you didn't attack us, since you're an elf as well?"

I grinned. "I kind of had the feeling I let Kayleigh down when I didn't. But I wasn't raised by Elves, I was raised by humans. And when I was Choosen by Sehanine, I learned from other elves that Paladins were a rare occurance among them. And none before me were Paladins of Sahanine Moonbow. So if I liked it or not, at some point, someone was going to look to me as an example, and I didn't want to set an example of seeing everything as us versus them, and charging blindly into battle. One of Sehanine's worshipers is a Hag, normally a creature many would consider evil. But at some point she had the oppertunity to earn her favor, and I've looked to her for guidance on several occaisions. Meepo is a Kobold, but If we killed him when we first met him, You probably wouldn't be at Ruun-Kazzai. And Scorch would probably have been killed on one of our early adventures together." 

"I think I understand. If you assume how someone will act simply because of their race, you'll eventually get it wrong, and the person won't like that."

"Right. and if you're a country, and do it often enough, you won't have to have Isolationist laws. Other countries will Isolate you for you. Or in our case, you get isolated by the other people in the village." 

"What you say makes sense. Very well, I'll discuss it with the others. But I think they will see the wisdom of it as well."

"I think they will. Welcome to Ruun-Kahzai, Lady S`rrusus"

And with that, we ported back home.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*Bolo and the Elemental Plane of Water.*

Bolo stood in the Mage’s Library reading a book on Aquatic negotiations and generally pestering Scorch. “So you see, I need to right the wrong I’ve done to the Water Elemental kingdom or I’ll be out of harmony with the natural world. So I need your help to get to the Aquatic world.” 
Scorch who had been looking forward to a day _off_ from traveling and had already started into ‘Valences and Superfluxations of the Outer Planes’ was deep into to a little light reading. “What’s in it for me?” The mage said giving Bolo one of his patented burn a hole through your chest looks.
“Well we can stop over in Sigil. Maybe you can pick up a book like I just finished. You know the one that trains you to think more clearly.”
“Ah yes. A Tome of Clear Thought of the 5th valance. That would make the trip worth it.” He said and was just about to put his light reading down when out of nowhere he and Bolo heard “Sigil! Count me in!”
Valenthe must have been standing there for some time but as is her way was not even noticed until she actually addressed a person. 
And so it was that the three companions went to Sigil the City of Doors.

They found their way easily to Mortimer Fuvex vex vex’s shop and Scorch and Val were able to purchase some new items. Bolo on the other hand found that for some reason Mortimer was unable to see or hear him.  In fact Bolo thought back and realized the not once has the shop keep ever noticed him. Not once had he ever looked him in the eye or said hello. Bolo found it unnerving. Scorch found the fact that Mortimer thought Scorch had an “Imaginary” friend named Bolo rather unsettling. 
Val decided not to go “swimming” as she joked about the tip to the city of Glass and parted company when Scorch and Bolo found their way to the door to the Aquatic realms. Stepping through they found themselves in the middle of a vast ocean of water. Bolo was at a 180-degree angle from scorch but did not find the change in perspective unsettling as there was no read sense of up and down here.
Bolo shifted into a Triton form in order to breathe and Scorch cast a shape change spell and became a merman. They swam through many gulfs and eddies until they found themselves at the great city of Glass. Imagine a city sized construct of ice and solid water made to look like huge bubbles. Bolo was amazed. Scorch looked on it and said “Feh, this structurally unsound. I could level this place with one spell.”
“I have a bad enough reputation here Scorch. Please don’t say things like that.” The druid replied. They made their way to the porthole leading into the city and were stopped by 2 locathahs. In Aquan they asked “What is your business within the city?” They help tridents of a magical nature and used them to scan the druid and mage. Scorch was ushered through the porthole but when they scanned Bolo their sirens went off. The tow locathahs looked at one another and then back at the druid. Scorch from inside the city wall was trying to tell Bolo something but the sound was not getting through the glass wall.
Obviously in distress the city guards stood shaking in front of Bolo and said “Please don’t do anything rash. We don’t want any trouble.”
Bolo was shocked by their reaction to him. He looked at them and raised his hands in a show that he had no weapons. This act only served to startle the fish men.
“I’m Bolo Brandybuck. I’m here to speak to the Elder Elemental Pool. I don’t want to hurt anyone. Honestly.” At the sound of his name the locathahs both “soiled themselves” leaving a cloud in the water around them. 
Embarrassed for them, Bolo simply repeated himself and stood there in the muck awaiting their superior. From the Claxton bell going off he assumed the chief of security would be there shortly.
After a few moments he saw a Lizard person with a peg leg and a hook come to the portal door and Bolo was escorted in. He and Scorch were led through the air breathers’ areas and to the council chamber of the Pool of Elders.
Bolo looked into the pool and saw the shapes within. They rose up out of the water slowly these massive beings of liquid and their eldest spoke to Bolo and the Mage. 
“We have anticipated your coming Druid. What do you want here?” the elder asked.
Bolo bowed and tried to speak but Scorch spoke first and managed to make it seem as if Bolo could not speak for himself. “He’s here to see if he can’t get this nonsense over with. We all had a few laughs about the situation at first but it’s starting to effect Bolo’s efficiency and we can’t have that.” Scorch said mortifying Bolo and setting a bad tone for the talks. 
Bolo was quick to respond to Scorch’s attempt at diplomacy. “Great Ones. I am here to make reparations to those who my arrogance and lack of thought have harmed.” 
The elder looked at Bolo and read the charges. “Brandybuck you have summoned the forms of two of our kind and through ill thought out actions did cause them great harm. The first was when you were battling to save Brindenford and you summoned an Elemental to aid you and you decided it was a good idea to toss vials of a horribly toxic acid into the body of that august wave. Did you expect that kind of treatment was valid?” 
“I have no words Great One. I did not think the liquid could harm the Elemental. I was wrong and have tried to be more thoughtful in my summonings since then.” The druid replied.
The Elder did not seem moved by Bolo’s explanation. “What of the other one?” It said raising out of the pool to a height of 30’ a wave of water that could easily crown a human trading ship.  “You summoned one of the pool to the Elemental plane of Fire. You offered it no protections and it evaporated instantly. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Bolo almost in tears just looked up at the huge vortex of water and said, “I have no excuse. Not really. I was fighting for my life and thought the water elemental would help keep me alive. In the heat of battle I had forgotten just where I was. As soon as the Portal opened I realized I had doomed the elder but I didn’t have time to get a spell off to protect it. My sorrow for this act is greater even then the breath of this plane.” The elder saw that Bolo was shedding water for the Elder’s benefit and sank back down until just its crest was visible above the surface. 
“Young Druid We can understand when a being like your companion does these things. Wizards do not fully realize the use of conjured beings except as an effect to be used and discarded.” The Elder said.
Scorch just said “Feh.” And let it go.
Bolo looked into the vast waters and finally understood why the Water elementals had refused to help him. 
“You we hold to a much higher standard. A druid of your power and lineage must be thoughtful. We accept your apology and will grant you access to our realm again but only on a probationary basis. You are being watched Brandybuck.” The elder said and sank back into the pool.

Bolo and Scorch returned to Rhuun-Kazia with a focus for plane shifting to the Plane of Water for scorch and Dravot and one eased mind for Bolo. Seeing his charge return-sopping wet Windsaber just raised his head and said, “I’m very happy I wasn’t asked to go.”


----------



## WizarDru

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> In the heat of battle I had forgotten just where I was.



Heh.  'Heat of battle'.  That's a good one. 

As DM, of course, I get to add the standard boiler-plate that Bolo's account is somewhat...ahem, skewed.  Particularly with Scorch's reaction to the accusation of wizards not respecting or considering elemental harmony.  Mainly, Scorch agreed....he just didn't care.  It may not have been apparent, but Bolo didn't just loose the ability to summon water elementals, but he also lost the ability to assume their form.

The Elder Pool cut Bolo off because he's a druid, just as they wouldn't cut Scorch off for the same behavior.  Druids are, by necessity, held to a higher standard, at least as far as Elementals are concerned.  And a sentence of some importance that got left out was this:  "_Considering the current events on the Prime, we may be the only ones you can call upon, soon, so you had best consider our relationship well._"

The visit to Sigil was also quite amusing.  They found that Fuvex(3) had moved, and now can be found in the Noble's Ward.  Upon seeing Scorch enter, he became Mr. Rourke from Fantasy Island "_Places! Places, Everyone!_"  They managed to pawn off the Ring of Disintegrate (Target: Self Only), and negotiate a good deal for some items.

However, Bolo noticed, this time, that Fuvex(3) only addressed Scorch, and after a quick sense motive check, realized he acted as if Bolo wasn't even there....and always had.  This led to an Abbott and Costello routine for several minutes, with FuVex-Vex-Vex determining that Scorch had a "friend" (nudge-nudge wink-wink) named Bolo.  This made Scorch a little hot under the collar, when the tiefling offered him a set of Bracers of Light for "Bolo" to use as Bracers of Armor +4.  After all, poor Fuvie was under the impression that Scorch had come alone, not with two companions....and when he heard that Valanthe was about, he merely took Scorch's word for it.  He hasn't seen Val, physically, since she was first at the shop, 8 levels ago, was it?

During this sequence, Zad turned to me and said, "_This just writes itself, doesn't it?"  _


----------



## Zad

*Undying - Chapter 5*

*Undying – Chapter 5*

*OOC Notes:*
Exp for 22nd is 2500, for 23rd is 2000.

*This Week’s Adventure:*
Aethramyr just brought disturbing news. He attempted to find the Silverring though the Dreaming, but was not successful. Worse, he found the dreamscape was transformed with disturbing images floating throughout the area, making it hard to focus. 

Valanthe also took some time to scout around Kalstrand. She reported any number of unusual activities and creatures in the area and Orcus is definitely up to something significant there. They have largely uncovered the isometril prison of the Primal but have not yet breached it. 

Then things got worse. Much worse.

Dravot received a message – the temple at Hexpools had been attacked. When we arrived, we learned the grim truth.

The church was not attacked – it was defiled. The altar was smashed, the floor gouged by massive claws. Written in blood above the altar was a twisted, foul script. In the demonic tongue it said “Orcus says hello.” 

Most of the priests were dead, hanging from the ceiling with an inventiveness only the depraved could have. The one who was alive had been driven mad by what he had seen and there were abyssal symbols carved onto his skin. He was babbling continually about “her”. “She was so beautiful… shouldn’t have looked… so hideous… what she did with the bones…”

“The bones” turned out to be the bones of Bellamy. They had recently been found and brought here to be interred. The creatures that attacked the temple stole the skull and defiled the rest.

Dravot set about restoring the church, both physically and spiritually. The attack of the dragons had been bad but it was not specific; this attack shocked and terrified the clergy and worshippers alike for it was as brutal and vile as it was specific. For me, the shock was somewhat different: I could not believe Pelor allowed this to happen in one of his churches. I had spoke abstractly of the gods turning their backs on the Prime, but now it seemed rather more material. And what of the others? If Pelor has abandoned his faithful, what about Corellian? I could not even let myself ponder that.

During services the next morning, Dravot looked up from the pulpit and saw a figure standing in the doorway.

Venn.

But as quick as he was there, he vanished, and Dravot could not find him after the service ended. Venn certainly seemed to be getting around these days.

Then things got worse. Much worse.

Thorkeld sent a message to Dravot: _Brindinford is gone._

At first I cautioned against charging out there – it was clearly too late to do anything, whatever had happened. But Dravot was intent on going, and I realized how I would feel if it were my home, and quickly stopped arguing. We teleported to Brindinford without any further delays.

It was gone. The entire down was simply gone. There was no rubble, no broken buildings, no fires. It was like someone had scraped the foam from the top of a mug of ale. Every building was just gone, their basements still sitting in the ground. The removal seemed confined to the city proper – the pumphouse on the far side of the river was still there, as was the Temple of Wee Jas just outside of town. And there was one more curious thing – Aethramyr noticed that whatever force did this took care to leave all tombs and gravesites intact. Scorch detected a residual trace of dampened magic – more of an absence than a presence – but nothing else. It seemed as though someone had taken great effort to clean up all traces that would have been left behind by something so powerful.

Dravot was feeling very angry and very confused. The only ones around to ask were those inside the Temple of Wee Jas, and it was they who would receive his ire. He stormed into the temple and found it empty. He shouted loudly, demanding to see someone, and eventually a long set of footsteps could be heard drawing closer and closer to the courtyard. Eventually a door opened, and The Tatterdamelioncame into the courtyard.

He looked… tired. Even for the undead.

“It happened sometime yesterday, we think. I am the only one left, set to guard this place for whatever reason. There was an intense light that descended on the town, and then it was gone. There were being in the light – I could not see them as anything other than intense points of light. It all happened in only a minute.”

“And where are the rest of your Order?” Dravot demanded.

“Fled. They all ran. The undead who were here are all destroyed, washed away in a cleansing wind, save for me. I remain… to protect.”

Then he added “I believe the storm is about to break.”

Dravot was stunned, now denied even anyone to vent his rage on. “What about the primal?”

“The powerful creature imprisoned below the town? I can still feel it, but it is no closer to escape than it was before. There is something else however. After the… after _it_ happened, someone came. He appeared in the town and seemed to be inspecting the remains.” 

Dravot quickly described Venn on a hunch and it paid off. “Aye that was him. He frightened some of the order. He seemed neither surprised nor expectant at what he saw. I confess I could not tell if he was the cause or just a casual observer.” 

Dravot asked some questions about exactly when this had all happened. Near as we could put together, the town disappeared some hours before the temple in Hexpools was attacked.

Aethramyr set out to try his own means of investigation and entered the Dreaming again. There was a dead zone over the entire town (or what used to be a town). Nothing dreamt there any more. While he was in the Dreaming he tried to go to the sacred place of his Goddess but as he got closer he found himself held at bay, unable to approach. An avatar appeared before him and told him he may not pass, but refused to explain. 

Aethramyr asked him what had happened to the Silverring and why he did not dream. The being replied “When doors that should nto be opened are opened, sometimes things fall through. Like an ocean with the ebb and flow of the tides, the smallest and the largest are affected.”

I’m not sure if Aethramyr was becoming frustrated as well or just seeking advice. He asked “Is there anything you _can_ tell me?”

The creature thought a moment and then said “If I were being hunted, I would chose my battleground. I have said more than I should. You must go now.”

First Pelor, now Sehanine. This was very bad. Lacking any other immediate idea, I decided it might be wise to contact Lord Gelban and inform him of the destruction of Brindinford. 

“Kayleigh! I’m glad you contacted me. The scales have been unreliable of late and I was unable to contact you. I suspect they may stop functioning altogether soon. You know I have other adventurers in my employ. They are not as powerful as you but still notable. Someone has slain them all. We have spoken with one of the corpses – it told us little but it did reveal they were ambushed by powerful demonic forces. One wielded some kind of terrible morningstar with a human skull imbedded in it. They were murdered six hours ago. At least two of the attackers were fiends, and there were two or three abominations of some horrible order. One of the group had his spine damaged in an unusual manner.”

“And I take it that you think that we are likely to be the next target?” I asked.

“I fear you are in grave danger,” he answered.

Suddenly the “If I were being hunted…” comment made sense. Sehanine’s own champion was being hunted and she barely told him.

Dravot attempted a _Sending_ to the solar he knew in Pelor’s host. I didn’t catch the entire message but I noted part of the reply:

_You have contacted me at the worst possible moment…_

I swallowed a scream. Of course it’s a bad moment – why else would we be trying to contact him? The gods have truly gone mad or maybe just stopped caring. While I was ranting inside my mind, Dravot added something else.

“He’s here. He’s on the Prime. I can sense it.” But Dravot wasn't content to stop there. He attempted to scry Aylwyn and was prepared to transport himself to the solar directly. But instead he got a rude surprise: Venn. 

The wizard's face appeared in the crystal ball and he said "No. We won't be having any of that either."  And then the crystal ball went blank.

Valanthe was now starting to show signs of concern. She wanted to go to Dyvers immediately to check on Ardestor, her former mentor. We all tried to tell her that it would be foolish of us to split up, knowing there were assassins coming for us.

She responded “I’ll be ok.”

I stared back at her in disbelief. She might be ok, but what about the rest of us? I couldn’t believe she was ready to just abandon us. But eventually she relented and decided not to go. Instead she sent a _Sending_:

_Pelor hid Brindinford. Has Tritherion said or done anything? Be prepared. Seems gods are on the edge of war. Orcus desecrated temple. What have you heard?_

I wish I was as sure as she was that Pelor did something to Brindinford – we had no reason to believe that was the case, especially given the indifference of the gods lately. Ardestor’s reply came back concerned.

_Can’t speak to Tritherion. Celestials on the Prime. Interdiction is increasing. Something big is about to happen. Be careful._

Nothing really new there. The overall conclusion was simple: The world seemed to be coming to an end, and if we weren’t careful, we’d meet our end first. We decided to work on the assumption we were being hunted and tried to think of a good spot for a fight. In the end we could only think of one. We had no allies who could do us any good it seemed, but at least we could chose a place where there were no innocents around. And the holy power of the place, if it was still there, might tip the balance in our favor. So we wasted no more time and teleported to the Pyre of Pelor. 

We arrived and began casting long-lasting spells before proceeding down the tunnel to the Pyre. Bolo began summoning an elemental swarm but it would take some time to complete. It was time, it turned out, that we didn’t have.

The enemy appeared shortly after he started. I’m guessing they didn’t want him to finish the spell and rushed their attack. Deep rumbling indicated the presence of two large creatures underground. Floating in the air was a gaunt looking beholder with elongated eyestalks and a vortex of shadow where the central eye would have been. In the back stood a smallish figure in a cloak, no other features visible. And in the front stood a twisted creature. Though he had been tortured and twisted in hideous ways, there was no mistaking Seltan the Fellsoul. His skin looked as though it has been slashed and stitched together a dozen times and the Fellsoul no longer bore his original striking appearance. His red skin was covered in sores and scars, with occasional horns or spikes breaking through. In his claw was a horrible morningstar formed from the shards of his former Vitaesis blade, with Bellamy's skull at it's center. His shield bore a device of a decapitated head, and his entire body rippled with evil shadow energy. His heavy armor was adorned with sharp spikes, and engraved with red-glowing runes on black metal that looked as if it was still molten hot on the inside.

And then things got worse. Much worse.


----------



## WizarDru

SpaceBaby Industries said:
			
		

> I am obviously missing the subtext here. Can someone enlighten me the source of these "scratches" and this "other combatant"?
> 
> Still enjoying the story, and seeing how Epic D&D can be played.



Not to put to fine a point on it, but Softwind has the way of it.  Aethramyr is a paladin, but he's an elven paladin of Sehanine Moonbow.  He is a leader, warrior and inspiration to the People of the Testing...but chaste is not on that list.  Suffice it to say that there are more than a couple of elven ladies in Highfolk, Celene and the Lendores who sigh wistfully at the mention of the Paragon. 

The romantic endeavours of each character varies, in game, including the complicated political arrangements for Dravot, the cat and mouse relationship of Kayleigh, the sassy playful dalliances of Val and the Hammer, Bolo's freewheeling non-committance, and Aethramyr's mutual appreciations of the opposite sex.  The difference between Bolo and Aethramyr's habits are predictable, Bolo's are wild and elemental engagements, while Aethramyr is much more practiced and concise.

Oh, what's that?  What about Scorch?  Let's just say that he considers relationships somewhat...inconvienent.  He's not above physical gratification, but he's much more concerned with power and knowledge.  A relationship, to Scorch, is just another interference in his continual ascension.  He already constantly begrudges his actually having 'friends'.  While he'd never admit to appreciating their company, he still lets them grudgingly drag him into doing 'the right thing'.  Feh.


----------



## WizarDru

Lefferts said:
			
		

> Can someone remind me who Seltan, Venn, and
> Bellamy are?



Seltan the Fellsoul first appeared in Chapter 6 of A Family Affair.  (Page 1)

_"By the time he began reaching for a potion in his belt, it was too late, and the flurry of blows laid him low. As he bled, he croaked out a final request to Jozan – “Don’t let them raise me….”"_

A blackguard working with Sebastian (dravot's bastard half-brother who was finally slain by Valanthe during the quest for the Evocation binder), Seltan and his panther companion suffered badly when the Meepites threw the whole of their striking power at them in the massive battle at the conclusion of that adventure.  His dying request prompted Aethramyr (then known as Jozan in tribute of the famouse cleric of Pelor) to bury him and hallow the ground, to protect the blackguard from being reanimated.

The wizard Venn first made his appearance, of a sort, in Divine Wrath, Chapter 2.  (Page 4).

_"There was a small village up in this land, small but thriving. They discovered the vein of isometril and they began to study it, along with the town wizard Venn. Eventually, interested parties began to show up. The ore . . . changed her brother and Venn."_

Originally a reclusive wizard of noble mind, Vehn was kidnapped by a then insane Egg of Coot.  The Egg then apparently gave him over to the Shadow King's minions, who implanted the Theorpart of Chaotic Evil literally inside his body.  Over time, the ensuing conflict nearly destroyed Vehn, and after the Egg's defeat, the Meepites kept him safe for a short time, until the turned him over to the Gold Dragons, who kept him in the Shining Isles, their demi-plane.  Vehn escaped recently, and has been showing up all over, but who's intent remains a mystery.

Bellamy is mentioned during The Forge of Fury, Chapter 7.  He appears in Flashback in A Family Affair, Chapter 1, and then in person in Chapter 2.

Bellamy was Dravot's mentor at the chapterhouse in Hexpools, and his family's trusted spiritual advisor.  Never a young man, we discovered in The Green and the Black, Chapter 1 that Bellamy had died during the siege and escape from Hexpools, protecting others.  He had been brought back as a ghost, working to protect the refugees.  He is presumably still doing so, although his bones were recently recovered.


----------



## WizarDru

Destan said:
			
		

> You know - this post alones speaks volumes about the wonderful richness, the complexity, the longevity, and the friendships that must endure with this great campaign. Most gamers, including yours truly, can only yearn for such things.



Believe me, I appreciate it (both the compliment and the players).  Every time I read a 'my players/my Dm are/is so fill-in-the-blank', I just have to scratch my head, and thank the stars above.  I've always gamed with enthusiastic players who actively enjoy the game and trust me as implicitly as I trust them.  

The story hour not only keeps me honest, but serves as an excellent log of the game that we all can use to reference material that's already occured.  It's somewhat difficult to keep track of the number of balls I've got floating in the air at any given time, and the story hour helps with this immensely.  My goal has been to try and create a moderately complex world, where it's clear that things happen without the players, decisions have consequences and that they have the ability to influence events in a meaningful way.  I'm sometimes concernend that the first two goals have obscured the third one, but I'm still feeling that out.

My current biggest concern is wondering how long the campaign will continue.  Originally, I had envisioned the final showdown with all of the campaigns BBEGs by 20th level, but the ELH changed that.  The real question is how far we'll go with it.  As long as fun outweighs any negatives, I suppose.  

In most ways, the game hasn't substantially changed.  1st-level Dravot negotiating with a merchant and sheriff in Oakhurst isn't that far removed from 20th-level Dravot negotiating with the king of Ekbir, in the grand scheme of things.  Many non-combat issues remain, at their core, the same.  In fact, it's only the combat issues that give me any pause.

Well, that, and Valanthe rolling a skill check and getting a new campaign high of *85*.  Yeah, that's not a typo...it's 15 less than a hundred.  For some creatures, I don't even bother rolling.


----------



## dravot

*Dravot's Journal: Undying Chapters 5 & 6*

As I recall the events of the last day; how can it have only been a few hours?  It seems to me like we’ve been at this for years now.  I cannot believe how tired I feel, how worn out emotionally I feel by what has been done to us, and our families, and our homes, our faith and our souls.  For every triumph that we have achieved, we have twice as many adversities thrown in our way.  For every life that we save, two more are placed in peril.  Sometimes I wonder if Kayleigh doesn’t have the right of it…maybe everything would be better if we left well enough alone.

I have been lost in thought quite a bit lately.  People need to physically get my attention if they wish to actually speak with me.  I have come to a disturbing realization: I am undergoing a crisis in my faith, the depths of which is approaching that which I felt when we were at Nightfang Spire, although quite different in scope.

I am still trying to divine (small ‘d’ divine, that is) within myself just what this crisis is, and what it means to me.  Perhaps it is nothing but unrealistic expectations on my part.  I am certainly but a humble man, fallible in many ways.  Mayhaps I thought that being ‘the Living Saint’ would mean that Pelor and his Host would grant me more information about the crisis facing the Prime; that I might help in some meaningful way, but I am wrong.  I have been kept in the dark as much as the lowliest acolyte, and yet, I could be doing so much more.

When I saw what had happened in Hexpools, I wept.  How was that allowed to happen?  I could have prevented this (although certainly not without the aid of my noble companions) had I but known of it.  The rage that I felt when I learned what foul creature did with Bellamy’s bones still simmers within me.  No amount of meditation and prayer has eased that pain.  All I can think of is to take my vengeance upon her.  At times I wish that her lifeless corpse be treated in the same manner, and then I shake myself from the waking nightmare that is my lust for vengeance, and remind myself that as a follower of Pelor, I should be above such things.

At which point I look at Thorkeld.  He has said little, if anything since Brindinford, though I cannot blame him for that.  He blames himself for being lost in the shadow maze, but quietly I am glad that it happened, for I am afraid that he might have done something rash and foolhardy when we fought Seltan.

It is our best guess that Brindinford is under the protection of Pelor or his Host, and yet that is the problem: it is only a guess.  Given the circumstances, it is the most likely of explanations, yet in many ways it is the most troubling, for if it is true, then my home and my people, my town and my family is missing, hidden by my god (or His agents) and I know nothing about it, and that is the meat of the problem.  They have been placed in mortal danger by their very association with me, a circumstance which they have little control over, and by my calling to do Pelor’s duty, which they have even less control over.  If they have been placed under divine protection, as we suspect, then why do I know nothing about it?  I am the Living Saint, after all.  Is it too much to ask that I be warned of such an action?  At least then, Thorkeld, who is as good and faithful a follower of Pelor as there ever was, wouldn’t be numb with pain and rage at what has happened.

 If Pelor hasn’t hidden our home, then the stakes go up and the consequences become much more dire.  Who has it?  Are they safe, or in mortal peril?  Are they all dead?  It is too painful to contemplate.  Again, if this is the case, am I wrong to wish that Pelor have warned me?  Perhaps I could have prevented it (again, with the help of my excellent companions.  I dare not entertain notions that I could have headed this off on my own).  Perhaps I could have found a vital clue to rescue them, if they are still alive.

So I find myself stuck; stuck between the hubris of being His divine agent, and the desire to help (and being forcefully kept away).  I’m trapped between the fear of ignorance of His plans and the fear of actions by mine enemies.  I vacillate between action, which seemingly causes more problems, and inaction, in which no one is helped.  

And what scares me most of all is the sudden realization that although I am but a lowly man in the eyes of my god (not even remotely approaching the status of the lowliest of the celestial Host), I have done much in his service, and I am not a young child and I find that I am angry to be treated as such.  I struggle to come to grips with this, and I am afraid of where it might take me.  I do not like these feelings of frustration and rage that are within me, and yet I do not have any easy avenue to drain them away from my soul.

I understand that we will be speaking with Vehn shortly.  Perhaps he’ll have the answers that no one else is willing to provide me.  Until then, I will meditate upon the teachings of St. Belline and try to find an anchor for my soul once more.


----------



## Zad

> It's funny too, because Zad/Kayleigh keeps questioning me as to why Dravot is so calm about everything and hasn't flown off the handle. Well...for him things have reached a boiling point. I'm quite interested in seeing what will happen next, and how Dravot will react.



Kayleigh has frequently questioned Dravot about this kind of thing. (Plus some OOC joking from me too.) But strictly in character, it's a front. Kayleigh is outwardly questiong Pelor and why he isn't doing anything, but her unspoken concern (concealed partly even from herself) is the inaction of her own diety and if he too is "gone". She's putting Pelor's face on it and railing at him a little, but her real fear is Corellian is withdrawn and the elves without his protection. But it's just too troubling for her to openly contemplate. In a wierd way, she's looking to Dravot to provide some faith.


----------



## Zad

*Undying – Chapter 6*

*OOC Notes:*
Exp for 22nd is 5000, for 23rd is 3500.

*Loot:*
Reaper’s Fist
Ebon Ward (+4 large steel shield of spell deflection)
Belt of Giant Strength +6
+5 demonmight warded full plate of dark soul protection
Ring of Protection +4
Cloak of Charisma +4

*This Week’s Adventure:*
Seltan the Fellsoul swung his mace idly at the ground. “For a year. For a year I’ve waited. Oh, I’ve got you to thank for that. Especially you, paladin. I asked you not to let them raise me, and you did. For that I have to thank you. But there were other ways…”

He drifted off for a moment then suddenly snapped back. “I’m sorry I don’t look so good.” And he smiled a mouth full of twisted teeth and fangs.

Aethramyr regarded him casually and quipped “You have looked better.”

Seltan shrugged mockingly. “I’ve felt better too. But no matter. My master feels you’ve become too much of a problem.” He spoke to his companions “The paladin is _mine_. Make the others look _bad_.”

Aethramyr just shook his head sadly. “Seltan, you and your master have no concept of making weapons.”

There was a snort from one of the cloaked figures, who tossed off his cloak and hefted his own weapon – a massive sword. He was a massive warrior with wicked armor and a sword that probably weighed as much as I did. “Warduke show you weapons.”

But before Warduke could pounce, the beholder started chittering madly. “Baron Waste! Baron Waste show you! Show you the darkness!” Then it started giggling insanely and eye rays shot out everywhere. From the black vortex in the center, a cone of darkness washed over us. Besides just being dark, Thorkeld’s grip on reality was torn away, and he was drawn off to some other shadowy place.

We only had one tactical advantage here and that was provided by the Pyre of Pelor. But it was still some hundred feet away down a corridor. I was determined to make the most of that advantage however, and after a _haste_ spell we began retreating towards the Pyre. Dravot dropped a _sunburst_ and also retreated towards the shrine, but Seltan absorbed the sunlight into his shield and it washed over most of the others with little effect. 

Then a small dinosaur darted out from under the cloak of the smaller figure, and raptor, the cloaked figure, and Seltan teleported down the hall in an attempt to cut us off. Seltan also called in his nightmare steed which further filled the hallway. After arriving, the small figure let her cloak fall away. She was stunningly beautiful and completely naked. Even her strange black horns were alluring and sensual and her blackish green eyes spoke of the secrets of the night. She had a sylvan beauty and grace but turned dark and touched by forbidden desires.

She stood for a moment looking out, almost expecting something. But nothing happened, and her look changed from prideful to miffed making her all the more desirable.

Scorch fired a spray of light and then also started withdrawing down the hallway. As he passed over it, a large section of the floor seemed to suddenly… _flow_. Then a massive xorn rose up through the fluid earth and shouted “Manthrax is *hungry*!” and swiped at the passing Scorch.

The scene was breaking into two separate battles – one at the entrance, and the other near the Pyre. In the tunnel, Seltan was trying to prevent us getting closer to the holy site, and sent forth a gout of abyssal flame that blazed out of the tunnel entrance and went on for hundreds of feet before dying out. Fortunately it was a flat sheet of flame rather than a blast, and since most of us were in the air at various heights, he could not try and catch us all in it. The fire crackled at me, but I was able to twist away from it unharmed, while behind me Scorch in the form of a solar, was only singed. 

I wasn’t sure what to expect from the corrupted nymph, but I was fairly sure she’d be easier to destroy than Seltan. They were trying to block the passage to the Pyre, but they weren’t flying and I was. The ceiling offered me enough room to pass overhead and I used it, firing a set of arrows at the nymph as I went by. But as I fired, the small dinosaur leapt in front of her and only one arrow made it to her perfect skin. The raptor crashed to the stone floor with barely the fletchings of the arrows prodruding from its chest, while his mistress bled blackened blood with a vulnerability that made her all the more enticing. 

If Scorch was smitten, it didn’t slow his reactions any. He fired a ray of cold, striking the nymph squarely in the back and she let out a melodic scream. The nymph shed a single, perfect tear and spoke a few words then stepped into the stone wall beside her. I couldn’t tell if she was fleeing or just preparing for something more sinister, but she didn’t emerge anywhere else immediately. Dravot uttered the holy words of Pelor, and while it had no effect on most of the combatants, it did cause Seltan’s nightmare to become completely paralyzed. Seltan, unfazed, uttered the dark words of an evil spell and sprouted dragon-like wings from his back and flew up right in front of me.

This could be very bad. 

I fell back a few paces and fired as many arrows as I could. They bit hard into Seltan but he was determined to crush my skull with that mace. Valanthe appeared behind him and spilled what seemed like half his entrails, but he was still coming.

Then Dravot, quite likely, saved my life. In retrospect, perhaps I should have retreated from Seltan further. I wish I would say it was faith in the others to protect me, but it was just lack of thought. But Dravot protected me all the same. He shattered the enchantments protecting Seltan and as they scattered on the ether, the demonic wings melted away and Seltan fell to the floor.

I looked down at my foe, now well out of reach. He looked so angry I thought his hate would try to strike me dead on its own.

And I smiled down at him. And then I sank six arrows in his chest, and with a hiss and a groan, Seltan the Fellsoul died a second time. Valanthe quickly pounced and made sure he was dead – if she hadn’t, I would have. If we were forced to retreat now, at least one of our assassins is dead so it would be a victory. Zera, who had been harrying Seltan, brought her polearm down in one swift stroke across the neck of the paralyzed nightmare, and the creature fell beside its dark master.

Scorch then looked calmly at the elder xorn. Manthrax was something that could be dealt with, but not right now. I recognized the tell-tale popping sound, and Manthrax was in the _maze_. Unfortunately Manthrax was either smarter than he looked, or very luck, and he returned almost immediately. But Manthrax was now clearly in our sights. I started firing arrows while Valanthe made a series of lightning-quick attacks. Scorch imprisoned Manthrax again, this time in a force cage. The cage was barely big enough to hold him but he was trapped, and there was plenty of room between the glowing bars for me to continue shooting until Manthrax collapsed. Manthrax was definitely smarter than he looked, since he realized this too. He promptly _plane shifted_ and fled.



Meanwhile outside the shrine, a different battle raged. Warduke charged Windsaber and took several cuts with his sword, now blazing with fire, and cut several gashes in the lion. Aethramyr charged the dark warrior, and their swords cut back and forth in vicious flashes. Bolo attempted to _Shadowblast_ the beholder, but it had no effect – whatever the creature’s ties to shadow, they weren’t enough to let the spell take hold. Bolo then changed into a bulette and dove underground. If I hadn’t been so preoccupied, I would have been stunned. But down he went, and a moment later he was swallowed (yet again) by The 100th Horror, a giant worm. 

Despite Seltan’s directive to leave the paladin for him, Warduke was attacking Aethramyr with reckless fury. While the two traded blows, Windsaber pummeled Warduke with relentless precision. Then the ground shook and heaved and a few feet away the massive armor-plated century worm that was the 100th horror erupted from the ground. It convulsted and spat out a blazing mass of energy that impacted on the hillside. Bolo had countered being swallowed (yet again) by shifting shape to a fire elemental which the worm found entirely unpalatable. The worm let out a scream so loud it deafened Aethramyr. But apparently he wasn’t the only one – Baron Waste began shouting to his companions, apparently also unable to hear. It fired several eye rays at Aethramyr but there was no effect.

Bolo called on the power of earth, and a wickedly sharp stalagmite shot up from the ground impaling the eye tyrant solidly. That at least gave Baron Waste something to keep him busy. By Aethramyr, the combat was intense, and Warduke might have held his own in single combat. But this wasn’t single combat, and the combined assault of Aethramyr and Windsaber was proving to be too much for Warduke to bear, especially given the lack of support from his allies. He invoked the power stored in a magic ring, and disappeared. I count us fortunate that while these creatures are powerful, their commitment to each other seems quite superficial. 

Unfortunately for Aethramyr, this was not much of a reprieve, as the 100th Horror pounced and swallowed him whole. Inside the worm’s gullet, her young crawled and flopped towards Aethramyr, intent on feeding on him.

It turned it’s head towards Bolo and only then did we realize that the missing eye from Baron Waste had been grafted to the forehead of the 100th Horror. As magic melted away, Bolo reverted to elven form.

Then it swallowed Bolo again (yet again). Who naturally immeadiately burst into flame returning to fire elemental form once out of the anti-magic field.

Then for good measure, it swallowed Windsaber too.

With a full gullet, the century worm dove into the earth. Windsaber was badly injured and the burning fire and acid inside the worm was not helping matters. It was also only a matter of time before the young attached themselves to their spines and destroyed them all. However by now, Baron Waste had disappeared somewhere and Manthrax had fled. Dravot stepped from the cave in time to see the tail of the worm disappearing beneath the earth with three of our friends still inside. Dravot dropped to one knee and prayed to Pelor.

And Pelor answered. Bolo, Aethramyr, and Windsaber appeared before him, plucked from the belly of the worm. 

The 100th Horror seemed to be in full retreat; even denied its meal, it was not going to return. I didn’t want to see a creature like that roaming around unchecked, and flew down the tunnel after it. Fortuantely it was not particularly fast, and I pursued it through its tunnel firing arrows all the way. It tried to turn or go deeper, but it was no use, and after a great many volleys, it rolled on its side and lay still.

It seemed we had survived yet another attempt on our life. But we still had no understanding of what was happening in the world, and seemed powerless to do anything. Off in the sky, I began noticing bright flashes playing, like the twinkling of stars. Only it was daylight. Soon we could make out small eruptions of light or smoke and starting at it, the truth became clear.

Angels and demons were locked in mortal combat. The war of the heavens had come to the world, despite our attempts to stop it. We stood there, just watching. Even if we chose to act, the scale of the battle was far beyond anything we could influence as thousands of fiends and celestials fought in the skies, and that was just what was within sight of us. 

Then a half mile away, two beings crashed into the ground. A deva and a pit fiend separated themselves and engaged each other again. Feeling powerless, and somewhat hopeless, I started firing at the pit fiend, determined to at least try to do _something._ Several arrows stuck in the pit fiend, and it teleported away, followed by the deva a moment later.

We discussed several possibilities – going to Ruun’Khazai (which I saw no point in) or the Land of Black Ice (which I also saw no point in). Regretably, I couldn’t think of a single idea that was any better than just standing there. But as we watched the battle play out, I started to make out a shaft of energy in the distance. It was difficult to notice at first but eventually we could make it out. It was large but impossible to tell how far away it was. It was roughly in the direction of Greyhawk and the Nyr Dyv and as we moved that direction we realized it was hundreds of miles away. 

Then Scorch received a message from The Concordant. We moved to the Glitterhame to speak with him. Once he was over his awe, he told us that planar mechanics had gone mad. Souls were now ricocheting back to the Prime as if the entire plane had been encased in some kind of shell. Souls could no longer move on.

A few hours ago, he began to suspect someone was increasing the intensity of the pull on souls, and then suddenly it was all shut down and the “shell” appeared. This type of thing was beyond the power of mortals. This was the act of the divine and, The Concordant believed, of a new influence.

Dravot looked around and said “Venn.”

A chilling silence followed. Scorch produced the crystal ball and tried to scry Venn. It was easily done and Venn was looking back at us. He said “Hello.”

This was clearly not normal.

Dravot asked “Have you sealed the Prime?”

Venn replied without emotion “Yes, we have. I think it’s time we had a talk.”

“Past time,” Scorch agreed.

“Things are escalating. Fraz is making a reach for divinity. I would rather he not obtain it. I will open a gate there in ten minutes. You can reach me near the Nyr Dyv. Make sure Valanthe comes. I would open it sooner but I am somewhat taxed at the moment.” And the ball went dark.

We stood in near total silence for ten minutes. What was there to say? We just waited. In ten minutes, the promised gate appeared and we stepped through.

We appeared on the shores of the Nyr Dyv. To the left we could see Dyvers in the distance. It was not in flames but it had sustained some damage. Standing at the shore was Venn, surrounded by three others – two men and a woman. When we arrived, they moved to stand behind Venn in a defferential way.

Venn regarded us with only a trace of emotion. “Thank you for coming.”

And then it hit us. It was Venn. 

And it was Ralishaz.

He stood with his three avatars behind him, now recognizable despite their human forms. 

“Let’s have a nice long chat.”


----------



## WizarDru

Seule said:
			
		

> I failed on Venn, and I have a niggling feeling that I /really/ should know who that is.  I think I read too many storyhours.
> Isn't Ralishaz the god of bad luck?




Ralishaz is one of the ancient Suel Gods, rarely worshipped today.  After the Rain of Colorless Fire and Invoked Devastation, many blamed Ralishaz for part of the event (although the details of why they might do this are not currently remembered).  Worshipped mostly in the South and West, Ralishaz is known as the Unsought One, since it's assumed that he brings bad luck, and offerings are made to keep his attention away.  Ralishaz is considered to be fickle, and rewards longshots and gamblers, but is equally likely to reverse someone's fortune at a whim.

Ralishaz has been in the game for a long time.  His first appearance goes all the way back to A Well Earned Rest, Chapter 2, where we discovered his primary avatar was trapped beneath Castle Greyhawk, and was inadvertantly freed, as was a certain trickster god.

"_Valanthe entered the room but before she reached me, she too was drawn away. She found herself in a desert, a nomad in a turban walking nearby. He said he was the unsought one. (We later learned this is apparently one of the old Sule gods who is no longer worshipped.) He cautioned her to beware the Tripartate and any mortal who quests for it._ "

Valanthe did some research on Ralishaz in the ensuing months, and in act of desperation, called upon him during Heart of Nightfang Spire, Chapter 1.

_"Don’t ask me why, but I suddenly rembered the Unsought One, Ralishaz, God of Gamblers. What the hell, I thought, I might as well play with the best there is and roll the dice of fate.

All right, Ralishaz, I bet you can’t resist this. Give me a hand here and I’ll be owing you later.

I swore I heard a voice in the back of my head exclaim “You crazy, bitch!”"_

Ralishaz's debt, of course, was to have the PCs wake him up from an enforced slumber on the astral.  Their reward was Ruun Kaazai.  Of course, he had his reasons for doing that, too, and they weren't entirely altruistic.


----------



## WizarDru

As promised, here are some pictures from the previous session, for your enjoyment.


The week previous, Scorch came over and asked me to map out the Pyre of Pelor, tunnel and entrance, so that he could create it using Hirst Arts materials.  I modified the scale slightly, after his bemoand cries of "_*15 feet wide?* You're killing me, man, you're killing me!_"  



*Here's the actual battlefied, on the coffee table *​





_For those curious, those are D&D minis, which my son loves to play with, on the blue container in the foreground, lower right._

*Here's a close-up of the Pyre of Pelor area.*​


 
_It's not entirely distinct in this picture, but if you look to the right, you can see the altar made for this area.  Ironically, combat never made it more than 10' in this room. _


*The Battle BEGINS!*​







_To clear up any confusion about the layout here...we ran out of table.  We just moved the bad guys over and indicated that they were 'X' feet out from Bolo and Windsaber in the front there.  So in actuality, 'Them' was about fifteen feet directly in front of 'Us'...but that would have put them on the floor._

*Tactical Withdrawl!*​

 
_Here we see the group beginning it's retreat, making for the Pyre.  The bad guys expected this, but poor initiave rolls meant that they had to improvise (which proved to be a fateful decision).  Note Thorkeld in 'Time Out' over by the DM's coffee, and the shadow trio 'waiting in the wings' in the lower right.  That's Dravot and Zira in the center, Valanthe running along the ceiling and Kayleigh flying after them._

*Manthraxus HUNGERS!*​

 
_The trap, such as it was, is sprung.  Manthraxus, represented by the big black thing, erupts from the floor, about to grapple Scorch with little trouble (who will shortly become a grig and escape).  Note Seltan and Hevexia in the foreground, with her little deinonychus in front of her, and the skeletal horse and rider to represent Seltan's steed.  Truth be told, Seltan should have been ON the steed from the start, but I forgot until after he had appeared, and it didn't seem right to retcon that particular fact.  In retrospect, this may have modified the combat some, but c'est la vie._

*Poor, poor Seltan*​

 
_Forced back to the ground, Seltan goes against the only hated opponent available to him, Dravot.  Once he lost his mobility and his support, it was pretty much over.  That Sauron mini over on the left is actually Scorch in his Solar form._

*Tastes Great, Less Filling*​

 
_Now, the thing to remember about this picture is that all three mini who are currently on the base are actually IN the 100th Horror's belly.  Team Shadow stands nearby, draining as much Strength as humanly possible off of the horror (and it adds up, fast).  Off-camera is Manthraxus, still doing double-duty as a threat for the party in the corridor and protecting the 100th Horror from incoming missle fire....but not for very long._


----------



## Zad

*Undying - Chapter 7*

*Undying – Chapter 7*

*OOC Notes:*
Exp is 5800 for 22nd, 4200 for 23rd.

*Loot:*
40,000gp in assorted undigested paraphernalia
+4 heavy steel shield

*This Week’s Adventure:*
Ralishaz paused to look over the perfectly still water. As he stared off, his form seemed to waver somehow – he would appear slightly blurry then suddenly snap back into focus. “I’m glad you could come. We’ll have more guests in a few minutes but we can begin our discussion now.”

Scorch opened with what I believe he thought was small talk. “So is this… _thing_ with Venn permanent?”

Ralishaz was as calm as the water and said “I proposed an arrangement to Venn, and he accepted.” The answer went on a bit longer but the net result was “yes”. 

“So who else are we expecting?” I asked, curious at which forces Ralishaz would bring together. 

“Meltorannan, and a few others,” he replied. Meltorannan was a solar in service to Pelor that we had encountered once before. “The other deities and their limited rules of engagement have brought us to this situation.” As he finished the sentence, a planetar and a demon streaked from the sky and smashed into the water a few hundred yards away. I tried to follow them, but it was becoming more difficult. For every battle I could see, there were ten more happening in the ethereal, and the winking in and out was starting to make me light-headed.

“We are at the end of the culmination of a long and precise plan put into effect by Fraz. He is attempting to… well it’s hard to explain the mechanics… he is utilizing the far realms to channel a great deal of energy in a complicated scheme to make himself a deity.”

“His plan was to try to oust a few deities and take power that way, becoming one of the few deities native to the Prime. After all, how many Prime-based deities are there? Iuz, Vecna… and they are truly more demi-gods than fully divine beings. The Prime has very few beings of such power, and once he was one of them, the other gods would have great difficulty dealing with him.”

“And he was using the Lich Queen to traffic souls for him?” Aethramyr asked.

“Vlaakith was just as much a pawn of Fraz as anyone else. When she was no longer useful, he arranged for you to destroy her, cleaning up his tracks for him.”

Ralishaz reflected before continuing, trying to find the proper words. “There are agreements in place among existing deities you see. How do I explain this in terms you will understand… Oh and for your reference, I am now the most powerful deity on the Prime. We function as deities at a higher level than you do. We cannot make fine adjustments, only gross actions. Were a deity to come to the Prime – one who is not native to it I mean – he would enact great general changes, but like a giant trying to pull the wings from a fly, he would do as much damage as good since he cannot focus his actions very closely.”

“Fraz is attempting to become a Prime-based deity. I’m uncertain what portfolio he is trying to subsume – there are several candidates. The vacancies are there, he simply needs the raw power to do it. The souls he has been stealing are commerce used to bargain for that power. Fraz is playing a delicate yet precise game. He has opened holes from the far realms into the Prime. Or at least he had, until it was stopped.”

For the first time, Ralishaz showed a hint of a smile.

“So you were responsible for the interdiction?” Scorch asked.

I jumped in. “Well, which one? I’m confused but there several actions by different forces weren’t there? The original interdiction inhibited travel, but then there’s the current one preventing souls from being drawn away.”

Ralishaz paitently explained. “The first interdiction was the work of Fraz, but of course not him directly. He never works directly. But I am the one preventing the souls from being drained to the far realms. I cannot hold the shield forever, but it would be consuming enormous amounts of Fraz’ effort to open these holes, and I am hoping that I can outlast him.”

I was still feeling fairly confused about what was going on, particularly regarding some of the incidental happenings, but before I could start a series of questions I heard the flapping of wings announcing the arrival of a celestial.

Chance, one of Ralishaz’ avatars, stepped from behind her lord and called up to the solar “Have you come to discuss an agreement with My Lord?”

Meltorannan plummeted from the sky, then stopped his descent with one beat of his wings and landed lightly. “I have come to discuss it, if the offer still stands as we discussed.”

Chance answered back “My Lord is busy at the moment talking to these people but when he is done he will be glad to attend you.”

Ralishaz laughed ever so slightly and called out “Chance, you can let him come through. We can discuss these topics openly.”

As Meltorannan came forward he placed a hand gently on Dravot’s shoulder and said quietly “Fear not. We keep Brindinford safe for you.”

Dravot, who I then realized had been a cauldron on the verge of boiling over, spat back “And I was to be told of this when?”

If Meltorannan was fazed by this, he did not let on. “You were to be told when this is completed.”

It was then that Dravot noticed that Meltorannan bore no symbol of Pelor anywhere on him. Before he could ask, Meltorannan addressed Ralishaz. “Aylwyn is coming – I can still feel him. No doubt he will attempt to discuss this, but I’m sure he means no harm to us. He should be here momentarily – he refuses to use the ability to transport himself, presumably in observance of some limit you have placed?”

Chance was still hovering nearby. “You presume much, solar.”

Meltorannan looked at her casually. “I can presume what I will, lackey.”

Dravot decided to interrupt. “Would you mind explaining the lack of symbols of Our Lord?”

Meltorannan looked sad, and perhaps even somewhat embarrassed. “In due time, friend. In due time.”

I turned back to Ralishaz, still wondering why we had open war on the Prime. “So why the invasion of fiends and celestials?”

“Fraz’ plan was complicated, and you made it more complicated. He tried to slay you, and in the same thrust release a primal and make a further distraction for the dragons and others. In addition, he arranged for Orcus and Graz’zt to invade. This led to the rebellion among some of the celestials.”

Dravot shot a look at Meltorannan as Ralishaz continued. “The pillars of light are a stopgap measure. Creating this barrier is taking all my reserves. I am not completely solidified yet here. When you brought me to the prime many months ago, it took me some time to gather my corporeal form and energy. I must apologies for my departure causing cracks to the underdark but I assumed Meepo could handle it.”

Aethramyr stopped him. “Wait. You mean your entire body came here with the rest of Ru’un Khazai?”

Ralishaz nodded. “I transported my entire being here. Oh, that reminds me.” He directed his comments at Scorch. “I have reclaimed the eye of the dead god. It is part of the reason I am able to accomplish some of the tasks you now see.”

“Oh,” Scorch said disappointedly. “So much for the spell pool.” Scorch had been trying hard to re-establish the spell pool of the Grey Guild for some time, but time and circumstance had worked hard to prevent it. Then Scorch clutched at his chest at a small pendant, and fell to his knees. He felt some kind of burning sensation of unbelievable intensity, and then it passed.

Ralishaz looked calmly at Scorch while he recovered his wits. “I didn’t say we couldn’t share it. But this time it stays under my control. We don’t want that mess happening again.”

“In any case,” the sule god went on “the barrier is being heavily assaulted. The pillars of light are a place to shed all the extra energy being poured into the barrier. I am also using it to protect the earth primal’s prison, but that will not hold and the prison will be under assault soon enough.”

I was overwhelmed. There was just too much to take in all at once, and I couldn’t find a stable center of the storm to calm myself. I looked at Ralishaz with pleading eyes and asked “So how long until the world ends?”

A new voice announced itself behind me. “This world will not end soon while we are here.” Aylwyn had finally arrived. I may have been confused but I was still angry at the hosts, and here was finally one of them to answer for their lack of action.

“Oh?” I asked. “Well that’s a relief given how well your actions have prevented us from getting here in the first place!”

Aylwyn wasn’t in the mood to be chastised, not that I cared. “Oh, considering how your Lord has protected Celene to this point I would think you would be more grateful. Or does His every move need to be registered and approved by you? You’ll pardon me if I’m a tad irate – apparently some of us have forgotten our vows.” With that he glared at Meltorannan.

Bolo tried to step in. “Kayleigh speaks out of fear. We do not have the information you do. We are mortals and rely on faith, and her faith is lacking. Thank you for all you have done so far.”

To myself, I just repated over and over “He can’t help it he’s an idiot.” But at least it puzzled Aylwyn for a moment and he stopped ranting. 

Aylwyn turned to Dravot and his head sagged. “I apologize. I did not think it would come to this point.”

Dravot was not interested in apologies. “Where. Is. Brindinford?”

Meltorannan answered “Brindinford has been moved to a demi-plane of its own making. If we left it where it was, sooner or later Orcus and his forces would have destroyed it and everyone there. We also knew that some beings” he glared hard at Aylwyn “were willing to let that happen. We chose to violate our vows to protect the people on the Prime. Too long has evil been allowed free reign. Too long has chaos been allowed. We decided among those that follow me that the Prime needs more direct intervention. It was at this point that Ralishaz made us an offer. An offer that I, speaking for the rebels, have chosen to agree to.”

Aylwyn just shook his head while Meltorannan went on. “The Prime has suffered too long at the intervention of outsiders, elementals, and beings from off-plane. Thus we have agreed to take on the title of Judges. From this point on, those who serve under me and have sworn to my cause now swear allegiance to Ralishaz. We will lend him support and endeavor to enforce stricter order on the Prime.” As Meltorannan spoke his skin began fading from alabaster white to a more ashen grey. 

I still didn’t fully understand this shift in loyalty, but the battle between fiend and celestial was still a stalemate. I asked “Are you and your bretheren in a position to repel the forces of Orcus and Graz’zt?”

Ralishaz had only a hint of satisfaction when he answered “They are now.” As he said this, the solar continued to change. His wings became gull grey, and his sword faded into wisps of ether and smoke, and then reformed into a long staff. Meltorannan was now fully a servant of Ralishaz.

Dravot was furious. “So we’ve avoided Fraz and Orcus but now you will be masters of the Prime? How is this any better?”

Meltorannan looked almost hurt. “No. We are trying to prevent this from happening again.”

In the skies above, and throughout the ethereal, the Judges joined into the battle. As each staff struck a fiend, there was a flash and the fiend was banished back to the Abyss. Slowly at first, but with increasing speed, the tide turned, and the fiends were turned back.

Unable to keep my feet any longer, I plopped onto a large rock. I wanted to understand but didn’t know where to begin. “So is Orcus’ attack turned back?”

Ralishaz gestured absently for a moment and then said “You have to understand something. Orcus is, in my opinion, dumb as a post. Sure he’s a demon prince and all. But Orcus has the mistaken belief that he can extend his rule on the Prime. And while he expects many things, he doesn’t begin to realize how devious Fraz is. This is because he actually thinks he is smarter than Fraz.”

“But if you can cleanse the Prime of this mess…” I started.

“Not entirely but I can enforce certain rules. My portfolio has changed somewhat However Rauxes is not technically part of the Prime right now so that complicates things where Rauxes is concerned and by extension Orcus.”

I looked at Ralishaz with what is, I’m sure, the same look one would get from a cow after attempting to explain divination magic to it.

“Orcus is smart enough to know how to skirt by some of the rules I can enforce,” Ralishaz went on. “I can enforce the rules, but that’s not the same as keeping them from being broken. I can make it more difficult, but a being of sufficient power such as Orcus – particularly Orcus who can take the unliving and enhance them – will be more difficult to handle. Orcus violates the rules but he is now entrenched and therefore it is harder to enforce them on him.”

Dravot was irate – he saw this as merely trading one evil tyrant for another. He asked icily “And what do you get out of this?”

Ralishaz’ calmness washed away for a moment and let through what I suspect was something more typical of Venn. “What have I gotten? Did I mention that I’m now the most powerful being on the Prime?!?”

Dravot was unsatisfied. “I’m still not seeing a difference between one tyrant or another.”

“I did not instigate the rebellion, I simply offered an option to mitigate it.”

Bolo asked “So what did instigate it?”

Ralishaz waved at us. “You discussed it yourselves. Where are the deities? Why aren’t they doing anything? You were not alone in these questions and indeed some of the very celestial host itself asked them as well. Why aren’t we _doing_ something about this?”

Ralishaz wandered slightly. “You should know that Rauxes itself is a direct result of Pelor’s last incursion onto the Prime. Rules are rules after all. If one is allowed excess, then by compact and association another deity is allowed further sway for a time. And of course some are more subtle than others. Your Sehanine manages to function on the Prime more effectively than others because she works through agents which she contacts through an entirely separate realm. And her husband is perhaps the most subtle of all.”

There was something there. Something in that statement was for me. I wish I had asked more. But the conversation was wandering across a dozen topics and it was difficult to keep a clear head. Instead I went another route. “So your forces have removed the demons, but that still leaves the undead, and whomever you said was about to assault the earth primal, and of course the fact that Fraz is still drawing out souls.”

“Fraz, unlike Orcus, is not stupid. He knew sooner or later he’d get direct intervention of some sort. The Prime has been invaded far too many times in the last six months. Fraz has collected a great deal of power, and he has given a large measure of that power to Orcus, but Orcus spends it foolishly. In any case, Fraz will be spending power holding open the portals to the far realms, and this is taxing. He cannot keep it up for very long.”

I was starting to sense the entire point of drawing us here. “And so who is attacking the primal?”

“Oh, they’re probably from Orcus. There’s an undersea monstrosity down there moving towards the prison. With it are two outsiders too powerful for the Judges to turn away. They should reach the prison in ten or fifteen minutes. I could say more but they have been partially protected, and I am stretched somewhat thin.”

The catch at last – the reason we were brought here: to defend the prison. “Why us?”

Ralishaz was frank. “Only a handful of beings are capable of defending the earth primal. Of those, only you would I even consider asking. Only you have shown a concern for preserving the Prime. While I may share a certain… outlook with the Circle of Eight, they are impotent fools. They’re more concerned with maintaining their petty games than maintaining the state of the Prime in general. Their subtle manipulation even of you show that they are more worried about a balance of power than they are the nature of the Prime itself. If they will not show concern, then I will assume that role. I could compel you I suppose, but I would not even if I were not so strained. If you cannot do it freely than I do not know what it would benefit to compel you.”

“But what would be the point really?” I asked. “Even if we defeat this attack now, what good does it do? They would just attack again.”

“You underestimate how costly this has been for Orcus and Fraz. If you succeed, it will not be a final victory, but it will buy you many months of time to regroup and plan.”

I just nodded at that. I didn’t think there was much question we would act, and apparently neither did Ralishaz. He continued on. “I perceive two threats. How you deal with them I cannot advise. The primary threat is the one to the prison located under the Nyr Dyv. But the second threat is merely a distraction – whether you engage it or not is your choice. Coming through the forest is a Gulthias Horror of some power making its way to Dyvers. Presumably it’s coming to create general havoc to distract any defenders.”

We started discussing the particulars, but Dravot was not interested. He instead turned to Aylwyn. There was no question on his face, just disappointment. 

Aylwyn said “If it’s any consolation to you, I know little more than you do. But I do have faith. I know the longer goals will bear their fruit. If it was an easy path to walk, you would not have been chosen. Though I do not agree with the doing of it, Brindinford was moved to protect you.”

“And why could I not be told of this? Have I done so little that I am not worthy of knowing this? Thorkeld arrived to find everyone he’d ever known and cared about was gone, and probably dead. Does his faith mean so little that he should suffer so?” Dravot’s anger flashed in his eyes, but the solar did not wince.

“Telling you would have jeapordized Brindinford’s safety. Had Thorkeld known ahead of time, your enemies would have had more time to find it’s hiding place.”

Still unsatisfied Dravot asked “And what about after the fact? We could not be told then?”

Aylwyn tried to suppress a bitter smile. “That would be in about five minutes, Saint. We are still finishing up.”

“So what of this threat in the lake? Should I help? Or should I follow the lead of my god and stand idly by?”

Aylwyn was showing great patience. “I said you would be tested. This is your test of faith. You must decide.”

Dravot pondered this for a few silent moments, and finally he nodded that he would go. I personally had no doubt. A war of the gods is a difficult matter and feels impossible to deal with. But a threatening sea monster is another matter entirely and I knew he would not sit by while he could act. Then I stepped in. “I’m sorry to intrude but we have some fundamental problems as well. Namely that we cannot breath or fight effectively underwater.”

Aylwyn looked quietly at me with a small smile. “If Dravot wishes to go, then I shall make it possible.” He invoked his divine mandate, and we were all able to breathe and move underwater. The gesture cost him severely however – his cheeks were sunken and he was battered and bruised, the scars of his recent battle weighting on him more heavily. Dravot cast a small blessing on him to ease his discomfort and Aylwyn seemed to genuninely appreciate the gesture more than the blessing itself. 

“Well that only leaves us one more problem,” I said. “Our time is short and we must quickly reach the middle of the lake. And if my memory serves, we lack enough teleportation magic to do the job.”

Scorch had been pondering his crystal for some time. “I think I can help with that now. I think I have this figured out. It’s very different from before, but still…”

The plan was set. Scorch had discerned enough to utilize the spell pool and we could teleport out. We had one too many to all teleport to the temple below the lake, so Windsaber would go stall the Gulthias Horror while we fought off the monster. Windsaber bounded off and we were quickly teleported to the middle of the great inland sea.

The shafts of glowing light penetrated the water, and the closer the water was to the barrier, the less it moved. At the very end, everything just stopped – the water, the fish, everything. We descended into the depths of the water and passed all manner of fish, none of which were moving at all.

In with the fish were some creatures called reekmurks. They were some kind of native to the plane of shadow, and could be dangerous if they swarm. To see more than one would be unusual at best – in these numbers it was obviously no chance. Dravot called a great light from his mace, and as we descended the burning light of Pelor caused the creatures to shrivel and die just from the bright light.

As we reached the bottom, we started to make out spires rising from the seabed piercing the radiance of Pelor descending with us. The stone seemed natural enough, but there was no coral or fungus growing on it. The broken architecture looked reminiscent of Ekbir in design. Then we realized the stone wasn’t natural at all – the ruins were all made from isometril.

At the bottom, there were several structures half buried in the sand. But one building was out of place with the others. It was fairly ornate, and clearly not Sule in design. It appeared to be from a much later time, and was covered in carvings used by grey elves. Our best guess is that it was only built some 2000 years ago, which made it an infant compared to the other structures. The carvings seemed to indicate some kind of contract but it was not related to the primal – it would have been far too recently built for that.

The carvings indicated that the builders knew of the primal, and used its presence to hide their prize as well. Then we found another carving near the door – the upper body of a being surrounded by three rings. 

The small temple held a binder.

Suddenly the barrier faded, and fish and plants began moving once again. The fish suddenly scattered as if pursued and we knew the beast must be very close – Bolo guessed it was only a few hundred feet away now. We made our last preparations just as long tentacles began touching the edge of the illumination. Then with a sudden push, a giant red eye appeard and a massive kraken tasted the water, wondering what these strange creatures were, and how we would taste.

On either side of the kraken were two twisted monstrosities that could have only come from the far realms. Their anatomy made no sense with long serpentine bodies and mouths in improbable places. Surrounding these twisted things were some small dog-like demons – skulvens. 

A giant sea monster the size of a village square, two twisted demons from the far realms, and their hunting packs; well, at least something in this day was typical for us.

Valanthe sliced open one of the skulven with a single stroke, and they proved to be weak creatures. Scorch decided that this creature would need to be weakened before it would be more manageable, and drained away some of the creature’s strength. But then the kraken lashed out in a flurry of tentacles flailing at everyone from an insanely long way away. Everyone was injured, but Bolo (who was in the form of a kraken himself, albeit a much smaller one by comparison) was nearly ripped in half by the assault. If it hadn’t been for the divine luck bestowed by Ralishaz’ avatar Cheat, he may very well have been killed on the spot.

Bolo spoke a Holy Word, and while it was not strong enough to dismiss the worms it was more than able to banish the skulven. Then with a brief look at each other, Aethramyr and I charged the kraken. 

A creature the size of a house, and I charged it. It was depressing but necessary – arrows would not fly far underwater. To do any good at all, I would have to be very close to the kraken, and given how large it was, it was going to take everything Aethramyr and I had to defeat it.

Valanthe came in from behind the kraken and we started what I was sure would be the long process of destroying this beast. Valanthe, Aethramyr and I attacked mercilessly with everything we had. Scorch further weakened the creature – I’m sure such a massive beast could not grasp how it had become so tired. The kraken was flailing in pain but still fighting and snapped all its tentacles at Aethramyr. But it had been so weakened that its assault was far less potent than it should have been and Aethramyr absorbed the punishment and continued to attack. Dravot invoked Pelor’s name and our wounds were all healed, and we renewed our attack. Finally Valanthe drove Shadowcut deep into an already open wound as large as she was. The blade struck hard, and the kraken stiffened for a moment, then began sinking limply to the lake bed.

Meanwhile, Dravot and the paladins were holding off the worms. As Zira slashed at one of them, their ichor spewed into the water and made Bolo and Zira wretch violently. Scorch was able to _banish_ one of the snakes, and the other was being slowly hacked apart by Dravot and the paladins. Bolo put his own tentacles into play and finally ripped the creature apart, and with that the earth primal was safe.

Now able to take more time, we set about reading the full set of inscriptions on the temple. It seemed to state that whomever had done this believed the location of two of the binders had been compromised, and had moved them. Valanthe was able to open the temple door, and we went down the hallway to the single room within. 

Inside, the binder waited, its rings pulsing through the water. We were wondering which binder it was, when it made the answer plain. In a rolling wave, all the magic surrounding us dissipated. Bolo immediately reverted to his elven form. Of course this meant that none of us could breathe any longer. However the binder accounted for this too, and the water in the area was transmuted into air, and we stood before the trapped prince.

There was still the Gulthias horror attacking Dyvers to be considered, so I was brief. “Prince Tupal ben Baharol, greetings. Let’s get you out of here, and then we’ll get _you_ out of _that_.”

We heard the Prince in our mind. He was stuffy and formal. “Very well, then by contract you must take control of the binder and I shall obey.”

All eyes turned to Scorch who was managing to keep his lust in check, at least for now. I shrugged and attempted to take control of the binder, but despite a good try it did not yield to my control. We looked to Dravot who had the strongest will of us, and he was able to force the binder to obey.

Thwarted an assassination, stopped a giant sea monster, talked to a new diety, and rescued a binder. I hope we can stop for dinner soon.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

The binder was rescued and they stood in the chamber where it had lain for centuries. Bolo felt light headed. He has clearly died but just before his soul left his body the power of Ralishaz flowed through him and he could see time and chance flow backward. The claw of the Infernal Kraken instead missed his eye and did not pierce his brain. Then being forced out of his kraken form by the magics of the binder it was all so overwhelming.
He stood in his “Elven” form in front of the binder and as Dravot picked it up Bolo swooned. He glowed with the soft light of a new day dawning and when he realized Thorkeld was holding him up, he looked around at the other’s faces. “What happened?” He asked. Then he felt the magic. 

Bolo had become somehow enchanted when he was last reincarnated. He knew this. He had come back as a Centaur but the fluxuations in the cosmology created by their destroying the Shadow taker had caused him to revert back to his Elven form. He had felt the changes soon after. He was transforming slowly into a Fae creature. Something unique it would seem, and now the transformation was complete. 
He stood slightly smaller than he had been a few moments ago and thinner closer to his original Halfling size but not quite so small. He took out a mirror and saw that his ears had changed shape they were now swept far back with the points more horizontal the pointing up like an elves ears. His hair and skin had a slightly glittery look like he had been dusted with fine flecks of silver and gold. His eyes were now golden and pupil less seeming to be the color of the sun at dawn. He stood and brushed himself off. The day could only get better from here on out.


----------



## Zad

Details about the fight:

Setup: For them, there was the kraken, the snakey-things (they had a name but I didn't record it) and the skulven. They skulven were a non-issue. On our side you had the six PC's and two NPC paladins on team sun, plus some NPC shadows on team shadow that got into the mix late.

Environment: It was underwater. This was bad for us. We had water breathing and freedom of movement put on us so that took care of most of the problems except for the archer. Water means -2 to hit per five feet of water.


The kraken and his posse came up, and we were by then mostly buffed and ready. We had enough time to get up all the round-per-level buffs we might have wanted. The kraken started doing whirlwind attacks from a long way away. Destroyed my mirror images, and smacked people around generally. He did this for a couple rounds.

Meanwhile Aethramyr and I charged him. I had to be right next to him to keep my hit chances (as well as versimilitude) up. We just started pounding him as hard as we could - smite evils, power attacks, etc. I was dumping spare spells into my shots to up my damage. Valanthe swung in behind and started gutting him too.

Scorch decided to break out a new trick that he preped based on my suggestion a few sessions earlier. Ray of enfeeblement combined with things like waves  of exhaustion and Valanthe's sneak attacks started really taking a toll on his strength. It shaved down his hit chance and his damage pretty substantially. WoE is 6 str, and I think Scorch maximized his ray so that was another 11 maybe, plus Valanthe knocking off a couple. Around the third round or so, Aethramyr had done some fierce damage and the kraken concentrated his attacks on him. I was bracing for a lot of pain, but the strength drain meant he only took 84 damage, which was managable. Dravot dropped a mass heal in our direction and we carried on.

Interesting tidbit: Freedom of Movement means you automatically succeed at all grapple checks. So when the squid tried to grab Aethramyr, it didn't work flat out. 

Eventually we just beat it into submission. I think it was four or five rounds.

On the other side of the battle, Dravot and Team Sun was making a stand against the worms. Bolo was there too but he got nauseated early and lost a few rounds that way. Mostly it was a holding action but Team Sun dished out a good bit of abuse on one of the snakeys. Scorch banished the other snakey and things tipped in our favor. 

Overall Scorch didn't throw a single direct-damage spell which is unusual, but at the same time made maximum use of his capabilities in ways that didn't just do hit-point damage.

So to characterize the battle, it was an enormously high hit point monster that had to be fought in bad conditions that hampered one of our stronger damage dealers. The good news is that we adapted and got it done.


----------



## dravot

wolff96 said:
			
		

> Thanks for the update. I appreciate you guys satisfying my curiousity.
> 
> The Freedom of Movement saved you guys a LOT of pain. That +96 grapple check is relatively difficult to overcome.   Then again, with enough strength drains...



 +96?  Great Ceasar's Ghost!!!

 Actually, it was quite fun.  We made sure to keep mum about the _Freedom of Movement_ vs. grapple rule until WizarDru sprung it on us.


----------



## WizarDru

pogre said:
			
		

> I would love to see these! I am running the City of Barakas right now, and oddly enough I just finished up some more sewer pieces .
> 
> You may remember my older sewer tiles:
> view one
> view two
> 
> I did the new ones in a similar fashion.



Valanthe did a bunch of pictures of the Meepite's minis this past weekend, but has some more to do before she puts up a retrospective.  She also did a sewer piece from a piece Scorch created.  Scorch did a couple himself, but they're looking at different approaches (Scorch painted the sewer base before the resin, so Val tried something other than what she had originally planned.











These pictures were taken before some exacto/dremel work was done on the piece.  I'll let Val go into details, although she probably won't be able to comment until the evening.


----------



## Valanthe the Sleepless

*minis*

Hi,

Because you asked for it Pogre , I thought I'd start posting pics of the minis of the Meepites. These are wonderfully painted by Zad and Scorch. 

The first is Kayleigh, painted by her player, Zad. Ain't she a beaut!








Next up is the current Scorch (v3.0), painted by his player, Scorch.







Scorch (v2.0), painted by Scorch.







Scorch (v1.0), painted by Scorch.







And here is Valanthe (v2.0) with Shadowcut, painted by Scorch.












and Val's shadow companions, Berlden, Verilunda, and Little Shade (painted by me).







Hopefully, I'll get to photo the other charactrers mini's (Aethramyr and Cresent, Dravot and cohorts, and Bolo) post them here in the next week.


----------



## dravot

First we're working on the epic sequel to 'Orc and Pie', tentatively titled 'Orcus and Pie'.


----------



## Scorch

*Hirst Arts pictures*

As requested on this thread, here is a link to a thread on the Arts and Minis forum with links to pictures of my Hirst Arts modular dungeon pieces:

http://enworld.cyberstreet.com/showthread.php?t=80269

Enjoy,

Scorch


----------



## Zad

*Undying - Chapter 8*

*Undying – Chapter 8*

*OOC Notes:*
Exp is 3,100 for 22nd level characters, 2765 for 23rd.

*This Week’s Adventure:*
We rapidly rose through the water and headed towards Dyvers. On the way, I began sorting through my admittedly limited arcane training trying to think of every transmutation spell I could. We were getting low on transportation magic, but a wind walk spell provided by the binder let us move to Dyvers fast enough to at least have a hope of helping Windsaber repel whatever Gulthias Horror had been sent to distract us.

We covered the distance quickly, and yet agonizingly slowly at the same time. At first it seemed as though there was a fog near town, but then the horrible truth became apparent. It was a swarm of small insects. Thousands of small bugs the size of a finger were consuming flesh and vegetation alike outside the town wall. Windsaber was there doing his best to distract them but there was nothing he could do against such an enemy.

And he wasn’t alone. Aethramyr, Valanthe and I were at a loss for any way to repel this invasion. We stood and watched while Scorch and Bolo took the shape of gold dragons. Dravot joined them with the power of the binder, and the three of them moved towards town releasing cones of fire at the swarming bugs.

The fire outraged the swarm and they began moving towards the dragons. Fortunately they were extremely slow, and the dragons were able to keep ahead of the swarm for the most part and still keep breathing fire. The fire was not having nearly enough effect however and we began searching for more options. Sonic meteors, blade barriers and other spells all bit into the swarm, but again their effect was blunted. The trio even tried some different draconic forms to try other breath weapons. Suddenly a part of the swarm popped out and reappeared around Scorch and began biting at him. 

With the swarm among them, Bolo tried a new form and became a noble salamander, but the blazing skin was not a deterrent to the vicious insects. Bolo then…

Well he…

That is to say…

He did something very Bolo-ish.

He summoned a fire elemental. This, in itself, seemed fairly logical – being only energy, the bugs could not harm it. But Bolo soon realized what I knew immediately – fire elementals cannot fly. And hovering some fifty feet up, the fire elemental was placed in a rather untenable position for one of its kind.

Lacking any other options, it did the only thing it could do. It fell.

It fell through the swarm, burning some insects as it went. It hit the lake and there was a vast billowing cloud of steam. I was sure that Bolo had executed another helpless elemental, but I was quite wrong. They were only barely over the water, and the elemental simply waded a few steps to shore and continued to engulf as many insects as it could. 

Dravot must have been having a conversation with the binder and with a nod of his draconic head, a spell washed out. The swarm was blasted away from him forty feet in all directions. The creatures were not harmed per se, but they were seriously disrupted and scattered widely. Given the speed at which they moved, it took them some time to re-orient and establish the group, during which time fiery breath washed over them repeatedly. The swarm never quite managed to re-assemble as the breath weapons finally burned them away.

As we rejoined Dravot, Scorch and Bolo I asked Dravot “What was that?”

He just smiled. “Repel Wood.”

I scanned the skies to see if the battle between heavens and hells still raged. I could see several devas and solars in the ethereal observing, but the battle seemed to have degraded to a stand off and there was no open fighting. The Judges were still changing in their new aspect but they were clearly holding the line and seemed to have about the same numbers as the celestial host. With nothing further to worry about there, we returned to the lake shore where we had left Ralishaz.

We could see the waters of the lake growing calmer before we could actually see Ralishaz and his party. Aylwyn and Meltorannan was still there as were his Avatars. Ralishaz did not seem to note our presence but the avatars nodded. Meltorannan was even more changed. His armor was gone, replaced witih a grey toga with a hood down around his neck. His wings were smaller and now completely grey. His face was becoming more expressionless, moving toward being a mask. 

Chance said “You’ve done well. I’m pleased to see your success, as is my Lord.” Gamble just quietly watched us while Cheat expressed active disinterest.

Ralishaz turned his head ever so slightly over his shoulder. “You have disconcerted your demonic foe I am certain. I would ask you if things went well but I know that they did. You are I see relatively unharmed. I would suspect that for the most part Orcus should be inconvenienced for some time. As should Fraz, but I am also of the mind that we have not completely untangled everything.”

I shrugged. “If we have prevented all out war, then that is no small victory.”

Ralishaz cocked his head and said to no one in particular. “I shall grant it, for I am intrigued. You have ten minutes.” Then to us “Someone wishes an audience with you. Dravot if you could please hood the lantern.”

We exchanged wary looks among ourselves. “Who?”

“Rhyxali.”

At the name, Aylwyn’s face took on a sour look. Rhyxali is a demon princess. If she wanted to talk to us, I had a hard time believing it would be for any good reason.

Dravot acquiesced, though hesitantly. A shadow appeared on the ground, and it deepened and then rose to take three dimensions. The shadow rose up forming into the shape of a thin winged demon. It looked around, then took its hands and pulled it’s mouth open wide and began vomiting black bile on the ground. It continued disgorging the substance for some time and it slowly took shape growing taller until it was nine feet high. It ultimately shaped itself to a vaguely feminine form, completely black until a pair of white rings formed the outline of eyes.

A bit over-much of an entrance really.

_I am known as Rhyxali. It has come to my attention that you are… lost in the darkness. Something of which I have much knowledge._

Dravot was miffed at that. “Excuse me?”

_Even you shining one have need of knowledge. I am well versed in providing such things._

Valanthe asked “What knowledge have you come to sell?”

_What knowledge would you enjoy? Fraz’ intentions? The true nature of the blood war? Why the dark god went mad? I can share all these things and more._

Valanthe was far from tempted. “And what do you get out of all this?”

_I am a broker of information. Interested types, such as Scorch, consult me or my minions on a routine basis._

I was having a hard time figuring out which of our group was more cynical about this offer. I asked “So what is the price?”

_Well, souls are the standard commerce in such things, but I understand creatures such as you are squeamish. Nor would I ask for the binder, fear not. But perhaps a mutual problem… I can remove the problem at Ruun’Khazai._

I smiled inwardly for a few moments, but the truth is I no longer cared what happened at Ruun’Khazai. And if the problem was to be removed, I would take care of it myself. But in the conversation that followed, Rhyxali continued to be extremely evasive about the question of price. Repeatedly she was asked, and each time she failed to provide a direct answer.

_What if I were to reveal the location of several devils still on the Prime. They are too powerful for the new protector to deal with yet and far beyond his Judges to dismiss. Perhaps I could share this information with you._

Aethramyr was growing tired of the evasion. “What’s this ‘perhaps’ nonsense? What’s. Your. Price.”

_It is possible that we could work out an arrangement…_

Not the answer Aethramyr wanted. “Dravot, where’s your lantern?”

Dravot started smiling and holding it up and Rhyxali tried to re-assert control of the situation.

_There are three powerful devils on the prime. If you were to remove them, it would be a boon for yourselves, for Ralishaz, and yes, also to me. In return for this, I will give you some information that you would find valuable._

We debated a bit about this proposal. The offer was certainly only designed to benefit her – any gain on our part was incidental. There were of course the ethical issues to be considered. But it did have the benefit of being some kind of trouble we could cause for Fraz, and it would be a new source of information for us. Rhyxali was insistent that we accept the contract, and at the same time was equally evasive about what would be required and what the reward would be. She was in a mood to negotiate and to be extremely subtle. We, on the other hand, were in no mood for it at all, and ranged from blunt and direct to downright hostile. 

_You must accept the terms of the contract. If I divulge more, you will be implicitly accepting the terms._

“In that case I think there’s something else you should consider,” I said to her.

_And what would that be?_

“Your ten minutes are up.”

We turned to Ralishaz, who was still staring over the water. But he held up one hand and was ticking off fingers. 3… 2… 1….

Rhyxali silently dissolved back into the pool of shadow. If we were to pursue this relationship, it would have to be later and after we knew better as a group where we stood.

No sooner was the audience done than it was apparently time for another one to begin. But this one was not with us, though we were allowed to witness it.

It started when Scorch’s soul was casually torn out of his body and flung into a small rock. I don’t think it was intended to land in the rock as such. Merely that it was thrown aside and the rock just happened to be in the way. There was no physical change, other than his body began glowing with an eldritch power as Boccob settled in to the temporary receptacle while a small rock rolled angrily around his ankles. 

Then the shadow demon, still lingering absently after being used for Rhyxali’s arrival, shifted. It reformed itself into a tall willowy woman in black robes, and Wee Jas stepped up to Ralishaz.

Last to arrive was Pelor, who shifted the aspect of Aylwyn becoming and older, kind man with a long beard.

Dravot and Aethramyr offered their respects to Pelor, who put a gentle hand on their shoulder and lifted them up. As he did, they seemed to shine. At Pelor’s touch, their wounds healed, and even their clothes looked clean and new. When Pelor spoke, I heard him in elven but this was surely unique to each listener.

For myself, I was too much in shock to know quite what to do.

We have received your emissaries Ralishaz, and I come to speak for those of my mindset. Those who seek only to improve things.

Wee Jas was cold but not entirely disinterested. We all seek to improve things in our own way. However we have also received said emissaries and I am allowed to speak for quite a few beings, some of whom I find distasteful but as long as I am in this position I shall maintain it.

Boccob on the other hand seemed bored. Yes, yes, terribly tiresome. Can we dispense with this? We have all agreed to the new rules have we not?

Pelor looked very patient. I have been commissioned to speak for others. While we do not prefer the exact nature of the arrangement, we are certainly willing to allow it.

Yes I knew what your answer was. What about you bitch?

Wee Jas showed no sign of offense. You know you’re still as much to blame for it as I am.

Oh haven’t we gotten OVER this yet? It’s been TWO MILLENIA woman!

Nevertheless, I have spoken to the less savory elements. They are more than willing, perhaps _too_ willing to agree to this enforcement measure of yours. Provided that the prime is unsealed, and that equal access is given, your little wildling enforcement is approved of. We will not get in the way.

While it did not sit well with any of us – in fact it pains me – if equal access is given, I suppose greater harm would come if we do not agree. Therefore the deities that see the right of things are willing to capitulate to some degree. _Some degree_. Eventually we will fill up the world with so much good you will drown in it.

Ok fine. I already said yes. So the consensus is yes? We go ahead with this?

Ralishaz said quietly “Agreement has been reached. I will enforce this through my Judges and myself. I disassociate myself from direct worship and I assume the mantle. I will become the deity of the Prime and I will enforce certain rules to insure this never occurs again. And I will be strict.” At that, he gave a slightly different look to each of the three representatives.

Pelor turned to Dravot and the rest of us. You should avert your eyes.

Needing no further prompting we all did so. I could feel massive waves of pure power flowing from Ralishaz’ direction. There were thousands of sounds, strange feelings from the comfortable to the oppressive. The ground and air itself changed somehow, and my eyes began watering. Finally the sound stopped and the air stilled.

Scorch was back in his own body, his clothes looking somehow more rumpled than before. Wee Jas began melting away, leaving only bones and a slick black goo. Pelor however remained. He asked Ralishaz I have some things to discuss. May I have some free time? Ralishaz gave him a wave and turned back to the water.

Pelor made sure we were all standing and healed. He looked to Dravot. Are you well?

“I am.”

You have done well in Our eyes. You have served us with little information, as it should be. It is your faith that defines you. You must learn this lesson well. You must pass it on to others. You must teach the boy – he is important.

I have a duty for you. It is not pressing but it is important nonetheless. I have petitioned to return Brindinford to its proper place. It will be at some small risk, but that is the way of things. But what is important are its guardians. They do not _understand_. Even Meltorannan does not _understand_. When they did what they did… they sought to protect you. They have great love for you, as do I. When they saw Brindinford might become a victim solely to anger you, they lost sight of the greater picture. Understand that those that follow in my faith will come to a good end, even if their body is strewn across a temple. Those that died came to me. Do not despair for the loss of their bodies. What is important is that those that rebelled and hid Brindinford think they cannot come back. They were protecting Brindinford away from the Prime, and so they were not changed like Meltorannan was – they were not here to accept the agreement. They are truly orphans. They feel great shame, and they consider themselves now truly alone and outside. I would take them back. Please ask them to come to me. They respect and love you. They will listen to you.

You have labored long without guidance. I apologize but I cannot directly interfere with some things. Ralishaz is about to impose a balancing effect on the Prime. Some of the very understanding of the rules are changing. It is difficult to explain what will happen. Understand there are no longer the certainties you have come to expect when magic, divine or arcane, is applied. And even at least above ground, about the nature of places. Large urban centers are somewhat protected, but there will be planar shifts where there are not enough people to warrant that protection.

We have agreed to equal representation. Summoning will no longer be a simple matter. You were concerned about the enforcement of the rules. We have made concessions to make it more stringent. In the end we believe that those that seek salvation will find it, but not everyone seeks the light and so we must bring it to them. I would give you more information but I am not sure of the exact nature of things. We have an agreement in principle but the details are still being discussed.

Dravot asked humbly “But my Lord, who watches the watchmen?”

It is a fair question. We have an agreement, but it has been broken once. If it happens again, there will be no third. However the Judges are beyond reproach. They are after all of My host. And they acted in the passion of faith, but in faith nonetheless. None of the Judges were taken from the enemy hosts, therefore they will be truly independent. Should something change that, We would sweep down like a fiery host, and I would be wroth. Pelor eyed Ralishaz, not threatening but sending a clear message.

Ralishaz, if he was even listening, had no reaction or reply.

Remember the most important tenet of my faith: We will drown out evil with our actions. We will make so much light that no shadow can be cast. Keep to that tenet more than any other.

But you must also tend to the boy. You are My chosen avatar on this world. You are My mighty sword. He is… my voice, my shield. He is not indestructible or invulnerable, nor is he meant to be. Remind him of this.

“Recent events have taken my attention from one of my sworn purposes – my grandfather. Can You tell me anything to help me stop him?”

Your grandfather has forged alliances with beings in the underdark where I have little knowledge. There is no light. But even now he makes alliances he does not intend to keep. Your grandfather… it saddens me how he is driven. Though he was turned into that abomination, he still seeks to protect you. In a perverse way he protects your father and he seeks to protect you.

“I sensed this.”

Your grandfather was turned to an animus by Ivid and demonic agents posing as agents of Hextor. They were sent by Our Enemy, but I will speak not his name*. Your father was not allowed to go to Rauxes for fear he might become a tool. Your grandfather paid for that as Ivid began turning his generals, his enemies and his friends into animus. But he suffers what most of that kind do – singular devotion to some particular task or ideal. Many of Ivid’s generals still retained their brilliance in death, but lacked the focus they had in life. This undermined much of their ability. Your grandfather was a rare animus – he gained free will. But he hid it well, and made his plans. He was seeking to create a power base to challenge Rauxes when I directed Bellamy to contain him. I did not expect the binder to be unleashed but there were other things I was concerned with at the time. Your grandfather seeks now to become a demi-god replacing Iuz, not for power but to remove the influence of certain kinds of evil that order may be restored. A twisted order, but order nonetheless. All of this lead to his goal. You have unseated this, so he pursues other ways of stealing his power. He is singularly devoted to destroying Iuz; it is part of themania which guides him. His more immediate motives are unclear – the binders have made him difficult to track. However they damage him even as they empower him. None of the lore tells that the binders are dangerous to the user. He has gained power but at the expense of new vulnerabilities. He also does not realize that your brother also has free will. 

Know this Dravot: your father is not lost, nor is your brother. Some part of your grandfather refuses to complete the process. It can be reversed. He convinces himself he does not have the time or the resources, but it is a lie. At his core, he still wants to make things right and this prevents him from completing the work. They may yet be turned back to us.

Then Pelor turned to me, much to my surprise. I had been keeping a discrete distance allowing Dravot to speak to his god in a semblance of privacy, even though His every word was clearly heard. Kayleigh, I said I speak for several like-minded beings. Your Lord is one of them. He apologizes for not being able to speak to you earlier but there are rules. Understand it is no accident that you have become the being you are now, that you have gained the nock, that you have risen to the level of power that few of your race have ever achieved. You are blessed in his eyes, and while I disagree, he believes you do not need the same degree of guidance that I give My flock. Your family and your nation stand protected, though it may not always seem so. But remember that part of that protection is _you_. 

I just nodded and curtsied. There were a million things I could say, a million questions I could ask, but they don’t really matter now. There was one however that was bothering me. “If I may, what of the souls I brought to Arborea? Were they returned to the fold?”

Yes, they were cleansed My child. As for the others, some are lost to us. They were siphoned off to the Far Realms. Those are lost for now, and we are not sure how to get them back. But since Ralishaz has sealed the prime, the loose ones have floated about. Some where misappropriated in Fraz’ failed gambit, sent to evil places such as the Shadow King and his true master. 

“I am glad at least a few could be redeemed. My thanks.”

Dravot asked one more question. “My Lord, if I may, I would ask Your blessings for my coming wedding.”

Pelor smiled a wide, beaming, proud smile. Of course My Son. You have them. You shall have joy and happiness together. Oh, and tell Thorkeld that he would have had them too, if he had asked. His smile turned chiding but no less warm.

Pelor withdrew, and Aylwyn returned to his normal form. The sun seemed to shine a little dimmer with his departure but it was a small price to pay for his visit. Then with a start I remembered Lord Gelban. Hoping he was well, I tried to contact him. I was able to reach him and we arranged to meet the next night for dinner to discuss the details.

Feeling completely overwhelmed, we were at a loss as to what to do next. Ralishaz offered a kind suggestion and opened three portals – one to Ruun’Khazai, one to the palace in Celene and one to the Glitterhame. We went through them according to our needs, and each tried to take in the events of the day, and with it the meaning of faith.



* Pelor did not speak the name, but there was no doubt that the enemy was Orcus.


----------



## Valanthe the Sleepless

*More character mini goodness!*

Here are some more of the character's minis that I got to snap this past weekend.


The Paladin that needs killin', Aethramyr, painted by his player and Scorch.







and his faithful mount, Cresent, painted by Scorch.













Next, the shining light of Pelor himself, Dravot (shining light not included). I am not sure who painted him.














Alternate version Kayleigh, painted by her player, Zad.


----------



## Aethramyr

*Buh?*



> Valenthe: The Paladin that needs killin', Aethramyr, painted by his player?




Uh....close. Credit where credit is due. I did the basic coloring, but it was scorch's Talent with a brush that fixed it up.


----------



## Zad

*Undying - Epilogue*

*Undying – Epilogue – Part I*

*OOC Notes:*
The following few installments represent the end of Undying. No experience for these – it’s mostly clean-up work. Some of them will make better reading than others I’m afraid. I hope to make up for this first part with the others.

*Part I:*
The day had been something beyond my worst nightmares but for me it was not over. I couldn’t consider this done until I spoke to the Queen and told her of these startling developments. Ralishaz’ gate put me in the palace and I was before the Queen shortly after that. There was a council session underway, which I considered convenient as it would save me gathering people. I was too tired to even feign an apology as I walked through the doors, tried to conceal how tired I felt.

The assembled advisors stopped cold when I entered the room. Most of them looked uncomfortable and scared. Even Aran’gel looked tense until he saw me. I think he expected me to look the same but when he saw how tired I looked, he relaxed considerably. 

“Well, I suspect we’re about to find out what the hell is going on.”

I flopped into a chair. “Yes, but I’m not sure you’ll believe it.”

With a glass of wine in my hand, I started from the beginning…

***

We met The Gilden for dinner in the Giltterhame. Rather than sitting down in his human form, Lord Gelban was in his full draconic glory as was Hammer. It wasn’t until much later that it occurred to me that sitting down for a meal with two dragons might seem somehow unusual to most people.

There was another change in Lord Gelban, but one that took me a bit longer to put my finger on. Lord Gelban was no longer sitting with his agents or favored children – he was dining with people he considered his equals. He was as polite as he had ever been, but there was a subtle change and I realized he now saw us as his peers, not only in raw power but in ways that mattered more to him – in our deeds and our desire to protect this world. He had never taken us for granted but there was a special gratitude I perceived with every bit of information we shared.

We spent considerable time relating to him the events of the prior day. The Gilden listened intently both out of courtesy and for lack of anything to say. He knew events of great importance were happening, but he had no idea what the depth of it had been. As we reached dessert, Lord Gelban began relating new developments he was aware of. 

The Silverring was definitely under some enchantment that was keeping him slumbering. However Lord Gelban said he would investigate himself. He had also been checking on the githyanki in the aftermath of our war. The results seemed to be a long-planned but bloodless coup. The General so far had been true to his word, but there were several splinter groups that had broken away during the upheaval. Some of them just wanted to be under a different rule and were establishing splinter nations, while others were powerful gith seeking to make a grab for the reigns themselves, and these groups were responsible for some open hostilities. 

As for Lord Gelban himself, he was turning back an invasion fleet of the Scarlet Brotherhood. No doubt the brotherhood had been played by Fraz too, and convinced to send an invasion fleet towards the Sea Barons. The dragons, with help from the Sea Barons and the Iron Hills, had turned back the naval force. It was of passing note that the invasion fleet entirely bypassed the Lendores. Given the protections there I was not entirely surprised.

There was little else to relate, and rather than agonize over possibilities, we just enjoyed brandy after dinner and hoped that the coming days would bring some relative peace. 

***

There was another oddity that Scorch finally had time to investigate in the quiet aftermath of the Dawn of Judgment. We had recovered an unusual dagger from the Crypt of the ShadowTaker – it had an unusual mix of Sule and Bakluni elements and was something of a historical contradiction. It turned out to have more surprises than just that.

The dagger was made from starmetal – the rarest of the unusual metals. There are very few surviving artifacts left of starmetal, most from the Bakluni. There may have only been two actual sources of the metal at all. The properties of the blade are unusual even for that obscure metal – it was less magnetic than it would be normally, and Scorch believes that it can disrupt magical fields and perhaps even permanently destroy the soul of the victim.

***

The following days turned out to be calm indeed. The world had returned to some semblance of normalcy and we had returned our attention to more personal matters. Bolo was preparing for a summit of the remaining druids to decide who would lead them. Dravot was completing an enchanted dagger and planning to meet his brother in Greyhawk. And for me, I was again consumed with the creation of a bow, consumed with a renewed passion to defend Celene.


----------



## Zad

*Undying - Epilogue Part II*

*Part II:*

Dravot arrived in Greyhawk just before dawn on the day his brother Kaltin had asked to meet him. He had been gone from the temple for what seemed like an eternity and it was good to return to the familiar faces. He had thought it might be odd – returning to the church he had began as an acolyte, but returning now as a Saint. Yes, a Saint; while this was uncomfortable at first he’d finally accepted it as Pelor’s will. It was a chance to share faith and comfort and was not something to be feared or dreaded.

As glad as he was to be there, it was no less glad than the priests were to see him. Prestwick insisted he lead the morning mass, and then the two took breakfast together. Dravot had never been comfortable preaching to a large crowd but he had found the recent trials had strengthened his heart and he was glad to have someone to share that with. 

Around noon, an urchin arrived at the temple with a message for the Saint. She might have been turned away but Dravot had left word he was in town for special purposes, and so the message found its way to him. It contained only an address of a warehouse near the docks. Upon seeing it Dravot and Thorkeld set out immediately, taking pains to appear inconspicuous.

Dravot scanned the alleys and rooftops casually as the pair made their way through the streets. He didn’t see anything, and hadn’t expected to. But he knew. He knew she was out there somewhere. Watching over him like a dark angel. He laughed inwardly at the thought. Valanthe would never describe herself as an angel, and Dravot would have to agree with that. But in this case the parallel seemed appropriate. She had come to Greyhawk with him to be his angel and watch over him, just in case. Dravot didn’t believe the meeting to be a trap, but as Kayleigh pointed out, that didn’t mean someone else might not see it as an opportunity. The recent assassination attempt didn’t even have to be mentioned. Of course Kayleigh had also suggested that everyone going along be _mind blanked_ as a further precaution, and looking at the address again, it was advice he was glad he had taken.

As the warehouse came into view down the street, Valanthe’s mind came over the scale. _“The warehouse seems clean – no sign of an ambush or anything unpleasant outside.”_ Dravot smiled. Angel indeed.

The warehouse held huge stacks of quarried stone. It was a place ideally suited to hidden meetings. Barely visible as a shadow against a large stack of flagstones was a man about Dravot’s height. The man was not trying to hide, but nor was he being completely obvious about his presence. He called out “I’m glad you came.”

The voice was rough, but it was Kaltin. 

“Your invitation intrigued me. I’m glad to see you’re doing well,” Dravot replied as he came close enough to speak more discreetly. 

Valanthe had wasted no time. _“There are three drow here as well. I don’t see any weapons drawn – looks more like they’re trying to remain hidden. I don’t think they’re up to anything.”_

“So, I understand there’s been a great deal of commotion in the surface world?” Kaltin asked. 

“A bit,” Dravot smiled wryly. “But the commotion should be over. Hopefully forever but if nothing else, than for the moment.”

Kaltin stepped forward but still remained shadowed. “That’s good to know.” His tone was hesitant, as if he were about to cross some threshold. “I have been trying to put together allies to spring a trap to deal with our grandfather. The Duke of Geoff has agreed, at least in part, to aid the effort as well as some residents of the underdark. I wouldn’t call it an alliance but I’ve convinced them of our shared purpose.”

Kaltin paused, overwhelmed at the sight of his brother. “I’ve heard you’ve risen far in the church. It’s a source of great pride for me, and even for our grandfather, if you can believe that. You’ve done well.”

Dravot frowned. “Really? I had rather been hoping it would annoy him.”

Kaltin laughed a hoarse laugh. “Well, Chavram is somewhat… conflicted. And how is Brindinford?”

Dravot wasn’t sure how his brother knew what had happened to their home. “It has been returned to this plane. It was set to rights the day after the ‘commotion’ as you call it. It’s none the worse for wear, but the townsfolk are still a bit rattled.”

Kaltin nodded. “I have an hour before I must go. There are some drow here with me, including one accomplished sorcerer who will see to my return. The drow have certain sinkholes where they can transport up to the surface world or back down. These few are mercenaries working for me. They will keep quiet.”

Despite saying the drow would stay quiet, Kaltin whispered anyway. “There is more you must know. Chavram now has four of the binders. Two were located in the underdark and had been moved there some time after their original interment. I cannot say which binders however – I believe Chavram is trying to reveal as little as possible. He may be starting to suspect me so I must be very careful.”

Dravot nodded. “Of course. This is interesting. It means at least three binders were moved about five hundred years ago then. We recovered one recently ourselves.”

“I do not believe Chavram is seeking any more of them right now. The last was four or five months ago, and I think he began to fear that continued collection would lead him to direct conflict with you. He may have used the binders he had to help find the more recent acquisitions.”

Dravot knew this was impossible; the binders were completely immune to each other’s powers and could provide no information on each other. Chavram was indeed revealing little to those around him. 

“Chavram knows you have destroyed one of the binders. When one is destroyed, there is a reverberation among all the others. And he knows there is someone else seeking the remaining lost binders as well but he does not know who.”

Again, Dravot saw his brother’s information was incorrect. He had now seen to the release of two binders, but his brother must have been away to long to know of the second. That or his grandfather had not revealed it. 

“Part of the reason that Sebastian was sent away was the binders. Chavram wanted to avoid direct conflict with you for the moment, and that meant avoiding the binders. But Sebastian was even more obsessed than Chavram – his hatred of _you_ Dravot was all that drove him. He commissioned assassinations that Chavram did not want, and in the end that was what caused Chavram to cast him out. Sebastian used his connections with what he thought were agents of Hextor to get revenge. But they were not of Hextor.”

Dravot shook his head. “No they were agents of Fraz.”

Kaltin shrugged. “I’m not sure. I believe it was a demon prince but I’m not sure which.”

Dravot winked. “Trust me. It was Fraz. And as for Sebastian… well his hate wasn’t enough to sustain him.”

Kaltin replied with a quizzical look and Dravot told his brother how he had destroyed their half-brother in the chambers beneath the mountain.

Kaltin was taking this in and was about to ask more. But it was then that Dravot’s eyes saw the full measure of Kaltin and what this half a life was doing to him. The hair on the right side of his head had fallen out. The skin on his throat was dried and slack, and there was a quiet reddish glow now revealed in his iris’. This was quite unlike an animus, but Kaltin had stood for so long with only one foot in the grave that he was becoming something entirely different.

“You don’t look well brother. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Kaltin snorted. “I don’t think so. Some sort of change began not long after we last met and it has continued to develop. I have gained some strange abilities, but there has been a cost. I can summon darkness, or cause fire in an object by looking at it. I am not as powerful as a full animus, but I am… something… hell I’m not sure what I am. I don’t particularly care for it but I cannot reject anything that offers me a means to defeat our grandfather.”

Dravot put a hand on Kaltin’s shoulder. “This transformation can be reversed brother. Have a heart. We can fix this.”

Kaltin was clearly skeptical. It was then that Dravot realized the full weight of what Pelor had said to him. 

_I do not know exactly where they are._

For Pelor not to know, then it meant Kaltin was no longer actively worshipping Pelor. Kaltin too was having a crisis of faith, but seemed to be losing the battle.

Kaltin waved off his brother’s concern. “Grandfather has several weak spots that can be exploited. One is his obsession with _you_. I’m not sure what he’s up to, but ultimately he still has plans for you. However nor is he a fool. He knows you’ve grown quite competent.”

“You mentioned allies. Whom has he sought out?”

“Well there is the drow of course. He is in the City of the Spider Queen right now. He has brokered some kind of deal with the drow, but it is not one of large scale military cooperation. He is lending them some aid as they fight other races in the underdark. The duregar are on the defensive, and the illithid have been pushed back thanks to his help. Of course the illithid are also suffering from increasing raids of gith zerai war parties. But Chavram can provide the drow some degree of protection against the mind flayers and the drow strike teams have been wreaking havoc and seriously inconveniencing the illithid.”

_“Protection”_ Dravot thought. The abjuration binder is unaccounted for – it now seemed likely Chavram controlled it.

“Chavram has been very clever about securing his allies. For instance, before going under,” Kaltin went on “Chavram helped take Geoff back from the giants. He did this by destroying most of the stupider giants. The then flew in and killed many powerful giants for effect, and then negotiated from a position of strength. His proposition was simple – you can either back off, or join with me and I can make use of you. He plans to use them as the hammer to strike at Iuz. He’s still as fixated on him as ever.”

Dravot laughed. “Oh? He’s not planning on using his gnolls?”

Kaltin saw the joke. “No. Actually most of them are gone – dead or traded away as slaves.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“I believe grandfather will need to hold a summit. He will gather all the allies together and reveal his battle plan and prepare for his strike. The time is not yet here, but it is coming. He will be most vulnerable then – he will have to leave the underdark to do this. I will know when this time is coming and I will let you know. I’m not sure what you can do, but from what I’ve heard, you are very powerful and you may be able to take advantage of this opportunity.”

Dravot laughed wryly. “Compared to what I’ve seen in recent weeks, this seems positively simple.”

“I will make arrangements to get a message to you. There will be several intermediaries of course but it can be done.” Kaltin’s face changed to one of concern. “How are Gerrin and Thora?”

“They are well. Thora is even married,” and Dravot looked over his shoulder to where Thorkeld was waiting at a discreet distance.

“Hm. Well I suppose it could be worse. And how is Aylwyn?”

Dravot was slightly surprised that his brother knew the solar or would inquire about him. “He is well, but he too has been tested of late.”

Kaltin only nodded at this, but it was clear this was of great importance to him.

Their time was nearly up. Dravot said “Have faith my brother. Pelor has not turned his back on you. He loves you now as he ever has. And so do I. We can reverse this process. We _will_ reverse it. I promise.”

Kaltin looked ashamed as if he was someone who no longer deserved faith or hope. “You seem so sure. So very sure. I wish I had your faith.”

Dravot smiled. “I have walked the same road as you. You can have this faith – I will share mine with you. For faith is unique – no matter how much you share, you only gain more. Share my faith and believe. You will be healed.”

Kaltin was sad. “I wish I could. How can you be so sure? How do you _know?_”

Dravot shrugged. “I believe. I believe as ever I have since the day I learned of the atrocities of our grandfather. I knew then as I know now that you can be redeemed. I knew then as I know now that Pelor will not turn his back on you. He has a plan; he will provide.”

Kaltin still looked skeptical. Dravot put his arm around his brother and said “My faith was tested in recent days. I wish I knew if I passed.” The two shared a laugh. “But I know I am stronger for the ordeal, and that is the true nature of a test of faith. Trust in this: I know you will be redeemed.”

Kaltin was searching for hope to cling to but could not grasp it. “But _how_ do you know?”

“I know for two reasons. I know because I believe it in my heart and I always have. But I know for another reason.”

Kaltin raised an eyebrow laced with cynicism.

Dravot was unfazed. “I know because Pelor told me. Because three days ago, Pelor stood before me in his grace and radiance. And he told me so. He told me you can be saved. And he told me he still loves you.”

Kaltin looked in mute shock at his brother. He knew that Dravot did not mean this in any metaphysical sense. His had heard the stories of his brother, the Saint, and how he walked with his god. But only now did he truly see what his baby brother had become. He truly walked with Pelor.

And there was something else in Kaltin’s eyes too now. 

There was hope.

The brothers hugged, and went their ways. One to the light, the other to the darkness. But both now knew they would be together again. And as he returned to the temple, Dravot realized how contagious faith can be.


----------



## Zad

*Undying - Epilogue Part III*

*Part III*

I thought mages were supposed to be reclusive hermits when working on a project. I’ve fought wars with less running around than I was doing lately. But I had a very pressing deadline – the equinox was coming fast, and there could be no delays. 

I had been wanting to make a proper bow for some time, but of late the reasons had been changing. At first it was a simple desire for a proper tool but that has blended into deeper motives. And while I’ll be elated to wield it, selfishness is not among them. I have seen more in the past few years than has happened I think in the last two hundred. (Secretly I suspect that’s not at all true and that events of this magnitude are happening al the time. It’s just that most people don’t know about them. But unless I’ve been drinking a lot of wine, I tend to dismiss this idea, mostly for my own peace of mind.) Celene needed protecting, and this was another tool to do that with – one that would continue on even after I met my end. It was a way to protect my kingdom. At times I saw it as a way to ease my guilt and protect my kingdom even after I could no longer do it. 

Durgeddin put me on the path and now it was all clear. The equinox was the time. As for the place, that was far easier than it might have seemed. I had a hunch but I also knew the being who would know for sure. The Celenian was still meditating in the same clearing I’d last seen him in, despite reports that he was not. 

“Greetings Elder. I have come seeking your wisdom yet again.”

The Celenian smiled. “Indeed?”

“Aye. I now know the time. The moment when the power of our race and our nation is at its peak. The time when great deeds can be done and impossible enchantments forged. But with the time, there must also be a place. I come seeking that place.”

He was almost grinning, in a dignified sort of way. “But you already know the place do you not?” And he looked idly around at the clearing around him.

I nodded. “I suppose I do.”

***

My teachers of classical arcane knowledge would surely say I was not the best student they had ever encountered. But this did not seem to be a handicap in my preparations. On the contrary, once the pebble had been put into motion by Durgeddin, it gained speed and momentum and was now like an avalanche. I quickly figured out every ingredient and preparation that would be required. It included many items that learned minds were at a loss to understand. They were convinced this would be a total failure, but of course it was the only thing they agreed on; each one had a different solution to my “misunderstanding” of arcane theory. After consulting with them, I have learned one important lesson.

When attempting the blatantly impossible, it is best not to consult with learned minds.

I knew what all I needed – that part was easy. Getting it all was somewhat more difficult. Sometimes it was a matter just of finding things. The precise spot in all of Celene where the crimson moodnrop flower was in bloom or the one flake of azure crystal that had never been touched by the sun. 

In other cases it was a bit more obvious. Everyone of any education knew where you could find the iron willow trees. Properly treated, you could do amazing things with their sap and create a fiber, or so it was believed. Most people had to just believe it, because despite knowing where to get it, almost no one had actually ever possessed any. This probably had something to do with the rocs.  You see an iron willow is one of the few trees that can actually support a roc. Therefore there tended to be quite a few rocs around the grove. 

It was an interesting encounter on some levels. There’s a school of thought that most predators are also prey to some other creature, and that breeds a sense of survival. This school also says that rocs have no sense of survival since they have never had to confront a predator. I can now say, with certainty, that this line of reasoning is utter drivel, and that rocs can exhibit a sense of survival, once it’s clearly demonstrated that they can be viewed as prey.

I moved across the length and breadth of Celene taking in all her beauty and with it one or two horrors. For the most part I harvested my needs quietly and left unnoticed. In some cases I was able to convince the guardians of my honesty of purpose. And in a few instances, the negotiation was more bloody. The days went by quickly, but by the time the equinox arrived, I was ready.

The ceremony was lengthy and demanding. I call it a ceremony, because that seems more appropriate. This was not a case of a workman in his shop, bending metal or wood to his will. I was shaping a branch of the First Ash and this could not be accomplished by cutting, hacking, scraping and sanding. It would be done in the elven way – by asking the wood to take the shape you desired and letting nature, not tools, harness the power of the materials. But the First Ash was not a wood that would be easily convinced; it would take a strong will to convince it to do anything. On top of that, the complexity of the enchantments would require something on the order of an epiphany to weave together.

I started at dawn, and worked through the day and night alone in that clearing. I started with the branch of the First Ash – hardly more than a stick and only perhaps a foot long – and coaxed forth growth and purpose. I brought saps, metals and silks together to form a string strong and supple enough to mate the limbs of the bow. And I wove together threads of magic throughout the weapon, pouring my heart, my soul, and my love for my kingdom together into one force.

It was almost a full day from when I had started. The moon was high overhead, bright and full and the sun was about to creep over the treetops. The bow was formed and it was unlike any I had known. It was time.

I took from my quiver a very special arrow. The arrow itself had taken three days to make. It was more than an arrow; it was an offering. Weeks before, The Celenian had said “When the bow is complete, you must fire one arrow at the moon. If the work is true and good, the arrow will disappear, and will not fall to the earth. This is the final step.”

The arrow was my offering to Corellian. It was my plea – my prayer for strength of heart and of will to create a tool to protect my country. It was perhaps the finest arrow that had been made in centuries, and it was my prayer. 

I picked up the bow, and it felt inert despite all that had gone into it. It felt heavy and clumsy and as I set nock to string, I started to wonder if it would shatter as I drew. I took a deep breath, and I felt my faith lift me up. I drew back the arrow as I lifted the bow towards the skies above, and held the arrow for a single precious moment. 

_This is my gift. My prayer. My hope for Celene. My love._

My fingers relaxed, and in an instant, the bow surged to life. The bow, the arrow, and I were all one. The bow felt delicate, light, precise, and perfect and the arcane power of the bow melded with my own and flowed into the arrow as it shot towards the moon. The arrow seemed to slow in the air as it left the bow, like a falcon hovering in flight, then suddenly shot skyward at blinding speed. It did not pause for wind nor the pull of the earth, but moved in a unwavering line towards the moon. I followed the arrow for what seemed an eternity but soon even my eye could no longer see the arrow, but a heartbeat after I lost sight of it, the sun shined free and a blazing red halo danced around the moon’s silvery face. And as the red fire played around the moon, I could hear the words Pelor had so recently spoken. But this time it was not his voice.

_Your family and your nation stand protected. But part of that protection is you. You are blessed in my eyes._

I offered up my heart, my love, my prayers. And they were heard, and returned. Truly I am blessed.


----------



## Zad

Recognizing there are some folks who might possibly be curious, and I suppose partly because I feel like sharing the monstrosity I created, I'll share the mechanics of it. (Note that this was created with the notion of our house-variant of the Arcane Archer class, a.k.a. the Nifft variant.) This bow was designed on some level as a weapon of war to defend Celene against invaders.

*Dawnfire, Guardian of Celene*
In the hands of most wielders, Dawnfire acts like a +2 mighty composite longbow. However Dawnfire was made for the Elven Champions and in the hands of such a wielder, its full power becomes apparent. It is a +8 mighty composite longbow. The strength bonus adjusts to fit the wielder. It bestows +15 to spot checks, as well as See Invisible, and Protection from Evil.

In addition, the wielder can use the following spell-like powers from the bow. Each use consumes the listed charges. The bow has 21 charges and the charges are refreshed each day at dawn. To use each effect, the wielder fires an arrow to deliver the spell and must hit the target with a normal attack. (The arrow delivers normal damage in addition to the spell effect.) If the attack misses, resolve area spells with grenade rules.

Ray of Enfeeblement (empowered) - (1d6+5)*1.5 strength drain, 10th level caster, 1 charge
Fireball - 10d6, 10th level caster, 1 charge (DC 20 reflex)
Greater Dispel Magic - 20th level caster (+20 to check), 2 charges
Chain Lightning - 20d6 primary target, 20th level caster, 2 charges (DC 25)
Polar Ray - 20d6, 20th level caster, 3 charges
Delayed Blast Fireball - 20d6, 20th level caster, 3 charges (DC 25)

Note: The Arcane Archer may use her Penetrating Arrow ability to overcome SR for these spell effects.

The arcane archer may also use bow charges to support the Arcane Shot ability. Each charge used this way adds +1 to hit and +1d6 damage to the next attack. This cannot be used in a round in which a spell effect from the bow is used.

Hardness:36
Hit points:90

Appearance: The bow is made of a solid ash staff which in fact was donated by the First Ash. The wood has not been cut, shaved or sanded, but instead has been "encouraged" in the elven way into the shape needed with two growths of wood intertwining along each limb. The wood is a rich gold color. Inlaid into the surface, again without any visible cutting, is delicate elven scrollwork. The color will vary from the color red sunrise to the blue-white of a morning frost to the purple-silver of a stroke of lightning from a summer storm, depending on the angle of the viewer. The string looks as if it was fashioned from from moonlight and dew, looping around the ends of the bow without any apparent knot.


----------



## WizarDru

rigur said:
			
		

> I would like to thank both players and DM for an excellent story. Keep up the good work and keep on playing. Your story hour now belong to my personal list of storyhour favourites which also includes Sepulchrave, Piratecat, Sagiro, Nemmerle, Wulf and Destan. You are in good company.



Thank you for the kind words.  They mean a lot to us, I can assure you.  Zad works quite hard at the story hour, and I think it shows (though I sometimes thinks he's too critical of his own writing).

For those who crave an insight in to how this particular session was played out, here's how it worked:  essentially, this was primarily a talking session.  By design, there was to be no combat, and it was dedicated mostly to the PCs wrapping up loose ends, preparing for upcoming storylines (or the termination of them) and to generally have a relaxing session, in the absence of a player or two.  Any Ninja Gaiden or SSX 3 that was played in the meantime was purely coincidental. 

My general style of DMing has become more freeform as play has reached higher levels.  This is because of the range of power available to such players, and the clever nature of the Meepites in particular.  I generally know where they're going to go or what they're going to do, but no plan survives an encounter with the enemy, theirs or mine.  One could say that of the campaign as a whole. 

It can be ironic how a shorter session can generate more material that one that may run three times as long, but some things don't necessarily translate as well.  This session was relevant in that the players are now officially getting as many good answers to old questions as not, allowing them to catch up with all the events around them.  The days of their being tottally in the dark are behind them.

Now they're only halfways in the dark. 

Thanks, again.


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## pogre

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> Scorch DMed a mega module tonight. a fun time was had by all. It was nice to play a first level character for a change.




[Hijack for Scorch]Hey Scorch, Hope things went well with LCoB! I cannot find your e-mail so I thought I would give you a heads up: There are a couple of major errors on the maps in the module and some huge blunders in a couple of stat blocks. One so much so it is the difference between CR9 and CR4! Be sure to check the errata at Necromancer's site. There are a couple of doors missing from the map on page 112/113 that can make the adventure a whole lot more challenging!

My apologies for the hijack guys, but I assume Zad with his new found moderator powers can delete this with no trouble.[/Hijack]

What the heck - count it as a BUMP of this awesome SH!


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## Argent Silvermage

*Scorch's Story Hour!*

Read about the Endhome Six 

Were in the Rogues Gallery as well right Here


----------



## WizarDru

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> Read about the Endhome Six
> 
> Were in the Rogues Gallery as well right Here



And while we're on the subject, this one's for Pogre:  it's the mini pics of our most recent Barakus session, while I (WizarDru) sat half-unconscious on the couch in a fever session, casting Disrupt Undeads all the way.


----------



## WizarDru

*Equinox:  Prelude*

 Windfall glanced at the Grove of Summer with approval.  It was good.  It had to be.

 The druid scanned the assembled servants of the green. Representatives had come from the Gnarley Forest and the welkwood. From the Crystalmists and the Barrier Peaks. From the Blasted Lands and the Jungles of Amideo. A contentious, sometimes angry lot of independent-minded guardians. Fights had been few, but this many of his kind in one location would incites such things. It was the way of nature.

 Not all were so disinclined, of course. Some chose passion and love, and displayed it openly, with no shame. Their couplings could be casual or committed, but always like a rainstorm. Old partners and new explorers both were to be found here, and few even noticed or paid scarce attention to such open displays. It was their way.

   "_So few have come, brother?_" It was the voice of White Rose. He turned to regard her lovely form, plainly sexual even as drabbly clothed as she was in robes of brown wool. She was one of the new council, just as he. He nodded in reply.

   "*It would seem so.  Many of our kind wait to see what will happen here.  Look in that tree there, and there.*"  

 She followed his pointing gesture, gazing at the treeline. He could see the scanning in her trained eyes, the eyes of a hunter. From her frown, he knew she saw them.

   "_Sticklings?  Companions?  Watchers?  Is this how they assemble to choose the fate of our faith?_"  Her voice contained undisguised disdain.  White Rose was, in all things, immediate and honest.

   "_*There is some wisdom in such matters,"  *_Windfall replied.  "_*We still live with the fear. If too many of us gather, we might be wiped out. It would be reckless of us all to join, even for an event as important as this. Those who need to have been informed, have been. Those who have been summoned will heed our call. A new Grand Druid will be chosen.*_"

   "_You sound very sure._"

   "_*I am not.*_"

   "_You are an exceptional liar, then._"

   "_*I am, indeed,*_" he conceded, chuckling.  "_*But it is no lie...they will come.  And they will be tested.  I only hope our tests are challenging enough for such as they.*_"

   "_Are they truly so powerful? The Brandybuck was accomplished, I had heard, but just that. It is the Barrow King or Thorn that I fear."

_Windfall considered trying to explain to White Rose what he had seen of Bolo at the elf-Queen's halls. The palplable aura of elemental power that he casually, perhaps even unknowningly, possessed. As he sought a way to explain it, the telltale sound of hooves on the hard earth signalled the approach of Master Ashbury.

 "Windfall speaks true, child. Bolo may have been inexperienced once, but he is well beyond what you may have once heard, now. He bears the mark of Dydd." White Rose bowed in deference to the centaur, as Windfall himself did. The burly man-horse gazed down at them with amusement. "You need show no deferrence to me. I am but a servant of the green, as are you," he gently chided.

   "_*I do not serve the Green Man, nor guard the the World Tree, Master.*_"  

 "YOUR grove is no less important than mine, boy. All of them are important, these days. Now more than ever, with the unliving plague to the south, and the contagion to the north. Now, more than ever, we need every grove if the world is to survive."

   "_But what of the Barrow King , or Thorn? They are terrible in their fury, but perhaps they have the right of it. Perhaps it is time we marched to war, Master Ashbury."_ 

 "If they prove themselves worthy, then march we may, girl. March we may. But we are not campaigners, organized armies. We are the thundercloud, the hurricane, the forest fire. They will learn to fear us, if we unleash our rage upon them."

   "And what will Markus do?"  came a new voice, low and raspy, like a hoarse whisper.

   "_*Markus will do whatever Markus pleases, I suppose, friend Certimo. I could not say for sure. He keeps his own counsel, sometimes. I think he would have us turn our backs on the civilized world, and fortify against the coming battles.*_"  

 Windfall regarded the Master Ashbury's guardian ranger, a tiefling wrapped in scarves, twin war-sickles slung across his back. Lithe, muscular and tense, he was a strung bow, waiting to release his energy. His eyes scanned in ever direction, searching for trouble. Only his red eyes and horns were visible over the scarves covering his face. For all of his fearsome appearance, Certimo was a good man...but violently protective of his master.

   "You may be right, Windfall.  You may be right.  How many tests will there be?"

   "_*I am sworn not to speak of it, Master.*_"

   "Good for you.  I merely wished to make sure of it."

   "_*Yes, Master.*_ _*Soon, we will reveal the tests.  In but a matter of hours, everyone shall know.*_"

   Windfall cast his gaze to the sky, and stared at the sun.  It would not be so long now.  He felt White Rose grab his arm.

   "_All this waiting is boring. Stop this nonsensical sulking, Windfall. It ill becomes you. You are more comley than ugly, if less than handsome. Come with me now and make love to me under the sky, while we have time to waste. Good Day to you, Master Ashbury. Certimo."

_While the Master laughed, White Rose dragged Certimo away to a bed of soft clover beneath a beech tree. Windfall glanced at the Grove of Summer with approval. It was good. It had to be.

   Then White Rose pulled him to the ground, and he thought of other things, for a time.


----------



## Zad

*Part III*

(Reader’s note: Unlike most entries, this is not an entry in Kayleigh’s journal, since she was not present and has no knowledge of these events. Indeed few outside the druidic faith ever will.)

Bolo puttered quietly about the grove, enjoying the tranquil moments that the last weeks had brought. To the outside observer, he was doing nothing different from any other druid – tending plants and animals, and seeing to the welfare of the grove and all its inhabitants.

But the truth is he was doing something entirely different. He was _waiting._ 

_Waiting_ for the time of the testing. _Waiting_ for the moment when the few remaining druids of the world would chose who would lead the shattered remnants of their faith. _Waiting_ for the time when he would have to chose – did he want to be the one?

In time, a small animal arrived with a message telling him when and where he would be collected. Only the new council knew the location where the testing would be conducted, and so one of them would come for him. The message said to give careful consideration to your spell preparation for the tests would be to determine who has mastered all the talents of the druids. 

At the appointed hour, Windfall arrived. He was genuinely glad to see Bolo, although propriety forced him to at least attempt to appear impartial. The two exchanged their greetings, and in a moment, stepped into a tree and were flung across Oerth.

The pair emerged on a snow-capped hillside. To the southeast was a vast mountain range, and to the north a frozen ocean. The air was bitter cold, and there was no doubt that this was as far north as mankind walked. In a small gulley below, the air was artificially warmer and the icy cold wind was reduced to a crisp breeze. Dozens of druids loitered below. Some discussed, some argued, some of them just waited, and others helped to build several large stacks of wood to be used as bonfires. In total, perhaps four score druids were in attendance personally, while in the brush small animals waited and observed on behalf of some other party.

Bolo nearly jumped a foot when Certimo appeared from his hiding place and greeted him warmly. The three made their way down to the center of the gully, and hushed whispers accompanied his passing. Before any other drew near, Windfall whispered to Bolo “Great things will be decided today. As a member of the new council, I am impartial and will show you no favoritism in these proceedings. But know this – I hope that you win.”

Bolo felt a little warmer with that vote of confidence, but in moments other druids were clustered around to greet him, or in some cases argue with him.

It was clear to all that the time to begin was nearly at hand when the Guardian of the First Ash entered the clearing along with Ashbury, guardian of the World Tree. As they reached the center of the clearing, there was a low rumbling from the skies above as if several waves of thunder were cascading over one another. Suddenly breaking the clouds came four ancient wyrms. The dragons banked and swooped across each other and descended on the clearing, their metallic hues reflecting the low sunlight.

The four wyrms – Gold, Copper, Silver, and Bronze – each powerful, wise, and respected among their kind, landed at the four compass points. To most of the druids these wyrms were strangers. To the elders, they were the Judges; wise, good, and impartial. But to Bolo it was something else, for he knew each by name, and he nodded to each as they landed – The Gilden, The Platinar, The Brazen and (while he had never met him, he had no doubt) The Cupric.

The Gilden (for it would have been inappropriate to think of him as Lord Gelban here) lowered his head and allowed the Guardian of the Ash to step up. As he raised her above the gulley, the assembled druids fell into silence. 

It was time. And in the way of the druids, there was no time or words wasted saying what they all knew.

She called out “Who comes forth to contest for the role of Grand Druid this day?”

Bolo was the first. “I, Bolo Brandybuck, will challenge.”

The Guardian inclined her head in acknowledgement. There was a small murmur but this was hardly unexpected. But the murmur then took on a different tone, and was gradually replaced by the beating of low drums. The cadence built mixing drum and beast and then a mammoth broke through the trees. It’s size would have been enormous were it not so sadly dwarfed by the assembled dragons. Standing atop the mammoth was a massive specimen of a half orc. The mammoth trumpteted loudly, and the half-orc called “Thorn does!”

The Guardian betrayed no emotion and inclined her head again.

From the other side of the clearing, a stone tower three stories high erupted from the earth. A creature of bizarre construction stepped onto the balcony and with a flourish declared “I, Septinov, challenge.”

Again, the Guardian nodded.

Near the center, the ground rippled and flowed like water. From the puddle, a dwarf rose up and then stood before all, gruffly calling “Nader the Burrower will challenge.”

It seemed most of the challengers were intent on making a grand entrance. At least one felt it was a pointless display. A human with a bald head but a flaming red beard leaned upon a staff and called out. “I would challenge. I think you all know me.”

The Guardian said “We accept your challenge, Marcus.”

The wind picked up in the clearing and snow was blown off the ground. The wind reached a shrill creshendo and the snow swirled to reveal a very tall female elf with icy blue skin. A voice like winter frost said “Song of Storms will challenge.”

The competition was becoming more than Bolo had expected. He knew of few so powerful but these beings were clearly on the fringes of the druidic faith. Of course that was likely part of why they had survived. And the challenger that the druids feared most had yet to appear.

But that changed. Any hope that he would decline were shattered. The thumping was low at first but built to an unmistakeable sound. A tree broke through a nearby group, but it was unlike any tree in this part of the world. It looked dead but for the blood-red leaves. Dozens of bodies hung from vines dangling from the tree’s knarled limbs. The tree stopped, and for a moment there was silence.

Then one of the bodies began to twitch. There were loud snaps as bones cracked into place. The tree lowered it to the ground and as it hit, the head wrenched into place. It took the vine and tied it around its waist, and with a crack of its arms said “I would have a say.”

The Barrow King had arrived.

The Guardian waited but no other called out. Windfall looked puzzled. “There are seven. There should be eight. One is missing.”

A small squeaking noise followed and a field mouse was scampering into the clearing. As it ran it shifted to the shape of a small halfling. “Oh, sorry. Red Mouse. That would be me.”

Windfall nodded. “There will be a series of challenges. In these challenges you will be expected to prove your skills as a druid and your worthiness as a leader. For some of these challenges there will be restrictions on your use of spells or direct action. The points will be tallied. In the event of a tie, the Judges will decide.”

“Your first task begins now. There are eight bonfires built. Find one, and light it.”

Without any delay, Thorn turned around and brought a flame strike down on the nearest pile of wood. He smiled smugly.

Both Bolo and Nader used a smaller spell to achieve the same basic effect. Septimov, the urban druid, used lightning rather than fire directly but the end result was the same.

Red Mouse returned to mouse form, and darted into one of the piles. Nobody was sure what he did, but the pile did catch fire and he skittered back out.

Song of Storms went about things in a more unconvential manner. She used her powers to compel another creature to light the fire for her.

The Barrow King gestured, and two zombies dropped from the tree. The shambled their broken bodies to an unlit pile and used flint and tinder in an almost comical attempt to light the fire. They did succeed, but one of the zombies also managed to set himself on fire in the process.

Marcus just shook his head at the waste. He walked over to one of the fires, pulled a flaming brand from the pile, and with it lit the last pile of wood.

The new council conversed quietly with the dragons. Even the sharpest ears could not make out what they were saying. There was nodding, and points made, and White Rose (a comely female druid on the council) must have made some amusing but off-color comment. 

Windfall came forth. “The Equinox has begun and the songs will begin soon. The first contest has been won. Marcus the Hunter stands with the finer solution – neither wasteful nor extravagant. Some were conservative, some were excessive, and others were just… disturbing but Marcus stands alone. There will be more trials ahead. This was but one.”

With that, the rituals began.

Some hours later, when the ceremonies of the Equinox were complete, the next trial began. The candidates were paired off – one was the hunter and the other was the prey. The prey would have a thirty minute head start and could use no spells. The hunters would have three hours to find them and touch them, using no items and no spells greater than the third level.

Septimov was hunted by Nader. His skills were not well suited to this task, but he was clever. He turned into a bat and flew for a distance and then took the shape of a small pebble. Nader did his best to track him and by conversing with the trees came to where he ended as a bat but was baffled. Septimov evaded his hunter and won.

Bolo was hunted by Song of Storms. He went a distance then became a plant. Song of Storms tracked him by scent into the general area. Bolo was shocked when the surrounding plants betrayed his location when Song of Storms asked, and Bolo was caught.

Red Mouse was being hunted by Marcus the Hunter. He pulled out several bags and dropped over a dozen red mice on the ground. The mice scattered in every direction, then he too became a mouse and ran into the brush. Marcus was ready for an honest hunt and hoped that Red Mouse had no other tricks he would attempt to try. Marcus took to the air as a hawk and caught mouse after mouse from the bag of tricks, and eventually caught Red Mouse shortly before time ran out.

The Barrow King was hunted by Thorn. At the start, all the zombies were lowered from the tree and they all put on cloaks and ran into the woods. The Barrow King also put on a cloak and with a twisted smile vanished into the trees. Thorn pursued, and soon recruited some thoqqua to help locate him. The creatures reported that it was difficult to sense much with the other thoqqua down there. Thorn moved quickly and they soon forced the Barrow King to the surface and Thorn was victorious.

This ended the second trial. The third began immediately. While the hunt had been going on, a wicker gate was constructed in the center of the gulley. The gate bore some passing resemblances to the mechanical gates employed by the dragons. While this gate had a more natural focus the purpose was much the same. Each druid was taken to a different place and forced to deal with the situation there. 

Septimov was taken to a desert where a giant ant lion was agitated and preying on passers by. Septimov was told to calm it, but he failed and the ant lion took several bites at him. The toxins had no effect on the druid, who was not a life form like any other, but he failed all the same.

Bolo was brought to an underwater scene. He was told that a naga was living in the shipwreck ahead, and was fiercly attacking anything she felt was an intruder, including passing shipping. He was to fix the problem.

Bolo took the form of a merman and approached the naga. He was able to get her to parley, and offered to guarantee her protection if she would cease attacking the passing shipping. She reluctantly agreed, and Bolo bestowed intelligence upon some eels and bade them act as her guardians. His effort was a success, but not a stunning one. The druids took a dim view of so casually awakening creatures to intelligence, and he never identified himself as a druid hence showing that the druids will not stand for such behavior.

Song of Storms was taken up the mountain and confronted with a lone wolf who was half enraged and killing more than his share out of grief and lonliness. Song of Storms matched his form and made an… interesting proposition to him. The thought of leading a new pack was enough to calm him somewhat. Song of Storms had succeeded in her challenge.

Marcus the Hunter was simply pointed at a druid sitting up the hill watching the challenges. He was told “He is angry. Solve the problem.” There was an implication there was something more going on but only the implication. Marcus sat with the druid and talked with him at length. As they spoke, it became clear this man was no druid but an imposter. When confronted, he admitted to being a doppelganger and to working for someone whom he feared more than anything a druid would do to him. Marcus shrugged, unable to counter that argument, and his lion companion destroyed the imposter.

The Barrow king was taken through the portal to a dark alley beyond. After a few minutes, he came back through with a vine-wrapped body shambling after him. The body went to the tree where it was taken up into the branches with the others. What happened was unclear, but the Barrow King had passed.

Thorn is taken to a village where a Jann is setting rooftops on fire. Thorn took the situation firmly in hand, and also passed his challenge.

But it was Nader who had the most sound triumph. He was taken to a clearing where two satyrs were arguing and on the verge of fighting. Nader’s answer was to simply start talking to them, and knowing how short the attention span of the fey is, he simply kept talking until they forgot what they were fighting about. Where the others merely succeeded, he triumphed.

(to be continued…)


----------



## Len

Zad said:
			
		

> The "situations" were all somewhat unique. I liked Aethramyr's solution best I think.



But for the bonfires I liked Marcus' solution best:


> Marcus just shook his head at the waste. He walked over to one of the fires, pulled a flaming brand from the pile, and with it lit the last pile of wood.



I was thinking the same thing by that time.


----------



## Zad

> But for the bonfires I liked Marcus' solution best



I'll be honest - that was a slight fib.

My first reaction to the overly-showy displays was to be more basic. All that was required was to light the fire. So Marcus went over and used flint and steel (i.e. Survival skill) to light the fire. Afterwards I said "Oh he shoulda done THAT instead!" and I put it in the story that way since it didn't change the outcome.


----------



## Zad

*Part IV*

*Part IV*



White Rose frowned. Even frowning her face was lovely, but it had the distinct effect of making men want to fix whatever was making her frown. “I mislike this.”

“So you have said. Several times in fact,” countered Windfall. He was by no means immune to her frown, but the elder druid had larger concerns.

“We are playing a dangerous game. We take a great risk. The land could be blighted, and many people killed if this goes poorly. And while the situation is not of our causing, we are ruthlessly taking advantage of it for the sake of these tests.”

Windfall smiled. “Is it not wise to take advantage of all nature offers you?”

“Take advantage?!?” she huffed. “We are playing with these people’s lives and just for the sake of finding a new grand druid.”

Windfall looked at her with deadly seriousness. “If we chose poorly, many more lives will suffer. A great many more.”

White Rose had no answer for that. There was none she could give.

She soon gathered the candidates together and addressed them soberly. “There is a forest fire. You will be taken to it. You have ten minutes to prepare. To the east of the fire line is a human settlement. There are also some humans lost in the woods. Your objective is to protect the human settlement. Your secondary goal is to bring the lost humans to safety.”

Despite her words, the test did not begin in ten minutes. It began the moment she said the words “forest fire”. How these candidates would react would tell much of their worthiness.

Bolo was first to say it. “If there is a forest fire, we cannot seek to be competitive about this. We must cooperate with each other if lives are to be saved.” To White Rose’s mild surprise, there was near total agreement. The Barrow King seemed somewhat disinterested, but all the others agreed immediately – even the wendingo Song of Storms. 

She was again surprised when they fell immediately to a very practical discussion of who could best accomplish what. Capabilities were discussed openly and honestly. They parsed themselves into two groups – those who had the talents to stem the tide of the fire, and those who would find the lost humans. As the discussion about the fire continued, Marcus stopped the conversation and asked a crucial question.

“Our objective is to save the settlement and the lost humans, is that correct? Put another way, our objective is _not_ to stop the fire?”

White Rose’s eyes narrowed, but that was the only outward sign of the approval she felt. It was a good question. A wise question. A worthy question. But she could not say such things. She only said “That is true.”

It took them only three minutes to complete their plans. Red Mouse and Marcus would seek the lost humans, while the others would protect the village. White Rose transported them immediately. 

And they all wisely chose to leave their animal companions behind.

The group emerged in a smokey glade. The protections the druids had put in place were holding – they were designed to make the arrival safe, if not comfortable. On all sides of the glade, thunderous flames burned at the trees and underbrush.

Marcus changed shape and took to the air, while Red Mouse scattered several of his namesake and then joined them in form and skittered into the forest. The others all moved towards the village, gathering information from the plants and animals as they went.  They all said the same thing – the fire started all at once. When the group arrived, they were suspicious of the cause of the fire but had no reason to suspect anything foul. This news however changed that.

It took Marcus the Hunter only minutes to find the group of lost people trapped in the flames and fallen trees. He stepped through tree and shadow and quickly brought them all to safety. He made it seem too easy. Meanwhile the Burrower heard from the plants of an old man who lived in a hut nearby. He found the hut easily enough and the old man unconscious inside it. His safety was secured by Thorn who was patrolling in the form of a white dragon, and took the man away from the encroaching fire.

Bolo and the Barrow King each set to digging a fire break to protect the town, although Bolo was considerably more effective at it as a bullette. As they dug the break, Song of Storms began a storm-summoning ritual. 

White Rose watched them. She began, slowly, to worry a little less. The candidates moved quickly and well, and more importantly, in concert. The dragons expected this task to be very telling, but to her eyes, all the candidates seemed to be aquiting themselves admirably.

There was already a light rain falling – it seemed lighting was what touched off the fire in the first place. Or perhaps it was only meant to seem so. In any case the rain was not strong enough to deter the fire – more would be needed. As Song of Storms slowly built her control of the skies, she could feel another presence pushing back. Something else was fighting her for control of the sky. Something from the west.

She said as much to Bolo, who flew off to investigate. He could hear the struggle for control, now that he knew to listen for it. It was not hard for him to find the source. 

There out at sea, lurking in the choppy waves. A kraken.

Bolo wasted no time. He approached the kraken and spoke to it. It called itself the Master of Waves. (It was, White Rose thought, a bit presumptious, but so was the kraken.) The kraken was outraged at the overfishing of the humans. It was a fairly simple issue – what bothered White Rose was that the stakes were too high. Bolo was able to pacify the kraken, and he released his hold on the weather. Song of Storms shaped the storm to her bidding, and the situation was resolved.

Indeed it was the best possible outcome White Rose could have hoped for. And while she was pleased with the results, she was less certain that the dragons had seen what they required. The worth of the candidate could not be revealed without some degree of failure, but she was glad not to have it just the same.

There would be plenty of room for failure in what would follow, and with little harm.

Windfall gathered the candidates for their last trial. A test of summoning allies to engage in battle. This test would be creature to creature, not person to person. They could aid their ally, but not directly attack their foe or their foe’s creature. The fight would continue until the judges stopped it or one side yielded. The power of the creatures to be summoned would be determined randomly but would be equal for both combatants.

_This is more like it_ thought White Rose. _The creatures are not permanently harmed, and the test tells much – more even than just who wins and who does not._

In the first round, the Barrow King fought Red Mouse. The creatures permissible were quite weak, but the Barrow King’s dire wolf defeated Mouse’s dire rat.

Next Thorn fought Nader the Burrower. The creatures were powerful – an earth elemental versus a salamander. It was a close fight and well done. Ultimately the elemental proved victorious.

The next was an interesting match up – Marcus versus Bolo. The outcome of this could tell much. The creatures were to be weak – luckly for Marcus. He was a skilled hunter and traveler but unable to summon powerful allies. Had the luck been different he would have lost even before the fight began.

Bolo made a bold move – he summoned a hippogriff whereas Marcus chose a dire badger. The hippogriff closed quickly and tried to grab the badger – likely to simply try to carry it up and release it. But the badger clawed the face of the beast as it closed and it never got hold. White Rose wasn’t even sure a hippogriff could lift a badger. The fight from there was brief and the judges ended it quickly with victory for Marcus.

White Rose wondered, just for a moment, if she saw a look of relief on Bolo’s face.

The second round began with Marcus vs the Burrower. Nader tried a bold ploy and instead of summoning a creature he flexed the rules of the contest and summoned a swarm of bats. The giant eagle Marcus had called fought briefly but was unsure how to counter the swarm. The eagle then flew up, trying to lure the bats into the cold air outside the protected area. It was a brilliant move; the eagle was much better equipped for the cold than the bats were. But somehow the swarm held together and pursued the eagle, buoyed by the winds Nader controlled. The eagle finally gave up and stood to fight but by then it was too late. Marcus was powerful, but not a powerful _druid_. His eagle winked out before it could finish the bats off, and Nader was declared the winner.

_But only just barely_ thought White Rose. In her mind the tactics were at least as important as the final outcome. In this, both druids performed admirably.

Song of Storms then was matched against the Barrow King. Again the creatures were weak – dire wolf to giant eagle. Song of Storms caused her ally to grow, and the King countered. She gave its talons magical edge, and the King did the same. Indeed, they were both using up a great deal of their arcane reserve. White Rose pondered what Song of Storms would have left in the final round if she squandered it all now. But her eagle proved the better, and its talons bit deep into the wolf’s hide. The judges spared the beasts any further pain when it was clear the eagle would be the victor.

The last battle would be Song of Storms versus Nader the Burrower. The creatures would be powerful. 

Both druids elected to summon a djinn. The djinn both looked about and knew they were here for a contest, not a life-and-death struggle. They faced each other and slowly bowed. Each then drew a curved sword and saluted. Then in a flash it began. The djinn savored the risk-free opportunity to match their skills, and the swordsmanship displayed was noteworthy. After a great many exchanges, Song’s djinn lured his opponent out of position and brought the blade in to his neck. He stopped suddenly, the blade barely caressing his opponent’s flesh. They froze for a moment, then together they stood, and bowed at each other again. The assembled druids applauded, and the djinn were released.

The battle was fascinating, but it had been largely irrelevant. The druids and dragons had conferred and made their decision. White Rose feared what would happen if they made the wrong choice, but with this one she felt at least some measure of confidence.

Windfall went forward. “The judges have rendered their decision. The Grand Druid shall be… Marcus the Hunter.”

_There it was again._ White Rose was almost certain she saw it this time. She made sure to watch Brandybuck as Windfall spoke. _I’d swear he looked relieved._

Marcus was not one for speeches. Or it seemed, for Grand Druid. “But I don’t _want_ to be Grand Druid. I was concerned about our fate if others were chosen.”

He didn’t have to say “The Barrow King.” Everyone knew it. Everyone shared it.

“Nonetheless you have been chosen,” Windfall said plainly. “You shall lead us.”

Marcus shrugged. There was no real ceremony, no pomp and circumstance. It was done, and there was no more to say about it. Most of the druids would follow but some might decide otherwise. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t be druids.

The Barrow King quickly departed. He had perhaps not wanted to win so much as make a statement. He certainly had. 

White Rose went to Bolo. “Are you pleased or disappointed?”

Bolo considered saying something polite and meaningless but quickly dismissed that in favor of something honest. “I am relieved. When I came to this grove, I was worried about our faith and our future. I was worried for who would lead. But the trials have shown the virtues of the candidates not just to the judges or spectators, but to me as well. Indeed I have seen not only the worth of the others, but my own as well. My heart aches to do the good thing, as it always has. But perhaps that is not the best thing for a leader.”

White Rose smiled, and kissed him on the cheek. She wondered if he realized how his ears blushed now that he was an elf.

The druids lingered for a time longer, but the task was done. The order could now look forward.





OOC: 



The contest was an interesting experience. It was partly judged on points, and partly subjective. The finals were not actually fought out – it would have taken a lot of time late at night, and it was not particularly relevant. It would simply of determined who was in second place. In case you are interested, the score standings worked out as follows:



Bolo came in third, largely due to poor luck in the summoning contest. 



Thorn (Scorch) was in the middle of the pack.



Song of Storms (Valanthe) and Nader (Aethramyr) were tied. Whoever won the finals would have been in second. Given that neither had character sheets for the druids, they did a lot of improvising. Both, I thought, had some truly brilliant moments.



Marcus won, partly on points – he did well, if not best, in each contest. But more his outlook. He has a more neutral outlook than Bolo for instance, and the druids favored that. Even in the summoning contest, he only barely lost.


----------



## wolff96

That was a really cool competition, WizarDru. 

I'm curious as to whether or not _Argent_ was relieved that Bolo didn't win, or if that was only an in-character reaction. That would carry quite a bit of responsibility, after all...

By the way -- love the new avatar, Wiz.


----------



## WizarDru

wolff96 said:
			
		

> That was a really cool competition, WizarDru.
> 
> I'm curious as to whether or not _Argent_ was relieved that Bolo didn't win, or if that was only an in-character reaction. That would carry quite a bit of responsibility, after all...
> 
> By the way -- love the new avatar, Wiz.



 Thanks on both counts.  Puppet Angel may be one of the funniest things EVAR, to me. 

 Only Argent can tell you his reaction, honestly...but I think it's safe to say that when he got a good look at the job, he really didn't want it.  Bolo was definitely in it for the same reason that Marcus was...he didn't want the crazies to win. 

 This was a really interestesting set of sessions from a DM standpoint, although a lot of factors contributed to my not getting all of the material as polished as I would have liked.  Big Kudos go to Valanthe and Aethramyr for making do without printed character sheets and only vague descriptions of their talents.    It was interesting experiment, and there were some other things I considered doing, but didn't actually go forward with for a variety of reasons (such as the scavenger hunt, which sounded good on paper, but would have been a bad choice in-game, I realized).

 If folks are interested, I can blather on about the behind-the-scenes stuff.  At least, I can once I get home...'cuz my workday is over.


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## Argent Silvermage

wolff96 said:
			
		

> That was a really cool competition, WizarDru.
> 
> I'm curious as to whether or not _Argent_ was relieved that Bolo didn't win, or if that was only an in-character reaction. That would carry quite a bit of responsibility, after all...
> 
> By the way -- love the new avatar, Wiz.



I could have gone either way. Having Bolo be the leader of anything is a risky prospect. His intentions would always be for "good" and not all druids are good.

Marcus makes the most sense but don't think you've heard the last of this. I know a certain Faux-Elf that has plans for the Land of the Black Ice.


----------



## WizarDru

As promised, here is the first in a series of maps from the game.


This particular map goes back a LOOOONG ways, to the Land of Black Ice, during the party's expedition to liberate the beleagured inhabitants of that far-off and inhospitable place.

Keen observers may not the *V*olcano, *S*lave Pens, Isometril *M*ines, the Creche and *X* marks the secret cavern hideout of the Owl and her resistance.

The strange scrawlings over the map there are, if in color, a pale green...indicating the mineral vein discussed in the story.  Note the crags in which the Owl's HQ was located, and the hot springs at the base of the Volcano where the druid made his home.


----------



## WizarDru

Nifft said:
			
		

> A teaser for a teaser.
> 
> That's just great.
> 
> , -- N



 Heh.  It's a living. 

 Long overdue, but here it is, folks: one of the levels of the Lair of the Shadowtaker, specifically the Cistern.  This was originally part of the temple of Pelor, before it had been turned into a deathmaze by the Shadowtaker and his get.  Enjoy.


----------



## WizarDru

The sage consulted the map laid out before her, as she had a dozen times before. Her eyes scanned the browned, decaying parchment, translating the elvish characters into modern elvish, the modern elvish to the common tongue, and finally the common tongue into code. It was incredibly boring work, but her nerves were nevertheless on edge. Yaleth knew the import of their meaning.  "_What have you found, mistress?_"

  She continued to scribe, ignoring her charge. The boy was knowledgeable enough, it was true...but he lacked patience. He would learn in time...if time did, in fact, remain to them. The room fell silent, filled only with the continual scrawlings of pen to parchment. The boy, wise enough to know the difference between being ignored and not being heard, remained silent. He remembered some lessons, then. Confident he had been kept waiting long enough, she spoke.

  "_Something important, young Javril. Something that our allies must know about. Your master gave you into my charge for just such an eventuality. It will fall to you to bring them this news._"

 "_I'm not young, mistress.  I'm probably fifty years your senior, I'll bet._"  The boy's brow furrowed, distorting the symbol embossed there.

  "_In the passing of seasons, that is true.  But among your own kind, you remain young....and so my apprentice you shall stay._"

  "_Is it about my master?  ...What you found, I mean?_" The boy leaned forward, virtually falling over in the process. The sad hope written on his face was painful to see. He loved his master as a child loves his grandfather. There was no reservation...his love for his master was unconditional. But the longer he was away from him, the more he could turn himd to little else.

  "_No...I am afraid not,_" she sighed.  "_This is a map of the Flanaess, as it was many years past. It is older than us, by far. Few can remember when the world looked thus, save you master and his ilk. See here: there were but four kingdoms in those times...save for the lands held by the Ur-Flan. Look closely. What do you see?_"

  The boy came closer to regard the scrolls. His eyes scanned them, noting where each Kingdom began and ended. As his hungry eyes devoured the page, she in turn examined him. His hunger for knowledge and his ego prevented him from giving up too quickly, so she let him stare. Eventually, she saw the light flicker in his eyes, and she smiled.

  "_The __Sea__ of __Aerdy__!  It's not here!  Just this place marked 'Arissa'._"  There was a pause, as he processed the name.  He suddenly lot out a loud '_GASP'_.  "_The Four Kingdoms!  This is a map of the Four Kingdoms!"_

  "_Indeed it is.  And see that black mark....there?"  _The boy nodded agreement.  "_This is the place you find the DeathVent. This is where the final push began, and the Fall of Arissa gushed up like black bile, poisioning the very land around it. The living dead rose up from that place._"

  The boy's eyes went to her face, once more. She pretended not to notice. The Spire business had left her scarred, permanently...and sometimes she still felt the pain. She didn't blame him for being aware of it. But still she hated it's presence. Some of Gelban's finest allies had healed her, but it came back, again and again. She feared what that meant.

  "_But it's under the ocean, now?  How could that happen, mistress?_"

  "_The same way that a fertile land becomes a vast desert, I suppose. Powerful, malignant magic. I suspect the use of the binders. In fact, I suspect one of the great points of contention, perhaps THE point of contention between the elves and the drow, were the disposition of those items. I suspect the Storm Lords had designs of their own for them, while the other elves sought to contain what they had wrought."_

  The boy nodded, though clearly he didn't see what any of that had to do with more recent events. Chronologically older, he may be, but he was just as impatient as any human apprentice a tenth of his age. He was dedicated, though, and a fine lad, by all accounts. His master always chose his students well. She regarded him fully, patience in her eyes.

  "_The Deathvent, as it was named, is one of the passages to the Underdark, that horrible expanse that passes beneath the civilized, logical world. It is a place of madness. That the Drow chose it as their home tells much about them. To my knowledge, it remains unsealed, though there they may have been collapses. How deep it goes, I cannot say._"

  "_But what is that to us, mistress?  Is it part of the reason my master asked you to watch over me?_"

  Yaleth swallowed, and tried to think of an answer. The boy would have a hard time understanding the truth, and to tell him would certainly cause him worry, and perhaps far worse. She did know that the boy was far safer here. There was no benefit to tell him that Veluna would, very soon, be a fortress. Like so many places, she was sure. The boy would grasp part of it, but she hoped not all. She left the Brotherhood's tower little these days....ever since the Spire. Without meaning to, she shuddered at a percieved chill, despite the warmth of the room. The old panic entered her thoughts. _Where was he?  WHERE?  Was he hunting her, even now?_ 


  [calm]
​ [.calm.]
​ [..calm..]
​ [...find the center...]


​ She hadn't realized that she'd squeezed her eyes shut until she now relaxed and opened them. Javril stared at her, curiously. He was not truly used to humans, yet. He would have recognized the rituals of purity, but she had learned from a different master, and the earth was not her element. She was not so marked, nor was the one who taught her. It might a long time before she earned her mark of Air...if ever. Absently, she noticed Javril was still waiting for a reply.

  "_Bring me those sheets, lad.  The ones from last night's roc._"  Javril did as he was asked, bringing her a set of rolled parchments.  She bade him open them.  "_What do you see, boy?_"

  "_The druid Marcus reports increased tidal activity in the __Sea__ of __Aerdy__," _he reported, reading from the first missive.  He failed to notice her smirk.  That man was no druid.  She waved him on.  "_The Cleric, Prestwyck, reports that the Sea Barons have been mobilizing ships, although his agents do not know why or what their destination is. He suspects the Brotherhood is involved....is he daft, mistress? Of course we are!_"

  "_No, Javril...the *other* Brotherhood._" 

  "_Oh._"

  "_Continue, if you please._"

  "_There's something from a woman named Gota? Is this scratch what passes for writing in Greyhawk? She says that the Cambion is gone...and she doesn't know how long. What does *that* mean?"_

_ "It means that we're in a great deal of trouble."_

  “_What do you mean, mistress?_”

  “_Nothing, boy, I’m just tired,” _she said, rubbing her temples. By her oath, she was tired. She wasn’t normally this easily distracted. Her face ached, but she ignored it. “_Continue._”

  “_Well…_,” the boy began hesitantly.  He was somewhat unnerved by the new and her reaction, she supposed.  “_This agent in Veluna says that no ship are allowed in or out, except the sea elves.  This note is little more than a scrawl…a *dwarven* scrawl, I might add, saying that the mines appear to be safe, for now. And this note claims that the ruins have been inspected, and other than a few rogue apes…? Err…other than a few rogue..apes…there has been no sign that the dragons didn’t do a thorough job. A job of what, mistress?_”

  “_Of cleaning up a particular unpleasant mess, which is why it concerns us. For hundreds of years, that’s all we’ve dedicated ourselves to doing._”

  “_Will I, mistress?_”

  “_It is unusual, but not unheard of, Javril. Our order was founded to prevent the recurrence of what happened before. We were born out of the ashes of the __Sea__ of __Dust__, burdened with survivor’s guilt. When we locked away the binders, the two surviving kingdoms locked themselves away, leaving us only this tower as a reminder of our task. Few elves have ever joined our ranks, for we are a painful reminder of the past that many would sooner forget. It is the rare member of your kind who finds common cause with us, any longer.”_

  Her scars felt inflamed, again. A pain like a toothache shot through her skull, from her eyes to her jaw. She nearly fell over from the sudden rush of pain, but regained herself. The boy was beyond concerned, from the look on his face, and actively worried. It couldn’t be, could it? The tower couldn’t be breached, could it? Could she take that chance?

  Her eyes ripped around the room…the time for subtlety was past. She grabbed a sack sitting on her chair and reached into. Drawing forth a Iit torch, clearly to the boy’s surprise, she shoved it in his free hand. She drew forth another object, and tossed it to Javril. The boy caught the curious book by surprise, large but light to carry. It was all he could do to clasp the papers he already had and the book to his chest, while keeping the torch away from them.

  “_BIND!_” she yelled, and the papers began disappearing, magically sucked into the book.  Smartest thing she’d ever devised, that.  “_Head to the circle room and don’t stop!__Do you understand, Javril?  Head to the circle room, and go!  Try a less populous city for a start.  Your trip begins NOW._  ”

  The boy nodded mutely. He had been preparing for travel, but in a day’s time, not now. Luckily, he had already prepared a travel kit. Confused but cowed, he quickly donned his prized haversack, loaded with many unneeded things. She vacillated between hurrying him and worrying him, fidgeting nervously. As he placed the book in his pack, she checked the hallways. No sign of anyone. That was unusual, and only served to make her more nervous. She turned and saw the boy was finished, and she ushered him out the door into the wide, curving corridor. As an afterthought, she grabbed the bag she had produced the everlasting torch from.

  There were doors and stairwells curving away in either direction, a testimony to the labyrinthine nature of the SilentTower. She pointed the boy to the stairwell, and told him to make quickly for the circle room. It should be safe enough, yet, she was certain. Javril stopped at the top of the nearest stairwell leading to the student’s halls below, concern upon his face.

  “_What is it, boy?  Go now, it’s time to leave!_” she ordered, exasperated.

_“There’s a fire in your workshop, mistress…we can’t just leave it!_ ”

 Icy talons clutched at her heart. Her head snapped around to regard her crafting room, with its magical research projects left strewn about. The window was open! She was a fool. What the boy had thought was smoke was a mist, seeping in from the outside. Yaleth heard an unearthly laugh emanate from it, and nearly fainted. HE WAS HERE.

  “_RUN! RUN, NOW!_” she commanded.  “_Let no one stop you!  GO!_”  

  She didn’t wait to see if the boy obeyed.  She kept a spell memorized for such an occasion: the most powerful she knew.  “_*Burn, damn you*._” It unleashed in the room, and the resulting explosion knocked her backwards off of her feet. Amidst the acrid stench of burnt chemicals, she could see little. It was a wonder she wasn’t hurt badly. That wouldn’t do much against HIM, though. She had bought enough time to run. 

  She ran.

  The boy had listened, and was well ahead of her.  In her mind she heard HIS voice.  

  “*Where are you going, my wife?  Where is the kiss for your lord and master?*” If he could speak in her mind, then her wards were useless against him. He had become, if possible, more powerful. He heard his voice in her mind, and her imagination gave it a mocking tone. She remembered his voice all too well…and his ‘kiss’.

  “_You’re not my lover and I serve no master.  Go back to your grave, fiend._” She felt strangely calm, all of a sudden. All the time dreading his return, and now she was free of it. He was here. Now she had other things to fear.

  Almost absent-mindedly, she realized that she and the boy had reached the room with her teleport circle. She immediately realized their mistake. They should have used the public transport room, not her private teleport circle. They had known she would come here. The boy was frozen in place, staring at the assembled shadowy figures that blocked their path. Some were students of hers…are they had been when they were still alive. Fresh spawn, now. How long had he been here?

  She reached to her belt and fumbled for the rod that was there. She focused her energy through it and unleashed two fireballs at the mockeries of her pupils. They cowered and ran from the fiery bursts. She shoved Javril forward. 

  “_Use the Circle, Boy!  GO!_”

  “_But what about you, mistress?  You will die here if you don’t come!_”  The boy was near to tears.  Fifty years her elder, indeed.  He had never walked into darkness, before…not like this.

  “_I won’t die here today, _ghlaseth_!  NOW, GO!_” she yelled, emphasizing her position with the Draconic term for student. The boy ran, uttered the word and teleported instantly. She hoped that he would be safe, and would reach the kobold in time. But she needed to deactivate the circle, or they would just follow them. Her mind raced. A desperate plan formed, but it had the potential to be suicidal. Very unlike her, really. She felt for the hole in her pocket, and was glad when she found it still there.

  “*Dear, sweet WIFE.  You STAYED,*” came the voice. The spawn had returned, keeping their distance. Partly for fear of her, and partly for fear of their master. He was engulfed in shadow, and his profile was different, somehow…but his eyes still burned like fire from the shadows. His presence still frightened her…but she had a task before her. She wouldn’t be weak. Not again.

  “_I stayed for you, actually,” _she said, trying to sound confident. She waited, as he walked closer. His swagger was hypnotic, his eyes moreso. She could feel his desire, his lust for her. For all living things. It sickened her that she, in some small kind, could not help but feel attracted to him. Such was his power.

  “*Oh, so? What do you hope to do, then? Cast an Ice Storm upon me? Polymorph me, perhaps? You will find I am even less inclined to accept your arcane meanderings than even before. Feel free to destroy your children, if it so please you.*” He gestured at the spawn, as if to emphasize their former lives and mock her. She did not care, as long as he strode forward. And he did. Just a few more steps….

  “_No, I don’t think so. I can’t hurt you. You’re too strong…we both know that. I would have to be insane to think I could stop you._”

  “*Surely you don’t surrender so, easily?  I am disappointed, of course.  You are right, but I am disappointed.*”

  “_Luckily, I wasn’t planning on stopping you._” she said. She couldn’t stop him…but she hadn’t been lying about the insanity. Before he could stop her, she reached in her pocket and produced…the hole. She held the small black circle aloft, as if it were a weapon. The vampire spawn, which had been about to surge forth at her, stopped in their tracks. Gulthias began to laugh.

  “*Ahah hah hah hah!  Oh, now I AM disappointed, dear wife.  What will you do, capture me and hope I suffocate?*”  

_“No...I just need to tidy up a bit.  SAY GOODBYE, GULTHIAS!” _ she suddenly screamed, and threw the hole into the bag. The vampire lord stopped laughing, at first confused as to what she had done, and then horrified when he understood. He yelled something, then, but she couldn’t make it out over the sudden rip in the material world. She saw the world slow down, as if time had stopped. Gulthias was trying to turn, to run away….but he would never make it in time. The rift had him. 

 As she felt her body pulled into the hole, she lamented skipping breakfast. There wasn’t going to be much by way of food where they were going.

  And then they were gone.








 The SSOM game resumes later this week, with the beginning of “*Down Among the Dead Men*”.   Time to kick some undead in the Junk.


----------



## Len

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Time to kick some undead in the Junk.



I thought undead were immune to junk-kicking.


----------



## WizarDru

Len said:
			
		

> I thought undead were immune to junk-kicking.



It's a new feat in the Eberron setting.

*Kick Undead Junk [Meepite]*
_You can lay down the smack on arrogant undead._

*Prereq*: You've been ticked off by the legions of undeath once too often.

*Special*: Any time you normally would just lay down the smack, you can now bitch-slap the undead and call them Sally.  

*Normal*: Undead don't have junk which you can kick, and normally don't answer to the name "Sally".


----------



## pogre

Enjoyed seeing the picture of you guys in action. You all look like a fun, friendly bunch. I really like that game room. You know, the one thing that surprised me a bit was all of the laptops cooking on the table. You need to clear those to make way for Scorch's scenery  Seriously, I assume they are to speed up epic play - how do they help? What are you running on them?

I'm sure Zad is keeping notes to update this work


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## dravot

When we're not playing the alpha campaign, usually the only one with a laptop is the one taking game notes.  It's definitely an alpha characteristic.

 In my case, I'm running Dravot and two cohorts (Zira and Thorkeld), and there are too many pieces of paper to constantly track what's going on.

 The other thing is with enough buffs running it's just plain easier to track those buffs (and their bonus types) using the laptop.


----------



## Zad

I only use the laptop for this campaign. It's a combination of taking notes (which I absolutely need it for - that's just a personal habit that it's easier for me to type than write) and running Kayleigh. 

I keep all my characters in spreadsheet form but printouts are usually adequate. Initially I started using it to keep track of buffs and the ripple effects. These days I have magic items with most kinds of bonuses but I use it to do math for me.

Up to six attacks, which ones hit, was I within 30 feet, were there crits, add up the damage, add fire damage....  it can take some time and I don't like to slow things. So I roll d20s and it will do most of the rest for me. 

(Hm. On second thought I lied. I use it for Avonshar too - juggling info on a half dozen astral constructs was tricky.)


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## WizarDru

pogre said:
			
		

> Enjoyed seeing the picture of you guys in action. You all look like a fun, friendly bunch.



 Look can be deceiving: they're an evil, conniving bunch. Can't be trusted to roll over and die like good PCs should. All their babbling on about this spell doing this and that bonus doing that...you get the idea.

  (_for those who are wondering what Pogre is talking about, you can see the Meepites in action in this thread over here.)  Of course, now that I think about it, how did you take that shot?_

 The laptops started to bloom more and more often when I installed the wireless, of course. Down in the basement, I tend not to use my laptop, what with the desktops being right there. It's less a function of difficulty at high-level than of speed: as Zad mentioned, there's a lot numbers floating about. DM Genie and Sovelior's SRD make things much faster for me...so fast that I rarely crack the books for certains rules calls. However, their prolifieration is more than I expected: when we started, there weren't any laptops around the table: four years on...well, you can see what I mean. 

 That game room is my pride and joy. D&D setup on Friday night and then Dance Dance Revolution pads setup on Saturday day; Saturday night back to D&D minis, while I play Unreal Tournament. It is my bliss. Most recent addition is the shelving unit for storing the minis and dwarven forge materials. Scorch has a much better system for them, but I'm able to get minis in a moments notice, now, thanks to Valanthe's meticulous sorting of same.


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## Zad

*Down Among the Dead Men - Chapter 1*

*Down Among the Dead Men*



*Chapter 1*

*OOC Notes:*

Experience is 1456 for 22nd, 1150 for 23rd.

Here are some bits of information that came out over the course of the night. I’m including them here for historical purposes and because it may become significant later. 

Aethramyr tried to teleport to the Lendores but could not, nor could he dream his way there. He spoke to an avatar of Sehanine who reassured him that the Lendores was defending itself but it should be fine. The solar in question was touched by a profound saddness that showed it did not escape the war unscathed.

The Shadow Plane was mostly the same except that strange crystals had started growing out of the ground. They were faintly luminous but their light was not being drawn towards the Spectral Citadel like all other light.

There are miles of undead still surrounding Rauxes waiting for some kind of signal. They have however abandoned Kalstrand and their purposes there.

Lord Gelban received reports that forces of Iuz are on the move being lead by some of the Boneheart. They are moving with some plan but they are being deceptive so as to hide their true purpose, using the excellent roads in those areas.

*This Week’s Adventure:*

It had been some ten days since heaven and hell warred on the Prime. Things were starting to return to normal at the palace, but there was a tension in the air. It was a feeling of dread, where you dare not believe all is well and wait tensely for the other boot to drop. The elves never have been one to adapt to change well, and this was far too radical and far too fast for us. I’ve learned that an elf can adapt to a fast paced life, if forced to. But even I have trouble seeing what I see some days.

But setting all this aside, something else was amiss. There were too many Brightflame knights scurrying around. Too many couriers. Too many preparations being made. This was not the signs of a battle ending, but the signs of one beginning. Someone was preparing for a campaign.

Prince Melf was in the palace but he had not appeared publicly. The Brightflame Knights answered to him in times of peace, which this ostensibly was. (I have trouble telling any more. The Queen spent much of her time with the Binder, but I did not know why. Whatever Melf was doing, it had to be with her approval for there was far more military force involved than just the Brightflame Knights. Some discreet inquiries gave me a sense of the scope of the effort, but no information on what the objective was.

Despite all the recent events, nobody had said a word to me, and I wasn’t about to be left on the sidelines uninformed and unable to act. I started with Onselven. 

But to my surprise and his considerable annoyance, he had no idea what was happening. He too knew of the preparations and that Prince Melf was the primary actor, but he knew no more of the purpose than I. He was however keenly interested in anything I might learn on this, once he realized I was of a mind to pursue it further.

I attempted an audience with the Queen but I was turned away. This only deepened my concerns. It would have been far easier if my monarchs had chosen to share with me, but if they did not wish to, then I would find out on my own. 

Of course that wasn’t likely to be very popular. Especially when I did it very loudly.

I stopped the first Brightflame Knight I saw and asked him, loudly and in the hallway, what they were preparing for. He was immediately overcome with shock that I would ask in so public a place. That gave way to discomfort as he sought a way to evade my question. I pressed him hard but in the end, he would only say “I follow where my Prince leads.”

Oh well. I hadn’t expected an answer anyway. I went off looking for more knights, and each time I found one I repeated the inquiry. Within an hour, it was apparent that word had spread and they were actively avoiding me. I turned this into an entertaining game of hide-and-seek, using a few things I’d picked up from Valanthe to rattle them even further by suddenly appearing and asking more questions.

It only took a couple hours of this before a page found me. 

“Lady Kayleigh Ladanna’al? I am instructed to bring you to His Highness Prince Melf.”

I smiled. See how easy that was? 

I was brought to another converted library, after passing through an assortment of the Fey Mysteries to be cleansed. I debated just walking through but then again I always did, and I hadn’t found anything yet that was so dire that it warranted ignoring the monarchy’s wishes. The room was trimmed in white wood with the walls elaborately painted to create the illusion of being in the forest. Maps with wooden markers were spread out over various tables – none of the magical maps seemed to be here. Several high ranking knights and nobles conferred, centered around a tall, thin elf. He was somewhat pale and thin, and wore a black cloak despite the warmth in the room. He was gesturing over a series of maps that detailed the general area around Celene, the Nyr Dyv and Greyhawk. His voice was surprisingly deep for his frame as he motioned over a number of markers placed near the Bright Coast. 

I glanced around the room quickly, scanning for other Champions. There was but one - Vikorond Stormbow, whom we rescued from captivity in the Lich Queen’s palace. He nodded at me as he listened to the Prince.

When Melf finished, he waved off the group and turned to me. “Lady Kayleigh?”

I curtsied. “Your Highness. You wished to see me?” I showed a small smirk at that.

“While you may not believe it, you could have come to me directly. You are a Champion. You are a valued member of your society – do not de-value yourself.”

I wanted to be polite but frank as well. “Your Highness, had it been made clear to me what was threatening Celene, I would not have to inquire quite so brazenly. I made discreet inquires and was rebuffed. I therefore took a more… dramatic route. I worry greatly for our nation and I do not wish to be left on the sidelines, uninformed and unaware.”

If Melf saw any reason to my point, he didn’t show it. But it wasn’t required. My message was heard – I do not wish to be kept in the dark. My hope was that I could also show why it would benefit him to share with me, aside from just avoiding further annoyance.

He said “I will answer your question before you ask the pissboy, as I understand he is otherwise occupied. I have information from an ally that the Mak is planning to make a move as a part of a greater alliance with enemies of our nation. We intend to strike first.”

Down to business at last. “What allies, Your Highness?” The value of the information was revealed in part by its source. 

The prince agreed. “I have long been… I wouldn’t say ‘friends’ but associated with the Circle of Eight. Mordenkainen informs me that the Mak is planning a move. It might be Iuz motivating him, but something has happened and he is rallying his troops. Iuz has troops moving in several different regiments. A good portion are heading southwards over towards Furyondy, or they may try to go right through Veluna. Whether the Mak intends to attack directly or to isolate us by attacking our neighbors is unclear. Nyrond used to be a staunch defender against Iuz but after the Greyhawk wars they can scarcely feed themselves.” He gestured for me to follow as we walked around examining several maps.

“Your Highness, this could relate closely to Chavram. I have information that he has gathered many allies including some from the Underdark. He has moved beneath the earth these past months. His actions could also explain Iuz’ response. He is gathering his forces and plans a summit soon, after which he will move.”

I went on to detail Chavram’s recent activities as related by Dravot’s brother. Melf was surprised to learn that Chavram has four of the binders but he agreed that the abjuration binder was likely in his possession.

“I am convinced that all of this is either caused by or in response to Chavram. But what he plans, I do not know.” Melf nodded at me, taking in this new information. It seemed I’d managed to show him the value of my inclusion.

He must have been thinking something similar. “You should know that I am not taking any Champions with me, save Vykrond. I’m doing this *in case I’m wrong.* I do not wish Celene’s defense to suffer if I am in error. You alone are worth an entire regiment – you can turn a battle single-handedly, and thus I do not wish to deny Celene that in case I am playing into a trap. Besides, I’m sure a war with mere orcs is not a wise use of your skills.” He showed the first sign of a smile since I’d entered.

“Oh Your Highness, I assure you after all I’ve been through, a war with orcs sounds heavenly.” I shrugged longingly. “But more likely my path will take me into Chavram’s. Sire, I believe it would be wise if we kept each other informed. I come across information from very unique paths and much of it may be of benefit to you.”

He didn’t even try to argue. “Indeed. You will not be able to reach me directly but you can send messaging spells to Vykrond. There is much here that is hidden.”

The audience was over. The Prince had surprised me, and I think I him as well. But I am sure it will be to both our benefits that it happened.

With that done, I was left with some rather unpleasant business. Something I most certainly did not want to do, but there was no helping it.

I had to go to Kobold Country. 

I had secured some reagents from one of the new mages to use in the creation of my bow in exchange for some other materials. I had the materials now, and just had to deliver them. But of course that meant doing something I was loathe to do. But there was no point putting it off, so I teleported to Ru’un Khazai.

If anything the activity there had intensified since the last visit. Since the landlords had returned and not immediately evicted everyone, there was now a certain level of approval that had everything moving ahead at a full gallop. I ignored the stir my arrival created and went on my errand. It wasn’t so much that teleportation was unexpected here, but that it was me in particular. Apparently word of my… dissatisfaction with the situation had gotten around. Still the Queen had not yet ordered me to destroy the drow here, and until she did I was willing to ignore them.

I had just finished my errand when there was an explosion on a nearby hill. I saw two people running down the hill – a human leading an elven boy in grey robes. Even from a distance I could see the symbol of Earth on the boy’s forehead. 

Another explosion went up from the house sending fragments of a shield guardian fifty feet into the air. The two were almost at the bottom of the hill when a wall of force sprung up in front of them. Not being able to see it the man went headlong into it. Then I finally made out a shape coming from the smoke consuming the hut. It seemed to be some kind of golem but it looked more like a product of Mechanus or the Egg of Coot. It had a human-esque face but looked as tho extra parts had been molded on after its initial creation. 

Dravot teleported close to it and it said “I really am very sorry about this,” just before it smashed him. There was a blast of thunder that shook the hillside but Dravot seemed unfazed.

Then a second one of a different design came from the house.

Whatever else these were, they were intelligent, and apparently not very happy to be doing what they were doing. A strange game followed next – as we moved the man and boy out of harm’s way, a force bubble would spring up to contain them, whereupon we magically moved them again. The creatures themselves were very hardy and almost unaffected by our weapons, save for ShadowCut. Finally Scorch teleported the pair to one of the warded areas of the fortress, figuring they were somehow magically detecting their prey. 

The two machine creatures stopped suddenly. One said to the other “The mage seems to have teleported the boy away. I’ve lost track of him. Still have to find him and kill him of course.” 

Dravot attempted to _implode_ one of them, but the creature evaded the effect. Strangely it said “Oh my. That was a very good try. You almost got me! Keep trying.” It wasn’t mocking or sarcastic but instead was completely sincere.

Denied their quarry, they seemed very upset. “Now we’ve failed,” one said. “We’ve failed, then we failed in our failure.” We tried to talk to them but they seemed torn between politeness and their directives. They disappeared off the plane and went back to wherever they came from.

We sat down with the pair. The human was a member of the Silent Brotherhood. Scorch was aware of him and believed he was here largely to spy on Scorch. But the boy was the stranger element. He was the Silverring’s apprentice. Those creatures had followed him through several teleportation circles. Most likely they wanted the papers he was carrying. 

He related the circumstances of his sudden departure from the Brotherhood monastery. He did not know who Gulthias was, but when he uttered the name, the silence could have been cut with a blade. The boy had no idea what had happened and he assumed Yaleth was dead. When we asked him about the items she carried, the answer became clear. A questioning glance to Scorch confirmed what I had feared – the planar rift that she’d caused would most likely not have killed her or Gulthias. We’d have to finish that job ourselves if given the chance.

Since the papers seemed to be the key, we examined them carefully. There were reports from all over the Flanness. Many indicated how the movements of the drow and koa toa seemed to suggest there was a major meeting to be held soon. An ancient map of the Four Kingdoms showed the location of something called the Deathvent – an accessway to the Underdark under one of the fallen elven kingdoms. The location was underwater off the eastern coast, and there were reports of many strange happenings in that area.

One note was unusual in that it was written in three different styles and seemed to shift in mid-sentence. The writer was exploring the area and talks of the undead horrors that have been spewed up in preparation for the meetings. He walked amongst them but sooner or later would be noticed. The change in writing and context made me suspect it was The Tatterdamelion, and Dravot agreed. The second page of the note said that the ghost (Bellamy one assumes) was trying to keep an eye on Orcus’ forces. So far the massing continues but has slowed down. 

Reports also indicate that certain former Grey Guild members have re-appeared including Prophyon and the Burning Skin. Scorch indicated he had been approached by Prophyon but not the Burning Skin. The report indicated they believed they were both given a True Resurrection by someone.

And one report said simply that the cambion has disappeared. 

Well that wasn’t good. I contacted Lord Gelban immediately. “Are you aware that the cambion has disappeared from beneath Castle Greyhawk?”

[Astute readers will recall the second adventure of the company wherein they were sent into the castle to feed a piece of the legendary fruit to the cambion trapped there.]

He replied “How is it that you learn these things just as I do?”

I tried to avoid being too glib when I said “You have no idea how happy it makes me when you say things like that.”

Lord Gelban would be investigating of course, but surely this was linked to the movements of Iuz. Iuz of course cared nothing for his offspring but he was powerful. 

It was then I remembered the link between the cambion and Lord Gelban’s daughter. Her sickness was the cause of our first adventure, and our second mission was to give the cure to the cambion as well. The two were linked in some way. The cambion was half fiend, the girl half-dragon, so it seemed unlikely it was by common parentage.

But Lord Gelban never told us the details of how they were linked or why. And we never had cause to ask until now.

So I asked. 

Lord Gelban hesitated. “I would prefer not to discuss it over the scales.”

“That is probably wise. We should meet soon then.”

Lord Gelban’s reply was quiet and tense. “Very soon.”


----------



## WizarDru

Oh, and for those who are curious, the beings the Meepites fought are known as The Failed.....though the meepites will realize a few things about them that will make them more familiar.   If folks are interested, I can post their stats in that other thread. 

 One of the more amusing points of the battle was when the Failed started being polite and apologizing prefusely.  The meepites found this profoundly disturbing: primarily because historically, when a monster starts talking smack, they school him badly.  Creatures who don't, often result in a nasty battle.  This was less of a fight, and more of a tactical exercise.  The Failed weren't terribly interested in battling the party, and the party almost spent more time _getting_ to the battle than actually having it.


----------



## Nifft

Dru, could you perchance post stats (or ideas behind) these newest opponents in The Thread That Must Not Be Named?

Thanks, -- N


----------



## WizarDru

Nifft said:
			
		

> Dru, could you perchance post stats (or ideas behind) these newest opponents in The Thread That Must Not Be Named?
> 
> Thanks, -- N



 Your wish is my command.  Their stat-blocks can be found right here.

 It goes without saying that this off-limits to PCs...but I guess I just said it, anyways.


----------



## Zad

*Down with the Dead Men - Chapter 2*

*Down with the Dead Men - Chapter 2*

*OOC Notes:*

Exp is 1000 for 23rd, 1500 for 22nd.

This Week’s Adventure:
Why did the Deathvent have to be underwater? It couldn’t have been on a mountain? Or in a deep cave perhaps? Maybe in a desert? No. It had to be underwater.

I hate being wet. Unless it’s a bath of course.

Aside from my general displeasure at being soggy, being underwater poses a number of other tactical problems. Little things like “moving” and “breathing” leap to mind, to say nothing of the fact that some “fighting” seems likely. While there are any number of magics available to handle the issue of breathing, most of them don’t seem to help much when it comes to moving about. Some quick research revealed a magical pearl that would address both issues, and we set about acquiring a few. In that effort I went with Bolo to visit the First Ash, glad for a chance to offer my thanks personally. 

Windfall was there – a druid of Bolo’s acquaintance. He knew of the Deathvent, but they refer to it as the Sundering of the Ur’Flan. Most wildlife avoids the area. The creatures there are usually dangerous things coming out of the vent. Between the information offered by Windfall, as well as the maps we had and Chavram’s old notes, we were able to discern a fairly precise location.

Reports were that the creatures in the area were erecting defenses and several air bubbles. There are long tubes from which dangerous eels would shoot out to devour their prey, as well as koa toa and others on patrol. There are also a great many of The Drowned. The signs indicated that the drow were in the area but so far had not been seen.

We were reviewing our strategy when Dravot received a sending from Prestwick in Greyhawk.

_Dravot! The Living Saint is in danger! Tried to stop him, but he would not listen! The judges are chasing him and mean to banish him!_

The Living Saint in this case meant Aedan, the boy we found guarding the Light of Reason. I’m not sure why the Judges would want to banish him however. Turns out the confusion was more on the part of the sender. Of course we wasted no time considering it but instead teleported to Greyhawk. 

And I should note that it was not without some degree of wariness. We had not been in Greyhawk openly or as a group since… well since quite some time ago. Since Lord Gelban was captured, if I recall rightly. And in the intervening time, the Greyhawk Dragons had appeared. They were some out-of-the-ordinary type of dragons and seemed to have placed the city under their protection, or martial law depending on your viewpoint. I wasn’t so much worried about an outright attack by them as I was just mindful of their presence. They had a reputation for suddenly appearing very quickly when there was trouble, so I was sure they would be near by the time we got there.

Outside the temple was a chaotic scene. A carriage was overturned, and a fruit stand smashed to bits. Standing outside the temple was Prestwick and Meltorannan. The Judge was standing silently but was surely linked to his fellow judges. In the ethereal I could see the hazy outlines of two more judges nearby. Those two suddenly flew off in the direction of a great deal of noise.

Dravot approached Meltorannan, who seemed almost eager to relate details despite his dispassionate appearance. “The boy took the giant and one of the Forsaken with him. We told him he had made his choice. If the Judges banish the Forsaken one, he will be destroyed.”

The Forsaken would surely be the group of celestials that had hidden Brindinford and were not included when the new deal was struck. The Judges would see them as an unauthorized presence but since he was no longer a servant of Pelor, he would be destroyed rather than simply banished. Meltorannan clearly did not want that to happen but was bound by the rules. After hearing this, I was convinced I saw relief on his face. He could not act, but we could and he was hoping we would resolve this with more compassion than he could.

Sir Ferris was moving through Greyhawk, and the trail was so obvious that even a dwarf could follow it. He was managing to avoid people and property in the temple district, but he was fast closing on the market district and casualties would be harder to avoid in those tight quarters. We set off in pursuit – Dravot was on the flying carpet with Valanthe while the rest of us came at a slower pace. But as we moved, I noticed a merchant had been watching us intently from quite a distance away. As we moved, so too did he, ducking into an alleyway.

A moment later, a dragon rose over the buildings. It was invisible and heading in the same direction. It’s approach and altitude suggested it was observing rather than becoming involved. But while the dragon’s presence was anticipated, what I had not expected was the other observers on the scene. Tiny undead disembodied eyeballs were floating above the city. Whoever used these diseased things had a great many of them.

They would wait. We started moving through the city following the trail of Sir Ferris. Scorch was initially in the form of a Solar but was quickly challenged by the Judges and he reverted to something less offensive to them. As we closed in on Sir Ferris, we could see a number of Judges following. But it was obvious they were not trying to catch up – just to keep him in sight. It seemed that the Judges were giving us some small amount of room to resolve the situation rather than be forced to destroy one who was formerly their own. Either of their own violition or at Meltorannan’s urging, they were giving us room.

The carpet caught up first unsurprisingly. Sir Ferris was barreling along as fast as he could while trying to be careful of innocents. His hands were cupped and surely Aedan and the solar were inside. Dravot attempted to jump and was saved by Valanthe before he made an embarrassing landing on the cobblestones below. Wisdom won out and Dravot instead asked the group to stop so they could talk. Aedan was hesitant, but he took Dravot at his word. He was rewarded for his faith when he saw the Judges slow their pursuit. They took positions surrounding the colossus, but did not approach. 

As for the solar, he was pale and shaken, and only partially conscious. He had no obvious wound but he was clearly afflicted with some malady. Dravot attempted to heal him but the warm light of the magic washed over him with no effect. It was almost as though he was out-of-bounds for that magic.

While Dravot ministered to the fallen solar, Scorch approached the Greyhawk dragon who was also observing the scene. The dragon was polite, and appeared to know who Scorch was all too well. He declined to give a name, saying it was forbidden for his kind. 

I shall therefore call him Stanley.

Stanley was not of a mind to interfere. I’m uncertain if he felt he lacked the power or if it was more out of courtesy or compassion that he only watched. In any case I appreciated his caution in the matter. At my request, Scorch asked if the eyeballs were something Stanley’s kind used to monitor the city. Stanley was unaware of them until they were pointed out and even then they were hard for him to discern. So after warning him, I began firing arrows to destroy them. It was bad enough we were sighted here – there was no reason to provide any more information.

Dravot tried another approach with the sickened solar, and let the light and power of Pelor flow gently into his patient. The solar responded to this – his eyes brightened and he became more coherent. Dravot repeated the ritual a few times and as the solar became more healthy, he also became less distinct and hard to perceive. The Judges began looking about as if trying to keep track of him. Whatever he had used to cloak himself until now apparently was working again.

The solar stood slowly and bowed deeply to Dravot. “You have my thanks, Saint. But you should not have risked yourself so for me.”

Dravot looked at him warmly. “You are a follower of Pelor. I could do no less.”

The solar bowed his head in shame. “I am not.”

Dravot just smiled. “You were once. That’s enough for me.”

“I betrayed His trust. And I would do it again. For that, I am unworthy.”

Dravot put a hand on the solar’s arm and spoke softly. “Pelor _forgives_ you. He understands why you did what you did. He asks for your return. He loves you now, as He always has. He has not turned his sight from you, nor cast you aside. You know Him. You know His love. Would He turn His sight from you? Or would He forgive you, and open His heart and welcome you home?”

The solar was not yet convinced but he was listening closely despite his tears. Dravot went on. “I love you. I thank you for what you did. What you did for _me_. And I love you for it and all that you sacrificed. But I cannot let you sentence yourself to walk forever in darkness.” Dravot waved at the distant Judges “Even these, your former brothers, love you. They too admire your sacrifice. They stay their hand, hoping for a miracle, for a second chance for you. They are bound to act but they do not. Because they love you.”

“And like the rest of us, Pelor loves you. Truly our love for you is but a reflection of His. I have stood before Him in all His grace and radiance. I have felt the touch of His love. For me, for you, for all creatures. He forgives you my brother. And He loves you.”

The solar slowly lifted his head, and started smiling despite the tears flowing freely from him. He released the cloak hiding him, and snapped into focus. But with it, his eyes brightened and were filled with a sense of joy and purpose that had been lacking before. A sense of peace returned to him. No, not peace. Faith.

Several of the Judges suddenly moved in. The solar just nodded softly to Dravot, and bent and kissed Aedan on the forehead in thanks. He stood tall as the Judges came, and they reached out and touched him gently and he vanished, returned to the fold.

A new dawn indeed.




PS: I lied about the elf porn


----------



## ThoughtBubble

I could have sworn I wrote this allready but... Dravot's speech nearly had me crying. That was very moving. Mass props for the cleric.


----------



## WizarDru

ThoughtBubble said:
			
		

> I could have sworn I wrote this allready but... Dravot's speech nearly had me crying. That was very moving. Mass props for the cleric.



 Propz also need to be offered up to our poor author, who had to find a way to reflect an obscenly high Diplomacy score in story terms. 

 This whole chapter was short on combat, as there was no real expectation that battle would be joined, but long on use of powers and problem-solving.  Saving the solar was much more than a question of casting a healing spell, as he was damaged _metaphysically_, instead of physically.  A running gag in the game is that when something happens or is presented that is sufficiently cosmic or weird, it is described requiring levels of alienist if you want to fully understand it.  This was one of those situations.  Some obscenely high Knowledge:Religion and Knowledgelanes rolls were required to figure out the nature of the dillemma.

 It should also be noted that the situation was, at points, much more volatile than perhaps Kayleigh paints it.  Scorch played a game of chicken with the Judges, but backed down when they made it clear they weren't about to blink.

 Oh, and for the curious, Valanthe's magic carpet is a solid 3.0 hold-over, which is why it's capable of such lightning speeds, especially compared to 3.5s ultra-slow versions...it's 8x faster than the new models.  Must be due to emissions regulations, or something.


----------



## dravot

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Propz also need to be offered up to our poor author, who had to find a way to reflect an obscenly high Diplomacy score in story terms.



 Alas, it was quite sad.  I was pretty tired that night, and distracted by other things.  WizarDru gives me a great opportunity, and I'm like..."Uh...dude, Pelor says you can come home."

 WizarDru prudently saves my completely botched attempt at role-playing by asking for a diplomacy check.  I think my total was a 42 or a 44.

 Zad then cursed at me and said that he'd figure out something to make it compelling.  And he did.


----------



## Zad

> Dravot's speech nearly had me crying. That was very moving. Mass props for the cleric.



Wow. You just made my whole day. Thank you. It fell to me to make that one sell, and I'm glad you felt that moved by it.

As for the whole pruning thing, it was an option to make another thread but we figured it would be better to keep it all together. I think it makes life a little eaiser for people just joining the story, not to mention keeps the hit count preserved


----------



## Zad

*Down with the Dead Men - Chapter 3*

*Down with the Dead Men – Chapter 3*

*OOC Notes:*

Exp for 22 is 3600, for 23 is 2650. 

*This Week’s Adventure:*

We made some final tactical preparations before setting off for the Deathvent. Lord Gelban sent us a group of four bronze dragons for additional support, and the Temple of Wee Jas offered us fifteen tatterdemelions. Unfortunately we could only take ten due to problems transporting them all.

We skimmed across the surface of the sea flying by various means. (I should note that our draconic companions seemed to be rather put out by Scorch and Bolo taking dragon forms for the trip.) Even without a map, it would have been simple to find the Deathvent – we were heading into the teeth of a large, stationary storm with dark clouds and mounting winds. Here and there, dead fish floated in the choppy sea, their frequency increasing as we moved closer. The winds mounted steadily to the point where flying became difficult and we made the decision to move into the water.

I hate the water. I hate being wet. Of course that’s more in the “damp and sticky” kind of way. In this case being totally submerged creates a very different sensation. But there was no help for it and no point in dwelling on it.

As we descended, we could start to make out the contours of the ocean floor. It was a strange landscape and seemed more at home on another plane than it did here. The dim light made it all the more surreal. Coupled with the strange creatures (natural and otherwise) the entire scene made me hard pressed to believe I was still on the Prime.

In the distance I caught sight of a school of fish. Or so it seemed at first. When I looked harder, I could see something horrific – it was a school of disembodied hands, each swimming around with an eye attached. After the initial disgust, I realized these were just the first in what would surely be a series of scouts. Guided by the bronzes, we slipped lower in the water and went beneath them apparently unseen.

The patrols picked up. More schools of hands as well as squads of Drowned led by wights. They were many such groups but with so much territory to cover, there were many gaps in their lines. Combined with Dravot’s enchantment rendering us unseen to the undead, the gaps let us make steady progress.

The ocean floor gradually became littered with pieces of broken stonework. Most of it was marble with some other stones here and there. But with the stone, the water also became cooler and we saw less and less vegetation. Above us we started seeing dark shapes – rays on slow circling patrols. Some were eight feet across, but they were dwarfed by others that covered four times that span. As I watched them, I could start to make out faint glowing markings. There was definitely some kind of pattern to it but I couldn’t understand the meaning. I suspect they were in the service of the drow and the markings showed different individuals or squads.

We were swimming along the bottom and crested a rise and stretched out before us was the Deathvent. The terrain descended into a large bowl and in the middle was the gaping maw of the vent. Easily 500 feet across, the edge was rimmed with some kind of stone or dark metal. The tunnel itself descended at a shallow angle into darkness, but near the top were white-ish honeycomb structures. Surrounding the vent were large lava tubes, much as we’d been told to expect. They varied from ten feet across to upwards of sixty. Bubbles and steam showed there was some kind of volcanic activity in the area, and the water had a slightly sulfuric taste to it. 

At the edge of the drop was the wreckage of a sailing ship. It was the largest I’d ever seen, and according to Dravot was on the order of 400 years old and could carry two hundred men. I made a note of the location as a possible fall-back point. Off to the east was a structure. It was covered in moss and coral but the telltale signs of elven construction still showed through. It was some kind of ancient fortress, and while there were sentries dotted on the parapets, there was no other sign that the structure was in use. 

We continued creeping our way forward. Our discovery was inevitable, but we were determined to avoid it for as long as we could. Peering over a closer ridge, I could see the Deathvent sloped gradually at first, then suddenly descended sharply. Inside there were five globes of the whiteish stuff with tubes connecting them. Inside were undead moving around. I suspect this is the central hive or air bubbles that are being created for this meeting. Suddenly there was a flash of light from the central dome, and a beam of light shot off into the distance. Just after that, a wave of negative energy radiated out in all directions for miles. This second pulse came from the hive area but between the globes – perhaps in one of the tunnels. The magnitude of the effect was very small but it amazing for how far it reached.

To the north I saw two shapes hovering in the ethereal. It took me a moment before I realized they were Judges. Their reach extends to even here – something I found comforting.

Before I could debate talking to them, several of the nearby lava tubes shattered with a sharp crack. The tops fell away while the sides just exploded in slow motion in all directions. From one large tube, something began rising out of the opening. It snaked its way out and kept going and going, its rainbow scales shimmering in the dim light. As it came more fully into the water, I could see all manner of hooks and barbs stuck in its flesh – the remains of all those who had failed to destroy it. Finally the head spun around, her eyelids pulled back with hooks. One eye was missing and there was only a strange green glow in its place. She was a naga unlike any we’d seen. She tasted the water with her forked tongue and turned in our direction.

As she glared, the forms from the other lava tubes moved towards her. They were metallic and seemed like large lobsters, but moved in a mechanical precision. They took up positions circling her.

Many of us were _mind blanked_ but Dravot was not, and he could hear her voice in his mind. 

_Greetings. I am known as Shalthis Who Serves. Set to guard this place against your like. Thought I may not live through this day, it is my task to kill you if I can. You are the one they call Dravot?_

Dravot did not reply. Shalthis Who Serves arched one eyebrow slightly, and a storm of lightning exploded in our midst. The lightning was potent and she was a skilled wielder of magic. The electricity hit many of us, but was hardest on the tatterdemalions.

The creatures were about five hundred feet from us so it took some amount of time just for us to close the gap. My bow may as well be a sword for as well as it would work underwater so I was advancing carefully with the others while spells were exchanged at long range. Shalthis loosed another chain lightning, this one much more potent than the last one. Most of the tatterdemalions were destroyed and Bolo very nearly joined them. 

Dravot attempted a fire storm, which had only minor effect. In return, Shalthis tried to dispel the enchantments on Dravot but since he had none at the time, it was an amusingly wasted effort. Shalthis also brought many mirror images into being in her many-layered defense. 

But her primary defense was the other creatures. They were some kind of strange shield guardian, and the four of them were circling Shalthis protecting her. Aethramyr finally closed with one and began destroying it, knowing he would need to in order to reach Shalthis.

The battle went back and forth for a few moments, with neither side making much headway. The guardians were delivering a pounding to Aethramyr, who for his part had nearly destroyed one of the guardians.  But then the tide shifted, and not in a good way for Shalthis. After much whittling down of mirror images, Valanthe snatched the tiara off Shalthis’ head. It was this tiara that let her control the shield guardians. Suddenly Shalthis was without her primary means of protection and had enemies all around her and her most powerful spells spent. I had finally gotten close enough for arrows to have some effect and dealt the first of what was surely to be a bloody retribution. Valanthe had the shield guardians grab the massive naga, and they easily wrapped their arms around her long body. With Aethramyr readying his first stroke, Shalthis Who Serves decided to serve herself, and did so in a rather innovative way.

She _mazed_ herself. 

“She did what?!?” I asked.

“She put herself in the _maze_,” Scorch replied. 

“You’re sure about that? Does that even work?”

Scorch considered it a moment. “Well… hm… I never really thought about doing it… sixth valence… binding… hm.. yes, yes I’m sure of it. No doubt. She’s gone. And if she doesn’t actually _try_ to find her way out, she can stay there as long as she wants.”

“Well,” I pondered “if we had more time, we could leave some very nasty things behind for her when she finally does. Certainly I’d rather not have to fight her again. But let’s just get moving for now before we attract more attention.”

And with that, our group of adventurers, three tatterdemalions, four bronze dragons, and three shield guardians all set off, as discretely as possible, towards the Deathvent.


----------



## Zad

So this morning I pop off an email to Dravot saying something to the effect of "You could write this one up as 'we flew, we swam, we fought, it ran."


And he says "I dare you to write this one in Seussian verse"

Tomorrow I might look at this, decide it's terrible, and delete it. So read fast.



The Sea! The Sea!
Where evil be
Where dead things swim and dead things see
Our heroes travel where evil be

At first there was an ocean storm 
So swim they did, in dragon form
The water’s cold, but once was warm
The fishes here were not the norm

There were hands that swim and zombies walking
The manta rays glared eyes a gawking
The wights and drowned continued stalking
While in the hive they kept on caulking

And then there was a mighty crash
A giant snake (she had a rash)
And with her came her robot cache
Our heroes they were going to smash

Spells and lightning filled the air
Our party fought the fight with flair
Blood and parts sprayed everywhere
Sure, mostly Bolo’s but still it’s there.

But then Valanthe she pulled a coup
She stole the headband. What a to-doo
The robots stopped, the snake went “Poo”
She mazed herself the fight was through.

Our heroes cheered “Hooray We won!”
“Those bots were not a lot of fun”
“But now they’re ours, (they weigh a ton)”
“Too bad the other loot is done.”


----------



## Len

Zad said:
			
		

> But then Valanthe she pulled a coup
> She stole the headband. What a to-doo



Valanthe is my hero.

Seriously, I wasn't sure what to do with my rogue character. This story hour convinced me that making him a Shadowdancer would be fun. (Which it is.)

Now I'm thinking I need to put more points into Sleight of Hand...

(Doh, I just realized that Zad is a moderator, so if he decides to expunge his "poem" he'll delete my post too.)


----------



## Valanthe the Sleepless

Hi everyone,

Len - thanx for the kind words. Right now Val is a rogue 10, shadow dancer 10, and void incarnate 3 (soon to be 4). I've taken the stealth path with Val and focused a lot on hide & move silent, hide in plain sight from the SD class, and now the special abilities, like blank aura and void presence, from the Void Incarnate class. The joke for a while has been "Val who?" (most of the time noone even knows where I am even if we're in the same room) and I usually like to come up behind Scorch and make him jump.

Pogre - I used those above skills (my hide skill is a 65 + the void presence) to get close and then my slight of hand skill. I don't know what the DC was but my sleight of hand is around a 26 and I rolled an 18 to give me a 44 or so.

Wizardru - maybe you can put some perspective from the DM mechanics side of this?


----------



## WizarDru

pogre said:
			
		

> Cool escape for the bad guy!
> 
> How did Valanthe knock the tiara off? (rules-wise I mean)



 A few details:  



All of the meepites, except for Bolo, I think, are currently wearing Pearls of the Sirine, acquired from different sources.  This allows to function underwater without much difficulty, but dictates a flat 60' movement rate.   
As Zad indicated, Kayleigh's  arrows are useless until they hit an air pocket.   
Scorch is very wary of using the Solar form, for fear of upsetting the Judges.  Said fear doesn't include dragon-forms, but the bronzes clearly snubbed both Scorch and Bolo when they assumed draconic form.   
Bolo's traditional run of bad luck continued this time out, with an attempt to use Transmute Metal to Wood on the Shield Guardians...only to find them completely resistant to the spell   
Someone was the victim of Maze prior to Shalthis turning it on herself, and was stuck there for several rounds...can you guess who it was?   
Valanthe stole the tiara off of Shalthis' forehead using, as Val mentioned, a combination of Super-Stealth, her Void Incarnate abilities, and a buff sleight of hand ability.  I set the DC at 40.  Shalthis was a huge creature and the tiara was not that secure.  Once Val, having rolled a 44, had secured the tiara, Val ordered *her* guardians to grapple Shalthis....an unfortunate choice, as they were built to grapple, and had base Grapples of 68, to Shalthis' 48.  It wasn't pretty, frankly.  The two other's joined the grapple, and Shalthis' situation went from safe to desperate in the blink of an eye.   
When Shalthis cast her Greater Dispel Magic on Dravot, she was suprised to find he had no spells actively running.  "I had heard you were their most powerful spellcaster, and you have no spells?", she was heard to ask.  Scorch took that as a personal affront, until Kayleigh pointed out that Chavram may have inflated his grandson's image.  Bolo, being much less concerned with such things, didn't even acknowledge the comment.   
Discussion occured as to whether it was worth trying to lay a trap for Shalthis, and speculation followed as to her ability to escape it (could she plane shift?)  Ultimately, it was decided as too much of a time-waster.   
Unmentioned was another locale sighted, but not explored, of a large collection of some giant conch-like shells, the size of small town, south of the Vent.   
The Tatterdamelions were slaughtered in the Chain Lightning barages, and all but three of them were destroyed.   
The big chain lighting was a maximized chain lightning, doing 108 points of damage or so, if I recall.  Bolo would have died, had he not recalled his Contingency Energy spell had kicked in.   
One of the guardians scored a critical hit, albeit with unimpresive results.  On average, they were doing about 45 points a round on two hits. 
 You got questions, I got answers.


----------



## dravot

Dravot had no buffs running, because at this point, most of his buffs are item based, not spell based.  Any buffs he's currently interested in are either round per level or minutes per level, so while it wasn't a surprise to Dravot, it was certainly a surprise to the naga lady.

 When she cast the dispel, Dravot tried to bluff that his 'breathe water' spell had been dismissed.  "Glub glub!  I'm drowning" ... rolls a 1 on Bluff.


----------



## LordVyreth

Heh, I don't know if I should be disappointed or relieved that I don't have any players as clever as Valenthe.

Oh, by the way, what are the drowned?  Some sort of aquatic undead I gather, but what do they do?  Are they homebrewed or from a book?  And what are Pearls of the Sirine?

It's odd timing that the party's doing this now.  My party's working on infiltrating an undead stronghold as well, and even had to travel underwater (well not water so much as an icky fluid, but same concept.)


----------



## WizarDru

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Oh, by the way, what are the drowned? Some sort of aquatic undead I gather, but what do they do? Are they homebrewed or from a book? And what are Pearls of the Sirine?



 The Drowned are essentially an aquatic variety of zombie. The version I use is from a module, iirc, but at this late stage, the only relevant detail to the game is that they're 1 HD zombies who have a swim speed.  Anything other than that is irrelevant to the game, since Dravot has 31 daily turnings, 16 of which are greater ones...but for weak undead such as this, the living saint merely needs to glance in their direction to utterly obliterate them....hence the lack of focus. The module was a 3.0 module, but I forget the name. It wasn't much good, really....it was from Penumbra, if memory serves.

 The Pearl of the Sirine, as presented from the SRD:


> *Pearl of the Sirines*: This normal-seeming pearl is beautiful and worth at least 1,000 gp on that basis alone. If it is clasped firmly in hand or held to the breast while the possessor attempts actions related to the pearl’s powers, she understands and is able to employ the item. The pearl enables its possessor to breathe in water as if she were in clean, fresh air. Her swim speed is 60 feet, and she can cast spells and act underwater without hindrance.
> 
> Moderate abjuration and transmutation; CL 8th; Craft Wondrous Item, freedom of movement, water breathing; Price 15,300 gp.



 Inquiring minds want to know: what kind of icky fluid?


----------



## Seule

Mmm, the Maze yourself trick.  I love it.  I used it back in 3.0 in a situation where I was in danger and couldn't contribute much, and then sat in the Maze, scrying the party to see when it was safe to come back.  
Having NPCs that actually care about their own survival is a nice touch, too many games have monster that are willing to self-sacrifice to damage the party.

  --Seule


----------



## dravot

Seule said:
			
		

> Mmm, the Maze yourself trick. I love it. I used it back in 3.0 in a situation where I was in danger and couldn't contribute much, and then sat in the Maze, scrying the party to see when it was safe to come back.
> Having NPCs that actually care about their own survival is a nice touch, too many games have monster that are willing to self-sacrifice to damage the party.
> 
> --Seule



 Quite a few of our foes have tried to escape when the fight went wrong for them, but we've been able to stop them/trap them/kill them before they did so.

 In this case, naga-lady was grappled by the freds, who therefore couldn't take an AoO while she was casting the spell, and no one else was close enough to do anything to stop her.

 This might be the first time that someone actually got away.


----------



## Len

Valanthe the Sleepless said:
			
		

> Right now Val is a rogue 10, shadow dancer 10, and void incarnate 3 (soon to be 4).



Thanks for the extra info.


----------



## LordVyreth

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Inquiring minds want to know: what kind of icky fluid?




Well, the party is basically fighting their way through a massive artifact of Divination called the Eye of Nerull.  The eye is largely designed like a real eye (I even found a web page that detailed the anatomy of it,) so most of it is filled with a fluid.  It's not really eye liquid, though.  It's mostly a combination of really rank water, a combination of dozens of strange ingredients, the stuff of souls, concentrated fire and cold, the whole mystical lot.  The party's in the 20-21st level range themselves, so they were able to avoid a lot of the magical dangers with magic themselves, though just getting in was a real chore.  They also are currently low on high-powered clerics, so the undead I've been tossing at them have been more lethal than expected.  

If you're interested, I've made up a few unique undead for the game that I can send you, including an aquatic undead that's closer to ghast strength, but with unique powers.  It's still no match for your party, but with advanced hit die, class levels, and/or the paragon or similar template, it could be a threat.  I also have a template version, so you can just stick it on a high-level monster as well.

If you really are interested in my campaign beyond this adventure, I have my own Story Hour, but be warned it's not NEARLY as good as this one.  For one thing, I have to write myself in between regular campaign work, and I only started this March, when I had almost two years of backlog to work through.


----------



## WizarDru

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> If you're interested, I've made up a few unique undead for the game that I can send you, including an aquatic undead that's closer to ghast strength, but with unique powers. It's still no match for your party, but with advanced hit die, class levels, and/or the paragon or similar template, it could be a threat. I also have a template version, so you can just stick it on a high-level monster as well.
> 
> If you really are interested in my campaign beyond this adventure, I have my own Story Hour, but be warned it's not NEARLY as good as this one. For one thing, I have to write myself in between regular campaign work, and I only started this March, when I had almost two years of backlog to work through.



 No, no.  I certainly don't need more undead.  Nope.  No, sir.

 Wouldn't want 'em, wouldn't use 'em.

 (looks left.  looks right)

 *cough* 
 I certainly would never post them over here, in a thread my players aren't supposed to read, and use that template.  
 I don't even use templates, hardly ever.
 *cough*


----------



## WizarDru

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> Oh Ehlonna were Farked!
> 
> (That's just what he did.)
> 
> On the bright side Bolo laid down the bite and swallow on someone for a change!



Bolo was a Dire Shark. Hehe. But some of us (those with young children) immediately envisioned Bolo as a certain shark...








Ar, ar, ar-r-r! Bolo the mighty shark smells blood in the water... his own!

Finnnn-tastic!


----------



## Zad

*Down with the Dead Men - Chapter 4*

*Down with the Dead Men – Chapter 4*

*OOC Notes:*

Exp for 22 is 1100, for 23 is 750, for 24 is 600.

*Loot:*

8 +2 human bane shortswords

4 bracers of armor +3

4 ring of protection +1

4 amulet of natural armor +1

4 boots of speed

4 ring of resistance +1

*Quote of the Week:*

At the start of the session, Bolo was discussing the virtues of the dire shark form which he took last week while nearly getting killed by electrocution.

Bolo: “And I can smell creatures within a couple hundred feet and I can smell blood in the water up to a mile away!”

Aethramyr: “You currently smell blood in the water. Most of it’s yours.”

*This Week’s Adventure:*

As we were regrouping from the battle, another pulse of negative energy washed over us. This one was from a closer source however so either the source moved or there was more than one. The pulse reminded us to move quickly and we were soon moving towards the hive nestled in the opening of the Deathvent. 

Me and my three new friends that is. Since I was the only one not wearing some kind of magical tiara and I was only slightly effective underwater, I took charge of the three remaining guardians of Shalthis. They were interesting creations and generally similar to shield guardians. It’s no surprise that the naga chose to run once deprived of their protection.

We crested the edge of the depression around the vent entrance without any other serious problems. The water here was warmer but there was no increase in volcanic activity that we could discern. There were strong currents around the Deathvent which would likely cause problems for most of us if we got too close. But it was the hive itself that was the most striking.

There were five large spheres. They rested on short legs, if you consider “short” as “the size of a large oak”. Between them were segmented tunnels that were jointed like the legs of a crab. There was no obvious door however, nor any sign of what was inside. But shadows did move across them as things inside moved past their internal lights. The domes varied in size but even the smallest was large enough to consist of several chambers. 

While Valanthe was scouting, she spotted four creatures lurking in the shadows of one of the connecting tunnels. Even knowing where they were, I could not make them out, so there was no doubt they were doing more than just hiding well. Valanthe believed them to be dark stalkers but they were using some kind of shadow ability to remain concealed. Our best guess was they were moving towards our main group, but they were unaware of Valanthe watching them.

We took the initiative and assumed they weren’t friendly. Bolo used a _Shadowblast_ to force to fully manifest, but it had no effect outside of that. Valanthe struck at one, and blue-green blood spread out into the water. The injured one made a quick shadowjump and appeared a short distance away.

Most of us were too far away to be of much impact. But between Valanthe’s blades and some chain lightning from Scorch, the remaining three were quickly killed. But the one that ran perhaps got the worst end of it. Bolo took off after him like a crossbow bolt. The dark stalker was fumbling to find some kind of entry into one of the legs supporting a sphere and could do nothing but stare in shock as the large shark got closer and closer.

Then with a single spasm of teeth and muscle, Bolo devoured the stalker. And with no small satisfaction as well.

[Note for the readers: Five sets of eyes turned to Bolo’s player and said “You swallowed our loot.” The details of the retrieval are left to the reader’s imagination.]

The stalker also did us the kind favor of showing us where to look for an entry into the sphere. We found the panel and were able to rise up through the hollow leg into the air-filled sphere. The dragons and tatterdemalions remained at the entry to fend off the manta rays that were showing an interest in all the blood in the water.

Valanthe surfaced first, and as she rose through the water she could make out a keening wail of a sound. When she poked her head up, she saw a mushroom that was slowly loping around the chamber, screaming its head off. The chamber looked like a dock but there was no sign of any life beyond the mushroom and no sign of response to the alarm. I broke the surface and silenced the wail of the mushroom. If it had been a genuine alarm, nobody seemed interested. Either nobody heard it or it was a false alarm and was ignored. We got ourselves out of the water (and dried off for some of us, much to my relief. Being wet underwater is one thing. Being soggy while in the air is another entirely.)

The room itself was strange and bizarre. The floor was spongy and seemed to be some kind of spongy tissue over a bone latticework. We began to think that the building was actually some kind of creature, perhaps grown for the task. There were two doors of a shell-like material that closed like an iris. Neither showed any way of opening it, and Valanthe could find no way, magical or mundane, to open them.

Bolo wanted to try something. And while there was some rolling of eyes, it turned out to be a fairly good idea. He cast a spell called “Speak with anything” then began chatting with the door.

[Reader’s note: There was a great deal of protesting at a spell that had not been submitted to the review committee with the required 72 hours notice. But when we heard the name of the spell, we uttered the fateful words “Oh. Hm. Well how bad could that be?”]

The door would not let us pass because we were not “of shadow”. This was rather confusing since it wouldn’t even let Valanthe pass, and she was clearly as “of shadow” as anyone. There was a bit of back-and-forth with the door and I was about ready to tell one of my new guardians to just smash the thing for the sake of moving on when Scorch had a thought.

“Perhaps we’re over-thinking this. It’s a door after all. It just isn’t that smart. We may be giving it too much credit.”

“Ok,” I said. “Let’s take it from the other end. How does it know someone is ‘of shadow’?”

Bolo asked and the door said that either you were enchanted properly, you used a certain gesture or you carried a symbol. It didn’t take long before we held up one of the amulets retrieved from the dark stalkers and the door happily opened for us. (The amulets were fairly standard protective magic and we didn’t give them much thought after collecting them but they turned out to have a dual use here.)

After passing through assorted doors and corridors (presumably provided to seal off water in the event of a breach) we came to a more ornate area decorated with plush red carpets. The doors in this area had odd scrollwork and art on the walls depicting above-ground cityscapes. The text was in old Sule. 

One door in particular had a great deal of ornate carvings and was magically warded. Valanthe was able to circumvent the magical trap but the amulet would not open this door. It was much thicker than the others so smashing it would be more difficult. But after some study, it seemed the runes depicted a genealogy. One of the symbols even matched the one used by Chavram on his banners. Our theory that the door was perhaps keyed to Chavram’s line was confirmed when we pushed Dravot at the door and it opened for him.

There was a large throne-like chair, but it showed few signs of use. The chamber looked more like a personal library than anything. Open books were scattered on tables and maps were pinned to the walls, while communiqués were neatly piled up awaiting attention. Some of the maps were of the underdark while others were of areas around Geoff and the Shield Lands. A cursory examination of the communiqués showed that some of them were to the drow and other groups, including some to Eclavadra. The name sent a chill down my spine and I explained to the others that she was the Lady of one of the great drow cities and very powerful indeed. The messages seemed to be about a request for an emissary. There were similar messages to other nations in the underdark. There was even one that appeared to be a map until we opened it to see it was a message written largely in a crude, surely giantish, hand.

A quick look at the books indicated they were likely many of the ones that were taken from Brindinford. There were some discussing demi-gods and others that dealt with the binding of demons and devils. We gathered up every book, map, and message and took them with us. Any insight into Chavram’s plans would be valuable.

Against one wall were three stone chests or coffins. Inside each was a marionette similar to what we saw in the ShadowTaker’s lair. The floor of the chests were bloodstone vitaesis. 

They were surely of his construction but there were metal bands added with scrollwork and symbols on them. The symbols were old Sule and the translation was chilling indeed.

_The bargain can be altered._

We destroyed the marionettes but kept the bands. One of them had more of a shape than the other two and seemed to reminiscent of a barghest. It had a more palpable aura of evil than the others did. When we destroyed that one, a blood-red spectre broke free of the wooden body and screamed in agony as it was destroyed.

I didn’t want to contemplate the purpose of these twisted creations and I was glad we didn’t have time to dwell on it.

Two other nearby chambers were much more spartan. One looked more like a priest’s cell with a neat orderly desk containing logs and record books. The logs indicated they were the work of Dravot’s brother Kaltin. The other was more literally a cell with chains on the wall and hardly any furniture at all, and the only conclusion was that this was where Chavram kept Dravot’s father locked up.

Another chamber further on was decorated entirely in shades of blue. It was a study with a luxurious carpet and richly appointed chairs. On a desk was an unrefined lump of onyx vitaesis. There were no other exits save a trap door that dropped into the water. The scrolls on the desk were largely unopened but had agreements about the exchange of resources in trade. They made it clear we were in the chamber of Vivisectus, the current leader of the blue dragons. 

Well, I suppose we had annoyed Infernus enough for the time being. Why not Vivisectus?

We quickly explored the rest of the dome but there was little more than supplies and furniture in various storerooms. So we made our way to one of the segmented tunnels that would lead to the central dome. It was the largest one and the fact that we hadn’t seen anyone in the first dome implied that the meeting was underway.

As we moved into one chamber of the hallway, a hundred zombies stood drooling. I’m not sure if they were sent there as a response or just designed to act as an alarm. We shared some puzzled looks but ultimately Aethramyr just shrugged and Dravot annihilated them all.

Past the next door were six drow males. They each had wands and sent fireballs down the hallway at us. Of course neither they nor their fireballs were much of an issue and we were again left with the feeling that they were simply something designed to create a lot of noise in the process of its destruction.

The next door opened into the central dome which unlike the last was simply one massive chamber some two hundred feet across. The room was shadowy and the few small globes of light could do little to hold back the patches of natural and unnatural darkness that lurked in the room. The chamber itself was a large coliseum or theatre, with tiers of bench seats descending towards a central dais and speaking platform. We had entered at the top level and stairs stretched out leading towards the floor. Scattered around the room was evil of all kinds. Half a dozen more nightstalkers were to one side, looking sterner than their deceased brethren. One woman carried a crossbow wreathed in black flames. On the dais to one side were three drow – two women and a man. The women were spellcasters while the man carried a wicked double-sword, also burning with black fire. Even the ceiling had its own brand of malice, with another nightstalker wielding a vicious dagger. Further away, two burning eyes turned towards us and a minotaur deathknight snorted in challenge. He would have been more awe-inspiring were it not for the sheer size of the undead spider he was riding simply making the whole scene beyond belief.

And in the center, surrounded by four pinpoints of light, stood Chavram. There was no sign of the rest of Dravot’s family, but Chavram stood proud and smiling amidst the assembly. He looked utterly unsurprised by our arrival.

He called out, as the whispers at our entrance grew to grumbles and shouts. “Ah! Grandson! You and your lackeys have arrived! As I had hoped.”

At that, the room fell silent again.

Dravot waved a hand absently. “Well we received your invitation and it would have been so rude to decline.”

Chavram smiled. “Good. Our game is almost done.”

Or was it? Dravot saw the form and it looked like Chavram. But the movements did not match properly. It wasn’t truly Chavram.  Was it Kaltin? The Mark was glowing brightly on his arm. 

Chavram smiled a bit seeing the wheels turn. He waved at the assembled delegates as he spoke to us. “Now if you would be so kind as to kill all of them, we can proceed.”

The other delegates were expressing surprise or confusion, each according to their ability to understand or expect their betrayal. The dark assassins seemed unfazed. The drow however looked so stunned that a stiff breeze might have knocked them over. Over the murmurs I heard one of them say “You think you can betray us so soon?” 

Chavram just smiled. “If you need an incentive grandson, your prize is this body. If you succeed, you can save it. If not… well I’m sure these fools will tear it apart.”

Finally the drow were ready to say something. One of the females said “The drow empire will destroy you Chavram.”

Chavram wheeled on her in disgust and contempt. “I've laid these plans for years to prepare for what must come. I will not brook interference from your pathetic 'empire' of faithless slaves and lawless self-destruction. The drow stand in my way, so they will be destroyed. In fact," he said idly, "by now, they already are.”


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Just for the record. Bolo has used "Speak with Anything" before. It is one of the spells Wizardru approved for me to use from Masters otW. So quit your Biatching.


----------



## LordVyreth

Hey, Wizardru, out of curiosity, did you get any use out of the stuff I sent you?  Feel free to reply in the Rogues' Gallery subject players are not meant to know if you don't want to give anything away by posting here.


----------



## dravot

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Hey, Wizardru, out of curiosity, did you get any use out of the stuff I sent you? Feel free to reply in the Rogues' Gallery subject players are not meant to know if you don't want to give anything away by posting here.



 Considering what we saw and fought so far, I'd seriously doubt it was anything you provided.  Everything was far too mundane


----------



## WizarDru

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Hey, Wizardru, out of curiosity, did you get any use out of the stuff I sent you? Feel free to reply in the Rogues' Gallery subject players are not meant to know if you don't want to give anything away by posting here.



 In point of fact, I have not done so....YET.  The Meepites tend to run straight at something I've set up, and then turn left or right just before getting to it.    Consequently, while there are nasties about that were the result of your contributions (some advanced versions, mind you), they have not yet appeared 'on camera', as it were.

 I'm a firm believer in letting the PCs short-circuit the adventure, if they come up with a clever solution.  This tendency can lead to some odd results, occasionally.  



			
				Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> Just for the record. Bolo has used "Speak with Anything" before. It is one of the spells Wizardru approved for me to use from Masters otW. So quit your Biatching.



 When was that?  Personally, I'm three steps shy of putting Masters of the Wild on a burner...it's just got too many goofy/broken spells.  I don't have a problem with Speak with Anything, though I tend to think it's kind of a goofy spell...but hey, it's your 8th level slot, baby.


 Minor details for those who care about the details behind the story:


The Shields of Shalthis weigh 2400 pounds each.  Technically, they break the creation rules for Shield Guardians, and their value is not necessarily commensurate with their statistics.   
The door was not really very bright.   
Vivisectus' chambers had a direct access to the ocean, but that access had no airlock, per se.  He doesn't need to concern himself with petty problems such as pressure changes.   
The trap on Chavram's study was a Wail of the Banshee trap, the very same trap that laid Valanthe low way back when during the quest for the Evocation binder.  The DC to disable it was a 45.   
Actual Quote from within the game:  "_Darn, I rolled lousy.  I got a 72._"   
Well-rehearsed dialogue from in game:
 Zad: "_Are you in a hurry?  No?  *Take 20!*_"
 dravot: "_It's the d20 system, not the 'Take 10' system._"   
dravot used a positive energy burst to destroy the zombies, primarily to save time.   
The fourth Dark One Shadow Stalker who Bolo consumed had actually entered the 'strut'.  Bolo, however, had to choose to squeeze through the entrance to get to him.  The Dark One wasn't killed instantly, but had no light weapon, and no way out.  It didn't take long.   
The second Myconid who was travelling with the Drow tried to run.  It wasn't pretty.  Can you say 'sauteed mushroom skewers'?  Thought you could.   
More then once, the party openly wondered amongst themselves...."So, let's say we find Chavram.  What are we going to do with him?"  Hilarity ensued.


----------



## Zad

Actually it's "... hurry? Then take 10". 

I'm a fan of a) minimizing the uncertainty and b) not doing math. Especially since generally speaking we're going to succeed at most skill checks for our core skills. 

And hilarity does ensue. Generally speaking we have a really good idea what we're trying to do on any given mission. More accurately, some of us always keep the goal in mind and the rest follow along. It's a good model and has worked really really well for us. Some nights you can flake out and others you're focused but as a group we are usually always working towards the goal, whatever that may be.

For this one though, we really have no idea what we're trying to do here. We've sort of done reconaissance-in-force before, but that's not the case here. We're just not sure what our purpose is at all. That may or may not be a problem - we'll see I suppose. 

Of course the problem with not planning is it leaves you open to manipulation by the enemy. On the other hand, the problem with planning is it leaves you open to manipulation by the enemy.

There are days I wonder who we are actually working for


----------



## LordVyreth

WizarDru said:
			
		

> In point of fact, I have not done so....YET.  The Meepites tend to run straight at something I've set up, and then turn left or right just before getting to it.    Consequently, while there are nasties about that were the result of your contributions (some advanced versions, mind you), they have not yet appeared 'on camera', as it were.
> 
> I'm a firm believer in letting the PCs short-circuit the adventure, if they come up with a clever solution.  This tendency can lead to some odd results, occasionally.




Oh, sure, I understand.  I'm curious to see what you made of my creations, but I'm willing to wait.  It did seem like they got to Chavram (or faux-Chavram, at least,) quickly.  I'm just glad you were able to get some use out of them in general.  Would it be possible for you to post them in the other thread, or would you prefer to wait for the party to actually fight them?  Incidentally, I have plenty of other stuff I could give you besides undead, including some higher-CR monsters.  Even the highest are a little too weak for a CR 23 party, but a quick HD bump or a template and they'd be good to go.  I even statted the entire monster list of a fairly recent horror game (whose name I won't reveal here for obvious reasons,) including relevent templates.  And I apologize for further cold spells in the Bolo region, but eh, he can turn into a fire elemental anyway.


----------



## LordVyreth

Oh, and what are tatterdemelions, exactly?  I figured that they're really just mooks at this level of power, but I'm still curious about what they are exactly.  Also, are the bronze dragons still with the party?  Have this week's fights just been easy enough that they didn't really get involved?


----------



## Argent Silvermage

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Oh, and what are tatterdemelions, exactly?  I figured that they're really just mooks at this level of power, but I'm still curious about what they are exactly.  Also, are the bronze dragons still with the party?  Have this week's fights just been easy enough that they didn't really get involved?



Tatterdemelions seem to be the elite soldiers of We Jas. They are a sort of living undead.


----------



## WizarDru

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Oh, and what are tatterdemelions, exactly? I figured that they're really just mooks at this level of power, but I'm still curious about what they are exactly. Also, are the bronze dragons still with the party? Have this week's fights just been easy enough that they didn't really get involved?



 Tatterdamemalions are unique undead created only through the research and magic of the temple of Wee Jas.  They are created through a complicated process, binding three supplicants together in a single form.  Only one of the three can dominate, and the body shapeshifts to resemble that specific being.  In essence, three spirits inhabit a single form, and the primary form benefits a little bit from all of them.  Their relative strength level varies with experience and with the power of it's original hosts.  So far, only a handful of them survived the approach, and none of them have followed the group in, preferering to relegate themselves to scouting duties.  None of them have been permanently destroyed, though the party wouldn't be aware of that at this point (not that it affects anything).

 The bronzes are keeping the heat off, as it were, and acting as a distraction.  Unable to function well in the tight environments, and being considerably weaker in power than the meepites, they've chosen to 'guard the exit', as it were...and are busy killing mantas and undead.  They have one more task, as well, but we won't discuss that, yet.

 The upcoming battle is likely to be one of the hariest I've run.  Yikes.  I will let folks know when I've posted some stuff in the thread of the damned.


----------



## The Amazing Dingo

Wow...I finally finished the Story Hour...

Whoooo...it was a lot of reading, but definately well worth it.  I'm gonna have to delve back into this one for a while from the beginning.  I remember feeling quite confused at the beginning and such, but now I think things would make much more sense.  

This seems like an outstanding SH Dru!  Bravo to both yourself and the Meepites!  Please keep up the good work and I look forward to both rereading the SH and reading the new posts.


----------



## Nifft

Wot, page 3 already?

 -- N


----------



## Aethramyr

*Never Fear*

Campaign hasn't halted, just paused for vacations and holidays and such. 90% sure the meepites are playing this week, so we'll have some food for the board munchers then.

Aeth.

____________________
The last thing I want to do is kill you. But it is on the list.


----------



## WizarDru

Unfortunately, 90% is not the same as 100%.  We won't be running this week, I'm afraid.  Scorch's long delayed weekend downtime task has finally landed.


----------



## Scorch

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Unfortunately, 90% is not the same as 100%.  We won't be running this week, I'm afraid.  Scorch's long delayed weekend downtime task has finally landed.




Should be worth the wait since Zad and I will have "The Project" finished by then.  Expect lots of cools pictures from next game session.

Scorch


----------



## Funeris

you can consider this a BUMP.  
Enjoyed the reading.  (Finally finished it all)  And I eagerly await the next installment, pics, etc.

Very complex plot line. absolutely loved it.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Funeris said:
			
		

> you can consider this a BUMP.
> Enjoyed the reading.  (Finally finished it all)  And I eagerly await the next installment, pics, etc.
> 
> Very complex plot line. absolutely loved it.



I hate to say it but playing in this game is even better than reading about it.


----------



## dravot

Real life has conspired against us, and we won't be playing another session of this game for two weeks or so.


----------



## WizarDru

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> I hate to say it but playing in this game is even better than reading about it.




Well shucks.  Thankee, sir.  Waitaminnit..."_hate to say it_"? 

I'm looking forward to our next session.  And dreading it, of course.  This could be the most dangerous battle I've ever staged...or it could be over in a few rounds.  I haven't been able to effectively gauge the lethality of an encounter since....ummm....7th level.


----------



## pogre

Scorch said:
			
		

> Should be worth the wait since Zad and I will have "The Project" finished by then.  Expect lots of cools pictures from next game session.
> 
> Scorch




That certainly merits a wahhoo!!


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*A plee for sanity!*

We play Meepo this weekend right? If I don't get to crush some bad guy skulls soon I may have a break from reality. (granted _my_ reality is not the same as most people but the unicorns don't seem to mind my being around.)


----------



## WizarDru

Don't look at me.  I'm ready to go.  Ask the _other _various diseased and overworked members of our little band.


----------



## dravot

*The fight is on!*

It's only round two and it's going hot and heavy.  The Senate looks fantastic, thanks to the work of Scorch and Zad.

Spells are going off like ... lots of spells.  Lots of muffed rolls by us, lots of good rolls by WizarDru.

We will prevail.


----------



## Ryan Koppenhaver

dravot said:
			
		

> It's only round two and it's going hot and heavy.




Has anyone been eaten yet?


----------



## dravot

Ryan Koppenhaver said:
			
		

> Has anyone been eaten yet?



No, but there is potential.  Giant spider has someone in it's grasp.


----------



## WizarDru

Eight rolls. 

  EIGHT ROLLS.

  Why, oh why do the dice protect him?  WHY?

  There wasn't an eatin', but there was a killin'.

 Oh, and a revelation or two.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Ryan Koppenhaver said:
			
		

> Has anyone been eaten yet?



/tapping foot on ground. "Are you trying to insinuate something?" Said the Druid.


----------



## LordVyreth

Whew, I was getting worried there for a while.  I was afraid my attempts to insinuate my monsters into your game somehow cursed it to an early doom.


----------



## WizarDru

Nah, nothing like that.  Just a whole lot of illness, an adoption celebration, a game convention and conflicting schedules stalled us for a few weeks.  Last night we saw the full power of Scorch's full operational battlestation. 

 Photos are upcoming.


----------



## dravot

*Fun fight*

It was a fun fight.  I wasn't real comfortable with the situation as it unfolded, and the first round or two made me extremely nervous.

I was pleased that Dravot had one or two clever contributions to the fight.  It made up for all of the extremely poor spell penetration rolls.   :\


----------



## thatdarncat

So when do we get an update?


----------



## dravot

Zad's been pretty busy at work today, but should get the writeup done in the next day or so.


----------



## LordVyreth

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Nah, nothing like that.  Just a whole lot of illness, an adoption celebration, a game convention and conflicting schedules stalled us for a few weeks.  Last night we saw the full power of Scorch's full operational battlestation.




Ah, but I was implying that my involvement caused the illness!  I tend to be a little paranoid like that.   I can't really take any credit for the adoption or convention though...

Well, at any rate, let me know if something of mine came up, okay?  I've been eager to know how well some of my designs work outside the limited scope of my own campaign.


----------



## Aethramyr

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Ah, but I was implying that my involvement caused the illness!  I tend to be a little paranoid like that.   I can't really take any credit for the adoption or convention though...




I don't think you want to be taking credit for the illness, either. Gives us an idea on an easy way to effect a cure...


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Strangely I have the feeling of being incomplete.... as if i'm missing something...

Wizardru? Some help please?


----------



## WizarDru

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> Strangely I have the feeling of being incomplete.... as if i'm missing something...
> 
> Wizardru? Some help please?



 Patience, young Paduan.  The DM is having a busy week.


----------



## Zad

*Down with the Dead Men - Chapter 5*

*Down with the Dead Men – Chapter 5*

*OOC Notes:*
Exp to be calculated later.

*Loot:*
Bracers of armor +5
Ring of protection +3
2 +3 unholy daggers
Boots of striding and springing
Periapt of wisdom +4
+3 large acidic burst halberd
+1 large fleshgrinding longspear, slightly used
Breastplate of darkness undeterred
Ring of protection +3
Gauntlets of Vile Fortitude +4
Belt of Giant Strength +4
Chain shirt +4
Cloak of Resistance +3
Ring of Protection +1
Greater Bracers of Archery
+4 unholy crossbow (Ashen Harbinger)
Dancing Rapier +2
Vest of resistance +5
Cloak of Protection +4
Belt of Health +4
Gloves of dexterity +2
Headband of intellect +6
Wand of Lightning 10th level, 33 charges

*A recap:*
For the convenience of the readers who have gone a while without seeing an update (due to our clashing schedules), here is a brief recap.

The group became aware of some of the recent activities of Dravot’s animus grandfather, Chavram. He was moving through the Underdark and gathering allies but the end was unknown. There was to be a summit of these allies wherein he would be cementing his relationships with them and revealing his plans to them. Much of this information came to the group by way of Dravot’s brother Kaltin, also an animus and not entirely under the control of his grandfather.

Word reached the group of the time and place of the meeting – it would be held at the Deathvent – an underwater tunnel leading to the Underdark. The company moved to attack the meeting, braving underwater hazards and a large naga. They found the Deathvent and a large structure at the opening that seemed to be some kind of living creature grown to serve as a base of operations with several round pods connected by tubes. The group entered the structure and moved through several chambers.

At last they came into a large central dome that was entirely open and had seating like an arena or theatre. Arrayed around the room, a wide array of evil beings listened to the proceedings. Clinging to one wall was a strange tentacled creature that seemed more a mass of protoplasm that shaped itself into a vague semblance of a spider. Inside its translucent body, parts and creatures floated around. Something like that could only come from the Far Realms. Worse, riding it was a Minotaur Death Knight. Dark Stalkers sat on the seats around the room, and more powerful stalkers or shadowdancers were made out by Valanthe or Kayleigh. At the center were six figures. Three were drow, two female and one male. Two were humans and seemed of arcane talents. The last was Chavram, or at least what was supposed to appear to be Chavram. It was in fact Kaltin, disguised and under Chavram’s mental control.

Upon entry, faux-Chavram greeted our heroes immediately and made it plain that this was part of his plan. He was assaulting the various power bases in the Underdark and he intended us to destroy the emissaries here. They would surely attack faux-Chavram now that his treachery was revealed, and that was to serve as the party’s incentive to attack the evil forces.

*This Week’s Adventure:*
Before me stood what was most likely some of the most powerful representatives of the most hated enemy of my people. 

And I… I couldn’t really find it in myself to care. They were not relevant to me. They had bigger troubles, if Chavram was to be believed. And I detest playing into Chavram’s hand by destroying them. Regrettably, I didn’t think they would be quick to see the logic of this position. At least not without some casualties first. The strength of this position was reinforced when it became clear that at least some of them recognized who we were. 

I wasn’t going to wait to find out.

I decided it was time to give my new bow a workout, and fired an ice-enchanted arrow at the nearest drow female below. She had some defenses against the icy onslaught but more than a little of it got through and she reeled backwards with the force of the attack. A quick mental command brought the one shield guardian we’d squeezed through the halls into the room and it layered a _Mirror Image_ on me.

Valanthe slipped into the shadows and moved off to deal with the more skilled shadow dancers hidden in the room. Generally I would not suggest sending strength against strength this way, but I was reasonably sure that Valanthe was far more skilled than her opponents. Most of the group could not even register these shadows, and they seemed surprised that Valanthe could find them all, let alone two of us. Dark blades began flickering in deadly exchanges on the edge of perception.

The pyrotechnics then began. Scorch attempted to disintegrate one of the mages below. One of the creatures caused a black cloud to rise in front of us, which seemed somewhat inconvenient and a stalling tactic at best. Dravot stepped around it and let off a _Sunburst_ on the far side of the room that sent most of the dark stalkers reeling. Bolo, seeing how effective it was, repeated the act and most of the dark stalkers were only barely alive after it. One of the stronger stalkers had pulled the darkness around him like a cloak but the twin sunbursts had torn it apart.

[Author’s note: Yes, a dark stalker grabbed the darkness and wrapped it around himself like a cloak. And I wished it had been my turn to act so I could have said “I cast magic missile at _the darkness!_”]

Some of the stalkers closed in on the exposed Dravot, one of them landed a blade deep in his side. But this seemed insignificant compared to the minotaur. He roared in challenged and seemed thrilled to see a worthy foe. His markings indicated he was a thrall of Baphomet and he was salivating at the chance to fight Aethramyr. He hurled a spear at the paladin and then drew his halberd and charged across the amphitheater. 

Dravot was in a bad position, being one of the few of us exposed to view of the most of the room. (The fog of darkness seemed to be helping us more than them.) The senior drow cleric hissed something foul in his direction (translated “Enjoy the kiss of Lloth”) and released a black ray at him. The ray drained a large part of his personal energy and even his sunlight shadow was extinguished.

The other female – the one I had fired at – drank a potion. 

How embarrassing. A potion? Is this what we’ve come to?

One of the humans on the dias cast a meteor swarm at us, but overall it had hardly any impact worth noting save to show his power.

Since I was obscured behind the fog, I had to peek up above the edge. So I released a single arrow and with it a _Chain Lightning_ arced across the dias. Alone it wasn’t too bad, but it was intended to simply soften things up for the _Acid Ball_ Scorch followed up with. My target dropped, her black flesh falling off her bones. The others drow were less inconvenienced, but the humans were a bit more burned. The senior drow knew that she would be my next favored target, and attempted to protect herself with an _Interposing Hand_. The last time I was caught with one of these, it was quite the problem, but I was sure now I could easily shoot around it.

The spider-like thing oozed a mass of caustic webbing at Bolo, snared him and began reeling him in. Bolo shifted to the form of a fire elemental and the webbing quickly fell away – a fine response. Meanwhile his master and Aethramyr exchanged opening spells and barbs, bracing themselves for the physical clash to come.

Another spellcaster entered the room and locked in on Scorch. A giant crushing fist appeared out of the sky and began hammering away at the spot Scorch quickly moved away from. The impact was so severe as to make me worry that it would shatter the dome if left unchecked. 

Valanthe continued to exchange blades with the shadowdancers and was clearly having her way with them. She had dropped one of their most powerful number and was carving up another with abandon. 

Now that there were some casualties of the battle, perhaps they were ready to be more reasonable. I fired a full volley of arrows at the drow leader to punctuate the point I was about to make. She was still standing but had taken quite a lot of pain and would not stand that punishment a second time. 

And in a clear slow voice, I said “Walk. Away. You gain nothing by fighting us. And nothing by dying, save serving Chavram’s whim.”

The drow were first. She spoke to the male near her “The chalk elf is right. We go. But you remain and break your staff.” And she teleported away.

Break the staff. Well that could only mean one or two things, and neither was very good. Dravot said calmly over the link “I’ve got it.” And with that, he calmly _Dispelled_ the staff. It wasn’t permanent of course but it would probably be long enough for us to get Kaltin out of the way.

The drow seemed not to notice Dravot’s spell. He smiled a twisted grin as he brought the staff down on his knee. The grin turned to a pout as nothing happened. It was beautiful.

On the other hand, the minotaur was determined to stand and fight. He swung his halberd not at Aethramyr but at Shatterspike. But the vitaesis blade easily turned aside the blow without so much as a scratch. Aethramyr returned the attacks in kind and Shatterspike cut hard into the dead knight’s flesh. Given the players, I’m sure it would be a pitched battle to the end. I suspect Aethramyr would have won in the end, but I couldn’t be sure of that of course. But the fact remains that Aethramyr had one thing that the minotaur lacked: Friends.

After Aethramyr landed several wide slashes on the minotaur, he simply stopped and stood in a relaxed stance. The minotaur hesitated a moment, not understanding. He did not know what Aethramyr knew – that in another moment, a stream of arrows would come over his shoulder and bury themselves in the minotaur’s chest. And the minotaur could only stare at Aethramyr in the shock of defeat while the paladin waited another moment for his foe’s body to collapse to the floor, vanquished and destroyed.

The shadowdancers had their fill of their own blood being spilled and began retreating, as did other spellcasters by whatever means they had available. This left only the spider-thing, who seemed immune to reason. It lashed out tentacles at Bolo, and even though a fire elemental, the blows left him reeling and he collapsed to the floor and reverted to elven form. What was disguised as an elemental was clear as an elf – the blows were fatal, and Bolo was dead.

Even now, I’m not sure whether to be pleased or disturbed. Pleased that we can fix it fairly readily. Disturbed that it ever be treated as something so minor. Aethramyr was quick to exact vengeance on the spider, and between us we laid the beast open, and with that the battle was ours.

Dravot walked onto the dias. The drow male was pointing the raw ends of the staff at him, waiting for them to do… well… something. The suppression wouldn’t last long, but Scorch had seen to it. An invisible force barrier sprung up around the drow, but he didn’t see it. Dravot stood calmly in front of him and waited, and a few seconds later there was a “Whumpf” sound…

I’ll spare the details and just say that there was nothing inside the barrier left save a blue-black mist. It wasn’t pretty.

Chavram was still in control of Kaltin. He clucked. “Tsk tsk. Well I must say I am disappointed. But it’s all fine I suppose. My giant and undead forces have by now crushed the Underdark forces, and broken the spines of the powers below. And in the process the undead have surely been destroyed as well.”

He said as an aside “Never rely on the undead as a power base grandson. They are very unreliable.”

“But never mind that. Lest you think me ungrateful, I will give you two gifts. First is your brother – keep him safe. Continue to satisfy my goals and I will return to you your brother and your father. That is only if you continue to accrue the power necessary. I should mention there are demons of significant power residing on the Prime that would threaten your security and peace. You should cleanse them and remove their taints.”

“Wait didn’t whats-her-name say the same thing?” Valanthe piped up.

“Rhyxali,” I added. I wasn’t sure it was smart to mention that to Chavram, but it was done and seemed inconsequential.

Chavram nodded. “The task remains, grandson. You should cleanse them. If you are to assume godhood, you must fulfill your duties. Do not be like your father – recalcitrant, foolish, overly dedicated to the wrong ideals. He did not wish you to know the truth of your older brother. I told you I would return your father and your brother to you – I didn’t mean this one – I’m giving you him now as a gift. Did you honestly believe he was slain as you were told? Examine the records in your own household. I left enough clues for you in the manuals and yet you are… uncurious.”

Dravot was unamused. “I’m not uncurious. I’m overly distracted by you.”

Chavram feigned shock. “But I haven’t spoken to you in months! How could I distract you?”

He continued. “There are other distractions on the Prime, I know. I’ve even solved some of them for you. I solved the giant problem. I’m _solving_ the drow problem. Perhaps I’ll even solve the Brotherhood problem for you too. But some things you must do for yourself if you are to become a god.”

Kaltin started convulsing and seemed to return to himself. His forehead changed slightly though in the process and a drop of blood started welling up from a small cut. When he recovered his senses, he spoke with two voices.

One was his. The other claimed to be that of a Prince.

It didn’t take long to guess. “What is your name, Prince?”

“I am Prince Farhud ibn Auda,” he said.

“You are the Binder of Illusion,” I replied. “Chavram has _given_ us a binder?!?”

The Prince had no reply. I said “Prince Farhud, we will do our best to get you out of there. Prince Sumez and Prince Tupal have already been freed.” He simply nodded.

I turned to Dravot with a simple question. “Now what?”


----------



## dravot

A couple of game notes about the fight:

Dravot cast _repulsion_ , which affected all of the yard trash, but, unfortunately none of the main opponents.  It did give us some breathing room, however, and helped the drow decide to bug out.

Both Bolo and Dravot rolled horribly on most of our spell penetration attempts, or the fight would have turned out differently.  Dravot was doing his best to keep an eye on Bolo, and healing him was the next item on Dravot's list.  Next time, you'll be a higher priority, I promise.   

Dravot was hit with Energy Drain, and lost 5 levels, including all of his 9th level spells, which was teh suck.

And the best: Scorch wrapped the remaining drow with the broken staff in a solid force cube.  We all imagined in vivid detail what that would look like.   Eeeew.


----------



## WizarDru

Some additional notes:

Valanthe was a terror to the shadow stalkers.  Blightknife Prime couldn't see Val as he ran right past her.  One massive damage save later, she had completely gutted him.  Wash, rinse, repeat.  

Aethramyr's displacement allowed him to 'not be there' for 6 separate attacks, including two criticals.  Irritation doesn't describe it.

The staff in question (and the topic of much debate) was a Staff of Power.  There had been speculation that it was a staff of the magi, but no such luck.  The players were generally underwhelmed at it's capabilities, regardless, and had it survived, Val probably would have chucked it in her _keep-until-the-DM-forgets-I-have-it_ bag, to produce at an inconvienent time, later.

The best loot escaped.  I say this as a petty revenge. 

Bolo will be reincarnated, as per his wishes, by a 9th-level variant of the Reincarnate spell that incurs no level loss, and uses....a different table of possible forms.  I'm keeping that knowledge from him.  The Horror.  The Horror.  (and no, the spell isn't learnable or approved by the SSOM spell-approval sub-committee).

The Senate, as we call it, was an awesome thing of beauty.  If time can be found by Valanthe or myself, look for some battle pictures later today.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

At least Bolo got a good amount of shadowstalkers before he went down. 
Let me tell you *Holy Word* rocks!


----------



## Zad

> (and no, the spell isn't learnable or approved by the SSOM spell-approval sub-committee).



Oh we'll happily approve it provided that a) it's not learnable by Bolo and b) it turns Bolo into unfortunate things.  The committee only worries itself about things that can come *from* Bolo's little wiggling fingertips - things that happen *to* him are just fine by us. 

/giggles madly

"Let's see...[roll]....67.... A dire carp!"


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Zad said:
			
		

> Oh we'll happily approve it provided that a) it's not learnable by Bolo and b) it turns Bolo into unfortunate things.  The committee only worries itself about things that can come *from* Bolo's little wiggling fingertips - things that happen *to* him are just fine by us.
> 
> /giggles madly
> 
> "Let's see...[roll]....67.... A dire carp!"




AAAHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

/deep breath

AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


----------



## LordVyreth

Zad said:
			
		

> [Author’s note: Yes, a dark stalker grabbed the darkness and wrapped it around himself like a cloak. And I wished it had been my turn to act so I could have said “I cast magic missile at _the darkness!_”]




Hehe, brilliant.  I had a similar moment a few games ago when we were attacked by a CR 30 abomination the DM made that he simply told us was darkness.  Of course that forced me to later say "I attack the darkness."

So, on a similar note, when can we expect a report on Valenthe stealing somebody's pants?  Not that she wants the pants; she just wants to see if she could take them.  Though I imagine by now it won't even require a die roll.


----------



## LordVyreth

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Bolo will be reincarnated, as per his wishes, by a 9th-level variant of the Reincarnate spell that incurs no level loss, and uses....a different table of possible forms.  I'm keeping that knowledge from him.  The Horror.  The Horror.  (and no, the spell isn't learnable or approved by the SSOM spell-approval sub-committee).




SSOM spell-approval sub-committee?  Tell me more.

Incidentally, I have a fairly complicated house rule on resurrection/reincarnation if the party's getting disappointed with the way raising the dead currently works.  You might have to tweak it for high level play, though.  Let me know if you're interested in looking at it.


----------



## Zad

> SSOM spell-approval sub-committee? Tell me more.



Well, it works like this. Bolo has a way of digging up obscure spells. And then springing them on everyone, and not necessarily with the intended effect. This is especially true of many of the more questionable spells in Masters of the Wild. The most notable occasion was when he tried to use Mandragorra.

I don't have the specifics in front of me, but in short, it will deafen those who fail the save, and grant true seeing to those who make the save. This includes your allies.

All the bad guys made their save, and Aethramyr I recall specifically failed his save and was deafened. It was at this time we determined that all new spells must be vetted by the Spell Approval Sub-committee to be reviewed for usefulness, danger to the party, and general munchkinism. 

Yes, this was entirely a joke. But a joke we still whip out. If you adventured with Bolo, you would too.


----------



## Aethramyr

*To Be Fair...*

To be fair to Bolo, The Entire incident was Ret-conned into oblivion, Along the episode-that-will-not-be-named. I'm not even sure if it is still in the story hour.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Aethramyr said:
			
		

> To be fair to Bolo, The Entire incident was Ret-conned into oblivion, Along the episode-that-will-not-be-named. I'm not even sure if it is still in the story hour.



Thanks Aethramyr! Spoken like a true Paladin. and friend to the bodyless. I want to know what I come back as!  

The situation was this. both Aethramyr and Bolo could only miss the save if they rolled a "1" for the save. _and that's just what both of us did_. Lord help me that set off a wave of "we have to approve any further spells" jokes. The funny part is I actually have a list of spells that are from different sources that I now have approved by Wizardru. 
So there


----------



## LordVyreth

Oh, I've been there myself.  I once made a spell that created an electric vortex that pulled anyone near into it while firing lightning bolts at the nearest target.  The problem was what happened when the fight moved around and the other players were a little closer to the spell than the baddies!  I could have dismissed the spell, but since I was already killed by this point (Oh, and by the way, what death is Bolo up to now?  At four deaths, my wizard Maelgoran might still have him beat, especially since none of those deaths were at all respectable "killed in melee with villain" deaths,) that wasn't an option.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Oh, and by the way, what death is Bolo up to now?  At four deaths, my wizard Maelgoran might still have him beat, especially since none of those deaths were at all respectable "killed in melee with villain" deaths that wasn't an option.




Death 1) Paragon fire elmental beholder.
Death 2) The Shadowtaker (took the bolt for Dravot.)
Death 3) Giant @#$^%%$#@ Spider squid thing from beyond.

Started life as a Halfling came back as an Elf. Die and Came back as a Centaur... but reality shifted and back as an Elf again
died this time and????????????????????????


----------



## pogre

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> Death 1) Paragon fire elmental beholder.
> Death 2) The Shadowtaker (took the bolt for Dravot.)
> Death 3) Giant @#$^%%$#@ Spider squid thing from beyond.
> 
> Started life as a Halfling came back as an Elf. Die and Came back as a Centaur... but reality shifted and back as an Elf again
> died this time and????????????????????????




  

So someone mentioned pictures...


----------



## LordVyreth

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> Death 1) Paragon fire elmental beholder.
> Death 2) The Shadowtaker (took the bolt for Dravot.)
> Death 3) Giant @#$^%%$#@ Spider squid thing from beyond.
> 
> Started life as a Halfling came back as an Elf. Die and Came back as a Centaur... but reality shifted and back as an Elf again
> died this time and????????????????????????




1) Knocked unconscious by enemy spell, then stabbed while down.
2) Killed by own party member's lightning bolt after a demon dominated me.
3) Killed when a giant leapt at my invisible form, sending us both plummeting 70 feet or so and squashing me.
4) Killed by a symbol of death that I saw in a reflection.

Oh, and lest I forgot, killed in the last game of the campaign by my own cohort, who turned out to be evil.  Not that it mattered, since I beat the entire universe's demise by about a minute.

I'd say I still win for now...


----------



## WizarDru

pogre said:
			
		

> So someone mentioned pictures...



Oh, right pictures....we can do that.   


Let's start with the Senate.  I think this speaks for itself, really.





That's the party in the lower left, there.  That's Scorch foolishly assembling the huddled masses of Shadow Stalkers.  The DM will reposition them shortly.   Scorch created the main part of the Senate, while Zad created the central dias and supporting steps for the center.​




The Obligatory Perspective Shot.  Here's an indication of how big the Senate actually is.  Notice Bolo smiling, as he hasn't died, yet.  Also notice the two custom battleboards that are supporting the senate, created by Scorch out of MDF and hard work.​




A closer shot from later in the combat.  Note Bolo in Unicorn wildshape, ponying up (get it?) to the giant spider.  Kuurnok has dismounted, and is on the far right, top rung (that's the minotaur death knight, thank you Blackdirge).  He's already unleashed his abyssal blast, to little effect against the Meepites.  Note how the shadowstalkers are unable to close the sizable distance to the party, thanks to dravot's spell.​
One should also note that we used duergar, drow and assorted shadowy type miniatures to represent the unnamed redshirt antagonists.  You will not the many spares located outside of the Senate on the battleboards, in case I had need of them.​




Detail shot here of the Spinner in Shadows itself.  Followers of Blackdirge's articles may recognize this unpleasant beastie, albeit modified for my game somewhat.  An emissary from the Far Realms, it's logic and reasoning were alien, as was its song.  To create this, I believe that Scorch acquired a Shelob action figure, and then mounted it on the wire-cut insulation piece you see here, that he first painted.  Cool, ain't it.  And yes, thos legs ARE articulated.  And NO, I don't have any shots of it holding Bolo.  ​
As it happens, this is the second or third time I tell Bolo damage numbers, and he says "Well, that's it.  I'm dead."  Cue me looking dumbfounded.  "What..._DEAD_ dead?"​



Unless I miss my guess, that's Kayleigh on the move.  Note the Sauron in the back?  That's Scorch in celestial mode (after he made sure no Judges were looking).  The warforged titan there is actually one of the Shields of Shalthis.  The part of Kaltin is played by Mordankanien. Note the rather nice detail work on the dias that Zad created, although I don't think the inlay work comes out too well in this shot.  Not also the detail of the columns and stairs on the Senate.  If you don't see this piece as impressive, then I simply cannot help you. ​
I'll leave most of the details to Scorch, Val and Zad, who are the experts on this stuff.  I will say that a close inspection of pictures 1 and 3 will show the separation lines, if you look closely.  Scorch wisely constructed the Senate in four pieces, for transporation and storage ease.  Despite it's size, the pieces are really quite light.  This design also allows for me to specify a circus maximus scenario, merely by having Scorch insert pieces between the corners.  AND I WILL MAKE SUCH A SCENARIO. One feels compelled, after all.​
ENJOY!​


----------



## WizarDru

In due time, I'll put up a link to a library, where you can see how the senate was constructed, as well.


----------



## dravot

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> 1) Knocked unconscious by enemy spell, then stabbed while down.
> 2) Killed by own party member's lightning bolt after a demon dominated me.
> 3) Killed when a giant leapt at my invisible form, sending us both plummeting 70 feet or so and squashing me.
> 4) Killed by a symbol of death that I saw in a reflection.
> 
> Oh, and lest I forgot, killed in the last game of the campaign by my own cohort, who turned out to be evil.  Not that it mattered, since I beat the entire universe's demise by about a minute.
> 
> I'd say I still win for now...




Bolo...I think you're being challenged.  Are you going to take this from Vyreth?


----------



## Zad

> Unless I miss my guess, that's Kayleigh on the move



You miss I'm afraid. That is Dravot on the move. I am fairly sure the mini is Dravot, and I'm quite sure that's his arm. Kayleigh is visible on one of the plastic thingies behind his arm. (The one that isn't a big black Sauron.)

My side of the construction was, and I must be honest here, fairly trivial from a Hirst-ian point of view. A simple 8x8 section of floor using the decorative floor tiles in an eye-pleasing arrangement. Like Pogre, we back our pieces on vinyl floor tiles and stick felt on the bottom. I made some stair segments that support it and that was easy too.

The paint job was the usual Hirst three layer work, but then the grey areas were masked off and a gloss black spraypaint applied for the black-marble look. A silver paint-pen then did the etching work and despite some mechanical failures of the pen it worked reasonably well. 

The arena construction will prove far more interesting a discussion.


----------



## Greybar

Wow, I'm impressed.  Well done!
I hope you guys are able to get a lot of reuse out of all this work.

john


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Greybar said:
			
		

> Wow, I'm impressed.  Well done!
> I hope you guys are able to get a lot of reuse out of all this work.
> 
> john



As long as I don't die each time we use it... i'm up for that.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

dravot said:
			
		

> Bolo...I think you're being challenged.  Are you going to take this from Vyreth?



um.... NO!


----------



## frostrune

*Wow!!!*

Hiya Meepites,

I've been following this thread for over a year now but had yet to comment for whatever reason.  

I can remain silent no longer.  

The 'Senate' you constructed was just too cool.  That must have been awesome to see that on the battle board.  VERY WELL DONE.

Frostrune


----------



## LordVyreth

WizarDru said:
			
		

> A closer shot from later in the combat.  Note Bolo in Unicorn wildshape, ponying up (get it?) to the giant spider.  Kuurnok has dismounted, and is on the far right, top rung (that's the minotaur death knight, thank you Blackdirge).  He's already unleashed his abyssal blast, to little effect against the Meepites.  Note how the shadowstalkers are unable to close the sizable distance to the party, thanks to dravot's spell.




Heh, it turns out you used one of my suggestions without knowing it.  I originally gave Blackdirge the idea for the minotaur death knight.  I introduced him into my game as well last weekend, albeit in a completely different way.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

frostrune said:
			
		

> Hiya Meepites,
> 
> I've been following this thread for over a year now but had yet to comment for whatever reason.
> 
> I can remain silent no longer.
> 
> The 'Senate' you constructed was just too cool.  That must have been awesome to see that on the battle board.  VERY WELL DONE.
> 
> Frostrune



Thanks Frostrune. Welcome to the fold. I myself am always impressed with Scorch, Zad and Valenthe's Abilities.


----------



## Scorch

*Construction of the Senate*

The construction of the Senate was pretty fun.  I knew we had a lot of down time between games so I decided to go all out on its construction.  This was a proof of concept for me to see how I can constuct Very Large scale set pieces.  I was just finishing up my Weathertop Large piece (about one foot square) when the need for the Senate came up.  WizarDru will post a link to the photo album showing the pictures I took during construction and I will add commentary of how I did each step.

Scorch


----------



## pogre

Greybar said:
			
		

> Wow, I'm impressed.  Well done!
> I hope you guys are able to get a lot of reuse out of all this work.
> 
> john




Re-use? bah, a minor consideration 

Besides man, I think I hear a chariot being pulled by 4 Arabian horses approaching now! This absolutely deserves a Ben Hur style scenario!

Oh yeah, I'm jealous - how can I top that effort?! I am certainly inspired to try. Great job Scorch, _et al_!


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Soon... Soon I will rise. Reborn in a new form. (I hope it's not a Kobold.)


----------



## dravot

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> Soon... Soon I will rise. Reborn in a new form. (I hope it's not a Kobold.)



Bolo's back!  He's not a Kobold.  Drat.  I want my bribe money back.


----------



## Len

dravot said:
			
		

> Bolo's back!  He's not a Kobold.  Drat.  I want my bribe money back.



So _what is he??_

My guess is water elemental.


----------



## dravot

Len said:
			
		

> So _what is he??_
> 
> My guess is water elemental.



....Heeeeeeeeeeeeere's Janni!


----------



## Zad

*Down with the Dead Men - Chapter 6*

*Down with the Dead Men – Chapter 6*

*OOC Notes:*

Exp from last session: for 24th is 2000, 23rd is 2550, and 22 is 3700.

Exp for this session: for 24th is 1200, 23rd is 1530 and 22 is 2200.

*This Week’s Adventure:*

Very little time had passed before a crack split the air. Then a tremor. Then another. The domes seemed to be shaking and shattering, whether by design of Chavram or revenge of the betrayed. We began moving towards the dome we entered through and while in the connecting tubes, I could see one of the larger domes rising in pieces through the murky water. The tunnels had broken free in some areas. Then more creaking noises that sounded more like a scream as another dome released a cloud of bubbles. There were figures swarming over the dome as bodies of dead drow floated out. I couldn’t precisely see them but from they way they were swimming they could only be kua-toa.

We wasted no further time poking around and moved to the exit as fast as we could. By the time we emerged, most of the rays and other guardians had fled and those that remained were too distracted to care much about us, and we had no opposition as our swarm moved away from the disaster and towards something dryer.

As we moved away, Dravot received a sending. _Friend of dragons, I would entreat with you to gain a neutral status and ensure you now that my contract is served I bear you no ill will. Shalthis._

At first we were in too much of a rush to realize the meaning, but upon second thought it was clear: Shalthis was merely hired to guard this area and was worried we would come after her. While I am not above revenge, I would say in this case none of us had even given her a second thought. Dravot replied _If you do not oppose us, we shall not pursue your destruction._

Of course that didn’t mean she was getting those guardians back. I was really starting to like them. They just need to be smaller.

Once on land, we split up. Scorch and Aethramyr took Bolo’s corpse (so to speak) back to Ruun’Khazai and his small grove there, while the rest of us went to Brindinford. 

[OOC Note: Bolo’s internal organs had been liquefied and sucked out of his body, leaving just an empty skin. Many jokes about rolling him up and putting him in a backpack and “the Bolo suit” (in memory of the Edgar suit) followed.]

Upon arrival at Ruun’Khazai, they found Marcus waiting for them. Marcus took the body gently and said “the process” would take an hour, perhaps two depending on the form chosen. Apparently Marcus was intent on reincarnating him, and that was just fine.

Aethramyr then went to speak to the drow enclave. He was concerned that the events in the underdark might have repercussions to the drow at Ruun’Khazai. He found Sirssus checking on the silk harvest with approval, as the new trade treaties with the surrounding countries made it very profitable for commerce.

[OOC Note: The profitable trade treaty, known as the “For god’s sake please don’t kill us” accord of 1494, supplemented by the “We swear we weren’t looking at you funny” amendment a year later, allowed for the profitable flow of goods to and from Ruun’Khazai.]

After some time, Aethramyr and Scorch returned to the grove to check on Bolo. Scorch, for his part, was in parts unknown for the last two hours, but was now in a near manic frenzy. Either he had been eating those strange beans again or something else had happened. He was babbling quite a bit, but in a generally ignorable kind of way. 

Later when he was raving about arcane formulas, I made out just enough to be confused. So I cast a quick _Detect Magic_ and was stunned. I might not have recognized what I saw, save for having seen it before. It was just a simple spell – ancient really. A basic _Mage Armor_ and hardly noteworthy for that. But the sheer power and magnitude was beyond anything commonly held as being possible. Then it all suddenly made sense – Scorch had unlocked the secret of transvalent magic. He had finally deciphered the spells we took from the ShadowTaker. The ones that were beyond all accepted limits of the arcane art. And with this realization, one more quickly followed.

There’d be no living with him now.

Oh well, no help for it. When Scorch and Aethramyr found Marcus, he was sitting on a rock discussing something with a seven foot tall fellow with copper-red skin wearing off-sized robes. 

Bolo was now a janni. Scorch plainly asked why, every time he dies, he comes back as something taller.

---

In Brindinford, there was a minor festival going on. A variety of puppet shows filled the square and vendors hawked their goods, and this made the arrival rather pleasant. We hurried along to the estate and started getting information.

Dravot’s brother Gerrin reported that the Overking was still not in the capital. The undead had abandoned Kalstrand as an organized force but the Overking had not yet raised an army to reclaim it. He was of course trying. At this point his power is reduced to something more like a regional warlord and Brindinford is operating mostly as an independent territory. The Overking has requested assistance but the messages have so far been ignored. 

Thora was somewhat suspicious of Kaltin. Understandable, considering what happened the last time a dead brother returned. I set about discussing the matter with the Binder while Dravot researched the circumstances surrounding Roget’s death. Prince Faruhd claimed that he was no longer bound by Chavram, and while he should be under Kaltin’s control right now, he is not, since Kaltin violates the requirements. Chavram controls the Abjuration and Necromancy binders as well as the Ninth binder. He was unable to acquire the enchantment binder despite trying – someone got there first. It was supposed to be in Celene in the mountains on her northern borders. This is why Chavram went through that area on the way to Geoff. 

Chavram also sought the Conjuration binder but was unable to take possession of it – it is currently in Rauxes.  Orcus holds sway in Rauxes, now a demi-plane adjacent to the Prime, and the master of undead could easily take control of Chavram if he were to have the chance.

Dravot returned from digging in the family archives. It was clear that his father and grandfather became more distant around the time of Roget’s death. There is no clear statement on the cause of his death. He also learned that the crypts in Brindinford are not the original crypts of the family, just the ones they have used since taking stewardship of Brindinford. The original house shrine was located at the previous family estate. 

I looked at him, lost. “And where was the previous family estate?”

He just looked at me and waited.

I thought a moment. “Wait wait. Don’t tell me. Rauxes.”

He nodded once. I sighed hard. 

We went to the crypts to examine the supposed remains of Roget. It was easy to determine that while there was a body in the crypt, it was not Roget. As for what this meant, I had no idea.

The next matter to attend to was the removal of the binder. There were many reasons to consider this a high priority not the least of which was if someone else found out we had it, they would likely remove it from Kaltin’s head in a manner not designed to further his general health. We learned from the binder that Chavram used the power of the Necromancy binder to shape Kaltin’s flesh open and then place the binder inside. While the binders were powerful in their class, they seemed to reflect abilities that were not beyond skilled practitioners of that art. So to discuss matters of shaping the flesh of the dead, there was only one place to go: The Temple of Wee Jas.

They gladly received us, and we discussed not only the removal of the artifact (unnamed, thankfully) but also the rituals that might reverse the animus process and return Kaltin to normal. The priests were of course anxious to help the local noble as well as explore the academic issues in this new field. There was a brother there who was skilled in the shaping of flesh, and he agreed to make the attempt despite wariness about the artifact.

Brother Sawbone took some hours to prepare, then took us to one of their warded rooms for the procedure. It took nearly an hour to slowly open his skull then close it again, and while the entire process was revolting, I had to admire the subtlety and skill of Brother Sawbone. Kaltin was badly hurt in the process but the were able to “cure” him of the injuries. Their work was thoroughly impressive.

As for the binder, it was in the shape of a ring. I immediately took possession of it lest anything ill happen.

While Kaltin rested, Dravot and the priests began examining the second subject: his state of unlife and the possible reversal. I noted at points that both Dravot and the clerics of Wee Jas impressed each other with their respective knowledge of things undead. Even knowing his passions, I suspect the clerics underestimated the depth of his study. After consulting with Chavram’s notes and logs, Dravot is sure that not only is Kaltin not completely an animus, but that he was specifically left in this state where the process would be reversible. The ritual would be complex, but Dravot believed with some help that his brother could be restored to life. 

Kaltin was of course rather keen to be back among the living, despite the risks. It took the better part of a day to prepare, and some eight hours to actually conduct the ceremony as well as the combined skills of Dravot, Aethramyr, Thorkeld, and two priests of Wee Jas. The balancing and cleansing of his negative energies was extremely complicated and I can’t say I understood it. They had to slowly leech off the negative energy within him, cleanse it to a neutral state, then return it to him. Then the process repeated cleansing the neutral energy to positive energy. In between, he was in great danger, as the unbiased energy was almost inadequate to keeping him alive. 

But despite some missteps, Dravot succeeded. Kaltin was cured. He was a man again. He would be weak for a fortnight most likely and very sensitive to energies. And Dravot was completely exhausted, but gratified nonetheless.

I sent Dravot to bed and stayed up to watch over Kaltin. And while I did, I started going over some reading material we’d taken from the ShadowTaker. He was one of the mages who created the binders – if there was a way to destroy them, it should be here.

And after several hours of reading, I was sure it was. I just couldn’t understand it. Academic learning was never my strongest suit, and the arcane theory was beyond anything I could make any sense out of. So after isolating several key passages, I took the collection to Scorch.

Who, I must note, was still raving about insanity beans.

Beans aside, he made quick sense out of the notes. And within a few minutes he had worked out ways that we could destroy the binder and release the djinn. Prince Faruhd, for his part, seemed relieved though he said nothing. I suspect that while he knew two others had been released, he was not overly optimistic about his own fate. Perhaps he thought that once I had control of a binder, especially one I found so personally appealing, that I would be unwilling to give up the power it afforded. I can’t honestly say I was totally untempted. I did ask the prince if he could teach me any more illusion spells but he said it just didn’t work that way.

But that didn’t mean we weren’t going to release him. Scorch determined that the binder could be broken at one of several places of power, including Toreg Balu where they were made. Of course that was in the vast desert left by the twin cataclysms. The Valley of the Mage was another possibility. (Most “Jonathan” jokes were suppressed at this point.)

But after running through the entire list, one leader quickly emerged. The location of the Great Map was a candidate, and one whom we had direct access to and indeed just plain knew the location of. The act would require several powerful spellcasters which we had available, and a tool suitable to the sundering of the rings. 

We rallied at the Great Map. Gold dragons were in the form of local wildlife while elves patrolled the area. The gulthite growths had been completely removed. Indeed there were few sightings of Gulthias horrors these days. The serum Scorch had concocted worked very well, and any remainders were likely isolated loners rather than an organized force.

We set up in the room and I restored the binder to full size. As one, Bolo, Aethramyr, Scorch, Dravot and I all worked to suppress the magic containing the djinn prince. The rings slowed gradually and quietly came to a stop in mid air and time felt like it held still. Then Aethramyr slowly drew Shatterspike back, and brought the blade down hard once on each of the three rings. There was no crack visible, no chip, no break. But I knew the blows had landed true. Aethramyr sheathed the blade and stepped back. In a moment, the rings began moving again. But as they turned faster and faster, suddenly there was a sharp crack in the air. A heartbeat later one ring flew off in pieces across the room, and once it was gone the other two quickly followed. 

Of course the only person to get hit was Bolo. But the wound was slight. I suspect he doesn’t realize how tall he is now.

Prince Faruhd stood before us, free. He bowed deeply. “Thank you for your help, and your honor. I assure you that you have a friend now should you come to my estates.” He then turned to the Great Map and they had an exchange that we could not understand. 

Bolo asked “Prince Faruhd, how did the mages compel you to agree to this in the first place?”

“They threatened us. They threatened to release the water primal. The damage would be great to both worlds but that didn’t stop them. In the end we agreed.”

“The water primal… that’s the one under Kalstrand,” I remarked casually. On the great map, a location flashed. I raised an eyebrow.

“The Map knows the locations of all the primals. That is one of its secondary functions,” the Prince said. 

We exchanged frustrated looks with each other. All this time and the map was under our noses. But it raised another question which I put to the map. “Do you wish to be released? There is no function for you now – all the binders have been moved.”

The Map declined. “I was the first, and I shall be the last. When my brethren are all free, then I shall go. Not before.”

“I still can’t understand why Chavram just handed you over to us. Did you hear him say why?” I asked Prince Faruhd.

“I cannot say for sure. However when one carries a binder too long, things begin to go… wrong. I believe the Sule emperor and his courtiers were afraid of the power they represented, and made it such that they would change hands and move about.”

The Prince then stepped closer to me and said quietly “I am slightly surprised you gave my power up so easily. Illusion is a talent of the elves and one you have wielded before. Yet you gave up this ultimate power with no hesitation.”

“I was tempted Prince. But while the power tempts me, the binders frighten me. They frighten me far more than they tempt me. The world is safer without such things. And then there are the Princes. You and your kind, trapped for centuries. It breaks my heart to see you so imprisoned. I would not have power at that price.”

Prince Faruhd nodded quietly in thanks. “But,” I added, “if you wanted to teach me a good illusion before you go, I wouldn’t say no.” And I just grinned.

He smiled back. “I must depart before I am forced to. I thank you all again for my release. Please visit me when you can.” And we all knew exactly where his home was.

The Prince disappeared just before the Judges arrived. They arrived calm but prepared, but knew that their quarry had departed and nodded. But before they left, they turned their gaze on Bolo. 

Oh no.

They moved towards him. Bolo’s voice had only an edge of concern “I’m native to this plane. I was reincarnated!”

The Judges did not find this relevant. They touched him with their staves and Bolo twitched in pain. This was not going to end well at this rate. When Bolo did not disappear from the plane, they paused. Then they went to strike him again.

“ENOUGH!” I yelled, with steel in my voice and an arrow on my string. “He is of this plane. Cease your actions or you shall have to fight us. You know who we are, and you know that this is a threat to take seriously.”

It was, of course, a stone cold bluff. I was trying to get their attention, to make them stop and talk or face a grim battle that they would lose. (And we would if we fought it.) 

They turned to me. “The law is the law. He violates the law.” It was supposed to be a statement. In fact it was a plea. They were bound by the law but wanted to help.

“Call Meltorannan.” It was supposed to be a threat. In fact it was saying _I understand and don’t want to hurt you._

Meltorannan came quickly. He looked around and understood. He had more of his own will than most Judges but he was still a servant of his deity. “I sympathize with your situation. But he violates the law. He must leave.”

Again, the message was clear. _I am bound by the law. But there is a way._

I thank Corellean I saw it fast enough. “We wish to appeal the ruling.”

Meltorannan had the flash of the smallest smile on his impassive face. “Your appeal will be heard.”

We appeared once again on the shores of the Nyr Dyv. There were dozens of Judges in the sky flying in formation. On the shore was Chance, the Gambler, and avatar of Ralishaz.

“This Court of Appeals is now in session.”


----------



## Funeris

Great couple of updates.  And the pics of the senate were magnificent.  Good work Scorch et. al.


----------



## Sandain

Thankyou for the updates Zad, this game was the main source of inspiration for my Greyhawk game.


----------



## dravot

*Game night!*

Game night!

Everyone dig out your Perry Mason soundtracks...it's court time.  The Honorable Judge Judy presiding.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

I had not expected this.... To find out that I have HIS blood in my veins. To find that I'm partialy a Great One.....


----------



## Nifft

Your teasers do not tempt me in the slightest. No sir. Not impatient at all.

 -- N


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Nifft said:
			
		

> Your teasers do not tempt me in the slightest. No sir. Not impatient at all.
> 
> -- N



Mwahahahahaha! I can say that now with some authority.


----------



## pogre

Alright, now this is getting annoying - 

[Booming Voice]"Zad to the writing chair with you![/voice]


----------



## Zad

*Fire in the Blood - Chapter 1*

Hey I'm workin' on it 


*Fire in the Blood *

*Chapter 1*

*OOC Notes:*
Exp is TBD

*Rules changes:*
The Death by Massive Damage rule is hereby not applicable to anything considered “epic” or over 20 hit dice.

Also such creatures no longer die when their hit points reach -10. Instead of 10, it’s now equal to their level or hit dice. (So for instance, Kayleigh will not die til she reaches -23 hit points.)

*This Week’s Adventure:*
I wasn’t certain if this was simply a location of convenience, or was in some way sanctified to Ralishaz. The very air was thick with judges and Bolo had merited a guard detail that kept a discreet distance. I could barely see Dyvers in the distance through the haze many miles away.

We were standing within the outline of a square traced on the ground in energy. Chance hovered overhead but was changed. She was still a woman over six feet tall with greenish skin, but she had a more pearlescent look to her now, and she was wrapped in white silks that flowed around her. They fluttered in the breeze coming off the choppy Nyr Dyv and she looked regal indeed. For a moment I mourned the loss of her more playful nature, but she is a creature of divine will and perhaps doesn’t even notice the difference.

She looked down with not entirely cold eyes and for a moment I saw a wry smile. Perhaps her playfulness is not gone but simply muted. She spoke with a commanding, official voice. _“Your Petition For An Audience Has Been Granted. Speak.”_

Bolo said “Thank you My Lady. It appears there is an issue with my new body. I am assuming that you know who I am. I was a Halfling at the time.”

Her skin flushed to red and her aspect changed to a taller man. Her silks became his leathers and the symbol on the ground became a triangle. It was Gamble now.

_“We Are Aware Of Who You Are, Brandybuck.”_

Bolo nodded. “Unfortunately I met a rather gruesome but temporary end earlier this week and, as is our way, I was reincarnated, but this time as a Jann. But I am still Bolo Brandybuck. I was born and raised here.”

Gamble was unmoved. _“This Is A Matter Of Unmitigated, Unbending Law. You Have Returned In A Form That Is Against The Law. The Circumstances Are Irrelevant. We Are Bound By Mutual Agreement By Deities Of Different Aspects To Enforce This Law. It Cannot Be Bent Merely By Favoritism.”_

Scorch, sensing that a “spirit of the law” argument was not going to be even remotely effective, stepped in to examine the letter of the law. “Is the objection to his mere existence or due to the material from which he is made?”

Again, the arbiter’s form shifted. Metal replaced leather and a circle replaced the triangle. _It Is Not Merely A Matter Of Energy.”_

“Well if it’s a matter of his soul, the soul is native to this plane.”

_“His Reincarnation Overrides That Fact. Reincarnation Draws Material From Whatever Source It Needs. He Is No Longer Of The Prime.”_

Dravot suppressed a smirk. “Then why do the judges become unhappy with Scorch when he takes the form of a solar?”

_“It Offends Them.”_

Sensing an opening, I chimed in. “So it _is_ a matter of preference and not the law?”

Cheat showed no emotion. _“When He Takes The Form Of A Solar With That Powerful Spell, He Absorbs Some Of The Essence Of The Outsider.”_

Scorch continued. “What about the judges? Are they considered native to the Prime now?”

_“They Are Native To The Prime.”_

“Well can Bolo be considered in the same category?”

_“No. The Judges Are Specifically Exempted, As Are The Others.”_

Looks were quickly exchanged and Aethramyr spoke first. “Others? What others?”

_“The Forlorn. Those Without Gods. The Dragons. They Cannot Have Gods And Therefore Are Not Bound By The Accord.”_

Scorch said “Well if exceptions can be made, perhaps the accord needs to be extended or amended.”

The body shifted back to Chance. _“That Would Require A New Agreement To Be Forged, And The Current One Dissolved First. The Odds Of Such An Event Are… Small.”_

Bolo was becoming frustrated. “What if I become a judge? Or swear to Ralishaz?”

_“No. One Who Has The Blood Of Dydd Cannot Become A Judge.”_

“Well where did the blood of Dydd come from? What makes it special?”

_“We Do Not Know.”_

Over the mental link, Scorch began asking Valanthe to slip away from the proceedings to check on something. But before they got very far, I casually mentioned “You don’t think they can hear you now?” Scorch looked sheepishly at Chance.

Chance looked back. _“Just So We Are Clear Here, Twenty Miles Away In Dyvers, Someone Is Playing A Dice Game.”_ Chance snapped her fingers sharply. _“They Just Lost.”_

_“The Exceptions Are Clear. He Must Be One Of The Forlorn, Or A Judge, Or Not Be An Outsider.”_

_[OOC Excursion: And someone asked “So if he died again and reincarnates again in another form, that’s acceptable?” And Bolo started objecting. And I turned to Wizardru and said “Ok how about this. You’re the betting type. I bet if we just give it…say…two weeks, the problem will sort itself out on its own.”_

_Hilarity ensues.]_

I asked a few questions about why it had taken so long for the judges to act on his presence. It was revealed that normally an extraplanar place such as Ru’un Khazai would be wiped from the earth but for reasons I can only describe as sentimental, Ralishaz ordered it left alone. The judges apparently look the other way due to this and do not patrol the area vigorously.

Dravot uttered a few words, and he quickly turned into a wooden root and sank into the ground. Before we could even express confusion, he returned, growing out of the ground and returning to his normal form. He was holding an eerily familiar red and white fruit and I could immediately make out its alluring scent.

Dravot looked at Bolo. “Ehlonna says hello. She says there is a solution here but she wants to see if you’ll figure it out for yourself. Eventually I’m allowed to reveal it.”

I could detail what followed, but it would probably be more direct to just skip to “Eventually”. The solution lay with Lord Gelban.

“Gelban?!?” Bolo said. “I don’t understand.” But lacking other ideas, he attempted to contact him. After a few moments, he gained a portion of Lord Gelban’s attention.

After Bolo gave a quick explanation, Lord Gelban just said “I’ll be right there.”

The skies grew dark and the clouds swirled and out of the funnel came Lord Gelban in dragon form diving to the earth. He smashed into the ground at the shore, and standing up out of the crater was Lord Gelban in golden armor with a golden cloak in his human form. 

He said quietly to Bolo “I’m glad you contacted me.” Then to the assembly “I would put in a petition on behalf of the Brandybuck. He is a descendant of Dydd, and therefore part red dragon, and thereby not in violation.”

He handed Bolo a red scaled wristband. Bolo simply looked at it in confusion until Lord Gelban muttered “Put it on.” The wristband adhered to his skin and caught fire, and slowly began pulsing with red energy.

The form shifted back to Chance. _“This Is Acceptable Testimony. Let It Be Entered Into The Record With Proof Provided. He Is One Of The Forlorn And Thus Not In Violation. As Blood Of Ashardalon, You Are Hereby Exempt. I, __Opportunity__, Have Spoken. This Court Stands Adjourned.”_

The avatar(s) faded away, after politely asking if we needed transportation. The guard and the other judges dispersed and we were left on the shores with Lord Gelban.

“So Dydd is Ashardalon’s offspring. Fascinating.”

Lord Gelban nodded. “Indeed. Ashardalon has a weakness for those of his descent. Know also that he has emerged from the Durance Vile and is taking part in the war, mostly in battles on other planes.”

“So how powerful is Ashardalon?” I asked. 

“It is difficult to say. I believe I could defeat him, but that may come at the cost of my own life. Were I to fight him, I would prefer to have help. You must realize he is viewed as the worst kind of coward in the eyes of all dragons, good and evil alike. He fears death and will do anything to avoid it.”

We took some time to exchange information. The Underdark, what little Lord Gelban knew about it, was a seething cauldron of war. The Githyanki have been very quiet. Some cities are all but abandoned. And the Silverring was still asleep, and the People of the Testing unable to reach him.

When our conversations were complete, we each separated to attend to our own business. Having no desire to return to Kobold Country, I returned to Celene while the others scattered to various parts of the world. But it seems that cursed place has a habit of drawing us to it. A few days later, I was told of a disturbing presence that required our attention.

We found the githyanki standing idly in the square. He had been asking to speak to “the liberators”. His skin was not pale yellow but bright red and had the slightest hint of scales, although he did not look like one of the usual Duthka Gith.

As we approached, he produced the pieces of a silver sword, broken half way down the blade. He dropped them on the ground. “I am the Thezziz of the Waking Dream. I am here for you to kill me.”

We stared.

“I am here for you to kill me.”

Aethramyr said “Why would we wish to kill you?”

“I was supposed to kill you and I failed. You left me for dead in one of your battles. Since you are probably going to battle my people, I thought you should start with me since there is no way I can kill you now. You are beyond my power.”

Aethramyr said “We attacked in retaliation. We attacked to defend our homes. We have defended them. We have no wish to attack further unless we are again threatened.”

The Thezziz sneered. “Oh yes. You attacked. And then you abandoned us.”

“Your general seemed to have things under control.”

The Thezziz laughed wryly. “He is not my general. Were you also this helpful to the drow?”

Aethramyr shook his head. “We didn’t do anything to the drow.”

“The civil war has led to desperate times. I swore once I would kill you when I saw in a premonition that you would destroy everything dear to me. But instead of me killing you, you left me for dead after killing all my men.”

I sighed deeply. “There is much here we do not understand. And we will not act without understanding. If you wish to be destroyed, that is your choice. But first you will have to explain all this. From the beginning.”

He nodded. “From the beginning then…”


----------



## WizarDru

A brief note:  Longtime readers may recall that we've met the Thezziz of the Waking Dream in prologue before.  He's changed a bit, since then.  The PCs never knew him as an individual.

 Quite a bit happened in this session with individuals, including Guild Business, A conversation with Fraz, Tea and Cakes with Ehlonna and a few other things.  Hopefully they'll be detailed by those involved, but if not, I'll fill in the details later.

 Chance, Gamble and Cheat have now become Opportunity, Uncertainty and Imbalance, I believe (my notes are at home).  Each has, essentially, acquired Divine Rank 0.  The observant will note they correspond to NG, N and NE, respectively.

 Kayleigh's suspcions are correct.  The lakeshore of the Nyr Dyv is Ralishaz's Place of Ascension, and as such is sanctified.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

The air was sweet as Bolo made his way to the First Ash. The ancient trees cast an emerald glow as the bright sunlight passed through leaves the size of small buildings. The Elder Treants stood unmoving drinking in the light. Bolo could only think of them as the ultimate worshipers of Pelor and Beory combined. He smiled and the act felt good. He had smiled very little since the trial. 

Tailcatcher rushed to his friend knowing Bolo from his energy not his form. The druid laughed as the St. Cuthbert dog bowled him over. Picking himself up and kissing Tailcatcher on the nose Bolo continued to the Ash. He needed to speak to the wisest being he knew and that was Alara the guardian of the First Ash. 

They spoke for some time about the metaphysics of druidic magic and the Primals but Bolo really wanted to talk about Dydd. “Alara I’m confused. I understood Dydd to be a Halfling like I am, sorry, was. But she was a red dragon? 

“No Brandybuck, She was half dragon and half Halfling. I did not have the honor of meeting her myself but I knew her to be the kindest and best person, a true power for good.” Alara said.

Bolos face scowled a bit. “I have the blood of Ashardalon flowing in me. I’m not sure how I feel about it.”

“Do you fear it? Do you think it makes you destined for evil? Dydd did not. She felt the dragon’s blood was an honor what ever dragon it came from.” 

“I’m glad to hear that but that is not my concern. I have always looked at the Great Ones as a core power in the world almost an extension of the elemental energies and their bond with the world. Now I find in some small way I’m linked directly to them. I’m exhilarated and yet fearful for my family. Now I understand why the Brandybucks are such targets. Geo especially. My family is so fractured. Most are living in the Grove of Beory while my son whom they don’t even know about and his mother live in Kobold Country. I need to do something about this but I don’t know if this should even be done. Having them apart makes the whole safer until my ancestor is destroyed.” Bolo sighed and stroked Tailcatcher’s fur. “I have much thinking to do.”

The guardian of the Ash stood up and kissed Bolo motherly on the head. “I will leave you to your musings young druid. I have to say though your new form is quite pleasing. I especially like the turban you are sporting now.”

Bolo grinned. “That is actually a bandage. I’m so tall now that I sometimes forget to duck. I’m clocked myself on more than a few tree limbs in the past few days.” And they both laughed.


----------



## dravot

*My Lunch with Ehlonna*

Dravot's Journal

 We stood on the banks of the Nyr Dyv and argued for what seemed like hours. The judges had a circular logic that led them to their conclusion: Bolo must either die, or be banished from his beloved Prime. I shook my head in disbelief that the Gods would be so short-sighted in their Compact to allow such a thing to occur.

 The entire time, I couldn’t shake one notion…how would Ehlonna select such a form for Bolo without knowing that this might happen? Surely, She wouldn’t do this if there wasn’t an out, but in my most introspective moment I couldn’t figure out what it would be.

 In my heart of hearts, in order to protect my friend, there was only one thing I could do. I knew that Bolo would be irked, and Chavram would be livid, but I had to protect my friend, and by extension help the Prime through it’s crises. I wasn’t completely sure it would work, but I invoked a _Miracle_, asking Pelor for permission to speak with Ehlonna.

 Pelor saw the wisdom in my request, and I knew that it had been granted when I felt a small bit of my life force drained and the _Miracle_ was granted. I felt a strange sensation, as my feet sank into the ground and the sun took on a new meaning for me.

 I then found myself in a mountain meadow. The sun was warm and inviting, and the air smelled of late spring: full of hope and promise. I heard a brook not far away, burbling merrily away. Just off to the left I saw the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.

*“Welcome, Dravot. Please come and sit with me while we eat and discuss matters of the Prime.”*

 She looked at me with hungry eyes. I briefly wondered who would be more betrayed if I took her up on that look: Pelor or my betrothed? Ehlonna read my countenance and laughed at the notion that I’d look upon such a tryst in purely theological terms. “I am a product of my upbringing, and the worship of my God” was my reply, as I tried not to blush.

 In any case, I enjoyed a lovely afternoon tea with Her, including farnocakes exactly like I ate growing up. As we ate, we talked about what was going on.


*“Of course I know why you're here, but I would be most pleased to hear about it in your own words.”*

   "Certainly.  We find ourselves in a difficult mind, as Bolo's very existence on the Prime has offended those who protect it from Outsider influence.  I have trust in Your wisdom, my Lady, but I confess that I am confused at Your choice for Bolo's reincarnation.  It does us no good to have Bolo banished from the Prime, nor does it do anyone good to have him killed, reincarnation or not."

 She smiled and my entire world consisted of her face. The smell of the mountain flowers was the scent of her hair, and the burble of the brook almost caused me to lose my concentration and …hrm…the very memory of that moment still has a strong affect upon me. Anyway, she smiled and spoke.“*Ah, my dear, sweet Bolo. He’s such an impetuous young man. I love that aspect of him. That spirit should be a part of more people. Yes, I chose this form for him for a reason. It will come in handy at some point in the future.”*

   I raised an eyebrow at her, and she tut-tutted me into remaining quiet. She continued,*"If Bolo were to go off of the Prime, he would still serve Me quite well, but he is indeed still needed there. I would not have chosen that form without knowing that he’d be safe in it. As with the other Gods, I agreed to observe the Compact"*

   This was news to me.  In retrospect, it isn't that surprising, but I admit that I hadn't taken the cooperation of the other Gods into consideration when I first learned of the Compact.

   “So what would that reason be?”

   Again, she smiled, and my world focused solely on her.*"Lord Gelban knows. Ask him to attend you, and all will be revealed.”*

   This startled me a bit, but since I've started dining with the Gods, my surprise was nowhere near as much as it might have been in times past.
*“Oh, and do be a dear…I want to see if Bolo can figure it out. If he doesn’t, please ask for Gelban’s help. I’ve left enough clues for dear Bolo over time, but I guess We’ll have to cut this game short. More’s the pity…”*
   I smiled back at her.  I'd never been a willing participant in a Divine joke before, and I liked it.

   I bowed before her and agreed to do just that. She smiled at me one last time, and I was back on the Prime.



_Argh...The color switch is causing all kinds of problems...hopefully this time it'll work out._


----------



## Scorch

*Inside Scorch's Head*

Zad does an awesome job at writing our story hour.  Unfortunately since it is from Kayleigh's point of view a lot of stuff that happens outside of her view is left out and it is up to the rest of us to fill in some of the blanks.  The other player's in WizarDru's game do contribute to fill in these holes but I have not done so up until now.  The reason is that most of what I do in private is done offline with WizarDru through email so that not even the other players know what the heck Scorch is up to.  Last game we had about an hour of role-playing focusing on Scorch and the organizational challenge of running the Guild.  As such I have decided to take up the pen and write a side-Story Hour from Scorch's point of view. 

Please note:  Some characters and situations are mentioned here that have not shown up on the story hour.  I would be willing to answer any questions people may have about them.  Currently there are two documents WizarDru and I have been passing back and forth concerning the Guild and the Hand.

Enjoy:

A soft snap of air preceded Scorch and his companion’s arrival back at Ru’un Khazai.  Aethramyr, Bolo, and Dravot arranged around him looking momentarily confused by the fact that when the wizard said he would teleport them back to Kobold Country that he did not have them join hands as was normal with a teleportation spell.  Time and distance were becoming relative in Scorch’s mind when it came to magic and such small requirements were becoming unnecessary.

As usual the small town was a study in chaos.  People of the various humanoid and non-humanoid races bustled about, most taking no heed at the group’s arrival in the town square.  Scorch noted that the water fountain in the center of the square had acquired some more carvings of kobolds and wolves.  

During the aftermath of the hearing, Dravot had asked Scorch if he knew anything about the powerful necromantic spell, Soul Bind.  Scorch was somewhat taken aback for two reasons at the question.  One, it was a spell that was already accessible to clerics, and two, it was necromantic in nature. 

“Why would you need to know about this spell?” the wizard inquired, some paranoid part of his brain wondering if this was a morality test of some sort sprung upon him by the cleric.

“My grandfather has access to both arcane and divine powers.  I can access the divine version of this spell, though it is repugnant to me, but know nothing of the arcane version.” Dravot paused and then looked away from Scorch.  “I would like to know what he knows of both variants of the spell”.

“Ah!” thought Scorch.  The possibilities opened up by the question answered his own.  The cleric was beginning to think outside the box as to how to deal with his animus relative.  Scorch had an array of possible solutions he had thought up months ago but he knew that most of them would seem repugnant in the eyes of the cleric, the paladin, and possibly the druid.  Their recent encounter with Chavram and his revelations of his plans for his grandson had rattled Dravot.  He was now ready to make sacrifices to his precious morality in order to do what needed to be done.

“The Library should hold all that you need.  We will need to gain access to the more… restricted portions of it.” said Scorch “In any event we need to return to Ru’un Khazai.”

Aethramyr and Bolo had elected to go back with them.  Valanthe begged off saying that she had some shopping she wished to do.  Kayleigh, as usual, would have nothing to do with Kobold Country.

Scorch found himself drawn back to the present when the heated words of an argument carried over the usual murmur of the town.

“I’LL KILL YOU!” came a scream from a nearby building.  This was succeeded by the door of the structure bulging outward and then shattering as a man in robes was used as a battering ram by a heavier fellow armed with a shield.

Scorch and his companions made there way over to what looked to be a fist fight.

“What is going on here?” asked Aethramyr quietly.

It was if a silence spell had been cast in the area following his words.  When the Paragon spoke, the citizens of Kobold Country tended to listen.

Scorch peered around the large man who had pushed the hapless on the ground through the door.  The building was obviously a brewery of some sort.  The sign hanging above the door announced the business as the “Wolf and Kobold” with a painting of the namesake above the words.  

“A very popular theme, it seems.” noted Scorch.

“Err… hmm… begging your pardons, m’lords,” mumbled (what Scorch assumed to be) the brew-meister, “but this mage here seemed to think that casting a ball of fire in my brewery would be a good idea.”

Scorch glanced down at the man on the ground who seemed to have trouble getting back up again.  He recognized him as Murgen, a wizard of middling level who worked as a scribe in the Guild.

“What is this all about, Murgen?” asked Scorch.

“Well, Guild Minish’tur… welllllll… Guild Minish’tur.” slurred Murgen “I thought that a shhhhh’pelll of the third valunsh would scherve to sch’peed up the brewing proshush.”

The miasma of alcohol and the prone wizard’s slurred speech was all Scorch needed to determine what had happened.

“Dravot.” Scorch turned to the cleric “Could you sober this fellow up for me, please, but do not spare him the hangover.”

Dravot reached down and touch the drunken Murgen.  A golden glow briefly outlined his body.

“Hey… what the… OOOOGGHHH!”  Murgen groaned as his eyes focused from sudden sobriety and then unfocused again from the throbbing pain that Scorch knew to be driving its way through his brain.

“Guild member Murgen” said Scorch, in his iciest tone, “You will turn yourself over to the local constabulary for whatever punishment they deem fit.  You will pay for the repair of this door.  Finally, you will report yourself to the dean of your college for behavior unbecoming of a guild member in public.  Do I make myself clear?”

Murgen gave a pathetic squeak on the ground and managed to nod his head.

Scorch noted that the strange fellow who wore the straw hat was making his way over to the scene.  The man’s name escaped Scorch at the moment but he knew that he had taken on the duties of local law enforcement and that things were well in hand at this point.

The druid and the paladin elected to stay behind as Scorch and Dravot went in search of Morris, the current Guild Librarian.

They did not need to look far for they found him and his wife, Maude, relaxing on their porch, enjoying a light meal.

“Guild Minister.” acknowledged Morris Denby.  

Scorch sighed inwardly.  It seemed that all members of the Guild would be addressing him as that.  Scorch was the one who had come up with the new hierarchy and interim constitution of the organization of wizards and sorcerers and had agreed to serve as Guild Minister for a one year period but already he could feel himself drawn into a bureaucratic monstrosity of his own design.  Order needed to be imposed upon the spell casters of the Flaness but it had to be as loose knit as possible.  During his brief membership in the Grey Guild Scorch had learned to abhor how centuries of secret tradition, cronyism, and territorial infighting had wrought.

“Denby, you know Dravot, he has need of use of the Library again.” Scorch stated “This time he needs to access one of the restricted sections.  The necromantic one.”

If he had asked this for any other person Scorch assumed Denby would raise an objection but Dravot was almost as well regarded as Aethramyr in Kobold Country.  

“I’ll get a guest key with the appropriate security for the shield guardians placed on it.” replied the librarian “Have a seat, you two, we got some tea brewing.”

“I have to beg off.  I need to find Dirgah.  Where is he these days?” Scorch asked.

“Oh, I dunno… maybe in that oversized cottage next door.”

Scorch turned his head to where the librarian indicated and indeed saw what might be described as a small, cozy cottage if not for the scale.  It was if someone had increased all dimensions by a factor of two.

“I would be glad to join you.” Dravot said, pulling up a seat.  “Tell me, Mister Denby, what other books of note do you have on the undead in the Library?”

With that, Scorch, left the three of them and walked the short distance over to Dirgah’s front door.  Even though the scale of the door was for a giant, a human sized door with appropriately scaled door-knocker was set into the larger portal.  

Scorch used the knocker and entered after he heard Dirgah’s voice boom “Come!” from within.

The cottage was a simple, one room affair.  Though cozy by giant standards to Scorch it was a large chamber that he had to navigate through piles of clothing and books to reach the desk the giant sorcerer was seated at.  A stack of books formed a staircase which he climbed to get up to eye level with Dirgah.

“I implemented those policies you sent me, Guild Minister.” Dirgah began.  Scorch was glad that he and the giant at least shared the same attitude that opening pleasantries could be dispensed with.  He treated Scorch in the same taciturn manner he treated everyone.  It was this no nonsense attitude that allowed the wizard and the sorcerer to get so much accomplished in such a short period of time.

“Good.  One other change has come to mind.  Make sure that the eight colleges know that they can run their own internal affairs.  Just as long as they follow the overall charter of the Guild.  I want to dispense with all that House nonsense the Grey Guild was using.  It was a good idea two hundred years ago but before the Fall it had degraded into nothing more than secret societies backstabbing one another.”  Scorch spoke this as he paced across Dirgah’s desk.  “Also, members can belong to multiple colleges if they wish.  Or they can belong to none either.  Call this the Universal College I guess…”

“Good riddance to that House nonsense.” Dirgah snarled “I’m also glad that we now recognize equality between sorcerers and wizards.”

“It’s all arcane magic to me.”, the human wizard stated.  “Such quibbling distinctions are nonsense.  Oh, get a message to Profion.  Tell him that I have decided to hear his request to be admitted into the new Guild.  He is to show up here at 11 bells tomorrow.  I shall have Dravot present to verify that he is on the level.”

Scorch did not mention that he would have Valanthe present as well, hidden.  This would be her first official assignment as the leader of the Hand.  Scorch had told his suspicions to Dravot and her that the reason the three demon lords on the prime had not been sniffed out by the Judges yet was because they were hiding themselves in mortal shells.  The news of the Burning Skin being spotted coincided a little too close to Profion’s request to come back into Scorch’s good graces.  He wanted to make sure that Profion was not one of these hidden demon lords or not in the thrall of one of them.  A Zone of Truth and some detection spells would be a good test as such.  Scorch still stung at the memory of what the Shadow Taker did to him and the others in the Guild.

“Do you want me to mention that the cleric will be present?” asked Dirgah.

“Hm.  No.”  the wizard replied “If he turns around the moment he sees him in the room with me then I will have my answers.”

“OK, I’ll get a sending scroll and get that off to him today.  Anything else?” Dirgah shifted in his seat and Scorch knew the questions the giant was itching to ask.

“Yes.  I have news of a binder…” Scorch began.  He quickly related the destruction of the transmutation binder and the freeing of the djinn prince within.  

Dirgah reached under a desk and pulled out a large chart which noted the current dispositions of the nine Binders.  He crossed out transmutation and updated the notes on the location and ownership of the others.  He studied it for a moment and then nodded.

“Good.  I’ll get this to the others.” he said.

“Speaking of which… Any news from the other organization to whom your loyalties also lie?”  Scorch asked.   It was always interesting to hear what went on with the secret war that the Silent Brotherhood was engaged in.

“We are still attacking Black Brotherhood strongholds of power.  We seem to be winning but they are not putting up as much of a fight.  It’s almost too easy.”  Dirgah said.

“Well, subterfuge is one of their more potent weapons.  If you suspect they are up to something then look not at where they are drawing your attention but instead to where they are curiously absent.” Scorch resumed his pacing “That is where their true plans lie.”

“We’ll do that.”  Dirgah rolled the chart back up and stashed back underneath the desk.  “I got contacted the other day by an organization out in Rel Deven that wants our help and possibly join.  I gotta warn you, though, they are bards.”

Scorch winced at that.  It was easy to include equality for both wizards and sorcerers in the new Guild but bards?  That was a distinction he did not want to make at the moment.

“Shelve that for now.  We can discuss it later.  Oh, do you know of any good enchanters?  I have some items that need to be made.” 

“Hmm… a few, I guess.  How about that fellow you said was out at that old newly repopulated dwarven stronghold?”  

“Oh, yes.  I had forgotten about him.  The Concordant out at the Forge of Fury.”  Scorch came to a stop next to an inkwell the size of a bucket.

“Perfect.”  he thought.  Valanthe would probably be making a stop there already for some canoodling with the Hammer.  

“Well, I must be off then.  You’ll let me know when we get enough people together to start leveling that mountain top?  We will probably have to have some sort of ceremony before we start laying the foundation.”  Scorch began descending the book staircase back to the floor.

“Yes.  Yes.  I am compiling a list of those who can cast the appropriate spells.  Fortunately we still have a large pool to draw upon who can do that as well as cast cooperatively.”  Dirgah absently waved at a stack of papers.  His attention already being drawn back to paperwork he was going over before Scorch entered.

The wizard left without further word.

He made his way across the town square towards the old academy building that was the heart of Ru’un Khazai.  Townsfolk avoid getting in his way.  Even though he had given no reason for them to respect his personal space rumors of what he had done and could do in the future lead to a healthy respect for the wizard from the inhabitants of Kobold Country.  Not the fierce “We will follow him to the Nine Hells” loyalty that the paladin commanded or the “We will trust you with our eternal salvation” loyalty that they threw at Dravot.  No, it was more of the “We know what he can do… let’s not get on his bad side” respect that most wizards of any power seemed to gather.  

As he strode through the parting crowd, wheels turned within the wizard’s mind.  “Always something coming up.  Always something that is commanding our attention.” he thought.  Sometimes he felt like one of those performers who spun plates on the end of pointed sticks.  One had to keep running from plate to plate and make sure they were always spinning at the right speed or they would come crashing to the ground.  Then someone would come along and add more plates.

Well, that was the reason he wanted to get the Guild up and running as quickly as possible:  to get other plate spinners into the process.

“Valanthe.” he sent over Gelban’s Scale.  “Are you there?”

“Yup.” was her reply.  “We still on for tomorrow?”

“Yes.  If you are stopping by the Forge could you talk to the Concordant about those medallions we talked about.”

“Sure.  Any other special abilities you want on them other than being able to identify other members of the Hand?  Sendings, detection, super secret code rings…?”

“I leave that to your discretion.  You know better than I what sort of magical resources would be best for the kind of work we want the Hand to do.”

“Okey doke.  Later.”  She broke the connection.

“I should have asked her to inquire with the Concordant about the soul migration mechanisms we had observed back on the Astral.”, thought Scorch.  “Ah well, it can keep for now.”

He thoughts flitted briefly to the issue of the Hand.  When he first thought up of the secret intelligence gathering and enforcement arm of the Guild Scorch had wondered who he could trust with it.   He came to the conclusion that he could only trust an outsider who had no ties with the Guild at all and who had no interest in its internal machinations.  

Valanthe was the obvious choice with her innate abilities that even Scorch feared.  Her total disinterest in the acquisition of power was another plus as well as a problem.  The question was how to get her interested in taking on the burden of running a cell based covert operations organization.  

The answer was simple:  pose it to her as a challenge to her abilities.  Normal thieving no longer held Valanthe’s interest.  She could slip into the most secure location, re-arrange the furniture, pants the guards, and leave with the treasure ten minutes before anyone noticed anything amiss.  

“Ho-hum!” she would say. 

But to sneak into the demiplane of a half-god sorcerer, bypass the most diabolical magical traps ever created, and slip past his demonic servants to steal his most protected spell books.  Now that was fun!  

Most importantly she shared Scorch’s hatred for bureaucratic organization.  The Guild was a necessary evil, one that could grow in a monstrous mess much like its predecessor, ripe for corrupting by yet another one like the Shadow Taker.  

Scorch paused and smiled to himself.  What the new Guild needed was a mechanism the Grey Guild did not have.  It needed a kill switch.  That was probably the most important duty the Hand would have.

The wizard continued his journey to the distant structure.

“It is a mechanism I hope to never see exercised in my lifetime.” he whispered to himself.


----------



## weiknarf

niiiiice

good to hear what Scorch is up to


----------



## Zad

Very nice indeed.

Scorch is right - the choice of writing the story in first person perspective limits my ability to describe happenings that are outside the character's perceptions. I have a number of little tricks I use to deal with this a lot of the time, but with this session, it seemed better to just let it slide. A lot happened of a fairly personal nature and it'd be a stretch to include it. I thought it might be better to let people describe their experiences this time. 

Judging by the quality of the reading posted, I was right.


----------



## dravot

*Journal Entry: Ongoing Research*

I have spent much of the past few days (with the exception of the odd crisis here or there) reading and re-reading through the family library, especially books known to have been collected by my grandfather. I have no idea how I missed the information, but then again, I now benefit from hindsight, though much of the information was with his treatise on reversing his animus process, which I had skipped over with intent to read later.


I’m not sure whether what I’m reading is accurate, or what Chavram wants me to believe, and that is something I continue to think about. According to the texts, Chavram apparently decided that the world was in chaos, as evinced by the rise of Ivid and the return of Iuz. I can hardly fault him for his concerns (if genuine). It would seem that he plans to convince, induce or force me to follow the path of apotheosis and usurp the god Iuz’s power. His hatred of things undead would seem to preclude him from seizing those reins for himself, and so he believes that I should receive this…honor.


The question has transformed itself: if his intent for me is genuine, is there an ulterior motive that I am not aware of? Does he seek to be the power behind the throne? Would he be satisfied and walk willingly into the night and end his existence upon this world? How mad is he, truly? And what do I do about it?


Though I have not decided my ultimate disposition in this matter, I have decided that I need to thoroughly understand the process of Ascension, that I may fully understand Chavram’s moves. Whether I sabotage the process or I willingly succumb, knowing will certainly help me plot what to do, as well as see things more clearly.


I will not state the exact details of my research here or in any other recorded text, but my research into apotheosis (and, by extension, Chavram’s plans) shows roughly the following requirements (organized by aspects of Law, Neutrality and Chaos):

-The first investiture is that of personal power, of a level that few mortals ever achieve. Amongst the undead it is virtually unknown. Such a being must bear one of the Five Marks of Power. I believe this to be the aspect of Neutrality.

-The second investiture is that of the soul. The catalyst to apotheosis requires a large number of souls or soul power. The method in which this power is attained (or, in the case of Zagyg, stolen) only determines the rituals used. I believe that this requires use or knowledge of the spell _Soul Bind_, either in original form or some variant. I am undertaking a further research into the Arcane version of the spell, in an effort to understand it. It is my fervent belief that this is the aspect of Law. I am uncertain whether I would need to cast the spell, or merely have knowledge of it.

-The third investiture is that of mortality, for if one becomes immortal, one must surrender their mortality. Every tome I have consulted is clear on this point, but none of them are salient on what it actually means. I find this to be terribly frustrating. Not surprisingly, this is most likely the aspect of Chaos.

_Update_: I have reviewed everything I can find on the Ascension of Iuz. As I feared, it is mostly the subject of conjecture and the divine equivalent of old wives tales. After his Ascension, Iuz orchestrated a terrible campaign to eradicate knowledge of the details in an effort to prevent others from replicating it. It is obvious that his Rise was based upon that of Vecna, so I will follow up that lead soon.


----------



## Funeris

Dravot, I liked your post.  However, the text was invisible, so you might want to do something to correct it for others.  Thanks.


----------



## dravot

Funeris said:
			
		

> Dravot, I liked your post. However, the text was invisible, so you might want to do something to correct it for others. Thanks.



  But that would ruin the spoilers!  =)

 It looks fine to me in Firefox. What browser are you using? (For some reason, my incarnation of Firefox renders useless he text controls used for posting here, and when I converted the Divine text to gold/bold in M$ Word, the WYSIWYG aspect of ENWorld took the regular text to be black, and put it on the black background. Argh.)

 Fixed it...it was fine in Firefox, and not so fine in Internet Exploder.


----------



## WizarDru

dravot said:
			
		

> But that would ruin the spoilers!  =)
> 
> It looks fine to me in Firefox. What browser are you using? (For some reason, my incarnation of Firefox renders useless he text controls used for posting here, and when I converted the Divine text to gold/bold in M$ Word, the WYSIWYG aspect of ENWorld took the regular text to be black, and put it on the black background. Argh.)
> 
> Fixed it...it was fine in Firefox, and not so fine in Internet Exploder.



 Which version of FF are you using?  Is the final Release Candidate, .093 or the Preview Release?  1.0 RC fixed the Wysiwyg stuff for me, after 1.0 PR broke it.


----------



## Funeris

Sorry if I made you ruin the spoilers.....
I was just using Iexplorer....so...it was black on black.
Don't feel so bad though, I did it to my storyhour once too.


----------



## WizarDru

Funeris said:
			
		

> Sorry if I made you ruin the spoilers.....
> I was just using Iexplorer....so...it was black on black.
> Don't feel so bad though, I did it to my storyhour once too.



 No worries, he's just kidding.  Which isn't to say there aren't potential spoilers coming...for the rest of the party, as well as the readers.  Several characters have been doing investigations of their own, and those don't always make it into the main game OR the story hour, until much later.

 Funny moment a couple of weeks ago:

 dravot and I are coming back from the store with snacks and stuff for the game:

 "_You know, you're not supposed to mess with dravot until the springtime."_

 "_Really?_"

 "_Yeah, you're early._"


----------



## dravot

_Update_: In going through Chavram’s notes, I have stumbled across the name of a wizard of old named Acerak, who resided in the time of the Great Kingdom, and have detoured to conduct research upon him.  He is known for his corruption and necromancy skills, but I cannot find any verifiable details beyond that.  It is said that he was a disciple of Vecna at one point, before betraying The Withering One.  One text refers to Acerak as a highly-placed official in Vecna’s Occluded Empire, but this would put him somewhere in the area of 900 years old when he died.  Certainly, this is possible, especially with the powers of necromancy, so while remarkable, it may be true.


 I believe that the arcane power that he possessed is unique, and aided him in defying Vecna after his betrayal.  There may even be a way to defeat or stymie him.  From this I infer that we may be able to use such power in our confrontation of our enemies, including the Shadow King (as a projection of Therizdun), among others.


 Acerak’s tomb is said to be in the Vast Swamp in the southern part of Sunndi, to the south of my beloved Ahlissa.  I don’t know much about the swamp, but I seem to recall that this is a buffer with Wastri and Hepmonaland, home of the Scarlet Brotherhood.  The only information about the whereabouts of the tomb refer to the Hopping Prophet (referred to as the “Hammer of Demi-Humans”), a demi-god known to roam the area.


 Wastri, the Hopping Prophet, is a demi-god, commonly known as the Hammer of Demihumans.  Research would indicate he is fervently worshipped by the Vast Swamp's most unpleasant denizens, the bullywugs.  He is known to have eaten obnoxious or  presumptious mortals who threaten his domain, and is considered the swamp's master...though it is too vast for him to truly hold such sway.  This will be interesting.

 I must consult with Scorch and see what he knows of this Acerak.


 -----
 WizarDru: I've kept track...like clockwork, the birds return to San Juan Capistrano and Dravot's life goes to hell.  This is no tin-foil-helmet conspiracy here.


----------



## Scorch

Zad said:
			
		

> Very nice indeed.
> 
> Scorch is right - the choice of writing the story in first person perspective limits my ability to describe happenings that are outside the character's perceptions. I have a number of little tricks I use to deal with this a lot of the time, but with this session, it seemed better to just let it slide. A lot happened of a fairly personal nature and it'd be a stretch to include it. I thought it might be better to let people describe their experiences this time.
> 
> Judging by the quality of the reading posted, I was right.




It's not just private side stories or stuff that happens outside of Kayleigh's perspective that need filling in by us other players.  A few of the little things, not important to the overall narrative that have to be left out in order for the story to flow correctly.  Zad does occasionally include little quirks of Scorch such as when I got an epic level spell that reflected projectile weapons.  I strode around Dravot's estate challenging servants to throw things at me just to test it.  They wisely declined.  

There are other things that I am glad do not make it into the story hour such as Scorch's smack talk.  I talk smack to the NPCs and our opponents.  Sometimes the things I say they are a little anachronistic.  When a spellcaster gets a spell off on me and my turn comes around, I snarl at them "Oh, I got something for your punk a$$!" and let loose with particularly nasty meta-magicked combo.  

Then there was the time I called Venn a nasty name not knowing he was possessed by a god at that point.  The look WizarDru gave me that night has both me as a player and a character wishing I had never said that.

Scorch


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*Fyi*

To our loyal fans (and the rest of you ...) Dravot's player was ill Friday so we didn't play. Lets wish Dravot a speedy recovery.


----------



## dravot

I'm feeling better, thanks (was in bed by 9:30 that night).  More importantly, my wife is feeling better, too, but still lags behind in the getting-better process.  When the baby is the only one sick, there's not a lot of fun in the house.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*I did it!*

I just spent a little over 7 hours and re read the entire story hour. Ehlonna my eyes hurt.    

I think I have some ideas of what Bolo needs to do and have already planted a seed. This Druid is about to live up to his potential.

More later.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

We play tonight!


----------



## thatdarncat

Yay! Updates!


----------



## dravot

Whee.  Epic creature attacking us.


----------



## Len

Well, that's only fair.
Who died?


----------



## WizarDru

Poor, poor bastard.  Talk about your tragic deaths.   Oy.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

I have committed the worst kind of blasphemy. I am no longer worthy of walking the path of the Green. Ehlonna forgive me. I had only thought to offer an option.... not a sentence.


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## WizarDru

Odds bodkins, man.  When do you _sleep?_


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## thatdarncat

Dang now I wish Dravot had stuck around the chatroom longer for more updates


----------



## Argent Silvermage

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Odds bodkins, man.  When do you _sleep?_



Sleep? What is this thing you call sleep?
Actually after the accident I was having trouble sleeping and then had to be up at 5:00 to get ready for Santa Saturday. 
I got a grand total of 2 hours sleep. (really just a nap)


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*Dravot and Bolo an aside.*

_[These events take place between the last two game updates.]_

Bolo approached Dravot during one of the few times he is seen outside of the Mage's Library.

"Dravot? Can I have a word with you? I have a few questions that only you can answer." Bolo said hopefully.

"I would be more than glad to assist you in anything, as long as it's right, and just and within my powers.  How can I help you?" said the Living Saint of Pelor

"It's more how I think I can help you. This whole business with your Grandpa and the godhood issue... Did you ever for a moment think he might be on to something?
There seems to be a lack of a Guardian of lost souls. I see Pelor as the light to show them the way but what about spirits like Little Shade and the other Shadows in Valenthe's charge? Spirits of Negative energy yet they still are good people. Or your cleric friend who is dead yet still looks after the church. Bellamy was his name I think. I never had the chance to meet him. I say look into what you can become with Pelor's guidance not just how to stop it from happening.
Your love and caring for all others makes you very qualified for this in my opinion." replied the Druid. Bolo was trying to be cautious about this. He and Dravot are kindred spirits in many ways but he wasn’t sure how to really approach him about this subject yet Bolo knew he needed to bring this up.

The look on Dravot’s face was one of concern and interest. Bolo tended to not speak to Dravot about matters of his faith unless he had concerns. "I will not deny that I have been contemplating apotheosis as an option, for it most certainly has been on my mind of late.  I am currently wrestling with various aspects of such a decision.  Would Pelor approve or disapprove?
I have not asked Him, via spell or prayer, for I do not believe that this is the way to discern such an action; instead, I must read his will through his providence, and I do not believe that I have seen it.  Secondly, I have not yet come to understand what Chavram's motivations are in this.  Perhaps his motives are pure, and he sees my Ascension as something good for the Prime, but perhaps there is a sinister by-product that I have yet to ascertain.
And if there is an ulterior motive, how would that weigh against the greater good should I submit to apotheosis?  These are not easy matters, and they must be decided before I make my decision."

Bolo smiled, "Ah good. So you have given it some thought. As for Pelor, He loves you in a way few other beings have had his love. I personally think he would want you more at his side. Besides if he didn't want it to happen don't you think he would have stopped it by now? It's not as if you are, or ever would be, a threat to his sovereignty.
I wanted to plant this seed in you for two reasons. First is that I feel this is a way for you to do the greatest good for all people. I also think with the souls that Fraz is steeling they will need someone to help 'bring them home' I see you as that person. You see Dravot; faith can be in many forms. I have faith in YOU, and I'm not the only one."

"That is a very different concept, and one I wouldn't have considered on my own.  Unfortunately, it gives me more to think about, but that is a burden I'll bare most gladly." Dravot said with a smile, Bolo wondered if Dravot ever realized how his smile lit up a room. But the Janni was sure Zira had told him at least once.

Bolo’s smile got bigger and he hugged Dravot. "I'm glad I could make your decision more complicated my friend." The druid laughed. "It was my intention to shed some light into your day for a change." With that said and his heart feeling lighter Bolo changed into a griffon and went off to play with his son. Dravot returned to the Library and continued his research.


----------



## Zad

*Fire in the Blood - Chapter 2*

*Fire in the Blood - Chapter 2*

*OOC Notes:*
Exp from last session: 2500 flat for all levels.
Exp from this session: For 22nd: 13,200. For 23rd: 9,200. For 24th: 7,200.

*Loot:*
Cloak of protection +4
Brooch of shielding
Gloves of passwall
Brontal’s ring (protection from blightfire somehow)
Ring of teleport 3x/day, 11th level
Prophyon’s staff (it casts Light. Woo.)
Boots of striding
5000gp

*This Week’s Adventure:*

Rather than stand out in the square, we invited the Thezziz into the Mage Academy, which the sprawl of Kobold Country left relatively untouched. I selected a bottle of wine from the rack and poured several glasses while people settled at a large table. 

With glass firmly in hand, I was ready. “So by way of giving us some context, could you please explain who you are? What is a “Thezziz”? I assume that is a title?”

He sneered at the wine. “I am a member of an elite corps within my society. Or I was. I am lead to believe that you are one of such a corps of your people. I… see things. When I have seen too much, then my Queen would devour my soul, as is my duty. Or at least she _would have_…”

“I see. And at one point you said you ‘saw’ us?”

“I had a premonition of you, yes. Of you destroying everything I hold dear, breaking my race down.”

His self-righteousness was getting a bit wearing. “And why did we do that?”

“I did not question the why-s. I merely saw there was an opportunity to stop you. Twice I tried and twice I failed. The first time was at Ru’un Khazai though I doubt you even noticed I was killed among the invaders. The second time you killed me was on the Prime. This last, the slaadi would not leave me dead and I was unwillingly returned to the land of the living.”

Dravot asked “And why is your skin now red? I think we would have noticed that.”

“The Queen left a parting gift for us in the birthing cells. My race is tainted. All the eggs have been tampered with. There are perhaps only a small faction that remain that will breed true.”

Bolo was interested. “So this is a new body for you?” 

The Thezziz nodded. “Many were not prepared to exist without the Queen. They were unprepared for the burden of freedom and the knowledge that their souls are forever lost. The City of Regret is now a mausoleum. Tu’narath has become a mobile fortress as the General consolidates his firm hold over those that remain. Those that have not fled or committed suicide at least.”

Scorch asked “So they are looking for a god?”

The contempt on the face of the Thezziz grew, defying all odds. “Not a diety, no. But a strong central figure? Yes. Some have found one. The black gith now reside on the prime. They look as I do, but black. They lurk in the underdark serving the Imposer of Wills. The Imposer appears to be a githyanki but I am not convinced he is truly of our race.”

I was fairly sure one of us would try to dissuade the Thezziz from dying at our hands. But to my surprise it was Scorch who made the first attempt. He tried to convince him to make something of his life rather than his death. Aethramyr however was having none of this. He was one of many beings who had declared war on the prime and on elves in particular, and Aethramyr saw no reason to waste time with him and simply left the table. I, for my part, agreed with him. But before Aethramyr left the room, the Thezziz said “I had hoped the paladin would strike me down. If you leave this place, you may not survive to come back. The Queen had agreements with creatures of the lower planes for the trading of souls. One of these creatures has released the Hr’dad – assassins of the lower planes. They hunt you even now. They have not been brought onto the Prime in centuries that I know of. The Queen feared them – this I know. And I had a vision of them – they come for you.”

It was fairly clear that we would not strike the Thezziz down in cold blood. (In truth, some of us might have but as a whole it would be problematic.) So Scorch proposed an alternative. “If they’re coming to kill us, why don’t you guard me and then you can meet your end.”

This idea surely qualified as one of the five most bizarre proposals that we have encountered. But not nearly as strange as when the Thezziz said yes. He was not a happy man at all.

Scorch had a meeting shortly with Prophyon. He was taking several precautions but why Scorch would even want to deal with him at all was a mystery to me. Out of an abundance of caution, I lingered at Ru’un Khazai until the meeting ended. And with good reason it turned out.

Scorch met with Prophyon in one of the guild meeting halls. Dravot was with him for both protection and effect. And of course, Valanthe lurked in the shadows. And Scorch’s new guard, the Thezziz of the Waking Dream. Prophyon swept in sporting a long cape and a staff with a golden lion’s head with a large crystal in the maw. 

Stranger though was his auras. All manner of divinations had been cast on our people, and they revealed some highly unusual necromantic auras, but they defied identification. 

The conversation itself was bland enough. Dravot recalled few of the details – Prophyon was being the sycophant, and Scorch was alternating between enjoying it and debating ways he could make use of him. But the necromantic aura was disturbing. It seemed to be coming from a ring that Prophyon was wearing. So Valanthe slipped carefully behind him and in one swift gesture, removed the ring.

And all hell broke loose. 

Prophyon collapsed to the floor. Standing in his place was a foul creature of black flame. Its only feature was piercing blue eyes, points of light in the black fire. 

Scorch called out over the link “Um… help.”

Aethramyr and I exchanged a look that said “We told him so” and flew off towards the guild hall but it would be some time before we could get there. Dravot erected a prismatic sphere around himself and Scorch. Unfortunately this left the Void Shadow with one thing to consume: The Thezziz. Blightfire tore at the Thezziz’ body and would consume him quickly. If it consumed him, it would turn him into a winter wight, which we did not need. Rather than see that happen, Valanthe brought her blades across the Thezziz and ended his life.

At least he got his wish.

It wasn’t clear if the creature was an infiltrator that was discovered, or an assassin who would have attacked anyway. Dravot dropped the sphere and released a burst of positive energy, and while it did work, it had little overall effect. Valanthe tried to engage but the creature had no physical presence and her weapons passed through with no effect. The Void Shadow however had no such problems with Valanthe and she was quickly beset with blightfire crawling up her arm, freezing her skin.

The creature had a palpable aura of cold about it so Scorch countered with the obvious: fire. The fireball landed with good effect and that gave us a weapon.

Bolo arrived as an air elemental just before Aethramyr and I did and followed Scorch’s example with a fire storm. And I was close enough to release my first volley of arrows. Some time ago I had learned the enchantments that would let my arrows pierce the creature. Secrets I learned just to deal with creatures like this. The arrows hit and stung. I did not know why it was here, but this thing had very little time left with which to figure out how to save its life.

In fact it had none. Bolo unleashed another fire storm, and Scorch another fire ball, and the combined fires overwhelmed the void shadow. It fizzled and faded out, leaving only flickering traces of blightfire on the ground where it stood and the burnt and frozen remains of the Thezziz.

Prophyon suddenly sat up and then started laughing. But the laugh wasn’t Prophyon’s, nor was the voice.

Scorch was unamused. “Who speaks through Prophyon?”

_“My name is unimportant. I am unknown to you, though you are well known to us. You have overstepped your bounds, Guild Minister.”_ He used the title as mockery. _“You had the opportunity to take up the ShadowTaker’s mantle, but you sided with_ them_. Your pain will never end.”_

Scorch shrugged. “Yeah well. Get in line with the rest of them.”

The possessor seemed slightly surprised by the lack of fear generated. _“My master will take a special interest in you. You will see things the way Venn was made to. You will see…”_

_“There is a gate in the library if you search for it. The old man didn’t tell you about that. It will show you the way if you have the courage.”_

The voice laughed some more and faded out. And Prophyon collapsed again. It occurred to me at that moment that he didn’t hit his head on the floor nearly hard enough.

Someone asked “So someone remind me again: why aren’t we killing him?”

A fine question.

Scorch was determined to turn him over to the guild for punishment. I wasn’t thrilled with that idea but eventually let it go. Even the notion of “punishment” was difficult – Prophyon’s mind was empty now. He was much like Venn was when we found him. What had he seen? Was it the same light?

[Note for the readers: You will recall that the Shadow King is in fact the shadow of Therizdun who remains imprisoned by the gods. But the shadow acts on its own. But if that is a shadow, what is casting the light that creates it? The usual answer to this question is “Do you have any levels of Alienist? Because asking questions like that is how you get them.” But in this case, Venn and likely Prophyon have seen that light, and it made them mad.]

Valanthe had stopped to examine the ring she removed from Prophyon that started all this. Inside the band was the maker’s mark. It was the mark of Brontal.

To add to the confusion, a whirlwind suddenly kicked up. It quickly solidified and took the shape of a man. We did not recognize him, but he had the Mark of Air on his brow.

“I am the East Wind. I am not here to harm you.”

Scorch, reaching the end of his patience, said “Then what do you want?”

“I do not ‘want’ anything.” He smiled. “We never did actually get the chance to meet, Scorch. I was one of the true leaders of the Grey Guild. In time we would have met had unfortunate events not occurred.”

“As for what I want, I want to give you some information. The man you call Brontal has been dead for some time, and his soul captured. The one you truly seek is one of the ShadowTaker’s minions. We have no name for him – we just call him The Jumper. He can possess different bodies and he is the one who has been pretending to be Brontal.”

“If he used to be a minion of the ShadowTaker, who is he working for now?” asked Valanthe.

“He now serves the King. I should also tell you that we are trying to find the three hunters before they find you. They have been retained by Fraz. His rage at the foiling of his plans has reached new heights and he seeks to unleash his ire on you. The Prince of Deception is not one you wish to have as an enemy.”

As if we were given a choice or could change it. I doubt he’d accept a simple “I’m sorry.”

The East Wind took Scorch aside. “In case you cared, we approve of what you have done here with the new guild.”

Scorch made no answer. If the approval meant something, he could not show it, and I’m sure there was some mix of contempt for the old guard in him regardless.

“I shall return when I know more.” And with that he dissolved back into wind and dispersed.

It was about this time that I noticed something was missing. “Where’s the Thezziz’ body?”

Dravot looked around too. “And where’s Bolo?”

Oh no…



He wasn’t far. But by the time we got there, he had already reincarnated the Thezziz. He now appeared as a black humanoid – there was a trace of his githyanki features but only barely. Now he was a shadowswyft – a native of the plane of shadow. 

The man wanted to die and be left alone but apparently that wasn’t good enough for Bolo.

The Thezziz was screaming. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!??!?”

I was thinking the same thing.

Bolo was smug. “I gave you a choice to come back if you wanted to.”

“YOU IDIOT. I HAVE NO CHOICE! YOU COMPELLED MY RETURN. Do you think I would have come back the last time if I had a CHOICE?!? You so-called heroes did not destroy the soul receptacles so my soul sat there until YOU ripped it out and brought me here.”

Bolo went from smug to horrified. As well he should. “You couldn’t leave well enough alone could you,” I said. “He had already made his choice – he wanted to die. Why did you have to ignore his wishes?”

Bolo searched for an answer, aghast at what he had done. “But… but… I just wanted to give him a choice. The spell gives him a choice. I chose... life.”

I looked at him in disbelief. “That wasn’t your choice to make. It was his.”

I just stood there, dumbfounded. I was completely overwhelmed at this and didn’t know what else to say. And I wasn’t alone. Dravot, Aethramyr, everyone really was struck speechless at what Bolo had done.

And then it got worse. He is now a native to the plane of shadow. So of course, right on time, the Judges arrived. I take it as some small token of respect that the first two simply waited and watched until Meltorrannan arrived.

Upon taking in the scene Meltorrannan said with a sigh “He cannot stay.”

I have no love of the Thezziz. He made his choices and his people pay the price for attacking the elves. I have no sympathy for that. But the indignities he is now forced to endure are becoming a bit much even for me.

Valanthe stepped in. “I will take him to the plane of Shadow for now.”

Meltorrannan nodded, that solution acceptable.

Valanthe faded away with the Thezziz. And the rest of us just turned and walked away, leaving Bolo standing alone. His mouth hung open, grasping for words.

“… no choice…”


----------



## WizarDru

Some metagame notes for the reader:



When Scorch first joined the Guild, he wondered at it's structure.    There were four (but really five) colleges within the guild.  Each was represented by a gemstone (diamond, onyx, bloodstone and jade, iirc) and a concept that drove them (experimenters, planar travelers, inventers and enchanters, roughly).  Scorch, through the Shadowtaker's manipulations, found himself as guild representative for the onyx college.  At that time, he saw that the other guildmasters were insane, impolitic or ineffectual, essentially [_Scorch included_] and concluded that someone else was really runnning the guild.  He was right, and his search determined that the true guildmasters never revealed themselves, but that they bore the mark of Air.  The East Wind is the first of them to actually make themselves known.  Whether they can be trusted or not is another story.   
The Githyanki 'soul cells' are something that the players thought they'd destroyed, when the Gith Queen fell.  In point of fact, what they actually destroyed was the transit device the queen had been given, that was funnelling souls into the Far Realms.  They've now discovered that they aren't the same.   
Longtime readers may recall the Thezziz of the Waking Dream appeared a long time ago, in the prelude before the original assualt on Rhuun Kazaai.  He is a bitter fellow on a good day.  It's somewhat ironic that the character with the most restrictive personal code, Aethramyr, was the first to (without words) tell the Thezziz to take his personal honor and go to hell.  Completely appropriate, but amusing.   
Fraz has, supposedly, appeared to Aethramyr in the dreaming.  In a previous session, the paragon traced the Silvering in the dreaming, to find him trapped in the Far Realms.  While the paragon decided how to handle the problem, a bemused Fraz appeared and engaged in pointless conversation which Aethramyr pointededly ignored.   
Valanthe is known to the natives of Sceadutine as the "Shadow Princess" (or sometimes "Shadow Queen") and it Drives. Her. Nuts.   
The Void Shadow was an epic monster, the Shadow of the Void, from the ELH...advanced to an EL29 creature.   
The big rules question of the night was the Prismatic Sphere, teleportation in and out of same, and how it would affect different powers/creatures/stuff.  The five minute rule was invoked, as normally happens when this stuff comes up.  
The Apotheosis Question has led down many interesting paths of internal conflict.  Believe it or not, we've been building up to it for over three years now.  Man, was that a hard one to keep a secret.  
Profion is...well, Jeremy Irons overacting, really.  I've only seen the first four minutes of the movie, but that was enough to create this parody character.  His grand entrance was amusing, with the door sweeping wide.  Scorch's first reaction to me: "_He's got a *CAPE?!?*_"   
The Void Shadow had a spot of 72.  _*72*_.  Yes, he could spot Valanthe, and he told her so.  Val, for her part, unleashed Shadowcut on the creature, hitting with a nasty boom on top of the damage.  Sooner or later, our rogue-who-wasn't-there will be taking the 'does crits to undead' feat, and then it's on.   
Val's second weapon is a ghost-touch, undead-bane dagger.  Girl got tired of fighting spooks with nuthin'.   
Bolo arrived in Round 4 or so, with Kayleigh and Aethramyr floating on in a round later.


----------



## LordVyreth

Out of curiosity, did your group ever run into the fire side of the whole Winter Wight/Void Shadow family?  If so, what was the ruling on how that permanent hit point loss worked?  Do you run it as is, or do you give the party some way out of it, like a heal spell or treating it like vile damage?

Oh, and not sure if you noticed, but I offered my services as a monster provider to you again in your Rogue's Gallery forum.


----------



## dravot

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Out of curiosity, did your group ever run into the fire side of the whole Winter Wight/Void Shadow family? If so, what was the ruling on how that permanent hit point loss worked? Do you run it as is, or do you give the party some way out of it, like a heal spell or treating it like vile damage?
> 
> Oh, and not sure if you noticed, but I offered my services as a monster provider to you again in your Rogue's Gallery forum.



 We didn't get into that in this last game session, and I don't remember how we dealt with it after the Winter Wight.

 I'd just like to say that I'm glad that I had no clue what we were facing, and what the consequences were.  Ignorance is truly bliss.  

 The problem that we had with _prismatic sphere_ was whether or not Scorch could step outside of the sphere as well as Dravot, or whether he was essentially stuck there.  My reading of the spell allowed him to leave whenever.  Ultimately it didn't really matter, and I dismissed the spell when we were both ready.

 In retrospect, I may have been able to squeeze the Thezziz into the sphere with us, but he was on the border of the effect, so I'm not sure.  Dravot is going to have to apologize for blinding the poor guy with the spell effect.  Oh well.  I'm glad I cast it though, Wizardru says that in his estimation one of us would have died otherwise.


----------



## LordVyreth

Actually, only the lavawight variants have the permanent problem that I mentioned.  The winterwight types and their big brothers (like the one you just fought,) are pretty standard ability drainers.

Prismatic Sphere is indeed a potent spell.  I always ruled it that only the caster can cross it without provoking the effects, which has had at least two humorous effects in my campaign.  In one example, one of the PCs got swallowed by a big, stupid, homebrewed Tarrasque-esque monster, and then the monster tried to trample the party, including the PS-protected mage.  The monster missed its save for the indigo sphere and hopped off to a different plane, but the PC was still there, floating in mid-air where the creature's stomach used to be.  Or at least he was floating for a few milliseconds, before plummeting through the sphere himself!  Fortunately he was a monk and made almost all of the saves.

The other time came when the players went up against a psychic warrior BBEG who had the abilty to teleport at will.  The same wizard as the last example used the Sphere tactic again, so thinking I was being clever, I had the BBEG teleport in with her.  What I didn't plan on was the fact she was still using a Shapeshift spell, which she used to turn herself into something big and bull-rushed the BBEG back out of the Sphere again!  One boned saving throw on the poison color later, I had a dead BBEG and a much easier final battle.  Of course, I had the last laugh.  Yeah, I had hoped the BBEG would be more of a challenge, but the party was supposed to capture her alive, a mistake they're still trying to fix!


----------



## Zad

*Interlude*

The following is offered as an interlude - a distraction with no real point or purpose. It is, for all intents and purposes, an author's doodle with no real meaning.

*Interlude*

Loren leapt into the trees with the ease of someone who had been doing it for scores of years. Which of course he had. “I may be new to the scouts” he thought “but nobody has to teach me how to climb a tree.” In the trees around him, the rest of his patrol settled in. In a few moments, they would be all but invisible in the trees, the eyes and ears of Celene. Loren was more in the mood for “unconscious” than “invisible” however. They had been moving swiftly these past weeks through the forests along the Ulek border and even the veterans were looking tired. To a newcomer like Loren, the touch of sleep was becoming better than the touch of a lover.

“Not that a lover’s touch would be unwelcome either,” he mused.

The patrol settled in quickly and took some dinner while getting acquainted with the area. “Half of scouting is knowing when something isn’t there” Loren droned under his breath, mimicking his instructor. “Otherwise how will you know when something is?”

So as he ate, he watched. He took in every hill, every tree, every bush. Tired or not, they had to be on guard. The patrols were stretched thin, so every set of eyes counted. He watched for an hour or two, as the sun slowly crept to the horizon, safe and hidden within the trees with the rest of his patrol. Danar was to his left, overlapping his field of view, and Sarina to his right. The others were arrayed in a loose circle. If something moved in these woods tonight, it would not escape their notice.

This thought was uppermost in Loren’s mind when he received a sudden start. The long shadows of dusk could fool the eye, but Loren was sure he had studied the land before him and would know if a creature moved. So sure was he, that when he suddenly saw a figure standing on the ground nearby, he just blinked in disbelief. He hadn’t seen it approach, nor had he seen it move. But suddenly it was there all the same. And it felt like it was looking straight at him.

Loren put this thought out of his head. It may know some secrets of moving unseen, but he had seen it. And whatever it was, it wasn’t likely to notice the well-hidden patrol. Instead he focused, trying to see more.

The figure looked about slowly. It was humanoid… no an elf. The flow of the hair made Loren sure it was a woman. As he stared closer, he could see that she carried no sword but did hold a fairly ordinary bow to match her ordinary clothes. Still there was something more about here on the edge of Loren’s perception. A presence he could not fathom. 

The sharp chirp of a forest bird to his left told him that Danar now saw her too. And suddenly Loren felt the fool for not having raised the alert earlier. But before he answered, the woman looked straight at him. He was sure of it this time! And with a small smile, walked towards his tree.

She walked past the trunk of the large tree, slightly cocking her head to the side only once to look again towards him. Was this truly an elf? Was she a Swiftrunner? He had never seen them so armed and their power was their speed, not their stealth. But when this woman moved, she made not a sound, and even the wind seemed to be silent as it passed around her. She walked slowly but unthreateningly into the interior of the group of scouts, seemingly with no purpose.

Then it hit Loren – she was heading for straight for the tree that hid Shala, who lead this patrol. Could it be she not only saw him but all of them? Enough to know who was in charge? Impossible. No eyes could see that so readily.

The woman stopped at the base of the large oak. She looked up, and most likely said something, but the words were too quiet for Loren to make out. There was some kind of response from Shala, and then the woman climbed into the tree. Loren had watched elves in trees all his life – the natural product of being an elf who was often in a tree himself. But this woman did not climb as much as she flowed into the tree. She moved in slow graceful movements but never seemed to strain and in moments she was hidden in the canopy with Shala.

After a tense few seconds, an owl called out – whoever she was, Shala thought she was safe and signaled it was clear. Loren tried to resume his watch, but was haunted by the woman. Where had she come from? How did he miss her? And why did he not signal when he did see her? He was a foolish recruit and it was gnawing at him.

Even Loren had to admit this was not the only reason he finally left his post. Curiosity too was to blame. But Loren was determined to know the reason this woman fooled him and so he slipped down from his tree and went towards Shala’s.

The two women were sitting close and both looked down in unison as he came to the trunk of the tree. Shala clearly was not pleased to see him away from his post, but called him up all the same. “What was so important that you felt it wise to leave your post?” Shala asked when he was up.

Loren started to answer, but his curiosity caused him to stop and stare again at the stranger. She was perfectly… ordinary. Her weapons, her clothes, her quiver, all ordinary. Everything except her hair and her eyes. They told a different story, but Loren could not grasp it.

After a moment he stammered “My apologies Shala. I have failed. This woman” he said with no malice “approached us and yet I did not see her until she was nearly on us. And then I was so intent on studying her I did not raise the cry.”

“This,” Shala said “could have waited.” The stranger hid a small smile. Shala held the tone of inevitability as all instructors do. “Unless this so consumed you that you could not focus on not failing again?”

Loren looked down, ashamed at the truth of it.

“For what it’s worth,” the stranger said quietly “you only failed once, in not raising the cry when I revealed myself. Had you seen my approach, then your significant talents would be sorely wasted on patrol.” 

Loren looked at the stranger and then at Shala. An older elf would have seen the humor pass between those two, and would have seen each playing her part for the sake of training the young recruit. But these things were lost on Loren. 

“So you came by spellcraft then?”

“No,” said the stranger. “But I have walked many paths, and know the ways of the shadows of the forest. There is no blame to be given for not seeing my approach. Without pride I tell you that such a thing is beyond your skills. If a mouse tries to fly and falls, has it truly failed? And foolish is the man who is disappointed in the mouse.”

Loren nodded, seeing the point, if not liking being the mouse in this game. He was feeling somewhat better until she said “But you should have stayed at your post rather than letting your vanity and curiosity get the better of you.”

Shala sighed towards the stranger. “I hope you will forgive me but he’ll be hopelessly distracted if I dismiss him without more.” She then turned to Loren. “This woman is a Champion. She scouts the borders for purposes of her own. That is all she has chosen to tell me, and it is enough for me. It will be enough for you as well.”

Loren was young but he was not completely without wits. He nodded, and returned to his post, leaving the scout and the Champion to discuss what they had encountered on patrol. “Shouldn’t take long,” he thought “seeing as how we haven’t really seen anything.” 

Ultimately Loren wasn’t sure how long it took. He never saw her leave, despite trying as hard as he could. 

----------------------------------------



That was the fourth patrol Kayleigh had run into. The story was the same with each – they’d seen nothing of interest. She’d covered a great deal of ground, but still wasn’t satisfied. Time surely flowed differently in the Far Realms, and with half the army off in the Pomarj, she wanted to be sure things were well before she risked an extended absence.

“There are no reports of any threats to Celene,” Onselven told her a week before. “While we cherish all our Champions and you among them, we cannot be dependent on you. We look to our defense.”

“And that aside,” the Queen said “I am sure that Corellion guides your path now. If it would be ill for the elves, he would turn you from a path that would lead you away.”

Kayleigh was sure the Queen was right. But she also was slowly learning Corellion’s ways. (Would that be called faith?) The Elven Lord was subtle indeed, and guided those who kept a sharp eye and a sharp wit. It would not do for her to run off without at least attempting to verify that all was well on the borders.

And so she looked for herself.



--------------------------------------



Hannah checked the birds. They were roasting away nicely and would be ready in time for the evening rush, but that didn’t stop her from fidgeting with the spit anyway. The inn she and her husband owned was nothing noteworthy but she took pride in it all the same. It was mostly the local farmers and occasional traveler who came, but she still liked to think it was fine enough for any man, common or noble.

A few of the locals had started rolling in, dirty and thirsty. Besides them, there was a small group of merchants on the road to Gradsul. It wouldn’t be a rich night, but it would be enough. Then the door opened again, but instead of a thick-necked local in search of cheap beer, a small woman entered. Elves were not exactly the bulk of her customers, but there were enough traveling that it wasn’t very unusual. This one however was odd. For starters, she had no sword. Oh sure, the countryside around these parts was safe enough, but Hannah had scarcely ever seen an elf without a sword. Old Toby said they were buckled on when they were born and never left their side, but then again Old Toby said a lot of things. She just walked in wearing clothes just on the nice side of ordinary, and carrying a bow. (If she hadn’t had any weapon, then Hannah would have been worried.) She looked like a merchant but had no goods.

Hannah smiled. “Welcome, dear, welcome. Would you be wanting a meal or a room or both?”

“Both I think. I’ve been traveling too much to decline either,” she smiled. Her voice was soft and polite, and she seemed a little less aloof than most of the elves. Some of them couldn’t suppress a sneer when they walked through the door. Of course maybe that was because they smelled Old Toby.

“Were you wanting the common room or a private one? As for eatin, I have some nice chickens that are just about ready. And for drinking? “

“Private please, and wine.”

Hannah named her price and the elf girl didn’t haggle, just nodded and paid as if she hadn’t really heard it. Hannah wondered if she had said twice as much if she’d have gotten the same thing. Better not tell her husband that.

The elf took a seat at the corner table, near the hearth and away from the door. She leaned her bow against the wall, and leaned her chair back and just smiled at the scene. Hannah didn’t know what she was smiling at. All there was here was boys at the bar, folks eatin’ and drinkin’, and a warm fire. Nope, no reason to smile like that. But then again, from there, she probably couldn’t smell Old Toby.

And so another evening at the inn goes. The local boys got louder and drunker, but not too bad all things considered. The merchants drank enough to make Hannah’s husband slightly less surly, and the elf girl in the corner just sat doing nothing all night except drinking wine. She wasn’t drinking fast but over the hours she went through two bottles, so that was another nice bit of coin in the till.

At one point Hannah just watched her from the back room. She wasn’t worried, just curious. The girl didn’t seem to be waiting for anyone. She didn’t seem to be watching much of anything. And she surely wasn’t talking to anyone or listening to anything. 

At least that’s what Hannah thought. The truth was the woman heard everything that was said in the bar that night. With her feet up and her glass in hand, she heard about the good crops and the sick cows. She heard about the merchant wagon that was stuck in the mud a fortnight ago. She heard quite a lot more than she cared to about the origins of Old Toby’s aroma. She heard it all.

And it pleased her, every word it. Not for what she heard, but for what she didn’t. If there were armies on the move or unusual strangers or scouts, these folk would know of it. They would be telling tales, even if they didn’t understand what they saw. And by sitting and listening, it was as if she had been watching this area for miles around for the past several weeks. Too bad it wasn’t always this easy.

As the night got later, the farm boys got drunker. While this was hardly different from any other time, it never bothered Hannah or her husband, provided they didn’t make themselves a nuisance to the traveling customers. It didn’t make sense for them really – they might be the regulars, but the tavern needed the merchant travelers to survive. 

But then again, Corwin never had much sense. He was one of the farm boys and not much older than twenty and needed a bit more sense knocked into him. Corwin, Dyvan, Fergus and Ivan were always thick as thieves and Corwin had a way of bringing out the worst in the others. They’d been playing a drunken game of darts and having a good old time. Corwin was a fine shot when sober but even better drunk, so he was feeling good about himself. The elf girl just watched from her table behind them vaguely amused with it all. Too bad Corwin didn’t have the sense to leave her alone. 

Corwin had wheeled around and seemed like he saw her for the first time, though he’d have to have been blind to miss her earlier. He tried to be smooth in his approach, but it ended up more of a stagger than a swagger. 

“And what about you lovely lass? Surely you must be beside yourself seeing my skill and good looks?”

She arched an eyebrow slightly. “So far,” she said “I haven’t seen much of either.” And she smiled slightly and sipped her wine.

A great deal of “Oooooh”s came up from the boys. Hannah wasn’t waiting any longer. At best, they would chase off a customer, and at worst there could be bloodshed. The girl didn’t look the type to draw a blade (even if she didn’t have one) but Hannah didn’t like the idea all the same. 

“That’s enough of that Corwin. You know full well we don’t take kindly to you harassing the travelers,” she said as she tried to push him off.

The elf girl just held up a hand. “It’s not a problem.” At first Hannah thought she was just being polite, but when she turned and looked, the girl was just smiling slightly over her glass. The boys amused her for some reason, though Hannah couldn’t imagine them being amusing enough for this girl to entertain.

But Hannah stopped and shrugged. Corwin puffed himself up. “See there woman? This woman wants to shee more of the handsomest, bravest, and most skillfulest man in these here parts!”

The elf laughed. “Oh I do. Can you tell me when he might be arriving?”

Again with the “Oooooohhh”s. Hannah laughed hard. This might be good to see after all.

But Corwin was in it to the end. “You have quite a sassy mouth pretty elf. But I think it’s just because you want to see what a real man can offer you.”

The boys nodded and grunted at that. But the girl wasn’t done by a long shot. “From what I can see, I’ll wager the offerings are fairly… small,” she said, glancing below his beltline as she said it.

The boys were now laughing at Corwin along with Hannah. He was losing ground fast. “A wager it is then! A game of darts, and if I win, then you come upstairs with me and I show you things you ain’t never seen.”

The girl laughed a sweet, patronizing laugh. “And if I win?”

Corwin was stumped. His addled mind hadn’t expected that kind of answer, and he hadn’t thought it through that far. 

Fergus shouted “If she wins, she gets to have me!” A lot more drunken laughing ensued. Most of the folks in the room were now watching the exchange as if it were a show.

“Oh I don’t think so,” she said patronizingly. “It’d have to be something I’d actually _want_.”

“Hey!” protested Fergus. “All my girlfriends have wanted more of me!” 

“Yes well they couldn’t really want less now could they?” came her reply, again glancing below the waist. The chorus of laughter told Fergus he’d been beaten, and unlike Corwin he knew when to give up.

“The women all want Corwin!” he said and thumped his chest.

“And they tell you this before or after you shear them each season?” she asked. Corwin flushed and was starting to get angry. But rather than irritate him further, the girl said something that made Hannah’s mouth hang wide open. “I’ll tell you what – if I win, you buy my drinks the rest of the night.”

Corwin was stunned. It took him a minute to realize she was taking his bet. It never occurred to him that he could lose to a woman. “Done!” He grabbed the darts and moved past the line towards the girl but she waved him back, saying “Oh no please, you first. Perhaps I can learn something from your skill.”

Corwin blushed for a second, then stepped to the line. He threw a good round despite the distractions and catcalls of the crowd. Corwin called out his score with pride. The boys cheered, and Corwin leered at the girl. He took the darts and walked to the table and put them down for her, then strutted back to the line to wait for her to come and throw.

But before he got there, a dart whipped by his head, followed by a THUNK. 

Hannah looked. The girl hadn’t moved, hadn’t gotten up from her chair, hadn’t taken her feet off the table, hadn’t even put her glass down. But from twice the distance as the line, she’d buried a dart in the board. Everyone watched in silence as she picked up another dart, and with a flick of her wrist, sent it towards the board. 

Another THUNK.

Another flick. Another THUNK.

All eyes went to the board. The boys saw it right away, but it took Hannah longer to add. Not only had she beaten him, she threw exactly double Corwin’s score.

Corwin looked back at her, not knowing what to say. She just smiled, and raised up her empty glass and rocked it. 

Laughter and guffaws erupted across the room all at once. A series of back-slaps and fists to the shoulder landed on Corwin, and he just hung his head and went back to his table to sulk.

Hannah brought a full glass of wine to the elf. “I’ve never seen the like of throwing like that Miss.”

“I can’t say that I have either – it’s been years since I’ve even thrown a dart.” Hannah just looked at her for a moment, not sure what to say. Ultimately she decided not to say anything and went back to the bar.

The girl was a gracious winner and didn’t put too many drinks on poor Corwin’s tab, but enough to make him regret it for a few weeks at least.


----------



## Funeris

That was a great writer's doodle.  Loved it.  Was any of that actually role-played...or in game did you say, "I'm going to check up with the patrols"  and then just write it up.  It was an excellent post.  Thanks.


----------



## WizarDru

Funeris said:
			
		

> That was a great writer's doodle. Loved it. Was any of that actually role-played...or in game did you say, "I'm going to check up with the patrols" and then just write it up. It was an excellent post. Thanks.



 Most of that is Zad's invention, but it is based on actual game events, and the information there is all in-game information.  Kayleigh has, of late, come to realize that the problem is no longer dealing with a target that the Meepites can be pointed at....it's turning your head away when they strike.  To this end, she is being very meticulous in making sure that no trouble is brewing in their wake.

 This is the natural evolution of players into high-levels, really.  They are now powerful enough to intimidate small countries...but being more powerful doesn't mean less vulnerable, per se.  Teleport, Plane Shift and Gate or no, the Meepites _can't_ be everywhere at once.  The world is simply too big.  In fact, chasing down one enemy essentially means leaving another unmolested.  It's a comment lament that some villians, such as Chavram, always manage to stay at the number 2 position on the 'To Do' list: always a concern, but never the most pressing.  

 In short, one of the big differences about high-level from low-level is that your choices have far more consequences, and you have many more choices to make.  You're no longer stopping Orcus...you're NOT stopping Grazzt.


----------



## Zad

> That was a great writer's doodle. Loved it. Was any of that actually role-played...or in game did you say, "I'm going to check up with the patrols" and then just write it up. It was an excellent post. Thanks.



Thanks! The answer to your question is "sorta". I did pop a quick email off wherein I went to the palace and asked if there were any reports of trouble because I might have to go off plane. And I was told "no it's quiet right now" and some of the things in the middle section. The rest was all just me making stuff up. I didn't mention the idea of doing a personal patrol to Wizardru (until he read it here  )

In some ways it's quite liberating this way since I can write whatever I want without being bound by the truth of what actually happened.


----------



## Funeris

> In some ways it's quite liberating this way since I can write whatever I want without being bound by the truth of what actually happened.




-I loooooooong for that moment in my story hour.


----------



## Dakkareth

Sweet, sweet updates ...


----------



## Zad

I just noticed Nem's post about putting up favorite excerpts from your story hour. I kind of like the idea, even if it is tricky.

I'd love some suggestions from the readers on what chapter they think would be a good choice for this. Which post did you like?


----------



## LordVyreth

Here's a random question.  Didn't Kayleigh get a cat familiar at some point?  I remember you writing about it, but it's been so long since it was mentioned that I can't be positive.


----------



## WizarDru

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Here's a random question. Didn't Kayleigh get a cat familiar at some point? I remember you writing about it, but it's been so long since it was mentioned that I can't be positive.



 Heh.  Can anyone name Scorch's Familiar?  He's been around for a long time, but never (and I mean NEVER) is seen doing much ingame...excepts for making frightened noises when unholy horrors cross the group's path.

 If you look closely, you can see the occasional mention of Kayleighs familar in earlier entries.  But when you're operating at levels where a 17th level character is considered a liability, well....an Epic level familiar is still just a familiar.


----------



## LordVyreth

Sure, I understad the problem of familiars being ineffective at high level.  Hell, my party's wizard doesn't take her familiar out of its familiar "pouch" (You know, the one Tome and Blood has,) since it got maimed by a swarm of robotic insects back around 13th level.  But your adventure also appears to have a lot of more traditional "role" playing involved, including sessions with minimal or no combat.  Thus, you've acquired a massive number of lower-powered NPCs that still show up from time to time despite not being remotely helpful in combat.  Take Meepo for the most obvious example.  Despite starting out as a useful henchment, he kind of got left behind along the way when his level gap increased, but he has an obvious place in the party still.  He runs the party's stronghold/small nation  .  I guess I was curious about the cat since there was no mention of it in the recent Kayleigh stories, and then Zad's  post about old SH excerpts remined me of the elaborate summoning ritual used to frind him.


----------



## dravot

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Take Meepo for the most obvious example.



 Yes, take him.  Please.

 Meepo doesn't travel with us anymore, instead he looks after Ruun Khazaai and Kobold Country.  I only bring along Thorkeld and Zira in situations where I'm sure that they'll survive.  Life is lonely at the top.


----------



## WizarDru

dravot said:
			
		

> Yes, take him.  Please.
> 
> Meepo doesn't travel with us anymore, instead he looks after Ruun Khazaai and Kobold Country. I only bring along Thorkeld and Zira in situations where I'm sure that they'll survive. Life is lonely at the top.



 Yeah, we need to talk about that, actually.


----------



## Zad

Yes, Kayleigh still has Rasha. I was going to mention him in this last but it just didn't quite make it in. He's generally with her but our convention in the game is that we don't focus over-much on them and they are at virtually no risk and provide almost no benefit.


----------



## thatdarncat

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Yeah, we need to talk about that, actually.



 uh oh


----------



## Scorch

Zad said:
			
		

> Yes, Kayleigh still has Rasha. I was going to mention him in this last but it just didn't quite make it in. He's generally with her but our convention in the game is that we don't focus over-much on them and they are at virtually no risk and provide almost no benefit.




Speak for yourself.  Scorch desperately needs any boost to his saving throws that he can get and Flinch provides a +2 in that which I need most:  Reflex.

Scorch


----------



## dravot

thatdarncat said:
			
		

> uh oh



 Heh.  No big deal...this time.


----------



## Blacklamb

Heya all i have a question for the Mighty Scorch!

Durring some of the battle scenes it has been mentioned that you fight in an alternate form(i belive it was that of a Grick).

I was just wondering if you use standard Polymorph, or if there is a house rule or alternate spell that you use since, it at times seems that you are in the altered form longer than the 1/round a lvl durration.

Also i was wondering if the rogue gallery is Current for this SH.

A humble fan, 

Blacklamb


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Blacklamb said:
			
		

> Also i was wondering if the rogue gallery is Current for this SH.
> 
> A humble fan,
> 
> Blacklamb



I had just uploaded the Newest Body of Bolo to the rogues gallery and then saw your request. 
Glad you like the story hour.


----------



## Zad

I just did a a quick scan of the Rogue's Gallery thread. The answer is "No not really." Except for Bolo, most of the stat blocks listed are about two levels behind.

 We'll see what we can do about that.


----------



## Blacklamb

Thanks Zad, Argent.
You guys are the best!


Blacklamb


----------



## Zad

I just posted Kayleigh's current stat block and encouranged the others to follow suit.


----------



## Scorch

Blacklamb said:
			
		

> Heya all i have a question for the Mighty Scorch!
> 
> Durring some of the battle scenes it has been mentioned that you fight in an alternate form(i belive it was that of a Grick).
> 
> I was just wondering if you use standard Polymorph, or if there is a house rule or alternate spell that you use since, it at times seems that you are in the altered form longer than the 1/round a lvl durration.




Back in the day of 3.0 I used Polymorph Self to turn into a Grick mostly because it gave me flight and a good AC at the time.  I sometimes extended it using the feat I stayed in that form for hours at a time.  Remember:  this was under 3.0.

These days I run an extended shapechange from a 10th level spell slot.  I now turn into a Solar during combat as a free action.  Albeit I check around to make sure no Judges are looking.  WizarDru houseruled that shapechange to be limited to only creatures equaling your hitdice rather than twice that.

Scorch


----------



## WizarDru

Scorch said:
			
		

> Back in the day of 3.0 I used Polymorph Self to turn into a Grick mostly because it gave me flight and a good AC at the time. I sometimes extended it using the feat I stayed in that form for hours at a time. Remember: this was under 3.0.



 No, you didn't.  You turned into a *GRIG*.  That's a small cricket-like Fey creature...like Jiminy Cricket, in fact.

*THIS* is a Grick:









			
				Scorch said:
			
		

> These days I run an extended shapechange from a 10th level spell slot. I now turn into a Solar during combat as a free action. Albeit I check around to make sure no Judges are looking. WizarDru houseruled that shapechange to be limited to only creatures equaling your hitdice rather than twice that.



I most certainly did NOT.  That's not a houserule, it's the corrected rule.  Check the SRD for the errata version and you'll find that it's listed as _"This spell functions like polymorph, except that it enables you to assume the form of any single nonunique creature (of any type) from Fine to Colossal size. The assumed form cannot have more than your caster level in Hit Dice (to a maximum of 25 HD). Unlike polymorph, this spell allows incoporeal  or gaseous forms to be assumed._"

 We have precious few houserules, and that ain't one of 'em.  But while we're on the subject, shapechange requires a focus...one I haven't been enforcing.


----------



## Scorch

WizarDru said:
			
		

> We have precious few houserules, and that ain't one of 'em.  But while we're on the subject, shapechange requires a focus...one I haven't been enforcing.




Well you may not enforce it but I do have it written down as an item I have in my inventory.

Huh, I wonder where I got that twice HD rule from?  Might have been another spell...

Yeah, I think I would have remembered slithering around as one of those...

Scorch


----------



## Sandain

All this time I thought it was a Grick, I remember thinking *ewwwww*


----------



## WizarDru

Scorch said:
			
		

> Well you may not enforce it but I do have it written down as an item I have in my inventory.
> 
> Huh, I wonder where I got that twice HD rule from?  Might have been another spell...



 You got it from the PHB, iirc. It was a typo that was corrected in errata, and is in the SRD.  I was just kidding you, since you forgot it was errata and thought it was a houserule.

 The question is, though, do you wear the focus item, as per the spell's requirement? Don't you already have something using the headband slot?


----------



## Argent Silvermage

WizarDru said:
			
		

> You got it from the PHB, iirc. It was a typo that was corrected in errata, and is in the SRD.  I was just kidding you, since you forgot it was errata and thought it was a houserule.
> 
> The question is, though, do you wear the focus item, as per the spell's requirement? Don't you already have something using the headband slot?



oHHH! Busted!


----------



## LordVyreth

WizarDru said:
			
		

> You got it from the PHB, iirc. It was a typo that was corrected in errata, and is in the SRD.  I was just kidding you, since you forgot it was errata and thought it was a houserule.
> 
> The question is, though, do you wear the focus item, as per the spell's requirement? Don't you already have something using the headband slot?




I don't want to nitpick, but that doesn't necessarily matter.  The list in the DMG only lists how many magic items one can wear.  Obviously, there are some physical limits to how many pieces of equipment one can wear; it's essnetially impossible to wear two sets of plate armor at once, for example.  On the other hand, someone can conceivably wear dozens of rings, and they can all even be magical, but only the first two will usually function.  So it's conceivable that Scorch wears two types of head gear at once, and while the focus is the catalyst for for the spell, it isn't inherently magical, and thus shouldn't interfere with a magical item in that same slot.

But I should contribute more than just rules debates to this thread, so here's a question.  I noticed the party's fighter-types tend to already have epic-level weaponry, which is probably a good idea considering nearly every CR 21+ monster in the ELH has epic DR.  However, I found the prices for such weapons to be prohibitively expensive compared to the treasure tables for epic level characters in the book, expecially if they want any magical properties on the weapon at all.  It seemed like this was handled in your campaign by making the character's make their own final weaponry, making each weapon special and generally above the typical buy and sell of normal magic items.  Is my impression generally accurate?  And how will you handle things when players obtain epic weaponry from defeated NPCs?  Or if they want to build a new epic magic weapon later when theirs becomes outdated?  Is there some other reasonable way to handle the expense of these weapons?  It's been a problem in my campaign as well now that my players are finally fighting epic monsters.


----------



## WizarDru

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> I don't want to nitpick, but that doesn't necessarily matter. The list in the DMG only lists how many magic items one can wear.



 Technically, it would hinge on the interpetation of how the headband would actually function.  The rules are, as you might expect, vague on the topic.  There is certainly no limit on said items (other than only one active), but I personally think it would violate the spirit, if not the exact law.



			
				LordVyreth said:
			
		

> It seemed like this was handled in your campaign by making the character's make their own final weaponry, making each weapon special and generally above the typical buy and sell of normal magic items. Is my impression generally accurate? And how will you handle things when players obtain epic weaponry from defeated NPCs? Or if they want to build a new epic magic weapon later when theirs becomes outdated? Is there some other reasonable way to handle the expense of these weapons? It's been a problem in my campaign as well now that my players are finally fighting epic monsters.



 Some good questions, those.  Let's see:

 1) IMC, Epic Weapons can only be obtained in a couple of fashions: personally crafted, gifted or bequested.  Shatterspike first as recovered item, then gift.  It obtained epic status through divine power and the paragon's purity of purpose.  It is NOT epic in the hands of any other wielder.  Kayleigh's bow was crafted.  With the help of the Leshay (and his gift of a branch from the first ash), she toiled at it, and with the right materials, successfully created it.  Shadowcut was bequested to Valanthe, forged for her by the Diamond Prince himself (though he represented it as a gift at the time).  The difference won't be apparent until after next session.

 2) I don't like the epic crafting rules, in general.  Instead, I required that anyone who wished to wield an epic weapon undertake a personal quest to locate a place of power, find the materials and assemble it.  As such, each weapon is a personal investiture, and unique to their wielders.  They would scarce give them up...ever.  

 3) epic weapon loot is rare, even now.  When found, it is usually of the 'unusable' variety.  The Fellsouls weapon, for example, was deemed to foul to allow to exist, and Aethramyr smote it asunder.  Other items tend to work poorly for good characters or out of their environment.  Some they get to keep, if they actually want them.  The role of the character of Fuvex-vex-vex was expanded to help the PCs deal with selling loot, without it becoming a huge chore.  He removes a potential element of tedium, and prevents the element of disbelief from growing too strong. 

 4) The players aren't going to get many further chances to enhance their weapons without serious cash and time.  Few creatures threaten them enough as it is.   If we do decide to enhance them, they need the help of a master of master craftsmen (such as the Diamond Prince) or undertake an epic quest to enhance such a weapon.


----------



## Aethramyr

Craft Epic Arms and Armor is so annoying as written. It's like they deliberatly didn't want the classes that would actually USE the weapon should be allowed to be able to make it. 

Any of the big 3 tank classes, War, Pal, and Bar, the restriction of needing spellcraft 28 and knowledge (arcana) 28 make things a pain. With neither of them being a class skill, having a 13 int means lvl 33 before being able to do it, and that's not taking ANY other skill during those levels. 

Aethramyr


----------



## LordVyreth

So, when's the next play session?  I thought you guys were going to game last satuday, but didn't hear anything about it.  Is it this saturday instead?

Oh and not to give Bolo any random chills again, but did you get all that you needed for this game from the Rogue's Gallery yet?  The discussion kind of petered out after that last post of mine, and I wasn't sure if you were interested in anything else for this game.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> So, when's the next play session?  I thought you guys were going to game last satuday, but didn't hear anything about it.  Is it this saturday instead?



 We played Scorch's game instead. I just Love playing Miccah.



			
				LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Oh and not to give Bolo any random chills again, but did you get all that you needed for this game from the Rogue's Gallery yet?  The discussion kind of petered out after that last post of mine, and I wasn't sure if you were interested in anything else for this game.



Ok... For you. No More story hour. One year!


----------



## kikai

I just want to say that I really like this Story-Hour (though I just read the first pages) and thats a great amusement to read and a tremendous resource and source of Inspiration for my adventure-path. For me, it shows how to weave a great plot around published adventures and how to involve your players. 

Thank you, 

kikai!


----------



## Argent Silvermage

kikai said:
			
		

> I just want to say that I really like this Story-Hour (though I just read the first pages) and thats a great amusement to read and a tremendous resource and source of Inspiration for my adventure-path. For me, it shows how to weave a great plot around published adventures and how to involve your players.
> 
> Thank you,
> 
> kikai!



The Blame falls squarely on the shoulders of Wizardru. If he weren't the masterful story teller he is the game would not work. We're all glad you enjoy the story hour.  
About the using of published materials... I find it really kind of cool how it all blends so well into the game but as Bolo's player find it almost disturbing (in a fun way) when I see things like a published PRc based around Ashardalon. It almost makes Bolo seem like he's a real part of the game universe not just a character in the game. 

I also think Wizardru has a great idea with his secret thread for getting monster ideas form others at EN World. It allows those who don't play in the game itself to contribute. 

*I can never say this enough, Thanks Wizardru for a fantastic world to live in.*


----------



## WizarDru

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> *I can never say this enough, Thanks Wizardru for a fantastic world to live in.*



 Well, thanks.  And in case I hadn't said it lately, make no mistake about it: I'm very lucky to have such an excellent group of gamers.  This is OUR game, and the story wouldn't be nearly so interesting, if I didn't have such interesting characters or interested players to work off of.

 Consider it like a jam session or a good jazz riff.  The players drive the story as much I do.  And that's one of the best parts.


----------



## dravot

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> So, when's the next play session? I thought you guys were going to game last satuday, but didn't hear anything about it. Is it this saturday instead?



 Depending on WizarDru's evil conniving plans, we may do a brief session this Saturday.  Given the upcoming holidaze, we won't be meeting for a couple of weeks afterward, and we're reticent to start something as intensive as the Far Realms and then go on hiatus.



			
				LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Oh and not to give Bolo any random chills again, but did you get all that you needed for this game from the Rogue's Gallery yet? The discussion kind of petered out after that last post of mine, and I wasn't sure if you were interested in anything else for this game.



 Are you giving him ideas?  Don't make me go all Jay and Silent Bob on your  !


----------



## LordVyreth

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> We played Scorch's game instead. I just Love playing Miccah.




Wow, I didn't know you guys even played a second game as well!  What's that one like?  Who's playing it, and what are the characters?  Any chance we can see a second story hour started?



			
				Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> Ok... For you. No More story hour. One year!




Meh, you haven't even fought any of my monsters yet!  Well, not directly; I did give Blackdirge the idea for the minotaur death knight, but since he was small potatoes compared to the spider squid of Doom, that barely counts anyway.  When the first of my monsters ends up killing and/or eating someone, then I'll call your distress justified!   

Anyway, I'd like to compliment the game as well.  One thing that really impressed me was how stable the game has been, despite playing for years.  Since the campaign ended, you've lost one player and gained another.  As any readers of my Story Hour may have noticed, that's practically my monthly average!  Even more impressive, the characters are just as stable.  I find that my characters almost never get raised, partially because of my wonky raise dead house rules, but mostly because everyone is interested in trying out a new concept as soon as the old character is lost.  It makes telling a long-term story difficult, and it's amazing that both players and DM are so into the story and get so emotionally connect to their characters that they resist the urge to try something new at every death.


----------



## LordVyreth

dravot said:
			
		

> Are you giving him ideas?  Don't make me go all Jay and Silent Bob on your  !




Hey, I'm just the crunch guy!  I've been giving him ideas on what kind of fun things you get to kill!  I'm too busy with my own campaign to help him with the Alienist prerequisite-filling plot points!


----------



## dravot

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Wow, I didn't know you guys even played a second game as well! What's that one like? Who's playing it, and what are the characters? Any chance we can see a second story hour started?



 Scorch is running The Lost City of Barakus. Notes have been sketchy, so it may be hard to put together a full Story Hour on it, but it's fun nonetheless. We're all currently third level, just having leveled last session.

  Scorch: Evil DM
  Dravot: Keldin of Descott Valley, halfling ranger (archer build)
  WizarDru: Ravenspur, gnome sorceror
  Valanthe: Aislinn, Human fighter.
  Bolo: Micah, dwarf cleric of Heironeous
  Kayleigh: Absinthe, elf rogue
  Aethramyr: Adson, blind monk (I think human, I forget)

 With an Aislinn, Absinthe and Adson, it gets quite confusing, especially in combat. We may need to have a name approval committee for the next game.

 We call the game our 'Beta campaign', for times when someone can't make it to the session, or WizarDru is too busy with real life to put together an Alpha session for us.  I'm slowly gearing up for the next Beta campaign after Barakus, an Eberron campaign.


----------



## old school 1E

*fantastic story hour!!!!!!!!!*

Well after about a week of dedicated reading (and blowing off some preparation for my GRE exam in mathematics- an exam I would rate at DC30 easy  ) I finally get caught up through the 27 pages of text.  I did skip some of the sidebars so that I could get caught up, though, but the plot and character expression was so enticing I just didnt want to wait to find out "what happens next?" 

I have to say I really enjoy this story hour.  There are two others on here I am currently reading, but both of them I had to pick up midstream as their origins were lost to history.  It was a pleasure to be able to read a story hour from the very beginning.  Seeing the characters start from their humble beginnings with meager talents, and grow to personas known througout the DM's world, makes me long for gameplay again.  What I love the most about the story hour is how the narrative makes the characters so "3-dimensional".  As an example, I looked through the rogues gallery at Scorch (I have a penchant for playing what were "magic users" under 1E rules so I was curious about his stats).  When I first looked at his alignment (around page 10 of the thread as its currently pruned) he was listed as chaotic neutral.  Over the course of the next 7-10 pages, there was a palpable change in the way he dealt with things; at one point I said "his fellow adventurers have affected him a lot!  He acts more like chaotic good than chaotic neutral".  Sure enough, a link in the SH to an update in the gallery showed the alignment change.  The fact that the prose brings the "cold stats" to live is a testament both to the writing and the ability to play your characters.

As an added bonus, its nice to be old enough to get the OOC joke references ("cone of silence" is one that comes to mind).  Simply adds more humor and enjoyment to the readings. 

Of course, none of this would be possible without the DM's ability to create such a challenging, complex world fraught with twists and turns.  It's clear from the get-go that actions of the characters can have consequences, yet the world keeps turning without them.  Seeing the detailed maps and scale models really shows a love the DM has for creating some fun and exciting gameplay.  As PC's feel blessed that you have such a competent DM.

Now that I have come through these 20-some odd pages, I am torn.  Sometime around page 15, the tone of the updates had me saying "crap, there is going to be some epic conclusion with an epilogue that will bring a tear to my eye as the story comes to a close.  Why does it have to end?"  However, as I got close to the end of the thread, I started saying "please dont let it be over, please dont let it be over, please please PLEASE!!!!!".  I guess its another testament to a game setting where great players team up with a great DM.

Anyway, keep it coming!  I cant wait to see how the various plot elements unfold.

Seeyas!

-OS1E


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Glad you like it. Your in our area. maybe we should get together for a board game night?


----------



## old school 1E

sure sounds good.  I could use it after my (dreadful?) exam this morning.  you can email me at pop(underscore)pop(underscore)ret(at)yahoo(dot)com

get someone to write another update too!  i'm jonezin' here!


----------



## Scorch

old school 1E said:
			
		

> What I love the most about the story hour is how the narrative makes the characters so "3-dimensional".  As an example, I looked through the rogues gallery at Scorch (I have a penchant for playing what were "magic users" under 1E rules so I was curious about his stats).  When I first looked at his alignment (around page 10 of the thread as its currently pruned) he was listed as chaotic neutral.  Over the course of the next 7-10 pages, there was a palpable change in the way he dealt with things; at one point I said "his fellow adventurers have affected him a lot!  He acts more like chaotic good than chaotic neutral".  Sure enough, a link in the SH to an update in the gallery showed the alignment change.




Thanks for noticing.  This is something WizarDru and I had several conversations about around two years ago about how Scorch seemed to be acting more and more good in his actions.  There was a turning point in the games and he told me that I should cross off CN and be CG.  For the life of me I am not sure what I did at the time.

Now it is a struggle to remain Chaotic.  Being thrust into the position of Guild Minister means I have to come up with an organization to replace the one that I abhored.  The Grey Guild was a next to useless institution in Scorch's eyes and WizarDru took great pleasure in torturing Scorch with the petty interpersonal BS that it was rife with.  Now I have to come up with a lawful and fair organization of magic users, something that would go against the grain of a chaotic character who HATES authority.  Then I realized that I could not make such an organization since Scorch believes it is an impossibility given the nature of people.  Instead of the mythical fair system Scorch has opted for the more realistic equally unfair to everyone organization.  I was very pleased with what I came up with, especially including sorcerers into what was a wizard-centric guild.  I even made provisions for multiclasses.  Then WizarDru had to come along and knock my feet out from under me and bring bards into the mix... I mean COME ON!  BARDS?!?!?

Scorch


----------



## Zad

> Now it is a struggle to remain Chaotic.



Remain? REMAIN?!? 

Face it dude.  The Man ain't keepin' you down. You have become The Man.

Just go ahead and change your name right now to "Scorch, The Man".

Scorch has made the modern equivalent transition from Democrat to Republican as he aged. I think Lawful Neutral with good tendencies puts it best. (He's sure not lawful good.)



> get someone to write another update too! i'm jonezin' here!



Sorry to say we won't be playing again until January. Holiday schedules and so on conspire to prevent us being simultaneously available. When we return, we'll be heading into the Far Realms to rescue the Silverring. 

That's not to say that another doodle might not get posted, but such things are like rainbows - they just show up when they do.


----------



## LordVyreth

Zad said:
			
		

> Sorry to say we won't be playing again until January. Holiday schedules and so on conspire to prevent us being simultaneously available. When we return, we'll be heading into the Far Realms to rescue the Silverring.




Well in that case, I would like to petition Wizardru to have him post his plans for the next game in his Rogue's Gallery thread.  I'm curious to know what he's got planned for you, and we could either fill in any gaps he has or check to see if he actually plans on using our ideas!


----------



## LordVyreth

Wow, already dropped to page 3!  Well, apparently Dru didn't have the time to elaborate on his plans in the Rogue's Gallery thread, but not matter.  I had another question, especially for Dru, Scorch, Dravot, Bolo, and any other epic spellcasters I missed.  Namely, Epic Spellcasting.  Has anyone bothered to go this route yet?  If so, do you play it by the book or using house rules?  If it is book-standard, how do you handle the XP and monetary costs?  They seem pretty extreme even for the mid twenties levels you guys are on.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> I had another question, especially for Dru, Scorch, Dravot, Bolo, and any other epic spellcasters I missed.  Namely, Epic Spellcasting.  Has anyone bothered to go this route yet?  If so, do you play it by the book or using house rules?  If it is book-standard, how do you handle the XP and monetary costs?  They seem pretty extreme even for the mid twenties levels you guys are on.



Check out this thread for all of your answers.
http://www.enworld.org/forums/showthread.php?t=110895

Scorch is the only one with Epic spells at the moment. I'm assuming Dravot and Bolo will happen upon some but I have no intentions of trying to create one.


----------



## Scorch

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Wow, already dropped to page 3!  Well, apparently Dru didn't have the time to elaborate on his plans in the Rogue's Gallery thread, but not matter.  I had another question, especially for Dru, Scorch, Dravot, Bolo, and any other epic spellcasters I missed.  Namely, Epic Spellcasting.  Has anyone bothered to go this route yet?  If so, do you play it by the book or using house rules?  If it is book-standard, how do you handle the XP and monetary costs?  They seem pretty extreme even for the mid twenties levels you guys are on.




Like Argent said, I gots 'em.  After defeating the ShadowTaker we found, in addition to the two spell books that had EVERY PHB SPELL IN THEM, two stone tablets with the epic spells Epic Mage Armor and Periapty (sp?) on them.  Scorch held on to those until he hit 24th which is when I took Epic Spell Casting.  He then spent some time in the Library, a demi-plane where time moves quicker, and memmed them into his repetoire.  WizarDru had it only cost time.  Now, under certain conditions, I can get my AC up to around 60.  Woo-hoo!  

If the game keeps going past 26th I may start taking levels in Arcane Lord, an epic level prestige class that was in one of the Dragon magazines.

The question of other epic spells has been bandied about but no one has really pressed the issue yet.

Scorch


----------



## WizarDru

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Wow, already dropped to page 3! Well, apparently Dru didn't have the time to elaborate on his plans in the Rogue's Gallery thread, but not matter. I had another question, especially for Dru, Scorch, Dravot, Bolo, and any other epic spellcasters I missed. Namely, Epic Spellcasting. Has anyone bothered to go this route yet? If so, do you play it by the book or using house rules? If it is book-standard, how do you handle the XP and monetary costs? They seem pretty extreme even for the mid twenties levels you guys are on.



 Sorry, been crazy mad busy, what with the holidays and work, and just plain forgot.  I'll try to get to it later this week/week-end.  You could always pop by this thread to hear some of our discussion on Epic Spellcasting.
 (_EDIT: Looks like Argent beat me to it. Shows how long I've had this window open at work, huh?_)

 Currently, no one would bother trying to get Epic Spellcasting, due to the cost.  Scorch has, as mentioned, two spells that were found as loot.  Frankly, I'm still debating what to do about it.  I'm considering adapting Trainz Epic Spellcasting system, but I haven't reached a decision, yet.


----------



## Krafus

Hello, everyone. I'm a long-time lurker who's finally decided to unlurk... and, among other things, mention I much I enjoy this story hour, especially now that the characters are epic-level.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Krafus said:
			
		

> Hello, everyone. I'm a long-time lurker who's finally decided to unlurk... and, among other things, mention I much I enjoy this story hour, especially now that the characters are epic-level.



As unofficial Spokesman for the Meepites Thanks for the compliment. It's always great to hear from fans. (Good lord... we have fans. can groupies be far behind?)


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*Next Game Day!!!!*

Jan. 8th 2005

How will our dashing Paladin and his merry (and one Gay) cohorts rescue the Silvering? Even we don't freeking know.


----------



## LordVyreth

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> Jan. 8th 2005
> 
> How will our dashing Paladin and his merry (and one Gay) cohorts rescue the Silvering? Even we don't freeking know.




Exx-cellent.  Well, how about it, Wizardru?  Can you give us a quick hint about if you used any of your eager helpers ideas?  Throw me a bone here, I was sick for a whole week, and even had to miss a New Year's Day party as a result.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*I found it!*

I always wondered where Magical Trevor came from... Here


----------



## LordVyreth

That...weird.  It's actually pretty interesting, but it's a shame it repeats so quickly.

Personally, I stil preferred when Dru had the puppet Angel avatar...


----------



## WizarDru

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Exx-cellent. Well, how about it, Wizardru? Can you give us a quick hint about if you used any of your eager helpers ideas? Throw me a bone here, I was sick for a whole week, and even had to miss a New Year's Day party as a result.




 Sorry, been REALLY busy.  We're in the middle of a living-room redesign, the latest phase of which took almost the entire day yesterday.  It concludes tomorrow, when we install even more new furniture.  We have the game this afternoon, and we've got a wrestling match and a basketball game to go to before that.  

 Suffice it to say that:
_“The time has come,” the Walrus said,
 “To talk of many things:
 Of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax—
 Of cabbages—and kings—
 And why the sea is boiling hot—
 And whether pigs have wings.”

_And if you look closely, you can find your hint in there.


----------



## WizarDru

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> I always wondered where Magical Trevor came from... Here




 How did you miss me playing it at the game, twice, really loudly?


----------



## Argent Silvermage

WizarDru said:
			
		

> How did you miss me playing it at the game, twice, really loudly?



Totally and utterly self absorbed? 
Too Busy trying not to get eaten?
Wondering when my new Animal Companion will show?
A.D.D. 

The list goes on and on.


----------



## dravot

It's the Far Realms!  Will save DC 40 everyone!


----------



## WizarDru

All will serve the Emperor.

 Certain creatures will be familiar in the next update, slightly gussied up, perhaps.


----------



## LordVyreth

WizarDru said:
			
		

> All will serve the Emperor.
> 
> Certain creatures will be familiar in the next update, slightly gussied up, perhaps.




Innnteresting.  That being said, I may have to seek revenge against you by not helping you with any more ideas.  Why?  Because. I. Can't. Get. Magical. Trevor. Out. Of. My. Frigging. BRAIN!! Seriously, that thing is insanely catchy.  And I thought Badger was crack for your ears.


----------



## dravot

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Innnteresting.  That being said, I may have to seek revenge against you by not helping you with any more ideas.  Why?  Because. I. Can't. Get. Magical. Trevor. Out. Of. My. Frigging. BRAIN!! Seriously, that thing is insanely catchy.  And I thought Badger was crack for your ears.



Do you know why you can't get rid of the song?  Because Magical Trevor is ever so clever.  

It was a fun game, and we had a guest with us, to boot.  The Far Realms is a whacky place, indeed.  I fully expect one or more party members to pick up a level of alienist before this is over.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Dravot to Bolo, "Excuse me master Druid but when did you pick up the Pseudo-natural template for your dire bear form?"


----------



## Zad

We did indeed play but it may take more time than usual to get the update written. Very busy at work and things.


----------



## Valanthe the Sleepless

*the unseen "Hand"*

In some of the in-between time, Scorch has been busy with the guild reconstruction. And as strange as it seems, Val has a role to play in this as well...

-------------------

I don’t keep diaries.

I hate ‘em.  This is just some notes, so I remember things later.  You know… who needs watching, who needs to be taken care of and what I want to call them as I kick ‘em off the cliff and watch ‘em fall.  That sort of thing.

Hammer’s been redecorating his home a lot lately.  I swear, he thinks he’s a dwarf, not a dragon, sometimes.  I had to stop by after the nonsense with Dravot’s grandfather. The Forge (does anyone even remember to call it the Stone Tooth, anymore?) has a long series of catwalks on the outside of it, now.  At the top is the Concordant’s Tower.

What IS it with wizards, anyways?  Scorch and all the rest have to have these extravagant houses like some Dyvers silk merchant, showing off their ‘secret’ lair.  A giant stone tower with smoke coming out of it that’s visible from 10 miles off isn’t that hard to find.  Idiots.

So, Hammer and I got reacquainted, and then I had some actual business to take care of.  Luckily, unlike most wizards, the Concordant’s name actually applies to him.  I took advantage of the chance to keep my skills in shape, and broke in.  I know, I know… it’s a bad habit.  But I can’t help it!  I mean, defenses were made to be tested.  You see a lock, I see a challenge… a gauntlet that some smarmy jerk threw down, just DARING me to get inside.  It was pathetically easy.

Well, that’s not fair.  The Concordant isn’t the ShadowTaker, he’s just a odd fellow with a talent for the weird.  As Scorch gets more skilled, he gets… surlier.  Not colder, really, but just more calculating.  He’s always looking at things… and People (!) like he’s weighing their value.  This new ‘Guild Minister’ nonsense may not be a phase, after all.  He can still be ‘goosed’, though.  Trust me on that one.   Anyhow, I snuck in and startled the poor little wizard, but he relaxed pretty quickly.  Between you and me, I think he’s been smoking some of those weeds from the Amedio jungle… he’s smarter than Scorch about some things… but he’s very… odd.  Just odd.

Never mind.  The point is that I got his attention.

“Woah.  You’re that…uhm…Valanthe, right?”

“None other.  I have a favor to ask, from Scorch.”  He was paying attention, but he didn’t suddenly kowtow or get nervous the way some mages do when I mention Scorchie’s name.  Weeds, I’m telling ya, weeds.

“From, uh, the Guild Minister.  Right, …OK.”  He stumbled around looking for some parchment.  Eventually I pointed out he was carrying some in his hand, when I figured out what he was up to.  “Thanks.  Uhm, so is this for the Guild?”

“Sort of,” I explained.  “The guild needs its own…what can I call it?  Its own conscience.  I’m in charge of it, and I need some amulets or rings or something to identify members to the guild and each other.”

“Woah.”  He looked at me oddly.

“Yes, well, can you make something like that?”  I was busy trying to figure out if he was checking me out (Hey, a girl always likes to be noticed) or if he actually was working towards something.  

“Uhm, yeah. I’ve got some basic ones premade I can adapt, I guess.  Could you stop fading in and out like that?  It’s real hard to talk to you when you do that.  It’s freaking me out, y’know.”  I realized I was inadvertantly shifting in and out of the void.  I do that, sometimes.  It’s just second nature, and he needs better lighting in his lab.  I concentrated to allow him to keep noticing me.

“That’d be perfect,” I said.  Without meaning to, I broke out into a smile.  Nothing, to me, is funnier than putting one over on a wizard.  I can’t tell you why that is.  Being impossible to see to a fairly powerful one?  Yeah, it’s a kick.  

“You want anything on them, like a symbol or…?” was his next question.

“Yes.  I want…a Hand.  That’s who we are, and who we’ll be…the Hand of the Guild.”

“Oh, right.  How many are we…uh, you?”

“Hah! Well we’re four now, lad, and we’ll need a good twenty more, by my reckoning,” cried Burlden, apparating from the ethereal.  Verilunda and Littleshade followed.  The Concordant let out a girlish shriek for each one, and it took me several minutes to quiet him down after that.  We discussed a few more things and he gave me some notes with wizard nonsense on it for Scorch, and then we departed.

Gods, I love spooking wizards.


----------



## Zodar

Oooo! Excellent player update! I love Val's 'style'.


----------



## Zad

Sorry for the delay. I've been sick most of this week and it's really holding up the update.


----------



## Zad

*The next update*

OOC Notes:
Exp is a flat 2000 per person.

With us this week we had a guest! Dave came and played Windsaber for the night. And a good time was had by all.

This Week’s Adventure:
Most of the group went to Nyr Dyv to attempt to find Ralishaz again. I really couldn’t quite follow the why’s and wherefor’s. If the Shadow King is a shadow of Therizdun, then what light is casting the shadow? Venn saw that, and it drove him mad. But would he remember? And could he even describe it in terms that would have any meaning? Scorch thought it was important to investigate since it seemed to be linked to the Silverring, and there was little risk at any rate.

They appeared on the shores of the Nyr Dyv, and eventually a pulsing light – a lantern archon – came to investigate them. They made their plea and after a time, a circle rose up from the ground and the Gambler sprouted from the earth.

“Thank you for seeing us,” Aethramyr said.

“It seems like it was just yesterday,” he said wryly.

Aethramyr quickly explained their purpose and the Gambler grimaced, searching for words. “This memory is still with us, to a degree. It is… understanding the basic fundamental nature of the universe. And it was unpleasant. It is something you will have to master one day, Aethramyr. The Far Realms are nothing and everything.”

“But then what separates it from Limbo?” Scorch asked.

The Gambler looked over coolly “I was talking to the paladin.”

Scorch stayed silent.

The Gambler continued on to Aethramyr. “Inconstancy is its only constant. But you cannot bring your friends through the Dreaming with you – that way is only for you. The focus you gave the wizard is an abomination but we have tolerated it for a while. I suggest you get rid of it.”

“Do you know why the Silverring might have gone to the Far Realms?” Aethramyr asked.

“It is difficult to say. The Silverring was ever aware of the threat the theerparts represent. I think he was looking for a solution to your imminent problem. I believe you factored into this, as did the people of the Testing. The Silverring was responsible for chosing each and every one of you, even Rackhir.”

They thanked the Gambler and took their leave. There was much to know, but it seemed to all hover on the edge of understanding or even words themselves. Of course this left another approach – start looking and wait for the trouble to find us. 

It’s worked well in the past.

We all met up at the Lendore Isles. Aethramyr wanted to examine the Silverring’s cave before we went to the Far Realms to see if there were any clues left behind for us. An elf was waiting for us at the docks, knowing we were coming. He offered us refreshments and seemed somewhat disappointed that we didn’t accept but he understood. Instead he took us directly to the Silverring’s cave.

Entry was not a simple process, as he deactivated various traps and wards along the way. We could have bypassed them ourselves most likely, but it would have been inconvenient for them to reset them all and there was no need. The cave, which started out wet with the sea air, became warmer and drier and finally opened tino a large chamber. There were stacks of books as old as the Sule empire and piles of chests. To one side was a stone relief of elves representing the battle between the grey elves, the humans, and the storm lords. Amidst this sprawled across nearly 100 feet on a bed of silver coins was the sleeping form of the Silverring. 

We began looking around, having no idea what we were looking for. On one side was a passageway that held a silver mirror eight feet high in a frame. Bolo and Dravot noticed it quickly and were drawn to it. The surface rippled ever so slightly.

Without hesitation Bolo put his head through the mirror which parted like water, shocking us at his lack of caution.

[OOC: Says Wizardru “Tomb of horrors is going to be fun with you.”]

Beyond the mirror was an open glade – the mirror was a portal to a demi-plane. We set that aside and continued investigating the cave.

One one bookcase was some hastily scrawled abyssal script. It was odd for its presence but also for its somewhat obvious nature. Obvious to us at any rate. Knowing Fraz had an interest in all this made us extremely cautious so rather than just disable it ourselves, we decided to call in the professional.

You see, we hadn’t quite realized that Valanthe wasn’t with us. She drifts in and out so much that we tend to just assume she’s about. I used to be able to follow her movements most of the time, but lately it’s becoming the more rare case that I can find her. And that’s saying quite a bit. It turned out she wasn’t with us, so we asked her to check out the bookcase.

Valanthe arrived while most of the rest of the group investigated the demi-plane. The more she looked, the more impressed she became. The trap appeared to simply set fire to the bookcase, but that was only the start. At a deeper level, it would cause a chain reaction and set fire to a great deal of the books and scrolls here. But that too was a layer of deception. The whole thing was a recent addition but must have taken several weeks to prepare in stages. Transvalent magic was clearly involved here. The key seemed to be disabling it – if you saw the trap and disabled it in the obvious manner, it would trigger a magic circle of some kind and transport most of the cave and its contents to some other plane, likely somewhere in the abyss. To circumvent it, you would have to disable it in exactly the right manner.

And therefore I suggested we don’t. The trap would do nothing unless you tampered with it – it was all risk, with no reward. It could be ignored for now, provided the people of the Testing were warned not to tamper with it. It was a tar pit and potentially had more deception layered on it and it was clearly left as curiousity for us. Therefore the easiest way to defy Fraz was to simply leave it be.

In the demi-plane, there was a forest glade and a mountain nearby with carved stone steps leading up it. As they went up the stairs they heard a booming voice call “It’s about time. I was beginning to wonder…” Then as the titan peered down the stairs and saw the group, he said “… who are you?”

After a moment, recognition dawned on both sides. The titan was Benkalvar, Gelban’s son whom we had met after Gelban’s rescue. The Silverring taught him planar mechanics here in preparation for him to take over this demi-plane. 

Scorch took a look at some of his workbooks and the material was quite advanced. Scorch is no slouch on planar mechanics but some of it was completely beyond him. They had a discussion on the Far Realms but Benkalvar did not know much on that subject. 

The group returned to the cave and learned of the trap. While they were gone I had also learned that the people of the Testing did a regular inventory of the contents of the cave. I asked them to bring those records so that we could see anything that had come or gone starting in the weeks prior to the Silverring’s sleep that we might find some clues. It turned out most of the missing inventory was in the possession of Benkalvar, but there were books missing on the ancient Sule empire and one on the creation of the binders written by the Silverring himself. Also there was a missing tome that was a specific reference on the formation of the Sule empire including a biography of some of the emperors.

Interesting but not directly helpful for today’s job. It was time to go.

Scorch had to do some extra work to make the plane shift move us to the Far Realms via the focus Aethramyr brought back. It had grown tentacles and a mouth and latched on to Scorch and ultimately bit him as the spell was being cast. We were torn in new directions stretched in ways I can’t describe. Reality suddenly almost snapped back into place and we were in a large green field running over a slight hill. The sky was blue, the sun was clear, and there were light clouds in the sky.

I tried to prepare myself for anything, but this was definitely not what I expected.

A hundred feet away, and imp sat on a rock, muttering. Bolo cast True Seeing and the energy rippled off in every direction and the imp’s head snapped up looking in our direction.

The imp shuddered. “Faces…” it said. Then it fell over.

Then I noticed a deep rumble from far away. It slowly built in intensity and the ground started shaking.

And at that moment I knew: It was Bolo’s fault.

And then we noticed that Dravot had no shadow. The rest of us did, but Dravot had none. (And not the shadow of light we had grown used to either.)  When Scorch shapeshifted, he gave off a similar wave of energy. He didn’t look like a solar but more a charicature of one made of stained glass. 

And then the sky turned blood red and the ground began resolving into shapes. The grass was drawn down as the ground formed into thousands upon thousands of faces that started gibbering and gnashing in a rolling wave. They came down from a mountain and devoured anything they touched.

Scorch wasted no time and shot straight up while the rest of us got into the air. From the opposite side another wave of faces was coming, consuming a nearby village and everything in it. Scorch suddenly hit something in the sky and tore through…skin.

He burst out of what I can only assume was a creature that we were inside. Scorch was suddenly exposed to the entirety of the Far Realms and his mind reeled from the unnatural geometry. Behind him, faces appeared at the edge of the hole and began vomiting new skin. 

We wasted no more time and left the creature. It took us some time to even begin to get used to the insane sights before us, and I wonder if we’ll ever be the same from it. Most of us were disturbed in some way by it, but we moved on finally.

The things I saw I have to fight to remember let alone describe. Nodules of organic quartz, ooze flying thousands of direcitns. Things floating everywhere. Strange sounds permeate the place – sometimes a word can be made out but most of it is gibberish. 

There was a tree-ish thing. It had branches and roots but wasn’t wood but more like slime or crystal. Then a dozen leaves broke off the branches and were actually fleshy creatures vaguely bat-like. They were interconnected by some kind of trail of goo. They moved towards us like a flight of predators and Scorch made out words in ancient Sule. “Not we.”

They were moving fast, or perhaps were just closer than they seemed – distance was so hard to judge here. Scorch threw a lightning ball, but it arced over the net with no effect. As the spell flew, it tore the Far Realms and left a starry trail behind that I had only seen once but had never forgotten – it looked like the puddles of stars under Castle Greyhawk in the cambion’s prison chamber.

The bats then separated into various fleshy bits hovering around a central part and continued coming towards us. Valanthe drew Shadowcut and it started speaking! Very, very loudly.

“YES! WE SHALL VANQUISH THEM!”

If we hadn’t been under attack in the Far Realms, I might have found more time to cherish the look on Valanthe’s face. Shatterspike too was speaking but with somewhat less… enthusiasm. Fortunately my bow said nothing. I suspect this may be beause it was already part of something alive.

Since lightning was not working, I tried a fireball from the bow. It did seem to have some effect but the bats kept coming. In response the bats drew closer, and then the web energized with a dark black power and shot forth a spray of energy. It manifested as a windstorm which buffeted several of us about. Windsaber fell off the flying carpet but I think that was more due to the fact that he believed he would fall.

[OOC: I then called them the “Tholian Bats”]

They were close now, and we just had at them in the way that we do. Swords and spells flew around and we managed to hack them apart and collect ourselves. On the “tree”, new leaves were growing to replace the destroyed ones. But they weren’t moving and so we moved on.

We could spot several silver cords in the area but had no way to tell which we were looking for, or if they were it. Dravot resorted to powerful divination magic and revealed that the Silverring was in the stomach of a creature called Xukrischis (which was like the thing we appeared in.) And we had a sense of how to get there. Sort of.

As we began moving in that “direction”, everything suddenly shifted. The “sky” became a whitish color. Objects faded in and out. The Silverring was now in a different creature’s stomach entirely.

Dravot and Scorch had a discussion that I just couldn’t follow involving planar mechanics and dimensions. We had to translate to a different “place” or axis to align with the Silverring. Scorch managed to move the group and we were now in a position where we could move “physically” to reach the Silverring. After the translation, Scorch had grown some kind of sheath over his head and his eye was pulled back. He was hearing the voices of ancient Sule emperors. Emperor Zinkman. (The first Sule emperor was Emperor Zinkman Ad Zol.) Apparently the djinn put him here as retribution for his creation of the binders. St. Cuthbert broke his mind when Zinkman declared himself a god, and the djinn put him here and made him immortal so he could not die. Scorch was, quite simply, losing it.

It was about this time that paragon fire beholders started looking really good to me.

We continued to move towards the old dragon. In our path came two massive creatures, like fifty foot long centaur but with the heads of lizards and their arms ended in swords. We threw several spells but they not only ignored them but sent some of the energy back at us. Then Scorch managed to paralyze both of them, and we dispatched them without any fuss. But Scorch… the cowl was covering more of his head after the spell. He was changing into something. I could only hope we finished here before he lost it completely.

More movement, and something began to come into focus. It was all at once gigantic and yet not so. It took time but I made it at some seventy feet long. It emitted strange noises and odors. There were strands of mucus ten feet across. On one end were hard ridges resembling a mouth, while the other end was tapered and secreting something.

In its massive body of mucus, creatures floated. I could make out several silver cords that led inside it, including one particularly large cord that led to a large silvery form in the center of the creature. We had found the Silverring. But how to get him out?

“Well…” said a familiar voice “that certainly looks like a problem.”

Aethramyr said “Hello Fraz.”


----------



## LordVyreth

Hehe, interesting.  I'm glad to see that some of my monster suggestions (the bats and the centaurs were both mine, albeit with major changes,) made it into the game, though I was hoping they wouldn't be dispatched so easily.  The Murdeans (what I called the lizard-centaurs,) were especially good at swallowing whole enemies, and it would have been an honor to contribute to that Bolo running gag!   

Now I'm curious to know exactly how Wizardru changed them, and if he plans on using any of the other creatures.  And I had to admit I missed a reference.  Wizadru thought you'd call them "Tholian" creatures as well, but I can't remember where that came from.  Could you explain the name?


----------



## Aethramyr

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Wizadru thought you'd call them "Tholian" creatures as well, but I can't remember where that came from.  Could you explain the name?





Oooofff...Geek cred slipping, LordVyreth...If we mentioned a "Tholian Web" would it help?


----------



## LordVyreth

Aethramyr said:
			
		

> Oooofff...Geek cred slipping, LordVyreth...If we mentioned a "Tholian Web" would it help?




No, but my good friends Google and TVtome did.  Sorry, I never was much of a Trekkie.  I saw most of the movies, but I never got past a season or two into most of the later series, and my view of TOS has been sporadic.  I'm more curious to know how my babies fared in battle at the moment, anyway.


----------



## WizarDru

Leave the poor fellow, alone.  

 The Tholians are a Star Trek, Original Series, reference. They were fairly alien aliens, as TOS aliens go, and their ships could create the Tholian Web.  An entirely coincidental comparison, that episode is extremely apropos for a story about the Far Realms, and maybe I unintentionally channeled them.

 I'll post more details tomorrow, if all goes well.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Hehe, interesting.  I'm glad to see that some of my monster suggestions it would have been an honor to contribute to that Bolo running gag!



_I hate you._


----------



## Sandain

Poor Zinkman.


*cackle*


----------



## old school 1E

*quick thanks to everyone!*

Thanks everyone for letting me sit in.  I had a really good time and I hope I didn't throw off the rhythm of the game too much....

Oh, and the phrase "free your mind" will never have the same meaning again 

-OS1E


----------



## WizarDru

old school 1E said:
			
		

> Thanks everyone for letting me sit in. I had a really good time and I hope I didn't throw off the rhythm of the game too much....
> 
> Oh, and the phrase "free your mind" will never have the same meaning again




And we were glad to have you!  It just occured to me that we never actually mentioned _who_ our guest was. 

I'm home sick today, so maybe (assuming the new server isn't too buggy) I'll try and give some details about the changes in the thread that must not be named.


----------



## LordVyreth

WizarDru said:
			
		

> And we were glad to have you!  It just occured to me that we never actually mentioned _who_ our guest was.
> 
> I'm home sick today, so maybe (assuming the new server isn't too buggy) I'll try and give some details about the changes in the thread that must not be named.




Sounds good!  And now I'm curious about the guest as well.  All I know so far was he was the only one who really got affected by the bats' Fiend Blast, though now I'm not sure how badly the fall from the carpet was.

Oh, and did you have the next game yet, or will it be little longer?


----------



## dravot

A combination of inclement weather, sick kids and other flotsam conspired to keep us from playing this past weekend.  If we had played, it wouldn't have been the main campaign (ie, this one).

Hopefully, we'll play this weekend.  We're scheduling up now.


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

New Reader here, and another on the list who enjoy this story hour and discussion.  Moving from low-level play up through Epic levels is a fine piece, and a credit to all of you that you've kept it together.  Keep up the good fun.  Especially thank you to Zad and the other players for keeping the story going with their characters' perspectives.

GW


----------



## Zad

> It just occured to me that we never actually mentioned who our guest was.




Because I didn't know his board name and didn't want to screw it up. I felt reasonably confident he'd post, now that we freed his mind and all.

http://www.illwillpress.com/vault.html

Play the one on the bottom row named "Free your mind". Then go play "Amityville Toaster" (my personal favorite).


----------



## Argent Silvermage

All Hail Foamy, Master of the Squirrelly Wrath.


----------



## WizarDru

Of course, we'll have to kill him now.  He knows that the entire game is a tissue of lies predicated on the readers of ENWorld, and he might talk.


----------



## ThoughtBubble

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Of course, we'll have to kill him now.  He knows that the entire game is a tissue of lies predicated on the readers of ENWorld, and he might talk.




You have no idea how much better hearing that makes me feel.


----------



## old school 1E

Zad said:
			
		

> Because I didn't know his board name and didn't want to screw it up. I felt reasonably confident he'd post, now that we freed his mind and all.
> 
> http://www.illwillpress.com/vault.html
> 
> Play the one on the bottom row named "Free your mind". Then go play "Amityville Toaster" (my personal favorite).





i am the guest whose mind has been freed!

(i thought i mentioned this before)

watch out for the Kavorkian Scarf of Constrction -4!!


----------



## Seule

I've posted before congratulating you on running a successful Epic game.  Since you guys went epic, I've completed two campaigns (one into epic, just) and started a third.  I congratulate you on your staying power!  You have managed to make an engrossing story to read (and presumably to play) last far longer than I ever could.

  --Seule


----------



## dravot

Thanks, Seule!  We enjoy the game, and it's cool that we can share it with others.

We play tonight...will we find the Silvering tonight?  Where's Fraz?  What's up with El Scorcho?


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Ok... So i'm a burned out treant....at least nothing eat me yet.


um.... never mind....


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

Bolo died again? another reincarnation as a Treant?

Just when you think it's safe to go adventuring again.  Wham.

GW


----------



## dravot

Graywolf-ELM said:
			
		

> Bolo died again?
> 
> GW



Not yet, but the night is young yet 
What's death mean in the Far Realms anyway?  That's what we're trying to understand right now.


----------



## Len

dravot said:
			
		

> What's death mean in the Far Realms anyway?  That's what we're trying to understand right now.



Whoops, there's your level of Alienist!


----------



## dravot

Len said:
			
		

> Whoops, there's your level of Alienist!



Heh.  You're soooo not kidding.  I'm debating a level of alienist for serious.  I'll have to mull it over a bit first.


----------



## Zad

*Fire in the Blood - Chapter 4*

*Fire in the Blood - Chapter 4*

To the readers:
_Tonight, on a very special Savage Sword of Meepo…_

Before we get started I’d like to say something: I’m sorry. It was a great session, and as I sit down to start writing it, I am realizing what a sad reflection it will be of the gameplay that night. Scorch, you see, is being dominated, and is generally losing his mind from all outward appearances. How can I write anything that captures his maniacal glances? His talking aside to the air? His tapping of his fingers together? Even if I had captured every word of dialog, it wouldn’t matter. It wasn’t the words, it was the delivery that made it great. I’ve been fortunate in writing this story all these years to make gold out of lead a couple times, but this time I think the reverse will be true. If you can imagine a half-comical Renfield, you’ll be on your way.

Experience:
23: 5175
24: 3600

This moves at least two more people into being 24th level if you were interested.

This Week’s Adventure:
Fraz stood on a small planetoid that seemed to be an island of stability in the ever-shifting Far Realms. Instead of being comforting, it just threw everything else into a worse perspective and made me feel a wave of nausea. He was wearing light silks in black and purple and was very handsome, if you liked jet-black skin. The only weapon he showed was an immense greatsword across his back, but I’m sure it was more for show than anything. 

“So you came after all,” he smiled.

Aethramyr and I looked at each other and both shrugged. “Hello Fraz,” Aethramyr said over his shoulder. It was all the conversation we cared to have with him.

“So what now? Are you going to attack it? Cleave it in twain? Perhaps smite it with the force of your gods?” Fraz was grinning.

The truth was we had no idea. We didn’t say a word to Fraz of course, though I’m sure it was apparent to him. In fact all of us made a point of ignoring him. Whether he was surprised, depressed or amused, I couldn’t say.

The creature Xukrischis was large. It was hard to gauge how big – it seemed eighty feet long but I could tell that was a lie of the Far Realms, since the Silverring was a mere blob inside and he himself was that large. By using the context of the captured victims, I surmised it was the size of a village. We made two long, careful circuits around the creature to see what we could learn, but it was precious little. It was more like the universe was rotating around us and it and the effect was unsettling. The creature (if it was a creature) was vaguely symmetrical. There were spines or fins occasionally. We could not see far below the surface but there were dozens, perhaps hundreds of creatures trapped inside. Most of the shapes were humanoid.  Floating on the surface were eyes of various types. The eyes didn’t seem overly intent on us but at the same time there was always a few watching us.

We had returned to something vaguely like our starting point, with little to show for it. Scorch was still babbling quite a bit. He was having conversations with someone but when we asked who he was talking to, he’d always turn back and say something like “Hm? What? Me? Oh nobody. Nothing at all.”

Bolo suddenly started moving closer. I suppose he was tired of being careful. As a reward for his curiousity, several of the eyes under the surface started at him, and then with an intense glare, beams of light shot out at Bolo. The beams knocked him backwards towards us and he began to change. He sprouted roots and branches and his skin turned to bark. He became some twisted kind of treant with strange teeth sprouting in odd locations.

“That’s not the way in,” Fraz said.

“No, not the way in. Not at all,” Scorch started babbling. Then with a sudden start he proclaimed “Stories! We must tell it stories!”

“Why would you think that Scorch?” 

“What? I was told… I mean I just ah,” he stumbled as he kept looking back and forth to an empty space next to him. “No reason… well I mean I just thought it would be the way in after all. It’s perfectly obvious.” And then he tried to harrumph convincingly.

Scorch was losing his mind. And I didn’t have the faintest idea what to do about it except free the Silverring and get out of here and hopefully he’d come back.

Bolo, always game to try anything, started telling a story. As the tale went on, some of the captives inside bumped up against the edge of the skin and others were yanked back inside. At the end of the story, Bolo suddenly burst into flame and was an even more twisted version of a flame-blasted treant.

So while there was a reaction, it didn’t seem to help us get the Silverring free.

Valanthe appeared and then immediately doubled over with a pain in her midsection. She became even more shadowy and started phasing in and out of… here. (I can hardly say “reality”.) The pain faded a moment later but the shadowy form persisted, although she didn’t seem to be suffering due to it.

Dravot shrugged, and took a different approach. He told the story of St. Beline. 

“Must you utter such vulgar things in My presence?” Fraz snorted.

Dravot’s appearance also shifted. He looked more like a statue – sort of an idealized version of himself. He could still move however. During his story, the eyes focused a bit more on Dravot but otherwise there was no reaction. We seemed to be losing ground.

So Bolo tried again. He told the story of Ashardalon. Fraz giggled a bit then accompanied him with inappropriate music on a lute he pulled from somewhere. At the end Bolo spasmed and his eyes caught fire. His chest exploded and a creature clawed out of the hole. It looked around and screamed then it collapsed back inside his chest. A metal plate formed over the hole. But there was no reaction from Xukrischis. Bolo tried other stories but there was no reaction.

Scorch decided to test the waters by casting a spell. I didn’t know the spell but it was clearly transvalent. After it was complete he contorted into a maniacal position. His hair fell out but was replaced with more facial hair. He sounded even more insane than before.

We were getting nowhere and in fact likely doing damage to ourselves. Aethramyr decided to take a bigger risk, and entered the dreaming. Once there he tried to tug on the Silverring’s silver cord, but his hand passed through. But while dreaming,  his appearance changed. His hair was sparkling with starts and his cloak was flowing in an intangible wind. His armor became more ornate and fantastic and he was backlit by the full moon in a night sky.

Aethramyr looked at the creature from within the dreaming. He could feel a hunger like it was a palpable thought. The creature was hungry for us and growing impatient. 

It wanted to consume us. The transformations were somehow part of the process. But one of us was still untransformed – me. It released a scream we felt more than heard. The local reality shook in terror. It shot its beams of light at me and I too changed. I became wispier, and thinner – more fey, for lack of a better term. My bow sprouted buds and leaves like a spring branch. 

Then Xukrischis split along one axis, and it moved to envelop us. It consumed the entire horizon as it moved closer. 

We were consumed into darkness. As the halves flowed over us like oceans, someone said “So this is what it’s like to be Bolo…”

[OOC: I’ll offer my thanks to Wizardru for moving us along at this point. I was stuck. I knew, out of character, that we’d need to all be transformed for the story to move forward. But in-character, I just couldn’t look at “being eaten” in anything like a good way. I was quite honestly searching for a way to re-align my in-character perspective so we could stop standing there but was coming up with nothing. So Wizardru did the kind thing – he ate us.  ]

After several seconds, the darkness faded as if candles were being lit all around. We stood in a field of yellow and white flowers reaching as far as we could see. Our forms were all still changed but now in addition we were puppets. Each of us had strings from our joints trailing up into the sky. When I looked to see where they went, my mind wrenched in a way that told me that was a bad thing to do. At least the strings weren’t hampering our movement for the time being.

Moments later two things began descending from the invisible ceiling. The center mass was vaguely spiderish but covered in gnashing mouths. There were eight legs covered in spikes, and large mandibles surrounding sharp teeth.

As they descended they fired beams from their eyes. It was then we realized they were like some twisted form of retrievers. Their long legs gave them phenomenal reach and they closed on us quickly. As one passed Valanthe, she struck at it. Under the skin was not blood or muscle but worms that spilled out of the wound. 

Bolo shifted to a red dragon form but the fire breath had little impact. Scorch’s polar ray did somewhat better, as did my arrows. At least this was the kind of threat we knew how to handle and we waded in to it hammer-and-tongs.

The creatures were incredibly fast and lethal with their legs. It was only my mirror image spell that saved my life at least twice. Aethramyr was nearly torn apart at one point, only to be healed by Dravot to return to the fight. It was a close thing but we were slowly wearing them down. 

Then one of them reached out and tore Scorch’s body to pieces. He fell to the flowered field spraying blood across the petals. Perhaps we weren’t winning after all. Scorch’s pieces began floating off to one side, drawn who-knows-where, perhaps for final consumption.

We renewed our attacks and the spiders fell first one then the other. Their bodies began sinking into the field, the area around them turning spongy. We ignored them and started trying to find where Scorch had floated off to. 

“Well on the plus side,” said Dravot “with a True Ressurection, I don’t really need the body.” At least we could still laugh.

As we moved it began snowing blood. The flowers disappeared and the ground got damp. A musty odor filled the area. The walls, once infinitely far away, contracted to form some kind of translucent large tunnel. Occasionally we could see eyes watching us from the other side. The pipe led to a chamber full of bodies, and every one of them was Scorch. They were all dressed in ancient robes, probably Suloise.

_Scorch was more mind than substance as he floated with the hacked up bits of his body into the chamber. 

“You need to chose,” said Emperor Zinkman ad Zol. 

“Choose what?” Scorch asked, eager to please his master.

“Choose a new clone, fool.” The emperor was losing patience but he needed Scorch for his plans. “The one you had was damaged. You were careless.”

“But I liked the whole missing-eye look,” Scorch pouted, ignoring the fact that intestines were hanging out of the body he accompanied.

Scorch floated around a bit and surveyed the choices. They were all inarguably him, but varied slightly in age or appearance. He settled on one that was fairly close to his old body._​There were at least thirty Scorch’s. But we quickly realized only one was missing an eye. We go to that body and Dravot was quite sure it was completely dead. No simple healing would restore this form. As we examined it, another one of the bodies suddenly coughed and came to life. The new Scorch came over to his old body. Any doubt that it was truly Scorch was removed when he started taking his stuff from his old body before anything else.

Nobody asked why there were thirty-some-odd Scorch’s in this chamber. Nobody knew how. And nobody wanted to know what the explanation might be. Instead we identified another passage out the other side of the chamber, and quietly moved towards it.

This tunnel was more translucent and we could see freakish organs and sentient beings floating in the suspension outside the walls. They tried to communicate but their words made no sense to us. It led us to another very large chamber. Inside there was no dragon but there were perhaps a hundred distinct beings floating about. Most were awake and looking at us. At the center was a human of Sule descent, his face overed in horrible scars. Surrounding his throat and limbs were strange organisms holding him in place. Other small parasites floated around the room feeding off the captives who could not pull them off. They absorbed some kind of energy until their tails lit up, then they scurried off.

The human spoke. “Excellent. I am Zinkman ad Zol. I welcome you. You will help me start the Empire anew. Especially you, Slerotin. I knew your clones would not fail.”


----------



## dravot

Some asides:

Looking up the strings triggered a Will save DC 40.  Fail and lose a point of wisdom.  Gah.

Everytime the name Zinkman was mentioned, all I could think of was Ghostbusters and Dr. Peter Venkman.  "You don't know what it's like on the Prime.  I do.  They expect results!"

I was sooo close to leaving Kayleigh behind and trying to get the rest of us inside the creature, but unsupervised I figured she'd wind up making out with Fraz, and that'd just be wrong.

Roleplaying with Scorch was rather hard to do (although Scorch did a great job).  In the meta, we knew he'd been _dominated_, but in character all we knew was that he was acting funny.  I personally had a tough time finding the sweet spot in which I felt that my character had enough info for interfering with Scorch.  Even now, I'm not sure that I acted properly.


----------



## Sandain

You are an Evil man Wizardru.  Inflicting your party with ancient insane Suel emporers, faulty clones, and giant retrievers!


----------



## dravot

Sandain said:
			
		

> You are an Evil man Wizardru.  Inflicting your party with ancient insane Suel emporers, faulty clones, and giant retrievers!



Quite frankly, I'm afraid to learn how long ago WizarDru came up with this idea.  Bad, bad, evil man.


----------



## LordVyreth

dravot said:
			
		

> Quite frankly, I'm afraid to learn how long ago WizarDru came up with this idea.  Bad, bad, evil man.




Heh, do you want to tell him, Sandain, or should I?


----------



## Argent Silvermage

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Heh, do you want to tell him, Sandain, or should I?



Why do they taunt us like this! 

BTW... I shocked everyone by casting Magic missile during the game. My breath weapons were doing nothing and so I decided to use a magic item i had been keeping for ages. It's a ioun stone that stores spells. A long time ago I had Scorch cast Magic Missile, True Strike and ? something else into it but never really planned to use it. I figured what the heck. You should have scene the faces in the room. I almost wet myself.


----------



## dravot

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Heh, do you want to tell him, Sandain, or should I?



You mock me, sir.

Ding!  I hit level 24 this past session.  I'm looking at epic feats.  IMO, the epic feats for clerics in the ELH are the suck (or Dravot doesn't qualify for them right now).  There are a couple on the WotC site that are promising though.

I'll prolly go with Epic Combat Casting.


----------



## Seule

Have you looked into Shielded Casting from Races of Stone?  Similar effect, different requirements.  Plus, it's not Epic.  I can't remember exactly what the Epic feat does, but I'd compare the two before choosing.

  --Seule


----------



## dravot

Seule said:
			
		

> Have you looked into Shielded Casting from Races of Stone?  Similar effect, different requirements.  Plus, it's not Epic.  I can't remember exactly what the Epic feat does, but I'd compare the two before choosing.
> 
> --Seule



I don't have that book, so I'm not familiar with it.  The epic feat means that Dravot won't take AoOs when casting a spell in a threatened space.  Right now, he has to make a pretty easy concentration check (24 for a 9th level spell, with a +33 for his concentration roll), so in it almost seems like a wasted feat, but if there's ever a situation where there's negative modifiers, I'll be covered.

And 'plus, it's not epic' doesn't really help at this point.  Taking a non-epic feat is a waste of an opportunity (unless it's a qualifier for a different epic feat).


----------



## Seule

Well, Shielded Casting means you don't provoke AoOs for casting as long as you have a shield.  The Epic feat appears better, but not having the text handy I was thinking it might just provide a hefty bonus, like Epic Skill Focus does.
Obviously, under the circumstances, Epic Combat Casting is the way to go.
Personally, if you have any Metamagic feats, I'm a big fan of picking up higher level slots.  Heck, even if you don't, you can always use them for more 9th level spells.

  --Seule


----------



## WizarDru

dravot said:
			
		

> You mock me, sir.
> 
> Ding! I hit level 24 this past session. I'm looking at epic feats. IMO, the epic feats for clerics in the ELH are the suck (or Dravot doesn't qualify for them right now). There are a couple on the WotC site that are promising though.
> 
> I'll prolly go with Epic Combat Casting.




He does, indeed.  However, unlike Chavram's little secret (which I managed not to reveal for over two years), the truth of Scorch's origins was merely a good fit, suggested by our humble readership quite recently.  I had a different idea for Scorch originally, but this fit events and the game so much better, that I ran with it.  I had always intended to link Scorch to the ancient Suloise Empire by virtue of blood....this just made more sense, and was more fun. 

Other possible feat selections?

From Races of Stone: Divine Spellshield - Spend a turning check to give a +2 Sacred bonus to saves against spells to all your allies within 30 feet.

Shielded Casting allows you to cast a spell without incurring an AoO, but only while holding a shield.

From Complete Divine: Quicken Turning - You can make a turn check as a free action.

Spell Focus (Good, Evil, Chaos, Law): clerical spell focus, basically.
Glorious Weapons: Use a Turn Check to grant any allied weapon with 60' the Good or Evil alignment.

There is also is the Divine Spell Power feat, which appears to be exactly the same as the Spellchanneling feat, from what I can tell.


Epic Level spellcasting is....tricky.  I still haven't figured out what to do about it, yet.


----------



## dravot

WizarDru said:
			
		

> He does, indeed.  However, unlike Chavram's little secret (which I managed not to reveal for over two years), the truth of Scorch's origins was merely a good fit, suggested by our humble readership quite recently.  I had a different idea for Scorch originally, but this fit events and the game so much better, that I ran with it.  I had always intended to link Scorch to the ancient Suloise Empire by virtue of blood....this just made more sense, and was more fun.




Oooh.  That's mean.



			
				WizarDru said:
			
		

> Other possible feat selections?
> 
> From Races of Stone: Divine Spellshield - Spend a turning check to give a +2 Sacred bonus to saves against spells to all your allies within 30 feet.
> 
> Shielded Casting allows you to cast a spell without incurring an AoO, but only while holding a shield.
> 
> From Complete Divine: Quicken Turning - You can make a turn check as a free action.
> 
> Spell Focus (Good, Evil, Chaos, Law): clerical spell focus, basically.
> Glorious Weapons: Use a Turn Check to grant any allied weapon with 60' the Good or Evil alignment.
> 
> There is also is the Divine Spell Power feat, which appears to be exactly the same as the Spellchanneling feat, from what I can tell.
> 
> Epic Level spellcasting is....tricky.  I still haven't figured out what to do about it, yet.



You almost shot coke through your nose when I tried to suggest Spellchannelling 

I'll poke around Complete Divine tonight, and BoED as well.  We shall see.

I'd love for epic spellcasting to work as advertised, but until we decide how to make it work, the point is moot.


----------



## LordVyreth

Why not just use the same "epic caster" feats arcane casters usually dash for at epic?  You know, getting 10th+ level spells, permanent metamagic on spells, some of the biggee metamagic feats.  You might even convince Wizardru to extend 3.5 feat concepts to create Sudden Intensify Spell!

...Okay, that's not too likely.  But worth asking!  

I don't have the ELH with me at the moment, so I don't know all the prereqs, but I remember a few decent cleric feats in the book.  What about extra domains, spontenous domain casting, or that one that lets you turn outsiders?


----------



## LordVyreth

And for the record, it sounds like all the big nasty stuff this time was not my fault.  I just supplied last game's cannon fodder so far.  The other fun came from other helpful contributors!


----------



## dravot

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Why not just use the same "epic caster" feats arcane casters usually dash for at epic?  You know, getting 10th+ level spells, permanent metamagic on spells, some of the biggee metamagic feats.  You might even convince Wizardru to extend 3.5 feat concepts to create Sudden Intensify Spell!
> 
> ...Okay, that's not too likely.  But worth asking!
> 
> I don't have the ELH with me at the moment, so I don't know all the prereqs, but I remember a few decent cleric feats in the book.  What about extra domains, spontenous domain casting, or that one that lets you turn outsiders?



1) I have 4 domains already.  How many do you want me to have?   
2) I can already turn outsiders (I have that feat)
3) Spontaneous domain isn't available until 27th level (needing 30 ranks of spellcraft)  

Hence my quandry.


----------



## Sandain

*hums and looks around innocently*

Well, I may have had a small contribution with regards to Zinkman, Slerotin, and the Clones.  Only small though.  And I NEVER intended for Wizardru to take my ideas seriously.  Its all his fault really.  

Lord Vyreth and Jester are the ones you should be hating on.  They are feeding Wizardru's sick addiction for nasty monsters.  There should be some kind of rehab program for RBDM's.

It would go something like this....

PirateCate: We have a new member today, his name is Wizardru.  Why dont you tell us about yourself Wizardru?

Wizardru: Hi....im a bit nervous...oh well here goes... I am a    a   a   RBDM!  and I have been tormenting my group for many years now.  Im addicted.  Hopelessly addicted to screwing with them in every way I can. I just cant help myself.

(Contact), Sagiro, Jester; Its alright, your among other RBDM's now, we can help each other...


----------



## WizarDru

Well, Kevin is the King of Rat Bastardry....we kneel before his true evil.  That poor goblin...that poor goblin...



			
				dravot said:
			
		

> You almost shot coke through your nose when I tried to suggest Spellchannelling.




Well, that was before I understood it:  I thought it increased your level much more than just -2 to +2.  I'm also thinking doing something custom to start offering you guys, instead of the set 'math' feats.  But such things may come with a price....


----------



## Scorch

*Game tonight!*

Looks like all is go for the game tonight.

Someone has some hash and it needs to be settled.

Scorch


----------



## thatdarncat

We're gaming tonight and tomorrow. It's going to be a marathon "how many pcs can I kill in one weekend" kinda thing. 

Here's hoping WizarDru doesn't have something similar planned


----------



## Salthorae

There is a feat in the Complete Divine that gives spontaneous domain casting for one of your domains, but it's not epic...


----------



## dravot

I wound up taking Ignore Material Component.  Free _True Resurrection_ for everyone, on me!

(looks at Bolo)


----------



## Argent Silvermage

(Bolo Looks back.) Um.... Put that thing away. I'm not that kind of Jan.


----------



## dravot

Now that was one of the weirdest combats I've ever seen.

Far Realms Haggis anyone?

Uh oh.
edit: By the short and curly hairs of Pelor, I never thought we'd see one of ... those.  We are soooo screwed.


----------



## cmnash

Having just finished 15 pages of Kobold-luvin goodness I just want to say how impressed I am with the superb campaign and journals here ... I just wish my Players would contribute as much as these guys seem to   



			
				dravot said:
			
		

> Now that was one of the weirdest combats I've ever seen.
> 
> Far Realms Haggis anyone?
> 
> Uh oh.
> edit: By the short and curly hairs of Pelor, I never thought we'd see one of ... those.  We are soooo screwed.




Tentacular Haggis!? I'd hate to see the sheep that came from!   

Update please!


----------



## Argent Silvermage

THE HORROR! THE HORROR! (yeah... the caps are needed.) The Revolution!
Scorch has unleashed upon us something even worse than anything found in the Book of vile Darkness. 

Did I mention THE HORROR!?!


----------



## Valanthe the Sleepless

And don't forget... we can all thank *Blackdirge* for that, that _thing_.

http://www.enworld.org/article.php?a=111


----------



## Zad

*Fire in the Blood - Chapter 5*

*Fire in the Blood – Chapter 5*

OOC Notes:
Exp is 5600 (everyone is 24)

Loot:
And you thought this whole adventure would go by without any
+4 sonic warding shield
+5 arrow catching full plate
staff of winter

This Week’s Adventure:
“Slerotin, you and the others will release me now.” Zinkman seemed confident but impatient.

I took a quick look at my companions. “Hm. No.”

He didn’t seem perturbed. “You pretend there is a choice. But go now. Go see the dragon, but without… Scorch, was it? Is that your name in this form? He will remain with me.”

Scorch was still fussing about his new body and the return of depth perception that comes with having two eyes. Zinkman’s patience wore thin and with a single claw-like gesture, ripped out Scorch’s new eye.

Scorch of course collapsed in pain and Dravot saw to him. 

“Was that necessary?” he asked.

Zinkman did not answer.

Since we had been presented with a way to leave his immediate area, I was anxious to take it, but not at the cost of leaving Scorch behind. “Emperor, we may need Scorch to free the dragon. Surely your control over him is absolute so there is no risk in allowing him to aid us.”

Zinkman scowled at me. “I am not used to being questioned.”

I shrugged. “You are not used to dealing with us.”

His lip curled. “Fine. I have his eye – I can recreate the body if needed. Fetch the beast. I shall wait patiently until you return”

But while he spoke there was churning in the belly of this beast. Before we could leave, part of the intestinal wall separated from the stomach. Five eyes on long tentacles eyed us and a toothy maw formed, gnashing at us.

Never has something been so determined to digest us. This must be what it’s like to be Bolo.

I opened fire, and a volley of spellcraft followed. Soon the creature was injured and bleeding acid, burned, frozen, and seething with negative energy. The creature retaliated and the acid was also a powerful venom which I wasn’t quick enough to avoid. Two more spells and it was weakened and blinded as well and flailing wildly. We wasted no time hacking it apart. 

The stomach walls constricted around the seeping wound and small creatures started throwing up skin, repairing the damage. 

We moved on to the next chamber which was larger than seemed possible to exist in this creature. The Silverring was there, wrapped in a cocoon of skin. Around him swam small creature. They were hard to see and more of an absence than a presence. Oddly there were two silver cords coming out of the Silverring. 

Aethramyr cut at the skin holding the dragon. One of the non-creatures swam over to repair the hole. Bolo used an anti-life shell to repel them, and it was very effective. But it also irritated them. First one, then two, then more and more creatures threw themselves at the shell but were thrown back. After a futile effort, dozens of them congregated in a corner of the room, swarming around each other and collapsing together.

Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. We cut the Silverring free and he started to blink. He rasped “Get Zinkman. Must bring him out…” but that was all the energy he had.

The non-creatures had all collapsed in on each other and formed a small black sphere. When it was complete, the umbral blot started floating towards us.

We needed to move the Silverring but he was too big to pick up. I had a thought and just decided that he was much smaller. The Far Realms was proving to be a subjective place and I was hoping that a change in my perspective would let us pick him up. And it worked… but only partially. He was much smaller but nowhere near small enough to move. Valanthe on the other hand had a more… malleable view of the truth and had no problems re-aligning things to make him the size of a pseudo-dragon. We grabbed him and started running.

The creature released a stormy vortex at us, and rocked us about the chamber. I wasn’t sure what we could even do to “hurt” this thing or how far it would pursue us. Both questioned turned out to be irrelevant.

Over our heads, a hellish ball of energy streaked down the hall and buried itself in the blot. The explosion was muffled but the blot was shattered back into the small non-creatures that had started all this. After a moment, they began swimming about their business again and we moved back up the hall.

Zinkman was facing us now, having rotated the entire chamber. He was waiting. Patiently.

We tried to bring the Silverring around but his injuries were not something easily treated. He would require time to revitalize himself, and we had little. Bolo tried to use the scale to get through to him but instead was treated to a series of flashing images.

…war with the drow
…construction of the binders
…the far realms
…a huge abyssal creature, part demon, part gorilla…Fraz’s true form?
…Fraz binds the Silverring and funnels energy through the hole
…the gith queen lording over the dragon
…being stolen and sealed into this creature

Zinkman spoke, “Release me.”

Aethramyr said “And why would we do that?”

“The binders have a failsafe. Without me, you cannot destroy the binders permanently. Do you think you destroyed those binders?”

“Well… yes,” we answered.

Zinkman started rambling. “The djinn fools have served their purpose. I do not need their distraction any more.” He went on about his old empire, his new empire, and other things I didn’t really listen to.

Zinkman turned on Scorch again. “You see, I found Slerotin’s stash of clones. I modified them. You’re one of the few that survived. Regretable really. As far as I can tell, you’ve regressed back to your original host. I wonder… were you a foundling? Your parents?”

Scorch shrugged. “They said they were my parents.”

“Yes, well they would I suppose, wouldn’t they. What with the powerful charms I placed on you.”

Aethramyr and I turned our attention to the Silverring and eventually got through to him.  “We must bring him out,” he said. “We can destroy all the binders at once with his help. He needs to come out.”

Aethramyr and I turned to each other and sighed.

“Fine,” I said to the lost emperor. “We’re convinced. Let’s go.”

“Oh leaving is not the problem,” he said. “It’s getting past the guardians. That thing disguised as Fraz. It serves Juiblex, the Faceless Lord. It’s not Fraz really of course. If it was simple I wouldn’t still be here would I?”

“Well we’ll deal with that then I suppose. But what do we do to get out of this place?”

Zinkman offered his wisdom like mana from heaven. “We need to reverse your stories.”

Zinkman watched us closely after that, ready to be amused at our attempts to examine his riddle or to beg him for more answers. I thought about it a moment, then took out my journal.

And ripped out three pages. 

As I tore them, the ink floated free of the page, and faded back into me. There was no sensation, but the story was undone. I still remembered the events, but would need to write them down again. And with it I instinctively knew the way out.

Zinkman seemed somehow depressed.

As we moved towards the “exit”, the small planetoid with Fraz suddenly zoomed over. “What’s this now? And where would you be going?”

I snorted. “Oh be quiet. You’re not even Fraz.”

“I am too Fraz!” it protested. But in doing so, it began melting. Fraz’s flesh merged with the planetoid, and the whole thing became some kind of psuedonatural anemone. Parts of Fraz still flowed in the being like they were melted into wax. 

Zinkman muttered “Ah. Glurgeg.”

And the battle was on once again. There was an initial exchange of spells and arrows. But it all stopped quickly enough. Scorch pulled out something that, I have no doubt, he’d been holding on to for a long time.

He cast his spell. The magic washed over Glurgeg. And Glurgeg stopped frozen for a moment.

A tentacle wavered. Then another. Then more. And Glurged…danced.

Music came from nowhere in particular, and Glurgeg danced about, swaying and bouncing. It was unable to do anything but dance to the music. And Scorch looked infinitely pleased with himself. And then he started dancing too, though it must be said not as well as Glurgeg.

[Any reader wishing to be in the right frame of mind might care to visit http://www.ebaumsworld.com/numanuma.html ]

To our credit we only wasted time on a few short giggles before laying into Glurgeg with our full might. And the demon could do nothing but eventually succumb to our attacks with Scorch dancing along all the while.

[For the reader: Aethramyr chose this moment to unleash his full fury. He did five attacks, with four smite-evil’s. Regretably the first one missed, and Glurgeg is immune to critical hits or it would have been notably messier. But the one-aciton damage total was 427. Jello shots for everybody.]

Glurgeg flew into pieces, and even the pieces kept on jiggling and dancing for several seconds. 

Zinkman was not unimpressed. “Slerotin. You’re…profane. I mean more than you were.”

With the guardian out of the way, we were able to navigate our way out without much further difficulty. We arrived on the Prime in a humid jungle. Moments later, two Judges arrived as well.

“Not again,” I thought.

“What’s this? These are new. Will they serve me? Are they fallen? They are turned so much more easily.” Zinkman said, curious.

“No, they serve a new divinity,” I said, hoping to avoid a mess. No luck.

The Judges moved towards Zinkman, and he moved his hand absently and the Judges were thrown back and ejected from the plane. At least they weren’t destroyed.

This would get ugly unless we could get him under control quickly. “Your Grace,” I said, “you have been away for a long time. And surely one as wise as you would wish to learn what things have changed in your absence before you risk angering a new divinity.”

Zinkman looked at me and pondered it for a moment. “For an elf, you speak wisdom. Very well.”

Aethramyr, Valanthe and I went to the Lendores to meet up with the Silverring, while Bolo, Dravot and Scorch took Zinkman to Ruun Khazai. (And frankly I had to suppress a smirk at that.)

Zinkman was brought to the no-scry area of the library. He demanded that Scorch wish the area was more palacial. But Scorch didn’t quite seem to understand what he was being told to do. It took a few tries and Zinkman was quite irate with him by the time he finally enchanted the area to be more fitting. He demanded food and said he would consider any attractive females. 

Once he was settled, Dravot took a chance. He called on Pelor’s might, and asked that Scorch be immune to domination, fearing his mind was no longer his own. On the other side of Ruun Khazai, Scorch’s head snapped up suddenly, freed of Zinkman’s compulsion. He immediately summoned the leaders of the various Ruun Khazai communities and told them to begin an evacuation.

In the Lendores, we found the Silverring, in elven guise, at the entrance to his lair waiting for us. 

“How are you?” Aethramyr asked.

“I am… recovering. My thanks to you for that and for my rescue. I owe you much even as Gelban does.”

“Fraz has trapped your lair. You should be careful,” Valanthe’s voice, and Valanthe appeared out of nowhere. 

The Silvering was mildly startled. I told him “You get used to it.”

“I am not used to being… surprised. I have dealt with the trap, thanks to your warning. It would have moved the entire lair to the Abyss.”

“But why?” Valanthe asked.

“Fraz is…having problems with himself. He is suffering from self-delusion – the ultimate lie. He is broken into separate personalities. So he is doing things that are not in his best interests. That creature you defeated was a servant of Juilbex, but those two would never willingly cooperate, at least if Fraz was in his right mind. My suspiciou is that a good deal of what Fraz has been doing is due to his two distinct personalities. You have encountered one, but meddled in the plans of the other. The gith queen was given power in exchange for transmitting souls to the Far Realms. Fraz wants to become a diety of the Far Realms. Or at least part of him does.”

“He can have it as far as I’m concerned. This journey was most disturbing,” I said.

“The Far Realms are necessary, if confusing and disturbing. It is an unconscious repository of the collective souls of the great wheel – the font of creation. It cannot be allowed to be dominated.”

“Well in any case,” Aethramyr said, “the Gith Queen is hardly much of an issue now.”

“What do you mean? She is a compelling threat, if a pawn in all this.”

Aethramyr, Valanthe and I exchanged smiles between us, realizing the timing. “I apologize,” I said. “You have been asleep for some time. There are some developments you should be aware of.”

An eyebrow arched on the dragon’s elven form.

Aethramyr and Valanthe went to Ruun Khazai, having been called in by Scorch to marshal the locals, while I explained a few things to the Silverring over wine.

“When last we spoke, we were bracing to face the ShadowTaker. We found his lair, and destroyed him. It wasn’t simple of course, and I suspect that some other entity prepared his demise at our hand, but he is destroyed nonetheless. We narrowly escaped the collapsing demi-plane to the Plane of Shadow to find some difficulties in planar travel. From there we went to Sigil and learned that the Githyanki had attacked the Prime especially Celene.”

The Silverring just nodded.

“Of course we returned immediately to the Prime. Lord Gelban informed us that Aran’gel and his contingent was under attack by a githyanki force and we arrived just in time to destroy them. From there we regrouped, located one of the main githyanki bases on the Prime, and destroyed it and the six hundred or so troops there. From there, we were contacted by a rebel gith element and they facilitated our infiltration into the Palace of Whispers in Tu’narath. We assaulted the palace, found the lich queen and destroyed her. And in the process broke the alliance with the red dragons.”

The old dragon stopped me. “Are you saying that since I slept, you have destroyed both the ShadowTaker and the Lich Queen?”

I looked back at him over my glass. “Well, that was a very good week for us.”

The Silverring laughed. Then he stopped when he realized I wasn’t joking. I grinned.

“Unfortunately things were still getting out of control. The planar travel injunction was still around and forces from Rauxes were on the move and have smashed Kalstrand in the Great Kingdom. We made an attack on Rauxes but it seemed unstoppable, and the undead in Kalstrand were flooding it to perhaps release the Primal there. And there was a schism in the celestial hosts of Pelor. The situation triggered by Fraz with Orcus as his agent continued to escalate until a full blown war erupted. Celestial and demon fought on the Prime and the world was quite near ending. But a new element came into play – Ralishaz. The ancient Sule god we had freed had collected himself somehow with in Venn – the mage who held a theerpart. Ralishaz struck a bargain with the divinity – he became a god of the Prime and would be charged with keeping the Prime safe from blatant outside interference. Extraplanar creatures are now removed by Ralishaz’s host of celestials – the ones who rebelled from Pelor’s host. There are some new rules in effect which you will need to know.”

The Silverring was struck dumb.

“Oh somewhere in there we also managed to destroy two more binders. Illusion and Transmutation are now destroyed. Then we got wind of a large meeting of underdark forces that Chavram was putting together near the Deathvent. We crashed the meeting to find it was a set-up and Chavram orchestrated our arrival. He has made some kind of play to take over the underdark but we cannot judge his success.”

“From there we took some time to work on a few projects and then decided it was time to find out what had happened to you. And here we are, still in time for dinner.” I had learned only 20 minutes had passed on the Prime since our departure to the Far Realms.

I concluded, “There’s more details of course but that’s the broad strokes.”

“Much has happened. I am surprised by much of this, but more for the speed than the events themselves. I had not expected you all to be up to such challenges yet. This changes much. I need some time to reflect on these events before we can put a plan in motion. With Zinkman, we have the key. We can, for once, go on the offensive. He is insane, yes. But he has a brilliant arcane mind and comprehends both the binders and the locks that hold Therizdun. The divinities sealed him in but did not impart the understanding to the mortal races. With him, we can do much.”

“Well,” I agreed “he is insane. But he has been taken to Ruun Khazai for now. Hopefully he can be kept distracted for a time while you ponder a path forward. The Judges will not be pleased but I fear there is little they can do.” 

And with that I left the Silverring to think and rest. But that subject did bring up another pressing matter. A few messages later and I was standing in the presence of Meltorannan.

“Thank you for seeing me. I appreciate your time,” I said.

“This is about the new outsider I presume? The one who banished two of mine?” he asked, impassive.

“It is. He is Zinkman ad Zol, former emperor of the Sule. This is of little interest to the law, I know but I tell you anyway. He is very powerful. I do not relish his presence here, indeed I fear it greatly. But for the time being, he is needed to thwart greater evils such as the Shadow King.”

“Regardless, we cannot ignore his presence due to that,” Meltorannan replied.

“I know. But I believe you must ignore his presence for another reason – I believe he is too powerful for you to remove. This is why I wished to speak to you – I have no wish to see suffering befall your kind and that is what I fear would come of assaulting him.”

“You are correct. For the time being, his presence will be tolerated. We shall look the other way but only if you make efforts to keep him from our sight. For now, Ruun Khazai is something we ignore, but should he remain too long that protection will no longer be afforded.” Beneath the impassivity of a judge, I detected a hint of understanding and compassion. Maybe there was even a bit of thanks for avoiding the confrontation.

“I understand. We must all do what we must.”

Again there was the glimmer of the solar of Pelor when he said “You serve your Lord well, Kayleigh.”

I smiled back. “As do you.”


----------



## BLACKDIRGE

Valanthe the Sleepless said:
			
		

> And don't forget... we can all thank *Blackdirge* for that, that _thing_.
> 
> http://www.enworld.org/article.php?a=111




I have no idea what you're talking about.

Nope, none at all.


----------



## LordVyreth

Eh, you got off easy.  At your level, you could've taken out Blackdirge's latest creation plus some friends, but Dru didn't use my other contributions.


----------



## Greybar

*Summary on binders*

Whew, okay I have failed in my memory or in my fandom (or both).
Can someone give me a summary of the binders and which are located/destroyed/etc?  I seem to remember that 1-3-9 were the critical ones and were destroyed in the first big event in the binder-locater-place, but I don't remember which schools they were.


----------



## dravot

Greybar said:
			
		

> Whew, okay I have failed in my memory or in my fandom (or both).
> Can someone give me a summary of the binders and which are located/destroyed/etc?  I seem to remember that 1-3-9 were the critical ones and were destroyed in the first big event in the binder-locater-place, but I don't remember which schools they were.



The first one we destroyed was the Evocation binder.  At the moment I can't recall the other two, nor do I have time to look it up.


----------



## Zad

Current status of the binders (to the best of our knowledge):

1. The greater binder of Divination (Prince Uufhez ben Daman): Last information said the binder was within Celene's borders. Kayleigh knows the binder to be in the custody of the Queen, under the palace. There are wards limiting it's use. 

2. The lesser binder of Abjuration (Prince Hehua Balroz): Just from memory I think we suspect this binder is currently in Chavram's custody.

3. The lesser binder of Necromancy (unknown): Latest information is that Chavram controls this binder.

4. The lesser binder of Enchantment (unknown): Chavram attempted to obtain this binder but failed - someone else got there first. The identity of this player is unknown to the party.

5. The greater binder of Evocation (Prince Sumez ben Taal, the liar-liar-pants-on-fire): This binder was used as damaged but used as part of a binding holding Ralishaz, Sule god of chance, asleep. This was the first binder the party destroyed while romping in the lost githyanki fortress of Ruun Khazai on the Astral.

6. The lesser binder of Conjuration (unknown): The conjuration binder is currently in Rauxes. Chavram tried to obtain it but was unable to take possession.

7. The lesser binder of Transmutation (Prince Tupal ben Baharol): This binder was moved from its original location and secured in a stone temple deep under the Nyr Dyv. The party located the binder and brought it out. It was destroyed by Pelor shortly thereafter.

8. The lesser binder of Illusion (Prince Farhud ibn Auda): Chavram placed this binder in the skull of one of Dravot's brothers before releasing him to the party. The group was able, with help, to extract the binder from his head. They took the binder to the Great Map, and there destroyed it. This is the first time that they personally destroyed an intact binder.

9. The greater binder of Magic (Prince Ali ben Yalla): This and the first binder are the most powerful binders. It was located under Brindinford by Chavram and is currently in his control. It is believed to be the first binder he located.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

It appears we're on a bit of a hiatis. Expect a Bolo story soon.


----------



## WizarDru

And here it is:

*Olob and the Terrible Twin*

Once upon a time, there was a little fellow named Olob.

Olob was known far and wide as a druid of great power...in that he could take the form of many beasts.  He was most proud of his giant Abyssal Myconid form, though he often found the need to change into a Axiomatic Rast (actual size) in his many journeys.  Few dared question the need for him to assume the form of a half-troll Yrthak...but that was mostly because virtually no one had any idea what an Yrthak was.  Many assumed it was a Yeth Hound, but only because they'd never seen one of those, either.  And they both started with Y, which meant they were probably similar.  Or not.

Regarldess, Olob was commonly known as a friend to all Elementals, and would often summon them to the prime merely to enjoy their company, and drinking fine teas and eating pleasant little cakes.  Often, an elemental Prince might just pop by for no reason at all other than to pass the day...and if a forest was destroyed by fire, flood, hurricane or landslide...well, Olob would fix it eventually.  Maybe.  If he remembered.

Then one day Olob purchased a mirror.  A special mirror.  It was shiny and well-made, and made Olob look...well, it must be said that it made him look Dead Sexy.  It highlighted his wonderful goatee...or was it a Van Dyke?  He never was sure.  All of his friends, like Opeem, Tovard and Hcrocs (he was from the southlands, which is why his name sounded like a hacking cough) agreed that he was one stunning halfing.  Elf.  Bariuar.  Something.  Regardless, he looked Marvelous, and even Hgielyak (stupid Elf eskimo names!) couldn't fault that.

But one day, Olob saw something disturbing in the mirror.  It was a hateful, evil version of himself.  Even worse, this unshaven roustabout hated MIRRORS!  He was destroying them, willy-nilly, using a terrible horn!  Olob knew what he had to do, and marched through the mirror (because that's simply how these things work, as everyone knows).  

He confronted the evil...evil....Bolo person in magical combat!  The evil Bolo cast some terrible spell that spewed elemental energy everywhere, but Olob was not prone to such folly.  He unleased his mightiest spell back at Bolo, but too late realized that evil Bolo had tricked him into fighting in such a tiny room, and his own lighting storm spared Bolo and destroyed poor Olob forever.

The End.

It is a sad story.  
Shed a tear for poor Olob, won't you?


----------



## Argent Silvermage

I just wet myself!


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

I'm not wet, but it was funny.  Mirror of opposition?

GW


----------



## LordVyreth

Graywolf-ELM said:
			
		

> I'm not wet, but it was funny.  Mirror of opposition?
> 
> GW




Sounds more like the Plane of Mirrors from Manual of the Planes.  You visit it, and a homocidal reverse version of yourself pops in to try and kill you.

You know, when I first started reading this, I thought that Bolo himself was created by a Mirror of Opposition, which would've been another cautionary tale about how you write your own back story before the DM does it for you!  Yes, I'm looking at you, Scorch!   

So what's the hiatus for?  How long will it be?


----------



## Zad

This is a fine example of how perspective makes all the difference.


If you want a different version of the story, go back to when the party adventured through the crypt of the ShadowTaker and encountered a certain mirror...


----------



## Spatzimaus

I forget if anyone's mentioned it yet, but it looks like part 7 of "Shadows Rise and Shadows Fall" was accidentally deleted.  It would have been dated 11/17/03 or so.


----------



## Zad

It's possible that it's misnumbered and only looks missing. Unfortunately I'm swamped at work but I'll check it when I get a chance.


----------



## dravot

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Sounds more like the Plane of Mirrors from Manual of the Planes.  You visit it, and a homocidal reverse version of yourself pops in to try and kill you.
> 
> You know, when I first started reading this, I thought that Bolo himself was created by a Mirror of Opposition, which would've been another cautionary tale about how you write your own back story before the DM does it for you!  Yes, I'm looking at you, Scorch!
> 
> So what's the hiatus for?  How long will it be?



It's for a variety of things: scheduling chiefly among them.  Several people have to work this weekend, or will be away next weekend.  WizarDru is also working on a side project that needs some full-time attention.  In the meantime, we'll play our beta-campaign, Lost City of Barakus.


----------



## WizarDru

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> So what's the hiatus for?  How long will it be?




At this point, I'm not sure.  Half of the group will be working like dogs this weekend, and I've basically begged off DMing for a short period, so I can devote my full attention to this project (which I've let languish for months, for a variety of reasons).  I don't expect it to be too long, regardless.  I don't think the Meepites could stand another big gap...especially when I live with one of them.


----------



## kikai

I couldn't load the first page of this thread. Is it just me, or couldn't you either?

Regards, 

kikai!


----------



## Len

The server is having problems with really long pages. It works if you ask it to show fewer comments per page. Here's a link that works: http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=99&page=1&pp=20


----------



## kikai

Len said:
			
		

> The server is having problems with really long pages. It works if you ask it to show fewer comments per page. Here's a link that works: http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=99&page=1&pp=20




Thank you, that works   

Will this be fixed, or is it possible to "default" this display-mode?

Regards, 

kikai!


----------



## Len

You can change the default number of posts per page in your user settings. I think if you set that to 20 it'll fix the problem or at least make it happen less often.

There's a thread in Meta about this problem.


----------



## Zad

Yeah the same problem was biting me when I was trying to load the first page to alter the subject line. I have a bookmark to use in the meantime til it's fixed.


----------



## LordVyreth

So, any word on how much longer the hiatus will take?  Also, Dru, you need to let us in the Rogue's gallery know what you're planning now that you had a few weeks to plan.  I had some new monster ideas to add to the mix this weekend, but know what direction you guys are going in will help.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> So, any word on how much longer the hiatus will take?  Also, Dru, you need to let us in the Rogue's gallery know what you're planning now that you had a few weeks to plan.  I had some new monster ideas to add to the mix this weekend, but know what direction you guys are going in will help.



I have notified the admins about the above post. they will be sending the hunting Gnomes out to kill Vyreth ASAP.


----------



## WizarDru

Oh yeah, I'm sure he's livin' in fear of Stabby the Halfling and his Gnomish Posse.  

The short hiatus is nearing an end, as I get closer to finishing my project. Unfortunately, it tends to eat into my time for the game...coupled with being extremely busy at work the past two weeks leads to me not having posted on ENworld that often, as of late.

Fear not, I'll be posting plans for the Meepites' pain, soon enough.

Coming Soon:

Jonathan   
Weddings and other existential crises   
Zinkman Rising   
The Hopping Prophet   
The Mak on the March 
 Trust me.  You are getting sleepy...sleeeepy.....Poppies...Poppiessss........


----------



## dravot

You stay out of my wedding.  This is not Brindinford 90210.  *glare*

Tonight we continued our Beta campaign, while WizarDru is in hiatus and working on his project.  Beta is Lost City of Barakus, and we had much fun.  Spoiler free, we investigated a group of ne'er-do-wells and staged an impromptu raid upon them.  Much havoc ensued on both sides.  At one point, half the party was _enthralled_ by an enemy cleric, and at another point, WizarDru's sorceror was taken down to -2 HP.  He and I wound up running in circles around the building in opposite directions.  Web, sleep, ray of frost, color spray, magic missiles, hold person, enthrall and numerous buff and healing spells were cast.

Scorch built the site out of Hirst blocks, and it was a thing of beauty.


----------



## WizarDru

I took pictures, if folks are curious.


----------



## pogre

dravot said:
			
		

> Scorch built the site out of Hirst blocks, and it was a thing of beauty.






			
				WizarDru said:
			
		

> I took pictures, if folks are curious.




Ooo, ooo, me, me - I want to see!


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

Would a "me too" be out of place here?

GW

Me too.


----------



## WizarDru

Certainly wouldn't.  I'll have to see about getting the Pics off the camera and loading a couple up for viewing.  I'll also need to employ Valanthe's advanced super graphic powers to fix make up for my weak camera skillz.

It was a super-fun combat, for which Scorch should be duly proud.  (Note to self: when cowering on the floor before a Silver Golem..._go on ALL OUT DEFENSE, don't shoot it._)


----------



## Len

WizarDru said:
			
		

> (Note to self: when cowering on the floor before a Silver Golem..._go on ALL OUT DEFENSE, don't shoot it._)



You mean shoot it with a composite bow with a huge Str bonus so you can get through the DR, right? Or shoot it while wearing Valanthe's golembane scarab (um, from the other campaign)?


----------



## WizarDru

No, I mean with a wand of magic missles that shoots a SINGLE MISSLE...at close range.

On the bright side, I did kill the thing with it.  Best 750 gp my gnomish sorceror ever spent.


----------



## Len

Well then, all's well that ends well. Unless it fell on you.


----------



## dravot

Our beta game (Barakus) continues during the Alpha hiatus.  We were faced with flesh golems the other night, and wisely backed off before they activated and came our way.

WizarDru and I were discussing the 3.5 golem's immunity to magic, and that for many of the golem types, they are vulnerable to one or two types of magic in a limited and specific manner.

That led to this brief conversation.

WizarDru: "Yeah, I assume that to be the intent.  Otherwise, it doesn't make any sense at all.  I think the change was made to make them MORE magic vulnerable, but only in very specific ways.  This removes their status as pure mage-killers, but at the same time means that the best way for the mage to defeat them is as part of a team.  I like that, as I do most 3.5 changes.

I also like donuts."

To which I replied:

"Heh.  'Immunity to snacks.  Exception: donuts.  If plied with donuts (no saving throw), the WizarDru becomes glassy eyed and lethargic for 2d6 rounds.'"


----------



## WizarDru

Ahhh. Krispy Kremes.............[mindless gurgling]


FYI: I've uploaded the pictures from Barakus to the PC. Tonight I'll enlist Valanthe's help, and we'll try and post a few. Those interested in what Scorch has been doing should peruse his Livejournal entries, at http://www.livejournal.com/users/gm_Scorch/


----------



## WizarDru

Sorry, didn't happen last night.  The Game Room at Castle Albright flooded in a very real and liquid sense, and that derailed all plans for any of last night's activities.


----------



## Len

Oh no! I hope the miniatures didn't drown.


----------



## thatdarncat

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Sorry, didn't happen last night.  The Game Room at Castle Albright flooded in a very real and liquid sense, and that derailed all plans for any of last night's activities.



 it's ok, we'll take pictures of that too, we're not picky


----------



## WizarDru

Well, here's a link to the Temple Assualt from Barakus.  More when I have some free time.  The basement wasn't damaged or badly flooded, but it was mostly due to Valanthe's swift efforts.

Anyway, here it is.


----------



## Len

WizarDru said:
			
		

> The basement wasn't damaged or badly flooded, but it was mostly due to Valanthe's swift efforts.



Because she had some Dust of Dryness in her pack?
(Check her equipment sheets. $10 says I'm right.)

Seriously, I'm glad to hear it was a minor wetting.


----------



## Scorch

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Those interested in what Scorch has been doing should peruse his Livejournal entries, at http://www.livejournal.com/users/gm_Scorch/




I posted the entire Arena project up to my Live Journal blog.  It is 20 pictures spread over two posts.

I will be posting my new cliff face project as I finish up the first piece.  I like how it is turning out.  

Rtrockel, a fellow blogger, post this link to a foam carving kit that I am seriously considering getting:

http://www.ares-server.com/Ares/Ares.asp?MerchantID=RET01229&Action=Catalog&Type=Product&ID=81622

Scorch out.


----------



## LordVyreth

Well, I got the Tholian reference now!  Pity I still have to watch the TOS version, though.

So, when can we expect more updates?


----------



## Scorch

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Well, I got the Tholian reference now!  Pity I still have to watch the TOS version, though.
> 
> So, when can we expect more updates?




We have not been playing the main campaign these last few months.  Instead we have been going through "The Lost City of Barakus" run by me for the rest of the regular gaming group. 

We just had a session last night.

Once WizarDru finishes his current writing project I think his batteries will be recharged enough to cause us more grief.  He has already been hinting at dark things to come for some of us.  I should get him a little box that makes a rumbling thunder noise and sends off flash of light whenever he says such things for dramatic effect.

Scorch


----------



## LordVyreth

Oh, I know about the hiatus.  I just heard from Wizardru (in the Monsters thread, which I definately did NOT contribute anything to in the months of downtime,) that he was almost done with his project, and that was a couple of weeks ago.  Has the first game past the hiatus been planned yet?


----------



## pogre

Scorch said:
			
		

> We have not been playing the main campaign these last few months.  Instead we have been going through "The Lost City of Barakus" run by me for the rest of the regular gaming group.




1st Any chance of an update to that story hour?

2nd Congrats on 60K views!


----------



## WizarDru

I've passed a major milestone on my project, and I'm thinking the hiatus will soon be over.  Things, however, have been very crazy for the last couple of months, which hasn't helped matters.  Look for a teaser post within the week, methinks.


----------



## WizarDru

Yeah, yeah...I know.  No teaser, yet.  What's a reader to do, right?

Well, if I were to make a humble suggestion, you could do much, much worse than reading Funeris' The Heroes of Marchford.  It takes place in the Valus, and none other than Destan himself DMs the game.  I mean, what more do you need, really?


----------



## pogre

WizarDru said:
			
		

> I mean, what more do you need, really?




Other than an update here, right?


----------



## Funeris

Hey WizarDru, your check is in the mail


----------



## Zad

We're scheduled to play this weekend. And Wizardru has talked of a teaser this week.


----------



## LordVyreth

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Yeah, yeah...I know.  No teaser, yet.  What's a reader to do, right?
> 
> Well, if I were to make a humble suggestion, you could do much, much worse than reading Funeris' The Heroes of Marchford.  It takes place in the Valus, and none other than Destan himself DMs the game.  I mean, what more do you need, really?




A plug for my Story Hour too would be nice.  

Oh, and more info in your Rogue's Gallery about what else you need from me.  It's been a few weeks now since my last contribution.


----------



## WizarDru

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> A plug for my Story Hour too would be nice.
> 
> Oh, and more info in your Rogue's Gallery about what else you need from me. It's been a few weeks now since my last contribution.




Well, I've got to finish reading it, don't I? 

Look for an update tomorrow, I'm afraid.  I just crossed the 60,000 word mark and I am tapped for the day.  The same applies for Rogue's Gallery requests...and don't worry, I have a few. We just can't discuss them here.


----------



## LordVyreth

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Well, I've got to finish reading it, don't I?
> 
> Look for an update tomorrow, I'm afraid.  I just crossed the 60,000 word mark and I am tapped for the day.  The same applies for Rogue's Gallery requests...and don't worry, I have a few. We just can't discuss them here.




Well, let me know what you need before this weekend, if possible.  My players just finished an major adventure themselves, so I need to work out the creatures for the next game.  Mine is an Epic, 22nd level game as well, so you understand it takes a while to write it all up.  In fact, maybe you could help me out.  I won't need ideas from you, but having a second set of eyes critique my work could help.  I would have a better idea of my stuff matches the desired CR, which is sometimes tricky for me as I tend to make some weird-ass monsters.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

I say you send 1st level bandits at the heros.  just that and nothing else. They'll love you for it.


----------



## WizarDru

You forgot to say untemplated 1st level bandits of single-hit dice stock.  Amateur.  You'll get your first level bandits, all right.


----------



## LordVyreth

He didn't mention the race of the banits, either.  One batch of abomination bandits, coming up!

Edit: Right, of single hit dice state.  That makes it trickier.  But I'm sure I can homebrew a race of 1 HD humanoids and CR 30 stats somehow!


----------



## dravot

It was great to get back to the Alpha campaign, like visiting old friends.  Lots of stuff is going on for sure.  Dravot's to-do list is a mile long.

Best line of the session: "I think we just applied the 'corpse template' to that guy."


----------



## Zad

No promises on how fast the update comes - work is messy today/this week. However to my fellow players I can say that the action will pick up from the Glitterhame so if you want to cover your own activities that were out of my POV, feel free to do so.


----------



## Zad

*A Fool's Errand - Chatper 1*

*A Fool's Errand – Chapter 1*

*OOC Notes:*

   Exp is 2300 for 23rd, 1600 for 24th, 1250 for 25th.

     A lot of catch-up work this session, and most of it happening out of Kayleigh’s view. 

*This Week’s Adventure:*

 Zinkman was a menace. I began to wonder if the Silverring was still in his right mind in wanting to bring him back. But the old dragon was convinced he was the key to a successful offensive, and so all I could do was wait to hear what the plan was. 

 Which isn’t to say any we were idle. We each tended to our own affairs, wherever that may be. For me it was Celene of course. Since the time we spent in the Far Realms consumed virtually no time on the Prime at all, that meant I could still feel at least marginally safe about my country’s borders. But I was less sure of this march on the Pomarj. I slipped out to the front and did some scouting of my own, without letting anyone know I was doing it. I wasn’t sure how Prince Melf, or for that matter Aran’gel, would view my snooping around, so I thought it better if I did so quietly. Things were as I had expected, based on the reports I saw at the palace. But it did little to put me at ease. I may have to act directly in this war to speed its conclusion and hence return the troops home sooner.

 My scouting was interrupted by a message over the scale; the Concordant had been killed – assassinated really – and the Brazen was asking for some help.

 It wasn’t long before several of us were at the Concordant’s tower. We were all there except Dravot, who was arriving momentarily. The Concordant’s throat had been slit in full view of the Hammer, but he had seen nothing. While there was some blood, there was not nearly enough of it for the kind of wound involved.

 I took a long look around the room. I couldn’t think of any reason to assassinate the Concordant, but I could think of plenty of people who would want to draw us into the open. Perhaps its self-centered but this killing reeked of being mere bait.

 Finally I caught a flicker of something out of the corner of my eye – something was here. It’s skill at hiding was at least as good as Valanthe – no average skulker here. I threw my old favorite spell, but the _glitterdust_ didn’t catch the creature in the effect. But I was sure if I could find it, I could reveal it.

 Aethramyr focused, trying to find the creature. He could feel the taint of evil but was unable to determine where it was. He felt that it had moved below us though. We all raced down to the next level of the tower, no doubt following the trap it was laying. We stood in the room looking, when there was another movement. This time it was near Aethramyr. There was no sound – not a single scrape or scuff. But a small knife flashed, and tore a wound in Aethramyr that would have killed a giant before it could whimper. Aethramyr was fortunately hardier than any giant and kept his feet, still ready to strike. Whatever it was, it moved back upstairs.

 Dravot had just arrived in the room upstairs as I flew in through the door. And I could see it – it was cloaked in black and had no eyes and sent a chill through me as I looked at it. And its knife was poised to strike at Dravot. 

 I yelled “Duck!” and glitter filled the air.

 This time, there was no ducking away. The creature was covered in magical gold flakes, and even with that handicap, it still danced in the shadows and could have been missed. But it couldn’t hide from me any longer. Nor it seemed from Aethramyr who charged into the room and struck at the assassin.

 Shatterspike came in a neat, precise thrust. The assassin tried to deflect the blade but the smallest flick of Aethramyr’s wrist made the great blade twist and evade like a snake. The sword slid into the assassin and the creature shuddered and died, felled by the single thrust.

 The scholars were sure it was a Gloom – a hired assassin of the most deadly stock. I was impressed with the creature’s stealth and with the powerful blade that it must have forged for itself. Naturally there was no sign of why it had come.

 The rest was simple. Well almost simple. It’s hard to ever thing of the reversal of death as “simple”. It was carried out with the quiet grace of a blessing, and thanks to Pelor and Dravot, the Concordant was soon breathing again. I was glad he had not been lost permanently – if he was only bait, it would be unfair (and truly, unnecessary) for him to be killed permanently.

 The blade was destroyed, which was difficult until it was separated from the Gloom.

 There were some crystals and focusing elements missing from one of the devices the Concordant was working on. Surely they were lifted by the Gloom. But it was likely a secondary priority – any creature so stealthy would not need to kill in order to steal. The items were not on the Gloom’s body, but after it was pointed out that Gloom’s can effortlessly walk on the shadow plane, Valanthe easily found the items hidden there.

 It’s hard to say what you would have to pay a Gloom although the price almost certainly isn’t measured by coin. Whatever it was, someone must have wanted something very badly. At this point though, I’m not even sure what they wanted, let alone why or who.

 But that’s hardly new.

 [OOC Note: for those interested – I’m not sure what the abilities of the gloom are – I doubt it was as listed though. For those that like numbers, I believe Valanthe has something like +67 for her hide roll. The gloom had to be pretty close to that. Kayleigh has +52 spot, but I was rolling poorly for the first several rolls and I needed to roll better than average to see it, and I was the only one who had a shot at it. Meanwhile, Aethramyr and his epic critical feats meant that his crit hit put the gloom in a save-or-die position, and he chose the latter.]


----------



## Sandain

I've missed you all so much, please.. never leave me again!

Hehe good to seee you all back!


----------



## LordVyreth

Oh, at this point, what level is each character?  And where did the disreprencies come from?  I don't think you guys died too often before True Resurrection became available.

Oh, and I'm still waiting for the request in the Rogue's Gallery, Dru.  Unless you really want those CR 30 1 HD humanoids!


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Bolo is Druid 21/Divine agent of Ehlonna 1/ Janni 1
He started later in the game and was 11th level while the rest were 13 or 14th level. I died a few times.... (insert joke here) and spent 28,500 exp to gain the prestige race Fey creature. (Bastion press Fearies book)


----------



## Len

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> I died a few times....



Don't think of it as dying, think of it as seeking shelter in the maws of giant creatures.


----------



## Scorch

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Oh, at this point, what level is each character?




Scorch is Wizard 10/Mage of the Arcane Order 10/Arch Mage 5

I am debating whether or not to go into Arcane Lord, the epic level prestige class that was in Dragon magazine a year or so back.

Scorch


----------



## WizarDru

The Horror....  
*The HORROR.

* *




*​


----------



## Salthorae

Scorch said:
			
		

> Scorch is Wizard 10/Mage of the Arcane Order 10/Arch Mage 5
> 
> I am debating whether or not to go into Arcane Lord, the epic level prestige class that was in Dragon magazine a year or so back.
> 
> Scorch




any idea what month that PrC is in? I've been looking for it in my Dragon's and can't find it


----------



## Zad

Kayleigh is Fighter 4/Sorcerer 4/Eldritch Knight 2/Arcane Archer 14 (Nifft variant)

I think the exp variations you're seeing are not really due to deaths so much as making magic items. Personally I spent about a full level's worth of exp making Dawnfire. (Yes, it was worth it.) Dravot and Scorch have done some also and then Bolo had his fey levels.


----------



## WizarDru

Salthorae said:
			
		

> any idea what month that PrC is in? I've been looking for it in my Dragon's and can't find it




Understand that when Scorch says "about a year ago", he really means "about *three* years ago." 

The Arcane Lord Epic Prestige Class predates D&D 3.5 and was released in the wake of the ELH.  The article you're looking for can be found in issue 297 of Dragon from July of 2002, on page 52, I think.  To my knowledge, it hasn't been offiicially updated to 3.5, and will be subject to my review (and probably minor tweaks).


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Oldschool1E is gonna kill you for that picture. Dave is so silly in the Eyes... LOL


----------



## Salthorae

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Understand that when Scorch says "about a year ago", he really means "about *three* years ago."




Like all mages wrapped up in their arcane studies then, time has little to no meaning for Scorch. Sadly my collection doesn't go back that far, so i'm gonna have to backorder that issue...


----------



## Aethramyr

The simplest of all the PC's: Paladin 25. 
Seems to do the trick, tho...

Aeth.


----------



## Valanthe the Sleepless

Val is Rogue 10 / Shadow Dancer 10 / Void Incarnate 5.


----------



## dravot

Dravot is Cleric 7/Radiant Shadow of Pelor 10/Shadowed of Pelor 6/Divine Agent 1

Radiant Shadow of Pelor is from Dragon Magazine and Shadowed of Pelor is a homebrew variant of Hunter of the Dead (more of a caster than hybrid as a PrC).

I have stuff that I need to write up from last week's session, but work has been pure H-e-double-toothpicks this week...I hope to get something on paper soon.

In the meantime, we're playing tonight.  Heck...we're playing right now!


----------



## Zad

*A Fool's Errand- Chapter 2*

*A Fool's Errand**– Chapter 2*

*OOC Notes:*

   Exp for 25th is 1875, for 24th is 2400.

 And I’d like to point out that never can I recall an evening of play where so many times the phrase “Wow, Bolo would be really handy to have here right now,” was uttered. The irony of course being that Bolo couldn’t join us for this session.

*This Week’s Adventure:*

 We still hadn’t heard anything from the Silverring on this grand plan, and I was in no mood to sit around waiting. On top of that, I was in the mood to stir things up. So what was left? Well Chavram was, as always, a mystery, but one who managed to make himself seem less significant than others. There were demons on the Prime hunting us but that was hardly anything new. 

 And then there was the Shadow King. We hadn’t really done much about him lately; perhaps it was time to make him a little nervous. 

 I had to go back to an older journal to refresh my memory: The Shadow King is the shadow cast by Therizdun. This manifestation is “leaking” out of Therizdun’s prison. In order to destroy him, we must obtain the three theerparts and use them to “re-scramble the lock” on his prison. (The prison was created by Sehanine, Pelor, and Heironeous and we would need a powerful follower of each to do the deed.) We had one theerpart in safe keeping, and a second was believed to be with the Red Lord, formerly of the Scarlet Brotherhood. Last information had him in Rauxes but the information was dated.

 So that left one part that we had no knowledge of – the neutral part. (The three parts correspond to law, chaos, and neutrality.) So where to start?

 Aethramyr mused “How about the ShadowTaker? He had information on everything. Maybe his notes have something about it.” 

 That elf is truly brilliant.

 He and I spent the day going through the ShadowTaker’s extensive system of notes and records. It was slow going at first and I began to suspect that a key cross-referencing book was missing. It turned out Scorch had it tucked away and once I had it, things started to fall into place. The old worm’s network was impressive and I began to make notes on how we could turn some of it to our own uses. We have always relied on getting our information from other groups and I fancied the idea of having our own independent streams of intelligence. Of course may of the methods of the ShadowTaker were rather unsavory, but there were still plenty of ethically salvageable parts of his network. Best of all, since they never knew who they worked for, there was no need for them to know the boss had changed.

 By the end of the day, we had come to a conclusion and cross checked it enough to be confident of it: the neutral theerpart is in the hands of Acererack, a lich of legendary status.

 [OOC: For those of you scratching your heads, I’ll just save you the trouble. Riddle me this: What lich was waiting at the bottom of the legendary module “Tomb of Horrors”? I should point out that Dravot recently came across some information that also pointed him at the Tomb of Horrors for a completely different reasons. All roads lead to Rome (or in this case, TPKs).]

 The entrance to the tomb is in the Vast Swamp, but it moves every day. Only the Hopping Prophet Wastri would be able to direct us to the entrance. He was a demi-god who roamed the Vast Swamp with a cult of mostly bullywug followers. I was a bit disturbed at this, until I dug a little further and found the ShadowTaker had notes of at least a hundred demi-gods on the Prime – most were associated with some particular location. 

 So how do we find a demi-god in a swampland that ran for hundreds of miles? Well certainly a druid would help. But Bolo was out of touch, called away on some important druidic business. So failing that I sent a message to another druid we knew. Granted, there weren’t many these days but at least there were a few.

 Certimo responded to my message and we arranged to meet. The centaur druid was looking well and we exchanged pleasantries before I got down to the heart of the matter.

 “We have a need to speak with a being called ‘The Hopping Prophet’ – a demi-god in the Vast Swamps. Are there any druids you know of familiar with that area who can be of some assistance?”

 Certimo thought for a moment. “The Vast Swamp is well named. But there are no druids who walk those paths. We have all but seceded it to him. He was once human you know. I am not sure how he became a demi-god but he has a particular hatred of dwarves and gnomes and the like. He’s not a prophet with any ability to see the future you understand – more that he simply preaches to his followers of the downfall of the demi-humans and so on.”

 I nodded, expecting the response. “Hm. So no suggestions eh? Well, I suppose it didn’t hurt to ask. I guess that leaves us the other plan: go down there and poke around and see what happens. Perhaps he’ll be drawn to us when he notices us in his demesnes.”

 We assembled the next day and traveled to Brindinford and then by air to Eyedrinn. After spending a quiet night there we set out the next day to explore the swamp, hoping to just get lucky. While we were in Eyedrinn, Meepo informed us over the scales that an ambassador from Bissel had arrived and wished to speak to us. We told Meepo to tell him we were engaged and would return in some days’ time. (In this case “we” does not include me, as I prefer to keep my hands clean of Ruun’Khazai.) Meepo replied later that the ambassador took the message as if expecting it, and then promptly packed up and left. Valanthe seemed troubled by this but said nothing else.

    In the morning we explored the swamp, using _wind walk_ to start randomly wandering generally south-east. After some hours we came across a small bullywug village of a few dozen residents. An old frog spoke for his people, and we told him whom we sought. 

 He considered for a moment. It was clear that they had considered violence as an option, but decided against it. I thought it just as well; killing them would help neither us nor them. Only a fool would delight in senseless slaughter, and while I had little knowledge of these creatures, I had no wish to destroy them. 

 The frog finally spoke. “We are not of his cult. But I can tell you where to look. His followers have a place to the north of here.” And he added a few more directions to make sure we found it.

------------------------------------------

 I just shook my head. “Was it really necessary to kill them all? I mean are they insane? I suppose I can understand some zealotry, but they were clearly over-matched. What were they thinking?”

 Aethramyr shrugged at the dozen bodies around us. “Who can say? Maybe they were mad. I even tried to spare a few but they’re rather fragile in addition to being not very bright and decidedly evil.”

    “And now this lead is a dead end,” I sighed. 

    Valanthe called from inside the single thatched structure “I found some prisoners! Looks like they tortured them.”

 The prisoners were reasonable creatures and happy to be freed. They were also helpful – they told us of a larger temple to the northeast. With any luck, we won’t have to kill them all.

      ---------------------------------------------

   I glared at Scorch.

    “What?” he asked, with only half-feigned confusion.

    “Was that really necessary?”

    Scorch harrumphed. “You saw them. They were crazed. There were dozens of them.”

 I sighed hard. “I was hoping to avoid another bloodbath, not to mention irritating the Hopping Prophet. I thought ‘Oh look, Scorch turned into a dragon! Brilliant! They’ll see our power and realize what foolishness it is to attack us. What a great demonstration!”

   “So what’s the problem?” he shrugged.

 “The problem was that you didn’t have to breathe fire across their ranks and kill nearly all of them. A bit over the top, wouldn’t you say?”

   “Eh. They’re evil cultists. What can you do?”

 The good news was that at least there were a few left alive this time. The bad news was none of them knew anything useful about where the Wastri was or how to get his attention.

 The “temple” itself was a stone building rather than thatch. In the center of the main chamber was a statue of the Hopping Prophet – a large frog standing upright with more human-ish feet, his tongue hanging out.

   “So what do we do now?” Valanthe asked.

   Dravot had an answer. “We pray.”

 He knelt before the statue and prayed. I’m not sure how Pelor would feel about all this but it didn’t bother Dravot. After a minute, brackish water began flowing into the temple. A breeze blew up, and the stone statue cracked and shattered from the inside out. 

 And revealed was the Hopping Prophet. Wastri was twelve feet tall if he was an inch, and moved as if in a drunken state. His face was covered in blood and his hands were stained red. He looked at Dravot expectantly.

   “Greetings my lord,” Dravot began simply.

   Wastri replied with a slow, croaking voice. _What…do you….want…_

   “We seek the entrance to the Tomb of Acererack and humbly seek your wisdom to find its location.”

_Why… should I tell… you.._

   Dravot quickly asked me mentally “Do you have an answer to that question?”

   I replied “Well we can either try the carrot or the stick. But we don’t know what he wants.”

 Dravot said “We are strong, and determined, and we will find the entrance. But we wish to do so with the least amount of impact on your lands.”

    Stick.

_Not…good enough. Kill my cultists….they are…only human._

   Dravot sensed an opportunity. “What could we offer that would please you?”

 The Prophet came a few steps closer. It looked down and then its tongue swiftly lashed out and snapped the neck of one of the surviving cultists. After reflection he said _You…are not capable…of what I desire… Perhaps…a price…could be found. There are…things…in my swamp…that I wish to remove. Slay some of them…then access to the tomb…I will give you._

_But cause me…further harm…and I will send…an avatar._

   Bribery was perfectly fine with us though. Dravot asked “What are these things you would have destroyed?”

_Hunters…from the south. From the Brotherhood… Very fast… problematic for me to destroy. The are abominations… somehow protected. Hunting them…tiresome. I have killed their army…but these things remain. Have killed more of my followers…than you. They are human…like you…but they summon…their snapping machines. They kill my followers…their way north…to go._

 Wastri was either unable to destroy these things, or unwilling to expend the necessary effort. It also seemed he was more interested in gauging us than actually destroying them. But it was still a reasonable offer to us.

_They wear circlets…of nonswamp rock. They summon snapping machines. Find them…and destroy them… and I will allow you to find the place of your…destruction._

 We agreed, and went south. It made sense that there would be continual skirmishes with the Scarlet Brotherhood to the south. If what Wastri said was true, he had destroyed their army except for these machines. So now we just had to find them.

 Finding the battlefields was easy enough. We found several villages that had been destroyed by some kind of large creature. But the creatures seemed to appear just outside of the village and never leave it. But in a turn of luck, Bolo finished his business and returned. His eye saw what ours could not – there were humans who came to the village. They summoned the machines, and un-summoned them afterward. The humans then left. It was a simple matter for Bolo to track the humans handlers and in no time we had found three of them, all wearing red coral circlets.

A stealthy approach was out of the question – they had some way of sensing our approach and already had summoned their “snapping machines”. They were something like a crab, if a crab were metallic and thirty feet across. And most crabs don’t look that mean.


----------



## Zad

I feel obligated to point out that we learned a few things during this session, the foremost being it's hard to keep a straight face when negotiating with a giant frog. The actual conversation at the game was a lot more humorous than what you see here.

My favorite would have to be Aethramyr at the start of the discussion with the Hopping Prophet.

"It's a nice temple you gots here. It'd be a shame if something....happened to it."


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Somehow it sounds like Bolo was there after all. 

By the way... Certimo is a tiefling. Ashberry is the Centaur.


----------



## WizarDru

Zad also deleted the "buuurr-rup"s at the end of most of Wastri's sentences.  

I think the foremost thing we learned was that the DM shouldn't underestimate what lifting a ton of bricks will do to his personal energy. 

The funniest part for me was when Dravot and Kayleigh are debating on how to talk to the Hopping Prophet.  

D: "Carrot or Stick?"
K: _"I don't know...I don't think I want to fight this guy."_
D: "You don't think we can take him?"
K: _"Maybe we can...but why bother if we don't have to?"_
D: "OK.  Carrot it is, then."  
D: [To Wastri]: “We are strong, and determined, and we will find the entrance. But we wish to do so with the least amount of impact on your lands.”
K: "_That was STICK."_
D: "Really?  Oh, I thought that was *carrot.*"   

=)


----------



## Sandain

oh great update! I like reading  n ice well written story, and then hearing about some funny things which happened during the game.


----------



## LordVyreth

So what exactly did the two really easy fights consist of?  It sounds like they went pretty quickly.  Oh, and did the party bring any allies with them, or is that era pretty much over and done with?  What level is Meepo and the party's various familiars/shadows/companions/cohorts at now?  

Oh, are you playing again this saturday?  If so, Dru, you have to get back to me in the other thread by tonight if you want me to finish up by this deadline.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Unfortunalty this is a skip week.  :\


----------



## Aethramyr

The two combats consisted of an indeterminite number of lvl 1-4 Evil Frog cultists. The exact fight went along the lines of the DM saying "They're lvl 1-4, Evil Frog cultists. They attack you, and we're just going to hand-wave it since they have zero chance of doing anything more than inconvenencing you. Zad, feel free to pretty it up for the Boards"   

Aethramyr


----------



## Zad

We didn't even have the vaguest discussion about it beyond what was mentioned (dragon/fire breath). It was ripe for what I have called "a Destan moment" wherein you tell the story by *not* telling the story - i.e. you skip over a part and back fill it in as needed.

As for familiars, they don't level per se. Scorch has his, I have mine, but they don't really come into play very often. At this level, we just agree to ignore them for the most part. Granted, I have a cat with more hit points than ten strong men, but he'd still be laid low by a lot of stuff we run into. And to be honest, we have enough people/players/animals on the init chart without adding them too.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

I have a feeling I am over my head. Bolo is being attacked by a battlebriar. (this is happening outside of the normal game.)

PS look Ma! new Avatar goodness!


----------



## WizarDru

Nice picture of a dwarf, there.


----------



## LordVyreth

Just doing the next "So, are you playing this week, and if so, I'll need more info from Dru in the Rogue's Gallery if I can help you in time" update.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

We will be playing The Savage Sword game on Saturday. 
I can't wait to see the swamp pieces Scorch has made. They look amazing from the shots I've seen. Check them out HERE!


----------



## Ashy

WOW!  Scorch, that dragon at the bottom absolutely ROX!  It's wings look real!!!!


----------



## WizarDru

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Just doing the next "So, are you playing this week, and if so, I'll need more info from Dru in the Rogue's Gallery if I can help you in time" update.




Actually, I think I've got everything I need for Saturday's game (and hopefully for the next several).  That is, unless they do something....unexpected.   But I have the three biggest tracks they're likely to follow scoped out, methinks.  So it should be pretty interesting how it plays out.


For the curious: It turns out that 'Return to the Tomb of Horrors' was written by....Bruce Cordell. _* MWA-HA-HA-HA!!!*_ [lightning flash, sound of thunder]


----------



## Zad

Wait.

Stop.

We're done. We're leaving. Now. Turn the ship around. I'm not walking into any Bruce Cordell module without certain... assurances.

If you think I'm joking, I'm not. I'd say I'm only "half-joking" but in reality it's more like 20% tops. 

A quote from a review on amazon



> There are sections in this beastly tome that can kill one character per page, and, as the party penetrates the deeper mysteries, the killer trap rate escalates to one or more per room. This makes a party of four-to-eight high-level PCs seem rather puny, and suggests a horde of henchmen, hirelings, and cannon fodder, preferably walking out in front.




Where's an astral construct when you need one....


----------



## Seule

My party (capaign went from 4th to 20th level) got very fond of my Astral Constructs walking out front of the party, and triggering traps and ambushes.  I can't count how many times poor Atlas saved us all, and indeed one player kept track of all the ways he died.

  --Seule


----------



## Scorch

Ashy said:
			
		

> WOW!  Scorch, that dragon at the bottom absolutely ROX!  It's wings look real!!!!




Thanks.  Check out he archive posts on my blog, there are pictures of five other dragons there as well.

Scorch


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

Seule said:
			
		

> My party (capaign went from 4th to 20th level) got very fond of my Astral Constructs walking out front of the party, and triggering traps and ambushes.  I can't count how many times poor Atlas saved us all, and indeed one player kept track of all the ways he died.
> 
> --Seule




Not one wanting to hijack here, but is there any chance you'll post that listing somewhere here?  Curiosity killed the cat and all that.

I'm going to check out those swamp pieces.   

GW


----------



## LordVyreth

Well, there's always the "stock up on Bags of Tricks or wand of summon horribly doomed Celestial Badger" trick.


----------



## Seule

Graywolf-ELM said:
			
		

> Not one wanting to hijack here, but is there any chance you'll post that listing somewhere here? Curiosity killed the cat and all that.




I've just put out an email to that player, to see if she still has the list.  I remember it included quite a few "Killed by a fall", as well as "Shredded by big monsters".  It also included a few "Disappeared into darkness, never came back" and I suspect that there was at least one "Vanished to another plane".  Also "Fell into lake, never came back".  In fact, there were a number that we had no idea what happened to the, they just never returned.

  --Seule


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Should I have new body writeups ready for Bolo's impending reincarnations?


----------



## dravot

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Well, there's always the "stock up on Bags of Tricks or wand of summon horribly doomed Celestial Badger" trick.



I'm sure that Bolo would be glad to summon up some water elementals for that duty.


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

Didn't he get in trouble with them before, by summoning one into the plane of fire, and shoving very poisonous items into another, and sending it back.

Then with the Fire elemental dropping it into water from up in the air?

Won't they cut him off again?

GW


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Graywolf-ELM said:
			
		

> Didn't he get in trouble with them before, by summoning one into the plane of fire, and shoving very poisonous items into another, and sending it back.
> 
> Then with the Fire elemental dropping it into water from up in the air?
> 
> Won't they cut him off again?
> 
> GW




Ok.... Yes Bolo had a few problems with his summonings. After the 12 step program he's fine now.  (And I knew what I was doing with the fire elemental. It just didn't work as well as I planned.   )


----------



## WizarDru

FWIW, Mount Celestia would revoke the rights of any caster that intentionally and continually threw one it's creatures into guaranteed deaths, as well.  Evil creatures, obviously, could care less.


----------



## Zad

Which is of course why astral constructs offer a conscience-clear way of solving the problem. 

I'm still not convinced I want to walk into any module by Bruce "Spawn-of-Satan" Cordell.

Actually I am convinced. Convinced that I don't.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Can we just have Aethramyr go first? He needs killing.   

/Bolo hides from the paladin's wrath


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Zad said:
			
		

> Which is of course why astral constructs offer a conscience-clear way of solving the problem.
> 
> I'm still not convinced I want to walk into any module by Bruce "Spawn-of-Satan" Cordell.
> 
> Actually I am convinced. Convinced that I don't.



There you go again with you "logic" and "sense of self preservation"


----------



## LordVyreth

WizarDru said:
			
		

> FWIW, Mount Celestia would revoke the rights of any caster that intentionally and continually threw one it's creatures into guaranteed deaths, as well.  Evil creatures, obviously, could care less.




Do you use an unusual rule form summons?  By the default rules for summonings, the creatures don't actually die; they just get sent back home none the worse for wear.  Now when you call a creature, using Planar Binding and/or Ally for example, the death is permanent.

And Zad, I wouldn't be too concerned.  I'm not sure what he's told you, but we've talked in the other thread, and he assured me he has made plans for this adventure with the group's likes and dislikes taken into account.  I can't really be more specific for obvious reasons, but if even this isn't general enough for you Dru, let me know and I'll edit it.


----------



## Greybar

If they have any memory of what has happened to them, that might be considerable mental duress, or at least a sign of disrespect.


----------



## Len

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> By the default rules for summonings, the creatures don't actually die; they just get sent back home none the worse for wear.



Yeah, but they still _hurt._


----------



## Zad

I think the general statement can be made that "Actions have consequences." True the summoned things don't die, but they can be uncomfortable. Calling up a summoned creature to stall a dragon while you escape is probably an acceptable usage. But recklessly sending them into bad situations will have consequences. (Assuming you are good.) Sure mistakes happen, but if they happen a lot, you can expect something to get upset. Bolo and the elementals is a great example. It wasn't one particular occurence that got him in trouble - it was the fact that he seemed to be repeatedly treating them poorly. Had a mage done it, they would have expected it, but he was a *druid* and should know better.

It's not a variant rule or anything so technical. It's about the fact that in this world, bad things happen when good people do bad things. Um...or something like that.



> And Zad, I wouldn't be too concerned. I'm not sure what he's told you, but we've talked in the other thread, and he assured me he has made plans for this adventure with the group's likes and dislikes taken into account




That only gives me mild comfort, as Bruce has thwarted us before. If there is any comfort to be had, it comes from the knowledge that it's *Wizardru's wife* that's leading the way and disarming the traps, and therefore any consequences are likely to befall her first, and therefore him shortly thereafter.


----------



## LordVyreth

Len said:
			
		

> Yeah, but they still _hurt._




Hmm, interesting point.  But do Elementals feel pain in the first place?  It's not like they have nerve endings.  I'll have to think about that for a bit.  Not that it matters in the case of the Badger, Badger, Badger, etc. situation, though.  Of course, that begs another question.  Is it considered evil to summon evil creatures that way if you only use them as trap-fodder?

At any rate, the Bag of Tricks option should still be viable, since they're not extraplanar.  Though Bolo might have issue with it, depending on how real you consider the BoT animals to be.


----------



## WizarDru

Zad pretty much summed it up correctly: actions have consequences. There is a different standard applied to different characters.

Wizards and Sorcerors are generally understood to be self-absorbed power-obsessed madmen. This doesn't give them a free pass, but it means less is expected of them. It's one reason that they can't summon planar allies as easily.

Bolo suffered a restriction because he was a druid, and druids are held to a higher standard by the Elemental Princes. Bolo summoned three different elementals and basically maltreated them, as far as the princes of water were concerned. That just doesn't fly and steps were taken. Bolo had several remedies as his disposal; he chose one and enacted it.  The bag of tricks question is problematic: as far as Bolo is concerned, and would be up to Bolo...but even if he felt they were just phantasms, watching animals be mistreated would be uncomfortable for him, at the least.

Now, if Scorch or Dravot started summoning Celestial Elephants and threw them off a cliff to their deaths, over and over again when a better option existed....well, Mount Celestia would cut them off, too. Dravot could probably reason with the higher powers there with some chance of success (living saint and all that)....Scorch? Not so much. And given that Scorch is scarce likely to bow down before the beings there anyhow, he'd probably just change what he summoned.

Now, this will never happen with Evil creatures. Why? Two reasons: the archdukes and demon princes are thrilled to torture their minions in this fashion, for one, and the very act of summoning an evil creature is a questionable activity. Second, if a good character summons an evil being and then kills it off in such a nasty fashion, they've most likely taken a step closer to being evil themselves. The only way to win here is not to play.

The only time that evil beings would cause some sort of an injunction is if it was personal (such as pissing of Pazuzu prevented you from getting air demons). Since Scorch is generally the only one who even consider such an act, it's never really come up. Now, I'm sure there are specific cases where summoning a devil could be turned to good purposes...but this ain't Sepulchrave's game here. _Saizho._


----------



## WizarDru

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Hmm, interesting point. But do Elementals feel pain in the first place? It's not like they have nerve endings.




They're magical.  I mean, they don't technically have eyes or vocal cords, either, but they see and talk normally.  Regardless of whether or not they actually experience physical pain, having your entire body vaporized after being yanked through a transdimensional portal is....unsettling, pain or not.  And having your body corrupted with poisons, possibly shifting your entire elemental type?  Also not good.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

WizarDru said:
			
		

> They're magical.  I mean, they don't technically have eyes or vocal cords, either, but they see and talk normally.  Regardless of whether or not they actually experience physical pain, having your entire body vaporized after being yanked through a transdimensional portal is....unsettling, pain or not.  And having your body corrupted with poisons, possibly shifting your entire elemental type?  Also not good.



Yeah yeah yeah... Bolo screwed up. Can we get past this? Really.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Oh, and did the party bring any allies with them, or is that era pretty much over and done with?  What level is Meepo and the party's various familiars/shadows/companions/cohorts at now?




The Savage Sword of Meepo Inc

1)	Aethramyr: (Dire Wolf Paladin Mount) Cresent, (Kobold de jour) Meepo
2)	Kayleigh: (Cat Familiar) Sasha
3)	Scorch: (Fox familiar) Flinch
4)	Valenthe: (Shadows) Verilunda, Berlden, and Little Shade  
5)	Bolo: (Dire Lion ex-human Monk) Windsabre, (Battlebriar) Grove, (Animal Companion) Tailcatcher
6)	Dravot: (Paladins of Pelor) Zira, Zara, Thorkeld.

There are many NPCs like all of the awakened Animals and plants Bolo has created and the entirety of Kobold Country as well as familys But the above list is the core members and thier "tag alongs". To my knowledge we have not had all of these beings on the board at once.


----------



## LordVyreth

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> Yeah yeah yeah... Bolo screwed up. Can we get past this? Really.




To be fair, it was less a discussion on Bolo screwing up and more a general debate on the morality of summoned trap bait.  I found it interesting because your group is the first one that I know of that really gave the process long-term consequences.  Even good parties in my experience have used the tactic or the related Bag of Tricks method to spring potential traps or test unusual magical effects (I once had a monk that ended up with a half-dozen captured familiars from dead wizards and used them that way.)


----------



## LordVyreth

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> The Savage Sword of Meepo Inc
> 
> 1)	Aethramyr: (Dire Wolf Paladin Mount) Cresent, (Kobold de jour) Meepo
> 2)	Kayleigh: (Cat Familiar) Sasha
> 3)	Scorch: (Fox familiar) Flinch
> 4)	Valenthe: (Shadows) Verilunda, Berlden, and Little Shade
> 5)	Bolo: (Dire Lion ex-human Monk) Windsabre, (Battlebriar) Grove, (Animal Companion) Tailcatcher
> 6)	Dravot: (Paladins of Pelor) Zira, Zara, Thorkeld.
> 
> There are many NPCs like all of the awakened Animals and plants Bolo has created and the entirety of Kobold Country as well as familys But the above list is the core members and thier "tag alongs". To my knowledge we have not had all of these beings on the board at once.




Interesting.  But I was also generally curious of the level or ECL of the more unusual followers.  Not so much the familars, but the cohorts and such.  Also, how were some of them obtained in game terms?  I know about the familiars and Valenthe's shadows and animal companions and such, but what about Dravot's 3 humanoids?  And Meepo, for that matter?  And Bolo's Grove and Windsabre?  Are they all products of Leadership feats, using either multiple versions of the same feat or some variant that allows for multiple higher level cohorts?  Or are some of them just story bonuses without feat requirements?

Oh, how'd the game go last night?


----------



## dravot

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Interesting.  But I was also generally curious of the level or ECL of the more unusual followers.  Not so much the familars, but the cohorts and such.  Also, how were some of them obtained in game terms?  I know about the familiars and Valenthe's shadows and animal companions and such, but what about Dravot's 3 humanoids?  And Meepo, for that matter?  And Bolo's Grove and Windsabre?  Are they all products of Leadership feats, using either multiple versions of the same feat or some variant that allows for multiple higher level cohorts?  Or are some of them just story bonuses without feat requirements?
> 
> Oh, how'd the game go last night?



Dravot's Paladin squad is the result of the Leadership feat.  Other than having the feat, we haven't really paid a ton of attention to the normal rules for it, and just lump the 3 of them as under the feat.  Maybe he's entitled to more, maybe that's too many, it's just not worth caring about.  

Edit: The game was much fun.  The fight in the swamp was complex and interesting.  It was Crits a Plenty night.  Even Dravot had one (35 dmg on the crit).


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Windsabre has followed Bolo for a few months of game time. He was charged by "the Green Lady" to aid Bolo. there are even small posts by Wizardru forshadowing his arrival. Grove is Brand spanking new and I'll have his story later tonight most likely. I was not able to get to the game before last nights and We decided that Bolo was away on a Druidic Council mission. That's where he made his new "friend" 

Both of them fall under Bolo's Leadership feat. 

Bolo will e getting a new animal companion soon. I leveled to 24th level and now have the "Magical Animal Companion" Feat. I'm thinking Owlbear but I'm hard pressed not to take a Chimera. 
Tailcatcher was Bolo's original ompanion but I made the mistake of basing him off my dog who passed away from cncer and I just couldn't play him anymore. (Yeah I'm a real softy.) So I had Bolo leave him at the first ash for safe keeping but now I eally understand how a Companion and druid work together and want that ability back.


----------



## LordVyreth

What about a hydra?  Those things are brutal in 3.5.  And the way Dru handles Leadership is interesting.  Care to elaborate on how you work it, Dru?  And what level are some of these companions/cohorts?

Sounds like it was a good game.  When can we expect a recap?


----------



## WizarDru

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> What about a hydra? Those things are brutal in 3.5. And the way Dru handles Leadership is interesting. Care to elaborate on how you work it, Dru? And what level are some of these companions/cohorts?
> 
> Sounds like it was a good game.  When can we expect a recap?




Last question first: depends on Zad's workload, I would assume.  It's not impossible we'll see one today, but you never can tell.  I can promise you won't have to wait three months for it. 

Now as to how I handle leadership....it's a complex equation.  Followers and cohorts don't just sprout from the Oerth, and usually need to be obtained in some fashion.  If I can use Dr. Who as a quick metaphor, it's the difference between getting help from a friendly NPC for one adventure and having someone become a companion.  Leela, Jo, Sarah Jane, K9 or Rose didn't just appear out of the ether, they got caught up in the Doctor's adventures, and then were invited/decided to tag-along.  Cohorts work that way, too.

Dravot took leadership partly at my request, to give a bedrock for the game.  In turn, he got Thorkeld, the Lion of Brindinford (and now his brother-in-law).  As he rose in level, he eventually got Zira/Zara, and then both of them when they separated.  Bolo has traditionally only had one animal companion until recently.

More importantly, characters like Meepo,  Fuvex'vex'vex or the residents of Kobold Country (who aren't cohorts) rarely contribute anything meaningful in terms of an adventure proper (other than comic relief) unless they are made into cohorts.

Ultimately, as the campaign becomes more and more powerful, all non-PCs tend to get left to guard the horses, metaphorically.  Thorkeld, Zira and Zara spend time releiving Dravot of lots of administrative, financial and social burdens, usually off-camera.  The Mage's guild can't be counted on for much unless directly ordered to do something, and that's purely off of Scorch's status as a MoAO 10, currently the only one left.  Aethramyr is held in high esteem many places, but he can't reliably call on folks like the People of the Testing in an emergency.  Furthermore, many cohorts, companions and familiars are simply too vulnerable.  Dravot just couldn't keep watching Thorkeld die over and over again, nor Bolo wait for Tailcatcher to get unlucky.

Finally, at high levels, combat takes long enough without having ten extra creatures/cohorts/companions/shadows/familiars and so forth to deal with....especially when they rarely decide the course of a battle.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*Sometimes I'm just brilliant!*

I was just thinking about Magical beast wildshape and was looking at alternate concepts when I remembered "Practiced Spellcaster". I'm dropping the companion (Magical at least) and taking a level of Janni instead of the level of druid. (my hit points will go up by 22, +1 natural armor, Sizechange (2/day) and I'll be casting as a 24th level druid. Big bonus!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


----------



## Len

Maybe this is just a superstion of mine, but I wouldn't brag about how powerful my character is right in front of my DM.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Len said:
			
		

> Maybe this is just a superstion of mine, but I wouldn't brag about how powerful my character is right in front of my DM.



You have to realise I have very little to crow about at the moment.


----------



## WizarDru

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> You have to realise I have very little to crow about at the moment.




Yeah, you haven't even been eaten in several sessions.  You're average is slipping.


----------



## Seule

Remember Practiced Spellcaster means your caster level goes up, but you don't actually get any more spells.  You are just better at beating SR and such.


  --Seule


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Seule said:
			
		

> Remember Practiced Spellcaster means your caster level goes up, but you don't actually get any more spells.  You are just better at beating SR and such.
> 
> 
> --Seule



I'm already at max for spells, so that's not an issue.


----------



## LordVyreth

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Ultimately, as the campaign becomes more and more powerful, all non-PCs tend to get left to guard the horses, metaphorically.  Thorkeld, Zira and Zara spend time releiving Dravot of lots of administrative, financial and social burdens, usually off-camera.  The Mage's guild can't be counted on for much unless directly ordered to do something, and that's purely off of Scorch's status as a MoAO 10, currently the only one left.  Aethramyr is held in high esteem many places, but he can't reliably call on folks like the People of the Testing in an emergency.  Furthermore, many cohorts, companions and familiars are simply too vulnerable.  Dravot just couldn't keep watching Thorkeld die over and over again, nor Bolo wait for Tailcatcher to get unlucky.
> 
> Finally, at high levels, combat takes long enough without having ten extra creatures/cohorts/companions/shadows/familiars and so forth to deal with....especially when they rarely decide the course of a battle.




Ah.  I see the point about epic-level fights taking forever, especially since my campaign's now online to make things take even longer, but I'm surprised that the cohorts at least are still that vulnerable, which is why I'm curious about their levels.  Using standard Leadership rules, a cohort can easily be just a couple levels below the character, and I'm sure that at least a few of the characters have a Cha score up the yin-yang.  At that point, even the cohorts are epic-level themselves or at least 20th or in the high teens, which might not be worth risking them in the frontlines but should be enough to make them effective backup forces, especially the wizards and clerics.  Of course, I'm not positive, but I think you need to take the epic feat Epic Leadership to get them above 14th level or so, so maybe that explains it.  Still, a druid's primary animal companion could still be brutal with the right equipment (belt of strength, amulet of mighty fists, various slotted trinket of Con bump, +5 barding, etc.)  But Bolo isn't a straight druid (no pun intended,) so I guess the companion is a little lower than possible.  I undertand how that could be a problem; I once ran an epic-level ranger with a gnoll's ECL and LA and the axiomatic and winged templates, so his megaraptor companion was usually forced to flee as soon as a fight started.

Coincidentally, the companion issue just came up in my last game.  The party just got a massive load of new magic items that was nonetheless weaker than the standards in the party at the time, so a lot of it went to the wizard's mephit familiar.  This was a bit of a surprise to me, as said familiar hasn't left her familiar pocket during adventuring time for about eight levels, after it was attacked and maimed by a swarm of mechanical insects that infected him and started replacing his limbs with machinery!


----------



## WizarDru

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Ah. I see the point about epic-level fights taking forever, especially since my campaign's now online to make things take even longer, but I'm surprised that the cohorts at least are still that vulnerable, which is why I'm curious about their levels. Using standard Leadership rules, a cohort can easily be just a couple levels below the character, and I'm sure that at least a few of the characters have a Cha score up the yin-yang. At that point, even the cohorts are epic-level themselves or at least 20th or in the high teens, which might not be worth risking them in the frontlines but should be enough to make them effective backup forces, especially the wizards and clerics.




Well, here's the thing:  

1) Six PCs is plenty.  If we followed the standard leadership rules, Thorkeld would be Bolo's level.  That would make some attendant NPCs as powerful as PCs, and that's something I'm not really keen on.  Further, it's one more thing to keep an eye on, one more set of powers for someone to keep tabs on and more combatant to be considered during a combat (both for PCs and DM).  Six Epic PCs carry a lot of equipment, options, effects and active spells.  Any way to relieve the burden is GOOD.

2) They die.  They die A LOT.  Dravot stopped bringing Thorkeld along when he kept getting killed (usually through failed saves or overwhelming damage) by creatures that he had no business getting mixed up with.  He wasn't advancing fast enough to keep up.  The same applies to other creatures and NPCs.  Val's Shadow squad has the added benefit of being undead apparitions, so they tend to just be banished back to the shadow plane...or else they'd never see use, as they're too vulnerable.  And no wizard wants to risk his familiar...EVER.  There's simply no big benefit to it.

3) Leadership pays in intangibles, sometimes.  Dravot gets respect in ways that no other player does.  Scorch gets alternate sets of fawning and sneering, but his guild run smoothly mostly out of fear and self-interest.  The church of Pelor is filled with folks who would march to their death at Dravot's command (a fact that gives Dravot no end of trouble...he hates people doing that sort of thing, generally).  The townsfolk of Brindinford look up to Dravot, and generally go out of their way to follow his edicts (rare as they are).  The queen listens to Kayleigh, but Kayleigh GETS orders, she doesn't give them.  The Overking _fears_ Dravot.  The Council of Druids listens to Bolo, and many druids would follow him, if he asked.  Bolo chooses not to, for the sake of druidic unity.

4) The SSOM hates, Hates, HATES to carry the load of a large retinue.  Sure, dravot could get a squad of clerics to follow the group on standby...they all have groups they could call on;  when you're facing the Khrel-Hrdad, however, with monstrosities that rend the fabric of space and time with their evil rage...well, it's of no great benefit to drag a bunch of Wiz 8-12s into combat with you--they just tend to get in the way.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

WizarDru said:
			
		

> when you're facing the Khrel-Hrdad, however, with monstrosities that rend the fabric of space and time with their evil rage...well,



um..... Check please. I think i'm done now.


----------



## Zad

Leadership is indeed a tricky thing. As PC's gain respect in the world, they get certain benefits that seem to blur the line with the feat. This is, in my opinion, as it should be, and it's up to the DM to maintain the right balance. I think at times people expect too much from the rules and that they should explain everything in detail. This is an RPG and part of that is the unique human element that each DM brings to the game to make it interesting. Rules can never substitute for judgement or sense of story, and they can never develop a great campaign. They are the tools to build the house, not the blueprint.

So let's be more detailed for a minute. Each one of the PCs has an ability to exert influence on others. It is based on some mechanics (feats) and some personal charisma, and some level of contribution. This information is apparent to all of us in game, but not necessarily to the readership, since much of the "juice" is hidden from Kayleigh's point of view or from the action.

The group as a whole can call on the dragons for aid. They request, rather than order, but their request is likely to be granted based on all the valuable contributions they've made over time. 

Scorch: Head of the guild, no feats involved. The guild operates almost purely out of self interest. Scorch would have to cajole cooperation from someone. His status gives him a chance to be heard, but the inducements he offered would more likely determine the answer.

Aethramyr: No leadership roles, no feats involved. Aethramyr is respected by the people of the Testing. He could ask them for aid, but not order it. He would certainly be given thorough consideration, since he has contributed to the cause of those people and on religuious grounds. But they would resist any request that would be too costly. Had he the feat, a likely game effect would be more of a willingness to ignore the cost of a request, and/or a better ability to order rather than ask.

Dravot: Leadership role, leadership feat. The perfect combination of story and mechanics supporting each other. His power and influence are both temporal and spiritual.  Even the highest elders of the church would have to have a pretty damn good reason to refuse a request/order he made. It has nothing to do with hit dice or numbers of guys in armor - it represents the both the reach of his feat and the reach of his character in the world. It also represents the fact that humans are generally more inclined to obey authority in this context.

Bolo: Implied leadership role, no feats involved. Druids on the other hand are not easily led. Their very nature is contrary to it. Bolo, as a high ranking druid, could make requests, but the response would be driven by the need and his ability to make his case.

Valanthe: No leadership role, no feats involved. Perhaps the far end of the spectrum for this discussion. Valanthe is the least of a "people person". There are no religious orders, no monarchy, no guild that she influences. Such entanglements would be too constrictive for her anyway. The only organization she could tap on would be on the Shadow Plane. And while she has a reputation there, and she has contributed to their cause, she has no ability to order anything, and limited ability to request. Valanthe is not one to look elsewhere for aid in any case.

Kayleigh: Leadership role, no feats involved. Elves too are not easily commanded, but are more organized than the druids. Kayleigh has no troops per se, but if she was in the field and gave orders to an elven military unit, her orders would most likely be obeyed. The champions have no formal rank, but massive informal rank. Combined with her personal reputation and contributions to the elven people, she could get a lot of support if needed. But most of this comes from her personal qualities and experiences and elven culture rather than a feat. Had she the leadership feat, that might manifest in troops under direct command, or a champion cohort. 

In each case, the character's base level of influence is more driven by what they've done (remember - actions have consequences  ) than the feat. What the feat does is cover the degree of response and decrease the amount of justification needed.


----------



## WizarDru

Zad said:
			
		

> Valanthe: No leadership role, no feats involved. Perhaps the far end of the spectrum for this discussion. Valanthe is the least of a "people person". There are no religious orders, no monarchy, no guild that she influences. Such entanglements would be too constrictive for her anyway. The only organization she could tap on would be on the Shadow Plane. And while she has a reputation there, and she has contributed to their cause, she has no ability to order anything, and limited ability to request. Valanthe is not one to look elsewhere for aid in any case.




Correction here: Valanthe has a leadership role, other than her shadows.  Known only to Scorch and Valanthe, she secretly leads the organization known only as The Hand.  Scorch, fearing a repeat of previous socerous mistakes, built a failsafe into the new Mage's Guild: a secret watchdog organization of non-mages dedicated to watching, monitoring and, if necessary, stopping arcanists from violating the basic precepts of the guilds bylaws.  The Hand, however, is a small organization and Valanthe's ability to order them somewhat limited.  Zad correctly points out that Valanthe rarely seeks outside aid from any agency, even her comrades...a self-reliance earned on the streets of Dyvers and not easily shaken.

Also, it should be noted that Aethramyr has an increased social status in the nation of Highfolk, where he was raised, though not as high as a certain elf-prince-in-self-exile.


----------



## the Jester

All right, this thread gets my official award for "story hour read in the most bizarre order."   

Now that I've finished the whole thing at last, I don't think I read more than three pages in  order...

Great story, guys- I really like the pics, too.  Keep up the good work.

(btw, Wizardru, it was a kick seeing Xukrischis in here!)


----------



## Ashy

Zad said:
			
		

> Leadership is indeed a tricky thing. As PC's gain respect in the world, they get certain benefits that seem to blur the line with the feat. This is, in my opinion, as it should be, and it's up to the DM to maintain the right balance. I think at times people expect too much from the rules and that they should explain everything in detail. This is an RPG and part of that is the unique human element that each DM brings to the game to make it interesting. Rules can never substitute for judgement or sense of story, and they can never develop a great campaign. They are the tools to build the house, not the blueprint.




I agree 1000% here, Zad!  This just might become my sig!


----------



## Zad

Re: Valanthe's role in the guild - yeah I let that one go by the wayside, as it mostly was covered by the Scorch discussion, and seemed slightly tangential for the purposes of the point I was going for. It's a very interesting role as a safety kill-switch more than a leadership position per se.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Bolo HAS the Leadership feat. I see his leadership as one over the awakened animals he has created and many of the druids that he has met. 
Not to mention the Blue Bugbear tribe and the people in his grove.


----------



## Zad

*A Fool*

*A Fool’s Errand – Chapter 3*

*OOC Notes:*
Exp is 2850 for 24th, 2185 for 25th.

 Changing the title of the adventure to "A Fool's Errand"

*Loot: *
We got some!

       Periapt of wisdom +2
Minor cloak of displacement
Ring of electrical resistance – minor
Monk’s belt

*This Week’s Adventure:*
I’m not entirely sure if they just got lucky and we caught them in a ready-to-fight state, or if they somehow knew we were coming. (Or someone alerted them?) But our tracking suggested that the crabs were brought out by the sorcerers as needed, and I had hoped we’d be able to ambush the sorcerers before they were able to use their weapons. 

 A fine plan that died a quick death.

 The crabs were easily visible from a distance and the wizards were climbing into a hatch in their undersides. I’m still not sure if it was us they were preparing for, or something else they were getting ready to attack. In any case we closed the distance quickly and wasted no time in discussion.

 The crabs were massive beasts and appeared to be creatures rather than constructs. But whatever their natural form, it had been twisted and shaped into a weapon of war. As we approached, the mages were still madly scrambling to get inside the beasts. But one of them, whether for being slow or just curious, was hanging half upside-down looking out of the hatch at what was attacking (that being us).

 So I looked at a mage who was over a hundred feet away, only his head and one shoulder visible on the underside of a thirty-foot diameter crab, half obscured by legs and claws. 

 I clicked my tongue. “Last dumb thing he’ll ever do,” I said to myself as I fired.

 It was a good volley, and the mage clearly was not ready for it. I even managed to brush one of the arrows against the underbelly and bounce it right into his throat. I was used to fighting some strong foes, but it this was a perfect shot in an excellent volley and the target was only a Brotherhood mage. “That’ll do fine,” I thought, as the fiery arrows exploded in the hatch.

 And then the most amazing thing happened.

 He survived. 

 I’m not sure how. I didn’t see any warding spells particularly. And I’m sure his robe needed a good washing afterwards, and not just from the blood. But he didn’t drop dead out of the hatch, and for that I was quite put out.

 [OOC Note: It was the night of criticals. I think I had seven or so total, and I rarely get crits. My fellow meepites were having similar luck. This mage took a full volley of six arrows including one crit for a total somewhere around 250 damage. And he lived. I was surprised, but probably not as much as he was.]

 Dravot raised his hands, and the earth shook. The water in the marshy area quickly surged and footing became treacherous. This wasn’t an issue to us, what with so few of us actually running about any more. It also wasn’t much of an issue to the crabs, who were surprisingly nimble despite their size.

 The battle swung into full fury. The shells on the crabs were harder than they had any business being, and I had to shift to adamantine arrows to penetrate more easily. (Shatterspike of course hardly seemed to notice.) There was also a strange magical force protecting the crabs. The wizards inside used their magic to either enhance the crabs or to throw some powerful (yet ineffectual) attacks at us. It was a respectable force and the three of them could easily do more than destroy villages. These beasts could safely destroy a small army.

 Unfortunately for them, we destroy large armies.

 Spells had no difficulty landing, nor did most of our weapons. It’s just the things were so large that it took some effort to bring them down. We suspected some of them had multiple occupants including some kind of healer inside. But luck was on our side, and stroke after stroke landed on the crabs. 

 They never recovered from trying to prepare. It wasn’t long before something odd happened, and we began to suspect that the pilots had abandoned their weapons. The crabs tried to retreat but never had a chance.

When it was clear the crabs were just fleeing and badly injured, Bolo's resolve wavered. (That's not meant as a bad thing - indeed I would expect it.) One of the crabs was twitching in a swampy puddle, bleeding to death. Bolo was about to show compassion and heal the poor creature, when several magic missiles from Scorch flew by and ended the poor thing.

Bolo shouted, a single tear on his face. But he wasn't really mad at Scorch as much as he was at the twisted fool who create these things. 

I did my best to tell Bolo what he already knew. "Their creation never gave them a chance at a good life. They were shaped and warped by those that would use them. It may be unkind, but it is the smallest in a long life of unkindnesses, and it will be best for them."

Bolo agreed, or at least most of him did.

After inspecting the remains and verifying the occupants had retreated, Dravot and I grimaced.

[“And you all mocked me when I researched that “Power Word: Butter” spell…”]

 “Well, I suppose it’s done,” he said.

 “Hm,” I nodded. “But not entirely. I suppose the crabs are destroyed though, and the Hopping Prophet will probably be satisfied. The mages alone are not nearly the threat.”

 “No doubt this is a costly defeat for the Brotherhood.” Dravot paced a moment. “They’re not going to be happy. And they’re going to figure out it was us easily enough.” No argument there. “I wonder if they’ll retaliate or just decide not to waste more resources.”

 “A good question, but fortunately one that doesn’t worry me overly,” I smiled, and he agreed. “But consider this – could they divine our purpose here? I’m not sure it’d be that difficult to figure out.”

 “And if they do, what then?” he replied. “Well perhaps we’ll just do what everyone expects and die within the tomb.”

 “Somehow, that’s not very encouraging,” I glared.

 While we were talking, it seemed Scorch, Aethramyr and Bolo were having a discussion about the shells of the crabs and how suitable it would be for druidic armor. They then proceeded to spend an hour cutting various pieces away for later use. Strange but at least they dug out my arrows as well. This may seem somewhat morbid given how Bolo felt about destroying them, but it made a certain kind of sense. He was like the hunter, using nature's gifts to survive.

 We returned to Wastri’s temple, which now was abandoned. The statue gazed downward as we placed the coral circlets at its feet. The stone broke and the statue knelt, grasping the circlets. After a moment, it flexed and crushed them to powder in its fist. 

 Then it brought its hands together and rubbed them as if working dough. Soon it handed Dravot a small statue of a frog that appeared to be made of amber. 

_Take this totem. It will take you…. To the place where the entrance….will be…. Tomorrow. Mwarrrpbpbtpbt. If you seek…your doom… this is the place to find… it. The Scarlet Brothers sought it as well_.

 The statue then crumbled into small hunks of rock, and even the temple itself seemed to fade into the marshes.

 The totem would feel warm or cold when facing various directions and it was a simple enough matter to travel through the swamp for two hours or so until we arrived at an unremarkable location that seemed to be our destination. We passed various denizens of the swamp on our route, but none of them were foolish enough to attack us.

 In the morning, nothing happened. We were still in the same unremarkable area that we had been, and there was no new sight to greet us. Lacking any other ideas, and not having any reason to doubt Wastri, we waited. It was only a matter of an hour or two before we heard a rumbling. Valanthe and I made it out first, then the others – like an avalanche or an earth elemental. Soon I saw a bulge in the ground that was rolling towards us. It was as if a cat was playing under a blanket, moving the ground above it without breaking it. The bulge rolled under the ground to where we waited until, with a shake of the earth, it broke the surface.

 Before us now was a cave entrance; a toothy maw of stalactites and stalagmites. Torches leaked oily smoke up to the arched ceiling. The walls had mosaics of Acererack’s atrocities. In the shadows, something vaguely human-ish lurched around. The floor was littered with dead bodies that had been picked clean. 

 I gave Dravot a final, pleading look. “Must we?”

 He just nodded once and I sighed.

 “Entrance is trapped,” Valanthe said, surprising no one. The stony teeth would shred whomever they could but the trap was magical in nature and our protections meant that some of us were already beyond its perception. Deadly, but dealt with easily enough. This was just a preliminary test certainly. Bolo took the form of a thoqqua and turned the toothy maw into something considerably less impressive and the trap gnashed in futility as we crossed it.

 The figure was a broken human. He was writing on the walls in blood and wearing tattered, bloodstained robes.

_“Acererack’s bane is TRUE DEATH.” _

_“My eyes are the windows to your souls.” _

_“Find and destroy the dragon’s heart, the only way for Acererack to depart.”_

 He had noticed us but kept looking away, hoping perhaps we wouldn’t notice him, or perhaps would simply die in the trap. When that failed, he spoke in a manic ramble.

 “Why have you come here? You seek the power that lies within Acererack’s crypt for yourselves? Or would you seek to destroy it? You are fools either way. For the dangers are great. You must prove yourself to me – to the crypt of Acererack himself. Heroes dare to confront him…curse him…curse him…”

 His head snapped back and fangs came out and his fingers grew into claws.

 I’ll be honest here; I’m not sure what I was thinking. I fired five shots out of reflex before really thinking about it. I’m not sure why. I try to be more thoughtful than that. It’s not that it didn’t work – it did. The arrows bit deep and the creature shrieked in pain and delight. “More more more!” it cried. 

 But it was a vampire. So why did I shoot?

 Dravot wasn’t really sure either. But he fulfilled his role, and brought up his holy symbol and with Pelor’s will, destroyed the poor creature. 

 After the dust blew away, Dravot looked at me. I just shrugged and we looked at the doors. They were large copper affairs flanked by braziers. The script around the door indicated one must channel divine energy to open the doors, but Dravot thought it was a lie. They were also trapped of course, but Valanthe disabled it, and opened the door. 

 To a wall.

 The old “fake door” trick.

 We spread out around the cave, and after some time searching found a hollow spot behind one of the mosaics. Bolo was still a thoqqua, and simply melted through the wall. Of course, that had the unintended side effect of setting off a scythe trap that nearly gutted him. 

 A passageway lead us to a round room. The walls glistened as if coated with a black oil and tiny globes of light created an eerie reflective effect. There were eight doors around the edge, and two ghostly figures silently moved from door to door trying each in turn then moving on.


----------



## WizarDru

Run! * I**n the name of all that's HOLY, RUN!!!






*


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Kayleigh said:
			
		

> _“Find and destroy the dragon’s heart, the only way for Acererack to depart.”_



*Wow! how did I miss that!?! * Can you say Ashardelon? (Hi gramps. I'm Bolo, descendent of Dydd. We're here to end your worthless existance.)


----------



## Aethramyr

I don't think it's Ashardalon's heart, but it could be. I thought his heart was in NightFang Spire at one point, and this Acererack has been around since before our Debacle there. Not to say it can't have been moved or anything, but I think we're going to be dealing with a different dragon's heart. We'll still prepare for the worst, though.


----------



## Ashy

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Run! * I**n the name of all that's HOLY, RUN!!!
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> *




WOW!  OOoooooo WOW!


----------



## WizarDru

Ashy said:
			
		

> WOW!  OOoooooo WOW!




That awesome Siege Crab was fashioned by our own Valanthe.  Those so interested should go to this thread, where you can see how it was constructed.  If she has time today, Val might upload the pictures from the battle and put one or two here on the thread.  When combined with Scorch's also-awesome swamp pieces, it makes for a great scene.


----------



## Ashy

Yea' I've been keeping tabs on that thread as well, 'Dru!


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Burning.... Burning now! Oh wait no i'm not.


----------



## Zad

*A Fool's Errand - Chapter 4*

*A Fool’s Errand – Chapter 4*

*OOC Notes:*

   Exp is 1300 at 24, 900 at 25.

*This Week’s Adventure:*

   We stared at the room with noticeable tension. The question was whether it would be more dangerous to move into the room or stay in the hallway. I wasn’t about to move in until Valanthe had a chance to check the room over. Valanthe found not shortage of pressure plate traps in the room with unknown functions and was slowly working her way through them. Then I heard a small “ting” followed by a rush of air and a thud. Behind us, a large block apparently of adamantium had fallen from the ceiling and blocked our movement backwards. Scorch was spooked by this and moved into the room, apparently more willing to face whatever was inside than to linger in the hallway.

 It wasn’t long before we all stood in the room, though the wiser of us stopped at the doorway until Valanthe could verify the situation in the room. This decision was motivated partly by the fact that someone triggered a pressure plate, and the room started rotating. The motion was barely perceptible to those inside, and even those flying were moved with the room. But in the hallway, Dravot was nearly cut off as the room turned.

 The ghostly figures had ignored us at first but were becoming agitated and though somehow removed from this reality, were becoming aware of us. Dravot concluded they were alips but were more powerful than the normal variety of such creatures. Dravot attempted to destroy them but was unsuccessful. But it really made them annoyed.

 The battle was brief as various weapons were brought to bear. It was unremarkable, save for Aethramyr losing a great deal of his mind due to the attacks of the alips. Dravot was able to repair the damage, but the nature of the place was becoming more clear to me. It wasn’t about destroying us in one blow – it was about destroying us slowly, progressively wearing us down and consuming our resources. I could only hope we could out-last the place. This point was further underlined when Valanthe was poisoned by a trap on one door, and required curing before the toxin did significant damage.

 Oh and the scales had stopped working too.

 After some stumbling around, we finally identified most of the trap- and room-turning triggers. With that known, we could stop making the room turn and at least try to make sense of the situation. We began working our way around the perimeter, checking and opening each door. Several lead to blank walls, which we chalk-marked. We also found the passage we had entered by (or one that looked very much like it), and then ultimately a new passage. It is of course possible the room could align to more than one set of corridors or even move vertically, but I prefer not to think about it. Since one way out was as good as any other, we moved down the new hallway.

 We came to a large room that had a tall horizontal wall running across it. The ceiling was fifty feet high, and the wall around forty. The wall had several devices on it for climbing over – a knotted rope, spikes driven into the wall, and a slightly rotting ladder. 

 Now honestly, who carries a ladder that big around with them?

 Seeing this, it was no surprise that flight stopped working inside the room. Why else would you need a ladder? But better yet, why would you need a ladder, a rope, _and_ pitons? 

 Valanthe spider-climb-ed up the side wall and looked over, and saw that the wall bisecting the room was only six inches thick, and the room continued on after it. We were musing it over, looking for the catch in all this, and Bolo decided to act. At some point he had shifted into air elemental form, and went up the ladder. It easily bore his minimal weight and he looked over the wall. It did not shoot up into the ceiling and try to crush him, nor did it fall over on him, nor did anything else unfortunate happen. He went over the top and landed on the other side.

 Valanthe could see him from her position on the ceiling. He landed, walked towards the hallway on the other side a bit, turned around and waved at Valanthe that it was ok. And that’s when she was sure something was wrong.

 I still wasn’t sure what to make of it all but Valanthe suspected something unseen. After a _True Seeing_ was cast on me, I went up the ladder. Upon looking over the wall, I saw the same Bolo she did. Of course it was an illusion. The real Bolo was underneath the illusionary floor on the other side of the wall, with two large cube-ish oozes gnawing on him. Bolo shifted to an ethereal marauder and went into the ethereal as we mobilized.

 It took a little doing but we finally hacked them into enough pieces where they stopped moving. Dravot joined Bolo in the “I blinded my own party member!” club when he used a _Sunburst_ and blinded Scorch in the process. As if oozes weren’t bad enough.

 [OOC: One should point out, in fairness, that dear Dravot had a random encounter with kidney stones earlier that day, and will probably post in short order that he wasn’t at his best that night. Nonetheless I’m sure it’ll be something we will mock him about for many years to come.]

 One of the cubes had a very unusual ball of black glass – very magical, and very evil. We didn’t spend much time examining it but tucked it away. 

 In the hallway beyond, there was a secret door that lead to a hallway bypassing the room we just left. This is worth mentioning for the fact that it does seem like there are bypasses built into the tomb, and perhaps we can find more of them in the future.

 The hall ended in a set of double doors. As we advanced down the hall, we could hear the sounds of distant chanting. It grew louder and louder until it was a steady roar at the doors. The sight beyond was awe-inspiring. The chamber was vast with a hundred-foot ceiling and running at least five hundred feet wide. Sconces blurred out into the distance going at least several thousand feet. Near the ceiling was a massive translucent hourglass, the sands just starting to fall. The chamber was filled with hundreds, perhaps thousands of creatures chained to the floor. They were tossing around, tearing their hair, screaming, chanting, mumbling, and doing all manner of other manic things. Ahead a minotaur read tea leaves out of his hollowed out horns. To one side, a gypsy amputee dealt cards with her tongue. A thousand prophets, diviners, and seers filled the room, chained before a thousand doors. Each door was a stone portal with the symbol of fate carved in it in myriad languages. 

 Aethramyr let out a low whistle, then said “Right. Everyone out. We’re going back to Nightfang Spire.”


----------



## dravot

Five hours in the emergency room hopped up on painkillers doesn't do much for one's critical thinking skills, even 24 hours later.

1) At the moment, it was all I had that would do serious damage to the oozes.
2) I healed Scorch the next round.
3) Whine, whine, whine.


----------



## LordVyreth

Zad said:
			
		

> Aethramyr let out a low whistle, then said “Right. Everyone out. We’re going back to Nightfang Spire.”




Hahahahaha!  Was that actually said?  And Dravot?  Spent time at the ER?  For kidney stones?!  And then went right back to game!?!  That's commitment.


----------



## dravot

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Hahahahaha!  Was that actually said?  And Dravot?  Spent time at the ER?  For kidney stones?!  And then went right back to game!?!  That's commitment.



Said ER visit was Thursday.  Game was Friday.  I didn't realize how fuzzy my head was until it was too late.  

I was pretty good early in the day, but as time wore on, critical thinking skills began to elude me, to Scorch's detriment.


----------



## Scorch

Heh... I did try to cast a fireball while blind at one set of oozes (they were splitting up as we hacked at them) and totally missed and instead got another set further down the pit so it all worked out I guess...

Scorch


----------



## Aethramyr

Oh, yeah, worked out well...

The Night wasn't the most stellar example of Paladinhood...

1. Wisdom drain. The first one wasn't so bad, since I still could cast restoration. The 2nd one took care of that, however. Dravot had to get involved.

2. Fighting the Cubes. wich consisted of:
  a. Getting bludgeoned and Caught as soon as I poked my head above the wall. 
  b. Fighting my way out of said cube, to have a Wile E. Coyote realization that the cube was the only thing holding me to / on the wall Resulting in
  c. 40 ft drop. Nothing major. still embaressing. Of course, the 2 new cubes created couldn't hold the wall for the moment either, so they were down in the pit with me. Leading to...
  d. Now let's see...what was that message before this one? Something about:







> (Scorch) Heh... I did try to cast a fireball while blind at one set of oozes (they were splitting up as we hacked at them) and totally missed and instead got another set further down the pit so it all worked out I guess...




Can you guess wich Set he was referring too? 

Thankfully, Kayleigh left this bit out of the official record. History gets written by the winners and all that.

Aethramyr.


----------



## dravot

Aethramyr said:
			
		

> Oh, yeah, worked out well...
> 
> The Night wasn't the most stellar example of Paladinhood...
> 
> 1. Wisdom drain. The first one wasn't so bad, since I still could cast restoration. The 2nd one took care of that, however. Dravot had to get involved.
> 
> (SNIP)
> 
> Thankfully, Kayleigh left this bit out of the official record. History gets written by the winners and all that.
> 
> Aethramyr.



You left out the part about failing your save vs. stunning fist!


----------



## Aethramyr

Well, that was also one of the wisdom drains, so that part never actually made it to Aethramyrs long-term memory...but sure,

1b Failed the save against the alip's stunning fist attack.


----------



## WizarDru

Since I am apparently unable to actually kill Aethramyr, I'll just humiliate him, apparently.


----------



## Aethramyr

Actually, I can, well, live with that...


----------



## Greybar

I like the fact that you've worked the Tomb into your game world.  It's a pretty high-level thing to begin with (what 15-18th recommended or something?) but what it takes to boost it up another 7-10 levels will be fun to look for.

For instance: Stunning Fist? So those alips had monk levels or something?

(edit: okay, some of that is more appropriate to a Rogue's Gallery thread.
I found the thread with the SSoM PCs, but I'm still looking for the beastie thread.
I *know* I remember there being one...)


----------



## dravot

Greybar said:
			
		

> I like the fact that you've worked the Tomb into your game world.  It's a pretty high-level thing to begin with (what 15-18th recommended or something?) but what it takes to boost it up another 7-10 levels will be fun to look for.
> 
> For instance: Stunning Fist? So those alips had monk levels or something?
> 
> (edit: okay, some of that is more appropriate to a Rogue's Gallery thread.
> I found the thread with the SSoM PCs, but I'm still looking for the beastie thread.
> I *know* I remember there being one...)



Yes, the alips had monk levels.  Imagine our surprise when we found that out.


----------



## WizarDru

dravot said:
			
		

> Yes, the alips had monk levels.  Imagine our surprise when we found that out.




The allips were 10th level monks, in addition to being advanced in hit dice. They were effectively CR 21, iirc, but they didn't get all the feats they should have (in particular, some of the Eberron monk feats they should have had, due to my failure to forward the correct versions to my home address), which is why they were considerably less effective than they might have been.

When I have a chance, I'll post their stats to the thread that must not be named.  Mind you, no one batted an eye when they encountered a vampire monk in the lobby.


----------



## dravot

WizarDru said:
			
		

> The allips were 10th level monks, in addition to being advanced in hit dice. They were effectively CR 21, iirc, but they didn't get all the feats they should have (in particular, some of the Eberron monk feats they should have had, due to my failure to forward the correct versions to my home address), which is why they were considerably less effective than they might have been.
> 
> When I have a chance, I'll post their stats to the thread that must not be named.  Mind you, no one batted an eye when they encountered a vampire monk in the lobby.



I'm not sure that we knew that it was a monk.  I guess we could have had the dust analyzed.


----------



## Zad

> Quote:
> Originally Posted by *Zad*
> _ Aethramyr let out a low whistle, then said “Right. Everyone out. We’re going back to Nightfang Spire.”_
> 
> 
> 
> Hahahahaha!  Was that actually said?




No. That was just me looking for a way to tie it up into something that resembled an ending.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

It just amazes me that it took so long to go through 2 rooms.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Aethramyr said:
			
		

> Oh, yeah, worked out well...
> 
> The Night wasn't the most stellar example of Paladinhood...
> 
> 1. Wisdom drain. The first one wasn't so bad, since I still could cast restoration. The 2nd one took care of that, however. Dravot had to get involved.
> 
> 2. Fighting the Cubes. wich consisted of:
> a. Getting bludgeoned and Caught as soon as I poked my head above the wall.
> b. Fighting my way out of said cube, to have a Wile E. Coyote realization that the cube was the only thing holding me to / on the wall Resulting in
> c. 40 ft drop. Nothing major. still embaressing. Of course, the 2 new cubes created couldn't hold the wall for the moment either, so they were down in the pit with me. Leading to...
> d. Now let's see...what was that message before this one? Something about:
> 
> Can you guess wich Set he was referring too?
> 
> Thankfully, Kayleigh left this bit out of the official record. History gets written by the winners and all that.
> 
> Aethramyr.




*Welcome to MY world.*


----------



## WizarDru

Zad said:
			
		

> No. That was just me looking for a way to tie it up into something that resembled an ending.




I remember looking at faces around the table while I was reading the description for the room of the prophets, and the reactions both to the text and the picture that was facing you as I read it.  I think that quote summed up the mood in the room pretty well, really.


----------



## Zad

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> Aethramyr said:
> 
> 
> 
> 
> Thankfully, Kayleigh left this bit out of the official record. History gets written by the winners and all that.
> 
> Aethramyr.
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> *Welcome to MY world.*
Click to expand...



Now that's just untrue. I would never omit anything that entertaining where Bolo was involved. The readers would be disappointed and all 

Some readers might wonder if I make up some of Bolo's antics to enhance the story. As an author, I have no reservations about doing such a thing, but I never have yet. First, nothing I imagined could be as amsuing as the real thing, and second, with Bolo around, you never have to. 

Some days this stuff just writes itself


----------



## Argent Silvermage

LOL! Unfortunatly I as a player have this knack for attracting the strangest things to happen. It is true that Bolo is on a wild ride with the whole getting eaten thing, but Bolo is not the only character that has been the "chaos magnet" that I played.

In an old campaign of Wizardru's I played an Elven mage/druid type character named Pharon. He was befriended by this weird totaly obnoxious white dog/fox creature that caused no end of mischief. Pharon also for the longest time only spoke through his fellow elf Alvarion (my best friend's ranger character) while on a scouting mission in an abandoned building Pharon just happens to say in elven "There are humans here? We haven't eaten any humans in a while!" totally as a joke between the two of them (as they of course didn't want to harm the humans) well the humans spoke elven and it started a battle between the two elves and the humans they were trying to protect.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

I want my due. That's my line of work!

http://www.giantitp.com/cgi-bin/GiantITP/ootscript


----------



## WizarDru

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> I want my due. That's my line of work!




I think I can speak for the party, who would probably ask: "_Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?_"

Here's a permanent link to that strip, btw (as the above link will point to a different strip, come monday):
http://www.giantitp.com/cgi-bin/GiantITP/ootscript?SK=192


----------



## Zad

*A Fool's Errand - Chapter 5*

*A Fool’s Errand – Chapter 5*

*OOC Notes:*
Exp is 2400 for 24th, 1830 for 25th.

*Handy Combat Tip:*
As characters go up in level, the game becomes increasingly complex. More magic items, more special abilities, more spell effects, more options, and most of all, more hit points. All of these things add up to combats that can take quite a while. There’s a number of good techniques for speeding things along and I’m not going to have a generic discussion here. But there is one tip I’ve not seen mentioned that we’ve used more lately, and I think it’s a good one.

*Know when enough is enough.* A lot of combats have the same general formula or tempo. Things begin hectic and confused. For us, usually it looks like the monsters have an advantage. Then, as the PC’s understand more what they’re dealing with, they get their game on, defenses are raised, and the damage starts flying. The odds tip in favor of the PC’s and their advantage escalates. Then there’s the cleanup phase – at some point the monsters no longer have much likelihood of causing serious harm, and it’s a matter of working through their last bit of hit points. If you’re in this phase, and you know you’re in this phase, you have to ask yourself: Why bother? As the DM, you should feel free to handwave the last bit of combat, and assume it’s a foregone conclusion. Sure there are story-point combats against major villains, and you want to play those out. But if it’s just another room’s worth of encounter, then what do you gain by working it out to the last hit point? Not much, and you can eat a lot of time doing it.

 To illustrate my point, let’s use one of this week’s combats. The party was attacked by a group of four hellwasp swarms. Personally, swarms scare the beejezus out of me. Partly because they’re hard to deal with, and partly because I just don’t understand them (not very familiar with those rules). So at the start, there’s the “scream-n-panic” phase of things. We’re getting a sense of their special attacks, we’re figuring out their resistances (ok fire is resisted partially, cold is not, etc.) and we’re learning about their DR (bludgeoning full, slash and pierce do half damage.) This is the first 20% of the overall combat time roughly. We react to what we learn – use different elemental spells, switch to blunt weapons, Kayleigh casts a spell to convert arrows to bludgeoning damage, etc. 

 This is another 20% of combat time. Then we start doing some more serious damage. Some swarms start dying, all of them are damaged. This is another 40% roughly. So at this point, two out of four swarms are dead (i.e. dispersed). The other two are damaged. The party is up to speed, and not taking a lot of damage from the swarm attacks. And Wizardru says “Ok, that’s good. We’ll just hand wave the rest.” And we moved on. Sure we could have finished off the last two by rolling dice. We’d have taken a tiny bit more damage (which would have been healed anyway) but it would have eaten up more of the evening with little real gain. 

 Thus ends this week’s high level tip.

*Loot:*
Gems 15x1000gp
Stand 1000gp
Throne 5000gp
Book on apotheosis
Necromantic book that makes people turn into undead
Vacuous grimoire
Scroll of miracle, cure moderate wounds, speak w/ dead, spell immunity
Scroll of mind blank x2
Tome of understanding +2

*This Week’s Adventure:*
Slowly our minds began to get a grip on the situation over the babbling and howling of the prophets. I stared at the hourglass above (the most troubling thing here I think in retrospect) and figured we had around half an hour so we could at least try to investigate a little. 

 “Investigation” in this case was akin to a blind man investigating a room by walking around hoping to stumble into something. Scorch tried to speak to one prophet, who turned out to be a doppelganger shifted shape several times, often with some kind of mortal wound. Bolo recognized one of the prophets – Mad Glidia, a strange witch of the northern steppes who vanished forty years ago. It was starting to look as though someone had collected the greatest prophets of the ages here. Most of them had been rendered blind and those that could still see were usually mute.

 The portals themselves were something one would typically construct to channel divinatory energies, and let those passing through be better prepared to meet the fate the diviner has foreseen.

 One of the other prophets was a satyr who read the dregs of ale for his foretellings. Bolo borrowed some elven wine from Aethramyr and poured it in the satyr’s mug. The satyr took out one of his own horns (no longer in his head) and stabbed his own arm with it, then began scrawling on the floor in blood. He drew some kind of elephant, standing on something. A log? Then flames all around.

 Dravot attempted to heal the insanity of one lady prophet, but she was no better for it. She screamed “Acererack’s bane is true death!”

 I was half expecting to hear “The bargain must be kept!” next.

 We received various other semi-coherent tidbits.

 “Beware the raven’s maw. And for that matter, also its caw.”

 “Acererack. He always watches. He always watches. Even now…”

 “Stones of darkness be destroyed but stones of crimson try to avoid.” This prompted us to destroy the black globe recovered from the oozes. The thing shattered and released a wave of negative energy in the process that turns out to be rather inconvenient. [Negative levels all round.]

 Our time was down to about ten minutes left. I drank the tea of a minotaur prophet (from his horn) and offered him the horn to read. He said “Up is down, left is right. In that chamber, mundane is might.”

 I shrugged, and walked through the minotaur’s portal. It was my night for impulsiveness it seemed.

 There was a rush of cold, and a flash in my mind. I felt the image of the hourglass imprint on me. I felt my body on fire for a moment. Then I was back in the circular room. I shrugged, and waited for the others. It didn’t take long before they returned as well, each with a similar experience.

 [OOC: After a d20 roll, I was told for the next 24 hours I would have a +4 insight bonus to AC against AOO’s. I replied “Wow. That’s about as useful as a feat from a splatbook.” Other party members received different effects except Dravot who was the only one unlucky enough to get a negative effect.]

 Once we were all back in the room, we continued checking doors. The last door opened on another passageway, and lacking other choices we explored it. The long hallway came to an area with 7 sets of statues. One was warlords, another timid halflings, then hideous demons, frail wizards, and so on. Some of them were labeled - one halfing was marked “Dydd the Coward”, while one paladin was marked “Maleva, Demonstalker.” The paladins were in the service of Pelor, but under investigation by Valanthe, the plaster fell away and symbols of Therizdun were revealed. 

 Valanthe was sure there was some sort of trap on the statues but every time she thought it was disarmed, it would return. This went on for a while until Scorch uncovered a fairly mundane enchantment designed to mislead a rogue in this way. Frankly such a mundane deception was the last thing anyone expected here.

 Beyond the double doors the statues guarded, the corridor went left and right. One door had a relief of a face with deep holes at the mouth and eyes, as if to pour something out. The other door was blank.

 Behind the door with the face was a room. There was a bone throne with gold inlay. On its seat was a stand with an opalescent white globe. On each side stood two large shambling fleshy creatures – surely flesh golems. Each carried a black globe in its hands.

 Valanthe was disarming the _Glyphs of warding_ on the floor when the golems started moving. I was covering them and fired one arrow at each, hoping to slow them down. But that’s not the result I got.

 The golems tore apart easily. The flesh was a mere shell of skin stitched together. This had two results. First, the black globes fell to the floor and broke, releasing a thin black grease all over the floor. Second, the hellwasps that were animating the shells poured out. And they were angry.

 I dropped a fireball in the room and Valanthe moved out and closed the door. Of course now the purpose of the holes in the door was very clear, and I felt silly to have ignored my first impulse to block them up. At least the hallway was better than being on the grease.

 The swarms poured all over us. Blunt weapons seemed to have the most effect and we each took steps to start using the appropriate weapons while spells started wearing down the swarms. Swarms are problematic to deal with but we were able to get our feet under us and start wearing them down. Fortunately their stings were only moderate wounds and we could withstand them. It took us some time but we got the situation under control, dispersed the swarms and repaired the damage.

 The milky white globe is not magical and about a foot across. The stand is actually of some worth, and the bone throne as well. (Bolo amuses himself by cramming it into his portable hole, determined to take it with us.) And there were some inlaid gems that Valanthe took great interest in. 

 While I was holding the milky globe, there was just something odd about it. It was an odd weight and off balance. I was sure it was hollow and there was something inside.

 So I dropped it. It was, after all, my night for impulsiveness.

 [OOC: Cut to slow motion shots of Scorch and Valanthe yelling “Nnnnoooooooo!” Valanthe (the player) had gone upstairs during the investigation phase taking fresh cookies out of the oven. She had just come back down as I was dropping the globe. This conversation occurred.

 Kayleigh: I drop the globe.

 Scorch: EEEEEK! I dim door out!

 Valanthe: I catch it.

 Kayleigh: (pouting) You can’t catch it. You’re busy with the gems.

 Valanthe: (eyes lighting up) There’s gems??

 My point was made.  ]

 The ball hit the floor and broke into a few pieces, but nothing else happened. Inside was the crossguard part of a sword with two skulls on it. It looked as if an adamantine longsword of some power had been broken into several pieces. This piece had the crossguard and part of the blade. It still retained a powerful magic aura, but seemed to be neither good nor evil. On the blade were runes of two letters. “TR”

 Scorch and I looked at each other nodding “True Death.” Well at least that was making sense now. 

 The other door lead to a well stocked library. Niches in all of the stone walls went from floor to ceiling, filled with old texts and scrolls. A solid stone table and stools squatted in the center of the room and four pillars supported the ceiling. A shrouded librarian shuffled around the room, bent and clearly lame. And lurking on the ceiling, out of view to all but the most careful inspection, was some kind of fleshy golem with spidery legs and pincers.

 I covered it while Valanthe entered, determined to fire as soon as it twitched.

 It twitched.

 The glitter burst all around it, and it was now clearly visible. It didn’t move from the ceiling; it could easily reach to the floor. It snatched up Aethramyr even as we were attacking from all sides. I’m not sure if it was going to eat him, or even why it would want to, but it didn’t survive long enough to try it.

 When I looked over, I saw the librarian was destroyed also. I looked at Dravot, who just shrugged.

 It took the better part of an hour to search the library thoroughly but the results were worth it. One tattered scrap of paper said the following:

_The Rhyme of Shards:_
_
The shards of True Death are key,_
_Scattered about on levels three._
_Encased in a crystal prison without a door,_
_But only the first, there are five more._
_I hold the next shard of True Death, _
_But beware my fiery breath._
_This shard is as safe as can be,_
_Hidden behind the reverse of a party._
_Stuck fast is this shard,_
_Removing it is torturously hard._
_Beyond the constant crimson drops, _
_Cloaked in darkness this shard sits._
_Lest all hope fades,_
_Guarded by gold, _
_Solve the riddle of the swords,_
_The last shard behold._


----------



## LordVyreth

Ouch, a riddle.  This thing could take a while...  

And what was with the splatbook feat-hate, anyway?

The library monsters sounded interesting.  Do you know what the deal with the librarian or the golem was?  And for that matter, if the librarian was evil?


----------



## WizarDru

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> And for that matter, if the librarian was evil?




The golem was part of a larger pattern that will become obvious, soon enough.

*Kayleigh*: "What about the librarian?"
*Dravot*: "_It's gone._" [flicks hand]
*Aethramyr*: "Is it evil?"
*Dravot*: "_Doesn't matter...*IT'S GONE*._"

Dravot has a sometimes unreasoning hatred of the undead.  The Libractus was imolated within seconds of meeting his gaze.  And yes, it was evil.  Not that that would have mattered.  For the record, it was a CR 1/2.  Not everything is as it appears within the Tomb, as the players are discovering.

The golem was an Advanced Flesh Golem with choker arms and a Cloak of Arachnida sewn into it's skin, advanced all the way to CR21, iirc.  In game terms, he was a speed bump.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

What no one mentioned was that the flesh golem was in the library and the library was exceedingly dry. if we used fire in it we would have immolated the entire room and all of it's contents. It would have sucked to destroy all of the most needed writings. 
Bolo had summoned a Phamtom Bear and was just done the summons when the golem was destroyed. The bear simply looked at Bolo and thanked him for wasting it's time. I_ just can't win._


----------



## dravot

WizarDru said:
			
		

> The golem was part of a larger pattern that will become obvious, soon enough.
> 
> *Kayleigh*: "What about the librarian?"
> *Dravot*: "_It's gone._" [flicks hand]
> *Aethramyr*: "Is it evil?"
> *Dravot*: "_Doesn't matter...*IT'S GONE*._"
> 
> Dravot has a sometimes unreasoning hatred of the undead.  The Libractus was imolated within seconds of meeting his gaze.  And yes, it was evil.  Not that that would have mattered.  For the record, it was a CR 1/2.  Not everything is as it appears within the Tomb, as the players are discovering.



It is not unreasoning.  It's quite reasoned.  It's undead...therefore it must not be any more.  It's not that hard.

I think that to date, Dravot has only let one undead live, but warned him that the next time they crossed paths, the undead would regret it.


----------



## WizarDru

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> What no one mentioned was that the flesh golem was in the library and the library was exceedingly dry. if we used fire in it we would have immolated the entire room and all of it's contents. It would have sucked to destroy all of the most needed writings.
> Bolo had summoned a Phamtom Bear and was just done the summons when the golem was destroyed. The bear simply looked at Bolo and thanked him for wasting it's time. I_ just can't win._




Actually, he was very appreciative that you'd summoned him just to be friendly, and not send him hurtling into suicidal battle like all those other casters do. 

Of the two goals for the tomb that the players have, the first one has now been achieved.  The second one will prove....somewhat more difficult.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

WizarDru said:
			
		

> The golem was an Advanced Flesh Golem with choker arms and a Cloak of Arachnida sewn into it's skin, advanced all the way to CR21, iirc.  In game terms, he was a speed bump.



Were we able to retrieve the cloak? I forget. If so I could use it.


----------



## WizarDru

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> Were we able to retrieve the cloak? I forget. If so I could use it.




Actually, no one really inspected the body to discover that fact, but it wouldn't have been removable, or I would have pointed it out during the extensive library search.  It's actually sewn into it's skin and when you killed the golem, you destroyed the cloak in the process.


----------



## LordVyreth

dravot said:
			
		

> It is not unreasoning.  It's quite reasoned.  It's undead...therefore it must not be any more.  It's not that hard.
> 
> I think that to date, Dravot has only let one undead live, but warned him that the next time they crossed paths, the undead would regret it.




What about those 3-in-1 undead the church of Wee Jas gave you a while back?  Granted, I think most of them died anyway, but from the bad guys.  Besides, don't you have some semi-friendly undead in your family tree?


----------



## WizarDru

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> What about those 3-in-1 undead the church of Wee Jas gave you a while back? Granted, I think most of them died anyway, but from the bad guys. Besides, don't you have some semi-friendly undead in your family tree?




Well, I don't recall how much of this has bled through to the story hour:  in the case of his undead relatives, they have two statuses:  Will-Be-Killed or Will-Be-Saved.  Chavram: WBK.  Father and Brother: WBS, or WBK if that proves impossible.  There is ample evidence that Dravot can restore his brother and father to humanity....Chavram?  Well, he's...complicated.

As for the servants of Wee Jas: the first time they encountered the first tatterdamelion, Dravot blasted him, and prepared to destroy him if he even THOUGHT of being evil.  A range limitation and curiousity are the only things that allowed him to "live" long enough to explain himself.  As for the rest, they were an expedient ally that Dravot expected to have their numbers reduced without any cost to his town...and for the time being, they've behaved themselves.  The Living Saint's wrath is a terrible thing, and any intelligent undead on the prime fear his name, unless they've been locked in a tomb.


----------



## Aethramyr

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> Were we able to retrieve the cloak? I forget. If so I could use it.




I'm going to regret asking this, but why would someone who can turn into something that can fly, let alone turn into an arachnid, need the cloak of arachnida?


Edit: Know what? I take it back. Don't want to know the logic. [closes the bolonomicon...]


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Aethramyr said:
			
		

> I'm going to regret asking this, but why would someone who can turn into something that can fly, let alone turn into an arachnid, need the cloak of arachnida?
> 
> 
> Edit: Know what? I take it back. Don't want to know the logic. [closes the bolonomicon...]




Now THERE'S your level of alienist!   
Actually I was going to give it to Windsaber. "Ninja Lion death strike from above!"


----------



## Aethramyr

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> Now THERE'S your level of alienist!
> Actually I was going to give it to Windsaber. "Ninja Lion death strike from above!"





Hmm...an interesting question...Does having met Bolo solve one of the requirement for becoming an alienist.


----------



## LordVyreth

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Well, I don't recall how much of this has bled through to the story hour:  in the case of his undead relatives, they have two statuses:  Will-Be-Killed or Will-Be-Saved.  Chavram: WBK.  Father and Brother: WBS, or WBK if that proves impossible.  There is ample evidence that Dravot can restore his brother and father to humanity....Chavram?  Well, he's...complicated.
> 
> As for the servants of Wee Jas: the first time they encountered the first tatterdamelion, Dravot blasted him, and prepared to destroy him if he even THOUGHT of being evil.  A range limitation and curiousity are the only things that allowed him to "live" long enough to explain himself.  As for the rest, they were an expedient ally that Dravot expected to have their numbers reduced without any cost to his town...and for the time being, they've behaved themselves.  The Living Saint's wrath is a terrible thing, and any intelligent undead on the prime fear his name, unless they've been locked in a tomb.




Interesting.  Do you have the Book of Exalted Deeds and/or use the Deathless?  I was just wondering if you exercised that option and how it would effect this aspect of the campaign.


----------



## LordVyreth

Aethramyr said:
			
		

> Hmm...an interesting question...Does having met Bolo solve one of the requirement for becoming an alienist.




"Do you want to take levels in alienist?"
"No, why?"
"Because asking that question is a good way to start that path."
"Asking if meeting Bolo would solve the requirement for becoming an alienist is solving the requirement for becoming an alienist?"
"Makes sense to me!"


----------



## LordVyreth

Just offering you guys a bump.  Has the game been postponed lately or is Zad just busy?  If the latter, I wouldn't mind some brief info on how things have gone since then.  On that note, how far into the module are you, assuming you played since the last update?


----------



## Argent Silvermage

I thought you  all knew. Wizardru and Valenthe have been on vacation. They came back Sunday. Hopefuly we'll game soon.


----------



## Zad

We did a playtest of parts of a module this past weekend, so no action today I'm afraid.

It was rather amusing - we'd play half- to three-quarters through an encounter, then go "ok good enough" and move on.


----------



## WizarDru

Due to the holiday, impending vacations and a really bad illness, we played Barakus this weekend.  The Endhome Six encountered their first Hill Giant.   Super hella-fun.  And we learned there's such a thing as being TOO good at bluffing.


----------



## dravot

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Due to the holiday, impending vacations and a really bad illness, we played Barakus this weekend.  The Endhome Six encountered their first Hill Giant.   Super hella-fun.  And we learned there's such a thing as being TOO good at bluffing.



Meh.  Don't make me regret missing last night's session.


----------



## Scorch

dravot said:
			
		

> Meh.  Don't make me regret missing last night's session.




Well, your character was desperately needed during the combat so you got full XP for it.


----------



## pogre

Scorch said:
			
		

> Well, your character was desperately needed during the combat so you got full XP for it.




Soft, very soft...


----------



## Argent Silvermage

WOW! That was a great combat. Dru did a total Bolo move and in true Bolo fashion it backfired on him. *snif* I'm so proud of him! One hill giant, a goblin sorcerer on a flying broom, and a troop of Orcs against the 7 of us (Including Keldin). Miccah, adson and Aistlin almost died in that battle and Ravenspur almost became a Giants hand puppet. Oh and real LOOT!


----------



## WizarDru

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> WOW! That was a great combat. Dru did a total Bolo move and in true Bolo fashion it backfired on him. *snif* I'm so proud of him! One hill giant, a goblin sorcerer on a flying broom, and a troop of Orcs against the 7 of us (Including Keldin). Miccah, adson and Aistlin almost died in that battle and Ravenspur almost became a Giants hand puppet. Oh and real LOOT!




'Bolo moment'?  How do you figure?  That was a Ravenspur moment, baby.  I stunned the Hill Giant for two rounds, and nobody was in any danger, not even Ravenspur.  Hell, I was playing that big ape like a fiddle, and could have done it for another six hours or so.  All hail the Bluff skill and the Art of the Lie!


----------



## the Jester

Any news?


----------



## WizarDru

Sorry, we know it's been a little while.  The main game is currently on break, as Valanthe and I just returned from a week-long vacation and Dravot is still on his own.  Zad is at an SCA event this weekend, as well.

Instead, we ran another installment of the Endhome Six (plus one), Scorch's Lost City of Barakus game [in which several important linkages were made and storylines tied off...and the setup for a huge pitched battle may have been set].  We got 200 xp, which was very offputting for those poor schnooks who only need 350 to reach 5th level.  

btw, Scorch informed us he has a storyhour in the works for it.  I can't wait.


----------



## Len

Tip: If a session seems to be a little light on XP, on the way home from the adventure one character should say "Stop! I hear goblins!" This will prompt an encounter to make up for the XP shortfall.


----------



## LordVyreth

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Sorry, we know it's been a little while.  The main game is currently on break, as Valanthe and I just returned from a week-long vacation and Dravot is still on his own.  Zad is at an SCA event this weekend, as well.
> 
> Instead, we ran another installment of the Endhome Six (plus one), Scorch's Lost City of Barakus game [in which several important linkages were made and storylines tied off...and the setup for a huge pitched battle may have been set].  We got 200 xp, which was very offputting for those poor schnooks who only need 350 to reach 5th level.
> 
> btw, Scorch informed us he has a storyhour in the works for it.  I can't wait.




In these situations, I like to give XP for back stories, character info, or some other stuff of that nature.  But I think your group tends to give that stuff away for free...


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Looks like we're playing the SSoM Game Friday. Yeah! Bolo needs to smash some undead.


----------



## WizarDru

Yes, that's right kids....it's GAME NIGHT.

But I know what you're thinking: "_Dru, it'll be DAYS before we can see what's going on!_"

Not so, mes amis!  As long as you're not a player, you can shuffle off to the thread of EVIL, and see what lies in store for the party tonight.  Mwa-ha-ha-HA!!!


----------



## Argent Silvermage

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Yes, that's right kids....it's GAME NIGHT.
> 
> But I know what you're thinking: "_Dru, it'll be DAYS before we can see what's going on!_"
> 
> Not so, mes amis!  As long as you're not a player, you can shuffle off to the thread of EVIL, and see what lies in store for the party tonight.  Mwa-ha-ha-HA!!!



Woo Hoo! The thread of evil! I Can't wait to   go   Um, Mr. Paragon Elder Red Dragon abysal templated beast of legend... May I get past to see the Thread of EVIL? No not even a little? I'll let you nibble on my toes. I just baked them into graham cracker shoes, thier Honey glazed. Dang. Wizardru... you're mean.


----------



## WizarDru

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> Woo Hoo! The thread of evil! I Can't wait to go Um, Mr. Paragon Elder Red Dragon abysal templated beast of legend... May I get past to see the Thread of EVIL? No not even a little? I'll let you nibble on my toes. I just baked them into graham cracker shoes, thier Honey glazed. Dang. Wizardru... you're mean.




You think I'm mean NOW?  Wait 'till room 1-9.


_hee hee hee hee hee hee


_ *Must Kill The Paladin.  Must Kill The Paladin.  Must Kill The Paladin.  Must Kill the Paladin.*


----------



## Argent Silvermage

WizarDru said:
			
		

> You think I'm mean NOW?  Wait 'till room 1-9.
> 
> 
> _hee hee hee hee hee hee
> 
> 
> _ *Must Kill The Paladin.  Must Kill The Paladin.  Must Kill The Paladin.  Must Kill the Paladin.*



Come on J, Let him kill you, just once. 
Throw the man a bone.


----------



## pogre

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Yes, that's right kids....it's GAME NIGHT.
> 
> But I know what you're thinking: "_Dru, it'll be DAYS before we can see what's going on!_"
> 
> Not so, mes amis!  As long as you're not a player, you can shuffle off to the thread of EVIL, and see what lies in store for the party tonight.  Mwa-ha-ha-HA!!!




Looks like fun! For Dru that is!


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Rock breaks bolo. rock bad. all Scorch's fault.


----------



## dravot

Collect the whole set!  Trade 'em with your friends!


----------



## WizarDru

Do A Little Dance!!!


----------



## Aethramyr

Yeah, well, since you all asked so nicely...


----------



## thatdarncat

What, 'dru gets to kill the paladin?


----------



## Aethramyr

If you can call it that. Kinda anti-climatic, really. Paladins shouldn't go out like that, but hey. it happens.


----------



## thatdarncat

*blink* so Zad, storyhour will be up when?


----------



## Lefferts

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Do A Little Dance!!!




Sing a little song - Kill paladins tonight! (or last night as the case may be)


----------



## dravot

thatdarncat said:
			
		

> *blink* so Zad, storyhour will be up when?



Usually the following Monday, depending on what's going on at his job.


----------



## dravot

Aethramyr said:
			
		

> If you can call it that. Kinda anti-climatic, really. Paladins shouldn't go out like that, but hey. it happens.



Dude!  When you reach epic levels, your saves should be higher than your character level.

Just sayin' is all.


----------



## Aethramyr

What? First death at lvl 25, you can't argue with the results...

Just sayin' is all...


----------



## Zad

The man has a point.


----------



## Zad

*A Fool's Errand - Chapter 6*

*A Fool’s Errand – Chapter 6*

*OOC Notes:*

   Exp: For 24th, 1600. For 25th, 1200.

*Loot:*

                   4 rubies, 200gp ea
+3 brilliant energy shortsword
+2 small metal shield
+2 chain shirt
Wand of owl’s wisdom, 17 charges
Full plate – Chaosbox - +3, +6 profane bonus to wisdom.
Shield – Chaosplate - +2 heavy steel shield, Fire resist 20,
Periapt of wisdom +6
Figurine of wondrous power – Onyx dog

*This Week’s Adventure:*

   It finally happened. The best of us has fallen. Aethramyr is dead.

 It’s remarkable partly because of the sheer uniqueness of it, and partly because of outside of that, it was pretty much a non-event. When I say “Aethramyr has fallen”, it’s more literal than one might think. Yes, he died. But here it was more like he fell. As in “tripped over a loose flagstone, fell down, got up, brushed himself off and said ‘Hm, I should watch out for that.’” The elf was dead for what was, I believe, a grand total of five minutes, and four of that was just moving him away from the altar. After he sat up and shook his head, he looked at me and said “When we get out of here, we’ll have to organize the wake.” I smiled and handed him my flask, and only after a long swig did we move on.

   But I’m getting ahead of myself. 

 After searching the library, we were out of directions to go. We went back to the octagonal room, thinking it was perhaps some kind of elevator as well but after a half an hour, we were convinced it held no other secrets. The only other area we hadn’t fully checked was the room full of mad prophets. The timer forced us to depart and left the question of what would happen when time ran out. So that’s where we went.

 We spent some time at the door thinking, and finally re-entered the room. The thirty minute hourglass again appeared. The prophets were about as helpful as last time. We tried to ask various prophets which one might be able to help us, and a typical response was

 “All the prophets paint the way. The man of green…the man of blood…beneath the heart. All the prophets paint the way.”

 We turned our attention to seeing if we could get one of them to say something coherent. Scorch was able to break the insanity imprisoning one of them, and his screams immediately changed in tone. This likely had something to do with the fact that his leg was fixed to the floor with a huge spike. Once that was resolved, he was markedly calmer and more helpful.

 His name is Lord Sorden, a prophet from Nyrond who disappeared some 400 years ago. He was now sane and reasonable and still held his prophetic gifts. We explained to him where he was and he asked the expected questions. Then his gifts began to show him things.

 “I see your purpose takes you to the green man. The man of blood,” he said.

 “And how do we get there?” Dravot asked.

 “I see… blood that is not blood and the man who… I see a shadow that is green and I see a shadow of blood but neither are truly anything but shadows of the man. You burned down the tree of the green man.”

 I looked at my fellows. “There’s only one tree we’ve burned down, a few years ago as I recall. Gulthias.”

 “Yes!” Lord Sorden said. “That name speaks to me. He is the man of green and the man of blood. You burned his tree and drained his blood. You broke his heart.”

 “Actually we did not defeat him,” I said. “We never faced him.”

 “Well, there was that copy we fought near the map,” Dravot pondered.

 “You defeated… you sent him to autumn. You killed him. You killed the green man, but you did not defeat the man of blood. You merely drained him. He has become shadow.”

 “So does one of these portals lead out?” Scorch asked, eyeing the hourglass.

 “No,” Sorden said. “No this is the past.” He was quite lucid and remarkably helpful, within the limits of what his gifts would show him. I was wondering how we would get him out of this place.

 “So where does our future lead?”  Scorch asked.

 “To the dark heart.”

 “And how do we get there?” 

 “You must obtain True Death,” Sorden said.  I had heard this song before, and suddenly felt we were nowhere.

 We concluded the only thing to do was wait for the timer to run out and see what happened. I spoke to some more prophets to pass the time but their ravings were much the same. I could not even begin to fathom what purpose Acererack would have in gathering them.

 Aethramyr, while waiting, wondered if we were able to leave the room the way we came in. Out of curiosity and not expecting anything unpleasant, he stepped back into the hallway. 

 And disappeared.

 In case you were wondering, no, this is not the point where he dies.

 As soon as he winked out, I muttered an un-lady-like word or two, and stepped out after him. I appeared next to him in a new hallway. It was narrow and stretched out into darkness. The walls were rough stone and worn with age – rather different that the stone work we’d seen in the tomb so far. Sludge was seeping through cracks that scattered in delicate webs through the stone, forming puddles here and there, and the place smelled faintly of perfume.

 There was an inscription on the floor but I didn’t recognize the language. And then Scorch appeared with Bolo soon after. Scorch looked at the inscription and recognized the infernal script.

 “It says ‘Temur’”. And he disappeared. Back to the prophet room it seemed, because he returned a second later. “Right,” he said.

 The timer was due to run out soon but we still didn’t know what would happen. Valanthe and Dravot were still in the prophet room, but we weren’t entirely sure why they didn’t follow. Eventually they did appear however (the timer seems to force you to this place).  But for some reason Lord Sorden did not appear. Probably just as well for his sake.

 The hallway was black to the limit of my vision so I moved down slightly. As I did, I stepped on a pressure plate that was fairly obvious once you saw it. I stepped off and nothing bad happened though, and flew another few feet forward. The smell got stronger as I got closer. Sixty feet ahead the hall ended and there was a statue that was a crude depiction of Acererack himself. It was holding something that looked like a part of a sword blade, but it was far too large to be a fragment of True Death. The hallway was in poor repair and mildew marked the uneven tiles and ceiling cracks. 

 Someone asked why Valanthe wasn’t checking this hallway. I had a suspicion but I quickly consulted the riddle and it confirmed my memory. “In this case, there’s a good reason,” I said. And moved closer. There was a grating sound and the hand of the statue holding the blade began to move and grind. This produced a shower of sparks that sprayed onto the slime, which (as we guessed) ignited down the length of the hallway in a flash.

 Fiery breath. Got it.

 This was what we were expecting, and was why I was inching down the hall. Thanks to a trinket lifted from the Durance Vile, the fire couldn’t harm me. I fired at the statue but it didn’t have nearly the impact I was hoping for. Aethramyr closed in, and the fight began in earnest. As the statue moved, the pressure plate started to wiggle. Valanthe quickly held it with an immovable rod – we expected it would rise up from the floor and cut us off. It turned out that was not entirely accurate. Or even partially accurate.

 There was some kind of mechanism between the area the statue stood, the pressure plate, and the wall near where we arrived. And once the statue had moved fully, the wall collapsed on Scorch and Bolo.

 Mostly Bolo.

 [OOC: the amusing part here is that when placing ourselves on the map, Scorch and Bolo were at the back near this wall. And Scorch said “Hm, no I don’t like standing there.” And switched positions with Bolo. And five minutes later the wall collapsed, leading us to the positive conclusion that the universe has it in for Bolo.]

 The statue was slow but it hit very hard and after soundly pounding me, it was clear I couldn’t take much more of that abuse. Aethramyr stepped up in front of me, and bore the brunt of the punishment. The pounding of the fists was brutal, and in the narrow space the thing could hardly help but hit you. Aethramyr took hit after hit, returning each in kind. 

 But in case you were worried, this is not the point where Aethramyr died. The creature broke apart before it could do the job.

 We searched the rubble and the blade-fragment it was holding. It took some time but we realized that the part of True Death we needed was encased inside the larger blade the statue was holding. We checked that off our list and moved on. There was no apparent exit, but we did eventually find a large pit carpeted in poisoned spikes. Inside the pit was a small crawlway that lead to a hallway where chanting to Therizdun could be heard.

 We crept up and Valanthe peeked past the door. Beyond was a vaulted chamber fifty feet long and lit by flickering candles. The room was dominated by a large black altar at the far end, and of course the dozens of shadowy apparitions floating about the room. Four statues flanked the altar and behind it was a dessicated figure in shining armor wearing a white tabard depicting a set of scales. The symbol was perhaps of Pelor, or perhaps of Rao, god of balance. The armored figure was apparently a lich, so I quickly muttered an incantation to enchant my arrows. Unfortunately the lich heard something and silenced the chanting.

 Boot leather was then liberally applied to the door area, and Dravot destroyed the undead.

 Except that it didn’t work. The light sprang forth as usual, but then turned shadowy and the undead drank it in like nectar.

 “That’s not right,” he quipped.

 I was ready to fire and did so. The lich was struck soundly enough, but the many enchantments on my arrows were warped in flight, and in the end the lich just brushed the arrows away, barely inconvenienced.

 “The Scales will be balanced!!” it shrieked. And the statues groaned grudgingly to life and began moving towards us.

 This wouldn’t be the first time that quick thinking saved the day. Hopefully it won’t be the last. Today, it was Scorch’s turn to be both brilliant and quick to react. He dispelled the magic on the altar. Now at this point, Scorch is an Archmage, with a power and competency that places him on a very short list of people with that type of skill. And even so, the altar resisted him. It relented in whatever it was doing, but it wouldn’t last more than a few seconds, and Scorch said “It won’t hold long – act fast.”

 Dravot again destroyed the undead. This time everything worked as it should, and the apparitions faded away. I fired again at the lich, and he collapsed in one volley, rather to my surprise. 

 The statues turned out to just be animated stone and, not being rugs, were no threat.

 The altar on the other hand was a work of singular quality. Scorch stared at it, and examined it, careful not to touch it. He concluded it had the power of artifact quality, and was the Altar of Reverse Polarity. It would warp anything that came into its reach. Only by its suppression were we able to defeat the guardians so handily.

 Oh, and I should mention that it was in here that Aethramyr died. The lich cast a spell at him, and Aethramyr’s body was crushed by it. And he died. We took him back up to the hallway and Dravot brought him back to life.

 That isn’t to say he returned without… alterations. His skin had a more golden hue. And I don’t mean sunned – I mean metallic sparkling. The symbol of earth on his forehead was gone, and instead there was now a triangle. A similar triangle was on each palm. Even Shatterspike had been changed – no longer vitaesis, it was now isometril, with a triangle etched at the crossguard.

 We looked at the changes in total, shrugged, and moved on. Frankly we've been at this too long to get hung up on the little things.


 Unsurprisingly, there was a secret door behind the altar. The riddle is proving almost too easy to follow. Beyond the door was a long spiral staircase, and a corridor ending in a door, decorated with a large relief of a raven’s head.

 The Raven’s maw. As prophesized.


----------



## dravot

Random points between game night and the as-usual, well written story by Zad.

In no particular order:

1) Dravot and Valanthe believed that we needed to stay in the room with the timer running out in order to figure out how to move onward.  We wound up engaging in a contest of wills ("Go ahead and chicken out!"  - "No, after you!"), which is why we were there so long.

Zad accused us of breaking up the group in a dangerous location ("I know...lets all split up and search the cemetery!"), but I pointed out that Aethramyr did so by walking through the door without reaching group consensus.

It was that kind of night.  =)

2) Aethramyr was hit by an Implosion spell - as in 17th+ level cleric.  You can bet your bottom dollar that made me sit up and take notice.  The save was something like DC 25?  29?  Aethramyr rolled a '2' and got a total of 23.

3) It was actually me that pegged the altar as the source of the problem for the lich room.  When I become an evil lich, the source of that power will be in a random paver on the floor, hidden by various obscuring spells.  =)

4) I did a hastened turning, and wiped out almost all of the wraith thingies in one shot, followed up a repulsion spell.  The one remaning wraith thingy then did it's best mime-in-a-box imitation.


----------



## WizarDru

Zad said:
			
		

> The timer was due to run out soon but we still didn’t know what would happen. Valanthe and Dravot were still in the prophet room, but we weren’t entirely sure why they didn’t follow. Eventually they did appear however (the timer seems to force you to this place). But for some reason Lord Sorden did not appear. Probably just as well for his sake.




DM Note #1: Once the shard of True Death was recovered, the portals would allow passage beyond.  Prior to its retreival, attempting to leave the room by the entrance would result in automatic penalties, and a return to the 'wheel' room.



			
				Zad said:
			
		

> The statue was slow but it hit very hard and after soundly pounding me, it was clear I couldn’t take much more of that abuse. Aethramyr stepped up in front of me, and bore the brunt of the punishment. The pounding of the fists was brutal, and in the narrow space the thing could hardly help but hit you. Aethramyr took hit after hit, returning each in kind.




Doing more than 80 points a hit, in fact.  Heal spells flew.



			
				Zad said:
			
		

> We crept up and Valanthe peeked past the door.




DM Note #2: And by 'crept', he means 'rolled an 84' on Move Silently and a 'rolled an 85' on Hide.  Oy.  Several times I made the mistake of asking for a Spot check.  After the second '65, I think', I just cut to the chase. 



			
				Zad said:
			
		

> Oh, and I should mention that it was in here that Aethramyr died. The lich cast a spell at him, and Aethramyr’s body was crushed by it. And he died. We took him back up to the hallway and Dravot brought him back to life.




DM Note #3: Aethramyr, meet Implosion.  Implosion, Aethramyr.  He rolled a '2' on a Fort Save and Done Up And Died.  I did a little dance.


----------



## WizarDru

dravot said:
			
		

> Aethramyr was hit by an Implosion spell - as in 17th+ level cleric. You can bet your bottom dollar that made me sit up and take notice. The save was something like DC 25? 29? Aethramyr rolled a '2' and got a total of 23.




He was a 20th level Cleric Lich.  His DC for the spell was 29.



			
				dravot said:
			
		

> 4) I did a hastened turning, and wiped out almost all of the wraith thingies in one shot, followed up a repulsion spell. The one remaning wraith thingy then did it's best mime-in-a-box imitation.




Poor little bastard.


----------



## Zad

There are plenty of times the story (being, as it is, a story) doesn't really capture the fun or the mood of the night. Shame too since we have such a great time. The staring contest fell right out because of that kind of limitation. I am somewhat saddened that I can't quite convey these kinds of things. I think Piratecat does, but that is in part due to having a generally lighter tone throughout the course of his story hour, and a third person perspective.

C'est la vie. 

It does seem odd though that in this very dangerous place, for some reason we seem to be very prone to high risk behaviors. Whacky, but whatchagonnado.


----------



## LordVyreth

Heh, I'm glad our mutual concerns about this adventure was waaay off.   Though Dru gave me a hint on that in his other thread.  Still, I'm eager to see the party handle things beyond this adventure, and not just because I finally get to see some of the monster work I've done for Dru get paid off.  How much of the dungeon is left?  Do you have an indication from what you've seen so far?


----------



## Zad

You can gauge by the pieces of True Death sort of. The poem seems to lay out how many there are, and compare that to the two we found so far.

Or for the direct approach you can listen to the DM. Wizardru said we were just finished level 1, but level 2 and 3 were smaller.


----------



## dravot

Game night!  Can WizarDru go 2 for 2 against the Paladin?

We're dying to find out!


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Note to self. NEVER go down the well by yourself Bolo. NEVER!


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Note to self #2... Do not under any circumstances look into the Frog's mouth. Stop volunteering to look into things Bolo.... It always leads to trouble. 

Note to self #3.... Remember to bring a fresh change of underwear. I'm just sayin is all.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Heh, I'm glad our mutual concerns about this adventure was waaay off.   Though Dru gave me a hint on that in his other thread.  Still, I'm eager to see the party handle things beyond this adventure, and not just because I finally get to see some of the monster work I've done for Dru get paid off.  How much of the dungeon is left?  Do you have an indication from what you've seen so far?



We just cleared out level 2 last night. but at a huge cost. and I mean HUGE! 

Next up.... Gulthias!


----------



## Zad

And people wonder why you can't build suspense in the story hour.


----------



## Zad

*A Fool's Errand - Chapter 7*

*A Fool’s Errand – Chapter 7*

*OOC Notes:*

   Exp is 3000 for 24th, 2500 for 25th.

*DM Notes:*

   At this point, I will point out for the curious that Wizardru is doing some editing. I’m not even sure what module we’re in at this point – I leave that for Wizardru to define. But there are some rooms being excised because they’re just plain silly. We were half jokingly and half seriously admiring some of the well designed traps in this dungeon. But then there are some that are just… tacky. Perhaps it’s a matter of expectations; when you are 5th level (or perhaps reminiscing to 5th grade) a trap requiring you to step on colored platforms of rainbow hues in proper sequence may seem clever or new. To an epic party with all late 30’s players who’ve been playing for 20-ish years, it just seems rather sad. And with a mere motion of his hand, Wizardru made the room go *poof* and it was erased from existence. 

 It’s a good module with some good pieces, but then there’s some real dogs and they drag the whole thing down and ruin the epic-nemesis feel of the thing. It makes it feel like something that was written 20 years ago. Some good editing could turn this into a top-quality piece.

*This Week’s Adventure:*

   The smooth black stone relief of the cawing crow was at chest height. The latch to the door was, of course, inside the maw.

 There was an intricate combination of traps, that made it practically impossible to disarm one or the other without losing some appendages to the jaws. The jaws were nothing to laugh at – they were laced with disintegration magic and would snap through whatever you might have thought to block them with. 

 We were debating some other ways of bypassing the door entirely when Valanthe, in a display of consummate skill, managed to open the door while retaining the correct number of appendages. 

 The next room was long and narrow with two paths tiled on the floor leading up to two statues. One was of a human, and the other a dwarf holding a torch. An inscription on the floor read 

_Once before, this crypt was looted. 

   The robber bore one sack of gold; 

   His henchman stout bore two sacks.

   To proceed, you must walk the path

   Of he who bore the heavier load._

 I’ll spare myself writing down the details of the discussion. The inscription itself of course is vague and therefore requires some level of assumption to proceed. This fact means that the choice is nearly random, and it’s pointless to debate the merits of the assumptions, since all are equally potent. One theory held that a single sack of gold is much heavier than two (empty) sacks therefore the human statue held the proper path. Another notion was that the henchman hauled the gold in one and his dead master in the other. And it went on from there. Valanthe volunteered to try one, and we settled on the human side. She reached the other end of the room without incident.

 While she checked the next door, we noticed that above each statue was a hole that went up ten feet and stopped. It suddenly became clear that upon activation, the ceiling would slam down crushing whomever was in the room (but of course leaving the statues undamaged). I was tempted to move the statues out of spite.

 The next room was sixty feet square. The corners held large wooden columns that were mortared into the walls. Tiny holes covered the floor and ceiling. In the center of the room was a well or cistern. Along the other three walls were three wooden doors.

 Bolo went into air elemental form and floated down the well. After a short way, the well opened out and he was in a large cave chamber. Four chains extended from the corners of the room above descending down into dark water far below. 

 “Ah,” Bolo thought. “The room is an elevator. The posts hide the chains, and the room lowers into the water and fills up through the holes.”

 Which would have been somewhat elegant in itself, but not quite deadly enough. The addition of two ghostly dire sharks however, would serve that need. These same sharks heard Bolo clattering his way down the well shaft, and were “swimming” out of the water, through the air, and towards him, the room, and us, still waiting in the room with the statues.

 The ghostly sharks of course could come through the floor, the walls or the ceiling at us as they saw fit. They were too strong to be destroyed by Dravot the easy way. And of course they were ghosts, which is always a nuisance. They came at us from above and below, tearing flesh and blood into spectral ether. My arrows had no trouble, nor did Valanthe’s dagger (a souvenir from Nightfang Spire) but other weapons were less effective. To give us some level of tactical control, Dravot went into the ethereal and put down an ethereal blade barrier to try to force the sharks to attack us along controlled lines. 

 This tactical situation have been workable, until one of the sharks, being more clever than he looked, triggered the trap and smashed the ceiling down on most of us. 

 [OOC: Now this, friends, is the craftsmanship. Someone went to the trouble of finding a dire shark, awakening it, optionally attaching “frikkin lasers”, and THEN turning it into a ghost and putting it here. Then they did it again. That’s caring about your work is what that is. And yes, there were frikkin lasers - they shot an ethereal beam at Bolo.]

 Valanthe dove clear, and Dravot was ethereal. The rest of us were smashed down to the floor. I was able to reach out and teleport the others into the elevator room and we stood up with no small amount of indignity.

 The sharks kept coming, but it was far easier to fight them in the more open room, and they didn’t have the good sense to escape. Bolo used several mass healing spells, both fixing our ruined backs and hurting the sharks in the process. Ultimately the sharks were destroyed but it would be a while before some of us would be walking straight. 

 The water below held nothing interesting, except that the floor was filled with spikes which would come up through the holes in the floor, in addition to allowing the water to drain. 

 With three doors before us, we took the one on the right. We could hear screams of agony as we approached a door at the end of a corridor. As we opened the door, the wave of fear and despair signaled the presence of an _unhallowed_ area. It was a circular chamber, the walls lined with cages and the tables filled with torture equipment and notebooks. In the middle of the room was a cast iron chest shaped like a toad-demon and chained shut. 

 As we approached, a mournful voice said “Who opens my maw will feed it. True Death lies beyond.”

 A check of the room revealed a secret door, and two vials. One was empty but had a slick residue and Valanthe believed it was the telltale sign of a vial that used to contain sovereign glue. That spawned the natural conclusion that the other vial contained universal solvent.

 When the lock on the chest was released, they sprang to life and attacked. Scorch used a sonic spell to shatter them into pieces and we opened the lid. Inside was a pit, and down below was a troll-like creature, spiked and chained into a position of supplication on the floor. It screamed but there was no sound. Its tongue lashed out twenty feet and wrapped around Bolo. (Naturally.)

 “Back where you came from,” waved Scorch. The _dismissal_ worked and the creature was gone. But the shard of True Death was not there. 

 “Must be ‘beyond’,” Valanthe said jerking a thumb at the secret door. 

 The door led to a small, plain chamber. It had no adornments nor features. It was entirely unremarkable, save for the object in the center. The red stone thrummed audibly and steadily, pulsing with a sanguine glow. It was ten feet wide and made of a living crystal. It released a wave of evil over us. And there was no doubt that this was the heart of Ashardalon.

 The very presence of the thing weakened us slightly, and not just by virtue of its existence. If it was here, then it escaped the destruction of Nightfang Spire. And if it was here, then it was likely that someone else was here as well. Gulthias would not be far from his precious heart.

 On the far side of the heart, I caught a glint of something that didn’t belong. I crouched down and could see a small metal fragment on the floor. 

 Scorch and Dravot were conferring fervently. “This is wrong. It’s all wrong. Someone has been warping this thing,” Scorch said.

 “It’s worse. There is the taint of the divine upon it. Some unholy diety has placed its mark upon this. It is far more powerful now than it likely was in Nightfang spire,” Dravot said, slightly pale.

 “I agree. It must now be intelligent,” Scorch agreed. “There’s no way it could not be. Surely it knows we are here. It can sense us. Except perhaps Valanthe. She is touched by the void. It may not have noticed her yet.”

 Valanthe sighed a heavy sigh. She slipped into the room, keeping as far from the Heart as she could. I watched her (since nobody else could) as she got closer to the shard. The Heart either did not know, or did not care. She reached for the shard, but it didn’t move. She shook her head in disgust with a sneer that said “Ha ha, very funny,” then took out the universal solvent and released the shard from the glue. 

 She slipped back out of the room, shaken but unharmed. “There was a vision. Flashes in my head. Memories from someone – Gulthias perhaps. I saw a skull with gems for eyes, floating in the air. It was… teaching Gulthias. And another creature – The ShadowTaker I think. I think Gulthias was loyal to The ShadowTaker, the worm to Acererack, and the lich to Orcus.”

 While Valanthe had been sneaking, Dravot was praying for guidance. The evil in this thing was too dangerous too persist but too powerful to excise. After a time, he stood up, his face blank.

 He turned to the Heart and held up the Light of Reason. The Heart grumbled slowly. A bright light shot from the lantern towards the Heart growing brighter and brighter. Dravot’s skin began to glow with it and bursts of light started glowing from his eyes and mouth. Suddenly, the lantern shattered the pieces hanging in the air and dancing around each other while the light grew even more intense. The Heart started shaking and smoking, turning from red to black.

 I couldn’t see what happened next, but the entire room shook with power. Everything went white. 

 When we woke, only a few seconds had passed but we were back in the torture room. The torture devices were gone, and so were the cages. Inside the Heart’s chamber was only a burning afterimage, as if someone had erased that part of the world.

 Dravot’s clothes had all turned pure white, but he was otherwise unharmed. The Light of Reason, though, was gone. Dravot didn’t seem to mind – there was a hint of a small smile at having destroyed a very bad thing.

 We soon realized that we had to move. The destruction of the Heart would surely be noticed by someone and they would be coming… here. So it was time for us to be somewhere else.

 We went out a different door from the wet room. I’ll skip the irrelevant details and just say we retrieved another shard.

 [OOC: I’ll skip it because… well… we did. It was a goofy room with levers and things. Wizardru hand-waved it.]

 The last door led to yet another door. Valanthe could hear the sound of people moving about and something large and wooden falling over. Valanthe snuck in.

 It was a chapel to Therizdun (if those words even go together). There were some drow kicking over benches to make a defensive position. Directly in front of the altar was a man brandishing a dark black sword. They clearly knew we were close.

 “I can’t see you but you must be Valanthe. Magic will kill you whether or not we can see you. Then you will join us.”

 Gulthias smiled at that. “The ultimate vampire.”


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

Tempting to possibly take on the vampiric template?

GW


----------



## dravot

From the moment that we found the Heart, I knew that it needed to be destroyed, and that I was gonna wind up spending a miracle (or more) to do it.

It was my original intention to send it to the positive energy plane, but Kayleigh's suggestion that I pray for guidance was a good one.  My effort would have been a waste of 5,000xp, with nothing useful to come of it.

WizarDru hinted that it's a good thing that we removed it, because the upcoming fight with Gulthias would have been much tougher without it.  I'll be curious to find out the mechanics afterward (ie, how Gulthias' stats and abilities are affected by the heart).

WizarDru also said that if we hadn't found Gulthias, he'd have found us pretty quickly - ie, resting for new spells wasn't really an option.    

I'm a bit bummed out by the sacrifice of the Lamp, as it has come be a defining attribute for me for Dravot (not to mention some seriously cool swag), but it was the right thing to do.


----------



## LordVyreth

Could you go over the abilities of the Lamp again?  It's been a while since you got it and I'm not certain what it was capable of, exactly. 

Oh, here's an idea.  At your level, isn't it possible for Dravot to make a new one?  He does have his god on speed dial, after all.


----------



## dravot

Basically, it acts as a _Holy Aura_ spell at a 30' radius, and a _Bless_ spell at a 30'-60' radius, for all allies.  For the holder of the lamp, it's an empowered _Holy Aura_ spell (which means +6 deflection bonus, +6 resistance bonus, and most importantly, a juicy SR 37 for Dravot).  _Holy Aura_ also has an effect where anyone striking the spell recipient must make a save or be blinded; that effect was only for the holder of the Light of Reason, and I don't think that it actually ever blinded anyone.  Drat.

As we continue to climb in levels though, the SR 37 was becoming less protective, though, so for pure game mechanics, I'm not really unhappy to lose it.

Make a new one?  We don't have time to eat a simple meal these days, much less carving out 150 days for making new artifacts.   :\


----------



## LordVyreth

dravot said:
			
		

> Basically, it acts as a _Holy Aura_ spell at a 30' radius, and a _Bless_ spell at a 30'-60' radius, for all allies.  For the holder of the lamp, it's an empowered _Holy Aura_ spell (which means +6 deflection bonus, +6 resistance bonus, and most importantly, a juicy SR 37 for Dravot).  _Holy Aura_ also has an effect where anyone striking the spell recipient must make a save or be blinded; that effect was only for the holder of the Light of Reason, and I don't think that it actually ever blinded anyone.  Drat.
> 
> As we continue to climb in levels though, the SR 37 was becoming less protective, though, so for pure game mechanics, I'm not really unhappy to lose it.
> 
> Make a new one?  We don't have time to eat a simple meal these days, much less carving out 150 days for making new artifacts.   :\




Well, find a new one, then?  Or just beg your god to make you a new one, either way.    

Anyway, will the next game be this weekend?  My game's on hiatus for a month or so and even with Gen Con coming up next weekend, I'd enjoy using your game as a substitute to make up for it.  Oh, on that note, will any of your group be going to Gen Con this year?  Or is it too far out of your way?

And here's another random question for everyone.  What's your favorite adventure, dungeon, or at segment of a larger adventure, and why?


----------



## dravot

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Well, find a new one, then?  Or just beg your god to make you a new one, either way.
> 
> Anyway, will the next game be this weekend?  My game's on hiatus for a month or so and even with Gen Con coming up next weekend, I'd enjoy using your game as a substitute to make up for it.  Oh, on that note, will any of your group be going to Gen Con this year?  Or is it too far out of your way?
> 
> And here's another random question for everyone.  What's your favorite adventure, dungeon, or at segment of a larger adventure, and why?



We need everyone to be present for the Gulthias fight, and Bolo's going away for the weekend, so it's our Beta/Barakus campaign instead.


----------



## WizarDru

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Well, find a new one, then?  Or just beg your god to make you a new one, either way.
> 
> Anyway, will the next game be this weekend? My game's on hiatus for a month or so and even with Gen Con coming up next weekend, I'd enjoy using your game as a substitute to make up for it. Oh, on that note, will any of your group be going to Gen Con this year? Or is it too far out of your way?
> 
> And here's another random question for everyone. What's your favorite adventure, dungeon, or at segment of a larger adventure, and why?




Gencon is a shining dream in the distance.  We've already taken a LOT of vacation this year, and are planning on attending Southern Exposure again this year, so no Gencon.  One of these years....

The game has featured many great moments, but for me one of the best is probably the Rescue of Gelban.  Just hands down an awesome, awesome night.  Everyone was running on all cylinders, everything clicked and it just rocked the hizzouse.  It featured battles with no quarter given, lots of danger, cunning plans and amazing stunts of skill and guts;  it was D&D at its most pure, most enjoyable.  But that's just my opinion.


----------



## Len

WizarDru said:
			
		

> The game has featured many great moments, but for me one of the best is probably the Rescue of Gelban.  Just hands down an awesome, awesome night.  Everyone was running on all cylinders, everything clicked and it just rocked the hizzouse.  It featured battles with no quarter given, lots of danger, cunning plans and amazing stunts of skill and guts;  it was D&D at its most pure, most enjoyable.  But that's just my opinion.



Hmm, when you say "Rescue of Gelban" I remember Bolo abusing a poor water elemental and getting killed by a paragon fire elemental beholder. Have I got that right?

If so, yes, a great episode.


----------



## Zad

That would be correct 

For me one of the standouts was the githyanki war. (Not that the rescue wasn't fantastic.) We brung the smack and we laid it down. It was a really powerful feeling in both battles. Even though it wasn't as huge for me personally as it was for the AE-spell spellcasters, it was a real show of force for us. There are others, of course.


So it was an... interesting Barakus game. We learned several things and saw several unique things:

1. For a rogue, it's not only more effective to club your party members to unconsciousness rather than fight enemy, it's also more fun.

2. A player says "Yay! I'm at -1 hp!" and meant it (See #1 - if I add in the words "Vampire" and "domination", it all suddenly becomes more clear.)

3. Sorcerers really do get a whole lot of spells

4. Evo finally hit something with an Acid Arrow

5. My rogue actually *made* a fort save

6. Archers have a good time with DR now

7. Crapping your pants is a free action


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Len said:
			
		

> Hmm, when you say "Rescue of Gelban" I remember Bolo abusing a poor water elemental and getting killed by a paragon fire elemental beholder. Have I got that right?
> 
> If so, yes, a great episode.



Your mean. But hey if I'm what you remember most then I guess I'm the Paris Hilton of D&D.
/takes a long hot bath after writing that statement.


----------



## dravot

Zad said:
			
		

> That would be correct
> 
> For me one of the standouts was the githyanki war. (Not that the rescue wasn't fantastic.) We brung the smack and we laid it down. It was a really powerful feeling in both battles. Even though it wasn't as huge for me personally as it was for the AE-spell spellcasters, it was a real show of force for us. There are others, of course.
> 
> 
> So it was an... interesting Barakus game. We learned several things and saw several unique things:
> 
> 1. For a rogue, it's not only more effective to club your party members to unconsciousness rather than fight enemy, it's also more fun.
> 
> 2. A player says "Yay! I'm at -1 hp!" and meant it (See #1 - if I add in the words "Vampire" and "domination", it all suddenly becomes more clear.)
> 
> 3. Sorcerers really do get a whole lot of spells
> 
> 4. Evo finally hit something with an Acid Arrow
> 
> 5. My rogue actually *made* a fort save
> 
> 6. Archers have a good time with DR now
> 
> 7. Crapping your pants is a free action



My favorite moment was pointing out that Aislinn was flanked by both you and a dire rat.  The enemy of my enemy is truly my friend, for flanking purposes.


----------



## LordVyreth

So is everyone back and ready to play again?  Can we expect an update after this weekend?


----------



## Argent Silvermage

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> So is everyone back and ready to play again?  Can we expect an update after this weekend?



Gee... I thought you knew. We finished the game. It turns out Meepo is actually the Shadow King and all we had to do was ask him nice to be a good boy.


----------



## WizarDru

Just got back from a business day-trip, and yes, there will be a game this very night.  

Asses will be kicked.  That is what I am saying.


----------



## dravot

*Boot to the door!*

Dravot put the boot to the door, and we've started the combat!

One round and Bolo is still alive!


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Introducing Bolo's newest Companions Piddles and Streeky


----------



## the Jester

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> Introducing Bolo's newest Companions Piddles and Streeky




  Sounds like somebody wet the bed or something...


----------



## WizarDru

the Jester said:
			
		

> Sounds like somebody wet the bed or something...




I'm pretty sure either one could probably kill a 10th level party...but the lack of opposable thumbs is problematic.


----------



## LordVyreth

WizarDru said:
			
		

> I'm pretty sure either one could probably kill a 10th level party...but the lack of opposable thumbs is problematic.




At your level, one of the party members could probably pass gas and it could a 10th level party, so that's not saying much.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Hey! That's only because Scorch left his mind blower chilies near my ingrediants for my chimichangas. I couldn't help mixing them up.


----------



## the Jester

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> Hey! That's only because Scorch left his mind blower chilies near my ingrediants for my chimichangas. I couldn't help mixing them up.




Whoah!  Leave a window open!!


----------



## dravot

Tune in to today's installment of the storyhour in which Dravot incorrectly guesses as he meta-games a situation and winds up wasting everyone's time by 45 min or so.


----------



## the Jester

dravot said:
			
		

> Tune in to today's installment of the storyhour in which Dravot incorrectly guesses as he meta-games a situation and winds up wasting everyone's time by 45 min or so.




Well, that'll learn ya!   

I hope you guys post it before I leave- otherwise I won't get to read it til after Burning Man!


----------



## Argent Silvermage

the Jester said:
			
		

> Well, that'll learn ya!
> 
> I hope you guys post it before I leave- otherwise I won't get to read it til after Burning Man!



Serves you right for going to Burning Man and not taking me!


----------



## dravot

the Jester said:
			
		

> Well, that'll learn ya!
> 
> I hope you guys post it before I leave- otherwise I won't get to read it til after Burning Man!



I'd love to visit Burning Man just once, for a day or so (though that'll never happen).

Zad should have the storyhour posted very soon.  He was waiting on WizarDru for one last piece of info, and that's now in.


----------



## Zad

*A Fool’s Errand – Chapter 8*

*A Fool’s Errand – Chapter 8*

OOC Notes:
Exp for 24th is a massive 14,575. (No typo.) 25th get 10,125. That should put most of the group at 25th.

Loot:
Ring of blinking
+5 silver falchion with energy drain, drain blood, and body feeder
scabbard of keen edges
potion of harm
mithril chain shirt (go figure)
+3 hand crossbow
2 bracers of armor +8
headband of intellect +6
2 cloak of resistance +5
2 ring of protection +5
2 amulet of natural armor +5
wand of lightning bolt (8th level caster)
+2 studded leather

This Week’s Adventure:
Gulthias knew we were here, and that Valanthe was in the room, but they were no more ready to battle us than we were to fight them. Gulthias was flanked by a female drow spellcaster and a male, while three others were in defensive positions in the room, in a frenzy kicking over pews to brace for our arrival. 

Protective spells went up and then Dravot threw the doors open wide. “The day of reckoning has finally come Gulthias,” he said in a booming voice. 

Gulthias said nothing. I think he knew it to be true. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. He traced a symbol in the air and threw it towards Dravot, but it simply broke apart into light as it touched him.

Scorch claimed to have “an idea.” These words, while frightening from Bolo, elicited something more akin to curiosity when used by Scorch. Moments later, the back half of the room was filled with writhing black tentacles that managed to snare several of the drow. Gulthias attempted to return fire with his own spell, but whatever it was, Bolo counterspelled it before it could take shape. 

The female drow threw a blackened fireball into the hallway, but it didn’t have nearly the impact she was hoping for. After the fire subsided, two of the drow… stretched into the hallway behind us. It was as if they occupied all the space between the two points, then collapsed into their new location. These two were intended to engage us at close range and disrupt our spellcasters but never really got the chance. Bolo and Scorch looked at each other and Scorch shrugged. After a flash of arcane energy, one of them was sent to the maze by Scorch while the other had been turned into a kitten by Bolo.

A very indignant-looking kitten. 

Gulthias’ allies were going to go down first. I released a volley into the female drow. She was gravely wounded but still fighting. She touched the altar, and her wounds healed over. Aethramyr was walking – no striding almost methodically into the room. He cut through the first drow in his path without breaking step even as arrows were flying by. He stepped up to Gulthias but waited, Shatterspike resting patiently in his grip.

Scorch reached out with mental force and grabbed the female drow, and she spat at him. Scorch practically scoffed at her defiance. My next set of arrows tore through her body, and she went limp in Scorch’s mental grip. Then there was a movement off to the right and Shadowcut was sticking out of the chest of a drow, his hand crossbow falling out of his limp grip.

There was a pop as the absent drow returned from his prison. So Bolo turned him into a puppy.

Gulthias stood alone.

“It’s been a long time coming,” Aethramyr said. “I bet you didn’t think it would end like this though – without your precious heart.”

“Well,” I observed, “it’s only been about three years since we burned your tree to ash. But even to me, it seems like a long time.”

“If I had known what would come from that day, I would have destroyed you that day myself. You couldn’t have stopped me,” Gulthias screamed. He was defiant and maddened but he was also slowly trying to back away while Aethramyr matched each step.

“And now, you come to this,” came Valanthe’s voice from the shadows behind him. “Alone. In this place. Just you and us.”

“I should have destroyed you all in the Spire,” the vampire sneered. 

“You tried,” Scorch said dismissively. “You made us what we are, in some ways.”

Gulthias was backed up against the altar, nowhere left to go. Aethramyr stood before him, unassailable. I stared at the vampire, full of hatred and contempt and even some pity. Valanthe was behind him and Scorch was leaning on an overturned pew. (Bolo amused himself with the puppy while we exacted our long-coming revenge.)  We were all relaxed but at the same time, ready to strike in an instant. 

“The Spire. The plant horrors. You have so much to answer for. Oblivion will be too easy a punishment for you,” I said sadly. 

“You knew it would come to this,” Valanthe whispered. “Even as you made your stand here, you knew this would be your end.”

Gulthias’ silence spoke volumes.

“Did you turn to your master?” I waved my hand at the ceiling. “Did you expect him to save you? Did he abandon you to your fate with us? Or did he seek to test you?” Gulthias’ eyes narrowed and I continued “Or perhaps…use you to test us? Nothing but another pawn after all this, dread vampire?”

Gulthias couldn’t hide the truth on his face. He knew it too well – after all this, he was just a pawn put in our path. “So end it then. Strike me down if you have longed for it so,” Gulthias said. I wasn’t sure if he had given up, or if he was still looking for an escape.

“No. Your fate will not be met with blade or arrow or spell,” Aethramyr said quietly, and stepped aside, where Dravot stood behind him.

Gulthias tried to hide the fear. He failed.

“Your end comes at Pelor’s hands, blood-drinker.” Dravot held his holy symbol lightly in one hand. “My faith has been forged and tempered for moments such as this. For you.”

Gulthias swallowed hard, then sneered. He sprang from the altar and lunged at Dravot’s throat. The world seemed to slow as Dravot gently brought up the icon of Pelor and a soft glow suffused him. Gulthias leapt towards the sun itself, and his being was burned away in streaks of light and ash. It took but an instant, but was years in the making. His sword fell to the ground at Dravot’s feet in a pile of ash and smoke.

Unknown to me, several planes away, in a small town in Keoland a humble former paladin and a sorceress collapsed. Hours later, they would wake up, free for the first time in three years.

*************************

Dravot examined the altar carefully; after the last one, we were not inclined to treat this one too casually. “But how many artifact-caliber altars could there be in this place?” I asked, only half joking.

As he looked at it, small bits of lightning traced their way over runes and etchings on the altar’s surface. Then as Dravot studied them, several charges came together in the middle to form a ball. The ball glowed softly and an image formed within. It showed demons on the march. A pit fiend lead this group, and it stopped to speak to a smaller creature in a cloak. Without understanding the language, the pit fiend was clearly scared of the smaller beast. It had a mask of glass but horns protruded from the hood of the cloak. It spoke and the pit fiend nearly jumped to obey. As the creature turned, four insect arms were visible under the cloak. It was one of the Khrel Hr’dad – one of the three yugoloths we’d heard so much about.

As it turned, Dravot recognized a certain tower in the background – it was in Kalstrand. On the Prime.

We didn’t have time to give this information more than a passing thought. The altar was still wicked and would be destroyed. Rather than over-engineer the problem, Dravot simply nullified all magic in the area around the altar and Aethramyr used a simple hammer and chisel to break the altar into pieces.

Nobody was surprised by the stairs underneath.

But before we descended, a voice spoke. It had an old quality, and a haunting echo. It strained as if it were struggling to remember how to speak. And it was cold.

_What do you want?_

We turned and saw an image of a large floating skull with gems for eyes.

_You have done something that has not been done in many generations. You have forced me to turn my attention here._

Dravot put it simply. “We seek the theerpart.”

_Why? What is it you hope to accomplish?_ The voice almost sounded distracted or struggling to even remember.

“There is a threat to the Prime. The theerpart will help us protect it.”

_I see… You wish to take the theerpart then? Nothing else? Your hatred for the unliving is well known, Dravot de Chandanac._

“There are other issues here,” Scorch said.

_You are known to us as well, Slerotin._

Scorch harrumphed. “My name is Scorch.”

_As you wish_ it said dismissively.

_Am I to believe you expect to leave this place without challenging me?_

“To be honest,” Dravot said, “I want to challenge you. But the need is urgent enough that if we had the part, we would simply leave.”

_Perhaps then we could come to an arrangement. You could reforge True Death, and I could provide you with the theerpart._

“That’d be like giving the Sword of Kas back to Vecna,” Scorch quipped.

_Vecna was foolish… _ and the voice trailed off, perhaps deciding we were too small to understand the nuances.

_Our outlooks are different but the Prime is still our home. I have little love for the cleric, but there are other goals I am more interested in serving. To have penetrated my tomb this far shows you are clearly capable of protecting the theerpart. While I despise you cleric, I believe you would be capable of resisting its taint for a time._

We barely discussed it. Was Acererack evil? Surely. But he was so immensely powerful, immensely intelligent that in some ways he transcends notions of good and evil as we understand them. His mind roams the planes – he does not trouble himself with the petty concerns of mortals. He is likely beyond our understanding (although I suppose Scorch could conceivably understand him some day.) But more practically, there was nothing to be gained by fighting him and far too much to lose.

“We accept your terms.”

_Travel down the stairs to the Forge of Pain. There you will find what you need._ The skull disappeared.

The forge was adequate if not spectacular. There was a fire elemental bound to it but it was otherwise quite unremarkable. Some tools bore the ShadowTaker’s mark, but everything was coated with dust that could span centuries.  But it was more than sufficient for someone of Aethramyr’s skill to re-form the blade. It would take several hours to reform the blade. 

At some point when I wasn’t looking, Dravot and Scorch began conversing further with Acererack. Or at least a part of him – Scorch claimed this was merely a fragment of his intellect turned to us. Acererack informed us that time had moved faster here, and events in the Prime were in motion. (But he said it in a way that showed he barely noticed or cared.) He was showing images on the walls at their request but the images were perhaps a week old. The Khrel Hr’dad were indeed on the move. Judges surrounded Brindinford. The Silverring was apparently out of commission again. And the Dragons were in a council with many others, including, of all people, Chavram.

_Things move forward. I am willing to release the theerpart to you because the Lords of Air are dead or dying, and this makes me believe you are at least their equal._

“I wonder,” mused Bolo “what will happen with the reds now that the Heart is destroyed.” He wasn’t asking but the lich answered anyway.

_Ashardalon may grow bold. Infernus may have to flee._

And then it hit me. A question that had been bothering me for some time, and here was someone who would know the answer. “And what of the Bargain? What is it exactly?”

_The Bargain is an exchange of power. You wish to know how the Khrel Hr’dad managed to survive? The Bargain is the answer. The yugoloths created the Bargain and act as its bondsmen. But the loan has defaulted, as was their original plan I’m sure._

“And they get to keep the balance of the souls?”

_Indeed. Power given and power returned and they get to keep the profits for their own ends. The souls of those taken from the Prime allow them to remain here. They use them as costumes._

Then I noticed the banging had stopped. Aethramyr said nonchalantly “The sword is done.”

The sword flew from his hand, and began to shake and hovered in the air. A deep bass voice cried out. “I RETURN. I BANE HAVE RETURNED. ALSO KNOWN AS TRUE DEATH!”

It was a very loud sword. And quite evil apparently. But mostly loud.

“I HAVE BEEN…” it started saying, then a ghostly hand appeared and grasped the hilt, and the voice was immediately muffled. Then the entire thing disappeared with a pop.

_Thank you for returning my phylactery to me. As promised, your trinket of evil._

The oddly quasi-geometric shifting form of theerpart appeared. Of course that left the question of how to move it. Scorch’s studies indicated it could be contained to a degree, and that with the leftover vitaesis in the forge that we could construct a small ark to hold it. It would be safer, if not safe. It took only a few hours and we were ready.

The stairs glowed, and we ascended more stairs than we had to come to the forge. We emerged in the entry cave where it had began, the crazed monk still writing on the wall in blood as if we had never disturbed him. We exited the cave into the open sky of the swamp.

Far overhead I saw a flight of judges moving swiftly. I fired an arrow in their general area to try to draw their attention. One of them saw it and broke off and landed before us.

I curtsied quickly. “Greetings Judge. I am sorry to distract you. We have just returned from off-plane. The Khrel Hr’dad are on the march?”

“Yes,” it answered, clearly trading messages with others of its kind mentally.

“Do you know where they are?” 

“No. We cannot see them.” Then it paused, listening. “Zinkman has summoned another crab.”

“Zinkman?? Has he gone man then?” I asked.

“There are two Zinkman’s right now. One is in the form of the one you call the Silverring. That one is sane. He is in the Lendores. The other one has begun altering the Prime to his desires. We have rooted out the demon in your midst – the female kobold was a demon. An eyrnie you call them?”

I sighed deeply. “There is clearly much to do. I thank you for your time. I will not keep you further. Please contact us if there is something we can do beyond what we will likely be doing anyway.”

He flew away. I wasn’t entirely sure that the host had quite registered the fact that we had returned yet, but they would in time.  

I contacted Lord Gelban. His reply was swift but short. “This is not secure. Contact me another way.”

Scorch pulled out the crystal ball, but most of the figures we attempted to scry could not be found. Scorch on a hunch (or a whim) turned to Dirgah, one of his guild affiliates. Dirgah was visible, in an empty clearing. But it seemed he was talking to someone. We issued a sending and he confirmed that everyone was there.

We teleported to the scene to see what “everyone” meant. It included the notable dragons – Lord Gelban, the Platinar, the Cupric, the Brazen, Hammer, Tongs, even Paravandr. There was also Chavram and Kalten, The Owl, and many others I didn’t recognize.

As we arrived in the clearing, Lord Gelban was speaking.

“It is agreed then. The Silverring must die.”


----------



## Zad

Now that really sounds like a great final scene with Gulthias doesn’t it?

Too bad it didn’t happen anything like that.

It’s all a dirty lie. Here’s what really happened:

The drow were eliminated or turned into various small fuzzy animals. Aethramyr had taken a smack at Gulthias but we were really just about to get revved up and beat him senseless. Dravot had not even tried to turn him, convinced he’d be too powerful for that.

We all teased him. “Go on. Try it. Whatcha scared of? Ya big sissy! Turn him. I dare you!” And so on.

Finally he said “Fine.”

Wizardru: “Roll your turn check.”

Dravot: <roll roll> “Ok maximum of 32 hit dice.”

Wizardru: “Ok he’s destroyed.”

Dravot: “Nuh uh. You’re lying.”

Wizardru: “Nope. He’s dust.”

Dravot: “Yeah sure right. Who’s next to act?”

Wizardru: “Combat’s over. He’s gone.”

Dravot (as realization sinks in he could have done this to start): …


It was amusing. But you’ll forgive me if I say I like my way better.

Also omitted: Acererack said something different upon the reforging of True Death.

_ Thank you for returning my phylactery to me. As promised your trinket of evil. Do not lick it.  Your tongue will stick._


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*Ping!!!!!!!!!!!!!*

Bolo's finally 25th level.

I was so happy to be able to use one of my favorite spells and get it to work. Baleful Polymorph is so much fun.
There is now a Kitten and a Puppy who remember being Drow Hexblades. Bolo's such a mind f*cker.


----------



## WizarDru

Some quick points of detail:

Neo-Gulthias had been transformed into a templated 20th-level Hexblade.  It didn't work out that well for him.   The drow were not actually drow, but actually Hihoca (for those who follow the idea thread).  That didn't work out that well for them, either.  Smart tactics (combined with a lack of preparation on the bad guys part) meant they sucked it down, hard.  Scorch's Black Tentacles messed up the battlefield for them, and the group was too spread out for most spells to have much effect.

Aethramy suffered from Gulthias' Dire Hex Curse, giving him an effective -6 to every d20 roll.  Nasty stuff, but it didn't save him.  Acererak would not have been a good fight to engage in...and it was a debated topic.  Acererak's earthly form is CR33.  It is entirely likely that one or several party members would not have survived and had their souls destroyed forever while the remaining party members grabbed the theorpart and fled...which is like grabbing a red-hot coal of evil.

Kayleigh noted with some amusement that, as far as they could tell, Acererak joined the extremely short list of people who have not lied to the party.  Make of that what you will.


----------



## Zad

Indeed there was no discernable lie and I was left with the impression he really had no reason to lie to us. He truly was transcendant - the concepts of good, evil, and so on were of little relevance to him. Put another way, he was easily the lesser or perhaps least of many evils to choose from. 

Evil? Well, yeah. But is he really doing anything evil that has an impact on us or those we care about? Erm... well no. So let's pull up to the drive-thru and make our order.

"I'd like one Theerpart, onion rings, and a large orange drink."

_That'll be one True Death. Please pull around._


----------



## Aethramyr

> We all teased him. “Go on. Try it. Whatcha scared of? Ya big sissy! Turn him. I dare you!” And so on.





And got to use one of our quasi-in-house lines: "I'll give you a Nickel" 


EDIT: And geez, Zad, you go through the trouble of fixing it all in post, as it were, and then shatter the illusion in 10 minutes? Yikes. ;-)


----------



## LordVyreth

Damn, and more of my pets bite the early dust!  I hope that you get the chance to see them again in a more beneficial terrain for them; they're weren't really made for cramped dungeon battles.  On the other hand, it sounds like a few of my other, more powerful creations might have a place in the next adventure.    

So, this might be a stupid question, but what did you guys do to the new-fuzzy Hihoca?  I can imagine Bolo might try keeping them as pets, and now PvP's evil kittie is coming to mind!

Err, never mind that last question.  I just read the posts last page and realized what they meant.


----------



## LordVyreth

Oh, and two more things.  First, it's been a while.  What was the paladin and sorceress thing about?  Second, and on that note, I remember way back when you wrote up a quick description of the major NPCS.  I would like to petition you, if you have the time for it, to post an updated version of it.  I'm afraid I'm starting to lose track of the characters again.


----------



## the Jester

Ahhh, glad to see it before I bail for the Burn! 

Next year, y'all should go out there.  Allegedly, Frukathka is going to.  Join us! [/Palpatine]


----------



## Zad

Re: the drow-things

Yeah they didn't enjoy a good time in their brief life. I'm not sure how much the terrain was the issue per se. Both groups were in a fairly equal state of "hurried preparation" and in that case, fortune usually favors our party. The failed fort saves on the polymorph were very helpful but not what I'd call "pivotal". It would have just cost time more than resources had they made the save. I'm not sure what their hit points were like but most of them seemed to be 1-2 round distractions except the spellcaster who seemed to have the most capacity for impact. We never got much of a sense of their abilities beyond the dim-door type thing and the concealment ability that ended up doing them almost no good at all.

Re: the sorceress/paladin

Cast your mind back back back to our heroes first adventure. (Yeah I know, nobody remembers it. Didn't expect anyone to.) In the Sunless Citadel there was the Gulthias Tree. The tree had "consumed", warped, and subsequently disgorged two members of the first adventuring party: Sharwyn and Sir Bradford. Shatterspike was Sir Bradford's sword in fact. The two were somewhat returned to normal but never fully healed from their experience inside the tree. I decided they were feeling *much* better now.

Re: the NPC's

Sure, I can try to do that. Don't feel bad though - I think it's hard even for some of the players to keep track of all the NPCs.

EDIT: I can't find the original NPC directory so I don't have a starting point. If anyone knows where it's posted, tell me.

Re-edit: I'm not sure I ever really did it. Oh and the question of "what happened to the puppy/kitten?" We hand waved it. They had retained their intelligence though, so yes, we probably killed them.


----------



## LordVyreth

Well, I could elaborate on the Hihoca, but I'm not sure if Dru plans on using them again, so I'll refrain until I hear from him.  I will agree that the lack of preparation definately changed things.  It looks like at least 2 of the Hihoca were high-level casters, and those tend to be in trouble at high levels unless they get their couple dozen magical defenses up.

I did a quick skim of your Story Hour, and I see how you missed it: the only official NPC update was post #27!  Eep!  Not sure how much that'll help at this point.  There are a few other explanatory posts that might help, though.  #65 explained the binders initially.  #81 listed the various gods and cosmic powers the party met to date.  #203 discussed the world at large and the party in particular.  Finally, #235 was the list of Lying Liars the party encountered.  I hope that helps you a bit.

Oh, and I'd like to answer the question I asked earlier; what was my favorite game of yours?  I'd have to go for the Divine Wrath (Egg of Coot) adventure.  The marionettes were simultaneously horrifying and required ingenious planning to defeat them without resorting to killing innocents.   Plus, I'm a bit of a technology-phile, so the magic/machinery juxtaposition was really cool.


----------



## Zad

I suspect I never really created it - it was something I intended to do but never got to it. Easily solved. 

My favorite... hm... tough one. Flight of arrows was very moving from a story standpoint for me personally. The githyanki war was a great feeling of power. The Lich Queen's Beloved was an excellent overall adventure.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Mine was the "Rescue of Gelban." We rocked there.


----------



## Zad

*The Cast of Characters of Wizardru’s Story Hour
(a.k.a. The Savage Sword of Meepo!)*

This listing is for significant NPC’s in the campaign world. The characters are extensively discussed elsewhere but at times it’s very handy to have a way to figure out who’s who. This is not an exhaustive listing of everyone the party has ever seen or fought, but is instead confined to key figures and those that have had more significant roles in story lines.



*Acererack*
An ancient demi-lich who’s mind is so brilliant it now wanders the planes. It was holding one of the theerparts and the party negotiated for it. One of the other key figures notable for not having lied to the party.

*Agner*
A druid in the Land of Black Ice.

*Ali ben Yala*
One of the Djinn princes imprisoned in a binder (the ninth binder)

*Alwyn*
A planetar in Pelor’s service, and something of a personal angel to Dravot

*Aran’gel*
Initially encountered as the Warder of Highfolk, it was later learned that he was an Arcane Archer and the second Prince of Celene. He has instructed Kayleigh in the ways of their craft and there is a romantic relationship between them. Aran’gel has since returned to Celene and resumed some of his Princely duties.

*Ariadne*
Lord Gelban’s daughter and half dragon. She has a fondness for the group and Kayleigh in particular.

*Aris*
Aran’gel’s familiar, a hawk.

*Ashardalon*
A great wyrm and red dragon, he refused to accept death and attempted to prolong himself beyond his years – something sinful to all of dragonkind. His heart was removed when he was defeated by Dydd, his daughter (a halfling). The heart took on a career of its own. Ashardalon was last known to be in the Durance Vile, a demi-plane controlled by the red dragons.

*Bellamy*
Dravot’s instructor in the church of Pelor and head of the church in Hexpools. Currently a ghost, having been killed during a red dragon attack.

*Bellaq*
Druid who tended the Gulthias Tree in the Sunless Citadel. He was killed by the party.

*Binders*
There are nine binders each representing one of the keys to magic and typed to one spell type (conjuration, transmutation, etc.) These artifacts each imprison a Djinn prince and were created during the Sule and Bakluni empire era, in part by the ShadowTaker. The party has destroyed several of the binders, freeing the Princes within.

*Brazen, The*
Head of the brass dragons and friend of the party.

*Brontal*
A blacksmith who became involved in machinations of beings of great power.

*Burning Skin, The*
A member of the old Grey Guild and was involved in some way with the ShadowTaker

*Chance*
One of the three Avatars of Ralishaz, freed from imprisonment on the Astral by the party.

*Chavram*
Dravot’s grandfather, turned into an animus by the Overking. He retained his free will however. He has been scheming for years but his exact goals have been something of a mystery. He has done a fair job of avoiding being the most important thing the party had to do next, and hence has proceeded largely unopposed by the group. He was responsible for the downfall of the giant’s rule in the western Flaness and for revolution and upheaval in the Underdark.

*Cheat*
One of the three Avatars of Ralishaz, freed from imprisonment on the Astral by the party.

*Concordant, The*
A mage working within the guild. He’s a skilled enchanter of items and tinkerer.

*Crescent*
Aethramyr’s riding wolf

*Diamond Prince*
The only surviving Shadow Prince left. There were formerly several, but the Shadow King has usurped or destroyed the others.

*Dirgah*
A giant and sorcerer, he is a figure in the mage’s guild (initially the Grey Guild in Greyhawk, then reformed under Scorch after the guild’s destruction)

*Dormantd*
Lord Gelban’s half titan son.

*Drawmij*
One of the Circle of Eight, he was encountered by the group early in their career but not since.

*Dreamer Prime, The*
She is the leader of the cult of the Dreamer on the Lendore Isles

*Ebonclaw*
Nightscale’s brother. Deceased.

*Egg of Coot, The*
Once a gnome, he was twisted in bizarre ways over years by demonic forces. When encountered by the party, he was a tyrant over the people in the Lands of Black Ice where a large isometril harvesting operation was underway. Deceased.

*Ember*
Scorch’s sister

*Flinch*
Scorch’s familiar, a toad

*Fraz Erb Lu, Demon Prince of Deception*
Name pretty much says it all. He and the party have interacted in various ways over the years. He is suspected of much, but little is proven.

*Fuvex a.k.a. Mortimer Fuvex-vex-vex*
Fuvex contacted the party after their assault on Ru’un Khazai, offering to act as a broker. He resides in Sigil and was involved in the purchasing of a contraband item when the Lady of Pain found out and swept all proximate parties (guilty or not) into a maze. The party and Fuvex worked their way out and they have continued a trading arrangement ever since. Mortimer has made quite a profit from this arrangement and has acted as an agent to dispose of several hard-to-liquidate items.

*Gamble*
One of the three Avatars of Ralishaz, freed from imprisonment on the Astral by the party.

*Gerrin*
Dravot’s younger brother. 

*Gulthias*
A vampire who by some means created or was responsible for the Gulthias Tree seen in the Sunless Citadel. He was lurking in Nightfang Spire during the party’s failed assault. His plant horrors have been seen at varying points during the story. Gulthias himself had never been encountered until very recently. (Although a plant copy had been destroyed at the Great Map.) The party’s first actual encounter with Gulthias was in the Tomb of Acererack, and it would be the last, since Gulthias did not survive it.

*Haldrin*
Paladin encountered in the adventures in the Land of Black Ice.

*Hammer*
A copper dragon, brother to Tongs and Anvil. He is skilled in the forging of things and lives in the Glitterhame now that the party has restored it to its former glory. Speaks with a Scottish accent – think Sean Connery.

*Heart of Ashardalon*
The disembodied heart of Ashardalon. It was worshipped by Gulthias and contained in Nightfang Spire until it was leveled. It went missing for years until the party discovered it in the crypt of Acererack. Pelor used Dravot as his vessel and destroyed the Heart.

*Infernus*
A red dragon great wyrm, analogous to Lord Gelban.

*Isometril*
A metal with unusual properties.

*Jonathan*
The “Mage” of the “Valley of the Mage”. The Mage has always been named Jonathan.

*Judges*
The collective body of celestials that serve Ralishaz ejecting outsiders from the Prime.

*Kalten*
Dravot’s brother, turned into an animus.

*Kargoth*
We’re not really sure what he is, outside of a powerful servant of Orcus.

*Karloth*
A githyanki rebel who took over the fortress of Ru’un Khazai and hid it in an astral storm until the party killed him. The fortress was built on the sleeping god Ralishaz and upon releasing his avatars, Ralishaz was awakened.

*Lord Gelban a.k.a. The Gilden*
Lord Gelban was the original patron of the party. He was a wealthy merchant in Greyhawk. He is also a gold dragon, and the leader of a council of metallic dragons. He has gone from patron to partner over the years and, when captured by the chromatics, was rescued by the party.

*Marcus*
A druid of some power. The party encountered him early in their career but it turned out it wasn’t actually Marcus but someone impersonating him. Marcus reappeared later after the collapse of the druidic order and became the Grand Druid, winning the contest among the leading druids.

*Meepo*
Kobold rescued from the Sunless Citadel. He’s was a wimpering cowardly thing, but he knew a good thing when he saw it and latched on to the party paladin (Aethramyr/Jozan). He has since done quite a bit and is the de-facto governor of Kobold Country.

*Melf a.k.a. Prince Melf Brightflame*
Eldest son of the Queen of Celene and Aran’gel’s brother, he is the heir apparent, although he has little desire to rule.

*Meltorannan*
A celestial formerly in Pelor’s service who revolted with others to serve what he believed was the greater good. He now serves Ralishaz as one of the Judges.

*Mordenkainen*
One of the Circle of Eight, he was encountered by the group early in their career but not since. During one attempt to contact him, he was rude, and as the party has grown in power they have questioned whether he is a true player in world affairs.

*Nasir a.k.a. The Cupric*
The head of the copper dragons and acted in human form as Lord Gelban’s secretary.

*Nightscale*
A black dragon residing in the Glitterhame (Forge of Fury). Decesased.

*Olidamarra*
Diety encountered by the group under Castle Greyhawk and then on other occasions later. During the first encounter, some sort of link was created with Kayleigh and Olidamarra has an interest in her, or perhaps simply uses her as a vehicle.

*Onselven*
Senior advisor to the Queen of Celene.

*Paravandr*
A gold dragon. During Lord Gelban’s capture, he lead the council and the gold dragons, until he was forcibly ousted upon Lord Gelban’s return.

*Parsalan*
An elven battle priest of Corellean – used as a vehicle for story telling and not a character of note.

*Platinar, The*
A silver dragon, and can be considered the “second in command” of the Silvers.

*Prestwick*
Head of Pelor’s church in Greyhawk, and a church elder.

*Primals, The*
There are several primals, each representing some (aptly) primal force. The disease primal is known to be under Brindinford, and the water primal in Kalstrand. If released, a Primal would wreak untold destruction on the plane.

*Prince Sumez ben Taal*
Djinn prince who occupied one of the binders. The first freed by the party, and a known liar. 

*Queen of Celene*
Her Majesty is rarely referenced by name. She rules Celene, and is therefore due Kayleigh’s allegiance. She is an interesting personality and controls one of the major binders – the divination binder. Kayleigh has easy access to her and the Queen respects Kayleigh’s opinion.  

*Ralishaz*
Old Sule god of chance, he eventually escaped his prison and then became a major diety of the prime to help enforce some level of order with regard to extra-planar visitors. Formed a link with Valanthe during the first encounter under Castle Greyhawk.

*Rasha*
Kayleigh’s familiar, a cat

*Ravenna*
Rackhir’s wife, who was impersonated by a demon, imprisoned in the Land of Black Ice, and freed by the party.

*Red Lord, The*
A figure in the Scarlet Brotherhood. The party has suspected his involvement in various things but never faced him. He was believed at one point to be holding a theerpart.

*Roget (a.k.a. Bubba the Bebbilith) *
Dravot’s eldest brother, who was killed some years before the story began. He returned during one adventure but it was later learned it was a demon in disguise. This bebbilith was also the same creature who impersonated Ravenna, Rackhir’s wife. 

*Sebastian*
Dravot’s half-brother, he appeared in several adventures until he was killed by the party while in pursuit of a binder.

*Seltan the Fellsoul*
A blackguard encountered by the group in Brindinford then years later again as an assassin sent to kill them.

*Shadow King, The*
Little is known directly about the Shadow King except he is a force of power on the Shadow Plane. The party eventually learned that he is in fact a shadow of Therizdun.

*ShadowTaker, The*
An ancient lich (worm that walks, technically) who had manipulated events on the Prime for centuries. His network of spies and dominated pawns infected every power center in the plane. Destroyed by the party.

*Silverring, The*
A great wyrm silver dragon, the oldest living dragon. Over the years he has had to rest more and more. 

*Slerotin*
A crony of Zinkman’s – this being is supposedly the same being as Johnathan and Scorch.

*Solostarn, The Celenean*
A Leshay, who has an interest in the protection of Celene and the Champions.

*Steffania*
Dravot’s younger sister

*Taen the Clearcutt*
An evil druid responsible for the destruction of Aethramyr’s village and an assault on the World Tree.

*Tatterdemelion, The*
Refers to both an individual and a type of undead created by the followers of Wee Jas. (The individual is the first of that kind.) A small squad of them assisted the party in their assault of the underwater conference Chavram was holding.

*The Owl*
This gnome was leading a resistance group in the Land of Black Ice fighting the Egg of Coot. When the Egg was destroyed by the party, she became the leader of that community. She is one of the very few NPC’s in the campaign who have never lied to the party.

*Theerpart*
There are three theerparts – law, chaos, and neutrality. They are artifacts of unknown power and are the three parts of the key to the prison of Therizdun. The party has slowly been seeking to use the parts to re-scramble the lock to the prison, cutting off the shadow leaking from the prison and hence destroying the Shadow King.

*Thora*
Dravot’s sister and administrative head of the family.

*Thorkeld*
The Lion of Brindinford, he is a paladin of Pelor and traditional protector of Dravot’s family. He sometimes travels with the party, but as the power of their foes has increased, Thorkeld is sometimes hard pressed to survive.

*Tongs*
Sister to Hammer and Anvil, a copper dragon. Took Kayleigh and Aethramyr to rescue Aran’gel in Flight of Arrows.

*Venn*
A human wizard who was in the Land of Black Ice and partially insane. Venn’s sanity has gone through various levels over time. He has been the carrier for a theerpart for a time and he was also a vessel for Ralishaz prior to his ascension to a god of the Prime.

*Verilunda*
One of Valanthe’s companion shadows and Aethramyr’s aunt.

*Vitaesis*
A crystal-like element that has several colors with different alignment-driven properties.

*Zara*
son of the Caliph of Ekbir, he is a paladin of Pelor and hunter of the dead. Was cursed for a long time such that he and his sister Zira shared the same form – she in the daytime, he in the night.

*Zinkman ad Zol*
A nutjob. Zinkman was Emperor of the Sule and arguably insane then. He was banished to the Far Realms for centuries (does time matter there?) and was returned to the Prime by the party at the Silverring’s request. Slerotin was a cohort of his and had many clones. Scorch is one of these clones, placed in “foster care” by Zinkman.

*Zira*
Daughter of the Caliph of Ekbir, she is a paladin of Pelor. Was cursed for a long time such that she and her brother Zara shared the same form – she in the daytime, he in the night. Currently engaged to Dravot.


----------



## LordVyreth

Wow, that was fast!  I appreciate your effort; that should be very helpful.  I might have to go over it to see if there's anyone missing or that I would like more information, but it looks pretty complete.  The only name that comes to name so far is the Khrel Hr’dad.  

It's pretty amusing to me the way the Circle of Eight is so margianalized in your campaign.  They sort of jumped from "awe-inspiring heroes" to "don't even get invited to the meetings" somewhere mid-campaign.  I actually half-expected them to have been wiped out in the Githyanki Incursion at this point.


----------



## WizarDru

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Wow, that was fast!  I appreciate your effort; that should be very helpful.  I might have to go over it to see if there's anyone missing or that I would like more information, but it looks pretty complete.  The only name that comes to name so far is the Khrel Hr’dad.
> 
> It's pretty amusing to me the way the Circle of Eight is so margianalized in your campaign.  They sort of jumped from "awe-inspiring heroes" to "don't even get invited to the meetings" somewhere mid-campaign.  I actually half-expected them to have been wiped out in the Githyanki Incursion at this point.




Well, when they were 2nd level characters, they had already met two members of the Circle of Eight...one was odd and the other arrogant.  The others they eventually met were already tainted by Mordankainen's first impression.  Originally, the Circle consisted of 17-20th level wizards.  Post-ELH, a few got a boost to Epic Levels.  Those characters survive.  One thing I try to strive for is the impression that the world is bigger than just the party's actions; other people are up to their own agendas and plans, which may not always make sense.  Some things develop in complete separation of the party's involvement or because of their presence/absence from particular events.

In some cases, NPCs take up the slack; the party can't defend the whole Flanaess.  Folks like Melf, Aran'gel and the Celenian defend against the forces of Turrosh Mak, for example.  The party has known of the Mak's aggresion since prior to the Forge of Fury...but then they weren't capable of dealing with the problem, and now they'd be wasting their time unless they did a full-on assualt against the Mak's assembled war machine.  And so it goes.

The Circle have become basically a drastically weakend power-group.  However, they were never on the ins with the Scaled Council, since they are primarily agents of neutrality...very aggresive agents of neutrality, in fact.  Mordankanien is capable of evil acts, if it maintains his prescious balance.  The party most likely would dislike him more than some of their enemies, if they don't already.  Case in point: when the party freed Gelban, they held the ancient Blue dragon with respect; he was direct, to the point and neither asked nor offered quarter.  He was an adversary with no hidden agenda; "Kill me if you can!"  Mordankanein, on the other hand, is all about hidden plots and such things...so Scorch would probably slap him and call him Susan, if given half a chance. 

Oh, and the post of Jonathan?  It's been filled.


----------



## Zad

The Krel Hr'dad are a new element. Mostly I did this by skimming the 650 pages of old stuff. I was mostly trying to capture the beings (or terms) that came up over the long term. I'm not entirely sure they'll be a long-term plot element but next time I'm in there, I'll add 'em.

The Eight are... odd (out fo character) and I'd probably say "irrelevant" in character. They were really awe-inspiring and it was a "wow" thing when we first met the ones we did. Then they just didn't invovle themselves for a long time. When finally we were much more powerful and had a big problem and tried to contact Mordenkainen, he blew us off totally and that's when I think we just started ignoring them. Too many global threats have popped up where they did absolutely nothing (githyanki) and I think we consider them marginal players at this point. Certainly that could change if they bothered to involve themselves visibly, but I'm not counting on it.

I was looking at the same "The players and the world around them" entry that you were looking at, and it's dated March, 2003. I considered updating it but when I started I realized it's just more of the same trend. In the beginning, the party was a lackey and hired hand. Then they became "trusted lieutenants", then a powerful force on their own, and occasionally "right hand of god". 

As of today, I'd say they are probably seen as one of the most significant power blocks on the Prime. Not in a political or network sense of course, although we've been trying to become more like a real power in that regard. But they are like a wing of very powerful strike fighters - if they chose to pay you a visit, you will have problems and things will be different afterward. Our biggest weakness is we have to rely on outside intelligence to know where to point ourselves.

Factions we used to work "for", we now work "with". We are, at the very least, seen as equals (by us and by them, at least I think so.) To gain our cooperation, we must be asked and engaged and convinced, not simply sent. In that respect, we're something of a wildcard - if you're a bad guy, it's hard to know what we're going to go after next. Your best hope for control is to continually place large, evil breadcrumbs in our path so we go after those each time we think "what next?"  If we're left to decide on our own, anything could happen.

There are some groups we will take direction from - our respective gods of course, Queen of Celene for me, etc. But anyone else is usually better served to entice rather than order.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Bolo does what ever his pipe weed tells him to do.


----------



## LordVyreth

So how was your weekend?  Did you get a game in for the regular campaign or take advantage of Labor Day and have a more regular vacation?


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Sorry I wasn't able to make it so they played the beta game. Alpha this weekend. Bolo has draconian butt to kick.


----------



## LordVyreth

Excellent.  My game's still in a "online D&D is hard" hiatus, so your game helps fill the gaps.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> Sorry I wasn't able to make it so they played the beta game. Alpha this weekend. Bolo has draconian butt to kick.



I'm either prophetic or in trouble. Wizardru wants my copy of the Draconomicon.


----------



## Len

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> I'm either prophetic or in trouble. Wizardru wants my copy of the Draconomicon.



Rip out the toughest ones.


----------



## dravot

Game night!

Will the Silverring die?

Who's Jonathan now?

What else is happening on the Prime?


----------



## Graywolf-ELM

Has scorch, seen the contest at castlemolds?  Some of his work, shown here is quite worthy of the contests as far as I remember.

http://www.castlemolds.com/hadd/hadd.html

Anyone have a ready link for his discussion of creating these pieces of art?

GW

PS:  Oops, looks like this contest is over, it was in August, and I am yet again behind.


----------



## dravot

Zad's up to his armpits in alligators and he's all out of whifflebats, so no update today.  Prolly tomorrow, but he said that'll depend on the alligators.

It was an interesting session, in which both very little, and quite a lot happened, depending on how you want to look at it.

I think we rolled very few dice all evening.


----------



## WizarDru

dravot said:
			
		

> I think we rolled very few dice all evening.



*
WizarDru:* _Give me a spot check...no, wait.  What do you get if you take 10?_
*Zad*: [checks papers] Uhh...a 54.  NO! A 58.
*WizarDru*: _Never mind, then.  You notice a plain looking man....._


And so it goes.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Last game was an exercize in asking Please.

Bolo had a heart to Heart with EVIL and walked away unscathed. and hopefully made an inroad to becoming evil himself. Oh wait. that wasn't supposed to come out. 


Yet.


----------



## Scorch

Graywolf-ELM said:
			
		

> Has scorch, seen the contest at castlemolds?  Some of his work, shown here is quite worthy of the contests as far as I remember.
> 
> http://www.castlemolds.com/hadd/hadd.html
> 
> Anyone have a ready link for his discussion of creating these pieces of art?
> 
> GW
> 
> PS:  Oops, looks like this contest is over, it was in August, and I am yet again behind.




Yeah, I know about the Design Derby.  Truth be told I am content just to build these things and use them occasionally in our games.  Thanks for the shout out, though   

Scorch out...


----------



## Zad

*Strange Bedfellows - Chapter 1*

*Strange Bedfellows – Chapter 1*

OOC Notes:
Exp: 3000 (everyone is 25)

This Week’s Adventure:
I would have expected this group of the powerful and influential to be less disturbed by the sudden appearance of an armed party. I think the concern was not so much driven by our sudden appearance as it was by the fact that we found the location. Nonetheless I took the time to look around quickly while the noise died down.

Chavram stood silently, unperturbed by the whole thing (making him one of the few). Behind him stood Dravot’s father and brother, and there was a pair of storm giants behind them. And then something else… A creature that I thought was only slightly taller than Chavram until I noticed it was kneeling behind him. Dravot was barely able to recognize him from portraits – his great grandfather.

The forum was in a large circle with more formidable entities towards the center, including the dragons, and others at the periphery. I noticed a high ranking official of Heironeous – cleric or paladin, I could not be sure. The druids had emissaries, though not Marcus himself. The Owl was there, and in the inner circle interestingly enough. Near The Owl was a creature with alabaster skin with a pearlescent sheen and with a muted gender wearing silks. Slightly further back I saw another adventuring party – my cursory glance told me they worked for the Council, and while they were not mere amateurs, nor had they crossed over.

There was plenty of noise, and more than a few drawn weapons and breath weapons readied. I took it in with a casual patience, waiting for it to settle. None of my companions seemed particularly threatened either, for that matter.

Lord Gelban finally raised his voice and boomed out “PEACE! Peace! I did not realize they would be arriving so soon to this Tribunal.” Then he said to us as much as to the assembled group “Let me make this clear – this is a truce ground. If you cannot abide by that, then leave now.” He was taking some pains not to look directly at Chavram, but I suspected he might have also been worried we would do something… rash.

The assembly started to calm down. Reactions varied from “Oh it’s them,” to “Oh is that THEM!?!?” to “Thank heavens they’re finally here,” and so on. It seemed clear that everyone knew us at least by reputation if not by sight.

“I suggest we take a brief recess and refocus our thoughts. Agreed?” Gelban said. It was clear he was running this meeting and from the arrangements and whom he looked it, only some of the attendees got a say in the proceedings. The Council was consulted, as were the druids, the priest of Heironeous, The Owl, and a few others. The adventurers were not, which spoke volumes. I noticed a mage, a cleric of Corelleon, a dwarf in leathers, and a halfling spellcaster with what looked to be a Staff of Power.

There were no objections and the group began milling about. 

A nondescript human walked directly to Scorch. He was confident but with no obvious power. 

Bolo took a guess and said “Hello Jonathan.” 

He was wrong. “You have me confused. I am not Jonathan. But I serve Jonathan. I am here on behalf of the Valley of the Mage. I wanted to clarify that the offer is no longer available, but more importantly, my master would appreciate the discussion of some form of truce. It is apparent that you have had issues in the past.”

The contempt flowed from Scorch. “Let me guess: The Burning Skin.”

The man nodded. “This is a name my master once used before his ascension.”

All of us glared at the man and it was clear that had the Burning Skin been here personally, he wouldn’t have lasted ten seconds. Even this impassive man found himself retreating a step before our collective stare. Valanthe said to me quietly, but loud enough for the man to hear “Put ‘Kill Jonathan’ on our list of things to do.” I nodded.

Scorch still had a score to settle, but there were other things on his mind right now. He waved his hand dismissively and said “For now. There are more important things in play right now than settling our score with your master. So for now, there will be a truce.”

The man bowed slightly and withdrew. Smart man.

Lord Gelban finished his conversation and leaned down. “My friends it has been 11 days since we last spoke. I don’t know when Zinkman began exerting control exactly. The active effects on the Silverring occurred some six days ago when I tried to reach him when we discovered the demon armies were on the march. We have taken to labeling them Zinkman Silver and Zinkman Black since the Zinkman in Ru’un Khazai is also an issue. We also noticed the lack of Judges. We realized five days ago the Judges were dealing with incursions from gates that Zinkman Silver had ripped open. I believe the dreamer is dead and cannot be restored at this time. A sizable percentage of the people in the Lendores have been turned into monstrosities. The Judges are barely holding back the tide and are trying to contain them to the islands.”

“Ralishaz is a deity of the Prime – shouldn’t he be more powerful here?” I asked.

“Zinkman has found another loophole in the Interdiction, though not a direct one. The Far Realms are not part of the goverened realms – they have no gods. Thus the Interdiction does not quite apply.”

We groaned collectively. I idly commented “I knew we shouldn’t have brought him back with us.”

Lord Gelban said “I think there was a kernel of truth about Zinkman and the binders but he is rapidly becoming an asset we cannot tap. We’re not sure what Zinkman Black is up to – he has begun altering a section of the Prime around Ru’un Khazai to suit him and it is an impenetrable sphere even Judges cannot enter. Before losing contact, Meepo indicated they had discovered a demoness in their midst and he said something about the Inevitables and they would deal with it somehow.” 

He added “We have sent three squads to assassinate Zinkman Silver but they have failed. Our resources are stretched thin. Your return alters the balance of power considerably, perhaps even bringing us even.”

Aethramyr asked “And what do we know of the Khel Hr’dad? We know they are on the march.”

Lord Gelban winced. “Not enough. They are on the march and not in a hurry either. As if they didn’t care if anyone knew. One is in the Bright Desert. Another was somewhere in the west.”

Dravot noted “We saw one near Kalstrand some days ago – that’s probably him.”

That reminded me of the “package” we had to hand off for the time being. We had agreed before coming that no mention would be made of the theerpart, Acererack, or Gulthias or the Heart. There was no need for our enemies to know of these things. I said to Lord Gelban “We also have an item that needs safe-keeping for now,” and I indicated the small ark that Aethramyr was holding. Lord Gelban needed no other prompting to know what it was. 

“Which one is it?” he asked.

We exchanged a lot of puzzled looks – I had no idea. (“The evil one?” “They’re all evil ones.” And so on.) Dravot indicated it was the Neutral part, and Lord Gelban waved a claw at The Cupric to come over.

The Cupric didn’t ask. Just complained. “Oh certainly. I’d be happy to take this off your hands and have it festering in my demi-plane. Why it would be a pleasure.” And he grumped away. Lord Gelban said “That gives us all three then.”

“Three?” about half of us asked. “The last was in the hands of the Red Lord in Rauxes last we knew.”

“Apparently Chavram recovered it. Said something about taking care of the Scarlet Brotherhood at your request, Dravot.”

Fascinating.

Bolo then spoke up. This was a warning sign in itself. “Lord Gelban, you should know that…”

About this time, he got many stares, grunts and gestures to stop and not say any more. But this is Bolo – why would that stop him? That would require critical thinking.

“that Ashardalon’s heart…”

More whistles, stares, gestures, and other rather clear indications that this was not a topic to be discussed in the open. Maybe he thought whispering would make it all better. That would of course carry the requisite assumption that “he thought.” 

“… has been destroyed.”

Now, it is undeniable that this is important information. It is also, I believe, equally undeniable that it did not have to be reported at this time. It could have waited til a more private moment away from so many prying eyes and ears. All eyes were focused on us since our arrival, waiting. They may not all have been able to hear, but I’m sure the more powerful ones had plenty of ways. This could have waited rather than revealing it for the world to know.

[OOC: Wizardru said: “Ok you have to understand guys. This is a Star Trek convention. And you are the entire NextGen crew (or first crew, even the dead ones) who just walked out unannounced in a group and are standing on stage whispering. They may not know what you’re saying but you are focus of everyone there just the same.” The analogy is… disturbing. ]

Bolo thought this was nonsense I suppose. He may however have had occasion to re-think that when a figure wrapped in black clothes fell out of a tree as Bolo finished his statement. 

Lord Gelban rolled his eyes. “He is a representative of the reds. He has no voice here but he is their emissary.”

I felt like strangling Bolo. Not to kill him – just to strangle him a bit. Through clenched teeth I said “This… could… have… waited.”

Lord Gelban was not pleased at the information being out either but his mind was more focused on what next. “It is possible that this may serve our interests for our enemies to know you have destroyed something so powerful. This might work to our advantage.” I wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince us or himself. I know he didn’t convince me.

Bolo then started to mention a certain vampire but was shouted down and at least this time had the sense to remain silent.

Lord Gelban withdrew to speak to another dragon while we milled about. Chavram took the opportunity to speak to his grandson. “It pleases me to see you here. You have expanded your abilities. This pleases me. And you have recovered some research that will aid you in your destiny.”

Dravot bristled at doing anything Chavram liked. “Yes. I have.”

Chavram snapped his fingers and one of his attendants handed him a book. He handed the book to Dravot. “This tome will give you information that will help you restore your father to life. It will take about two days but is fairly simple.” Chavram said to his son “Go with him.” The animus moved silently to Dravot’s side.

Dravot was understandably skeptical. “And what do I owe you for this?”

“Why nothing of course. You have fulfilled all that I have asked. It was, after all, always meant to be reversible. Do you take me for some idiot enchanter who could not convert them fully? But I can no longer motivate you in ways I used to. So you may restore them. Both of them.” And he waved to Kaltin to join Dravot.

“I am not prepared to go, Grandfather,” Kaltin said

Chavram was clearly weary of Kaltin’s defiance. “What, you have something better to do?”

“Yes,” he said solemnly. “Keeping an eye on _him_,” indicating Chavram’s father. “What if another episode occurs? It is in everyone’s best interests.” Kaltin turned to Dravot “I will come home in time, brother.”

Dravot said “It pains me that you will not return now, but I understand. You have free will,” and then he stopped and asked Chavram “He does have free will, doesn’t he?”

Chavram rolled his eyes. “Oh yes. Of that you can be sure.”

Kaltin tried to reassure Dravot. “Soon, brother.”

Chavram said “It is almost done. My tasks are nearly complete, then you can destroy me. You would not benefit from my destruction as you once would, but there is so much to do.”

Dravot’s eyes narrowed, “I look forward to that day.”

The tribunal reconvened, Lord Gelban slowly bringing things back to order. “So the Silverring must be destroyed. Not all of you agree, or some may not participate, but we agree as a group. Then comes the question of how. Three attempts have been made so far, and failed. Wounds heal as fast as they are made and he seems immune to all manner of breath weapons and elements. Brazen, please show them.”

The Brazen conjured an image of the Silverring. Growing from his shoulder was a vaguely humanoid shape from the torso up. “I am lead to believe this thing began growing out of him after a recent slumber. Zinkman somehow implanted himself into the Silverring. This one appears to have a greater sense of self, as opposed to Zinkman Black who seems more crazed. About six days ago, this Zinkman ripped open a rent in the Prime and created a large gate through which have poured horrors from the Far Realms. From here it is as much conjecture as fact.”

The Brazen shifted slightly as he went on. “An ever-more-powerful cascading series of creatures have flowed in through the gate. They caught some of the people of the Testing unaware. The Dreamer however was not caught completely off guard and mounted an emergency defense. Some creatures as far away as the Vast Swamp and Hipmonoland and the Yeomanry have been tainted. His motives are unclear – it is possible he may be trying to distract the Judges. The Judges have not committed fully, fearing this same thing. At least Meltorannan has indicated this possibility. The Three have been silent on this subject and Ralishaz has ignored all attempts to contact him.”

“The Dreamer used the last of her energy to mount a defense and rally those left. The defenders are being slowly pushed to the sea and are being evacuated with the help of the sea elves. The main island is nearly empty. We are not even sure if we can seal his gate or stop Zinkman. The creatures are building some kind of hive structure at a central point however.”

I asked “So how do we stop the Silverring?”

The Brazen answered “The Silverring is the oldest living dragon. He has access to magics even Gelban can’t cast. He is nearly invulnerable to us so far. We believe he is drawing power from three places – The Silverring, The Far Realms, and the Binders.”

“So it is logical for us to at least cut off the one source that we can – the Binders,” I said.

Lord Gelban said “There is some question as to whether destroying the Binders truly impedes him. Even without the Princes, their power may still be available to him. Still it hurts us little to attempt it, and it may aid us much.”

Scorch turned to Chavram “And would you give us the three Binders you control, knowing we would destroy them?”

I could hear stray murmurs from the crowd. Some didn’t even know what a binder was, while others were shocked to know some were here and others were destroyed. 

Chavram said coldly “I will not give them to _you_.”

Dravot asked “Will you give them to me?”

Chavram replied “I will give them to you, Grandson.”

But there was a problem. “This is useful, but it may be moot,” I said. “I suspect we would be best served by destroying all of the binders. And at the moment, there are two of them that we cannot account for. Another entity has been gathering binders and got to two of them before you did, Chavram.” Most of the group did not know of the binder in Celene but anyone who did the math did not speak of the missing binder that at least some of us did know of.

Chavram, to my surprise, had information. “I am aware of this. But I do not believe it is a new entity that has claimed these two, but rather someone who already had one.” He stared at me as he said this, waiting.

“If true, then we can destroy the binders, and then mount an attack on the Silverring,” I said, grasping Chavram’s full meaning.

The comment passed with very little question, for which I was very grateful. I wasn’t sure if what Chavram said was true, but it was certainly plausible, and easy to verify. 

There was little other discussion from there. Lord Gelban turned the discussion to the details of the assault. In prior attacks, the non-dragons were turned into creatures of chaos, while the dragons were “sent” somewhere.

The First Knight of Heironeous spoke. “I prefer a good sword slash in these matters. But it is clear to me, as it is to many of us here, that this is beyond our capabilities. Nonetheless, I pledge my cadre to your cause, if it will help.”

Bolo speculated “If Zinkman draws power from the Far Realms, then we should face him there.”

The prospect of that terrified me. Fortunately I wasn’t alone. A human representative, serving as a proxy for Rary the Traitor apparently, twitched and was co-opted by his master. “That would be… inadvisable. He has likely found some great source of power. He may have a chaos seed within him, perhaps trying to corrupt the entire plane. That would be… inconvenient.”

The discussions continued on the attack, and it became clear that while we never were asked nor stated we would go, not only were we going, but we were the de facto leaders of the assault. This was not troubling to me in any way, I simply note it as I reflect that there was never any question or argument that it would be up to us to lead this effort. We settled on a plan of reconnaissance-in-force – something we’ve always excelled at. The formal discussion concluded and separate conversations were held to discuss the exact members of the strike force. 

I took a moment to speak to the Platinar. I always found him to be a kind, noble dragon, and I knew the events unfolding would be deeply troubling to him. I went to him and asked “How are you doing?”

His face held a profound sadness. “I never desired this position.” He was the heir-apparent to lead the silvers if the Silverring was destroyed.

“I know you don’t. But we may be able to save him yet,” I said softly.

He whispered quietly “I will go with you on this mission. Do not speak of it aloud though – the Council would forbid it. Three times the Gilden has tried to take the field and they have refused him. We cannot afford to lose him. But there are others who could replace me.” 

“I understand. I will be glad to fight at your side and will welcome it. I would do the same in your position.” I’m not sure if I helped any, but I had to try.

“One more thing,” he said. “Hammer, Tongs and Anvil will wish go to. Do not let them. This will be too much for them.”

I nodded in agreement. “I have great love for those three, especially Tongs who helped me when I sorely needed it. But this is beyond their ken. I would not have them die this way.” I put a hand on the dragon’s massive foreleg, and stood with him for a moment in silence, doing my best to share some strength with him, then left him in peace when another dragon needed to speak to him.

Chavram approached Dravot again. He removed two rings and a necklace, each a miniature version of a binder. “I warn you: do not attempt to use them. You should know by now that the binders were never meant to be together for any period of time. Should you attempt to use them it would be… unpleasant.” He hand them to Dravot, who took them without attempting to take control of them.

I looked at Aethramyr. “I guess it’s up to me then. I’ll be back.” And I teleported to the palace.

The palace was on a military footing but I didn’t bother to ask why. After being checked thoroughly by a guardian mage, I made for the throne room. As the guards opened the door, I could see there were no supplicants and very few courtiers milling about, trying to look important. I made my way down the long carpet to the throne where I could see the Queen and Onselven talking quietly. As I passed a small group of courtiers I simply pointed at them, then towards the door. This was not for their ears.

They looked towards the Queen who by now had seen me coming. She waved them out and they departed quickly. I approached the throne and curtsied. The Queen dismissed the formality. “What brings you before Us today?”

I wasted no time. “Your Majesty, how many binders do you control?”

There was a long pause. “That is a rather… direct question, my daughter.”

I paused and considered. “Indeed, Your Majesty. And your answer speaks volumes. You do have them.”

She nodded, her suspicions confirmed. “Yesterday We consulted the divination binder. It foretold that you would come. But it could not see events unfolding tomorrow and there could only be one explanation. And so it is.”

She went on. “Allow Us to save you the effort: Yes, I am the one who secured the two unclaimed binders. I helped to hide them many years ago so I knew where they were. And yes, I will give them to you, knowing what you intend to do.”

But I was hesitant. No. Not hesitant – scared. “Your Majesty, do we sacrifice Celene for the sake of the world? The binder has helped keep our kingdom safe.”

If she shared my fear, she did not show it. It may have been just for my sake, but I was glad for it all the same. “Corelleon will protect us, as he always has.”

I nodded, and she beckoned me to follow her down to the binder chamber. She pulled out two small boxes, each velvet-lined and containing one of the sets of swirling rings. She cautioned me “Do not attempt to use them. Having them close to each other is very dangerous.” 

“I understand. Chavram told us of the dangers when he handed over his three,” I told her. It was unnecessary though – she knew I would not come here unless all the other binders were secured.

She released the wards around the first binder, but then hesitated. “We would look upon our sons one last time.” The binder showed Melf and Aran’gel together on march somewhere, chatting casually. Then they looked more cross, and began trying to punch each other in the shoulder from horseback like they were fifty-year-olds.

The Queen’s rolled her eyes and I sighed. “One of these is the future King?”

“We find it helps not to think of it too often,” she said dryly.

The image faded as the Queen relaxed her concentration. I stared at the binder for a long time, wondering if this was the right thing to do. If this did not weaken the Silverring, then I have weakened Celene for nothing.

In the end, all I was left with was faith in Corellean. Slightly to my surprise, that faith was enough.

“Prince Uufhez ben Daman,” I said. The wispy form resolved to something more substantial. “You know what comes next. Will you go with me?”

The Prince nodded silently. The Queen passed her hand in front of the binder and it shrunk to a more transportable size. I placed the binder in a third box and without further discussion prepared to leave. As I was about to depart, she said to me “Be careful, my daughter.”

I returned to the tribunal. It was only later that I realized that while Her Majesty had called me “my child”, she had never called me “my daughter” before this day.

**********************

I returned with a great deal less commotion than on our first arrival. The rest of the party was talking to Lord Gelban and I approached, nervous about getting too close to Dravot. Everyone turned towards me as I walked up.

“I have the remaining three binders,” I said, offering no more detail. Aethramyr gave me a comforting look, trying to assure me it was the right thing.

“Then we better take care of this straight away,” Scorch said. He got no argument. “Let’s head for the Great Map then.”

One of the druids stopped us. He wore green and brown in his tunic and trousers and had two blades strapped across his back. The druidic representatives had been generally less surly than they might have been, but Bolo was the only one of us who got anything better than open disdain. “If you will give me a moment, I will warn the defenders and have them stand down. It will be less… complicated this way.”

We nodded and he merged into a nearby tree, returning a few minutes later to tell us the way was clear. We arrived at the grove and made our way to the map room. There was a tension in the air and when we activated the resident janni, he knew what we had and why we had come.

Suppressing the great magic of the binders was fairly straightforward – the trick would be breaking them quickly enough. The binders would all have to be destroyed very quickly otherwise the feedback would destroy us. The problem was that Shatterspike was the only weapon that could break the rings. 

Fortunately with Shatterspike comes Aethramyr. Scorch stopped time and suppressed all the binders in an instant, and then Aethramyr launched into a whirlwind of cuts shattering ring after ring. As each binder fell apart, the djinn prince took his normal form, then faded back to the elemental planes. The last to fall was the first of the binders, and the first I knew – the divination binder, Prince Uufhez ben Daman. He lingered before returning home.

“It is over then,” he said quietly. “I give you a boon in return for your faithful help, well given, and well intended. To stop the Shadowking, the prophecy says you must combine as one. The elements must flow through you, Aethramyr. That is why you were chosen with this new form and the new blade. You must strike the blow. You must not die again. Equal and opposites of each type will flow through you. It is the only way.”

“Be well, my friends. You have weakened the madman. This I know.” And with that, he faded away.

The map stepped forward into the broken rings smashed onto the floor. “Thank you for ending over a millennia of servitude. If you are ever traveling the elemental planes, seek us. We will gladly provide succor.”

I smiled. “Please, if you would be so kind, take back with you a message to Prince Sumez and the others. When we are able, we will visit for a celebration of your freedom.”

The janni bowed deep. “He is a liar, but he throws a wonderful party.” And the janni too returned home.

On our way out of the chamber, we encountered a priest of Wee Jas. It took a moment to place him but we did now him from the Land of Black Ice. He bowed politely. “I have negotiated with the druids to remove the isometril.”

After a moment he shrewdly added “Providing of course that you have no objections?”

We nodded collectively. “That is probably for the best,” said Dravot. 

****************************

We returned to the tribunal, our immediate task done. Most of the rest of the assault team had been selected – some paladins of Heironeous, several dragons, and Rary was sending some henchmen. Lord Gelban was keeping the other adventuring party behind. He said nothing of it, but it was clear to me that he viewed them as not ready for this challenge, and as potential substitutes should we fall. 

So all that was left was to go kill a friend.


----------



## the Jester

Excellent update!


----------



## Argent Silvermage

*Bolo and Chavram*

After The binders were given to Dravot chavram was led away by his grandson Kalten. While the others dallied over the Three binders Bolo approached the grandfather of one of his beloved friends. "May I speak with you a moment Chavram?" 

The evil one looked back at the Janni druid and the look of exhaustion was evident even on the living dead. "What do you want Druid?" 

"I want to thank you Sir. It is obvious you love your grandson very much. Having the binders and destroying them wil save the world. You have done a great good this day. Whether you choose to think of it in that way or not. So once again.Thank you." Bolo said and bowed deeply.
Chavram's face was unreadable but the tone of his voice was soft and heartfelt, "Please If you love your friend make sure he never uses the Binders. It will be disasterous."
"I promise Sir." Bolo said "Know that I have always had Dravot's best interests in heart. Just as I know you have as well." Bolo reached out to touch the man he now truely saw as Dravot's grandpa not as the evil he may actually be. "Is there anything I can do to help you?"
One of the Giants put his foot in front of Bolo and said "No Further! You will not touch him." 
Bolo stopped only out of respect for Gelban's Dictum of truce. "Another time Sir. I have to go watch your grandson and convey your concerns to him." He returned to the group just after Kayleigh left for Celene.


----------



## LordVyreth

So all the binders, finally, are destroyed, and the theerparts are gathered.  No more MacGuffins.  And meanwhile the party's home base is endangered.  That's a hell of an update.  It sounds like the upcoming fight will be a good one.  

Oh, and I think I know the answer but just to clarify; Arengel's brother Melf isn't the same as the Circle of Eight Melf, right?  And on that note, it's amusing after my comments following the cast list that when the party finally interacts with a Circle of Eight connection again, it's Rary the Traitor.


----------



## thatdarncat

hey, two storyhour updates for my birthday  Thanks!


----------



## Argent Silvermage

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> So all the binders, finally, are destroyed, and the theerparts are gathered.  No more MacGuffins.  And meanwhile the party's home base is endangered.  That's a hell of an update.  It sounds like the upcoming fight will be a good one.
> 
> Oh, and I think I know the answer but just to clarify; Arengel's brother Melf isn't the same as the Circle of Eight Melf, right?  And on that note, it's amusing after my comments following the cast list that when the party finally interacts with a Circle of Eight connection again, it's Rary the Traitor.



That's him. Melf of the acid arrow and tongue.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

thatdarncat said:
			
		

> hey, two storyhour updates for my birthday  Thanks!



HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!


----------



## thatdarncat

Thanks  I'm still trying to convince work to send me down your way for training


----------



## LordVyreth

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> That's him. Melf of the acid arrow and tongue.




Really?  That makes the whole snubbing of Mordenkainen and Company even funnier.  I have this image in my head of a increasingly neurotic Mordy trying desperately to get back "in the loop."  Like if he ever meets Melf for a game of golf or chess or something.

Mordy:  So, how's it going?

Melf: It's fine.

Mordy: Things okay with your family and such?

Melf: More or less.

Mordy:  And...the fate of the world?  How's that going?

Melf: (sighing) Not this again...

Mordy: Well, you said you'd put in a good word for me!

Melf: I know, but it hasn't come up...

Mordy: You haven't even tried, have you?

Melf: Look, do we have to discuss this every time we get together?

Mordy:  Oh, come on, it's important!  We're the Circle of Bloody Eight!  We should be in the meetings and saving the world and such!  Or restoring the balance.  Something like that.  

Melf:  I'm sure when the time is right, they'll invite you.

Mordy: Well, apparently they won't.  I mean, you know that elf, Callie or something?  I'm her boyfriend's brother's co-worker!  That used to count for something!

Melf: It's not like things are getting dangerously unbalanced.  Good is negotiating with evil to resolve the fate of a good but possessed being...

Mordy: What?

Melf:...That new god and his judges are keeping interplanar war pretty quiet.

Mordy: Who?  Judges-wha?

Melf:...and we even finished off the magic-sealing binders!

Mordy:  See?  This is just what I'm talking about!  I didn't even hear the githyanki were defeated until yesterday!  I bet this doesn't happen on other planes...

(Meanwhile, in the Forgotten Realms...)

Elminster: Well, we just saved the world again!  Bring on the elf babes and mead!

Drizzt: Wooooooooo!

(They exchange high fives; end scene.)


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Too funny!


----------



## dravot

I must say that I'm confused at Bolo's approach to Chavram...Dravot pretty much took Chavram at his word about not using the binders and didn't need independent confirmation.

Dravot did offer to let people lick the necromancy binder, though.


----------



## LordVyreth

Incidentally, could somebody elaborate on the "Johnathan" sub-plot?  Is it less a person and more an inherited title?  Or is it always the same person and the party just recently learned that he's also The Burning Skin?  If so, what business did the party previously have at the Vale before this meeting and it was apparently too late?


----------



## WizarDru

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Incidentally, could somebody elaborate on the "Johnathan" sub-plot?  Is it less a person and more an inherited title?  Or is it always the same person and the party just recently learned that he's also The Burning Skin?  If so, what business did the party previously have at the Vale before this meeting and it was apparently too late?




First off, that little exchange was hella-funny. 

Second, Melf is NOT a member of the Circle of Eight.  Rary is a former member until his...change of heart.  He now rules the Bright Desert with an iron fist and a serpent crown...but that's another story.  The members of the Circle are (or rather WERE) Bigby of Mitrik, Otto, Jallarzi Sallavarian of Greyhawk, Drawmij, Nystul, Warnes Starcoat of Urnst, Alhamazad the Wise of Zeif and Theodain Eriason of the Yeomanry.  Mordankanein acts as the unofficial 'ninth' member of the circle, and it's chairman.  The party has been informed that several of them are dead.  The party has personally met Mordankanein, Drawmij, Jallarzi Sallavarain (Scorch only) and Warnes Starcoat (disguised as Marcus).

Third, on the subject of Jonathon, few facts are known, though conjecture runs wild.  It has been made clear that the name Jonathon is a title as much as a name, and that when someone becomes invested by the process, they become more powerful.  The Valley of the Mage is his personal domain, but what the means exactly is unclear.  Whether or not the Burning Skin has any further attachments to Scorch are unknown.  Previously, the party (or Scorch, rather) had been approached by an elf from the Valley, reporting that the Mage, Jonathon, had been assasinated (at a time which seemed a tad convienent to be coincidence).  They needed a new one for protection and auguries had suggested Scorch.  The party made a tick on their list to investigate if time allowed.  Events kept them away, and things proceeded apace.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

dravot said:
			
		

> I must say that I'm confused at Bolo's approach to Chavram...Dravot pretty much took Chavram at his word about not using the binders and didn't need independent confirmation.
> 
> Dravot did offer to let people lick the necromancy binder, though.



I didn't speak to him about the binders at all. I just in my own way let him know I could still see the good in his heart and acknowledged his love for Dravot. I also let him know that I had your back. Some one has to acknowledge his human qualities if we are ever to save his soul. Or am I the only one who sees that all he is doing is out of love?


----------



## WizarDru

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> I didn't speak to him about the binders at all. I just in my own way let him know I could still see the good in his heart and acknowledged his love for Dravot. I also let him know that I had your back. Some one has to acknowledge his human qualities if we are ever to save his soul. Or am I the only one who sees that all he is doing is out of love?




I suspect you and Dravot see things from a different perspective on that point.  Which means that Chavram, as a character, works exactly as he should.  Quick...guess his alignment!


----------



## Argent Silvermage

WizarDru said:
			
		

> I suspect you and Dravot see things from a different perspective on that point.  Which means that Chavram, as a character, works exactly as he should.  Quick...guess his alignment!



Neutral? Do I get a cookie? Please?


----------



## WizarDru

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> Neutral? Do I get a cookie? Please?




Bzzzzt!  You just got one demerit.


----------



## thatdarncat

Lawful Evil?

Though I can't ever remember a mention of his detecting as evil... nor a mention of his not detecting as evil


----------



## Argent Silvermage

I orgot to put the Chaotic in front.  :\


----------



## WizarDru

thatdarncat said:
			
		

> Lawful Evil?
> 
> Though I can't ever remember a mention of his detecting as evil... nor a mention of his not detecting as evil




Ding!  You get a cookie.
He's detected as evil and been assumed as such ever since.  The truth is, he's borderline Lawful Neutral, except that he has no problems doing horrible things to achieve what he believes to be a laudable goal.  Everything he's ever done in-game has been towards specific ends...ends which are now nearly complete.  Chavram believes that the ends justify the means ultimately and therein lies the problem.


----------



## dravot

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> I didn't speak to him about the binders at all. I just in my own way let him know I could still see the good in his heart and acknowledged his love for Dravot. I also let him know that I had your back. Some one has to acknowledge his human qualities if we are ever to save his soul. Or am I the only one who sees that all he is doing is out of love?



If Chavram had decided that his plan would best work for the stable-boy, and would require the death of Dravot, he wouldn't have blinked an eye.

His method of reversible animus-ing isn't because he loves his family (or maybe it would be better to say is regardless of any love he may feel), but rather because he detests the undead condition and wouldn't wish it on anyone else.  If his plans required turning people into cats or dogs (to pick an example at random), I doubt that he'd bother making the process reversible.

That's just one cleric's opinion.


----------



## LordVyreth

WizarDru said:
			
		

> First off, that little exchange was hella-funny.




Heh, thanks.  That's been rattling around my brain for weeks now and needed the proper catalyst.  




			
				WizarDru said:
			
		

> Second, Melf is NOT a member of the Circle of Eight.  Rary is a former member until his...change of heart.  He now rules the Bright Desert with an iron fist and a serpent crown...but that's another story.  The members of the Circle are (or rather WERE) Bigby of Mitrik, Otto, Jallarzi Sallavarian of Greyhawk, Drawmij, Nystul, Warnes Starcoat of Urnst, Alhamazad the Wise of Zeif and Theodain Eriason of the Yeomanry.  Mordankanein acts as the unofficial 'ninth' member of the circle, and it's chairman.  The party has been informed that several of them are dead.  The party has personally met Mordankanein, Drawmij, Jallarzi Sallavarain (Scorch only) and Warnes Starcoat (disguised as Marcus).




Really?  My mistake.  Outside of Zagig, I always assume the "NPCs obviously named by Gary and Co." are part of the Circle.  Well, hopefully that doesn't wreck the exchange too much.  Eh well.



			
				WizarDru said:
			
		

> Third, on the subject of Jonathon, few facts are known, though conjecture runs wild.  It has been made clear that the name Jonathon is a title as much as a name, and that when someone becomes invested by the process, they become more powerful.  The Valley of the Mage is his personal domain, but what the means exactly is unclear.  Whether or not the Burning Skin has any further attachments to Scorch are unknown.  Previously, the party (or Scorch, rather) had been approached by an elf from the Valley, reporting that the Mage, Jonathon, had been assasinated (at a time which seemed a tad convienent to be coincidence).  They needed a new one for protection and auguries had suggested Scorch.  The party made a tick on their list to investigate if time allowed.  Events kept them away, and things proceeded apace.




I see.  So basically at least Scorch and The Burning Skin were offered the job, but Scorch was too busy to apply?  When did the assassination and offer get made?


----------



## LordVyreth

dravot said:
			
		

> If his plans required turning people into cats or dogs (to pick an example at random), I doubt that he'd bother making the process reversible.
> 
> That's just one cleric's opinion.




Poor widdle Hihoca...


----------



## Zad

The Jonathan thing went by kind of fast and mostly out of my line of sight. The offer was made at the celebration in Celene after the fall of the Githyanki. Scorch was approached by a representative of the Valley, and was basically offered the position. We really never got a chance to follow up on it though as things were moving far too fast at that point. 

The reactions on our faces when we heard that the Burning Skin was the new Jonathan must have been amusing to watch. We would have squashed him like a bug without breaking step had he popped up in our path. Not because he's a big threat or anything - it's just personal. We know he worked for the ShadowTaker and he's been a minor irritant. What's the point of being powerful if you can't, on the rare occasion, squash someone who is a nuisance?


----------



## dravot

Dravot’s Journal

We got back from Acerak’s tomb with the book I have been looking for.  Some of my companions seem to have guessed at my intentions; if any of the others have, they haven’t indicated as such.

My grandfather realized immediately that I had retrieved the book, and said as much.  Every time I follow his bidding, it vexes me.  It matters not whether I do so of free will, or if I’m compelled.  It vexes me.   And Chavram plans on having me kill him when he’s done…and I’ll probably do it.  And again:  It.  Vexes.  Me.

Yet again, I find myself heartbroken at the condition that he has left my father and brother in.  At long last, however, I have custody of my father.  He barely recognizes anything in the world, much less that I am his son.  At least I have the ability to right this wrong – with Chavram’s barely deigned permission.  It was my intention to take advantage of the library’s timeshift and compress the three day ritual into just a couple of hours, given everything that we need to do, but the fates were not with me.  Unseen forces seem to prevent my father from entering the library, and I am forced to abandon this ritual until we return from our quest to kill the Silverring.

I awoke in the middle of my slumber questioning my inevitable path.  Inevitable because of him.  I cannot argue with the logic that says that I must do it, I need to do it, that the Prime needs this, that there is too much evil upon this land, and yet, it occurs only through the pain and suffering of too many innocents.  I weigh this against the innocents who suffered because nothing was done, and I find that action vs. inaction is a difficult choice, indeed.

I prayed.  And meditated.  And prayed some more.

I have considered everything I’ve learned from Bellamy, and, to a lesser extent, Prestwick.  I have called upon my memories of walking through the Elysium Fields, and my discussions with Meltorannen:  What is good?  What is evil?  If an opportunity to do good is squandered, then the sacrifices and suffering were all for naught.

And so, I make a choice.  I choose Ascendance.  I choose for me.  No.   Not for me.  And certainly, not for him.  I choose for Hexpools.  I choose for Brindinford.  I choose for Rauxes.  I choose on the behalf of those lands that Vecna has blotted under his control.  I choose for those who have lost loved ones to the blight that is undead, that suffer under evil.

I will be their champion, and their voice.  And without even looking at the ritual book, I realize that…

I am Ascendant.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Ooookkkkk.


----------



## thatdarncat

I think Dravot's finally snapped... that or someone's about to have a very bad day.


----------



## WizarDru

Ok, you've caught us.  Dravot actually snapped in the Forge of Fury.  Everything since then has been a schizophrenic hallucination.  Dravot is actually in a cleric's rest sponsored by Lord Gelban, where he's fed a juicy red fruit once a day.....


----------



## Argent Silvermage

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Ok, you've caught us.  Dravot actually snapped in the Forge of Fury.  Everything since then has been a schizophrenic hallucination.  Dravot is actually in a cleric's rest sponsored by Lord Gelban, where he's fed a juicy red fruit once a day.....



So Bolo is nothing more than the ravings of a mad man? Ok makes sense to me. I knew there had to be a logical explanation.


----------



## LordVyreth

Oh, please tell me there's a game this weekend.  Between the fight, my possibly futile hope that a lot of my guys will be involved in the fight, and Dravot's potential slip into pure madness, I don't think I could take the suspense.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Oh, please tell me there's a game this weekend.  Between the fight, my possibly futile hope that a lot of my guys will be involved in the fight, and Dravot's potential slip into pure madness, I don't think I could take the suspense.



Tonight we Kill a Good and true friend. So long GELBAN I'll miss you once i'm done skinning you for new dragonskin armor. Olob


----------



## dravot

WizarDru wasn't feeling well, so we punted and did our Beta/Lost City of Barakus campaign.  We wound up cowardly retreating from most things, which is quite unlike us.

We did get to attack the wizard when he went stark raving bonkers.

Me (aka Keldin of Descott Valley, archery ranger): I use my bow to inflict non-lethal damage.  With the -4, I still hit.

Someone else: You can't do non-lethal damage with a bow.

Me: Oh well.  Luckily, Ivo's already taken non-lethal damage, so he won't die.  Still, it's a job well done.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

I walk down the city streets looking at all of the faces. People of all shape size and race walk past me giving me a wide birth and I don’t mind. I understand their hesitance; I am a living reminder of pain and suffering. 
Sharn is a city of wonders and nightmares I thrive in it. The sun gleams off my Mitheral shell on a day when the weather is actually nice for a change but from the look of the clouds gathering it will not stay nice for long. A changeling child runs past me trying to grab one of the two long silken drapes attached to my pectoral plates and winds up swinging into the air from it. I catch the child (I’m still trying to figure out how to tell a male changeling from female) and set it down it makes it’s apology for trying to steal the cloth and I nod saying not to steal again. The child runs off and I let it sensing no evil in the child’s heart. Passing through an archway I see and smell the dinosaurs thanking the Flame that I’m not made of meat. 
Eventually I make it to my partner’s laboratory and sit in the corner making sure not to make any noise as I do so. Dwarven Artificers seem to be cranky as a rule. He is no exception. “Vigil. Bring me my tool kit.” He says and I know today is a good day; He remembered I have a name. I take the toolbox to him and walk back to my seat. I have seen the Sky today, may have saved a young soul and been called by my name, what more can this Warforged Paladin require? 

My name is Vigil of the Flame Thank you for listening.

This weekend Dravot will start his Eberron game I have been waiting to play Vigil for months. Glee!


----------



## dravot

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> what more can this Warforged Paladin require?



Some Lemon Pledge, perhaps?

That Lemon Pledge?  I put it there.


----------



## Spatzimaus

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> what more can this Warforged Paladin require?




Duct Tape and WD-40, of course.

(Hmm, any Nodwick fans would know what happens if you enchant duct tape, but what would Holy WD-40 do?  It's one of the things I've wondered about Eberron.)


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Spatzimaus said:
			
		

> Duct Tape and WD-40, of course.
> 
> (Hmm, any Nodwick fans would know what happens if you enchant duct tape, but what would Holy WD-40 do?  It's one of the things I've wondered about Eberron.)



From personal experiance it stops the squeeking of ghostly chains and the creeking of ghostly doors. I always have some in my ghostbuster's lunchbox/ paranormal investigators kit.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

dravot said:
			
		

> WizarDru wasn't feeling well, so we punted and did our Beta/Lost City of Barakus campaign.  We wound up cowardly retreating from most things, which is quite unlike us.
> 
> We did get to attack the wizard when he went stark raving bonkers.
> 
> Me (aka Keldin of Descott Valley, archery ranger): I use my bow to inflict non-lethal damage.  With the -4, I still hit.
> 
> Someone else: You can't do non-lethal damage with a bow.
> 
> Me: Oh well.  Luckily, Ivo's already taken non-lethal damage, so he won't die.  Still, it's a job well done.



I think the funniest thing that night was when Scorch rolled and asked Ivo "What is your most prized possession?" and as one we all said "Spell Book" because that's all Oldschool1e talks about in character. It was funny.


----------



## dravot

I ran my first Eberron adventure last night - The Forgotten Forge, and it was a lot of fun.

Tons of combat, with a couple of people going into the negatives, and what seemed to me to be a potential full route - not a TPK...the finger wigglers would have fled, I'm sure.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

dravot said:
			
		

> I ran my first Eberron adventure last night - The Forgotten Forge, and it was a lot of fun.
> 
> Tons of combat, with a couple of people going into the negatives, and what seemed to me to be a potential full route - not a TPK...the finger wigglers would have fled, I'm sure.



Don't let anyone tell you different Warforged Paladins ROCK! Vigil was great.


----------



## thatdarncat

Seri ran us through the Forgotten Forge a few months ago. Good adventure, but the horrid rats are pretty nasty for first level players to face.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

thatdarncat said:
			
		

> Seri ran us through the Forgotten Forge a few months ago. Good adventure, but the horrid rats are pretty nasty for first level players to face.



It was fun. I play Vigil as if he has no care for money but he has a strong concept of  'spoils of war' so he had no equipment until after the first combat with Cutter where he took her battle axe and backpack. Once he had an axe he was a rat slaying machine. 1d8+4 str bonus for damage is fun. rats go squish easy as long as I can hit them.
I actuall have listed on his character sheet what body he looted the item from.


----------



## LordVyreth

So the group has two alternate campaigns now?  How will that generally affect the regular game?  Will you just switch off between the two whenever Dru or someone else can't make it for the main game?

Incidentally, I saw an idea in another thread that I thought could relate to your party.  As mentioned before, the party has a huge group of cohorts, companions, allies, hangers-ons, and random residents of the party's home base who are often very powerful but not able to work with the main PCs safely.  Have you ever considered a mini-campaign or adventure playing Meepo and Co. or some other grouping of that sort?  I mean, the current events with Zinkman might have rendered the point moot, but if it's still possible it could make for an interesting diversion.


----------



## WizarDru

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> So the group has two alternate campaigns now?  How will that generally affect the regular game?  Will you just switch off between the two whenever Dru or someone else can't make it for the main game?
> 
> Incidentally, I saw an idea in another thread that I thought could relate to your party.  As mentioned before, the party has a huge group of cohorts, companions, allies, hangers-ons, and random residents of the party's home base who are often very powerful but not able to work with the main PCs safely.  Have you ever considered a mini-campaign or adventure playing Meepo and Co. or some other grouping of that sort?  I mean, the current events with Zinkman might have rendered the point moot, but if it's still possible it could make for an interesting diversion.




I had originally intended for last year's pre-Xmas session to be called "A very Meepo Christmas", and would have had the PCs taking control of the major NPCs at Ruun Khazai, trying to solve a murder and discovering that Meepo's mate was actually an Erinyes.  Due to scheduling conflicts, it didn't happen, and this eventually happened off-camera.


----------



## dravot

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> So the group has two alternate campaigns now?  How will that generally affect the regular game?  Will you just switch off between the two whenever Dru or someone else can't make it for the main game?



That's pretty much it.  Barakus is a mega-module, but will end at some point (at which point, Scorch would need to find/make new material).  I have a ton of Eberron stuff.  We'll coordinate and alternate our beta campaigns whenever WizarDru needs the free night.


----------



## LordVyreth

So did you guys have a game this weekend?  Or were you distracted as I was by, among other things, the sheer awesomeness of Serenity?  Seriously, I watched that film twice in two days!  I didn't even do that for Lord of the Rings.


----------



## WizarDru

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> So did you guys have a game this weekend?  Or were you distracted as I was by, among other things, the sheer awesomeness of Serenity?  Seriously, I watched that film twice in two days!  I didn't even do that for Lord of the Rings.




This weekend was Southern Exposure, so there was no game proper.  We did play Mutants and Masterminds at the 'con, though.


----------



## LordVyreth

So, dare I ask?

Oh, and incidentally, a 3rd Magical Trevor has been made.  Just for anyone interested...


----------



## WizarDru

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> So, dare I ask?
> 
> Oh, and incidentally, a 3rd Magical Trevor has been made.  Just for anyone interested...




dravot (who makes Livejournal Cry) and several others were unavailable for our regular game, so we had a game night instead.  Alpha will probably happen this weekend, in the final showdown with the Zinkmans.  Or not. 

In the meantime, you can read the con report , if you're so inclined.


----------



## LordVyreth

I find the lack of player comments and updates disconcerting.  Did something come up again?


----------



## Zad

We were set to play friday, but Aethramyr had a last minute thing come up so we instead played the Mystery Box adventure in Barakus. 

Next week isn't looking good for this game either - probably Eberron.


----------



## LordVyreth

Whimpers...so long since an update.

It's bad enough that my own campaign finally died (though I still plan on finishing it's SH in mostly fiction form.)  Don't tell me you guys have gone on hiatus too?  It'll be nice to have the simplicity of being just a player in two campaigns for a while, but looking at a campaign from the larger perspective is nice too, especially since I have a little bit of a vested interest in the DM's position of this game.


----------



## the Jester

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Whimpers...so long since an update.




Yeah, what's the dizzle?  

I love reading an epic story hour- it gives me fiendish ideas.


----------



## WizarDru

Sorry, the Universe has been fiendishly at work, preventing schedules from syncing up.

This Saturday is the first Alpha session in a while.  Look for a preview tomorrow.

Corruption reigns.  Madness takes it toll.  The fate of the Prime, and perhaps Existence, lies in the balance.  Who will live and who will die?  Evil Marches, Good Stands Fast and Darkness Waits.  

Zinkman has been weakened...but he is NOT WEAK.   Stay Tuned, won't you?


----------



## Zad

There was a great deal of talk going back and forth. Dragons, priests and so on were consumed in discussion of minutae. I tried to make them understand that there was no point, but it was hopeless. They just couldn’t see that until we got there and saw the situation for ourselves, no amount of tactical planning would be possible or worthwhile. Eventually I gave up and just wandered away until they had spent their energy forming plans that would never survive contact with the enemy. 

It’s not that I’m not bothered by this – I think I’m just more used to it now.

So when my escape brought me near the other group of adventurers, my curiousity had little left to hold it in check and I approached them. They were in the midst of some loud discussion and didn’t notice me.

“You are wrong! And a blasphemer besides. Of course I should be used to that by now I suppose but it is heresy all the same.” The paladin seemed upset, and his assimar heritage was giving him an angry glow that would surely be impressive among common folk.

“But Peck,” the dwarf said “how could he have gotten the sword from a holy temple in Rauxes if when he received the blade, he was but a baby?” The dwarf asked his question with seeming innocence, but it was clear from the looks on the faces of his friends that he was baiting the paladin. He tried to hide the smile on his face, but it was creased nearly as much as his worn leathers.

“Ratt, you once again live up to your namesake,” Peck said dismissively.

“What, Wulfbane? Why is there a wolf around?” And Ratt made a show of looking into the woods.

“No, RAT! For that’s what you are. Aethramyr is the chosen champion of not one but two gods, and you insult him and his gods by questioning the tale of his finding of the sword.”

This was just too much for me to pass up. I stepped up and said “Is there some confusion which perhaps I can clear up?” and I smiled.

Peck immediately turned and on seeing me, bowed low and stayed bent. Ratt tried to make a show of being unimpressed but you couldn’t help but notice how he suddenly stood up straight and kept looking at the ground. The rest of the company looked for something to say, and bowed or blushed according to individual penchant. The halfling finally spoke up.

“My Lady… we were just having a… ah… religious discussion of sorts. Please, we meant no disrespect or disruption and deeply apologize for any off…”

I stopped him. “Please, there’s no need to apologize. And there’s no need to stay bowed, Peck was it?” I bent over to look to his face as I said this, but it was hardly necessary with him so tall. “My name is Kayleigh. I was curious about you all so I thought I would wander over and introduce myself. I didn’t mean to disrupt your… debate.” 

The halfling relaxed noticeably. “Oh we all know who you are My Lady. No need for that at all. And this is Peck.” Peck stood up again, but seemed flushed. “My name is Tallboy, and this, “ he pointed to a wild-eyed man “is Amlah, and here is Wize Ak’Har.” He waved towards a dwarven cleric of Moradin who smiled a far more genial smile than most dwarves. “And you must have heard Ratt two leagues away.”

I smiled and nodded at each as they were introduced. They all still seemed to be standing uncomfortably straight so I sat on on of the boulders and said “You all are going to hurt yourselves if you keep standing like that.”

Ratt was the first to start laughing and the others started to relax as well. “So,” I asked, “I heard Aethramyr’s name in the midst of your little debate. Perhaps there’s something I could clear up for you?”

Peck puffed up before Ratt could say anything. “My Lady, perhaps you would be so kind as to educate this… dwarf” he substituted that at the last moment “as to the truth of the holy tale that clearly states that Aethramyr received Shatterspike from a holy temple over a century ago.”

I scoffed but not in a mean way. “Oh please. I don’t think so. And there’s no need to call me ‘My Lady’ here.” I smiled at him trying to give him some comfort. “Aethramyr recovered the sword only a few years ago in the remains of the Sunless Citadel. Not too long after a rat nearly chewed his arm off and killed him as I recall. Make no mistake that it has only been in his care a short while, and we had no idea what it, or he for that matter, would become.”

Before Ratt could get his gloating up to speed I cut him off. “However, it was surely Sehanine’s will that he find it and likely Pelor’s as well. We have learned that plans are set in motion for us that we cannot comprehend. I’m sure you have started to sense the same in your own journeys. So while the tale may be somewhat exaggerated in a literal sense, it may be true from the eyes of a god.”

That seemed to put Ratt in check. Indeed he seemed to reflect briefly, perhaps troubled by some of their own journeys and what lay before them.

“But he is a holy champion. You all are. Well, perhaps not the mage… but still…” Peck protested quietly.

I nodded. “And each of us started our lives as you did. We were born, we grew up, we guarded walls or fought in skirmishes. And we came together under Lord Gelban’s wing. And there, we each grew into what you see today. Have you not grown from what you once were?”

They all looked at each other and nodded mutely. 

“Aethramyr is a holy warrior. He is a man of faith unlike any I have known. He is a man of wisdom as few are in the world. And he his skill is greater than many can dream of,” I said. “But he’s still just an elf, and he puts his pants on just like you do.”

I leaned towards Ratt and said quietly “But they’re… you know… longer.”

Everyone started laughing and I wanted to get away from that subject. Too much awe doesn’t do anyone any good. “So what brings you all here? Besides the obvious I mean.”

Tallboy shrugged. “The Brazen asked us to come. He said that he was worried – about his friend, and about you. If you did not return in time, we might be needed, though I could tell he didn’t think us up to the task. And if you did, and you failed, we’d be needed sorer still.”

The barbarian finally spoke up. “I’m not so sure he is right about us not being ready.”

The cleric replied, “Yeah? Well I am. Hearing what I heard today, I thank Moradin they returned,” he jerked a thumb at me. “Did you see The Brazen’s eyes? There was fear in them. Fear for us. Ain’t never seen that before.”

I looked them over carefully. “Rest assured, your time will come. But I don’t think that time is now. I’m not even sure we’re ready for this. Remember this is a madness we brought into this world, and now have cause to deeply regret. But there are many evils in the world and you will soon learn that you cannot be everywhere at once. Even while we go to deal with Zinkman, what of the Khel’Hrdad? Perhaps The Brazen will send you to check up on them, though you’d do well to only observe and not try to stop them.”

We talked for a while more and it was quite pleasant. I saw in them ourselves, and in us I see what they someday will become. And I think they started to see it too. 

The group had a reasonable assortment of equipment and weapons, but the item that stood out was the same one I had noticed earlier – Tallboy seemed to have a Staff of Power. It didn’t take much to get him to relate how it came into their possession, and Tallboy seemed to view it as something he held for the group rather than something he personally owned.  “May I?” I asked.

He hesitated reflexively for the briefest moment, then blushed and offered it to me. “Of course.”

I grasped the staff firmly and let it swing slowly, feeling the magic within offering itself to whomever held it. “I’ve seen them before, but never had a chance to _feel_ one.” Tallboy looked questioningly at me and I added “My spellcraft is not on par with Scorch’s, or even yours I’m sure. But it doesn’t take much to use something like this does it?” I handed the staff back bowing my head in thanks. 

“No, not really,” he said. “In fact what started our discussion of Shatterspike was much the same topic – we were looking at the amazing arsenal you all carried.”

I shrugged. “Fate finds a way to lead us to the tools we need.”

The Platinar was waving me over so I had to cut our conversation short. I smiled at them all and was turning away when Ratt said “And what happens when fate doesn’t work as fast as you need it to?”

I laughed over my shoulder “Then you go to Sigil. Find Mortimer Fuvex-vex-vex. Tell him I sent you. Fate helps those who help themselves.”

I hoped they surived their trip to Sigil. The Brazen would be quite miffed with me if they didn’t.


----------



## WizarDru

What happens in Sigil, STAYS in Sigil.


----------



## Spatzimaus

Zad said:
			
		

> He waved towards a dwarven cleric of Moradin who smiled a far more genial smile than most dwarves. “And you must have heard Ratt two leagues away.”




*makes the sign of the Hammer*

Cameos are always fun.


----------



## LordVyreth

Zad said:
			
		

> “But he is a holy champion. You all are. Well, perhaps not the mage… but still…” Peck protested quietly.




This so made me laugh.



			
				Zad said:
			
		

> I looked them over carefully. “Rest assured, your time will come. But I don’t think that time is now. I’m not even sure we’re ready for this. Remember this is a madness we brought into this world, and now have cause to deeply regret. But there are many evils in the world and you will soon learn that you cannot be everywhere at once. Even while we go to deal with Zinkman, what of the Khel’Hrdad? Perhaps The Brazen will send you to check up on them, though you’d do well to only observe and not try to stop them.”




This made me laugh too, but for other, more ominious reasons.  I missed my enigmatic contributions.  Heck, I just missed you guys!

Incidentally, I'm thinking of starting my own player Story Hour.  We just started a new online Story Hour to replace my own (which I will still finish in fiction form, as a reminder.)  We're barely through the character creation and I'll give it a few months to see if it looks like an extended campaign, but I'm willing to give it a chance from there.  After DMing for or playing with half-dragons, half-ogres, half-ogre/half-dragons, deep gnomes, half-celestials, actual Celestials, wereleopards, giant-bloodeds, dragons, and rakshashas, I get to play the weird one!  I'm going to be playing a nanomachine-based android of my own design named Self.  Any tips on a player-centric Story Hour?


----------



## WizarDru

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> I get to play the weird one!  I'm going to be playing a nanomachine-based android of my own design named Self.  Any tips on a player-centric Story Hour?




I'll leave that question to Zad...seeing as how the player-centric story hour I wrote was swallowed whole by the boards during a big crash in, what, 2003?  


For those wondering, this is a long-running gag that finally made it into the foreground.  The party of Ratt Wulfbane and his companions originally appeared WAY, WAY Back before "A Family Affair" (i.e. pre-Chavram), and then had a minor appearance just prior to Infernus' attack on Gelban (as well as multiple references in-game).  At the time, they were staying in the Sun Tower, while the PCs were staying in the Moon Tower at Gelban's estate.  Despite many near-encounters, they almost never met up.  Every opportunity since then, they've missed each other.  While the PCs have been handling the big jobs, the Brazen has had this secondary party dealing with lesser and sometimes more subtle threats that the players never followed up on (such as what Drawmidj was doing with those plants near Nightfang Spire, for example).

For those who may not get the joke, the group is a well-meant parody of Wulf Ratbane and his crew, from the classic story hour of the same name, linked in my .sig below.  Back when the story-hours were new, Wulf's was one of the first true standouts (Wulf, that is to say Ben Durbin, formed Bad Axe Games, creators of the most excellent Grim Tales d20 variant).  Remember kids, if you're going to steal, steal from the best.


----------



## WizarDru

The Spell that Must Never Be Cast....WAS CAST.


----------



## Spatzimaus

WizarDru said:
			
		

> The Spell that Must Never Be Cast




Evan's Spiked Tentacles of Forced Intrusion?  Reverse Gender?  Summon Human?


----------



## the Jester

Spatzimaus said:
			
		

> Evan's Spiked Tentacles of Forced Intrusion?  Reverse Gender?  Summon Human?




No, no- it's called _the Spell that must Never Be Cast._  I think it's in _Heroes of teh Funny_, iirc.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Last night I was on the verge of crying. Aethramyr's player was on fire, He did something so perfect to end the night that it was wonderful to sit next to him. You were great last night J. I bow to your Paladin-ness!


----------



## LordVyreth

I'm gonna guess Mordenkainen's Dis to the Junction.  Oh yeah.

And it's probably because I made fun of him earlier in this thread.


----------



## ThoughtBubble

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> Last night I was on the verge of crying. Aethramyr's player was on fire, He did something so perfect to end the night that it was wonderful to sit next to him. You were great last night J. I bow to your Paladin-ness!




So now, to scream ARGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! once, before checking the thread every so often until it updates.


----------



## dravot

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> Last night I was on the verge of crying. Aethramyr's player was on fire, He did something so perfect to end the night that it was wonderful to sit next to him. You were great last night J. I bow to your Paladin-ness!



Meh.  I've had holier things than that for breakfast.  He's a piker.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

dravot said:
			
		

> Meh.  I've had holier things than that for breakfast.  He's a piker.



Oh be fair! You get a few followers and it goes straight to your head.


----------



## thatdarncat

Found this, thought you guys might be interested

http://www.weebls-shop.co.uk/toys.asp?siteid=100&prodcatid=141


----------



## Zad

dravot said:
			
		

> Meh.  I've had holier things than that for breakfast.  He's a piker.




Oh yeah, Mister I'll-just-roll-a-diplomacy-check and look holy in post. 

(post = post-production. In this context - when the humble author makes something that happened sound really cool even though it wasn't during the actual game.)


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Zad said:
			
		

> Oh yeah, Mister I'll-just-roll-a-diplomacy-check and look holy in post.
> 
> (post = post-production. In this context - when the humble author makes something that happened sound really cool even though it wasn't during the actual game.)



Now lets be nice Zad. Dravot is like Pelor's left pinky toenail He has holier than thou down to an artform. We mere mortals don't need to SEE the miracle to believe it happened.


----------



## WizarDru

Zad said:
			
		

> Oh yeah, Mister I'll-just-roll-a-diplomacy-check and look holy in post.
> 
> (post = post-production. In this context - when the humble author makes something that happened sound really cool even though it wasn't during the actual game.)




I thought it was pretty cool in-game.   And I put that potion there.


----------



## dravot

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> Oh be fair! You get a few followers and it goes straight to your head.



Vecna said that this would happen.  Go divine and all of your friends start criticising you.


----------



## Aethramyr

Some of us Don't NEED a flight of Angels singing our praises to feel good about ourselves. 



Drama-Pope.


Aeth


----------



## Scorch

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> I'm gonna guess Mordenkainen's Dis to the Junction.  Oh yeah.
> 
> And it's probably because I made fun of him earlier in this thread.




I'll let Zad fill you all in on what happened when he posts later but in my opinion it went a little something like this:

http://www.angryflower.com/realas.html

Scorch Out!


----------



## dravot

WizarDru said:
			
		

> I thought it was pretty cool in-game.   And I put that potion there.




It was very cool.  I enjoyed the story aspects of the evening very much.


----------



## LordVyreth

thatdarncat said:
			
		

> Found this, thought you guys might be interested
> 
> http://www.weebls-shop.co.uk/toys.asp?siteid=100&prodcatid=141




Oh, I kinda want one of those myself now.


----------



## Zad

*Strange Bedfellows - Chapter 2*

*Strange Bedfellows – Chapter 2*

OOC Notes: 
Exp is 10,000

This Week’s Adventure:
After the haggling was done, the final force consisted of us, a score of Swords of Heironeous, the Platinar, and six other dragons of varying metals whom I did not know personally. The transportation logistics were a bit of a problem with a force this size, but it seemed everyone was expecting us to handle it somehow. The simplest thing turned out to be to gate to another plane, and then return to the Prime on the coast of Ahlyssa. From there we took to the air and headed towards the Lendores.

It took two hours to reach the area, and the Platinar hardly said a word during the flight. I understood his pain – I was feeling it myself. The best help I could give him was to support him in silence, and that I did. The other dragons were equally terse, but more from respect than grief for what would come.

Even if we didn’t know where the Lendores were, we could just as easily have followed the Judges that were being drawn to the disturbance. In time I could start to make out huge flights of judges in formation moving into a huge cloudbank over the southernmost isle of the three main isles of the Lendores. The Judges were moving like a large storm front swarming around what I can only describe as a soap bubble covering the southern island. On the sea below I could see ships worked like conchshells with complicated sail systems sliding through the water. The winds were gusting and carried about two dozen ships away from the islands. 

Activity seemed to revolve around a makeshift camp and port set in the middle island. Flights of Judges would approach a lone Judge (surely Meltorannan) hovering over the tents, then fly off. Below him, the wounded and those tending them moved about with uncanny calm and sense of purpose. The sea elves were coordinating their evacuation here, and as we approached I made out other people we had met on our last, more pleasant trip.

I could also see dozens of scrying sensors in the air. Some few were looking at our approach (so many of us were masked that it surely looked less interesting that it actually was) while most were scanning the ground below.

Our arrival did not cause a great stir, and that made sense given the dire circumstances. But that isn’t to say that the arrival of The Paragon went without notice among the People of the Testing. They were moving with a sense of calmness and purpose, but any small signs of wavering or uncertainty vanished as Aethramyr came among them, replaced by firmness and resolution. 

The man we met as the Silverring’s assistant came to speak to us. “Your arrival is most appreciated – things have become somewhat dire. The being known as Zinkman has succeeded in opening a rift to the Far Realms damaging the prime. The stuff of madness pours in like bile, carrying twisted foul creatures with it. As her dying act, the Dreamer Prime put up the bubble barrier, destroying a large part of the temple in the process. The Stone of Testing has been shattered and used as a focal point to power the rift. Many Judges have been banished or destroyed. With the aid of the People of the Testing, the Judges are holding them back but we are losing ground.”

Meltorannan had landed and joined the conversation. “We are but a third of the infinite, while they are infinite. We cannot hold out forever.”

I’m sure that statement made perfect sense if you studied Celestial mechanics or religion, but just left me confused. “So what’s happening inside the bubble?” I asked.

“Any Judge that enters cannot retreat – they are too hard pressed. Our information is limited.”

Aethramyr quietly closed his eyes and slipped into The Dreaming. There he could see the battle on a whole different front. The People of the Testing were doing their best to hold back the nightmares entering from the Far Realms. This is the test that they have been preparing for, and they faced their task with calm and resolve. But on this front too, they were slowly losing.

With little else to know, we were ready to move on. The Swords were unhappy at this. They wanted more reconnaissance and a carefully considered plan before entering the barrier. They didn’t understand that the madness within would tolerate no plan, and that while a part of me shared their feelings, I knew that no amount of planning would help, so we may as well get to it before things get worse. Meltorannan would join us for this assault but the rest of the Judges would fight to hold the line.

We entered the bubble. There was no physical effect but there was a strange chill and an almost electrical tingle. I did not feel any kind of impedance, but two of the Swords were unable to pass through. They may have been better off. Within, everything was changed. Swirls of madness danced at the edge of vision, but when you turned, there was nothing to see. The land was blighted, blasted, cracked and corrupt. Above the village, the sky was broken like a pane of glass. Through the cracks poured liquid nightmare. The tide of madness poured in and crashed over the village like a slick oil, flowing and chattering with glee. As it flowed up the sides of the barrier like water in a bowl, I could see the Judges in the ethereal holding back the tide of creatures with only their sheer physical presence. On the ground, creatures hacked and cut at the Judges unanswered. They looked to be People of the Testing, but they had been corrupted and their bodies were covered with parasites and jelly-like creatures and they moved like clumsy puppets flailing away with blades of blue energy. 

A dozen of them were in our immediate path, and I would just as easily have gone over them, but as one they turned and shambled towards us.

“Fine,” I thought. I fired a volley. The creature took the full brunt of it, and was hurt but still standing. That in itself was indication that these would be more than a momentary distraction. As the arrows hit, a blue fire coruscated over its body and the fire light the other creatures with the same blaze.

And then they came at us. Rather quickly I might add. These things were not inconsequential but neither were they going to stop us. They released a volley of caustic attacks which caused the Platinar some pain, but its main result was just to enrage him. The blue flame surrounding the creatures was problematic for melee attacks, but it didn’t stop me, and while a creature could survive one volley, it couldn’t survive two. With the addition of words of holy power from Dravot and Bolo, we swept through them quickly and moved to the center of the maelstrom.

The closer we drew to the inevitable final battleground, the more disturbing things became. Buildings were covered in slime and parasites attached themselves to fallen defenders. Bodies formed out of the miasma then were dragged back down with silent screams. The madness was forming, churning and worst - growing. The scene was a pale imitation of the Far Realms itself, and had little effect on those who had seen the true thing, but it was a testament to the courage of the Swords of Heironeous that none of them broke when faced with the insanity of it all.

Most of the flow of the madness crashed and flowed over a cupola in the middle of the village. Beneath it was the Silverring, who body looked like mercury streaked with dark bile. Floating near his shoulder, no longer directly attached, was Zinkman, a man with muted features plated in silver. Parasites crawled on the Silverring’s body, feeding on him. Whether the ancient wyrm was alive in any conventional sense was debatable. 

Zinkman floated in front of the Silverring. “It begins again Slerotin! This time we won’t fail. Let them tremble before our power. At last you have returned so that we can do the Devastation once more. This time we shall become as gods!”

Scorch was unimpressed. “I like the Prime the way it is now. Can’t we just put this off? Maybe some other Prime?”

Zinkman pouted, disappointed. “Oh, Slerotin. Don’t tell me you’ve joined with the mad one like your brothers? I would be sore displeased if you, the last remaining free Slerotin, were to turn against me. After all, what is it you think you can accomplish here that legions of these creatures cannot?”

Scorch considered this more carefully than I might have thought. “Actually I’d like to live long enough to prove that free will is possible.”

“Free will?” Zinkman scoffed. “An illusion. You are here as you were planned to be. I felt you destroy the binders, severing us finally.”

Scorch furrowed his brow. “Wait – me and you, or me and the other you at Ru’un Khazai?” I’m not sure why it was important but any information about the other Zinkman could be useful.

“My madness and I are separated and I am in control once more,” Zinkman crowed.

“So what happens after we destroy the Prime?” Scorch asked.

“We give it to our ultimate master, the Lord of Madness himself. We were unsuccessful in completely destroying the rainbow realm but my master holds a fortress there.”

Scorch had continued the conversation further than I would have guessed, but suddenly he got bored. “Let me tell you how it’s going to go: First we’re going to kick your sorry, shiny ass back to the Far Realms, then your buddy in Ru’un Khazai, and then we’re going to lock up Therizdun so tight he’ll still be around to watch the heat death of the universe.”

[OOC: Followed by Scorch saying “Initiative, bitch.”]

Zinkman was suffused with a pale yellow glow, and having no idea what we were facing we tread very carefully. Dravot cast an exploratory implosion but it was reflected back at him. Meltorannan struck with his staff, but was repelled backwards with a peal of thunder. He was badly hurt and his mask cracked. I’m not clear if he hoped to damage Zinkman was simply willing to sacrifice himself to prevent that from happening to one of us. I fired a single arrow at Zinkman, but almost predictably it was reflected back at me and I held my fire.

Scorch put a force cage around Zinkman. With spells reflecting, our best option was to delay him for a bit. Dravot turned his attention towards the rift, and tried to block the tear in reality. His spell stemmed most of the tide but it was not enough on its own.

The cage was a nuisance, but Zinkman had another tool to express his anger. The Silverring lurched towards the grounded Meltorannan and unleashed a fury of tooth and claw. Meltorannan would have been surely destroyed but for the sudden appearance of several solars who intercepted different attacks, taking the blow for Meltorannan. Many of them were badly injured but not fatally.

Zinkman looked over at the Judge, miffed that he still survived. I was looking at the solars – they were solars, not Judges. It was only when I realized they bore no mark of faith that I knew they were the Forsaken – the solars that had guarded Brindinford and were neither of Pelor nor of Ralishaz. They were orphaned celestials, which is a perilous state for such beings. Why they were here, I was not sure, and why they were defending Meltorannan I had even less notion.

But their presence was problematic. The Judges, now perceiving them, acted. I could not believe they could be so narrow-minded as that, with the world in danger that they would abandon their post to banish a few inconsequential creatures. But their duty was clear and it was beyond their ability to exercise discretion. But the Judges could not actually banish them; these creatures were no longer divine agents, and no longer had a home outside the Prime. If the Judges tried to banish the solars, they would instead be destroyed, having nowhere to go. Dravot yelled to Meltorannan to stop the Judges. 

Meltorannan said “I cannot. They have their duty. But you can save them. You have the power now. Please save them.”

Zinkman appeared outside the force cage with a pop, cackling and considering his next target. Zinkman was too powerful, even without the binders helping him. But we knew he drew power from three sources – the binders, the Far Realms, and the Silverring. Without any discussion, we all knew we had to weaken him further before he could be destroyed. So Scorch acted. His spell was… wrong. It was not blasphemous, or evil, or even insane, but its words had a fundamental wrongness I can’t describe. It was an unbinding of the highest magnitude, and the mere words made the air shake and magic quiver. He focused the un-doing at the Silverring, and the spells around him suddenly unraveled. They were not dispelled, nor suppressed, nor broken in any usual sense – they were unraveled into component pieces and, like a torn up scroll, the phrases and incantations could not support each other, and the magic fell to pieces on the broken land. The Silverring crashed to the ground in a heap, the parasites falling away shriveled and inert. He wasn’t dead, but nor would he live much longer.

Scorch giggled. “I didn’t think that would work.”

Zinkman shrieked “You killed my pet dragon! I’ll snap your neck for that.”

Bolo piped up “Not just yet, you won’t.” And massive hands of stone rose up from the earth and clasped tight around Zinkman. Nature itself was angry at the atrocity happening here and readily answered Bolo’s call to arms.

The Judges had almost reached the solars. The solars looked sad, but they were resigned to their fate, and seemed to take at least small comfort in having done something worthwhile before their end. But before the Judges could raise their staves, Dravot called out in a clear voice.

“You shall not harm My host.”

There was a ripple in the air. The solars shifted, their aspect changing. They seemed almost eager for it. They took on Dravot’s aspect, and smiled. The Judges stopped and bowed, and returned to their place in the line. There was now no doubt that Dravot was not simply touched by the divine – he was divine. And as a diety, however strong, of the Prime, his host was allowed to be on the Prime by the terms of the agreement. The loophole was fairly straightforward, if hard to qualify for.

I wonder now if that was what the solars were hoping for, as their love for Dravot was what led them to save Brindinford in the first place.

Dravot had thought ahead though. He turned to the nearest solar and said “I need a miracle to expand the dimensional barrier and plug the rift.” 

The solar bowed and “Your will be done.” The flow of madness nearly stopped.

Aethramyr ran to the fallen Silverring and spoke softly. “Any sins you feel you committed have long since been atoned for, and your guilt has no more hold. Is it time?”

The wyrm could barely move, but with what strength he had, he nodded, and closed his eyes. Aethramyr focused himself, and gave to the dragon a last, perfect dream. And in that dream, the oldest living dragon let go, and passed away.

Zinkman exploded out from the stone hands. His bravado was gone, and his face now held something sterner, and perhaps with some mix of fear as well. He was now cut off from that which strengthened him, and I fired another shot to test his power. The shot was not reflected but nor did it have any effect. As I fired I felt the Mark of Power burn in hunger, but its power alone was not enough to overcome Zinkman.

At least three of us said at once “Together!”

A moment later, Zinkman was being attacked from all sides with our coordinated fury. It still did nothing. It may have been coordinated, but it needed to be combined. We knew. We all just knew.

Zinkman was hissing in fury, but was running out of choices. He tried to take over Scorch’s mind, but it just washed off him – Scorch was firmly in the habit of being mind blank-ed and Zinkman was in too much of a hurry to have broken it first. And Zinkman knew his end was near.

The power swelled on all sides, circling around us. Black energy flowed from Scorch and Valanthe, circling through us and into Aethramyr. Dravot and I focused and warm yellow energy erupted, and from Bolo, green swelling mana poured out. The energies combined in Aethramyr, twisting, combining, fusing into one single perfect stroke of white hot light.

Shatterspike fell, and Zinkman was split asunder before our combined power. The white light met his silver body and was split down the middle. He shrieked and the two halves of his body fell to the ground, worms of madness and corruption wriggling and burning into ash. As the sword continued downward, it tore into reality striking the burned earth. The impact sent an explosion outward radiating across the islands. As the shockwave erupted, it burned away the plagues from the Far Realms, at last crashing into the barrier and popping it like a bubble. As the echo died, the rift was erased from existence, and reality was restored to the Prime.

There was a giant collective sigh, which was followed by a sharp breath. The madness was gone, but the devastation was not. The island was burned, twisted and corrupted, and would be forever scarred.

Or perhaps not. “This… this is for me to heal,” Bolo said. He removed a ring from his hand – I recall that it was a divine gift but one who’s purpose he had never determined. But he knew now. He walked to the half-broken remains of the stone hands, and placed the ring in one of the palms. The hands slowly closed and drew the ring into the ground. The earth shuddered and the land began to renew itself, healing as if seasons were passing in the blink of an eye. In minutes, the land was rich as it once had been. The buildings were still shattered, but they were never the important thing here.

There was a hum in my mind as the scales seemed to reactivate. Then we heard a voice over the link.

“Shhhh! Meepo think they talking.”

“Meepo?” Scorch said.

“Oh!” the voice said. “They talking about Meepo. Meepo thinks he can hear them when they talk about him.”

“Meepo, we can hear you,” Scorch said patiently. “What’s happening out there?”

“Meepo has killed Zinkman!” he proudly declared.

“You killed him?” Valanthe said skeptically.

“Yes, Meepo did. About two minutes ago.”

We all just rolled our eyes. The other Zinkman must have been destroyed with this one. “That’s great Meepo. Good work.” Scorch said, not wanting to explain it.

Since the scales were active, I reached out for Lord Gelban, emotion and realization starting to overwhelm me slowly. “We’re done here,” I said tersely. 

“We know,” was his only reply.

The dragons were starting to array themselves protectively around the Silverring’s form. Even now, I can’t bring myself to write the word “body”. His face had a peace on his face I had seldom seen. The People of the Testing were meditating quietly near him. I walked up to him, and didn’t know what to do. The Platinar – no – Platinar no longer, now he was The Silverring – stood next to me and gently put the tip of his tail on my shoulder. And I fell against him.

And I cried for a long time.

The dragons would see to the final rest of the oldest of their kind. But before they did, Aethramyr took up the People of the Testing and marshaled their will. They created a monument – an ethereal statue almost. An enduring image of the Silverring, formed in the Dreaming but visible in the waking world. Anyone sleeping there would dream the noble dragon’s last dream and share in what he was. 

In time, more dragons came. Many more. Dragons of all metals and colors came to pay their respects. There was no mention of truce – there did not need to be. This was a day of mourning and no one would dare disrespect it.

Dravot and Aethramyr circulated among the dragons and forged an impromptu summit. In time, the Scaled Council would be reformed – the Dragon War had proved too costly to all sides. This much was apparent to all but it took someone like the Paragon to start the wheels turning. It will take years before the discussions are concluded but at least they had begun, which was the hardest part.

Infernus was of course party to this. To my slight surprise, he was not entirely rude. He clearly has no love for us, and bears us significant ill will, but he made it clear the Reds saw little profit in antagonizing us further. He was quite liberal with information about Ashardalon (as well as making it very clear what level of regard he has for his sire.) 

“Ashardalon has fled to the Shadow Plane, being a coward of the most base and venal kind,” he said. “You may not understand it of us, but wee respected the Silverring that he died when he chose to die and lived when he chose to live. Ashardalon failed in that and shamed every Red. He grasped at any thread of life like a mewling coward. Ashardalon has fled along with the pit fiend that acts as his new heart, but he is diminished.”

Aethramyr extended the olive branch. “Should you seek to destroy him we will be there to support you.” 

Infernus arched an eyebrow. “In truth, I think the opposite will be true and you will find him in your path before he is in ours. And we will help you if we can. As a sign of our good faith, we will abandon Bissel. We really only went there to annoy you.” Infernus continued in an amused, almost instructional tone of voice. “If you wanted to make amends, and realize we really don’t care either way, you can tell the people of Bissel that you aren’t planning on killing them all. While you see yourselves as heroes, they see you as potential conquerors, or they would not have turned to us. Consider that when you look in the mirror.”

The dragons held a formal service of sorts, but creatures would be arriving for weeks to come to pay their respects to the oldest dragon and the unique monument that was created in his name.


----------



## Zad

Assorted meta-game notes:

Scorch did indeed cast Mordnenkainen's Disjunction. It's been regarded as the nuclear weapon of the campaign - as long as we didn't use it on bad guys, Wizardru wouldn't use it on us. But it was a good move here. There was no shortage of personal risk on this one - I think Scorch had to roll percentile dice and get under his caster level, which he did with an 11%. The story doesn't reflect the risk but make no mistake it was there.

Apparently Kayleigh is not so fast that she can't hit herself. When I did only minor damage to myself and my fellow players expressed surprise, I reminded them that I don't take fire damage 

Aethramyr's actions, both in "putting the silverring to sleep" and in the monument, were very moving.

The whole thing with the solars was also extremely cool.


----------



## Seule

A long wait, but worth it.

  --Seule


----------



## the Jester

Ahhhh....

Well done, folks!


----------



## LordVyreth

Hah, so called the spell!  That was an excellent update, with lots of dramatic moments.  What's next for team Meepo?

Now, if you excuse me, I have to go hassle Dru in his thread on the mechanics of this fight.


----------



## aros

this thread w/the mechanics....where is it?  cause i would love to know the mechanics behind this fight cause it was amazing!


----------



## Zad

The mechanics of this fight were far more limited than you might think. (Then again I could be wrong but I'll give you my perception.)

The fight with the twisted creatures was pretty routine stuff. The fight with Zinkman was far more cinematic in its quality. His defenses were, as far as we knew, absolute, so we stopped trying. Actions we took had outcomes based on logic and story rather than dice rolls. By the time the Silverring was down and the rift nearly closed, we had moved into what Wizardru called "Cinematic Initiative" for the final attacks and such. It was a wonderful case where the story and role-playing transcended the mundane limitations of dice and rules and it was truly more a communal story than a game with books and cross-references.


----------



## LordVyreth

aros said:
			
		

> this thread w/the mechanics....where is it?  cause i would love to know the mechanics behind this fight cause it was amazing!




Lately, the one he's been using is here: http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=93626&page=1.  I don't know if he'll actually post anything on this fight, especially after Zad's comments, but if it ends up anywhere, it'll probably be here.  It's also where he gets ideas for storylines or monsters from those outside the campaign.  I must've given him around a dozen or more ideas myself, though only 3 made it into the campaign so far as far as I know.


----------



## dravot

Zad pretty much has the right of it.  WizarDru can give us specific details, but from what he told me after the fact, Der Zinkinator had 3 power sources: the binders, the rift and the Silverring.  With all 3 running, he was pretty much invincible (at least, he was to us).

He had 2 specific powers running: bouncing back spells, and bouncing back physical attacks.

I realized that a dimensional lock would probably plug up the rift, but my problem was that it would take like 5 of them to cover the entire rift (and thus another 5 rounds of combat at a minimum).  I dropped in the first one and was considering the use of a Miracle to expand out the lock, but the solar posse made it possible much more quickly.  That removed one of the 2 remaining powers (we didn't know this at the time, nor did we risk an attack or spell to find out)

Scorch's Disjunction removed the Silverring from Zinkie's grasp, and denied him the other power.  It was our guess that he was benefiting from the standard spell-bounceback, which reflects targeted spells, but Disjunction is an area spell, so that's why he risked it.

Without either ability, he was still difficult to defeat in game-world terms, but easy to defeat in game-mechanics terms.  Essentially, we all rolled to assist Aethramyr in delivering the killing blow.  (We had to do it twice, 'cause Valanthe rolled a 1 on the first assist).


----------



## Raging Epistaxis

Wow.

That was ...

Cool.  Impressive. Cinematic.  Inspiring.

Bravo everyone! 

Thanks for sharing your game with us. (and don't stop now!)

R E


----------



## Argent Silvermage

Bolo had a really hard time of it during that game. Nothing tried to eat him.  I'm sure if the Late Silverring (Long live the Silverring) had been close enough I would have been just the right snack for his psychotic form but Scorch just had to take him out of combat.   

Actually Most of the powerful druid spells are fire based and these creatures were immune to fire. I mainly relied on my Divine Agent of Ehlonna powers (Divine agent is a wonderful PRc) and then in the middle of battle I remembered the ring Beorey had gifted to me and thought maybe if I was able to touch Zinkmann with it it might force him away from the prime. but it was ment for more powerful things than that.


----------



## dravot

Game night!

We're currently discussing where in Greyhawk to lay the smack down.

Bolo is home sick, so we're a man down.  Get well, my tiny friend!  

We're doing some housekeeping - minor odds and ends while we discuss.


----------



## Rassilon

Starting about 2 months ago I started reading this story hour. I have now read every post, from post 1, to the post above.

I am freaking _addicted_ to this story.

Very well done all!

In other news, I've arranged to have your families and pasts erased from all memory: your only obligation now is to play . . . an write about it.


Rassilon.


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## WizarDru

Rassilon said:
			
		

> In other news, I've arranged to have your families and pasts erased from all memory: your only obligation now is to play . . . an write about it.




Thanks much for the kind words.  One the best parts of ENWorld is being able to share our game and enjoy details of other folks games, as well.  It doesn't hurt to have such a great groups of players, either. 

Zad may be getting a new story update up today, depending on his workload.

In the meantime, you can peruse our Eberron game.  Aethramyr has just posted the first installment over here .


----------



## Zad

*Strange Bedfellows - Chapter 3*

*Strange Bedfellows – Chapter 3
in which Bolo meets an untimely end...*

OOC Notes:
Exp is 3,000 for 25th, 2,340 for 26th. Bolo gets only a raspberry.

Loot:
+5 brilliant energy returning trident
Amulet of mighty fists +5
Belt of giant strength +6
+5 large steel shield (gooey)
Daern’s instant fortress

This Week’s Adventure:
With Zinkman eliminated, we cast about for the next problem that would be dealt with. Now that we had all three theerparts available to us, we were inclined to deal with the Shadow King. He, like Chavram, had managed to keep himself below the top spot on our list for years now, and it was time he was dealt with. But while we had the three pieces of the key, we weren’t exactly sure what to do with them.

Research into the subject proved problematic. The divine host had gone to considerable trouble to lock away Therizdun, and exerted just as much influence to expunge any material about the process, lest some troublesome mortals seek to undo what had been done. Indeed one book recovered from The ShadowTaker had some references to the process but they were inconsistent and the entire book disappeared when it was being examined. Certainly whatever protections the gods put in play were still very active. 

Dravot sought council from Pelor, but he could offer no guidance. It was a Mystery and he could divulge no information. Aethramyr received the same response from Sehanine, despite the fact that he was apparently chosen as the one to repair this shadowy leak. Aethramyr was shown a vision of a circular doorway of isometril, inscribed with the holy symbols of Pelor, Sehanine, and Heironeous, but little more. In all cases, you could hear the emphasis on the Mystery and with it were subtle hints that we should seek out a divinity who’s purview included such things. It slowly became clear that this information was denied mortals and most especially mages, who’s mind would immediately wander off if you even broached the subject. If discovery were possible, it seemed that Boccob would be the only source. 

We were hesitant to investigate further without our full strength, and Bolo had disappeared and seemed to be supervising the regrowth of the Lendores in some intangible way. So instead we focused on something more tangible – the Khel-Hr’dad. The three demon armies had been laying fairly low, but we weren’t going to tolerate them too long in any case. We had some dated information on their locations, and we chose to focus on the group in the Shield Lands. It was an unwelcoming area but there couldn’t be too many armies rampaging around. They might be cloaked from magical vision, but they would still leave a trail, and we would simply investigate the various armies until we found them. 

We utilized the druids and other contacts to get a sense of the various armies that were in the Shield Lands, then set out to examine each in turn. (I held the hope that, in person, it wouldn’t take more than a cursory examination to expose a demon army.) There were a number of armies in the Shield Lands (which is hardly unusual) so we teleported close then began using wind walk to investigate each in turn.

Our first sighting was an undead column about three thousand strong. Most of the rags and armory were Ahlyssan but there were other “recruits” in the mix. Some had been professional soldiers while others were just victims. In the rear were some more grossly decayed figures on horseback wearing ornamental armor from the personal guard of Ivid, and bearing standards with a green skull – Kargoth. Clearly this wasn’t our prey, but Dravot was loathe to leave them unmolested, and destroyed the front third of the column in a flash of light before we moved on. In hindsight it may have been wiser to destroy them utterly, though I was advocating ignoring them at the time. I did not want us to draw unwanted attention by destroying them, but at the same time, it’s hard to ignore such a force.

We turned northward and found a battalion of Nyrondese soldiers entrenching themselves in the remains of an old fortress. They had been there for some time, shoring up the old mott and baily defenses in their efforts to repatriate the Shield Lands. The force seemed to be exactly what it was, so we materialized to see if they had seen anything more suspicious. They were alarmed at first naturally but the soldiers who we appeared before quickly relaxed, deciding either we were no threat or were too much of one to be worried about. They shared their knowledge of the area and gave us information on some groups on the march, and we told them of the undead column to their south.

We moved on to the east, and after some time nearly everything died out. Only small game moved around scrub plants and the land seemed to be telling us to leave. Then ahead a treeline appeared and about two-hundred humans guarding it. 

Now it wasn’t that they were sloppy guards – they just stood around not acting at all like soldiers. It wasn’t the sloppy way they showed themselves. No, I think was the most telling was their arms – they just sort of flopped around at their sides unused, as if they’d just been pinned on and didn’t really work. We landed a good distance away and I went in for a closer look – Valanthe was more stealthy by far, but I was no slouch, and I knew what I was looking for when it came to armies far more than she. The soldiers seemed to talk a lot about blood, and there was no doubt that we’d found our prey.

Skirting around and over this group we found the main encampment beyond the treeline. There was some kind of old farmhouse that had been twisted to their purpose as well as some ruins with a ritual arrangement of vitaesis crystals. Most of the demons in the area were dretches wearing a human disguise like a loose skin, while the powerful demonspan – Nalfeshnees, Mariliths, and a Balor, were in their natural form but each with a small coral-like stone floating around their head. The Khel-Hr’dad was not visible but was likely in the house.

We made a plan (which consisted of “Let’s get ‘em!”) and attacked. We teleported into the area near where some mariliths were working on the ritual that involved the crystals, and started attacking. While powerful, they really weren’t our primary interest. But with the major demons spread around, we just started attacking one area figuring the others would come soon enough. We loosed some preliminary attacks and as expected, the balor came in first, followed by the explosion of most of the southern wall of the farm house.

The dust cleared and revealed a small but decidedly powerful presence. It was hardly larger than we were but the fear in the other demons was palpable. It was a walking beetle, but half of it was replaced or augmented by clockwork. Scorch believed it was a mezzaloth before it was altered with the touch of Mechanus. It had four arms of its own plus two mechanical tentacles and carried a trident. Part of its carapace broke off from its back and started floating beside it like a shield, dripping ichor as it bobbed.

A voice chimed in everyone’s mind. You would be the servants of the dragons I presume. Your approach was not unexpected. I am Zetitch Halfclock of the Khel-Hr’dad. Obviously you intend us harm. We will reciprocate. 

Then to the demons Those that do not attack and attempt to kill them will die by my hand first. Demon armies must have serious morale issues.

Aethramyr and I exchanged looks debating our first target while the others swung into action. One of the vitaesis crystals exploded violently in a manner that could only be Valanthe’s handywork. We weren’t sure what it was doing but it was likely that we’d want to stop it. 

Dravot spoke a single, pure word, and with it the nalfeshnees were exiled back to their own plane (and likely blinded, deafened and paralyzed, which put their survival in question.) Scorch tried to imprison the balor but failed.

“So this is the mighty Jonathan. Pathetic,” it sneered. It bought its flaming sword down, and killed Bolo. He was reincarnated in the shape of a dire wombat.

Hm. His information is clearly out of date. 

I had put several arrows into one of the mariliths when we first appeared and Valanthe finished her off in a flash of steel. If the other demons were afraid, it wasn’t stopping them for attacking. At least for now. One of them slashed at Aethramyr, who in return cut through her head, two arms, and her tail on the way to leaving a deep gouge in the ground.

I fired at the balor and it tried to implode me, but I was more fortunate than Aethramyr in that regard. Zetitch traced a series of arcane symbols in the air then slowly moved forward. As it did, tentacles lashed out and it killed Bolo, who was reincarnated as a half-fiendish sloth. (Which was good because we all realized we didn’t know what a wombat was.)

The dretch forces numbered around five thousand. They were nothing but nuisances, but there were a lot of them. Scorch’s next incantation released a mass suggestion, and he told the dretches that Zetitch was in fact a disguise and they should attack him. The dretches, being a) stupid and b) disinclined to fight in any case, quickly decided that if it wasn’t really Zetitch, they didn’t have to do what he said, and promptly plopped down and had a discussion on blood. Before doing this however, they first killed Bolo who was reincarnated as a newt. 

Dravot used his holy power to drive more of the demons off the plane, and the remaining mariliths all disappeared. I decided to soften up the balor for Aethramyr and drained away some of its strength. As it turned out, it didn’t matter much. Scorch broke out what I am sure is becoming his new favorite, and after humming a short tune, the balor started to dance. In his stepping and shuffling, the balor stepped on the now-newt Bolo, killing him instantly. He was reincarnated as a celestial tuna. There being no water nearby, he just flopped around a lot.

Aethramyr stepped up to the balor, smiling. The balor’s face was twisted in a combination of rage and fear, knowing that his end was at hand, and it would not be glorious. Aethramyr made several swift cuts, and the balor collapsed to the ground, feet still twitching.

Zetitch was quickly finding himself alone. Dravot tried to drain the energy from the demon but the spell bounced off an invisible cage of force protecting the mezzaloth. A part of the ray did reflect on to Bolo, draining him of several levels but not killing him. The force cage did explain why Zetitch was moving so slowly though. Scorch shrugged and disintegrated the cage, leaving him open to attack. The disintegration ray was also partially reflected by the cage before it was destroyed with this ray also hitting Bolo. This time however he was killed outright and was reincarnated as an albatross.

Zetitch was wide open, but showed surprisingly little reaction. I used a dimensional anchor to make sure he didn’t try to leave, while Valanthe began cutting into him from behind. Zetitch’s trident and tentacles ripped into Valanthe and would have killed her outright had she not been so quick. As it was, she was only badly wounded. Dravot and Scorch both drained Zetitch of his power, setting up for the subsequent attacks from Aethramyr, Valanthe and me. A moment later, the first of the Khel-Hr’dad collapsed on the ground, bits of oozing ichor the poisoning the soil.

We nodded each other in satisfaction, then began each assuming looks that varied from horror to disgust. There were still thousands of dretches here and I for one was not in a mood to destroy them. Oh certainly we could have. In fact any one of us could. But it somehow felt… dirty. Luckily there was another way. The vitaesis crystals were powering some kind of magical cloak, and Valanthe had no difficulty in detonating it to the point of uselessness. The cloak gone, the dretches were exposed to all, including the Judges. Waves of Judges quickly rallied to the area and began driving out the verminous demons and soon the area was freed of their presence. During the chaos, one of the Judges mistook Bolo for a dretch, and killed him. He was reincarnated as a vermiscious knid.

The field was ours, and our enemies driven utterly from it. Only questions remained. The first of course is what were the stats on a vermiscious knid. Lacking an answer, we killed Bolo. He was reincarnated as a rast. But while the first of the Khel-Hr’dad was destroyed, we still had no idea why it was here, what it hoped to achieve, and what it’s brethren wanted. If some theories were to be believed, they had gone to a great deal of trouble with the Bargain to be able to walk the Prime without harassment. But we did not know why they would want to.

It is possible however they just wanted to kill Bolo.


----------



## Greybar

Boy, you don't show up for a game and see what happens to you...


----------



## LordVyreth

As the creator of Xetich, I'm eager to hear any and all details about this fight.  It sounds like a good one and I'm glad that one of my creations managed to be more threatening than cannon fodder.


----------



## dravot

Zad said:
			
		

> *Strange Bedfellows – Chapter 3
> in which Bolo meets an untimely end...*
> 
> It bought its flaming sword down, and killed Bolo. He was reincarnated in the shape of a dire wombat.
> 
> 
> As it did, tentacles lashed out and it killed Bolo, who was reincarnated as a half-fiendish sloth. (Which was good because we all realized we didn’t know what a wombat was.)
> 
> Before doing this however, they first killed Bolo who was reincarnated as a newt.
> 
> In his stepping and shuffling, the balor stepped on the now-newt Bolo, killing him instantly. He was reincarnated as a celestial tuna. There being no water nearby, he just flopped around a lot.
> 
> A part of the ray did reflect on to Bolo, draining him of several levels but not killing him. The disintegration ray was also partially reflected by the cage before it was destroyed with this ray also hitting Bolo. This time however he was killed outright and was reincarnated as an albatross.
> 
> During the chaos, one of the Judges mistook Bolo for a dretch, and killed him. He was reincarnated as a vermiscious knid.
> 
> Only questions remained. The first of course is what were the stats on a vermiscious knid. Lacking an answer, we killed Bolo. He was reincarnated as a rast.
> 
> It is possible however they just wanted to kill Bolo.




"Yay!  I'm a llama again!"


----------



## Zad

Ok, lets see what I can recall:

The fight went well for us. We had no real plan, recognizing from the layout of the battelfield and the number of unknowns that there wasn't anything good we could do. We had one big advantage - we were initiating combat. That means we get to buff and they don't, and experience has shown us that is a big advantage.

Zetitch was in the farmhouse. The balor was in the trees, as were assorted lesser mariliths on patrol. Two big mariliths were at the ruins playing ritual games with the crystals. We buff and pop in at the ruins, poking at the mariliths for fun.

Now basically you have three categories of creatures - ignore, borderline, and threat. Dretches were "ignore" as were the nalfeshnees - odds were that they'd get wasted by something without too much trouble, and it turned out to be holy word. Borderline were the smaller mariliths - they also ended up being washed away by an area spell. The threats were Zetitch, the balor, and the two big mariliths. 

We didn't know exactly what the crystals were for but they were part of what was keeping the demons hidden from the judges. Lacking that info, we went for a straight fight rather than trying to get them exposed then banished.

The balor did a lot of attempting to TK people and using implosion. Ultimately he didn't do much with either, and of course once he was dancing, he was toast. 

Zetitch was moving forward slowly, presumably to avoid outrunning his force cage. An interesting defense but one Scorch took out and we just piled on him. Since we took out most of the other stuff first, he got to face everyone at once. He had lost something on the order of 12 levels and 8 strength as the serious dog pile began. He did a full attack on Valanthe and took her down by about a third of her hit points, but that was the most serious thing he did before he got smacked. 

I can't say for sure how many rounds we went - on the order of 5-6 I would think.


----------



## WizarDru

Greybar said:
			
		

> Boy, you don't show up for a game and see what happens to you...




He exaggerates, of course.  I only killed Bolo three times.  Of course, he wasn't really a Celestial Tuna....more of a Dire Carp, really.  

Notes:

The party contacted the following deities during as part of their research:
 Olidamarra, Pelor, Ralishaz, Sehanine and Tritherion.

_This was not considered unusual._

Four armies were reported as being on the march throughout the Shield Lands: the Nyrond Expeditionary Force, a mercenary company (Kargoth's forces), another mercenary company (the demons) and a paladin cavalry legion from the Theocracy of the Pale, supposedly led by the pontiff himself.  The last group was never checked, as they were the furthest away in the party's search pattern.

Dravot refused to leave Kargoth's force unmolested.  He dropped a hammer on their force, instantly destroying the first *800* undead infantry.  This gave them pause. 

Aethramyr has built his feat chain to a terrifying efficiency.  Evil Outsiders are like lambs to the slaughter to him, and more than one creature suffered a instant-death from one of his criticals.  Chaotic Evil Outsiders are a perfect storm of pain.  

Valanthe snuck up on Xetich.  I had her roll a Hide.  She got an 84.  She cut him, bad.  He retailiated, but her blink ability kept her safe from 3 out of 6 attacks, including one of two criticals.  He didn't get a second chance.

The Balor and two senior Mariliths were advanced.  For all the good it did them. 

The Balor did manage to capture Scorch with Telekinesis and get off a few implosions...but Dravot Greater Dispelled him, removing the TK.  Scorch, of course, keeps a Dim Door handy for situations like these, but it got him an additional action back.

For those who are keeping count: Xetich was the weakest of the three.


----------



## dravot

WizarDru said:
			
		

> He exaggerates, of course.  I only killed Bolo three times.  Of course, he wasn't really a Celestial Tuna....more of a Dire Carp, really.
> 
> Notes:
> 
> Dravot refused to leave Kargoth's force unmolested.  He dropped a hammer on their force, instantly destroying the first *800* undead infantry.  This gave them pause.




_Sunburst_ has an insane 80' radius.  Quick excel calcs showed me that's 20,000 sqft, roughly, or 800+ 5x5 squares.  Gazorch.



			
				WizarDru said:
			
		

> The Balor did manage to capture Scorch with Telekinesis and get off a few implosions...but Dravot Greater Dispelled him, removing the TK.  Scorch, of course, keeps a Dim Door handy for situations like these, but it got him an additional action back.




My big concern was removing the _Implosion_, not knowing that he could recast it at will.  Rescuing Scorch was merely a bonus action.


----------



## LordVyreth

WizarDru said:
			
		

> For those who are keeping count: Xetich was the weakest of the three.




Dude, ouch.  Way to kick a guy when he's down.   

In my justification, Xetich was only a CR 23 when I made her.  Yes, her; apparently she had a gender change somewhere in those last few levels.  I'm actually curious about what you did to advance her, besides the force cage itself.  Any chance you can post the new stats here or in the other thread?

As for the other Hrdad, I can't help you.  I only made this one, so unless he really changed some of my other ideas, I'm as in the dark as you are.

Overall, my original intention for Xetich was a more "assassin" style fighter.  That is, wait for the enemy to be totally unaware or distracted by other enemies, use her invisibility and haste spell-like-abilities, then dire charge (an epic level feat that lets you get in a full attack after charging,) and wail on somebody.


----------



## WizarDru

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> In my justification, Xetich was only a CR 23 when I made her.  Yes, her; apparently she had a gender change somewhere in those last few levels.  I'm actually curious about what you did to advance her, besides the force cage itself.  Any chance you can post the new stats here or in the other thread?




Actually, the point was made several times about gender, but the party really didn't see the 'her', just the 'it'.  The other Hr'dad are prepared, and have been for some time.



			
				LordVyreth said:
			
		

> Overall, my original intention for Xetich was a more "assassin" style fighter.  That is, wait for the enemy to be totally unaware or distracted by other enemies, use her invisibility and haste spell-like-abilities, then dire charge (an epic level feat that lets you get in a full attack after charging,) and wail on somebody.




The problem, unfortunately, is that those tactics don't really work terribly well against the meepites.  The meepites came out of nowhere, and dire charging into combat would merely have gotten her killed very quickly against them.  Invisibility is virtually a non-spell at this point, with half the party permanently mind-blanked and true sighted.  

Xetich was slightly advanced from what you created, with about 5 extra hit dice, and the Force Cage spell-like ability.  With Dravot banishing her support left and right, the demon force collapsed very quickly.  It is unlikely this strategem will work twice.


----------



## the Jester

The real problem with Dire Charge is that it only works in the first round of combat.  :\   Which I discovered to my chagrin with an epic level bad guy of my own.


----------



## dravot

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Xetich was slightly advanced from what you created, with about 5 extra hit dice, and the Force Cage spell-like ability.  With Dravot banishing her support left and right, the demon force collapsed very quickly.  It is unlikely this strategem will work twice.



I was unsure as to how powerful the support force was, so I figured it was better to just get rid of them.  If nothing else, they'd nickel-and-dime us to death.

I still giggle at the thought of the Nalfeshnees, paralyzed, blind and deaf back on the Abyss.


----------



## Argent Silvermage

JEEZE! I get an inner ear infection and can't stand let alone drive and they kill me over and over.... :\ 

Great read Zad. I liked the Celestial Tuna.  For a few moments there I was "Chicken of the Ce-lestials."


----------



## Zad

Now let's be fair. *We* only killed you once. The rest of the time, it was someone else's fault.

That's my story and I'm stickin' to it.


----------



## LordVyreth

So what went on this weekend?  Did you play this game, Dravot's, another one entirely, or just nothing went on due to the holidays or other complications?


----------



## dravot

LordVyreth said:
			
		

> So what went on this weekend?  Did you play this game, Dravot's, another one entirely, or just nothing went on due to the holidays or other complications?



Holidaze madness.  Some people went to game night at WizarDru's and others (like me) did other festivities.


----------



## Blacklamb

Argent Silvermage said:
			
		

> JEEZE! I get an inner ear infection and can't stand let alone drive and they kill me over and over.... :\
> 
> Great read Zad. I liked the Celestial Tuna.  For a few moments there I was "Chicken of the *Ce-lestials."  *



*


BEAUTIFUL!
Pun are natures cure for rainy days!*


----------



## Zad

We've actually managed to do some planning in advance this month. So good news is we know when the next game is. Bad news is it's not til 12/16. (We'll be doing one night each of the Barakus and Eberron campaigns over the next two weeks tho.)


----------



## dravot

Game tonight.  Yay!


----------



## LordVyreth

Woo!  What's the plan for the game tonight?


----------



## thatdarncat

yay! *hugs the story hour*


----------



## dravot

It was a fun night, kinda quiet, game wise (ie, not much combat), but we're ready for the next session and the huge fight that's about to break out.  Whee!


----------



## LordVyreth

Did we catch you in a busy week, Zad?  I'm eagerly awaiting the next update.  Or, failing that, the next update of the Eberron game!


----------



## WizarDru

Well, I haven't asked him, but if I were to hazard a guess, he may be waiting until after the next session, since the previous session was relatively short on story details but long on build-up for the upcoming session.  Over an hour of build-up and OoC discussion about tactics and consequences and plans....doesn't always translate effectively into interesting story hour material.

And the upcoming battle is likely to be BIG.  If not for the veiled threat that one of the Khel Hr'dad made, the Meepites probably woud have walked away from this fight at this time in this place.  There are lives in the balance, and heroes don't walk away from bad odds.  I expect them to pull out all the stops when Hell breaks loose.  

Already, Valanthe has changed the initial set-up for the combat.  It's anybody's guess what's going to happen, next.


----------



## dravot

You know you've reached epic levels when you start talking about standard balors as 'Commercial Off the Shelf'.


----------



## Len

A _standard_ balor? LordV, you're falling down on the job. WizarDru needs your help, man!


----------



## Aethramyr

Len said:
			
		

> A _standard_ balor? LordV, you're falling down on the job. WizarDru needs your help, man!




Heh...heh heh...hahahahaha BWAHAHAHA...oh...man..*Whew*... 

Wizardru NEEDING help...that's funny.


----------



## LordVyreth

Actually, from what I've heard, he's got at least a half dozen of my other ideas on standby.  Still, it never hurts to ask if he needs anything new...


----------



## WizarDru

Len said:
			
		

> A _standard_ balor? LordV, you're falling down on the job. WizarDru needs your help, man!




See, his point was...the _*normal*_ vanilla Balor*s* just weren't as big a source of concern as....well, THEM.  The irony of referring to a general of the armies of the abyss in the same terms if they were bugbears...well, it wasn't lost of us.   

I take it as a point of pride that I can still fashion an encounter that gives the Meepites pause.


----------



## Zad

WizarDru said:
			
		

> Well, I haven't asked him, but if I were to hazard a guess, he may be waiting until after the next session, since the previous session was relatively short on story details but long on build-up for the upcoming session.  Over an hour of build-up and OoC discussion about tactics and consequences and plans....doesn't always translate effectively into interesting story hour material.




This is true but truthfully I have not even really looked over my notes to determine how much I have to work with.

The fact of the matter is that I'm up to my armpits in alligators at work. Not the occasional business that delays me a day or two - this is bad. I have some serious problems and not to overshare but it's causing me some significant stress and other problems. I'm a good one for leaving work at work, so when I'm running jobs around the clock for a few weeks, it's pretty bad. And I have to admit that I'm not holding up very well at the moment.

I'm sure I could at least get a teaser out of what we did last time, but the sad truth is that the story is the last thing on my mind right now. My apologies to all you readers - I wish I was doing better with this but right now I'm not, and I don't want to overstrech and give you crap material for the sake of having posted something.


----------



## thatdarncat

no worries - take your time  We'll still be here.


----------



## Zad

Yay! It's our annual message board crash. We've lost five months worth of activity here.

I'll try to figure out what's what and start reposing the end of the campaign.


----------



## Zad

*Strange Bedfellows - Chapter 4 and 5*

*Strange Bedfellows – Chapter 4 and 5*

Author’s Note: 
Typically this story hour has followed the convention that each chapter/post represents a single session of play. However due to the demands of real-life and increasing difficulty of finding a play date that all the Meepites can make, this edition actually covers two play sessions. I’ll label them Chapter 4 and 5 for consistency however.

OOC Notes:
Chapter 4 exp was 3000xp. (I assume this is for 25th level characters, not sure on 26)
Chapter 5 exp was 15,505 for 25th level characers, 11,140 for 26th.


This Week’s Adventures:
The battle had drawn no shortage of attention. I could see at least twenty scrying sensors scattered around, and when I actually stopped to look the number became more like forty. We began scouting around for anything of significance, and came across some papers and a map. The map itself was magical and somewhat cryptic but it seemed to indicate that there was something significant about this location. We began to suspect that perhaps a primal was located here and we searched for an access point to confirm our fear. As Dravot and Aethramyr walked around, bones became to come up through the ground wherever they walked. It was more intense when Dravot investigated the root cellar of the farmhouse. Near the bones, it was possible to discern souls, wispily tied to their mortal remains. There was no doubt that something was buried here.

Scorch debated a number of spectacular ways to remove the rickety farmhouse from the site, and ultimately just gave up on the fireworks and started digging, shifting to the shape of a variety of large burrowing beasts. As he did, more bones started rising up in a ring around the entire site. There were thousands of bodies here, but no indication as to why. Finally we put

Primal of light.

We still had more demons to deal with, so we resolved to separate and deal with personal business then meet up in Brindinford to continue the hunt. Waiting for Dravot were some unusual guests. 

It was fairly obvious that something was amiss by the way the household staff was acting. Now one must remember that these people by now have a somewhat higher tolerance of the odd, and yet were still put off. They weren’t panicking, just uncomfortable, which suggested that whatever the problem was, it had been going on for some time. They were very polite about the Lord’s “guests” but some direct questions finally brought out that “something” was in the gardens waiting for Dravot. Valanthe investigated and found two inevitables. As if that wasn’t strange enough, they had been modified and altered. They were standing still, just waiting.

Valanthe decided to be direct. “What do you want here?”

They cocked their heads and looked around. One said “Terribly sorry for the inconvenience – we must be addressing Valanthe since we cannot register you, lawbreaker.”

Valanthe’s reflexes from days gone by were quick to respond. “Lawbreaker? You must be mistaking me for someone else.”

The inevitable was deadpan. “You died and returned, correct?”

Valanthe said “Yes…”

“Lawbreaker.”

Valanthe went on. “What is your purpose here?”

That turned out to be a very difficult question to answer. Inevitables are driven by purpose, but these two found themselves without one. They could not remember their function – their programming has been rendered invalid. And so they are creatures of purpose that have no purpose. Dravot joined Valanthe and could see two judges flanking each creature. Their faces were impassive as always and yet they radiated an aura of boredom. The judges were prodding the inevitables from the ethereal with their staves, attempting to banish them. It did not work but they continued to try anyway. They looked like they had been at this for days but their mandate allowed no sense of futility.

Dravot had no idea what to do about all this, but invited them to remain until other matters could be settled. The evening brought a pleasant feast with the Lord’s return and in the morning we resumed our hunt for the Khel-Hr’dad.

We exercised a variety of contacts and determined that the two remaining forces had merged in the Yeomanry and we quickly picked up their trail. They had fortified their position in an apple orchard and farmstead. There were patrols in the air and on the ground, but we slipped past them without much trouble and found the main force. There were over ten thousand dretches, several large balors and a variety of standard balors, mariliths, and so on. Valanthe began a reconnoiter to locate the yugoloths and their cloaking apparatus. 

In a silo, she found one of them. It was vaguely like an insect or tortoise – it was covered in a large carapace and on the back were imbedded several large vitaesis crystals. It was spread eagle and holding itself half way up the silo. Valanthe was left with the distinct impression that this one was shielding the force from the Judges.

Then a voice spoke from right next to Valanthe. “Still no sign of them. They have not arrived or they are hidden from us.” Valanthe could hear the voice, but could not see the demon from which it came.

The other demon spoke. “You are too impatient Vynoxa. We need only kill one of them and the bargain will be kept.”

Vynoxa responded “I don’t see how killing one of them will be of any value to us. The godling thing will bring them back.”  Valanthe looked carefully but could not locate her. Valanthe realized she was searching for someone who, like her, was touched by the void and who’s skill at stealth was equal to, perhaps even surpassing her own.

“He cannot raise what I ingest. Once I turn one of them into a minion it does not matter if they raise them or not.”

Vynoxa was still miffed. “Was it necessary to sacrifice Zetitch for this plan to work?”

Despite suspending itself in the silo, the demon shrugged. “It was the only way to insure they came for the rest of us.”

“I have been searching for the hidden one but have seen no sign of her. She will be the first one they send. Perhaps we should draw them out by sacrificing some dretches.”

The other demon agreed. “If they have not attacked by tomorrow, then we shall level Greyhawk. Once there are a few thousand dead on their hands, they will come for us.”

Vynoxa snorted. “Henzon, I don’t understand your fascination with that misbegotten city. I say we kill thousands in several cities, not just one. These dretches irritate me to no end either way.” Vynoxa apparently needed no answer to know the answer. “Fine. You sit here and wait. I will look for her again. If she is here, I will find her.”

No, thought Valanthe. No you won’t.

Valanthe waited til Vynoxa had withdrawn, then took out a small device and ran it around the frame of the door of the silo. Then she returned to us and told us what she had seen.

“I don’t like it,” I said. “It’s suspicious. Demons are telepathic – why would this Vynoxa come to the silo? Why converse out loud in a language you could understand? It may have been staged.”

“True,” Dravot said. “But what does it change?”

No one had an answer for that. 

“I’ve picked up a new device – I can use it to create a gateway between any two doorways. I’ve tuned it to the silo and we can use another door to enter as if it was the next room.”

The beginning of a plan. The end of the plan went something like “… we’ll rush in and kill them!”

Some days it’s that simple. The number of bad things that can happen grows to such a point that you just can’t plan for them. The only nuance was that Valanthe and I would attempt to use opposed vitaesis to destroy the crystals on the Henzon’s back, and hopefully weaken the cloak so the Judges would swarm in. 

We prepared and swarmed through the gateway. The silo was cramped – only ten feet across. But our sudden appearance had Henzon looking down with only a muffled cry of “Mmmmff?”

I loosed vitaesis arrows at the crystals I could see – they were on the top of the shell and I was beneath so at any moment, my view was limited. One of them shattered with a satisfying burst of crystal sound and light, but the other one glanced off. The rest of my volley was at the underbelly but simply buried themselves without reaction.

Aethramyr rose up and unleashed his full fury. Shatterspike nearly shattered the very air it moved with such force. I’ve never seen anything receive such blows, and I was even more astounded to see the wounds did not last. The blood was of varying colors but was quickly squelched off as the blade passed. Outside, there were noises and explosions.

[OOC: Let me lay this out for you: Aethramyr did Smite Evil five times. His total damage for the volley was 659 damage. No, that is not a typo. Six hundred and fifty nine. And this thing was unfazed.]

Scorch piped up “Demon incoming.” One of the new preparations we had set up was a spell that warned of incoming teleportation and would delay the arrival for a few seconds. We were expecting to need those few seconds.

Henzon spoke. “That was… unpleasant.”

Aethramyr quipped “Want me to do it again?”

Henzon said, in all seriousness “Actually… no.”

Henzon twitched and one of the jade vitaesis crystals on its back exploded and shattered to the ground, spreading a green gas along with the crystal fragments. It didn’t seem to have any effect though. Dravot’s response was to strip away the magic protecting Henzon with qualified success.

Behind us, a large balor ripped open the wall and shouted boasts at how eager it was to fight the Paragon. Aethramyr and I looked at each other with confusion. Nobody with half a brain really *wants* to fight the Paragon. Clearly this fellow wasn’t too bright. But we just ignored him and continued our assault on Henzon. Crystals were shattering but we really couldn’t determine if we were having any lasting effect.

Scorch warned of a number of additional demons that would be teleporting in shortly. Inside the silo, Henzon spoke a vile word, but his profanity had little effect beyond making my ears ring for a moment.  Then Henzon turned over, and the vitaesis scales exploded in light with varying prismatic effects. Henzon nearly fell though, since Valanthe had been creeping around half way up the silo undermining its hold on the walls. 

But while Valanthe crept, something else was stalking her. Vynoxa was undetectable to most of the party, but Valanthe and I both knew she was close. She was stalking Valanthe but the two professionals were nearly equally matched, and each had difficulty keeping constant track of the other.

Dravot decided to attend to some of the reinforcements and spoke a word of blessed joy and light, and outside a great many balors and mariliths either suffered various discomforts or were simply expelled from the plane entirely.

Scorch attempted to imprison Henzon, and very nearly succeeded. The demon was torn away from reality but then snapped back abruptly. “You are not old enough to imprison me, fleshling,” Henzon taunted.

Aethramyr continued to hammer blow after blow upon Henzon. Two legs broke free of the wall and plaster and rock showered down as it tried to stay suspended. But still Henzon did not seem to be suffering for the punishment. It blasted the roof off the top of the silo trying to open an escape route.

The large Balor was still howling to fight Aethramyr, ripping at the wall to clear a path and outraged that it was being ignored. Dravot flicked a ray at it and it was sorely weakened from the energy. Suddenly it seemed far less anxious to fight than it had been a moment before.

I was becoming worried about Valanthe – if we lost track of Vynoxa for too long it could be someone’s death. An explosion of gold dust filled the silo, and Vynoxa was revealed. (I should note that when I say “revealed”, it’s relative. Her consummate skill still made her difficult to spot for most of us, but to Valanthe or me, she was completely exposed.) She seemed to be at least part night hag judging from the fangs, and she bore a longsword coated with ichor and had a large crystal in her cleavage.

On the ground,  Dravot spoke again and more demons suffered or were banished. This battle had raged for only a few seconds but so far, no creature had died and no advantage was showing. But this was changing. With all the Henzon’s gyrations, the upper side of the shell was now exposed to me, and I blasted apart one crystal after the next. Valanthe then pounced on Henzon, driving Shadowcut deep into the shell. There was a peeling crack, and the shell broke into a half dozen pieces and fell to the floor, leaving Henzon exposed.  It grabbed the wall before falling and tried to plane shift away, but Valanthe managed to distract it long enough to disrupt the spell despite Vynoxa’s attacks on her.

Now was the time where the battle would be won or lost. Lost, in this sense, means the escape of the Khel-Hr’dad, and we acted quickly. Dravot cast a spell to stop all travel in the area. Scorch then put a dimensional lock on Henzon, and I did the same to Vynoxa. They weren’t going anywhere.

Curiosity finally got the better of me though. “You know,” I said, “we might let one of you live if you explain what you’re doing here. Just one though.”

Henzon laughed. “This intrigues us not at all. You are infamous for your eradication.”

I shrugged. “Still, you went through an awful lot of trouble here. I can’t imagine what was worth it.”

Henzon said coldly “The profit far exceeded the risk.”

His last words. Aethramyr brought Shatterspike through a single arc, and removed Henzon’s head from his body.

Vynoxa looked concerned to say the least. She was effectively alone, with the larger balors having withdrew just before. She could not fight, she could not flee, and she could not hide. Or at least so I thought. She took a dagger and drove it into the crystal in her chest, and she disappeared. 

“Summoned?!?” cried Scorch with disgust, recognizing the magics. “She was summoned here – she’s back where she came from now, despite our locks.”

“Feh,” I said.

Outside, the Judges were on the scene and doing what they do. We didn’t bother to help ourselves – the remaining demons were well within the Judges power, and we’d done enough of their job as it was. Meltorannan saw us emerge and landed nearby.

“Can any of you control the weather?” he asked. “The dretches have belched a toxic gas in a very large cloud that should be contained lest it find people on the wind.” Bolo wasn’t with us, but Dravot was able to bring the winds to a calm so the cloud did not move until it settled out of the air.

“This situation is becoming intolerable,” Meltorannan said. I just stifled a laugh. “My master will ask for your help I would think. This is the fourth, no fifth time this has occurred. The interdiction is clearly flawed. My master is… unhappy. He would seek a way to redress the problem. But it would require beings of your power to help stop it since it will require someone to go off the Prime to solve the problem.”

“I find it strange that a god would require beings of ‘our power’ to correct a problem in his own domain,” I said with an equal mix of confusion and sarcasm. I didn’t need Meltorannan to know the interdiction was flawed – we’d done nothing of late but clean up messes in the midst of the portfolio of a deity who was born to do specifically that. Of late I have been frustrated and confused at the power of this god who seemed to have more limits than not – something that seemed echoed in our own gods. Perhaps the real problem is that I am still struggling with the idea of the power of the gods. I had always regarded it as an absolute – their will was simply done, and I had never considered “how”. Now, *we* are the “how”, and I’m still struggling with the concept of being the hand of my god so directly. When I allow the thought, it seems arrogant and presumptuous.

Meltorannan was showing more emotion than was typically allowed judges but his ire was not focused on me. “Perhaps I was not clear. My master is very unhappy. We have long suspected the demon prince of deception’s hand in undermining the interdiction. My master feels it is time he was stopped. My master wants you to go to the abyss and kill him. And now we have a direct trail back to Fraz.”

Scorch was leery. “How?” 

“Because his summoned creature just returned to him. And we have traced her journey.”

Scorch nodded, his eyes bright. I was still in shock.

Meltorannan continued. “Fraz Erb Lu has generated many enemies lately. He is beset. He has Gra’ast on one side, Rhyxalli on the other. They are all maneuvering against him. Now his plot has failed twice and he has expended a great many souls in the process. He is weaker than he has ever been. If he is eliminated, the problem is eliminated. Now we ask your help in dealing with him. You can of course say no.”

“What help can you provide?” Dravot asked casually. I was still in shock. 

“We will provide what help we can,” the celestial answered. “Off the Prime, we cannot do much. We do have allies, but not in the abyss.”

I had started to recover. “We may be able to get allies in the abyss, if Fraz is as beset as you say. But that’s not the point. We’re talking about a demon prince here. A being who is nearly a god and has been layering deceptions for millennia. We cannot simply kill him like some upstart orcish tribal leader.”

Meltorannan seemed to consider this a moment. “I think you underestimate your own efficacy. At least against a demon prince – he is *not* a god. He is also not a great warrior like Gra’azt, nor a great tactician like Demagorgon. He plots, but he is not tactical. The key is getting him away from his infrastructure. Further, if you defeat Fraz, you may find a key to getting Orcus expelled from the Prime. My master would greatly appreciate that. Fraz must have some hand in Orcus’ expansion on the Prime, and therefore he may be set back by Fraz’s destruction.”

The death of a demon prince. The consequences are hard to imagine. Certainly his rivals would be glad for his death, but what else would turn its attention on us? Or our deities? Dravot might be exempt but what would the price would be for the rest of us if we struck down a demon lord?


----------



## Zad

*The Reckoning - Chapter 1*

*The Reckoning – Chapter 1*


OOC Notes:
Experience is 1055 for 25th level characters, 825 for 26th, and 570 for 27th.

The Blessings of a God: As revealed in the last session, Ralishaz, god of the Prime and deity in charge of enforcing the interdiction against outsiders on the Prime, has become irked with the repeated manipulation of the interdiction. He has requested that the party pursue Fraz to his recently-discovered lair in the Abyss and destroy him. To support them he has bestowed a boon on them, hearkening back to his previous incarnation as a god of chance and gamblers. 

In a word: Action points. (Ok that’s two words.) But not just your average ol’ action points. Wizardru was planning on just using regular action points but for the timely arrival of the Mythic Heroes supplement from Badaxe Games. This small supplement offers an expanded view of action points with the aim of making the players truly heroic. So this is what we’ll be using. Most of us haven’t had a chance to review it in detail yet, but there it is for those of you familiar with it. As for the shadow class feature, Aethramyr is The Hero, Valanthe is The Shadow (surprise), Dravot, Bolo, and Scorch are Oracles, and Kayleigh is likely to be either Hero or Fated. The players each get 15 action points, roll 3d6 for the effect dice, and since the action points are a boon from a god, they do not replenish ever. 


This Week’s Adventure:
It was previously our intention to deal with the matter of Therizdun and the Shadow King as soon as possible before something went wrong. With Fraz’s location now known to us, it left us with a difficult question – which foe to pursue. There were complex issues to consider, but ultimately the choice ended up being made for us. In order to deal with the Shadow King, we needed all three theerparts and we finally had them. My fear in delaying dealing with this matter is that somehow we’d lose one or more of them. And that is exactly what happened. There was no trace left behind to implicate her, but it seemed that while we were dealing with the first of the Khel’Hrdad, Vynoxa stole one of the theerparts. The fact that there was no evidence was the reason I suspected her – it was unlikely there were many that could accomplish such a theft, and one of them was Valanthe, so it seemed plausible that her near-equal could do it as well.

So an assault on Fraz it would be. On some level I found the concept ridiculous; Fraz was the prince of deception, and wove plans within plans, misdirection within illusion. The idea that he was suddenly traced was far too convenient to be taken at face value. But it was our habit to push forward despite obvious traps, and we’d survived well enough so far. And so it would be again. The cynical part of me was sure Fraz was counting on that.

But we would not be without allies. Ralishaz could offer little in the way of direct aid or allies, but he did bestow upon us a full measure of his power to manipulate fate. It would doubtless come in handy and could well be a wildcard that Fraz could not anticipate. Even with that, it would be helpful to have allies in a more substantial sense, and ones that were native to the layers of the abyss. 

It was hardly a secret that Fraz has been at war with Graz’zt and Rhyxali. Demon princes war on each other, either openly or covertly. But Fraz was supposedly hard pressed from all sides right now, and this was an ideal time to strike according to Ralishaz. (That this may have been a deception created by Fraz was a thought that seemed to enter no ones mind but my own.) However, in this case, the enemy of my enemy was, if not my friend at the every least not my enemy. We therefore set out to try to establish allies by playing demonic forces against each other. Certainly we consider ourselves a force for good in the world, but our morals are flexible, and more importantly, practical enough that this was not a problem for anyone. Were we to try to negotiate specific aid, it would surely devolve into a long, horrific conversation with beings who delight in negotiation and exploitation of contracts. Therefore our approach was simply to inform these groups of our impending action, and let them take what advantage of it they may. At the very least, we hoped it would avoid direct confrontation with demonic forces that were loyal to the other princes, and therefore not of interest to us. And as for secrecy, we assumed Fraz knew we would come, and therefore there was more to be gained by recruitment.

Scorch, as the guild minister, had access to a vast network of contacts to beings of all moral standing. It was a fairly simple matter for him to arrange audiences with representatives of the demonic factions on Sigil. Each maintained a standing “office” of sorts there, so it was simply a matter of facilitating the visit.

Our first stop was with Graz’zt. Not the being himself of course – his presence in Sigil would be entering into a grey area that would not be risked for something that could be handled by a lackey. His offices were in a small brown brick building. Outside a rebus creature was adding bricks onto a wall on the back while various other construction creatures scurried about. The antechamber was an odd mix of sights one would only find on Sigil – three foot warboots next to a cloak and walking stick against one wall, and chairs of all sizes. A set of stairs led upward with a velvet rope politely dissuading the over-anxious. A panel in a wall opened up on a tiny room entirely consumed by a thin desk and a massive demon holding a comically small pen. It didn’t require any understanding of demonic hierarchies to realize this beast was being punished for something.

“Name?”

An odd formality, since I’m sure by now it knew who we were. Nonetheless we complied and waited as requested. In the waiting area was a fire elemental slowly burning away the chair in which it sat as well as a small mephit with an indescribably bored look on its face. 

“Looks like we may be in for a wait,” Aethramyr observed.

“No we’re not,” I smiled. “We’re doing him a favor being here and with an appointment no less. If they want to leave us sitting, that’s their choice. But if they don’t see us in a few minutes, then we simply leave. If a lich didn’t beat us, neither will a bureaucracy.”

A few minutes passed, and we shrugged at each other and got up to leave. As if waiting for that cue, a freshly slimed dretch burbled into the room and asked us to follow it.

It took us to a large room with a well-crafted wooden desk and a leather chair, turned away from the door. On the desk was a nameplate – King Krick the Defiler. Once we had entered, the chair turned slowly to show a perfectly dressed vrock, his suit complete with frilly neck tie. King Krick seemed to put some attention into trying to impress supplicants. If he had put as much attention into screening his visitors, he would know better than to waste his time. 

“Good morning,” I said patiently.

“Good morning, and welcome,” Krick said.

And then my patience ran out. “Do you know why we are here?” I asked. He surely had some inkling.

“This would be about Fraz then?” he responded warily.

“Yes. Forgive me for violating demonic convention and speaking plainly – we are moving against Fraz. Soon. Your master may find advantage to be gained in this. We are not here to negotiate for any specific aid, merely to inform. At a minimum, we would prefer to avoid open conflict with your master’s forces while on this mission, as it would not serve our purpose. Any inconvenience for Fraz, and hence gain for your master, benefits us both.”

“I understand,” Krick said, somewhat surprised at both the directness and take-it-or-leave-it nature of our information. He was clearly anxious for some haggling but none was to be had.  “You should know that your movements are watched in Sigil.”

“We tend to assume our movements are generally just ‘watched’,” I shrugged. 

[OOC Note: Quote from Wizardru: “At this point, you guys are Brangelina – you never know what’s going to happen but everybody’s watching because something will happen when you’re around.”]

Krick looked further disappointed. The tidbits of information he had were drawing no curiosity from us, still denying him any chance at bargaining over anything at all. He jettisoned the rest of his currency with some depression. “Also, the Khel’Hrdad are not dead. Their souls have been consumed pursuant to the Bargain. Should you encounter the sole ‘surviving’ member (he waved his claws quoting the word) you should try to avoid actually killing her. I suspect you were planned to kill all three but Vynoxa turned coward and ran.”

I turned to my companions. “Again with the Bargain. Useless.” We had been hearing of it for nearly a year, and still had no understanding of it.

Krick lit up, taking my bait but not offering what I’d hoped. “If you are interested in the details of the Bargain, we can offer that, perhaps for the price of Fraz’s staff, an item of some small power,” Krick lied. The staff was no less than Orcus’ rod.

Aethramyr snorted openly. “Too high a price. We’ve gone this far, we’re prepared to go on never knowing. Frankly, I’ve lost interest in it.”

Krick savored what little give-and-take he got, and we ended the interview. He began furiously writing on pieces of paper in a stack on his desk. As he finished each, he folded it and it disappeared in a puff of flame. He tried to bid us farewell casually but the fury of his writing belied his calm. Obviously not everything about this meeting was anticipated.

Our next meeting was with Rhyxali’s agents. We entered an industrial sector, the stench and foul liquids making Bolo sick to his stomach. In an empty alleyway, a sewer grate showed the number of the address we sought, and we made our way through the sewers for a bit to find the reception slime. Aside from the entire affair being much… gooier, the discussion went much like the first. The slimy black creature with whom we met was unlike Rhyxali in that it showed no interest in negotiating with us. But it did suggest we may find profit in talking with Demagorgon’s forces as well. Rhyxali was not in open conflict with Fraz at the moment, but was in conflict with Demagorgon who was in conflict with Fraz. Therefore any action might indirectly benefit Rhyxali. 

It was simple to arrange a third interview, and we were soon standing before a plain looking human in front of a plain desk. As we had just started talking, another man burst in, accusing the man of treachery. Only slightly surprising was that the second man looked identical to the first, and they somehow managed to conduct the meeting while backstabbing each other, first verbally then later physically. When we left, they were rolling on the ground stabbing and/or biting each other, but our information had been delivered and I had no doubt they would stop their fighting long enough to pass it on, or risk their masters ire.

We decided to make one more stop in Sigil to visit Mortimer Fuvex-vex-vex. On our way, we were stopped by more than a few touts, who informed us that Dravot-related regalia was in high demand and they would be happy to take some of it off our hands. (Dravot was not with us – his divine status made him persona-non-grata in Sigil now.)

We arrived at a four story building that had easily thirty people working inside. In the doorway was a large plaque. At the top was a portrait of Mortimer with the caption “Our Chairman”. Beneath were portraits of the six of us and the caption read “Our Founders”. 

Mortimer was elated to see us, and we disposed of the fairly modest pile of pillage we had accumulated. To be honest, I was not sure we’d be returning from this trip, and so I wanted to stop in on Mortimer one more time since we were in the area. We then concluded our business and returned to the Prime.

There was a certain sense of dread growing inside me, and that necessitated another trip for me. Even without the ill feelings, I’d have gone home anyway – it was now my habit to always make sure things were well at home before leaving the Prime for any time. (Even though leaving the plane was becoming less and less desirable for me.)

I decided to stop at the palace first, then visit home. The Queen saw me quickly, and had forseen that I would be coming soon. Even without the binder she had a number of other tools at her disposal as well as a sizable information network she created with the aid of the binder. She told me the troops are on their way home. The Mak has withdrawn deep into his own territory and his retreat seems genuine. He has moved further than is sensible to commit to and therefore the armies are recalled, the threat abated for now. She also told me that Celene was safe and there was no sign of any danger. 

“There is one other thing, my dear,” she said. “I have seen the Celenean recently. He was asking about you.”

I was puzzled. “Asking? In what way?”

“Asking to see you. As in ‘Hi. How are you? Nice to see you. I know I haven’t been seen at court in two centuries. How are things? By the way, have you seen Kayleigh? Is Kayleigh here? How about now?’ and so on.”

“Ah,” I said, making a note to find him. 

I asked the Queen to relay my best wishes to the Princes upon their return and went to my family estates. Where I found the Celenean having tea with my mother. How convenient.

She greeted me warmly and we had a pleasant chat for a bit and enjoyed some refreshments. The Celenean waited patiently and after my mother and I had a chance to chat, suggested he and I take a walk.

We walked and talked. He was always consummately elven and polite, and spent just the right amount of time on small talk before discussing what brought him here. (Of course in this case “small talk” encompasses things like destroying primal demons and horrors from the Far Realms.)

When he was ready, he began. “Two things bring me here. The first is a concern. I do not wish to be rude and beg you will not see me as such. But I have noticed you spend a great deal of time off the plane. I was hoping to gain assurance that your thoughts remain with your people.”

I nodded. “I have spent time away. Truthfully, more time than I would like. I dislike these excursions and more of late. I am troubled when I spend time out of touch with home and often wonder if I am being deliberately drawn away as has been the case at least once already. The Queen has told me that Corellean provides, and that were it unsafe for me to leave, he would arrange a way for me to remain. However I believe that Corellean helps those who help themselves, and therefore I’ve made it my habit to try to make sure that Celene is safe before I depart for any length of time. Our lord is subtle, and his signs can be missed if one does not look. Such is one of the purposes of my visit today.”

He was pleased, even relieved at that answer. “I am glad to hear this. Your answer pleases me more than I might have hoped for. Which brings me to my next topic.”

“My lifespan is not infinite,” he began. “While I guard these woods and this nation as my adopted own, I fear that sometime I may succumb to any number of hazards or entities that may object to my presence. If something were to happen to me there would be no protection for Celene. I want to you to consider following in my lineage. Over time, I would share with you some of my life essence. You have as much time as you need to consider this option. It would require tutelage at my hand for more than a few years so that you can tap the life force of our nation but when you are finished, you would become as I am. Few even possess the personal force of will to achieve this but you are one. You have exceeded most others of your kind and you are a true Champion of your race.”

I considered his words as we walked in silence. He added “At first you would supplement my role as guardian, then eventually replace it. Three others of my kind are left on the Prime, each guarding an elven kingdom.”

Such a thing would take place over the course of centuries or millennia. After some more time walking in silence I said “I will reflect on this, as is appropriate for such a thing. It deserves careful consideration. I am not anxious to relinquish my mortal life quite yet, as there are things I have yet to do. But a thing such as you speak of would take a lifetime or longer.” 

He nodded.

I added “I will say that I’m likely to accept your offer.”

And he just smiled with a look that said he kiddingly thought I’d spent too much time around humans.


We assembled the next day, and Meltorannan opened the gate to the layer of the abyss where Vynoxa had been traced to. Heat blasted out of the portal and we were blinded by brilliant white and red light. Enchantments were worked to protect us from the local conditions and we entered the gate. Our boots crunched onto the sand of a brilliant red desert that stretched for miles in all directions. But instead of sand, the desert was made from discarded scabs and torn bloody skin that piled into blood red dunes. The heat was oppressive and hotter than any desert on the Prime. And we all felt a mild rage that, were it not for the abjurations, would have bubbled to the surface.

The outer planes had an unparalleled ability to be disgusting. This was compounded by the fact that magical means of flight were not functioning, necessitating actually walking on the scabs and skin.

Miles away, mountain ranges of black rock were visible in three directions. Past that, I could make out the edge of the demi-plane in one direction.

We had no idea which way to proceed, and basic divinations were being blocked. So we set out away from the demi-plane boundary, guessing our quarry would be somewhere in the middle. Bolo took the form of a red dragon and we began flying along towards the mountains. I could occasionally make out demons in the distance, either on the ground or in the sky, but they would all run and/or hide at first sight of us.

At one point we passed over fifty miles of desert where vrock were torturing people.

We finally reached the mountains, and beyond them was a ravine filled with a fine white sand. In the distance beyond it were more mountains and a sea. (Of what, I dared not speculate.)

We investigated the ravine briefly. The sand was powdery soft, and when touched it would seem to almost change or ripple away as if the force of your foot made a bigger impact than it actually had, but no dust was blown up by walking on it.

And then a scream pierced the ravine. From the mountains, a large creature jumped away from the rock, cutting itself on the sharp rock and leaving a trail of blood in the air. It was twelve feet tall and carried a massive battle axe. It wasn’t a common grade of demon and seemed barely intelligent. Scorch noted it as a Khasep-sa – a nearly unknown variety of demon.

We started attacking, and while the attacks landed, the creature seemed unperturbed. It absorbed my arrows into its body and healed at remarkable speed. It leaped at me faster than anything its size should, and nearly took my head off. Thankfully, Scorch had protected me with a simple low-grade armor spell that was empowered to transvalent proportions and that made the difference. [OOC: yes, epic mage armor.] We kept on attacking and the creature was being ripped apart but that did not diminish its furor.

Dravot spoke a familiar holy word, and the creature was blinded and deafened. Scorch then proceeded to slow it down. Even so the creature was re-assembling itself, and rather than fight it forever, we simply left it – a blinded, deafened, slowed hulk of flesh. By the time it regained its senses, we were gone, heading deeper into the abyss.

[OOC: I’ll just tell you now rather than in a later post: this thing was like a troll with the regeneration but the only thing that could hurt it was itself. In other words (as Aethramyr put it) “I’m gonna rip off your arm and beat you with the soggy end.” There was no reasonable way we’d ever figure that out, and once it was reduced to a quivering mass for a few rounds, we just said “enough”.]


----------



## Zad

*The Reckoning – Chapter 2*

OOC Notes:
Experience: for 25th level, 5,200. For 26th level, 3,600. For 27th level, 2,800. The spread is due to a couple characters not leveling up holding back for something. Readers, please see the end of this entry for more OOC notes. I don’t want to ruin the events of today’s adventure but there are important notes there.


This Week’s Adventure:
We again took to the air in what was essentially a random direction, heading southwest towards the lower end of the mountain range we were over. So far we’d spent a lot of time flying around but accomplished fairly little. Slowly we were all coming to the same realization, though the sheer oddity of it was making it slow to be said. Someone finally said it - 

“We need to ask for directions.”

This turned out to be more difficult than it sounded. Forget the fact that we would have to compel some kind of cooperation from a local resident and then hope they were being honest – we couldn’t even get close enough to any to begin to ask. Any creature of any intelligence at all would make itself very scarce when we got anywhere near it. Valanthe and I were considering using stealth to arrange a more personal conversation when we saw a flight of horned demons in the distance. They were of note in that they were not running away screaming in fear like most creatures we’d seen. They were watching us. And they were doing so from a brazenly close distance. They were within our striking range, and they clearly knew that. But some of them were being put out in front, probably to see what we would do. We attempted to get closer to contact them but they would simply back away, and we eventually continued on our way, unsatisfied.

There is an old adage: It’s better to be lucky than smart. It’s a philosophy we’ve proven sound again and again. And it held true today. In the far distance, I caught sight of a glint of something unusual. We veered in that direction and fifteen minutes later found ourselves nearing a battle.

At first we could just hear horns and start to see smoke. Then we could make out a city, its black minarets carved from the black rock of the mountains. The battle was raging at the city walls, with demonic forces on both sides. Surprisingly, most of the forces were not, technically, demonic. I expected demons, but most of what I saw was humanoids – fiendish orcs, ogres, pyrohydras, and an assortment of larger creatures. And of course lots of dretches so at least something was actually a demon. The defenders were of the same general makeup, but there were a good number of fiendish gnomes. 

The mere concept was difficult to grasp. But there they were. Gnomes. Fiendish ones. The notion boggled the mind.

The attackers were gaining ground, but there were devastating arcane blasts coming from one of the minarets, particularly targeting flying attackers. The attackers seemed to be under Graz’zt’s banner, but the defenders banner was unknown – a tiger’s head with jade eyes. Our initial hope that we had stumbled into Fraz’s stronghold faded quickly. Still, we hoped someone here would be able to provide us with some sense of direction.  We spotted a pair of marilith commanders in the back and descended towards them. Only moments later, a claw of shadow erupted from each of their chests and snapped their necks. It was irksome. It became apparent that anything that showed itself as a leader in the attackers was quickly and personally targeted.

A lash of arcane energy struck out from the minaret onto the battlefield, and a large gate rose up out of the ground. The doors blew open unleashing a howling wind, bitter cold and snow. The paraelemental plane of ice could be seen through the gate, and the attackers were being frozen in place (or to death) by the ice and sleet pouring out. 

So the question was do we join the fight or not. If Graz’zt was attacking, it was likely this place had something to do with Fraz, but we didn’t know what. There was some question as to whether we should help the defenders but that seemed to be unwise. Turning on Graz’zt would not be in our long-term interests here. It took some debate but we finally decided to get involved. The first order of business was to close that gate.

The gate was notable for the range – we’d never seen a gate opened from so far away. And it was quite large. But it was still magic, and Aethramyr was able to dispel it. The doors shut and the howl of the wind stopped as the attackers renewed their assault. But our intervention was not unnoticed. A rakshasa appeared on the field wearing jewel-encrusted chitinous armor. He cast something, and a two-foot pit of inky black came hurling towards Bolo. He was able to barely twist out of the way but it began circling back towards him. [OOC: Yes Virginia, action points can save your life.]

We were surprised at the arcane power of this being and moved quickly. I sent a volley of arrows towards him, expecting some defense to spring into being and send them back at me. I was somewhat surprised when that didn’t happen. All the arrows hit home, and the rakshasa exploded into a pile of snow and ice.

“Simulacrum. Wonder how many of those he has lying around. Obviously he’s projecting his full power through it though,” said Scorch dryly.

We shrugged collectively and moved through the attackers toward the wall. The attackers didn’t know what to make of us, but since we weren’t attacking *them*, they were willing to let us be. Bolo used an earthquake to breach the wall while I idly picked off anyone foolish enough to look out over the wall, and once the breach was made, the attackers swarmed into the city.

As the troops surged forward, we looked for anyone who seemed even remotely in charge. Despite the lack of high level commanders, the army was performing well and still being coordinated by some unseen means. It could just be the level of training and discipline that Graz’zt extracts from his minions. We did settle on a bone devil who was commanding a small platoon. Just as we started talking to him though, a new problem showed up.

Rain. Acid rain. Burning, caustic acid, with a surprising intensity. The power was enough to draw a nod from Scorch, who quipped “Transvalent. Powerful, but it can’t possibly last long at this intensity.” Bolo shifted from red dragon to black, and spread his wings over us so we could continue our conversation.

“Who’s city is this?” we asked.

“This is the city of Karugoza, one of Fraz’s chief lieutenants. They process slaves here for sale in other layers as a source of income. For a hundred gold, you can buy a human.” Once he mentioned it, we suddenly realized that dotted among the warring sides were escaped slaves fleeing for their lives. Many had been killed by the acid but there were plenty of others who found cover and resumed their flight once the rain stopped. 

Dravot bowed his head and uttered a brief prayer. The slaves all throughout the city were covered in a glowing yellow light, and when it faded, the slaves were gone, returned to the Prime.

The bone devil looked at him with unmasked exasperation. “There go the spoils of war,” he sighed. 

“So where will we find Fraz?” we asked.

“I have no idea. We’re here on a tactical mission – our objective is to make things costly for Fraz, not face him. Of course we had planned on adding some of that capital to our own war chest,” he frowned.

“Will this lieutenant know where Fraz is?” I asked.

“I would assume so,” the devil said. 

“Excellent! Let’s go ask him where Fraz is,” I said to the group.

Everyone nodded happily and we turned to enter the city. Not being one to repeat mistakes we asked over our shoulder “So where will we find him?”

The devil gestured “Well his simulacrum are all around, but you’ll know him when you find him – he’s the one immune to elemental effects. I would say that if you started destroying the palace down that road there, you’ll probably get some kind of reaction out of him.”

We smiled at that, and thanked him and went on our way. I’m quite sure he had no idea what to make of us.

The palace was easy enough to find. And it was really no stronger than the walls of the city. An earthquake collapsed on corner, and the “reaction” wasn’t far behind. Another armored rakshasha appeared, and it quickly met the same fate as the first one. Then another, which was also quickly eliminated.

Then a massive door to the inner palace creaked open, and a huge meaty hand appeared. In it was a gnome. 

Yes, a fiendish gnome.

The hand flung the gnome in our general direction. Bolo, whether overcome by instinct or just unsure of the threat, snapped up the gnome in his draconic jaws. 

“Wait a second,” said Aethramyr. “Why a gnome?”

The hand reappeared, with another gnome. It flung this one towards us as well. Curiosity overcame us, and we just watched as the gnome flew in a high arc, then smashed into the ground and rolled within a few paces of us. An excellent shot really, leading me to conclude that perhaps this kind of thing was practiced around here.

The gnome in question rolled over slowly and with great effort, and groaned. “My legs. I can’t feel my legs.” Then he whimpered a bit. 

We just looked at him, puzzled.

“Ugh. Oh…. This hurts. Ok. Wait. Just a second. Almost…” and he groaned and turned towards us. “Ok. There. Now, WHAT DO YOU WANT?” he said with a sob at the end.

Ah. A messenger. Excellent. “We want to know where Fraz is,” Valanthe said. “If your master tells us, we will go away. If not, we will continue to cause havoc here, and probably kill him.”

“Oh. Ok. Well… oh no.” He had a sudden realization, then steeled himself. “Ok. I’m ready. Throw me back.”

Dravot, either out of charity or because he wasn’t sure the gnome would survive the return trip, healed the gnome a bit. Then Bolo picked him up in a claw and flung him back to the door. Unseen to those inside, Valanthe followed the gnome, as he crawled and scraped his way back in the door while the meaty hand held it open.

Inside she saw some ogres, a ready supply of more gnomes, and two rakshasa. They looked at the gnome with contempt as he tried to crawl towards them then collapsed. One looked up “I have retrieved the information from his mind. They seek Fraz Erb Luu.”

The other rakshasa nodded. “They could have said so sooner. They killed three of the master’s simulacrum. The first was expected, the second considered. The third one was just rude.” The other one nodded in agreement. 

“Are we alone?” the first asked.

“Yes. I am sure of it. The master is very concerned about their assassin. But she is not here. I am sure of it.”

Valanthe suppressed a giggle. She observed one of the cats have a mental conference with some unseen third party, then he spoke. “The Rajah has made his decision. I shall go speak with them. Should they decide to be… rude, and it’s quite possible they will, it falls to you to deliver a message using less dignified means,” he said, looking at the gnome.

“Oh god not again,” the gnome squeaked.

The ogre opened the door and Valanthe followed the rakshasa out. His paws were raised as he approached us. We waved him closer.

“My master, the Hollow Rajah bids me speak with you. According to the tool you sent back to us, you seek the location of Fraz Erb Luu. Is this true?”

“Yes it is,” said Dravot.

“Clearly you understand the difficult position of my master should you fail to destroy Fraz Erb Luu. His situation will become more tenuous. Already this has been costly. We will have to abandon this city. I know you don’t really care. Your assassin’s knife is probably at my master’s throat even as we speak. Your magekiller is well known to our kind.”

They were very scared of Valanthe. Not that this was unwise but it seemed particularly focused.

I said “The way I see it, your master has two choices. He can tell us what we want to know, and risk problems in the future if we fail, or he can refuse, and guarantee the attention of our assassin right now.”

Dravot had a keen observation. “Wisdom suggests that you should tell us yourself, so that your master can deny it later if need be.”

The rakshasa nodded, surprised at the guile from a mere human. “You are wise to appreciate the subtleties of the situation. Very well. Which Fraz Erb Luu do you seek?

We looked at him blankly. Because we didn’t know.

“Erm, both?”

He nodded, unsurprised at our unfeigned ignorance. “You can find the Enraged Fraz Erb Luu in the city of Zoragmelok, down river from this city. The other, more refined Fraz Erb Luu is in the Great Temple of Krantis, a thousand miles west of Zoragmelok, where his cultists dwell.” 

“Thank you,” I smiled. And we turned around and left. Valanthe couldn’t resist brushing the flat of her blade against the back of the raksasha’s neck before withdrawing.

Scorch has heard of Zoragmelok – full of horrific things and illusions of entire neighborhoods. That Fraz was certainly much closer and therefore the obvious choice.

I hate obvious choices. So did everyone else. There was no disagreement – we set out for the Great Temple. 

The Great Temple was over 1,500 miles away. Even at dragon speeds, it was taking quite a while. Bolo’s shapechange spell was due to run out soon, and so he and Scorch switched places and we continued on with Scorch as the dragon. There was some grumbling at the notion of doing such manual labor but there was no help for it so he acquiesced.

It took hours to get there, and on the way we saw an ocean of some kind. And it wasn’t even blood, or pus or anything disgusting. Eventually we started flying over dense jungle, and that slowly gave way to signs of scattered temple structures under the canopy. On a plateau was a huge central dome. And then we saw another battle in the jungle. This one was less focused on physical violence and more concentrated on arcane exchanges. After studying it for a while, I determined there were actually two armies attacking from opposite sides. That more than the banners said it was Demagorgon’s forces. Both armies were covering ground fast and were almost racing to get to the central dome first. 

Fortunately they weren’t faster than us. We began casting spells as we grew closer and then Scorch dove hard on the dome and smashed through. It was unsubtle but we saw little point in sneaking about.

The interior was nearly covered in cultists and their sacrifice victims. Some grand ceremony was underway and it was obviously complex. Most of the sacrifices were already dead. At the center of the dome was Fraz, standing over an altar with Vynoxa bound on it. He had a dagger in one hand and the theerpart in the other. 

He looked up with genuine surprise. “Er, I wasn’t expecting you for a while. This could have been timed better. You were supposed to kill “me” first.” He pointed in the general direction we had come, his meaning clear. “This is really inconvenient. I don’t suppose you could come back later? Say in about an hour? Thanks! Oh and if you could destroy some of those attacking demons on your way out, that’d be great.”

We didn’t really need to answer that, but I did. “We’ve been following your plans for so long that I think you can see your way clear to forgiving us this one deviation.”

Fraz sighed heavily “Oh well.” Fraz shuddered and grew six feet, dropping the dagger that was now a small needle. He now looked more like his other self rather than what we had been used to seeing. And the battle began.

I fired the first volley, then Dravot opened by disenchanting Fraz. Aethramyr closed in and did what he does best. Fraz was now bleeding from deep wounds and it was a fine start. Scorch tried to make Fraz dance, and Fraz obligingly started shuffling his feet a little bit before stopping abruptly and winking at Scorch and shaking his head. By then Valanthe had come in behind Fraz and opened up a few gashes of her own which were joined by a second volley of arrows from me.

Fraz hissed at the pounding and lashed out at blinding speed. He slashed at Aethramyr, trying to disenchant Shatterspike (which failed) while disenchanting me with a quickened spell. It removed most of my own spells but those cast by Scorch and Dravot were intact. 

Fraz was thinking fast and acting faster but he was without support and clearly unprepared for us. Aethramyr was building up to his full fury and smote the demon prince several times. [OOC note: Aethramyr was pacing himself and didn’t do a full suite of smites. He did 385 which is not a record but still quite respectable. I’ll note here that everyone was making full use of the action points we were gifted, enhancing rolls and so on. Aethramyr and I both invoked our hero ability and had +10 on all stats which had a potent impact.] 

Valanthe moved in again, and Shadowcut struck deep. There was a sudden popping and Fraz’s body burst outward, echoed by a blue ripple of magic that tried to disenchant everything it touched. As it went, the very plane itself shuddered, and began reverting back to the white sandstuff that was the primal matter of the abyss. The disenchantment passed over some areas where powerful beings held the local area intact, but for the most part it blasted outward to beyond even my range of vision.

As abrupt as the physical change was, there were other changes just as potent. The seething rage scratching at the edge of our minds was gone. The blocks on teleportation and flight were lifted. When we came here, I was convince we’d have to weed through layers of deception until the actual Fraz was dead, and there was nothing that would convince me that we had killed the actual one. But I had to admit, the plane had spoken. It was no longer under Fraz’s control, and this more than anything made me think we had succeeded.

“That’s it?” I asked. “That can’t be it.” Still I couldn’t deny the evidence around me. If it was a ruse, it was a masterful one. Even I was becoming convinced.

The theerpart dropped quietly to the ground. The sand in the area began turning black and vile. We isolated it in a container, but not without a disturbing discovery. The theerpart – an object that was immune to all manner of things and magic – had been altered. There were tiny cracks where none had been. Minute isometril seals had been set into the stone with seals of Fraz, Orcus and Hextor. And we were sure that Vynoxa’s sacrifice would have injected her soul into the stone, to alter it in some way. The consequences of that alteration were unknown but we were sure it was something that would be most undesirable. Vynoxa was likely still bound to this ritual, and were she to be killed, it would still have disastrous effects. Scorch put her into stasis, and stashed her in his magic chest. She would have to be protected for now until we could undo the taint on the theerparts.

Dravot was the first to make the observation. “If the plane is no longer held by Fraz’s will, then the other Fraz must be destroyed as well.”

Bolo and Scorch agreed. But where was the staff? Oh no…

Since there were fewer restrictions, we were able to bring more tools to bear and faster transportation. Scrying and teleportation quickly brought us to Zoragmelok. Or more properly, the site of Zoragmelok. The city was gone – nothing but white sand remained, except for a black staff shaped like a twisted human in agony or supplication. It was likely that every remaining demonic army on the plane was racing here to find this staff. Seeking to avoid that confrontation, and since we had no other business here, we decided that it was time to be going.

Scorch opened a gate and we went to the Prime. The journey was like pushing through a torrent of a freezing river. We finally appeared, and we were surrounded.

Around us were six inevitables. Each one had a poleaxe leveled at us. Behind each inevitable were two judges, but they were different. Each had a similar poleaxe rather than a staff. 

There is much to be said for being fast to react. It can, often, make the difference between life and death. Eventually one becomes so fast that rather than reacting immediately, you have the luxury of waiting, knowing you can still act quickly enough to save your life. So it was here. The last time we encountered inevitables, they tried to kill us, but rather than attack, we just twitched slightly and waited. It was only a fraction of a second before the axes were raised and pointed away from us, and for most people it would have been no time at all. But we were not most people, and I think we might have destroyed half of them before the axes were raised had we acted.

The inevitables and judges moved aside and we saw the Gambler who was walking purposefully towards us, his hand extended. “I’ll be taking that,” he said, moving towards Fraz’s staff.

I stepped in front of him, offended and determined. “And what if we do not chose to give it to you?”

There was a quick mental exchange on our link, questioning why I was doing this. Valanthe quickly said “I’d like to hear the answer to that question too.” I wasn’t the only one who was slightly offended.

The Gambler stopped, and lowered his hand, and his expression softened. “I’m sorry,” he apologized genuinely. “May I have the staff please?” 

“Better,” I said. “What do you intend to do with it?”

His patience held firm, which was a good thing. If these beings were going to ask for our help, they were going to be polite about it. I, for one, was not going to be treated like an underling. It’s an offensive thing in elven society to ask for help and then not appreciate it. “We will destroy it. I give you my word that within a minute of taking it, it will be destroyed.”

“A fine answer,” I said, and stepped aside.

“And what about a little… compensation?” Valanthe asked. Old habits die hard.

The Gambler was unperturbed, and knowing Valanthe as he does I would have been surprised had he been. “The compensation is freedom from reprisals from other demon lords.”

Valanthe shrugged, that not being quite what she was hoping for. We each seek rewards and only the manner of compensation differs. I insist on some courtesy and gratitude. Valanthe prefers thanks she can spend. I certainly won’t fault her for that.

“You have secured Vynoxa?” the Gambler asked. Scorch nodded. “Good. Do not kill her. She is still linked to the theerpart and they are all corrupted. It would be bad. We will begin work on repairing the parts but in the meantime she must not be harmed.”

“I’ll make sure she is out of circulation for a while,” Scorch shrugged.

“If you hadn’t guessed already, you should know that the rules have now changed. Thanks to the new cooperation of a certain diety who has generally not been speaking to us until recently,” the Gambler emphasized his words at Scorch making it clear that Boccob was the god in question. Scorch was indifferent – Boccob may hold sway over magic and mages but mages, and Scorch in particular, were not the worshipping type. “The interdiction has been strengthened. Loopholes have been closed. Meltorannan has been given freer reign to enforce violations.”

The consequences of the new accord were already apparent. Hopefully it would cut down on some of the problems with the first interdiction. 

“Well, what about Vynoxa then?” Scorch asked. 

She was a clear violation, but one that they were willing to tolerate. (The mere fact that they were capable of making exceptions now was noteworthy.) The Gambler said quietly “Bury her. Bury her deep. Then bury the shovel. Make sure she’s not found.”

Scorch nodded. He’d make sure there was no way to find her until we were ready.

“We have a further request if you’re interested,” the Gambler said, remembering to ask. “Given the new cooperation of A CERTAIN DEITY we can now remove the major issue that has troubled us. This deity has finally been convinced Orcus is part of the problem and in two weeks we will now wipe Rauxes clean.” His eyes glowed slightly at the thought of removing this thorn in the side. 

“We could send a human army. Or we could ask you.”

More OOC Notes:
We are approaching the endgame. The Savage Sword of Meepo’s To-Do List ™ has been growing shorter and this week we saw the elimination of a major item. It is Wizardru’s expectation that the duration of the campaign is on the order of a handful of sessions. I mention this here so that the readers can set their expectations and understand the scope of the events taking place. The end is near please do not be sad. Yes, we are all slightly saddened, but this campaign has been running for around five and a half years, and I believe is the most successful campaign that any of us have ever had the pleasure of being in. I hope you enjoy the final installments as much as we will enjoy playing them. And we will continue to play in existing other campaigns as well as a new one.


----------



## Zad

*Interlude*

*Interlude*

I still wasn’t sure what to make of the entire trip to the Abyss. On one hand, it seemed too easy and I was still unwilling to believe that we had actually vanquished Fraz. Even, so, it seemed to be true. It wasn’t as if we woke up one morning and went – the events today were the culmination of years of circumstances and were executed to perfection by what I was beginning to realize was one of the most powerful tactical forces on the Prime. Were we more powerful than gods? No, certainly not (well except for one of us). But we were also not as limited as they were. The gods viewed us as allies, not lackeys; The Gambler’s reaction showed me that. And so we did what we were well suited to do.

Even though the trip was short, I had much time while flying over endless desert to consider the Celenian’s offer. Since the attack on Rauxes would not begin for two weeks, I had plenty of time to return home and consider it further. Truthfully, I only had one question left.

I arrived at the family estates and was happy to see my father had returned, meaning the armies had returned as well. They were glad to see me back safe and it was a happy homecoming. We enjoyed some tea and talked a while and I reassured them I was safe.

“So your mother said you were gone again on something important,” my father tried to ask casually.

“Yes, I was. Fortunately it went well and I’m back,” I answered.

“She didn’t have a chance to give me the details though,” he prodded.

“That would be because I didn’t give the details to her.” I turned to her and said “I didn’t want to worry you overmuch.”

After a few moments of silence my father gave in. “So what were you doing?”

“You won’t believe me,” I said over my cup.

“Of course we will dear,” my mother said, surprised, my father nodding.

But they wouldn’t. “You know of Fraz Erb’Luu, the demon prince of deception?” They nodded they did. “We went to destroy him in his lair on the Abyss.”

Silence followed. After several long moments I said quietly “I told you.”

The reaction on my father’s face was easy to read. He knew we were powerful but he had no idea we had reached this kind of height. Eventually his more tactical mind engaged. “I don’t think you did. You killed something and Fraz wanted you to believe it was him, but he escaped. It was a deception.”

I smiled. “This is what I was prepared for as well. There was little that would convince me his fall was genuine. But upon his death, the entire plane fell from his control and reverted to the primal matter of the abyss. This, and the recovery of his staff, convinced me.”

They didn’t entirely follow, not being very familiar with planar travel. But they accepted it, even if they didn’t understand what it meant for their daughter.

I left them to ponder it. “If you’ll excuse me, I have someone else to pay a call on now that the army has returned.”

I took my time getting to the palace since there wasn’t a rush. It was more crowded and busy than it had been in recent weeks but I had no trouble being seen. I found the Queen with the two Princes in the library-turned-war room.

“Your Majesty, your Highnesses,” I bowed.

The Queen was smiling warmly as she bid me rise. Aran’gel had a small but happy grin. Melf just seemed curious.

I informed them briefly of the demise of the demon prince. The Queen was unsurprised but the Princes were a bit more baffled.

“But this was not my purpose in coming. If I might impose upon you and steal away your son, Your Majesty? Surely his business with You can be done later?” I asked. 

The Queen had no objections and neither did Aran’gel. Melf said nothing, but he was appraising me with a new eye.

Aran’gel and I spent the afternoon and evening together catching up. It was very pleasant and very relaxing. In many ways it was like reconnecting with home. In the morning he asked “So how long will this go on for you?”

“I’m not sure. Not long now I think. There are but a few more things that need tending too. Orcus and Rauxes is the first and that will be in a fortnight. Until then, I need to pay a visit to the Celenean.”

He looked disappointed – he was hoping I’d be around for the two weeks. 

I tried to reassure him. “I’m sorry my love but this visit could have a deep impact on Celene’s future, as well as my own, and likely yours as well.”

We parted and I returned to the field where I had first met the Celenean. I found him there meditating, waiting for me.

“Good morning,” I said. “Care for a pastry?”

He took the offered breakfast and we sat down, exchanging pleasantries. When he was ready, he asked the question. “I’m surprised to see you again so soon. I thought you might take some years to decide.”

I shrugged. “And I might still. But as has been observed, I’ve been too long among humans. I have one question and it will answer much for me.”

He nodded. “Ask.”

“If I accept this mantle and undertake this change, will I still be able to have children?” I waited for his answer, surprised at how tense I was.

He only smiled slightly. “Yes, you will. They will be born as elves of course, not as I am and you would be.”

I released the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Very well then. I have two weeks until a war begins. Shall we begin?”

He was almost offended. “Two weeks? This is no time at all. It will take centuries. You will learn nothing in this time,” he said dismissively.

“The journey across Celene begins with a single step,” I replied. He grumbled but ultimately we began.

--------------------------------------------

It has been nearly the full two weeks and I must join the others for the attack on Rauxes soon. My progress has been… interesting. Though the Celenean would say “remarkable”, “unprecedented” and frequently “impossible”.

We had just concluded meditating and he was looking at me perplexed. I raised my eyebrows in question and he threw up his hands. “I simply cannot fathom this. What you have learned in weeks should have taken as many centuries. I am concerned for this but it is what it is.”

I shrugged. “I think perhaps I was simply ready. Perhaps even over-ready. There is still centuries of learning, but I have started to understand more than I had expected in this time. But now is a time of war. It’s far past time that the undead legions were wiped off the Prime.”

“What you have learned should help. Return to me at your leisure, though you have seen much of the path now and can walk far on your own.”

“Thank you for all your gifts. I shall try to use them well.” I turned to go but he stopped me.

“Before you go off to war, you might want to fix your hair,” he said casually.

“My what?” It was only then that I noticed my hair had turned from black to snowy white, like his. “Oh,” I said, and changed it back to its former color. “Perhaps I’ll leave it white in a few centuries” I smiled.

He waved and I left to visit Aran’gel one more time before going to war.


----------



## Zad

*The Reckoning - Chapter 3*

*The Reckoning – Chapter 3*

OOC Notes:
Exp is 8,000 for 25th, 6,350 for 26th, 4,350 for 27th.


This Week’s Adventure:
We gathered ourselves at Ru’un Khazai on the appointed day as had been agreed. Meltorannan appeared and told us the general battle plan; the attack would start in six hours. A massive influx of power from the Judges would wrench Rauxes back to the Prime completely. There will likely be a massive shockwave and the effort will weaken the Judges for several hours. The weakened Judges will still be able to deal with the general fiendish population, but will not be able to vanquish any powerful creatures. The roads from Rauxes will defended by a force of paladins to the north and by a group of 5 score of Dravot’s knight-followers to the west. We will come up the south road, and do what we do well.

We transported to the scene, and I could see in the ethereal Judges spread along the border of a shimmering haze that defined the edge of Orcus’ influence. Within the realm, it was dark, almost dusk, but I could see the black walls of Rauxes in the distance. 

As one, the Judges raised their halberds and there was a crackling sound. Then Inevitables began appearing around the perimeter and they added their power to the assault. You could feel the building of a tremendeous power, as if it was slowly drawing in air for a massive effort. Then after a pause, the energy was released. The ground vibrated and the air shuddered. The haze began withdrawing slowly, forced back by divine decree. The frontier moved slowly – mere inches at a time, but it was accelerating. We watched and waited patiently. As the border retreated, zombies began clawing their way out of shallow graves and the land shuddered in revulsion at what it had become.

It was done, or at least it had begun. The Judges were weakened, and it was time for us to do our part. We advanced. 

We took our time about it, not knowing what defenses were waiting for us. One thing was sure – Orcus knew we were coming, and therefore we should not underestimate what might be waiting for us. Bolo had conjured a small army of elementals and shamblers we would use as a skirmishing force but Valanthe was the one to take the lead, not them. Our caution was shown correct when Valanthe identified a series of intensified death traps so powerful they made us wonder who might have set them. We skirted around them and continued towards the city.

The city proper was coated in a wall of inky black shadow. We considered various means of going around it or through it, and Bolo began digging a tunnel underneath it. To the northeast, there were two large obelisks flanking a half-buried pyramid. Some kind of activity was happening there as there were swirls of sand churning and coalescing – likely some kind of defense being raised.

Scorch, having used an enchantment to warn him of danger, called out “Something coming!” and leapt aside. Out of the ground exploded a twisted monstrosity. It wasn’t overly large, and looked like a human statue made of wax and half melted, save that it was flesh. It floated off the ground, an umbilical cord trailing it down the hole it had left. Squirming out of the hole were after it were five black worms – Nightcrawlers. 

The nightcrawlers began shrieking and wailing but it had no impact – we were warded against their cry. The twisted creature’s umbilical moved like lightning and lashed at me but I was able to narrowly avoid it, thanks to the powerful armor spell Scorch had cast on me. If it hadn’t been for that, it may have snapped me in two, Celenean or not.

The nightcrawlers were a very powerful undead creation, but Dravot was still Dravot; he destroyed three of them, and we began our counterattack.

The fight was short, brutal, and horrifying. The creature itself – an atropal – was vicious and fast but I managed to stay one step ahead of it. Eventually it gave up on me and chased other prey but by that time it was too late – the damage it inflicted was minor, and we were able to overwhelm it.

Bolo resumed his digging while we kept watch. The weather began shifting unnaturally and in the distance I could hear a dull roar and see tornadoes forming. Silhouetted against the sky, I could see giants walking in the wind as if it wasn’t there. There was so much power in that storm it was surely transvalent and it was better avoided than braced. 

Bolo called that he had broken through to the undercity and we hustled into the tunnel before this storm could orient on us. 

Rauxes had a substantial undercity, and while we wandered into it via blind luck, it seemed like a good area to attack from. We began making our way through the tunnels and sewers towards the central dome of the city. At one intersection we saw two sentries in green steel armor. We silenced them before they were able to raise any alarm and moved past them. Further on we saw a set of worn stairs closed off by an iron gate. 

The appearance however was an illusion, and beneath there was a ward upon the stairs that carried the power of an artifact. Something of this power would certainly have a key or power source and that source would not be far away. And that’s as far as we got before we saw him.

A noise from the north alerted us he was coming. It was almost as if he was drunk the way he sloshed and staggered around. As he moved past one tunnel, a skeleton rose up out of the water behind him. It grabbed a rusted sword from under the water and stabbed him through the midsection and he shook and fell over into the slimy water. Then his hand reached out and grabbed the skeleton’s leg and pulled it down as his other hand reached up and crushed its skull. He got back up and staggered towards us. 

We concealed our presence through various means and waited fro him to get closer. He wore a hood and dark cloak and clothes that might have been very fine once. Red splotches consumed his white skin, showing he suffered from the Red Death – an old plague. I decided to risk a probe and opened my thoughts up to his mind.

I immediately recoiled. There were at least three conversations in his head, and one was simply screaming “NO NO NO” over and over. It was full of paranoid delusions and bizarre visions, including some few of us. I was stunned from the assault but he did not seem to notice my brush against his twisted mind.

He walked up to the gate and grasped the bars. Blue fire sprung into being all around him and he screamed and shook. It blew his arms off and he fell backward into the water, dead.

Or not quite. The arms began slowly rolling towards the rest of the body and his form gradually reformed. We revealed ourselves and watched.

He looked around with fear. “What?!? Who are you? Where have you been? I’ve been waiting and waiting. Are you all traitors? Are you?!? ARE YOU?!? You’re trying to betray me. You would. All of you.”

His ramblings continued in much the same vein. It was clear that he wouldn’t be saying anything helpful unless his mind and body were healed. But strangely, this proved impossible. Aethramyr was unable to cure his disease – the power would simply not come when he tried. And Dravot was not able to heal him either. He was forbidden.

Perhaps it was logic, or recognition, or divine inspiration, but Dravot realized it first. He said flatly “It’s Ivid.”

“That’s OVERKING Ivid!” the madman screamed. 

Ivid was, it seemed, cursed to this existence by the gods for his crimes. And he was quite mad. We attempted to talk to him or deceive him into helping us but there was no point – he was mad beyond use. But he was sane enough to try to use us.

“Go! Kill those in the temple. If you do, I will take you to the throne room and reward you. Look for the screaming pillar! Beware the Sand Kings though. They betrayed me too. Betrayers! All of them! And you.”

We didn’t actually discuss it. It was more that we just looked at each other and shrugged and set off towards the temple. We emerged from the undercity at the grand forum. Fortunately there were no sand kings but a sandstorm was raging to the south, where we had been. Most of the architecture was destroyed and the city was nearly a total ruin. Dravot pointed out that most of that was done before the undead got here – Ivid’s madness was severe and there were times when fiends openly walked the streets and dozens were killed daily on suspicion of treason. In the square was a sixty foot pillar of black rock. When someone was declared a traitor, their face was pressed to the rock and it would steal their soul. Their face would appear on the surface of the pillar with their soul bound within. This was the Screaming Pillar and was one of the few enduring signs of Ivid’s madness left.

The temple was behind it, a three story structure for the parts that weren’t collapsed. All manner of debris was piled up against the temple as if somehow trying to contain it. The windows had been filled in with magically shaped stone. Symbols of Bocoob were defaced or destroyed on the outer structure. Rows of undead servitors waited around the temple, weapons at the ready. Over the roof was a wall of force. 

But the temple was not the most pressing issue. Shortly after we emerged into the square, there was a hellish roar to the north. A dark shadowy form spread its wings and took to the sky, slowly banking southward. It was a red dragon and I could make out a steel plate over its chest. Even as I said the word, Bolo felt the tingle wash through him, signaling the presence of his ancestor.

“Ashardalon.”


----------



## Zad

*The Reckoning – Chapter 4*

OOC Notes:
Exp later. Not that it matters much now. Time waits for no man, but he hesitates around Chuck Norris.

This Week’s Adventure:
The red banked upward, then did a wingover and came towards us. A message resonated in my mind.

May I approach? I would speak with you.

Better than I was hoping for. I invited him closer, and he flew towards us. At a certain point, he simply stopped flapping his massive wings and his bulk plummeted on top of some buildings, flattening them utterly. He was still several hundred feet away, his caution and survival instincts preventing him from getting too close, but from here I could see the metal plate that had been bolted into his flesh over his heart. Scales and flesh partially covered it but it was still not wholly accepted. The wyrm was old – one of the oldest short of Lord Gelban and, tragically, the Silverring. But unlike them, Ashardalon bore the scars of his years – his wings were rent in places, and he had scars and rotted flesh in places. One of his eyes was partially blinded and there was some sort of crystal over it, grafted on. I thought it was some sort of psi-crystal but Scorch believed it was a receptacle of a soul font.

Ashardalon’s neck twisted this way and that as he surveyed the lot of us. 

So you are the bringers of all this chaos. I am impressed. It was clearly not something he said often.  Those of us that were protected from mental contact did not hear this, but those that were not smiled slightly.

“A kind thing to say,” I replied. “And what brings you before us?”

Curiousity mostly, he said, and strangely I believed him in part. I wanted to see the ones who have fouled so many plans and killed so many arrogant fools.

Bolo said “I’m surprised to see you here. I expected you would take refuge somewhere else.”

Taking refuge? You may describe it that way if you desire. Ashardalon attempted to sound dismissive of Bolo but it was clear he was watching Bolo very carefully and listening to every word. 

“Because the bargain must be kept?” Bolo asked. But he was far from correct.

I have no idea what that means, the wyrm said. Such ill conceived plans as any arch-demon would put together are of no concern to me.

“So then what brings you here?”

Curiousity, as I said. A force as powerful as yours does not simply wander in. This was more of a lie.

I shrugged and took a chance. “We’re here to negotiate for Orcus’ withdrawal from the Prime.” I was careful to say it in such a way that suggested we did not view a confrontation as inevitable.

Clearly Orcus is expecting you. I think he expects me to engage you.

And there it was. His statement was unassuming but it spoke volumes. Ashardalon was supposed to attack us, but he was hesitating. It was unclear if he truly feared Bolo, but he was obviously wary of him. At one point Bolo took a step casually forward and Ashardalon did his best to look casual while retreating the same distance. The wyrm may be a coward and an abomination but he was definitely interested in his own survival. 

It also seemed that the sand creatures were coming but from the looks of the moving storm, it would be a bit before they got here, so we decided to enter the temple.

We magic-ed our way into the temple past the wards and physical barriers. We appeared in a corridor that was intermittently strewn with bodies, apparently of Ivid’s personal guard. The halls were covered in thredbare carpet, and at various places were crudely made symbols of Boccob. (Upon closer inspection, it seems they were well made, defaced, and then crudely repaired.)

The building had definitely seen at least one major battle but there were no sign of the presumed defenders – just the attackers. We picked our way through the debris and came into a central hall and noted that the stairway to the third floor was sealed off by wards.

The wards were not weak but nor would they stand up long if we chose to breach them. Rather than doing it that way though we took another route. There were two sensors watching us, and we waved at them and knocked on the force barrier.

Inside the wall, an illusion of a half-elf emerged from around a corner. He wore frayed robes and a swept-back hat. 

“Do I know you?” he asked dryly.

“Oh I very much doubt it,” I said. We introduced ourselves. 

“Oh. It is you. We have heard of you, but did not realize you would be coming, er, well, now.” He granted us passage through the force wall. He asked Saint Dravot to be the last to pass through, lest the wards be overly disturbed.

The area beyond was better maintained. We passed through a long hallway into an old library. The real mage was there – he introduced himself as Rillikandren – along with several apprentices. We quickly explained how Ivid was wandering the sewers and wanted them dead, so we thought it might be wise to see what the fuss was about.

Rillikandren said “Orcus allows us to remain because it amuses him and he does not consider us a threat. As for Ivid, he sees threats everywhere. We predicted the fall of his house and the end of his reign. For this he hates us still. Tell me, does he still suffer?”

Dravot nodded, “Indeed he does.”

“Good,” was the reply. “But our purpose here is not related to Ivid. We are guardians of a sacred artifact.” He gestured to a dias and on it was a metal bowl. In the bowl was an orrery, the center of which was a great diamond. “We could not let The Orb of Sol fall into Orcus’ hands. Ivid desires it though – he seeks to use it and end his suffering. It may even only be temporary but he would crave that all the same. We have held this charge waiting for you.”

“For us?” Bolo asked.

“For you,” Rillikandren said, speaking directly to Dravot. “What you do with it is up to you.”

“Will it let us break the ward surrounding the central dome?” I asked.

“It should. But there is more you should know. Somewhere in the palace, Orcus has the Machine of Lum the Mad. This is what caused the accident that destroyed Rauxes in the first place. It was done by the former court mage, who now serves him as a two-headed lich.”

“Rillikandren, you have been here many years and observed much of the goings-on here, true?” I asked and he nodded. “Then perhaps you can explain something to me – why is Orcus here? What does he hope to gain?” This question had been troubling me. Once Rauxes had been drawn fully on to the Prime, I half-expected Orcus to retreat rather than risk the resources that fighting would consume. Surely he knew of Fraz’s fate by now and I did not think he would be anxious to risk the same.

“As best we can tell, he has access to a tremendous power source that he was in the process of corrupting. Several devices were made, and Orcus employed high powered servants and demon princes and at least one evil god to invest souls into them and then finally investing the soul of some kind of extremely powerful being to subvert the devices power. I do not know what they do, but they can control the power like a faucet.”

“A pipeline to Therizdun,” Scorch grumbled. Rillikandren’s eyebrows went up and Scorch sketched out the details.

Rillikandren stopped suddenly and said “I sense the Sand Kings are approaching.”

“Oh them. They’d be coming for us,” Aethramyr said. 

“They are not so much servants of Orcus as they are allies. Orcus is not the lord of *all* undead.”

“That raises a question then,” I said. “Can they be reasoned with?”

Rillikandren was unsure. “I am not sure. Their motives are unclear to me. They are however very powerful – they are capable of transvalent magic. It is my belief that they were once living creatures called LeShay – a powerful elf-being that I doubt you have ever heard of. But they shed that existence and are now hunefers of expansive size and power.”

I couldn’t help myself. I let my hair fall back to its now-natural white. “We are… familiar with LeShay.”

“I doubt they can be redeemed – they gave up their mortal essence for power. There was a great pact millennia ago, and they defied it.”

“Well, we had best deal with them then,” Aethramyr said. “Will you be safe here once we remove the artifact?”

“No,” Rillikandren said. “The wards will collapse without it. But we have been prepared for this day for some years. We will retreat as soon as you take possession of it.”

The mages quickly gathered up packs that had obviously been ready for this use for some time. Dravot picked up the Orb of Sol and put it gently into a pouch. Rillikandren then teleported his apprentices and himself away, presumably taking Scorch up on his offer of refuge within the Guild.

We left the building and found that the Sand Kings were waiting for us. There were five of them, one taller than the others. They were almost like an incredibly powerful mummy, dressed in funeral rags and wearing gold jewelry and such. The tall one stared at us, though his eye sockets were empty. Once we had fully emerged, he spoke.

“I sense LeShay among you.”

Scorch took a step away from me. 

“I sense LeShay among *you*,” I said casually.

“One of the weaklings has indoctrinated you in the ways of truth and power. They are bound to a foolish oath. One we renounced. We could show you ways to attain greater power that you would not waste serving these expiring creatures.”

I simply shook my head with disinterest. 

“As you like,” the sand king said.

“Do you mean to oppose us?” I asked him, turning to the matter at hand.

“We find ourselves in an… interesting position. And it all revolves around you,” he looked at Bolo.

“Me?” Bolo squeaked.

“You, dragonborn,” the king said. “He is afraid of you.”

Bolo relaxed slightly. “Ashardalon has a known weakness to his kin.”

Ashardalon shifted slightly but did nothing else. He was still where we had left him, several hundred feet away. The situation was becoming clear now – they were supposed to attack, but none of them wanted to risk being the first. And none of them believed their “allies” would aid them.

“Orcus did not want us to underestimate you,” the sand king said. “He wanted us all to strike at you as one. And I admit though you are powerful and fearsome, and you certainly could harm us, we could harm you. And though you posses many wonderous things, we are not certain we see a benefit in opposing you.”

“Neither do I,” I said frankly. “The benefit would be entirely Orcus’, but the risk would be entirely yours.”

The king nodded. “If Orcus was sent from this place, and believe me he could be, what benefit to us?”

Aethramy shrugged. “What good is he doing you right now?”

The king considered this. “His power lends us a certain air. He is not our master but he does provide us certain benefits. The loss of him… well your little flying freaks would be an inconvenience but they cannot drive us from our plane of origin.”

 “It is an odd situation, to be sure,” I said. We were talking casually as if in a market square. For my part I had no desire to provoke them and saw no benefit in fighting them.

“There is another. The lich. He is no ally of any of us but he has his hands on the Machine. If we were to leave, he might be emboldened to use it again. That would mean a loss of resources for us. And we are certainly not so short-sighted as to wish a being like Orcus to play with a faucet connected to a waterfall. Until Fraz, we saw no way to intervene. Even now we have no desire to support your actions, but rather to simply step aside and allow you to do what is necessary.”

His head cocked slightly and it was obvious that Ashardalon had contacted him and they were speaking telepathically. 

Suddenly another piece of the puzzle snapped into place. The gem in Ashardalon’s eye matched the gems in the sand king’s crown. Indeed there was a gem missing from his crown. This accounted for some of the leverage – and distrust – between them. It seemed that if Ashardalon attacked, or was attacked, they might also engage to protect their properly.

The choice was theirs and we waited. Eventually the king said “We shall stand aside and prepare for the attack that is sure to come.” But then our exchange was disrupted by an explosion in the distance, followed by what seemed like thousands of screams. 

The sand king smiled, if that is the right thing to say. “Very well played. Merely delaying us. Clever. Our agreement stands though.” And with that they walked away, sinking into the ground as they did.

The screams got louder and then suddenly cascaded over us like a waterfall. The undead in the area, previously standing idle, began marching down the street. I rose up over the buildings to see what had happened. The first thing I saw was that the Screaming Pillar had been broken and lay in pieces in the square. A small group of humanoids seemed to be moving quickly and spells and weapons were flying around. We weren’t sure who they were, but we knew a good thing when we saw it and went into the sewers again to find Orcus.

We returned to the warded gate, but the ward was gone – it must have been tied to the pillar. We went up into the dome without delay. The sewer entrance lead to a vast hallway. The place had seen better times – the recently dead and the long long dead shared the floor in equal measure. At the end of the hall were over three dozen men in fiendish armor. One of them yelled a command and they began to charge.

It was Scorch’s turn on the nuisance rotation, and he pondered his response.

The men screamed and ran towards us.

“Ah, Scorch,” Aethramyr said, “you might want to make up your mind.”

The men ran faster.

“Hm. Could do that… or maybe that…” Scorch muttered.

The men leveled their weapons.

“Scorch. Now,” Valanthe said impatiently.

The men drew closer.

“Oh fine,” Scorch finally sighed. And the spells started flying.

Half of them were dead, and a third injured. Aethramyr barked at them and those that could move cowered as far out of the way as they could manage.

We pressed forward. There were fiends or more powerful undead. We suspect the first few vampires sent word to the others not to get in the way. Finally we came to a big set of vaulted doors covered in bloody excrement. Bolo declared he was not touching them, but predictably they opened as we approached. In the befouled chamber beyond was Orcus, his grey skin covered in blood from fresh kills scattered at his feet. Blood rand down his stuck in the fur of his legs and behind him were two dozen death knights, including Kargoth. 

Dravot believed that here, in his place of power, Orcus was more god than demon prince.

As we walked down the bloody carpet, I called out with a half smile “Greetings, Lord Orcus. We have come to negotiate your withdrawal from the Prime.”

Perhaps it would come to a fight. But I still could not discern the Demon Prince’s motivations and hoped that perhaps he’d take a more prudent road.

His hatred was undisguised. “You think you’re so clever. Fine. This has become too costly since the sand kings turned on me. I had hoped you would kill some of them that we might be able to benefit from Ashardalon’s death. You may have this paltry human city back. You’ve destroyed enough of my plans as it is. So I give you this: the theerparts are not fully corrupted. That trinket you recovered from the temple can remove the corruption. You can draw the souls out of them.” 

We blinked in unfeigned surprise.

“You may wonder why I tell you this. Because unless you’re idiots, you’re suspicious.”

“Oh we’re suspicious,” Aethramyr quipped.

“Because if I’m going to lose, and Fraz has already lost, then I’ll be damned” (he smirked at his own little joke) “if Hextor is going to profit from our failures.”

Orcus was warming up to the topic. He had a lot on his mind it seemed. “The bargain always had more than one level. Such that fools were lead to believe it worked one way when ultimately it was entirely different. All the hundreds of poor souls that you’ve killed are trapped in the theerparts as we speak in exchange for a king’s ransom of elven souls. We facilitated devices and convinced some factions that this was Therizdun’s wish. We accessed Therizdun’s power under the guise of freeing him, but we had to crack the gates open to corrupt the devices. The Shadow King got out but we don’t really care.”

Orcus smirked at Valanthe. “How is the shadow realm these days? How many have died? The lucky ones I mean? I would deal with that situation if I were you. Without the parts corrupted, the crack still remains. The king may decide the time to move is now. And if we can’t have his power, why should anyone else, including him?”

I suppressed a laugh. Orcus was clearly very angry. At us, certainly, but more at the incompetence and betrayal that brought him to this juncture.

“Do what you want, mortals,” he spat. “Either way, someone will lose besides just me, which suits me fine. Now if you’ll excuse us…” There was a cracking noise and the fabric of reality tore open. Orcus turned, smashing some death knights out of the way with his rod and stepped through the gate to his lair on the Abyss. Beyond him, we could see a giant machine made of brass festooned with levers and cords and bright colored crystals. At a chair in front of it sat a lich bound by chains with spikes driven through is four eye sockets. The death knights followed him through the gate, with Kargoth the last. Before he went, he turned to us, and gave a salute. We nodded back at him and then he walked through and pulled a lever and the gate closed.

As we emerged from the palace, the streets were swarming with more men in fiend armor. Some of them were taking it off as quickly as they could while they ran. The undead had more discipline but were being destroyed by some burst of energy nearby. I could make out the same small group of humanoids nearby, fighting fiercely. They were staying close together inside protection spells. A dwarf pulled out a small cask and lit a fuse and threw it into a mass of undead.

Scorch, having a sense of irony, threw a fireball at that location. The detonation was all the more spectacular and one of the humans shrieked at the dwarf “WHAT DID YOU PUT IN THERE?!?”

Dravot stepped forward and destroyed undead in droves. We quickly cleared a path to the group and took the pressure off them. Surprisingly, it was Lord Gelban’s other adventuring party. They were exhausted and it seemed as if we’d gotten there just in time.

“What are you guys doing here?” Scorch asked.

“Well, Gelban sent us. Nobody scries us or anything… you know… so he figured we could slip in… and um… destroy stuff,” the dwarf answered.

Made sense. And it worked.

It took hours to clean up the chaos left behind by Orcus’ withdrawal. Most of the human army surrendered, and those that didn’t were quickly dispatched. We found over three thousand prisoners who were being kept as a food source. Dravot used his power to bring forth food and drink for them, since they were largely starving, and the feast brought them back to health and cured them of disease. 

Fortunately we were aided by the armies that had been holding the roads. Reports began trickling in of squads in the sewers encountering some kind of maddened creature that keeps rising after being killed. It took some convincing, and I suspect a sign from their god, but the paladins of the Theocracy finally understood that Ivid was being punished by the gods and they should leave him be.

As time passed Judges also began scouring the city for fiends and removing them. Before long we found Meltorannan and he seemed pleased enough. He told us that Ashardalon had left the plane but did not go to any of the outer planes. He had, perhaps, breached one of the protected places but they will investigate.

Meltorannan nodded. “The Prime is safe. You have ejected the most egregious of beings. Your enemies have been reduced, destroyed, or driven into hiding. You have won.”

I agreed, with a caveat. “That only leaves the Shadow King. He must be dealt with for the Prime to be safe.”

Meltorannan did not agree. “I don’t think you should worry about that. He can be dealt with in his own time. He poses no threat now…”

There was a sudden crack of thunder and a fissure of shadow appeared on Meltorannan’s chest. Instantly he was drawn into it, and disappeared. More disturbing, the fissure of shadow remained in the air where he stood. All around were other fissures where other Judges had felt the same power.

Scorch confirmed what we all suspected. “It’s a crack to the Shadow Plane. And it’s growing.” Indeed light was being pulled in from all around the cracks into the darkness.

We waited, and sure enough one of Ralishaz’s avatars appeared – Chance in this case. His appraisal was as succinct as it was accurate.

“Well this sucks.”

Scorch agreed. “It does. By my figuring, we have three days before the Prime and the Shadow Plane merge.”


----------



## Zad

*The Final Story*

OOC Notes:
Please refer to the end of this entry and/or following posts.

The Final Adventure:
A flash of light.  

The sound of breaking glass, echoed dozens of times over.  

The screams of people being struck down.  

The earth, rising up.  A sense of vertigo - falling, falling, falling.  There will be only one chance, one hope for success.  Scorch screams a final warning: “If we don’t hold, then it won’t work!  We have to hold it for 30 seconds!”  Blood is running out of his nostrils as he speaks, every word a labor.  Everything is Shadow Dark and Burning Bright and it’s all spinning, spinning, spinning, spinning…….Satori*.

A sudden stillness and calm. Voices speak.

“I don’t understand any of this,” Dravot said.

 “Yes you do. You’re just having trouble processing it. This is the difference between what you were and what you will become.”  The voice was male, and had an undertone of impatience or arrogance.

 “Lies. You cannot learn. You cannot become.”  This voice was hissing and reeked of unconcealed malice.

 “You can learn. You will become. I have faith in you.”  A man’s voice now, warm and nurturing, and familiar.

 “There are voices. You may hear voices. We cannot hear them.” 

 “What voices? What is he hearing?”  This voice was male, calm and subtle. 

 “It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is his choices. Our choices are the only things that distinguish us.”  Another man, but unfamiliar.

 “Agreed. But he’s already made his choice. That should have been the end of the process.”  A young male voice, stern and inflexible.

“What choice?!? When did I make it? You’re all talking but you’re not making any sense. I still don’t understand,” Dravot finally burst out.

 “There is no true choice. Chaos and Order are illusions. Truth is an illusion. YOU are an illusion.”

 “There are always choices. That’s the problem, and the solution.” 

 “Even Chaos is another kind of Order.”

 “We’re still here because it’s not just _his_ decision. It’s all their decisions. They’ve committed perhaps, but it’s not that simple.”

 “Nothing is that simple.” 

 “Your riddles confuse him. He needs direct answers and you all stand on ceremony. He stands at the crossroads, and you point in every direction.”  This was a woman’s voice, caring and yet annoyed.

 “We cannot agree on Truth. That is the problem. We advise him as our nature’s dictate. Even you.” 

 “I do not pretend to know Truth. That is for your kind to determine. I know nothing of the firmament. I am only of the real, the physical, the Now. I am his advocate in this.” 

“My advocate?” Dravot asked, still confused.

 “You have always stood by my side, all of you. Whenever I have been threatened, you stood for me. So now, I stand for you.” 

“But stand for me how? What is happening?” Dravot knew something large was at stake, but had no clarity on what it was.

 “Your Death. Their Death. ALL DEATH.”

 “Birth requires Sacrifice. All birth is a prelude to death. But all death is a prelude to new life.”

”You’re making a choice. Or you _will_. Or you _have_.”

“I can’t have done both. Which is it?”

”All three. You will chose, you have chosen, and you _are_ chosing right now. This is the change you need to understand – the fact that time is an illusion. I am permanent but you are not.”

”We all die. It’s close, now.”

“You’re talking as if any of this makes any sense. It doesn’t. You’re just talking in circles. None of this means anything to me.” 

 “That is because you lack _context_. Everything becomes an enigma without it. You _had_ it, but then you made a choice.”

 “And the choice changed the context. When you changed the context, the firm becomes the firmament.”

 “That’s the trick really. This particular choice allowed you to decide to never actually make the choice. It’s created a paradox.”

“A paradox? You’re saying that I chose to create a situation where I might not have made the choice? By making the choice itself?” Dravot at the same time felt he was close to understanding and yet still utterly without insight.

”Right. And because of that, the decision can be made again, or still made. It’s a loop. When you make the choice, you create the possibility to NOT have made the choice. That means you MAY not have made the choice…  and thus you get to make the choice.”

“But why? Why would that have happened when I made the choice?”

”Because of that particular choice. Every time _that_ choice is made, this happens. We’ve seen it many times before.”

”Many times. Sometimes for the better, other times for the worse.”

”If you make the wrong decision, it will be far far worse.” You could hear the smile in the entity’s voice at the thought of this.

”It’s not just any choice to make but that specific one that dictates your situation.”

“Are you saying this for every choice I make?”

”No. Just this specific one. By making it, you create the loop. By not making it, you allow someone else to dictate the answer.”

“This is going in circles. How do *I* get to make the choice?”

”Ah. For that, we need to go back to the beginnings. You need to understand the context. You need to understand _their_ choices, to better understand _yours_.

”And when we go back, we need to go back far. Before you existed in fact.”

“How does that tie into my choice?”

”Because every choice that is made is the sum of the other individual’s choices. If your father had been content with two sons, or your grandfather had not been content with only two sons… where would you be today? Would you even exist?”

”That’s the thing you have to understand. That’s part of the wisdom we’re trying to show you.”

”Enough talk for now. Mysteries are meant to be experienced, not spoken about. We must travel back.”

“Back where?”

”We are unstuck in time. You need to understand this. By making the choice, you gain great power and then you gain great liabilities. Vulnerabilities. To know the future is to appreciate that the _future_ knows _you_. The very act of _knowing_ the future _changes_ the future.”

“Wait. I think I remember, now,” Dravot struggled to recall, to comprehend. “I made a choice to… I chose to save the future, and thus I might have doomed it?”

”No. Therizdun has doomed it. But now that you know the future is doomed, you know you could save it, but since you know it is doomed, you have been fugued. Everything becomes ephemeral.”

“So why aren’t you all as confused as I am?”

”We’ve been doing this for a much longer time than you have.” 

“Doing what?”

”Saving the World, dear boy. Saving the World.” 

”The easiest way to explain this is to try and show you. Watch now.” 


*Satori – a sudden spiritual awakening or realization
---------------------------------------------------------------------

When the forest rose up against them, screaming in agony, they scarce knew what to do.  Many ran, though only a few had any hope of escape.  Throughout the village, strange tree and wooden abominations attacked.  The village leader, a druid named Mestarrin, made a final stand at the hill called Fortune’s Rocks.  There he retreated with the few he had saved so far, several elves and half-elves, among them his own wife and child.

_Dravot watched the scene unfold. He easily knew what the elves being slaughtered could not – their village was being attacked by Gulthias horrors and the attack was led by Taen the Clearcutt._

Mestarrin called out to the other elves, his voice shaking but trying to project strength. “These rocks are a sacred ring. If we can circle the ring three times, a fey spirit may come to our aid.” The elves needed no further order – they would all die if even one of their number could complete the ritual.

“I will stand here and attempt to hold them,” the druid said. Then he turned to his wife, their son in her arms “Stay near me, but not too near.” She only nodded.

Taen and her horrors pursued, but Taen at a more lazy pace. This village held no threats and she was content to sit back and watch for the most part. The fleeing elves had gone as far as they were going and were drawing weapons to make their stand. The elves steeled themselves even as they saw one of the twig blights leap forward and snap the head off one of their fellows with one bite.

Some of the elves began sprinting around the ring of rocks while others attempted to distract or stall the tree creatures, knowing it would cost them their lives. Mestarrin flung a small carved object at one of the larger tree creatures and a large tree immediately sprung up out of the earth under it. Taen merely shook her head at the simple-mindedness of this, and with a wave of her hand the tree shattered. Of course the falling tree and falling gulthite crashed down on another of her minions, smashing it to pieces. 

It was luck like this that favored the defenders for a time. The druid’s animal companion wolf and eagle managed to make a stand against the plant horrors and hold them back, along with a flaming sphere from the druid. The elven defenders alternated between running madly around the circle of standing stones and engaging the twig blights that got too close. When her forces thinned, Taen growled in annoyance and brought more out of the earth. They were able to easily slip under the crawling mass of vines and underbrush conjured by the druid and continue to hack at the defenders.

_Dravot watched. An elven child. A village destroyed by Taen. He was watching a scene from a century ago – the destruction of Aethramyr’s home._

With a final gasp, one of the elves managed to complete the third circle. Time stood still.

A tall elf appeared in the circle, the embodiment of all things elven. He spoke softly to the few elves left alive. 

”All those slain in this village will be avenged. Those of you still alive will soon come to my halls. I cannot save you, but I can save the child.” The elf took the child from his frozen mother’s arms and held him. ”This child will avenge your deaths and go on to do greater things. He is an instrument of a greater plan. As much as it pains me to allow it to happen, this is the only way it could be. He is the one who will drive the final blow to end a war that has gone on for centuries. When the time comes, he will remember this – what happened here today. It is his purpose.”

“He will remember you. And he will remember that it must be his blade that strikes the final blow.”

The elf faded away, and gracefully time resumed. Taen did not perceive the elf or the stoppage of time, but her patience had been exhausted. With a few profane words, she destroyed all life on the hilltop, animal and plant alike.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

That’s how things occurred, years before your birth. Even then we were working against the Shadow King, years before he existed. It is a delicate dance we perform. As delicate as the preparations you made two days ago when it became apparent that the final Shadow Conflict had begun.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Chance looked at the shadowy cracks that seeped darkness where the Judges had once been. “Well this sucks.”

Scorch agreed. “It does. By my figuring, we have three days before the Prime and the Shadow Plane merge.”

I was unsurprised. The universe had too fine a sense of irony to let Meltorannan’s statements go unchallenged. “Dravot and Aethramyr, you should retrieve the theerparts and cleanse them with the Orb of Sol. Scorch, Bolo, we must contact Boccob and learn the details of how to seal Therizdun back in his prison.”

I was surprised that Boccob made himself easily available and there were no riddles or mysteries to cut through. He explained the mechanics to Scorch and Bolo – the ritual itself was simple enough. But there was more to it of course.

”It is too late to address the problem here. You must go to the shadow plane and deal with the breach there. You must weaken or destroy the Shadow King before you will be able to close the prison. Go to the Spectral Citadel where the leak manifests itself. The plane of Shadow abuts the prison you see. Render him vulnerable, then use your energies against him.”

Sendings came pouring in from allies and not a few enemies. All of them were marshaling their troops and were ready to place them at our disposal. The metallic and the chromatic dragons were mustering flights to support us, as were all the major churches, the elves, and practically everyone I could think of. Scorch even contacted the Burning Skin, now the “Johnathan” of the Valley of the Mage who leapt at the chance to offer support and make peace with Scorch.

It took over a day for us to gather our strength for this battle. It was not possible to move such a large force directly to the shadow plane but we did establish a link of portals through Sigil. While we did this, Valanthe went to muster what aid she could on the other side.

She was able to slip onto the Shadow Plane and make her way to Sceadutine. At first the city looked as if it had been destroyed but as she got closer, she saw that it did still stand, though had recently paid a terrible price. The crystal defenses were either destroyed or laying inert on the ground. The walls were shattered in spots, and it seemed as though an army had driven into the heart of the city like a spike. But the city had not been obliterated – defenders still manned the walls, though they had the look of doomed men on them.

Valanthe learned that the Diamond Prince had been taken. An army unlike any they had faced before assaulted Sceadutine, driving itself deeper and deeper into the city. It seemed that their only quarry was the Prince and once they had him, they withdrew. The ranking Captain said that the Prince was moving up the tower to activate the crystal defenses – something only one of the royal family could do – when he was taken. 

The Captain showed the same doom as his men – without their Prince and their defenses, they were simply waiting to die. Valanthe told them what was at stake, and that only depressed them further. Valanthe was not about to abandon them however, and was suddenly determined to activate the crystal defenses. “It wouldn’t be the first time I had to convince magic that I was something I’m not.”

She ascended the central spire, which was broken off towards the top. Fortunately the remaining floors held the controls she needed. She approached them cautiously, unsure of the consequences of being rejected by the enchanted crystals. After careful examination, she calmed her mind and waved her hand over a group of nine crystals. The crystals pulsed once in response, then slowly began glowing brighter.

Valanthe was suspicious. “That was a little too easy.” Before she could think on it more, there was noise outside. The massive inert crystals that had crashed to the ground had begun humming and rising once more into the air. Once there, they began cracking and shattering into pieces – no, not pieces. Transforming. Each crystal unfurled wings and took the form of a crystal dragon. They ceased floating and began arcing through the air in graceful banks. One of them swooped towards the shattered half-tower where Valanthe stood watching. It hovered in the air and bowed its long neck.

“Princess, we are at your command.”

“I am glad, for our need is dire. But I am not your Princess. I have only deceived your magics. Will you help me defend the city and free your Princes?”

“We will aid you, for we must. You are the Shadow Princess, hidden on the Prime away from enemies. We shall obey.”

Valanthe was unfazed. I suspect she had wondered about this for a long time. “Guard the city until my return. Then we shall attack.”

The crystal dragon nodded once. “It shall be done.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Finally we were ready. Nearly every resource of the Prime had been placed at our disposal. I had been awake for nearly a day and a half coordinating the legions but we had run out of time. The time to attack was now.

The transition through Sigil went smoothly. The Lady of Pain, wisely I thought, raised no objections to such an army moving through her realm, even ignoring Dravot’s brief presence. Some things are not worth putting up a fight over. Soon our army was on the shadow plane and moving to the Spectral Citadel. Waiting for us was a large force of shadow creatures – demons and undead and all manner of wicked things. 

There was no hesitation, no negotiation, no parley. The two armies crashed into each other in a battle that would decide the fate of several planes and perhaps the universe. We joined the fight but held our greatest power back for what we knew would come. The Shadow King’s army was fearsome but not nearly so much as our forces and in a matter of hours the shadows were routed.

As they parted we could see the Spectral Citadel. It was a fortress made of pure Isometril. Around it, was a wasteland. Nothing lived, nothing moved. Bodies of all manner of creatures could be seen, but all were dead for no visible reason.

A squad of paladins from the Theocracy offered to take the vanguard position. They were protected from death magic and were prepared to lead the assault. Aethramyr nodded at their commander and the group moved in. They were protected, but not nearly enough. Not only did they die horribly as they approached the citadel, but their souls were pulled out screaming and sucked inside.

The power was staggering. Having seen it, Dravot understood now. This was divine power of the highest magnitude. It was not “simple” transvalent magic – there was no counter, no escape. It was absolute. Anything that approached would die.

We pondered it for a time, some of the finest minds from the arcane and divine working together to form a counter, but there seemed to be no flaw – it was absolute by nature.

Nature, however, thought otherwise. “Can it kill you if you’re undead?” Bolo wondered to himself. 

“Yes,” a voice said in his head. It was familiar.

“Who is that?” Bolo asked.

“Can’t say. That’d be breaking the rules, which I’m doing enough of as it is.” 

Bolo smiled to himself. Olidamarra. “So don’t stop now. You have an idea.”

“I do. You’ve died so many times already, what’s a few more?” the voice said.

Bolo shrugged and started walking, but the voice objected. “Not like that though.”

Bolo was confused, but he knew in his heart there was an answer. Nature had the key. He began casting the powerful spell that would allow him to change his shape utterly.

And this was all the prompting nature required. Green energy splayed out in all directions and Bolo’s form burst and grew.

Where the druid once was, now stood the Tarrasque. 

Bolo lurched forward, and as it entered the profane area, he took only a few steps before he collapsed and died.

And seconds later, he got up. For that is the nature of the Tarrasque. He took a few more steps, and died. And then a few more, and died. And again, and again, and again. Until finally he was at the wall of the Spectral Citadel. Once in contact with the mass of Isometril, he was protected from the death wave. He began ripping and destroying, shattering the walls of the citadel. The death wave was tied to the building itself, and as he destroyed it, the field was breached. A gap opened, and the army streamed forward.

Defenders were present but the undead were no match for the avenging forces that lead our assault. For us, the true target was the citadel itself. As more of it fell, the breach grew and more of the army streamed in. We were taking losses but we were killing ten for every one of us that fell, and we were pushing the defenders back.

Soon a report came to us – they were unable to enter a central chamber. Aethramyr put a hand on the commander’s shoulder. “This is for us to do. Where we must go, you cannot follow.”

Scorch frowned for a moment, then looked around and ultimately settled on the Burning Skin. “Take over command of the mages til I get back.” The Burning Skin was startled but nodded.

We came to the door in question and breached it. Inside was a grand hall with isometril columns and a marble isomeril floor. Rainbow light was playing off of several large crystals hanging in the air. Trapped within each was a human, unmoving. Each crystal was a different vitaesis – these were the prisons of the Shadow Princes.

I hesitated for a moment when I remembered that thanks to the Celenean, I probably had the power to release them. Sure enough, the magic worked and the Diamond Prince slid out of the crystal gently to the floor. He was physically well but his mind still reeled from the imprisonment. Each of the Princes was released in turn and escorted out of the hall. 

It was time.

From everywhere at once, the air filled with the sound of a droning whirlwind.  A dull roar at first, it builds in intensity, growing louder and more cacophonous with each moment.   The Spectral Citadel’s grand chamber seemed to become less distinct, with only the floor, the giant crystals and huge columns remaining.  The walls and ceiling disappeared, leaving only a vast emptiness in their wake.  The grand darkness was filled with a swirling vortex of ghostly chaos, the screams of the maddened and the tormented filling the air.  Billowing clouds of spirits fly in every direction, issuing forth cries of confusion and pain as their trajectories are twisted by the vortex, some pulled into while others are just flung back into chaos.  We were transfixed and unable to move.

At the center of the maelstrom was something spinning.  It took my eyes a moment to fully comprehend what it was.  Lashed to a huge loop, was a human-looking form, shadowy and indistinct.  Its hands and feet were bound to the great wheel, which was laced over and over again with some sort of web of delicate wire or wrappings.  The figure writhes and struggles, though whether from anger or pain, I could not say.  It was lit from behind by some great bright light, far distant.  As we watched, a shadow of sorts issued forth from the being.  

The shadow took on a life of it’s own, swirling into the maelstrom of chaos, spinning away from the bound figure on the loop.  It wound its way towards us like a snake.  It was composed of insects or tiny beings, their minute swarming forms crawling within.  As it drew nearer, I suddenly realized that it is not comprised of insects, but instead of bodies all clinging together in a shambling form, and a sense of the scale of what I was witnessing came to me.  The swirling mass of tormented bodies streaked toward the remnants of the grand chamber, the screams and cries of those within rising like a tide.  It smashed down like a waterfall onto the chamber floor with a wet slap, some of it’s bodies bursting like rotten fleshy balloons.

Even as I tried to find the will to move, I simply could not.  The horrible construct shifted and flowed, the bodies inside filled with naked and in many cases decaying bodies, constantly in motion into and out of the central mass.  It shuddered, and began to assume a physical shape, like a giant human body built from the dozens of bodies that cling to each other, even as they move.  But no ordinary bodies – I started to recognize individuals within the hape of the abomination.

In the right hand at the palm was Taen the Clearcut, her flesh scored by acid and flame, tearing at the bodies she twists next to from behind eyes filled with madness and horror.  At the jaw, was Sebastian the Bastard, his body half-skeletal from his dark pacts, his price now paid.  At the hip I saw the Red Lord, clawing for position, even with his eyes gouged out.  Where a foot might be, was the assassin Red Bone trying to claw her way free.  The evil orc druid of Vecna and Gulthias throttled each other, even as they try to crawl free of the construct’s chest.  On the right shoulder I even saw the flayed form of Fraz Urb’Luu, a unwitting pawn at last.  Around its mouth the Shadow Taker’s worms crawled in and out.

Two deep holes in its head sat as empty sockets for its eyes, with only a faint and indistinct red glow to indicate actual presence there.  The hole that passed for a mouth is simply a gaping maw of darkness into which some bodies and worms crawl in and out.  This then was the true form of the Shadow King, in all of his horror. This then, was the face of madness.  A strange noise issued forth from the tormented screaming of the souls that comprise it, and I realized it was a voice made up from dozens of voices speaking slightly out-of-concert with each other.

The ending of thousands of stories, all with the same bitter end.  Like them, you will be dragged down to HELL.  Like them, you will learn the meaning of madness.  Once my master is unleashed, all will fall to shadow and chaos.  You do not possess the instrumentality to assail me.  Strike me if you will, I cannot be hurt by the likes of you. 

We didn’t say anything. We didn’t need to. We attacked.

The Shadow King was a conglomeration of twisted beings and perhaps it was right that we could not assail it directly. But we could assault the creatures that composed it, and we did.

Light blasted forth from Dravot, and Gulthias and Redbone immediately fell into ash. Scorch, now knowing the nature of the ShadowTaker, attempted to disjoin the magics that held the wormlich together. Unfortunately the enchantments proved to strong and the attempt failed, though he felt he had been close. Aethramyr moved towards the right arm and sliced Taen the Clearcutt into pieces. Valanthe released the full power of Shadowcut on the Red Lord, and I fired a full volley of arrows at Fraz, each one enhanced by the most powerful spells I had.

The ShadowKing screamed and twisted as pieces of his body fell away. He spoke a profane word, we ignored it as it crashed on to us.

I continued to fire arrow after arrow into Fraz, and was joined by Valanthe. Aethramyr closed his eyes for a  moment and conjured a mirror from the dreaming. He heaved the mirror like a large disk and landed it between Therizdun and the unspeakable light source behind him. The ShadowKing screamed and shrank, the lack of light eroding the god’s shadow, and he collapsed to half his former size. 

Scorch, not content with his first effort, surprised us all, casually remarking “I wish that disjunction had worked on the ShadowTaker.”

And so it was. The worms flew off in every direction, smashed and burned from the terrible powers within the chamber.

Fraz was the only major creature left and it only took one more concentrated assault to destroy the former demon prince. The shadows remaining were clawing and scratching to stay together without the presence and substance of the more powerful beings. They desperately tried to cover a gaping hole in his chest, trying to conceal and protect a crystalline heart. 

This was our moment, and no word needed to be spoken. Five of us, as one, focused our power into Aethramyr, channeling the power of our Marks and our entire beings. As one, logic, spirit, nature, darkness, light, and metaphysical came together into the Paragon for a single strike to save the world.

Shatterspike hit the crystal heart, infused with all our power, even as it was destined to do. And the heart shattered.

A flash of light.  

The sound of breaking glass, echoed dozens of times over.  

The screams of people being struck down.  

The earth, rising up.  A sense of vertigo - falling, falling, falling.  There will be only one chance, one hope for success.  Scorch screams a final warning: “If we don’t hold, then it won’t work!  We have to hold it for 30 seconds!”  Blood is running out of his nostrils as he speaks, every word a labor.  Everything is Shadow Dark and Burning Bright and it’s all spinning, spinning, spinning, spinning……

And now, finally, Dravot understood. There was context.

The destruction of the Shadow King will… would… _did_ trigger the release of an overwhelming amount of divine energy. There was a choice to be made. The choice that the gods were advising him on. If the energy is released, the Shadow Plane will be destroyed, and possibly the Prime as well. The alternative is for Dravot to take this energy into himself, and in doing so become a full-fledged god. But by doing so he must sacrifice any vestiges of his mortal existence. The choice is not his alone. All of us have to chose. We must all accept. If we do, it may mean our own destruction as well. Our survival is unlikely.

Dravot, will you make the sacrifice?

“Yes.”

Bolo, will you make the sacrifice?

“Yes.”

Valanthe, will you make the sacrifice?

“Yes.”

Aethramyr, will you make the sacrifice?

“Yes.”

Kayleigh, will you make the sacrifice?

“Yes.”

Scorch, will you make the sacrifice?

“Feh.”



---------------------------------------------------------------------

Few people on the Prime ever understood what had happened.  Many, in fact, found themselves unable to even remember what had happened.  While what occurred was something of a scholarly fact, only those who were powerful enough or protected enough remained aware of the finale of the Shadow Conflict.  The gods had provided the servants of Gelban with a final boon – that of anonymity.

Of Aethramyr, little is known to those beyond the Lendore Isles.  After the Shadow King was defeated, it is said that the Paragon retired to resume the teachings of the Dreamer, that her followers might ever remain vigilant against the rise of nightmare.  Some say that when Shatterspike was sundered, he swore to never wield another blade.  Others claim he had it reforged, and used it to carve a new Rock of the Testing, which rests in the Dreamer’s Temple even now.  The Paragon maintains the Silvering Shrine, and it is rumored that he occasionally confers with the great wyrm’s spirit, lending sage advice to supplicants one day of each year, to commemorate the wyrm’s final days.  Sailors have been known to tell tales of the great Wolves of the Lendores, who answer directly to the Paragon, roaming the hills and always keeping a toothy vigil against evil.

Even more mysterious was the fate of Kayleigh Ladanna'al, so mysterious that many claimed there was more than one.  Some spoke of the Champion Consort herself, wife to the Second Prince and mother to the heirs to the throne of Celene.  Raven-haired and hot-tempered, many claim she could be often seen at court, indulging the Queen.  Others claimed to know of a different Kayleigh, the Celenian Reborn.  Appearing at times of great need with important advice and sometimes mystical help, the snow-tressed Leshay was said to appear whenever Celene was faced with great danger, a holy avenger and advisor to her people.  Where the truth may lie was never truly certain.

The druid Bolo is, of course, widely known.  The Skinwalker is known far and wide by reputation, if not by sight.  It is said that wherever malevolent creatures threaten nature with harm, he would soon appear.  Legend holds that the Blood of Dydd eventually learned of the whereabouts of the Ancient Wyrm, Ashardalon.  Hiding within the madness of the Rift Canyon, Bolo entered its horrible confines alone, dressed only in his humble druid’s robes.  For three days, the sounds of battle could be heard.  On the fourth day he returned, dragging Ashardalon’s head as a trophy.  It is said that he took it to the Land of Black Ice and entombed it in a frozen prison as a warning to those who would thwart the natural order.  From that day forward, he swore to swell the ranks of the druids once more, and it is said he has walked that path evermore, never resting for more than few days, except to return to his circle in Rhuun Kazai.

The name of Scorch is well known throughout the Flanaess as the most powerful wizard in a guild of powerful wizards.  That Scorch single-handedly revived the mages of the Flanaess into a new age of cooperation is the stuff of history books, though few truly understand how he managed it.  Little is known about him or his motives, something that the Guild Minister has worked laboriously to effect.  It is said that no spell may scry him, nor is there any divination that can reveal truths about him.  Some say this is the result of binding powerful planar beings; while others claim Scorch has the blessings of powerful gods to his name.  Still more think that Scorch is some sort of a myth.  It is most likely that Scorch himself was the source of this tale, as one thing all accounts agreed on is that Scorch generally wanted to be left alone.

Throughout the Flanaess, evil mages would go to sleep and have nightmares about the woman known only as Valanthe.  Each account of her sojourns painted a different picture of the mysterious thief, but all agreed on one thing: she had a passion for robbing wizards.  Tales imagined her as a demon, a being of shadow, a gloom or worse.  It was said she had taken a dragon for a lover and learned from him the secrets of their kind, making her all the more dangerous.  What she did and where she went, none could say, though at times it seemed that she was in several places at once, harassing the pompous and the powerful.  Tales say that she eventually returned to the Tomb of Horrors and cuckolded Acererak in his own lair, simply for the thrill of doing it.  If orphanages and hostels of Tritherion across the Flanaess woke up one morning to find lavish magical treasures on their doorsteps, helping them pay for their charitable works…none sought to question the origin of their funds.  The Horned Society, in particular, would find her to be a difficult problem that led them to ever more extreme and extravagant, and ultimately futile acts to belay her.  Tales say that the lived in fear of their lairs being laid bare by a thief in the night who could strike at any moment and leave no trace.  Whether or not these tales were true, it is a certainty that this was the way that Valanthe wanted it.

Finally, the ultimate fate of Dravot is the subject of canon throughout his churches about the Flanaess.  His holy see has risen to encompass the virtuous Shining Knights of Dravot, based out of Ekbir’s Towers of the Dawn and Dusk.  Temples devoted to him can be found throughout the lands, either on their own as chapels within Pelor’s great temples.  Some stories claim that Dravot separated his spirit into a separate vessel and became a King, while others claim that he renounced all worldly passions that he might save the world with his sacrifice.  The scriptures of the church of Dravot say nothing to either point, nor are such questions ever answered by auguries.  What is known is that no personage less than Iuz himself became the direct and opposite enemy of the church of Dravot, and the Old One and Saint Dravot are known to have personally clashed on more than one occasion.

Of Meepo, little is said, other than that he continued to reign as Chief of Kobold Country for many days and that his rule was just and truly full.  Different stories describe him being full of different things, however.  It is widely considered fabrication that he had anything to do with the liberation of Geoff or the defeat of Orcus, but the general populace does believe that he ruled by divine providence and that Rhuun Kazaii enjoyed some form of protection that certainly reflected well on the chief.  In the years that would follow, Rhuun Kazaii would never truly grow that large, but it always remained interesting.


----------



## Zad

And thus the campaign is ended. At this point there used to be a lot of kind words and nostalgic discussions and so on. But then the messageboards crashed (yet again) and it was all lost. I'll sum up.

It's been nearly six years. These characters started at first level and we've played this campaign for nearly six years and they've reached out and touched the gods, or became gods in some cases. 

We all were really glad to be a part of it, and are glad to have shared it. We hope you enjoyed reading it.


----------



## Zad

*The Savage Sword of Meepo Post-Mortem*

My intention here was to present some thoughts in the wake of the ending of our campaign. Some of them are tips for the reader, the player, the DM, or the story hour author, and some of them are more general reflections with little purpose but to indulge my need for closure.

First the background (most long-time readers will know this already so you can skip it if you want): Most of us were friends through various channels already. I knew Aethramyr since high-school (quite a long time ago) and the others over time. We were acquainted through LAN parties and other things. And D&D 3.0 was coming out soon, and collectively we got a nostalgic itch to play. None of us had played any RPGs in quite some time but all had done so in the past. Wizardru had run a long campaign in the past for some of the folk, and there was a desire to recapture some of that fun. And so we decided to give it a go. 

3.0 came out and was a generally good system and we worked through the learning curve together. Initially it was planned to be just kind of a “take it for a spin” kind of thing, but it quickly grew into a full blown campaign and a highpoint of our weekly life. Originally Wizardru used published modules, adding some spanning story-lines, then later doing more customization or just creating adventures from whole cloth as needed. The Epic Level Handbook gave us the opportunity to continue the campaign and while we were hesitant to try these rules, we gave it a go with pretty good results. And we adapted to 3.5 when it came out. 

But eventually the story lines were all driven to completion, and it was time for the characters to retire. And here we are.

*On story hours and the writing thereof:*
Story hours are… challenging. I’m sure I could go on for hours about it, given the amount of time I’ve been doing it and the depth of the experience. It’s been a real growth experience for me writing this story over the years. I think I’ve gained a lot from it, and I think (hope) my writing has improved as a result. At first the story was more of a reflection of the gaming session. Eventually it became more of a dramatic retelling with a great deal more of my own creativity and influence showing up. I could see patterns in my mood or feelings on the material in how the story came out and I began to get a handle on what would make good story and what wouldn’t as it happened at the table. For the most part, it’s something you’ll have to experience for yourself, but that doesn’t mean there’s no advice to be had.

My first bid of advice is decide the parameters of your story hour then stick to them. When we first started playing, I wasn’t writing a story hour – I was taking notes for historical purposes. It was a record of what we’d seen/done for future reference. It wasn’t designed to be a good read, just reasonably accurate. As people started posting story hours, I adapted what I’d done for that. Even then, it was somewhat dull and lacked energy. Then Wulf’s Story Hour hit, and we began to see what a story hour could really be. I shifted the perspective of the story to first-person and re-wrote the early parts into first-person. From there, the energy of the story picked up, and as my writing skills improved, and I got to see truly spectacular works from people like Destan and Sepulcrave, things got better and better. I finally began to see that there is something of a conflict between the goals of a good story that the reader will enjoy and an accurate record of what happened during a game. 

It was at this point that I began to take more liberties with the facts. Some things would be ignored if they were just mechanics and didn’t enhance the story. Some events would be embellished. A few would be fabricated altogether. But if you’re writing a good story, this isn’t a bad thing. In fact it’s a good thing. Real D&D games (or insert your favorite game here) don’t usually make good reading and it takes real work on the part of the author to turn it into a collaborative work of fiction. I’m sure I’ve surprised my fellow players and Wizardru with some of the liberties I took at times, but I doubt any of them would say my departures from fact didn’t make the story better. (And generally they didn’t impact the long-term history so the story was still useful as a historical record.)

So my point is that you shouldn’t think of it as a slavish documentation of a game session, but instead consider it creative writing where the inspiration is supplied by your game.  The parts of the story I’m most proud of almost always involve a fair bit of fiction on my part.

Some points to consider:

1.	First person or third person? What’s your perspective going to be for this story? For those who have forgotten their high-school English classes as I have, here is the difference: First person would say “We went to the dungeon in search of adventure.” Third person says “They went to the dungeon.”  There are advantages to both and it’s mostly a stylistic thing. One point to consider is if you are the player or a DM. A DM has knowledge of things the players lack and therefore can add information that is out of sight of the players. If you are one of the players, first-person can make things a little easier since anything your character didn’t see was, by definition, unknown to you. The pitfall here is that if another character has a significant event happen when your character wasn’t there to see it, you may have to do some fudging to capture it in the story. My suggestion here is to do the fudging – capturing it in the story is probably more important than maintaining the illusion.  Another note here is that third person is fairly neutral, but first person gives you the opportunity to flavor the story with your character’s perspective. This can be a lot of fun but also at times a liability.
2.	Present tense or past tense? It doesn’t matter which, but stick with it. When you shift tenses during a story, it’s jarring and unpleasant for the reader.
3.	Focus on drama, not combat: Interactions with NPCs are often very interesting and move the story along. Combat, on the other hand, is usually tedious and dull to write about. Most certainly the blow-by-blow details will be a chore to read unless spiced up with some dramatic license. We tend to spend more game time on combat, and new authors will therefore tend to spend a lot of story-words on it and end up unsure why their story is dull. Focus more on character- and NPC-interactions and make sure when you write about combat, you try and keep it brief and interesting.
4.	Inside jokes are not funny from the outside: Game sessions should be fun, otherwise you’re playing for the wrong reasons. But be careful with humor specific to the group – it won’t translate well to strangers reading the story.
5.	Look to others for inspiration: Go read the great authors – Piratecat, Wulf, Sepulcrave, Destan, etc. To me, each stands out for a different reason. Piratecat has a fantastic campaign world. Wulf has a great first-person experience full of flavor. Sepulcrave is unparalleled at creating moral conflict and choices. Destan is, to me, just an outstanding writer who tells a great story. Take elements that you like and use them. I’ve used Destan’s trick of skipping an encounter and re-starting the tale on the other side to great effect. (Sometimes for dramatic effect, going back and covering it, other times because it was dull and therefore created more interest on the reader’s part if left to their imagination.)

Stories are art – creative writing with some parameters. Be driven to create a good story and don’t feel shackled to what was said at the gaming table.


*High level play*
Something that we’ve observed over the years reading the ENWorld boards is a certain fear, bordering on irrational, of high-level play. DMs are uncomfortable with the power level of the characters and/or their ability to properly balance the encounter or threaten the players. 

This kind of thing always makes me sad. For some people (and I freely admit I am one of them) the prospect of advancement is a major motivator. For some folks it’s the only thing that drives them (fortunately me for me I get satisfaction from other areas as well). If you take that carrot away, or limit it, these people will always feel cut off and frustrated. Worse yet, you’re denying everyone – players and yourself – an opportunity to experience a very interesting side of the game. 

Now what the term “high level” means varies. Some people are wary of anything over 8th level. Some get nervous at 14th, and others still think it means epic-level play. Frankly though, it doesn’t matter – it’s all fun, it’s all rewarding and it’s all something to try. First I’d like to offer some general thoughts, and then later more in specific areas.

First, don’t fear high-level play because you’re worried about making a mistake. DM-ing is not a perfect art, and sometimes you’ll do something that didn’t work out. It’s not the end of the world – just make it go away and move on. Or try out some runs with one-off characters created for that run and give everyone the chance to explore it.

Next, don’t fear the powers. A lot of DM’s hate the idea of the players having easy access to scrying, teleportation, divinations, and so on. These powers are not game-breakers despite what some people think. Some DM’s fear their ability to keep control of things if the players can blip around but it turns out not to be a real concern. Worse yet, some DM’s allow the advancement, and then continually find ways to negate those powers. “Ok you’re on the outer planes and you can’t teleport” or “that magic doesn’t work here for some unknown reason.” At that point, you’re back to swinging swords at goblins and missing the fun. For some examples of the good and bad side, let’s look at published modules. For the bad, let’s look at Bastion of Broken Souls. This isn’t a module I’ve been in or read, so I defer to Wizardru on it, but generally speaking it layers on various ways to negate the powers of higher level players rather than letting them really use them constructively. For the good side, I’d direct you to the Lich Queen’s Beloved – a module series published in Dungeon Magazine. It’s a stellar module and a great example of a high-level adventure. Players are expected to use their powers well and creatively to overcome the challenges. 

Often, when a DM fears losing “control” of the players, it’s the sign of a bigger problem. Adventures should not be a set of railroad tracks, allowing no deviation from the planned story. It should be an environment where the players are presented with a challenge and allowed to come up with their own solutions to it. This applies to play at any level, but some DMs feel that they won’t be able to get the party to the goblin citadel if they can teleport some other place. My response to that is “So what?” Let them. Have some other challenge ready, or nothing at all, and they’ll make their way to the citadel eventually. Better yet, let them go off elsewhere. But while they do, the goblins grow in strength and power and wreak havoc on the countryside. Then they have to go clean up the mess later.

This isn’t to say there aren’t some problems out there to worry about. In 3.0, scrying and teleportation combined into an unpleasant mix. Consult Wulf Ratbane’s story hour for some examples of the “Scry and Fry” approach. Fortunately this was tuned up in 3.5, but the point is this: if a given thing is becoming problematic in the campaign, talk to the players about it and make some house rules if needed. We had the capability for scry-n-fry in our campaign, but we didn’t use it much. It was an unspoken arrangement – we didn’t like what bad guys could do to us with it, and Wizardru wouldn’t have liked us using it much, so each side just left it alone and we were all happy.


*What to focus on and what to ignore*
To some of you this will be obvious, and to others, not so much. But there are times to focus on things and times to ignore it.  Wulf Ratbane coined the phrase “torch lighting issues”. At first level, you ask how the players are lighting the torch, but at 15th level, it’s pretty irrelevant. Recognize what’s important at any given time and focus on that, realizing it changes over time.

At first level, travel is an adventure in itself. Watches are set, encounters happen in the night, and so on. Play it up. 

But as the levels rise, the threats in the wilderness become fewer. Unless the PCs are traveling in a particularly dangerous area, there likely will not be much that could threaten them. So why dwell on it if it’s not fun or interesting? Start to hand-wave routine travel, saying “It takes you a week to get there. When you arrive, you find…” 

Then you move up a little higher and teleportation and wind walking become options. At this stage, travel is not that interesting in civilized areas. More often than not, the limiter is the number of spells available to the group. Focus on that limited resource as being scarce, but still realize that the wandering monster table is probably not important any more.

At even higher levels of power, resources like teleportation aren’t even scarce. You can ignore distance altogether then, simply cutting between locations as need. Towards the latter part of the campaign, characters would go from place to place with no mention even made of how they got there. It just wasn’t important any more.

This one example of travel is designed to make you consider that gameplay elements that were initially important become trivial as the capability of the characters increase. Be willing to let them go and focus on fun stuff when that time comes. It speeds play on to the ‘fun bits’ and helps the characters feel more significant in the world. Which brings us to…
High level characters and their role in the world
As characters enter higher levels, they are not just a collection of bigger numbers. For a world to feel compelling and characters to feel motivated, they need to have the sense that they have an impact on the world around them.

Innocent example: In a town, around 8th level or so, the townsfolk were calling us “Sir Aethramyr” and “Lady Kayleigh” and so on. The title was assumed – we were powerful people in their eyes and thus nobility implied. It made us feel important.

Brutal example: When the githyanki invaded the Prime, we were quite miffed. We scrambled to get back to the Prime, and were pulled into one of their attacks which we turned back without mercy. Then we attacked one of their outposts and destroyed it utterly. When you get down to it, we single-handedly turned back the invasion, then took the battle to the astral and destroyed the Lich Queen. We had a profound impact on the world – nations and powerful beings had to worry about us having an impact on their schemes. Stories were told, songs were sung, and fame spread.

Things like this are very empowering for the players and it helps the world feel real and their power feel respected. Too often DMs are afraid of higher level play and try to keep the players down, not just in terms of game mechanics, but in terms of their place in the world. Don’t do it. 

(If they act recklessly however, you can then remind them that actions have consequences.  )


*Specialties*
Related to this is specialties. Ideally, each character should be damn good at something and ideally not have much competition in that area from other party members. Readers will probably recognize that each member of the party had their core strengths. Now, this is as much between the players as the DM – there eventually develops a tacit agreement not to steal each other’s thunder too much. This isn’t to say you can’t have some redundancy, but each character should be able to shine. Since a lot of this covers mechanics that aren’t always visible in the story, it may not always be obvious but it was there. Valanthe defined the term stealth – her Hide and Move Silently scores were huge. This was her thing. That’s not to say nobody else was sneaky – Kayleigh had very good scores, but rarely used them. Doing so would steal Valanthe’s spotlight. But occasionally Kayleigh could go with her to give her some backup. The reverse is true when you consider Spot. Kayleigh was the spot-monkey for the group. Valanthe was nearly as good, and this is the kind of thing where you don’t want to rely on just one person.

*Balancing encounters*
I don’t DM. Or at least I haven’t in many years, and I wasn’t the DM for this game. Therefore the mechanics of encounter balancing from my point of view are completely from the player – it’s the challenge to be overcome. I like to think I have a fairly tactical mindset and therefore take a tactical look at each encounter. So perhaps the most helpful thing would be for me to share my analysis methods and tell the DM’s reading the things that scare me as a player and impact my tactical analysis. Armed with this, a DM can create fear in the party (to set the mood) without overbalancing the encounter to the point of a TPK.

1.	Unknowns are scarier than knowns: Obvious, sure, but worth stating with. Given a creature I don’t know anything about, I have to assume the worst. The more unknown a creature is, the more I worry. This doesn’t help balance an encounter but it does help create fear in the players. The level of “unknown” is of course directly dependent on how well your players know the Monster Manual. Personally I never studied it.

2.	Damage isn’t scary, but spell-like abilities are: To my way of thinking, a disintegrate is more terrifying than a fireball. The reason being is that the fireball will only hurt me but the disintegrate is save-or-die. It’s like double-or-nothing. Death tends to be hard to recover from and is also a bummer for a player. So spell-like abilities that are save-or-die are very troubling, when compared to things that just do hit-points of damage. The same applies for melee attacks – they’ll only hurt you, unless the creature is so strong that it’s probably overpowered anyway. Use save-or-die abilities cautiously, since they can be fickle and cause unexpected deaths even among the most hearty with one bad roll. This ties into my next point:

3.	Randomness is scary: Save-or-die is scary because it only takes one bad roll to kill you, and anyone can roll a one. I favor things with predictable outcomes – randomness generally does not favor the party. An orc will only ever be hit with one critical hit in his lifetime, but the players will face them over and over again. 10d6 tends to be a pretty stable amount of damage, but 1d6 * 10 can be all over the map and is more troubling. The point here is that when balancing encounters, consider not just the average damage but the maximum damage.

*High level powers – Defense*
Defense is not sexy. Defensive powers never killed a monster. The only way you win an encounter is if the monster runs out of hit points before you do. From that point of view, it seems like you need to focus on offense. But this is a fallacy – defense is critical. Regardless of what game you are playing, they all have a fundamental balance and you are going to get attacked. You need to make sure you’ve spent adequate effort and money to be ready. 

Saving throws are one prime example. Taking a feat, or buying a magic item to boost your saves is not fun, not sexy, and not interesting. But it could save your life. In EverQuest we had a saying: A dead rogue does no damage. The same applies here. Make sure you’ve taken reasonable steps to boost your saves and AC. Saves become more important as more save-or-die spells are flying around – you can’t afford to miss a saving throw. AC is a slightly different matter but still important. When a monster that’s a reasonable challenge wants to hit you, it’s going to. But what you’re protecting against isn’t the first attack but the second or third or fourth one hitting. Just as your iterative attacks have penalties to hit, so does the monster’s. 

But don’t just stop at saves and AC. To have a successful defense, you need to have many layers. This protects you from a variety of attacks and gives you more chances to escape consequences. Consider these different elements of defense:

AC
Saving throws
Concealment/miss chances
Spell resistance
Mirror images
Elemental resistance/immunities
Shapeshifting
Invisibility
Don’t be there (i.e. out of range)

The list goes on. Using our campaign as an example, here are some of the defensive elements employed by different characters at different times:

Dravot: exceptional saves due to stacking of good stats, class saves, magic items, and charisma mod to the saves due to a domain trait. Coupled with spell resistance from a magic item, he was very hard to effect with magic. It was an excellent example of stacking many different kinds of bonuses together to form a near-impenetrable defense. Since he was rarely in melee range, he did not often face physical damage. As his power grew, Dravot was also a defense for everyone else – given a little time he could heal virtually any wound/effect or just bring you back from the dead altogether. 

Valanthe: an exceptional hide check with the shadowdancer hide-in-plain-sight ability meant that you couldn’t find her to hit her. She would expose herself only when she chose, and on her terms. Her will save was weak but compensated for by the epic feat allowing her to substitute her reflex save.

Scorch: by using a variety of spells, he was often able to avoid having to protect himself with the direct use of AC or a saving throw. Spell immunities, mirror images, and shapeshifting as a small creature were tricks he used to avoid retaliation. Without exception, any time Scorch was on the receiving end of grave bodily harm, it was because he made a poor choice that put him there. (“I’ll attack the wolf with my staff!”)

Aethramyr: if you have a lot of hit points, you can just suck it up and move on. A cloak of displacement also seriously cut the damage our single biggest damage-soak had to take.

Kayleigh: a high dex character with little in the way of armor, she used assorted force effects to keep her AC high (bracers of armor, shield spell, etc.) As a ranged combat character, she did not need to be near a monster to hurt it, allowing her to avoid melee attacks. (If you have Aethramyr standing in front of you, you’re not going to chase down Kayleigh even if she is hurting you.) Magic and feats were used to boost saves and mirror image helped avoid direct-targeted effects. In her final days as a partial LeShay, she had probably the tightest defense of the party, with a 72 AC (racial bonuses and epic mage armor thanks to Scorch), a strong suite of saves, and spell resistance. Taken together it meant that several rolls had to fail for something bad to happen. This is what you want – you’re better off with two chances to beat an effect than one, even if it is strong.

And for you DM’s, the same applies to your monsters, but in reverse. Generally speaking the monster needs to die, so you don’t want an impenetrable defense. Most monsters should have a gap in their defense. If it has a high AC, maybe it has weak saves. A monster with a tight defense in all categories is frustrating for the players and forces them to rely on luck to defeat it.


*Final words*
My final words: Try it. 

Whether it’s writing your first story hour, experimenting with high level play, or anything else, just give it a try. If there’s a mistake, then there is. It’s not the end of the world we’re talking about here (or at least the real world.) If you got together and had some fun, then you succeeded. We often laugh the most later at our most spectacular mistakes. So go out and try whatever it is that worries you and see for yourself. So go get in the game and have fun. 

We’ve all said it before but it bears repeating here – I owe great thanks to Wizardru and my fellow players. Together we made something that was the highlight of our weeks and one of the best games I’ve ever been in. It was fun, it was challenging, and it was wonderful. So thank you to all of them, especially Wizardru who had to work ten times as hard as any of us did.

It’s one of my deepest hopes that you had as much fun reading about our game as we had playing in it. Every bit of praise offered by a reader has been very personal for me and I thank you all for your interest.


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## Zad

And it begins again!

The new story hour with all new characters can be found here.


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## Pielorinho

*Moderator's Notes*
Given that this was bumped by a spammer (for phentermine--nothing exciting), I'm going to go ahead and lock this thread.  *Wizardru*, if you'd like this unlocked, please just email me or report this post, and I'll be happy to do so--but it looks as if your story hour has moved on.

Daniel


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