# Aftermath II - Free Agents



## Rybaer (Apr 24, 2002)

Welcome the my little campaign world called Aftermath.  This is the continuation of my previous thread which has started to bump up against the recommended 200 post limit.  As a quirk of good fortune, the story had just arrived at a critical juncture when the characters had completed their duties and obligations to thier home city of New Selmar and had, essentially, become free agents.

Click here to view year one of Aftermath. 


*******************************************

Aftermath campaign summary (the short, short version):

Our five heroes, Amblin the monk, Boaz the fighter, Nigel the ranger, Rurik the cleric, and Zalman the wizard, become acknowledged as full adults in the war-battered community of New Selmar.  After two decades of war, they no longer have contact with any other community in the region.  As a group, they are charged with venturing out in search of knowledge and to make trade contacts with other cities.

When Rurik's head is changed into a lion's, they follow the master wizard Sangelais' suggestion that they seek the mage Shadykin in Ironwood Forest for a cure.  En route, they narrowly escape an orc cavalry charge by crossing a river and getting a hand from a friendly treant.  In return, they do the treant a favor by finding the source of corrupted water deep in its forest - a baby green dragon that has laired next to a fresh spring.  From here, they venture onward and rescue a halfling named Kisty from a band of goblins.  She offers little explanation about why she's out here all alone, but does tell them she hails from Water Break - a modest sized port city.  They convince her to show them the way back there in exchange for the rescue.

Shadykin's school is found abandoned.  Well, almost.  While exploring the ruins, they have to deal with a polymorphing witch and her pets (a couple rust monsters and beholderkin) as well as a pair of half-fiend ogres.  After that, they find themselves trapped within a custom-made pocket world inside the massive Golden Dome on the property.  What should be an idyllic paradise is actually suffering from faulty controls due to the lack of upkeep over the last twenty years in the absence of its creator.  Digger, Shadykin's badger familiar, clues them in to trying to fix the problem.

The descent into a foul pit of corruption in the center of the Dome leads them to fights against a horde of fiendish bunnies, a pair of giant metallic snapping turtles, a handful of floating jellyfish and accompanying cloud of flying piranha, lethal flowers, and ultimately a giant mechanical spider perched on a barbed-wire web.  They fix the Dome, but the process is ugly and painful.  With the help of a powerful cleric acquaintance, they learn that Shadykin is trapped in a stasis bubble on the premises.  They travel to the demi-plane of time and undo the effect.  Shadykin tells them of his battle against a wizard of the Black Hand at the beginning of the war that left him trapped.  He also graces each with a powerful and useful magic item and cures Rurik of his lion-head.

They travel a short distance from Shadykin's, following word of a tiny village.  They arrive to find many bodies and only one young boy alive.  He tells them of a raid, and they follow the tracks back to an ancient tomb in the woods.  Turns out that some village hunters had distrubed the resting place of an ancient gnoll king - a skilled ranger, no less.  They duke it out with the URG's (undead gnoll rangers) and rescue the remaining villagers, though Boaz perishes in the process.

One of those rescued was a visitor from a small elvish community to the east - on their way to Water Break.  He leads them to the village where they are received warmly.  A magic item recovered from a nearby iron mine transforms Zalman into a female elf (wizard apprentice), transforms the apprentice into Zalman, and transforms the elder wizard into a squirrel.  The item also points itself unerringly back to the mine.  They follow it in search of clues to a cure and find the place overrun with kobolds.  Eventually, they make it through the maze of traps and reach the lair of an arrogant amethyst half-dragon named Thrindlemond who puts them through a series of "trials".  No one appreciates this.  Later, he undoes the transformations and tells them that he used the device to lure them in here for his trials.  He believes, as do "others" that they might be part of a prophecy that also involves the evil wizards of the Black Hand.  No one really buys it, but he teleports them to speak with another about the prophecy...conveniently in a town just a couple days from Water Break.

They meet this other chap who runs a traveling puppet show with odd religious overtones.  He tells them more of the prophecy, but not to worry too much about it.  They oblige him and depart for Water Break.  Kisty stays behind, not wanting to deal with "certain family issues" in the city.

The next day, the group encounters an odd mix of bandits that have raided a wagon.  Four are dead and one teenaged girl is about to be raped.  The group charges in and rumbles with the bandits.  Most are killed, though the leader - a dark elf named Shadow, they later learn - escapes.  A patrol of lancers arrives a bit later and tells them of the bandits and Shadow.  There is a bounty for each of the bandits killed that they can claim in Water Break.  While traveling with the lancers the next day, they offer an assist on the slaying of a pair of hill giants.

Water Break, the largest city any of them had ever seen, seems to be heavily under the influence of a group called the Red Cult or Church of the Small.  They have outlawed most forms of magic use and require strict registration of magic items within the city.  The group grudgingly complies.  In the city, Amblin meets a group of monks and accepts an offer to duel - an odd affair called the Duel of the Bat, which is performed while hanging upside down by a series of adjustable ropes.

They visit the Duke's court the next morning and tell their tale and collect the bounty.  That night, while Amblin and Nigel are out at a party with some local ladies, Rurik and Zalman are attacked at the inn by thugs and Zalman is kidnapped while Rurik lay helplessly paralyzed.  Zalman awakes in a dark cell and finds another chained up with him.  This turns out to be Misty, Kisty's twin sister and leader of the Thieves' Guild, who uses a drug-hazed charade to dupe Zalman into telling her where Kisty really is.  Zalman is knocked out and left stripped of clothes and possessions in an alley.

Everyone reassembles and they race back to High Hill to warn Kisty that she could be in danger.  At the inn, they find that a group of thugs arrived a bit earlier.  Things stay cool until our heroes' room is firebombed in the middle of the night.  A fight ensues and the thugs are vanquished.  The Shadow, however, sneak attacks Nigel and nearly kills him.  Kisty, by good fortune, intervenes just in time and distracts the Shadow.  They almost catch the dark elf, but under the pinning hold of Amblin he magically disappears.

Kisty reveals how Misty had hired the Shadow to steal a book from the dwarves of Mt. Goldforge.  The Shadow mistook Kisty for Misty and gave her the book instead.  She was en route to return it to the dwaraves when she was captured by goblins, the very ones that the group rescued her from.  The book is very ancient and refers to a city called Kladish.

They spend the next month resting and recovering in the local (exiled) mage guild, which Zalman is now an associate member of.  They still need to establish trade contacts, so they make a quick trip into Water Break and find a helpful merchant.  He suggests they try to get use of the Duke's griffons so that the contracts necessary for a full caravan to New Selmar can be arranged in time to make the trip happen this year before the weather turns foul.  As the Duke's court is over for the day, they leave the city north to visit the Countess Lohna, an elvish noble Nigel met in Water Break who gave them an open invitation to visit.

Lohna, they learn, is unable to go into direct sun "as a result of one of the magical diseases that swept the area of the last two years."  So, she joins them later that evening when she awakens.  She is a very pleasant lady and wonderful hostess.  Later that evening, after most had retired to bed, a halfling wizard with a pair of summoned girallons assault the house.  The group fights them off and eventually kills the wizard, but are unable to learn who he is or what provoked the attack.

They don't expect the Duke to give them use of his griffon riders, but are pleasantly surprised when he makes them a deal.  (The idea of being able to get weapons and armor from the legendary Mt. Goldforge from the deal tips him in favor of the idea.)  If they'll help harvest this year's griffon eggs, then the riders will shuttle them out to New Selmar, Mt. Goldforge, and back.  This they do, though they have a rough time with a pair of wyverns on the way out.  On the way back, eggs in hand, they realize they have pursuers.  Zalman tries to shoo off an eagle he thinks is spying on them...turns out to be a polymorphed wizard.  The ensuing duel, three thousand feet in the air, ends in a stalemate, and the group makes it back to Lohna’s and then immediately back to Water Break.  Here, Rurik is given an anonymous note begging for rescue from Kladish...seems some dwarves are trapped there.

They leave with the griffon riders and the merchant the next morning.  During the week spent flying home, Rurik falls ill and cannot be magically cured.  The stop in New Selmar is brief and they are congratulated and then released from duty to the city.  Bommer, a halfling scout, joins the group.  Rurik is now unconscious, so they hurry on to Mt. Goldforge and the high clerics there.  The clerics determine that he's under a Quest, cast by a servant of Moradin.  He is revived and the links between the stolen book, a mysterious visitor in the night, and the anonymous note are put together.  Kladish, a dwarvish city lost over 5,000 years ago, apparently is near Water Break and within are dwarves in need of rescue.  Also, someone else is very interested in finding that city or something inside it.  They return to Water Break and then hurry up the coast in search of the remains of the ancient city.


*****************************************

More wacky adventure goodness to come.  (Not to mention a lot more character deaths...)


----------



## Rybaer (Apr 24, 2002)

Session #12.1 – Into the Ruins


Much as the group desperately wanted to leave Water Break the evening they returned, they realized that they needed horses before they made the trip north in search of the ruins of Kladish.  It was already pushing evening and it was unlikely they’d be able to find a horse dealer until tomorrow.  So, the group quietly slipped out of the Duke’s keep and made straight for a slightly upscale Inn located in the now quiet temple district.  They were blessed with an uneventful night.

The next morning, they tracked down a horse dealer just outside the city walls and bought a couple mounts of dubious quality.  Halfway to noon, the group reached Lohna’s estate in Vineyard Pass and stopped in for a brief hello.  Lohna, of course, was sleeping, but the head servant Linnea greeted them warmly.  Amblin picked up his dog, which had been left here during their griffon-riding trip.  Nigel asked Linnea to give his greetings to Lohna when she awoke.

The rest of the day, the group rode (or jogged) hard north along the coastline, retracing their steps from the griffon egg expedition.  They encountered no problems and camped in one of Zalman’s conjured shelters for the night.

The second day out, the pace slowed as the ground became more broken and treacherous.  Fissures were common along the cliff wall.  Everyone also had their eyes peeled for signs of Kladish and the “twin spires” that Rurik’s message had referenced.  An hour or two before nightfall, they finally spotted the twin spires – two tall island spikes of rock that jutted out from the ocean.  Rurik’s message referenced two entrances, one at water level and one higher up.  The higher up one was supposedly a dangerous entrance due to a creature living there.  

Zalman polymorphed into a gargoyle and flew up and down the cliff face, searching for the entrances.  The one at water level was relatively easy to find, but he could tell that passage could be risky.  The waves crashed hard against the cliff wall and there were only a couple feet of clearance into the cave that went back into darkness.  The second, higher, cave was much less daunting on first glance, so Zalman flew in for a closer look.  It didn’t take long before he spotted a distressing artifact lying among the stones of the cave – a reddish-brown scale the size of a small plate.  He snatched this up and flew back up to his companions.

He described what he saw of the two entrances and then brought out the scale for show and tell.  Zalman, a student of monster lore, was almost certain that it was a red dragon’s scale…and this was no infant dragon like the green that they’d slain in the Ironwood Forest a couple months earlier.  The scale alone was sufficient to discourage everyone from trying to enter Kladish through the upper cave.  They discussed for some time how best to tackle entrance to the lower one.

Eventually, Zalman returned on his own (still polymorphed), to see what was further back in the cave.  Skimming just above the waves, he flew back about twenty feet before the ceiling rose up and it emptied into a watery cavern.  Most of it appeared natural, but there was a small man-made cutout to one side with a passage well above the waterline leading away.

Bommer climbed down the cliff face using his Slippers of Spider Climb while most of the others climbed down a rope.  From the end of the rope, Zalman then shuttled them into the cave one at a time.  It was a lengthy ordeal, but eventually everyone managed to get in.  Hooty was left topside with instructions to watch the horses and keep an eye on the “dragon’s cave.”

When all were assembled on the landing, they proceeded down the single corridor.  The passage was quite large with high ceilings.  The stonework, in Rurik’s dwarven opinion, was excellent, even if it was ancient.  The smell was less impressive.  There was the distinct scent of decaying flesh mixed with the smell of the sea.

The passage opened up into a small chamber with three heavy stone doors leading off in different directions.  The door to the left was open, while the other two were closed shut.  Nigel noted large humanoid footprints in the sandy muck on the floor, possibly ogre.  A couple checked out the room through the open doorway and found several long spears propped up against one wall.  They had signs of fairly fresh gore on some of their tips.  A small, rank-smelling pool of water sat in the middle of the room.  As there was nothing else of interest, they left and moved on to the next door.

Bommer, clinging to the walls and ceiling with his Spider Climb ability, inspected the door for traps.  Finding nothing, they swung the remarkably functional door open and were assaulted with an overpowering blast of rancid air.  Several in the group vomited while the others hazarded a peek in.  It was a square room with a large stone-slab table in the center.  There were the severed heads of several seals sitting beside a rusty cleaver.  Entrails and other refuse were piled carelessly in a corner.  They quickly shut the door and backed away.

Bommer gave the third and final door leading out of the chamber a quick inspection and proclaimed it fit for opening.  The problem was, it seemed to be blocked from the other side.  With Nigel, Rurik and Amblin all working together, they managed to push it about a foot and a half wide.  The sound of stone sliding across stone echoed loudly from the other side and everyone made certain they had weapons at hand should any undesirables have come to check on the commotion.  

Nigel poked his head through the cracked door and saw nothing but more hallway and a stairway leading up.  It was also quite dark.  He slipped in and the others quickly followed.  The thing blocking the door was a stone barrel – empty, but still quite heavy.  They rolled it a bit further from the door so they would have more maneuvering room in case they had to make a hasty escape.

Bommer scouted ahead, again Spider Climbing along the ceiling.  The stairs were unusually large, making each step a bit awkward for everyone.  Odd, they thought, for a dwarven city to have such construction.  At the top of the stairs, the passage leveled off again for a short distance and then opened into a small room.  As Bommer entered, his hands sank into something soft and squishy on the ceiling and he jerked back.  When better lighting was brought in, they could all see that some manner of fungus had grown across the entire ceiling in this room.  Bommer wiped it off his hands and did not note any harmful effect from it.  He decided to Spider Climb closer to the floor and closer to the light sources from here on out.

The room at the top of the stairs was empty.  A passageway branched off both left and right.  The one to the right led to another tall staircase.  The passage to the left reached an open door and a larger chamber beyond.  They chose to explore that direction first.

The door to this room, again made of stone, appeared to have been broken at some point in ancient history.  It was propped up against the doorframe, but was sufficiently out of the way for everyone to easily enter the room beyond.  The room itself was about forty feet in diameter and had a high, domed ceiling.  A massive statue dominated the center of the room and four smaller statues were arranged around the periphery.  All of the statues appeared to have once depicted humanoid beings, but had been melted or warped well beyond recognition.

The most notable feature of the room, however, was the double doors in the opposite wall.  Two opaque crystal doors of a deep violet hue rose some fifteen feet high.  Six symbols were arranged in a circle that spanned both doors.  From the top clockwise:  A triangle over a circle; three waves in a hexagon; a hammer and anvil (Moradin’s symbol, Rurik noted with glee); a white bone on a black rectangular field; a six-pointed star; and a battleaxe and horn.

“That one there must be Moradin,” Rurik said.  “I’m surprised that he is not placed at the top of the progression, though.”

“What gods do the other symbols belong to, then?” someone asked.

“I have no idea,” Rurik answered honestly.  As far as his education into religious matters went, the dwarves only worshipped Moradin.  They might recognize the other gods of the humans and other races, but they were not given positions of equal or greater respect than the All-Father.

Rurik reached out toward the door, curious about the crystal construction.  As his fingers brushed the surface, he felt a bit of a charge pass from his own body and into the doors.  Both began to glow softly with an internal light and silently swing open before him.  A wide staircase led downward before him into dark silence.


Next session:  The guardians of the tomb and the Salien Hunter.


----------



## Amblin (Apr 25, 2002)

*Dog/God u decide*

Amblin in: Seeing as Rybaer did mention my puppy I will tell ya'll more about him. Fiist off he is with us in the ruins. I asked Zman to fly up and get him, which he did. His name is Moltar, he's a lava dog. right now he's about 4 to 6 month so more puppy then dog, but none the less he cost me a fate point to train. So if I can keep him alive perhaps in the future he will be of use. Mostly right now I just have him guard Zman towards the back of the group. He's a Rot/lab mix named after a big dumb Rot/lab mix my roommate had 6 or 7 years ago. I'm hoping MoltarII will end up a little brighter, if he lives. That's a BIG if cause if you know anything about dogs 4 to 6 month is that gangly, puppy don't know where my feet are phase. Plus the "hey that smell good I'm going to go play with it". Those to features plus the types of critters we're fighting now don't mix well. For now I'll say he's still with me. More then I can say for others, and looking more like a lava dog then ever. As for Kladish went I saw those 6 symbols and Rurik knew of only the one. That makes 5 dead Gods. Add to that are new friends in the church of the small (thats pure sarcasm by the way) I'm starting to think religions are passing fancies of minds. If Gods can be forgotton what ever power they have is in the minds of there followers.  Not to say there isn't great power in that, but it's the minds with the power, not the Gods. Which brings me to a greater understanding of the church of the Small. So I don't hate them and I don't fear them... yet. Small minds seeking Great power is something to be watched. With that Ambin out.


----------



## Amill (Apr 26, 2002)

*Testing*

Rybaer does seem to be moving along nicely in getting this story posted. Eventually I might get to start posting on good ol Amill 
laters...


----------



## Rybaer (Apr 26, 2002)

Just to put things into a mechanical perspective...


By the time the characters enter the ruins of Kladish, this is their approximate composition:

Amblin - human monk 8
Bommer - halfling ranger 1/rogue 6
Nigel - elf ranger 6/ arcane archer 2
Rurik - dwarvish cleric (Moradin) 8
Zalman - human conjurer 7


The levels should be pretty close.  I forget exactly when some of the guys started hitting 9th.  You might notice the lack of a big beefy fighter.  Amblin relies on spring attack in melee and Nigel prefers (and excels at) his bow.  That leaves Rurik pretty much alone as the group's tank, along with anything Zalman can get summoned.  This one missing component to an otherwise very balanced group will be noted and lamented repeatedly in the not too distant future.

Amill, a human psychic warrior, will be joining the group in a while to help fill in this gap.


----------



## Rybaer (Apr 28, 2002)

Session #12.2 – Temple of Nur


The crystal doors swung wide and revealed a broad staircase leading down into darkness.  For lack of a better direction to head, Rurik started down and the other fell in behind him.  The stairs emptied out in a massive chamber with columns lining either side of its length.  When Rurik reached the last step, strips of blue crystal embedded in each column spontaneously illuminated, giving the room a soft glow.  The crystal doors closed of their own accord behind them.

Aside from the illumination, everything else about the place gave them a sense of desolation.  There was no sound other than their footfalls.  Rurik walked slowly in, absorbing every detail and openly admiring the craftsmanship.  Further in, they realized that there were two doors leading off to the left and right and another hallway leading out the far end.  There also appeared to be a couple bodies lying on the floor at the far end of the room.  These they inspected first and found them to be so far gone that little was left but scoured bones and wisps of clothing.  The two could have been dwarves, but even that was difficult to discern.

The doors on either side of the room each bore a different symbol that was meaningless to them.  They carefully inspected and opened one and found that it led to a crypt of sorts.  Several massive stone sarcophagi, each ten feet long by five wide and tall, filled alcoves.  There were no names or identifying marks aside from intricate geometrical designs engraved in their stone caps.  Someone half jokingly suggested opening one but Rurik’s scowl quickly put an end to that.  

The hall on the far end led to a T intersection.  On the wall before them were a variety of symbols arranged in a family-tree fashion.  Several they recognized from the crypt doors in the previous chamber.  Another, about halfway down the lineage, they recognized as being on the cover of the book that the Shadow had stolen from Mt. Goldforge.  The clan crest for Khazad Steelmaker, perhaps?

Both side passages immediately doubled back, so they picked the left one and proceeded around a corner and down yet another flight of stairs.  The next level emptied onto a landing with wide hallways leading to left and right and another pair of staircases leading further down.  They peeked down the next staircase and found that it led to a temple of sorts.  Rows of stone benches were lined up before a massive stone altar.  Upon the wall behind the altar was the symbol of a bone in a black rectangular field, like the one seen on the crystal doors – only this one had been seemingly desecrated.

Two doors led out the back of the temple.  Through one, they found the old remnants of what they believed to be a preparation chamber for the dead.  Assorted vials, jars, and containers lined shelves and tools of unusual design were strewn about.  Everything was covered in the dust of millennia.  Through the second door, they found a room that had been utterly devastated.  Whatever had once been in here was charred as if some mighty explosion had occurred.  

The group retreated back to the landing outside the temple and followed the hallway around the right side of the temple.  Lining one side of the hall were more stone doors, each adorned with symbols that matched up with one or more of those seen on the previous level.  They poked their heads in a couple doors and found rows of stone sarcophagi stacked two high in tighter alcoves in the walls.  These seemed to have been slightly less important people than those in the crypts upstairs.  Again, they left the crypts undisturbed but did check each room on the off chance that there would be a hint as to the whereabouts of those in need of rescue.

The hall wrapped around the back of the temple and a quick check of the hallway around the left side of the temple revealed just another passage with more crypts.  Behind the temple, however, was another hallway leading to and down another staircase.  Just as they were about to continue onward, Nigel, with his acute elven senses, noted that there was a secret door near the intersection.  Bommer inspected it and found the opening mechanism and no sign of traps.  The group debated the merits of checking beyond the secret door or continuing down the stairs, eventually settling on the latter.  

As they descended the next staircase, they could tell that the air was becoming a bit more damp and smelled slightly of seawater.  At the bottom of the long staircase they found that the last three steps were underwater.  They judged it to be waist deep for most except for Bommer who would have to be carried to continue.  At the edge of the water, Rurik again triggered the activation of strips of glowing blue crystal embedded in columns lining the long chamber.  The room appeared to be little more than an ornate and very large hall.  At the far end was a pair of massive stone doors.

While the crypts and temples had thus far been quiet, everyone was a little bit on edge.  They felt like they were being watched.  No one was very keen on walking through the calm water for fear of something underneath the surface striking at him before he could see it.  Rurik was set on following the course to the end, though, so everyone followed.  Rurik led the way, literally walking on water thanks to his magic ring.  (If ever Rurik truly had a “divine” moment, this was it…walking on water in an ancient dwarven temple.)

As they crossed the room, they did note that there were some very tiny fish swimming in the water.  To their relief, nothing attacked them from under the water as they crossed to the double doors.  Bommer inspected the doors and proclaimed them untrapped and unlocked.  They pushed them open and found a relatively small twenty-foot square chamber leading to another set of violet crystal doors with the same circle of six holy symbols upon them.  The only oddity about the room was the forty-foot high ceiling.

(DM note:  A couple of them did notice that there were pieces of crystal affixed to the ceiling, and Bommer even spent the time to climb up and check them out.  They were evenly spaced shards, the length of shortswords and razor sharp.  He knew it was a trap, though he couldn’t figure out the trigger mechanism.  Luckily for the group, they avoided it.  Anyone not a cleric of this pantheon trying to open the crystal doors would have triggered a reverse gravity field in the 20’ room between the doors, thereby falling forty feet upward onto the spikes.  Now, with the water having seeped into the chamber, it would have immediately flooded the “pit.”  For some, they would have been able to take advantage of the water to swim back out.  For others, they may very well have drowned.)

Suspecting a trap, everyone vacated the room aside from Bommer and Rurik.  Rurik touched the crystal doors and again felt a small discharge of divine energy from his body and the doors swung open.  The room beyond was wider and taller than most of the previous ones.  Blue crystal strips along the walls lit up to give it a dim glow.  On the far side of the room, rising just above the water line, was a large dais upon which sat mounds of gold, gems, weapons, collectibles, and other artifacts beyond counting.  To either side of the dais, a hallway led out of the room.

Still walking on water, Rurik led everyone into the room.  The doors silently shut behind them.  Though it didn’t really need to be said, Rurik reminded everyone to touch nothing in here.  The dwarf stepped up on the dais while the others followed at a distance.  Rurik looked down both the side halls and could see several large and ornate sarcophagi in each.  “Burial chamber for the kings?” he wondered silently to himself.

While surveying the contents of the treasure hoard, Rurik caught a glimpse of movement though one of the side passages.  As he looked up, three ghosts floated silently across the water and onto the dais next to him.  Three more from the other chamber joined them.  To everyone’s surprise, though, they were not dwarves but minotaurs.  The transparent visages were each dressed in fine but alien attire.  Everyone tensed as they approached their friend, but no one dared attack.

One of the ghosts initiated a form of telepathic contact with Rurik.

“It has been time beyond time since one of your kind has set foot in this chamber,” the minotaur said.  “Who are you and why are you here?”

“I am Rurik,” he mentally replied.  “I seek some of my people who are trapped here.  May I ask who you are?”

“I am King Truvar,” the minotaur replied.  “These are other Kings from before and after my time.”

Rurik bowed humbly before them.  “Do you know anything of the dwarves trapped here?  Where we might find them?”

“No,” the King replied.  “We guard only this chamber itself and our perceptions extend little further.”

Rurik risked probing further into the history of Kladish and the minotaur was willing to answer some of his questions.  Kladish, it explained, was the outpost of the Tauren Empire on this world.  For several hundred years it flourished until their mortal enemies, the Salien Empire, attacked and destroyed the city.  When Rurik asked what the other gods represented on the door were, the King acted somewhat surprised and disturbed.  He did, however, give Rurik a brief run-down:  Tol, the all-power; Uminor, of water and trade; Moraein, of earth and craft; Nur, of the dead; Hebli, of sun and magic; and Zuchur, of war and valor.

“Aside from Moraein,” Rurik said, “these gods have become lost to my people.  Perhaps you could tell me more of them.”

“Perhaps,” the King said.  “It seems odd to us that such knowledge could become lost, but time is a powerful force for change.  First, we would ask a favor of you and possibly your companions.”

“What?” Rurik asked.

“While we protect this inner chamber, we have been aware of a disturbance in the temple since the fall of the city.  We believe that a Salien Hunter, likely a dead one, haunts the rest of the others entombed here.  If you could remove this nuisance, it would allow us the peaceful rest we so crave after these eons.”

“I can but try,” Rurik said, not really sure what a Salien Hunter was or whether they were up to the challenge.

“Should you complete this task, we will recount more of our lost lore for you,” the King said.  “Furthermore, we could offer a reward, possibly even Dulurdains.  While they are sacred objects, our city and people are forever lost and they serve us little buried here.”

Rurik was staggered.  Dulurdains were legend among the dwarven people.  Reportedly, they were magic artifacts of remarkable powers.  Few were ever believed to have existed, and those were lost in ancient times.

“May we rest here before taking on this challenge,” Rurik asked.

“Yes,” the King replied, “but do not touch anything.”  And with that, the six ghosts evaporated.

Rurik recounted to the others most of his conversation with the ghosts, but refrained from telling them about the Dulurdains for the time being.

“So, just what is this Salien Hunter thing they want us to destroy?” Nigel asked.

“No idea,” Rurik said.  “Some leftover from the invaders that destroyed the city, apparently.”

“And this thing is supposedly in this temple somewhere?”

“Yup.”

“Then why didn’t we see it on the way down?” Amblin asked.  “We pretty much checked out everything on the way down.”

“Could be behind that secret door we skipped past,” Bommer suggested.

“Frankly, I don’t like the sound of it,” Amblin said.  “Undead nasties.”

Nigel, who had a particularly dislike for undead, had to agree.  “We’re here to rescue dwarves.  I’m not so sure about fighting this thing for the benefit of a few long-deceased minotaurs.”

“Maybe this thing is involved the keeping the dwarves trapped here,” Bommer suggested.

“Well, the kings said it’d be okay if we rested here until we were ready,” Rurik said.  “We just aren’t allowed to touch anything.”

“Yeah,” Nigel said.  “We could use some rest.  We’ll discuss it again when we’re ready to leave.”

No one had noticed that Zalman remained remarkably quiet during the conversation.  When Rurik had mentioned the Salien Hunter and the Salien Empire, he alone recognized the names for what they truly were.  Having studied the Planes and ancient history a bit, he knew perfectly well that the Saliens had once been the most feared and destructive force ever known.  They were also known as Mind Flayers.  And this one, supposedly, had been dead and residing in this tomb for over five thousand years.  He wasn’t sure that the others were ready to deal with that kind of information just yet.  He knew damn well that he wasn’t.



Next session:  The undead mind flayer.


----------



## Amblin (Apr 28, 2002)

*Giant dwarves?*

Amblin in: Here we are trying to rescue dwarves, and all we find are dead giants. We took a wrong turn some where. Maybe at Mt Gfordge for all I know. Then my friend is attacked/approached by minotaur ghosts and nobody knows what to do. That was very tense for me in that he didn't look to be in pain, but... Then there was the whole "kill this guy for us and we'll be nice to you" thing. I'm not here to fight for minotaurs. I want to free some dwarves so I can leave. I don't like this place, at all, not a bit, want to go home now. Then again no home to go to. Alright one undead mind thing and on with the dwarf rescue. I'll leave Moltar to guard the treasure, we'll kill this thing and move on. so simple am I, at this point, so sorry I'll be, soon. For now Amblin out.


----------



## Rurik (Apr 28, 2002)

*Soo much to deal with*

First of all... I helped get everyone into the water level cave entrance with my Ring of Water Walking.

Now we're in...

I am just starting my God-given quest to save these traped worshipers.  I am really feeling empowered.  

When we come across the doors that open to my touch, I start to feel like this truely is my destiny.  Of course I have to warn everyone else about touching anything...this is a sacred place.  

When we found the holy symbol decicrated, I was enraged.  Who would dare do this to an aly to Moradin.  I decided to make sure I fixed it before we left this place.

I was also taken-aback at the fact that minotaurs were buried here.  As far as we new, minotaurs are savage killing beasts.  No idea why they would be held in regard.  After a short "conversation" I realized these were not ordinary minotaurs.  I decided to treat them with the respect of a follower of Moradin.


----------



## Zalman (Apr 29, 2002)

Session #12.1 – Into the Ruins 
As I recall we used Rurik's ring of water walking to get people into the cave.  As a polymorphed gargoyle I was no where near strong enough to carry people into the cave.  (small point, no worries)  

I was very worried that we would eventually come across a red dragon.  The size of the scale that I found led me to belive that it was adult or older.  Not a good prospect, we were of insufficient strength to take on anything of that magnitude.  It is our friendship with Rurik that kept us going.  At first I made good friends with Rurik because he was the one that kept us - me - alive.  It has grown into a true friendship.  


Session #12.2 – Temple of Nur 
Rurik never filled us in that the Minotaur ghosts we saw were kings.  They were simply described as "care takers."  I think he knew that if he had said that we were in the crypt of dead Minotaurian Kings we would have questioned if we were in Kladish at all.  This was a dwarven city, right? ...right?

Mindflayer...  The ability to assault the mind and the sensabilities of everyone.  The situation earlier where Amblin pushed someone into a hole because he was "confused" would be the best we could hope for.  A very powerful mindflayer, undead, lurking, probably already very aware of our presence.  I don't like it.  Not one bit...


----------



## Rybaer (Apr 29, 2002)

Session #12.3 – The Salien Hunter


After resting up and studying/praying, Zalman finally decided it was for the best to tell the others what he knew of the Salien Empire – of the Mind Flayers.  If they weren’t happy in the first place about facing some unknown undead creature stalking the crypts, they most certainly weren’t any longer.  Talk turned from whether they should take on the ghostly minotaurs’ task or just flee the temple and find the dwarves.  They came to the consensus that they would do everything they could to avoid facing the Salien Hunter, moving quickly through the temple and checking what was through the secret door they had passed earlier.  If they encountered the Hunter after all, they’d either face it down or flee, circumstances permitting.  Believing the treasure vault/hall of the kings to be the safest place down here, Amblin ordered his dog to stay put.

Rurik led the group back through the crystal doors and up to the temple level.  The complex seemed just as quiet as before, but now they could put a name to their sense of unease.  As they reached the top of the stairs on the temple level, the whispers in their heads began.

“I see you…”

“You cannot hide from me…”

“One of you is already under my control.  Can you tell which companion will stab your back?”

“Do you still control your own thoughts?”

The voice seemed to be speaking to them individually, whispering taunts and threats in their minds.  With the first couple whispers, nothing was said, but eventually they each started sharing what the voice was telling them so the others would know.  Paranoia began to run a bit higher for they could neither see nor hear anyone around them.

They hurried toward the secret door and Bommer set about opening it.  Meanwhile, Amblin walked a short distance to peer down one of the halls running alongside the temple.  He saw nothing, but in the distance could hear a rapidly building shuffling sound.  At a guess, he thought it sounded like a small horde of tiny creatures charging down the hall in their direction.  (He was right about this…it was about 100 undead rats.)

Amblin informed the others of the impending company.  Working under immense pressure, Bommer finally go the secret door open and pulled it open, revealing a very tight spiral staircase leading up.  

“Do we go up?” Bommer asked.

“Go!  Yes, go!” Everyone else shouted.  Just then, an overlooked secret door just a short way down the hall began to open and the wave of undead rats started to round the corner on them.

The mind flayer had continued to taunt them throughout all of this, whispering little words to create doubt and fear.  Bommer had, in fact, fallen under the foul creature’s sway and was given very specific instructions:  “Do not let the cleric touch the door at the top of the stairs.  Tell him that it is trapped.”

Bommer had slipped into the stairwell and started climbing up the walls to allow the others to get in and past him.  Amblin, by far the fastest of the group and scared half to death of what was coming up behind them, led the way.  Rurik came in next while Nigel and Zalman were still out in the hallway when the mind flayer stepped out from behind the other secret door.  Neither got a good look before it hammered them with a mind blast.  Zalman resisted the agonizing pain in his head but Nigel crumpled.  The wizard, fortunately, was physically strong enough to haul the elf under one arm and throw him into the stairwell, pulling the door shut behind him.

Rurik took Nigel off Zalman’s hands while the wizard turned back to the door.  His immovable staff would be useless in keeping it closed due to the way it swung, but he had another idea.  He hastily cast an Enlarge spell on the stone door, swelling it just enough to jam it tightly shut in its frame.  Feeling a bit more secure, Rurik and Zalman helped Nigel up the stairs to the sound of the undead mind flayer and horde of rats scrapping uselessly at the door.

“How long will that hold em?” Rurik asked.

“Couple minutes,” Zalman replied.  The pounding at the door became louder and more determined.  “Maybe less.”

Amblin had reached the top of the rather long spiral staircase well ahead of any of the others.  It stopped at a dead end wall.  Having some experience with these things, he immediately suspected there was a secret door.  Finding how to open it, however, was much more Bommer or Nigel’s forte.  Time was pressing, though, so he started running his fingers over the cracks looking for some sort of mechanism.  Instead, he set off an Acid Fog trap.  Thick clouds of green gas poured out of the wall and filled the stairwell behind him.  The gas burned his skin and almost blinded him.  He tried to race back down the stairs to get clear of the gas but found it nearly as difficult to move through the thick gas as it would be to run through water.

Finally, he escaped the front edge of the caustic fog and hurried down the stairs to warn the others.  Zalman ran up a few more steps and summoned a Wind Wall to contain the Acid Fog.  Rurik healed the substantial burns that Amblin had sustained.  The problem now, though, was what to do next.  They were trapped on a very narrow spiral staircase with an undead mind flayer behind, a cloud of acid fog ahead, and Nigel was still a stunned sack of drooling elf.


Next session:  Almost escaping is a far cry from actually escaping...


----------



## Zalman (Apr 29, 2002)

Hmmm... I guess I am not as useless as I think I am.  I have an overwhelming urge that I am in the wrong place.  I think I shouldn't be here... I should be in a lab, school, library... something of that nature.

Deathly afraid of the mindflayer I had changed many of the spells that I normally memorize.  I took more "utility" spells that I thought would keep some distance between us and an undead mindflayer.  So far, so good.


----------



## Rybaer (Apr 29, 2002)

Zalman said:
			
		

> *Hmmm... I guess I am not as useless as I think I am.  I have an overwhelming urge that I am in the wrong place.  I think I shouldn't be here... I should be in a lab, school, library... something of that nature.
> 
> Deathly afraid of the mindflayer I had changed many of the spells that I normally memorize.  I took more "utility" spells that I thought would keep some distance between us and an undead mindflayer.  So far, so good. *





Indeed.  In the span of about fifteen seconds, Zalman whipped out two spells (Enlarge and Wind Wall) that none of us had ever seen him cast before.  Odd as I found that, he had wisely made a point of memorizing a bit wider variety of spells for this encounter.

Of course, some of his creative spellcasting would soon come to haunt the young mage... (insert maniacal DM laugh here)


----------



## Dyme (Apr 29, 2002)

_Amblin, Rurik, Bommer & Nigel_: What's a Salien Hunter?

_Zalman_: Lessee, this will be near death experiences #3,422-3,425 inclusive, and quite possibly dead death experience #3.

_Players_: Undead mind flayer? Oh, god. Let's make a plan that involves us not even running into the thing.

Us and plans work *so* well, yanno.

All for a bunch of stinkin' dwarfs.


----------



## Dyme (Apr 29, 2002)

Nigel Notes:

Darrrrr….ummmmm, buhhhh…. Zuguhdoogah… oooo! Something shiny!

:::gurglegurgledrooldrool:::

Believe it or not, the story of Our Heroes vs. The Undead Mind Flayer gets _even better_. Maybe we'll get lucky and Rybaer will post it soon and not make the Story Hour Readers wait.  Then the masses can see just what a *well oiled fighting machine we are*... in case they hadn't already figured out we'd find some way to *screw this up*. 

:::slobber:::


----------



## Rybaer (Apr 30, 2002)

And now, ladies and gentlemen, I present the one post I've most been looking forward to writing since this story hour began.  It was a memorable fight, both for the good and the bad.  -Rybaer



Session #12.4 – Battle in the stairwell


No one was pleased with the situation.  An undead mind flayer (or Salien Hunter, as the minotaur kings had named it) and horde of undead rats were pounding at the stone door below them.  Above, Zalman’s Wind Wall held a soupy green cloud of Acid Fog at bay.  And all five of them were stuck on a three-foot wide spiral staircase.  Oh yeah, and Nigel was a drooling idiot from the Salien Hunter’s mind blast.

“Okay, what are our options?” Rurik asked.

“Well, there’s a nasty trap above us,” Amblin said, still feeling the tingling in his skin and eyes from the acid even after Rurik had healed him.  “I’m assuming there’s a secret door up there, but I sure didn’t find it.”

“And even if there is a secret door up there, we don’t have a clue what’s behind it,” Zalman said.  “We might end up facing something worse or still find ourselves trapped.”

“How much longer will that door stay stuck?”  Bommer asked.

“Couple minutes at best,” Zalman said.  “And that’s if he can’t break through it.  Sounds like he’s giving it a hell of a go.”

“How long will that Wind Wall last?” Rurik asked.

“Should be almost expired,” Zalman replied.

“Does that mean the fog’s still gonna get us?” Amblin asked.

“I’m not certain,” Zalman said.  “I think it’s a pretty short duration spell as well.  Hopefully it’ll dissipate before my wall does.”

“Uh, I’ll go check,” Amblin offered and jogged back up the stairs.

“Option number two,” Rurik said, “we go back down and face the Hunter.”

Zalman quietly preferred his third option – casting Dimension Door to slip himself back outside to where they’d left the horses.  Too bad he couldn’t bring everyone else along with him.

Nigel started to come back to his senses.  “Urglaugh…”

“How ya feeling?” Rurik asked.

“Like I spent the night in a drinking contest with a clan of dwarves,” he replied half-heartedly.

“Looks like you lost.  You ready to move soon?” 

“Yeah,” the elf said.  “Especially if it’s in a direction away from that thing.”

Rurik and Zalman filled in their leader on the current state of affairs.  Nigel’s mood failed to improve.  Amblin trotted back down the stairs a moment later to report that both the Wind Wall and Acid Fog were gone.

“Bommer,” Nigel said.  “Let’s go see if there is a secret door up there.  Hopefully, there’ll be a way to open it without setting off the trap again.”

As the two of them trotted back up the stairs, Rurik, Zalman, and Amblin waited patiently about halfway up the twisting stairwell.  “Zalman?” Rurik said.  “Can you make another one of those Wind Walls if the trap gets set off again?”

“Nope,” Zalman replied.  “Not without more time to study than we’ve got left.”

“So, if that trap gets set off again, we pretty much have to charge that thing downstairs or face certain death by acid,” Rurik said.

“Mmm,” Zalman replied.  He was silently going through the words and incantations for Dimension Door.

At the top of the stairs, Bommer and Nigel were closely inspecting the dead end wall, careful not to touch anything.

“Well, there’s the crack marking the edge of the door we’re looking for,” Bommer pointed out.  Nigel nodded in agreement.  “And I’m fairly sure that’s the latch to open it.  Thing I can’t tell, though, is how it’s trapped.”

“Magic, I’d assume,” the elf said.

“Right,” Bommer said, “and that’s not really my specialty.”  Bommer was still under the influence of the mind flayer at this point.  His instructions had been to insist that the door was trapped and that he couldn’t disarm it.  It wasn’t a difficult act for Bommer as it was the truth on both accounts.

“Better get the spellcasters up here,” Nigel said and started back down the stairs.  Bommer looked once more at the door and then followed after.

“Zalman.  Rurik.”  Nigel called out as they returned.  “Looks like a magic thing.  Bommer can’t disarm it, so you’ll have to take a look.”

Everyone followed back up the stairs with Zalman and Rurik in the lead.  Bommer clung to the ceiling so he could see what they were up to.  Zalman cast Detect Magic and studied the door.

“Yeah, it’s still enchanted,” he confirmed.  “Very powerfully, too.  Looks like it’s got Conjuration, Enchantment, and Abjuration spells on it.  More than I’d expect from just a trap.”

“Can you Dispell it?”  Nigel asked.

“I doubt it,” Zalman replied.  “It’s a permanent enchantment, so the best I could hope for would be a momentary suppression.  And even that would be a long shot as its creator was clearly more powerful than I am.”

The pounding of the mind flayer at the door below had begun to change tone slightly.  It sounded distressingly like it was now making some progress at breaking down the door.

“Well, leader, what do we do?” Zalman asked Nigel.

“Do you think this might be another of those doors that can only be opened by a cleric?” Nigel asked Rurik.

“Maybe,” the dwarf said.  “The others were made of crystal, but I suppose this could be similar.  I know I didn’t inspect the other doors’ magical properties and I don’t think Zalman did either.”  Zalman shook his head.

“Okay, I vote for Rurik trying to open this door so we have a chance at getting away from that thing down below,” Nigel said.  “All opposed?”  Rurik was the only one to look at little bit displeased, but he didn’t speak up.  Bommer, however, did.

“Guys,” the halfling said.  “I really don’t like the way this door looks.  I don’t think it’s at all like the others and I’m almost certain the trap will get set off again.”

Nigel looked at him squarely and decided there was something about the halfling’s tone that bothered him.  Maybe it was the stress of the situation.  This was, after all, the first time Bommer had been in a life-threatening situation with them.  “Thanks for your opinion,” he said, “but the rest of us think it’s the best plan.  Now, let’s all go down the stairs a bit just in case the trap is sprung.  Maybe we won’t all die immediately.”

Rurik waited a few moments for his friends to get out of the way and then reached for the secret door’s latch.  He felt a tingle identical to the one that had opened the two sets of crystal doors.  No trap went off as he cracked the door a fraction of an inch.

“It worked!” he yelled down to the others.  He could hear them tromping back up the stairs.  Still unsure of what was beyond the door, he opened it slowly.  It swung easily until the crack was about five inches wide and then it stopped abruptly.  Something was blocking it.

Amblin was the first to reach Rurik and immediately recognized the frustrated look on his friend’s face.  “What’s wrong?”

“Something’s blocking the door,” the dwarf replied, starting to put all of his weight behind it.  Still, it didn’t budge.

The others arrived and learned of their new dilemma.  “What can you see through the door?” Nigel asked.

Rurik peeked through.  “It’s dark and it looks like the wall is rounded.  I see something just at the edge of my view…it looks like…a statue.  Wait!  I think this is the room with all those warped statues where we found the entrance to this temple!”

“Great,” Zalman said.  “That means this secret door is blocked by a stone statue that probably weighs a couple tons.”

Nigel and Amblin both lent their strength to Rurik, but still the door refused to budge.  “Any brilliant ideas, guys?  Any useful spells?”

“Oh, I have one!” Rurik said.  “I can use Shape Stone to alter the statue.  Maybe I can get it to tip over out of our way.”

“Couldn’t you just reshape the door out of the way?” Nigel asked.

“Hmm,” Rurik said.  “I don’t think that’d be wise with all the enchantments upon it.  No telling how it’ll react.”

“Yeah,” Amblin agreed.  “Probably just set the trap off again.”

“Okay, do the statue.”  Rurik pulled a small bit of clay from a pouch and started to shape it to crudely match one of the warped statues they’d seen near the temple entrance.  While doing so, a loud crash echoed up the stairwell.

“Make it quick, there, Rurik,” Nigel said as he strung an arrow.  “Sounds like our last barrier just fell.”

Zalman summoned a celestial lion and sent it down the stairs while Rurik reshaped his clay model to give it a slanted bottom.  The roar of the lion was met with the skittering of the horde of undead rats.  Only moments went by before the lion went silent.

“Got it,” Rurik said as he pulled his arm back through the door.  A massive crash boomed from behind the door.  The dwarf put his shoulder into it and found that he could now open it just enough to fit through.

“Go, go, go!” Nigel shouted and Amblin and Bommer both followed the dwarf out of the stairwell.  Zalman, the furthest down the stairwell, cast Glue on a segment of stairs in hopes of catching most of the rats.  Then he, too, turned and followed Nigel out the door.

As they all made it out the stairwell, Zalman paused.  Another idea had just come to him.  This situation had peeved him off and he wanted to cast one more spell out of spite.  He turned to the others and said, “Just hang on a second.”  Before anyone could stop him, the wizard ran back down around the first turn of the stairs.  He could hear the horde rapidly approaching and as he got within view of the Glue he could see the first ranks of the vermin get stuck in it.  It was too tight in the stairwell for a Fireball, so he opted for a simple alchemical tinder twig.  He struck it on the wall and casually tossed it onto the Glue, causing the entire patch to ignite.  He had but a fleeting moment of satisfaction, however.  The mind flayer abruptly came into view and easily levitated over the flaming stairs.

Up close, the Salien Hunter was far more disturbing than the young wizard could have imagined.  The skin of its face was gray and dried, in some places flaked completely away to reveal bone and tendon underneath.  Its eyes were little more than dark pits that were cold, alien, and pure evil.  Worst of all were the writhing tentacles surrounding its mouth that reached hungrily toward Zalman.

Zalman’s fight or flight instincts kicked in.  The debate between which to act upon was won by the fight side.  He believed that if he turned his back to flee the creature would hit him with everything it had.  If he could hit the thing hard enough with a spell and just keep hammering it, then maybe he’d live long enough for his friends to come save him.  He conjured up a bolt of lightning that blasted through the Hunter, causing his and everyone else’s ears to ring.  The creature flinched at the blast and then lunged at the wizard, lashing tentacles swiping across his forehead.  One of the four secured a firm grip around his throat.  Buried within the mass of tentacles, Zalman could now plainly see, was a gaping maw full of teeth.

From the boom of the thunder and the sounds of struggle, everyone knew instantly that Zalman was in trouble.  Bommer was back on the wall and then the ceiling, climbing back down the stairwell in a manner that would keep the path clear for everyone else.  Nigel was next down the hole and he was able to get a view of the mind flayer literally holding Zalman in the air with a tentacle wrapped around his head.  Amblin and Rurik followed as best they could in the tight quarters.

Zalman was in dire straights, but he wasn’t completely out of it.  He drew out his Wand of Lightning Bolts, jabbed it into the Hunter’s stomach, and unleashed a mighty blast.  Again the stairwell shook and again the mind flayer staggered under the assault.  It refused to relent, though, and it locked the remainder of its tentacles around Zalman’s head.  Zalman could feel something tongue-like but far sharper snake out from the thing’s mouth and probe his nostrils.  

Bommer climbed down as quickly as he could, but it was slow going on the ceiling and he was just now getting close to Zalman, who the mind flayer seemed to be holding before itself like a shield.  Nigel, trusting his incredible marksmanship, let fly with two arrows.  Both buried themselves into the mind flayer’s shoulder, but it seemed to largely shrug them off.  Amblin could just see Zalman around the corner but had no room to maneuver in the tight quarters and with Nigel in the way.  Rurik was similarly frustrated at his inability to get closer.

Zalman knew the end was at hand and he was determined to do his best to take the mind flayer with him.  It was all he could do to activate the Wand of Lightning Bolts one more time.  Though he had weakened the creature, it was not enough to drop it.  

The Salien Hunter could have taken that moment to end Zalman’s life instantly, but sensing a growing threat from the arrivals of the others it instead chose to unleash one of its powerful mind blasts.  Zalman, at ground zero, felt his brain scramble.  His wand cluttered on the steps and he went completely limp in its vice-like grip.  Nigel once again failed to shrug off the assault and resumed his impersonation of a drooling idiot.  Bommer was completely unprepared for the mental hammering and he too fell limp.  However, due to his activated Spider Climb, his upper body swung free while his legs remained firmly affixed to the ceiling above Nigel.

Amblin and Rurik, fortunately, had better luck resisting the mental shockwave.  Realizing it would be difficult to get a clean shot at the mind flayer with it holding Zalman in the way, Amblin came up with an idea.  He leapt down the stairs, grabbed onto Bommer’s hands, and swung himself up and over Zalman and the mind flayer like a trapeze artist.  Landing in the cooling embers of what was a Glue patch, he spun around and pounded the mind flayer in the back.  Rurik came down a couple more steps and called upon Moradin for a spell that he’d prepared especially for this fight – Searing Light.  While he wasn’t the best of shots, Moradin was with the dwarf this day and the brilliant beam of white light tore into the mind flayer.

The undead abomination was in rough shape and raged with incoherent fury.  With targets in front and behind it, its mind blast was much less useful.  In an act of blind savagery, it ended Zalman’s life by tearing a hold through his nose and sucking his brain out.

Amblin hammered the Hunter with a flurry of blows and finally the creature dropped Zalman, itself slumping up against the wall.  At a glance, Rurik knew there was no way the wizard could be saved, so instead he unleashed another Searing Light at the prone mind flayer just for good measure.  Little was left aside from dust and rags after that.


Next session:  The kings and their gifts; the group presses on.


----------



## Zalman (Apr 30, 2002)

Rybaer, 
Excellent job detailing this encounter.  I am glad that you captured that I was continually thinking about Dimension Dooring my sorry butt out of here every few minutes.  Great description of the fight, as always.

I knew there might be some questions raised by the DM about a new plethora of spells memorized for this gaming session.  I keep a pretty standard assortment memorized for the normal day-to-day-I-don’t-know-what-is-going-to-happen situations.  No one is particularly surprised when I whip out Fly, Monster Summoning, or Glue (similar to Grease but sticky)  I made sure that my spell sheets were documented with which ones I was using, just to make sure everything was kosher.

I thought flaming glue would hold back the rats (which at the time I was unsure if they were undead rats or real ones).  Real rats would avoid the flames.  I have a strong Alchemy score so I pull out little doo-dads every once in a while.  I wasn’t going to trust this to a tinder twig so I used Prestidigitation to cause a flaming finger.   I didn’t count on the Mind Flayer coming up so quickly.  I thought that I could hold the Mind Flayer off for a few seconds so that my friends could get through the door.  I was hoping to blast him a couple of hard ones, summon a critter to hold him down, then run up and join my compatriots in an area where Amblin’s jumping and Nigel’s bow could be put to use.  This narrow stairwell was no place to confront this monster.  Of course, this didn’t work.  I don’t remember if my Lightning bolts were doing any good, but I do remember that they each did 35-40 points of damage.  Not bad for a 7th level caster and an 8th level wand.  

This was death experience #3.  (or ‘near death’ experience 19 for those of you keeping track)  I had used my two fate points in previous encounters and was now really dead.  I picture my mage, two feet off the floor, gasping for every breath and trying to hold the Mind Flayer from getting my friends.  But, like friends do, they came to my aid.  After being blasted by the mental assault all I could do was hang there – very aware of what was going on but helpless to do anything.  My last thought is that of a giant undead calamari ripping my brain through the front of my face.

I began planning for my next character.  Who would it be?  Gundo Bacon the Half-Orc fighter or Lieana the elven druid?  We need a fighter so that Amblin can jump in and out while Bommer is backstabbing and Nigel is hurling pointy sticks – but can we do without the spell casting that a druid would provide.  Maybe the companions a druid has would assist in melee fighting?

Next session you find the answer.


----------



## Rybaer (May 1, 2002)

I love having good "set-piece" fights.  Now, the Salien Hunter was supposed to be a tough and dangerous foe for the players.  I had anticipated a bit of cat-and-mouse in the wider hallways and chambers of the temple, though, where they'd have room to maneuver.  By trying to escape up the narrow spiral staircase, they turned an encounter with a tricky foe into a logistical nightmare (for themselves).  It was certainly much more entertaining for me to run, though.

The thing about mind flayers, of course, is the mind blast attack.  Depending on which and how many of the characters make their saves, the party can emerge victorious or suffer the Total Party Kill.  This one fell in the middle - one character dead and four physically unharmed (though some stunned).

The Salien Hunter was basically a stock mind flayer with a level 2 Ancient Dead template from Ravenloft slapped on.  I tweaked it just a bit to make it more mummy-like so as to fit with the backstory I'd created for this thing's existance in an ancient temple.


As always, more to come...


----------



## Rurik (May 1, 2002)

This was an amazing fight.  Intense, fast paced, lethal.  We only hoped to get out, then we hoped to get out alive.  

The Wall of Air saved us the first time we tried the door.  The second time, we didn't have any protection.  When I touched the wall, I knew I would die.  Then I knew my friends would die.  I was wrong...and relieved!  All of the doors that needed a cleric to enter have, untill now, been crystaline.  I had no idea that some secrets might need a worshipers touch.  I was estatic that it opened.  I was PO'd when I couldn't get through.  So close, yet so far.  Luckily, like Zalman, I had preped a couple spells just for this meeting.  

Once we were out and Zalman raced back down...I felt my heart break.  All we had to do was get out, but I also promised my help to the Minotaur Kings. I knew my friend was in over his head and I knew I had to help.  I just wanted to face this thing on a more level playing field (as in, when we were ready).

When I got down a ways and saw Zalman beening held, I knew this was a bad thing.  All I could do was try to kill it before it killed him.  Searing Light is one of the spells I preped just for this occasion.  I let loose, and...Zalmon died!  When we dispached the Mind Flayer, I was over come with guilt.  This is _my_ quest, and I have already gotten one of my friends _killed!_ 

First day...I've already lost someone.  What's next?


----------



## Amill (May 2, 2002)

*ahhh, tastes like cheeken*

Brainsucking at its finest  I will point out ahead of my actual coming out, that Zalman has not been in any danger, (let me clarify, any serious danger) of dying yet. But,  these guys are devious, I am sure they might find some way anyhow...


----------



## Rybaer (May 2, 2002)

Session #12.5 - Gifts from the Ghosts 


The loss of Zalman hit the group hard.  They had all watched as the mind flayer sucked his brain out by way of his nose.  Rurik was particularly distraught as this entire trip down into the ruins was for his personal holy mission - if any should fall in battle while fulfilling it, the dwarf felt it should have been him. 

Now that the mind flayer was no longer a threat, they figured that returning back to the lower levels of the temple to rest and recover was probably the safest course of action.  Rurik closed the secret door and then they carefully bore Zalman's body back down the stairwell and to the hall of the dead minotaur kings.  They laid him down on the dais and draped a blanket over his body so as not to have to look at the mess that was left of his face. 

The six ghosts of the minotaur kings manifested before them.  This time, however, King Truvar addressed the entire group telepathically rather than just Rurik. 

"You have destroyed the Salien Hunter," he stated.  "We can feel its presence gone from this place.  For this, cleric of Moraein, we are in your debt." 

"I'm glad we could serve," Rurik said.  "However, it came with a high price.  One of my long time friends was killed by the creature."  The kings appeared to silently converse with one another for a minute. 

"Please follow me, Rurik," the King said as it floated past the piles of gold and treasure toward the back of the dais.  It waived its hand and a concealed passage opened before them.  Beyond was a small room with a few shelves bearing a variety of arms, armor, and other items.  On one shelf were several books and a stack of scroll cases.  In one corner was a pair of ornately carved wooden chests.  Rurik knew at a glance that the items in this room were of inestimable value...that the treasure in the previous room was merely mundane by comparison. 

"Rurik," the King said.  "Take this scroll.  With it, you may be able to save your fallen friend."  Rurik took the indicated scroll from the stack.  "Its magic was saved against the day that a hero of the Empire fell in battle before his time was up.  The Empire is millennia gone; yet your friend has performed a great service in its defense.  The other kings and I feel it is acceptable to use it on him." 

Rurik returned to the others and pulled back the blanket from Rurik.  Carefully withdrawing the scroll from its case, he began to cast the powerful spell.  Everyone else watched on in awed silence.  Returning someone from beyond death was beyond their personal experience, literally the stuff of legend.  A palpable divine energy permeated the room as the casting continued.  Finally, after several minutes, Rurik completed the invocation and watched Zalman eagerly.  The hole in the wizard's face closed and healed over and the color in his skin returned to normal.  Then, with a sudden jolt, Zalman sat bolt upright and started breathing again. 

"What happened?" Zalman asked.  He had a pretty good idea, as his last memory was of his face in the maw of a mind flayer, but he was pretty certain this wasn't the afterlife. 

"You died, Zalman," Rurik said.  "The minotaurs gave us the means by which to bring you back, in thanks for your effort to purge this temple of the mind flayer.  You feeling okay now?" 

"Yeah, I guess so," Zalman said as he took stock of his condition.  While he was physically fine, he was having difficulty coming to terms with the whole 'death' thing.  He was going to have to spend some significant time dealing with certain issues when he could find some quiet time to himself. 

The minotaur king telepathically spoke up again.  "As I told Rurik when we asked for his assistance in destroying the Salien Hunter, we will offer each of you a reward for your services.  You may each have either one item of your choice from the piles out here, 10,000 gold coins, or one of the Dulurdains.  While ordinarily we wouldn't offer these artifacts to outsiders, our Empire is millennia gone and hoarding them here no longer serves us.  These we will part with only to those who are willing to vow to uphold the ideals of the Tauren Pantheon." 

"What are these Dulurdains?  And what is all this about the Tauren Pantheon?" 

Rurik explained to the others that in dwarven legend the Dulurdains were powerful magic items.  Artifacts, really.  The making of vows to a bunch of gods they knew little or nothing about was a much greater sticking point for everyone.  After a bit of discussion with the dead king, however, they eventually sorted it out that they would merely be expected to behave honorably and uphold the universal ideas of good.  And, most importantly, they were not defile or act against the Tauren Pantheon.  Everyone finally accepted these terms. 

King Truvar then led all of them to the secret room in the back of the chamber and pointed out each of the Dulurdains.  There were ten in all:  A coat of gold chainmail, a jet black cloak with a silver raven clasp, a longbow made of a pearly white material, a greatsword with a yellow crystal blade, a two-dimensional longsword, a pair of bulky metal/leather boots, a massive flail whose spikes were stylized minotaur heads, a shortsword with a blue crystal blade, lizard skin gloves, a platinum crown with several blue sapphires, and a dwarven war axe with silver haft and white blade. 

"Can you tell us what magical properties they have?" someone asked the King. 

"Regrettably, no," the King said.  "Part of the Dulurdains' nature is that they are closely linked with the wielder.  The more confident and powerful the user, the more potent the item becomes." 

"What if we pick something that doesn't suit us?  Could we pick again?" 

"A Dulurdain is semi-sentient, in a manner of speaking," the King said.  "It will not accept a wielder who is not in line with its purpose and goals.  If the item accepts you, it will reveal its powers.  If it rejects you, you will know it and then may choose a different item." 

The group poured over the items, guessing at their purpose and powers.  It was a difficult decision for some, an easy one for others.  Ultimately, though, everyone's first choice of Dulurdain accepted its new owner. 

(DM notes:  These items were something of a Christmas gift from the DM to the players.  Of course, they had to get through the mind flayer to earn them.  I wanted each player to have something of a signature magic item...something that wasn't a stock item from the DM Guide.  Essentially, the item gains a new ability at every even character level of the wielder or improves upon a previous property.)  The item chose by each player, along with the abilities they can presently access, are as follows:

Nigel – the longbow Star Slayer, made from the horn of an Astral Dreadnought.  Effectively a +4 mighty longbow.  Powers: +2 enhancement bonus, Shock, and can cast See Invisible on self 1/day.

Amblin – the boots Far Stride.  Powers: One kick per round is at +2 enhancement bonus, Stomp (as psi power) 2/day, Spider Climb at will, Endurance feat, Expeditious Retreat 3/day, and Shockwave 2/day (enhanced version of Stomp power).

Bommer – the cloak Raven’s Cloak.  Powers: +5 circumstance bonus to Hide, Darkvision 60’, and Polymorph into a raven 1/day.

Rurik – the dwarven war axe Sleet.  Powers: +2 enhancement bonus, Keen, and Frost.

Zalman – the crown Clarity.  Powers: Detect Magic at will, low light vision 60’, Comprehend Languages, Tongues, See Invisible at will.


While everyone became familiar with their new gear, the minotaur king spoke with Rurik about the gods of the pantheon other than Moraein.  The king then sealed up the back room, wished everyone well, and then faded away once again.  The group spent the balance of the day resting and recovering from the ordeal with the mind flayer.  To the best of their knowledge, there was only one direction to continue exploring from the areas they had already seen.  When everyone was ready, they would resume their search for the trapped dwarves.


Next session:  The upstairs neighbors.


----------



## Zalman (May 3, 2002)

Rybaer said: 


> Rurik was particularly distraught as this entire trip down into the ruins was for his personal holy mission - if any should fall in battle while fulfilling it, the dwarf felt it should have been him.



Yeah, we agreed.    Especially Nigel after his run in with the Dwarves of Mt. Goldforge.  I felt I was given a double Christmas present since I was resurrected and not made to bring in another character.  Up to this point my character had been whining about how many near-fatal encounter he had recently.  I wanted to do something with Zalman's personality that would reflect a personal change due to the remarkable circumstances around dying and coming back.  Z would need some "down time" where he was not fighting for his life every few minutes before he could decide what to do.


----------



## Amblin (May 4, 2002)

*Missions from Dwarves*

Amblin in: I missed a few in there, sorry. I'll now do my best to fill in. The fight with the mind flare. As I recall we all agreed to flee, and before we left the safety of the Kings chamber we figured that the secrect door most likely lead to the antechamber. We also figured it would be narrow, and we didn't want to fight the Flayer there. Flee I'm pretty sure was still the main objective. Being right about some things doesn't make the wrong part any better. We were right about both things. The stairs lead up, and we didn't want to fight the Flayer in the narrows. 

	Zman finally found the death of his own choosing. We were out. Close the door and say good bye to Moltar. I didn't want to do that personaly. So I'm glad Z felt the need to torch some rats, and it was very entertaining to figure out the trapezes move off the drooling halfling, and the truely gratuitous pommelling of something already dead is a good way to relieve the stress of losing a friend.


	Now we all got toys to play with. Thats cool, but still no dwarves, and know idea why minotars are buried in a dwarven city. I'm about tired of this whole place and ready to go. These boots are actually kinda comfy. Not nearly as heavy as you'd think. Then look about as angry as I feel. Cool. Hey I can walk on walls too. How about that. O.K. lets go kick some butt. Amblin out.


----------



## Rybaer (May 6, 2002)

Session #12.6 - Meet the neighbors 


After a long, comfortable rest the group left the temple of Nur.  They closed the violet crystal doors behind them and proceeded back to the intersecting room with the thick brown mold growing on the ceiling.  The only other exit was a hallway with a staircase leading up.  Bommer scouted ahead and found that at the top of the steps the hallway continued another thirty feet and ended at a closed stone door.  He crept up to it (climbing on the walls, of course) and could make out the grunting and laughing sounds beyond.  Listening carefully, he couldn't make out the words but hazarded a guess that there were only a couple voices.  He gave the door a quick inspection and concluded that it was probably not trapped and there was no locking mechanism. 

Bommer returned to the others and filled them in on what he'd found.  Based on the footprints Nigel had seen earlier (ogre-ish), everyone felt it was a reasonably safe assumption that whoever was behind that door was not going to give them a warm reception.  Sneaking in was not likely to work, so they decided to take the direct approach - fling the door open and storm through. 

Planning and execution are, of course, completely different animals.  Rurik and Amblin were prepared to open the door and charge in first.  Nigel would offer cover with arrows, Bommer would slip in along the wall, and Zalman would hold back for spell support.  They turned the door's handle silently and tried to fling it open.  The door opened a whole inch before hitting an obstruction. 

From within the room came the sound of surprise and chairs scraping across the stone floor.  Amblin and Rurik both threw their weight behind the door and managed to push it open just enough to squeeze through.  Amblin led the way and two ogres promptly threw a couple javelins at him.  One missed harmlessly and the other he deftly turned aside mid-air.  Rurik managed to get himself stuck about halfway through the door while Bommer slipped in above him on the walls.  Nigel, though the small gap in the door, caught just enough of a glimpse of one of the ogres to fire an arrow over Rurik's head.  As always, the arrow struck home.  Nigel savored to the delicious sound of electricity crackling off the arrow courtesy of his new magic bow Star Slayer. 

Amblin engaged the closer of the two ogres, forcing it to grab the massive club it had left propped against the wall.  Rurik finally squeezed through the door and joined Amblin while wielding his new axe Sleet.  Zalman, from out in the hallway, summoned a couple celestial dogs to help harass the ogres.  When the first ogre fell to the combined efforts of Amblin and Rurik's pounding, Bommer's flanking attack from above, Nigel's arrows, and a pack of dogs, the second ogre decided that things didn't look so good for him.  He started pounding on the stone door opposite the one the group had forced open and bellowed for help. 

The combined might of the group took down the second ogre with little fuss.  They quickly took stock of the room's contents:  a table with some coin and dice on it, three chairs, a couple stacks of javelins, a small wood barrel with water, a large stone barrel (blocking the door they'd entered), some chewed-on bones, and a pair of now dead ogres.  The only exit was through another door, which Bommer was busy checking over.  Like the previous one, it appeared untrapped and had no locking mechanism.  In spite of the ogre pounding on it and yelling for help, neither Bommer nor Nigel could hear a sound coming from the other side. 

"Continue?" Nigel asked. 

"They probably know we're here," Zalman said. 

"So there's no point in giving them any more time to prepare," Rurik said and started to push the next door open.  Again, it was blocked from the other side by a large stone barrel.  They were able to push it aside with some teamwork to reveal another dark hallway beyond.  The hall made a sharp left and led up another set of stairs.  At the top, it widened and firelight lit the ceiling and walls. 

While the others waited downstairs, Bommer scouted ahead.  The room above was long and somewhat angular, lit by a pair of torches set in the walls.  An ogre was slumped over a round table near the far end of the room and two side passages branched off left and right.  He silently slipped into the room and looked down each side passage, finding that both ended after a short distance in closed stone doors.  He then crept up to the ogre, which he found to be breathing deeply as if asleep.  A nearly empty jug of some foul liquor sitting on the table gave him a good idea that this ogre was not likely to wake easily. 

Bommer noticed that Amblin had crept up the stairs behind him to see how things were going.  The halfling motioned for him to bring the others up.  Meanwhile, he carefully climbed up the back of the sleeping ogre's chair and quietly slit his throat.  It was ruthless but effective, and he'd learned through years of scouting orc encampments that you never left a potential enemy behind if it could possibly be avoided. 

When the others had arrived, Bommer checked and listened at both doors.  Nothing.  They checked the one to the left first and found a couple crude sleeping pallets and some personal effects.  Nothing of any value or interest. 

The door to the right led to another hallway running both left and right.  To the right, the passage continued a short way before turning left.  Down the left side, there was a door on the right side, a widened section of hallway, and then a T-intersection much further down.  A couple lit torches were set in sconces along the corridor's length.  Aside from the crackle of the torches, the only sound anyone could hear was a faint rhythmic drone coming from their right.  Amblin poked his head around the corner down this direction and found another long hallway with four doors staggered along its length and an open room at the far end. 

The group decided to continue down the left hall first.  Through the door just across the hallway they found an old storeroom that had wide cracks in portions of the walls.  There was little else of interest, so they continued on.  The widened section of the hallway revealed a large stone door with Moradin's holy symbol inscribed upon it.  Four huge steel beams embedded in stacks of stone slabs blocked the door shut. 

"Hmmm, Moradin's symbol," Rurik pointed out.  "I'm guessing dwarves are that way."  Everyone else concurred that it was a good bet.  They also agreed to inspect the rest of the immediate area first, though, as trying to get through the beams and stone would not be quiet work. 

At the T-intersection, they found another corridor with many doors along its length.  To the right, four doors and a collapsed hallway beyond that.  To the left, five doors including one at the dead end.  They checked the rooms to the right and found one to be unoccupied sleeping quarters, one full of collapsed rubble, one with rotting refuse, and the last to lead to a natural cave system.  Nigel checked for tracks and found that there was considerably evidence of ogre foot traffic through the cave.  Best guess was that it led to an exit above ground somewhere further inland. 

They left the cave alone for now and checked the other end of the hallway.  The rooms down here all appeared to be sleeping quarters, one of which was occupied by a sleeping ogre.  Bommer dispatched him by climbing on the ceiling above and then gently floating down via his Ring of Featherfall.  He thought it was clever, the others thought he was showboating.  They said nothing, though, as he was ultimately successful in quietly dispatching the ogre. 

Through the door at the end of the hallway, Bommer and Nigel could hear very faint sounds.  Nothing identifiable, but it did not sound like conversation.  Everyone gathered up his weapon and Rurik and Amblin flung the door open and charged.  The room was long and rectangular.  The only furnishing was a table laden with the rear end of a half-eaten horse carcass (it looked remarkably like one of the ones they'd left tied to a tree a day earlier).  Two female ogres and a trio of infants were half dozing upon a pile of filthy rags and straw.  They perked up instantly at the sound of the door opening. 

There were a few moments of hesitation as the group wrestled with the moral implications behind assaulting a couple women and their children, even if they were vile ogres.  The dilemma was soon resolved when the ogre females started shouting and moved to attack.  Both were dispatched with minimal fuss and the infants were slain, not without a few pangs of guilt. 

"Better go cover the hallway," Nigel said.  "With all that yelling, anyone left is bound to come charging."



Next session:  Someone comes charging.


----------



## Zalman (May 6, 2002)

The debate of good vs. evil is overplayed.  I am sure Amblin will agree that as long as order is maintained good and evil will sort themselves out.  (Lawful Neutral)

The ogres and their children were slain where they layed because we wouldn't leave anyone behind us to threaten us later.  Was it right? Was it wrong?  It doesn't matter - it was a threat and it had to be eliminated.  If it was a creature we might have been able to negotiate with, we would have done so.  I have, personally, never heard of anyone entering parley with an ogre.  Was that blasted female ogre screaming for help from the people we already dispatched... or is there someone else?


----------



## Dyme (May 6, 2002)

Nigel Notes:

Oh, man…. That mind flayer thing was interesting to say the least. Especially since Nigel got to spend most of it contemplating his navel. Or whatever elven equivalent there is to a navel. He was more than a little upset that he let himself get pretty much taken out of the fight. While he didn't blame himself for what happened to Z, Nigel was convinced it could have been avoided if only he had been a 'little stronger' in shaking off the effects of whatever-it-was that thing did to him. Especially the second time. Nigel has a really bad habit of failing Will and Fort saving throws for some reason.  But that part of the story had a happy ending, so….

When Amblin's player told us that he was planning to us Bommer as a trapeze, _everyone_ in the room looked at him with a "You're gonna do _what_?" expression. But that part of the story also had a happy ending, so…

Nigel had a crisis of conscience with accepting the Minotaur's gift. He doesn't always seek out a temple whenever possible, and sometimes he's a little lax on praying and reflecting as much as he should, but is a fairly devout follower of Ehlonna and wasn't real sure if making an oath to a different pantheon would be a good idea.  Eventually he was assured that Moradin and Ehlonna were on good enough terms with each other that she would not be angered.  So he got Star Slayer and now has just obscene pluses to hit and damage when using it. I'm OK with that as he's fairly useless doing anything else besides hiding and spotting. Occasionally he can track, but that's about it. 



> Nigel savored to the delicious sound of electricity crackling off the arrow courtesy of his new magic bow Star Slayer.




Well, I dunno if he "savored to the delicious sound". "Was giddy with excitement" would be a little more accurate. Nigel's not much of a savoring kind of guy, but he has been known to get giddy.

If I remember right, Nigel only hesitated briefly in the ogre nursery. Someone started screaming, and that was bad. He didn't enjoy it at all, but there really was no other choice. You gotta do what you gotta do.

And the greatest clusterscrew our group ever perpetrated hasn't even happened yet.

F dwarfs.


----------



## Amblin (May 8, 2002)

Amblin in: It isn't till after I get to rest, and dream again and again of my foot crushing the babies head into the mothers chest. She was feeding her baby in her house, and we broke in ahd killed them all. Yeah I have issues with this that will come to play later. After the dreams. Amblin out


----------



## Rybaer (May 9, 2002)

Amblin said:
			
		

> *Amblin in: It isn't till after I get to rest, and dream again and again of my foot crushing the babies head into the mothers chest. She was feeding her baby in her house, and we broke in ahd killed them all. Yeah I have issues with this that will come to play later. After the dreams. Amblin out *






The introduction of infant ogres was intentional on two levels.  First, I wanted to give this place more of a tribal home feel.  This is where they slept, ate, and reared their young.  Second, I was curious to see how they dealt with innocent "monsters" on an ethical/moral level.  They handled it pretty much as expected - kill the adults outright, and then kill the infants and deal with the ethical issues when it was safe to do so.

I had allowed some latitude for them to deal with the ogres by way of negotiation or bribery.  The ogres, after all, lived in fear of certain other residents of the ruins.  With some creative diplomacy or promises, they could have gotten through this section without bloodshed.  Not easy, granted, but possible.  On the other hand, the characters had no way of knowing that the ogres were in no way connected with the "trapped dwarves."


----------



## Rybaer (May 10, 2002)

Session #12.7 – Of ogres and doors


They moved back to the T-intersection and watched down the hall, weapons ready. Amblin activated the Expeditious Retreat feature on his boots and zipped down to the end of the hallway to peek back around the corner. What he saw was an ogre half again the size of any other he'd ever seen charging his direction. The ogre was foaming at the mouth, snarling, and waving a massive greatsword about convincingly. Amblin also caught a glimpse of another ogre in the room at the end of the hall. The monk ducked back around the corner and waited for the ogre to come into view, planning to get a quick surprise hit in on him. The ogre, moving rather quickly Amblin noted, soon charged around the corner and Amblin kicked him hard in the waist. The monster glared down at the comparatively puny human and swung his sword hard. It missed by a mere fraction of an inch and took a good chunk of rock out of the wall. Realizing that a direct hit could have clove him in two, Amblin retreated back to the others. 

As the monk led the ogre down the hall, Nigel lobbed arrows and the others used whatever ranged weapons they had at hand. Rurik set himself squarely in the middle of the hall, Sleet comfortably at the ready. Zalman unleashed a bolt of lightning and nearly hit Amblin - overlooking the fact that the monk was also in the line of the blast as he was so focused on the ogre (or so he claimed). The ogre took a mighty pounding before wading into their midst. 

In the tight quarters of the hallway intersection, the fighting was fierce.  Rurik slashed the brute with Sleet, a fine sprinkling of snowflakes trailing behind the axe and melting on the floor.  The ogre, for all the abuse it took, only became more enraged.  It laid into Nigel with its full weight behind the massive greatsword.  Two deep cuts were made across the archer's chest and legs.  Nigel didn't have time to draw his flaming longsword so he merely stepped back and fired arrows at point blank range, enduring another blow in the process that dropped him to his knees.  Zalman unleashed magic missiles from his wand and Bommer jabbed his shortsword into the ogre's shoulder from his hiding spot near the ceiling.  While the ogre's fury was palpable, he simply didn't have enough blood left in his body to keep fighting any longer. 

"There's at least one more down there," Amblin said, already running back down the hallway.  Everyone else was calling for him to wait up so as not to split up the group.  The monk chose not to hear them very well. 

Rurik hurried to Nigel's side and called upon Moradin to heal up his friend.  In the meantime, Bommer and Zalman started down the hallway a bit slower than Amblin (who was already around the corner).  When the sound of fighting ahead came to them, Zalman paused long enough to summon a celestial dire ape that he urged off ahead. 

Amblin had rounded the corner and found a pair of ogres waiting.  A young male ogre was brandishing a longsword.  He looked much smarter and more calculating than the previous one - and about half the size as well.  The other ogre was a female who hefted a greatclub with ease. 

The monk brashly engaged the young male and hit him easily.  The ogre retaliated with a nasty swipe from his sword, biting deeply into his side (crit).  Amblin chose to keep fighting, kicking and hitting the large target several times.  He noticed that while he was doing this, the female seemed to be casting a spell.  Amblin really started to hope that his companions were close behind him.  When her casting was complete, she stepped forward and touched Amblin with her bare hand.  He felt magical energy course through him, but he was able to shrug off the effects of whatever she had tried to cast.  Her attack, however, was enough of a distraction to allow the opportunistic male to sneak attack Amblin (and crit, again).  The suprised monk looked down at the sword that was piercing his gut.  "That's not good," he thought to himself as he struggled to maintain consciousness. 

Zalman and Bommer hurried down the hall behind the dire ape.  Nigel, once healed up, joined the pursuit with Rurik.  By the time they rounded the turn in the hall, Amblin was already lying in a pool of his own blood.  The dire ape had engaged the ogres in a furious battle near the far end of the hall. 

Zalman and Nigel opened up with magic missiles and arrows while Rurik and Bommer sought to get position from which they could assist the ape.  The male ogre fell quickly and the female, who tried to cast a couple defensive spells, dropped soon after. 

All the bodies were looted (a small sprinkling of magic items on the three) and the remaining rooms on this end of the complex were examined.  Most of the side rooms were unoccupied sleeping quarters.  The sound that Amblin had heard earlier was the ocean.  A narrow crack in the wall of one room exposed the side of the cliff about a hundred feet over the crashing waves.  There appeared to be no more ogres, though judging by the number of sleeping quarters there was a good chance that not all of them had been present during the group's incursion. 

Rurik found that Amblin, by virtue of some miracle, was not yet dead (last fate point).  He healed him as best he could and then declared that he was running out of divine power for the day.  Zalman still had quite a few spells in reserve, but agreed that without much healing magic left they should rest and recover. 

Posting watches, they took up residence in the room with the crack overlooking the ocean.  It had the freshest air of any room they'd found down in the ruins.  They also felt that it was fairly defensible should any more ogres come to offer challenge.  Zalman called Hooty over to the crack and pulled him through it on his staff.  Amblin curled up with his dog and slept hard.  Luck was with them and they were not interrupted during their rest.



Next session:  Open the door already!


----------



## Zalman (May 10, 2002)

"Zalman unleashed a bolt of lightning and nearly hit Amblin - overlooking the fact that the monk was also in the line of the blast as he was so focused on the ogre (or so he claimed). "

Well, truth be known, we game late at night, I dozed off, woke up for the fight and neglected to fully assess the situation before I began my spell-slinging. (luckily Amblin's Reflex save was very good)  

Amblin, I think, learned a little about sprinting off.  He's fast and that has been a big strong suit, but this time it was his demise.  I think he has stayed within reach lately.


----------



## Rybaer (May 10, 2002)

Yes, this was one of those classic DM paybacks for players not paying attention.  

DM: "Zalman, what are you doing?"

Zalman: "Uh, I'll lightning bolt the bad guy."

DM: <grins>  "What's the save DC on that?"

Zalman: "Let's see...uh, 17."

DM: "Amblin, make a Reflex save, DC17."

Zalman: "What!?"

DM: "Yeah, see here...Amblin is all kinds of in the way of your lightning bolt."

Zalman: "Oops."

Amblin: "Yeah, oops.  Better hope I make this."


I wasn't too worried about it.  After all, Amblin's a monk with a fantastic reflex save and would take no damage if he made it (which he did).  It was worth a laugh from everyone, if nothing else.


----------



## Zalman (May 11, 2002)

I think Amblin has always felt my spells would be his ultimate demise.  That's just silly, I'd never do anything to hurt him... unless it was my last ditch effort to save myself and others... but that is a few sessions away.

hee, hee...


----------



## Rurik (May 13, 2002)

After the fight with the mind flayer, taking Zalmans body bach down to the burial chamber was one of the hardest thing I have ever had to do.  I was not yet powerful enough to bring him back my self.  I knew I needed to find help.  My only option was to beg the specters ("beg" being a loose term...I am a dwarf, after all) for help or guidance.  When they presented me with the scroll of resurection, I was honored to be the one to actually bring him back...or try.I was willing to forgo any other gifts for this one.

When the minotaur kings offered us all an artifact anyways, well, there was no hesitation at all for me.  That beautiful axe was literaly calling my name.  As I hefted it, and it revealed itsself to me, I felt like I had found a piece of me that had been missing my entire life. I couldn't wait to try it out.

Soon after, I got to.

The barbarian, rouge, and cleric ogres where a knew one to all of us.  I had never heard of ogres being this specialized.  All other ogres or orcs or goblins or whatever we had fought had been fairly generic.  I made me have to think a little more and take into consideration the potential of all monsters.

The baby ogres also posed a different situation.  I didn't have a problen with it at all, I just said it was different.  They were ogres...big, little, old, young, male, female...its all the same, they must die.


----------



## Rybaer (May 13, 2002)

Session #12.8 - Yet another stairwell 


Everyone was relieved that no more ogres had returned to the complex to harass them while they rested.  Or, if any had returned, they might have made a hasty retreat upon discovering the slaughtered bodies of the other ogres that littered the hallways.  With everyone fully rested and healed, they were ready to resume exploring the ruins of Kladish. 

Getting through the heavy stone door bearing Moradin's symbol was their next goal.  It was also their next problem.  Four iron beams, 6"x6"x10', barred the door shut.  Supporting these beams on either side were stacks of flat stone slabs, each about 4' square and 8" thick.  Both the stone slabs and the iron bars were too large and heavy for them to move.  The group discussed various options and got into some heated discussions over physics, engineering, stonework, and so on.  (Zalman had studied architecture and engineering, while Rurik was well versed in stonework.)  Literally, over an hour went by before a majority vote favored one approach to getting through the barricade: 

Zalman would place his staff vertically against the four iron bars and render it immobile, thereby holding them roughly in place.  Rurik would then cast Stone Shape to fashion the bottom-most stone slab on either side of the door into a wedge facing away.  Standing well out of the way, Zalman would give the command word to release his staff, which would then be quickly jerked away with the rope tied to it.  In theory, the stacks would come tumbling down away from the door and hopefully land far enough away to allow them to open it. 

Theory, in this case, worked out passably.  The stack collapsed with a horrible crash as Zalman's staff was pulled free.  When the dust settled, they found that there was a little over a foot of clear space in front of the door.  It would be a tough squeeze for Rurik, but otherwise all could fit.  (Two hours of game time later, they got through this one obstacle.) 

Bommer checked the door for traps (finding none) and then Rurik confirmed that there were enchantments upon it.  As the cleric opened the door, Zalman started chuckling.  Everyone faced the wizard, wondering what was so humorous. 

"You know," Zalman said.  "I could have just summoned a thoqua above the top iron bar.  It would have melted clean through all four bars in no time and left little mess in the way."  The stunned expressions on everyone's faces ranged from fury to frustration to humor. 

"Yeah, thanks for coming up with that clever idea NOW," Nigel said.  Everyone else took their perfunctory jabs at Zalman and then prepared for what was beyond the door that had been such an ordeal to get to. 

Beyond the heavy stone door was a wide stairwell leading down into darkness.  Amblin took the lead with Bommer while the others followed a short distance back.  The stairwell was well worked stone, but a number of cracks revealed the age of the place.  Some cracks were wide enough to force them to step carefully over them.  The stairwell continued downward, winding back and forth at a series of landings.  At each landing, the scout team would wait for the others to come back into sight before pressing on. 

About a hundred and fifty feet down, Amblin and Bommer found a rather wide crack in the middle of a flight of stairs.  It was nearly three feet across and extended through the walls and ceilings.  While they waited at the landing for the others, Bommer thought he could faintly hear something up ahead.  It sounded sort of squishy.

"What's the hold up?" Nigel asked when they reached Amblin and Bommer. 

"Big crack," Bommer said.  "You'll have to be careful." 

"Is it structurally sound?" Nigel asked. 

Rurik gave the surrounding walls a quick examination.  "Good dwarven construction," he said.  "Of course it’s sound.  It's so old that some seismic activity is understandable.  Just watch around the edge of the crack for loose rock." 

Amblin led the way down the stairs.  He was the first to discover the huge black pudding that was waiting for them in the crack when a long, black gelatinous tentacle reached out for him.  The monk's reflexes were good, though, and he deftly dodged the swipe.  Not one to hesitate, Amblin leapt down the stairs and over the crack.  He easily cleared the full thirty feet to the next landing and avoided yet another swipe by the pudding while he was airborne. 

"Is it clear down there?" Nigel called to Amblin.  The monk looked down the next flight of stairs and replied that it was empty as best he could tell.  With Bommer wrapped around his shoulders, Nigel also leapt over the pudding before it could completely bubble up out of the crack.  Rurik and Zalman, along with Amblin's dog Moltar, were stuck on the higher platform and fully separated from the others. 

Not knowing any better, Rurik stepped down the stairs and took a whack with Sleet at the gooey black mass that was filling the staircase.  The axe sliced cleanly through the pudding, cleaving it in two.  Much to his dismay, however, the two halves were still very much alive.  Zalman, who was dredging up what lore he had read on such creatures from the back of his mind, was amazed that Rurik's axe hadn't dissolved in the powerful acid these creatures were known to excrete.  The young wizard started shouting out factoids - such as its ability to split, its resistance to most forms of physical attack, and its highly acidic nature.  The party was now fully split so they couldn't just retreat. 

Rurik retreated back up the stairs, narrowly avoiding a couple swipes from the pudding.  Zalman summoned a patch of Glue on the creature to try to hold it in place (with mixed results).  He then urged Nigel to hit one of the two puddings with a couple arrows. 

"Won't that just make more of em?" Nigel called back as he strung his bow. 

"Yeah, that's the idea!" Zalman called back.  Nigel shrugged and fired a pair of arrows into one of the oozes.  Where each arrow sliced through it, the pudding parted and split into new smaller oozes.  Zalman positioned himself at a bit of an angle and then unleashed a wide lightning bolt from his wand at the smaller three oozes.  Two were burnt to cinders and the other was looking a bit crunchy even if it could still move. 

Nigel and Zalman repeated the process with the largest remaining ooze and two more lightning bolts later all the black puddings were destroyed.  With the threat eliminated, the group rejoined at the bottom of the stairs.  Zalman gave a more detailed explanation of black puddings and other oozes.  Rurik was a bit weak in the knees when he realized just how close he’d come to losing his brand new axe Sleet by directly attacking the creature.  Zalman complimented Nigel on how their combination of tactics had quickly and efficiently slain a dangerous monster.

Back in the lead, Amblin and Bommer led the group down another couple flights of stairs until they reached a heavy stone door.  It was untrapped, unlocked, and had no detectable magical aura.  Bommer could faintly hear something beyond, but it was a pretty steady noise – likely something ambient.

The door opened into a large chamber littered with the debris of ages of neglect.  Stone slabs from the high ceiling had crashed into the stone floor.  Dust lay thick everywhere.  The sound Bommer had heard was more distinct now, that of a waterfall somewhere in the distance.  Trying to maintain some semblance of stealth, they slowly walked across the room and around an L-shaped bend.  

At the far end of the room was an open doorway some ten feet high and fifteen wide.  The sound of water crashing was louder here, and the way it echoed hinted at a chamber of enormous size.  Even those with good darkvision could scarcely make out the sides of the room on either side and the ceiling was lost in the shadowy heights.

They slowly entered the room, careful to stick close together.  To either side were a number of doors set in regular intervals.  Many were open or broken.  A ramp led to a walkway above the doors on the “ground” floor and revealed another set of doors running the length of the room.

“I think this would be the living quarters,” Rurik said.

“Maybe it’s just me,” said Bommer.  “But I don’t think there’s been anyone living here for quite some time.”



Next session:  Exploring the ruins and the temple of Moraein.


----------



## Zalman (May 14, 2002)

I had one of those occurrences where the person PLAYING Zalman was thinking of how to get through the doors instead of letting Zalman figure out how.  I resorted to engineering, physics, blah, blah, blah while Zalman would have just melted the metal away.  Oh well, we got through.  I was exceptionally happy with our efforts to get past the pudding.  I had visions of Rurik losing his armor and axe and Amblin getting terribly wounded trying to punch it.  The cavern downstairs is just immense.  We couldn’t see the walls or the ceiling.  There were rows and rows of doors lining the walls on multiple levels.   Yeah, definitely a huge apartment complex.


----------



## Lazybones (May 17, 2002)

Hey guys...

For a while your new thread was on my "meaning to read list," but I never seemed to have the time to get to it.  Finally today I had a long, boring, all-day commission meeting to attend, so I printed out the entire thread in small font, slipped it into my action binder, and brought it with me.  

Thanks for keeping the oppressive hand of boredom at bay for another workday.  I really enjoyed the new directions the story is taking in the new thread.  I thought that the undead mind flayer and the magical gifts from the ghost minotaurs were nice touches.  And Rybaer's storytelling skills keep getting better all the time.  Looks like you guys have a really great gaming group--here's hoping your adventures continue here on the board for a long while in the future.

Cheers,
LB


----------



## Zalman (May 17, 2002)

Thanks, Lazybones.  We do have a lot of fun.  Rurik and I have been friends for 15 years, add two more friends that have been around about 9 years (Nigel and Amblin) and the other three are buddies with me at work from the last 2-3 years (Rybaer, Bommer, Amil).  Rybaer puts a lot of time in preparing for the games and you have obviously read how well it goes.

We are currently planning on a little side adventure.  Kind of a break after a new turning point in this story.  We are all going to be Evil 14th level Halflings or Gnomes.  I hope Rybaer plans on posting this one too.  It should be very funny.


----------



## Rybaer (May 17, 2002)

Lazybones said:
			
		

> *
> And Rybaer's storytelling skills keep getting better all the time.  Looks like you guys have a really great gaming group--here's hoping your adventures continue here on the board for a long while in the future.
> *





Why thank you.  I'm glad I could contribute in some small way to helping you through a dull meeting.  It makes it all worthwhile!  Just wish I could read posts through my meetings...

As for how long this story hour will last...well, let's just say that things don't go particularly well for the group from here on out.  They have their good moments, along with some truly ugly ones.  At the very least, the players went out of their way to make sure there's some good posting material.  I've got probably another dozen posts to write to catch up with where the game is currently at.  

As Zalman mentioned, I'm going to try running a one-shot episode (over several nights, I'm sure) with the guys playing evil halflings or gnomes.  I've never run an evil party, so it should be an adventure.  The ground rules I layed out were pretty simple:

1.  Must be under 3' tall (gnome or halfling).
2.  Must be eeeevil (not just evil).
3.  Must speak with an outrageous accent.
4.  Must be stylishly evil - no ho-hum evil allowed.

I've already named their group the Kneebiters.  I only wish I was playing a character for one simple reason - to be able to scream out the battlecry "Eat Ass Do-Gooders!"

As to whether the Kneebiters ever get posted or not, well, that all depends on what rating of eeeevil they stoop to.  Gotta keep this a clean, family show.  In the meantime, it'll give me a couple more weeks in which to try to get caught up with the regular Aftermath crew's postings.


----------



## Rybaer (May 19, 2002)

Session #12.9 - The Lower Residence Hall 


The group continued to explore what appeared to be a massive complex of living quarters.  The dwellings, carved into the stone walls, showed every indication of having been abandoned ages ago. 

Signs of seismic damage were pervasive.  Several of the "side" halls were blocked off by cave-ins.  Wide crevasses cut across the broad square in the center of the complex with several small waterfalls spilling over into their inky depths.  They crossed one of the crevasses to continue exploring the far side. 

Zalman volunteered to help speed up the searching process.  He cast Fly upon himself and slipped on the pair of Darkvision goggles that Amblin had been borrowing.  As he flew across the chamber, staying within sight of one of the walls at all times, Zalman found that much of the central "town square" was under water.  A huge waterfall fed into the pools from a high dark corner.  The pools, in turn, fed into the smaller waterfalls that spilled into the crevasses.  In the center of the pool was a massive statue of a dwarven warrior - likely a depiction of some hero or Moradin, Zalman supposed. 

On one side of the town square was a pair of enormous and elaborate double doors.  Moradin's symbol was broadly emblazoned across them.  The ramp leading up to them had long since been reduced to a slope of rubble, but the doors themselves seemed intact.  Before continuing to explore further, Zalman decided to bring the good news to Rurik that he'd found an apparent temple to Moradin. 

On the way back, he caught a glimpse of movement in the water near the statue.  Several vaguely humanoid creatures were moving slowly and carefully through the pool toward the others.  Flying in a wide arc around the newcomers, Zalman quickly reached the others and warned them to get ready for company.  They briefly considered fleeing back across the chasm but decided that time was not in their favor if the others chose to charge them.  The chasm was wide enough that only Amblin with his supernatural jumping ability could clear it without Zalman's help.  So they held their ground with weapons drawn. 

As soon as the leading trio of these creatures came into view, it became everyone's opinion that they were not going to be friendly.  They were approximately the size and build of dwarves, but had the gaunt pallor of undead about them.  Perplexingly, two of the three appeared to be partly constructed of mechanical components - metal jaws and arms, bits of wire and exposed gears, all quite unnatural. 

When the leading undead closed a bit closer, the two with mechanical bits both opened their jaws and unleashed wide gouts of flame.  Several were unprepared for that surprise and got singed.  Moltar, Amblin's pet dog, lost most of its fur and was badly burned.  Overwhelming even the smell of burning dog hair was the nauseating stench of decaying flesh.  Yup, the group thought, definitely undead. 

Amblin spring attacked one, landing a solid hit into its metal-plated chest that it seemed to largely shrug off.  Nigel pumped a couple electrically charged arrows into another.  Zalman saw a couple more ghouls coming up behind the first trio, so he held back just a moment before launching a fireball into their midst.  The non-mechanized ones dropped and their half-machine counterparts were badly scorched.  Rurik then stepped forward and tried something he hadn't done in a long while - he boldly presented the symbol of Moradin that was emblazoned upon his shield and channeled pure holy energy through it.  He was shocked when two of the ghasts were vaporized and another started to shy away from his presence.  Bommer tumbled in to slash the remaining one with his twin short swords and Nigel finished it off with another pair of arrows. 

The fight had been almost too quick, and the group was worried that there might be more of these things wandering about the ruins.  When Zalman told them about the temple, Rurik insisted that they all go check that out next.  Amblin managed to convince him to pause just long enough to heal Moltar first.  At Rurik's touch, the dog popped back up and started wagging its tail enthusiastically.  Unfortunately, the dog still looked pretty pathetic with only a few clumps of charred fur left on its body. 

They quietly entered the temple and found it to be in poor condition.  Part of the left wall of the worship hall had collapsed and the rest of the chamber was littered with debris and dust.  Several side passages led off the main chamber.  One of these led to a series of small rooms that had only a few worthless trinkets.  Judging by the smell, the ghouls and ghasts had likely made this their lair. 

Through the doors in the back of the temple, they found another series of rooms that included a library and several other rooms for study and private meditation.  After five thousand years of abandonment, however, there was little left of any use or interest.  The library shelves held little more than the dust of long-gone tomes.  On the back corner of one shelf, however, was a loose stack of paper-thin metal pages.  Gently, Rurik poked through these and found that they were some manner of religious texts, a narrative history, written in the same ancient dwarven as the book the Shadow had stolen.  Not wanting to risk damage to the loose pages, Rurik decided to leave them here for future recovery. 

Bommer and Nigel gave all of the rooms in this wing a thorough examination and found that there was a concealed door in the back of the library.  It revealed only a tiny study with desk and chair.  On the top of the desk, sitting amidst the dust of long lost books, was a small silver flask.  Rurik noted that it was of simple yet elegant craftsmanship.  The cap had a fantastic seal and, to everyone's amazement, there was still liquid within.  Rurik unscrewed the cap and took a whiff of fine dwarven spirits.  He took one swallow and approved of the contents.  The rest was stored carefully away in his pack for later use. 

The rest of the temple appeared to be empty so they continued their exploration of the living quarters.  Zalman started to make a circuit of the room when he found a mound of debris in the water of a dead end and just above it was hanging rope that disappeared in the darkness far above.  He brought the others over to look at it and they found it a bit out of place.  The pile in the water was comprised mostly of cleanly gnawed bones of a wide variety of creatures.  The group discussed it for a bit and then decided to finish inspecting this chamber first before checking on where the rope led. 

The rest of the living quarters was mostly uninteresting - several dead ends along with many more of the same apartment style residences.  Down one wing, closer to the end where they'd entered, they found that a cave in had buried what appeared to be a smaller hallway leading out of the living quarters.  Zalman suggested that he could summon a thoqqua to melt through the rubble so they could find out what was on the other side.  They discussed the matter and decided to let Zalman check on the rope first. 

Back at the pile of bones, Zalman flew up alongside the rope.  The ceiling to the residence quarters was easily a hundred and fifty feet up.  The rope led up through a crack that was about ten feet long and three feet wide in the middle.  Zalman could hear nothing, so he silently floated up through the hole.  He found himself inside a largish circular room with stone pillars around its circumference supporting a domed ceiling.  A set of double doors was the only exit.  The rope from below was looped over a small wood structure and tied to a large bronze bell.  Zalman made a mental note to tell the others that pulling on or climbing the rope would probably be a bad thing. 

Zalman made a quick circuit of the room and found little else of interest.  At the double doors, he lowered himself to the floor and peered underneath.  A very faint reddish-orange light flickered through the crack.  Remembering the large red dragon scale he'd found in one of the nearby caves, Zalman started to get a bit nervous.  He summoned a small air elemental and instructed it to fly through the crack under the door, go as far as it could in a ten-count, then return and report what it saw.  The elemental obeyed and Zalman listened intently at the door.  Only a few seconds after the elemental departed, the wizard heard shouts raised from somewhere in the vicinity.  They were too muffled to understand, but he was fairly sure that someone had spotted the elemental.  Mere moments later a loud, sustained ripping concussion drowned out the shouting voices.  If Zalman had tried his hardest to imagine what a red dragon's flame breath would have sounded like, he could not have conceived of something so disturbing and terrifying.  Before the sound even ceased, Zalman had dove headfirst back down through the crack in the floor. 

The others became alarmed when they saw how fast Zalman was coming back to them and from the expression on his face.  "I highly recommend we leave," Zalman said.  "Now." 

They pressed Zalman for details as he urged them away from the rope.  "I didn't see anything," he said.  "There's a room up there.  The rope connects to a bell.  I sent an air elemental under a door to explore and then I heard voices yelling.  After that...well, I heard something that I can only guess was our neighborhood dragon vaporizing it." 

"Can the dragon even get down here?" Bommer asked. 

"Well, the crack in the ceiling wasn't very big, but some dragons can polymorph and such," Zalman said.  "I'd rather not wait around to find out if this one can." 

"Where to then?" Nigel asked.  "We can go back upstairs, check the pile of rubble, or hide down here." 

They talked it over quickly and decided to let Zalman summon a thoqqua to melt through the rubble near the buried hallway.  If it looked promising, they'd try exploring that way next.  If not, they'd retreat and come up with something else. 

At the pile, Zalman summoned the thoqua and sent it through the pile and down the buried hallway.  They watched the dull glow of its red-hot body receding as it melted a narrow tube through the rock.  When it finally disappeared, turned around, and started back, they estimated that the tunnel was nearly a hundred feet long.  The thoqqua disappeared shortly after that. 

"Well, it's too narrow for any of us aside from possibly Bommer to climb through," Rurik said.  "Not to mention that it's probably a bit toasty." 

"Can you summon any more of those things, Zalman?" Nigel asked. 

"Not without some more time to study," he said.  "I could produce one more, but we'd probably need at least two to make it wide enough." 

They discussed their options and, at Rurik's insistence, they agreed to get some rest in the temple of Moradin.  They settled down in the study quarters and took turns standing guard in the chapel itself.  During a couple of the watches, they heard a rhythmic sound from outside the temple doors.  It would rise and fade a few times and then depart completely.  No one dared to go investigate it.  Other than that, they were able to rest without interruption.  Rurik offered his thanks to Moradin and promised to return to the temple and consecrate the grounds once his quest was resolved.


Next session:  The refinery, the vault, and the CCC's.


----------



## Zalman (May 21, 2002)

Awfully ballsy for someone who was just raised from the dead, if you ask me.  Flying around by myself SCOUTING?!?!!  I did it in the name of hurrying-things-up-a-bit.  As Rybaer said, the rope was attached to a bell.  One thing he left out was I disconnected the clapper from the bell so that if one of my buddies below decided to climb up the bell wouldn't :::BONG::: on me.

The tempo of the game was really increasing at this point.  We had all taken on a "go-go-go" mentality.  I think we all wanted to get Rurik's mission over with and get the heck out of here.


----------



## Rybaer (May 21, 2002)

Zalman said:
			
		

> *As Rybaer said, the rope was attached to a bell.  One thing he left out was I disconnected the clapper from the bell so that if one of my buddies below decided to climb up the bell wouldn't :::BONG::: on me.
> *





Thought going through DM's head:
"Pull the rope!  Come on!  I double-dog dare ya!"

*sigh*


----------



## Dyme (May 24, 2002)

> Thought going through DM's head:
> "Pull the rope! Come on! I double-dog dare ya!"




We're stupid, but we're not _that_ stupid.


----------



## Amill (Jun 11, 2002)

*quiet*

Well, a few setbacks and a new quest for evil and now nobody wants to post to this story thread  The kneebiters are ok but I hope we get back to this campaign once we get rolling again. Just my two cents. Think how devious B is going to be after he gets back with a fresh perspective...


----------



## clockworkjoe (Jun 16, 2002)

I just caught up with this story hour and looking forward to reading the next installments.


----------



## Amill (Jun 18, 2002)

*hmmm*



			
				clockworkjoe said:
			
		

> *I just caught up with this story hour and looking forward to reading the next installments. *




me too!


----------



## Rybaer (Jun 19, 2002)

Yeah, another posting will be along shortly.  I'm halfway done with it.  Got sidetracked by my wedding and honeymoon.


----------



## Amill (Jun 19, 2002)

*yeah*



			
				Rybaer said:
			
		

> *Yeah, another posting will be along shortly.  I'm halfway done with it.  Got sidetracked by my wedding and honeymoon. *




Like that's an acceptable excuse  Good to see B made it back though. Hope everything went well. Oh, yeah, forgot, congratulations!!!


----------



## Dyme (Jun 24, 2002)

First off... Many props and congrats to Rybaer and the-now Mrs. Rybaer. I had the honor and pleasure of attending the ceremony and must say, it was one of those weddings where you say to yourself and everyone around you, "This is pretty kool." Everyone around me agreed.

Of course, "everyone around me" was (the players of) Zalman, Rurik, Amblin, and Bommer (Amill was at a different table). On top of that, we all forgot our dice, so, by default, we all failed our saves vs. happiness and glee.  

Soooo... The RL events of the past few weeks and the events of the campaign have led to a lack of updates for a while. There are some major events coming up. 

Have faith, constant reader... the best has yet to come.

Right, Rybaer?


----------



## Rybaer (Jul 6, 2002)

At long last, the next session is ready.  Somehow, in the midst of NWN and Warcraft3 being just released, I found a few minutes to finish up the entry I started some six weeks ago.



Session #12.10 - The Refinery 


After a quiet rest in the crumbled remains of the temple of Moradin, the group was ready to continue their exploration of the ruins of Kladish - some more enthusiatically than others were. They crossed the pools and crevasses of the central plaza and found the hole that Zalman's summoned thoqua had created in the buried hallway. The wizard summoned two more thoquas to widen the passage into a respectable crawl space. They waited a short while for the molten rock to cool and then headed through. 

Amblin, the quickest of the group, led the way. At the far end of the tunnel, he found another corridor of massive proportions. It was sixty feet wide and the ceiling and far end disappeared out of sight in the darkness. Considerable portions of the walls had collapsed, filling the passageway with boulders and rubble. It was deafeningly silent. 

The others soon joined Amblin and they carefully set off. Along this passage, they found a series of rooms - Rurik guessed that it had been some manner of guildhall or place of business. Now, it housed loose rubble and the crumbled remains of ancient furnishings. 

A short distance further down the main corridor, a similar wide passage split off to the right. This secondary hallway descended at a gentle slope into darkness. They took a quick vote and decided to check down the sloping passage before continuing on down the main hallway. 

The side passage opened after a short distance upon a massive chamber full of oversized vessels and piping. Rurik quickly concluded that this was a smelting chamber for the refining of ore. Enormous smelters sat cold in several niches around the room. By flipping a couple levers, they found that the smelters would begin to heat themselves magically. Rurik was impressed. 

Around the room were stacks of raw iron ingots, half rusted with age. Cooling racks were left abandoned. Carts full of crushed ore were covered in dust. A water tank was positioned in the center of the room, elevated about ten feet off the floor. A network of pipes branched off of it to various spigots around the room. 

While the paraphernalia of the refinery was impressive - at least to Rurik - there was little of any use to the party in this room. It was clear that it had been hastily abandoned eons ago. There were a few doors leading off the main shop floor, however, which warranted further investigation. 

Through one set of these doors, they found a series of low-ceilinged hallways and rooms. They appeared to be a mix of offices, meeting rooms, tool shops, and perhaps a small cafeteria. A few of the tools might one day be serviceable again, but otherwise there was little of interest in here. 

Through another door on the other side of the shop, they found something a bit more interesting. Another couple offices were linked together, but at the far end of one room was a heavy steel door...which looked suspiciously like a vault. The door itself had been forcibly broken and it hung limply open. The vault beyond was little more than a modest-sized room with steel lined ceiling, floor, and walls. It was also empty. 

Bommer and Nigel quickly set to inspecting the walls for secret passages, but it was Zalman who found the first hint of one. With his magic crown's ability to allow him to detect magic, he pinpointed an emanation from a small spot on one of the vault's side walls. Zalman directed Bommer to the spot and the halfling was finally able to discern the location of a concealed latch in the joints between two steel plates. Bommer marveled at the craftsmanship and admitted that he'd have never found it without the wizard's direction. 

"Dwarven craftsmanship," Rurik said.  "Halfling proof."

Between Bommer's inspection and Zalman's studying of the magic emanation, they concluded that it was most likely a trap. Zalman tried casting Dispell Magic upon it, but was unable to suppress the spell. Given that this was a secret door in a vault, the group was willing to risk a little to get through it. Rurik stepped up and offered to open the door. If it required a cleric's touch to safely open, he was the only logical choice. Besides, he was the keenest on seeing what was on the other side. 

Bommer explained the latch to Rurik and then retreated to the next room with the others. Rurik took a deep breath and grabbed the latch. A furious blast of cold exploded from the secret door and numbed the dwarf to the bone. His skin was instantly frostbitten and ice clung to his beard. What really peeved Rurik, though, was that he'd lost focus when the blast came out and he had failed to flip the latch all the way open. 

The others hurried to the cursing dwarf's aid, careful not to slip on the frosty steel floor of the vault. Rurik cast a curative spell on himself while growling at the door. Amblin offered to take the next shot at the door. He pointed out that he had very good reflexes and an innate resistance to cold temperatures, courtesy of drawing the Penguin from the magical Totemic Deck all those months back. No one disagreed and again they retreated back to the next room. 

In spite of his nimble reflexes, Amblin still caught a bit of the cold blast that came out of the door when he flipped the latch. His resistance to the biting cold helped, though, and he was able to maintain his concentration through the effect. The secret door swung easily open and revealed a short passage to a smaller steel-lined vault. 

Most of the group piled into the smaller vault to inspect the contents while Nigel held back and kept an eye on the door leading to the refinery. The only contents of the room were two wooden chests, each about three feet wide but made in distinctly different styles. Bommer inspected both and concluded that, while locked, neither appeared to be trapped. Zalman detected magic emanating from one of the boxes, but he suspected it was something inside the box rather than a magical trap. 

Bommer picked the lock on the non-magical trap and opened the lid. Six small bars of pure but unworked mithril rested in the bottom of the chest. Rurik's heart skipped a beat as he realized what they were. Not a lot of raw material, he thought, but certainly enough out of which to make a couple fine weapons. 

While Rurik's drool collected in his beard, Zalman nodded at Bommer to go ahead and open the next chest. This second box had a worn black velvet lining. Sitting in two depressions in the lining was a pair of silverish metallic cubes, both some six inches on a side. On each face of the cubes a rune of unknown design was inscribed. Zalman's crown indicated that they were of moderate magical power. 

The wizard leaned over to begin studying, but was immediately knocked backward when the two cubes launched themselves out of the box.  In the small, steel-lined vault, the sound of the heavy metal cubes ricocheting off the walls and ceiling was deafening.  They seemed to fly in a completely erratic fashion and at an alarming speed.  As everyone dove for cover, the cubes' real fireworks kicked in.

Every few seconds, each cube unleashed a magical blast or cone or ray of some sort at the nearest moving target: a cone of fire at Amblin; a crackling yellow beam that depleted Rurik's strength; a column of electricity at Zalman and Bommer.  The effects were as rapid-fire as they were bizarre.

Bommer and Amblin retreated back to the main vault, meeting up with Nigel who was coming to investigate the horrible clanking noise.  Switching to his longsword, Nigel connected with one of the cubes that followed them, but found that his blade had little effect.  Amblin bravely tried to grapple the cube to the ground, but got a point blank blast of caustic black acid for his efforts and lost his grip.  The cube pinged around the main vault a couple more times and unleashed a rust-red cloud of vapor that induced dizziness and confusion.  Dragging one another, Nigel, Amblin, and Bommer all made it out of the vault and closed the door most of the way - trying to keep the cube inside the room.  There they wrestled with whether to go back in after Zalman and Rurik, neither of whom had made it out of the secret vault.

Zalman was screaming at Rurik to leave the chest of mithril behind while ducking the second cube still trapped in the smaller vault with the pair.  The cube unleashed a wave of liquid that had all the appearance and qualities of mucus, coating everything and everyone in the room in slippery slime.  The weakened dwarf found it nearly impossible to get a good grip on the heavy chest with the mithril, but was unwilling to leave it behind.  Zalman stood over the stubborn dwarf and focused long enough to conjure a Shield that he positioned as best he could to negate the bouncing cube and its effects.  The cube unleashed a stream of decaying vegetable matter that splattered across Zalman's invisible barrier - the stench of which, however, had some sleep inducing effect.  Both were able to shrug off the sleepiness.

Zalman blasted the cube with Magic Missiles.  The cube was knocked aside by the impact but continued to bounce around the small chamber with reckless abandon.  Zalman then tried a different approach and conjured a patch of Glue on the ceiling.  Within moments, the cube connected with the Glue patch and managed to get completely stuck.  It launched one more attack at Zalman and Rurik, a concussive blast of cold, and then went inert.

In the outer vault, at nearly that exact same moment, the others watched as the first cube also went inert.  It clattered to the floor, silent and motionless.  Amblin cautiously entered and, ignoring the cube, hurried to check on Zalman and Rurik.  He found the pair burned, frozen, and covered in slime and rotting vegetation.  On the upside, however, they were alive.

No one in the group had escaped the encounter unscathed.  Rurik, with help, managed to drag the chest of mithril out of the secondary vault.  Zalman, just before leaving, decided to take the chest that the cubes had been found in.  Nigel kicked the one cube into the smaller chamber with the other and closed the secret door on them.  While Rurik healed the worst of their injuries, Zalman inspected the chest.

Underneath the velvet lining, the wizard found a small instruction manual of sorts.  His crown allowed him to read the otherwise unknown language it had been written in.  The cubes, apparently, were called Chatterhorm's Chaos Cubes.  He carefully perused the manual and found command words for proper activation and deactivation.  He also learned that Chatterhorm, as a defensive measure, had rigged them to activate within ten seconds of the chest being opened if the deactivation word was not uttered.  The manual pointed out that the devices deteriorated with each use, lasting for a shorter period until they finally wore out completely.  Also contained in the documentation was the Chaos Blast spell, the basis for most of the Cubes' effects.

"I don't care much for those cubes," Nigel said.  "A bit unpredictable."

"They might be really fun to unleash upon that red dragon living down here," Bommer said.  There were a couple murmurs of agreement.

"Two problems with that," Zalman said.  "First, while they were pretty effective against us, I doubt that a dragon would be that badly hurt by its powers.  It'd probably be more of a liability to us than an asset.  Secondly, the book here says that the cubes usually need about a week to recharge between uses.  I, for one, certainly hope to be out of this hell hole within a week."  Rurik held his tongue at the reference to the dwarven ruins as a "hell hole" and nodded in agreement.

Everyone jumped at the sound of a loud crash from the vaults.  Everyone except Zalman, that is.  "Don't worry," the wizard said.  "My Glue spell just wore off.  Just the cube falling from the ceiling."

Confident that the cubes would not spontaneously reactivate, Zalman went into the secondary vault and retrieved the pair.  While he had no interest in ever using them, he figured they might fetch a decent price from someone else.  And for the hassle they had created for the group, he wanted something in compensation.  As for the mithril, the group convinced Rurik that it would be safest just left in the secret vault for now.  They would fetch it on their way back out of Kladish.



Next session:  The group picks the wrong fight.


----------



## Zalman (Jul 6, 2002)

*Stubborn Dwarf!*

"Rurik!!! Get Out!!!!   We don't need the Mithril that bad!"

"I love you Z, but the metal is coming with me"

"!^!#$%!@##, get behind me" (This Dwarf is gonna get me killed, I think...)

"I should be able to pick this up, but the damn snot it blew on me has made me as weak as an elf..."

"Well, let's see if they can get stuck"

Luckily, they did.  I thought the cubes were cool, but as a Lawful Neutral Conjurer they were much too random for my tastes.  What Rybaer didn't mention is that each cube weighs about 20 pounds.  Imagine a 20 pound cube of metal banging around in a metal room in random directions and casting spells.

Yeah, I don't like it either unless I am a clever DM.

"You don't think all this noise attracted anyone's attention... do you?"


----------



## Rybaer (Jul 8, 2002)

I had a great deal of fun (as a DM) watching how the encounter with the Chatterhorm's Chaos Cubes went down.  I got the idea for the items from the spell Chaos Blast in Wild Magic (by RangerWickett).  In short, when the spell goes off, you roll three d20's - one for area of effect (cone, ray, area, touch, etc), one for damage or effect (d6/level, slow, confusion, etc), and one for visual effect (water, fire, small furry rodents, etc).  I couldn't wait to try out the spell, but had no real plans for the group to encounter a suitable spell caster for quite some time.

Then I realized that there had been precious few cursed magic items in my game thus far.  Mwuahaha.  Not that this is really cursed, because they can be *somewhat* controlled.  The catch was in their spontaneous activation unless the deactivation word was spoken.

Basically, it turned into a 6 round episode of D&D Survivor.  They did pretty well, though I was worried about Zalman and Rurik near the end there.  The cubes were not indestructable, but the combination of being difficult to hit (size and speed) and having a respectable hardness would have made such nearly impossible before they deactivated on their own.


----------



## Amill (Jul 8, 2002)

*Perverse*

I remember B's glee when he told me what he was going to unleash on these guys.  (Of course all this is before my character joins the adventure). It is pretty amazing nobody got themselves killed on this one. Lucky thing those fellows are such stout adventurers


----------



## Rybaer (Jul 22, 2002)

Session #12.11 – Fire in the Forge


Once satisfied that there was nothing else of interest in the old dwarven ore refinery, the group decided to continue with their explorations elsewhere.  Rurik was a bit depleted on spells, having had to heal most of the members of the party to one degree or another after the encounter with Chatterhorm’s Chaos Cubes, but the cleric certainly wasn’t going to let that slow him down.  After all, he still had his new axe Sleet.

The group went back to the primary artery through this section of Kladish and pressed on into the darkness.  Several hundred feet back, the passage showed considerable signs of damage.  Slabs of cut stone had fallen from the ceiling and large sections of the walls had collapsed into the wide hallway.  Ahead, in the darkness, they then began to notice tiny sparkles of light.

Cautiously, they continued onward.  Eventually, someone in the party surmised that the sparkles of light might be reflections from their own light source – a continual flame torch.  They covered the torch and the sparkles winked out.  Uncover, sparkles returned.

A little further down the hallway, they finally found what was creating the sparkling effect.  The cut stone of the passage gave way to gigantic crystals.  Floor, walls, and ceiling had all been replaced with crystals in varying orientations.  They ranged from less than an inch to well over ten feet in length.  Colors included clear, blue, violet, yellow, and green.  A connection was immediately made between these massive crystals and the abundance of crystal-construction they’d seen in Kladish thus far:  The crystal doors to the temple of Nur, the glowing embedded crystal in the pillars, and a couple of the magical weapons the minotaurs had offered them.  Apparently, the ancients of the Tauren Empire had learned how to craft and strengthen crystal in meaningful ways.

While the sight was impressive, it was also daunting.  The crystal-filled room ranged far out of the reach of their torch and crossing the irregular and sharp surface would be slow and very dangerous.  Zalman offered to cast Fly upon himself and scout the chamber.  The group was reluctant to split up, even briefly, but saw no alternative.

Zalman took the torch with him and made a quick circuit of the chamber.  It was irregularly shaped and at least a couple hundred feet long and wide.  There were several pillars of crystal, but he found nothing resembling a life form.  One exit left the chamber – another of the dwarven-built stone hallways.  The wizard reported back to the others and they decided to cross over to the new hallway and explore that.  Given the inherent danger of trying to climb over the crystal, Zalman simply flew them across one at a time.

Nervous as crossing the chamber made them, all made it to the other side uneventfully.  The passage continued on a couple hundred feet before widening into a series of massive chambers.  Ancient forges, racks of tools, and stacks of rusted iron ingots filled the rooms.  While impressive in size and scope, it was quite clear that the forges had been cold for ages.

The group cautiously explored the area, but found little of interest.  Several offices and tool rooms branched off from the main forges, most filled with rusted remnants of a once bustling area of business.  During a cursory search through one of these offices, Bommer spotted a secret door in the stone wall.  With the rest of the group backing him up, he opened the door and exposed a tight, dark passage.  The air was musty and there was no sign of anything alive.  They scouted down the length a short distance until it ended at a small stone door.  This, they found, opened into one of the office areas they’d previously explored in the refinery.  The concealed passage, they concluded, would make for a much better escape route than trying to shuttle everyone across the crystal chamber – should the need arise.  

Back to the forges, the group started working their way down the length of the series of workstations.  Before they got much further, though, a disturbing sound echoed out of the darkness ahead of them.  Two sounds, actually.  The first was that of metal clanking on metal, very much in the manner of a massive chain being jostled about.  The second sound was one that a couple of the party members recognized from their previous night’s watch as the rhythmic mechanical sound.  The group started retreating backward, quietly as possible so as to continue listening to clanking.

About thirty seconds later, with the group backed up to the forge area with the concealed retreat route, the clanking of the chain subsided.  Peeking around the corner to look down the grand hallway, two flickering light sources appeared - torches, apparently being carried by flying creatures of some manner.  The pair was too far away to make out distinctly, but it was clear that they were heading toward the group.

Nigel called a hasty team meeting.  “Well, what do we do?  Hide, run away, or ambush?  I’m fairly certain anything that’s down here and flying is not going to be a dwarf in need of rescue.”

Most of the votes were non-committal.  Only Rurik was adamant in his desire to press on, and he felt that failing to eliminate these “sentries” now could only come back to haunt them later.  Everyone else bought into it and they laid a hasty plan for the ambush.  Zalman would hide behind a large rack of raw steel rods.  When the flying creatures reached the edge of this forge area, he’d unload with a fireball – the cue to start the ambush.  Bommer would climb up the wall and hide, trying to get a position above the fliers from which to sneak attack.  Nigel positioned himself toward the back of the room, arranging himself so as to have a good field of fire and to be able to cover everyone else’s retreat to the concealed passage should it be necessary.  Amblin and Rurik both hid behind forges and racks of tools, ready to spring out and engage anything that got close enough to the ground.

As the flying creatures closed in on their position, Zalman was the only one with a good angle to see them.  The fliers the size and build of ogres.  Their wings appeared to be mechanical, as were several other parts of their bodies – very much like the half-machine undead they’d fought the previous day.  The mechanical ogres alone did not bother the wizard terribly much.  What did bother him was the half-mechanical giant that was walking along the floor underneath them.  A chill of foreboding rushed through the pit of his stomach.  Much as he wanted to abandon the plan, the enemy was already too close for him to safely call to the others.

Amblin was the only one close to Zalman, so the wizard whispered as loud as he dared.  “They’ve got a half-machine fire giant with them.”  Amblin sighed, and then quaffed a drink from his magical flask, feeling a surge of strength and energy flow through him.

Zalman held back until the flying ogres reached the edge of the room and then promptly let fly with a fireball – targeted to detonate between the pair.  One of the ogres shrieked in agony, having taken the full brunt of the explosion.  His companion tucked and rolled, suffering only minor injury.

The mechanical fire giant, eager for a fight, charged forward.  As he did so, a massive shield unfolded from his left forearm and a long sword blade extended from his right.  The ogres, even the injured one, swept in behind the giant and looked for targets.

Rurik, upon his first good look at the fire giant, almost lost his nerve.  He then batted his axe Sleet upon the symbol of Moradin on his shield and cried out, “In the name of Moradin!”  He charged the grinning giant.

Parked in the back of the room, Nigel immediately recognized that this fight could turn bad very quickly.  The giant looked very tough, and very mean.  His arrows would take a while to whittle it down, so he decided to start working on the flying ogres first.  He knocked an arrow in Star Slayer and let fly at the more injured of the pair.  A crackle of electricity followed the arrow as it flew true and lodged in the creature’s shoulder, just below its wing joint.  Before the ogre could cry out, Nigel’s second arrow delivered its combined punch of precision-aimed arrowhead and electric shock – this time through the top of the monster’s skull.  The ogre’s body skidded unceremoniously across the floor with a clatter.

Amblin, activated the enhanced movement feature on Far Strider, his new boots.  Combined with his monk abilities, it made him unbelievably quick.  He ran around the side of his cover, across half the room, leapt into the air and planted a hard kick into the giant’s stomach, landed, and then skittered back a good forty feet – safely out of reach.  Amblin would have been a bit more proud of himself had the giant acted like the kick fazed him in the slightest.

Rurik risked a counterattack from the giant and charged ruthlessly in with Sleet.  The giant’s sword arm tagged Rurik a glancing blow and the dwarf planted Sleet’s icy blue blade into the giant’s hip.  Both giant and dwarf, bloodied and hot for a fight, circled and growled at one another.

Zalman flew up above his cover and realized that the lightning bolt he’d planned on firing from his wand at the giant would risk hitting Rurik.  He opted instead for a precision blast of magic missiles that peppered the raging giant.

Bommer, patiently waiting from his position on the wall near the hundred foot high ceiling, saw the second ogre swooping in to hit Rurik from behind.  In a moment of brave recklessness, the halfling removed his Ring of Featherfall, and dropped in freefall from the ceiling.  His intent was to impale the ogre on his short sword from above in a powerful sneak attack.  Unfortunately, his timing on the fall was a bit off and he only injured himself as he glanced off the foot of the ogre and slammed into the floor.

The ogre, surprised at the sudden appearance of the halfling, turned to attack.  Nigel had seen the entire thing and brought Star Slayer to bear on the ogre before it could pound Bommer with its club.  Two shots, two arrows buried into the ogre.  Amblin, ready for another spring attack, made a standing forty foot long jump and planted a firm kick to the back of the ogre’s head – causing it to fall hard to the floor.  Bommer, still severely shaken from the fall, came to his senses long enough to jab his blade into the ogre’s body.

The giant and Rurik traded blows, though even with Rurik’s dwarven training in how combat giants the half-mechanical beast was getting the better of him.  Several gashes had already been sliced through his plate armor and he was bleeding badly.  The giant, meanwhile, only had a couple minor injuries that weren’t slowing it down in the least.  The giant had peripherally seen the halfling fall to the ground and maneuvered himself around Rurik in the last exchange of blades to get closer.  The fire giant then feigned a blow at Rurik, but spun at the last moment and impaled the halfing through the chest with his massive blade.

With a casual flick, Bommer’s corpse was tossed against a rack of rusted ingots.  The giant spun back around and laid into Rurik with a gleeful fervor.  Rurik, along with the others, was stunned by the giant’s raw power and sadistic disposition.  The dwarf had been contemplating a strategic retreat, but after the slaughter of Bommer he was more inclined to take out his frustration on the giant.

Dwarf and giant, they continued to exchange blows while Nigel turned his sharp shooting demonstration upon the giant.  No arrow missed its mark and the giant started to resemble a pincushion.  Amblin continued to leap in and out of the giant’s reach, planting quick kicks in an effort to distract and wear him down.

The giant’s focus was incredible, however, and he wouldn’t let the attacks of the others deter him from taking down the pesky dwarf.  With a final mighty swing of his sword arm, the giant batted aside Sleet and clove Rurik in two just above the waist.  The dwarf’s armored body clattered to the floor in a wide pool of his own blood.  Sleet skidded several feet away and its icy blue light faded to darkness.

Everyone else in the group was in a state of shock.  Rurik, the stalwart of the party and their healer, had just been slain.  Worse, the giant had made it look easy.  They were torn for just a moment between fleeing and continuing the fight.  Having no desire to leave the bodies of their friends behind, they chose to fight.

As no one was left in close quarters with the giant, Zalman flew up high enough to get a good angle at the giant and then let loose with his Wand of Lightning Bolt.  Amblin continued to spring attack the giant, always retreating behind an obstruction so as to deny the giant a clear path to charge him.  Nigel pumped arrow after arrow into the large target.  The giant, in spite of his mass and strength, began to falter under the assault.  He repositioned himself behind a large rack to deny Nigel a clear line of sight for his arrows.  The nimble monk was simply too difficult for him to catch.  The wizard, whose lightning bolts were getting very annoying, was a more accommodating target.

The giant retracted the sword into his arm and grabbed a six-foot long, inch diameter steel rod off the nearby rack.  The next time Zalman popped up to fire a lightning bolt, the giant flung the rod end over end at the wizard.  The improvised missile just grazed Zalman, but succeeded in keeping the wizard out of the way for a moment.

Much as the giant tried to employ tactics against his remaining foes, they were simply too mobile and had too strong of ranged attacks.  Nigel had repositioned himself and hit the giant with a couple arrows through the very rack it was trying to use for cover.  Another blast from Zalman, another kick from Amblin, and another pair of arrows from Nigel finally brought the fire giant to his knees.  It then tumbled face-first onto the floor in a booming crash.

After a hard minute of fighting, the forge had once again become deafeningly silent.  Rurik was clearly beyond help, and Amblin quickly confirmed that Bommer was likewise gone.  With two close companions slain, the other three lost all heart for this trip into Kladish.  The mission had been Rurik’s, after all, and he was dead.  They had no one who could heal injuries and against foes such as this giant, they’d now be severely undermanned.  On top of that, they still believed that a red dragon was in residence nearby.  It was time to leave, and there was no argument from anyone.

As they began to gather up their fallen companions, they heard the distant echo of a massive chain rattling again.  Trying to hurry, they were interrupted by a shrieking roar that in the darkest recesses of their imaginations could only come from one thing – a dragon.  The unmistakable sound of heavy clawed footfalls followed, coming in their direction.

Nigel slung Bommer over his shoulder.  Amblin and Zalman considered Rurik’s body and realized that they simply couldn’t carry it and escape fast enough – even split in two as it was.  They grabbed both of Rurik’s magic axes and his shield.  Zalman recalled something from his magic training about some forms of resurrection requiring a body part.  They hastily cut off one of Rurik’s hands, stuffed it in a bag, and made a quick retreat back through the concealed passage to the refinery.

While they never saw the dragon, they could feel its presence behind them.  As they fled down the dark, narrow concealed passage, the dragon roared again and let loose a blast of fire into the offices behind them.  The heat sucked the air out of the hallway, but they managed to make it out the other side just in time to avoid serious injury.



Next session:  An old acquaintance, a new face, and a whole lot more things go badly for the party...


----------



## Zalman (Jul 23, 2002)

Since I was unable to throw lightning bolts or fireballs at the Mechanical Fire Giant while he was in melee I tried summoning a couple of critters to help out Rurik. (at least giving him a bonus for flanking)  Unfortunately, the Fire Giant was able to quickly get rid of them before they could be of much use.

Rurik is dead... My friend who we respected and followed down here is gone.  I know that he would want his possessions back if resurrected, but we only had time to get his two axes and his holy symbol/shield.  Only one thing is running through our minds now....

RUN!!!


----------



## Tuerny (Jul 23, 2002)

Wow.
A truly devestating blow to the party.
Whats going to happen next?
Have Bommer and Rurik's players implied they are going to make new characters or are you going to try for a ressurrection?



Btw, Welcome back!


----------



## Rybaer (Jul 23, 2002)

Tuerny said:
			
		

> *Wow.
> A truly devestating blow to the party.
> Whats going to happen next?
> Have Bommer and Rurik's players implied they are going to make new characters or are you going to try for a ressurrection?
> *





Yeah, this encounter was pretty messy.  Honestly, I had expected the party to do their best to avoid direct confrontation with the fire giant.  So much for expectations.  By the book, the fire giant was a CR15 vs the party's average level of 8.  The flying ogres were really not that much of a problem (as seen in how quickly they were dropped).

As for what happens next, well, it gets a bit odd.  Ressurrection is not something commonly available and the only major church in the area is the Church of the Small in Water Break, which the group is avoiding like the plague.  After the encounter with the mind flayer, Zalman was ressurrected via a scroll provided by the minotaur ghosts.  That's not an option this time around because with Rurik dead, no one can get them down to the minotaur's chamber or even cast the scroll if they could get one.

Much will be revealed in the next post or two.  Stay tuned.


----------



## Rurik (Jul 24, 2002)

A GIANT!!!

This is what I live for!

HAHAHAHAHAHA...come here little man!

Hey...what's that thing comming out of your arm?  Hey...why is it comming at me soo fast?  HEY...you kil.....


----------



## Rybaer (Jul 26, 2002)

Session #12.12 - The Mage of Many Colors 


Rurik and Bommer have just been slain by a half-mechanical fire giant.  Nigel, Amblin, and Zalman, having just finished off said fire giant, are now fleeing through the ruins of Kladish from a raging red dragon. 


A little less than a day ealier... 

Linnea, the head of household for Countess Lohna Goldenoak Graeble of Vineyard Pass, made her daily trip into town to pick up fresh produce from the farmers and merchants.  Given the Countess's nighttime lifestyle, Linnea had accustomed herself to rising in the middle of the afternoon to see that the household was in order. 

When she arrived in the town's market, she found all the citizens abuzz with talk about a group of strangers who had passed through earlier in the morning.  While selecting her items, Linnea tried to gather and filter the gossip to get the best possible report for Lohna.  The group, four men on horseback with one spare mount, had ridden through at a quick pace not an hour after dawn.  The most striking of the group was a large man dressed in exotic red full plate armor stylized to look like a demon - particularly the mask.  Another rider was a man or half-elf (as some claimed), dressed in robes of deep blue and commanding a powerful aura about him.  The other two riders paled in comparison - both humans and dressed in simple brown and gray travel garb.  One was older, perhaps in his late 50's, and the other was in his late teens. 

Linnea learned little else about the group other than that they were traveling north and had not even slowed down as they passed through town.  Linnea was fairly certain that they had not attempted to stop at the Graeble estate, or she'd have heard about it from some of the daytime staff. 

Linnea knew that the Countess's newest group of friends had just passed through town not a week ago, headed on a mission of some sort north of the city.  As far as she knew, there was nothing else to the north - certainly no cities or civilization.  A few hunters occasionally went up that way, but these strangers didn't sound like the hunting types. 

When the sun finally began to set, the Countess Lohna rose for her evening meal.  She was entertaining one guest this night, an acquaintance of a couple years and psychic warrior named Amill Jaggitt.  Linnea didn't know too much about Amill.  He was something of a wanderer, but seemed pleasant enough during each of his previous visits. 

Linnea greeted the two in the dining hall and helped serve dinner (or breakfast, depending on one's perspective).  Once the meal was underway, Linnea decided to pass along the story of the day.  Lohna listened carefully and asked a couple pointed questions for clarity.  Lohna had no more idea as to the identity of these riders than the townsfolk had.  Like Linnea, though, she was concerned that they might be pursuing Nigel and the others from New Selmar.  There was little explanation. 

During one of that group's previous visits, a halfling wizard and his summoned creatures had attacked in the middle of the night.  It had never been determined if the attack was aimed at her or the group, but suspicion favored the latter.  Lohna knew they had acquired some enemies, and she grew more concerned about their safety.  Lohna had been a bit of an adventurer in her youth and had a few tricks up her sleeves - not enough to take on a potentially dangerous group of men, but perhaps enough to scout them out and warn the Selmarian Seekers. 

"Amill," the Countess said.  "Care to take a ride north?" 

"I've got nothing else planned," Amill said.  "Why not?" 

"I'll have Master Jaggitt's horse readied immediately," Linnea said.  Fifteen minutes later, Amill and Lohna left town as the stars began to poke through the last minutes of dusk - the psychic warrior on horseback and the Countess in the form of a sleek wolf.


Back in the ruins of Kladish…

Zalman slammed the concealed door shut behind him, effectively blocking out the intense heat from the dragon’s breath.  The few remaining members of the group were back in one of the offices of the ore refinery, a dark and stuffy place only a dwarf could tolerate.

“Well,” said Nigel, “do we hide in here and hope the dragon can’t follow because of its size or do we make a run for the stairs and try to escape?”

“Better plan,” Zalman chimed in.  “I’ve still got a scroll of Teleportation with me.  I didn’t think I could teleport the entire group before, but I’m quite certain it should be able to get the three of us out.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Amblin said.  “And the quicker the better.”

“Where to?” Zalman asked as he pulled the scroll case out of his pack.

“Lohna’s?” Nigel suggested.  The others nodded in agreement.  It was close and familiar and had no dragons that they were aware of.

Zalman asked his companions to each grab one of his shoulders and then he recited the spell from the scroll.  They felt the surge of magical energy envelop them and then wrench them out of the Prime.  All felt an abrupt and unpleasant shock as they were kicked back into the Prime.

“Uh, Zalman,” Nigel said.  “I’m pretty sure this isn’t Lohna’s.”  He gazed around at the cavernous stone hallway they were in.  Aside from Amblin’s small continual-flame rock, it was quite dark.  Chunks of stone littered the floor.

“Yeah,” Amblin said.  “And judging by the little sparkly deals down that way, I’d go so far as to say we’re in the main hallway just outside the refinery room.  Some teleportation!  It got us what?  A whopping two hundred feet?”

Zalman, judging by the rough exit from the teleportation, quickly surmised that something must have blocked the spell from properly functioning.  It was possible that the walls of Kladish had wards built into them.

A roar echoed through the vast hall again, abruptly reminding them of the presence of the dragon.  “Right,” Nigel said.  “Time to go!”

They raced down the hall and then through the tunnel they’d melted in the rock earlier.  Throwing caution aside in favor of speed, they hurried across the chasms in the dwarven apartment chamber and back to the long, twisting stairway up to the ogre’s lair.  They paused for just a moment to catch their breaths and to listen for pursuit.

From here, they could hear nothing but the faint crashing of the waterfalls several hundred feet behind them.  Relieved that the dragon wasn’t immediately upon them, they continued up the stairs.  Remembering the unpleasant encounter with the black pudding on these very stairs, however, they proceeded at a more cautious pace.

About halfway up the stairs, Amblin, who was scouting the way, heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairwell.  Torchlight flickered off the walls.  The monk quickly and quietly slipped back down the stairs to warn the others.

In a hasty whispered conversation, the group decided to wait on the stairs for the approaching group.  They certainly had no interest in going back toward the dragon.  If they were lucky, perhaps the newcomers would be either friendly or at least easier to handle than a dragon.

The torchlight finally arrived at the platform above them and the newcomers were revealed:  a half-elf in dark robes, a tall humanoid concealed in demonic-styled armor and carrying a massive black-bladed greatsword, and a pair of humans dressed in simple travelers’ garb.  The newcomers paused at finding the three battered men on the landing below.

The half-elf in robes broke the silence.  “Hello,” he said.  “May I ask who you are?”

Nigel spoke up.  “Just a few guys trying to get the hell out of here.  I’d suggest you turn around yourselves as there’s a rampaging dragon down there.”  Amblin started back up the stairs toward the newcomers.  It was his intention to walk on past them.

“Please, wait,” the half-elf said.  “I would like to know more.  Are you the ones responsible for the slain ogres up there?”

“Yes,” Nigel said.  “But, like I said, we really don’t want to be standing around chit-chatting right now.”  

As Amblin approached, the man in red armor stepped forward and leveled his sword in the monk’s direction.  It was clear that he did not want Amblin any closer.  Amblin, not interested in what the man in red wanted, continued forward.  Nigel clenched his bow and Zalman his staff.

With his attention focused firmly on the confrontation above, Zalman was caught completely off guard when he was whacked in the back of the head.  The wizard’s staff clattered into the corner of the landing as he crumpled to the floor unconscious.  Amblin whipped around at the sound, only to turn back at the sound of spell casting from above.  The older man dressed in drab travel garb was holding some manner of holy symbol and casting a spell.  The monk was ready to pounce, but found that he was completely immobilized.

Nigel, unsure what had happened to Zalman and soon aware that something was wrong with Amblin, raised his bow.

“Stop!” the half-elf said, raising his hands pleadingly.  “Do not harm them!  I only wish to speak!”

Nigel held his fire.  Running the numbers in his head, he realized that their only chance was to take the half-elf at his word and talk.  “Upstairs then,” Nigel said.  

“Very well,” the half-elf said.  “Please release him.”  With a wave, the older man released his spell on the now-upset monk.  Rather than force a confrontation, though, Amblin helped gather up Zalman and the wizard’s staff.  While doing so, he peered down the stairs and saw nothing but darkness.  

The entire group went back up to the ogre’s lair and settled down in the room with the crack overlooking the ocean.  Daytime, they noted. The old man approached and offered to heal Zalman.  Nigel and Amblin were both very reluctant.

“Look,” the old man said, “I’m a follower of St. Cuthbert.  I will not harm your friend.”  Nigel and Amblin finally acquiesced and the cleric brought Zalman back to consciousness.

Zalman was confused and could not recall what had happened.  He was not happy with the situation and decided to sit in one of the chairs, refuse to speak, and glare at the newcomers.

Nigel turned back to the half-elf.  “Alright, you’ve got us sitting now.  Would you mind telling us who you are and what you want from us?”

“I am the Mage of Many Colors,” the half-elf said with a slight bow.  “You may also call me Mister North.  I am a scholar of sorts, and the search for this city has been a passion of mine for years.”



Next session:  the Mage reveals his true colors


----------



## Dyme (Jul 26, 2002)

Oh yeah. We heard that dragon coming and got the duck out of fodge faster than you could spit. 

The scene on the stairs with the strangers was actually longer, as Nigel proceeded to tell the other group _everything_. Actually, to the point of too much information. At that time, tho, Nigel was tired, angry, and just wanted to get out of these ruins altogether.  These morons want to go down there, fine, have fun. We just saw Bommerkabobs get made and Rurik get _cut in half_.  As far as I was concerned (and I'm pretty sure Amblin and Z, too) these dwarfs can take their lost city/temple/hideout/whatever and stick it. We're leaving.

It was a good plan. And our good plans always work so well.


----------



## Rybaer (Jul 27, 2002)

Dyme said:
			
		

> *The scene on the stairs with the strangers was actually longer, as Nigel proceeded to tell the other group everything. Actually, to the point of too much information. At that time, tho, Nigel was tired, angry, and just wanted to get out of these ruins altogether.  *





Fear not, I haven't forgotten that bit of the story.  I just remembered your divulging of information to have been more in the room upstairs, so I'm writing it as such.  Either way, Nigel once again told a complete stranger far more information than he really needed to.  The outcome wouldn't have changed, but it's still something the others like to keep pointing out the their illustrious (reluctant) leader.

Next session is almost complete.


----------



## Rybaer (Jul 27, 2002)

I forgot to mention it, but I finally got to introduce Amill to the story.  He's the newest player added to the group.  Or, rather, the only player added to the original five.  Human, psychic warrior (8?).  Relies heavily on self-enhancement, particularly changing size to gain 10' reach.

I'm sure he's geeked to finally make it into the storyhour.


----------



## Amill (Jul 27, 2002)

*Hey, who is this big goof in the monk's outfit?*

Amill was my first character using the third edition rules. I was going to play just a straight up fighter but I wanted to play a character that also could come up with a few tricks out of the proverbial hat. B was kind enough to let me use the psionics option so I thought that was cool. Amill's background story had a little tragedy to it: "I was born a slave but I refuse to die a slave. I have seen many friends die in the pits of the Snake masters. I will always be grateful for the revolt that enabled me to escape those monsters. I was but a child when my parents died at the hands of the Yuan-ti. If not for their courageous sacrifice, I would have not known the breath of freedom that can so easily become considered normal. They also introduced me to the true path of Self enlightenment which is the source of my powers." Amill turns out not to have had too much impact on the going ons of this campaign but these guys were in need of all the bodies they could get their hands on. Oh, one other thing, at the time I started playing, I was just going to show up every other week, so B concocted up an idea that had me occasionally turn ethereal for those times that I wouldn't be there. But turns out I couldn't turn my back on adventure so I just started showing up every week; so that background element never really got played up.


----------



## Zalman (Jul 27, 2002)

Yes, we love to point out to Nigel that he says too much at the wrong time.  Often.

"ay-skay ess-ley or-ay ell-way ie-day"

Gee, writing pig-latin is harder than saying it....


----------



## Rybaer (Jul 27, 2002)

Session #12.13 - Give Him a Hand 


"Now," Mr. North said, "I have told you who I am.  Would you kindly return the favor?" 

"Nigel," Nigel said.  "That's Amblin and Zalman."  Neither the monk nor the wizard felt inclined to contribute to the conversation. 

"And your other companion?" the Mage said, indicating Bommer's crumpled body. 

"Bommer," Nigel said, giving the fallen halfling a regretful look.  Things were slowing down just enough now for the horrors of the encounter with the giant to register with him. 

"My condolences," the Mage said.  "I can't imagine the dragon killed him, though, or I wouldn't expect to see this much left." 

"No," Nigel said.  "There are other things down there too.  The dragon came just after we finished a bad fight." 

"Did you lose any other companions, or is this all of you?" 

"One other," Nigel said.  "We couldn't bring him back, though."  Both Zalman and Amblin felt Nigel was being far too free with information, but neither was willing to interrupt.  As long as they could get out of here quickly and alive, little else seemed to matter at this point. 

While Nigel chatted away with the scholarly Mage, telling him many of the details of their encounters, Amblin studied the others in the room.  The warrior in the demonic-looking armor was likely the wizard's muscle and bodyguard.  The man behind the horned mask had not uttered a word, but his posture spoke volumes for his competence.  The older man had proclaimed himself a cleric of St. Cuthbert.  Amblin didn't know religion real well, but was pretty sure that St. Cuthbert was generally regarded as okay.  The boy was probably an attendant or acolyte.  Interesting company for a scholar, Amblin thought, even if he was a wizard. 

Zalman, meanwhile, had pulled out a spell book and was busy studying, furiously refusing to acknowledge the rest of the world.  The loss of Rurik, combined with all his own near-death and actual death experiences of the last few months, had hit him hard. 

Once the Mage had extracted all the information Nigel seemed willing or able to share, he rose and started to pace.  "Hmmm," he said. "This Kladish isn't entirely what I'd expected it to be.  A dragon, indeed?" 

"Pungab," the Mage said to his armored companion, "a moment if you will?"  The pair left the room and walked down the hall a short distance.  Amblin and Nigel could hear hushed conversation, but not the words.  The two clerics, meanwhile, had settled themselves against the far wall.  They seemed very much out of place and almost as eager to leave as the companions were. 

Both Amblin and Nigel, used to being around Zalman and his spell casting, immediately recognized the change in the Mage's voice from hushed conversation to confident incantation.  Amblin leapt from his chair and moved to look down the hall.  Nigel instinctively drew his flaming longsword.  Neither had a chance of reacting quickly enough to what happened next, for the Mage of Many Colors literally caused time to stop - if only briefly. 

Nigel had just turned to his right to look down the hallway for the Mage.  He spotted only the bodyguard, however.  Voice to his left prompted him to turn back and he was stunned to see the half-elf already over there, casting another spell.  Nigel's instincts warned him that it was directed at him. When he tried to move, his instincts were proven correct - his body was immobilized.  Fury exploded within him, but he lacked the ability to vent it. 

The Mage and his bodyguard both approached the frozen elf while the two clerics rose from the floor, looks of concern on their faces.  "I'm really sorry about all the inconvenience," the Mage said to Nigel.  "I have nothing against any of you, aside from a few hassles you've created.  I really should thank you.  After all, you've found what I couldn't in several years of looking." 

The Mage was standing right next to Nigel now.  Though he couldn't see it, Nigel could tell the mage was rummaging through his packs.  A few moments later, the Mage stepped back and held his find aloft - Rurik's severed hand. 

"I should never have doubted you, Pungab," the Mage said.  "Just as you guessed."  He slipped the hand into a small sack that he produced from his robes. 

"Truly, Mister Nigel," the Mage said, "I hold no ill will toward you.  Just have to attend to some business."  With that he swept out of the room, indicating for the clerics and his bodyguard to follow. 

Nigel was ready to explode in rage.  What was worse, he couldn't see Amblin or Zalman behind him.  He could only hope that the spell would wear off soon. 

Then things got worse, much worse.  Three feet in front of him, the Shadow revealed himself from out of invisibility.  The dark elf had been a thorn in their side and had nearly killed him outside High Hill's inn several weeks earlier.  He was dressed in black leathers with a rapier and short sword tucked in their sheaths. Up close, Nigel was repulsed by how elvish the Shadow looked.  The utter contempt in the Shadow's eyes made all the difference between the races clear, though. 

In a smooth, soft voice, the Shadow addressed Nigel while he started to walk around the immobile archer.  "I was amazed when I heard that you'd survived our last encounter.  For as much hassle as you and your friends have caused me, you still managed to deny me that small satisfaction from the whole mess." 

The Shadow was behind Nigel now. He couldn't see what he was doing, but it sounded like the dark elf was digging through his bags.  When the Shadow returned to where Nigel could see, it was clear he had purloined some choice belongings from Nigel.  Shadow tossed a couple of these, including the magical quiver, on a nearby table.  The dark elf then tried to pry the flaming longsword from Nigel's frozen grip. 

Nigel got a moment's satisfaction at the Shadow’s frustration, but it was short lived.  The Shadow drew out a large hunting knife and casually sliced Nigel’s entire hand off.  As blood flowed freely down Nigel’s arm, the dark elf pried the hand from the sword’s grip, removed the sheath from Nigel’s hip, and then strapped his new treasure about his own waist.  The Shadow collected the rest of his loot from the table, blew Nigel a sarcastic kiss goodbye, and left the room.

Half a minute later, the spell holding Nigel in place wore off.  With the massive blood loss he’d already suffered, he collapsed instantly.  Rolling his head to one side, he was able to finally get a look behind him at Amblin and Zalman.  Where each had been a minute earlier, a large, perfectly reflective, and perfectly spherical ball remained.  As consciousness slipped away, Nigel realized that these were identical to the stasis bubble that had entrapped the powerful wizard Shadykin – a spell cast by Gills Dralon, one of the members of the Black Hand.

The only other thought that briefly flittered through Nigel’s mind before he passed out was how odd and fortunate it was that the vermin hadn’t taken his new bow Star Slayer. 


Next session:  The Quest and its twist...


----------



## Rurik (Jul 27, 2002)

NIgel! Don't tell them....aw man...

No wait! Nigel...don't tell 'em....dammmm...

Well...they know it all.  At least it can't get any worse...

Hey, wasn't that your bow hand?


----------



## Zalman (Jul 28, 2002)

And, once again, we get in hot water.  I still insist that if we had just headed out instead of stopping to CHAT then we would have been okay.

THE MAN WAS WEARING ***DEMONIC*LOOKING*ARMOR***  Hello!?!?! McFly?!?!?  When was the last time you saw a GOOD guy wearing ***DEMONIC*LOOKING*ARMOR***  That was the specific description Rybaer gave us when we were playing.

It turns out that it was the Shadow, invisible, who clubbed me over the head and knocked me out.  I'm really suprised that he just didn't kill me.  Now Amblin and I are in a stasis field (one that held the much more powerful wizard Shadykin for a very long time) and our companion is bleeding to death.  Damn dwarven quest!

Yeah, Z is pretty much tired of dying.  I guess he won't die any more, now that he is perfectly preserved in a stasis.

Oh, I only have one more thing to say about this...

***DEMONIC*LOOKING*ARMOR***


----------



## Amill (Jul 28, 2002)

Zalman said:
			
		

> ***DEMONIC*LOOKING*ARMOR***





You know, he could have been just a decent fellow who just happened to like the way the... ***DEMONIC*LOOKING*ARMOR***   looked like, hanging in the shop window....


----------



## Rybaer (Jul 28, 2002)

Hmmm...someone's obsessing over that suit of armor.  Geez.  What none of the players to this day have noted, though, is that it wasn't the first time I've made reference to it.  One of the characters in this story has seen it previously.

Any astute readers (or players, for that matter) remember the first occurance?  It's kinda like playing connect-the-dots.


----------



## Rybaer (Jul 30, 2002)

Session 12.14 – Rurik’s Return 


Rurik drained away another mug of the finest dwarven ale he'd ever tasted.  Along dozens of long tables heavily laden with aromatic meats, breads, and cheese, sat hundreds of other dwarves.  All were merrily eating, drinking, and sharing stories.  These were his friends, his family, and his clan. 

Rurik had been in this great hall for a while.  He couldn't be quite certain when he'd arrived, but time no longer seemed to matter.  He was at peace, among good company and with good drink.  Nothing else mattered. 

He pondered his mug, seemingly full again of its own accord.  It was made of a rich, dark wood, handcrafted by a master.  Something about it tugged at old memories.  He'd been given this mug as a gift...by a stranger...a traveler.  They'd spoken and drank all through the night.  There was something else about that stranger...he'd told Rurik something important. 

"That's right, Rurik," an old dwarf said as he settled onto the bench next to Rurik.  The senior dwarf was grizzled and weather-beaten, but his eyes were energetic and friendly.  Rurik instantly recognized him as the one who'd given him the mug.  "I asked something of you." 

The memory of that night came back to Rurik in crystalline clarity.  "My quest," Rurik said.  "I was trying to help some followers of Moradin.  Was my quest to rescue the dwarves trapped in Kladish?" 

The old dwarf paused a moment, as if trying to determine how best to respond.  "Yes, Rurik," he said.  "Those trapped in Kladish are the faithful of Moradin of whom I spoke to you about." 

Rurik started to take in his surroundings in a different light, as a cleric of Moradin.  "I failed, didn't I?" Rurik said.  "I must have died." 

"Well, you did die," the old dwarf said as he set his own mug on the table.  "It was quite a battle, and your bravery ultimately led to the survival of several of your friends."  That bit of news lifted Rurik's heavy heart just a bit. 

"Will someone else rescue the dwarves?" Rurik asked. 

"I'm not sure," the old dwarf said.  "The faithful of Moradin are certainly in a tight spot.  You were their best hope." 

"And I failed them," Rurik said.  "The biggest test of my faith and I failed to survive a simple confrontation of arms." 

"That giant was no simple confrontation," the dwarf said.  "Besides, you're being given another chance to complete your quest." 

Rurik's mug paused halfway to his mouth.  "What do you mean?" 

"Someone is calling you back this very moment," the old dwarf said.  "If you listen carefully, you'll hear them.  Answer the call and you'll have another chance to complete your quest.  If you deny it, you will remain here for eternity.  Not that this place doesn't have a lot going for it, but there's something to be said for the realm of mortals, too." 

Rurik pondered long and hard.  Because of dabbling in unknown magics, he had shamed his uncle and given up his clan name.  The months following that had been hard and dangerous.  His soul was weary, even if his body felt refreshed in this paradise.  On the other hand, his friends had been left behind in a very dangerous place.  He also had a quest to complete - one possibly given to him by Moradin himself.  Part of being a cleric involved exploring of the depths of one's own soul - to find the limits of his strength and faith, to learn how to endure, and to defend those in need. 

"I'll go back," Rurik said.  "I need to see this quest through to completion." 

The old dwarf nodded and finished his ale in one mighty gulp. 

"So," Rurik said.  "How exactly to I answer the call to return?" 

"Just listen to the voice and follow it," the old dwarf said.  Rurik focused on the ephemeral voice that cut through the boisterous gathering and felt his soul channel through it. 


"He's coming back," an unfamiliar voice said.  "His body is completely restored and his soul should be in place any moment." 

Rurik could feel the harshness of the Material Plane through his back – his bare back on cold, hard stone.  Before opening his eyes, he let his mind gather itself.  Physically, he felt fine.  He could tell that he was naked, lying on cut stone.  The air had the ancient musty scent of Kladish.

He finally opened his eyes and found a human man, pushing his twilight years, looking back at him.  A nearby lantern lit his face in the otherwise dark chamber.  Rurik noted that the man was slipping something back under his cloak, and he caught just a glimpse of an embroidered symbol – an offset circle within a circle.  The man who’d just resurrected him was a member of the Church of the Small, he realized.  That couldn’t be good.  

Standing a short distance away was another young human, almost an adult, and a half-elf dressed in expensive robes.  “Welcome back, Father,” the half-elf said to Rurik.  “I wonder, should we do this the easy way or the hard way?”

Rurik didn’t quite know what to make of these people.  If someone had bothered to have him resurrected, he half expected that at least someone he personally knew would have been there.  He sat up and looked around the rest of the room.  Indeed, as he guessed, he was still in Kladish, not far from the living quarters they’d explored.

In addition to the half-elf and pair of humans, two other figures stood a short distance off.  One was a massive figure that wore heavy armor with disturbing styling.  The other was an elf.  No, he realized with a start, it was a dark elf – one that he was all too familiar with.  Naked or not, Rurik leapt to his feet and made to charge the grinning Shadow.

“I guess that means the easy way,” the half-elf said.  He cast a quick spell on Rurik before the dwarf closed half the distance to his nemesis.

“Stop!” the half-elf said.  Rurik, much to his own surprise, obeyed instantly.  Wizards, he silently cursed.

“Come stand before me,” the half-elf said.  Rurik walked up before the wizard and waited patiently under his scrutiny.  The priest from the Church of the Small offered Rurik a worn pair of leggings to wear.

“Your name?” the half-elf said.

“Rurik,” the dwarf replied.

“Just Rurik?” the half-elf said, raising an eyebrow at the absence of the typical dwarvish recitation of full name and clan.

“That’s right,” Rurik said, offering no explanation.

“And Rurik, you are a cleric of Moradin?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” the half-elf said.  “Let me be brief here, Rurik.  My name is Mr. North.  I have need of your services.  Or, rather, I need the services of a cleric of Moradin.  You were the only one conveniently in the area.  I’ve enchanted you only to make sure you’re cooperative.  I’ve known too many dwarves and their notorious stubborn bull-headedness to waste my time negotiating with you.

“There is an item within the ruins of Kladish that I need to use.  You hold the key to making use of that item.  Once you’ve performed that service for me, I’ll release you.  Consider this fair and reasonable compensation for your resurrection.”

Rurik was extremely displeased with this situation.  However, magically dominated as he was, there was little he could do to fight it off.  The half-elf almost seemed friendly and rational, if in a somewhat wizardly arrogant fashion.  The presence of the Shadow, a priest of the Church of the Small, and a freaky looking guy in demonic armor, however, cancelled out any charm the wizard might have had.

Putting the pieces of the last couple months together, Rurik felt it likely that this wizard was the one who’d hired Kisty’s sister Misty to find certain information on the lost city of Kladish.  Misty, in turn, had hired the Shadow to infiltrate the dwarven stronghold of Mt. Goldforge, where he killed a librarian while stealing some relevant information.  It also wasn’t much of a stretch to believe that the wizards who had attacked them at Lohna’s and who had been tracking and scrying them while hunting griffon eggs could also be linked back to this Mr. North.  How the Church of the Small fit into all this, he still didn’t know.  He felt vindicated in having distrusted them from the beginning, though.

“Okay everyone,” Mr. North said.  “Let’s go find the dragon.” 


Next session:  Embertongue and the Adonix


----------



## Amill (Aug 2, 2002)

*Such lucky guys*

Always bein able to find someone to cast resurrections for them(even "bad" guys doh!) Anyway, waiting for the next post. If I recall correctly the next parts play out quickly (was it just one night of playing that the pieces came together? my mind is fuzzy on this) Anyway, post the next section B so we can get on with the show!


----------



## Amill (Aug 2, 2002)

*Dwarf Poll*

Who even likes the dwarf anyway? (I mean this in the nicest way, really I do)


----------



## Rybaer (Aug 3, 2002)

*Re: Such lucky guys*



			
				Amill said:
			
		

> *Always bein able to find someone to cast resurrections for them(even "bad" guys doh!) *





Well, this was only the second character resurrection in the game.  The first being of Zalman via a scroll.  I did enjoy the irony of the moment - when Rurik learned that it was a priest from the greatly-disliked Church of the Small that resurrected him...and on behalf of some really bad people.

Yes, a lot of this Kladish episode is about to come to a conclusion soon.  Just have to get it written down.  I suspect it'll take a few postings to get through all of it, though.


----------



## Amill (Aug 5, 2002)

*Churdh of the small*

What is the ethos of these particular religious fanatics? My characters have never had to mess with them so I'm always a little confused about what they'e about...


----------



## Rybaer (Aug 5, 2002)

*Re: Church of the small*



			
				Amill said:
			
		

> *What is the ethos of these particular religious fanatics? My characters have never had to mess with them so I'm always a little confused about what they'e about... *





At this point, no one in the group knows much about their ethos.  Prior to the war, they had existed within Water Break, but only as an obscure cult with a miniscule following.  After the war, as Water Break was repopulating, the Church of the Small returned, but again as a fairly minor player that kept a low profile.

Approximately one year before our heroes arrive in Water Break, a series of diseases of magical origin swept through the city.  Many died and others who survived were left scarred in strange ways.  One such victim was the Countess Lohna Goldenoak-Graeble, who survived the disease but now has a vampire-like vulnerability to sunlight.

During these waves of disease, the local churches scrambled to find the source.  They failed.  It was the Church of the Small that proposed a solution - in exchange for some pretty steep terms of compensation.  They implemented a series of very strict anti-magic laws and set up elaborate screening mechanisms.  The Duke, who was reluctant but desperate, was talked into letting them try.

Within a few months, the waves of disease seemed to halt.  The Duke was forced to implement the changes called for by the Church of the Small - namely, the forbidding of open worship of any other religion.  The Church of the Small effectively attained a monopoly on religion in the city and the priests of the other churches were forced into the background.

The obvious bit here is that many people think the Church of the Small was behind the disease in the first place and that their "solution" was a contrived power-play to put themselves into prominence.  The other churches, along with some other interested parties, sought long and hard to find a solid link between the source of the disease and the Church of the Small.  Over half a year later, they have thus far failed.

The Church of the Small does have some pretty specific tenets, many of which have a very political aim.  However, the characters have yet to look into these.


----------



## Zalman (Aug 5, 2002)

*Re: Re: Churdh of the small*



			
				Rybaer said:
			
		

> *
> 
> 
> Approximately one year before our heroes arrive in Water Break, a series of diseases of magical origin swept through the city.  Many died and others who survived were left scarred in strange ways.  One such victim was the Countess Lohna Goldenoak-Graeble, who survived the disease but now has a vampire-like vulnerability to sunlight.
> *





Vampire-like...

Uh, huh...

****RED DEMONIC ARMOR****

'nuff said


----------



## Rybaer (Aug 5, 2002)

*Re: Re: Re: Church of the small*



			
				Zalman said:
			
		

> *
> 
> 
> Vampire-like...
> ...





Hehe.  My players are _so_ paranoid.  Guess that means I'm doing my job properly.


----------



## Uber Stoutbrew (Aug 14, 2002)

*Aaargh!*

I can't believe these little flower-children.  Runnin' from a dragon!  Ha!  And that Rurik guy, he always did annoy me when we were growin' up.  All religious and stuff.  "Why can't you be more like Rurik..."  BLAH!  I'm tired of hearin' aboot him.  I'm Uber Stoutbrew, warrior of New Selmar.  I didn't go runnin' away.  Religious quest my arse.  That Rurik never did like doin' chores or doin' his patrollin'.  Work hard, play hard, drink harder... that's what I say.

One of these days I'll show them who the big dwarf in this town is!


----------



## Uber Stoutbrew (Aug 14, 2002)

*Oh yeah...*

I'm tired of that Zalman guy too.  Fargin' humans always complain'in aboot sumthin.  So he goes and gets hisself a little scratched up once in a while.  WHAAAAA  I'm so sorry.  Maybe you should be still suckin' on yer Ma's teet.

****RED DEMONIC ARMOR***

"Oh, no... red armor..."
"Oh, no... the Shadow..."
"Oh, no... my owl..."
"Oh, no... another hangnail..."

HA!*

And that Elf Nigel isn't any better.  He's a purty fair shot with the bow, but it is easy to be brave from a distance.  Get up where the action is happin'in and he turns to puddin' just like all elfs.

Arrrgh... I needs me some beer...


----------



## Rybaer (Aug 19, 2002)

Uber Stoutbrew is a dwarf ahead of his time.  _Twenty years_ ahead of his time.  Very opinionated and one to harbor a deep jealous streak (even if he won't admit it to himself).

But alas, back to the present.  The next post is well underway and should be up soon.


----------



## Rybaer (Aug 20, 2002)

Session #12.15 - Embertongue and the Adonix 


Mr. North, the self-proclaimed Mage of Many Colors, dismissed the two priests of the Church of the Small.  "I no longer need your services," he said.  "Thank you for you help.  I would recommend you return to your horses as quickly as you can and take advantage of what daylight is left to head back to Water Break."  The old man and the boy nodded and by torchlight traveled back up the long, winding stairwell to the ogre's lair. 

The wizard then led Rurik, the Shadow, and Pungab (his red, demonically-armored bodyguard), through the ruined dwarven settlement.  Rurik, resigned to the magical domination Mr. North had placed him under, followed quietly.  He had a vague recollection of fighting an augmented giant, and then things became a bit fuzzy after that.  The priest of the church of the small had resurrected him, and that made him worried about the fate of his friends. 

Mr. North asked Rurik to lead them as far as he could, and the dwarf took them through the secret passage between the refinery and the forges.  He noted that the far end of the passageway showed considerable signs of damage.  Melting, to be more specific.  The surface of the stone had been melted into a glassy sheen.  By his estimation, only magic or dragon breath could get that hot.  He prayed to Moradin that his friends had escaped ahead of the dragon. 

As the group exited into the forge, Rurik got a good jolt.  There, crumpled on the floor before him, was his own body.  Or rather, he noted with relief, just his armor and some equipment.  His body was gone - probably an effect of the resurrection process.  His magic full-plate armor had been horribly damaged.  Judging by the amount of congealed blood on the floor, Rurik guessed that the giant had sliced him clean in two.  It was surrealistically grizzly.  To his immense relief, though, the only other bodies in the area were those of the flying ogres and the half-mechanical fire giant.  So his friends had prevailed after all! 

The small group eventually made their way up a long shaft and entered an enormous cavern.  Sprawling across nearly a half mile was the ruins of what had once been a great city of admittedly alien architecture.  There were some similarities to dwarven architecture, but the scale was clearly different...larger.  The cavern was dimly lit in an orange-red glow coming from a courtyard along the north side.  Mr. North confidently led them in that direction. 

Rounding a crumbled pile of white marble, they finally got a good look at the dragon and its hoard.  In the center of a circular courtyard was a deep trench in which sat the four missing magical smelters from the refinery.  The dragon was perched on a wide circular platform in the center of the trench; the hot orange glow of the smelters reflecting off its scales only heightened the agitated demeanor of the beast.  Mounds of gold and treasure were arranged about the platform and a single, narrow bridge arched across the trench.  Rurik was stricken by the dragon's fearsome presence, but at the same time had the wits to realize that the dragon had to be relatively young for its species. 

The dragon, which was well aware of their presence, leapt across the trench and glided across the courtyard.  Rurik was convinced that it would burn them all where they stood.  Mr. North, however, called out to the dragon just before it landed. 

"Embertongue!" the Mage of Many Colors yelled.  The dragon pulled up just short of them and landed, stone cracking under its claws.  It regarded the half-elf coolly. 

"You are the dragon Embertongue, daughter of the mighty Pyroclasm, are you not?" Mr. North said. 

"Perhaps," Embertongue said in a surprisingly smooth voice that dripped with cunning and guile.  She studied Mr. North very carefully.  It lowered its head down to the half-elf's level in inhaled deeply.  It was sniffing him, Rurik realized. 

"And I know who you are, half-elf," the dragon said.  Its breath was hot and noxious.  "Why do you trespass in my domain, wizard?" 

"I come to offer an arrangement that should be mutually beneficial," Mr. North said.  "The pedestal upon which you keep your hoard, you've no doubt sensed its powerful magic?" 

"Of course I have," Embertongue snapped. 

"But I am guessing that you have been unable to determine what it is or how it works?" Mr. North said. 

Embertongue paused, as if weighing its response.  "It is an artifact of an ancient race, no doubt," she said.  "I suppose you think you know what it is?" 

"It has taken many years of research," Mr. North said, "but I do indeed know what it is called, what it is capable of, and how to operate it." 

"Indeed," Embertongue said, admirably concealing her interest.  "There are few man creatures I would listen to.  Speak your mind quickly so I may decide whether your proposal interests me or if I should burn you where you stand." 

Rurik was certainly cowed by the dragon, but Mr. North seemed rather comfortable with the situation.  Even the dragon, for its bravado, seemed unusually accommodating to the half-elf.  The implications bothered the dwarf on a deep level. 

"The platform is a magical artifact called the Adonix," Mr. North said, “indeed a relic of an ancient civilization.  They used it to transport people and goods through space and across the multiverse of planes with unerring accuracy.”

“You believe it to still be functional after millennia inactive?” Embertongue said.

“I certainly hope so,” Mr. North said.  “My proposal is this:  I need to use the Adonix to reach an otherwise inaccessible place.  I expect to be gone no more than three days, at which time the Adonix will be used to pull me back here.  As soon as I return, I will share with you all the information I have on the operation of the Adonix, including how to set location coordinates.  I’m sure a dragon of your cunning will find no end to the opportunities such an artifact would give you.”

Rurik didn’t think a dragon could grin, but Embertongue’s posture seemed to convey that impression.  “I believe I find your terms acceptable, wizard,” Embertongue said.

The dragon spent the next couple hours carefully moving her piles of treasure off of the Adonix platform and to a secondary location further back in the cavern.  She trusted no one to help her with the work, so the others merely rested and ate.  The Shadow, having completed his contractual obligation to the wizard, took his leave and disappeared (invisibly) into the shadows.

When the pedestal was finally cleared, Embertongue allowed Mr. North, Pungab, and Rurik to cross the narrow bridge.  The pedestal spanned some thirty feet in diameter.  Inset within the ancient stone were several other circles and patterns.  Mr. North slowly walked around the perimeter, studying the grooves and notches cut in the floor.  Eventually he found what he was looking for – a small circle near the edge of the pedestal.

To no one in particular, Mr. North spoke.  “You see, the Adonix was created by an ancient and world-spanning empire of people called the Taurens.  By accounts, there were many Adonixes, possibly one on each world they inhabited.  They were created as a collaborative effort of their priesthoods, and only a priest of one of their deities can operate the device.

“None of those deities, to the best of my knowledge, are still worshipped on this world today save one:  Moradin.  Young Rurik here, likely the only cleric of Moradin within a hundred miles of here, will operate the Adonix.”  Rurik, under his magical haze, did not feel inclined to refuse.  “Rurik,” Mr. North said, “please put your hand in this circle.”

Rurik complied and placed his hand firmly in the center of the etched circle on the floor.  A tingle of energy pulsed through his arm and the stone came to life at his touch.  A column rose up and out of the floor some four and a half feet.  The top of the column flipped about an axis, revealing a set of ten elegantly crafted dials.  The control panel, as it were, seemed to be set awkwardly high for the dwarf to operate.

Embertongue’s head stretched over the controls to carefully observe the operation.  Mr. North produced a scroll tube from his robes and withdrew a set of instructions he had written previously.  Following his notes, the wizard told Rurik where to set each of the ten dials.

“Excellent,” Mr. North said.  “Now, let’s see if the Tauren craftsmanship has endured through the ages.”  The wizard stuffed his notes back into the scroll tube and handed it to Rurik.  “In exactly three days’ time, you will set the controls as indicated in my notes to return me and Pungab to this Adonix.  After that, I will release you from my spell and you will be free to go about your business.”  Mr. North gave Embertongue a knowing look.  The dragon, of course, would probably have different plans for the dwarf.

“Embertongue,” Mr. North said, “would you be so kind as to try to refrain from eating the dwarf.  Perhaps you could find somewhere safe to keep him until it’s time for our return.  Remember, gaining a working knowledge of how to control and target the Adonix will still require my return.  Should something inadvertently happen and I am not brought back, I can assure you that I will bring my considerable resources to bear upon you at some future date, dragon.”

Embertongue bristled at the open threat, but in an unusual display of self-restraint did not strike out at the arrogant wizard.  She knew who this wizard was and had no delusion as to how a confrontation would end.  Someday, perhaps, the half-elf would be put in his place.  Use of the Adonix would certainly go a long way toward building her power base in the meantime, Embertongue thought to herself.

“Please clear the Adonix, Embertongue,” the wizard said.  The dragon leapt across the chasm and settled in to watch its activation.  Mr. North and his servant Pungab moved to the center of the pedestal.

“Okay, Rurik,” Mr. North said.  “Activation should be very simple.  Place your hand upon the polished black stone below the controls and channel the raw power of Moradin through it.”  Rurik, unable to refuse, did as he was commanded.  Just as he would when turning undead, Rurik channeled raw positive energy through the stone.  The inner circle of the platform instantly glowed a bright blue, which quickly intensified to a blinding white.

Just as quickly as the light had appeared, it was gone.  Mr. North, the Mage of Many Colors, and his demonically armored bodyguard, had been transported away.

“Well, well,” Embertongue said.  “It seems that the old device works after all.  Most excellent.”  Without the presence of Mr. North, Rurik again felt dragon-fear grip him.  

“I suppose I must keep you alive for at least a couple days, dwarf,” Embertongue said as she leapt back to the platform of the Adonix.  “I have just the place in mind to keep you out of trouble.”  The dragon snatched up the dwarf in her claws and flew a short distance across the plaza.  

A tiny building made entirely of stone was one of the few structures in the area that still looked to be intact.  The dragon stuffed Rurik inside and then barricaded the door with several hundred pounds of stone debris from nearby ruins.  Rurik took stock of the completely empty and inescapable building and sat down, dejected.

“Behave, dwarf,” Embertongue called from outside.  “I might even bring you food and water in a day.” 



Next session:  From the Labyrinth they came.


----------



## Rybaer (Aug 21, 2002)

This next little bit I'd originally planned to just drop into one of the next  few posts, summed up in just a paragraph or two.  However, as it sheds some light on Amill's character as expands Lohna's place in the world a bit, I decided to give it a full-blown treatment.



Session #12.15b – Lohna and Amill’s Discovery



The Countess Lohna Goldenoak Graeble of Vineyard Pass and her friend Amill Jaggitt, a psychic warrior from lands far removed, traveled throughout the night in pursuit of the riders who had gone through town earlier that morning.  Lohna was convinced that they could only be trouble for her friends and she intended to do what she could to keep them from harm.  

While she moved quickly in her wolf form, relying heavily on her keen sense of smell to follow the path of the horses, her thoughts turned occasionally to one of the Selmarian Seekers in particular.  She had found a certain fondness for the archer Nigel since the first moment she’d spotted him skulking in the shadows at a party two months earlier.  Part of her attraction was no doubt due to the fact that he was elvish like her – a bit of a rarity in this part of the world.  There was something more, though.  He had an innate strength, not unlike her lost husband.  Nigel was an elvish archer and Rondel had been a human paladin.  On the surface, quite different, but they both shared a certain grit and inner fire.

For hours Lohna pursued her quarry up the coast, navigating the terrain by the sliver of moonlight and sense of smell.  Amill did his best to keep up on his horse.  Eventually, the predawn gray in the sky warned Lohna of the impending dawn.  They had still not caught up with the riders.

Lohna pushed a little further, but eventually had to give up.  “We’ve got to find shelter,” Lohna said.  “I can’t get caught out here when the sun comes up or I’ll be done for.”

The pair was in a rocky and broken terrain, high on the cliffs over the Thunder Bay.  Deep crevasses were common and they soon found a wide crack in the side of one that led far enough back to provide Lohna with the shelter she needed.  She returned to human form and crawled as far back as she comfortably could, using a blanket from Amill’s saddlebags to pad her back against the sharp rock.

Both slept fitfully through a good portion of the day.  Amill eventually left to scout around the area a bit, mostly to alleviate boredom while waiting for the sun to set.  Lohna was even more impatient, trapped in an uncomfortable crack.  The longer the day dragged on, the deeper her sense that something bad was happening to her friends.

When the sun finally set, she again assumed the form of a wolf and set a furious pace.  She scarcely bothered to follow what little scent trails remained because she knew they’d only continue along the cliffs northward.  Amill was grateful for the remaining twilight for it helped him avoid a few shallow pits and rock falls.

Less than two hours later, they came upon a couple horses tethered to one of the few scrubby trees in the area.  The horses seemed a bit agitated, but Lohna chalked it up to her wolf form.  She immediately set about sniffing the area while Amill dismounted and joined the search on foot.

In the area around the horses, Lohna picked up a couple scents.  The faintest were those of humans – probably two different ones, but they were similar enough that she could not be certain.  Another scent, this one much fresher, was one that made her hackles rise:  drow elf.  That the scent was so fresh suggested that he was either still in the area, or had recently left.  Lohna knew that her friends had made enemies of the notorious drow bandit the Shadow, and the coincidence was too much to pass off.

The Shadow was known to rely heavily upon a ring of invisibility.  Lohna knew that would give him an advantage over many foes, but not her.  While she could not see those invisible, her senses of hearing and scent were beyond most any mortal – elf or wolf.  The Shadow would be hard pressed to catch her unaware.

Amill called out to her from a short distance away, his voice barely carrying over the wind and the crashing of the waves on the cliffs below.  She hurried over to him and found the cave entrance he was pointing toward.  She sniffed around the entrance and found the human and drow scents, as well an older stale scent of ogre.

Lohna turned back to Amill and bared her teeth a bit.  Amill took the hint and drew his sword, a brutish falcion sword made of the exotic psychoreactive metal called ferroplasm.  In his hands, he could channel psionic energy through the blade, giving it unusual sharpness and a faint violet glow.  He relied on the blade’s own light to guide him through the dark cave.

Just as the pair was about to enter the cave, a flapping sound from behind caused them to spin about.  A large owl landed not twenty feet away on a large boulder.  It appeared to be agitated in a very un-owl like manner.

Lohna abruptly returned to her elvish form and approached the bird.  “Hooty,” she said.  “What brings you out here on your own?  Shouldn’t you be with Zalman?”  Hooty called back to her, but neither Lohna nor Amill could speak owl.  “This is Zalman’s familiar,” Lohna explained to Amill.

“Hooty,” Lohna said.  “Is Zalman still alive?”  The owl tilted its head in a side-to-side motion.  Lohna wasn’t entirely sure of what to make of that, but believed that the owl didn’t know for certain.  “Why don’t you come in with us, then?”  Hooty flew to a rock next to Lohna and bobbed its head up and down.

The threesome then ventured into the cave.  It ran a short distance back along a well-worn track and came to a collapsed section.  Through the hole, an area of worked stone could be seen, along with the horrid stench of decaying flesh.  Breathing as little as possible, they pushed on.

The cave opened into a small room that, in turn, exited into a long hallway.  An ogre’s body in a room across the hall, several days dead, was but one of the sources of the smell of decay.  Several other ogre corpses littered the hallway along with bloodstains, scorch marks, and broken arrows.

It took only a couple minutes of searching before they found the room in which Nigel’s body lay cold upon the floor.  Lohna let out and involuntary cry as she raced to his side, kneeling in her lover’s congealed blood.  She gasped when she saw that his right hand had been severed.

Amill stood back respectfully.  He warily eyed the two large, perfectly mirrored spheres sitting in the room.  There was something very unnatural about them.  Hooty, the wizard’s familiar, was pecking and flapping at both of them.

Lohna knew in her mind that Nigel had to be dead.  She reflexively searched for a pulse on his neck anyway.  His skin was cool, but not entirely stiff.  Had her senses not been so highly tuned, she might have missed the slightest flutter of a heartbeat.  When she felt it, her own heart skipped a beat.

“He’s alive!” she said.

Amill raised an eyebrow.  “He’s made of tougher stuff than your typical elf, then.”

“Please tell me you have some curative magic with you,” Lohna said.  “I didn’t grab any in my haste to leave and that sort of thing is not within my limited magical repertoire.”

“Actually,” he said, digging through his belt pouch, “I think I actually have a potion.”  He withdrew a small vial of a milky pink liquid.  “It’s about as weak as they come, but it might help stabilize him.”

Lohna carefully propped Nigel’s head up and drained every last drop of the potion down his throat.  In a few moments, Nigel’s color lost a few shades of blue and his severed stump scabbed over.  He did not, however, regain consciousness.

“We’ve got to get him back to my place as quickly as possible,” Lohna said.  “I’m still not sure he’ll survive, but without magic he surely won’t have a chance.”

“And the others?” Amill said.

Lohna finally took a moment to look about the room.  Like Amill, she was drawn to the two large mirrored spheres.  From the back of her mind, a story came back to the forefront of her memory.  She recalled the telling of tales that these friends, the Selmarian Seekers, had told her over dinner the night they met.  One of those tales included how they rescued a powerful wizard from twenty year’s entrapment.  That wizard, Shadykin, had been trapped inside a mirrored sphere, just like the ones before her.  Lohna was not an authority on magic, but she knew in the pit of her stomach that these spheres were the same thing – a stasis bubble.  What was worse, she feared that the very same wizard might have cast them:  Gils Dralon, infamous member of the Black Hand.

“I think the others are beyond our ability to help,” Lohna said.  She figured that at least a couple of the others were stuck in the stasis bubbles.  At least in there they would be safe, if anyone could ever rescue them.  Lohna thought it best to wait until they were well clear of this place before explaining her suspicions to Amill.

The psychic warrior carefully carried Nigel out of the cave and back to the horses.  Hooty gave one last forlorn look at the spheres and decided to follow Lohna and the others.  Without having to follow a trail, they were able to push hard and make it back to Lohna’s just minutes before dawn broke.


----------



## Amill (Aug 21, 2002)

*Fine, I'll bite*

So, Gils Dralon = Mr. North, the self-proclaimed Mage of Many Colors....great...


----------



## Amill (Aug 21, 2002)

*cool*

*Made the first post of the third page...I feel so special...*


----------



## Amill (Aug 23, 2002)

*Bastard*

sword! it's not a bastard sword, it's a falchion, one of those great desert arab type swords. But everything else was pretty cool on Amill. Tough luck for those guys in the stasis cubes, and that sad dwarf and, well, even the elf had seen better times....


----------



## Rybaer (Aug 24, 2002)

*Re: Bastard*



			
				Amill said:
			
		

> *sword! it's not a bastard sword, it's a falchion, one of those great desert arab type swords. But everything else was pretty cool on Amill. Tough luck for those guys in the stasis cubes, and that sad dwarf and, well, even the elf had seen better times.... *




My bad.  At least I remembered it was a big sword.  And I didn't forget the ferroplasm bit.

Yes, this was a pretty low point for the party in general.  Unfortunately, things kinda started falling apart for them when they decided to take on the half-mechanical fire giant.  That was one encounter I really had expected them to avoid.  Oops.

As for the Mage of Many Colors, Mr. North, being one and the same with Gils Dralon, notorious member of the Black Hand...well, that would be the obvious conclusion.  Could it perhaps be a bit _too_ obvious?  Or maybe I'm trying to be _too_ obvious so as to make you think he's really someone else so that he can be one and the same.  Mwahahaha.


----------



## Amill (Aug 26, 2002)

*yeah, well*

It does seem pretty obvious but since I've never had my hand cut off by any of his minions it really isn't a big deal for my character.  And you're right, it is just a big sword.  A rose by any other name....


----------



## Rybaer (Aug 26, 2002)

Session #12.16 - Up from the Labyrinth 

Rurik sat alone in the darkness of a small, one-room stone building. He was hungry and thirsty. He had little concept of time, and would have to rely on the dragon Embertongue to tell him when the three days had passed and it was time to recall Mr. North through the Adonix. 

Rurik knew he was uncomfortable in this situation. He knew that associating with a red dragon was bad business. He felt that there was something equally wrong about the wizard who had gone through the portal. He knew he still had a quest to complete somewhere here within the ruins of Kladish - to rescue some dwarves - but he had little clue as to how he might accomplish that. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he kept trying to cling to the feeling that he was doing the wrong thing and that he was under the wizard's spell, yet he was ultimately unable to break free of it. Rurik only wished to obey the Mr. North's instructions. 

Rurik snapped out of his dazed half-sleep at the sound of rocks sliding away from the door of his cell. He was frightened that the dragon was back, but also a slight bit hopeful that food and water would be forthcoming. It came as a complete shock to him when the figure silhouetted in the opening doorway was not that of a dragon, but of a minotaur. Two minotaurs, actually. 

Rurik cowered in the corner of the room. He was unarmed and weak. Against this well armed and armored pair, he knew he would have no chance in a fight. The two minotaurs slipped into the room and gave the dwarf an appraising look. 

In a form of dwarven so heavily accented that Rurik almost mistook it for a foreign language, one of the minotaurs spoke. "The dragon is out hunting, but will be back soon. We have little time. Are you truly a cleric of Moraein?" 

Rurik tried to clear his head. Moraein? "Moradin," Rurik said. "Father of the dwarves. The Soulforger. Yes, I am." 

"Moradin. Moraein," the other minotaur said. "Must be the same thing. Several thousand years of isolation could do that to a language." 

"You have no idea how grateful we are to see you here," the first minotaur said. "Otha and Minto must have succeeded in getting word to you about our imprisonment here." 

Rurik gave the minotaur a confused look. "Who? Never heard of them." 

The two minotaurs looked at each other, then the first explained. "First of all, I am Klybar and this is Utik.  We've been trapped here for nearly two years," he said. "Early on, we managed to get two of our men past the dragon and its minions, but at a severe cost in lives. Those two, Otha and Minto, have been working in the outside world for some months now, trying to find a servant of Moraein who could help us return to our home world." 

Rurik blinked hard. Then blinked hard again. "Excuse me. Could you maybe start at the beginning? You say you've been trapped here for years? And you were waiting for a cleric of Moradin to save you?" 

"Correct." 

"And are there any dwarves trapped down here?" Rurik said. 

"Not that we're aware of," the Klybar said. 

"Wait a minute," Rurik said. Things were starting to come together in his mind. "There never were any dwarves trapped down here. My quest had been to rescue you guys, a bunch of minotaurs. That anonymous map and request for aid that I received in Water Break was from you guys. No, it was from the two minotaur guards of the Duke's! Those are your men that escaped!" 

"Correct," Klybar said. "Let me sum up...and quickly, because we may not have much time. We are from a modest empire on a world far removed from here. Our nation, the Taurens, was once one of the mightiest people to ever span the universe. Thousands of years ago, the Salien Empire shattered the Taurens, and now only a few small pockets remain. 

"Ours has regained enough of the lost lore to be able to send out expeditionary teams to some of our old settlements, to see if any artifacts can still be recovered. This city, Kladish, is one such place. Our team, which numbered over twenty strong warriors, wizards, and priests, were the advance scouts. Through our Adonix, we were transported to the coordinates of this Adonix. What we hadn't anticipated was the red dragon that had taken up residence. Both the dragon and us were surprised, but it had the advantage. It took to wing and immediately blasted with its breath. Half our number fell almost immediately. The rest fled for cover in the ruins. 

"Eight of us managed to survive, hiding in the Labyrinth under the ruins of the Temple of Tol. The Labyrinth's native life provided enough for us to survive on, but just barely. All of our priests had been slain in the original attack, as had all but one young wizard. We had no way to activate this Adonix to return. Due to some previous problems exploring other ruins, it has become Tauren policy to not send a follow-up team should the advance scouts fail to return. It's a risky but honorable quest to join one of these teams. 

"The dragon and its minions had us pinned down tight. For months we scouted, but it was clear that there was no way to safely escape the ruins. We debated and finally decided to send out a couple scouts into the outside world in hopes of finding descendents of our people - anyone who worshipped one of our gods and who could activate the Adonix. Further, we needed a hero capable of defeating or outwitting the dragon. Six of us created a distraction, allowing Otah and Minto to escape. Two died in that effort, but Otah and Minto made it to the outside world. Using their wits, they survived and put themselves in a position from which to find a cleric. 

"Our wizard was able to use a simple spell to exchange a few words with them at a time, enough to keep informed on what they found. We were dismayed to learn that the sparse descendents of the Taurens had degenerated into little more than feral beasts. The few among these 'minotaurs' who bothered to worship tend to venerate local pagan gods of slaughter and destruction. The dwarves, however, seemed to have survived and thrived." 

"You mean the dwarves and minotaurs lived side by side?" Rurik said, amazed. 

"The Taurens were the heart of the Empire," Utik said. "The dwarves were a servant race to our people." 

"You mean the dwarves were your slaves?" Rurik said, disgusted. 

"Well, in the very beginning, perhaps," Klybar said. "The dwarves quickly earned a place of respect in the Tauren Empire, however, for their skills and craftsmanship. They were admired for their talents and some were even admitted to the priesthood of Moraein, the deity they favored. I do not believe they ever reached positions of political power, though, before the Empire's downfall." 

"So, I suppose you'll be wanting me to send you home," Rurik said. "Meanwhile, I'll still be stuck down here with the dragon." 

"This is the first opportunity we've had in all the time we've been trapped down here to possibly escape," the minotaur said. "From hiding we watched as you activated the Adonix, so we know it works. The dragon's servants are nowhere to be found and the dragon is out hunting. And, most importantly, we have a cleric who can activate the device." 

"You can thank my companions for doing away with the dragon's servants," Rurik said. "As for the Adonix, I might be able to turn it on, but those controls are beyond me." 

"Don't worry about that," the minotaur said. "Our wizard has a copy of the coordinates needed to return to our home. Plus, we don't have to leave you behind.  There is a delay of a couple seconds after the Adonix is activated before the transport occurs.  You're welcome to come back with us." 

Rurik felt the magical compulsion wrestling with his desire to flee Embertongue's lair.  "No, I can't leave.  I can send you, but I must remain here." 

The Taurens gave each other a puzzled look.  "Well, let's get the others so we can use the Adonix before the dragon returns." 

"What are you going to do about your companions who are still back in the Duke's service?" Rurik said. 

"Don't worry about them," Klybar said.  "We'll be back for them with the proper support needed to mount a rescue." 

The remaining couple Taurens, including the young wizard, were quickly brought up from the Labyrinth under the temple ruins.  The lot of them looked bedraggled but hopeful.  Klybar, the leader of the group, urged everyone to hasten.  They assembled on the dragon's platform, the Adonix, and the wizard produced the parchment bearing the precious settings to return them to their homeworld.  Once the controls were adjusted properly, Rurik activated the device and waved farewell to the Tauren party. 

Magically enchanted or not, Rurik knew full well Embertongue would not be pleased to see his cell's door open.  He had no way to close and block it from the outside, so he decided to play it as safe as he could while still staying true to his magical compulsion.  He went back inside the cell and waited nervously for the dragon to return. 

About an hour later, Embertongue returned and immediately noticed his door.  In a rage, she tore the door from its hinges and poked her head inside.  "Dwarf!" she said, her breath heating the room to an uncomfortable level.  "Why is this door open!  Did you open it?" 

Swallowing his dragonfear, Rurik stuck to his plan.  "No," he said.  "A minotaur did." 

Embertongue roared in rage and Rurik swooned in the noxious vapors.  "Blast those foul creatures!  They've been hiding in the rubble for too long.  I should have known they'd come out once my servants were killed."  The dragon pulled her head from the building and surveyed her lair.  "My treasure!" she said and flew off to the far corner to where she'd moved it from the platform. 

Rurik waited for quite some time while Embertongue took inventory.  When she finally returned to Rurik's cell, her temper had become a cold simmer.  "Where did those vile minotaurs go?" 

"I'm not exactly certain," Rurik said honestly.  "They offered me freedom, but I chose to stay here." 

Embertongue scrutinized him, trying to read nuances in the dwarf's blank expression.  "That might be the first semi-intelligent thing a member of your despicable race has ever done.  Stay put."  It piled several thousand pounds of stone slabs in front of the door and went about its business.  From the crashing sounds, Rurik figured the dragon was sealing off some known exits (or entries) to its lair.  When the crashing subsided, Rurik drifted off into a fitful sleep. 

An indeterminate time later, several explosions and the unmistakable shrieking of a dragon in rage abruptly awoke Rurik.  Lights flickered through cracks near the door and Rurik hurried over to take a look.  Rurik observed a truly awesome display in the dim orange glow that permeated the chamber.  Dozens of well-armed and armored Taurens were flying about the chamber, buzzing about Embertongue like angry hornets.  In a wider circle, another dozen Taurens of the wizardly and priestly calling were peppering the beast with powerful spells and protecting the warriors with defensive and healing magic. 

The Taurens had brought a team of some of their most powerful through the Adonix to eradicate the dragon.  With magic specifically prepared for such a foe, Embertongue was sorely outmatched.  A great wyrm might have been able to hold them off for a short while, but Embertongue was still early in her adult years.  Rurik watched as she tried in vain to flee, only to crash awkwardly in the ruins several hundred yards away. 

A few short minutes later the Taurens dug Rurik out of his cell.  Others were already busy hauling the dragon's treasure back the Adonix platform and stripping Embertongue's body of useful components.  A senior cleric, Rublar, and a wizard, Mila, approached Rurik. 

They quizzed Rurik for some time on Mr. North and how Rurik had come to be involved in the activation of the Adonix.  When some of his answers began to raise suspicions, the wizard cast Detect Magic on Rurik. 

"Yup," Mila said.  "He's under a powerful enchantment, probably a compulsion of some sort.  Reasonably clever way to secure a trip back through the Adonix." 

"Indeed," Rublar said.  "Rurik, do you remember what the coordinate settings were that this wizard had you send him to?" 

"No," Rurik said.  "But he did write down the settings I'm supposed to use to bring him back here.  I think they were identical except for the last dial." 

"Yes," Rublar said.  "That last dial merely changes it between sending and retrieving.  May I see the scroll?" 

"Sure," Rurik said.  "I'll need it back, though, to bring him home at the appointed time." 

The cleric looked at the wizard.  "I can take care of this," Mila said as he dug through a satchel of scroll tubes.  He withdrew one and cast the spell written on it, breaking the enchantment that Mr. North had placed upon Rurik. 

Rurik blinked and found that his mind felt a bit clearer.  He handed the coordinates over to the cleric.  "You know," he said, "on second thought, I could care less about bringing that prick home." 

Rublar studied the coordinates for several minutes and then consulted further with one of his brethren.  "It would seem," the cleric said, "that this Mr. North has traveled to one of the deepest, darkest corners of the Plane of Shadow.  It is nearly inaccessible to ordinary magic.  The Adonix may have been the only way short of divine intervention to reach it." 

"What could he want there?" Rurik said. 

"I have no idea," Rublar said.  "No one would dare go there willingly.  I'm not even aware of any account of anyone having gone there and returned." 

"I vote for leaving him there, then," Rurik said.  "He couldn't be up to any good." 

"I'm inclined to agree with you," the cleric said.


Next session:  Kladish conclusion.


----------



## Zalman (Aug 26, 2002)

*Curious...*

So, the fully story revealed!  We, of course, get a full account from Rurik later. (I don't think I spoil anything by saying this...) Yet this is to a degree of detail that we didn't get before.  Rybaer let Rurik explain things and they were a bit...cloudy. Most probably a result of the spell which compelled him to do that which he didn't want to do... and a little guilt.

Alas, I think I will continue to look at the inside of this shiny sphere and have no concept of time...


----------



## Amill (Aug 27, 2002)

*hmm*

(Meanwhile)...loose and fancyfree...heh-heh


----------



## Amill (Aug 27, 2002)

*and another thing*

I guess the Mage of Many Colors is losing a shade or two; I guess the new title would be "Mage of Mono Color".


----------



## Rybaer (Aug 27, 2002)

*Re: Curious...*



			
				Zalman said:
			
		

> *So, the fully story revealed!  We, of course, get a full account from Rurik later. (I don't think I spoil anything by saying this...) Yet this is to a degree of detail that we didn't get before.  Rybaer let Rurik explain things and they were a bit...cloudy. Most probably a result of the spell which compelled him to do that which he didn't want to do... and a little guilt.
> *





Yes, this is pretty close to how things went down.  

In all honesty, things started falling apart when both Rurik and Bommer died.  The party was in bad shape and the survivors were about to throw in the towel.  I really wanted to wrap up the Kladish episode, even if it wasn't quite as satisfying as it would have been had the pc's had a chance to rescue the Taurens from under the dragon's nose.

To keep things a little interesting and suspenseful, I ran each segment with the players privately.  Rurik did his thing and would later have to recount it for the others.  Nigel saw Zalman and Amblin trapped but was helpless to do anything himself, and would later have to tell them that the Shadow was again involved.  Zalman and Amblin's players were completely out of the loop until...well, I'll get to that soon.


----------



## Rybaer (Aug 31, 2002)

Session #12.17 - Kladish Epilogue 


Nigel spent the better part of the next week recovering from the incredible blood loss associated with the Shadow lopping off his hand.  While a priest tended his injuries and Lohna saw to his comfort, Nigel mourned the loss of his friends Rurik and Bommer, and the presumed entrapment of Amblin and Zalman.  From Lohna's description of the mirrored spheres, Nigel came to the same conclusion she had - that Mr. North had entrapped them in the same type of magical stasis bubble in which Shadykin had been captured twenty years earlier.  The implications of a link to Gils Dralon, infamous member of the Black Hand, were frightening. 

Nigel also had plenty of time to stew on the image of the Shadow chopping off his hand and looting his immobile body.  The Shadow had just grinned the entire time.  Nigel changed the vision in his mind to one he could endure holding on to...one of him with his hands (er, hand) wrapped around the dark elf’s throat, slowly choking the life out of the little vermin.  Both the attending priest and Lohna wondered at Nigel's tight grin while he slipped in and out of consciousness. 


Rurik, in spite of all the accolades and praise heaped on him by the Taurens, was full of doubt and concern.  For starters, he had no idea how his companions had fared.  Second, he was worried about the true nature and purpose of Mr. North and his excursion into the deepest parts of the Plane of Shadow.  Perhaps the one thing that gnawed on him the most, though, even as he tried his best not to deal with it, was the fact that the dwarves had come to Myrial as a servant race to a world-spanning empire of minotaurs.  Granted, the Taurens seemed to be much smarter and more civil than stock minotaurs, but it literally undermined his core beliefs.  His ecclesiastical training had taught him that Moradin was the creator of the dwarves.  Now the Taurens had given him reason to believe that the dwarves, at some point in far ancient history, may have latched on to the Taurens’ Moraein as a patron deity after becoming assimilated into their Empire. 

While meditating on his many concerns, Rurik busied himself by reclaiming his armor and gear (what was left behind), and found enough serviceable tools in the ruins to start the daunting repair job.  The Taurens continued to scour the ruins for anything of value or use.  They would frequently stop by Rurik to ask questions about what he and his companions had found while exploring.  Rurik claimed for himself and his church the bars of mithril and the remnants of holy text they had found.  The Taurens could have anything else Kladish offered up as far as he was concerned. 

Half a day later, the Taurens came across something that staggered Rurik:  Two perfect, mirrored spheres in one of the upper levels.  Rurik hurried to the spot in the ogres' lair and knew immediately that these were the same spheres as the one that Gils Dralon had used to trap Shadykin. 

Rurik asked a couple Taurens fetch Rublar and Mila.  When they arrived at the room, the senior cleric and wizard took in the stasis spheres in complete admiration.  They poked and prodded the frictionless surface while Rurik recounted how he and his friends had traveled to the demi-plane of Time to cast Dispel Magic on the previous sphere. 

Early the next day, Rublar, Mila, Rurik, and a handful of other Taurens Plane Shifted to the demi-plane of time to cancel out the stasis spheres.  Rurik hoped his suspicions were correct and that his friends would be back in time for dinner. 


One moment Zalman had been quietly fuming, head buried in a spell book, while Amblin had heard Mr. North casting a spell from the hallway nearby.  The smallest fraction of a moment later, half a dozen well-groomed and well-armed minotaurs were standing in front of them. 

Amblin spun around a couple times as his mind whirled.  Zalman, sensing a change in the room, looked up with a bit of a start.  The minotaurs did not appear to be threatening, but rather were looking at them expectantly. 

"Uh, what happened?" Amblin said.  "Who are you?  Where'd everyone else go?" 

The minotaurs looked at one another quizzically.  One stepped forward and spoke in a heavily accented dwarven that only Zalman, courtesy of his magical crown, could understand with perfect clarity.  "Are either of you Nigel, Amblin, Zalman, or Bommer?" 

Responding in the minotaurs’ own language, Zalman said, "Who are you and why do you wish to know?" 

"Father Rurik sent us to wait here by the reflecting globes," the minotaur.  "He and several others had to travel somewhere in order to end the spell that made the globes.  Father Rurik thought that some of his companions might be trapped within." 

A couple minutes of questioning later, Zalman and Amblin had most of the story.  It finally sank in that they'd been trapped in magical stasis bubbles.  They got a rough version of the story of Rurik's resurrection and his subsequent rescuing of the Taurens from the dragon.  They also told of the dragon's demise at the hands of a couple dozen well-prepared Taurens.  

Rurik would be back soon, according to the Taurens.  Bommer's body was still on the floor beside Amblin.  That just left Nigel's whereabouts in question.  The wide pool of dry blood on the floor between Zalman and Amblin didn't look reassuring. 


The reunion between Rurik and Amblin and Zalman was not quite a celebratory affair.  While they rejoiced at Rurik being alive, they had other concerns.  Adding up the evidence, they were fairly sure that the Mage of Many Colors, Mr. North, was either Gils Dralon or someone closely associated with him.  That worried them, even if the Taurens were convinced that he was likely trapped deep in the Plane of Shadow.  Bommer was dead and Nigel missing.  Zalman was also fuming at Hooty's absence...it wasn't the first time that his familiar was out of telepathic range when he was needed. 

In gratitude for Rurik’s part in the rescue, the Taurens resurrected Bommer.  They also assisted in scrying the location of Nigel, who they found in Lohna's care.  Zalman and Amblin traveled there the next day and heard his part of the story - mostly the severing of his hand and theft of his belongings by the Shadow. 

Nigel deemed himself fit enough for travel and returned to Kladish with the others the next day.  Lohna's other guest, Amill, asked to tag along.  He was interested in poking around the ruins.  Nigel, in his days of bed rest, had found the psychic warrior’s company to be pleasant.  Once at Kladish, the Tauren priests regenerated Nigel's lost hand, simultaneously improving his spirits and his determination for revenge. 

While the others had been away at Lohna's, Rurik talked Mila into teleporting him to Mt. Goldforge where he recounted his tale and findings to the Church of Moradin.  Rurik was hailed a hero, but like Rurik the Church hierarchy had reservations about some of the religious implications.  Rurik negotiated an exchange of religious resources between the Taurens and the dwarves before returning to the ruins of Kladish. 

Once again, the five Selmarian Seekers were together and healthy.  Rurik's quest was complete and they had no pressing concerns.  Amongst themselves, they spoke of what was to come next.  Zalman was exhausted physically and emotionally, weary of nearly (or actually) dying every few days, and was ready to retire in Selmar.  Nigel was bent upon revenge against the Shadow.  Amblin was eager to travel south, to see the great cities along the coast and possibly to one day reach Tet Amir where his monastic order was purportedly based.  Rurik felt age beyond his years, but was game for further travel.  Bommer, after dying, had found that the adventurous lifestyle had lost a bit of luster...but he was one to quickly forget the rough spots in favor of future opportunity.  Amill, the outsider, was just a guy with a sword looking for something to do and somewhere to go. 

The Taurens finally wrapped up their looting of Kladish and prepared to depart.  They gave Rurik and his companions a healthy amount of gold from Embertongue's hoard and then went about disabling the Adonix.  While not completely destroyed, they promised that it would be almost impossible for Mr. North to ever try using that particular Adonix again.  Farewells were said and once again Kladish was a quiet, lost ruins. 


Back at Lohna's, enjoying her company and hospitality, the after-dinner conversation turned to making a decision on where the group’s future was headed.  The debate focused heavily between tracking down the Shadow (which many considered unnecessarily dangerous, even if they did all want to see him dead) and just traveling south with no real goal in mind.  Zalman was still on the brink of declaring retirement, but listened anyway. 

After several hours of discussion, they decided to try to find the Shadow.  If they couldn't track him down, they would then travel south.  If they succeeded in finding and killing him, they would then decide from there what course to take next.  Zalman had enough harbored hatred for the Shadow that he postponed retirement to see this adventure through. 

"How do we go about finding the Shadow, then?" Nigel asked the group. 

"We could try to find Kisty's sister in Water Break," Zalman suggested.  "She's been known to hire him in the past."  It went unspoken that Zalman had a personal vendetta against Misty Goodbread as well. 

"Sounds dangerous," Rurik said.  "She is the head of a thieves' guild, after all." 

"Well," Amblin said.  "We were spied on magically.  Could we do the same to find the Shadow?" 

"Scry him?" Zalman said.  "I don't do divinations, but I'll bet you someone at the Thunder Guild can." 

"Wouldn't mind trading and buying a few more magic items with them, while we're at it," Bommer said. 

"So, to the Thunder Guild then?" Nigel said.  Everyone agreed to the plan. 

Amill looked around the table, and then chimed in.  "Could you use an extra sword?" 

Nigel looked at the others and then at the psychic warrior.  "Would you hesitate to cut down a dark elf with that sword of yours?" 

"No." 

"Okay, you're in then."



Next session:  The vendetta begins...and a creature on the road.


----------



## Rybaer (Sep 11, 2002)

Session #13.1 – Through Water Break 


Having finally agreed to start hunting down the Shadow for both revenge and to recover Nigel's stolen gear, the group decided to leave Lohna's the next morning.  Their lovely hostess bade them farewell and wished them luck and safety against their recent nemesis.  Lohna coyly reminded Nigel to return anytime he wished.  Nigel felt there was the beginning of a wonderful relationship with the Countess, but as they were both elves it was bound to be a long courtship. 

Much as the group did not want to go back to Water Break they had little choice, as it possessed the only bridge across the river for several hundred miles.  Zalman could fly the party across, but not the horses.  They did have one potentially useful stop to make while going through town, though.  Kisty, upon her departure from the group, told them that she'd snoop around for dirt on her sister Misty's involvement with the Shadow and any possible connection to Kladish.  If she found information, she'd leave it with Helga Vie, the proprietor of the Archebus & Battleaxe. 

The group slipped in through the city's north gate, trying to maintain a low profile.  They had no interest in a confrontation with either the Red Cult or Misty's guild of thieves.  A few inquiries led them to the docks where they found the Archebus & Battleaxe, a small rundown tavern that catered to sailors and dockworkers.  As it was still late morning, the only customers in the dark interior were a trio of sailors who were still passed out from the previous nights revelry.  Helga Vie, who appeared to be an average human woman in her late forties aside from her shockingly bright blue skin color, was busy cleaning glasses behind the bar.  She waved them to a table and took drink orders.  The group did their best not to gawk at her unusual skin and she, in turn, did her best to pretend not to notice their efforts not to gawk. 

When she returned with drinks, Nigel inquired after information that may have been left by Kelly, Kisty's assumed name.  Helga nodded, commenting that they certainly fit the description of the group "Kelly" had mentioned.  She fetched a wax-sealed scroll from the back room and turned it over to Nigel, who tipped her generously. 

The note from Kisty was short and contained little they didn't already know.  Rumor floating around the Guild was that Misty had been associating with some powerful wizard, but on non-guild business.  The Shadow had been involved in some way, but again details were sketchy.  Kisty, finding no other useful information, had decided to leave town, though she left them with no details on just where she had planned to go. 

The group promptly left through the city's west gate and pushed their mounts through the muggy late summer afternoon to get as far from Water Break before dark as possible.  The next day and a half on the road was uneventful, though they kept a close watch behind them for possible pursuit. 

They reached the small village that supported the Thunder Guild just in time for dinner after their second day on the road.  Everyone had whiled away the trip daydreaming about dinner at Happy's, and they were not disappointed.  The exuberant halfling welcomed them back to his establishment and cleared a table large enough to hold the six of them.  Large plates of spit-roast mutton, potatoes soaked in butter, carrots, onions, radishes, and steaming bread were brought to their table before they had even settled into their seats.  While the meals at Lohna's had been excellent in a refined taste, the food at Happy's was especially satisfying in the "hungry-after-a-long-day-on-the-road" sense. 

Over ale, wine, and coffee, along with several helpings of Happy's famous bread pudding, the group recounted some of their adventures since last they'd seen the halfling.  He and the other tavern patrons were enthralled at their tales of daring and battle.  The stories were largely watered down, but were more than enough to astound the locals. 

Eager to get on with their quest, the group begged off early and took advantage of the last bit of twilight to make the mile-long hike to the Thunder Guild's estate.  The groom opened the gate for them, taking their horses and welcoming them back.  He indicated that Jamus Tobus, the guild's leader, would likely be in the library or his private quarters. 

In the main house, one of the apprentices led everyone to the guest rooms where they deposited their gear.  They were then taken to the library and presented to Jamus, who welcomed them back warmly.  Late into the night they recounted the tale of their adventures through Kladish and the wizard listened in rapt attention.  He probed for details on every oddity, magic item, and creature they had encountered along the way. 

When the story wrapped up, Jamus rose from his seat.  "Well, that is a fascinating tale and I can't say how glad I am to see you all again.  I, however, have been a selfish host.  Here you are, falling asleep after a long day of travel, and I'm begging you for stories.  Please, retire for the night and we will speak more in the morning." 

Most of the group took his advice and returned the guest rooms, quickly falling asleep in the soft beds.  Zalman and Nigel stayed behind for a minute, though.  "We do have a couple bits of business," Zalman said.  "Some of which may be easier to deal with if done so in a timely manner." 

"Tell me," Jamus said. 

"For starters," Zalman said, "we have a number of new magic items that we need identified." 

"Easy enough," Jamus said.  "I'll have the apprentices start first thing in the morning.  What else?" 

"The Shadow," Nigel said.  "He's been a thorn in our side for months, not to mention all those he's slain in his role as a bandit.  We've decided to hunt the vermin down once and for all." 

Jamus raised an eyebrow at the elf’s seriousness.  "I see.  And how does that involve me or the guild?" 

"We need help finding him," Zalman said.  "We'd like your help scrying him.  I'm no good at divination, but I was hoping someone here is." 

Jamus looked back and forth between Zalman and Nigel for a long moment.  "I can scry, though I'm not especially gifted at it.  I do have a decent mirror to use.  Let us get some sleep and in the morning I will prepare the necessary spells.  I won't offer to join you on this quest of yours, but I'm willing to give you a little help to get you started." 

"Thanks," Nigel and Zalman both said, then joined their companions in a good night's sleep.



Next session:  Scrying and lots of heads.  *LOTS*


----------



## Amill (Sep 11, 2002)

*hmmmf*

I guess one of the few times this group didn't take the place down like a bunch of rock stars. I guess I have to attribute that to my calming influence


----------



## Zalman (Sep 11, 2002)

*heh!*

For those of you who are reading this and do not already know, Zalman is a specialist wizard - Summoner.  When I created the character I decided that I would pick a couple of schools that would definately cause a little "trouble".  I can't cast any Illusions or Divination spells.  No illusions removes quite a few useful items, such as invisibility - which would have been very handy many times.  And Divination being gone means I can't Scry or, ahem, Identify magic items.  All throughout the game the players, particullary Nigel, loved to rib me about it.  I must say that I enjoyed it, too.    To anyone considering specialization I strongly recommend picking a MAJOR school to be unable to cast from. It really added some neat dimension to my character's character.


----------



## Rybaer (Sep 11, 2002)

*Re: heh!*



			
				Zalman said:
			
		

> *For those of you who are reading this and do not already know, Zalman is a specialist wizard - Summoner.  When I created the character I decided that I would pick a couple of schools that would definately cause a little "trouble".  I can't cast any Illusions or Divination spells.  No illusions removes quite a few useful items, such as invisibility - which would have been very handy many times.  And Divination being gone means I can't Scry or, ahem, Identify magic items.  All throughout the game the players, particullary Nigel, loved to rib me about it.  I must say that I enjoyed it, too.    To anyone considering specialization I strongly recommend picking a MAJOR school to be unable to cast from. It really added some neat dimension to my character's character. *





Indeed.  This, of course, spawned the "Toaster Oven of Identify."

Zalman's specialization has made things a wee bit easier on me, though.  Adjudicating illusions can be a bit tricky and I haven't had to come up with hardly any divination readings.


----------



## Amill (Sep 12, 2002)

*heh-heh*

Well at least now I know which school to specialize in if my current character dies. I think a gnome to boot would be good also; deep gnome, that is...(I know how much Mr B loves non-standard characters...)


----------



## Amill (Sep 17, 2002)

*hey B*

When you gonna finish this one up so we  can start posting to the new one? I think our new characters are cool...definitely new and improved over these old hacks...well, maybe except for that nigel fellow...


----------



## Rybaer (Sep 17, 2002)

*Re: hey B*



			
				Amill said:
			
		

> *When you gonna finish this one up so we  can start posting to the new one? I think our new characters are cool...definitely new and improved over these old hacks...well, maybe except for that nigel fellow...  *





Yeah, yeah, I'm working on it.  Actually, just finished up the next post.  This one's pretty tame, but things soon go from bad to worse to really friggin nasty for the party.  And that's including the coolest trap I've ever designed...(which, much to my surprise, actually killed a character...no spoiling the surprise for y'all just yet, though).


----------



## Rybaer (Sep 17, 2002)

Session #13.2 – Surveillance


Bright and early the next morning, the group met up with Jonas.  He led them up to his cramped and crowded study.  From out of the corner, the wizard dragged a tall rectangular mirror of exceptional quality.  He wiped a few cobwebs away with his sleeves and cleared room for everyone to gather around.

“Okay,” Jonas began.  “I can try scrying a couple times today.  While you will probably see color and light coming from the mirror, the spell will be attuned only to me.  Therefore, I’ll do my best to describe what I’m seeing.”

Jonas cast the spell and the mirror darkened.  He peered into it for a moment before coming to the conclusion that the area he was looking into was pitch black.  Zalman offered up the darkvision goggles he’d made during their previous stay with the Thunder Guild.  With those on, Jonas was able to give them a description of the scene.

“Okay, I see the Shadow.  Looks like he’s sleeping.  He’s on a pallet on the floor of a smallish square room.  No window, just one wood door.  There are lots of blankets or lengths of fabric hanging off the walls…but not tapestries.  Where the bare walls are exposed, they appear to be cut stone.  Everything has a dingy appearance to it.  I’d say he is underground.

“Next to the Shadow are some clothing and gear and a couple weapons.  There is a pair of small chests along one wall.  Near the door is a small bookcase, mostly filled with curios but there are also a dozen or so books.  The only other piece of furniture is a small table with two chairs.  On the table are a half-used candle, a couple more books, and a plate and goblet.”

Nigel asked for clarification on the weapons, but was disappointed when Jonas was unable to describe his stolen long sword.  As the Shadow was sleeping, there was little else to gain from further study.  Jonas answered further clarifying questions and then ended the scrying.

“I guess it’s no surprise that he’d be sleeping during the day,” Zalman said.  

“Try again later this afternoon, then?” Nigel asked.  They debated the best time to try again and settled for about an hour before sundown.  If he were sleeping now, he’d almost certainly be awake by then.  For the rest of the day, the group went about their own personal business – training, studying, and tending their gear.


In the early evening, the group all reassembled in Jonas’ study to listen in on the next scrying session.  Jonas cast the spell and immediately reached for the darkvision goggles.  

“Still in the dark,” he said.  “Ah, he’s awake, though.  He’s still in an area of cut stone, but now it looks more like a hallway…a dead end, more specifically.  The hall turns a sharp left and I can’t see much.  On the dead end side, there is a crack in the wall about a foot wide.  The Shadow is pulling on a chain, dragging something up though the crack.  Okay, looks like he just pulled a bucket out of the crack.  He’s unhooking it and carrying the bucket away with him.

“He’s walking down the hallway now.  It looks to be about thirty or so feet long.  At the far end, it turns left again.  There is a door on the right side of the hall and a stairway branching off to the left.  He’s taking the stairs and they go up.

“Okay, top of the stairs and it’s another hallway.  Several closed wood doors along the length.  He’s taking a right into the hallway, and then another right down another short hall to a door.  Everything here is the same cut stone construction.  Looks dank and old.

“He’s going through the door now, and it looks like a small room with another door.  There’s something in the ceiling, too.  A trap door leading up, maybe?  The Shadow is going through the other door.  Hmmm…okay, another room.  This one is a bit bigger, rectangular.  It’s got lots of barrels and shelves full of sacks and jars and such.

“The Shadow just grabbed something off a shelf.  A plate.  Ah, I see.  This looks like storeroom full of food.  He’s picking through various containers and filling his plate with a variety of dried foods.”

The scrying spell’s duration expired before the Shadow finished putting together his meal.  The group had Jonas reconstruct the layout of the place as best he could from memory.  They probed for more detail.  The Shadow was fully dressed and carried his gear and weapons with him, so it was possible that he did not feel entirely safe in his hideout.  They had seen no signs of anyone else with the dark elf, so he may not have assembled a new band of thugs since the group had killed off his previous bunch.

“This may just be his breakfast,” Bommer said.

“I agree,” Rurik said.  “We need to try to get a look at him while he’s outside so we can get some sort of a reference point.”

“Jonas, can we try this again tomorrow?” Nigel said.  “Are you limited to doing this twice in a day?”

“Sure, we can do it again tomorrow,” Jonas said.  “And I’m afraid that twice in a day is my limit.”

After a brief discussion, they decided to wait until just after sunset the following day before trying to scry the Shadow again.


Shortly after dinner the next day, the group again assembled in Jonas’ study.  Hopes were running high that they might learn something more useful today.  The wizard positioned his mirror and cast the spell.

“Drat,” Jonas said.  “It’s dark again.”  He slipped on the goggles and then cocked his head in a puzzled expression.  

“He’s not there,” Jonas said, “but my scry locked in on a tight spot.  Looks like a vertical shaft, only a couple feet in diameter, with metal ladder rungs fixed into the side.”

“He’s probably invisible,” Nigel said.  “He likes to do that a lot.”

“Well, I guess that shouldn’t be too big of an interference,” Jonas said.  “It doesn’t seem to interfere with the scry finding his position.  He seems to be at the very top of the ladder rungs and there is a trap door of sorts.

“Ah, okay, he’s opening it, though very slowly.  It looks like it opens into a box of some sort.  Not very big, but there’s enough room for him to pull himself up inside it.  Okay, I see that he’s pushing up on the top of the box…must be a lid.  Very tiny crack, but there’s actual light coming through it now.  Pretty dim.  

“Okay, he’s lifting it up now…probably climbing out.  Interesting.  He’s inside a room of sorts, though much of it is nothing more than stone rubble.  There’s an open doorway leading into an outdoor courtyard.  I think he’s probably checking it out as he’s not moving very much and is being exceptionally quiet.  The courtyard is in poor condition.  All flagstones, but lots of sizeable weeds growing up through the cracks.  I can see a couple doorways and a well.  Not much else to speak of.  The sun just set, so at least he’s not in some far away land.

“Ah, he’s on the move now.  Not fast, but purposeful and very, very quietly.  Moving through the courtyard, around to his left.  Ah, there’s an open doorway leading to a shallow dirt ramp down.  That leads into a very heavily wooded area less than a hundred feet away.  Looks like he’s following the road into the woods.

“I’m looking backward as he’s moving to the woods.  The place he came out of looks like a very old keep or stronghold.  It’s not big at all, but it does have heavy stone walls and a couple towers.  It’s built up on top of a small rise.  Was probably fairly defensible in its day, but now it doesn’t even have a front door.

“Drat,” Jonas said.  “Spell just expired.  Want me to cast the next one now and follow him?”

“I’d say we give him a half hour or hour before we try again,” Nigel said.  “Otherwise, we’ll just get to watch him hiking through the woods.  If’ we wait, we might learn his destination.”

“I agree,” Zalman said.  “An hour?”  Everyone nodded in agreement.  “Jonas, could you possible sketch what the building looked like from the front?”

“Sure, though I’m not much of an artist.”

“We already know that the Shadow and his band were known to do most of their banditry to the southwest of Water Break.  We encountered them between High Hill and Unicorn Valley.  It’s pretty reasonable to assume that he has a hideout in that region.  It’s all heavily wooded, so there are plenty of places to hide.

“Now, that cavalry patrol we hooked up with shortly after our first encounter with the Shadow should know that region pretty well.  I’m thinking that one of them might be able to recognize this old keep and point us in the right direction.”

“Good idea,” Nigel said.  “I’d still like to know more about what he’s up to these days so that we can best plan how to ambush him.  If we can’t hit him by surprise, he’ll almost certainly be able to slip away with that teleporting trick he tried on us last time.”

“I’ve got a Dimensional Anchor spell all prepared for that,” Rurik said.  “But we still have to keep him close for it to work.”

“Good.  Let’s see what the next scry can tell us,” Nigel said.  They passed away the next hour debating the best ambush tactics with the personnel and spells they had at their disposal.


The fourth scry gave them something they hadn’t quite expected.  It appeared that the Shadow was taking advantage of the last bit of dusk to do some fishing.  Seemed that the dark elf liked fresh food once in a while, and by the look of it he’d had a little bit of luck already.  The pond he was fishing at was modest in size, perhaps two hundred yards wide, and was surrounded by heavy woods.

“Whoa!” Jonas suddenly said.

“What is it?”

“I think he just spotted the scrying sensor,” Jonas said.  “He’s looking right at me and just drew his sword.”

“Is there anything he can do about it?” Amill asked.

“No,” Jonas said.  “Unless he’s a wizard, there’s little he can do to harm the sensor.  He probably doesn’t even know what he’s seeing.  If he’s smart, though, or has spent much time around wizards, he might be able to guess what it is.  It’d be safe to assume that he now knows someone is looking for him.”

“How’s he reacting to it?” Zalman said.

“Well, he just seems to be holding his ground,” Jonas said.  “Oh, he did go invisible again.  I think he’s just waiting to see if something happens.”

The spell expired without the Shadow moving more than a couple feet.  This last scrying session, they felt, may have done more harm than good.  They now had a small pond as additional reference, but the Shadow might have been alerted to someone scrying on him.

Deciding to work off Zalman’s recommendation, the group made plans to leave early the next morning.  They would cut southeast through the hills until they hooked up with the road between High Hill and Unicorn Valley.  From there, they’d continue on to Unicorn Valley and the patrol’s way station there unless they came across one of the patrols sooner.  Maybe the description and drawing of the ancient keep would be the link to finding the Shadow. 


Next session:  I'll actually get to the "lots of heads" bit.


----------



## Amill (Sep 17, 2002)

*Cool*

Yeah, I remember your trap, quite nasty in fact. I remember Amill was absent for this session but luckily he showed up for the nasty stuff in the next part.


----------



## Rybaer (Sep 17, 2002)

*Re: Cool*



			
				Amill said:
			
		

> *Yeah, I remember your trap, quite nasty in fact. I remember Amill was absent for this session but luckily he showed up for the nasty stuff in the next part. *





Amill's player, at this point, was just joining the group and was going to be on an every-other week schedule.  So, in his backstory, I had a bit about him adventuring with a mediocre wizard.  They were going to bash through a door and ambush some ogres, and the wizard suggested that he could cast his scroll of "Etheral Jaunt" on Amill so that he could slip through the walls and hit the ogres from the other side.  Something during the casting went wrong (crit failure on casting a higher level spell from a scroll), and now Amill's body phases in and out of the etheral plane every now and then.  Conveniently, he's etheral when his player is absent. 

(The wizard perished in the attack.)


----------



## Rybaer (Sep 17, 2002)

Session #13.3 – The No-win Situation


The group collected up their gear and thanked Jonas and the rest of the Thunder Guild for their help and hospitality.  Shortly after sunrise, they were mounted up and on their way.  They expected to be going cross-country for the entire first day as they cut southeast toward the road between High Hill and Unicorn Valley.  The terrain was gentle hills, mostly grass covered, with frequent pockets of light woods.

Hooty flew well above and ahead of the party, scouting for anything unsavory.  Amlin, walking on foot with his new dog, generally led the rest of the party by a hundred yards or more.  Everyone else stuck close together on horseback.

During the first day on the road, Hooty spotted a pair of hill giants and a small group of dozing trolls.  The familiar easily routed them around any encounter.  They passed the first night away uneventfully in one of Zalman’s conjured huts.

The second day on the road proved to be a bit more exciting.  By mid-morning, they found the road and started heading east toward Unicorn Valley.  They were already a little bit beyond the spot where they had come upon the Shadow and his thugs ambushing a wagon several months back.  On the south side of the road, the woods were considerably denser and the open grassy hills all but disappeared.

For half the day they traveled and met no one.  Hooty was taking a rest break on Zalman’s shoulder when crashing sounds in the woods to their right jolted everyone out of their thoughts.

Moments later, a rather large hydra burst out of the woods and onto the road, almost exactly halfway between Amblin and the rest of the group.  It immediately charged the majority of the group and it was all they could do to keep to the saddles of their shaken mounts.  Rurik, in fact, was thrown from his horse, which immediately bolted in the opposite direction.  The dwarf, realizing that he wouldn’t be able to outrun the beast, quickly drew his axe and shield.

Zalman didn’t like the situation or their odds.  Through his study of monster lore, he knew that there are several different species of hydra and that each has different immunities and means by which best combat it.  He was completely unable to tell what kind this one is, though…aside from being very large and having eight heads.  (Fumbled Knowledge: Monsters roll.)

Amblin ordered his barking dog to stay put.  The monk then closed the hundred-foot distance between him and the hydra in a single leap, delivering a sharp kick to the creature’s back.  He fondly recalled the stunning blow he had planted on a hydra-like creature on the demi-plane of time and was looking to recreate that bit of history.

Nigel and Bommer both dismounted.  Nigel quickly fit an arrow in Star Slayer and let the arrow fly right into the base of one of the creature’s necks where it crackled with released electricity.  The hydra seemed largely unconcerned, however, and continued to bear down on Rurik.  Bommer, giving the creature a wide berth, circled around to the backside where he hoped he’d be able to find an opening to the creature’s spine.

Zalman stayed on his mount.  He wanted to be able to flee quickly if this fight turned against them.  He directed Hooty to scan the rest of the area to make sure nothing else was going to join the fight.  In the meantime, he moved his horse off the road a bit to get a safe angle from which to hit the hydra with a lightning bolt.  Much to his dismay, the hydra scarcely flinched.  He was getting a very bad feeling about this fight.

Rurik endured the first couple snapping bites of the hydra and then stepped up close so that his axe could reach the base of the creature’s necks.  He swung Sleet hard and felt it cleave through one of the necks, dropping one of the eight heads to the ground.  He immediately hacked away at another head, but only grazed it.  The wound almost instantly closed up.  Rurik made mental note to himself – it was all or nothing on each attack he made, either the head came off or it would just heal.

Amblin continued to spring in and out of the hydra’s reach, each time planting a hard kick to the hydra’s body in hopes of stunning it.  The creature seemed very resilient to the attacks, though, and only a couple heads even bothered to peer around at the disturbance.

Bommer soon joined Amblin around the creature’s backside and tried to stab it several times in areas that looked soft and weak.  His short sword bit into the hydra’s flesh repeatedly, but each time the wound simply closed up.  It did annoy the hydra enough than a couple of the heads reached around the back and snapped at him.

Nigel continued to pepper the hydra with electrically charged arrows.  He soon came to the realization that the hydra was completely oblivious to them.  As much as he didn’t want to close into melee with the beast, it was becoming clear that chopping off heads was going to be the only way to bring it down.  He shouldered Star Slayer and drew out the long sword that he was using until the day that he recovered his flaming long sword from the Shadow.

Zalman continued to hit the hydra with a variety of spells, hoping to find something that would bother it.  In the back of his mind, though, he was wracking his memory for details on how to slay these things.

Rurik’s heavy armor and magic shield saved his life, protecting him from the worst of the hydra’s attacks.  Several had gotten through, however, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stand toe-to-toe with the hydra for much longer.  Retreating would just give it more chances to snap at him, so he chose to stick it out and hack away some more.  Sleet swung true and another head dropped.  He really wished there was someone else in the thick of things with him, if for nothing else than the moral support.  He really missed Boaz at that moment.  The new guy, Amill, would probably have been a great deal of help with that big falchion.  Too bad he was in his utterly useless ethereal phase right now.

Nigel finally closed in to give Rurik a hand.  He managed to hack through one of the creature’s necks, bringing it down to just five.  Two heads bit back at him in return and Nigel gritted his teeth in pain.  It was going to be a tough fight, the elf knew, but as the heads continued to fall it would get easier quickly.  Then something happened that caused him to almost panic – from out of one of the severed stumps, two new heads sprouted out.  Almost immediately, these new heads joined the fray of snapping and biting.

Rurik hadn’t missed the growth of the new heads.  While he was busy trying to lop off another one, two more heads sprouted from another of the stumps.  The creature had started with eight heads.  They’d whittled it down to five, but now it had nine and presumably a couple more on the way from the third stump.

“Zalman!” Rurik yelled.  “How the hell do we kill this thing!?”  He felt a bit of panic welling up from within as well.

Zalman was frustrated at the mental block he was experiencing over how to deal with this type of hydra.  He was pretty sure that all of the heads had to be removed simultaneously.  He also thought there was a way to prevent new ones from growing back, but the mechanism eluded him.  Acid?  Fire?

“I really think we need to flee!” Zalman said.  He knew they didn’t have the time to find out the means by which they could drop the beast.  Even if fire or acid would cauterize the stumps, he had only one Fireball and one Melf’s Acid Arrow memorized.  That wouldn’t be enough to handle all the heads.  Until his friends could get clear, however, he fired an Acid Arrow at the remaining stump where it sizzled and popped.

Rurik was taking a pounding, and Nigel had taken a few bad bites already.  In spite of Zalman’s call to flee, they were both too close to it to safely withdraw.  Amblin and Bommer both continued to hammer it from the backside, but to no avail.  Two more heads were severed, but more just kept coming back.  During a moment when there were two exposed stumps, Zalman cast his one Fireball spell.  He targeted toward the backside of the hydra, in hopes of keeping Rurik and Nigel out of the spell’s area.  He knew that Bommer and Amblin were both quite adept at rolling out of the way of harmful spells.  The fireball went off and successfully cauterized two more stumps.

In spite of their minor success, the hydra still had eight heads and as much bloodthirsty energy as it had started the fight with.  Rurik and Nigel were in bad shape.  The dwarf finally had to pull back far enough to heal himself a bit.  Nigel suffered a few more bites in the meantime, though, and was at risk of being taken down.

“That’s all I’ve got for useful spells, guys!” Zalman called.  “I’m leaving now.  I suggest you all do the same.”  He was frustrated that his companions hadn’t made more of an effort to retreat.  True to his word, though, Zalman turned his horse around and started to head off.

Amblin told Bommer to pull back and get to one of the horses.  Amblin, of anyone in the group, was in the least amount of danger from the hydra due to his incredible speed and mobility.  Bommer heeded Amblin’s advice and hurried back to the horse he shared with Nigel.

Rurik stepped back into the fray long enough to plant a curative spell on Nigel, then the two of them fled from the hydra as quickly as they could.  Nigel let Rurik hop on his own horse with Bommer while he ran along on foot.  Amblin stayed back long enough to taunt the hydra off of his companions, and then he too fled, calling his dog after him.

For some time the group fled on horseback down the road to the west, back toward High Hill.  They were encouraged by the fact that the hydra was pretty slow on its feet and Hooty reported that after a while it lost interest in pursuit and had wandered back into the woods.  Rather than press on for the day, they found a secluded spot well off the road and made an early camp.  The encounter with the hydra had drained them and they needed time to rest and recover.



Next session:  A lead to the Shadow's lair, and unexpected residents.


----------



## Rybaer (Sep 17, 2002)

Well, the hydra encounter was completely unexpected, even to me.  I don't run random encounters terribly often.  When the group is out in the countryside or camping, though, I'll usually roll for a chance of something wandering along.  On this particular day, I rolled an 01 on my percentiles.  Generally, an encounter is warranted for a 05 or less or an 03 or less, pending on the locale and my mood.

So, I rolled a couple more dice to give me an approximate challenge rating (10 in this case, which should be fine for a party of 5 8-9th level characters).  I then rolled another die and consulted the CR10 monsters in the MM, immediately discounting anything that wouldn't be naturally occuring in the area.  

Thus, the encounter with an 8-headed Lernaean hydra began.  Not being entirely up to speed on my hydra lore, I quickly read the entry.  Hmmm...immune to all attacks.  Can be killed by chopping off all the heads or use of a few select spells.  Of course, the heads grow back at a 2-to-1 rate a couple rounds after being severed.

Wow, I'm thinking to myself.  Too bad these guys don't have much chopping ability.  Amill, who would have probably been the most beneficial party member, was ethereal while his player was out for the night. 

The fight lasted a very long time.  I'm surprised that they stuck it out as long as they did.  There were a few times when it looked like they were gaining ground on it in the head-count race, but they would probably never have been able to drop it without a major shift in strategy.  Had Zalman not fumbled his monster lore check, he'd have been able to offer some more useful advice up front that would have either helped them win or convinced them to flee immediately.

Not a very satisfying encounter, but I suppose they probably learned something from it.


----------



## Rybaer (Sep 18, 2002)

Session #13.4 – Timberline Keep


On the day following the encounter with the hydra, the group returned to the road and resumed their trek east toward Unicorn Valley.  With considerably more attention paid to the wood line from which the beast had charged them, they pressed on hard through the late summer day.

Just before dusk they arrived at the village of Unicorn Valley.  Wasting no time, they made straight for the local militia barracks and found it locked.  When no one replied to their knocking, they instead went to the small tavern for drinks and dinner.

The tavern was stuffy, but the smell of food pulled them in.  They soon recognized one of Lord Trebain Durlock’s lancers sitting at the bar.  Nigel, Rurik, and Zalman immediately joined him while the others found a table and ordered dinner.  The officer recognized them and explained that he was the only military man in town at the moment.  The rest of the lancers were out on patrol.

Nigel produced the sketch of the small keep that Jonas had made for them from his scrying and asked whether the man knew of the place.

“Can’t say that I’ve seen it,” the lancer said.  “There are several small places like that in the region, though, mostly abandoned since the war.  One of the local woodsmen might have a better idea.  If’n you like, I can show that drawing around a bit, see what I can learn?”

“Sure,” Nigel said.  “We’ll be here eating.”

A short time later, the lancer returned with some welcome news.  “Yer in luck!  One of the old trappers recognized the place.  Says it the Timberline Keep, about ten miles southwest of here…deep in the woods.”

“Know anything about the place?”  Zalman asked.

“Not much,” the lancer said.  “Now that I know the name, though, I’m pretty sure that I remember hearing that a patrol checked the place out about a year ago when the Shadow and his band were still pretty active.  Didn’t find anything but weeds and a few animals, I guess.”

“Are there any paths or roads out that way?” Nigel said.

“The trapper said it’s pretty isolated these days,” the lancer said.  “I’m sure any paths have long since become overgrown.  Hardly anyone dares go out that far anymore, anyway.”

They thanked the lancer for the information.  They also related their encounter with the hydra and suggested that he might want to have the patrol hunt the creature down.  The lancer was surprised to hear that a hydra was out in the woods, having only heard about the odd one or two occasionally sighted near the marshlands further west.

With dinner concluded, the group left for the outskirts of the village where Zalman conjured up a secure hut for sleeping.  The short-term plan would be to penetrate the woods and find the keep.  After that, they would plan the specifics of an ambush for their nemesis.


The next day brought a welcome break to the heat and humidity.  For the first couple hours, the group traveled on the road back toward High Hill.  Then, picking a more or less random point, they veered south into the woods.  Bommer engaged the magical ability of his Raven’s Cloak and polymorphed into a raven.  Zalman cast Fly on himself.  Between Bommer, Zalman, and Hooty, they scouted the forest by air while the rest of the group traveled on ground.  A loose line-of-sight chain was made so as to avoid losing those under the heavy foliage.

Within a couple hours, Bommer finally spotted the keep.  It was a fair distance off, though, so he circled back to the others and got them pointed in the correct direction.  Zalman sent Hooty off to do some discreet surveillance of the keep while Bommer remained closer to the others for navigational purposes.

By late afternoon, they had closed to within about half a mile of the keep.  Nigel called a halt to rest and develop a plan.  Hooty reported back to Zalman that he had spotted two hill giants residing within the ruins.  No sign of the Shadow.

“Hill giants?” Rurik said.  “Think they’re allies with the Shadow?”

“Doubtful,” Zalman said.  “Remember Jonas’ description of how the Shadow left the keep?  He was very sneaky, even while invisible.  It’s possible he lives under the keep and the giants aren’t even aware of his presence.”

“Handy little first line of defense he’s got there,” Bommer said.

“Yeah,” Amill said.  The psychic warrior had returned from his ethereal form earlier that morning.  “If we try to engage the giants, he might hear the fight and know there’s a problem.  And we can’t afford to leave the giants unaccounted for.”

“We could set up an ambush at the pond where Jonas saw him fishing,” Amblin said.  “That’d probably be far enough away from the giants.”

“Yeah, I saw the pond while flying,” Bommer said.  “It’s about half a mile away from the keep on the opposite side from us.”

“The only problem there is that we don’t know how often the Shadow goes fishing,” Nigel said.  “He might only go down there once in a great while.  Do we really want to sit around waiting for days or weeks?  On top of that, we don’t know exactly where along the waterline he fishes.  If he comes down there invisible, it’s far more likely that he’ll spot us than we will spot him.”

“Does anyone have a magical means by which to see the Shadow if he’s invisible?” Bommer asked.

“Yes,” Zalman and Nigel said simultaneously.  “My circlet lets me perceive the invisible continuously,” Zalman said.  “And Star Slayer lets me see invisible as well, though only for a brief time and only once a day,” Nigel said.

“That doesn’t give us much coverage if Zalman’s the only one who’ll be able to see him coming,” Bommer said.  “Sounds like the pond is going to be too big an area to cover for an ambush.”

“Agree,” Zalman said.  “Much as I’d rather get farther away from the keep for the ambush, the best place is going to be on the path leading out there.  If we’re all in the woods, we’ll be difficult for him to spot.  I can be somewhere up near the wood line.  When I see him coming, I’ll give a signal.”

“When you do that, I’ll activate Star Slayer and get my ability to see invisible going too,” Nigel said.

“Right,” Zalman agreed.  “Then, as soon as he reaches the wood line, you start plugging him full of your sharp pointy sticks.  Everyone else will then have a stream of arrows to follow to the Shadow.  In the meantime, I’ll fire off a Glitterdust or two.  He’s got resistance to magic, so it might not stick the first time.”

“Can you do that Invisibility Purge thing again, Rurik, if Zalman’s Glitterdust fails?” Amblin asked.

“Yeah,” Rurik said.  “But first I want to Dimensional Anchor his sorry butt so he can’t slip away from us.”

“Good call,” Zalman said.  “You’ll need to be able to find him for that though, right.”

“Hmm, yeah,” Rurik said.

“I’ve got another idea,” Zalman said.  “Invisibility cannot conceal a light source.  Just in case my Glitterdusts don’t stick, let’s have a back up plan.  As soon as I give the signal that he’s coming, let’s have Rurik cast Light on the fletching of one of Nigel’s arrows.  Nigel will then stick it into the Shadow, because of course there’s no chance he’ll miss a shot like that.  It’ll make a nice little beacon for everyone else.”

“What do you want the rest of us to do?” Amblin said.

“The key here is going to be to drop this guy as fast as possible,” Zalman said.  “We’ll need you, Bommer, and Amill to close to melee.  Kick him, stab him, stun him, whatever it takes to kill him as quickly as you can.”

For the next couple hours, they sketched out and plan and went over contingencies and minutiae.  They wanted to be ready for anything, but most importantly they did not want to fail.


Two hours before dawn, the group packed camp and made for the keep.  They wanted to use the darkness to cover their approach.  Once they reached the keep, they skirted around the hundred-foot wide clearing that surrounded it until they reached the path.

Zalman found a spot in dense cover right next to the wood line and about twenty feet to the left of the trailhead.  Bommer and Amill were about thirty feet behind him in the woods.  So dense was the foliage, however, that they could scarcely see any part of the keep.  They would be relying upon Zalman’s signal to know when the action was about to start.

Amblin parked himself near the trail, but about sixty feet back.  As long as he could use the cleared path, he could easy close that distance to the Shadow in mere seconds.  Nigel and Rurik were positioned together on the opposite side of the trail from the rest.  They could not see the keep well, but they had a good hiding spot from which they could see both Zalman and the trailhead. 

Now that the plan had started, no one was to speak or move until Zalman gave the signal.  They knew it was likely they’d have to wait all day to get a chance at the Shadow, but for all the hardship he’d caused them they were prepared to endure it.

While everyone settled in and tried to get comfortable, Zalman telepathically asked Hooty to do some more discreet surveillance.  The owl casually flew between various tall trees surrounding the keep and tried to get a look inside.  

About an hour after dawn, Hooty made his first sighting.  “Yo, Z!” the familiar said in Zalman’s mind.

“What is it?” Zalman telepathically projected back.

“There’s a giant climbing up the stairs,” Hooty said.  “Looks like he’s going up to a platform on the back side of the place.”

“That’s fine,” Zalman said.  “Just keep an eye on him.”

A minute later, Hooty spoke up again.  “Uh, a big eagle just landed on his arm.”

“Huh?” Zalman said.  “That sounds odd for a hill giant.”

“Looks like he’s feeding it,” Hooty said.  “Maybe even talking with it.  Oh, wait, it’s flying away now.”

Zalman pondered it for a while and then gave up trying to find meaning in it.  “Just stay out of sight and keep an eye on the giants.”

About an hour later, Hooty startled Zalman out of the wizard’s quiet contemplation.  “Uh, Z, bit of a problem.”

“What’s that?” Zalman said.

“There aren’t just two giants here,” Hooty said.  “I see three of them.  It also looks like they’ve got a pet.”

“What kind of pet?” Zalman asked.

“Look for yourself,” Hooty said.  “Two of them and the pet are headed your way.”

Just as the familiar had reported, Zalman saw two of the hill giants heading out the keep’s broken doorway and down the path toward them.  There was one male and one female, both toting large wood clubs.  Sauntering between them was a grizzly bear.

“I think you really ought to move,” Hooty said.

“Yeah, I’d love to,” Zalman said.  “Unfortunately, that’ll just give away our position.  Besides, the others will just jump into action and assume that it’s the Shadow.  We’ll just have to hope our hiding spots are good enough to conceal us from them.  The undergrowth is pretty dense here, so we might have a chance.”

The giants strolled along rather nonchalantly, but just before they entered the woods the grizzly bear stopped cold.  It perked up its head and sniffed the air.  A moment later, it looked right in Zalman’s direction, bared its teeth and growled deeply.

The thoughts going through Zalman’s mind at that very moment have been deleted for inappropriate content.



Next session:  Tangle with the giants.


----------



## Zalman (Sep 19, 2002)

Our little group, which is known for not planning our attacks very well, finally got it together.  Everyone knows what their roles are:

Rurik - Primary fighter, healer when needed
Amblin - jump in and out, fighter
Bommer - sneaky back-stabbing little sucker
Amil - Fighter (when there)
Zalman - Spellcaster and summoner for additional support creatures
Nigel - Pointy Stick man, back up fighter if needed

Okay, so we know our roles and now we have actually PLANNED for a fight.  How could we lose?  I'm looking for invisible Shadow, Hooty is keeping an eye out.  It would go down something like this:
1. I see Shadow and hit him with a lightning bolt
2. Rurik will cast LIGHT on an arrow and Nigel will stick it in the Shadow.  Everyone else comes running.
3. Rurik casts dimensional anchor, I start summoning a Dire Ape.
4. Rurik does and invisibility purge and everyone goes to work on the Shadow

Hmmmm, I still think it is a bad idea to plan in front of the DM....


----------



## Rybaer (Sep 19, 2002)

Zalman said:
			
		

> *
> Okay, so we know our roles and now we have actually PLANNED for a fight.  How could we lose?
> 
> Hmmmm, I still think it is a bad idea to plan in front of the DM....   *





Much as the players might want to believe that I deliberately snubbed their plans, it's completely untrue!

No, I had created a trio of hill giant druids (along with their grizzly bear companion) long before things got to the planning stages.  I also had no intention of leaving them couped up in the ruined keep all day.  I half expected the party to either lure them far from the keep to deal with them quietly, or to find some means by which to avoid them altogether.  Oh well.

So, the entire time they were discussing their ambush plans, I had to hold my tongue...knowing all along that the giants would likely get to them first.  On the upside, for a group that so enthusiastically ignores cooperative tactics, I was rather pleased to see them working on ways to maximize their potential.

Had they actually been able to initiate their plan against the Shadow, it almost certainly would have worked.  Alas, reality turned out to be a much different animal.


----------



## Amill (Sep 20, 2002)

*Pretty good*

I remember having Amill construct some webbing for the magic hut Zalman created. Not very significant, but I remember somebody bringing up the idea that if we had camouflage for the hut, it would be even better. I was still getting used to the group and the 3ed rules, so I decided Amill would use one of his psychic abilities, minor creation (or someother such name) just as a way of presenting one of his special traits. Other powers would be displayed in the fight with the giants (to good effect I thought). Just trying to develop a name for this guy...


----------



## Zalman (Sep 23, 2002)

We never actually thought that Rybaer changed his plans or made additions just because he listened to us make plans.  Just like pretending Lhona is a vamp we like to give Rybaer a hard time about this, too.


----------



## Rybaer (Sep 23, 2002)

Zalman said:
			
		

> *We never actually thought that Rybaer changed his plans or made additions just because he listened to us make plans.  Just like pretending Lhona is a vamp we like to give Rybaer a hard time about this, too.   *





Did I ever say Lohna _wasn't_ a vampire?  Of course, not a one of you has ever had the courage to just ask.  Then again, no sense upsetting a good relationship by bringing up a silly thing like undeath.


----------



## Amill (Sep 24, 2002)

*enigma's*

We could have asked but that is so rude;and you know our bunch are such pleasant sorts...


----------



## Rybaer (Sep 28, 2002)

Session #13.5 - Really Big Druids


As the hill giants' pet grizzly bear descended upon Zalman's position, the wizard had to do some fast thinking.  If he opened the fight with a blast from his wand of lightning bolts, he'd clearly give up his position to the giants...and would probably be reduced to pulp before any of his friends could aid him.  Opting for a safer tactic, he quaffed a potion of Invisibility and tried to slide further back into the woods, using a tree trunk for cover from the incoming bear.

Amill, the closest to Zalman, was the second member of the ambush party to realize they'd caught the wrong target.  He spotted the grizzly moving quickly toward Zalman, as well as the giants at the beginning of the trail.  Calling upon his psionic training, he Enlarged himself to nearly the same size as the hill giants.  He stepped out of his cover and hurled his bolas at the grizzly bear's front legs.  Somehow, in spite of all the vegetation, the bolas hit true to their mark and wrapped up the grizzly's front legs, tripping it.  Amill then drew his ferroplasmic falcion and moved to engage in melee.

The others quickly recognized the presence of a threat.  Nigel used Star Slayer's to grant himself See Invisible and Rurik cast Light upon Nigel's first arrow - just as their plan to ambush the Shadow had called for.  Bommer and Amblin, further back in the woods, sensed conflict but could not clearly see the threat.  Bommer slipped into the woods and started moving quickly but silently toward Nigel and Rurik.  Amblin hurried down the trail.

The hill giants were sharp enough to realize that there were multiple opponents in the woods, and everything was shaping up to look like an ambush.  Not willing to pass up a fight, however, they both moved into action.  The male hill giant hefted the small tree trunk that passed for his club and moved to meet Amill just inside the tree line.  The female, much to everyone’s surprise, started casting a spell.  She had heard the crunching of Amblin and Bommer further back in the woods, so she targeted her Entagle spell back there.  Amblin and Bommer both slipped through the grasping branches and shrubs, leaving Amblin’s dog as the only one seriously hampered.

The grizzly easily snapped the bolas that had tripped it up and promptly turned on Amill.  While Amill worked to fend off both grizzly and hill giant, Zalman took advantage of the moment to summon a dire ape in a flanking position behind the grizzly.

Amblin, half the height and about a quarter the weight of any of the four melee combatants, began spring attacking.  He focused on the male giant, trying to take some of the heat off of Amill.  Nigel, disappointed that the Shadow wasn’t among the targets, settled for pumping the male giant full of crackling arrows.  Rurik realized that he wouldn’t have to mess with Dimensional Anchor or Invisibility Purge, so instead he hefted his axe and shield and prepared to demonstrate dwarven giant slaying tactics.  Bommer had circled around behind Nigel and decided to try to sniper in some ranged sneak attacks rather than face the devastating strength of the giants up close.

For a fleeting moment, fate smiled upon the female hill giant.  Amblin, Rurik, Nigel, and Bommer were in a perfect line with one another.  Furthermore, they were all pretty close together to one another.  The giant took advantage of the moment and called forth a Wall of Hornets, laying it down across the four companions.  Instantly dozens of the vermin planted painful stings on every inch of exposed flesh.  The hornets’ venom caused severe muscular twitchiness in several of them.

While the others were rolling out of the cloud of hornets, Amill took a furious beating from the giant and grizzly.  While he was capable of dishing some respectable damage of his own, he lacked the heavy armor to stand toe-to-toe for long.  Zalman’s summoned ape helped pull a little attention from Amill.  Zalman, meanwhile, maintained his invisibility by not casting any offensive spells.  Instead, he closely studied the female giant, ready to try and counter any spell she started that he didn’t like the look of.  He was also keeping out an eye for any sign of the Shadow.

Rurik took a quick survey of the situation and decided that Amill needed healing very badly.  Dodging the giant’s club, he planted his hands on the psychic warrior’s knee (he scarcely reached the Enlarged Amill’s belt) and healed most of his injuries.  

The combined focus of attacks on the male hill giant finally caused him to drop.  The female summoned a swarm of bats, centered on Amill’s position, and then waded into melee herself.  She also took a moment to yell for help.

Amill sidestepped the swarm, taking several bites in the process, and continued to pound on the grizzly.  With the dire ape’s help, the bear finally collapsed under a dozen deep slashes from blade and claw.

Rurik enthusiastically engaged the remaining giant, leaving her with several frostbitten cuts across her thighs.  Nigel and Bommer continued to rain arrows upon her from a distance and Amblin repeatedly planted kicks to the back of her head in hopes of stunning her.  

The giant quickly realized how badly outnumbered and outclassed she was.  She crossed half the distance to the ruined keep and then turned back to cast a spell.  Zalman identified it as Spike Growth and decided that he didn’t want to see her complete it.  He cast Dispell Magic to counter and successfully negated her efforts.  The giantess, under the withering and relentless attacks, lasted only long enough to shriek a few curses at the group.

The third giant, who had been inside the keep, was just now coming into view.  Seeing the bodies of the two giants and grizzly, he immediately turned tail and fled back into the keep.  Hooty telepathically informed Zalman that the giant was vaulting the keep’s side wall and fleeing into the woods.  Zalman relayed that information, but wisely no one offered pursuit.

“Great,” Nigel said.  “So much for the ambush.”

“Think we could set it back up?” Amill asked as Rurik healed the rest of his substantial injuries.

“Doubt it,” Zalman said.  “There’s no way we could clean up evidence of the fight sufficiently to escape the Shadow’s notice.  If he suspects something, we quickly lose our edge.”

“Besides, we can’t be sure he didn’t hear some of the yelling and fighting,” Nigel said.

A mixed consensus was reached that it would be best to go down below the keep immediately.  They felt that they had to press what little bit of surprise was left and hope that they could get their nemesis before he escaped.


Next session:  The Shadow's welcome.


----------



## Tuerny (Sep 28, 2002)

Nice update. So will this be Shadow's day to die?


----------



## Amill (Sep 28, 2002)

*Stupid giants*

If they hadn't been messing with spells, I think they would've dropped a couple of us...lucky us  

"Nice update. So will this be Shadow's day to die?" 

You know, Tuerney, that was the plan but...I'll let Rybaer field that one...


----------



## Rybaer (Sep 28, 2002)

Tuerny said:
			
		

> *Nice update. So will this be Shadow's day to die?
> 
> *





My only reply to that:

"Mwuahahaha"


----------



## Zalman (Sep 29, 2002)

I'lll spill the beans... Yes, in the Shadow's Lair, death awaits....


----------



## Tuerny (Sep 30, 2002)

But for whom?


----------



## Amill (Sep 30, 2002)

*Why*

Do you always spill the beans? Don't tell these guys about the "Beans of Death"


----------



## Rybaer (Oct 3, 2002)

Session #14.1 – The Shadow’s Welcome


Having decided that time was of the essence, the group quickly scoured the ruins of Timberline Keep for the trapdoor to the sub-levels.   Within the crumbling main tower, they found a built-in stone box, the bottom of which was removable.  Underneath was a narrow hole with evenly spaced rusted iron rungs for a ladder descending into darkness.

Amblin, the quickest and most nimble of the group, led the way.  About ten feet down, he felt a sharp prick in his finger.  He might have blown it off as a mere splinter was it not for the burning sensation that immediately followed.  All the muscles in his body started to slacken and it was all he could do to hold on to the rungs.

“Poison!” Amblin said, only loud enough for Bommer above him to hear.  The halfling spread word up to the others and then slipped past Amblin by way of Spider Climb.  He gave each rung and quick inspection and marked two rungs with white chalk to identify those with poisoned needles.

The chute emptied into a small square room with two doors.  Rurik called upon Moradin to purge the poison from Amblin’s body while Bommer checked both for traps on the doors.  Through one of the doors was the pantry – barrels of dried and salted foods as well as shelves full of jars.  The other door opened into a short hallway that split left and right.  

Amblin and Bommer led the way, everyone else listening intently for hints of the Shadow’s presence.  In the next hallway were three more closed doors as well as a stairwell leading down.  Again, Bommer quickly checked the doors and found them not trapped.  Two had to have their locks picked, but it was simple work for the halfling.  Each of the three rooms appeared to be bedrooms, furnished with a mish-mash of presumably looted goods.  There were no occupants and no dark elf, so they pushed on down the stairs.

In the hallway, at the very top of the stairwell, Amblin triggered a pit trap.  He had little difficulty in jumping back out of the way, but the resultant crash from the trap door falling open removed all doubt that the element of surprise had been lost.  Amblin and Bommer looked down into the exposed pit.  It was at least twenty feet deep and lined with ugly iron spikes.  A few moments after the trap door came to a rest, a large blade swung out of the lining of the pit, just clearing the spikes.  Amblin silently thanked his training as falling into that mess would have been rather painful.

Moving quickly and with less regard for stealth now, the group descended to the second sub-level.  A hallway ran left and right and a single door was set in the wall opposite the stairs.  Down both directions, the hall only went a short distance before turning again.

Bommer inspected the door for traps while Nigel and Amill peered around the corner to the right.  There they found a dead end with a foot and a half wide crack in the wall.  An empty bucket tied to rope sat on the floor.  

“That would be the well,” Nigel whispered to Amill, who nodded in agreement.

Bommer cleared the door and they swung it open, finding a small room stuffed with boxes, crates, and sacks of various loot.  Nothing appeared to have any exceptional value.

Down the hall to the left, Bommer was the first to peer around the corner from his position hanging on the wall of the corridor.  He saw that the hallway extended another fifteen or twenty feet and turned left again.  Just as he was going to continue, a figure stepped around the far corner – a dark elf.

Bommer, along with Amill, had never actually laid eyes upon the shadow before.  Amill had joined up with them after their last encounter with the group’s nemesis and Bommer had been dead during their brief encounter down in the ruins of Kladish.  From all the stories, however, Bommer instantly recognized the Shadow.  The Shadow stopped short with a look of surprise, uttered a single word, turned and fled.  All in the group heard the footsteps fading, followed almost immediately by a door slamming shut.  Zalman recognized that one word, a vile expletive in Undercommon, though the others had little difficulty in guessing its meaning.  Finally, their quarry was at hand.

Before Bommer could turn and tell the others what he’d seen, most everyone was already reacting.  Zalman, who had cast Fly upon himself rather than climb down the chute, zipped past and over everyone else, hurling down the hall at a tremendous speed.  He reached the next corner and found a short passage with three closed doors.  Brandishing his wand of Lightning Bolts, he used his crown’s power to make certain the Shadow wasn’t hiding invisibly.

Rurik, unusually quick to react, wedged himself past Bommer and Amblin and charged after Zalman with Sleet in hand.  Halfway down the hall, he stepped on an unseen pressure plate.  The entire fifteen-foot length of hall fell away beneath the dwarf and he plunged thirty feet.  The bottom of the pit was lined with three foot long rusty spikes, and was filled with about two and a half feet of fetid water.  Rurik cried out as several spikes drove through weak spots in his armor.

When the floor had fallen away under Rurik, a thick steel plate fell from the ceiling and essentially created a new wall flush with the far side of the pit.  Zalman found himself completely isolated from the rest of the group, blind in the pitch darkness, and on the same side of the wall as the Shadow.  To balance those poor odds, he quickly summoned a dire ape.

Amblin and Bommer, neither of whom were able to offer much help to Rurik, both Spider Climbed on the walls across the pit to see if there was a way through the steel wall.  Amill pulled a length of rope off his belt and tossed and end down to the floundering dwarf.

Rurik extracted himself from the spikes, but immediately recognized another problem.  Half a dozen giant leeches, each a couple feet in length, had latched on to exposed spots of skin.  He could feel his blood being drained away at an alarming rate.  Through his panic, he heard Nigel and Amill yelling at him to grab the rope.  Rurik did so, and started climbing while they hoisted him up.

Rurik was scarcely halfway up the pit when a certain realization hit him.  Nigel saw it in his old friend’s eyes while the skin under the dwarf’s beard turned white and then blue.  Rurik lost his grip and fell back into the pit, impaled upon spikes and lost under the foam of thrashing leeches.

The cleric was dead, and Nigel knew that this time he wouldn’t return from Moradin’s Hall. 


Next session:  Pursuit and a new ally.


----------



## Tuerny (Oct 3, 2002)

Oh my God!

They killed Rurik!


Those bastards!!!!


----------



## Rybaer (Oct 3, 2002)

Tuerny said:
			
		

> *Oh my God!
> 
> They killed Rurik!
> 
> ...





Yeah, well, the body count is far from complete...

...and the characters were mighty peeved once they started to realize what was going on...

...but that will have to wait for the next post.


----------



## Zalman (Oct 3, 2002)

*Cool...*

Let me see...

I'm in a pitch-black corridor...
Cut off from my friends...
Alone with the Shadow...
Switching between low-light so I can see something and See Invisible so I can see the Shadow...
I have summoned a Dire Ape and sent him down the hall to "kill" what he finds...

Alone with the Shadow... just me and him.

He's screwed!  I'm gonna take him down!


----------



## Rybaer (Oct 3, 2002)

Okay, I suppose I'll offer up an explanation of the full extent of the trap that Rurik set off.  

What the group didn't realize was that the Shadow, along with his cursing, fleeing, and the sound of a door slamming shut, were all part of an illusion.  The illusion was created by a former associate of the Shadow's - a gnome illusionist who had been killed several months earlier.

See, the Shadow realized that one day someone would finally track him down at his hideout.  He had several nasty traps installed, or improved upon ones that had been made long ago.  He figured that the first few traps would make any intruders more cautious, and less likely to set off this particularly nasty one.  So, he had the illusionist create a visual/audible illusion of him...reacting in an appropriate manner to the presence of intruders.  This was intended to draw the intruders into reckless pursuit...directly into the trap.

The Shadow would have been very pleased to know just how well it worked.

From my point of view, I thought this was a clever and appropriate trap.  I also figured it was unlikely to cause any serious harm, given that those who always led the way were also the most nimble (Bommer, Amblin, and Nigel)...and would probably make their Ref save to leap out of the way.

When they rolled initiative for pursuit of the Shadow, Zalman had the highest with Rurik right behind.  Everyone with high dex and/or Improved Initiative all rolled really badly.  Go figure.  Zalman was safe because he was flying.  I had bad vibes when Rurik went next, though.

The giant leeches were basically just slightly scaled up stirges.  The Con drain, on top of his fall/spike damage, killed Rurik in 2 rounds.  (Rurik didn't have a very high con, in spite of being a dwarf and a cleric.)  I think if Zalman had not been stuck on the other side of the steel wall he might have been able to kill the leeches fast enough to save Rurik...possibly by detonating a fireball in the pit.

I felt bad for the loss of such a long-standing character.  The dice sometimes fall that way, though.  Even a good roll (initiative) can sometimes come back to haunt you.  I worked out an idea with the player for how to work him back in...so while the others sought a way through the steel wall, he rolled up a new character.


----------



## Amill (Oct 4, 2002)

*Goodbye Good Rurik*

Rurik's death was pretty nasty besides being a damaging blow to the party. I remember Amill started throwing up as his memory flashed back to his days with his evil Yuan-Ti masters and the cruelties they imposed upon their servants/slaves. 
I remember also with Zalman trapped on the other side of that big door that it seemed a pretty dark moment for the party as well.  I was surprised to see Rurik go down so quickly.


----------



## Zalman (Oct 7, 2002)

It was pretty much one of those moments where we looked around the table and went "ugh!"

Rurik, the cleric, had died.  The party had no healing potions.  I was trapped on the other side of the wall with the Shadow.  Up to now my spells had never been very effective.  He had some sort of magic item that gave him magic resistance - I was worried.  Lightning bolts and Fireballs would only make him laugh... I needed someone with a weapon.  

Our original plan was to confront the Shadow with Rurik, Amblin and Amil.  Nigel would offer archery support while Bommer floated around trying to get some good backstabs. (Of course, the level of the Shadow in Rogue probably prevented backstabs - but that's metagame thinking...) I was going to provide support by getting some extra creatures into the fight to preoccupy his mind and sword so that my companions would not take the brunt of his fighting.  I was going to pull a Dire Ape or croc to keep him busy.  

Rurik is dead (Zalman does't know that...)


And I'm alone.

Crap.


----------



## Rurik (Oct 7, 2002)

Finally!  The shadow!
This time I will kill him!
Ha ha...I got the jump on everyone!  That means I get to him first!

Trusty _Sleet_ is ready...my fantastic shield is waiting...my platemail is in wonderful shape...*HE'S MINE!!* 

All I have to do is run across this...hey...where'd the floor go?

ouch

leeches?

gimmie that rope...I'll get outta here and.................


----------



## Rybaer (Oct 26, 2002)

Session #14.2 – Chasing Shadows


Amblin and Bommer, both clinging to the walls over the pit courtesy of Spider Climb, were painfully aware of Rurik’s demise below them.  They set aside their grief to focus on the needs of the living – namely, Zalman.  Both frantically looked for a way to get through the steel plate wall that separated them from the wizard and the Shadow.

Zalman, isolated from his companions, was very concerned about a direct confrontation with the Shadow.  If the dark elf closed with him in these tight quarters, the wizard’s life would become a footnote in history of failed adventurers.  The summoned dire ape filled much of the corridor and Zalman used the cover to put his back against the end of the hallway and cast a Shield in front of him.  He urged the ape forward, and it promptly smashed through one of the three doors and poked around for any foes.  Zalman cast Light upon a wand blank and tossed it into the room behind his summoned critter.

Zalman cautiously peered in the room behind the ape.  It was full of loot from the Shadow’s banditry, mostly small furnishings, tapestries, cloth, and tools.  There was no dark elf, though, so he urged the ape to come back and try another door.  While the ape bashed through the second door, Zalman decided to pull a play out of their Kladish adventure.  He summoned a thoqua up against the steel door.  Its incredibly hot body started melting through the steel within seconds.  

Satisfied that his friends would be able to get through soon, he turned his attention back to the room his ape had just broken in to.  The second room was again had some loot.  It was smaller and contained mostly bags and small boxes on shelves.  There was little of interest and again no dark elf.  Zalman sent the ape through the third door and down the stairwell that was behind it.  

Amblin and Bommer were having no success in finding a way through the steel wall.  They were discussing some wild options when the lower portion of the wall began to glow bright orange.  Molten steel dribbled down the side of the pit, quickly solidifying like iron golem blood on ice.  They saw the thoqua squirming around, melting through the door and part of the stone floor underneath.  When a big enough opening presented itself, Amblin slipped through, wincing as he suffered a couple minor burns in his haste.

Amblin was relieved to see Zalman still alive.  “Where’d he go?” Amblin asked.

“Didn’t find him in either of these rooms,” Zalman said.  “I sent an ape downstairs to continue looking.”  The sound of doors being smashed echoed up the stairwell.

“Right,” Amblin said.  “I’m going after him.  The others might need a hand getting over here.”

While Amblin virtually leaped down the entire staircase, Zalman turned back to the thoqua.  The hole in the steel was big enough now that he dismissed the elemental.  Bommer slipped through next, slightly singed for the effort, and carefully followed after Amblin.  The flying wizard, meanwhile, ferried Nigel and Amill across the pit.  Zalman was devastated to learn of Rurik’s death in the pit trap.  Like the others, he buried his grief behind a burning drive for vengeance.

Amblin found Zalman’s dire ape in a large room on the third sub-level.  The ape was methodically smashing down the dozen wood doors that lined the perimeter of the room.  Amblin quickly identified the room as a prison, each door leading to a small holding cell.  One door, to his right, was heavier than the others and bound in iron.  The monk assumed that it was probably another exit rather than a cell, and figured the Shadow had probably gone that direction.  He checked the door and found it locked.

The others soon joined Amblin and the dire ape.  Bommer checked the heavy door for traps and then proceeded to pick the lock.  The dire ape vanished after smashing into four empty prison cells.  Amill and Nigel, peeking through the bars on the remaining cells, were surprised when they found one occupied.

A haggard yet buff looking half-orc was chained to the far wall of the cell.  He was dressed in filthy rags, yet the hard look in his eyes suggested a depth of character that belied his current hardship.  “Please,” the half-orc rasped, “let me out of here.”

“Who are you?” Amill asked.  Some of the others in the room were becoming aware of the presence of a prisoner.

“My name is Feng,” the half-orc said.  “I’ve been a prisoner of that drow for a couple months now.  He and some of his companions hit a small caravan I was travelling with.”

Amill and Nigel exchanged a knowing look – could they trust this guy?  The Shadow always seemed to have a trick or two up his sleeve.  Could this be an illusion?  Could the half-orc actually be an ally of the Shadow’s?

“Did you hear anyone come this way?” Nigel said.  “We think he might have come down here.”

“I’m not sure,” Feng said.  “I heard some distant crashing from upstairs, followed by the door at the top of the steps being smashed.  Something came down here, and then started smashing through the cell doors.”

“But you didn’t hear any door open and close down here?” Amill said.

“No,” Feng said.  “Can’t say that I did.  Now, please, let me out of here.  If you’re after that fiend of a dark elf, I would gladly join you.”

Nigel quickly conferred with the others, and the consensus for the moment was to leave him.  They were in a hurry and didn’t want to take the additional risk of being duped by an unknown element.  Nigel told Feng to hold tight and that they’d be back for him.  Amill was more inclined to let the half-orc out, but the party had spoken.

Feng, a devout follower and cleric of Kord, would not let this opportunity for vengeance slip him by.  “Kord, grant me your strength to break these bonds so that I might help hunt the one who killed my comrades and imprisoned me here.”  The half-orc felt his stiff muscles swell with divinely granted energy.  He flexed his arms and felt the binding chains snap.  Many times during his imprisonment he’d tried to break free, but now it seemed that Kord had seen fit to make it happen.  In the euphoric glow of Kord’s grace, he grinned and proceeded to bash his way through the cell door.

(DM note: This was an impressive introduction for the party’s new cleric…run by Rurik’s player.  He used his strength domain ability to try to break through the chains, and then with his first ever roll as a cleric of the god of strength, he got a natural 20.  Fitting?  Prophetic?  Well, that remains to be seen…)

Bommer had just finished picking the heavy door’s lock and opened it when the party heard Feng snap through his restraints and bash through the cell door.  Several were highly suspicious at the apparent ease with which he broke free, but upon seeing the raw strength in his bearing, they chose to keep silent.

“I insist on joining you,” Feng said matter-of-factly.  “I will see that drow dead, even if I must kill him with my bare hands.”  

“Fine,” Nigel said.  “Just don’t get in our way.”  They scrounged up a weapon and shield for him to carry.

Amblin and Bommer led the way down the newly revealed corridor, with the rest cautiously following.  Amblin tripped a pressure plate that launched a trio of spears down his direction, but no one was injured.  Thirty feet ahead, the hall split in a “T”, with one door down the left branch and two to the right.  Bommer quickly searched the two doors down the right hall and Amblin and Nigel opened them once cleared by the halfling.  One was decorated as a bedroom, though it didn’t match the description of the Shadow’s quarters.  The other door led to a small armory – weapons and bits of armor stacked on shelves.  Feng quickly perused this room and found a serviceable greatsword and chain shirt.  Then, as if guided by Kord, he spotted his holy symbol cast aside in a dark corner under a shelf.

Zalman, casting caution aside in the name of haste, decided to open the remaining door down the left hallway.  In doing so, he found yet another purple worm poisoned needle on the backside of the handle.  The wizard could feel his muscles weakening by the second, yet he remained able to carry his staff and backpack.  He shoved the door open, brandishing his wand of lightning bolts.  From Jonas’ scrying narration, Zalman immediately recognized this room as the Shadow’s quarters.  However, there was no Shadow.  

The others joined him and they checked behind all the tapestries to make sure their nemesis wasn’t hiding.  Zalman looked over the couple books lying upon the small table and was somewhat surprised to see that they were basic texts on the fundamentals of spell casting.  Nigel emptied the small chests in the room and was disappointed to find that none of his stolen gear was present. 

“Well,” Nigel said, “We’re out of rooms.”

“Secret door?” Zalman asked.

“Yeah, good bet,” Bommer said.  “I’ll start scouring the walls.”

“I’ll join you,” Nigel said.  “Zalman, why don’t you check for any residual enchantments or magic means of escape.  The rest of you just keep an eye out.”

“I’m going to head back upstairs,” Amblin said.  “Just in cast he’s hiding and waiting to sneak past us on his way back up and out.  I’ll plant myself in the stairwell to the first level.”  

While the search started for secret doors, Amblin quickly slipped back up the steps to the second level.  Using spider climb, he crawled through the hole in the steel wall and across the pit containing Rurik’s body.  Just as he reached the other side, he heard a voice from behind…uttering a sharp and derisive word in a vile but unrecognizable language.  He spun back around to face the pit, expecting an attack from the invisible Shadow.  No attack came, but he could just make out the sound of retreating footsteps and a door slamming shut down the hall he’d just come from.

Amblin hurried back across the pit and checked the hall.  All three doors were still open.  Then, a painful realization hit him.  “Zalman,” he yelled downstairs, “get up here!”

Zalman hurried up the stairs as best he could in his weakened condition.  “What is it?” he said.  

“Just stand here by the stairs and pay attention,” Amblin said.  “Tell me what you see.”  The monk crawled back to the other side and stepped into the corner.  Again, the foul word was uttered, followed by the sound of footsteps retreating and a door slamming shut.  Zalman, meanwhile, watched as an illusion of the Shadow manifested before his very eyes, followed by the audible cues of him retreating and slamming a door shut.  Then the illusion vanished.

“Well?” Amblin said as he made his way back.

“Yup,” Zalman said.  “It was all just part of a trap.”


Next session:  More exploring...and more headaches...


----------



## Rybaer (Oct 26, 2002)

The death of Rurik was a bit of a surprise to me.  I really hadn't expected any of the traps to threaten the characters...just keep them on their toes.  Rurik had a remarkably low Con for a dwarven cleric, and thus was very susceptible to the blood-sucking giant leeches.

So, when Rurik died, I realized it might be another couple weeks of gaming before the group finished up their hunt for the Shadow.  I didn't want the player stuck with nothing to do.  Fortunately, I had a prison cell area already mapped out on the next level.  The player outlined an idea for a new character and already had him mostly rolled up by the time the players reached the cell block.

Worked out remarkably well.  That he nat 20'd his first ever roll...using the strength domain ability...well, that was just cool.


----------



## Zalman (Oct 27, 2002)

These characters - and the players for that matter - had not delt with illusions very much.  (since they are hard to adjudicate we pretty much left them alone)  When Rybaer threw one at us we of course assumed it was legit.  

Score - Rybaer 6 kills, Bommer 3 deaths, Rurik 2 deaths, Zalman 1 death.


----------



## Amill (Oct 28, 2002)

*Score!*



			
				Zalman said:
			
		

> *
> Score - Rybaer 6 kills, Bommer 3 deaths, Rurik 2 deaths, Zalman 1 death. *




The sadder part is he's not done yet...


----------



## Rybaer (Nov 1, 2002)

Session #14.3 – Down the well


Amblin and Zalman spread the word about the illusion of the Shadow being merely a lure into the trap that took Rurik’s life.  Just as frustration was about to boil over, however, Bommer found a secret door.

Carefully concealed behind one of the many swaths of cloth hanging about the walls of the Shadow’s room, Bommer revealed the narrow passage.  Cut out of rough earth, the bolthole was little more than a foot wide and twisted as it descended.  Bommer led the way down the passage, very alert for traps and invisible dark elves.

Less than half a minute later, Bommer called back to the others that it dead-ended at another stone wall.  He found a release latch and swung it open.  The small circle of daylight directly above and the dark pit below revealed that the passage opened up somewhere in the middle of the keep’s well shaft.  Rusty iron rungs set in the crumbling stone formed a crude ladder leading both up and down.

Zalman was brought down to the well shaft and quickly explored both up and down its length via his Fly spell.  Partway up the shaft, he found the crack through which the Shadow had been spotted drawing water.  Down the shaft, perhaps sixty feet, he found the water table as well as another crack leading into a cavern.  He only briefly peered into the gloomy darkness before returning to the others to report.  Telepathically, he asked Hooty to keep a very sharp eye on the top of the well.

The general consensus was that this was probably an alternate escape route for the Shadow.  They hoped that he had merely fled at the sound of them setting off the pit traps and that he might yet be trapped down in the cavern.  Continuing with their pursuit-until-victory philosophy, they started climbing down.

Bommer led the way, marking another rung rigged with a poison needle.  The others quickly assembled just inside the cave entrance.  The chamber was only ten feet wide and snaked away as it widened.  Nigel urged everyone to stay in place while he scoured the ground for tracks.  In spite of the poor surface, he found several.  Some were definitely booted ones.

As Nigel rounded the first corner, he was rudely met with a wet slap in the face.  He choked and gagged on the slimy glob of poisonous spittle, falling backward and desperately trying to scrape it off.  The others, already poised for a fight, sprang into action.

Feng and Amill, both brandishing their respectively large swords, were the first to round the corner and found a massive spider web covering several hundred square feet of ceiling in the larger chamber.  One spider had a leg span over ten feet across while two smaller ones flanked it.  The smaller spiders launched several more wads of spittle at the attackers.

Amill broke to his right and hacked at one of the smaller spiders with his ferroplasmic falchion.  A leg was chopped clean off and thick yellowish blood oozed out of its side.  Feng, meanwhile, made for the larger spider.  The large spider lunged at the charging half-orc with alarming speed, its mandibles easily piercing the chain shirt he wore and injecting a full dose of strength sapping poison.  Feng’s greatsword immediately felt almost too difficult to wield, but he valiantly swung anyway, scoring a minor blow.

Amblin streaked around the corner, planting a swift kick to the large spider and springing back out of the way.  Bommer decided that closing in on the spiders to sneak attack them was going to be far too risky, so he settled on using his short bow and peppering arrows when there was an opening.

Nigel felt his strength sapped slightly, but he was still able to handle his bow well enough.  Once enough of the stinging poison was clear of his eyes, he drew and fired arrows as quickly as his elvish reflexes allowed.

Zalman, assessing the situation, chose the flashy approach.  He launched a fireball slightly behind the spiders.  The concussive blast simultaneously rocked the cavern and obliterated the remaining web in a brilliant flash.  Two of the spiders were torched in the blaze, though neither fell.

Amill, who was almost single-handedly dealing with one of the smaller spiders, took a bite and felt its poison burn through his veins.  Another couple slashes and a few helpful arrows from behind and the spider finally died.

The concentrated fire on the remaining two spiders quickly eradicated the vermin.  Feng, moments after the fight ended, nearly collapsed under his own weight.  His sword clattered to the floor and Nigel and Amblin had to ease him down.  Amill, likewise, was unable to continue.

“Press on or stay with these two?” Nigel asked.  He was slightly weakened, but felt good enough to continue for a bit.

“Let’s explore a little further,” Zalman said.  “The Shadow may be close, and I’d rather not let him get the drop on us here.” 

They left Feng and Amill propped up in the narrow entrance near the well, both equipped with a loaded crossbow.  Nigel quickly surveyed the two exits from the spiders’ cavern for tracks.  The passage to the right held no tracks, though there was a squeaking and fluttering sound.  With Amblin in tow, he scouted down that passage until he found a massive chamber full of bats.  In the guano on the floor, he found no evidence of recent passage, so they turned back.

The foursome of Nigel, Amblin, Zalman and Bommer explored a series of mostly natural looking caverns that branched off from the entrance at the well.  Many dead-ended and there were a few crevasses that dropped down into water.  Nigel had a difficult time tracking anything in the flat, rocky terrain.

Down one particular dead end, they examined some loose rocks that appeared to be a number of caved-in or filled-in tunnels.  While looking for evidence of the Shadow, everyone became aware of rumbling in the ground.  Recalling a nasty encounter they’d once had with ankhegs attacking them from below, they decided that fleeing was their best option.  Bommer used his Raven’s Cloak to polymorph into a raven, allowing him to keep up with the others.

They continued down another branch, leaving the rumbling sound well behind them.  This new branch again reached a dead end, but there was a foul odor of decay nearby.  A natural chimney shaft, no more than a couple feet wide, disappeared into the darkness above them.  Bommer flew up and found that the shaft twisted and turned a bit.  A raccoon, deceased at least a couple days, lay upon a small ledge.  The chimney continued further up, but Bommer found it difficult to negotiate in his raven form, so he returned to the others and reported his findings.  The group decided to continue exploring elsewhere and return here later if they found no other evidence of the Shadow.

From the largest chamber they’d found, a nexus of sorts, only one passage remained unexplored.  This path twisted and turned, continuing for several hundred yards without any side passages before it finally reached a dead end.  The group had just turned around to begin the hike back when the rumbling could be heard again.

Knowing they were trapped, they prepared for a fight.  Nigel drew his longsword and light mace.  Zalman had his staff in one hand and wand of lightning bolts in the other.  Bommer remained in his raven form in case a quick retreat was called for.

The rumbling grew in intensity until the floor between Nigel and Zalman erupted in a cloud of rock and dust.  An umber hulk emerged and immediately raked its claws across Zalman’s chest.  Nigel laid into the beast with his weapons, scoring a couple hits and drawing its focus away from the wizard.  Zalman shifted position so that he could unleash a lightning bolt without hitting his companions in the narrow passage.

Amblin was about to join the fray when another umber hulk emerged from the side of the cave, hemming both Amblin and Nigel between the two creatures.  The monk shook off the umber hulk’s confusing gaze, but felt the full brunt of its claws.  Amblin was tempted to spring attack the umber hulk and leap past to the other side of it, but he realized that to do so would leave Nigel flanked by the creatures and very vulnerable.  So instead he held his ground and attacked with a flurry of kicks and punches.

Bommer waited just long enough to make sure no other umber hulks were likely to join the fight.  Once reasonably sure, he returned to his ordinary halfling form and snuck up behind the umber hulk that Amblin was engaged with.  He waited for the perfect opening, and then leapt forward and jammed his shortsword into the umber hulk’s back, injuring it badly.  The umber hulk turned and gave Bommer a painful swipe for his effort.

Zalman backed up a few more steps and launched a spread of magic missiles into the umber hulk that Nigel was tangled with.  Nigel, lacking the necessary armor for a sustained melee, was taking a pounding.  Between his sword work and Zalman’s blasts, however, the umber hulk finally fell.  He joined Amblin and Bommer and quickly finished off the second.

Everyone in the exploratory group had been injured, Nigel by far taking the worst of it.  No discussion was necessary for each to know that today’s pursuit of the Shadow was at an end.  They had lost Rurik – friend, healer, and the most heavily armored front-line fighter.  Amill, the psychic warrior, and Feng, their new priestly companion, were both incapacitated.  Nigel was badly injured, Zalman was depleted of his best spells, and both Bommer and Amblin were modestly injured.  To face the Shadow under these conditions would be foolhardy.  And so, with double watches posted, they made camp in the cavern next to the well shaft and tried to rest and heal.



Next session:  Voice from afar and the last passage.


----------



## Rybaer (Nov 2, 2002)

Session #14.4 – Help from afar



Most of the group had difficulty finding sleep.  It was, after all, still early in the morning.  Adrenaline was still wearing off from the non-stop excitement of the last hour – from the fight with the hill giants, through the trap-filled lower levels of the keep, to the battle with the giant spiders and umber hulks.  Their substantial injuries left them exhausted and weak, not sleepy.

Zalman, using his crown’s power to watch for invisible intruders, was briefly startled as a voice whispered in his ear.  

“Zalman?” the voice said.  “You guys okay?”  

It took the wizard just a moment to recognize the voice as Jonas’, the head wizard from the Thunder Guild.  He glanced around and spotted the scrying sensor floating innocuously above him.

“Not really,” Zalman silently replied by way of Jonas’ spell.  “It’s been a bad morning and we still haven’t gotten the Shadow.”  He briefly recounted the events of the morning.

“I’m terribly sorry to hear about Rurik,” Jonas said.  “He was an extraordinary dwarf.  Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Care to try scrying on the Shadow again?” Zalman said.  “It’d be nice to know if he’s still skulking around the keep or down here just around the corner.”

“Sure thing,” Jonas said.  “I’ve even got the necessary spells prepared, just in case you needed it.  Give me a little bit and I’ll get back with you.”

Zalman nodded and watched as the scry sensor winked out.  He quietly explained to the others on watch who he’d been magically speaking with.  As promised, a scry sensor returned about fifteen minutes later and again Zalman heard the voice of Jonas in his ear.

“Well, I found him,” Jonas said, “but he’s in a place I haven’t seen before.”

“Please explain,” Zalman said.

“He’s in a cave of some sort, very natural looking,” he said.  “It’s somewhat irregular shaped and had no obvious exits, though admittedly there were a few areas I couldn’t see.  The room has a large bedroll, some small furnishings, and lots of boxes and sacks.  If I had to guess, this is probably another hideout.  It wasn’t nearly as well stocked as the other place, though.”

“What was he doing?” Zalman asked.

“Ah, there’s the interesting bit,” Jonas said.  “The Shadow was just sitting at a small table, reading a book by candlelight.  He was wearing all his clothing, cloak, boots, and weapons, as if expecting possible trouble.”

“That’s not all that interesting,” Zalman said.  “Though, it does suggest we might have gotten close enough to alert him.”

“Indeed,” Jonas said.  “No, the interesting bit is that there was another person with him.  A lady elf, by the looks of her.”

“That’s odd,” Zalman said.  “We haven’t heard anything about a woman before.  Dark elf or captive?”

“Neither, if I had to make a guess,” the older wizard replied.  “She most certainly wasn’t a drow.  Looked like she was taking a nap on the bedroll.”

“Hmmm…I’m not sure what to make of that.  Anything else of interest with him or the room?”

“About thirty feet or so from the table, back where most of the boxes were stored, I noticed a good-sized metal plate on the floor.  There are a few boxes and other junk sitting on top of it.  Caught my attention because it was sitting out in the middle of that end of the cave.”

“Did the cave he was in resemble this one?” Zalman said.  “You know, rock type and general appearance?”

“Actually,” Jonas said, “I believe it does.  I wasn’t paying that close of attention to it, but I’d say that it’s a decent match.  Any idea of where he might be relative to you?”

“Yeah, possibly,” Zalman said.  “There was a chimney we still haven’t yet explored.  Good chance it might lead up to another section of caves.”

“Well, good luck to you guys,” Jonas said.  “I’m at my limit for scrying today.”

“Okay,” Zalman said.  “Thanks a lot for your help.”  The scrying sensor winked out again.

Throughout the balance of the day, they continued to rest and plan.  Feng, once rested, prayed to Kord for spells – including a number of ones necessary to undo all the poison and mundane damage they’d suffered.  The key to striking at the Shadow would be in preventing him from fleeing.  They concluded that a Silence spell would work best, to prohibit him from activating whatever it was he used to teleport away.  Aside from that, however, they chose not to develop too detailed a plan – particularly in light of the fact that their elaborate ambush plan had completely fallen apart when a group of giants got in the way.

Once everyone was healed and had all their spells prepared, they set off through the caves to the natural chimney.  While the others waited, Bommer soundlessly climbed up the shaft.  Only a short distance further up than the shelf with the dead raccoon, he found that the passage dead-ended at an iron plate several feet across.  He climbed back down and informed the others that they had in all likelihood found the Shadow’s secondary hideout.

Per their plan, Feng cast Silence upon one of Nigel’s arrows.  The two of them would lead the way up the shaft and together would force open the plate and rush in.  As an added bonus, the Silence spell might help cover the noise of them forcing their way into the room.  Nigel would use Star Slayer’s ability to See Invisible and do what he could to get the arrow stuck into the dark elf.  Amblin and Amill would follow next and Bommer and Zalman would bring up the rear.

By natural and magical means, everyone ascended the chimney until they were all crammed just below the steel plate.  With a nod to one another in the magical silence, Feng and Nigel began to push.



Next session:  Finale.


----------



## Tuerny (Nov 2, 2002)

Whoo.
The finale is coming up. 
I can't wait


----------



## Rybaer (Nov 6, 2002)

Session #14.5 – The Last Tangle with Lord Boogey


Feng called upon Kord for a surge of strength and, together with Nigel, tried to force the metal plate up.  The plate was distressingly heavy, and only lifted a few inches.  In the magical silence, the effort was very surreal, yet they held out hope that the Shadow would not be alerted to their presence.  The pair was able to slide the plate to the side a foot and a half, enough for everyone to fit through.

Feng and Nigel pulled themselves up and through, great sword and bow ready as quickly as possible, and moved aside to let the others up.  Nigel scanned the surroundings, making full use of Star Slayer’s ability to See Invisible.  The metal plate they had shoved aside was indeed covered in boxes as well as a largish coat rack which appeared to have toppled over during their initial push.  Probably a warning device, Nigel thought to himself.  Stacked up against the walls around him were a variety of other small chests and sacks, just as Jonas had described it.

A short distance away, where the cave started to widen, was a small table with chairs.  A lit candle and several books sat upon it, but there was no sign of either the Shadow or the other elf.  He could just make out the bedroll, but it too was unoccupied.  Silently, Nigel cursed to himself for it looked like the element of surprise had been lost, likely when the coat rack tipped over.  The furthest end of the cave held some large stone columns and dark recesses, so it was possible the pair was still hiding within the chamber.

Amblin and Amill followed through the trapdoor and took the silent signal from Nigel that the Shadow had not yet been spotted.  Nigel held Star Slayer with the Silenced arrow at the ready while Feng, Amill, and Amblin advanced further into the room.  Bommer and Zalman, meanwhile, climbed up through trapdoor and familiarized themselves with the layout.

Feng and Amill, swords brandished threateningly, quickly moved to the left side of the chamber, expecting any attack to come from around the rock column.  Amblin followed close behind.  Amill was the first to spot the female elf, seemingly floating near the ceiling of the cavern, as she peered out of the dark around the corner of the column.  The psychic warrior charged.

Feng was about to follow, but found himself abruptly cut off when a roiling wall of pearly white material erupted before him.  The wall reached from floor to ceiling and side to side, filling into the irregularities of the rock to completely seal off one half of the cave.  Feng hammered on the wall with his sword and found it to be completely unyielding and unharmed.  Amblin, Nigel, Zalman, Bommer, and Feng all looked at one another – they’d just been cut off and Amill was likely in grave danger now.

Amill closed with the elf.  In the back of his mind he registered her physical beauty, but by the look in her eye he knew that she wouldn’t hesitate to kill him.  In spite of her position levitating up in a high niche, he was still able to reach her with his ferroplasmic falchion.  Inches from connecting with her body, Amill could feel his blade slowing down as if it were being swung through heavy syrup.  

She grinned and gave him a focused look.  White strands of ephemeral material swirled about the psychic warrior, seeking to wrap about him and bind him tight.  Relying on his warrior instincts, he tucked and rolled, and the strands evaporated harmlessly as they closed in on empty space.

Amill bounced back to his feet and was about to take another crack at her when he was rudely interrupted by a rapier blade puncturing his right lung from behind.  The blade’s horribly unnatural coldness froze the tissue around the wound.  When the blade was pulled free Amill turned about only to watch as the dark cloaked figure ran him through again with the rapier as well as the short sword he carried in his other hand.  Amill dropped his own sword, the ferroplasm reverting to a limp formless lump on the cold cave floor.  The Shadow blew Amill a silent kiss as he mercilessly ran him through once more.  Amill was unconscious before he hit the floor.

On the far side of the Wall of Ectoplasm, Zalman tried casting Dispell Magic, but was unable to overcome the energy holding the wall together.  Feng and Bommer carefully inspected the unusual surface.  Feng, contemplating the few spells he had left in his repertoire, hit upon an idea.  Using a small lump of clay they’d scrounged up earlier, he began to mold a model.  The others, recognizing one of Rurik’s old tricks, nodded in silent agreement.

Once the clay was molded to his satisfaction, Feng planted his hand upon the side of the cave right next to the ectoplasmic wall.  He called upon Kord’s grace and the stone parted, creating a tight passage through the stone and around the otherwise impenetrable wall.  Feng quickly moved through with Amblin right behind.

Both spotted the female elf, flying near the ceiling and almost out of sight around the backside of the column.  Feng, seeing Amill’s ravaged body lying in the middle of the floor, advanced very deliberately into the room with his sword leading the way.  Amblin jogged along the ecto wall and positioned himself to go around the column from the other side.  Nigel and the others filed through the narrow passage as quickly as they could.

Just as Feng and Amblin passed the column on their respective sides, another Wall of Ectoplasm erupted across the chamber.  This time, it separated Feng and Amblin from the rest of the group, and used the stone column as a natural separator between the two of them.  

Feng tensed but it did little good.  The Shadow, invisible and nearly silent, slid around from the backside of the column and sneak attacked the half-orc.  His icy rapier and short sword both bit deep in a dizzying combination.  As the blood spilled from his body, Feng valiantly lifted his sword for one single counterattack.  Just as Amill had experienced with the female elf, Feng felt his sword slow down just before making contact.  He drew blood, but it was only the slightest of scratches.  The Shadow scowled at the half-orc, and then ran him through one last time with his rapier.  Feng fell to his knees and watched as first the Shadow disappeared and then the rest of the room.  The faithful of Kord was dead before his head struck the ground.

Amblin became highly alarmed when the second ecto wall appeared behind him.  He was very suspicious that the female elf was dividing them up so that the Shadow could easily conquer them.  Between the swirling white wall behind him and rock on either side, he was corned well and good.  The sound of a struggle, followed moments later by the clattering of metal on stone, told him exactly how well Feng was faring on the other side of the column.

Throwing caution to the wind, he advanced around the stone column and found the female elf flying a short distance above and ahead of him.  She spotted him instantly and called up the twisting white bands of ectoplasm to bind him.  Amblin, however, was far too nimble a customer to succumb to that and he easily leapt clear.  He launched himself nearly twenty feet in the air and used his magical metal boots to plant a kick right in the center of her shocked face.  Unfortunately, it didn’t quite connect all the way.  The monk felt his blow lessened considerably by some manner of barrier and he fell to the floor.

He considered trying a leaping grapple, but never had the chance for the Shadow appeared immediately before him as he attacked from invisibility.  The first blow of his icy rapier bit deep, but the subsequent blows of his attack sequence failed to connect.  Amblin performed a backflip, kicking the Shadow in the head on the way, and again was distressed to feel the force of his blow dissipated before making full contact.  He rolled back into the corner and watched as the dark elf advanced upon him with supernatural speed.

Meanwhile, stuck between two walls of ectoplasm Zalman, Nigel, and Bommer all cursed loudly and repeatedly – all falling on deaf ears thanks to the Silenced arrow that Nigel still had knocked.  Feng and Amblin were both on the other side and time was their worst enemy.  Zalman was forced to fall back on summoning a thoqua to melt a passage under the wall.  Watching its work was painfully slow, but the wizard finally judged the hole large enough and dismissed the elemental.

Bommer dove under the wall, burning his hands and knees on the near-molten rock, and then climbed out and rolled to his left.  Nigel followed immediately and dove right.  Both spotted the female elf flying a short distance ahead.  She was ready for them as soon as they made it through and began manifesting the white ectoplasmic bonds on Bommer.  The halfling deftly avoided their binding grip.  Nigel was about to shoot her, but remembered that he only had one Silenced arrow and that one had to hit the Shadow, so he held his fire and looked about for his nemesis.

The Shadow grinned widely as he used his incredible speed to jab Amblin repeatedly.  The monk, in spite of all his training, was outmatched in a close quarters fight.  He punched, kicked, and even tried to grapple the dark elf.  The barrier protecting the drow, along with his amazing reflexes, prevented Amblin from doing anything more than landing a few glancing blows.  “But I’m too young to die,” Amblin thought to himself as the icy rapier pierced his chest one last time.  He hit the floor unconscious and bleeding to death.

Zalman gritted his teeth and climbed through the molten passage.  He knew that Nigel had gone right, so he went left in hopes of getting outside the range of the Silence spell.  Bommer was right there, cautiously advancing on the female elf while Nigel held his arrow for a shot.

Zalman saw Feng’s body on the floor.  As the Shadow was not in this part of the cave that could only mean that he was in the far corner behind the column.  The wizard sidestepped to get a better view and suddenly spotted the Shadow turning to face him.  Zalman let fly with a Fireball into the back corner of the room, hitting far enough back to get both the Shadow and the female elf, but miss Bommer and Nigel.  He didn’t realize that it was his Fireball that would ultimately finish off his friend Amblin.

“Amazing,” Zalman thought to himself.  The Shadow actually looked like he’d been singed by the spell.  The female elf didn’t look too happy, either, and she let him know it by sending the ectoplasmic bands at him next.  In an unusual display of agility, Zalman avoided being bound up.

The Shadow rounded the corner with blinding speed and was about to attack Bommer when he spotted Nigel.  The close personal hatred between the two was shared only in scowling glares.  Rapier and short sword went to work on Nigel immediately and left the elf bloodied and pissed.

Nigel took a step back and let fly with the Silenced arrow.  The ultimate marksman missed from nearly point blank range.  The arrow (soundlessly) ricocheted off the stone column and bounced to a stop just underneath the flying female.  For the moment, the Shadow was still within the area of Silence however.  Nigel dropped his bow and drew out his backup long sword.

Zalman quickly did the math in his head:  Three and a half of us are down, and the two of them hardly appear scratched.  He didn’t like the results and briefly considered fleeing.  No, he decided, this was it.  Vengeance would be had.  He began to summon a creature.

Bommer was unwilling to close to point blank range with the Shadow unless he was certain the dark elf’s attention wouldn’t turn to him.  He recognized that there was almost no chance he could withstand the full brunt of one of his attack sequences.  Instead, Bommer slid along the wall and tried to position himself for a sneak attack when the Shadow’s attention was diverted.

Ectoplasmic strands tried to bind Nigel mere moments before the Shadow laid into him again.  Nigel was able to slip out of the grasp of the psionic attack and only suffered one hit from the Shadow.  Nigel returned the attack and barely managed to push his blade through the barrier surrounding the dark elf.  

Zalman finished his summoning and a massive dire ape appeared directly behind the Shadow.  It swiped its mighty paws but failed to connect.  It did, however, split the Shadow’s attention.  Zalman unleashed a precisely aimed lightning bolt at the Shadow and watched in dismay as it fizzled away harmlessly.

Bommer saw the ape’s appearance as the opportunity he needed.  He tucked and rolled into the Shadow’s flank and jammed his short sword up under his ribs.  Bommer felt his blade slowed by an invisible barrier, but even still it connected with flesh and bit deep.  The halfling felt elation mixed with fear that he had just brought unwanted attention upon himself.

That attention came a moment later when bands of ectoplasm wrapped around him.  Had he not been so focused on the Shadow, he might have slipped free.  Instead, he found himself trussed up so tight he could barely breathe and he became little more than a spectator.

The Shadow and Nigel continued to trade blades.  Nigel could tell the fight was very quickly going against him.  Something about the Shadow’s movements gave him a glimmer of hope, however.  The Shadow seemed to have slowed down a bit, to have come down to a mortal level.  Nigel was able to turn a couple of the attacks and land another couple of his own.

Zalman had little left to do but to keep pounding away with the Lightning Bolts in hope that one would get through the Shadow’s defenses.  Perhaps Rurik was watching over him because his prayers were answered and one of the bolts hit the dark elf’s side and didn’t dissipate.  The Shadow cried out in silent fury and spared Zalman a hateful glance.

The female elf sent ectoplasmic bands at Zalman and again the wizard was able to slip free.  In spite of her own relatively safe position, she was starting to look concerned.

The dire ape continued to claw away at the Shadow’s back and managed to land a hit.  Nigel took another icy blow from the dark elf before he delivered a hard swing of his own…and felt it connect cleanly.  Elation surged through Nigel as he realized that the Shadow’s defenses were finally down.

Zalman launched another lightning bolt, but watched in disgust as it dissipated harmlessly.  

The Shadow, rather than press his attack and almost surely finish off Nigel, tumbled backward and into the corner...outside the area of Silence.  The female elf flew down to him and wrapped her arms around the battered drow.  With a glare of pure hatred flung in the direction of the survivors, the Shadow uttered a single word and the pair disappeared.



Next:  Epilogue...and prologue?


----------



## Zalman (Nov 7, 2002)

*...I forgot to ask...*

So I was interested in what spells/abilities the shadow and his friend were using.  (buffs, defenses, magical items..)  Can you now let us in on which spells were in effect and what was that wall?  Why did my spells always dissapate.  Maybe you could just post a version of the Shadow's NPC sheet for us.


----------



## Rybaer (Nov 7, 2002)

*Re: ...I forgot to ask...*



			
				Zalman said:
			
		

> *So I was interested in what spells/abilities the shadow and his friend were using.  (buffs, defenses, magical items..)  Can you now let us in on which spells were in effect and what was that wall?  Why did my spells always dissapate.  Maybe you could just post a version of the Shadow's NPC sheet for us. *





Yeah, I suppose that'd be fair now...you guys faced him enough times.  The female elf, for the record, was a psion.  She was primarily using Wall of Ectoplasm to split you up (Zalman did have a chance to Dispell it...but didn't make his caster level check).  The other powers she used were Ectoplasmic Cocoon (repeatedly) and Inertial Barrier (on both of them).  She had also established a Lesser Telepathic Link between the two of them so they could silently communicate strategy.

The Shadow, in addition to the Inertial Barrier, was under Haste from his magic boots for a good bit of the fight.  He had also cast a Shield spell upon himself - one of the few spells he could cast as a first level wizard.  This also ran out before the end of the fight.  Actually, the Inertial Barrier, Shield, and Haste all wore out within a round or two of one another...at which point things started to go downhill fast for him.  He was very tough to hit, but didn't have that many hitpoints once attacks started to get through.

I'll post stat blocks for both of them when I get a chance.


----------



## Tuerny (Nov 7, 2002)

hmmmmmm
Does this mean the campaign is over?


----------



## Rybaer (Nov 8, 2002)

Tuerny said:
			
		

> *hmmmmmm
> Does this mean the campaign is over? *





A question without a simple answer.  The next session posting will resolve the loose ends and explain much more.


----------



## Rybaer (Nov 8, 2002)

Here is the lovely couple.  I think it's mostly accurate...though my scribbled notes were a little messy.



*The Shadow*, Male Dark Elf, Rog5, Ftr2, Rng1, Wiz1:  CR11; HD 5d6+3d10+1d4+9; hp 52; Init +9; Speed 30; AC 22 (23 with dodge) (+5 mithril chain, +5 dex, +2 amulet); Attack +14/+9 (1d6+3+1d6 cold, +2 rapier of frost) or +12/+7/+6 (1d6+3+1d6 cold and 1d6+2, when dual wielding +1 short sword) and +3d6 sneak attack; SQ (see drow) Darkvision 120’, SR 20, favored enemy (human), evasion, uncanny dodge; SV Fort +7, Ref +9, Will +5(+7); AL CE; Str 12, Dex 20, Con 12, Int 15, Wis 14, Cha 16.

Skills and feats:  (Skills never were fully fleshed out…but very heavy on stealth, spot, listen and with a smattering of knowledge and wiz-related); Weapon finesse (rapier), weapon focus (rapier), dodge, track, ambidexterity*, two-weapon fighting*, expertise, improved initiative, lone wolf (+1 to attacks when no ally nearby), scribe scroll.

Spells prepared:  Shield, silent image.

Possessions:  +2 rapier of frost, +1 short sword, ring of invisibility, wand of Dispell Magic (16 charges remaining), mithril chain shirt, +2 amulet of natural armor, boots of speed, bracers of distance (1/day Dimension Door, 1/day Call Weapon).


Just before engaging in combat, the Shadow had these bonuses in place:  +3 Str (potion of Bull’s Strength), +4 Dex (potion of Cat’s Grace), +7 cover bonus from Shield spell (against certain attacks, lasting 1 minute), +4 AC and extra partial action from Haste (boots) for several rounds, lesser telepathic link with Uluna, and DR 10/+5 (up to 90 points of damage – manifested by Uluna).



*Uluna*, female wood elf, Psion (Shaper) 9, CR9:  HD 9d4+18; hp 36; Init +3; Speed 40; AC 18/19 (+4 inertial armor, +3 dex, +1 amulet, dodge); Attack +7 (d4+3, +3 dagger); SV Fort +5, Ref +8, Will +9; AL CN; Str 11, Dex 16, Con 14, Int 16, Wis 17, Cha 14.

Skills and feats:  (again, skills not worked out…maxed concentration, nothing else relevant to the fight); inertial armor, improved reflexes, speed of thought, dodge.

Powers: (43 + 3 point power stone)
0-level – Finger of Fire, Trinket, Far Hand, Lesser Natural Armor, Inkling, Burst
1-level – Grease, Minor Creation, Lesser Mindlink, Lesser Body Adjustment
2-level – Ectoplasmic Cocoon, Aversion, Clairvoyance
3-level – Astral Construct III, Fate Link, Fly
4-level – Wall of Ectoplasm, Inertial Barrier

Possessions: 3-pt power stone, +3 dagger, +1 amulet of natural armor, torque of psionic might.


At the beginning of the fight, Uluna had Lesser Mindlink up as well as Inertial Barrier (DR 10/+5 up to 90 points).


----------



## Zalman (Nov 8, 2002)

Okay, so why was it that my spells rarely had an effect on him?  Where did he get his damage reduction from?


----------



## Tuerny (Nov 8, 2002)

His spell resistance probably stopped your spells.

As for the damage resistance, she might have used inertial barrier on him too.


----------



## Rybaer (Nov 8, 2002)

Zalman said:
			
		

> *Okay, so why was it that my spells rarely had an effect on him?  Where did he get his damage reduction from? *





Tuerny hit it.  Drow have inherent spell resistance of 11+class level.  So, most of the times you encountered him, you had slightly less than a 50% chance of getting a spell to stick.  The damage reduction was from inertial barrier...very handy little psi power.


----------



## Rybaer (Nov 10, 2002)

Aftermath Epilogue 


With the Shadow and his companion gone, the survivors finally had a moment to check on the fallen.  Amblin and Feng were both dead.  Amill, against all odds, was clinging to the last shred of life.  They forced a couple minor curative potions down his throat just to stabilize him enough to be safely moved. 

Nigel and Bommer searched through the chests and boxes in the room and were surprised to actually find a few of Nigel’s stolen possessions – his flaming long sword and magical quiver.  The find was a very hollow victory against the losses they had suffered to retrieve the items.  Zalman stashed away the two spellbooks that had been sitting out upon the small table. 

Feng, who they had known for less than a day, was given a quick and respectful burial in the woods outside Timberline Keep.  Rurik and Amblin, along with their possessions, were rounded up.  Zalman had been studying the mechanics of magical teleportation for weeks now and finally felt he was ready to give it a try.  Knowing that familiarity with the destination improved the chance for success, he teleported everyone to his parent’s shop in New Selmar. 

The folks of New Selmar heralded the heroes’ return and mourned their losses.  Per Rurik’s wishes, the group made no effort to have him resurrected and refused the offer made by the Church of Moradin at Mt. Goldforge.  Most of Rurik’s items, particularly the shield of Moradin and the axe Sleet for their religious significance, were turned over to his uncle and the Church.  A small shrine to Moradin was erected in New Selmar in Rurik’s honor. 

Amblin’s wishes following his death were less well known.  They had a local priest cast Speak with Dead upon him and learned that the monk did indeed wish to return and live out the rest of his life.  No priest in New Selmar possessed that kind of magic, however, and the companions willing to ask the dwarves of Mt. Goldforge.  Two months later, the Lady Shele was passing back through the region and they convinced her to do the job – for a suitable donation to the Church of Ehlonna. 

Sufficiently put off by the dangers of adventuring, most of the group chose to settle down into a more mundane lifestyle.  And so… 

…Twenty years pass… 


Zalman settled down and assumed the mantle of magic instructor.  Erling Task remained the official head of the school in New Selmar, the role he’d assumed at Mistress Sangelais’ death, an arrangement that Zalman was content with.  He frequently visited Shadykin, both to learn and teach at the burgeoning new Ironwood Academy. 

After fifteen years, Erling Task decided that it was time for him to retire from his role as the community’s master wizard…to head south and study more advanced magic at one of the old academies.  Zalman took over the position, though it had little impact upon his day to day life.  Shadykin had passed away, and now Zalman spent most of his time in quiet study.  He entertained a few romantic interests over the years, but his commitment to magic overrode his ability to commit to any woman and he never married. 


Nigel’s remarkable skill with the bow became a precious commodity to the Selmarians.  He trained dozens in precision archery and the neighboring orc tribes soon learned to respect and then fear the Selmarian forces.  Nigel later led a delegation (primarily made up of old adventuring companions) to visit the reclusive elves of Laustriel, where he successfully opened up a limited trade agreement. 

Thanks to Zalman’s ability to cast Teleport, Nigel has been able to develop his relationship with the lovely Countess Lohna Goldenoak Graebel of Vineyard Pass.  While no wedding plans are in the works just yet, everyone on both ends suspects that it is inevitable.  In twenty years of courtship, she still has yet to reveal everything about her past and the tragic loss of her husband.  Elves, though, are known to both mourn and court on a much different time scale than humans. 


Kisty Goodbread, the long time associate of the companions, surprisingly showed up in New Selmar only a couple weeks after the final encounter with the Shadow.  She had taken her leave of the city of Water Break once and for all, hiring on as a guard on Trevor Aberdeen’s first caravan.  Within six months, she married Bommer’s brother Jesper Greenly.  The two of them opened a popular tavern where Rurik’s mug now sits in a place of honor on the fireplace mantle.  Twenty years and four children later (Rurik, Boberil, May, and Annie), Kisty is about to take up a new career… 


Bommer, who had finally lived his dream of adventuring, agreed with most of the others that it was really dangerous business.  So, he retired into a relatively peaceful life of infiltrating orc camps as a scout and spy.  His natural skills, combined with some potent magic items, made him the bane of the orcs for years.  Between his intelligence gathering and Nigel’s archery trained squads, the orcs of the region finally gave up and left the Selmarians alone. 

Bommer was married for a couple years, but an unfortunate incident ended the union.  Bommer, while out on a scouting trip, caught the eye of a dryad.  Bommer’s wife was never able to come to terms with his unwitting tryst with the fey and the marriage ended badly.  Bommer has since enjoyed the quiet bachelor life – scouting, training, and swapping stories over mugs of ale. 


Amblin, unlike the others, found that he was far too restless to settle down in the community.  On top of that, the way his former master Chelis furiously refused to acknowledge Amblin’s existence soon grated on the young monk’s nerves.  He wanted to travel and see the great cities in the south.  Further, he wanted to follow up on hints that the style and philosophy of his training was called the School of the Springing Sphinx.  The master of the Green Snake School told him search in the city of Tet Amir – some 2,000 miles to the southwest on the opposite side of the continent. 

Amill, himself a wanderer, also felt that New Selmar lacked that feeling of home.  He offered to join Amblin on his journey for a while.  Appreciating the safety in numbers, Amblin accepted. 

The unlikely pair traveled far and wide, picking up odd jobs and meeting countless people.  Eventually, they reached Tet Amir and the home of a supposed master of the School of the Springing Sphinx.  Unfortunately, the master was missing.  After months of making inquiries, purchasing divinations and following leads, they learned that the master was a prisoner of the Yuan Ti kingdom of Resh, far in the interior of the Desert of Stars.  Nearly two years of dangerous work later, Amblin and Amill finally rescued the old master and returned to Tet Amir. 

Amblin professed an intense desire to learn more, to fully understand the way of the Springing Sphinx.  The master replied that in order for him to teach Amblin anything, Amblin first had to learn how to teach.  And with that, they were sent away. 

A year later, the pair finally settled in the great city Vin Lidur.  Amill used some of his money to open a weapons shop.  Amblin took in three orphans as foster children and students.  In mimicking Chelis’ teaching methods, Amblin did indeed learn much about how to teach, about himself, and about the philosophy that had been ingrained within him.  He also learned that he harbored a deep-seated resentment toward his old master, though for reasons he didn’t fully understand.  It was something he meant to ask the old master in Tet Amir if he ever made it back there.


The story does not end here, however...


----------



## Amill (Nov 13, 2002)

*Fresh blood*

It's good to see that we all managed to survive although it was a bit anticlimactic for the ending. I'm hopeful the next group that takes up the call of adventure is luckier and more resourcefull....Amill out...say, anybody in the market for arms or armor...we have a special today...


----------



## Aria (Nov 13, 2002)

*The Bard's note*

The Bard’s Note 

     So me and George are heading out of Waterbreak and we both decide it’s best to keep moving cuz those goofs in the Church of the Small are lunatics, small-minded one’s (heh) but lunatics nevertheless. So we pass a man and his child on the road and we chat a bit, with me asking where the next nice town is. The man, Daniel and his son Seltzer, are just heading back to their farms just a little ways off and decide to take a break since it’s still a ways off. I entertain the young lad with some sleight of hand and small time magic show which brings us all some genuine mirth. Youngsters always seem to like my “toothpick men” show (I manipulate toothpicks into a pseudo puppet show with my prestidigitation spell). Anyways, they tell me the Free City of Selmar, used to be New Selmar or some such (city state names, city state games). Anyways, I thank them and they point me in the direction of Selmar and George and me continue on our way. 

     Well, I suppose since you are reading this, maybe some introduction is in order. My name is Aria (my chosen elf name) Kiirson Windsong, as vocalized in the common tongue. George, my companion is a female capuchin monkey, my friend and my familiar. I am a bard by profession (note by Joe: not the standard 3ed bard but one using the alternative bard rules found in Eldritch Might II by Monte Cook). I also have a level of mage that I took on because of Father but that’s another story maybe we’ll get to some other time. Anyway, George and I have been traveling on the road a while and this new town sounded interesting since I had left the port city of Waterbreak just a few days back. It was late summer and I knew it would take about a month to get there, times for me to talk to others on the way and find out about any happenings that might be taking place. Over the next month or so, no serious misadventures occurred although there was the one orc tried to con me and who I ended up taking out man to man, I didn’t even waste any spells in the process (stupid orcs, think all it takes is a great deal of strength and they can just walk over anybody. Well, I can tell you, there is one less orc thinking that way now…) 

     When George and me get into Selmar, apparently some local hubbub is taking place, with some sort of elections taking place between one of the local heroes and some hardcore politico. I had a day or so before the election took place so I figured I’d run and get some votes for the hero, who actually turned out to be a heroine named Kisty something or other. I just colored her with that working class hero bit and convinced a few people she was their “man”. Turned out she won even with me mucking things up, course nobody’ll ever know, I’m not saying anything. Found out where the local bar was where all the celebrating was taking place and went over to see what might turn up. Talking to people on the way seems she was in with a bunch that had opened up some trade routes and helped the city grow a bit. So it seems as maybe I helped the right bunch into political spoils. Course there was the usual winner’s mumbo jumbo about doing the right thing and thanking everyone for their faith and support. One of the hero’s near Kisty was an elf named Nigel who spent the night making patterns in the ceiling with his arrows (he did seem to have a pretty good knack for it). Another was a local wizard by the name of Zalman, who ran the local mage academy, (Although the student I talked to thought he was an arrogant, pretentious bastard; he wouldn’t take me up on my offer to be the go-between to help explore his feelings with the white-haired one, heh). Another old codger I talked to said he was surprised to see a monk by the name of Amblin there. People hereabouts were convinced for lo so many years that he had gone the way of legend into history. The woman he was schmoozing with apparently had suffered some ill will due to her claims of having been with Amblin before giving birth to a child she claimed was his. Of course, people were convinced she was just trying to do some gold digging and salvaging of her reputation. The story I was hearing is that apparently she had been telling the truth all along. Too bad humans spend so much time tearing each other down; elves would never let a situation go on that long ‘specially when magic can get the job done; by Larethian, elves fall all over themselves just to cast a spell even when there’s no purpose to it. There was also this big thug of a warrior that carried a bit of mystery about him; I couldn’t get much on him. His name was Amill and he apparently possessed mental talents that enhanced his combat prowess and stuff but like I said, nobody talked much about him although he was obviously with this group. 

     I started hearing a raucous dwarf in the back complaining about a dwarf named Rurik that had also belonged to this bunch. By the envious tone in his voice, I gathered that apparently Rurik had been a key element in getting trade opened up and rescuing some? Dwarves? from some ruin named Kladish, it didn’t make much sense as there was some talk about Minotaurs that didn’t jibe with what I knew about dwarves and Minotaurs. Apparently Rurik had perished while exploring some cavern or something, (once again I had trouble with the dwarf’s speech as he kept mixing in dwarven words with his speech. (I’ve been working on getting that language down but I still need some more time with it, Didn't help that the dwarf was consuming vast quantities of ale, beer and whatever else showed up in front of him). Anyway, this drunk dwarf(he would probably say not), who went by the name of Uber, kept lambasting Rurik without mercy, “Rurik this, Rurik that, please, that POS bastard, half the clan could’ve done a better job and done it without dying. How does he get made a hero when a faithful son of the clan like me gets no recognition and I’m twice the dwarf Rurik was.” I have to admit he was right, twice the dwarf indeed.  There was also a fellow by the name of Bommer that was with this group, but he was quiet and kept to himself, in a roguish sort of way. 

     Anyways, even with all the carrying on and celebration; apparently there were some other troubles picking up near my present locale. And for me that’s where this story really starts for me…


----------

