# The Stepchildren of Fate (Updated 6/3)



## htetickrt (Feb 8, 2004)

I’ve been lurking here for quite some time, reading the excellent story hours, and I decided to try and give something back. Most of the characters in this story hour began play around eight years ago, back in 2E. I have notes on those adventures that I may someday post if there is interest, but this tale begins just at the conversion to 3E. This (CotSQ) is the first full published adventure I’ve run, and I’ve stuck pretty closely to the plot, though all the encounters are substantially more difficult to accomodate the characters' greater abilities. As it’s my first time posting here, comments are especially welcome, and I’ll try to return the favor. Anyway, here’s hoping you enjoy the story.

Cheers,

htetickrt


----------



## htetickrt (Feb 8, 2004)

Meetings and Manifestations​ 

Andy hugs Jaalask and pets his head. "It's okay, lil buddy." He tries to be soothing.

Jaalask seems unconvinced, but accepts the attention while trying to maintain a safe distance behind Andy and away from the confused naked people.

"No sweat, eh dear chaps?" posits Dobi breathlessly, still full of himself for delivering the naga's mortal blow, and not admitting to himself that it was Danek's charge of cowardice that prompted his recklessness.

Catching his breath and coming off of his high, Dobi finally looks around. His eyes momentarily widen in utter shock, though otherwise his countenance does not let on to his utter discomfited discombobulation from his second abrupt magical translocation in as many days.

After a pregnant instant, Dobi finally collects himself, finds an outcropping that can extend his height, hops atop, doffs his floppy hat with the giant plume that has managed to stay attached to his head, flourishes a dramatic and sweeping bow toward the naked figures, and unflappably begins:

"Sir Dobius Elderberry of Highhedge, Faithful Servant of His August Majesty of Cormyr and his Lady Protector's Foreign Service, pleased to make your acquaintance….

"Now will somebody tell me what the bloody devil is going on, what?"

As Kai blinks off her most immediate confusion, she drops her eyes from Danek's open-mouthed gaze and realizes that she is utterly naked. Taken aback, she raises her arms protectively and casts about for an explanation; not finding any, she is deeply relieved when Dobi ignores her unclothed state in such a gentlemanly manner. His form of address brings out her training in behaving like a lady no matter what her underlying feelings may be, and she recovers enough to lift her chin and shoulders and to incline her head in her most stately acknowledgement. "Kitailla Imana of Evermere, daughter to his Lordship the Baron of Evermere and his lady," she intones formally. "These are Kyree, Rhien, Trella, and Khail. I regret that we are unable to offer any explanation of our presence here, though I assure you we intend no evil. But who are your companions?" she inquires, looking doubtfully again at the others in the cavern.

Danek looks away in complete embarrassment.

After Kai's comments, Trella blurts, "WHAT IN ASMODEUS'S SANCTUM IS GOING ON HERE?" The sturdy female seems quite unperturbed at being naked and starts storming about the chamber in search of a response to her question.

Andy, being somewhat taken with Trella, starts to offer his opinion. "Well, I'm not really sure but--"

Trella grabs him by his shirt, slams him against the wall, and sneers, "If you know something, spill it mister, or else your **** are paste." A wet streak appears down Andy's leg.

Trella has to smile at his reaction. She releases him forthwith, and he collects himself in a corner, where his kobold buddy snickers at the smelly wetness. Much calmer now, Trella turns to her fellow Stepchildren. "If this is the afterlife," she begins, "we really messed up. If not, anyone got a better idea?"

At the mention of the afterlife, the slight man with the shaven head and sad gray eyes that Kai referred to as Rhien looks up from his own thoughts. "The last thing I remember was Gwok-Al trying to kill Trella and then that big conflagration. I was ready to be with Ilmater...but this is not there. The air here smells acrid." Rhien begins concentrating on something, but soon after lowers his shoulders in apparent defeat. "I almost forgot...."

Trella replies, "Oh, yeah. I guess we're not dead then. Time for Plan B."

Cerridwin looks to Kai as the latter makes her statements. The confused bard somewhat stifles a goofy smile as she forces herself to maintain eye contact. She breaks off her gaze as Trella starts screaming at Andy. Her first instinct is to look to Kyree for guidance.

Kyree watches Trella with slight amusement until Trella backs off. After Rhien fails in his apparent attempt to cast a spell, Kyree reaches out to touch his comrade on the shoulder reassuringly. Then, realizing the awkwardness of two naked men touching each other, he withdraws his hand and offers the monk a look of sympathy and concern. Rhien acknowledges his gesture with a slight nod, but otherwise seems lost in thought.

After a few moments, Kyree says to no one in particular, "So...should we start looking for a way out of this place?"Dobi casts a quick, almost imperceptible glance at the misadventures of Trella and Andy, but quickly returns his attention to Kai, a clearly more refined personage and thus more worthy of his attention. "Ah, milady Kitailla, I was lately posted to the Waterdhavian embassy. I met your parents at the 50th birthday celebration of Lady Evermere. I bumped heads with the Baron Imana over smoked mackerel; we had quite a laugh over that one. You should have seen the look on Old Evermere's face when... but that is for another time."’Tis shame your present circumstances leave you without herald to announce your presence. Ah, but I forget myself," says Dobi as he quickly unties and removes his cape in a sweep of green, and offers what little there is of it to the lady."That dour blushing maid over there is Danek, the not so dour one is Cerridwin, the silly fellow up against the wall is Andy," Dobi proceeds to introduce Lenara, Jalaask, Earl the unicorn, and Buttercup."They are an odd lot, but dependable, though I have only joined their company the day before last. We were trapped together in a tower on some alien shore, when having rescued a figure from a crystal shard, we found ourselves unseemly deposited here."After Dobi gets done licking Kai's boots, Trella asks, "Hey, Doughboy, are you their leader?" Not entirely waiting for an answer, she starts looking for a way out of the natural cavern.

Dobi looks down his nose at Trella, a rather difficult feat for one of his height, but a skill perfected from years of practice. The look is designed to say, “You…deign to address…Me?” It is not lost on the irritable Trella.

"Ahem," Dobi ahems, "Trella, was it?" her name dripping with disgust off his tongue. "You may address me as Sir Dobius," before returning his attention to Kai, "You travel with these ... people?"

"Whatever, Sir Doo-bee-us," Trella enunciates, returning sarcasm in kind.

Kai moves quickly to pour on the charm. "My companions," she smiles, "are able adventurers all. Trella here is unused to courtly forms of address because she prefers the way of the wood and the wild, where I assure you her skills are unsurpassed. Khail and Kyree are warriors of dazzling proficiency, while Rhien..." here she pauses for an almost imperceptible moment, "Rhien's unstinting selflessness and loyalty almost belie his talent in unarmed combat. You must forgive our confusion, as we have lately been through a lot." Though her formal address suffers a lapse at the end of her speech as she is distracted by her last memories, she quickly corrects her manner, adding, "Your kindness matches your refinement," while reaching with a smile for the cloak Dobi offers.

At this moment, a choking sound from Danek makes her pause and look with surprise at the barbarian, who is jerking at her throat in a clumsy attempt to remove her own recently-gained cloak, having watched Dobi's exchange with Kai with obvious and growing aggrievement. "On second thought," Kai continues with another smile, "your friend here deserves a chance to demonstrate her own graciousness." She accepts Danek's cloak as kindly as she can, although Danek still won't look her in the eye. Kai refrains from mentioning the obvious, which is that Danek's cloak is much more effective as a piece of clothing for her than Dobi's is.

Trella looks like she's about to pounce on the little fellow for his slight, but when Kai pours on the charm she uncoils, muttering only, "Damn right," under her breath at Kai’s assessment of her skill in the woods.

Roused from his introspection by the actions of the rest of the extended group, Rhien forces a smile. "Yes, please forgive us for our rudeness. As Kai said, we have been through a lot; if all humans experienced that which we have Ilmater's faith would be large indeed. Or perhaps Loviator’s."

Shaking his head, Rhien changes tone. "But I do not mean to sound maudlin or self-pitying. I can only assume that your presence here had something to do with our return to awareness, so it would appear we owe you a debt. As is plain, we have no idea where we are or how to get out. Perhaps you could share your tale with us so that we can see if we might understand what has happened. We have so far heard a piece of it, but I think not all."

After Rhien speaks, Andy returns to the scene and decides to offer Trella his cloak, in a transparent attempt to match Dobi's innate charm and grace. Trella accepts the cloak, sniffs it, and makes it into a crude wrap that covers some, but certainly not all, of her tanned flesh. She thanks Andy, but makes it clear his offer of a hug is out of line.

Andy smiles nevertheless. Bolstered by his success with Trella, the monk approaches Kai and says, "Uh, hey." He waves. "I'm Andy. I'll let Dobi do all the talking about how we got here, but I've got a blanket if anyone wants to cover up." He offers up the blanket, but his eyes keep returning to Kai (and not always her face notably.) Feeling more sociable now that his pants have dried, he adds apparently for Kai's benefit, "You know, I'm sensitive, unlike a lot of guys. I used to run a men's group before I joined the army. I used to be a captain in my village's army, you know. Do you have armies where you come from? Maybe, if we have time after we leave this place, you and I could go for some sushi and coffee? Sushi is raw fish. Do you have sushi and coffee where you come from?"

Kai is amused at first, but as Andy continues his efforts she begins to look stricken. "Um, maybe some of my friends could use your blanket, too," she begins, gesturing at the three naked male Stepchildren, but she gets no farther before Danek starts to bristle. "She doesn't like you," the barbarian interrupts petulantly, "So why don't you just leave her alone?"

In total silence, Andy hands Kai his blanket, hangs his head, and retreats to the rear echelon of the party where he calls his kobold buddy to him for comfort. Jaalask, understanding the situation despite the language barrier, rolls his eyes but dutifully pats Andy on the knees.

Kai looks concerned but decides not to say anything, and hands the blanket to Rhien while trying to stay covered in Danek's cloak. Danek scowls, satisfied with Andy's retreat but not happy about it. Rhien accepts the warm cloth, but passes it off to Khail, whose buff manliness is apparently rendering Lenara speechless. Khail shrugs and wraps himself up, eliciting a groan from the enraptured spellcaster.

Meanwhile, Trella approaches Danek with a hand out. "Trella," she says by way of introduction. "You seem like you know where the bear ****s in the woods. Let's say we try and find a way out of this place, 'k?" The half-elf smiles warmly at Danek, hand still extended.

Danek stares at Trella in astonishment for a moment before suddenly cracking a shy grin. She shakes Trella's hand and then starts helping her examine the walls and whatnot, with an occasional glance in Kai's direction and sometimes in Andy's or Dobi's.

Kai clears her throat delicately. "So," she asks, returning to Rhien's question, "Nobody has any idea where we are or why we're here, then? You don't have to tell us everything you've been up to lately, of course, but it'll help us pass the time here if nothing else."

Some part of Dobi's mind quietly takes in and records for future use the interactions between Kai, Andy, Danek and Trella. That part smiles to itself, and begins working out how this information may be useful in the future.

Otherwise, Dobi looks uncharacteristically detached from his surroundings. Seemingly lost in thought, with eyes fixed on some random point on the ceiling, Dobi mumbles to himself, as if working out lyrics to a song or the incantation of some spell, "...ecks prime ecks invers, ecks prime why... " "...perfect bayesian nash equilibria... "

In response to Kai, Andy urges his kobold buddy forward, even if all he can do is say colorful Common phrases and jabber. Jaalask fights off the push and backs away, not knowing what is going on and having no desire to hang around with weird naked humanoids, whose pale, scale-less flesh offends his kobold sensibilities.

Trella ignores the proceedings and continues searching for a way out with Danek. Kyree joins in, using his elven senses to look for secret doors. This prompts an unusually silent Cerridwin to join in as well.

The four search without success for several minutes, and the conversation dies down to nothing during this time. Taking the opportunity to learn more about her family, Kai approaches Dobi and asks for any news he might have of them or other old friends. Danek sulks a bit when she notices this, but Trella’s attention prevents too much unhappiness.

Dobi is snapped out of his reverie by Kai's approach. His smiling eyes alight on Kai as he lowers his hand from his chin. "Your family is doing quite well, my lady Kai, though my duties in the negotiations with the Waterdhavian central bank have kept me from the usual social soirees of late. Though spending all that time with that Chairman, Lord Bluespun, was quite a hoot. You'd be amazed at how fascinating it is balancing the seignorage across kingdoms required to maintain the current bimetallic standard that the economy of the realms so depends on. The maintenance of the 10-1 gold-silver ratio is such an oh-so delicate process, much more interesting than that border dispute in the Dalelands with the elves of Cormanthor. Ah, but I digress….

Dobi looks askance at Kai, "Ah, I should have seen it of earlier. Of course, Krin's your brother, the family resemblance is truly remarkable. Krin is an officer in the militia. He made captain recently, or perhaps lieutenant; I get all those silly military titles mixed up. I saw him while I was processing the papers to leave the city. Ah, I sure will miss Waterdeep, the banquets, the exotic foods, the crowds, the travelers, though Silverymoon should be as exciting, if we ever get out of here."

As if it suddenly occurs to him to help out, Dobi excuses himself from the conversation to join the search for secret doors, "though I'm not sure how much help I can be. That was the part of my training that I slept through."

Kyree glances at Dobi when the elf hears mention of the exchange rate, but quickly resumes his examining of the walls.

After a little bit of fruitless searching, Dobi turns back to Kai, "Oh, you were asking how we got here. I'd be happy to tell of what transpired over the two days past, though I feel like I had walked into Act 6 of a six act play. Perhaps one of the others can enlighten us; I daresay I am curious to know myself."

No one immediately takes up Dobi’s suggestion, and there is silence overall as half of the assembled group searches, while the other half is lost in thought. Finally, Earl grows tired of the dank cavern and addresses the group.

“I am loath to say anything, given that I am in your debt for helping me to escape from that wretched tower, but there is too much of seeming importance that remains unaddressed here to remain silent. Danek was drawn to this Kitailla by some mystic force, and it would appear that this allowed us to escape. Further, I can infer by your actions that this type of thing has happened before to some of you, though apparently not Dobi. Five of you were waiting here for us, without possession or awareness, and were only freed at the touch of five other of you. There must be a tale here. Will not someone share it?”

Able to think again now that Khail is partially covered by a blanket, Lenara takes up the task. “This will sound strange, no doubt, but this is the way it happened,” she begins. “The five of us,” she indicates herself, Danek, Andy, Cerridwin, and Buttercup, “were all residents of Thistlehome. It’s a small farming town, but on what we’ve come to learn is a different world. Or maybe we’re back; who knows. Anyway, we were all kind of different then.” Danek looks perturbed, and almost moves to stop Lenara, but the apparent interest of Kai in the story stops her and she goes back to searching.

Lenara notes none of this, and continues, “I used to be a dwarf myself.” The beautiful wizard stops and looks at Khail as if worried that he might find her less appealing. When the paladin gives no response, she goes on with her tale. “Then one day this weird colored mist swept into town and changes us all into the people you see know. Though we weren’t all really well acquainted beforehand, we all had this urge to go off to this really scary cave that we had been warned never to go into. In there was this hydra, but instead of getting killed we killed it, and left our world via this gate.

“On the other side was this really smelly dirty place that the really rude locals called ‘Sigil’. We didn’t stay around too long, though, because we all had urges to go in different directions and couldn’t split up. We chose Andy’s way first, and ended up on this really cold ice planet. Andy led us across it, and we fought things that would have kept us locked inside our houses just a day before, but that we now could actually beat. Barely. At the end of our trail was Trella, and when Andy touched her we all vanished, and the five of us appeared back in Sigil.”

Trella looks with raised eyebrows at Andy, whose pride begins to swell at the accomplishment. Not sure how to deal with their apparent connection, the druid turns back to the cavern wall, leaving Andy to his own swellings.

Lenara continues, “We went with Cerridwin’s compulsion next. This took us to another portal and a desert planet. This time we spent a few days there, and there were lots of people to interact with.” She blushes at this last part, remembering some of her ‘interactions.’ “Eventually we found Kyree, and when Cerridwin touched him we all returned to Sigil.”

Kyree notes the uncharacteristically shy bard, wondering perhaps if this apparent connection is the reason for her seeming deference. While the elf ponders this, Lenara moves on with her tale.

“The third compulsion attempted was Buttercup’s, and this one took us to a place more like the woods on our own world. The population was a little bit odd, though, and we had to navigate this swamp mostly without their help until we found a secret location where Rhien was. Buttercup reached him, and we returned again.” Buttercup bares his tusks in a broad smile; Rhien looks confused at first, but softens as he sees the half-orc’s reaction.

Lenara says, “The fourth was mine, and we ended up around a bunch of kobolds and a ghost sphinx.” The sorceress shakes with anger at this last word, and she is joined by the righteous rage of Khail as the paladin shakes his fist at the sky. Trella rolls her eyes.

After calming down, Lenara says, “We tracked the kobold who had Khail to a town with the help of Jaalask there,” she points out Andy’s buddy, “and then I touched Khail and we ended up back in Sigil yet again.” Lenara gazes dreamily at Khail for over a minute, stopping only when the paladin, unused to such affections, coughs awkwardly.

Lenara blushes prettily. “Oh, where was I? Ah, the fifth and last part of the trip was Danek’s compulsion.” Danek growls deep in her throat but doesn’t otherwise respond. “With hers we ended up outside of this weird tower, where we met Dobi.” The halfling doffs his hat once again. “Inside, we had to pass by monsters and traps, and we freed Earl the unicorn along the way. Finally we reached the top and destroyed the astral shard, allowing Danek to touch Kai,” Danek blushes hotly and keeps her face averted from the sorceress. “This time we didn’t end up back in that dirty part of Sigil, however. We ended up here. And that’s it for us,” she finishes with a satisfied nod.

The newly charismatic Khail takes up the tale then. “Our story is quite a bit longer, but I will keep only to the part that might be relevant here. Earlier in our adventuring career we angered an evil priest in his home domain on the plane Acheron.” Several pairs of eyes blaze with barely controlled rage at this mention. Khail remains circumspect. “Later he made a dark pact with a pit fiend to destroy us and bind our souls forever to evil. The pit fiend, being what he was, chose to play with us before our end, and sent us to an odious demiplane where we were hunted like game for thirty days.” It is now Rhien’s turn to shake with anger.

“At the end we prevailed, in part to the risky maneuver of stealing five potent items of power from under the nose of Tiamat’s Avatar itself.” The paladin pauses briefly for effect. “When we returned to Faerun having vanquished all of our foes, we discovered that the gathered Greater Powers did not want us there, though what they feared remains—and I fear will forever remain—a mystery. We thought we had reached the end, but now with your aid we appear to have been given another chance to live.”

The emotional—and smitten—Lenara has tears in her eyes at the end of Khail’s story, and impulsively throws her arms around the burly, half-naked warrior. The paladin pats her awkwardly on the shoulder, not knowing what else to do.

Trella snickers at the display. Kai is about to join her, when something just hits her that Dobi said earlier. Running back to him, she says in an agitated manner, “Wait! Did you say that you attended my mother’s 50th birthday? It couldn’t be the 50th, right?”

Taken aback, Dobi can only muster, “Yes milady, I am quite sure it was the 50th? If I may ask, why does that upset you so?”

Kai staggers back as if struck. “Because…because that means it has been nearly eleven years since we were trapped, eleven years that the Realms have gone on without us. That would make it 1372…we have to find a way back.”

Her last statement has force behind it, and it is all Dobi can do to retain his detached cool. Nonetheless, the halfling manages and responds, “Most assuredly we will, milady. You have been dealt a sore blow, as it is indeed 1372, but we will return with due haste and see about making it right.” Something occurs to Dobi then and he adds, “Indeed, we should return today if possible so as not to miss the festivities. It is Shieldmeet, after all.”

Kai groans, and buries her head in her hands for the moment. Trella snarls loud enough to make the nearby Danek jump back a few paces and says, “If I still had my staff, and if Gwok-Al were still around, I’d bash his head in until it came out his ***!”

Her rant is interrupted, however, as, after the mention of her staff, an eerie brown glow suffuses her hands. Trella’s eyes widen as the glow seems instantly familiar, and the druid becomes aware for the first time since her awakening that there is a potential within her that, while an intrinsic part of her, was not always there. Intuitively connecting this with the staff she earlier possessed, the half-elf concentrates on the image of the staff.

Instantaneously, a strongly glowing oaken staff of clearly magical nature appears in Trella’s hands. Twirling it lightly, the druid smashes it forcefully into the wall to test its mettle. Unharmed by the strike, the staff rebounds from the solid stone, leaving a slight scorch mark from the burst of flames that erupted from its tip upon contact.

Trella looks inward, cataloguing the powers of her staff. While most of the others gathered look on in awe, Earl moves forward toward the druid with a purpose. Reaching her as she finishes bonding with her manifestation, the noble unicorn bows his head, his horn dipping ever so slightly in a show of profound respect.

“I must admit that when these oddly-matched adventurers freed me after a decades-long imprisonment in ice, I did not know where I was to go. My previous companions have no doubt long since vanished, and our grouping was often one of convenience as much as anything else. Yet, all seems clear now that I look up you and this staff, which is clearly a gift from the deepest aspect of nature. I would travel with you and aid in your endeavors, if you would have me as companion, mount, and friend.”

Recognizing the rare nature of the offer, and touched deeply by it, Trella gently raises the unicorn’s head with the palm of her hand. Looking into Earl’s eyes, she says earnestly, “I would be honored to travel with you.” Clearly pleased, Earl nuzzles her arm and takes his place by her side.

Guessing that Trella is not the only one who can perform such feats, and itching to relive the memory of his bow, Kyree attempts the same summoning. With Trella’s template fresh in his mind, the elf has no trouble calling into being an elegantly constructed ash longbow glowing strongly green. With one fluid motion, the archer draws back the string, creating a new arrow ready to fire, and targets a rocky outcropping. Moments later the arrow has scored its hit, bounced away, and vanished into the ether from whence it came.

Remembering the power of her ring, Kai summons the ruby-encrusted platinum band back to her finger with a thought. Realizing finally the full extent of the changes wrought by the chaotic energies released in the party’s last battle, the beautiful sorceress gasps in surprise. This shock is only deepened when a miniature red dragon materializes from nowhere to perch lightly on her shoulder. Several minutes pass while the two communicate telepathically, with the pseudodragon coiling its long tail around Kai’s neck possessively. Eventually Kai breaks into a smile and announces, “Everyone, meet Snicker.” The pseudodragon, as befits its name, snickers at the group in greeting.

The introduction is cut short as Khail brings into being a jeweled longsword glowing with the purest white light. The paladin takes a few experimental swings with it, recalling swiftly its perfect balance. Before he can look much deeper into himself, however, the group is expanded by yet another member. A beautiful white stallion, radiating unmatched purity and seemingly ready to carry his rider to the deepest layers of the Abyss if so desired appears next to the stunned paladin. An extended telepathic discussion renders Khail almost shy in his assessment of the situation: “This is Steve…he’s been sent to help me—us—in our fight against evil. He’s a celestial warhorse.”

Less enthusiastic than his companions due to the earlier choice he made, Rhien pauses lengthily before finally calling into being a matched pair of soft gray gloves and boots. At first the monk’s face falls, as he absorbs the offensive capabilities of the accoutrements. His subsequent discovery hits him like a thunderclap, and an expression of pure joy suffuses his face. Saying simply, “I can still heal, a little at least,” Rhien moves off to a corner, to be alone in prayer for a while.


----------



## htetickrt (Feb 9, 2004)

*Cast of Characters*



On the advice of one of my players, before moving any further into the story, I'd like to offer a brief rundown of who the relevant PCs and NPCs are here. Though I hope that the narrative itself can, over time, convey the important details of the characters' personalities, hopefully this little out of character information can clarify what is admittedly a confusing playing situation.

Cast of Characters (with levels as of this part of the story)

The Stepchildren of Fate: So named because their adventuring careers began more out of happenstance than by deliberate design, and because said careers have often involved their being toyed with by beings far more powerful than they. This group consists of:

PCs:
Traoella (Trella): Tall, wild, aggressive defender of nature, and party leader. Female half-elf druid11/ranger2.

Kyree: Master of the longbow, his love and obsession. Male moon elf ranger13.

Kitailla Imana (Kai): Daughter of a minor noble of Waterdeep, beautiful, cultured, and intelligent. Female human sorcerer13.

Khail of the Maha'di: Formerly strict, laconic mountain warrior, lately personable holy champion of Torm. Male human paladin13.

NPC:

Rhien of Ilmater: Onetime healer of the sick, now tortured defender of the weak. Male human monk13.

Weird group of hangers-on: So named because I couldn't think of anything better (public praise for anyone who can). Just a week ago they were all residents of quiet little farming town, now they're vastly different in form and capability, and tied closely to one Stepchild each. They are listed in the order of their tie.

PCs:

Andy: Town guard and inveterate wannabe player. Male human monk8.

Cerridwin: Dying old man who suddenly became a beautiful young woman and is very confused. Female human bard8.

Danek: Poorly-adjusted teenaged boy who gained power and changed sex. Even more confused. Female half-elf barbarian5/cleric3.

Lenara: Once happy female dwarven smith, now happy female human spellcaster. Not so confused. Female human sorcerer4/wizard4.

Buttercup/Tham: Crotchety middle-aged farmer who turned into a half-orc with a split personality. Loves flowers, and is male despite the name. Male half-orc cleric8.

Those dragged along for the ride:

PCs:

Sir Dobius of Elderberry: Flamboyant Cormyrian diplomat. Cultured teller of tales. Male halfling bard4/rogue4.

Quidlyn of Waukeen: Mercantile Priestess who is always looking for way to turn a profit. Female human cleric13. 

NPCs:

Snicker: Kai's playful pseudodragon familiar.

Steve: Khail's celestial warhorse.

Earl: Trella's unicorn companion, rescued by Dobi and the weird group.

Jaalask: Kobold found by Andy and company who has been tagging along for a while.

Whew, that's all of them. For now, that is. The cast changes over time, generally trending toward fewer people, though with additions as well. I'll try to add updates every so often to the list if it seems to help.


----------



## htetickrt (Feb 10, 2004)

The Contract​

Trella approaches her comrades and calls for a conference. "Everybody squared away with their stuff?" Not really waiting for a response, she adds, "Good." The tall half-elf pats Earl's nose, causing the unicorn to smile at the affectionate gesture, and continues, "So, we've got quite a few people and two horses in close quarters. Unless we want to choke to death on dung fumes, anybody got any brilliant ideas about how to get out of this place?" She turns to Kai, resetting her jet-black hair into its customary long pony tail. "Please tell me you've got one of those kick ass wizard spells that'll teleport us to Denny's or something," she inquires, smirking.

Kai is about to respond, but stops suddenly and looks exceedingly confused. While she stares at her brightly glowing ring for nearly a minute, seemingly seeking answers, Danek’s gaze—resembling nothing so much as a startled deer’s—takes in the way the gesture causes Kai’s delicate nose to crinkle appealingly. Before the newly-minted barbarian can move on to a closer examination of the lantern light echoing in her subject’s emerald eyes, she notes the kobold Jaalask watching her curiously. Angry and embarrassed all at once, Danek stalks off to stare studiously at the walls.

Lost in thought, Kai does not register the action at the periphery. When no answers are revealed by her internal inquiry, she answers haltingly, "I was going to say that I didn't have any memorized, but...that doesn't appear to be the case. I guess...I guess I could teleport us out. The thing is, I don't know where we are, so unless we're on Toril or Arborea or someplace else I know doing so won't get us very far, and could be dangerous."

Apparently growing more comfortable by the second, Kai adds, "On the bright side, we're all great diggers*, and there is always a chance that someone will come to rescue us. Even if no one knows where we are. And it's been eleven years since we vanished." Kai sighs heavily.

Trella nods. She then tries to see what spells she has stored in memory, hoping for some powers to move earth and stone…. Unfortunately, she finds that the long time in stasis has wiped her mind clean of prepared magic.

Kyree stands off to the side, cataloging the powers of his bow. His single-mindedness is not unusual, and he is largely left alone, save for Cerridwin, who watches him intently as she reacts to what he discovers. "Sweet." "Sweet!" "Oh, sweet!" "Hey, what the hell?" He shrugs. "Oh, well, I guess I can deal with that. Hey, sweet!"

Cerridwin moves off and sets up some rocks at various distances from Kyree. When he is finished reviewing his bow, she suggests he take a few practice shots. The moon elf’s blue eyes mirror his answering smile, and he thanks her for her thoughtfulness before taking her up on her suggestion. His smile widens into a full-fledged grin as he feels the bow's power and accuracy. Cerridwin’s eyes twinkle as she beams back at him. An awkward silence follows. Trella rolls her eyes.

Andy tries to get chummy with Kyree. Admiring the archer's bow, and his skill with it, the monk asks, "Uh, hey. You, uh, like shooting stuff? You're, uh, good at shooting stuff." He looks around for some assistance, as Andy is not versed in small talk with those of the same gender.

Trella emits a sound somewhere between a grunt and a snort. She asks Kyree, "Wanna trade weapon secrets? I'll tell you what my staff does."

Kyree doesn’t look up. “I’m kind of busy shooting these rocks. Can we talk later?”

Trella groans. “You are such a dork.”

Khail’s small gray eyes squint at his companion. “What’s a dork?”

“Kyree.”

Rhien scratches the back of his neck. “Isn’t that a little tautological?”

“Wha—?” Trella puts her head in her hands. “You’re a dork too.”

Khail strokes his square chin. “In that case, we’re going to need a better definition,” he says earnestly.

Before Trella can make a snappy comeback, the outside world intrudes. Several feet behind where Buttercup stands, searching for new species of fungus, the wall begins to shake. Muffled words are heard then by the more acutely aware members of the large party, resulting in a flash that opens a hole in the rock wall of the natural cavern. As the group looks on in confusion, two figures step out into the lantern light.

The first is clearly not human, though what race he is from is not immediately apparent. Long, clumped masses that could be hair, tentacles, or something in between sprout from his head and shoot off every which way. His ivory eyes manage somehow to be both eerie and glazed over at the same time; his lurching manner of walk bespeaks either drunkenness or tightly coiled aggression, poised to strike. When he speaks, though, the question is put to rest.

“Dude,” he begins, “I totally told you that there was something here that wasn’t, you know, rock and stuff. You like are so buying the munchies next time.”

His partner in exploration, entering the cavern just steps behind him, shakes his head in disbelief as a wry smile plays across his handsome face. A roguish fellow with a rapier swinging lightly from his hip and a handlebar mustache oiled up to a fine sheen, he seems casually uninterested in his new surroundings, despite the obvious untruth of this. Chuckling slightly, he replies, “How was I supposed to know that this wasn’t just another one of your drug-induced fugues, Rodney? After all, you have smoked enough razorweed to slay a vrock.”

Rodney is about to respond when his eyes adjust to the light and he notices the party’s presence. “Dude, there are like totally other people here. Whoa,” he says.

The man known only as “Dude” notices this as well and is seemingly pleased. “My, my. I certainly did not expect this experience.”

Trella, not thrilled with the path her life is taking lately, snarls at the pair. Through gritted teeth she bites off, “Who…in…the…nine…hells…are…you?”

Rodney looks aggrieved. “Dude, she’s totally harshing on my buzz. Make her stop, man.”

Trella twirls her staff and moves toward Rodney, determined and somewhat eager to get to the bottom of this situation by force. “Dude” notes this with apparent nonchalance as he ignores his drugged-out companion in favor of taking in the others present. He seems unimpressed until his eyes alight on Kai, whereupon his pale green orbs widen into saucers.

“Kai? Is it you?” he inquires in shock.

Kai, taken aback that someone would know her here, given that she doesn’t even know where here is, takes a while to recognize the speaker, but when she does understanding dawns on the sorceress. “Montar?” she asks.

Montar breaks out a broad grin, quickly closing the gap to Kai and taking her hand extravagantly in his. This, of course, causes Danek to growl, but Montar ignores the barbarian. “My dear Kai,” he exclaims, “I haven’t seen you in ages. Since you left the Gilded Hall in the company of that old wizard, in fact, over ten years ago. But look at you! You haven’t aged at all.” His forehead wrinkles. “I thought you were human?”

Before Kai can get out much more than an “I am,” Trella lets go of Rodney’s shirt and storms over to Kai, thundering, “Would someone mind telling me what’s going on here?!”

Kai, embarrassed that Montar still has her hand, backs up slightly and coughs to clear her throat. “I’m sorry, Trella, it’s just…this is awfully unexpected, although I guess everything is lately. This gentleman, as you may have guessed, goes by the name Montar, though I for one doubt it is his real name.”

Montar breaks into the conversation with, “You flatter me, my dear.” He bows from the waist with a flourish.

Trella rolls her eyes. Kai continues, “I met him during my time in Arborea with the Sensates in their Gilded Hall. Like all Sensates, he’s after new experiences.” The sorceress pauses lengthily as a rosy blush makes its slow way up her neck to her cheeks. “Particularly, Montar likes being the first at things.” She falls silent as her face reddens further.

Montar’s eyes shine, but not particularly pleasantly. “I don’t always achieve my ambitions,” he pauses for a moment while challenging the sorceress with his gaze, “but this time at least it appears I have, thanks to my drug-addled compatriot Rodney over there.”

Rodney helpfully adds, “Dude, like don’t mention it. This place is awesome. The air keeps talking to me, and it has more voices than usual.”

Montar sighs exaggeratedly. “Please forgive him. Despite appearances, he has a sixth sense for areas of mystic convergence. I had heard rumors that there were natural caverns underneath the city that no one had ever seen before, so I grabbed Rodney and decided to have a look. We’ve been wandering for several days, following hallucinations as much as intuition, but it looks he actually came through. Amazing.”

His handsome face takes on a suspicious cast after saying this, and Montar asks, “But how did you all get here? There are no openings to the Cage’s surface, and no one had ever found this place before.”

Khail interrupts before Kai can answer. “Did you say the Cage?”

Montar appraises Khail, as if noticing for the first time. “Yes, my burly friend. We are indeed beneath the surface of Sigil. You did not know this, I presume?”

Khail’s look of surprise speaks volumes, and Montar quickly puts the pieces together. “Then this is a place of power. Rodney—”

Montar starts as he realizes that Rodney is, much to his surprise, no longer around. “How?” His suspicion turns to anger and he turns back to regard Kai. “I have the distinct feeling, my dear, that I’ve been peeled.”

Kai plays innocent. “Maybe so, but not by us. I can assure you that we don’t know any more than you do about this. Perhaps less.”

Montar stares at her for a long moment, and the party prepares unconsciously for a battle. The sensate calms down, however, and a tight smile creases his face. “You know, I actually believe you, though I might be a fool for doing so. So, what now?”

Trella pushes past Khail and barks, “We go home.”

Montar taps his finger on his cheek. “You came from that little prime world Toril, right Kai?”

Trella narrows her eyes, but Kai answers in the affirmative. Montar inquires, “Shall I assume that the rest of you come from there as well?”

Dobi steps forward then, deciding now is as good a time as any to enter the conversation. From his perch on a rocky outcropping, he introduces himself with his standard prose, "Sir Dobius Elderberry of Highhedge, Faithful Servant of His August Majesty of Cormyr and his Lady Protector's Foreign Service, pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Montar looks amused, but nods in acknowledgement and responds, “And I am pleased to make yours. Shall I assume this Cormyr is on your prime world?”

Dobi nods and answers, “Of course. Though I have reason to doubt that my companions are from there as well.”

Andy offers, “We’re from this place called Thistlehome, you see. I was in the army there. Have you ever been in the army?”

Cerridwin cuts him off before he can go further. “We want to go with them!” she exclaims, and then looks away in embarrassment.

Montar shakes his head in mild surprise, saying, “So does that mean you all want to go to Toril?” When no negative response is forthcoming, the roguish man says, “Very well. I think I know of someone who knows of a portal there, and I believe he’d be willing to trade a service for that information as well, assuming you’d be okay with providing that service.”

At the suspicious looks of several party members, Montar quickly holds up his hands in a placating gesture. “Nothing awful, I’d imagine. But then, I don’t really know that much about him. Now, if you’ll all follow me….”

The party grudgingly accompanies the rogue as he turns his back to it and begins moving up the passage he and Rodney made with magic and toil. It is a surprisingly easy task, given the circumstances of the dig, and more than one person wonders if perhaps Montar’s assessment of Rodney had some merit.

Regardless, after only two hours the group finds itself in the Lower Ward of Sigil, on a street easily recognizable by the majority of the party. The appearance of multiple human, demihuman, and nonhuman entities in varying stages of undress, from a deep pit in the middle of a busy street merits mild attention from the jaded dwellers of the Cage, but all turn back to whatever else they were doing when a Dabus floats over in its typically inscrutable fashion and begins inspecting the hole. Montar, not desiring a meeting with the Lady of Pain should she seek to punish him for making said hole, quickly ushers the group away.

Five city blocks takes the group to a rundown brick building that houses a seedy-looking friend of Montar’s. Silver and copper changes hands, leaving the party with none of either coin, and serviceable clothing is procured for all who need it. Kai returns Danek’s cloak with a polite word of thanks, causing Danek to blush furiously as she realizes from where the cloak just came. Khail returns Andy’s blanket as well, eliciting a comment from Jaalask that causes both Cerridwin and Lenara, as well as Snicker, to snicker. Jaalask backs away from the monk.

While putting away the blanket, Andy asks what Jaalask says, confusion evident in his voice. It takes a full two minutes for Cerridwin to calm down enough to whisper it in the monk’s ear.

Andy blanches, thinks about removing the blanket, realizes that this would require touching it again, and eventually gives up, trying hard not to think about it. His obvious emotional trouble sends the two women into further paroxysms of laughter.

Having made the group presentable, Montar leads them out of the sooty Lower Ward and into the bustling Market Ward. Traders of every possible race and alignment barter everything from minor trinkets to the very souls of their customers. Maneuvering his way through the throngs effortlessly, Montar enters what appears to be a shop dealing in inexpensive curios.

Entering behind the rogue, the party glances with little interest over the goods arrayed on the counters, though Andy does spend entirely too much time ogling a fertility statue with an astonishingly large bosom. Scowling, Montar drags him by the arm over the rest of the group, which stands addressing a rather portly fellow attired in a robe of deep velvet.

Montar goes to shake his hand with a warm expression on his face, but a scowl from the rotund gentleman puts him off. Montar says, “I had hoped you had put our previous differences behind you, my dear Jeremiah.”

“You got up on a table and sang—off key I might add—a drunken rendition of ‘Jeremiah was a bullfrog’ at my engagement party.”

Montar attempts to placate him by saying, “Now, you know I was merely trying to liven up the place. Those upper-crusty types you insist on inviting to ‘further your station’ are always such a bore.”

Jeremiah seems unmoved. “Your pathetic attempt at carrying a tune not only offended my more auditorily sensitive guests, it also provided a perfect opportunity for a rival of mine to cast a minor magic that convinced my blushing bride-to-be that I did, in fact, resemble a bullfrog. Disgusted, she ran off, crying about the ugliness of the bullfrog. Sadly, I was not able to catch up to her before a pack of slaadi roaming outside took offense and ate her.”

Jeremiah sits down on his plush chair, leans his elbows on the table, and steeples his hands together. “But you know all this. I told you the last time you entered my establishment before I had you removed. Why are you back, Montar? Did you miss the tender mercies of my guards?”

Montar absentmindedly rubs his backside in remembered pain as he responds, “I come bearing a gift and a business opportunity, Jeremiah, as a way of apologizing for my unfortunate inebriation.”

“I’m listening.”

“The gift is one of knowledge. Beneath this city there have been rumors of places of power, long sealed and unknowable.” Montar pauses for dramatic effect.

The plump merchant is unimpressed. “And?”

“I have found one, and I will tell you where it is. If you hurry, you can explore it before the Lady has it shut away again.”

“If you’re lying to me….” Jeremiah leaves the threat hanging in the air.

Montar responds a little too quickly, “Lying? Me? The place is there, my friend. All of these fine people were recently there with me.”

The party nods helpfully, and Jeremiah seems to relax. “Very well,” he says, “you will tell my associates where to explore as soon as we are done here. Now, you mentioned a business opportunity?”

“These individuals seek to return to their home: the prime world of Toril. They would be willing to undertake a task for you if you were to lead them to a portal there.”

Jeremiah addresses the group. “Is that true?”

Kai looks to Khail for guidance, but the paladin merely shrugs, his detection ability blocked by some magic on Jeremiah’s person.  She continues smoothly despite this.  “It is true, but we will not perform any task that is evil or serves evil beings.”

Jeremiah looks amused. “You think me evil then?”

Kai responds respectfully, “Despite our appearance, we have been around the planes quite a bit, good merchant, and have seen evil masquerading as good.”

Trella adds, “Yeah, and we kicked its ***!”

Andy whispers to Jaalask, “She is so HOT!” Trella turns and glares at him.

Dobi steps forward. “I must also inform you, good sir, that I will not agree to any task that contravenes the goals of the crown of Cormyr.”

Jeremiah maintains his slight smirk. “Well then, let me assure you that the task I choose for you will be neither evil nor related to your home world. In fact, I have no task I need accomplishing right now. However, as I am a generous man, I offer you that which you desire now, for the promise of fulfilling a task for me at a later date.”

Jeremiah reaches into a drawer and withdraws a rolled parchment, which he opens onto the desk in front of him. “This is a simple contract, stipulating that I will provide you with a service at the time of signing, in exchange for a service in return at a time of my choosing. I will be happy to add that my task will not further evil, nor involve Toril directly.” Jeremiah withdraws a quill from a vial of ink and proceeds to do exactly as he said he would.

“Now, if you will just sign this, I will show you the portal and give you the portal key. When I have need of you I will activate the magic of the contract, which will teleport you to the nearest portal to Sigil and place a geas upon you to complete the task I assign.”

Jeremiah turns the contract around to face the group and says, “All I need are your signatures, and you can be on your way."

_*This references the six months the Stepchildren spent stuck in a sealed cave. The inherent nature of the cavern kept them alive, but it also prevented the use of teleportation and detection magic, and they were forced to dig their way out of its area of effect. Khail’s old sculpture proficiency actually came in handy, one of the few times a non-weapon proficiency had a role other than as character development._


----------



## htetickrt (Feb 12, 2004)

The Return​

Trella requests solemnly that her contract stipulates that whatever task is assigned to her will in no way contradict her druidic beliefs (including, but not limited to, the burning or harming of trees and plants, forest denizens humanoid and animal, and damage to land or land-based lower organisms). If her task is to kill Andy, she indicates that she will sign twice.

Andy whispers, "Smoking hot!"

Jeremiah nods in the affirmative. "While I don't know exactly what the task will be, I doubt sincerely that it will even involve a wilderness setting. As such, I have no problem adding exactly what you have stated to the contract." The merchant retrieves the contract and adds Trella's wording verbatim.

Kyree looks at Trella oddly. “Have you gotten smarter?”

The druid bristles. “What are you trying to say, bow-boy?”

“Nothing…it’s just that, well, I never thought I’d hear you say ‘stipulate.’”

“What, only full elves can use big words? I don’t recall that you had all sorts of book-learnin’.”

Kyree sighs. “I wasn’t trying to start anything. I was just impressed.”

Trella tries to maintain her scowl, but cannot stop her lips from twitching. “You should be. I rock.

“Shut up, Andy.”

Khail unleashes a big belly laugh, scaring the stuffing out of friends not used to such behavior. “Sorry,” he coughs, and then adds his own codicil that any task must not break his paladin code.

Trella looks incredulous. “What paladin code? What in the Nine Hells are you talking about?”

The burly paladin unconsciously pulls on his ponytail. “I have…different goals than I used to Trella. I’d thank you not to make fun.”

The druid rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t…oh, whatever.” She turns her attention to a rather poorly done engraving of a Blood War battle scene, inexplicably done in mother of pearl.

Jeremiah smiles at Khail. "As is already present in the contract, no evil task will be given. Further, I am prepared to add that any action undertaken will result, to the best of my understanding, in an overall decrease in both evil and chaos as compared to the alternative outcome should you not participate. The task will also leave you enough time to aid those less fortunates that you feel it necessary to help. I will put this all into the contract immediately." The merchant does just as he says.

Dobi sighs wistfully at Wistamoch's departure, though he remains much amused at this huge collection of humanoids (and unicorn) that remain stuffed to the brim in Jeremiah's knickknackerie. Though his perennially unflappable countenance does not betray this, the halfling has been a bit unbalanced since emerging into this strange alien place, feeling very much like he did when he first stepped into Suzail, the hamlet-bred burrow-dweller in King Azoun's court.

Placed at one end of a negotiating table, however, the diplomat feels quite at home. Dobi rubs his hands together in anticipation, hops spryly onto the closest chair so that he might be seen through the crowd, and clears his throat. "Jeremiah, your proposition is quite interesting, and a suitable starting point for discussion," Dobi glances down with a calculating gaze at the contract as it is being amended, "but you must provide certain assurances that said task required by the party of the first part, you, can be completed in a timely manner and without *undue* risk to life and limb to the party of the second part, us.

"I will not submit to any agreement that may have me spending eternity as a footstool in the villa of some outerworld demon, or alternatively require us to go herding a small flock of Tarrasque."

A hint of irritation crosses his face, but it quickly passes as his usual pleasant smile returns. Jeremiah places his hands out, palms up, as he responds, "These are the planes, my dear halfling; there is no guarantee of anything. I cannot indemnify you against the possibility that you could anger someone of great power and end up exactly as you do not desire to be."

At these words, a shudder of remembered anger and pain passes through the Stepchildren of Fate, but they do an admirable job of maintaining their composure.

Jeremiah continues, "However, I can assure you that whatever task I do assign is one which I think you might accomplish and return from reasonably intact, and I will specify this in the contract. I do not know any of you personally, save Montar who is not part of the contract, and have no motive nor desire to see harm befall any of you. Had I a job worthy of exchange for the information I am about to impart, I would simply tell you what it is now and you could judge for yourselves, but as it is I do not, and so you cannot. My meaning here is that the contract itself is a necessity to a circumstance, not part of some evil design."

Kyree looks a bit uncomfortable. He says, "Actually, I don't have a pressing need to return to Toril. Could you help me find a way to Arborea?" Rubbing his right hand, he adds, "I have a promise to keep...to an old friend."

Jeremiah mumbles, “I think George Lucas is going to sue somebody.” More clearly, he responds, "We can talk about a separate deal after this one, if you'd like."

As Cerridwin looks over the contract, a confused look appears on her face. She offers, "I can't remember for sure, but for some reason, I have this feeling that a contract whose consideration is a future service, undetermined at the time of the formation of the contract and not subject to later negotiation, is voidable by the other party, if not void outright for vagueness. I'd have to review some notes on the subject to be sure, though."

Jeremiah sighs. "So you are a scholar of the mystic contract, then? Very well, how is this: If, at the time I ask for the task to be completed, you do not want to complete it because you feel it violates the spirit of the contract, you may pay me instead the sum of 60,000 gold, deliverable within one week of my asking for it. Once the decision to pay instead has been made, you will owe an additional 10,000 gold every week after the first until your debt is paid. The geas will take effect after the first week has passed, and last until you have paid."

Jeremiah writes this up and asks with somewhat less patience, "Anything else?"

Dobi shrugs. "Sounds good to me." The halfling leans over and signs the document.

Trella signs her contract with the addenda. Andy signs his, but more to position himself so he can see her cleavage when she signs her deal.

Khail is satisfied with what he hears and lets it be known that he is willing to sign the contract. Lenara smiles and comments on his nobility before proclaiming her desire to sign as well. She stares longingly at the paladin, her intentions clear in her eyes, before he clears his throat uncomfortably. The two sign in quick succession.

Kai hides a smile and signs. Danek handles the pen awkwardly but manages to print her name, blushing and scowling at the same time.

While the motley crew signs, Dobi hops down from his perch and sidles up to Jeremiah with a glint in his eye, holding forth, "Well, thank you very much, Jeremiah, a pleasure doing business with you. You have quite a store here, that fertility statue reminds me of one gifted to my dear cousin Elbo of Waukeen, a missionary and anthropologist to Maztica in Toril, and traveling companion to Sage Ezra the Bloviant. The statue was created by a Plumaweaver living in the village Umarata near Nexal when he was approached by the village chief's woman…."

As he speaks, Dobi attempts to fascinate Jeremiah with a lurid tale of infidelities, halfling wit, and magical accidents that led to the chief being forever known as Chief Tripod. However, whatever magic Jeremiah is using to prevent scrying of his alignment is apparently also proof against Dobi's inspired attempt. The merchant does seem vaguely amused by the tale, but the bard is experienced enough at his craft to realize that there was never even a hint of a chance that Jeremiah might fall sway to his charmed voice. Kyree notes this attempt with appreciation, but gives no outward sign for fear of tipping the group’s hand.

Rhien, looking far more comfortable then he was before the monetary exit clause was inserted, signs his name in a flowing script. Taking his cue from the monk, Buttercup lumbers up to the paper and signs his name, spending a great deal of time drawing flowers in and around the letters. Jeremiah groans inwardly.

Kyree waits several minutes while the party stares at him in silence, but eventually realizes that he isn’t going to get what he wants through discussion or magic and moves to sign the contract. Cerridwin shrugs and follows his lead, adding her name as well.

With the formalities complete, Jeremiah relaxes a bit. “Excellent,” he proclaims while reaching into a drawer and withdrawing a thin wooden wand. “Please stand still; this will only take a moment.”

At silent command, bluish-gray rays arc from the wand and impact all members of the group. A slight magical tingling is felt briefly, but it passes soon after and no one feels the worse for the experience. Jeremiah nods, satisfied with the deal. “Very good. The portal you seek is in the Lady’s Ward, in the doorway of a private residence at the address shown on this parchment.” The merchant scribbles an address and hands it to Montar. “Montar can take you there, and he’ll give you the parchment when you leave. The portal key is a old pipe.” Jeremiah withdraws a suitable pipe from another drawer and hands this to Trella, since she spoke first. “Make sure to keep the pipe on you, and that the last to enter the portal does so within thirty seconds after the first, or he’ll be stranded.”

Jeremiah puts the contract into yet another drawer, stands up, and says, “Now if you don’t mind, your menagerie is frightening off potential customers. I will contact you when I am ready to complete the contract, but until then, try to keep my investments safe, if you don’t mind.” With that he ushers the party out of his establishment.

Parchment in hand, Montar moves to stand next to Kai, leading her and the rest of the group through the labyrinthine streets of Sigil, idly making small talk all the way. Gradually the bustle of the Market Ward gives way to the elegance of the Lady’s Ward, and soon the group finds itself standing in front a four story town home, unremarkable in the midst of similar dwellings but beautiful nonetheless.

Montar, who has been growing obviously more bored as he has traversed well-worn pathways, hands the parchment to Kai and bows deeply at the waist. “Here we are, my dear,” he says, “and here I must take my leave of you. Hopefully our next meeting is not a decade in the future.” The rogue kisses Kai’s hand—eliciting a growl from Danek—and departs, swiftly vanishing down an alley.

Figuring that there is no time like the present and never caring much for this particular planar metropolis, Trella makes sure that the group is gathered together and steps toward the doorway, which erupts into a deep orange glow at her proximity.

Trella steps through with little hesitation, and the remainder of the group follows close on her heels, leaving the Cage behind.

They re-emerge in the entrance to a small cave that extends far back into the side of a mountain. To the left and right the peak curves around, yielding views of other crags, while behind the group the mountainside descends steeply to a green valley far below. The evening air is cold and clean, if a bit thin at this altitude. Above, birds of prey circle, highlighted against cirrus clouds.

The idyllic scene is broken by Earl’s words as he sniffs the air nervously. “Trella, there’s something in this cave.”

_To be continued..._


----------



## hobz (Feb 12, 2004)

*good stuff*

ah good times. this was over a year or so ago. i was the newcomer. Sir Dobius, my trademark halfling rapscallion diplomat. and later Quidlyn of Waukeen (aka Quid), the mercantile priestess/Maztican missionary/evangelist for the invisible hand who is yet to appear.

i totally feel like a voice over of one of the actors in a DVD commentary track.


----------



## htetickrt (Feb 13, 2004)

benho said:
			
		

> ah good times. this was over a year or so ago. i was the newcomer. Sir Dobius, my trademark halfling rapscallion diplomat. and later Quidlyn of Waukeen (aka Quid), the mercantile priestess/Maztican missionary/evangelist for the invisible hand who is yet to appear.
> 
> i totally feel like a voice over of one of the actors in a DVD commentary track.



Welcome to the boards!  Yeah, when I solicited responses from you guys I didn't quite take into account the whole DVD-like experience.  Still, it could be fun.  Maybe we could work up a whole "Cast and Crew" track.

No fair getting ahead of the story, though.  Now I have to make sure to get enough updates out this weekend to introduce Quid.  Oh, the humanity.


----------



## greywalker (Feb 14, 2004)

_I agree, benho, this is totally like the commentary track on a DVD.  I play Andy (the world's worst monk) and Trella (who just kicks).  Good thing I didn't buy this adventure in the store a few months ago.  I did not even realize we were playing something published until a little while after this sequence.  I miss Dobi, though._


----------



## htetickrt (Feb 14, 2004)

Welcome to the boards, greywalker! Of course, you mean that you miss Dobi because everyone loves the little fella and wants him around all the time, not because anything has happened to him, right? Sigh. At least I've caught up to Quid's introduction with this update. Only a few more of these before the action begins.

A Brief Rest​ 
Kyree mumbles, "I'm getting really tired of caves," as he manifests his bow. The nimble archer sidles up to the cave wall to reduce the area from which he could likely be attacked as he focuses his elven senses into the darkness, looking and listening for any sign of an unfriendly occupant. His caution limits his effectiveness, and he neither sees nor hears anything.

Steve whinnies, catching the same scent as Earl. Trella slides into her familiar role as party leader, urging everyone to stay still and alert for the time being.

To Earl she whispers, "What and where?"

Earl doesn't know what, but he's pretty clear that it is deep inside the cave, and doesn't appear to be moving around much, an opinion shared by Khail’s horse. Snicker, however, smells something familiar, which he shares with Kai.

The sorceress translates for the group: "Dragon."

Trella replies, "Worst...teleport...ever,” pulling her hair away from her scalp.

The doughty druid quickly regroups. “Anyone feel like fighting a dragon right now?” She doesn’t wait for an answer. “I think a safe plan would be to take the Kai shuttle down to the pretty green plain below. Shouldn’t be too difficult to teleport there, I hope. Less experienced go first; I might try and speak with those birds and make nice with them to keep 'em from divebombing us.”

Kai agrees, after trying to find out from Snicker if the dragon is good, bad, big, or small. “I’d prefer to keep pairs of more- and less-experienced people together, just in case something goes wrong.”

Snicker’s analysis complete, the pseudodragon’s telepathic voice is heard by the gathered group for the first time. “It’s either big and far away, or smaller and closer.” He sounds proud of himself.

Rhien offers, "If we are looking for a safe place to rest, I would be willing to climb up or down a ways to see if I could find a less occupied cave."

Kai strokes Snicker's snout and mentally praises him for being so smart while nodding to Rhien. "I'll teleport us if you don't find anything. Be careful." Snicker enjoys the praise and makes a purring sound as Kai pets him.

Danek abruptly volunteers, “I can go with Rhien, or in an opposite direction.” She pauses after speaking, self-conscious at the sound of her own voice. 

Rhien smiles. “That would be welcome, Danek. If you have rope, we can tie ourselves together, in case one of us should fall.” The monk’s gentle tone subverts the barbarian’s instinct to take offense. Khail gives the cave an unsuccessful once-over with his holy sight before following them.

They return twenty minutes later. Rhien gently nudges Danek to make a report.

The barbarian shuffles her feet awkwardly, but says with some pride, "We searched down the mountain some and found a few caves. They were all dark inside, but we might be able to get there, with some rope and muscle."

Khail pats her on the back. “Good show! I found two more myself, above us.”

Danek bristles and scowls at the too-friendly paladin. She retreats to the side of the cave entrance, grumbling something inaudible.

Trella takes in the news. "Since I haven't seen the caves, does any one of them look safer than the others? What I'm really interested in hearing is that you found a shallow unoccupied cave with only one passable open end, the one to the outside, which I could cover with a wall of thorns courtesy of my handy-dandy staff. Well?"

Rhien shrugs and responds apologetically, "Sorry, Trella, but the caves were dark and neither Danek nor I could see in past a dozen feet or so.” Khail nods his concurrence with this assessment.

Dobi snaps out of his personal reverie. Having been off plane for the first time, there was a lot for him to process, and the halfling was deep in thought, perhaps composing a song, while his new companions were scaling the mountain face. Finally snapping to, the rogue surveys the landscape, looking for geographical landmarks that might help him identify where he is on Toril. Seeing only mountains ringing the party, Dobi gets down, places his ear to the cave wall, and attempts to see if he can hear anything. The slow, deep breathing of a very large creature fills his ears, but since this is nothing that he did not already know, the halfling decides not to be outdone by any animal and sniffs at the air. Unfortunately, Dobi's nose knows nothing, and he merely ends up looking a bit silly.

Trella concentrates, willing her form into that of a bat. Taking wing, she flits amongst the caves below, avoiding a tribe of kobolds, a group of roving duergar, and the lair of some hideous misshapen beast. On her fourth try she finds a shallow cave that appears to be completely unoccupied. Quickly returning to the party, the druid resumes her own shape and shares her findings with the rest of the group.

"Excellent, excellent, my dear sweet Trella," says Dobi, uncharacteristically quiet due to the nearby wyrm. He begins extracting the silk rope from his pack. "I think most of us can climb down using rope if we help each other out, though perhaps Earl will require magical aid. I suggest those first and last be able to fly or teleport, as they will be in most peril, potentially caught on either end all alone. Of course I happily volunteer for either of these tasks."

Trella bows with a flourish and an awkward smile, meant to hide her premonition that something terrible is about to happen. She takes the rear while Kai explores her new abilities, handing out the ability to fly to fully half the group, which obviates the need for Dobi’s rope. It takes a while to pry Kyree, who is fighting back an urge to try and kill the dragon and take its stuff, away, but soon the large and varied band is floating gently down. Kai sails further out, just enjoying feeling the wind in her face for a while. Snicker happily joins her, playfully circumnavigating the sorceress in wide arcs.

Trella scoops up Dobi and follows, herding the party into the sole safe cavern. She sets a wall of thorns to guard against entry via an activation of her staff and solicits opinions. Though Dobi smiles at the idea of fighting the dragon, relishing the great tale that such a battle might produce, the notion is not taken seriously by the group. Shared rations and quiet watches ensue, leading to a whispered request for stories as darkness falls.

Trella offers, "Tell him the one about Eduardo just walking along. That one _never_ ceases to amuse."

At the mention of Eduardo's name, Kai's eyes harden, and she turns away to face the nearest stone wall. Buttercup shows his tusks at the rogue's mention, but what the gesture means under these circumstances is difficult to gauge.

Khail answers Dobi's curious look with, "Eduardo was once a comrade of ours whom we took to be a friend. He betrayed us.” Khail is quiet for a long moment. Anger mixes with a wistful sadness in his voice when he finally continues. “We were all strangers before that first quest, snatched from our homes to play the pawn in a game we could not have understood. There was no way for us to know that Eduardo was an assassin, sent to ensure our failure. Still, he did not succeed.” Khail’s small grey eyes are far away. “We have crossed paths several times since then, and our meetings have never been pleasant.”

Seemingly remembering the point of his tale, the paladin forces a smile. “Trella refers to Eduardo's response to being jailed early in our acquaintance."

Kyree anticipates Dobi's next question, and interjects, "He's dead now," with more than a little satisfaction*.

Trella smirks and says, "That had to be the most boring way to tell that story I could imagine." She breaks into a wider smile at this. "It's good to know some things don't change."

Khail shares her broad smile, indicating that some things do. Despite this newfound good-humor, the warrior remains practical at heart, and launches into a brief summary of who he and the rest of the Stepchildren are, and how they came to be here, supplemented by commentary from Kai and Trella, and the occasional "Woo-hoo" from Kyree.

The bard listens attentively throughout the long tale, joined by the rest of his recently found companions. These latter stare raptly at those they rescued, awed by what they have seen. When the story winds down, Dobi gladly returns the favor, leaping to a higher perch and regaling the combined group with the recent history of the realms. Andy's band is stunned by the immensity of it all, while Trella's is more concerned with what they have missed. Kyree curses particularly the drow infestation of Cormanthor, earning him a pat on the back from the druid**.

The final stories of the night are told by Cerridwin in the guise of a series of folksongs from her youth. They are simple things, as Thistlehome does not possess the splendor of a Waterdeep, but they are heartfelt and full of earthy wisdom, and much appreciated by all. Cerridwin blushes at Kyree's attention when she is done, and moves off to be alone, quite confused by what her life has become.

At Trella's orders the fire is put out, and those not already on watch or slumbering join one of the two groups. The wall of thorns vanishes silently before midnight, but no creature troubles the party. When dawn comes, Rhien is gazing at the slow growth of pink on the horizon, though his sad gray eyes seem to be looking much farther away.

Kyree approaches to speak with the monk, but is startled by the sudden appearance of a glowing door in the back of the cave. His bow is manifested and nocked with an arrow in an instant, trained on the figure emerging from the portal, but the archer lowers it slightly when the newcomer's posture is one of curiosity rather than violence. Kyree's sharp eyes take in her appearance, and he is joined moments later by the rest of the group.

A longish shock of unkempt golden hair, tied back into a neat pony tale and held with a jeweled silver hair clip, crowns a pretty but otherwise unremarkable face highlighted by an aristocratic nose and large friendly eyes. Her slender figure is accentuated by her well tailored leather jerkin—which, had it a label, would read "North Face"—and tight leather leggings, the latter tied down at the ankles and tucked into a small pair of sturdy but supple calfskin boots from which two fine daggers jut. Her finely woven very short green cape is held on with an elegant silver brooch, and a matching buckle closes her belt, which holds a matched pair of weapons. On her left a gleaming metal nunchaku made of interlocking metal disks swings slowly at her side, while on the right a wicked-looking jeweled machete that is roughly the same size and shape of a scimitar rests within a leather scabbard. Thin silver bracelets accentuate her tanned bare arms, and around her aquiline neck hangs the gold coin that indicates her allegiance to the goddess of trade, Waukeen.

Dobi, never one to forget a face or the tale it accompanies, approaches the newcomer with surprise. "Quid? Of Amn?"

Though unable to match the halfling's recall, Quid does recognize him, and grants him a smiling, "Good to see you again friend. Might I ask where we are, and by whom you are accompanied?" Behind her smile, Quid girds herself for a quick vanishing act, having no desire to engage in combat with the horde of armed people staring at her in shock.

_* Eduardo was a PC, played by the same person running Buttercup. I let him be an assassin, sent to kill the creature the rest of the party was trying to protect. While it did lead to many memorable moments, I don’t plan on allowing this in the future. It’s just too difficult to be fair to all concerned._
_** During their previous adventure, Kyree—an elf—was oddly friendly toward a drow priestess they met. Trella—a half-elf—was not appreciative of this, and the whole thing degenerated into a really amusing out-of-character discussion about why all elves should hate drow. Kyree, having learned his lesson, is exhibiting this.
_


----------



## greywalker (Feb 16, 2004)

_There are some great Eduardo stories from prior adventures.  Eduardo had a habit of disappearing periodically and, upon returning... we learned it was better not to ask where he had been or what he had been doing.  A personal and group fave is his infamous explanation for how he managed to get himself thrown into prison.  "What?  I was just walking along!"  Classic.  Not sorry to see him die, though, seeing as his sworn goal in life was to kill us.

To follow up an earlier post, I, as a player, miss Dobi because he was fun.  Trella, my character, does not miss him._


----------



## htetickrt (Feb 16, 2004)

greywalker said:
			
		

> _There are some great Eduardo stories from prior adventures. Eduardo had a habit of disappearing periodically and, upon returning... we learned it was better not to ask where he had been or what he had been doing. A personal and group fave is his infamous explanation for how he managed to get himself thrown into prison. "What? I was just walking along!" Classic. Not sorry to see him die, though, seeing as his sworn goal in life was to kill us.
> _



The funniest part of the episode was that half of the players didn't get what was so hilarious, while the other half abruptly burst out laughing and all but fell off their chairs.  Good times....

Work progresses slowly, so another update soon.


----------



## htetickrt (Feb 16, 2004)

The Real World: Cave​ 
Trella whispers to Dobi, “Ask the newbie a question only she would be able to answer.  Or try and bait her with a false statement which the real Quid would know is in error.”  The druid’s eyes are shadowed.  “Given past experiences, verifying identity is important to me.”
While Dobi ponders this for a second, the blond haired newcomer looks back at him quizzically, with a more wary gaze applied to the array of characters around him.  "Umm..." she says quietly, rubbing the coin tied around her neck, "I don't quite remember your name."

At this Dobi straightens up, doffs his chapeau with his well-practiced flourish, and bows deeply, "I am sorry my fair lady, I seem to have put you at a disadvantage, we met at a trade conference in Cormyr, and I believe you know my cousin.  But…let me start again.  I am Sir Dobius of Elderberry, of His Majesty's and Her Regency's…"

"Dobster!" exclaims Quid, as she rushes up and gives Dobi a hug, lifting him briefly off the ground.  Dobi is slightly discomfited by the sudden burst of affection, but makes sure to nod to his companions that Quid is harmless, lest they get the wrong idea about her intentions.  Meanwhile, Quid ruffles Dobi's hair.  "Why, you were just a wee chap when last I saw you, well you still are a wee chap, but you were much younger then."

"Yes well..."

"Your cousin Elbo is doing well.  Though, ever since Chief Tripod started seeking revenge, we have had to keep him inside the mission walls, safely protected by our lady, Waukeen.  Bad for profits this revenge business, though the church nets a tidy profit letting the locals place bets on what Elbo's going to do to the poor Chief next. I think the current odds are 3:1 that the chief will wind up turned into a jungle newt before the next moon."

“I of course believe you, milady, but it is still conceivable that you could have eavesdropped on my telling of the same tale earlier.  Can you offer more substantive proof of your identity?”

Quid purses her lips, trolling her memory for aid.  To her relief, she finds some.  "Aha!  If proof of my identity you want, Elbo told me to tell you something in case I ever happened upon you in my travels." Before Dobi can answer, Quid is upon him again, pulling off his boots and tickling the underside of his feet.  Soon Dobi and Quid are giggling uncontrollably on the dusty cave floor, leaving the others to gape in surprise.

Between fits of laughter, Quid explains, "Elbo always said Dobi was a pretty poor halfling, being so ticklish under his feet…."

Kai tries to look stern rather than eager while she inquires of Quid, "Where did you come here from?  Do you know what this place is?"

Trella listens to Kai's questions and then asks Dobi quietly, "So, you're satisfied she's who she says she is?"

Quid and Dobi pick themselves off the ground, neither answering immediately.  Quid looks around, embarrassed and discomfited.  "Ahh, I'm not sure what came over me, sorry. Uh, so Dobster, who are these people?"

Dobi quickly regains his composure.  "Quid, I'd like to introduce you to Andy, Buttercup, Cerridwin, Danek, Earl, Jaalask, Kai, Khail, Kyree, Rhien, Snicker, Trella—an odd assortment of recent acquaintances that have proved themselves true thus far—and Andy, Buttercup, Cerridwin, Danek, Earl, Jaalask, Kai, Khail, Kyree, Rhien, Snicker, Trella, I'd like you to meet—I am fairly sure of this—Quidlyn of Waukeen, late of Maztica, though how she finds herself here I have no idea."  Lenara and Steve both snort their displeasure over being left out, though the former quickly resumes her enraptured gazing at Khail's broad chest*.

Quid relaxes somewhat.  "Oh, that's simple enough. While exploring some of the uncharted reaches of Maztica, looking for business opportunities for the church, one of the journeymen came across a portal, which was news of considerable excitement as it could lead to a dramatically shortened trade route between Maztica and Amn and reduce transportation costs by a significant margin.  So, being willing and a bit bored by the desk duties I had been assigned to of late, the church sent me.

"Which brings me here, at your service." As she finishes she attempts to find the hem of her skirt, a gesture that fails due to her lack of same.  The Waukeenar shrugs abashedly and continues to execute a well-practiced and formal curtsey despite her decidedly informal apparel.

Trella ignores the formalities, as is her wont.  "Nice to meet you.  I'm Trella, the resident woodsy lore type.  Always good to have another priest around."  Her comments are made with some jest, but there's a darker edge to the second.

"And oh so nice to meet you Trella," replies Quid sweetly.  "I'm sure we'll get along famously."  She unconsciously fingers her machete, muttering "tree-hugger" under her breath.

Andy slaps the dust from his tunic, smoothes back his hair, and performs a grand and formal bow to Quid.  Behind him, Trella makes a noise distinctly like retching.

"Most fair Goldeye of Waukeen, it is a distinct honor and a pleasure to meet a true lady.  Methinks we should retire sometime to listen to a bard while dining on sushi and coffee.  Does that appeal?"  He flashes her a wide grin and seems genuinely friendly.  At least to those who have not seen him in action before.

Quid looks back at Andy with a discerning eye, instantly assessing his apparent net worth.  "Why, that's so very sweet," says Quid, hardly suppressing a genuinely amused giggle, "You just keep right on practicing that line, and I'm sure it’s bound to work on someone."

Andy shrugs, clearly hurt to be shot down so quickly.  "Well, the invitation is an open one.  See you around.  I guess."  Realizing how stupid he sounds, he adds, "Nice place we've got here, huh?"  After this he shuts his mouth at last.

Quid’s gaze softens in response to the monk’s verbal flailing.  "This place of yours is very nice," she says kindly, taking Andy's hand in her own, and looking straight into his eyes. "I'm sure we can find some desperate lass of the appropriate station for you."

Not sure how to take this, Andy backs off, despite now harboring the notion that Quid secretly wants him in a "dirty" way.

Kai’s suspicion diminishes a little, but she doesn't relax her stance.  "Why would they send you all alone to explore an unknown portal?  You nearly walked into a dragon's lair."  Quid, however, is lost in thought, perhaps calculating the potential pecuniary benefit obtainable by one who sets up a system for matching those like Andy with appropriate mates.  She doesn’t immediately answer.

Danek, finally overcoming her discomfiture at the continued occurrence of weird events, and at the appearance of yet another attractive female who seems to like Dobi, uses the opportunity to sidle over to the only male with whom she's yet established any kind of rapport.  "What's a Goldeye?" she asks Rhien in a low voice.

Rhien smiles genuinely.  "A Goldeye serves Waukeen, a Power of trade, wealth, and the like."

Roused by the question from his own musings, the monk greets Quid.  “I am pleased to meet you, Waukeenar, but I am afraid it would be difficult to be at our service, as we have little definite plans at the moment.  Do you by any chance have an answer to Kai's questions?  I would be greatly interested to know if the portal you took placed you in an expected place or an unexpected one.  If the latter, do you know where you are?"

Quid starts.  "Ah, excuse me.”  She recovers swiftly.  “And well met to you as well, Rhien, is it?  It was indeed an unexpected place and an unknown portal. I was sent alone because the Church of Waukeen is horribly understaffed in Maztica as it is; so many heathens to be shown the light, so much profit to be made.  I, unfortunately, have been in Waukeen's service long enough to be relegated to mostly desk work, which is why when one of our emissaries returned with news of an uncharted portal, I jumped at the chance to figure out where it led, insisting that no one else in the organization could be spared."

"Is there a dragon nearby?" says Quid. "Hmm," she calculates. "That will have to be dealt with if we are ever to establish this portal as a viable route for trade. Any idea what kind of dragon?  And actually, I was hoping you could tell me where we are."

Trust amongst those assembled is not easily earned, and so a tense silence follows.  Luckily for Kyree, who was fast growing bored with the proceedings, the stalemate is broken by the sudden appearance through the portal of a tribe of loudly arguing orcs.  The odiferous humanoids, nearly a score strong, strain the carrying capacity of the cave.

Though the meeting of orc and adventurer is a surprise to both sides, it takes but moments for weapons to be drawn and battle stances taken.  Showing admirable restraint, Trella asks Kai before charging, "What were they saying?"

The only one not to ready an offensive, Kai looks confused.  "They were arguing about the age of the dragon above us, and wondering if they had enough firepower to keep injury to themselves to a minimum."  Trella's answering look of incomprehension nicely sums up most of the group's understanding of the situation.

Dobi and Quid, being more recent residents of Faerun, do not share this confusion, though their reactions are markedly different.  Quid's eyes narrow and her fists clench at her side.  She mutters something angrily about stolen goods and the need for respect of private property, but takes no other overt action.

In contrast, Dobi relaxes.  "I forgot you haven't been around for a while,” he whispers.  “These aren't evil orcs, though they're not precisely good either.  That," Dobi indicates the heraldic device of a black morning star over a red-tinted mountain range, "signifies their allegiance to the Chaos B*tch.  They're only really a danger to us if they believe we're evil.   Of course, they're not always so bright, so this could end up in battle yet."

Long, nimble fingers toying with fletching indicate Kyree's opinion of the newcomers.  Khail, putting together the facts by virtue of his personal animosity**, storms off to the front of the cave.

The lead orc, arrayed in well-made plate mail and hefting a gleaming shield and jet-black Morningstar in either hand, looks the party over with a practiced eye.  He addresses the group haltingly in Common, "Why you in our caves?  You evil?  Work with drow?"

_*Khail and Lenara’s player is often absent from our discussions, leaving his characters open for our—particularly my—amusement.  This is one such instance._

_**The Stepchildren met said Chaos B*tch a long time ago.  Khail in particular did not get along with her.  Unfortunately for him, since the time he met her (and attacked her), she’s become a lesser Power in my modified Realmsian pantheon, so he’s unlikely to get another chance.
_


----------



## htetickrt (Feb 17, 2004)

A Very Unusual Orc​

Trella whispers to Kai, "Uh, if you don't want this to end with a brawl, I suggest you do all the talking. Try to assure them that we didn't know this was their cave, blah-blah-blah." Kai glances at her; Trella smiles and taps her staff in her palm softly in response. Kyree stands quietly ready nearby, resisting the urge simply to kill all the orcs.
Kai sighs and steps forward. "We're not evil," she says in Orcish. "We didn't know these caves belong to anyone, and we didn't mean to trespass."

The lead orc replies in Common, "Caves not ours. Mountains belong to no one; here for all." An orc in the back row rolls his eyes. "You not trespass. We just surprised." The leader bares his tusks. Buttercup does the same.

Kai smiles, amused. "If you have visited these caves often, is it your dragon up there?"

The leader responds, "Not our dragon. Lady funny. We kill dragon, take stuff. Get strong, maybe get first crack at best stuff back home." The orc waves his hands vaguely westward. Looking suspicious again, he asks, "You no answer question. You work with drow?"

Kai shakes her head, her brow furrowed. "Are there drow around here?"

The porcine humanoid replies, "Many drow. Boil up from Underdark like roaches. Stomp them but still more come, raid towns. We come to kill drow, get blamed for raids. Make us angry. All stupid drow stuff turns to dust in light anyway. What good is that? Munchkins make fun of me for bringing black plate that melted. Seem good when on drow fighter. Didn't save him. Hah!" The orc laughs loudly, slapping his knee. Several orcs in the back roll their eyes, but most do snort politely.

Growing more serious, the orc says, "You seem smart, but you have weird group in small cave. You no kill dragon, so you not here for that. Me think you not know where you are." After a long pause to think, the orc concludes, "You look like men think pretty. They believe you. We take you to people if you promise to tell them that we no have raid, no kill men who not bad. Deal?"

Kyree smiles and relaxes a bit from his ready position, appreciating the goals and aims of these—to his mind—unusually wise orcs. He remains silent, open to the possibility of helping the orcs in their appeal to the others but really wanting them to go fight the dragon. He is surprised to realize that he doesn’t really hope that they lose, either. 

Khail speaks up. "Do you know what kind of dragon it is? I would never suffer an attack of a noble creature."

Lenara sighs. Khail glances back somewhat uncomfortably.

The lead orc's eyes widen in what appears to be a mixture of surprise and fear. He stammers, "Red dragon! It red dragon up mountain. We never attack good dragon! Never!" Calming down slightly, the orc adds as if by rote, "Metal dragons good. We protect them if need it. Chromatic dragons bad. We kill them, take their stuff. Gem dragons middle. Wait to see with them, but no attacking first." The leader looks proud of himself. More orcs in the back roll their eyes, but none seem fit to add their thoughts.

Trella stands alongside Khail and Kai to make her allegiance known. She says, "You don't seem to be the types to make raids like common brigands, and drow are dirty like that, so I think we would be willing to speak on your behalf assuming you can provide us proof beyond your word that drow are the true raiders." To prevent a misunderstanding of her comment, she quickly adds, "I just mean it would be helpful to have rock solid proof when we confront the townspeople. Folks under attack tend to be suspicious of large groups of strangers showing up to speak up on the behalf of orcs. Villagers can be stupid like that." Tapping her chin for a moment, she adds, "But, didn't you say that you work for someone? Why don't you have that person speak for you? They would certainly know you better than we do."

At Trella's initial suggestion, the lead orc waves his arm at one in the middle row, who starts rummaging around in a big sack. This orc produces a severed drow head, which he hands to the leader by the hair. When Trella finishes, the leader bristles at her mention of working for someone. "We own orcs. No work for no one. Follow teachings of Munchkin Queen. She teach us to use stuff we take when kill things. Other orcs dumb, put stuff in big pile for men to take later. Stupid orcs. We smart, use stuff ourselves." Several more orcs continue their practice of eye rolling. The leader shakes the severed head at Trella emphatically, splattering slight bits of gore around him. "But we not follow around others who kill good people! We kill bad people, follow who help us get strong. No take scraps from bad men who tell orcs what to do." Calming down, the orc looks almost sheepish with the drow head. "You think this good for proof? We cut off drow who try to take stuff from village. Drow stuff all melt, but not drow head. Or body, but we eat that. Stringy."

Trella replies, "Lovely, and thanks for sharing your life story, too." To her friends, she says, "Anybody have a good reason not to go and speak on behalf of these shockingly foresighted and good orcs? If not, then I guess we should decide what to do about the dragon. I'm up for some cave cleaning first."

Andy pipes up from the back. "You're trusting a bunch of orcs? Are you dumb or naive?"

Furious, Trella storms back to Andy, shoves him to the floor, presses her staff to his throat and says menacingly, "I've killed for less than what you just said. Remember that."

Andy is silent after his release.

Back to the group, and with a wink for anyone who was surprised by her words or deeds, she says, "So anybody got something to say?"

Kyree says, "Well, if they think they can defeat the dragon on their own, I say we let them try. If they succeed, I'd be happy for us to go speak on their behalf, using their single-handed defeat of an evil dragon as evidence. If they fail, then their mission of killing the dragon," he pauses for a second, as if considering saying something further, but simply concludes with, "would fall to us."

Rhien, who has been looking decidedly uncomfortable at the whole "kill them and take their stuff" discussion, comments, "If their 'quest' were to fail, who then would take us somewhere recognizable? I would vote to aid them on their noble task first, providing any aid we so choose to them later. But I will abide by the will of the council. Er, party."

Trella says, "Good point, Rhien. Look, even if members of the group do not wish to aid in the dragon fight, I am willing to accompany them, alone even, because evil chromatic dragons are a disease and I'm the cure. Anyway, I don't think we need to have an all-or-none vote on this, do we? We barely know half the people here, and I don't think I'm comfortable putting them on the spot. Anybody like-minded can follow, but I'm going to help the orcs kill the dragon." After a pause, she adds, "Boy, there's a sentence I never thought I'd hear myself say...."

Kyree says, "Well, I guess now's as good a time as any to see what this thing can do," as he manifests his bow. 

Cerridwin checks her equipment and moves behind Kyree, clearly ready to follow him.

Kai sighs again. "Isn't anybody else here just tired?" she asks plaintively. "I for one could do with a little less fire and danger and excitement right now and am looking forward to a bath and a real bed. Doesn't anybody else want to go home?"

Danek looks unhappy and eyes the rest of the group.

Rhien slowly rubs his shaved head, looking far older than his twenty-four years. "I too would love to go home, such as it is. While I understand the desire to rid the world of an evil beast, my point remains. Even with our help—which they might not want, since it will diminish their haul of 'stuff' should we win—we might lose. We have no idea of their capabilities, and we are not at our strongest. Perhaps we should take the cautious route and find a way back before tackling the dragon, after acquiring more potent defensive capabilities."

Trella places a reassuring hand on Kai's shoulder. "I've never really had a home, except the grove my mentor tended what seems like ages ago, but I understand you are weary. I guess my way of dealing with it is, well, to kick some flying lizard tail. Different strokes, right?" She smiles and shrugs, moving to face Rhien. Her face clouds. "I don't know that these orcs are willing to wait."

Trella turns to the orc leader. "You, uh, did you say your name? I have a short attention span. Anyway, I assume you guys came prepared to fight a red meanie, right? So far, looks like there are three of us willing to fight, but more might join if you have some spare protection scrolls or similar magic. Whatever we borrow would be taken out of our share of the haul, and speaking for myself only I have few material needs and will not stake claim to anything in the dragon's hoard except stuff that was meant for use exclusively by druid or ranger kind or things with uses against such people or stuff to destroy forests, trees, and stuff I like. I'm high maintenance sometimes, but you'll just have to deal. Okay?"

Kyree speaks up. "I'm happy to be fair and reasonable in the distribution of treasure, but given Trella's comments, I feel that it's appropriate to note that I would be...uncomfortable with giving up claims to any part of the hoard without seeing it first. I should also point out that Trella and I can't speak for our new companions here."

The orcs begin to look suspicious during Trella's speech, growing hostile while Kyree talks. The lead orc responds angrily as the elf falls silent, "You say you good, so we offer to help. Now you say you want take kill and stuff from us? This good? We no want help from you. We learn take care of selves. We scout big dragon, do leg work. Have plan, bring protection for us. We want kill, want stuff. No want share with weird strangers who want our protection. You try kill dragon, we no stop you. But we no help you, and we no bring you anywhere. No show you how use portals in mountains."

His piggish eyes squint at the group. "Tired of talking. You decide now. You go try kill dragon now, we leave, come back, take your stuff if you lose. You come with us, tell men that we no attack them, we show you how use portals. You come take our stuff later if we lose and you still want fight. That it."

Trella replies to the orcs through narrowed eyes. "Your band seems quite capable without any unwanted help. My offer to speak on your behalf to the villagers stands. Best of luck to you." Her tone carries disgust and signifies an end of her participation in the discussion.

Turning her back to the orcs, the druid whispers to Kyree, "In future negotiations, I'd suggest fewer of us speak directly with the other parties involved, particularly when the other parties are so unusual." With that she makes a motion to confer with the rest of the party, Kai and Rhien in particular, about resting for a bit.

Kyree replies earnestly, "That was a negotiation? I was just volunteering to help against the dragon, and being honest with my expectations." He shrugs. "Oh, well. I guess we're back to my original suggestion: letting them try and seeing what happens."

Rhien says dryly, "I get the impression that the orcs' motivation is not entirely noble. Had we offered to help without recompense," Rhien pauses meaningfully here, "then I believe they would have accepted. Regardless, I am not unhappy about giving the dragon a miss. Perhaps we should perform the duty that Trella offered them first, however, in case their skill doesn't match their swagger. I for one would like to know where I am."

Apparently patience is not an orcish trait without the whip to enforce it, and the orcs begin to grumble. Their leader, not quite as foolish as he appears, recognizes this and moves to act. Addressing the party, he says, "Okay, seem you want wait for us come back. That okay. We go fight now, kill dragon, get stuff. We come back, take you through portal. You tell men we nice orcs, no kill them. Tell about dragon we kill, drow too. Then we tell about portals. That deal."

On their leader's signal, the orcs file back into the portal, which apparently has more than one destination.

Trella shrugs, "Sounded like negotiations to me, but, what do I know, I'm a druid, not a diplomat." With the orcs gone, she relaxes. "We should post a watch near the portal, but they won't be back anytime soon."

Keeping her voice lowered so as not to attract suspicion, Trella asks her fellow Stepchildren, "What about these new arrivals? They seem nice enough and all, but given the kinds of things we have hunting us, I think we should see to their safety quickly. What do you think?"

Kai looks thoughtfully over at Danek, who looks away. In the same low voice, she replies, "With luck, we're in between huntings right now. If that's the case, it should be safer for them to stay with us than not. We can try to send them away if things start getting ugly. I could teleport them."

Rhien says, "If not for this odd connection they seem to have with us, I would send them somewhere safe immediately. As it is, I would imagine that their changes have made home a tenuous concept, even if we could find their world, and it would appear that most of them do not want to leave us, so I don't think we have much choice. I would vote to give them the least dangerous jobs, regardless."

Danek makes out a few of the words, clenches her fists, and mutters, "You can't tell us what to do. We're going with you anyway."

Kai raises her eyebrows and gives a half smile. Trella snorts, while Rhien remains expressionless.

Dobi sniffs at the insinuation that, he, Sir Dobius of Highhedge, of all people needs protection. "I can take care of myself, thank you very much. Though I should like to visit the nearest city sometime soon and check in with the local Cormyrian embassy. Duty and all that. But, you chaps seem skilled at finding good fun trouble. I think I'll hang my hat with your lot for a while at least," he concludes, merrily inviting himself to join the group whether welcomed or not.

Dobi’s cheerful voice rouses Quid from her reverie. “Where did the orcs go? I was going to make an offer,” she exclaims.

Trella raises an eyebrow. “They’re gone, off to fight the dragon.”

"Who cares about that silly dragon's hoard anyway," Quid opines to nobody in particular. "The real profits are to be made from the potential trade routes that can be opened up once the caves are cleared and a deal can be struck with those wretched orcs."

“Whatever.” Trella looks away.

Quid pauses for a second, her hand absentmindedly brushing aside a stray wisp of hair. "So long as you're just going to sit around here and await their return, I might as well go and see if they could use any help, and perhaps collect a favor. No sense in having them needlessly die. That would be a waste—and a dead weight loss—even if they are dirty smelly orcs. Anyone else interested? I have a few protection and teleport spells if it comes to that. Assuming we can catch up to them anyway." Without the activation procedure, the Waukeenar merely stumbles in the dark near where the orcs first arrived.

Quid is jostled aside by the crush of gray-skinned humanoids unexpectedly returning. Several of their number are singed or scratched, but by and large the damage appears to be minimal, given what they were intending to do. Their expressions, rather than jubilant, tend more towards anger and anxiety, with occasional flashes of fear.

Their leader snaps out of his contemplation with an effort. "We done. Take you away now. Come with us."

Trella's curiosity does not allow it to end here, and she demands, "What happened? You were barely gone at all."

The orc leader angrily peels off a layer of burnt flesh on his arm while answering, "Dragon small, like horse. Young. No stuff take. Either too dumb know we here, or spy. Spy bad."

Looking up with a surprising shrewdness in his porcine eyes, the orc ends with, "Not your problem. We take you men. You tell men we no raid them, we tell you how use portals. That deal."

The druid sighs and nods her assent. At their leader's signal, orcs shove each other out of the way, clearing a path for the party to enter the portal. With some trepidation, the group follows the slayer of dragons through the now-active portal. The world lurches.


----------



## htetickrt (Feb 19, 2004)

*A note on Quid and the orcs*

Just in case following a story with twelve characters and a bunch of odd orcs is as confusing to follow as it was to run, I offer this small bit of additional info.

benho created Dobi and joined the lower-level party's bizarre adventures near their conclusion.  When I decided to merge that party with the Stepchildren, which were five levels higher, I gave him the option of creating a new character of greater experience.  Quid is the result of this.  She falls under the "dragged along for the ride" category above, and is a female human cleric13.  Actually she started off as a ranger1/cleric12, but I converted partially to 3.5E in the middle of the campaign and let him remove her ranger level.

The weird orcs have a much longer history, with the first of their number dating back to most of our first foray into 2E (we had run one campaign in 1E before that).  Greywalker was running us through the old "Terrible Trouble in Tragiadore" adventure, and during it my character decided to spare one of the orcs for no good reason.  His name was Droola and he was fairly typical of 2E orckind, being smelly and stupid and all that, but we took a liking to him, and he became a regular.

Eventually he got his own following of orcs and orogs, all of whom talked like he did.  Among other things, over the years they've helped control Daggerdale, where this campaign takes place.  They now have a castle in the nearby mountains.  They're mostly straight chaotic in ethos, valuing strength above all else, but they also have a strong sense of loyalty and are fundamentally pragmatic.


----------



## htetickrt (Feb 20, 2004)

A Quest Offered​ 
Vision blurry from the transport resolves into a larger-than-usual hamlet roughly a half-mile away, ringed by solid, if damaged, stone walls.  A glance reveals only a smattering of farms near the town, due to its proximity to the mountains on three sides, likely indicating a reliance on mining by its residents.  The orc captain points out the town with stubby fingers.  "There Dagger Falls.  Many people, strong.  Dig in rock like dwarves; make stuff too.  We sell gems we find for stuff to fight Zhents in North.  That before men think we raid.  Now no more sell, can't get new stuff.  No one else like us.  We go in, you tell them we no raid.  We show drow head.  Then we buy stuff again."
Trella nods, lost in thought.  Lenara, her dwarven nature awakened, gasps at the mention of a forge and briefly breaks into a run toward the town before remembering that this might confuse Khail.  The beautiful wizard slows her gait slightly, but has difficulty reining in her excitement.

Quid moves to the fore, her mercantile nature overcoming any distaste of the orcs.  "I was not aware that the citizens of Daggerdale had managed to recover any measure of prosperity since reclaiming their lands from the Zhents.  Is Randall Morn still in command?"

The orc leader puffs out his chest, proudly answering, "He in charge, but we help lots.  With no orcs, Zhents come down, crush little town.  We grow fast in mountains, make Zhents split attacks.  They no win.   Years ago I one of orcs who run whole Dale, but we no hold it without Munchkin Queen.  Now we work with men, make good dale."  His face darkening, the leader adds, "That why important we make friends again.  Not all orcs so happy with friends.  If no useful, some want raid again.  Take stuff, smash men.  Not follow plan then, orcs cast out.  Bad, like old days.  Some orcs stupid, not see this."

Quid nods sagely before changing the subject.  "How much of an area can those portals take you to?"

No dummy despite his speech and appearance, the orc leader answers, "You find out when give us what we want."  He abruptly turns away after this, addressing those in his command in the whispered tongue of orcs.

The rest of the trip passes swiftly, and soon the party finds itself in front of a sturdy wooden gate, oddly closed at present despite the early hour.  Once the group is within fifty feet of the walls, a voice booms from the interior of the town.  "We told you not to return, orcs!  We were once friends, but you have shown your true nature!"

Several orcs bristle at this, but their leader holds them back.  "We no show nothing.  We come prove you we friends, no raid you.  We find these men in mountains, they good.  You talk them.  They explain all pretty."  The orc nudges Trella forward.  Trella, in turn, nudges Kai forward.  Kai sighs and moves in front of the large group, her hands up in a gesture of peace.

"My friends," she begins, "these orcs, as strange as it may seem, speak the truth."

"Why should we believe you any more than them?" the disembodied voice queries.

Kai executes a graceful half-bow, half-curtsey.  "I am Kitailla Imana of Waterdeep, and these are my friends and fellow adventurers Trella, druid of Silvanus, Kyree, elven archer, Khail, paladin of Torm, and Rhien, monk of Ilmater.  We have had a part in bringing Mishakal, mistress of healing, to the Realms*, quested on behalf of Elminster the Mage of Shadowdale**, and slain a pit fiend from deepest Baator at the height of his power***.  We seek audience with Randall Morn."

Such is the force of Kai's personality that even those of the guard who do not believe her are awed into silence.  The newer members of the large band fare similarly, for a brief time viewing these five poorly dressed strangers as beings arrived straight out of an epic.  Then the moment passes, and a different voice speaks from inside the walls.

"Your speech is pretty, young lady, but it carries with it no more reason for belief than the orcs' claims.  In kinder times we would grant you entry, but these are not they, and we must bar the gates even during the daylight."

Kai is not finished, however, and motions for the orc leader to come forward.  The sorceress then exclaims, "If you would not believe my words, believe this!"  On her signal, the leader pulls the severed drow head from the sack, holding it before him like an offering.

"These orcs you spurn have slain the drow raiders, aiding your cause, just as they slew a red dragon in the mountains earlier this day.  Stand with them, or let your enemies conquer you separately!"

A long pause follows Kai's concluding remarks, during which time the orcs shuffle their feet nervously.  Eventually the gate does begin to open, however, revealing a man whose noble bearing belies the attire of one more at home in battle than sitting on a gilded throne.  Flanked by twenty well-armed guards, his jet hair whipping behind him in a sudden wind, the hereditary ruler of Daggerdale approaches the party with a smile twitching at the edges of his upturned mouth.

After introductions, Randall says, "That was quite a speech, my dear Kitailla.  May I ask how these orcs acquired so eloquent an advocate?"

Kai spreads out her arms and opens her palms.  "Chance, nothing more.  We believed their tale, and they aided us in exchange for our conveying of it to you.  May I take your presence as a sign that you too believe it?"

Randall Morn can no longer suppress his amusement.  "Aye, I believe it.  I've always found something fairly convincing about a severed head."  He chuckles.  "But are the pretty words around the head all true?"

Trella steps forward then, saying with authority, "To the letter."

Randall looks impressed.  "Then your presence is most fortuitous for us as well as the orcs."

Before explaining his comment, Randall turns to the porcine humanoids, inclining his head slightly to their leader.  "Please accept our apologies, friend orc, for falsely accusing you of the raids on our farms.  The suddenness of the attacks coupled with their viciousness took us by surprise, and we were too quick to blame you for them.  I hope we can put this behind us during these troubled times, and move forward again in friendship."

The lead orc snorts, answering, "We like stuff with apology, but we accept words anyway.  Orcs come soon with gems to trade.  You let in, right?"

Randall smiles.  "Of course.  And rest assured your orcs will receive fair prices upon their arrival."

The orc leader bares his tusks.  "That better.  Me tell orcs this, maybe they lose stupid ideas.  I go now talk to them."

Turning from Randall, the orc leader addresses the party.  "I worry about you take our stuff, but you do good with deal.  We never go back on word."  The orc grabs a token from a belt pouch that matches the symbol on his armor.  "Carry this into gate and think of where you want go.  You go then.  Many gates in mountains.  One gate in front of orc castle.  Me Grisnark.  You ask for me if come castle."  Grisnark gives the token to Trella and moves off back the way the party came with his small horde.

Randall Morn cuts the parting short, drawing the group's attention back to him.  "I must say, no matter how many times I interact with those orcs I'm surprised.  Years of fighting against slavering packs of them doesn't leave one ready for a civilized relationship.

"That is neither here nor there, however.  Please, come with me to my seat of power, such as it is.  We have much to discuss."

Kai, groaning inwardly that this discussion will somehow lead her not to go home, nevertheless puts on a polite front.  "It would be an honor," she solemnly intones.

Morn replies, "Honor is all-too-rarely a consequence of dealings in this place, but I appreciate the sentiment."  The nobleman turns on his heel and leads the party into the town of Dagger Falls.

While the sturdy stone that forms the walls of both town and home is pleasing to the eyes of both Lenara and Khail, others in the party find little cheer in suspicious, well-armed townspeople and a hamlet designed more for defense against snow and foe than for beauty.  For the majority, the quick trip through Dagger Falls’ open spaces is quite long enough, and the slightly more comfortable feel of Morn's residence is most welcome.

Apparently not one for pleasantries, Randall quickly comes to the point of his invitation.  "In other times I would offer a grand feast for man and orc alike at the ending of hostility, but we are in dire straits and can afford no such luxury.  As you may know, only recently was this dale liberated from Zhentish occupation, and the Keep's foul occupants continue to harry us on a daily basis.  The orcs in the mountains are a substantial aid, but they have many enemies and tend to overestimate their own ability.  In the west an evil power rises, spreading darkness from the Anauroch sand.  Scouts in the Border Forest—those that returned, anyway—have reported seeing shadows of men that appeared decidedly unfriendly.

"This pair of threats taxes our ability to recover from the occupation.  As such, we were wholly unprepared for what has befallen us recently.  Seven days ago, a band of drow raided several farms and freeholds about 10 miles south of here.  A number of people were killed, and the marauders caused much damage.  Local militia tracked the drow back to the vicinity of an old set of ruins on the western edge of the Dagger Hills.  Rumor has it that those crypts conceal an entrance to the Underdark.

"Three nights ago the drow raiders returned and caused even more damage.”  Morn’s fist slams against an oak table, causing an inkwell to fall to its side.  “These raids must stop, or the people of Daggerdale will lose all faith in the ability of this government to function.  Every day living here is a constant struggle to beat back evil from multiple sides while scratching out a living from soil blackened by war.  Adding an internal threat to the external will, I fear, sunder the fragile fabric of this society.”

Randall’s voice drops lower.  "Worse, these drow are not simple raiders.  They take neither goods nor captives away, instead engaging only in mindless slaughter.  My people are demoralized.”  He pauses, breathing deeply.

"I cannot compel your aid, nor offer much in recompense.  I can only beseech you to halt these raids so that my people might have a chance to rebuild what they have lost."

_*Their first adventure, which was a homebrewed, plane-hopping, characters-in-way-over-their-head quest.  The end result of it was to bring Mishakal (from Dragonlance) into the Forgotten Realms as a new lesser Power of healing.  I would have started posting from here, but it was all in 2E and I thought it might not be appropriate for this venue.  Though the core Stepchildren were all there then, having started at 1rst level, they were a much more fractious bunch.  Many of the most egregious alignment differences have since been smoothed out._

_**Their second adventure, much shorter than the first.  Again they were used by those more powerful than them to accomplish a goal they didn’t understand until after the fact._

_***Their third, and most recent, adventure.  The only goal in this one was survival.  The players did a great job in meeting it, and in slaying the mighty Razorus.  They really hated him.  Kyree’s player keeps telling me I should post this one, but again, it’s 2E._


----------



## htetickrt (Feb 25, 2004)

DM's note: I didn't really realize when I started posting this here that there was so much, well, _talking_, at the onset of the campaign. I've contemplated going back and deleting some, but, since the adventure itself has relatively few chances for discussion (and the related character development opportunities), I've decided to leave it in. Hopefully this doesn't mean the pace is too slow to make it interesting. Those craving for action need only persevere another two posts, whereupon the huge party starts being thinned by the bad guys.​ 
Randall Morn​ 
"It is nice to be in the Dales again," offers Dobi. "I for one would be happy to look into it, but I would ask of you one thing, if I may so presume, Lord Randall.

"It seems that you are still in rather tumultuous times. Might I ask whether you are still in communication with a Cormyrian embassy, through which I might send a message? I should at least check in."

Randall nods. "I will do my best, though roads are not what they used to be."

Quid quietly intones, "...and so sayeth the Lady, free the lands from strife, for only in peace doth profits flow ... Acquisitions 32:3.

"I would be happy to help you out, if the rest are willing anyway, though I do have some business matters I would like to discuss at your convenience."

Randall responds, "I'm afraid such matters will have to wait until the matter of the drow is resolved, for until then I do not know if there will be a Daggerdale with which to trade."

Danek looks hopefully over at Kai, who, lost in thought, is sadly stroking Snicker without noticing that the little animal is alertly and rather mischievously surveying the furnishings of Randall's home. The barbarian offers awkwardly, "Maybe we could come back in a few days and take care of the drow then. After we do some other stuff."

Snicker suddenly darts over to Randall and, perching on the back of his chair, starts pulling at the hair on the top of his head. When Kai leaps up, horrified, the pseudodragon flies back to her shoulder and innocently wraps his tail around her neck. "I'm so sorry," Kai apologizes to Randall, "he doesn't think I've been paying enough attention to him. It won't happen again."

Turning to Danek after the commotion settles down, she continues kindly, "Waiting will only allow more people to die. If everyone would like to take up this quest, I can put off my trip home. Although," she adds, turning again to Randall, "some time to equip ourselves before we depart can only increase our utility to you."

Randall brushes off Snicker's assault without comment. "Though perhaps not what you are used to, Dagger Falls does have a basic array of armor, weapons, and miscellany for your purchase. I'm afraid I can't offer transportation elsewhere, though you are free to approach this problem in any way you see fit."

Kyree turns to Randall and offers, as diplomatically as he can, "Thank you for directing us to a place where we can purchase some provisions. Unfortunately, we don't actually have money to use at this point. If you could, perhaps, offer us a loan of some sort...."

Cerridwin, seeking to avoid being turned into a snail, interrupts with a dazzling smile. "Wait, this reminds me of a song I know...." For the next five minutes the air is filled with a pleasant melody expressing the sheer joy of meandering around someplace known as a ‘mall.’

Randall's eyes lose focus slightly during the song, and his head sways along with the rhyming. Upon its completion, the ruler of Daggerdale smiles politely. "That was pretty, thank you," he says, though his eyes betray a hint of suspicion at the bard's motives. Cerridwin’s own smile goes perhaps a bit tighter, but she makes no other sign of her disappointment.

Turning back to Kyree, Randall says, "As I said earlier, I am afraid that Daggerdale is not wealthy." Sighing heavily, he adds, "However, I am prepared to offer a sum of 5,000 gold on completion of the task, of which half might be lent out beforehand. I can also grant 5,000 gold worth of healing from the local temple of Lathander."

Kyree smiles and bows his head as he says, "Thank you, that will be most helpful."

Trella slaps Kyree in the back and whispers, "Good work" after he secures some funds for their efforts. To Randall Morn, she says, "You have my staff and my aid, Mr. Morn. These drow will not know what hit them.” She pauses, stroking her cheek once. “I have a question about the raids. Did they choose farms of a particular size?" To clarify for her own sake, she adds, "I mean, were the targets and locations totally at random or could we reasonably guess where they'll strike next? If we could consult a map of the region, that would be most helpful."

Randall smiles broadly. "I am most glad to hear of this. There were only two raids thus far, and, as I said, we tracked the origin of the raids to the crypts ten miles south of here. The raids' targets appeared to be whatever was closest to the crypts. You are, of course, welcome to peruse our maps if you think they would help." At Randall’s comment, an attendant provides the party with detailed maps of the region.

Thinking aloud Trella says to no one in particular, "We need to get there from here. Maybe someone has a helpful spell; I could always become a bird or something and scout out the area while others are in transit."

Rhien comments, "A scout might be very useful, but I think we can easily walk there in a few hours tomorrow before dark. Or, we could procure horses, though most of those would have to wait above ground unless specially trained like Steve." Steve whinnies his agreement.

Snapping her fingers with a sudden thought, the druid offers, "If these drow are intent on mayhem, then I bet they'd love a chance to attack some representatives of Daggerdale's leaders, so, Mr. Morn, would you be able to send out word that you are sending royal survey teams with a small squad of troops to assess the damage? I am not asking you to do something huge or elaborate, just get the word out in case there are drow agents lurking somewhere who might relay the information. I'd like to see how or if they change their strategy. We'll need disguises if that idea is okay with everybody, something frilly for a few of us and soldier uniforms for others. I want frilly so they think I'm an easy target." She smiles evilly.

Randall responds, "To be honest, I'm not sure this would matter, given the violence and seemingly random carnage of the raids, but I would be happy to do this. I can also find appropriate disguises for you."

Andy clears his throat loudly. Approaching Morn with all the charisma he can manage, the monk extends a hand. "Captain Andy of the Thistlehome town guard. I have some experience in making preparations to repel invaders as my town was often attacked by, well, orcs and goblin kind. I would be eager to confer with my counterparts in the area regarding defensive measures we might take to minimize damage from future assaults. Maybe we can buy ourselves some time by taking simple precautions like strategic redeployment of local militia near sensitive or expensive assets."

Randall returns the handshake. "I am pleased that you are willing to help. When this is all over and rulership weighs less heavy on my head, we will have to sit down and discuss this Thistlehome someday, as I have not heard of it before now."

Danek scowls. "It's a dungheap," she mutters, nearly loud enough for Morn to hear her.

Dobi, master strategist, offers, "If I might offer a suggestion, perhaps when devising a plan of attack, we might consider splitting up, a two pronged attack so to speak. At least from my training, such large bands were never good for infiltration. And the split does not have to be based solely on experience, perhaps."

Trella replies, "I like that idea, maybe we could dispatch a small team to observe the crypts while the larger team looks pretty and sets the trap. The advance team would stall them—if they're spotted—and inform the larger group of the impending advance. Good thinking."

Rhien looks aggrieved. "No splitting up!" the monk uncharacteristically exclaims. "Splitting up is always bad!" He seems unwilling to discuss the matter further.

Quid asks, "Does anyone here speak any drow language, incidentally? I could prepare a spell to remedy that, but if someone knows, then that would be better.” There is collective head shaking in response to Quid's query.

She continues, "Also, I like the bait idea. If we are to confront them, it makes sense to meet as many as possible out in the open, rather than on their home turf.

"And, before heading for the crypts, it might be useful to visit the site of the last two attacks, to see if any clues were left behind in their tracks, perhaps talk to any survivors."

Randall shakes his head sadly. "You are welcome to visit the sites, but my men have done a thorough job searching for clues there already, and I have shared with you all that they have found. As I said, the attacks were savage, even for drow, and seemed to have little purpose other than to create fear and foment chaos. Only twelve drow footprints were found, but that was enough to slaughter many of my people."

Trella responds, “I think it’s probably best if we go anyway. No offense.”

Randal shrugs. “None taken. If there are not any more questions, I have business to which I must attend. My attendant will produce the money you have been promised, and it will be made known to the temple of Lathander that you should be allowed a certain measure of healing, should you need it. If you have additional need to speak with me, you can find me here much of the time. Thank you my friends, and may Tymora watch over you.”

The group leaves Randall’s presence somberly, anticipating another difficult road ahead. On the way out, the group is presented with 2,500 gold, split into five bags of coins. Quid sighs and mutters somewhat petulantly to no one in particular, "It never is easy, darn it. If not dragons or orcs, then Zhents and drow."

Trella ignores this. Easily slipping into her mantle as party leader, she instructs, “Kyree, you and me will go check out the attack sites real quick. The rest of you hit the stores and pick up whatever we’ll need. We’ll meet back here by nightfall and plan our attack.”


----------



## htetickrt (Feb 27, 2004)

Dagger Hills​ 
While discussing disguises, Trella's use of the word "frilly" piques Quid's attention. As soon as the druid leaves, the priest claps her hands together, "I can take charge of arranging the disguises. It has been ever so long since I have been back in civilization, I am curious of the latest fashions."  She immediately moves off in search of apparel, joined by Dobi.

The remainder of the large group seeks out purveyors of more practical goods, equipping themselves with what they can find of their desired provisions.  The local general store is well stocked, and yields nearly everything the party desires from it.  The armory proves to have a slightly less impressive selection, causing a bored Khail to forget entirely about buying some.  Noticing, Kai turns to Khail, looks him sarcastically up and down with a raised eyebrow, and asks with a smile, "You gonna get some armor for that?"

Khail clears his throat in response, glances at Lenara, and mutters, "Ahem, Yes, yes—some armor would be a good idea…."  Lenara seems slightly disappointed, but is still willing to aid the paladin with her fading knowledge of metalworking as he looks for suitable barding for his celestial warhorse.

Meanwhile, across town, Quid eventually settles on several sets of peasant/farmer outfits, realizing that Dagger Falls is not a haven of haute couture.  She is mollified, however, by the long conversation she and Dobi share about the latest Waterdhavian styles, and the doings of various much sought-after Silverymoon fashion designers.

As Dobi continues to fill Quid in on the latest gossip, "…apparently Sir Giacommo Artuzzi, that dirty old man, was having some sordid affair with some pretty boy half-elf. When Lady Artuzzi found out, she had both of them polymorphed into toads. I was lucky enough to purchase an Artuzzi gryphon-feather scarf, one of the last ones he made. I was to pick it up when I arrived at Silverymoon, hopefully it's still there…”, the sprightly halfling makes sure that the travel kit he packed in Waterdeep is still largely intact.  As soon as Quid has finished her purchases, he leads her to a nearby tavern, finds an unused soap box which he hops upon, pulls a wooden flute out of his pack, and plays a brief but bright Oriental tune in a diatonic key.

To those who stop to listen, Dobi relates the tale of Sage Ezra's further adventures in Kara-Tur, and the time when Ezra gained audience with the Grand Muk-Ee-Muk in his Golden Pleasure Dome in a room of silk and gold and 144 Eunuchs and 225 royal concubines. “Of course Ezra had been brought in wearing shackles, because of a fling he had had with Royal Concubine #114, Miss Peace-Blossom in the Garden of Heavenly Tranquility. Ezra had wooed the lovely Pease-Blossom with a poem:

‘Eyes as lovely
As a babbling river
doggerel haiku’

When his most eminent and supreme highness heard this, one tear formed in his most august eye, who then made a small gesture to the Grand Vizier. The sharp nosed man proclaimed, ‘in his exalted majesties most humble generosity, he shall spare the barbarian's life; instead he will be taken to the royal bloodletter for the Happy Snippity-Snip’ a term causing all 144 Eunuchs to grimace in remembered pain.”

After the tale, Dobi plies the fascinated tavern goers for information on the drow, not really expecting to get any.  He is not disappointed, learning only that the drow attack was all but unprecedented, and that its savagery and seeming irrationality scares the stuffing out of them.

While the rest of the party shops or regales, Kyree rides Trella the horse south with his usual dexterity, and enough wisdom not to make jokes about their positions.  A few paces away gallops Earl, enjoying the freedom to run alongside his new friend.  It takes the three only a short time to reach their destination, made obvious by the blackened remains of farmhouses a short way off of the trail.

Kyree dismounts and takes in the fell sight.  His eyes gravitate immediately toward the shattered houses.  “They didn’t take anything,” he whispers, looking away from the gruesome remains of a family dog.

Trella reverts to her usual form.  “Drow,” she says simply, as if that explains everything.

“Look, some places are left untouched.  And they didn’t even take the meat from the slaughtered cattle with them.”

“They weren’t here to pillage,” Trella intuits, “they were here to spread chaos and fear.”

Kyree shudders.  “Doing a good job over here.”

Trella mocking look back fades into pity.  “Let’s go back.  There’s nothing more to be learned here.”

**********

“That’s it, then,” Trella finishes her tale, pushing back from the table with long, tanned legs.

Kai glances around the near-empty tavern.  “I see why people would want to stay home.”  A small sigh escapes her lips at its mention.

“Let’s get some sleep.  I’d like to see the dawn tomorrow.  It might be the last for a while,” Quid remarks, earning another sigh from Kai.

**********

Trella roughly awakens Andy before donning her new armor and making her way to a warm breakfast.  The monk wipes the sleep from his eyes, deeply regretting her purchase as he watches her move away.  Sensing his eyes on her, Trella smirks and decides to order up a great feast for the large party from a suddenly helpful innkeeper.  She taunts Andy unmercifully as the group slowly files in for the meal, much to the delight of everyone who is not Andy.

Taking its leave of Dagger Falls, the group traverses the rough trail south with easy strides, reveling even in this short break from imminent danger.  Ten miles pass all too soon, and the party’s collective spirit is dampened upon viewing the destruction that Trella and Kyree explored earlier.

Moving west through the decimated homestead, Trella leads the party two miles from the main trail, past a low, rounded hill dotted with jutting boulders and dense briar patches.  Sere grasses crown its barren slopes.  Beyond this first rampart, a long chain of rugged hills stretches away to the south and to the east—the Dagger Hills.  The trail turns here and continues south, skirting the lower slopes.

Two old, small, stone buildings stand here in the shadow of the hill.  The ruined shells of several more lie nearby, overgrown with tough brown grass.  A niche has been cut in the hillside, just past the surface buildings.  Within it, a stone door stands closed in a masonry alcove.

Dobi comments dryly, “Mausoleums around a crypt.  How delightful.”

Khail strides purposefully to the first structure, examining the great double doors that bar the entrance to the ancient mausoleum.  The doors or the lintel may once have borne an inscription or crest, but centuries of wind and rain have erased any such marking, just as they have slowly eroded the structure of the building itself, leaving cracked walls and crumbling mortar in their wake.

The doors swing open easily at the paladin’s touch, revealing a dusty open area, littered with human refuse from the campsites of more than one grave robber or bandit, and four closed doors, presumably leading to crypts.  Training his eyes on each in turn, Khail is relieved to note the presence of no evil beyond any of the portals.

Vaguely bored, Kyree asks, “Should we go inside?”

Having no desire to examine the dead more closely, Kai shakes her head.  “This place has been well-looted.  There’s no sense disturbing their peace any more than it already has been.”

Quietly assenting—which causes Lenara to swoon at his manliness—Khail approaches the second mausoleum.  A single, massive, stone door bearing a weathered but still visible family crest marks the entrance to this crumbling mausoleum.

Their interest piqued by the crest, both Dobi and Cerridwin approach the doors with wide eyes.  The latter notes a single word, written in the Common tongue: “Chahir.”  Dobi, looking closer, finds the phrase “Together for Eternity.”

Grey eyes narrowed in suspicion, Khail extends his senses through the doorway.  “Evil!” he exclaims.  “Five moderate sources…and one strong one.  The taint is powerful here; it must be destroyed.”  Lowering his shoulder, the paladin slams into the door, his great strength overcoming the substantial resistance of the plugged portal.

After passing through the swirling dust, two ornately carved stone coffins can be seen lying side by side against the wall across from the door.  Dust lies thick on the floor, and the air inside is stale.  Kyree’s sharp eyes pick up traces of dirt on the floor near each coffin, dark spots among the light-colored dust.

The signs unmistakable, Rhien and Quid both hiss, “Vampires.”  An instant later, five vampire spawn materialize in front of the party, taunting the group.  “Thought to rob the dead, did you?  That’s what we thought we’d do too.”

Khail manifests his blade, the glow of which is itself a taunt to the undead, but is more concerned with the stronger aura he sensed.  Snicker answers this last riddle with a telepathic shout to all party members, “There’s an invisible one on top of the right coffin, and he’s been casting spells!”

_To be continued…_


----------



## htetickrt (Mar 3, 2004)

The Rage of Chahir​

Kyree rolls to the side and draws his bow, accepting the pain of a vampire spawn’s pummeling in order to deliver a volley of arrows from his bow at point-blank range. Andy leaps past him, looking to impress the ladies, and smacks one of the elf’s targets with his whirling nunchaku, much to his surprise. The sound of shattering ribs leads him to announce cockily, “That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” but no one pays much attention.

Rhien leaps over the undead assaulting him, avoiding its clumsy response, and lands lightly next to the coffin. His lack of sight causes his roundhouse to miss, but he nevertheless does manage to draw the vampire’s attention.

Below, Khail trades blows with a pair of spawn, sending one to mist. Lenara has eyes only for her obsession, crying out when she sees his life energy leeched by a glancing blow. Her subsequent cantrip causes the other undead to shudder, but it is Khail’s grin in response that makes her day.

For about five seconds. Then the lead vampire speaks and things descend rapidly into chaos. A barked word sends Rhien into a swoon, taking him out of the battle. With the most immediate threat gone, the sorcerer turns on the rest of the party, not caring if he catches his own spawn in the process. Multihued rays of light spill from his invisible hands in an expanding cone, blinding many due to their brilliance. Worse, they carry with them fire and acid and electricity and poison, burning and scorching as the large band scatters to the walls of the crypt.

Burned and blinded, Cerridwin feels the horribly scarred flesh of her lover beneath her hands and instinctively responds, sending healing magic to her with a gentle melody. Her timely efforts are all that prevent Lenara from expiring. Kai’s subsequent casting frees Rhien, though it does not reveal her opposite.

"Waukeen damn it," mutters Quid, turning her eyes to the heavens in frustration. "What a freakshow!" Drawing herself up, the priest suddenly appears much taller and more imposing than her slight 5'3" frame would lead one to expect. Menacingly brandishing the now humming gold coin inscribed with the face of a goddess, Quid, bathed by holy light and reflected glory, invokes in an uncharacteristically booming voice, "BY ALL THAT IS GOOD AND PROFITABLE, THOU WILST SUCCUMB TO THE ALMIGHTY WILL, THE INEFFABLE HANDMAIDEN OF THE INVISIBLE HAND, THE LILTING LADY WAUKEEN!" Positive energy floods the room at her invocation, and the remaining spawn cannot stand against it. They fall to dust at her feet.

Danek takes a step forward, but stops dead at Quid's demonstration, and then blinks. Turning back to the sole remaining vampire with a more righteous attitude, she shakes her fists in his general direction. "Yeah!" she shouts. "What she said!" Nothing appears to happen due to her efforts, but she feels better nonetheless.

Trella whispers, “Let’s show that upstart how it’s done.” She raises her arms, calling upon the power of Silvanus to turn the stone coffin into a thicket of spikes. This draws a curse from the vampire sorcerer, and the druid smiles wickedly in response.

Buttercup charges blindly forward, acting on telepathic directions from Snicker. Somehow the wild swings of his electric greataxe are fruitful, and he becomes the second to injure the vampire.

Far less foolhardy, Dobi backs into the corner, holding up the gold coin of Lady Luck that hangs from his neck in the hope that this will drive off the darkness. Though this does not immediately come to pass, the sound of a pair of arrows hitting home provides an alternative source of comfort.

The vampire begins to speak again, but Khail and Rhien are ready for him. His words are greeted with sword and fist, shattering his concentration. When Kai reveals his position by dispelling the magic that hid him, the battle is all but over. Searing light and holy fire set him ablaze, and a single arrow knocks him from his perch. As he struggles to his feet, Khail swings twice and neatly cuts him in two.

Though the undead turns rapidly to gas and attempts to float away, the location of his coffin is easily surmised. In a nonce, the sighted members of the party drag the covers off of all the coffins, stake the bodies inside, separate their heads, and sprinkle holy water over them for good measure. Khail is particular vigorous in this pursuit, liberally wetting the entire crypt floor with his personal stash of the stuff. “Never can be sure,” he is heard to mutter.

With the battle over, the clean up begins. Healing is dispensed freely for those who can partake of it, and the mass blindness passes in time. The discovery of a stone unicorn puts a damper on any excitement over a first victory, however. With no way to restore him for the time being, Trella sadly enlists Kyree’s help to carry her companion to the back of the tomb and bar the door.

“I don’t figure even tomb robbers will get excited by a statue,” she says quietly.

“Yeah, it’s not like there are any gems on it or anything,” Kyree agrees helpfully.

Trella glares at him.

The elf shuffles off. “Try to be supportive….”

Any chance Andy would offer his own clumsy words vanishes after this, so instead he heads out of the crypt to look for Jaalask, who seemed to vanish after being struck by a violet ray. Somehow he overcame that, apparently, and the monk sees the kobold in the distance, running away from the group as fast as his short legs will carry him. It seems that nearly dying in the beginning of a quest was enough to convince the humanoid that he’d be better off on his own. Sighing, Andy returns to convey this to the group. He goes to sulk in a corner when he receives only mild sympathy in response.

Not wanting to spend any more time in the cursed place, Trella exits the mausoleum, urging her companions to follow. After claiming a small pile of gold and magic, they do. Outside, Buttercup invokes his own faith and calls upon nearby flora to grow. Heeding the cleric’s summons, weeds and vines spring up around the crypt, enveloping it within minutes. When the job is done, Buttercup nods to himself and to Trella. “That should keep poor Earl safe,” he comments, earning him a pat on the back from the pleased druid. Andy suffers in silence.

Further down the path is a large pair of stone doors that blocks any more travel in that direction. Flanking the portal are a pair of columns carved to resemble warriors in full plate armor, their visored helmets open to reveal leering skulls. The doors are unadorned except for two stone handles, although gouge marks indicate that heavy tools dealt some damage to the doors in the past.

Pushing her hand against the door, Trella tests its strength. After a moment she comments blandly, “Locked.”

Khail flexes his arms before pounding on the door, but it holds against his attempt. Buttercup joins him for a second try, but still it stays intact. Finally, fed up, half the party hits the portal at a run, smashing it inward with a hail of dust and stone.

Once the debris settles enough for sunlight to filter in, a ten-foot wide hallway can be seen stretching into the distance, with no end in sight. More immediately, five dead drow, two female and three male, lie in the mouth of the tunnel. They have been stripped of arms and armor, but each still wears a black tabard emblazoned with a silver spiderweb insignia. The air here, not surprisingly, smells strongly of death.

Trella kneels to examine the bodies, spitting to the side as she does so. “Stupid drow were killed by small crossbow quarrels.”

Dobi inquires, “Don’t only drow usually have hand crossbows that use those?”

Trella smiles grimly, “Sir Dubious wins the kewpie doll. These were killed by their own kind. In fact,” Trella pauses as she discovers some tracks leading off into the passage, “there were about a dozen more of the scum present, and they dragged away two bodies that fell near the others.”

Kyree moves past the druid, noting for himself where the traps lead. “Stay here,” the elf instructs, while he lights his lantern, shields most of it, and creeps off into the darkness. He returns ten minutes later, looking disturbed. “The trail leads to a pretty sharp incline that descends into what appear to be natural caverns. There are three doors before reaching there. The first looks nondescript. The second was once obviously plastered shut, but there’s a wide crack in the plaster surrounding it, implying it was broken open at some point. I found chisel marks on the plaster, but the tracks didn’t lead into it. The third door is still plastered shut, and I didn’t touch it. I figured we should decide what we want to do first.”

Kai runs her hands through her hair. “Whatever we decide, I vote for having a plan before trying doors or moving down inclines. We were lucky our last encounter wasn’t even worse than it was.”

Trella’s eyes are clouded as she thinks on this.


----------



## htetickrt (Mar 11, 2004)

Into the Crypts

Eventually the druid speaks, her words laced with bitterness over the quick loss of Earl.  "Well," she remarks, "I don't see as the doors will gain us much if our goal is to find the drow who killed the other drow.  I'm not against searching behind the doors, but Kai's right, we were fortunate our losses were not greater.”  Her voice trails off.  Andy idly flicks his nunchaku from side to side without a word.

After a time, Trella breaks the silence again.  “Was the seam around the repaired plaster door tight?”

Kyree nods.

Danek frowns.  "Do we want to find some drow, or do we want to kill as many drow as we can?" she asks.  "I mean, if we can help it we don't want live drow behind us.  I think we should check out the doors."

Quid agrees, “as long as it is cost effective.”

Dobi states, “I’d prefer a somewhat more subtle approach…but I guess that isn’t likely with such a large and loud crowd.”

Kai frowns in turn.  "It's true that these bodies were systematically looted, not like the farms.  The drow who did this may not be the drow we're looking for."

Danek scowls.  “I’m opening a door.”  The portal creaks open without incident, and her lantern light spills into a wide hallway, apparently untouched for many a year.

Quid’s acquisitive eyes gleam at the promise of long-buried treasure, and she advances to crack the plaster seal open.  The ten tombs inside are clearly unmolested despite a previous entry into the burial room, and the Waukeenar swiftly discovers why.  At her approach, a quartet of golden lions appears and assails her, tearing flesh and muscle with ease.

Kyree reacts with alacrity, pumping arrows into the tangle of feline flesh.  Nearly tripping over herself in her zeal to retreat, Quid nevertheless manages to send one back to its Celestial abode, even as her scimitar, slick with blood, slips from her grasp and clatters noisily to the stone floor.

Khail pushes forward, his blade slicing down upon the lions with deadly force.  The paladin grimaces with each blow, but his duty is clear, and a second falls before him.  Danek, Trella, and Dobi advance past him, cutting muscle with blades and crushing bone with staff.  The trio eliminates the last of the crypt’s defenders, returning the dark place to a silence broken only by the quiet chanting of Buttercup as he minister’s to his fellow priest’s wounds.

Khail falls to one knee, begging forgiveness from Torm for his actions.  Quid retrieves her weapon and moves to examine the sarcophagi, drawing an angry stare from the paladin.  “This place is consecrated to the powers of good; we should not have intruded.”

Quid shrugs and begins searching the tombs.  “Perhaps, but these powers of good did not hesitate trying to kill someone who didn’t know that.  Anyway, we need whatever’s here more than the people buried here do.  Treasure needs to be spent, or you don’t get that pretty multiplier effect.”

Khail snorts but doesn’t press the issue, even after Quid’s pointed look upon uncovering a minor stash.  As the loot is loaded into the party’s burlap sack, the priests converge upon the Waukeenar, eliminating enough of her wounds so that only blood-splattered armor remains to remind her of her near demise.

Once the party has gathered again in the hallway, Trella slams her staff against the ground.  “That’s enough!” she thunders.  “If we’re going to go exploring, we’re going to do it intelligently, and as a group.  You all got it?”

Nods follow the druid’s proclamation, so as she approaches the third door she motions for the party to array itself behind her.  Reaching her hand out to the plaster sealing it, Trella seeks to test its strength.  She is quite unprepared for the jolt of raw negative energy that assails her on contact with the door, threatening to extinguish her very life.  It takes every bit of her potent constitution to stave off death, and even then she cannot escape a series of fresh wounds that open across her torso.

Trella backs away, snarling.  “Screw this!  This isn’t a drow grave, there aren’t drow inside the sealed crypt, and we’re not grave robbers.  We’re moving on.  Anyone have a problem with that?”

Somewhat cowed by her anger, the party remains silent.  Trella leads them to stairs that Kyree found, down into the deeper crypts.

A hallway of worked stone extends some twenty feet from the base of the stairs, then opens into what appears to be a natural cavern.  Graves are hollowed out from the walls of this cave, and some jumbles of bone are visible within.  Barely a glance is given to them as Trella moves the group past the cavern, and through a hewn stone passage into the next one.  The second is nearly identical to the first, save for the presence of a marble statue in its center.  The sculpted stone depicts a gaunt, alien-looking creature with bulbous eyes, an insect’s mandibles, and an elongated oval head.

Staring at it, Quid comments, “Why would anyone waste that much marble on Jergal, guardian of tombs and seneschal of the underworld?  It’s not like he’s been a major player for a while now.”

Rhien responds thoughtfully, “Perhaps this has been here for a long time.  Or perhaps that which the statue guards is dark indeed.”

Trella, still no-nonsense about matters, says, “Whatever it is, it’s not our concern.  We move on.”

The druid leads the party toward a barely noticeable bulge in the tunnel ahead, marked by graves only along the east wall.  Before she can take another step, Kyree stops her with a hissed warning.  “There’s some type of creature—no, several of them.  Gray with tentacles, and trying real hard not to be seen.  Um…I think they can hear me.”


----------



## htetickrt (Mar 16, 2004)

A Sticky Situation​

Kyree’s assessment proves right as eighteen distinct tentacles lash out from the darkness toward the mingled party. Moving quicker than they do, the elf backs up out of their likely range and fires a barrage of arrows at the closest. Lenara and Cerridwin join him, unleashing spells at the distant enemy. Wood and steel best magic, as the ropers prove resistant to the latter.
Kai shouts a warning before setting loose a fireball into their midst. Her spell proves brutally effective; though the middle roper is unaffected, the third ignites like tinder and the first is charred into death. Seeing this, Dobi backs away, content to let others handle this battle.

They must wait for the ropers’ response, however, as tentacles lash out from the darkness. The battle becomes a frantic melee as varied weaponry slaps at toughened flesh in an often-vain attempt to be free of the ropers’ strength-sapping embrace.

Khail slices through a tentacle holding Trella, but Quid and Andy are dragged along the rough cavern floor, futilely screaming their defiance. Danek pulls free of another by main force, shouts a battle cry, and charges heedless toward the fore.

Kyree and Kai continue their paired assault, and again bow defeats spell in a duel of efficacy. Cerridwin’s lilting voice rises about the din, bringing fresh courage to those whose hearts quail.

The pleasant tune only serves to anger the beasts further, and their flailing appendages send Danek to the ground, weaker than she ever was in her previous existence. The barbarian, no longer able to lift her armored limbs, does not like the feeling. She likes even less the feeling of invisible claws sinking into her tender torso, and even Cerridwin’s music is insufficient to push away the creeping fear that rises like bile in her throat as her body becomes paralyzed.

Though much of the group struggles near the ropers’ maws, Kyree’s aim remains steady and sure. Several arrows flash out, all hit their marks, and both ropers fall, releasing their intended meals. Unseen, Danek’s body is pulled down the hallway.

Thankfully for her, Rhien hears the scrape of Danek’s armor against stone at the last moment, and turns to view the barbarian apparently being dragged through a wall by an invisible creature. The monk shouts, “Danek’s in trouble,” and runs off after her, joined soon after by his companions. The wall proves insubstantial, and so no barrier to pass.

What is on the other side pleases no one. Danek lies in the center of a bone-strewn room like an offering, her web-entrapped, paralyzed, weakened body surrounded by eight huge, misshapen arachnid bodies. Poisonous goo drips from their fanged mouths, which are surrounded by hard chitinous plates that cover the entirety of their bodies.

Snicker, from his perch atop Kai’s shoulders, telepathically relays, “An ugly ghoul-like thing just dropped Danek off her and fled back through the illusionary wall."  Kai, recognizing her proximal foes, answers, “Maybe we should deal with the bebiliths first.”

_To be continued...._


----------



## htetickrt (Mar 18, 2004)

Bebilicious​ 
Trella snarls, “Fine, then,” in response to Kai, and raises her staff.  Andy, scared by this example of self-assured womanhood, backs away from what he hopes is immediate danger and launches a pair of sling bullets at the nearest bebilith.   One projectile misses wildly, while the second bounces harmlessly off of the demon’s chitinous carapace.  Gulping, the monk moves further out of the way.
Cerridwin’s elegant voice sings for haste, and it is granted to Quid as the latter moves toward the webs.  Rhien streaks past them both, launching himself into the heart of the melee.  As he strikes, Quid strides through the webbing, unhindered through Waukeen’s grace, and reaches Danek’s side.  A pair of prayers transports them to the rear of the battle and lifts the weakness and paralysis gripping the barbarian.  Barely able to process all that has happened to her today, Danek cries in Quid’s arms.  Rage, helplessness, relief, and sheer terror all vie to escape her newly healed body in a torrent of tears.

Kai and Kyree stand side by side, launching lightning and arrows into the massed tanar’ri.  The elf fells one, but the sorceress injures all, and it is not obvious who is the most efficacious.  Kyree smiles at his companion amidst the tumult; Kai, not sharing his fervor, does not reciprocate.

Coordinating in a manner that bespeaks some form of telepathic communication, the bebiliths retaliate.  One entangles a third of the group with its tough webbing, while the other six rend armor and flesh with legs that shred and chelicerae that poison.  Few escape unscathed, and newly-purchased armor now lines the cavern floor, broken and useless.

Dobi lifts flagging spirits as he shouts, “Have at thee, scurrilous rapscallions,” while drawing and firing missiles from a thin wand.  As four tiny explosions blossom across the body of a demon, Khail finally engages.  His holy blade slices Abyssal flesh with relative ease.

From within her entrapment, Trella loudly curses the bebiliths present, as well as all of their ancestors.  She summons a wall of flame to hedge them from her more vulnerable charges.  Most of the latter concentrate on getting free, but Cerridwin releases a cacophonous burst that damages her foes.

Sorely injured, Kai releases more lightning, then speaks a word to transport herself away from the thick of the battle.  She does not get to see another tanar’ri fall.  Kyree watches her go, holding off on his own shot for fear of an immediate retaliation.

Quid frees the archer of any such worry.  Priming her body to be an instrument of good, she lays hands upon the closest bebilith and abjures him from this plane.  Howling, the arachnid demon is sent swiftly back to the Abyss in a flash of white light.  Kyree thanks her by dropping another of their number with four sure shots.

The remaining tanar’ri respond no less furiously for their diminishment, ensnaring Danek and trading blows with Rhien and Khail.  The latter has the last word, tossing aside the remnants of his shield in order to slay those one who destroyed it with three powerful strokes.  Dobi mocks them all with a tale about a great Demon Lord named Bob who was so dumb he always spelled his name backwards.

Trella curses, “What in the Nine Hells are eight bebiliths doing in a freaking tunnel?”  Spying Rhien’s position through the flames, the druid and drops an ice storm where he is not.

The monk notices something near the flickering fire and speeds back through it, ignoring the injuries he sustains as a result.  Crashing into Trella with substantial momentum by virtue of supernatural speed, the monk manages to free the druid from the webbing.  As the two tumble to the ground, Rhien says, “There’s another invisible door on the other edge of the cavern.  I believe these are the guards for something else, possibly worse.  And I’m sure whatever that something is knows we’re here.”

Cerridwin’s eyes widen, fear gripping her tightly at this unwelcome news.  Swallowing rising bile, she readies an attack for the inevitable breaking of the bebiliths through the wall.  Kai gifts herself with flight, taking to the air to wait for an opportunity.  All is still for a moment on one side of the wall, then chaos erupts.

Three bebiliths burst through, scorch marks erupting across their carapaces as they do so.  Cerridwin’s discordant note adds to their pain, and the bard is triumphant as two pause in their charges, stunned by the effect.  Quid takes the opportunity to hack both Danek and Buttercup free with her scimitar as she moves unhindered through the webs.

Kai does not give them pause to react, launching a lightning bolt at the three.  Before the electricity has even dissipated, Kyree is firing arrows, scoring three hits on the one still in full possession of its faculties.  The tanar’ri falls to the ground, unable to respond as Khail hacks at its stunned companions.  Three strikes end the life of each.

Before the party can celebrate, or even catch its collective breath, the meaning of Danek’s placement in the bebilith’s cavern becomes clear.  Smartly watching the invisible wall leading into the cavern, Snicker telepathically projects the following into each person’s mind: “The ghoul-like thing is back, and it has friends!”


----------



## htetickrt (Mar 25, 2004)

Maurezhi​ 
Rhien advances just as four hideous ghoul-like creatures materialize in front of Danek and Andy, claws and teeth flying.  Both feel poison enter from the wounds, threatening paralysis, but a burst of positive energy restores them before they even start to seize up.  Rhien, from whom the burst originated, looks happy for the first time in many days.*

Behind him, Trella calls down divine fire to burn her foes.  Though the elemental part of the fiery column that explodes upon the demons seems to cause little harm, they cannot resist the holy energy that shares the flames’ trajectory.

Restored, Danek roars her displeasure, seemingly growing in stature as she rips through her enemy’s flesh twice.  Even her clouded mind is taken aback when both wounds close as soon as they are made.  Andy fares similarly, his nunchaku having no more lasting effect on his own foe.  Rhien, remembering a lesson from Mount Celestia**, whispers, “Maurezhi.  They’re tanar’ri.”

Kyree’s eyes grow cold.  “Then they die,” he whispers, backing up his words with a volley of arrows.

The elf’s attack proves the only true success in the party’s opening move, as weapons, spells, and even invoked positive energy all wash over the demons without effect.  Their front rank’s attempted retaliation is equally ineffectual, but those in the back have more luck.  Radiating cones of mind-numbing terror from their horrific forms, they force Kai, Dobi, and Lenara to flee at full speed.  The former two manage to place a fair distance between themselves and the tanar’ri in short order, but Lenara is trapped by webbing near the illusory door.  Her piteous screams of fear are distressing to those still in the battle.

Rhien in particular takes offense, and responds with a brutal series of blows that instantly slay a maurezhi.  The remaining three find further attempts at spellcasting prevented by the swarm of bats that emerge from nowhere to harry them on Trella’s command.

Quid’s gembomb explodes in a rainbow of force a moment later, causing the one struck to slip in earlier-created grease.  Pleased at her contribution, Cerridwin launches into a spirited ballad at the supremacy of archery as a martial practice.  Kyree blushes from the back, hiding his embarrassment with additional arrows.  Rhien finishes the archer’s target with a spinning kick, ignoring the sudden pain of torn flesh.

The remaining two tanar’ri flee from the grease and the bats, radiating naked terror as they go.  The feeling is contagious, and Kyree decides to join Dobi in the corner, trusting in the light of the wall of fire to save them both.

With the aid of Trella and Quid, Khail finally reaches the demons, who turn invisible at his approach.  Rhien closes his eyes and extends his senses, and then drops a third with a sequence of punishing blows.  Trella redirects her bats, allowing Khail to approximate the location of the final tanar’ri and connect thrice.

Desperate, the maurezhi summons a pair of ghouls.  Rhien ignores them and ends the existence of the final tanar’ri with a pair of kicks.  As the last of the webbing in the cavern is cleared by the efforts of the group, Danek pours positive energy into a roar of rage, turning both ghouls instantly to dust.

Before the party can be jumped by more villains, Khail calls for the fearful foursome to be gathered close while he activates his holy blade.  It takes numerous such attempts, but eventually the quite embarrassed quartet is freed.

Rhien, Andy, Danek, and Cerridwin, having backtracked to make sure nothing else was around to spring a trap, return soon after with a report.  Andy puffs out his chest and says, “We engaged in some reconnaissance along the perimeter.  We found several gems underneath the dead ropers.  A passage sloping sharply downward led south, and we did not explore this at all.  Mister Rhien thinks this leads into the underdark, and we didn’t want to explore alone.  In a cavern off of the main path was the nest of these mauricey things, and quite a bit of treasure.  Mister Rhien thinks that each of the piles was for someone that was eaten, which is gross, but not as gross as this guy I knew in the army who used to eat roaches with peanut butter.  Cerridwin sang to detect magic, and the materiel glowed a great deal.  We brought it back in a sack to examine.”  The monk chuckles at humor only he finds funny.

Once the goods are distributed, Rhien reminds the party of the other illusory wall on the opposite side of the bebilith cave.  “I think it’s worth exploring now, given our relative health and the likelihood that the tanar’ri were in place as guards for something that could quite possibly have sent the raids.  They are surely alerted to our presence already; if we leave now we might catch them by surprise later, but at the risk of their leaving entirely to carry on the raids from elsewhere.”

Trella shrugs.  “I’m game for at least checking out the next room.  Killing drow is good work if you can get it.”  The wildly beautiful druid smirks and strides confidently over to the wall and then through it.

On the other side, a white-haired, dark-skinned woman sits crumpled against the north wall, sobbing quietly.  Graves line the cavern walls all around.

Trella advances on the crying drow.  “Crying because we smoked your demons, b*tch?” she mocks while cautiously approaching with the party in tow.

As soon as the last member of the band files through the cavern’s entrance, the drow stands and snarls in elvish, “No, I’m crying because you’re fouling this place with your presence, surface scum.”  She tries and fails to charm Kai with a spell; from behind the group, a large spider fires a web at Khail, enveloping him in its sticky strands.

However, for all their venom, the two aranea are hopelessly outmatched in this battle.  Kyree takes aim at the spider on the ceiling, slaying it with four arrows, while Trella bashes the latter’s head into a pulpy mess with four strikes of her staff.  Rhien indicates another illusory wall to the east, so Kai burns down the webbing leading to it with a spell for good measure.

Kyree approaches the illusion and listens closely, his attempt hindered only by the sounds of Khail’s struggle to escape his entanglement.  After a sufficient time, the elf shares his findings.

“Several people,” he says, “some moving, some speaking.  Can’t understand their language.  I think they know we’re here.  Wait…another voice, speaking common.  Sounds pissed.  Something about killing the rest of her group, and having nothing to do with us.  I think they have a prisoner.”

Recovering some of his flair, Dobi says jauntily, “Well I suppose we ought to rescue him, right?”

Kyree responds, “I think it’s a her.  And her accent is similar to yours.  Hold on.”  The elf fades into the shadows and moves through the wall.  He comes back quickly and reports.  “There are several drow in there, at least by the sound.  There wasn’t much more than a candle lit in there, so I couldn’t see well, but I think I made out at least eight humanoid shapes.  One was much smaller and non-moving, so she might be the prisoner.  They clearly know we’re here, and are waiting for us to enter.”

_* Near the end of their last campaign, the Stepchildren were individually given choices of life paths to follow (with an eye to a 3E conversion in the future).  Rhien was a 2E monk, meaning he was an amalgamation of weird clerical spells and unarmed combat ability.  His choice was between the martial route and what appeared to be a path more closely devoted to healing.  Because of the suffering he had seen recently, and his fear that he and he friends would fall (and have their souls eternally snuffed out), he chose the former.  At this point in the story, he mourns the passing of his ability to ameliorate harm greatly.  However, his gloves allow for limited usage potent healing, which provides some consolation to the monk._

_** The Stepchildren’s very first campaign was a plane-hopping one in true Planescape spirit, and at one point they were attempting to climb Mount Celestia via a series of tests.  Their reward for passing a particularly grueling one was innate knowledge of many planar details, which helped them to deal with subsequent planar encounters.  Upon conversion to 3E, this became a +5 perfection bonus to knowledge: the planes, with the latter becoming a class skill for all as well._


----------



## htetickrt (Apr 1, 2004)

Tierak Morcane​ 

Trella has one idea. "Anybody got a torch or other source of light we can throw onto the floor when we go in there? I want to blind those Underdark cockroach rat bastards as we enter. They're expecting us, so we need to get back some element of surprise. We'll need the light regardless since not all of us are blessed with the ability to see in darkness. Hey, where are my bats?" Realizing that they are long since gone due to her lack of continued concentration, the skilled druid summons a new bat with a spell. Expending a charge from her staff, she instructs it to explore the next room with its echolocation.

The bat leaves forthwith on its mission, returning a minute later with news. Before it vanishes to reappear in its native land, it imparts to Trella the lay of the cavern. She relays the following: “Battie says there is a short passageway, about thirty feet long, that leads into an irregularly shaped cavern. The cavern is sixty feet long at its longest, and forty feet long at its widest, and seems to have no other exits. Battie didn’t get a good look at the drow, but from his description of their camp it sounds like they’ve been there for a while. The female halfling is near the far end of the cavern, tied to a post.”

Dobi attempts to maintain a bit of his dignity after his decidedly ungentlemanlike showing in the face of the maurezhi. "A Cormyrian damsel in distress; we must rescue her at once.” Drawing a pair of daggers and rendering himself invisible, the halfling moves stealthily into the room, looking for a promising target. Clearly the combination of the damsel and his recent indignities has changed his opinion regarding a diplomatic solution.

Quid hurriedly blesses the party before Dobi leaves. Acknowledging Trella’s suggestion—and compliment—she then casts ‘daylight’ on a nearby stone, placing it in a pocket until the right time presents itself. Finally, she casts ‘comprehend languages,’ deciding that she might have an opportunity to gain some potentially useful information if a hostage could be taken, and so should therefore be ready for this. At least this is what she tells herself after she realizes that the magic requires her to touch the spell’s subject. Danek, who was preparing similar magic, snorts and falls silent.

Quid glances at her, adjusts her holy symbol and pronounces, “Strike while the Iron is Hot (Ventures 23:7).”

Kai, who has been looking sheepish since her fear was dispelled, brightens at the news of humanoids in the next room. "If they speak elvish, I can use enchantment spells on them," she enthuses. "Oh, this could be good! Does anyone want to be invisible?"

"ME! ME! ME!" Andy exclaims with hand raised.

"Well, all right," Kai replies, giving him the spell. "But don't do anything rash. Those drow could be really tough. Remember you're visible once you attack." She tries not to make it sound like a hint.

Andy puts on his serious face. “I just want to get close to them to launch a stunning attack. Did you know I was stunning?” The monk chuckles at his own pun.

Danek makes a sour face, and after a long while offers, "I could stay here and watch our backs or something. I'm not afraid," she growls, glowering around at the group's members in turn, "I just.... I mean—well, I don't want to get in the way," she finishes, turning her back immediately and stalking to the wall of the room, where she kicks a rock for good measure.

Rhien, growing ever more concerned for Dobi’s welfare, pats Danek on the back. “That’s good thinking,” he says, before moving into the passage, pausing briefly to heal his remaining wounds through deep concentration. Quid calls upon Waukeen’s favor to strengthen her attacks before joining him. Cupping the daylight-infused rock in her hand, she worries that Dobi has not properly read Acquisitions 12:15: "Appearances are not always as they seem. Thus thou shall require cash up front."

Kai moves into position, turning Lenara invisible when she sees the wizard entering as well. The sound of casting spurs the rest of the group onward, and Kyree’s arm and Quid’s hand are in motion even before the illusory wall is breached.

Unfortunately, they are too late for Dobi, who was apparently seen quite easily by the twin drow mages. Lightning bolts fly from their quickened hands, flying without fail toward the halfling. Only raw instinct saves him, as he dodges both bolts. Rhien follows his lead, reacting instantly to the attack. The monk watches from a safe distance as lighting slams into the stone wall to his right, scarring it with the violence of the twinned spell.

The lightning only illuminates the cavern for an instant, and Kyree has to wait for Quid to throw her stone to fire. This happens a moment later, accompanied by the frantic casting of both mages. Nanoseconds before all drow present are blinded by the light, the two wizards summon chaos into being. First, webs completely block the passage leading into the cavern, capturing Kai, Andy, Lenara, and Buttercup in their sticky strands. Second, two larger bolts of lightning arc toward the partially-stuck party. One heads straight at Kyree, the other at Quid, and neither is able to avoid the subsequent shock. More horrifyingly, each bolt splits into eleven smaller ones, arcing toward each party member and frying all save Dobi and Rhien in turn.

Infuriated, Kyree nails one of the blinded, well-lit mages with four arrows. Despite the mage's stonelike skin, the potent archer draws drow blood. Running alongside the arrows with superhuman speed, Rhien easily avoids the blinded drow fighters, reaching an uninjured mage in time to pummel him viciously. Three blows later the drow’s face is barely recognizable as his body crumples to the ground, dead. The drow’s shocked twin snarls at Rhien and takes flight, easily reaching the top of the cavern.

Kai speeds up her own motions before smoothly ‘suggesting’ to one of the fighters in Elvish, “Don't you think we can all just sit down and work this out like civilized people?”

The majority of the drow ignore her, but two of the blinded warriors, apparently willing to discuss things rationally, sit down on the rough cavern floor and wait patiently to speak to Kai.

Worried suddenly for her life, the sole female drow in the room activates a hidden item and levitates to the ceiling, out of reach of all melee attacks. The three fighters still willing to fight quaff two potions in rapid succession, joining their leader in their air after the draughts take effect.

Deciding discretion is the better part of valor, Cerridwin makes use of her freedom from the webbing to join Danek outside of the cavern, singing a healing ditty as she goes. Khail covers his movement in the opposite direction with a bolt of holy energy that scorches the mage’s chest, causing him to sputter in anger.

Dobi takes a quick glance around, notes no one on the ground to attack him, and charges over to the prisoner. He as about to introduce himself when he realizes that he is invisible, and so settles for starting work on her ropes with his dagger. Lenara gives up her futile struggling and fires off two missiles at the mage. Both dissipate harmlessly before reaching him.

Andy flexes his muscles and, to his great surprise, breaks free of the webbing entangling him. The monk mends some of his own wounds before advancing. Trella takes flight with the aid of her staff, reaching the airborne drow for some ‘aggressive negotiations.’ Buttercup tries and fails to dispel the webs holding him in place.

Quid calls upon Waukeen to mend her numerous electrical burns. Next to her, Kyree curses at his inability to target the mage through the total cover afforded by the webbing. Instead the archer takes aim at the sole female, burying four arrows into her ebony skin. Blood flows freely from her numerous wounds as she turns a baleful eye to her hated surface-elf kin.

Kai and her drow counterpart trade castings. Numerous webs vanish at her command, while lightning again blasts the party at his, felling Lenara. A second spell of the drow becomes clear as Rhien rebounds from an invisible wall of force that repels the monk’s leaping attack.

Finally accustomed to the bright light flooding the cavern, three drow warriors descend to display expert skill with their rapiers, scoring deep wounds in the flesh of Kai and Kyree. The sorceress grimaces, but focuses on the obvious priestess of Lolth floating above her, and her inevitable response to the party’s assault. When the drow merely withdraws a wand and blasts Kyree with a ray of searing light—causing the elf to exclaim, “Hey, what did I do?”—she contemplates the meaning of this action.

While Khail attempts to dispel the webbing with his blade, and Andy tries unsuccessfully to scale a wall, Dobi finishes cutting the prisoner’s bindings, freeing her to take actions of her own. She immediately runs to the pile of her equipment and begins rearming, deciding to save thanks and introductions for later.

Twenty feet above them, Trella pummels her hapless foe, forcing the dazed priestess to back off to take stock of the situation.

Buttercup lumbers to Lenara, noting with relief that the wizard has managed to stabilize on her own. Picking her up in his meaty hands, the half-orc spirits her away from the combat to join the other two outside.

Inside the spherical wall of force, the drow mage quaffs a potion, healing a great number of his wounds. Satisfied with his level of health, the mage immolates himself in blue flames designed to injure any who dare touch him.

Kyree ignores him, slaying the supposed priestess with a pair of arrows, and injuring a warrior with two more. Kai grants Khail flight, then concentrates on the mind of the uninjured flying warrior. Despite his heritage, the drow is unable to cope with the full force of Kai’s personality, and the sorceress dominates his will completely.

Seeing the situation in hand, Quid burns another spell to heal herself. Rhien begins scaling the wall behind the wizard, waiting for his opportunity to strike.

On command, the dominated warrior flies gently to the ground to join his compatriots. The remaining two contemplate surrender, but upon seeing the feral mask that is Trella’s face, they reconsider, opening deep punctures in the flesh of Trella and Kai with their aerial assault. These latest wounds overcome the sorceress’ considerable endurance, and she crumples to the earth, bleeding heavily.

Able now to fly, Khail takes to the air after Kai’s nemesis. Easily reaching him, the paladin severs muscle from bone with one mighty swipe. Andy returns to the wall, this time climbing it with ease. Dobi watches Calla carefully, looking for a plot twist that would result in his being stabbed in the back by an attractive halfling he just met, but he only observes her donning her bracers and cloak.

Trella shrugs off her injuries, returning them in kind. Two more bashes to the head leave the warrior on the brink of unconsciousness. For good measure, Trella spits at the dark elf, exclaiming, “How do you like them apples, b*tch?” He has no response.

Danek rushes in then, desiring to aid the group in some way. Seeing Kai down, the barbarian is overcome with unexpected emotion and goes to kneel at her side. Words spill from her mouth before she knows what she is doing, and healing magic is extended to the sorceress, returning her to consciousness. The smile she gives Danek nearly melts the barbarian’s teenaged brain.

The remaining drow mage spies Rhien on the wall, and realizes that his time is about done. Figuring at least to take some people with him, he dismisses the wall of force, flies away from Rhien’s reach, and casts two spells in rapid succession. The first summons a griffon of fiendish descent between Trella and Khail, while the second creates a storm of hailstones around Kai and Kyree. The hail is brutal, taking out Kai and Kyree, while injuring Danek, Andy, and Quid. The griffon proves less efficacious, exhibiting an utter inability to strike the paladin.

Barely cognizant of his surroundings by virtue of copious injuries, Kyree calls upon his newfound faith to mend a minor wound. He rises slowly to his feet as Quid, noting that Kai is down and bleeding heavily, chooses to heal the sorceress with potent magic. For the second time in ten seconds, Kai returns to consciousness. Rhien notes this with relief, leaping from the wall and racing along the ground to keep up with the mage.

Despite being near death, the drow warriors fight bravely on, or at least those who still desire to fight do. Trella is pierced only once by a rapier, but Khail’s foe proves more adept, landing three blows against the powerful paladin [42 hp].

Khail responds, slaying him with two strokes of his blade. Andy continues his climb, readying himself for a leap off. Trella caves her foe’s skull in with one swing before flying over to deal with the mage.

As Danek heals Kyree further, Calla finishes gathering her things and begins looking around for her savior. Dobi remains silent, watching her carefully.

Meanwhile, the drow mage continues to make life difficult, first enveloping the four women present in a cone of frigid air that leaves Quid at death’s door, and then zapping Trella and Khail with a bolt of lightning from a different angle. Khail shrugs it off, and sends the fiendish griffon back to its own plane with two swipes of his holy blade.

Andy, bereft of a nearby target, calls to the paladin, “Hey, Khail! How about letting me ride piggyback? I was, uh, trained in that in the army and stuff.”

Khail shows hints of his former stoic personality as he shrugs and answers, “Sure.”

Excited, Andy leaps from his perch, barely catching onto Khail’s legs. The paladin sighs as the young monk scrambles up his back.

Deciding that the new halfling is at least not evil, Dobi drops his cloak of invisibility and approaches her with palms raised. She seems suspicious of his sudden appearance, but allows him to sing a few words of magic to heal her sole wounds.

Quite out of patience, Trella ignores injuries that would have felled the rhino whose skin she wears, and instead takes her frustration out on the mage. She smashes the butt of her staff into the wizard’s chest, receiving from his fire shield almost the same damage as she deals. The realization that her next strike could kill her penetrates her anger-clouded brain, and the druid backs off slightly.

On the ground, Danek runs to Quid, and just barely manages to revive her. The priestess groans and lifts herself to a sitting position. “Sweet Lady Waukeen that hurt,” she exclaims.

Cackling evilly, the mage focuses on Khail, sorely injuring him with both a lightning bolt and a barrage of magic missiles. Though the doughty paladin survives, his passenger fares far worse. The lightning fries Andy’s already addled brain, and sends his shattered body tumbling to the ground, his arms still grasping Khail’s shoulders in a macabre display of resoluteness.

Trella feels a surprising sense of loss as she watches his descent, but is quite surprised to see the body turn to dust, leaving only a smattering of items to fall to the ground. Catching an ethereal wind, the dust swirls, gathering into a vaguely humanoid form before, with a flash, reforming into an entirely new shape. The new Andy is a female halfling of Dobi’s stature. Though most of his skills have made the transformation, the change is still substantial, and New Andy can only gape at himself in astonishment. The “civilized” drow on the ground regard her with mild polite interest.

Unwilling to let the mage live another second, Kyree fires off four arrows through the deep cover of the webbing. All strike their marks, leaving the drow on the brink of death. Quid takes him over the edge as her flaming sling bullet snuffs out his life, leaving the group to assess the damages and deal with the fallout.

On cue, one of the seated drow asks in elvish, “Are you perchance ready to speak now?”


----------



## htetickrt (Apr 4, 2004)

A few crunchy bits on the changes as of the conclusion of the Tierak Morcane battle:

Andy was the first PC to die during this adventure.  Being five levels lower than the stepchildren, I knew that the "weird hangers-on," as I called them earlier in the thread, would be delicate, and I settled on an instant reincarnation rule for them if they died.  In character, it fit with their odd dynamic, and out of character it allowed me to keep the multiple PC experiment going for a while longer.  I was hoping for something weird to pop up, like a wolverine (this was 3.0E), but the best I got was a satyr.  I'll let you guess who became that later.  Andy's player, greywalker, had a lot of fun with the change, as you'll see in future installments.

The new PC, Calla, is actually run by a different player, and goes along with the higher-level characters.  She's a female halfling rogue13, pretty well-balanced in terms of trap detection/removal, sneaking, and scouting.  Definitely an asset to the previously rogue-free group.  Luckily he chose this rather than the evil sorceress he originally wanted.

More to come soon.


----------



## htetickrt (Apr 9, 2004)

Interrogation I​

Dobi scuffs his boots on the ground, silently cursing himself for not playing a larger role in the earlier combat. Resigning himself to greater levels of risk in the future, and seeing the situation well in hand, the halfling decides to introduce himself to Calla, much to the groans of Quid and others who have seen this display too many times. Doffing his feathered broad-brimmed hat with a circular flourish, he exclaims, "Sir Dobius of Elderberry, Knight-errant of Cormyr and Senior Interlocuter for His Majesty's and Her Regency's Foreign Service, pleased to be at your service. I do hope you are quite alright." Dobi attempts to kiss Calla's hand as he kneels to the ground, doing his best to ignore Andy and her naked form that lies suggestively on the ground, threatening to give his brain fits. "Though if you'd please, we'd like to know how you came to be in these circumstances," he concludes.

Quid, being a bit more practical, cuts in with, "I'd suggest continuing this interrogation in a safer locale, and unless Rhien can bust out another one of those mass heal dealies, perhaps we should head back to town for the night? I can teleport about half of us back. The lighter half, anyway."

Rhien answers slowly, "I could once more, but that would nearly exhaust the power of my gloves for many days. If that is the desire of the party I will do this, but I personally would advise retreating elsewhere to heal, and make a fresh start of things tomorrow. I'd be happy to keep a watch on the crypt entrance to help ensure no more raids occur while we are away.”

Seeing that Calla is too stunned by the recent events to give a response to his greeting, Dobi requests and is granted an enchanted mithril shirt. This leads him to launch into a yarn that was oft repeated when he was young, about a reckless halfling who got hold of a ring of invisibility and went off to make lots of mischief. In any case, that halfling had an elven mithril shirt, or a meeth-ril shirt as they called it. He ends his story abruptly when threatened with copyright infringement by the ever-lawful Khail.

While this is taking place, Trella curtly addresses the waiting drow, responding to their earlier question. In crisp Elven, Trella replies, "No, but my staff is." She flashes her bloody teeth and leaves talking with the drow to someone who can resist the urge to beat them into chunky salsa.

The druid begins counting her injuries, stopping after six wounds. Before backing off to perform some healing on herself, she points at the newly reincarnated Andy and says, "Put some clothes on her. Or something." Her voice is equal parts suppressed pain and composed leadership.

Andy inspects her new body in a state of disbelief and shock. Finally, she 
manages, "Whoa, I'm a chick? Whoa." She does not move or say much else for several moments, but she does ask if anyone has a mirror so she can "check out the new booty." No one offers one, as most are too busy studiously ignoring her antics. On orders from Trella, Rhien moves to destroy certain offensive items carried by the vanquished drow. The fervor with which he does so increases markedly as he watches his friends freely dispense healing.

Satisfied, Trella approaches Calla, and offers a curt introduction of her own after Dobi is done with his. "Hi. I'm Trella. You're welcome." She adds a knowing smile to the third sentence that connotes a softening of her otherwise tough tone. Calla, however, remains silent, nervously watching her odd saviors.

Recalling his own time in a body that was not his own, Kyree regards Andy empathically. When Andy sees the archer looking her way, she asks plainly, "Whaddaya think of the body?" It is difficult to tell if she's serious or if this is some bizarre defense mechanism brought on by shock, but she apparently expects an answer from Kyree, repeating the question when he does not immediately answer, and raising her chest for his benefit as emphasis of her need of an evaluation. Nearby, Trella contemplates beating Andy into paste.

Kyree, understanding Andy's confusion, merely says, "Very nice."

Andy runs over and hugs Kyree, new tears glistening in her brown eyes. "It is nice, isn't it? I always wanted to have a nice body to play with."

Trella is nearly apoplectic, her flushed face adding a demonic cast to the bloody half-elf. For his part, Kyree merely looks uncomfortable.

Danek watches the whole display in shock, clearly distressed by Andy's situation on multiple levels. When Andy hefts her assets, the barbarian's mouth pops open. Then she looks away and gets back to the business of healing people without a word. Cerridwin joins her, closing some of Lenara’s wounds with a song; Andy whispers, “Sweet.”

Trella mutters, "Just when I thought he hit rock bottom, he starts digging…." Andy ignores her, instead starting to hum something about her being “still Andy from the block,” as she digs into the drow’s clothing, displaying in her choices what is in her mind a keen fashion sense. When she has finished dressing in a manner that manages only to cover select portions of her anatomy, she struts around the room, asking to be called "A-Lo" as a way of differentiating her old and new selves. During her circuit she runs into Quid.

The Waukeenar takes Andy aside and offers him/her/it her counseling services. “At times of traumatic change like these, people often find it helps to have someone to talk to. Waukeen can help. And since you are such a friend, I'll only charge you 50 gold an hour.”

Andy seems disinterested during the talk. At the end of it, Andy asks Quid, "Hey, uh, I've got a question. What do you girls do when you get that, uh, not so fresh feeling? The answer isn't gonna cost me fifty gold 'cause I'll just ask somebody else if that's the case. I mean, I feel fresh now, but what about when I don't?" Her question sounds earnest, and her eyes are full of concern.

Quid nearly gives in to a fit of giggles, but manages barely to maintain her professional composure. "Well Andy, I could explain, but its only possible to do so in soft lighting while walking on a beach. I'm sorry. Was there anything else you'd like to ask me?"

Andy is disappointed but does not press the point. "Nah, you're off the hook for now. Until we find a beach, at least." The monk decides she is not yet satisfied with her new look, and retreats to “perfect” it.

Quid moves off to catalogue the treasure, after discussing with Kai and Trella the possibility of a brief shopping trip. The sorceress opts to deal with the captured drow first.

Sitting down a safe distance from them, Kai says to the drow, "You are gracious to agree to negotiations. I apologize for the delay. Let us begin. What are the aims you hoped to achieve by ambush?"

The drow look confused. "The aims should be clear. You were coming to kill us, so we tried to kill you first."

Kai frowns. "Our first objective was to free your prisoner. As you cannot hope to kill us now, what are your current aims?"

The drow look even more confused. One chuckles. "Not dying would be a good start."

Kai smiles. "Excellent! That gives us a place to begin. For our part, we would like information about the recent drow raids on the town of Daggerdale."

The drow respond, "We have nothing to do with any raids."

Kai inclines her head with the faintest suggestion of sarcasm. "But do you know anything of them?"

The dark elves chuckle. "I know you're probably unhappy about them."

Kai purses her lips. "You say you would like not to die?" she inquires slowly.

If the drow are affected by this threat, they make no indication. "Yes."

"Then we require more information. If you know such raids occurred, you know who carried them out."

A drow smirks. "I didn't say I knew anything about them. I just figured you wouldn't like them. You know, being all noble and all."

Kai thinks about this for a while, meanwhile checking the veracity of this story with the drow she has dominated. Finding that they have lied about nothing so far, she probes further to find if they did know about the raids. Discovering that they did not know about the raids, but had known that drow had been passing by in the caverns near them, she decides that any other useful information is likelier to be had from the dominated dark elf, despite her slight distaste for the mental coercion involved. Accordingly, she changes the subject. "Where did you acquire your prisoner?"

The drow looks around. "About five feet from you."

Kai asks, "What did you do to her companions?"

The drow smirks again, placing a delicate hand on his chest. "Me? Nothing."

At this point, Calla spits at the ground. "Drow scum. Their damned demon lackeys did the deed." Hearing this, Kai raises her eyebrows at the drow. "Which demon lackeys were those?"

He smirks again. "Who can keep track?"

"Surely you can name any others currently in your service."

He snorts. "What does it matter? Judging from the sound outside, you killed them all anyway."

"Including the ones responsible for the deaths of this halfling's companions?"

"Are there any alive in the outer two caverns?"

Kai considers all this. "What's your purpose in having all these caverns staffed in such a welcoming manner?"

The drow look at Kai like she's stupid. "Um... Not dying?" Kai returns the look. "Who are you expecting?" He responds, "Information for information, dearie. What are you doing here?"

Kai returns coolly, "We also are attempting not to die. On this point, perhaps we are at an impasse. What lies further down these caverns?"

He responds, "More caverns. What are you planning to do to the ones who carried out the raids, should you find them?"

Kai replies carefully, "We have not discussed the issue amongst ourselves yet. We have not yet enough information about the raids' purpose." Upon a pause on his part, she adds, "Why do you want to know?"

He responds quickly, "Because our interests might be aligned in this regard."

As he does not continue, she nods and asks, "How so?" He replies, "That depends. What are you planning to do with the raiders?"

"I have told you that we don't have enough information. Clearly we want to stop the raids."

He thinks for a long moment, and then says, "If this can only be accomplished through the deaths of everyone involved, are you willing to do that?"

Kai thinks this over in turn. "If that is indeed the only way, then truly we would be willing. We are aware, however, that it might be beyond our means, and would seek another solution. For instance, the chain of command that led to the raids would be one place to start, rather than mass slaughter."

He nods. "Good enough. Killing the chain of command would suit us just fine."

Trella listens, with various degrees of interest, to the series of peculiar and truly bizarre exchanges. Pulling Kai aside out of earshot of the drow, but not too far, she says, "No alliances with drow ever benefit anyone but the drow. They're telling the truth, fine, I believe them. It sounds to me like we've stumbled into some underdark power struggle. I doubt our boys in Daggerdale will be real happy if we tell them we left any drow down here, and I don't think that's a great idea anyway given the way these jerks have a tendency to ambush the surface when it suits them. If you want to release these guys as killing them presents a moral dilemma, okay, but I think we should find our own answers elsewhere." After some thought, she says, "See if this is some kind of house against house turf war." Pausing, Trella gets a sour look on her face. "On second thought, I don't really care one way or another, but they might so ask anyway."

Kyree offers, "We can always tie them to a tree...."*

Kai listens to Trella, stifles a chuckle at Kyree's remark, and returns to her questioning. The drow smirks at her. "Have a nice discussion?" one asks snidely.

Kai's fake smile belongs on a game show. "Surely. But I'd rather talk about you. Why do you want the raiders dead?"

The drow's face hardens. "Why does it matter? We're evil, right?"

Kai presses, "Is it some inter-house turf war?"

"In a manner of speaking."

"And what manner would that be?"

"A loose one."

"Care to enlighten us?"

"Not particularly."

"What if we said it was necessary for our cooperation?"

"I'd say you were lying. I'd say you would fight the raiders regardless of what I say." One drow turns to the other, their fingers moving rapidly in a silent speech. The other says, "But there's no harm in telling you, is there? After all, you can always pull out the information from our weak-willed companion, can't you?"

Kai says nothing, drumming her fingers lightly against the ground. After a sufficiently long pause, one of the drow speaks again. "Very well, maintain your facade. We are drow of Lolth, loyal to her always. We have little need to raid your pathetic surface dwellings; they are simply beneath us. The raiders follow the White Banshee, Kiaransalee. They were...lucky...and managed to take control of our ancestral home, Szith Morcane. We are House Morcane, and we will take it back."

Kai nods. "We must verify that your enemies are indeed the raiders. Why does the Banshee order the raids?"

The drow scowl. "How should we know? As we said, we're not involved."

Dobi is still in some sort of denial, and is willfully ignoring the new Andy. Fortunately, the interchange between Kai and the drow reminds him that he does indeed speak elvish.

Before addressing the drow, Dobi says to the huddle, "I feel 'tis best to pursue this while limiting bloodshed to the drow to only when necessary. I have known drow that can be quite honorable. Perhaps, if we could get to the root cause of this internecine dispute, we may be able to resolve the raids without having to personally cleanse the underdark of all its denizens, and instead root out the perpetrators.

"In any case, we still need information out of them. I want to play good cop if someone wants to help me out…."

_*Tying to a tree was the proposed solution of a priest of Lathander that Khail's player earlier ran.  When it was pointed out to him that this was more inhumane than simply killing the bad guy, he offerred to put food next to him.  We still find this funny years later._
_To be continued shortly...._


----------



## htetickrt (Apr 12, 2004)

Interrogation II​ 
Trella pumps her fist when it is revealed to be a drow vs. drow issue.  The druid whispers, "Okay, so here's my idea.  I don't think these guys would agree to any sort of offer of assistance or quid pro quo thing.  Frankly, I don't trust them to honor an agreement anyway.  But, I have an idea.  Let's tell them the truth: we're returning to these caverns within the day and killing whatever stands opposed to us.  Their goals and our goal can be met with or without their active assistance or opposition.  It would make a lot of sense for them to just stand back and let us kill all the Banshee b*tches for them.  They're too macho to accept our help so we won't insult them by offering it to them.  However, it is worth noting that all these gray skinned bastards look alike in the dark to us, so we're not going to pause and ask to see whether a drow we meet is a card carrying Banshee or Lolth follower.  We don't care.  If they want to take their chances with us on a drow killing rampage, then we won't shed a tear.  They can see we're capable of kicking their ass, and when we return we'll actually be ready to kick their asses.  I want them to know that we weren't prepared this time and look what we did.  If they want to avoid being caught up in our extremely prejudiced running riot, then they can make themselves scarce while we take it to the Banshees, or they can have a representative from their local spider lodge waiting for us here when we return in a day to coordinate their efforts with ours.  I mean, surely they're planning to retake their ancestral home.  They want to return to their home; we respect that.  However, I want these guys to take this message back to their leadership.  It would be a real shame if Sith Morgan or whatever the hell their little rat hole house is called gets totally trashed because of their unwillingness to send a guide to tell us where the good china is kept or whatever.  They're right, we're going to do whatever we want, but what we want and what they want overlap in this one instance."

Trella’s speech stirs Calla enough for the halfling to consider the group that saved her.  She nods in agreement and in understanding at Trella's assessment of the situation.

Dobi makes a show of checking to see if any of the fallen drow are still alive, though he knows none are.  Addressing the captives, he says in crisp and diplomatic elvish, "So sirs, you are very clever; I give you credit for your demonstrated wit. I am sure we can work out something to our mutual benefit. But, if we are to work together on this, you must give us some information. Why were you holding hostages? And what do you know of the motives behind the raids? And what else should we expect in these caverns?"

One drow responds, "Five minutes in a huddle and you come up with this?  We weren't holding hostages, we were questioning someone who entered our temporary home uninvited."  Calla makes gagging noises.  The drow ignore her.

"As I just said, I don't know of the motives behinds the raids.  The White Banshee's followers crave murder.  Maybe they just felt like it.  It's not my concern.

"The caverns I'm not going to tell you about, since then you'd have no reason to keep us around.  So, here's the deal I offer.  We go with you and point out potential ambushes, secret doors, old traps, and enemy weaknesses.  In return you let us have our home back and leave us any goods pillaged from our people.  You're free to take whatever else you find.  You may also have free passage through Szith Morcane for the next three months.  Deal?"

Trella again takes the group aside.  “I’m impressed,” she states, “as this was more than I expected from the drow.  Avoiding traps and navigating to Morcane is worth the risk, but I refuse to rearm the drow until they arrive at their destination.  If they put up a fuss, I’d be okay with Kai’s promising that they will be protected in the event of an ambush.  Andy will be assigned to their handling, and Kai will obviously need to keep an eye on them lest they start using their dark Art to bad ends.  I don't want any pillaged drow crap anyway.  I still want to meet with their leadership to discuss a formal arrangement for an assault on Morcane if these drow are willing.”

Kai conveys Trella’s stated feelings to the drow, leaving out the part about disarming, as she knows from the dominated drow that this would be a deal-breaker.

The drow's response to the mention of leadership is: "We are the leadership.  You talk to us."  Upon further probing of the dominated one by Kai, it is revealed that the party killed the last priest of Lolth in Szith Morcane during the earlier encounter.

Trella offers peace-binding of weapons as an alternative, worried that the drow will go nuts when Kai’s spell expires, but they utterly refuse.  "You want us not only to trust that you won't kill us, but also that you can protect us from anything or anyone we might meet?  No dice."

Trella stops short of pointing out that if the party had wanted them dead, they would not have stopped to chat with them.  Instead, she says, "Fine.  Keep your unbound weapons.  But you're on point.  You don't like that, tough.  Either way you're in the lead, whether you are walking ahead of us to point out stuff like a good ally, or running away from us because you're showing your true colors, I couldn't care less."  She mutters some choice invectives to herself in Druidic before settling down.  The drow accept Trella's stipulation without further comment.

Dobi is not entirely happy with this arrangement, and is uneasy with the drow’s being armed. His training insists that agreements between antagonistic parties can only be expected to happen if the terms are incentive compatible for all parties. However, thinking about it, Dobi concludes that perhaps these drow need the group more than it needs them.

"How many more of you are there in Szith Morcane? And how well trained?" Dobi asks.

The drow look vaguely insulted having to answer to Dobi.  "I don't know how many, but we're all surely trained better than you," one says, sneering.

Kai silently requests this information from the dominated drow, planning to share the answer later if it proves enlightening.  Meanwhile, she asks, "So, who is this Kiaransalee?  A drow leader?  A goddess?  Do her followers all come from certain houses?  Any information about the enemy will increase our odds against them."

The drow's eyes go hard.  All they will say is: "She's a demipower with scattered followers."

The dominated drow conveys the massacre experienced by the followers of Lolth in Szith Morcane and the likelihood that few if any survived.  The dead drow in the front of the crypt were of this group.

Soon after the conversation grinds to a halt, Quid offers to visit Amn to buy and sell goods with a noticeable gleam in her eye.  Purchase orders are given once the decision for her to go is made.  Trella offers to share a fraction of her gold with Calla if she needs or wants something, both to be neighborly and out of sympathy because Trella knows what it is like to be captured by extra-planar beings and nearly eaten by them.

Calla acknowledges the act of kindness with a hug, but declines.  "I will earn my keep, but I thank you for your generosity."  The druid is taken aback by the gesture, and quickly reevaluates her impression of the newcomer.  Taking Kai and Khail with her, the Waukeenar vanishes from view soon after this.

As soon as they leave, Andy corners Dobi, ignoring the halfling’s obvious discomfort.  "You seem like a male halfling with good taste in these sorts of things," she begins.  "So, tell me, and be honest here, am I hot?  I'm not really sure what passes for this among halflings."  When Dobi does not answer unconditionally affirmatively within seconds, Andy becomes obviously agitated and turns on the waterworks.  "I knew it, I'm hideous.  I'll never know what halfling relations feel like.  Why does this stuff always happen to me?  Why?"

Andy’s response triggers some autonomic response in the other halfling, who reflexively bows deep with a sweep of his cape, and gently takes Andy's diminutive hands in his own.  Staring deeply into her eyes (pleased that he doesn't have to crane his neck upward for a change), he says, "My darling belle, but of course you are beautiful, you are the very image of angelic perfection, your eyes are moon puddles and your smile radiates with Tymora's joy."  Dobi slowly, almost imperceptibly, lifts Andy's right hand.  "If necessary, I would fight Kelemvor himself, if only to see once more that smile."  Dobi ends with a gentle kiss, cringing only a little bit.

After Dobi's speech, Andy scratches her head and notices her longer curly hair for the first time.  Regarding the hand Dobi kissed, Andy says, "Uh, okay, so I _am_ hot?"  She sounds a bit confused by his rosy language.  Pressing on, she assumes it was an affirmative and thanks him for whatever it was he said.  Wandering off, she shakes her right hand, muttering, "I think I still prefer chicks.  This is so messed up.  I need a drink."

At the same time, in Amn, Quid hustles around the marketplace like a chef in her kitchen.  Goods and gold trade hands in a dizzying array of deals, pausing only while Quid tithes to both her church and her father.  After completing the party’s business she moves to reaffirm contacts within the city, but her companions grow restless.  Cutting short her efforts with a loud sigh, she accepts transportation back to the crypts.

After the new goods and gold are distributed, Kyree asks, “Hey, guys—did we want to try to turn Earl back from stone?”

Trella answers, “Yes, but not until the current situation is handled.”  Dark thoughts swirl around her head, all centered on the prospect of traipsing through a drow city during a turf war.  In the end, she adds only, “We need rest.”

Dobi nods from the corner of the cavern, where he has been ensconced for the last few hours composing a song about the party’s exploits against the demon-kin, carefully editing out any hint of cowardice.  In truth he is more than a bit distressed by Calla’s impassiveness to his own charms, and wonders if he is losing his touch.

Dobi is snapped back to reality when Calla exits her own long reverie.  "Pardon me for not speaking sooner,” she apologizes, addressing all assembled.  “I was a bit overwhelmed with my capture, and even more overwhelmed by a group of such colorful and powerful adventurers.  If I had my manners, I would have immediately announced my name as Calla Crabtree.  In all honesty, I can't tell you exactly how I came upon this place, or of my capture.  All that I can tell you is that I am overjoyed that you have released me and feel indebted to you all.  If I may be of service to your noble party, so be it.  My skills in adventuring are polished, but I always long for more."

With that, Calla bows low to the party, although her stature slightly weakens the effect.

Dobi is there in a flash, catching Calla's hand as she rises from her bow.  Doffing his feathered hat in a well practiced flourish, he graces said hand with a carefully honed and gentle kiss, happy that the fetching newcomer has waken from her catatonia.  He is especially pleased that she offers a more pleasant distraction than the oddity of Andy.

"Well said, dear one. I only regret that we had not arrived sooner to rescue you from your torment. You are welcome to come with us, though it would not be seemly to have one so fair as yourself to be traipsing about the underdark. It would not be proper."

Calla grabs Dobi's hand in a masculine shake, "You are quite charming, Dobi, and undoubtedly kind.  That is why I won’t mistake your words for a slight on my abilities.  I was bested by the drow because they outnumbered me.  If I am able to join your noble party, I shall not let that happen again.  My stature, my gender, and my fairness should not be mistaken by my friends as weakness, only misjudged by my enemies to their undoing.

"Would you be so kind as to tell me a bit about your current adventure?  What about these raids?"

Trella tells Calla the short version of the story, ending with, “You've overheard our recent revelations so no need to repeat them.”

"Quite the spunky one, I see," says a surprised Dobi with a wicked smile, "and quite the little fox." Dobi tenses briefly to duck any incoming slap, but Calla is too busy listening to Trella’s tale to respond.

"Well, if there is anything you need milady, Sir Dobius is at your service," finishes Dobi with a deep bow.

Trella ends any further games by changing her shape into that of a bat, and leading the large group back upward through the crypts to the surface.  Once there, healing is dispensed, leaving the party restored under the clear night sky.


----------



## htetickrt (Apr 22, 2004)

Upper Outpost​ 
As the party unpacks bedrolls and prepares its camp, Quid sidles up to Calla.  Her mild suspicions drive her to activate her domain power, and she begins trying to detect the rogue’s surface thoughts as she talks with her.  Questions about whence she came, how she came to be captured by the drow, and what she's doing in Daggerdale elicit minor bits of information—Calla’s from all over, her party was overwhelmed by the bebiliths and maurezhi in the crypts and all but her killed, her previous party was in Daggerdale looking into rumors of drow—but Calla’s mind proves too strong for the magic, and her speech is too smooth to reveal much more than she wants.  Quid leaves her feeling neither better nor worse about the situation.

Watches are set and the party settles into sleep, getting ready for the long day ahead.  Luckily, nothing intrudes upon anyone’s slumber during the night, and the day dawns clear and clean and luminous.  Only the drow do not have their spirits buoyed by this; they cringe at the brightness and wait impatiently as their reluctant partners partake of a meal and replenish their assorted magics.  When all are ready—Trella makes a great show of leisurely repacking her bag after stretching languorously—the drow lead the party back into the crypts.

Though all are watchful for the slightest threat, none emerges as the group backtracks to the bebilith nest.  Calla noticeably cringes as she stares in at the tattered webbing in the cavern.  Trella, noting this, urges the drow scouts onward, toward the lair of the maurezhi.  Reaching this they slow, and call for a halt.

Trella growls, “Why are you stopping?  Got cold feet?”

One of the drow whispers back, “Quiet you fool.  The racket you made in combat echoed throughout the caverns.  The servants of the White Banshee are undoubtedly ready, and hungering for your death.  They can see in the dark further than your lantern-light reaches, and they can hear your sharp tongue, half-breed.  I’d wager much there is a trap ahead.”

Calla says coldly, “They will neither see nor hear me,” and fades into the darkness without a sound before anyone can stop her.  One drow mutters something about the “slave races,” but is silenced by Trella’s glare.  Fifteen minutes later, Calla returns, none the worse for wear.  She is all business as she makes her report, golden curls tucked behind a dark hood.

“The drow scum was right; it is a trap.  Remnants of masonry rim the passage ahead, but whatever wall was there appears to have been broken through.  Beyond it the tunnel passes over some rubble before widening into a large natural cavern.  The only exit from this is a hole in the floor that travels down a narrow tunnel into another cavern.

“There are five drow sentries there, all armed with some sort of distance weapon.  All poisoned, no doubt.  They didn’t see me, but a hideous undead spider crawled up from the hole soon after I arrived and let them know someone was around.  I know it’s a trap because no one came looking for me; they just kept guarding the hole.  I couldn’t see what was down there before I left, other than a glimpse of something even more disgusting than the spider, all guts and blood.”

Trella cracks her knuckles loudly.  “I’m thinking shock and awe.  Anyone with me?”  Andy nervously gulps a potion of heroism in response.

Dobi puts up his hands.  “I believe we can find a peaceable solution.”  Quid seems amenable, imbuing a stone with daylight as insurance in case the discussion goes awry.

Trella’s eyebrows arch.  "Your desire for peace is, uh," she struggles to find a diplomatic word to express her thoughts, "interesting, but from what we've seen and learned from our dark skinned 'friends' here, these drow we face worship chaos.  Brokering a deal with them is probably not going to end well."

The drow are less polite.  "You are all fools if you think they will even allow you to parley.  Their poisoned bolts and arrows will be flying the moment they see you, and all your 'clever' plan will get you is a quick death."

Trella introduces the drow to ‘the bird.’ “I’ve had enough of these guys; let’s make all further plans out of earshot,” she grumbles.  Further planning occurs in this manner, ending in numerous preparations for a surprise charge.  Trella, in the form of a frog resting in Rhien’s pockets, croaks the signal when all are ready.

Mere moments later Rhien bursts into the cavern, holding Quid’s glowing stone aloft.  The sentries reflexively raise their hands to shield delicate eyes from the sudden brightness, and thus miss Trella’s leap out of Rhien’s pocket, reforming into a black puma before she hits the ground.  The big cat lands next to the undead spider, growling deep in her throat; nearby Rhien assails a stunned sentry, and Steve’s heavy footsteps announce the coming of Khail to foes near and far.

The drow are not cowed by the display and retaliate, but the impact of their efforts is minimal.  Of more concern is the rhythmic chanting audible from the bottom of the gap in the floor.  Kai sends a mass of acrid gas in after the sound.  Trella conveys her approval by brutally savaging the undead spider; Kyree adds his via a barrage of deadly arrows.

As the rest of the party finally engages, four more undead spiders pass unharmed through the poison cloud and assail the group.  Two continue on to Trella, biting at her puma form with darkly glowing chelicerae.  The power of these natural weapons becomes apparent as the minimal damage one inflicts is accompanied not by the expected poison, but by a surge of negative energy that saps the druid’s strength.

Though the undead spiders are odious, behind them lies a much more fearsome sight.  Pushing ten common drow warriors to their deaths in the poison cloud, ten revolting creatures begin marching up the passage.  Lacking skin and fat, the drow-shaped undead continually ooze caustic blood from their exposed musculature.  Rather than close to melee, the two leading undead choose instead to stand behind the spiders and spit acidic blood at Quid and Khail.  Both globs strike only stone, but the splashes nevertheless injure both Khail and Quid.

Seeing undead, Danek charges forward and shouts, “Go away!”  Much to her surprise, one of the arachnids does back away from Rhien.  Buttercup mimics the actions, leaving only one wraith spider in active combat.

Lenara targets this undead spider with two magic missiles as she advances further.  The wizard then gasps awestruck as Khail charges the flayed drow, calling upon Torm’s power to turn them away while his celestial warhorse beats at the closest one with his mighty hooves.  Acid sizzles against the horse’s flesh, but his celestial nature makes him resistant to such concerns.  The now injured undead finds the combination too potent for it, and makes its way urgently away from the battle, taking the last of the wraith spiders with it.

The drow sentries look to their rear, hoping perhaps to retreat from their own near-certain demise, but seeing the horrifying remains of their kin approach they turn and face their doom.  For all they manage in the way of retaliation, though, they may as well have left.  Their lot worsens further as Calla, silent as a ghost, takes the head of one of their number with a flick of her wrist.

From beyond the ranks of the undead, a green beam flies to impact Khail without fail.  Powerful death magic threatens to fell him, but the doughty paladin overcomes the worst of it.  However, new wounds opened on his skin bespeak the magnitude of the assault from below.  Kai answers with a pair of fireballs that end the sentries’ resistance and blacken the flesh of the marching undead.

Not wanting to stain her fur with acid, Trella leaves the flayed drow to her companions, instead rending an arachnid with tooth and claw.  Arrows from the bows of Kyree and Dobi fly past her feline form as they plunk into the flayed drow.

If the undead feel pain, they make no signal of this as they advance despite their numerous burns, spitting blood as they come.  Khail is made the target for most of this on some silent signal, and he is coated in frothy acid by the barrage.  The paladin clears the viscous substance off his face with the back of his hand, enabling him to see Rhien’s charge past the undead and down the hole.  Though he spies only one foe, the monk’s sharp senses pick up three more invisible ones, all waiting for their opportunity to strike.  Ignoring them, he assails the round-faced visible priest with a jump kick, but cannot penetrate her layers of steel and magic.  She cackles at him after recovering from her shock, motioning for her invisible escorts to join in the fun.

Back above, Quid wades into the mass of undead, laying about herself with scimitar and nunchaku.  She drops one to the stone floor; Andy’s crossbow bolt finishes off a second.  Danek and Buttercup mimic this pairing, though with less success.

Khail does not have the attention to spare on this, needing to focus entirely on the undead surrounding him.  Giving free rein to Steve, the paladin leaps off his steed and swings his holy weapon in wide arcs, cutting deep into exposed muscle with every blow.  Two of the injured creatures fall to his blade, and a third is injured by Steve’s hooves.

Below them, the drow priestess reaches into her robes and gulps down the potion she finds there.  With the extra speed this grants her, she wreathes herself in cold flames, upping the ante for any who would strike her.

Her invisible minions take a more direct approach.  Two reveal themselves just outside the main fray, illuminated in the sudden light of a pair of lightning bolts that scorch those nearest them.  Barrages of missiles targeting Khail and Rhien follow soon after.

Unlike her injured comrades, Calla smiles at the appearance of the flying drow, as she was beginning to despair of finding an adequate home for her dagger.  One toss later and an acid-filled wound appears in a drow’s shoulder.

Stung by the lightning, Kai retaliates with magic of her own.  Her first spell brings one drow caster firmly under her control; her next injures the other one.  Trella smiles toothily before destroying yet another arachnid with extreme prejudice.  Kyree continues firing at the undead drow, eliminating one with four arrows to the chest.  Dobi adds his darts to a flying drow’s rear.

Below, Rhien ignores the flaming shield, focusing on what he believes is the greatest threat.  Eschewing damage entirely, the monk summons his ki in an attempt to freeze the priest’s very lifeblood.  As the flesh on Rhien’s hand burns, the cleric’s body freezes in paralysis.

Quid, Andy, Danek, Lenara, Buttercup, Khail, and Steve gang up on the undead, leaving naught that has not been turned away standing.  Calla’s dagger cleanly enters the chest of a flying drow, exiting with his heart attached.  The wizard dies instantly, and the heart is dissolved by the blade’s acid before returning to the rogue’s outstretched hand.  Dobi, who was about to throw his own darts, barely stifles a groan at Calla’s style.

In a display of apparent loyalty quite odd for the normally opportunistic drow, the flying wizard below ignores the monk, choosing instead to snatch up the priestess despite the intense burns he suffers in doing so.  Rhien contemplates following them, but thinks better of this when they quickly pass out of his visual range.

Seeing the fight above over for the time being, Kai directs the dominated drow to eliminate the cowering undead.  Between them and Kyree, those remaining are felled in only a few seconds.

Rhien returns to his companions, his swift movement surprising all but the most watchful.  “There was a priestess of the White Banshee below.  High ranking, I believe.  She got away with the third of her guards.  He’s flying and they know the region, so we have little chance of catching them.  Everyone okay up here?”  Typically, the monk ignores the third degree burns on his hand and forearm.

Khail brushes off his question, the acid burns on his skin proving unable to dampen his good mood after riding his mighty steed into combat.  “We’re all fine, or close enough so.”

Kai advances with a smile of her own.  “And we have a new friend to question.”  She points to the flying drow, calmly waiting for instructions from his new master.  “This time I’m not wasting my time with pointless banter.”  The last is directed toward the drow with whom she made the earlier deal, who sat out the fight entirely when no one directly ordered them to engage.

The sorceress calls down the guard, and spends the next five minutes probing his mind telepathically as the rest of the party waits for her report.  When she finally gives it, her face is grim.  “His name is Raphael F’eran, and he is, or was, an arcane guard in the service of one Velina T’sarran, whom I take to be the priestess Rhien fought.  She, in turn, is a foul-tempered niece—one of a pair of twins, actually, though they hate each other—of someone known as Irae T’sarran.  He knows virtually nothing about her, other than he’d rather die horribly than cross her.  That puts some limit on his usefulness, as he could try to break free of the domination if he thinks I’m trying to make him do that.”

Kai runs her hands through her shoulder-length brown hair.  “I tried to work around this, and discovered a few things.  Those disgusting undead things are known as quth-maren.  They’re created by priests of Kiaransalee from the corpses of drow clerics that have been flayed to death.  Besides dripping and spitting acid, their gaze can cause fear, they are difficult to turn, they heal fast, and they can command other undead.  There is no telling how many of them are in the Underdark, but I get the feeling the number is not insubstantial.

“The sentries and the spiders are always here, guarding the passage to Szith Morcane.  The guards, Velina, and the quth-maren, along with those drow commoners, were a raiding party gathered to slay the ‘surface scum’ that had poked their noses where they didn’t belong.  When the powers that be here discover that the raiding party failed, they’ll most likely wait until we are weakened or sleeping and then send in what they call a hunter-killer team.  I get the feeling this won’t be pleasant.

“By this point I could sense significant mental resistance, so I didn’t push too hard.  I did find out that there are definite protocols to follow in the event that the city’s security has been breached.  Raphael wouldn’t go into details, however.  I also discovered that the stone wall into which this hallway apparently dead-ends is a recent addition, and that behind it lies a few huge spiders and driders.  They’re enemies of the drow, and were sealed off to prevent any disruptions.  A hole on our side of the wall leads to the drow city, which will know we’re coming.”


----------



## htetickrt (May 4, 2004)

Entry Post​
Ignoring the discussion, Dobi, Kyree, Cerridwin, and Andy rummage through the loot taken from the fallen.  For her part, Trella seems disgusted by the drow stuff as she pads by it.  Reverting to her normal form, she is heard to mutter, "Like the puma shape."

Quid ignores the item grabbing as well, and suggests the group move forward immediately, before the drow can prepare for its arrival.  While she speaks, her hands bring healing to those who most require it.  "Do we want to release the spiders and driders?  I can probably make a hole in that wall of theirs; well, more likely damage it structurally so that it falls. Trella, you think you can convince the spiders to help us out?"

Kai replies before the druid can respond, "I bet that with some tulle and ribbon, we could make the entrance to the Underdark look really sweet, without using too much lace which would make it frilly.  And we should make some calls to our relatives.  Some of them must have a little boy or girl who would look just darling carrying in our weapons.  Or even...." her eyes wander over to Andy, Calla, and Dobi, speculatively weighing how each one would look in a little pink dress or tiny tuxedo, respectively.

Snapping out of her reverie after being nudged by Trella, she continues with a blush, "Oh, um...I meant, maybe our friends here can tell us whether the driders would be more or less on our side."  She looks over expectantly to the two undominated drow, questioning the dominated servant of Lolth silently in the meantime.

The undominated drow say nothing, though their eye rolling seems to indicate their opinion of the driders' usefulness.  The servant of Lolth telepathically indicates that the driders are half-mad with pain and hunger, and would be expected to attack anyone who comes within range.

Trella wipes an "are you kidding me?" look off her face.  “So, you guys and gals want the Underdark Traveling Circus to come to town, or not?  I’m leaning towards not.”  Turning to Kai, she says, “We should weigh the danger of bloodthirsty driders and creepy crawlers coming out and hurting us against gaining an even larger and more bizarre menagerie.”

Andy abstains with the comment, "icky spiders."

Quid proclaims, “‘Acquisitions 5 Why fight a war when you can get someone else to do it for you?’  Let’s cry havoc and let loose the dogs of war.  Most can wait somewhere else in safety, while a few of us stick around to tear the wall down. Then, having left the appropriate bread crumbs to make sure the driders know where to find their arch-nemeses, we teleport the heck out of there.  Then we come back and pick up the pieces.”

Dobi looks up from a fine cloak and wrinkles his nose.  “Seems vaguely ignoble, but I’m in.”

Kai thinks it over.  "I think the driders at least are going to be enough of a problem that bread crumbs may not work, even if we could figure out what would serve.  Walls might do the trick, but even then I'd want to make sure the monsters keep going forward rather than eventually turning back to attack us.  What if we wait here for the hunter-killer team, and prepare an ambush?  That way we'd be bringing the fodder here rather than trying to drive ravening monsters a long way toward them."

No one responds to Kai for a long while, prompting Rhien to speak up.  “If we’re not certain that this is a wise move, perhaps we should put off the decision.  As Quid pointed out, we don’t want to give the drow time to prepare their defenses against us, and setting it up so that the driders will attack the drow will take time.  If we decide to break through the wall and use them later, we can always come back and do that.”

A group shrug follows, which Trella takes to mean assent.  Accordingly, she gathers the party together and begins leading it down the tunnel vacated by the drow.  The path is steep, requiring full attention to be paid to movement, but no harm comes to anyone while traversing it.  The tunnel ends abruptly in a wall of hewn granite that looks rather out of place among these natural tunnels.  A hole gapes in the tunnel floor in front of the wall, and a large iron ring is set securely into the floor a couple of feet from the lip of the hole.

Trella examines the wall critically.  “Yep, wall of stone alright.  We could probably break down a big enough section to get a drider through in under a minute.  If we wanted to, that is.”  She looks down at the hole.  “Think there are some more drow down there?”

Khail, who is the closest to her, answers, “I think that’s likely.”

The drow accompanying the party answer more explicitly, “There’s an entry post there, usually guarded by a few sentries and a wraith spider to sense when people are above.  They already know we’re here, and I don’t know what’s there now.”

Trella nods, satisfied.  “Good.  Someone tie a rope to the iron hook.  When that’s done, Quid, drop your rock in the hole and let’s go have some fun.”

Quid nods her agreement and readies both rock and scimitar.  A brief discussion reveals that Lenara is the only one to have any skill in rope tying, so the job falls to her.  Luckily the task is not difficult, as her skill is not great.  Once the rope is in place, Quid tosses the stone, Rhien leaps into the hole after it, and the rest of the group begins sliding down the rope, fighter-types first.

Rhien rolls to his feet as the rock hits the floor, swiftly taking in his surroundings by its bright light.  A ten-foot drop through stone opens into a ten-foot high cavern, comfortably appointed with four padded chairs placed around a square wooden table.

The furniture pales in interest to the massed enemies, however.  The types of foes are familiar, though their numbers are different.  Six of the hideous quth-maren stand in a circle around the rope.  Two wraith spiders, slightly smaller than the previous ones, rest just outside this perimeter.

Around the edges of the room are the greater threats: drow warriors and mages, all shielding their eyes in a pre-arranged strategy clearly designed to combat the party’s chosen tactic.  Fifteen sentries like those above ring the eastern walls of the cavern, shielding five wizards standing behind them.  As Khail reaches the ground, one of the warrior’s hands opens and darkness immediately cancels out the daylight.  The only light is now the dim flicker of the lantern above, and in this illumination the advancing drow look deadly indeed.


----------



## htetickrt (May 5, 2004)

Battle for the Entry Post​
Calla’s eyes narrow at the thought of another drow trap.  Without hesitation the nimble rogue begins climbing the side of the hole, tossing her heavily enchanted dagger when she can spare the hand.  The corrosive blade bites into the hide of one of the wraith spiders with a dry shearing sound that grates on the ears.

Kai remains topside, speaking the familiar words of a spell.  With the increased speed this magic brings, the sorceress gifts Kyree with flight.

Rhien charges the advancing warriors as if to engage them, but at the last moment dives into a roll that carries him through their line, right into the face of a surprised wizard.  Plunging his feet through the wizard’s fire shield without harmful effect, the monk cracks ribs with a body blow.

Danek scans the battlefield from on high, waiting to see if her help is needed.  From her vantage point she cannot see the spellguards take flight and begin casting.  In perfect unison, all five fire sickly green rays at Rhien, Quid, Trella, and Khail, with two at the latter.  Only Khail and Quid are struck, and each easily avoids the strength-sapping spell.  Undeterred, the five fire off volleys of three missiles each against the same targets.  These have a greater effect, though the mystical projectiles dissipate before striking Rhien.

Cerridwin revels in her embeddedness, hoping one day to sit at the anchor desk.  She delivers a brilliant sung synopsis of the battle thus far that has the added effect of rendering Kyree much more difficult to hit.  The bard stumbles over her lines when the archer smiles at her in thanks, however, and she wonders why all this is happening to her.

The archer pays none of this any mind as he flies down through the hole and prepares to unleash a shock and awe campaign, not even pausing when Trella rolls her eyes over his copying of her earlier topical reference.  A single arrow plunks into the injured mage, letting him know the archer is around, before Kyree begins concentrating on having his bow produce a different effect.

Andy peers into the hole and lays down covering fire with her light crossbow.  Her bolt nicks undead flesh, and she pumps her tiny fist as she reloads it.  Trella drops to the ground with her quarterstaff already twirling, and she batters the undead marked by the bolt with extreme prejudice, connecting with its exposed musculature four times.

Dobi briefly contemplates wantonly jumping into the pit and tumbling to soften his fall, but instead decides to activate his boots, climb down the side of the wall, and get ready to disrupt the wizards’ spells.  Buttercup moves to stand with Danek, mirroring the half-elf’s watchful actions.

Quid sighs. "This could have been the driders in this trap and not us," she mutters to herself, slightly peeved as, after years of working within the church, she is not used to dealing with those of a less mercantile nature than she.  "Negotiations (Aggressive) 22 never bargain on your opponents’ terms," she is heard to mutter.

Putting those thoughts aside, Quid cries, "It’s a trap, gosh darn it, we're like goldfish in a fishbowl—grab hold," and then defensively envelops herself, Khail, and Trella in a luminescent doorway that slams shut on them, transporting the trio to a location behind three of the spellcasters.

Lenara cheers the escape of her new obsession, firing off two missiles at the injured undead to show her appreciation.  The object of this attention, Khail, recovers swiftly from his sudden translocation and chooses a different target.  This happens to be a rather hapless evoker, whose body—hovering too close to the ground—is sliced into four roughly equal pieces without even the dignity of having his fire shield be efficacious.

Having let the party make its presence known, the remainder of the enemy retaliates.  Two wraith spiders have no target, but the quth-maren do not let the sentries’ bodies stop them.  In a coordinated assault, all six spit acidic blood at Khail, who suddenly feels very put upon as he is splattered with the corrosive goop.  Neither Trella nor Quid are amused as they are hit as well.

As acid etches the stone floor of the cavern, the sentries move in for the attack.  Four swarm Rhien, managing to stab the monk with their rapiers once in eight tries.  Constrained somewhat by their positioning, two assault Quid, while three move off to engage both Trella and Khail.  Perhaps startled by their foes’ tactics, their aim is poor and they collectively manage only one hit.  The remaining three take aim with their hand crossbows at Calla and Kyree.  Only the archer is struck, and his elven blood renders the drow poison ineffectual.

Calla climbs down a little further, and is now able to see the mages.  Taking aim at the most injured one, she launches her newly-returned dagger at his face.  The blade tears a good chunk of his nose off, but the wizard doesn’t pause in his ascent, except to glare at the impudent rogue.

Kai takes flight after some words of magic and wings down to join Kyree.  Assessing the situation, she wills the healthy mage flying over to Rhien to turn into a chick.  Unfortunately, his enhanced constitution proves just enough to turn away his body’s sudden desire to grow yellow feathers and look cute, and the drow remains what he is.

Rhien’s target now out of reach, the monk turns and confronts the sentries ringing him, smashing one in the gut twice with his fist.  Seeing a clear shot at an undead spider, Danek plunks two arrows into its damaged exoskeleton, dropping it to the stony ground.  The barbarian nods to herself, clearly pleased at the outcome.

Dobi watches as the four evokers fly towards him, then up the shaft of the pit toward the rest of the party.  Climbing upwards, the wily rogue waits for his chance, ready to interrupt whatever magic they have planned.  Seeing the four start casting in unison, he attempts to activate his wand.  His attempt is successful, sending four blue-green bolts flying at the injured spellguard as his hands trace patterns in the air.  Dobi only hopes that the damage will be sufficient to distract him, and so is quite satisfied as the magic missiles kill him instead before he can cast.  This feeling rapidly fades as he realizes what is about to happen.

The three remaining casters finish their spells then, summoning huge hailstones to rain down upon the half of the party still topside.  Defenseless, the less-experienced group can only scream in horror and pain as they are alternatingly pummeled and frozen by the hail.  The damage is immense, instantly slaying both Cerridwin and Lenara, badly injuring Danek, Andy, and Buttercup, and damaging Steve and two of the “friendly” drow as well.  Dobi and Calla, shielded from half the impact (though not the cold) by virtue of their positions, suffer somewhat mitigated wounds.  Calla is barely able to hold on to her perch, but Dobi, fading rapidly into unconsciousness, is not.  The halfling falls rapidly to the earth, and ends up sprawled on the cold stone below, clinging to life by the barest of margins.  It is of no consequence to him that the body of the spider onto which he fell no longer holds to unlife.

Glorying in the success of their cruel plan, the spellguards reveal its second step, blanketing dispelling fields over the party’s drow companions.  This time their luck fails by a hair, and the two drow remain firmly under Kai’s control.  Their anger over this turns to shock as the battered and frozen bodies of Lenara and Cerridwin melt into a pool of multihued color, swirling in tightening circles before reforming.  Cerridwin’s body becomes that of a satyr—a red-haired horned man with the legs of a goat.  Lenara, meanwhile, does not change race, but her long blond tresses now look substantially different on the body of a human male.  Confused by the sudden alterations, the two wander away from the fray.

The screams above barely registering with him, so intent is he on his task, Kyree summons a powerful arrow of dispelling and sends it at the sentry holding the rock of darkness.  Kyree’s aim is true and the arrow strikes the rock soundly, beginning a soundless battle to stifle its effect.  In the end, the elf’s magic proves the stronger, and the rock loses all enchantment, immediately bathing the area in bright light.  Those non-drow below are momentarily stunned as their eyes adjust to the sudden daylight, but not nearly so much so as the fifteen sentries, who find themselves quite unable to act.

Andy sees the glow from the other side of the hole, but takes little comfort in its presence.  Barely holding to consciousness, the monk backs away, calling for aid while she concentrates on healing some of the numerous bruises blanketing her body.

Having seen Dobi fall, Buttercup makes the split-second decision that he can be of more good below than above, and dives for the rope.  Reaching the ground quickly, the cleric prays for healing magic on the fly, and brings the halfling back from the brink.

The battle splits into halves.  Below, Trella calls holy fire down on all she can reach with it.  The grouped quth-maren are caught in its area and burned to varying degrees, as are five of the nearest sentries.  Quid matches her, and this time three foes fall; nearby Khail slays an injured sentry with two hits, cutting the number to twelve.

Calla drops from her perch on the stone wall, sliding down the rope and coming to rest in front of a blinded sentry.  Her teeth bared in hatred, she swiftly stabs her dagger into his back, opening a gaping wound that leaks both blood and acid.

Above, Kai acts to eliminate her wizardly competitors.  Her dominated drow provide a physical threat, launching projectiles and swinging a spiked chain at their flying foes, while she offers a mental one.  Moving two fingers of her right hand from left to right, she helpfully suggests, “You want to sit down and rethink your life.  Take your time.”  Two suddenly get very pensive looks on their faces and fly off to take a seat outside of combat, going over all aspects of their lives up to now.  Given the longevity of their race, this promises to take a while.

The third mage remains defiant, and this feeling only deepens as Kai’s second attempt to turn him into something else—a fish, this time—fails again.  Below, Rhien punches a blinded drow in the face in sympathy.

Danek withdraws from combat, healing Andy with a touch.  Confused, the monk asks, “Are you coming on to me?”  Danek shivers and moves away.

Stunned by how close he came to death, Dobi is momentarily speechless.  Mumbling thanks to Buttercup, the bard crawls off toward the side of the cavern, leaving a trail of blood as he tells himself a healing tale.

The remaining wizard is ticked off, to put his expression mildly.  His first action replicates the previous one, dropping a hailstorm of ice on Kai and the drow.  The sorceress buffets in the storm, which continues downward to strike Buttercup as well.  The brave half-orc crumbles to the ground, nearly as badly off as Dobi was seconds earlier.  His second action summons a forked bolt of lightning with the same target as before.  Kai dodges the worst of it and the drow are unaffected, but the bolt continues on to strike Andy, Danek, and the newly reformed Lenara and Cerridwin as well.  The monk barely leaps out of the way, avoiding all injury, but Danek takes the bolt full in the chest, leaving her stunned and gasping.  Lenara just catches sight of the bolt as she wanders away, twisting to avoid some of the jolt, while Cerridwin feels his life threatened again as he is hit full on.  The two pick up speed in their retreat from combat.

Freed from concentration on his bow, Kyree’s sharp senses quickly discern the relevant details of the combat.  Making a split second decision, the elf decides that Kai and the others can handle the remaining mage and instead trains his fire on the quth-maren.  Four arrows later, one falls.

Trella takes out her aggression on one of the sentries surrounding her, sending him crashing to the ground with three brutal smashes of her quarterstaff.  The druid spits on his body as she twirls the staff behind her, striking a second one offhandedly.  Quid and Khail converge on these as well, laying about themselves with scimitar and longsword.

A dominated drow joins them moments later, tasked with the protection of Buttercup.  The sheer number of combatants now in the enclosed space turns the battle below into a free-for-all, with fists and weapons flying in every direction.  Dobi bravely tumbles through it all to reach Buttercup, returning him to consciousness with a song.  The pair retreats further into a corner, leaving the scrum to those better suited to handling it.

While copious blood is shed in the pursuit of this goal, Kai faces off against the remaining mage above.  Ten missiles of hers are answered by a lightning bolt of his, but the sorcerer comes out ahead in the end as she wills her foe to change form.  This time the force of her personality crushes his body’s resistance, and the drow is abruptly a fish, flopping in the air as he desperately seeks needed oxygen.

Satisfied, Kai flies off after the retreating quartet of Danek, Andy, Cerridwin, and Lenara.  She overtakes them as her comrades below finish their grisly task, returning the last of the quth-maren below to death.

Trella steps forward once they are gone, marveling at the carnage.  All business, she takes in the group’s status and the tactical situation, noting the way the entry room opens into a chasm before saying, “I’d bet my boots that we’re not going to have much peace here, so we’d better figure out fast what we’re going to do now.”


----------



## htetickrt (May 13, 2004)

The Chasm, Part I​
Danek says nothing other than to murmur the words of a healing spell, leaning heavily against a wall of the cavern as she repairs some of the damage to her body.  She surveys the changes to Lenara and Cerridwin uneasily out of the corners of her eyes as she does so.  For her part, Kai sails down out of the air to land on one of the chairs, pulling her feet under her and leaning wearily back into the cushions.  "Well," she asks the drow, "What can we expect further on?  Is this as defensible a place as we can expect to find for the time being?  We'll eventually need to find places to rest if we don't decide to stop here."

Trella takes up the two potions of cure serious wounds and hands them to Cerridwin and Dobi with the order to "Drink up."  Inspecting the party, she says, "Time for some choices, I suppose.  I am forging ahead 'cause Drow piss me off.  Anyone who wants to leave now should say so now; no one will think less of you.  No one should linger in these caverns, though; it's too risky."

Andy looks very uncomfortable as if she wants to go, but does not want to be the first person to do so. She idly picks through the loot while glancing around for someone to say something first.

Kai is joined by a non-dominated drow, who answers eagerly as soon as his feet touch the ground.  "Finally, a way in which I *want* to help you," he exclaims.  "Through the exit from this post lies a huge web, patrolled and maintained by a gargantuan fiendish spider.  The web connects all of Szith Morcane, but you have to know which strands are not sticky to avoid being captured on your way anywhere.  I can help with that," he says, a bit smugly.

"There are six major areas off of the web, and you're going to have to go through all of them to make sure you've gotten rid of all the invaders.  The closest is the barracks level, which I'd advise cleaning out first.  They watch over the rest of the city, and leaving them there will just make your job more difficult later.  Of course they're on to you, so you'll have to have a plan of some sort to avoid this sort of near-slaughter."  The drow gestures around himself vaguely.

"The second area is the bazaar level, which is pretty much what you'd expect it to be.  It used to be a bustling marketplace back when we still ran the show in what you surface types call Shadowdale, but it's since become more limited in scope.  There are still ways to get things you might need, though I'm sure anyone presently there will want to kill you for the color of your skin.  Tough, that.  There were also rumors about some sort of cult presence here, plus a watchpost for the city's militia.

"The third is the commoner's level.  There shouldn't be too much to do here, as no self-respecting drow would bother with those weaklings and slaves.  I expect that you won't be bothering much either, given our deal....

"The fourth gets far more dangerous.  That one is known as the inverted tower, and is populated by a bunch of insular wizards.  That might have changed since the invasion, but I'd bet that it hasn't much.  There's a lot of power in that place, and I have no idea whose side it's on.  I'd tread carefully there.  Having never entered, I can't provide any help.

"The fifth level housed my house, House Morcane."  The drow noticeably puffs up at this announcement.  "For many centuries we held those halls, only to be driven out by a band of savages.  They slaughtered our priests, converting them into those horrid quth-maren, and transformed many of us noble guards into vampires or worse.  This level will be teeming with undead and their leaders and they will be ready for you.

"The sixth and final level is the fane of Lolth.  It is a deeply holy place, and I doubt that even the enemy has done much with it.  There are rumors of traps to repel the nonbelievers, and I have no doubt that you would be annihilated soon upon entering.

"I have knowledge of the barracks, bazaar, House Morcane, and commoner levels, and can lead you through them, bypassing traps placed there by my people, as long as you maintain our agreement.  The web leading to all these places will have a patrol roughly equivalent to that you just fought, though with a greater emphasis on magic and ranged attacks.  The commoner level houses the exit from the city into the Underdark.  If you desire to enter the city, I would go now, leaving behind any too weak to survive.  If you choose to return tomorrow, you will find your way nearly impassable.  The force at the entry post was all that could be rounded up in the few minutes you gave them.  A day will enable a much more deadly response.  More than this I will tell you when necessary."

Kai cannot restrain an eyeroll at this proclamation, and moves quickly to interrogate telepathically the dominated House Morcane drow.  What she learns echoes that heard aloud, and she is suitably convinced that the other noble guard told the truth.  A brief foray into Raphael's mind indicates a strong belief that to go on would mean a horrible, violent death, and Kai is sure that any more probing risks a new chance for the arcane guard to free himself.

Dobi strokes his chin thoughtfully as the drow speaks, pocketing the potion given to him by Trella while instead curing himself with a spell.  Reluctant to leave a group so apt to provide him with new experiences—and relishing the opportunity to bond further with the enigmatic Calla, he admits to himself—the halfling moves out of the way to wait for his companions’ actions.

Quid, on the other hand, is more forceful.  "I still say we should go back and free the driders. I can probably stone shape open a hole with no problem. They should confuse those damn drow enough until we can regroup. We can rig up some stone walls and alarms and blade barriers and traps to keep them from getting out, and instead let them wreak some havoc. Likely they'll be dispatched in short order, but not before making our lives somewhat easier. Maybe we can send in Dobster to smooth things over with the driders, or maybe not. In any case, Mr. Drow-Person, anywhere down here we can hide while the driders do their thing?  So that we don't risk getting stuck on the wrong side of the breach?  That there is one breach that I'd only like to go unto once."

The free drow looks at Quid like she's crazy.  "Do you have any familiarity with driders at all?  There were three of them holed up above a week ago with a few spiders and no other food.  They're not going to be talking to you. Given that they were walled in by a small handful of drow, they're also not going to be the massive distraction you desire.  I would advise for your own safety that you abandon grandiose notions of cavalry coming to your aid.  I am a member of the noble house of Szith Morcane, and I have seen what these invaders can do.  They will not be cowed by your half-starved drider force.

"If you are not strong enough to take the city, there are places to hide within it, as long as you are watchful.  You can also simply teleport away and then back.  Each moment you rest, however, risks defensive measures being added to prevent your entrance—or your exit."

Quid retorts, "Look Mr. Drow, if the driders can be overcome by just a few of the many drow you expect us to take out, then they should certainly be no problem for us to handle. I still think it would be nice to have someone else setting off ambushes, so that even if the driders don't manage to kill any of them, we can follow them in to clean up, giving us the advantage, or at least evening things up. Normally, I'd say we should hire some townsfolk for that job to send off as cannon fodder (hey, fair economic trade), but since none are available, the driders seem like a decent option."

Kai interjects, "Well, there are those two drow up there rethinking their lives.  It won't take them forever, or their thoughtful mood may wear off.  If you want to sic some driders on those two, Quid, I don't really have an objection, though I still can't think of a way to drive the driders forward once we've made an exit for them. If anybody can, then let's go ahead and do it.  Anyway, we have to take care of them no matter what we decide to do next.  In any case, I think softening up the ambushes would be less of a priority if we take more care to scout out the enemy before each encounter.  If we can prepare spells to account for their number and positions before we close for combat, I think we'll do much better."

Cerridwin looks around silently, trying to determine the mood of the crowd.  Suddenly, he says, with the strength, confidence, and more than a little creepiness, "I'm leaving.  I've died once, changed sex twice, changed race once, I'm randy as hell but can't even keep track of which sex I'm supposed to be attracted to, and I don't even know what's going on.  Is anyone else coming?"

Andy reluctantly puts down the weaponry she was handling.  "Yeah, I'm pretty certain this place will be the death of me."  Turning back to the party she looks defeated.  "Sorry" is all she can offer.  Trella maintains a neutral expression.

Lenara gives one longing glance at Khail before shaking his head sadly and moving to stand with Cerridwin.

Buttercup's eyes stare wildly at his surroundings.  He says, "I don't know what to do.  Part of me wants to fight, but the other part wants to see flowers again.  My brain hurts!"

Rhien approaches the burly half-orc and pats him on the shoulder.  "The two do not have to be mutually exclusive, Buttercup."  At Buttercup's look of incomprehension, the monk amends, "I mean, you can have both at the same time.  If we fail, or even if we succeed but cannot stop all the drow, someone will need to guard against additional drow raids on the surface.  Any of you who want to perform that quite important task can camp near the entrance to the crypts, keeping a watchful eye out for drow.  Of course, none of you should feel required to do this."

Buttercup, however, seems quite pleased with the proposal, jumping up and down to show his enthusiasm.  "I'll do it!" he exclaims, meaning to go as soon as he expends some healing for the group.

Danek, about to heal herself again but equivocating about which of her spells to use in the process, looks up and scowls.  "I'm not going anywhere," she announces belligerently.  "If I start using magic before combat then I can maybe do all right.  I'm not set up to do it today but I can get different spells tomorrow.  If I die and become a mermaid then I'll go defend the entrance," she finishes, while avoiding eye contact with a vengeance.

After a pause following Danek's announcement, Kai carefully ventures to change the subject.  "Well, no matter who comes with us, it sounds like we should either disable the webbing leading to this entry post now so that we can rest, leaving us with the problem of reconnecting it when we're ready to move on and of dealing with it both times under fire from this fiendish spider, or take out the spider now and rest somewhere further on.
Personally, I'd like to know more about this thing before we deal with it.  It's time we stopped walking into combat unprepared."  She directs these last two comments coldly toward the drow.

Trella and Quid move to begin healing, stopping when Buttercup puts up his hands.  "We will heal you.  You should save yours."  Trella nods and, never being one for prolonged goodbyes, wildshapes into a bat in order to scout ahead.  As Dobi moves to stand by Danek, making his decision known, Trella flies off into the darkness beyond Quid's daylight spell.

Buttercup hands his healing wand to Quid as soon as the druid leaves.  Taking one last look around with a slightly sad look in his eyes, the half-orc says, "Good luck," and begins the march back to the surface alongside Andy, Lenara, and Cerridwin.

Quid begins to plan as the party’s sundering is complete, calling the utility of the drow’s information again into question.

The drow responds swiftly, raising both hands, palms out.  "Easy; I didn't ask you to jump into the guard post, now did I?  As for the next area, normally the spider would be there by itself, keeping the web in good shape and such.  It's also usually sufficient to eliminate most small threats, what with its nasty poison and web throwing and such.  Plus it’s of fiendish ancestry, which gives it a leg up, so to speak.  Since you've raised the alarm, I'm sure it will be supported by what we used to call a web team.  Protocol used to have an officer supported by a spellguard and eight sentries.  Then again, there were about seven times more sentries and five times more spellguards than I expected here in the entry post, so it's clear the usurpers don't want to take any chances.  On the plus side, this means battles outside of guard posts should be minimized, as no one will be left off-duty."

Quid queries, "If we do destroy the webbing, how hard would it be to reconstruct?"

The drow replies, "Are you hiding huge spinnerets under your robes, priest?  The spider's webbing is far sterner stuff than you could hope to produce."

"Ah, but is it flammable?"

"Yes, but it is somewhat fire resistant, so the flames would not spread."

"Could the ensuing chasm be crossed with perhaps wall of stone spells or fly or dimension door?"

"Flying would take you anywhere you wanted, assuming it was not dispelled in transit.  Point-to-point transportation magic is certainly an option, but it would require many spells to transport you around.  Walls of stone might bridge a single gap, but would surely be destroyed by the time you returned from a given layer, resulting in the same problems."

Trella returns five minutes after the four party members left, quickly changing back to her own form in order to relay her new information.

Looking at Kai, she reports, "Your drow buddy got the layout right, and you'd have to be one of them to know where you can step without getting stuck.  There's webbing everywhere, and the spider climbing around it is humongous.  The big webs run vertically alongside the near wall of a deep but narrow chasm, connecting this entrance with the six layers he mentioned. They're anchored pretty well to the wall in most places, so they aren't coming loose.  The wall behind them seemed pretty craggy, so it might be climbable too.  Smaller webs connect the two walls of the chasm, which also makes flying difficult.  There're also the web-heads or whatever waiting for us, but they look tougher than drow-boy said.  About eight sentries are climbing along the spine of the web, so that's likely not sticky.  I think it looks sort of ladder-like, so it should be easier to climb.  Ten more, led by what I'm guessing is the commander, wait with ranged weapons inside the closest tunnel entrance.  Five of those damned mages are flying behind the climbing ones, taking care not to move around too much so they don't get caught in the smaller webs.

"Besides the tunnels off the web that drow-boy told us about, I also found a small cavern on the opposite wall of the chasm.  It would require climbing or flying to get to, but I for one don't want to go back.  All that's in there is this freaky deformed drow who was talking to herself the entire time I was there."

The drow interjects, "If she wasn't a drider, then she's probably a fang of Lolth.  They're quite devoted to the Spider Queen, even taking on some of her physical characteristics over time."

Trella snaps back, "That's a great story, ass-face.  Even more reason not to go down there again."

Kai, Quid, and Dobi briefly discuss strategy, coming up with a basic plan after a couple of minutes.  Deciding to give the specifics more thought, Kai turns to the drow and asks as an aside, "While we're thinking, would you mind going up and taking care of those two up top?  I'm sure you'll enjoy the vengeance.  You can keep any items of theirs you'll actually use to help us take your house back for you. As for the rest I'm sure you understand that our use of those items benefits you."  She sends their dominated buddy with them to keep an eye on things.

Turning back to the party:  "One thing that might be really useful is just to send Kyree in there.  You're already flying, Kyree, and you won't get stuck in the existing webs, so you can fly around attacking them from a distance.  I can add an improved invisibility to your protections, which'll help if they're not expecting it.  Then the only thing you'd have to worry about would be new flying webs and poison."

Danek smacks her forehead.  "Buttercup had a wand of neutralize poison!"  She sprints after her erstwhile companions to ask to borrow the wand.

The barbarian passes the three drow warriors, who have drawn their rapiers in preparation for an attack.  Pouncing on the unaware drow, the three are able to score enough holes in his flesh with their rapiers to send the mage spiraling towards death.  The second one, deciding he’s done rethinking his life after the sudden assault, whirls and begins to trigger his wand while taking off.  The four drow come together in a blur of arms and electricity; when they part again, the mage is dead from eight new puncture wounds, but two of the drow have suffered moderate electrical burns across their bodies.  The two non-dominated drow take and quaff two potions of healing, while the dominated one secures two wands of lightning and four scrolls for party use, along with some diamond dust.  They return to Kai shortly afterward, smug in their report of success.

Kai acknowledges them with a weak smile.  When Danek returns with the wand of neutralize poison, the group decides to put Quid’s plan regarding the driders into action, and ascends the pit.  The Waukeenar’s magic easily creates a large hole in the stone wall sealing the drider’s living tomb, and the party makes its way cautiously into the revealed tunnel.  Taking the rear, Trella invokes a new stone wall, this time positioning it so as to block most of the passage back to the surface, leaving just enough room for a medium-sized creature to slip through.

The passage quickly splits off into two, and the group pauses to assess the situation.  Before Kyree can even set himself to listen, however, two ravenously hungry spiders come crawling out of the upper passage, intent on making the party their dinner.

Putting aside impulses to fight, the group retreats behind the wall before the spiders can reach them.  Pausing only slightly at the loss of their meal, the two arachnids climb down the passage to engage the drow on the web.  Wanting to maximize the effect of the attack, Quid quickly leaves the safety of the wall to approach the southern passage.  She is slightly concerned that the driders have not exited on their own, but puts aside that thought until Calla brusquely pushes past her.

“If they’re not exiting, there’s likely a trap. Wait for me to find it.”  The halfling creeps toward the entrance to a cavern, nodding her head slightly as she scans the floors and walls.    She stops before entering and says, “Like I thought.  The floor over here is an illusion, and there’s probably a pit beneath it. Let’s see if I can make that more obvious.”  Calla pokes around on the floor for a short time, causing the illusory wall covering the pit to vanish.  “There you go.  Now let me see what’s inside.”

Relying on her skills and her ring to protect her from detection, Calla creeps into the cavern.  It takes all her self-control to avoid gagging as an acrid, sulfurous odor, likely arising from a pile of filth in the corner of the room, overwhelms her senses.  Two large forms shaped like bloated spiders creep slowly along the walls and ceiling.  Seeing the driders, Calla returns and whispers her findings.  The sound of lightning ripping through the air echoes through the cavern below.

Quid huffs quietly, distressed that the driders haven’t yet come out.  After some thought, Kai directs Rafael to enter the cavern and lead the driders out, while she and her friends hide behind the stone wall.  Unable to fight Kai’s will, Rafael complies.

Upon seeing the drow, both driders immediately cast protective magic on themselves and crawl to higher ground.  Rafael bolts from the room, running down the passage until he reaches the stone wall.  There he stops, waiting for Kai’s instructions after noting that the driders aren’t following him.

Kai sighs and sends him in again, this time with the directive to shoot bolts until they follow.  The drow dutifully obeys, entering the odiferous cavern with his hand crossbow raised.  Before he can fire, however, two lightning bolts fly from the darkness at him.  Only one penetrates his innate resistance, and his retaliatory quarrel scores a minor wound in one of their hides.  Rafael yells, “Dirty abominations!” while exiting the cavern after this.

This time the driders follow, climbing along the walls behind him.  Exiting into the passage, they blast him again with two forked bolts of lightning, though this time neither has an effect.  Rafael leaps down the hole as directed, but this time the driders do not follow.

Seeing this, Kai groans.  “This is getting pointless.  Maybe we should just kill them.”

Quid responds, “I still think they could be useful.  We should try parleying with them.”

Dobi offers, “I can do it, with some support.”  Quid volunteers for that job, and the two approach the cavern again.

As they do so, Dobi speaks loudly, “We have common enemies in the drow.  Surely we can work together, much like Chief Tripod worked with—”

A drider snarls, “Enough!  Your foolish plan is transparent to us.  We will not be used as fodder in an assault on the accursed city.  Anyone who enters our cavern will be slain.”

Dobi turns to Quid and shrugs apologetically.  Before they can do more, the two driders burst out of the cavern with murder on their minds.  One looks at Dobi and ‘suggests,’ “The one next to you is a drow spy.  You should attack her!”  The other blasts the pair with a bolt of lightning.

Dobi fights off the magical compulsion and avoids all damage from the lightning; Quid is almost as lucky, suffering only a glancing blow [7 hp].  The noise draws the rest of the group, who file in as Quid and Dobi counterattack.  Quid slices and pounds the uninjured drow with scimitar and nunchaku.  Dobi finishes it off with two flanking attacks.

The remaining drider attempts to drop a shroud of darkness upon the combat as it retreats along the ceiling.  The magic is overwhelmed by the bright light from Quid’s rock, and a volley of arrows from Kyree sends the hapless aberration flying into the opposite wall, quite dead.

A quick glance around reveals shiny materials in the dung heap.  Khail takes one for the team, banking on his immunity to disease to protect him from whatever pathogens reside in the filth.  A little digging and a bit of scrubbing produces a nice heap of gold and minor magic to add to the party loot.

Not wanting to waste any more time outside of the city, Trella leads the party quickly back through the tunnels and into the entry post.  No sign of the spiders or of combat is present there, indicating at least that the former made it to the chasm.  Recognizing that a large battle is imminent, the party sets about casting its preparatory magic.  As an air elemental appears to do Quid’s bidding, the group prepares to engage.

_To be continued…_


----------



## htetickrt (May 19, 2004)

The Chasm, Part II​
Emboldened by his numerous protections, Kyree flies invisibly into the chasm.  His sharp eyes pick out the clear form of an evoker, ringed in mystic flames, and he does not hesitate in firing off a barrage of arrows.

Trella observes the minimal impact of her companion’s opening volley as she crawls by along the walls, charging straight at the fiendish arachnid.  Aided by the magic of her armor, her first blow is a powerful one, shattering a portion of the spider’s exoskeleton.  Roused from its torpor, its multifaceted eyes focus on the druid with ire.

Kai is the next arrival, flying in slowly since she lacks the ability of the two elves to see in the dim light Quid’s stone provides.  The sorceress targets the nearest blurry blobs in a dispelling field, and hopes for the best.

Calla smirks as she watches the visible effects of Kai’s magic.  Remaining within the entry post, she flicks her dagger at the nearest sentry.  Though the wound it causes is minimal, the enjoyment she receives from causing a drow pain is not.  Rhien spares a moment to ponder on her past as he streaks by to engage the spider alongside Trella.  Dobi’s thoughts on the matter are different, and a little disturbing, which is perhaps why he fails to activate the wand of lightning that he clutches tightly in his hand.

Danek, hanging back, tries to maintain detached as she watches her comrade’s actions, focusing instead on the smooth feel of her longbow as she readies an arrow and prepares to fire.  Her efforts are rewarded as she scores a hit on the injured mage, but her concentration is subsequently shattered by the overwhelming desire to gloat to the nearby Dobi.  She gives in to the largely wasted gesture, and her thoughts return to their usual turmoil.

Not entirely surprised by the group’s arrival, the drow guards are quick to respond with a hail of projectiles both magical and mundane.  Kai is their primary target, and she cannot suppress a grimace as her vision is temporarily obscured by the swarm of poison-tipped arrows flying at her.  Thankfully her defensive measures hold, and only two draw blood.  Her impressive constitution deals with the somnolescence these threaten.

Meanwhile, the spider backs away from its tormentors, attempting to ensnare Rhien in its webs.  The nimble monk avoids these, but neither he nor his friends can do the same when the evokers mimic Kai’s trick.  At their command, Trella, Rhien, and Kyree fall from their perches to end up stuck in the webbing many feet below.  Kai, saved from that fate by luck, nevertheless curses the loss of her protective shield.

Quid, Khail, and a summoned air elemental arrive as the cavalry du jour.  The latter’s whirlwind obscures a drow mage’s vision; Quid’s bladed version of the same rips through the webbing surrounding the structure’s spine like dry parchment, sending seven sentries—one in pieces—to join the fallen Stepchildren in the land of the entangled.  Khail adds a mage’s body to the carnage with some well-placed arrows from his rarely-used bow.

Kyree harrumphs, frees his hands, and buries three arrows into second spellguard.  The impressive feat goes largely unnoticed, thanks to his invisibility.  He harrumphs again when Trella covers the region with frigid hail, obliterating any evidence of his arrows, along with a good bit of drow flesh.

Kai renews her magic, opting not to become an attractive pincushion.  Calla continues to leave acid-filled wounds in various sentries while cackling near-insanely.  Dobi, distressingly aroused by the display, gets the wand of lightning to work, and shoots Danek a look of his own as three of the drow sizzle and die.  Flustered, the barbarian misses with a pair of arrows.

Angry drow target Kai with webs and arrows, but the sorceress proves elusive.  She is less so to the unimaginative castings of the spellguards, who blister the Stepchildren with ice and lightning, much as their deceased comrades in the entry post did before them.  The party’s collective scream makes the drow a bit giddy.

Kyree attempts to share a meaningful, “surface elves against the drow” sort of look with Trella, but is foiled by his continued invisibility.  Trella is too far gone to have seen it anyway, nearly frothing in rage as she summons a column of flames down upon the spellguards.  This, coupled with Kyree’s arrows, is sufficient to slay three outright.

Kai, dazed from the beating she recently took, half-heartedly wills the last into a fish.  As he flops around, gasping for air, the sorceress removes herself to the rear of the battle with a single word.  There she gets a firsthand glimpse of the brewing dementia that is Calla, watching as the halfling slays a sentry with her returning dagger, cackling the entire time.

She also becomes a spectator in the childish game Dobi and Danek are playing.  The former extends his imaginary lead by getting the wand to fire again, but loses it to the barbarian when her arrow slays a sentry but the lightning does nothing to the resistant dark elves.

With the number of nearby visible enemies having decreased, the remaining drow focus on the pair of Trella and Rhien.  The druid and monk suffer a spider bite and a barrage of arrows, but immunity to poison goes a long way to minimizing their impact.  Nevertheless, Kyree continues to fight for “elf power,” taking two sentries right between their eyes with a pair of arrows.

The drow officer backs away from the mouth of the passage leading into the barracks, allowing Trella, Rhien, Kai, and Calla concentrate on the spider.  A round of their combined attacks is enough to send the arachnid scurrying into a corner to lick its wounds.

The twang of many bows draws Rhien’s attention in time to flick away one arrow destined for his throat, but the monk cannot stop an additional five from embedding themselves into him and Trella.  The druid, now looking a bit like a porcupine, snarls and warps the stone under the sentries’ feet into deadly—though hidden—spikes with a prayer.

The battle moves fully to the passage off of the web now, as Quid’s summoned elemental bursts into it flailing airy pseudopods, and Khail begins climbing the web’s spine to meet it.  The Waukeenar nods, satisfied, while eliminating all of Kai’s wounds.

Kyree remains where he is and drops yet another sentry with more arrows; a healthy Kai flits down near him and triggers a wand twice to send lightning arcing across the passage.

Rhien frees Trella from the webbing entangling her so that she can join the mad rush out of the chasm.  Noting this, the officer calls for a fighting retreat into a room deeper within Szith Morcane.  Though he finds himself unharmed by virtue of his resistant nature, the rank and file is not so lucky.  Two collapse to the earth, bleeding from their torn feet, and all but one of the rest are forced to halt before they join their unfortunate comrades. With violence in their eyes, the party goes to meet them.

_To be continued…_


----------



## htetickrt (Jun 3, 2004)

The Barracks​
Trella turns her head toward Rhien as she holds tightly to the wall.  “Can you free Kyree?”

“Yes.”

“Good; I’m tired of hanging out here.”  The druid effects a startling transformation, suddenly inhabiting the mottled hide of a large spider as she makes her way to the passage, pausing only to dismiss the spike stones.

Kyree sighs as he waits, idly peppering the fiendish arachnid with arrows to pass the time.  It hisses at him and retreats further.

Kai stares into the passageway with death in her emerald eyes.  After firing off a charge from her wand of lightning to warm things up, she begins drawing on the essence of the weave to increase the potency of her magic.  A second later a superheated pebble springs from her outstretched hands, flying outward to impact something in the darkness.  Judging by the screams this elicits from the normally stoic drow, her fireball was right on target.

Calla’s breath quickens at the sound, and she frustratedly paws at the webbing near her, waiting for Khail to descend so she can have her chance at the dark elves before their voices grow hoarse.  Am impatient flick of her wrist sends her dagger off to shatter an eye of the fiendish spider while doing so; Rhien is forced to dodge this as he scampers down the stone wall toward Kyree.  Upon reaching the elf, the monk slips between spaces with the archer in tow.  An instant later the pair is standing in front of Kai in the mouth of the passage before her.  Arrows assail the two visible from further inside the city, but the minor injuries do not halt their approach.

The passage becomes crowded with the addition of more of the large band, a situation ameliorated a few seconds later as all visible sentries are sent to their deaths upon the cold stone via a combination of arrow, blade, and bite.  For good measure, Kai finally slays the maker of the web with a volley of missiles, ending the threat from the rear.

Szith Morcane’s first line of defense is not yet beaten, however, and the drow manifest their superior vision in the darkness by peppering the massed group with ice and projectiles.  Thanks to better luck than they are used to, only Dobi falls due to the combination.

Quid cries, “Dobster!” and is at his side in a flash, converting one curative spell into another on the fly to heal the majority of his wounds.  Khail stops by her side only long enough to scoop up her daylight stone, and then he is off at a run down the passage.  Expecting to meet only a few blinded drow, the paladin is dismayed to see four quth-maren standing before nearly a score of archers, their double-bladed-sword-wielding commanders, and a pair of mages assuredly protected by numerous pre-cast magics.  All sport a thin layer of black cloth over their eyes, well-prepared for the party’s new favorite tactic.

Khail conveys this tactical data with the ever-popular “Drow!  Charge!” and the party obeys.  Out of the chaos of fired arrows and swung swords, Rhien tumbles through the line of sentries to stun a mage with a blow to the sternum.  He is rewarded by the attention of the two officers, who close to melee with him.  The leering black skulls on their white tabards stare balefully at the monk as their wearers twirl their exotic swords in displays of cocksure skill.  Rhien ducks and weaves amongst the strikes, but he cannot prevent his blood from staining their blades.

Being further away, his friends primarily suffer the impact of ranged assaults, and Danek crumples to the ground after being struck by five arrows.  Dobi snatches the party’s curing wand from Quid’s belt and bravely runs to Danek’s aid, closing a couple of the more prominent wounds on her body.  The barbarian gasps back to consciousness, dimly aware through her rage-addled mind that she will not last long once her anger subsides.

Khail, dripping with spat acid yet again, lays about himself with great hacks of his longsword.  Caustic blood spatters around him as one of the undead falls; standing invisibly behind him, Kyree calmly drops a mage with far less overt effort.

Trella takes in the party’s health—or lack thereof—grimly, and decides to do something about it.  Invoking her staff, she summons a wall of thorns that blankets the entire area between the three remaining quth-maren and the sentries’ carefully formed double line of archers.  With no opportunity to move, all twenty of the foes are captured within its tough brambles, and eight of the badly-burned sentries are instantly slain.

As his friends move to take potshots from around the wall, Rhien makes the difficult decision to back off.  Luckily, the combination of a parting kick and five force missiles from Kai is enough to take down the final mage.

The two officers advance on said sorceress, but their blades are no more successful at hitting her than the twenty arrows that litter the floor around her previous position.

Khail—after being spat upon further—advances with his elven comrade, and the two manage nearly to end the undead threat.  Trella steps forward as well, a cruel glint in her eyes.  A moment’s gesture ignites a wall of fire directly on top of the thorns, and she watches with satisfaction as those sentries who cannot escape are both burned and torn unto death.

Incensed, the two officers respond, rounding the wall in a fury of whirling steel.  One slices Rhien from neck to hip, nearly killing him; the other steps over the body to deliver similar punishment to Khail.

Their pleasure from this is short-lived.  Dobi continues his tumbling act, restoring Rhien to consciousness, and Quid does the same for Khail, though in a more dignified manner.  This marks the effective end of the officers’ resistance, as Khail’s arrows and Calla’s well-placed dagger ensure that neither survives to author another deadly strike.  Once Quid fells the final quth-maren, the battle is over.  Knowing that this is only the beginning, the group hurriedly gets to healing, while some split off to loot the fallen.

Calla looks around brusquely as the party begins its grisly search, pausing only for the priests and Dobi to heal.  “I’m going to scout ahead to see if we’re alone on this floor, and maybe make sure we can avoid some of the traps that you all will likely step into otherwise.”

Trella looks up from her tasks.  “Too dangerous.  You shouldn’t go alone.”

Calla shrugs.  “Okay, I’ll take the invisible elf.  He should be sufficient backup.”

Kyree makes a face that goes completely unseen by the others.  He accepts healing from Trella before moving off behind Calla out of the guardpost.  Quid nods her appreciation before her mercenary nature reasserts itself.  After expending her magic, she activates a granted power to vulture the most valuable items off of the bodies of those drow still caught in the webs outside.

Meanwhile, the stealthy duo pad down the hallway without making a sound.  They return several minutes later, with Calla exhibiting several new puncture wounds.  She holds a letter out before her, and looks decidedly displeased.

Trella looks up from her looting.  “What happened to you?  More drow?”

Calla grimaces.  “No.”

Trella pauses, waiting for the strange halfling to elaborate, but grows impatient after Calla only picks at a wound.  “So, what happened?” the druid asks more forcefully.

“There was a trap.  Several, actually.  I missed one.  A salamander appeared.  We killed it.  It speared me a bunch first.  Okay?”

Trella wisely chooses to let this go.  “What did you find?”

“Empty cells, empty barracks, and officers’ quarters with some of the drow scum’s possessions.”  Calla dumps a small pile of goods on the floor; Quid immediately rummages through them looking for items of interest.

“I also found this letter in the officers’ quarters.  There doesn’t appear to be an exit from or entrance to this level other than the way we came in, and I couldn’t find any other drow either.  Too bad.”

Trella takes the letter from Calla and reads it aloud, haltingly at times as she tries to understand the dialect:

“Indrizil:
	Word has probably reached you about the fall of Maerimydra, and perhaps you have wondered about my safety.  Obviously, I survived the sack of the city, although it was a close call indeed.  The city fell at the hands of mere chattel—the priestesses of the Spider Queen had kept the city so cowed that, with their power gone, its defenders could not resist even a force of goblins, ogres, and giants.  We held our strong places for a time without the clerics, but then House Chumavh was overthrown from within, and so we were undone.
	I write to you now from Szith Morcane, the old outpost north and west of the city.  Perhaps you will come visit me—though I must say if you still profess faith in Lolth you will not be welcomed by those who rule here now.  The spider Queen’s priestesses have found a new role here, which I do not think you would enjoy very much.
	I do not know if you still cling to the hope that the Spider Queen will restore you—will restore all of us—to her favor, but if you do, I urge you to reconsider.  The Lady of the Dead will accept you still, just as she has taken me into her care.  All Maerimydra is her temple now, and her emissaries rule here too.  Abandon your empty allegiance to a silent goddess and come to Szith Morcane, but do not wear the emblem of the spider.  I have need of allies of my own blood, and if Lolth still ignores your pleas, I suspect you do as well.
			--Rhavauz”

Raphael, who arrived earlier with the rest of the drow contingent per Kai’s orders, smiles at the note; the other three frown.  Rhien offers, “I suggest we take anything else we want from this pile and decide quickly on our next move.  Our healing and magic are all but exhausted for the day, and I doubt we could survive another such attack as we are now.”

A non-dominated drow that Kai has decided to call Michelangelo snarks, “What, you want to leave already?”


----------



## Jeremy (Jun 3, 2004)

Enjoying the mass combat of this one.  And the snide comments.


----------



## htetickrt (Jun 8, 2004)

Jeremy said:
			
		

> Enjoying the mass combat of this one.  And the snide comments.




My first non-PC commentator!  Thanks!

I'll try to keep up the comments, but I'm afraid the mass combat is going to get somewhat less mass in the near future, as half the party bites it in the next few installments.  Can you guess who?

Anyway, my response to that is:  Phew.  Running those things took hours, and I think things run better when each person is running one character.  Although, when the (smaller) party decides to take on Castle Maerimydra en masse, a few more PCs wouldn't make a difference.  But that's a ways away.


----------



## htetickrt (Jun 9, 2004)

Nocturnal Visitation​
Kai’s eyes narrow dangerously as the letter falls slowly to the ground.  "Silent goddess?  You all pissed off Lolth and that's the reason you've been kicked out of your home?  You're not telling us everything.  What's this Maerimydra place?  Is Lolth not talking to anyone, or is it just you people?"

Michelangelo glares at Kai.  "Watch yourself, female."

Raphael gleefully relates to the group that Maerimydra is a great drow city in the Underdark, only a few days’ travel from Szith Morcane, and that the latter is an outpost for the former.  “The city used to be run by the rothe-like followers of ‘She who holds no more power here,’ but without her accursed influence the priests were unable to hold the city against ogre, giant, and goblin rabble.”

After the other dominated drow holds back Michelangelo, the angry fighter says coldly, "And demons, fool.  Don't forget the demons.  And the betrayal.  It was not your foolish cult that felled the city."

"You weren't even there; you were high born only of a colony."

Michelangelo’s eyes shine coldly in the brightly lit room.

Snicker, relieved to be out of danger for the time being, breaks the tension by flying happily over to the pile of loot to curl up atop it, adopting the pose of a much larger dragon upon his hoard.  Quickly growing bored with that, he burrows snout first through the pile, coins falling around him like fallen leaves.  Eventually he emerges with a rapier in his mouth, feinting with it toward Rhien as best he can.  Kai coos words of praise at every opportunity.  Eyeing two pairs of slippers of spider climbing speculatively, she offers, “What do you think?  Do these go with Steve’ coat?  They’ll certainly help him descend the web.”

Quid chuckles.  “I like it.  Pink is very in on the surface.  Maybe we could put some ribbon on one of the drow symbols to add to his ensemble.”

Khail is not amused.  “I am not amused.”

Kai giggles.  “Aw, you’re never any fun.  Anyone up for going back to sell some of this stuff?”

Quid nods.  “’Twould be a shame if something should happen and the loot weren't properly recapitalized.”

Trella harrumphs, “Good shopping.  We’ll be here in a defensible room until you get back.”

Kai turns back to Raphael.  “So, you have demons working for you?”

"That army was not allied with our forces.  We do have demons in our service, as any self-respecting drow house would, but we cannot claim an army of demons.  Undead, on the other hand, send our enemies fleeing in mindless terror!"  Raphael seems truly proud of this.  Michelangelo gags.

Kai agrees and pushes for more.  "With such a potent force as the quth-maren, you could surely take over wherever you wish.  What's your interest in this sorry outpost?"  She cuts off Michelangelo’s retort with a hard look.  "And why not also take the town of Daggerdale, rather than settling for harassing the outlying farms?"

Raphael looks confused; it seems that the questioning is reaching the end of his knowledge.  Nevertheless, he makes an attempt to answer.  "Eventually the White Banshee will hold sway over all your surface lands, and this outpost will be provide a path to do so.  For now we are commanded only to spread fear and chaos, for these are pleasing to her."

"Does she have priests?  We have not seen any."

Rhien coughs delicately.  Kai snaps semi-playfully, "Okay, then, just the one."

Raphael adds, "Only the most holy drow females can aspire to such grace."  Michelangelo mimes retching.

Reaching a dead-end, she asks him flat out (after praising his knowledge) what is in the inverted tower level of this city.

He responds, "Mages.  The tower houses the center for the study and practice of magic in the outpost.  It's changed little since the heathens held it.  The archmage and his apprentices are too self-absorbed to come to the outpost’s aid."

Michelango adds, "For once I can't disagree with him."

Kai runs a hand through her hair.  "If the mages were so self-absorbed as not to care when the city changed hands, I'm guessing they haven't had much to do with any petty raids."

Raphael shakes his head negatively.  "I think I gave you an incorrect impression earlier.  Despite their self-absorption, the mages do wield great power, and do take part in the affairs of the outpost, whenever it suits them.  They defend the outpost only when they perceive a real threat, and give just enough help to the ruling group to keep it off their backs.  I myself once aspired to be one, before realizing that I was too good a warrior to ignore my spiked chain for dusty old tomes.  I and a few others like me—but lesser—got placed guarding the twins, Velasta and Velina—you met the latter briefly—while a few others stay to guard the inverted tower."  In response to Kai's silent question, Raphael answers, "It's called that because it gets wider as it goes up."

Kai's eyes suddenly widen in horror as questioning Raphael telepathically appears to remind her something.  "Um, so," she begins as casually as possible, trying to keep the drow in a loquacious mood, "Do hunter-killer teams come from the, um, the tower?"

Raphael responds happily, "They're gathered from all over the outpost."

"That sure must be something.  It sounds like quite a force." 

Raphael nods.  Prompted telepathically, he looks disturbed for a moment, seemingly fighting Kai's hold over him.  His shoulders slump after failing to get free.  "It varies, but usually such teams are built from a high-ranking priest, a powerful warrior, and a strong mage, supported by whatever is available.  I'm sure anyone left alive from the earlier raiding party will want another crack at you as well.  We consider retribution to be a virtue."

Kai sighs deeply and turns to the others.  "So, they'll send this hunter-killer team after us once we are 'weakened or sleeping,' I believe the terms were.  If we plan on spending the night down here, we'll need to be ready for this attack.  If we leave, we need to take our four friends off their door-guarding duty while we're gone, or they'll be sitting ducks.  We may want to send them back to Dagger Falls even if we stay, to prevent their being targeted out of sheer cruelty.  I guess I lean toward taking the risk of staying here, but we'll need to be prepared for an attack.  Ideally we should set alarms far enough away that we could get up and cast preparatory magic before the attack."

Quid doesn’t like the plan, but agrees to it.  She withdraws an enchanted stone from her pack, instructing the group to affix it to a door so as to provide at least some warning of an intrusion.  Khail leaves with the slippers to retrieve Steve and instruct the four people above to withdraw and hide.  Kyree and Rhien help Kai gather the goods together before she and Quid teleport away.

Khail returns walking Steve—who is forced to lower his head as he traverses the passageways—about thirty minutes later.  Once he is back, he and Trella enter the kitchen, guide the rest of the group inside, and finish creating a workable construct of shattered table pieces and chairs to block the door.  Then the group sits down to wait, napping whenever possible.

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

A figure indistinguishable from the deepest shadow slams his mailed fist upon the magically hardened mushroom he uses for a table.  “They depopulated the barracks to the last drow!” he thunders.  “Something must be done!”

“Do not forget your place, brother,” a pair of eyes hiss from an area darker still.  The accent on the last word causes even the hardened warrior to recoil slightly.

“I have never,” the drow whispers, a hint of remembered pain coloring his tone.

“Good.  They will be dealt with tonight.  You will see to it personally.  Take our cousins, and do not fail me.”

The blackened gauntlet grasps an evil-looking double-ended flail.  “Have I ever?”

“See that you do not start now.  I want no survivors.  Mother’s work must not be interrupted.”

Boots echo across the level as the tall drow exits the chamber.  He is not pleased.

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

The rest of the day passes slowly, though without any hint of a retaliatory attack.  Whether this is because the outpost is too weak to respond or the drow are simply waiting for an optimal time is anyone’s guess.  Near dinner, Kai and Quid return.  Tired from a day’s worth of walking and bartering, the pair quickly takes up positions on the floor while others distribute the purchases.

Quid instructs Dobi to set the stone of alarm on the door, before she begins to pray.  An hour later Trella takes over for her, offering her own thoughts to Silvanus.  After this, and a small dinner, the party prepares to turn in.

As she unties her bedroll, Kai jerks to attention.  “We’re being scried upon,” she declares.

Trella shrugs and sits down to her watch.  “Let them come.  We’re ready.”  Not everyone shares her confidence.

Several hours pass, and Rhien takes over for the druid with a smile.  When Kyree relieves him two hours later, the daylong quiet has become almost eerie.

Midnight comes, and the archer looks forward to communing with Solonor Thelandira, pleased at the progression of his own faith over the past year.  Such introspection is insufficient to cloud the elf’s sharp senses, however, and he clearly picks out the clomp of boots on stone relatively close by.  Waking the rest of the group as quickly as he can manage, Kyree estimates there could be a dozen enemies closing in on the party’s position, and conveys this worrisome news to his comrades.

As all wipe the sleep from their eyes, there is a sudden pounding on the door.  The wood holds for the time being, but acid from the fists of the undead pounding on it is already eating through, and will render the barricade moot within seconds.  Kyree draws his bow and says ominously, “It appears the hunter-killer team has arrived.”

_To Be Continued...._


----------



## Jeremy (Jun 9, 2004)

I love it when you get to see what the bad guys are up to.


----------



## htetickrt (Jun 18, 2004)

The Hunter-Killer Team​
“My feet hurt,” Lenara whines for what must be the tenth time.  “Are we almost to the surface?”

Cerridwin eyes him provocatively.  “I could carry you.”  Every expression the satyr makes comes out as a leer.

Lenara coughs delicately and demurs.  It is clear he preferred the bard’s old form.  Cerridwin sulks.

Buttercup offers, “I hope we can find some flowers in bloom.  They’re pretty.”

Andy sashays her way up the final incline.  “We’re almost out.”  Left unsaid is her uncertainty over the rectitude of this course of action.  She covers it up with a series of inane questions to the cleric as to the possibility of procuring a plant-based dye capable of painting her nails crimson.

“The sun is out.  That’s good for the flowers.”  Buttercup beams generally at the surroundings, while a more practical side of his personality takes charge of his body and sets up camp.  Both aspects blissfully ignore the disgustingly graphic analysis of their new genders that occupy the next half-hour of his comrades’ time.

The discussion comes to a halt when Khail pokes his head out of the double-doors leading to the crypt.  Lenara swoons as he passes on news of the victory in the barracks and the imminent arrival of the hunter-killer team, ending with the strong caution to leave for Dagger Falls immediately.

“But…” Andy interjects.

“No buts, Andy.  You have to trust me.”

“Yours is magnificent,” Lenara mutters.

“What?” Khail asks, surprised.

“Nothing.  We’ll go.”  Lenara blushes and shuffles off; Buttercup and the others follow after breaking down their campsite.

They get halfway to Dagger Falls before Andy stops dead in her tracks.  “Would you guys be totally upset if I, uh, wanted to go back?”

Buttercup exclaims, "You want to go back?  Me too!"

Andy nods.  "I do.  I…I don't feel right abandoning them like that.  I don't like feeling like a coward.  I'd rather die down there than live on the surface with a bunch of strangers.  Besides, I doubt these drow will just let us walk away without a fight, and we have a better chance of survival with those really powerful people than we do alone."

Lenara looks down at the ground with divided loyalties.  "If Cerridwin does not want to go back, I'll have to accompany him.  I won't let him go it alone.  That's not right either."

Buttercup looks torn.  "Want to stay, want to make sure friends make it out okay.  My head hurts!"

Andy looks at Cerridwin for an answer.

For an answer, Cerridwin looks Andy up and down lasciviously.

Andy gulps inwardly and takes one for the team.  Her awkward come on is met with enthusiasm, and soon halfling and satyr are coupled in a manner that sends Lenara and Buttercup fleeing headlong into a nearby grove, emerging only when they are absolutely sure that the mismatched pair is finished with their exertions.  They repeat these actions during the extended dinner break that Cerridwin’s urges necessitate, and are almost relieved when they find themselves again descending into the drow stronghold.

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

Dobi slips behind Danek and whistles a six-second tune.  Ignored by all else present, it slides smoothly into the barbarian’s subconscious, spurring on all that could be great within her.  Smiling slightly, she quaffs a potion in a single gulp, glancing at the preparations of her companions through the lens of the empty flask.  Rage begins to overtake her as she spies the four drow accompanying the group, thinking upon their predations, and her grip on her blade’s pommel tightens.  _Let them come.  They will only meet their deaths._

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

“Break it down!” the stout priestess shrieks shrilly.

“Patience sister,” Velasta coos.  “The quth-maren will be upon them soon enough.”

Velina spins on her twin, but stifles her reply as the door sunders, revealing a wooden barricade made from destroyed furniture.   “Destroy them!” she cries.

A sphere of fire manifests atop the undead, and spikes arise below them, but they are unharmed.  Zedarr takes this as a good sign, loosening his grip on the unholy dire flail he wields so expertly.  _Perhaps I will get my choice of playthings before they are all dead.  The elves look to be screamers…._

His dark musings are broken by the shattering of the barricade.  Quid is ready for this, and she brandishes her holy symbol boldly while calling for the quth-maren to flee to the land of the paupers and the pound-foolish.  One is apparently frightened by this tirade and obeys, leaving five more in the now-open doorway.

Khail and the four Renaissance drow take arms to these with force and finesse, and two fall under their determined assault.  Leonardo’s shout of success, however, vanishes under the veil of silence that suddenly descends.

Zedarr’s expression is indeterminate, but the quickening whirling of his dire flail signals his growing excitement at the prospect of imminent violence.  Beside him what appears to be a rust-red displacer beast paws the ground with four of its six legs.  Rhien tumbles past both, as well as the undead in front of them, on his way to the well-shielded Velina, hoping to duplicate his earlier success against her, but the monk is unable to make contact.

Before anyone else can move, Zedarr pounces like the tiger his companion superficially resembles.  Ignoring both the spike stones and the flaming sphere as if they were orisons cast by a neophyte druid, the drow traverses the five feet to Khail's position with fearsome intent.  The quth-maren shy away at his approach.  His first blow is aimed unerringly at Khail's blade, with the clear motive of sundering the weapon whose holiness hurts him worse than any knife.  As the flail passes right through the sword without effect, Zedarr pauses, nonplussed.  _What manner of sorcery is this?_  Lacking some of his earlier confidence, the blackguard’s further swings manage only minimal damage to his opposite.

Kyree lifts off the ground, so as to be able to fire on Zedarr without giving him the benefit of Khail as cover.  His first shot activates earlier cast magic, and the arrow finds a chink in the drow's heavy armor, driving deep into his chest.  Two more arrows hit an instant later, though with substantially less effect.  The blackguard swivels his gaze to face the flying ranger, thankful that the cursed elf cannot see the grimace he fails to stifle.  The acid-laced dagger that exacerbates the grievous chest wound does not improve his mood.

_The Abyss take these fools!_ snarls the drow internally as he watches Kai, Trella, and Quid extract themselves from the silence radius with merely a thought.  Then, with less fervor:  _Who are they?_

The teleporting spellcasters are greeted by a lightning bolt from a now-visible drow arrayed as Raphael is; Snicker points out a plumper robed figure standing invisibly on the opposite side of Kai.  Trella activates the most powerful ability of her potent staff, and floods the room with five large elementals of purest earth.  On her command, they fan out and pummel drow with rocky fists.  Khail and Danek tussle with Zedarr’s pet.

The rotund invisible drow speaks words backed by the power of the Shadow Weave: “It’s late and you’re all tired. Wouldn’t a long nap be nice?”  All in the hallway save Snicker and the elementals collapse gently to the ground, the druid’s snores audible before her head comes to rest.  The brave pseudodragon takes wing, hovering over Kai in defense.

The mage’s second trick is not aimed at her, however; he summons shades of maurezhi to devour Danek from the inside.  Only her potent constitution protects the paralyzed barbarian from a sudden demise.  She shakes off the effect, but cannot so easily dismiss her gnawing fear that the collapse of half the group signals her own imminent demise.

In contrast, Zedarr’s confidence grows with the gentle thumps he hears behind him.  His subsequent words, though, are lost to magical silence, and it is doubtful that the stoic Khail would be impressed even if he had been able to hear them.  As the blackguard readies his flail to strike, the paladin raises his own weapon, and then brings it sweeping down towards his foe’s neck.  The few seconds Zedarr maintains his sentience while his head bounces along the stone floor are spent wondering if his mother would recall him despite his failure, and if his sister would gloat in that case.  _I will have my vengeance on her as well_, he thinks, and then he is dead.

The fiendish displacer beast unleashes a hideous scream at his master’s passing, and does not grow quieter while being scored by the blades of both paladin and drow subsequent to this.  Spared from this but still furious over having her life imperiled, Danek opens new wounds across the beast’s blood-stained fur.

In disbelief at Zedarr’s sudden beheading, the twins resolve to deliver a retribution befitting such a crime.  A storm of flames is invoked to envelop all enemies save Quid and Kai, and the nimble Kyree—who avoided all damage entirely from the fire with a smart tumble—barely avoids having his life snuffed out on the business end of a ray of destruction.  For good measure, their servitor undead spit sticky globs of acid at Khail’s face.

Kyree wipes the blood from his mouth and coldly targets his would-be killer for his next volley.  Four arrows thunk solidly into Velasta’s arms and chest despite her numerous protections.  Slowly, so that she can read his lips, the elf mouths, “Can’t handle a little retribution?” in his native tongue.  Velasta’s eyes go black.  Calla, having no desire to get in the middle of this feud, tosses a dagger at the beast from her hiding place.

Snicker is a flurry of tooth and tail as he tries to wake up both Kai and Quid with minor violence, after seeing how the firestorm shocked Trella and Rhien out of their slumber.  He manages to strike only the former, but she groans and begins to rise.

Thoughts of fleeing pass across the arcane guard's face, but one look at the dual priestesses banishes them with a shudder.  Turning back to Trella, he unleashes a volley of three mystic missiles at the druid.  She ignores him, shouts “Bite my staff!” and speaks brief words of magic while pointing in the general direction in which she expects the plump mage to be.

Suddenly limned in pale green, the mage likes his chances far less well.  Rhien—who stands mere feet from him—becomes the target of a suggestion to “Go check on your friends up above.”  When the monk fails to obey, the drow decides he’ll take his chances with the local powers-that-be and teleports away from the battle.

Khail presses his attack on the displacer beast, looking to clear a path to the priests.  His first swings fell the fiendish creature despite its light-warping aura, allowing the paladin to cleave through its dying body and land additional blows on the nearest undead.  The latter endeavor is aided by the continued assault of the Renaissance drow, who manage to poke numerous holes in the quth-maren with their rapiers.

Furious at both the party’s temerity and the desertion of their comrade, the twin priests react with blind fury.  Velasta chugs a potion, and then unleashes another firestorm to match her sister's, this time including even the sleepers in its area of effect.  Donatello and Raphael die instantly from the blaze.  Kyree, Dobi, Rhien, and Calla avoid injury, but the others all are seriously burned by the conflagration.  Poor Snicker crumples to the ground, his bright scales scorched into dullness.

Not to be outdone, Velina calls down unholy fire upon those in the room, looking to end their threat before it reaches her.  Leonardo joins his comrades in instant death, while Michelangelo collapses with his life force ebbing away.  Kyree and Calla again spin away, but Dobi finds his leg caught on a piece of broken chair and cannot escape.  His final scream of anguish doesn’t register within the eerily quiet charnel house of a room, but the blackened husk of his body as it collapses upon striking the earth conveys the emotion well enough to the shocked onlookers.

Danek starts at the scene, nursing her own burns, but has little time to contemplate its emotional impact.  Fists weeping acid rain down on her head, and she feels her mortality urgently just before consciousness leaves her.  Steve whinnies and takes her place; the mighty warhorse’s hooves shatter a quth-maren’s ribcage and send it back to death.

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

The anguished sounds of combat reach the smaller band even as far as the main chasm, and its members pick up their pace.  Moving slowly across a grisly carpet of drow corpses and spilt blood, the four ready their weapons for whatever lies ahead.  Cerridwin spots its leading edge a moment later: a lone quth-maren, fleeing from whatever ghosts could scare the unliving.  He gulps and begins speaking words of magic.  _I really hope I don’t turn into a cow.  I’m so sick of cows._

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

Something in Calla snaps at Dobi’s death, and she rolls into the center of the scorched room, dagger flying toward Velasta.  Unfortunately, this proves no more effective than Rhien’s fists, and only Kyree’s arrows connect with the stout drow priestess.  Her answering glare makes it obvious who the next target of her magic will be.

Or rather, would have been, had she survived long enough to cast it.  Trella’s elementals, which thus far have not had much of an impact, surround Velasta and pummel her with their club-like arms.  Only one penetrates her defenses, but it is enough to crush her skull like a walnut.

Velina fights off two disintegration rays from Kai, as well as the other two elementals, while watching her sister’s now-headless body fall.  If she feels any sorrow, it is well hidden.  She begins yet another prayer, this one designed to slay its target.

Trella barely sees the blood dripping from Khail’s numerous wounds through a haze of fire.  Realizing that the paladin is the best chance to stop Velina from casting another spell, and that the party—her party—cannot afford to risk another casting, Trella moves toward Khail, intent upon healing enough of his wounds so that he could survive contact with the priest’s fire shield.  She dismisses spike stones and a flaming sphere as she moves, but realizes almost too late that not all such impediments to her movement are of her own making.  Unwilling to risk losing her limited healing magic to the arcane guard’s spiked chain, the druid stops short, barks “Quid, heal Khail,” and smacks the guard repeatedly about the head with her staff.  She can only hope the priestess can reach him in time.

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

Cerridwin’s song completes, conjuring a puddle of grease that sends the quth-maren sprawling.  Though this only buys the foursome a few seconds, it is enough, and a concerted attack ends the undead’s existence.

Having dealt the killing blow with a siangham to its face, Andy recovers a bit more self-confidence.  “Follow me, ‘aight, and don’t get killed.”

Cerridwin snorts.  “I better get something for all of this.”  The monk does not immediately answer.

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

Quid sees the wisdom in Trella’s order and moves to follow it.  The end of a spiked chain digs into her lower back as she passes, but she grits her teeth and blocks out the distraction long enough to heal Khail of all wounds.  Finally giving in to the pain with a groan, she points toward the priest.  “Would you please kill her already?” the sorely injured Waukeenar says in an uncharacteristically plaintive manner.

Khail nods and strides forward boldly, raising his sword again to strike.  Watching her cousin’s killer in the same pose in which he was just before taking Zedarr’s life gives her pause, but her faith in Kiaransalee is too strong for prolonged worry.  Despite the threat she attempts to finish her spell while, inevitably, Khail’s blade falls.  Though the paladin is burned for his efforts, the wound he deals is grievous, and few exist who could keep concentrating in the face of such an attack.  Velina is not one of them, and her voice stutters and then stops.

The priestess coughs up blood and glares.  At her silent order, the last of her commanded undead ignores Quid completely and pummels the dying Michelangelo instead.  The final Renaissance drow expires with a silent sigh.

Though Rhien continues to exhibit an inability to strike Velina, Kyree has far less of a problem in that regard.  Four precisely placed arrows leave her on the brink of death.  Seeing this, Calla tumbles over to her swaying form and stabs her through the eyes.  As acid eats into the priestess’ brain, the rogue snarls, “That was for the polite kid, drow scum.”  Velina’s body crumples like so much stale bread.

Kai, however, is worried about another party member.  “Someone help Snicker!” she cries, as ten missiles of force fly from her fingertips to slay the arcane guard.  Trella obliges with a wand, while Quid works to save Danek before the barbarian calms down and expires.

Khail storms away from Velina’s corpse, leveling a blow that eliminates the final undead monstrosity as soon as the paladin reaches it.  Finding no enemies, Steve wearily lowers his head and rests his body against a wall.  Trella slumps, waving a hand vaguely at the elementals.  “Guard us,” she orders.

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

“Whoa, it looks like a war zone in here,” Andy exclaims upon entering the area around the kitchen.

Khail, emerging from the room after dispelling the silence radii within, scowls at them.  “I thought I told you to go to Dagger Falls,” he says.

Andy puffs out her chest, which has the unexpected effect of showcasing it to a suddenly embarrassed Khail.  “You did, ‘aight, but we weren’t going to just leave you.”  Cerridwin eyes Andy provocatively for the nth time that day.

Trella groans at the new development.  She wisely chooses to change the subject.  “Fine.  Whatever.  Do we stay or do we go?”

Kai looks up from petting her familiar.  “Raphael was pretty sure that this was their big roaming force, and that if this didn’t succeed, they’d just fall back to their regular positions.  So, I’d say here is as safe as anyplace else, if we can mind the smell.  Anyway, I’m nearly tapped as far as spells go, and couldn’t get everyone out of here if I wanted to.”

Trella nods.  “That’s it then; we stay.  Everyone in the room.”  Quid looks uncomfortable, but does not argue.  She concentrates instead on healing Danek, and tries to avoid looking at Dobi’s corpse.  For her part, the barbarian groans and coughs, regaining consciousness.  She tries hard to maintain her rage long enough for Quid to do her work.

Trella gathers the elementals again and orders them to roam in a loose perimeter around the party, making sure to return in nine and nineteen minutes to instruct newcomers to do the same.  She makes it clear that drow who give them trouble should be smashed, no questions asked, and that the party is not to be disturbed as all heal and sleep.  Nodding, the mighty outsiders go off to do her bidding.

Inside the room the mood is somber, as Dobi’s death hangs over all like a cloud of soot.  Quid finally gets up the resolve to bless the body, breaks down into tears for a moment, and then borrows the halfling’s boots, so as not to let good capital equipment go underutilized.  Her odd combination of emotion and practicality does not go unnoticed, but her suggestion of carrying the bard until the group next visits Amn seems a good one nevertheless.

Once a small watch is set up and healing is completed, the exhausted party settles down to sleep.  Sounds of battle drift up for the first few hours, but these do not trouble the repose of the physically drained group.  Trella, however, has a slight smile on her face as she softly snores.


----------



## htetickrt (Jun 20, 2004)

Jeremy said:
			
		

> I love it when you get to see what the bad guys are up to.




Me too.  Luckily, the next few episodes provide additional opportunities for this, as the Stepchildren (now at 14th level) take the fight to the rulers of Szith Morcane.  Much death (on both sides) results, with many opportunities for the bbegs' personalities to get under the PCs skin.  The archmage discussions are particularly amusing, I think.  They really hate him.


----------



## Jeremy (Jun 20, 2004)

Last night my party used a purchased scroll of seeming and a good bluff check to sneak in without sounding the alarm.  Velina was sent to find out what they wanted, decided she didn't like them, and told them to get out before she animated their dead bones.  Most of the party complied but for the darkhidden one who trailed her down to House Morcane.  He messaged the others to head for the bottom of the web, and now I have a party that is about to meet the full strength of House Morcane while trapped in between them and the web team.  And even if they survive, they are going to have to escape through the keeper of the web and the remainder of the barracks guards.

I love my group.  They always try so hard to get TPK'd.  This will make the third time they have attacked the leader of an outpost first and been attacked by everything in it while they are fighting that leader.  You'd think they'd have figured out that taking out the underlings and retreating first is easier.


----------



## htetickrt (Jun 23, 2004)

Jeremy said:
			
		

> I love my group.  They always try so hard to get TPK'd.  This will make the third time they have attacked the leader of an outpost first and been attacked by everything in it while they are fighting that leader.  You'd think they'd have figured out that taking out the underlings and retreating first is easier.




Ouch!  Both for them and for you, having to run a battle with the entirety of Szith Morcane at once.  Those types of battles are always fun, though.    

Not to give away too much, but this group (the surviving members, anyway) is moving in that direction as well.  Let's just say that they decided to try the same tactics your group uses on Irae T'sarran herself.  We're still resolving the battles.


----------



## htetickrt (Jun 25, 2004)

(Truly) Bazaar and Not So Common​
Danek wakes well before dawn, bloodshot eyes showing the strain of dark and troubled dreams.  Seeing all the others asleep, she pads over to Dobi’s corpse.  There she stands for the next hour, frowningly contemplating the halfling’s existence and its sudden cessation, before exhaustion finally overcomes her and she is forced to take her dissatisfaction to bed.

Kai, having awoken with a start at the barbarian’s return to her bedroll, notes the direction of Danek’s thoughts and signals her own awareness with a long, sad sigh for the little bard.  “We'll get him on his feet again soon,” she says as reassuringly as possible, though without much hope of success, to Danek.

The barbarian merely grunts and closes her eyes; Kai contents herself with hugging her familiar closer and quickly returning to sleep.

The night moves on; Cerridwin interrupts its quiet to go trolling for affection.  Andy turns him away, pleading a headache.  As the satyr storms away, the confused monk wonders yet again how she got to be here.  As usual, her questions are not answered.  Sleep proves an easier quarry.

Finally it is morning, or at least would be if the sun could penetrate earth and stone to reach this dark place.  Andy tries to continue her slumber, but cannot maintain it so close to Steve’s angry stomping.

“It would be just a rental on the slippers, Steve.  They really do go better with my outfit than with your coat.”  Steve snorts and turns away, effectively ending the discussion.  Quid sighs good-naturedly.

Andy yawns and stretches, quite unconscious of the effect this has on the tortured satyr.  Ignoring his decidedly unsubtle looks, she sidles over to Rhien as the monk watches Trella wrap Dobi’s body in cloth, all the while speaking words in a foreign tongue.  When she starts waving mistletoe, Andy can no longer hold hers.

“Do you think she’s doing anything?” the halfling inquires.

Rhien, ever patient, answers, “In what sense?”

“I mean, that looks like mumbo-jumbo.  In the army they had priests, you know, but mostly they were there for morale.  Big on the talking, but not so much with the magic.”

“Trella is very wise.  I am sure her actions have a purpose.”

“But she’s like a teenager,” Andy whines, “And sooo hot.”

“All wisdom is not encased by white hair and wrinkled skin, Andy.  Trella has experienced much in her short life.”

Khail drifts by as he buckles his armor.  “Plus, we were magically altered a couple of times.”

Rhien smiles.  “Yes, that too.  But look, she’s done.  It’s time to go, Andy.”

The halfling cannot suppress an audible gulp as she contemplates what that is likely to mean.

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

“The web is a mess.”  Trella scratches under her arm in irritation.

With only her shoulders and head visible above the carnage in the barracks hallway, Andy is more than a little on edge.  “I’m not staying here!” she cries shrilly.  “We have to find a way down!”

Khail peers over the edge of the chasm.  “Relax, little one.  Steve can ferry us all to the bazaar.”

The mighty warhorse stamps a hoof and looks at Quid meaningfully before doing just that.  Quid accepts a ride without comment.

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

Unlike the confined space of the barracks, the main expanse of the bazaar occupies—or occupied—a huge natural cavern.  A ledge about ten feet off of the ground runs the length of the northeastern wall, and some half-dozen doors are set into the wall beyond the ledge.  The cavern’s ceiling is twenty feet high, giving Steve the welcome ability to stretch his neck for the first time in a day.

Though this bazaar has clearly not operated at full capacity for many years, until recently it looks to have been occupied by a few Underdark denizens trading their wares.  Now, however, all that is present are the sickening remains of creatures pounded into pulpy messes.

Trella, ignoring the ripe odor, runs over to the nearest grouping of gore and kneels at its side.  A quick examination of the bodies is all it takes for the experienced tracker to deduce the circumstances of the creatures’ demise, details she gleefully shares with the rest of the party before anyone can even ask.

“My boys did this,” she exclaims happily.  “Look, there’s a squashed mind flayer, and a couple of pack lizards, and three duergar, and two sentries.”  Skipping further into the room, she spies additional bodies.  “Hey, and over here there are two of those ice storm dropping drow, and a couple more sentries.  All beaten into chunky salsa.”

Quid and Calla are amused by her enthusiasm, but are already gathering goods from the mushy pile.  The former comments, “Not only that, but no one came to collect anyone’s stuff.  That means we’ve made a dent in their defenses.  They’re waiting for us to come to them, which gives us a tactical advantage.”

Trella looks sourly at her.  “Tactical, smactical.  Hurry up and gather the rest of the stuff; I want to see what else my boys did.”

Judging by the flattened bodies of arachnids littering the interiors of the nearby warehouses, their next task was to kill spiders.  Only a trio of black oozes survived the elementals’ passing, and these are easily dispatched by Kai and Lenara or, more precisely, their wands of lightning.

The amorphous beings guarded a pair of doors, apparently untouched by Trella’s boys.  This earns caution in their examination, which immediately pays dividends as Calla discovers a magical trap on the rightmost one.  After disarming this—and taking a half-bow, half-curtsey to celebrate her handiwork—she backs away to allow the party to see what’s beyond the portal.

Khail pulls the door open, releasing an unspeakably vile stench into the warehouse.  Combining the worst elements of decaying flesh, refuse, and waste, the odor is sufficient to send Buttercup running back to the outer room.  Apparently, the big guy doesn’t like bad smells, surprising behavior from a half-orc indeed.

Peeking in, Kyree sees a fetid pool of slime glistening in the center of the small chamber that is revealed.  Around it, a number of amorphous shapes can be seen twitching, and within it, something glows with a sickly violet light.

Cerridwin shouts, “Wait!  One of those tentacled things from before is in there too!”

Lenara fires off a lightning bolt into the room before Trella can stop her.  Not only does the electricity leave the presumed roper unharmed, but the only effect it has on the amorphous shapes is to double their number.  Trella explains, “Those are ochre jellies; they’re immune to weapons AND electricity.  The roper’s immune too.”  Lenara moves sheepishly away.  Khail slams the door shut.

Kai smiles and motions at the portal.  “Anyone thinking what I’m thinking?”  On the same wavelength thanks to long association, Khail waits for Kai’s signal and then pulls the door open as the sorceress releases a fireball into the enclosed space.  The paladin slams the door shut immediately afterward, but Kyree’s elven eyes pick out the death of two-thirds of the jellies before his view is blocked.

After Kyree conveys this information, Kai shrugs.  “Again?”

The paladin grins—still an odd sight for those who have known him long—and opens the door once again.  Though the roper is ready, Kai beats it to the punch, and her blue-green force missiles eliminate the last of the jellies.  Eager to get in on the act, Lenara mimics the sorceress’ actions, sending off two projectiles of her own.

Injured but not dead, the roper manages to ensnare Kai with two tentacles, but cannot make her succumb to weakness.  Khail easily severs both with the blade now in his hand, and Lenara earns the kill with another volley.

Calla cautiously enters the room once she is sure the monster is dead, examining the pool through narrowed eyes.  “This must be some dirty drow trick,” she half-whispers, half-snarls, and no one sees fit to disagree.

“It’s a symbol of some sort,” she mutters, backing away when nothing overt happens.

Khail moves forward excitedly.  “Let me see; I like symbols in stone.”  Kai and Trella share a look.

“Oh, it’s just Ghaunadar.”  Khail seems disappointed.  Perhaps to cheer him up, Lenara offers the explanation that this must be a secret shrine, hidden to prevent persecution by the locals.  The paladin perks up a bit.

Calla mutters, “Whatever…stupid drow,” and unearths a small bit of monetary treasure hidden in a pair of clay urns.  With the room clearly devoid of other interesting details, the party moves on.

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

“Do you see this?”  Trella points at the smashed watch post and beams.  “My boys did this.”

“Yes, we figured that,” Quid says distractedly as she picks through the bodies of the dead drow for usable goods.

“They killed all the spiders back there too.”  Trella will not be denied.

“Your boys were outstanding,” Kai replies wisely.

“That’s all I’m saying,” Trella finishes.

Kyree cocks his head to one side as he stares at the broken structure.  “Has anyone else noticed that almost all the drow guard posts are devoid of chairs and tables?  Their devotion is impressive.”

Buttercup looks at him strangely; Calla makes gagging noises.

Trella eagerly urges the party on down the next passageway, her botanist’s eye taking in the green phosphorescence dancing along its walls as it opens into a huge cavern.  Stretching for hundreds of feet to the east, the floor of the latter is broken into a myriad of ledges and tilted slabs, many covered with carefully cultivated weird fungal growths.  Others sport bulbous houses or cottages seemingly grown from giant toadstools, and these finally give the druid pause as she beholds the destruction wrought upon them and their inhabitants by her summoned elementals.  Broken drow bodies spill from shattered windows and lie sprawled among the mushroom fields in equal measures, and the structures themselves exhibit sufficient damage so as to make most if not all unsafe for the return of any survivors of the carnage.

Trudging through the wet fields, the party discovers that not all the drow have been slain; a small number of commoners peek out from the sides of intact houses, watching the large, well-armed group with a mixture of hatred and fear in their dark eyes.  Trella ignores them, stopping instead at the body of a well-muscled drow that has been stripped clean of clothes and personal effects.  With his head caved in, it doesn’t take an expert to figure out that the elementals took care of this drow as well, and Calla lets out a loud whoop while fingering her dagger and glaring at the onlookers.  Trella has to take her by the arm to get the rogue to move on.

Kyree, ranging ahead, points out a manmade ford in a stream that blocks the way ahead.  Before crossing, Khail makes a quick trip to the north, where he discovers a heavy, swinging iron grate barring a passage that stretches to the northeast, into the darkness.  A huge padlock holds the barrier closed.  Khail withdraws an iron key he found earlier, and is not surprised that it fits the lock perfectly.  The paladin files away the passage for future use and returns to the group.

The ford is easily crossed, and leads to a region much like that on the other side.  More drow bodies lie sprawled in front of an eight-foot-high wall that divides the cavern in two, all stripped of their possessions.  A few feet behind them, on the other side of the mortared fieldstone, a large undead spider has been pummeled into a paste.  Trella can’t hold back a snicker.  Snicker narrows his eyes at her.

The passage loops around to the northeast, eventually opening up into a vast cavern with a ceiling that rises more than a hundred feet from the uneven ground.  Stalactites and stalagmites jut from ceiling and floor, occasionally joining to form a solid column.  Dense patches of phosphorescent fungus grow in various locations throughout the cavern, illuminating the whole area in a soft purple light.  Several beasts resembling small cattle or yaks roam about a stone-walled enclosure beside a large, dark lake.

From this oddly pastoral scene emerge a ragged band of thirty goblins, an equal number of underfed bugbears, two stone giants—one of which looks to be injured—and a burly bugbear clad in leather armor.  The last addresses the party in crude Common.  “Put down weapons.  No need to fight.  We work together to take over city?  Or we kill you like we kill your two big rocks.”  The stone giants visibly bristle at this pronouncement but do not contradict it.  Trella glares at the impudent bugbear, anger blooming redly across her tanned face.


----------



## Jeremy (Jun 25, 2004)

'All beaten into chunky salsa.'

Heh.


----------



## htetickrt (Jul 12, 2004)

Sorry for the long delay between posts; I had an accident with a Cutco knife while cutting bread and had a bit of trouble typing for a bit.  Stupid unnecessarily sharp knife.  Anyway, this one is short, but I hope it provides an amusing insight into the group's dynamics.  Certainly they amused me.

Entrance to the Inverted Tower​
While the druid fumes and heroically attempts to stifle a retort, Quid steps to the fore, unable to resist the lure of any potential barter, even with a bugbear slave.

"Well met, tall friend,” she says, addressing a stone giant with a nasty welt under his eye.   “An alliance does seem like it would be of mutual advantage. We have heard of your immense prowess in helping take this city.  But, how are we to trust you who were recently our enemy?  What are your plans for after the city is taken, and how do you want to divide the spoils?"

The giants, confused by the attention, defer to the bugbear who earlier addressed the group.  There is a very long pause as he tries to digest Quid’s words.  Eventually he says, "Yes.  We very powerful.  Take city.  Kill, uh, kill many drow.  Your enemy.  Now we kill rest."

Rhien coughs and gently nudges Quid.  He whispers, "They didn't help take the city. It was the other one, deeper in the Underdark.  Or rather a different group of creatures helped take that city.  Maerimydra I believe it is called.  These seem to be slaves, perhaps liberated by Trella's elementals."

The bugbear apparently has sharp ears, and he snarls at the monk.  "You know nothing.  We no slaves.  We strong, make drow do what we want.  You need our help or you get killed, pale things.  We get half of stuff; you get other half.  Fair.  We fight.  Grrr!  You fight.  Phlump.  We better.  But we help.  Ugh; you speak dumb.  Make head hurt.  Argh!"

Quid rolls her eyes and turns away from the bugbear.  “Let’s just attack the inverted tower.  The wizards there are probably the toughest foe we’ll face, so we should do so at maximum strength.  Unless that big gate Khail found leads somewhere promising.”

“It leads to the Underdark,” Calla says with certainty.  “We shouldn’t go down until we’ve killed every drow here.  They’re sneaky buggers, and we shouldn’t leave any behind us.”  Her eyes gleam eerily as she speaks.

Kai shudders involuntarily.  “Um, of course.  I’m going to go speak with the bugbear now.”  Her approach speaking in the humanoid’s native language of goblin is greeted with enthusiasm, and the two begin an animated discourse that only ends when Trella arrives and pokes Kai in the shoulder with her index finger.

"Not to interrupt," the druid says, "but if you're done chatting with Hairy-head over there, would you mind letting us in on the details?  More importantly, did my boys kick some bugbear ass?"

Kai laughs and turns around to face Trella, switching to elven smoothly.  "Sorry; the bugbear is a lot smarter than he seems.  Not actually smart, but not an idiot either.  His name is Thulk, and from what I gather he's the head of the slaves.  Some of your elementals got to here and engaged the stone giants, of which there used to be three, before finally being defeated.  These slaves were the beneficiaries of that.  Ordinarily they'd have tried to kill us already, but it seems that twelve heavily armed adventurers who control huge elementals are scary enough to get them to talk.  Thulk claims he can help us get rid of the rest of the drow if we split the spoils with him."

Quid pokes her head in.  “How about a language I can understand?”  Thus begins a round of translation that amuses and confuses Thulk, and brings everyone up to speed.  All except for Andy, that is, who knows only Common and so cannot be safely updated.  This makes her sad, so she begins to sing.  Cerridwin, feeling empathy, paws her crassly.  Several people feel vaguely ill as a result.

Kai shudders a second time.  “I don't know about you guys, but for my part I doubt this gang will be helpful enough to pay off.  Maybe we could send them in one direction while we go in another?  Although in that case they'd be sure to send us the more dangerous way.  Shall I tell them we don't need help and see what they offer?”  She repeats her words several more times in different languages, and contemplates a new career in the foreign service.

Quid maintains that “sixty ground troops and two giants should not be dismissed, especially if we use them properly. Ideally, we'd have a day, and I could alter my spells so that we could properly take them into battle.  But we can use them as cannon fodder, and back them up like special forces, Afghanistan style.  I imagine attacking the wizards to be a dangerous proposition, but we send them in for a frontal assault, and then supplement with our protection spells, ranged attacks, flight, and dispelling magics.  The Maztican resisters were much easier to subjugate…er, I mean liberate, once we began pitting them against each other.”

Calla starts.  “Afwhat’s it whoosit?”

The Waukeenar rubs the back of her neck.  “Look, you guys didn't listen when I said it would be bad sleeping in the barracks, which is fine, but I think this opportunity is too great to waste.  Acquisitions 5 Why fight a war when you can get someone else to do it for you?”

Rhien looks distressed by this and turns to Quid.  “There are only forty of them, and I can’t say I like outfitting them to die.  I’ll have no part of this.  When you’re ready to move on, I’ll be watching the chasm.”  The monk walks off.

Kai raises her hands defensively.  "Whoa, I didn't think it was _good_ to sleep in the barracks, but as I said at the time, I thought they would attack us no matter where we went unless we teleported far away, and I didn't want to waste the spells teleporting back the next day.  Steve's really heavy.  Plus, now we've gotten some of their powerful people out of the way, rather than having to attack them in well-defended positions.  But anyway, regarding our potential allies here, I agree that extra hands are always helpful.  I'm just raising the question of whether their help is worth the price they're asking.  You'd know the answer to that question better than I do, Quid, so you can decide and I'll pass the word along accordingly."

"I'm sorry, dear Kai," quickly replies Quid, "I had not meant to impugn your judgment. I do suppose except for dear Dobi, (may his soul nap in peace)," Quid makes a brief sacred gesture, "things did work out rather well last night.

"In terms of sharing the booty, if you put it that way, that's another story. Sending them off to attack on their own would have the same problem though. Perhaps they can accept other terms, such as one quarter of the gold, and half of the items, but we choose which items.  They perhaps need us more than we need them, thus we should press our bargaining advantage.  I am also worried about where they go afterward. Replacing rampaging drow with rampaging bugbears and giants is not necessarily the ideal resolution to this mess."

Kai turns to the bugbear to propose this split.  He looks shifty before finally replying with a question of his own, dutifully relayed back to the group by Kai.  "He wants to know what they would have to do.  I don't think they'll really go for it if we tell them straight out that we want them to go first. Though that would certainly settle the question of what most of them would do afterward."

Quid nods.  "Yup, well, that was also always part of my calculations.  While I have a deep respect for all of Toril's creatures, the loss of a few goblins and bugbears would not be a tragic one, and would indeed solve the other problem as well.  Tell them that we would teach them superior battle tactics, and transform them into an efficient fighting force that will attack with devastating power, so that when we direct them into battle, they will overcome any foe. And perhaps hint that the fewer of them left at the end, the fewer people they will have to share the treasure between. But that may not be a good idea."

Kai shrugs noddingly and/or nods shruggingly.  "Okay," she says, turning to the bugbear and translating this idea into goblin.

Thulk's brutish face softens, apparently taken in somewhat by Kai's natural charisma.  After a brief exchange, Kai turns back to the group and reports, "He's not buying the whole 'turn them into a potent fighting force' idea, but he is surprisingly willing to work with us.  This is likely a combination of his understanding that we have killed many drow, and his ignorance about what fills the rest of the outpost.  I think we could get them to accompany us to the inverted tower for about a quarter of found treasure, if we wanted.  I don't think he'll go much lower for fear of losing face.  And the giants might be problems."

Trella says something decidedly Quid-like.  "Tell them we could throw in discretionary bonuses for particularly impressive acts.  We could also have them keep track of drow casualties and for every five verified kills add 0.5% to the monetary treasure dividends for the mighty giants or whatever."  She shrugs.

Kai passes this along, altering the wording slightly so as to be more easily understood.  She turns back to the group after a brief discussion with Thulk, saying, "Okay, they've agreed to a quarter of all treasure found, with bonuses to Thulk and the giants depending on the number of drow killed. Now they want to receive all that training we promised before we take them down to the inverted tower."

Kyree volunteers to teach them archery.  Upon noting their lack of bows, the ranger contents himself with showing them what they're missing out on with a brilliant display of skill.

Quid shrugs a “don't look at me” shrug.  "Damn it, I'm a doctor not a drill sergeant.  I make the offers for other people to do the work.  Dobi would have loved to do the training, a self stylized Marquis de Lafayette, dilettante general…ah well.”  She trails off.

After a moment of thought, Quid continues, “How about equipping them with random and cheap gear from the dead drow?  Of course, we’ll take that out of their cut, plus interest.  One of you martial types could arrange them into squads of eight or so, each squad surrounding one target, run them through some small formation tactics, teach 'em to bull rush and grapple especially if regular attacks aren't penetrating, to hold their attacks to disrupt spell casters, to initiate attacks by a charge, and to stay spread out to avoid area effect spells.”

This penetrates Calla’s studied insanity.  “You’ve got to be kidding.”  The diminutive rogue pulls a disturbing length of cracked drow femur from a pocket and begins to whittle it as she wanders off.

Khail points at the bag of holding that Quid now carries and says, “There aren’t any cheap weapons in there.  I for one am not comfortable with giving them masterwork or enchanted weaponry and armor.  They are evil, and will revert to their base nature.  We’d be better off tying them all to trees and leaving food for them to eat.”

Quid sighs and throws up her hands.  “Whatever.  You’re the muscle.”

Trella takes the bugbears and the giants to one side, expecting others to teach the goblins.  She demonstrates simple quarterstaff and sling techniques as she assumes that finding sticks, stones, and slings suitable to arm and equip this misfit bunch would not be impossible.  Though obtaining these implements proves more difficult than she imagined, the druid is not wrong, and ably fabricates rough weapons out of some of the tougher mushrooms and assorted farming detritus.  This takes nearly two hours, a time matched by the length of the training that Trella provides after the weapons are crafted.  Eventually she ends her instruction—more out of annoyance than any real sense that progress has been made—and reconvenes mini-camp with the goblins.

The smaller goblinoids, now armed with rocks in a vain attempt to emulate Kyree, join their smelly selves to the larger stench.  Trella moves upwind, and encourages the rest of the party to do likewise.  She doesn’t have to make the suggestion twice.

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

“My nose feels assaulted,” Calla comments, “they smell worse than drow turd.”

Quid moves to respond but wisely thinks better of it.

“We’re just lucky that they bought our reasoning for their going first.  I wasn’t keen about allowing them behind us,” Kai interjects.

Trella shushes the trio.  “There are problems with going first as well.  Look.”  She gestures towards an octagonal room formed from walls of smooth, black rock that is presently packed with panicking goblins enmeshed in webbing.  “It seems they were ready for us.”

Khail advances boldly.  “I’ll handle this,” he proclaims while striding into the passage, putting him in position to see the two drow—spitting images of Raphael—who step out into the opposing archway to view the commotion.  The paladin’s presence offers a different interpretation to those about to label this a surprising slave revolt, and they react accordingly.

As the rest of the group forces its way into the press of bodies, a new drow suddenly appears, floating effortlessly over the goblins.  Rakishly handsome in his half-opened purple shirt that billows in the swirling air currents, he takes in those present with a keen eye.  Apparently deciding that the disturbance is of little consequence, he brushes a loose white hair back behind a fine gold headband and straightens his black cloak cavalierly before addressing those assembled.

“Now, now, let’s not be hasty here.  While you could undoubtedly slay my guards, should you choose to engage me you will meet an untimely end.  If I, Solom Ned’razak, archmage of Szith Morcane for over two hundred years, can see fit not to exterminate you as the insects you are, surely you can stay your rash hands for a moment.  It may mean your lives.”

Idly playing with a single gold hoop in his left ear, the mighty mage waits for a response.


----------



## htetickrt (Jul 12, 2004)

Since I foolishly triple-posted the last update, I thought I'd post a couple of my additions before the new update below.  This one is Solom's muscle: a dominated Troll fighter/barbarian.

Smurgh: Male troll Ftr8/Bbn1; CR 14; Large giant; HD: 6d8+8d10+1d12+120; hp 233; Init +3; Spd: 40 ft.; AC 24, touch 10, flat-footed 24; Atk +25 2 claws (1d6+13/19-20 x2) plus +20 bite(1d6+5); SA rend (additional 2d6+18 if both claws hit); SQ scent, regeneration 5, DR 10/-, fast movement, rage 1/day; AL CE; SV Fort +21, Ref +7, Will +4; Str 32, Dex 16, Con 26, Int 7, Wis 10, Cha 5.
_Skills and Feats:_ Listen +16; toughness, roll with it x5, combat reflexes, power attack, weapon focus (claw), weapon spec (claw), improved crit (claw)

_Usual magic active during combat:_ magic circle against good, maximized empowered endurance, magic vestment (+5), protection from fire, mind blank, dominate monster

_Stats while buffed and raging:_
AC 27 (29 vs. good); hp 308; Atk +25 2 claws (1d6+15/19-20 x2) plus +22 bite(1d6+6); SA rend (additional 2d6+21 if both claws hit); SV Fort +26, Will +6 (+2 to all vs. good); Str 36, Con 36.  Rage lasts for 21 rounds.

_Possessions:_ half-plate, ring of counterspelling (harm).


----------



## htetickrt (Jul 12, 2004)

Here is Bargh, Solom's man-at-arms.  I decided he'd be a spiked chain master, as a partial explanation for the weapon's widespread use among the arcane guards.

Bargh: Male half-ogre ftr10/bbn7; CR 18; Large giant; HD 10d10+7d12+68; hp 179; Init +5; Spd 30 ft.; AC 36, touch 13, flat-footed 35; Atk +27/+22/+17/+12 +2 unholy shocking spiked chain (2d4+14+(1d6 electricity) + (2d6 unholy vs. good)/19-20 x2); SQ rage 2/day, darkvision 60', uncanny dodge; AL CE; SV Fort +19/+9/+10; Str 24, Dex 13, Con 18, Int 13, Wis 14, Cha 9.
_Skills and Feats:_Climb +27, Listen +22, Swim +27, Intimidate +19; Combat Expertise, Dodge, Mobility, Spring attack, Whirlwind attack, Weapon Focus (spiked chain), Weapon Specialization (spiked chain), Improved Critical (spiked chain), Improved Trip, Improved Init, Power Attack, Cleave.
_Possessions:_ potion of haste, demon armor, +4 animated large steel shield, ring of protection +2, cloak of protection +3, 3 potions cure crtical wounds, +2 unholy shocking spiked chain

Bargh is usually protected by a mind blank and drinks a potion of haste before combat. When thus buffed and raging, his stats become:
AC 38, touch 15, flat-footed 37; hp 213; Atk +29/+29/+24/+19/+14 +2 unholy shocking spiked chain  (2d4+17+(1d6 electricity) + (2d6 unholy vs. good)/19-20 x2); SV Fort +21, Will +12; Str 28, Con 22; Climb +29, Swim +29.  Bargh can rage twice each day for 9 rounds each time.


----------



## htetickrt (Jul 17, 2004)

Here's the last episode of active discourse before the bloodshed begins.  I've posted a couple of enemies' stats in the previous two posts as a teaser.

Deal with a Drow​
Kai pauses a moment before answering, "We're listening," without raising her voice.

Solom smiles, revealing brilliantly white, perfectly straight teeth.  "Excellent.  What I offer is a simple deal.  You, no doubt, desire an end to the raids on the surface.  I can supply this.  I desire an end to endless uninspired theocratic rule.  With my aid, you can supply this.  When the priests in power are no more, and I rule Szith Morcane, I will make sure that no drow trouble your surface realms.

"So, do we have a deal?"

Quid snaps back, “Not so fast Mr. Pretty Boy. I have a few questions. Also, perhaps as a show of good will, you release the web that surrounds us?”

Solom narrows his eyes, but remains calm after Quid's decidedly undiplomatic display.  "If I release the webbing, the slaves you have stolen will make a mess of my foyer.  Regardless, I see little reason to return stolen property to you.  You have already destroyed enough of my city as it is."

“Why should we trust that you would honor your terms?” the Waukeenar snaps back.

"My part of the bargain will be accomplished before you take any further risk yourselves.  The only party who will need to trust the other is I.  You are trustworthy, are you not?"

"What exactly would be required of us?”

Solom chuckles mirthlessly.  "I am ever wondering why anyone would covet the surface realms, when the horrid sun is so apt to fry the brain.  You are to kill every priest left in Szith Morcane, whether she follows the Spider Queen or the Pale Lady.  Is that simple enough, or are visual aids required?"

Quid retorts, “There doesn't seem to be much of Szith Morcane left to rule over, so why bother?”

Solom’s voice dips into a dangerous growl.  "My motives are not your concern.  They are as beyond your comprehension as your puerile meanderings are indecipherable to the rats that gnaw your boots in the night."

Quid is undeterred.  “Of course stable governments are always best for markets to flourish, but…"

Solom cuts her off.  "Do you find your own voice amusing, Waukeenar?  For I do not."

After Quid's heated exchange, Trella takes the floor, placing a calming hand on the priest’s shoulder.  "Hi, uh, Mr. Ned-razak, is it?  Anyway, name's Trella, not that you care, but we have a prior agreement with members of House Morcane and have pledged to help them rid their ancestral home of the followers of the White Banshee who invaded it.  Of course you know that.  But, see, we are honorable people and cannot enter into an agreement that would violate our preexisting promise; you may use magic to scry my intentions if you doubt my words.  I just want to clarify our position because you asked whether or not we are trustworthy, and the answer is yes; even if it means having to fight to our certain deaths, we keep our promises and won't betray members of House Morcane.  Me personally, I have no problem ridding you of what seems to be a sizable headache, but we need to be clear on the limits."

Andy, standing nearby, can barely keep her teeth from chattering.

Solom sneers.  "House Morcane is dead.  Their foolish priests were slaughtered like cattle when Lolth went silent and the rest fled like the cowards they are.  I am not of that House, nor am I a T'sarran or allied with their cult of the White Banshee.  You need not fear breaking any prior oath through dealings with me."

Kai returns to an earlier assertion. "You claim you can put an end to the raids immediately.  What proof of this will we have?"

Solom's mouth twists into a smirk.  "You won't see any more raids."

Kai boldly ventures, "True—not from down here, where we'll be fighting clerics, we won't."

"Expecting to take a week fighting priests, do you?  Perhaps I should offer this deal to the slaves."

Kai purses her lips.  "Not good enough.  Suppose you tell us who is carrying out the raids and what power you have over them."

"The raids were ordered by the T'sarrans.  When they are dead, they cannot order additional raids.  I have no interest in your sun-scorched excuse for a civilization, so I will not be continuing the practice."

Kai considers this.  "And you will hold this outpost against other chaos-loving servants of the Banshee, should they come in the future?  We have heard that they are gaining power elsewhere in the Underdark."

The archmage shrugs.  "Either I will or I will be dead.  In either case your outcome is optimal."

The sorceress turns to her companions with raised eyebrows.  "What do you guys think?  I'm tempted, but remember I wanted to leave the mages alone in the first place."

Quid concentrates, calling upon her faith to discern Solom’s motives.  She quickly determines with it that the archmage is not actually there, however; an image is holding court with the party.

Frustrated, she announces to the projection, "I would be more than happy to deal with you Mr. Pretty Boy, but I am still not clear what we get out of this deal.  You want us to kill the priests we find so that they will stop raiding, and all we get is your sovereignty over the entire outpost.  It does not seem like a balanced trade, does it?"

"Not if you conveniently leave out pieces of it, Waukeenar.  I help you kill the priests, as I said.  You would not succeed on your own.  Further, since you were clearly planning on attempting to extirpate every drow with whom you came into contact, all I require is that you leave my tower, and any remaining slaves and commoners, alone.  Frankly, you should do this without my aid, as you face certain death at my hands should you choose to test your pitiful might against mine."

Quid groans.  "That's the part I was wondering about.  Duh. What kind of help?"

Solom reverts to his earlier sneer.  "You'll find out when you need to, Waukeenar.  Suffice it to say, it will be with something you could not possibly accomplish yourself."

Quid presses on, "Also, hasn’t it been your boys on all these hunter-killer groups we've been dealing with? Like that chubby fellow that helped kill my friend?  Why the sudden change of heart?"

"My boys?  The T'sarran control their 'teams' and determine their makeup.  I aid them minimally to stave off annoying interference in my work.  I would prefer to keep my students here, in training as they should be.  My heart has not changed."

"Finally, I believe Trella's concern was that you asked us to kill all priests we find, but we would be obliged not to kill members of Morcane that we may or may not come across."

"And I replied that House Morcane is dead.  Really, you should learn to pay greater attention when your betters speak.  There are no living members of it in this outpost; hence, there will be no conflict of interest for you.”

Solom’s image smoothes its shirt.  "I grow tired of this back and forth.  Make your inevitable decision so that I may return to my work in peace."

Trella replies, both to Solom and to Kai’s earlier question, "Our foremost goal in this excursion was to stop the raids.  If agreeing to help ghost boy here will further that agenda, then I say we do it.  Can't wait to see what he provides us by way of help."

Andy reluctantly nods and whispers, "Do whatever will keep him from getting upset with us."

Calla barely restrains a murderous desire to separate the archmage’s guards from their heads.  She says in a strained whisper, "I, for one, don't trust him," and then retreats into shadow.

Kai adds, "We can ask him to spell out what he'll do for us.  Heck, we could even ask him to give us back his slaves.  I don't really mind either way, so the final word is up to you guys."

Danek frowns, knowing diplomacy isn't her strong suit.  Kyree adjusts his stance in frustration, but says nothing.

Rhien gazes darkly at the mass of goblins.  "I didn't like training them, but now that we have I don't believe it's right to hand them back to the drow."

Quid shrugs. “‘Mergers 5 The enemy of my enemy is a sucker.’  We might as well use what resources are available.  Then perhaps we leave our goblin horde here to watch over the tower while we seek the other drow. I will not condone the institution of slavery.”

More thoughtfully, she concludes, “I agree with Calla though. Be very aware of treachery….”

Trella nods.  “We’ll put it to a vote, but I want the slaves freed as a term of the deal.”  She, Andy, Kai, Quid, Lenara, and Rhien come out for some variant of the bargain.  Calla is strongly opposed, maintaining her position in the darkness.  Kyree stares at the goblin horde with narrowed eyes, wanting entirely too much to shoot them all.  Cerridwin stands still, her very existence freaking out several other party members.  Danek stays out of the discussion.  Khail debates morality with his steed, and gets nowhere.  Dobi remains deceased.  Buttercup’s head hurts.

Trella proclaims, "Sorry, Calla, looks like we're making this deal."

The slaves mutter restlessly while they are the topic of discussion.  They relax a bit when Trella makes it clear that she wants them freed as part of the deal.

Solom responds calmly, "The slaves are not your property; they belong to the city, which is to be mine.  If you desire them freed, you must provide adequate recompense.  I consider this separate from the deal at hand.  However, if you cannot perform the same mental trick, I will accept fifty gold per goblin head, 100 per bugbear, two thousand for each giant, and three thousand for their leader.  These prices are non-negotiable, but you may purchase fewer than the full quantity of slaves."

Kai gives a thin smile.  "As you point out, the city is not yours yet.  These creatures are currently the property of the T'sarrans.  As you decline to elaborate on how you will help us, surely you understand our desire to use every asset at our disposal to defeat our mutual enemy.  You may take possession of the city after we have succeeded."

Solom's answering smile matches Kai's.  "I applaud your attempt, but it is insufficient.  As the archmage of Szith Morcane, I have the right to utilize the city's slaves in any way I desire.  They are useful in their fashion, and if I were to lose them I would require compensation.  If you indemnify me for their potential—or should I say, nearly guaranteed—demise at the hands of the priests, then that would be sufficient as well."

Before anyone can respond, Thulk makes his displeasure known.  "You promise to train us, not kill us or bring us back to drow!  We leave now!"

Solom chuckles.  "And where will you go, little slave?  These people have upset the delicate balance you once kept, and most of those still loyal to you are trapped here until I desire their release."

The archmage taps his index finger against his lips thoughtfully.  "No, I think you shall stay here.  With such wanton destruction through most of this city, I shall need guards of the more mundane sort to keep the riffraff out until I can repopulate the outpost.  You will do nicely, or provide food for those who will do better."

Solom turns back to the party.  "Or, your payment will allow me to acquire a more competent staff.  Your choice, but make it quickly.  My patience grows thin."

Quid retorts, "Though I am morally against the trucking and bartering of intelligent life, I acknowledge the legitimacy of your system of property rights. However, given the recent collapse of order in Szith Morcane (under your watch), I see no reason to abide by them. So I think we should take them with us. It is not in your interest to try to stop us."

Solom scowls.  "Pray tell, how does your miniscule intellect lead you to that conclusion?"

Before she can respond, the drow crosses his arms in front of him.  "This discussion is leading us nowhere.  MY slaves will be staying with me unless you decide to buy them.  You may have my aid in disposing of the remaining T'sarran priests, IF you agree to my terms.  Otherwise you would be well advised to fly from here, as my patience with your prattling is nearly exhausted."

Rhien's brown eyes are hard as he glares at the archmage of Szith Morcane. "This is not right," he whispers.  "Against my better judgment we trained them to fight.  We cannot simply abandon them to this fiend."

Calla emerges from the shadows snarling, her face a feral mask of hatred.  "He's no worse than the rest.  The drow should be extinguished, every one of them."

Danek mutters, "If we want to fight this guy, I don't mind.  But why do it over a bunch of goblins?  They probably won't be that much help."  She leaves unsaid that she doesn't think she herself is that helpful in most battles.

Trella massages her temples as the argument's back and forth takes its toll.  To the increasingly annoyed mage, she says, "Okay, let me offer a compromise."  To Thulk, she says, "He is correct, even with your training, you are likely to be killed as we lay siege to the priests.  You may not believe me, but this place may be safer for you in the short term.  I have not lied to you and am not doing so now, so please trust me."

Before he and the other slaves can go crazy, she turns back to the archmage, "We will pay you as much as we can afford now, and return with whatever more is necessary as full compensation for the slaves.  Consider the money a down payment on the whole group as well as a gesture to show our good faith in honoring both our bargains with you.  In return for our gesture, I ask that the slaves be treated well, provided food, shelter, and safety.  As some of them are our property, and the rest will be our property in a short time, we will expect that our interests will be served to the best of your formidable abilities in our absence.  This should satisfy you, seeing as you will end up with sufficient funds to purchase slaves more to your liking."

Smoothing out her robes, she exudes serene calm.  "Do we have a deal, or should we resort to messy, and needless, fighting?  Clearly you can see the lengths we are willing to go to in order to honor a promise?"

The mage inclines his head.  "Very well.  My nonnegotiable price for all the slaves is 9,500 gold.  I will accept half that now, with the other half due upon completion of the rest of the bargain.  In the meantime, I will keep them safe."

Calla interjects her thoughts, hissing, "Are you all mad?!  We're paying thousands of gold to free goblins and bugbears from this fop and worse, trusting in his honor to keep a bargain?  Drow have no honor.  Do we need his help this badly?  Perhaps I have misjudged you all."  The halfling skulks off.

Thulk looks distressed as he figures out what's going on.  He whispers conspiratorially, "Little one right.  You should no trust drow.  You leave us here, we die.  Pay for us to be free, or sneak back fast and kill mage.  Only way to be safe."

Quid says, “I agree with Calla. I am hesitant to leave them here, to place so much trust in this drow, and to expend so much capital on his distasteful enterprise.”  Turning to face the archmage, she adds, “I dislike the arrogance in your tone, Mr. Pretty Boy.  However, if the group does insist that he should be paid, I offer that we pay half now and take the goblins and bugbears with us.  I will pledge to the fair lady herself that we will return with the other half.  Of course Thulk, the money would come out of your share.”  She says the latter under her breath.

Solom is displeased at Quid's tone, but says through clenched teeth.  "Fine, take the simpering slaves if it means I don't have to listen to your prattle any more.  The money is due upon your return, whether or not they die in your assault.  It is your responsibility to free them from the webs."

Khail, looking unhappy about the whole exchange, shrugs at this.  "No problem."  The paladin pushes past the rest of the part, waves his blade…and the webs vanish as if they never were.  The freed goblins nearly crush him in their haste to leave the mage's demesne.

Quid queries Thulk about additional slaves, her eyes gleaming at the promise of a glorious slave rebellion.  His response is less than encouraging, though, and she abandons such grandiose notions as she pays for the slaves’ freedom.

Solom grins wickedly as he watches the goblins shove each other to escape the tower.  “Meet me at the entrance to the home of House Morcane.  There I will provide my promised aid.”  The image vanishes after he finishes his orders.  Trella herds the slaves out and down, bringing them to perhaps the most dangerous level of the outpost: the lair of Dorina T’sarran.

Solom is already there, standing near the front of the room and idly tapping a wand into his palm.  “I was wondering when you would arrive,” he says, rather predictably.  “I was beginning to fear you were sent hurtling to your deaths in the waters far below by your precious slaves.”

Several goblins spontaneously acquire ‘We could have done that?’ looks, but these are immediately squelched by the reactions of some of the more irate party members.

Quid steps to the fore, relishing her role as irritant.  “So Mr. Pretty Boy, what is this help you promised?  Are you going to expose more of your chest to scare away the priests?”

Solom scowls.  “Your voice makes me almost favor the cult.  Almost, but not completely.  This entire area was protected by a powerful forbiddance cast by Dorina T’sarran herself.  She is the daughter of Irae T’sarran, and a mighty priest in her own right, and your puny magics would have had no chance to counter her spell, leaving your pitiful band divided and weaker than it already is.  I have eliminated it, allowing even worthless goblins to traverse holy ground.

“In addition, I shall also provide a small measure of information.  The ladder in front of you is one of eight identical ones, placed at equal intervals around this level.  All ascend to the Fane of Lolth.  I would advise you not to explore that region until after eliminating all opposition below.

“There is only one entrance into the central region of this level, through a makeshift temple to Kiaransalee reached through a double door to the north.  I advise you to avoid that portal, instead passing through the now-empty guard post nearby.  This will allow you to destroy the coffins of at least some of your vampiric foes before facing them, giving you an advantage in the battle.  There is a passage through the guard post to the rear of the temple.  I give no guarantees as to which approach is preferable.”

Solom nods his head slightly.  “I have given my promised aid.  Now you must hold up your end of the bargain.”

Unwilling to let him leave so quickly, Quid says, “How do we know you did anything?  There might never have been a forbiddance.”

Solom smirks.  “You will have to trust me.”  Before anyone else can speak, the archmage is gone, without word or gesture.

Pleased to be free of him, Trella tries to push the slaves to go deeper into the level.  They will have none of it, though, and huddle in the corner of the entrance.  The druid sighs heavily and moves into the next room, ignoring the spiderweb ladders that lead into the fane as she passes into a room bare save for two pairs of manacles on the wall.

Khail enters a moment later.  “Occupied?”

Trella shakes her head negatively.  “One was, but neither has been for a while.  See these marks?  It looks like someone struggled for quite a long time to get out of these.”

Rhien enters, eyes narrowed to points.  Deliberately avoiding the manacles, he moves into the chamber to the south.  Here eight coffins lie in state on the floor.  Behind them is a row of counters and cupboards that have obviously been well ransacked.  Some of their doors hang open; others have been broken off.  There are cuts in the countertops, and most of the shelves have been pulled out.

Rhien aims to visit a similar level of destruction upon the coffins, smashing them repeatedly with his enchanted gloves.  Khail and Trella join him soon after, and eventually Andy and Danek get into the act as well.  The violence is oddly therapeutic.

Calla, who had silently gone off to scout, returns as the last of the coffins is no more than tattered shards of wood.  “I would caution you to be quiet, but it looks like we’ve been expected,” she says.  “Most of this level—outside of the doors leading to the temple—is deserted, but I could hear the faintest sounds of movement through the doors themselves.  Sounded like a half-dozen or more clumsy feet, and an equal or greater number of quieter folks.  They clearly are waiting for us.”  Her eyes gleam eagerly in the torchlight.


----------



## Jeremy (Jul 19, 2004)

AC 38, touch 15, flat-footed 37; hp 213; Atk +29/ +29/ +24/ +19/ +14 +2 unholy shocking spiked chain (2d4+17+(1d6 electricity) + (2d6 unholy vs. good)/ 19-20 x2.

Wow. You really didn't want them taking down Solom easy did you? 

If it weren't for their damned iron bands of binding, this guy would probably kill my party solo, much less with an archmage backing him up.


----------



## htetickrt (Jul 19, 2004)

Jeremy said:
			
		

> Wow. You really didn't want them taking down Solom easy did you?
> 
> If it weren't for their damned iron bands of binding, this guy would probably kill my party solo, much less with an archmage backing him up.




Nope.    

In my defense, my party was 15th level at the time, and a rather overpowered 15th at that.  Still, between Bargh, a wiz13/acm5 upgraded Solom, and assorted lesser lights, that was the hardest fight they've had to date.  I figured that since it was an optional battle--only their pride would have suffered had they not attacked--there was no reason not to go all out, so it ended up at about an EL of 21 or so.  Without giving too much away, Bargh was slightly less effective than Solom and his prismatic spray.  After that, the group decided to spend more time and money on defense.


----------



## htetickrt (Aug 6, 2004)

Vampire Smackdown: The Set-Up​
Trella spins on the goblins trailing the group.  “Find somewhere safe.  This is going to get ugly.  Uglier than you, even.  And don’t get any ideas;” she adds as an afterthought, “It’s unwise to fool with Mother Nature.”

The little humanoids cower appropriately; Trella addresses the group.  “We don’t want to engage in close quarters, so this’ll be from a distance as much as possible.  That means Kai and Kyree go in blasting, and the rest of us act as support.”

Kyree nods grimly.  “Consider them peppered.  With, er, arrows that is.  Not pepper.”  The elf laments his lack of skill in turning a clever pre-battle phrase, and resolves to practice more in the future.

Quid looks at the cowed and demoralized slave hordes and sighs. “Where’s Dobi when you need him,” she mutters, “he’d be ready with an inspiring speech right about now.”  Nevertheless, the priest does what she can, healing injured stone giants while entreating all to smash anything that comes their way.  The stone giants are admirably enthused at the prospect; Thulk retreats to his other troops in order to “keep them in line.”

Kai gives a tiny sigh in the direction of the slaves before turning back to the business at hand.  “I’m ready with a fireball,” she says simply.  “All our wands of lightning won’t be much good in there.”

Quid casts daylight on a stone, and then draws her wand of searing light to complement it.  Danek asks everyone, "Does anybody want to try being invisible to undead?  It might not work, and probably won't on all undead, and you can't attack at all or everybody loses it at the same time.  But if you might not do much anyway," she continues with less enunciation, "it could help."  She looks at Lenara, Andy, Cerridwin and Buttercup in particular.

Cerridwin smiles and puffs out his chest a bit when Danek looks at him.  Then he looks at Andy smarmily.  Danek frowns.

Andy replies, "Heck, yeah!  Hit me wit' some of dat undead shizzle."

Trella regards Andy with disgust.  “Let’s finish up, people.  The vampires aren’t getting any older.”

The remaining preparations are hastily concluded and Calla pulls open the nearby door on Trella’s signal.  Mist and fire immediately flood the revealed space in roughly equal proportions, the former obscuring the effect of the latter, save for the plainly audible sound of pained squealing.

Khail pulls back his blade, ready to swing, but nothing emerges from the room.  He starts forward, but is restrained by Calla’s hand on his leg.  The halfling creeps forward without a word, poking ahead with her dagger.  The paladin whispers urgently behind her, “No evil, but be careful.”  Calla snorts.

A few second later she returns with a charred rat skewered on the end of her acidic blade.  “I don’t think we caught anything bigger than this in there.”

Trella mutters, “Damn.”  She ushers Calla, Kyree, and Andy forward to check out the room, earning her a loud gulp from Andy.

Peering through the mist, Kyree whispers back, “Dead rats, more dead rats, huge ugly tapestries showing murders and corpses, even more dead rats, some kind of ceremonial table, an elaborate web and the remains of another one and, oh yeah, dead rats.”

“I don’t like this.  Kyree….”  Trella never finishes her thought, as her words are drowned out by the horrified screams of a gaggle of goblinoids.  Before she can rush over to see what is amiss, the misty room in which she stands abruptly grows dark and crowded.  Four figures—two drow, two drider—materialize in front of the chamber’s sealed exits, and an obviously charmed pair of bugbears, including their noble leader Thulk, burst through the open one.

Kyree is unimpressed.  Shrugging off a drider’s minor magic, the elf blasts it to oblivion with a quartet of enchanted arrows.  “What use are all those legs now?” he mocks, regretting it as soon as the ill-formed taunt leaves his mouth.  Quid’s cry of “Burn foul communist vermin, burn” draws him away from prolonged worry about his lack of witty repartee, however, and provides enough warning for him to jump out of the way of a poorly aimed ray of light.

Quid groans at her miss.  “Can somebody try dispelling the anti-light effects?  I think I almost hit Kyree.”

Kai mutters, “What’s good for the goose…” remembering times she was on the wrong end of a far less experienced Kyree’s arrows*.  Nevertheless, the sorceress does as requested, allowing more light into the room.  The additional illumination reveals a chaotic melee: stone giants and Buttercup face off against an increasing number of charmed bugbears; Khail leads half the group in a charge against the vampires; and the other half tries very hard not to be seen.

Focused on his art, Kyree is unaffected by the details of the engagement, and his next barrage turns the second drider to gas as easily as the first.  Drawing courage from this, Andy breaks her invisibility and rushes to Buttercup’s aid.  Danek sighs as hers vanishes as well, and she rushes to join Rhien in melee.  Behind her Cerridwin surreptitiously greases the floor, but this is overshadowed by the spectacle of a door suddenly blocked by Trella’s curtain of fire.

Unfortunately, the attempt at battlefield control goes for naught as the freed slaves make their appearance on the scene.  Frightened beyond reason by what’s outside of the room, a column of bugbears and goblins charge through the doors, blindly looking for a way out in the midst of the mist.  All they find is a greasy floor, however, causing the great majority of the goblinoids to begin helplessly sliding across the slick surface.  Those that manage to avoid succumbing to the grease are bowled over by the sheer momentum of those behind them, leading to the issuance of a cone of sprawling goblinoids into the makeshift temple.

With no way to avoid them, the rear echelon of the party is swept up in the crush.  Dodging and weaving, most avoid entanglement, but Lenara and Quid do lose their footing and get mixed up in the mayhem.

The cause of the stampede soon becomes known, as two fresh vampiric noble guards calmly ignore the grease as they enter the room.  Finally finding success with a favored trick, one of the two shatters Buttercup’s mental defenses and takes control of the half-orc.

Oblivious to this, Andy nimbly hurdles prone figures to reach Thulk, executes a pretty handspring, and stabs out the bugbear’s life on the way down.  The disturbed halfling curtseys awkwardly when done, but no one pays much attention.

Quid groans and throws a goblin off her.  “One must never impede the workings of the market,” she grumbles, before incinerating an injured vampire with another ray of searing light.  “For Capitalism!” she cries, after seeing her success.  Then she has to duck out of the way of the stone giants, as they lay about themselves with abandon following the death of Thulk.  Flying bugbear bodies zip by her head, tousling her blonde hair.

Lenara struggles to her feet nearby.  “Hey, one of the vampires is retreating!  We’re winning!”  The goblins don’t seem to agree, and flood en masse past her toward the double doors on the northern end of the room.  In their haste to throw it open and run screaming into the darkness, they nearly smash into a quartet of quth-maren.  Not liking their chances against these, the remaining humanoids cower in the center of the room.  Their attempt at looking nondescript elicits a groan from Trella.

“Just stay there!” the druid orders.  “Shut up and keep out of the way!”  The less experienced party members attempt to follow this advice as well, with varying degrees of success.

Kai scowls from the corner to which she fled after the ruckus.  “Stupid useless goblins….  Down!”  A pair of lightning bolts streaks over the diving humanoids, but does little to the resistant undead.  “Great, fire and electricity.  What next?  Ah!”

Kai’s exclamation segues into a scream as the wild, burly drow female who just seconds earlier startled her by her sudden appearance now slices through the sorceress’ tender flesh with her greatsword.  With her own blood now staining the stone floor, Kai looks in fear toward the quth-maren, but they maintain their posts, even as stone giants pound them with clubs.

The reason for these tactics becomes clear soon after, as four more vampiric drow warriors take up defensive positions behind them, apparently guarding the beautiful, if a bit feral looking, gaunt drow woman behind them.  Yellowish-white hair provides a striking contrast to her deep black skin, and frames a snarl that reveals the unmistakable fangs of a vampire.  Unlike the rapier-wielding noble guards, however, this one sports black elven-chain and a heavy mace that reeks of the unholy.  Her accelerated movements make it clear that she is fully prepared for the battle to come, and the slight upturn of her lips indicate her pleasure at this.  Kyree, whose sharp eyes note the symbol of Kiaransalee on a platinum chain tucked into the neck of her armor, shouts, “Priestess!”

Kai clutches at her injured stomach.  “Really?”  It is unclear, perhaps even to her, if this is said in sarcasm or fear.

_Next: the fight gets ugly(-er).

*In the days of 2E, we used a fumble rule whereby melee characters tossed their weapons and ranged attacks struck someone else randomly.  For some reason, that someone else was nearly always Kai when it came to Kyree’s arrows.  This, as might be imagined, had a profound effect on their relationship._


----------



## htetickrt (Sep 17, 2004)

Vampire Smackdown I​
A tense moment passes as the two groups glare at each other.  The vampires, whose gazes carry their own enchantment, come out the better.  Calla’s already delicate mind breaks under the strain, and she goes over to their side.  Obeying Trella’s order to flank the priestess provides her an opportunity to do so without making her defection obvious.

The druid pays her little mind.  “Stay still!” she cries to the goblins before walling them and the new enemies off into two separate regions with stone.

Andy mutters, “Whoa.  Hot and powerful.”  She glances around, sees an opportunity to retreat, and takes it with an impressive display of acrobatics.  A quick sprint takes her to Buttercup’s location, where the half-orc has been chained to the wall with iron manacles.  It also takes her into range of an injured vampire, whose rapier takes advantage of her surprise. Blood blossoms incarnadine across her tunic.

Back in the main room, Calla slides around the stone wall with eerie grace, focusing her vision on the platinum-haired man who lays hands upon Danek.  Two steps take her into range; a flick of the wrist plunges a dagger into the wizard’s neck, just nicking the jugular.  She is gone in an instant, but a startled and bloody Lenara notes her identity with shock.

Danek is barely cognizant of this new development, as she has only had eyes for the drow engaging Kai since that barbarian entered the room.  Working herself into a blind rage, Danek charges around the stone wall, interposes herself between Kai and the enemy barbarian, and nearly slices off one of the drow’s arms with a mighty hack of her longsword.  The two trade snarls at close range.

Quid smiles at her bravery.  Getting into the moment, the Waukeenar blasts the last vampire in the room with her wand again while screaming, “Commie bastard!”  Rhien’s fists and Kai’s missiles finish it off.

Kyree grumbles, “Shhh.”  The elf listens intently near the wall blocking off the high priestess, waiting for her return.  His patience is rewarded by the sound of heavy boots approaching.  He raises his bow, arrow at the ready, in preparation for a sudden disappearance of the wall, but such does not occur.  Instead, the archer—and everyone else in the area—hear the smashing of metal against stone with awesome force.  With each of three hits a network of cracks begins to grow in the wall.  The fourth breaches the barrier, sending chunks of stone crashing to the ground around the opening.  Triumphantly looking through the breach, the drow opens her mouth to utter a word so vile to the ear that all goodly creatures would be stunned into inactivity.

She never gets the chance.  Kyree’s arrow flies true, passing through shields of fire and chaotically swirling energies to lodge above her left breast.  Surprised by the affront to her person, she cannot maintain her concentration and loses the evil magic to the Weave.

Perhaps feeling her mistress’ pain, the drow barbarian’s anger deepens.  Pushing past Danek, she drives the blade of her greatsword into Kai’s left arm.  The sorceress grits her teeth, but thanks Tymora for small favors when the drow’s body provides sufficient shielding to spare her from the volley of acidic spittle that comes her and Kyree’s way next, courtesy of the quth-maren.

Khail advances on them, sword at the ready, but he is turned aside by some invisible force before coming into melee range.  Cerridwin’s summoned swarm makes the boundary of this effect clear: Wasps circle the priestess at a radius of ten feet, unable to close.

The giants, forgotten by all, ignore this new wrinkle.  Massive greatclubs bludgeon the quth-maren, turning two to pulp.  Trella cheers them as she rushes to Kai's aid.  "Yeah!  Smash the agents of your former masters!"  She adds, "SOMEONE FIND CALLA!" before her transformation into a dire bear renders her unable to speak.

Cerridwin, perhaps feeling a new kinship to the druid in his new satyr form, obeys, but he can do little to stop her.  Lenara looks down on him from the wall he has scaled, lamenting the loss of his companion’s humanity while he chugs a healing draught.

With Trella’s massive ursine form completely blocking the drow barbarian’s approach, Kai finally returns her attention to the priestess.  The words of an abjuration form on her lips, only to turn into a gurgle as Calla slips up behind her and plunges a dagger into her kidney.  Coughing blood, Kai steadfastly tries again.  Upon her success, she makes haste toward the hallway, where her safety is compromised by Andy’s losing battle against a vampire.  “This is turning out to be a very bad day,” she murmurs.

The drow priestess, Dorina T’sarran, isn’t having a much better one.  With the vanishing of her anti-life shell, the troublesome adventurers are free to assault her directly; worse, that damned archer and the priest of that insipid trade goddess are waiting for her next prayer.  Trusting her defenses she attempts to get it off anyway, but once again a wound due to Kyree’s arrow disrupts it.  “You will die, elf, and serve me for eternity!” she snarls.

Kyree retorts “Bring it on, drow.”  He congratulates himself for his improved repartee.

Sadly no one hears it.  The battle raging around the elves is as chaotic as the soul of a drow, and equally as violent.  Barbarians rage, stone giants smash, quth-maren spit, and noble guards stab in a brutal cacophony of rending flesh.  Trella the bear punctuates the exchange by digging both claws into the drow barbarian’s sides, lifting her off the ground, and biting down hard on her shoulder.  The dominated female’s screams echo across the chamber.  Kai shudders and transports herself and Andy away before they end up in a similar position with the vampires.

Their absence seems to degrade matters further, and the melee closes in on both Kyree and Dorina.  The former is stabbed repeatedly by the rapiers of the noble guards; the latter is assaulted with little effect by Rhien and Danek.  Along the way, the monk is stabbed in the back by Calla, but he does not falter, nor does he fall when Dorina nearly caves in his head with a single blow.

The priestess remembers who has been the greatest threat, however, and has her minions carry out desires she cannot.  Having already surrounded Kyree, the noble guards display deadly precision in taking the elf apart.  Steel flashes out faster than he can dodge, puncturing his legs and driving him to his knees.  Helpless, he watches the nearly-erotic pleasure gained by his enemy as the vampire ever-so-slowly drives his blade through a gap in Kyree’s chain shirt and into his heart.  Perhaps he would have gained some consolation in the disappointed look that a second guard exhibits upon noting that his own blade’s deft trip into Kyree’s brainstem comes too late, but the archer is dead before the first weapon is withdrawn.  Dorina’s howl as Kyree’s body strikes the earth is unabashedly exuberant.

Trella roars in anger at the sudden loss of her friend.  The great dire bear tears off both of the barbarian’s arms, bites off her head, and spits the vacantly staring orb at the nearest vampire before drinking deeply of the drow’s fading life.  When she has her fill, the body is dropped carelessly on top of its severed arms, and Trella goes in search of a new victim.  Off in the other room, vampires unknowingly mimic the druid’s actions on the helpless Buttercup, drinking deeply of his lifeblood.

The sight of naked violence against a drow awakens something deep within Lenara, and he grows bold in his perch.  Spying Calla skulking below him, the wizard abandons caution and dives upon her.  Cold steel from the preternaturally-aware halfling penetrates his arm, but sheer momentum manages to take her down to the ground with him, at least for a moment.

Rhien watches Dorina’s cold eyes linger on Kyree’s corpse, and he knows what must be done.  Feinting forward with his right fist, the monk spins out of the blow and executes a perfect back-flip that leaves him on one knee before Kyree’s body.  Still in motion, Rhien scoops up the elf and somersaults to the far end of the room with him in tow.  There he lays hands upon the archer, calling upon the mightiest of gifts his gloves grant to restore life and health to Kyree fully.  With unmatched speed, Kyree’s physical form is completely restored.  His soul, having barely traveled from his body, quickly returns from its nascent trek to the Outer Planes, and the elf returns to awareness with a gasp and a cough.

Danek notices none of this, as her full attention is focused on the priestess.  Dorina is unimpressed.  “What are you going to do with that thing, little half-breed?” she mocks.

“I cut you good before.”  Danek’s rage gives her strength.

“And you were burned,” Dorina retorts, referring to the action of her fire shield.  “And lucky.  You will fail, and you will all die.”  She begins to pray.

Danek brings her enchanted blade down, as hard and as accurately as she can muster.  It descends, aimed squarely at the vampire’s clavicle…and deflects off of her many-layered protections.  Dorina’s fangs, exposed when she grins, glint evilly in the dim light afforded by the party’s lantern.  “I told you so,” she says, and flames blanket the room.

Cerridwin and Lenara share a glance before awareness ends in the instant incineration of their bodies.  Others survive, though their pain is made all the greater for it.  Danek, blistered and nearly blinded by tears, turns again on Dorina, but the laughing priestess is gone, hidden behind the ruined stone wall.  Danek charges after, but again cannot land her blow.  Dorina’s wounds fade, and she looks at the barbarian hungrily.

The stone giants lose their taste for the battle and flee, bowling over a hiding Andy in their haste to escape.  Khail ignores them, slashing at vampire guards in a flurry of steel that turns one to gas.

Kyree glares hatefully at those remaining.  “This is for killing me!” he shouts, a rather poor retort until it is backed up with a stunning display of marksmanship.  Remaining prone, the archer takes a vampire’s eye with his first arrow, its knee with his second, and finally its heart with his third.  The last is fired with such terrible force that it actually carries the organ out the other end, sending the vampire to join its nebulous fellow.

Kai and Andy choose this moment to emerge from the mist.  The latter moves to aid Buttercup, who continues to be drained by the vampires, while the former launches another abjuration.  Though Andy’s ineffectual punch only earns her a chuckle, Kai’s spell has a far greater impact, banishing several standing spells from the region.

This includes the local darkness, allowing the glow from Quid’s stone to shine through and blind the nearest vampires.  It also includes the force dominating Calla, and the halfling answers her release with a scream that would shatter glass, were any present.  She charges wildly into the room, looking for foes; the apparent courage of both tiny halflings shames the stone giants into moving to Andy’s aid.

Despite their visual impediment, the noble guards trade blows with the group’s warriors in a continuation of the wild scrum.  At the end of the first volley, Khail is down, but Trella has taken a vampire’s unlife in revenge.  Thankfully for everyone’s future nightmares, she doesn’t try to eat it as well after ripping it to pieces.

Kai blasts the remaining guard in the main room with force missiles; these and Calla’s dagger are sufficient to eliminate it.  Continuing on, she passes through the breach in the wall to join Danek; yet another abjuration evens the playing field.  Rhien’s successful jump kick heralds the speedy monk’s presence an instant later.  Danek, emboldened, slices through undead flesh with her own attack.

Dorina snarls her displeasure, breaking several of Rhien’s ribs with her retaliatory strikes.  Glaring at Kai, she then steps back into utter blackness.

The sorceress waits for Quid to advance, but she is busy restoring consciousness to the paladin.  Khail rises with a grunt and immediately imparts his torn body with healing magic; Trella, in similarly bad shape, reverts to her normal form and slumps against the broken stone.  She is flanked by a quite cautious Kyree.

Calla leaves them, looking for a more immediate kill.  She finds it where Andy is, leaping over the poor monk’s body as she is pounded to the ground by a noble guard, ashen-faced and bleeding heavily.  “Pick on someone your own size!” she screeches, completely missing the irony.  The sole remaining stone giant—the others having already succumbed to the vampires’ fists—goggles at her.

Quid finally arrives on the scene, illuminating the drow priestess in faux-daylight.  The massed group does not hesitate to take advantage, lessening the force animating her with magic, fist, and blade.  Knowing she cannot stand against the assault here, Dorina turns to mist with a feral snarl and flies off down the darkened passageway, quickly entering a small hole in the ceiling ten feet away.

Khail passes through the arch, glances around, and asks, “Where did she go?”  Kai suppresses a scream.


----------



## Jeremy (Sep 17, 2004)

Well, they did better than my team.


----------



## htetickrt (Sep 17, 2004)

Jeremy said:
			
		

> Well, they did better than my team.




What happened to them?

Anyway, it's not over yet.  By my count, I've only written up less than half the deaths due to Dorina.  That was a nasty combat, though not as bad as the upcoming showdown with Solom.

By the way, I was checking out your story hour and liked it.  Plus, the pictures were really impressive.  Why did you stop posting?


----------



## Jeremy (Sep 17, 2004)

Too much work. I've got day by day notes in game time to pick it back up at some point, but too much work to prep for the game, go to work, and write those huge updates.

As for how they did, Titus, Elayne, and half the party got killed by Dorina, Zedarr, and Ripper who had barricaded themselves in Dorina's chamber. It was ugly...


----------



## htetickrt (Sep 20, 2004)

Jeremy said:
			
		

> Too much work. I've got day by day notes in game time to pick it back up at some point, but too much work to prep for the game, go to work, and write those huge updates.




I hear you.  Same reason it's taking me far longer than expected to get these updates out.  I started writing my notes up more completely around part 3 of the adventure though, so once I get there things should go more smoothly.



			
				Jeremy said:
			
		

> As for how they did, Titus, Elayne, and half the party got killed by Dorina, Zedarr, and Ripper who had barricaded themselves in Dorina's chamber. It was ugly...




Ouch, that sounds tough, EL-wise.  My players are at the climax of part 3 right now, and the remaining defenders of the castle are barricaded behind a door themselves. I think it's EL 24 or 25 in there right now.  That should be a fun battle.


----------



## htetickrt (Sep 24, 2004)

Vampire Smackdown II: Dorina T’sarran​
Though exhausted, Trella takes charge.  “Down the hall, but go save Andy first.  Before she becomes something even stranger than she is now.”  The druid heals herself after she gives her orders, sighing as her heartbeat slows a bit from its frantic pace.

Kyree obliges, reaching Calla’s position with alacrity.  A few arrows convince the vampires that discretion is the better part of continuing a meal later, and both flee in gaseous form immediately, though one does manage to kick Andy’s body before leaving.

Most of the others arrive soon after, just in time to heal Andy back to awareness.  The monk awakens with a start, looks around nervously, and crawls to the wall.  With less than her usual attitude, she mutters, "What a freaking mess."

Unlike the rest of the group, Khail moves through the double doors to the north, waiting for the return of the priestess.  He refuses to be caught unaware by her "dastardly evil" as his internal monologue puts it.

Meanwhile, Buttercup rattles his chains, showing more animation than he had since being dominated.  "Let me out!" he cries pitifully.

Seeing the vampires gone and still desirous of a good smashing, the stone giant stomps over to Buttercup and lays into the chains twice.  The sheer strength of the large humanoid is sufficient to break the manacles, and Buttercup tumbles to the ground.  Before anyone can go to him, the half-orc raises his head, bloodshot eyes wide and staring.  "They shouldn’t hear us!" he half-shouts, half-whines, and speaks words of magic that render the area completely devoid of sound.

Watching Buttercup warily, Kyree nocks an arrow and waits for a return of the vampires.  Trella leaves the region, gesturing for the remaining stone giant to follow.  Once free to speak, she heals him with a prayer, adding her profound thanks for his efforts.  He grunts his acceptance, though proves unwilling to nursemaid the goblins, despite the druid’s subsequent request.

Quid drags Andy over to her, restoring the monk’s abilities with a prayer of her own.  “What now?” she asks, as all save Buttercup and Khail gather around.

Trella sighs tiredly.  Pointing to Kyree, she orders, “Find out if Buttercup’s still dominated—I don't care how—and keep him from doing anything rash.”  As an after thought, she adds, "Please."  To Calla, she says, “Scout for coffins, secret doors, or trouble, and, though it may be hard not to, do not engage anything you find that fights back; return and report it to us.”  Andy thanks Quid and pads off after his fellow halfling.

To Quid, Kai, and Rhien, she says wearily, "First and foremost, we need Dobi back.  Not that I miss the little freakzilla, but frankly, another body could make all the difference here.  Second, we're hurting and I'm betting those vampires are just regrouping for another go 'round with us.  I'm seriously pissed off and want to summon some more earth elementals to go on a holy tear, but that's not exactly a well-thought-out plan I have there so I need some input.  Oh, and if it turns out Buttercup is much friendlier with vampires, we'll need to deal with that, too, and I don't have any helpful magic there.  We also need some healing."

Quid ponders for a second, "I do miss indeed miss the little Dobster very much, and I have some new spells I'd love to try out on some vampire butt, but I feel we should press our advantage while we have it. We have them on the run. If we let her misty holiness off the hook for another day, she'll come back with all her spell protections again. I suggest we heal up here and press the attack, though perhaps in a more careful manner.  As in we send Calla ahead, and can keep track of her with detection.  Let’s see if we can dispatch the priestess before she can regroup.

Unless maybe there are bigger baddies down the hall that she has fled to, in which case, perhaps we should regroup." Quid shrugs somewhat indecisively.

"Okay, sounds like as good a plan as any.  Let's see what we're up against.  Calla, get back here."  The rogue pads back, with Andy in tow.  Her initial frustration over being called back fades rapidly upon realizing she is being called to make renewed contact.  So much so, in fact, that Trella feels it necessary to caution her not to overstep her mandate.

"But protection is a matter for local security," the halfling whines.  "Investigation is implied in my mandate."

"Whatever," Trella says with a sigh.

Calla pads off again, this time without Andy in tow.  As she makes for the outer ring of the House Morcane level, the rest of the group turns to healing.  All save Buttercup, that is, who remains sulking in a corner.  His continued reticence to act normally—or at least less weirdly than he is presently—is a continued source of worry, and eventually Kai determines to do something about it.  Subtly-cast magic indicates an enchantment aura around the half-orc, and Kai’s shoulders sag.  After backing away as nonchalantly as she can manage, she conveys the situation to Khail in a whisper.

The paladin, as is his wont, abandons subtlety as he draws his blade and approaches Buttercup.  “No one is going to hurt you,” he says, unconvincingly.

Buttercup whimpers and backs away himself; Khail approaches boldly.  For his trouble, he receives a ray of searing light to the chest, answering the group’s remaining questions definitively.

Khail booms, “Begone foul domination!” and invokes the abjuring power of his blade.  Buttercup draws his greataxe; Kai indicates that the domination remains.

The paladin tries again, this time removing the silence radius.  This apparently causes Buttercup great emotional anguish, as he charges Khail in a fury.  His axe swing is horribly wild, however, and connects with nothing but air.

“Do not make this more difficult, friend Buttercup,” Khail patronizes.  A third abjuration fails.  Buttercup cries, “Leave me alone, human!” and hacks out a gouge of paladin-flesh.

Khail begins to grow frustrated.  “Come on, now, just sit still.”  More failures follow, along with three more axe wounds that leave the floor slick with blood.  “Argh!” he moans.

Rhien tumbles in, kicking up at the half-orc’s axe.  His aim is true, and the weapon is knocked clean out of Buttercup’s hands.  Undeterred, the cleric leaps at Khail and attempts to grapple with him.  The stronger, more experienced paladin easily pushes him away.  “Get out of his brain you doomed evil thing!” he screams, and the domination fails.

Buttercup’s face untwists, and he begins to weep.  "Wha—what happened?   Oh no!  I'm so sorry.  So sorry…."  The half-orc retreats back to the corner.

Calla returns then, looking dejected.  “Nothing there.  No drow flesh to skewer.”

Trella goggles at her.  “You’re really starting to disturb me.”  Before she can say more, Dorina reasserts her presence from afar.  Khail, on the periphery, is assaulted by the sudden appearance of a spectre; those closer to the middle of the room are forced to dive in all directions to avoid a whirling mass of razor-sharp blades that just as abruptly manifests.

Of all the companions, Kyree has the easiest time evading the barrier, and he rolls to his feet and has an arrow ready for the spectre while most others are still sprawled ungainly across the cold stone floor.  Unfortunately, this narrow focus leaves him open to the unexpected, which here takes the form of coruscating negative energy that threatens his very existence.  The elf grits his teeth, and fires true.

Rhien watches the spectre’s recoil, but can spare it no more attention, thanks to the enemy forces now arrayed in the eastern doorway.  The monk rebounds off of the far wall, flips in the air, and skims the ceiling as he charges.  The intent of his action is clear—someone must take the brunt of the assault while the party regroups—and Rhien conveys as much to Trella with a glance back.

Trella reacts instantly, screaming at those inside the blade barrier, "GET OUT, GET OUT OF THERE!"

The message doesn’t need to be repeated, and a mad rush of bodies exits the chamber to join Khail in the archway.  On the way, Andy yells at Buttercup, "No time for tears, we NEED you, Butters!" which earns her a look, a loud snuffle, and the lumbering approach of the burly priest.

Next to her, Quid groans, wondering not for the first time what she has gotten herself into by joining this odd band.  Nevertheless she acts with resolve, placing a blade barrier of her own across the eastern entrance.  The metal cuts into the huge spiders in front, but its action on those shielded by the arachnids is less easily discernable.  Soon after, the blades vanish, a victim of Kai’s attempt to remove all impediments to rushing Dorina.  The drow’s answering cackle grates on both women; her flame strike has a more tangible effect, leaving most present badly burned.

Rhien seeks her out, but is foiled by a deep darkness that blankets the passage.  “If we don’t get her soon, she’ll destroy us from a distance!” he shouts, uncharacteristically perturbed.  Supporting his urgency, he exhausts the power of his boots to heal the party fully.

The party is stymied from following the monk’s advice, however, by the continued reluctance of Dorina’s magic to succumb to abjurations.  Eventually the group gives up; Trella flits over to the corridor in the form of a hummingbird, while Kai takes those she can on a short inter-dimensional jaunt.  Rhien scoops up the stragglers and flies them over.

“Finally, the battle is joined!” Khail cries boldly, as his comrades file in behind him.  “Let evil quake before us!”  For a moment it seems to do just that, as the paladin’s training permits him to strike with skill when others could only flail.  Two spiders fall to his charge, and, when the light of Quid’s stone cancels the darkness itself, Danek’s rage slaughters the third.

Unfortunately for the holy warrior, the arachnids were more shield than defender of the doughty Dorina.  With a word green fire immolates Khail, and when it passes all that remains of him are dust and clattering armor.

Quid screams in horror, and lashes out with holy fire to scorch the drow.  Calla’s blade adds acid to the mix, and Andy’s siangham sends the spectre back to oblivion.  For her trouble she is nearly stabbed to death.

Trella flies to the fore and resumes her own shape; standing by her side Kyree releases a storm of arrows that strike with stunning accuracy.  Three send a vampire to dust; the fourth sails through the spreading mist to embed itself in the priestess’s neck.

Kai acknowledges Kyree’s display grimly as she arrives, firing off a pair of fireballs at the two remaining drow.  Dorina’s focus is on Kyree as well, though hers is far less benign.  Finding his offensive prowess to far exceed his defensive ability, she swiftly crushes his resistance with her potent will.  Making sure that the elf’s behavior shows no measure of this, she quietly retreats from the battle, joined by the last noble guard of House Morcane.

Kyree makes as if to follow, and then turns smoothly on his heels to face Kai.  Her back provides a tempting target to the elf’s controller, and it soon becomes home to four of Kyree’s best arrows.  Stunned, Kai reels in shock, spinning to face her assailant in anger.  Luckily for them both, Quid is ready with the appropriate magic, and a touch delivers freedom for the archer.  Freedom from domination, that is, not from the look of reproach the frequently-targeted Kai cannot help but give, nor from the near-homicidal gaze of the raging Danek.  Anger and remorse alternately color Kyree’s delicate features.

As this drama plays out, the others batter at the locked door that separates them from following after Dorina.  Calla slips in underneath them and deftly picks the lock.

Trella pushes open the door and screams, “Fan out and find her!”  Obeying, the band splits up, passing through ruined bedchambers and bare hallways in their quest.  Kyree ranges out ahead, both to avoid recrimination and escape his noisy comrades, and so he is the first to hear the coming of the noble guard.  A call to Quid brings light to illuminate the vampire, and Danek and Buttercup charge in unison to bring steel.  Kyree tries to add fletched wood, but after his first arrow lodges in Buttercup’s behind, the elf sadly puts down his bow.

Kai picks up the slack, boring ten holes in the guard, and he quickly reverts to mist to escape more punishment.  Trella slams her staff into the wall as the gas passes, cursing the small holes that provide such convenient escape routes for the vampires.

Calla releases a far more virulent curse after not arriving to the action fast enough, and immediately goes to work on the next locked door.  This lock also falls quickly to her skill, and the halfling is storming through a lavishly-furnished room before the door is fully opened, determined not to miss out again.  The rest of the group follows behind, catching up only when Calla is forced to halt at ornate double doors.  They find her examining the woodwork closely.

Trella is in no mood for such attention to detail.  “Open them!” she screams, somewhat shrilly.

“Could be a trap,” Calla huffs.

“Then get rid of it.”

“I said could; I haven’t found anything, but the damned drow are deviously diabolical.”

“Just open it then.  Everyone else get back.”  The druid stands her ground with the rogue, in case anyone is waiting just inside the portal.

Calla masterfully picks the well-worked lock for the third time in a row and turns the handle on the door.  As she does so, flames sear the pair, and both are forced to dive away from the portal.  They start to struggle to their feet, but are again sent sprawling by a second column of fire, which this time encompasses all those present.  Buttercup’s body, untouched by the healing prayers he freely bequeathed to others, has had enough, and it fails under the onslaught.  The half-orc’s body fades into insubstantiality while the lingering stench of charred flesh provides an odious counterpoint to the fell chamber past the doors.

Kyree pushes aside thoughts of the growing cost in lives, ignores the majestic dark tapestries depicting unspeakable horrors that hang above long tables of gleaming black wood, and concentrates fully on the unmistakable drow woman draped casually across a throne of bones.  The missiles that fly from his bow are soon joined by Kai’s enchanted variety, but none appear to have the slightest effect.  Quid analyzes the data and comes to a simple conclusion: illusion.  True sight confirms her estimation, revealing the true Dorina standing below the throne inside of a false column, though convincing the others of this proves difficult.

Once they realize the truth, however, the battle once again descends into chaos.  With so many ready to disrupt her spells, Dorina is forced to adopt more aggressive tactics, and blows from both sides are dealt with reckless abandon.  Even without Khail’s strength, such a scrum favors the party, and inexorably—though not without serious injury—they wear away at the vampires.  Finally, with a slash and an arrow, both turn to gas.  Dorina, so vocal earlier, vanishes into another room without a whisper.

Calla, on the other hand, cackles madly and unleashes a string of invective that makes even Trella’s ears burn.  She is almost thankful when Kai’s warning that the vampire’s crypt has not yet been found gives the rogue pause.  Trella uses the break to order the others to search.

Danek snarls, trying hard to maintain the anger that supports her continued consciousness, and storms off to slam the butt of her longsword against the walls.  Despite her passion, it is Quid’s enhanced sight that picks out the hidden door, and Calla’s skill that pries it open.

A moment’s glance into the revealed room yields the prize—a stone sepulcher covered in gorgeous, shining copper leaf—as well as the unwelcome presence of a dozen skeletons, all holding up one foot.  These cause little fear in the seasoned group, but their intent was not to engage in a hopeless combat.  Instead they all put their feet down with awful synchronicity, triggering Dorina’s final defense: another deadly blade barrier.

Shards of bone fly outward, as the expanding radius shreds the minor undead.  Kyree, Kai, Calla, and Rhien sprint at the wave’s edge, barely diving to safety in time, but their friends are not so lucky.  Quid, bleeding heavily from numerous slashes across the midsection, is slammed against the opposite wall like a discarded toy.  Trella, made of sturdier stuff but taxed beyond even her limit, is knocked to the earth, her consciousness fading with each spurt of blood.  Andy and Danek fare even worse, though their end is relatively painless as the two are instantly beheaded.  They vanish before their empty bodies can join Trella under the blades; an answering mist passes from Quid’s bag as they pass out of the room, and out of the story.

Though the loss will be felt later, the group is not yet out of danger, and only Kai’s quick reaction and ready telekinesis save Trella from a similar fate.  Once her limp form has been dragged out of the barrier, Quid restores a measure of health with one of her few remaining spells.

The druid moans as she comes back to herself.  “How long do we have left before the bitch returns?”

Kai answers, “Less than an hour.”

“No good; the barrier will be around longer than that.  Can you dispel it?”

Kai grimaces.  “I’ve got one shot at it, but I haven’t had the best of luck in the past.”

Kyree pulls back his bowstring.  “Let me try; I may get lucky.”  The archer summons an arrow of dispelling and lets it fly, but the blades do not vanish.  He slumps his shoulders in defeat.

Rhien takes flight, looking profoundly guilty about something.  “I can fly over the blades and try to open the coffin. I am unhurt.”

Trella looks like she is going to say something, but thinks better of it.  Finally she suggests, “Take Calla with you.  There may be more traps.”  The halfling responds enthusiastically, eager to do whatever harm she can to her hated foe.  Rhien picks her up gingerly and conveys her to the coffin; Calla foils another trap with a calm focus that belies her slightly deranged aspect.  Rhien’s fists do the rest, breaking the copper bands holding on the lid, and sending the carved stone to shatter against the blade barrier.  Flecks of stone spiral in every direction, but cause no permanent harm.

Rhien drags Dorina from her rest, and brings her to his companions.  Once there she is assailed by every manner of vampire-slaying tactic available, eventually resulting in both her demise and a floor soaked with holy water. 

This proves enough for Trella, and the druid slides down the wall into the puddle.  “Someone should search the area,” she mutters, and puts her head in her hands.  “And find the others.”  Calla, still oddly enthused, volunteers, accompanied by Rhien.

The two don’t take long to return, she with a set of golden chess pieces, he with the requested news.  Trella ignores her appraisal of their worth, focusing on her fallen comrades.  “Any sign of what the little buggers turned into this time?  I’m guessing Andy’s a kumquat.”

Rhien shakes his head grimly.  “No, none.  In fact, I don’t even see their belongings, which used to fall to the ground when they changed.  And the mist is gone entirely.”

“Any other ways out?”

“Just the ladders up.”

“Might as well check out the front, now that we’re healed up all pretty.”

“The goblins will be happy to see us; they’re scared witless in the center of the maelstrom.  Steve and the stone giant are still out there too.”

Kai rolls her eyes at their mention.  Kyree pulls up short after examining a bone scrollcase he found.  “Hey, I found a letter in Elven,” he announces, and begins to read:

‘Daughter:
	Our Dark Lady favors my efforts, and my research proceeds well.  Within five tendays, perhaps six, all will be ready for the Day of Great Vengeance.  The Spider-Queen is dead; we have already brought low the Spider-kissers and seized our rightful place in the realms of the dark.  Now the Day draws near when we shall avenge ourselves upon those of the day-blasted lands, too, and achieve that ultimate triumph denied us so long ago.
	While I prepare my Great Revenance, it falls to you to make ready the way.  Harry the surface-dwellers, hunt them in their woods and fields, and take the measure of their strength.  Do not concern yourself with putting them on their guard; Our Lady desires their blood, their fear, and their dreadful anticipation of our ultimate act of revenge.  With each slaying we grow in her favor and sow the seeds of our coming victory.
	If they come against you in Szith Morcane in irresistible strength, slay as many as you can.  Withdraw from the fight if you must, and bring Zedarr with you, but as for the rest—they are to stand and die for the glory of the White Banshee.  The battle for Szith Morcane will come to nothing when our Great Revenance comes to pass.  If anything, our final vengeance is made ever sweeter by each fleeting, false hope our enemies entertain before it falls upon them.
	Work great slaughter for our Lady’s dark glory, my daughter Dorina.  Soon I will come to you from Maerimydra with such dark and terrible might that all of Faerun will tremble before us.

	Mother’”

At its conclusion, Kai moans, barely suppressing a scream of frustration.  Calla’s eyes gleam wickedly.  “Does this mean we’re off to kill more drow?” she asks enthusiastically.  The others ignore her.

Rhien retrieves a second scrollcase from Dorina’s coffin.  “There’s a rough map of the surrounding Underdark here, with a marked trail leading to Maerimydra and markers for places of interest.”

Trella asks, “Can we teleport to the city?”

Quid shakes her head.  “Too risky.  Faerzress—a magical radiation—fills the Underdark and makes scrying difficult and teleportation dangerous.  With only a rough map to guide us, we may as well deliberately teleport into solid rock.”

“We just have all the luck, don’t we,” Trella grumbles, before leading the diminished group back to the blade barrier.  Rhien and Quid ferry all over, and then carry the remaining goblins across, kicking and screaming all the way.  Devoid of any rational thought, they run screaming toward the entrance, several falling into the chasm below in their haste to escape.  Kai and Kyree both glare at them.

As the group follows behind more slowly, all halt on Quid’s mark a dozen feet from the exit to the level.  The cleric, still gifted with superior vision, says through clenched teeth, “We have company.  It’s the archmage.”  Unshed tears gather in her eyelid, threatening to fall.

Trella exclaims, “Oh goody.  I wonder what he wants.”

The drow wizard inclines his head slightly.  “You have done well in destroying Dorina, but you are not yet done with our deal.  There is one more priest with power here, residing in the fane of Lolth above.  You must destroy her as well.  Once you have done this and paid me my remaining gold for the slaves, your debt to me will be repaid.”


----------



## hobz (Sep 26, 2004)

ah, Dobi's futile mack attempts, with Calla and "A-lo" good times. It's been so long I had forgotten. Also useful for backstory. We've come quite a long way.

(Dobi/Quid's player)
ben


----------



## htetickrt (Oct 1, 2004)

The Arrogance of the Archmage​
Quid reaches her breaking point with the archmage’s callous words, and dark thoughts coalesce abruptly into rage.  "Look you cryptic fancypants ****, we'll pay you your ****ing money!  You could have been a little more forthcoming with information and help instead of sneering your pretty boy face while sitting on your wussy ass. We'll get to the other priestess when we're damn well good and ready.  Our deal has no specification of time, so shut the **** up.  I… I….”

Quidlyn slowly unclenches her fists, leaving behind angry red marks in her palms.  The tension of her arms relaxing, she slowly looks to the survivors, pointedly avoiding the archmage.  "I'm sorry.  That was stupid, I…."  Angry with herself for her weakness, Quid rushes past the archmage to exit the level.

Trella stares at her as she passes, at a loss.  She drags over a goblin corpse and takes a load off in order to collect her thoughts.

Kai, whose lower lip has been trembling for several minutes, pulls herself together after sympathetically watching Quid's departure.  Suppressing the tremors by compressing her lips past the point of whiteness, she finally turns to face the archmage with all the poise she can muster.  "A priestess of Kiaransalee in the Fane of Lloth?  A likely story.  We have paid for your failure to provide substantive aid by the loss of several friends.  We consider our original deal satisfied."  She watches the mage carefully through narrowed eyes, ready to dole out a passel of teleports at a moment's notice.

As Kai speaks, Quid discovers that she is going nowhere, by foot anyway.  A horde of sleeping goblins lies sprawled out along an invisible wall extending from under the exit to the chasm, likely sealing it off until the archmage is done speaking.  He notes Quid's acknowledgement of this with a smirk, visible only to her.

Her escape stymied by the invisible wall, Quid sits down dejectedly amidst the goblins.

"Are we finished with the theatrics now, or should I summon a playwright to record the melodrama for posterity?" he says in an amused tone, with a slight edge to it.  "The deal, as you agreed to it, made no mention of the White Lady or the Spider Queen, but merely required the elimination of all priests.  There is one more in the fane above.  The gold, obviously, is in payment for the slaves, who are useless to me now.  I was forced to have them put to sleep merely to silence their endless howling.  I will buy back the stone giant for a quarter of what you paid, if you so desire."

The stone giant narrows his eyes, but makes no movement, apparently sufficiently afraid so as to dull his bloodlust.  The archmage continues in a harsher voice.  "As for my aid, without it only a fraction of you would have made it to the battle with Dorina, and those that did would have surely been destroyed.  You owe me your lives, insolent worms, and you are lucky that I do not take what I am due now."

Calming, Solom concludes, "But perhaps you are broken, no longer able to finish what you have begun.  Very well.  I offer you an alternative bargain. You keep your gold and can depart.  All save you, that is."  Solom points at Rhien.  "You possess potent magic that you should not have, and I would learn its secrets.  If you are made my possession, I will consider the deal completed."

Kai fails to restrain herself at this.  "We were to provide you with control of this outpost.  We have removed all opposition but one priest.  We consider any debt for your so-called aid completely repaid.  If the archmage of Szith Morcane is incapable of dealing with a single cleric on his own, perhaps he should reconsider his pretensions."

The mage replies lightly, "Ah, another emotional response.  It is for this reason that women should not rule.  I have been more than generous with this alternative offer.  You may take either, or you may pit your combined might against my own, and see first hand my power."

Rhien lays a gentle hand on Kai's shoulder.  "If we do not believe we can safely face the priestess above, then I will surrender.  I do not believe it would be wise to face the archmage at this juncture."  The monk is outwardly calm, but there is a slight eagerness in his eyes that is disturbing to those who know him.

"No!" ejaculates Quid. "Absolutely not. I will not make any more deals with you Solom, and never any that involve the trade of sentient life."

Quid picks herself up off the ground, brushing the dirt off her well-tailored leggings, before turning to face the archmage once more.  Having somewhat collected herself, Quid flies up to look Solom in the eye and continues very deliberately, "I will abide by the terms of the gold deal Solom, out of my own funds if need be.  I gave my word, and the debt will be paid in due course. The other priestess we will also deal with, at the time of our choosing. But you have no right to keep us here. If you are to be of no help, then leave us and our charges be."  She gestures vaguely over to the goblins. "We will find you as necessary."

Near simultaneous with Quid’s response, Trella jumps to her feet.  Visibly willing calm into her personal turmoil, the druid joins the party in facing the archmage.

"We are bent, sir, but not broken."  There is iron in her voice.  "Pursuant with existing agreements, I do no explicitly recall a timetable in the original, or amended, agreements.  Perhaps there was an implied time frame on your part, but being the civilized… thi—archmage that you are, I am certain you are intimately familiar with contracts, fair expectations of mutual reciprocity frameworks and the need for… shall we say, fully delineated terms prior to consummation of all oral agreements?  Therefore, being reasonable… individuals, you and we, I propose that you give us sufficient time to heal, replenish spells, relinquish extra equipment, mourn, and do whatever else is necessary to prepare to complete our duly agreed upon work at a time of our convenience.  You will be paid the agreed recompense for your… property, and the final priestess will be slain.  It would be helpful if you could suggest an area where we could deliberate without needless interruptions that, given our… current state, could retard our progress."  Her final remark is sufficiently double-edged to make its meaning plain.  She thanks Kyree for inspiration for the legal-ese.

Kyree moans, “I just want to shoot things.”

After Quid's and Trella's near simultaneous elocutions, Solom responds, "I thought as much.  Very well.  I shall allow you to leave and return to complete your part of the bargain under two conditions.  One, you pay me the gold now for the slaves.  There is no reason to postpone this; I was merely being generous before, a mistake I shall not repeat in the future.  Two, you will sit idly by while I geas the insolent priest," he indicates Quid, "to return to complete her task within five days, which should be no hardship.  The geas should never come into play as long as you are truthful.

"That is my final offer.  I suggest you agree to it."

Quid concentrates hard on the archmage, but gleans nothing further.  Eyes boring into him, she says, "I see no reason why the deal should be modified. However, we can pay you the gold now as a show of good faith, but in return we first want all the information you can provide about the priestess and the powers the priestess serves. If it truly is your goal to bid rid of the priestess, this can only help you as well.

"As for the geas, I also do not see why I should submit to it. We had a deal Solom. That will suffice."

Solom sighs.  "Very well."  After the gold is given, he says, "The priestess is the last member of the old regime.  Before you get overemotional about this as well, you have no deal with her.  She is dead, a ghost.  Her rantings prevent my full control of the city.  I could dispose of her myself, but since you have agreed to do so I will let you."  Solom smirks.

"She is a servant of the Spider-Queen, and so will not threaten you with her brand of 'magic.'  You must thus only prepare yourselves for her ghostly assault.  I am sure the pious among you know more than I in this regard.  Or perhaps not, but I am finished speaking."

There is a pregnant pause as Quid continues to stare.  When she is done, Solom says, "I will dismiss the wall of force so that you may depart, but before I can do so I will give you a minute to retrieve your slumbering slaves.  Be quick about it."

Trella goes to the little guys and awakens them.  She begins herding them away from the barrier and tries as best she can to keep them from seeing Solom.  They struggle at first, so the druid changes shape into a dire bear.  Then they faint.  She enlists help to drag their unconscious forms back to solid ground.

Solom watches this impassively, looking slightly bored.  Quid attempts to ply him for information about the other drow faction. "In case we come across any of their minions, it would be useful to know what we are up against."

Solom responds simply, “There is no other faction.  The priestess is the last of her House, and she is dead.  A ghost.  There are no others.”

With an odd look on his face, he gestures for the wall to fall and says, “You will return within five days to finish your task.”  Quid starts as she realizes that the words were backed by magic.

“You son of a b*tch!” she cries, to which he merely responds, “Ta,” and vanishes.

Calla approaches Quid, “We’ll get him,” she says with conviction, and more than a little bloodlust.

Trella lets loose a great sigh as she reverts to her usual form.  After gesturing obscenely at the rough location formerly occupied by Solom, she wakes up the goblins.  Trella informs them of their purchased freedom and gives them, as well as the lone stone giant, permission to go back or wherever since they are basically free men/women/goblins/stone giant.  She urges them to decide as a group to go, wait for the party to complete its business, or whatever.  The stone giant she says would be a welcome addition to the upcoming fight, but he has the right to leave, too.

It takes a while and some translation for this all to sink in, but when it does the goblins bolt en masse.  Several fall screaming into the chasm, but most make it up the remains of the spiderweb and begin to ascend out of the crypt.  Kai and Kyree glare at them.  The stone giant gifts Trella with an, “Are you crazy?” look, and follows more slowly.

Rhien approaches Quid and gestures to the bag of holding, saying gently, “How much do you think what we have found is worth on the market?”

Quid recognizes the intellectual diversion for what it is but is nonetheless grateful for it.  She opens the enchanted sack and begins cataloguing its contents.  It takes only minutes for her to come up with a rough estimate of the total haul.  “One hundred fifteen thousand, more or less.  Add that to what we had, and divide by seven…” she momentarily pauses in sadness, before continuing, “and we each get around eighteen thousand gold.”

Rhien continues, “And how much do you think it would cost to obtain a true resurrection for Khail?”

Quid steeples her fingers as she thinks.  “Well, there’s obtaining the diamond, and finding a priest…I think I could get it for fifteen thousand or so, with some haggling.  I know some people in Athkatla who might be able to help.  Regardless, some of us should return there to regroup and resupply.”

Trella replies, “Let’s leave here first.”  All in agreement on that point, the party makes the slow trek up to ponder its next move.


----------



## htetickrt (Dec 24, 2004)

_So, it's been just short of three months since my last update.  My apologies to my readers, assuming I still have any.    The lull corresponded with a lull in the campaign from which the story arises.  We took a break right before the fourth part, and are still breaking, as of this writing.  Hopefully, this will spur us to start again.  I do plan on continuing to write more often, for what it's worth.  This particular installment covers the introduction of a new character/player, so if you've quite reasonably forgotten all that has gone before, there's a brief summary a little more than halfway through.  As an additional incentive to pick this up again, I've already written the next installment, and after I get done a few more, my notes become much more easily translatable to story hour form, for faster posting._

Erdrick of Cormyr and Alisannara Morcane​
Kyree mulls over purchases in his head for a time before interrupting the party's thoughtful silence.  "I have devised several alternatives for use of our gold and for raising Khail that we could discuss."

Trella's eyebrow rises reflexively.  "Oh, have you now?"

Kyree, as usual, misses the tone.  "Yes.  Would you like to hear them?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but why is it you always have alternatives when gold is involved?"

Kyree shrugs.  "It's easier.  When there are enemies, my mind goes blank and I just want to shoot them.  Spending gold has more options associated with it."

Trella looks surprised.  "I wasn't aware you had thought about this."

"I am more than meets the eye."

"Like a transformer?"

"A what?"

"You know, those elven toys that change form.  Seriously, the phrase is trademarked.  You could get into trouble."

Kyree whines, "Can I just give my alternatives?"

Trella mock bows.  "By all means, guv'nor."

The elf begins, but Quid cuts him off.  "Before you get going, maybe we should discuss the ridiculousness of a tri-metallic standard."

Kyree pouts.  "Now you're making fun of me."

"Would I do that?"  Quid is all innocence.

"How should I know?  I just met you a few days ago."

"Good point.  Anyway, I'll begin with the relative frequency of copper."

Kyree talks over her, spelling out the options, as he sees them.

Kai lets out a deep breath as he finishes.  "I guess there isn't a reason to come back and fight the archmage immediately.  I'll have to think about this more."

Kyree puffs out his chest.

"Hey, what about Dobi?" Trella asks suddenly, causing Quid to check her bag of holding.  Upon discovering his body is no longer there, she snaps it shut and cries, "Oh, Dobster!" breaking down momentarily.

Trella pats her shoulder awkwardly for the minute it takes her to collect herself.  Then Kai suggests, "Perhaps information on Solom's supporters would be helpful.  Powerful as he is, we could take him as a group if he were alone.  In any case, as long as our mission is changing from stopping raids to saving the world, it's true that the world would be better off without him."

The sorceress grins crookedly.  "You know, this is the point that Khail would nod and say something ridiculously naïve like 'Freedom's on the march.'"  She scrunches up her face.  "Are we sure we want him back?"  She's mostly kidding.  Steve whinnies angrily.

"Sorry guys," she adds, "it's just that I could do with a few days of R&R and shopping.  And maybe taking in a play or a show.  It's been a long time."

Trella shrugs.  "I wouldn't mind getting some natural light.  Another day underground and I'd become pale and even more surly than usual.  My concerns are like I said before, and the closer we get to the fifth day, the worse it will be for Quid, and we don't want to see Quid go insane and something equally awful."  She smiles awkwardly at her fellow priestess.

Kyree nods.  “Okay, so we'll wait five days for Rhien's boots to fully recharge, and we'll pay for Khail's resurrection.  Right?”

Quid agrees.  "But no more; there is that whole Revenance thing to worry about."

Kyree replies, "Huh?"  The rest of the trip passes in silence.

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

Trella resumes her own shape to greet the half of the party that had gone to Athkatla, vigorously shaking off the dirt that had clung to her lupine paws.  She greets Khail with a smirked “Welcome back, you big lug.”  Steve trots up to the paladin, nuzzling his majestic head against his face until Khail strokes it.

Khail apologizes for his failure against the priest, but Trella shakes him off.  “Nothing to be sorry for, big guy.”

Kyree, ever focused on his goals, inquires, “Did you get our stuff?”

Kai rolls her eyes—a gesture not devoid of affection—and helps to pass out hard earned magic.  Trella dons her new belt and promptly challenges everyone to arm wrestle.  Though she still loses to Khail, she feels the match was closer.  She even manages to convince Kyree to give it a try.  Upon beating the elf, she leaps to her feet, raises her arms, and begins saying, “I am the greatest!” over and over again.  Kyree resolves never to wrestle her again.

Trella has other plans, voiced as soon as she tires of her victory strut.  "We'll be here alone for a few days.  You know you like it."

Kyree grumbles, "No I don't.  Wrestle Rhien."

"He'll be watching the crypt.  And it's no fun to beat him anyway.  He just says 'good job' or something like that."

Kai laughs.  "You guys have fun.  I'm going to an opera."  Indeed she does, and has a marvelous time watching a passel of rotund people sing loudly in a language she doesn’t know.  Khail, from his position three rows back, dourly secures her safety while fending off female admirers with a decided lack of experience.  Quid checks up on her investments, and Calla tries not to imagine skewering drow for a few hours at a time.  She almost succeeds.  Many miles away, something crawls to the surface of a dark Scottish lake.  Also, Trella explores the limits of her ability to wildshape, Kyree takes extended target practice, and Rhien mostly sits still, though he enjoys that in his own way.

The eight reunite the evening of the fourth day in front of the crypt.  After tales are exchanged, sleep comes upon all as the fire fades low.

A great roar from above shocks them to wakefulness shortly after dawn.  Looking up, they spy a large winged creature, revealed to have a lion’s head and a giant eagle’s wings as it comes closer.  Kyree cries, “A griffon!” but Trella shakes her head negatively.  “No, not just,” she answers.  “The wings are too sleek, and the feathers too small.  Plus it has a bronze sheen to it.  See?”  Not waiting for a response, she says in awe, “It’s a half-dragon.  Bronze, I think.”

So lost is the party in examining the majestic creature that all nearly miss the presence of its rider.  Clad in full plate of dwarven make that is covered in a dark purple lacquer, with a design of a fearsome dragon of the same color whose jaws rest over the faceplate, he presents quite a picture himself.  As he directs his mount to land nearby the group—which has since drawn weapons and taken ready positions—the symbol of Helm can be seen on the gauntleted fist that rests lightly on the pommel of a curved, sheathed blade.

Quid whispers suspiciously, “A purple dragon knight.  What interest does Cormyr have here?”

As soon as the dust settles from the landing, the rider slides neatly off the half-griffon’s back and onto his feet.  A short black plume at the top of his helmet bobs as he approaches the party, stopping five feet away to incline his head slightly.  After passing his eyes over the group, he removes his helm, apparently not fearing a conflict.  His hard, grey eyes betray no hint of emotion as they look out from between a mane of dark brown hair and a thick red beard.

When he speaks, his voice is deep and commanding.  “I presume you are the adventurers I was told about.  I am Erdrick of Cormyr, leader of the blackbrushes.  My men will be along shortly.  What have you discovered about the drow threat in this area?”

Quidlyn stares thoughtfully at the newcomer from the cowl of her new cloak of elvenkind, wondering if he too sees her look as environmentally conscious, yet classy and elegant.  "He better," she thinks, "I spent enough time working for it.  But why is he here?"

Her whispered words mirror her internal confusion.  "Damn drag'n knights. Boring lugs. Never care about money. Always some nonsense about honor and the like. Though they sure do cut a fine figure... I always liked a man in uniform…."

Finally Quid breaks from her lengthy, partially vocalized internal monologue. "Well met Sir Knight. We were accompanied of late by your colleague, Sir Dobius of Elderberry of Her Regency's foreign service (poor Dobster). Is your presence here related?"

Erdrick replies sadly, “It troubles me to hear of the death of one so loyal.  However, my current task does not involve him.”

Trella approaches the knight and shakes his hand, taking some hidden pleasure out of her recently enhanced grip as she introduces herself as “Trella.”  The 5'10" tall half-elf is clad in rhino skin armor and wields a deceptively simple wooden staff.  Her exposed skin is tanned and scarred, and she appears to be one who has not walked away from a fight in her short life.  Though her movements are sprightly, there is a weight to her gaze not normally seen in someone not yet out of her teen years.  She visibly leaves the story telling and formal introductions to Kai, waiting to interrupt when appropriate.

Kai steps forward slightly and provides a counterpoint to Quid's hail with a cool inclination of her head.  "Well met.  Indeed, before we reveal what we have learned, we would know from whom you learned of us.  Introductions perhaps are unnecessary."  Erdrick barely hears her, as his mind seems to freeze for a moment in contemplation of her beauty and natural grace.  Shoulder length dark brown hair appears as if spun from silk and possessed of a life of its own, deep green eyes sparkle in perfect symmetry, hinting at a substantial intellect behind them, and the merest hint of flawless alabaster skin in the gaps between her plain garments sets the soldier’s blood boiling.  She is a noblewoman strengthened with steel and made all the more appealing for it, and Erdrick shudders briefly as he returns to his senses, not desiring to pit his will against her own.

As Erdrick backs away, collecting his thoughts, Kyree takes the opportunity to smile and gesture towards Erdrick's bow.  "Hello, Erdrick," he says.  "Nice bow.  Use it often?"

Grateful for the respite, he responds, "I have not used the bow much of late, as I have been in transit from the Far East."

Kyree looks a bit disappointed, but recovers quickly and smiles.  "We'll work on it," he offers.

Erdrick nods and addresses the group.  “I am here for the same purpose as you.  Daggerdale’s rightful lord has requested help in combating the drow raids and I have been sent to investigate on behalf of Her Regency.  Sir Dobius would have been able to provide an introduction, but I can only give you my word as a Purple Dragon Knight.  So, what can you tell me of the drow threat?”

"I can tell you that there's a heckuva lot of fewer of them to threaten this or any Dale," Trella snorts.

"Incredible. Government bureaucracy that managed to do something right for a change," mutters Quid as she quietly calls upon Waukeen to grant her detection of the newcomer's thoughts.  The priestess finds them a bit jumbled as Erdrick's conscious mind struggles to assimilate new impressions and information, while maintaining a strict dominance over an id that keeps trying to picture various party members naked, herself included.  Fighting off that image, she is at least reasonably pleased to note that his intentions match his speech, though she is somewhat discomfited by his utter devotion to the crown.  Khail, making a simultaneous check for evil, detects none on him.

Satisfied, she says to Erdrick, "The situation here is more dire than we feared. The drow infestation of this area has largely been pacified, as our surly friend implied, but it appears to be only part of a greater drow movement that could have realm wide consequences. Additional forces would be well appreciated."

Pointing to Erdrick's mount, she asks, “Who's your friend there?

Trella adds, "I think we should level with you that we lost several experienced, and brave, companions down there.  This place is not kind to the inexperienced or those without significant weaponry and armor.  A staff of life or two might be handy as well."

Nodding towards his mount, he answers first, "This is Chagripor, a half bronze dragon / half griffon found during my recent travels to the east." Chagripor inclines his head slightly, indicating his intelligence and fine breeding.  Steve whinnies; Khail pats his head.

Erdrick continues, "Regarding the drow threat, perhaps we should join forces.  That Dobius would adventure with you is all the proof I need of your intentions.  I will heed your advice regarding my men, who have had little experience with war."  As they have not yet arrived, Erdrick sets up a marker for them, leaving a message to wait by the crypt’s entrance and guard it against intrusions from below.

Rhien interjects, “Perhaps we should continue this conversation as we descend.  Quid does not have an appreciable amount of time left before the geas takes effect.”

All are in agreement, and, after Erdrick convinces the reticent Chagripor that the depths will not be so bad, they reenter the crypt.  As they travel cautiously through it, Khail keeps up a terse description as to what the party has encountered so far.

“Most of these early crypts were filled with foul undead and other things better left undisturbed.  We vanquished all we saw, though a vampire sorcerer gave us some trouble, turning Trella’s companion Earl the unicorn to stone.  He still waits for a cure outside.

“To the right here is an invisible wall, beyond which was hiding the last remnants of the drow House Morcane, former rulers of Szith Morcane, the outpost below.  We slew many of them in a mighty battle, though we lost one of our own there.  The survivors struck a deal with us, and accompanied us some distance underground, until finally dying themselves at the hands of their contemptible peers.  Foul race, the drow.

“This hole leads to the entry post of Szith Morcane, and here we encountered the first resistance from the outpost.  Several battles took place here, and two more of our former comrades felt the cold touch of death.  We won the hard fought battle, however, securing the post and eliminating resistance from the chasm before us.  This web, now frayed into almost uselessness, connects the various layers of the city.  We will traverse it with a rope of climbing.”

Trella, trying very hard not to laugh at the paladin tour guide’s choice of language, extracts the rope from her pack and sends it in the direction of the House Morcane layer.  As the party slowly climbs, Khail continues.

“We fought through hordes of drow, clearing out the barracks, a bazaar—”

Trella interjects here, “WE didn’t do anything to the bazaar—it was my posse of earth elementals.  They ripped through the level, smashing everything they saw, and made it halfway through the commoner level before some stone giant slaves got the last of them.  You should have seen the trail of drow destruction.  It was awesome!”

Erdrick is a little taken aback at first by her enthusiasm, but the career soldier recognizes pride in one’s men when he sees it.  When she finishes talking, he claps her on the back and says, “Good show!”

Trella beams.  “Hey, I like the new guy.”

As Khail helps the group into the desired level, he recounts, “After we did what we could among the weaker drow, finding an entrance to the Underdark there, we visited an inverted tower on another level.  There we met the archmage Solom Ned’razak.  His appearance gave us pause, and we came to a deal with him, accepting his help in exchange for payment for the slaves we had freed above and a promise to eliminate all ruling priests in the outpost.

“We accomplished the lion’s share of this task here, in this layer of the city, though it was not without great personal cost.  I lost my life to Dorina T’sarran, Kyree lost his to her vampiric noble guards, and we appear to have permanently lost the entire strange but noble band that freed us from our earlier imprisonment a scant tenday ago.

“The sole surviving priest—though that word is not properly used here—is a ghostly thrall of Lolth residing up the ladder in front of us.  Solom was insistent that we destroy her, going so far as to place a geas on Quid to ensure our actions.  Thus, we seek now to send her into death for good.  We will be aided in this in that Lolth appears no longer to be granting spells to her followers, which should weaken the ghost substantially.  We will ascend now.”

Khail falls silent, done with his tale.  Calla, bored to tears by the telling of it, looks up from her examination of one of the ladders.  “Not so fast Chatty Cathy.  The ladder is trapped with some sort of webbing.  Hmm…let me see…aha!  Got it.  Now you can pass.”

Khail, immune to ribbing, merely says, “Thank you.  Shall we ascend?”

Erdrick nods, eager to test his mettle with the party.  Both his and Khail’s steeds are forced to remain below, due to their large size.  As it is, all save Calla must crawl up the narrow passage to the Fane of Lolth.

They finally emerge from the uncomfortable trek into the pungent smell of decaying flesh that fills the stale air in the fane.  The rank odor gives the great hall the aura of a battlefield, though absent the croaking of ravens.  Indeed, most of the corpses strewn around the room and slumped against the twin rows of columns look as though they fell in battle, their weapons close at hand.  The flesh of the corpses has begun melting to slime, allowing the bones to show through and eliciting an "Oh yuck!" from a suddenly squeamish Kyree.  The elf's problem is more than psychological; Kyree's knees buckle at the stench and he finds himself quite unable to move on.

Khail scans the room, not needing his paladin sight to detect evil in this wretched place.  His gaze falls upon a sacrificial altar, atop which lies a female drow corpse, her neck pierced by a hand crossbow bolt.  The paladin moves to remove it, but is stopped by Calla hand on his hip.  “That thing is trapped, or my name isn’t Calla Crabtree.  Let’s leave it alone, okay big guy?”

Khail nods, but decides to wait after Kyree's not so subtle cough from the rear reminds the rest of the group of his state.  Seven minutes later the elf wipes flecks of vomit from his lips and stands, ready to continue.  Trella chuckles at him.  Kyree glares.

Khail leads the group onward, through a broken gate and into the formerly plush area that, judging by the ecclesiastical motif on the cushions and delicately embroidered pillows strewn haphazardly around the area, could only be the inner fane.

Though bloodstains line the walls and carpet here as well, no bodies are present.  The air feels thick and unusually cold, and the sound of metal grating on stone as Kai brushes the broken gate is especially shrill shattering the eerie the silence.  Quid, expecting the ghost ahead, begins preparations, sending the more martial-minded members of the group into the ethereal plane.

Immediately the physical world drops away, becoming misty and insubstantial.  A curved wall that separated physical regions in the material world is now only a hazy curtain that offers no shielding from the stern drow woman on the other side.  Her slight proportions clothed in a black robe trimmed with purple and burgundy, she is unsurprised by the group’s sudden appearance, as they are of hers.  Without moving otherwise, she begins to draw in breath.

Meanwhile, back in the Material plane, Calla, Kai, and Rhien see none of this.  What they do see, however, is the sudden appearance of a hideous spider-like bebilith, apparently summoned by a triggered trap.  It spies the small group of three and fires off a web before they even know it’s there.  Calla reacts with preternatural speed, diving out of the way, but Rhien and Kai are trapped in the tough webbing for the time being.

This has little effect on the sorceress, however, as she promptly vaporizes the bebilith with a ray of greenish light before it can act again.  After having seen her earlier adventuring group torn apart by these creatures, the halfling acknowledges the deed with a look that borders on awe.

On the ethereal plane, the rest of the group reacts with similar efficiency.  In seconds, Kyree, Trella, and Khail have dealt stinging blows to the keening spirit, leaving her on the edge of oblivion.

Erdrick knows only that a foe remains to be fought, and acts accordingly.  The purple dragon knight discreetly puts some spittle on his left earlobe, exhales deeply through his nose as he quickly draws his katana, and shouts an oath of wrath to defeat the drow ghost.  The oath is satisfied quickly, as his first thrust skewers the former drow on the end of Erdrick's axiomatic katana.  The noble samurai twists the blade in place before slowly drawing it back, and then watches as the spirit fades into nothingness.  “That was not a challenge,” he states flatly.

Quid rolls her eyes.  “Well at least it took care of my geas—wait!  Cr*p!  It’s still there!”

Khail responds, “Perhaps the ghost might rejuvenate, and thus is not truly dead.”

Quid slaps her forehead with the palm of her hand.  “Damn it!  F***ing stupid pretty boy bastard!”

Recovering somewhat, she says, “Fine.  All we have to do is figure out how to kill it for good.  Let’s go back.”

The five ethereal companions move away from the webbing and return to the Material plane in time to watch Rhien and Kai escape from their entanglement, the latter with Calla's disquietingly reverent aid.  Quid's glare cuts off Kai's greeting, and the priest proceeds to stomp around the inner fane, throwing bloody pillows around with abandon.  When all she finds is a scattering of ash that she guess is the remains of Szith Morcane’s high priestess, she curses and moves behind the back wall of the inner temple.  There she finds a large alcove holding clerical vestments and temple fixtures, all of which bear the spider symbol of Lolth.  A pile of cinders and ashes on the floor seems to indicate that any other items stored here have been burned.

The cleric rampages through the vestry, tossing aside implements of Lolth-worship as she searches for anything that could be a clue to permanently eliminating the ghost.  All she finds are assorted heavy religious objects and some similarly devoted texts and vestments, and the priest’s training is sufficient to deduce that nothing here will be of aid.

Storming back to the inner fane, her gaze finally comes to rest on the altar.  “What if you desecrated it?” Kai ventures.

Quid slaps her forehead for the second time in the last couple of minutes.  “Of course, that should work.  We’ve already killed the b*tch that supplanted her here, so that can’t be it, and the whole area outside of here is fouled with Kiaransaleen devotion, so the ‘holiness’ of the altar must be keeping her around.  Unfortunately, I didn’t pray for that last night.”

Kai shrugs.  “Well, as long as you plan on doing so tomorrow, the geas won’t take effect.”

Quid smiles.  “Excellent.  Now, what say we—”

Before she can finish, the group hears a mighty roar from below.  Erdrick shouts, “Chag!” and immediately begins sprinting to the fane's entry passage.  The purple dragon knight is followed closely by the rest of the group, who catch up as he fearlessly dives into the passage.  Again following his lead, all soon find themselves back in the former abode of House Morcane.

Steve and Chagripor are still there, but now they have company.  A huge troll stands only feet from them, blocking the exit from the level.  He is clad in half-plate, and an odd intelligence can be seen in his eyes.  Smiling toothily, he says in perfect common, “Solom has decided to terminate this partnership.  He hopes there are no hard feelings.”

Erdrick steps forward to protect his steed, but is stopped by Chag’s reaction.  Khail relays Steve’s analysis, which is the same as the half-griffon’s: “There are more out there besides the troll.”

Snicker pokes his head out for a second, then just as quickly resumes hiding in Kai’s cloak.  The arcanist says hurriedly, “Four arcane guards with spiked chains, one gaunt black-clad drow, one ordinary drow in a green shirt, and that plump drow who ran away earlier from the hunter-killer team.”

At this the troll snarls, “This will not save you,” and the battle is joined.


----------



## htetickrt (Jan 3, 2005)

A Response to A Message​
The party summons weapons and prepares spells with alacrity, but the troll has been waiting for his foes’ arrival and moves even faster, stoking his own might with a powerful roar.  Making full use of his superior reach, the large giant lashes out with his claws at the enemy nearest his position.  In short order, Khail's arms and torso are raked by razor-sharp claws, and a chunk is taken out of his shoulder by jagged teeth.

Erdrick is unfazed by his companion's sudden massive blood loss.  Ordering his mount to join Calla in protecting the spellcasters in the rear, the samurai ducks a blow to close with the troll, and begins an odd speech:

“Once a group of ten blind masseuses were traveling together in the mountains, and when they began to pass along the top of a precipice, they all became very cautious, their legs shook, and they were in general struck with terror. Just then the leading man stumbled and fell of the cliff. Those that were left all wailed, "Ahh, ahh; how piteous!" But the masseuse who had fallen spoke up from below, "Don't be afraid. Although I fell, it was nothing. I am now rather at ease. Before falling I kept thinking 'What will I do if I fall?' and there was no end to my anxiety. But now I've settled down. If the rest of you want to be at ease, fall quickly!''

Trella and Kyree share a time-honored look of "Is he insane?" but nevertheless they do feel oddly inspired to action, if only to drown out the story.  Erdrick, on the other hand, revels in it, driving his blade again and again into remarkably tough troll flesh.  Though the wounds so caused are discouragingly small, Erdrick does not waver in his intent.  Kyree takes heart from the image of the samurai standing there, gore-covered sword raised in salute, and fires off a barrage of arrows at the troll.  He scatters when a quartet of lightning bolts is flung at the group; others are not so lucky.

Kai's subsequent spell coats those invisible in fine sparkling dust, but not in time for Rhien's charge to prevent the plump mage from 'suggesting' “Dorina still lives; you must run to her coffin immediately to destroy her for good.”  Kyree spins and rushes back toward the center of the level, joined by Khail's warhorse.

The paladin tries to maintain concentration despite the attrition, but after more of his blood decorates the floor upon his approach to the troll, he is forced to reassess and heal the most serious of his wounds.

The troll scoffs, focusing his ire on what he deems to be the more potent threat.  Erdrick's exhibited skill earns him a helping of what Khail experienced earlier, and the samurai's blood mingles with the paladin's on the floor below.

Trella charges past him to deal a ringing blow, but Erdrick barely notices her as he focuses utterly on the troll.  In a display of swordsmanship worthy of the songs of bards, the purple dragon knight plunges his katana into the troll’s abdomen, pulls it up through his body to his right shoulder with a mighty slice, and then withdraws the blade while ripping through the troll’s neck like parchment.  The troll, having suffered the greatest injury of its (admittedly short) life, reels in shock and pain, while Erdrick pauses his odd tale briefly to honor those whose training of him made this possible.

Kai reclaims one of her signature spells; her ‘suggestion’ “Your kind master can't possibly have meant to place you in so much peril.  You should return to Solom and request a more reasonable assignment,” sends two mages packing.

Unfortunately, this leaves the plump mage, and he exacts a horrible revenge upon the noble samurai.  Digging into his deepest fears, the drow evokes an image of the great dragon that slew his former liege Azoun reaching for him.  Powerless to fight the mighty creature, and torn by more than a little guilt over his failure in his duty--though in truth he wasn't there--Erdrick watches in horror as the dragon’s phantasmal claws reach through his chest and stop his heart.  With a gasp, the samurai collapses to the earth, dead.  Chag opens his mouth and lets loose a mighty roar of anguish.

Quid screams, “Too much death!” and stuns the drow assembled with the sudden summoning of daylight into the region.  Her summoned earth elemental chooses to manifest then as well, pummeling the troll about the head.

Calla breaks away from her position, tumbling toward the troll in an attempt to flank him.  Though her efforts are clumsy, the opportunistic strike is worse, and she ends up in perfect position to strike.  A swift stab plunges her dagger in the troll’s kidney, and a sharp turn insures it does maximal damage as she pulls it out, drenched in gore.

Khail strikes next, but the troll shrugs off the one blow that connects.  Seemingly reverting to an earlier intellectual state, the beast snarls and pounces on the paladin, swiftly reducing him to a quivering pile of bloody flesh, barely holding to life.

Trella unleashes a snarl of her own, but her blows barely penetrate his thick skin, adding to her mounting frustration.  Rhien takes a different tack, focusing his ki before lashing out at the plump mage.  This time the monk succeeds, stunning and bloodying the drow.

With their leader out of commission, the remaining wizards move to flee.  This marks the end of the troll's reign of terror, as Kai, the earth elemental, and finally Calla assault it in turn.  The halfling's blade is the last, spearing and then drawing out the troll's still-beating heart.

Trella hurdles its body as it falls, ignoring the spiked chains that tear into exposed flesh as she runs.  The goal of her charge is Erdrick's murderer, and the stunned mage does not get a chance to recover after she shatters his skull with the butt of her quarterstaff.

Rhien leaves his fallen enemy and kneels before the samurai.  Expending much of the power of his gloves, the monk returns life and full health to Erdrick's torn body and shattered mind.  The warrior sits up with a start as the pure white light that suffused him begins to fade, and he spits blood from his mouth as he struggles to his feet.  Rhien calms him with a touch, pointing out the outcome of the battle, allowing the samurai finally to relax.

Calla spurns a similar chance at peace, dragging the troll's head off to the side.  With a broad—and a little scary—smile plastered on her face, she drives the point of her corrosive dagger into the troll’s brain twice.  Though the wounds she creates are grievous, the troll continues to regenerate.  Stabbing down twice more while screaming “Die!” seems to do the trick, however.  Its massive body jerks once, then falls still, regenerating no more.  Calla wipes the gore off her blade and rises to her feet.  “Good times…” she says, oddly.

Kyree returns soon after, sheepishly scratching his head and commenting, “I could have sworn Dorina was still alive.”

Quid smiles at this briefly, but Rhien can find no such mirth.  Staring at the opening to the chasm, the monk says thoughtfully, “Those mages have surely told Solom what’s happened by now.  I would advise that we either go to meet him now, on our own terms, before he has opportunity to ambush us again, or leave the crypts until we are ready to face him.  Continuing on otherwise would seem to be foolish given his recent actions.”  He looks at the dead troll meaningfully.

Trella puts an end to such caution, smiling a wicked grin and announcing, "We're going after him.  Now.  Stand behind me or step aside."  She swipes the troll's remains like a hockey puck when she passes them and says to Erdrick, with audible admiration, "Nice work with that troll."  Quid seconds the compliment; Calla gets behind the druid, cleaning her dagger as she does.

Trella corrals Rhien and Kai for planning; the two, despite some misgivings about assaulting the archmage immediately, dutifully offer opinions.  How to deal with invisibility is a frequent topic, often centering on the use of Snicker's innate detection ability.

Upon hearing his name, the pseudodragon pokes his scaly snout out of Kai's garments and flaps over to perch on Rhien's shoulder.  Looping his neck around so as to be able to shade his eyes with one claw, he feigns peering intently around the room.  With one of his signature whinnying chuckles, he then skids over to Erdrick and bats him with mock ferocity in the knees.  Kai smiles down at the tiny dragon and then, relentingly, at Erdrick.  "You do good work," she admits to the knight.  Snicker slinks over to Chagripor and greets him in a dragonly way.

Quid chuckles and joins the discussion, which quickly expands to include Kyree and Erdrick.  The latter continues his odd manner of speech, whispering to Trella, "When I was slain, was my corpse facing the Troll?"

Trella scrunches up her face.  "I was too busy trying to bash it to take note of your final pose, but I think you were." Suddenly curious she asks, "Why?"

Erdrick mumbles something about the samurai code to Trella, apparently not wanting to reveal the source of his wisdom and motivational stories.  Instead of elaborating he changes the subject, offering, "The only magic I can add is the casting of light with this ring," which he promptly exhibits by summoning a glowing ball over Snicker's head.  In response, the pseudodragon squints at him as if reconsidering his opinion of the warrior, then rolls his serpentine eyes and makes a big show of sheltering in the shadows under Chag.  Kai clucks at her familiar in affectionate reproach of his sense of humor.  Snicker snickers back from his hiding place.

Erdrick nods sagely at the tiny dragon's antics.  "If there is time, I’d like to go and check up on my men."

Trella shakes her head.  “Sorry big guy, no time for checking right now.  It’s ass-kickin’ time.  I'm gonna summon a posse of elementals, and we're going to show that bastard who's broken."

Kai cautions, "Just don't forget about his spells.  They could turn things bad quickly.  "I'm on it," Kyree assures; Rhien also voices his intent to do contribute in this manner.

Once the elementals have all arrived, Trella announces that she and her boys are "Rollin' like stones, baby," without much explanation.  The druid seems eager to fight, and does her best to sprint up the rope of climbing to reach the inverted tower level once again.

Calla has to grab her arm roughly to make her stop, padding off through the entry arch before having to deal with Trella's glare.  The halfling moves easily through an empty room and into deserted guards' quarters, finding nothing of interest to anyone not drow.  Her report does not please Trella.

“My boys want to smash!” the druid exclaims, though this would not be obvious to an observer, given the elementals’ impassive miens.

The halfling holds up her hands.  “Sorry, boss, but I’m pretty sure those rooms are a bust.”

Rhien strokes his chin thoughtfully.  “Not entirely; we’ve slain four arcane guards so far, so there are possibly no more than six left, and three have exhausted their most potent magic.”

Quid responds, “Yay.”

Trella snaps, “Got a better idea?”

Quid looks smug.  “As a matter of fact, I do.”  The Waukeenar first grants herself flight, and then heightens her perceptive abilities.  As soon as she does so, she sees what the others in the group cannot.  “Three doors are set in the walls of the tower, covered by illusions.”

Kai immediately grants herself flight, and between the four flying and the rope of climbing, the distance to the first of the doors is soon closed.  Calla moves to the door, but is dismayed by what she finds.  “It’s magically sealed; I can’t get in.”

Trella is unperturbed.  “Boys, smash it down.”

Though it takes a couple of blows, even the magically enhanced portal cannot stand up to the might of the posse of earth elementals, and the door splinters inwards.  Trella, first to pass through, immediately is sheathed in a fog that obscures all vision beyond five feet.  She sees nothing of interest in the hallway.  “Quid, a little help here,” she cries, not believing her eyes.

Quid pushes forward, discovering four additional doors along the hallway, all warded as the external one.  Four elemental assaults later and the apprentices' bedchambers are revealed, Spartan in decoration and absent of significant interest to the ever more impatient group.

After returning to the central tower, Trella directs her boys to take out the next highest portal without pause, and rushes through the broken portal before the last shards of wood hit the stone floor.  Inside is a pair of rooms off of a short hallway.  The first is dominated by a large arcane diagram traced on the floor in paint, powdered silver, and colored sand.  Odors of smoke and sulfur hang in the air as if a large chemical fire had burned in here recently, and it does not take Kai's intellect to deduce that this chamber is used as a conjury.  While nothing is spied within, Kyree’s sharp eyes note that the summoning circle is broken, and another enemy is mentally added to the tally.

The second room on the level sports walls covered with slate and whitened with chalk powder and arcane scrawlings.  Quid deciphers them with the aid of an orison, and shares her finding that Solom must have recently been instructing his students in the intricacies of the detect scrying spell, as well as general information about scrying spells and the magical sensors they create.

Kai responds, “Well, he would know.  I saw his sensor twice now in the tower.  He knows we’re here, but we knew that.”

Trella slams her staff to the ground.  “Let’s not keep him waiting then.”  She leads the elementals back to the tower and the party gathers around the last door, making hurried final preparations for what is rightly assumed to be the deadliest battle they have thus far faced.  Once they are done, Trella signals the elementals to kick down the door.

A gust of wind emanates from the now-open portal, powerful enough to send flying party members reeling.  They struggle to maintain control as they gaze into the opulent chamber revealed, so different from the rest of the tower.  An impressive throne made of heavy-looking black metal looms on a high dais on the far side of the room from the door.  Though most see it as unoccupied, Quid spies the hated form of Solom Ned’razak lounging atop it invisibly, though he is anything but indolent as he prepares a spell.  A mere foot in front of him, below his position, is a shimmering sphere of oscillating prismatic hues.  To the right of the sphere is another invisible form, which appears to Quid to be a large gargoyle with powerful batlike wings and thick, green skin.  Its hands and feet sport razor-sharp claws, and its head is vaguely canine, with small webbed ears and horns.

To the left of the sphere are the two quite visible mages from the previous battle.  They do not look particularly thrilled to be where they are, but neither is shaking with fear.  In front of the sphere, roughly ten feet from the doorway, is another demon-like creature, also visible, standing nearly ten feet tall and clad in hideous coal-black armor.  The only hint of humanity underneath the metal is a tusked mouth visible behind the stylized fangs of the armor.  The figure holds a cruel-looking spiked chain in both hands, while a large shield dances in front of him.

Finally, five feet from the door are five arcane guards arrayed in a half-circle around those assembled.  The three central ones are visible and familiar to the group; the two on the outside are seen only by Quid, and appear to be the two carrying the wands the party met earlier on this level.

Having finished his preparations while the party members right themselves, Solom rises to his feet.  With a sneer marring his handsome features, the archmage pronounces, “The mistake you have made in returning shall be your last.”  He then begins casting.


----------



## htetickrt (Apr 16, 2005)

*Solom Ned’razak*

Apologizing for being extremely late in posting is getting to be a bad habit.  The game from which this is drawn is still in hiatus as we all continue to be very busy, but I do plan on catching up both here and there.  Really.  Anyway, here's the big bad fight with Solom.  I've included it in its entirety; I hope this makes up for the delay at least a little.

Solom Ned’razak​
Kyree clutches the enchanted rope tightly, his hands white from the effort to hold on against the winds buffeting his upper body.  Rhien slowly begins focusing his ki to transport himself between space, but stops at the urgent sound of Snicker’s telepathic voice in his mind.  Quid’s desire to transport the monk, the ranger, and whomever else she can get into the room is made manifest, and Rhien waits patiently for his chance.

Braced for the expected impact of the archmage’s fury, the party is somewhat surprised that it is not he who acts first.  Instead the gaunt, black-clad drow’s spindly fingers twist and point, summoning ethereal molasses to counteract the party’s quickened movements.  This elicits a sharp curse from Quid.

The arcane guards act next, focusing their assault on the rocky exteriors of Trella’s “boys.”  Lightning and spiked chains send chunks of stone tumbling away in equal measures, and the bolts singe Khail and Erdrick on the way out.

Though the two warriors ignore the minor electrical burns, they cannot so easily brush off the sudden bestial roar emitted by the central figure in the room: the heavily armored spiked chain wielder.  Raising his chain—twice as large as his pupils’—as the shout still echoes off the walls, the large humanoid exhibits his astounding reach as he batters the greater elemental about the body, putting his arcane disciples to shame with both the accuracy and potency of each strike.  The lightning that coruscates over the chain seems almost excessive as he pulverizes the earth elemental into shards of stone with three lashes of it.  Not satisfied as the inner planar being fades away, he continues his assault on the next closest creature, knocking huge chunks out of that one as well.  From inside the demon head of the armor, a coarse voice shouts, “More!”

On Trella’s orders, the most recently injured earth elemental moves to interpose itself between the swirling winds and the party, in the process thrice bringing one huge fist down upon the creature that brought it such pain.  Twice the humanoid’s dancing shield deflects blows that would have crushed a large house, but the elemental’s final strike catches the chain wielder in the shoulder.  A tusked smile behind his helmet is the being’s only response.

A second elemental tries to do the same, but finds itself unable to come close enough to strike.  Changing targets smoothly, it bashes the closest arcane guard once, as he is apparently not so warded.

Still cursing, Quid reactivates her boots and transports much of the party into the room.  As she appears next to the demon, she searches for the proper words to express her dismay.  All she can come up with is: “F***.”

Rhien and Kyree share a look fraught with meaning, knowing somehow that this could be their last battle together.  On silent agreement, Kyree takes a step back and turns toward the chain-wielder, while Rhien moves toward the throne.

The elf draws his bow back, wincing in pain as the chain-wielder again evinces his superior reach, brutally beating Kyree about the head with his weapon.  Electricity is absorbed by protective magic, but the archer has no such defense against either the physical damage or the flood of negative energy that combined render him badly wounded from only a single blow.  Bravely holding to his feet despite the pain, the archer fires a full barrage of arrows at his foe.  Though the first misses, the second and third miraculously find gaps in his foe’s full plate, and the fourth sails straight and true through the opening in his helmet, taking him through his cruelly grinning mouth.

Rhien smiles slightly at his friend as he moves over to the base of the throne.  By closing his eyes and letting his other senses expand, the monk is able to pinpoint the location of the archmage.  Drawing his fist back, he waits patiently to disrupt whatever magic Solom plans to cast.

Khail spurs Steve into an immediate gallop, and the celestial warhorse bursts into the room in a fury, sending arcane guards and elementals alike scattering in an effort not to be overborne.  The paladin ignores them, galloping toward the chain-wielder with his head near his steed’s and his holy blade parallel to the horse’s flank.  Khail remains in this position until an instant before reaching the large warrior, whereupon he explodes into action, slicing into the barbarian’s sternum with awesome force.  Blood sprays from the vicious wound, tinting the warhorse's hindquarters crimson, but the burly humanoid does not fall.

Flying outside the scene of such violence, Kai’s bad feeling about the battle grows.  Nevertheless, she does what she can to aid her friends, illuminating Solom and two lesser mages via motes of golden glitter.  In a display of small favors, the apprentices throw their hands to their faces, apparently blinded as well as revealed.  Kai smiles wanly.

Erdrick flies Chag into the room then, surveying the battlefield with an experienced eye.  Noting that the arcane guards refused to stand in Steve’s way, he directs Chag to charge over to the corner nearest Quid, Trella, and the demon while seeking to inspire courage with the words of Master Ittei: “If one were to say what is to do good, in a single word it would be to endure suffering.  Not enduring is bad without exception.”

Trella gapes at him.  “Yeah, just what we need: more suffering,” she snarls, but feels emboldened despite herself.  Erdrick calls Chag to a halt after the arcane guards have predictably dived out of the way, but instead of beginning a charge, the purple dragon reaches one mailed hand into a belt pouch, withdrawing a tiny black sphere which he then casts toward the opposite corner of the room.  The marble explodes upon impact, expanding into a wave of force that buffets several foes, yet fails to encase any in the sphere of force that is a possible outcome of the item’s use.

Calla creeps up to the top of the rope and peers inside.  Realizing that the elementals blocking the wind from tossing her aside like a leaf will not last much longer, the rogue seizes her chance and tumbles into the room, tossing a dagger as she rolls.  Unlike the display of acrobatics, however, her aim is poor, and does not strike hated drow flesh.

Trella provides covering fire, scorching those in the room’s center with a column of flames that incinerates the gaunt mage and burns two other figures.  Pleased, she directs the lesser elementals to pummel the nearest arcane guards, and they respond with stony aplomb.

The demon turns on Quid, though only she can see this, and attempts to dig into her with vicious claws.  Tymora aids the Waukeenar as both swipes are weak and clumsy, and Quid readies herself to return the demon to whence it came.  Kai, who sees the outer planar being now that its invisibility is gone, immediately recognizes it as a nycaloth, for what little good this does her at the moment.  Before any further action can be taken, the archmage finally reaches the conclusion of his magic.

Rhien senses this, and focuses all of his energy on disrupting the drow’s spell.  The monk’s fist lashes out, but layers of spell protections prove sufficient to deflect the blow.  Solom chuckles at the monk’s efforts.  “Watch how it’s done, half-breed,” he laughs, and then releases a torrent of fire.  Four flaming spheres, centered on Erdrick, explode into small balls of fire; these are instantly followed by a bolt of ravening flames that targets Quid before splitting off to lash out at the rest of the party.  “Enjoy that, b*tch of Waukeen?” the archmage asks, quite unnecessarily.  Quid glares at him as she takes in the complete destruction of the elemental horde.  Horrible burns cover Trella’s snarling lips.

In the center of the room, the mighty barbarian surveys the battle.  Not wanting his allegiance to Solom to result in his demise, he dips his left hand into his belt, withdrawing a potion that he swiftly quaffs.  As a minor cut closes, he whirls the chain above his head, focusing his ire on Khail.  In a thick, guttural voice, he says in heavily accented Common, “When you see Torm, tell him that Bargh sent you.”  Then his chain descends upon Khail’s body.

The paladin raises his shield to counter, but the barbarian is simply too strong for such a tactic.  The unholy spiked chain pierces Khail’s groin, armpit, and finally throat, sending a perverse mixture of unholy energy and electricity cascading through his torn body.  The third blow is enough to send his spirit flying from his battered and bloody corpse, which slides off of Steve to thump upon the floor.  Solom exults, “One.”

Not quite done yet, Bargh spins dexterously on his heel, bringing his weapon to bear on Calla.  Twice she is struck, surviving largely by virtue of her resistance to the darker aspects of the weapon.  Still, the rogue is not in good shape, and she reflexively holds her hands over her stomach to keep her internal organs where they belong.

Seeing his friend fall yet again, Kyree knows that the barbarian cannot be permitted to hold to life.  Though the archer knows the act will cost him, he draws his bow, nocks an arrow, and lets it fly.  The barbarian’s chain slashes a deep gash across his cheek in response, but Kyree is undaunted and releases the rest of a barrage.  Bargh stares down at the four additional arrows now quivering along his body.  “Is that all you've got, elf?”  Kyree blanches.

Hunched over in pain from the sudden onslaught of flames, Quid clenches her fist in determination and anger.  "Alright Mr. Pretty-boy, if that's how you're going to play…."  Tuning out the vagaries of battle through intense concentration, she imparts a powerful abjuration unto herself.  Then, intoning, "Begone you foul unnatural negative externality," she lays hands upon the nycaloth.  As the spell harmlessly dissipates against its skin, she launches into a tirade of profanity, pausing only to heal herself somewhat in preparation for the carnage to come.

Steve charges the one who slew his companion, lashing out with hooves and teeth, but his wild attacks merely add confusion to an already chaotic battlefield.

Kai turns over possible tactics in her mind at a pace appropriate to her genius-level intelligence.  She quickly comes to the conclusion that the archmage must be stopped at any cost, and prepares accordingly.  Calla and Erdrick choose to wait as well, though only the former’s intent appears to be the same as the sorceress’.

Growling, Trella closes the distance to Quid and heals a few of the Waukeenar’s burns.  Before the priest can thank her, though, the yugoloth drives its claws into Quid’s chest, and Trella receives only a spurt of blood in the face for her effort.

Rhien notes the state of the party—particularly Calla’s and Erdrick’s battered forms—and opts for succor over offense.  Exhausting the last of his gloves’ healing, he purges those still living of all wounds and ailments.  Solom stares through avarice-tinted orbs and whispers intensely, “I will have that magic.”  He immediately begins the spell designed to accomplish this goal.

Calla and Kai assault him in turn.  Though Calla’s blade—aimed at the drow’s kidney—is turned aside at the last moment, Kai’s bolt flies true, and is enough to cause the archmage to lose concentration.

On the first spell, that is.  The second releases a multihued fan of light that blankets the room, with all save Calla in its area of effect.

Trella feels pressure on both mind on body, but exerts will and reflexes to the extent that she is barely harmed.  Kyree leaps out of the way of an electrical bolt, suffering no injury.  Rhien manages to avoid being turned to stone.

This is the extent of the group’s luck.  Kai’s normally hearty constitution is taxed to its limit and beyond by a poison the likes of which she has never known.  The beautiful sorceress races against time, bravely attempting to finish her abjuration as she feels her heart slowly stop beating.  By the barest of margins she manages to do so, and with her last breath attempts to strip the archmage of his myriad protective magics.  Though she does not learn of her success, Rhien feels the wreath of flames vanish from Solom’s body.  Unfortunately, so does the glitter making him visible.  Snicker feels Kai’s demise and emerges from her cloak, emitting a high-pitched keen that is a mixture of sorrow and rage.

Quid starts in shock, but her movement is soon arrested by the growing spread of stone across her lithe form.  The Waukeenar begins, but does not finish her curse of Solom as the transformation completes, leaving her an inert stone statue.  Nearby, the celestial warhorse Steve suffers the same fate.

Erdrick’s mind is assaulted as Trella’s was, but to far greater effect.  As his mount suffers the effects of the same poison Kai experienced and expires under him, the purple dragon’s mind simply snaps under the weight of Solom’s potent magic.  Lost in a confusion from which he will not escape without mystical aid, Erdrick lashes out at the nearest creature to him, which happens to be an injured arcane guard.  Insanity has apparently not dulled his skill with the blade, and he neatly dispatches the drow with two expert strikes.  Moving with practiced skill, he spins on the next nearest one, slamming his blade into the drow’s mithral shirt with such force that the vibrations induced cause it to ring out for long after the drow has fallen to the earth, unconscious.  Finally, making his sensei proud, the quite batty Erdrick advances toward Bargh and takes a couple of swings at him as well.  Unfortunately, this time he fails to make contact.

Trella screams then, her wrathful cry providing a potent counterpoint to Snicker’s wailing.  Rhien stares at his unharmed fists in anguish, wondering if he has truly fallen so far from Ilmater’s grace that he must continuously watch the suffering of those he cares about while remaining unharmed himself.  Calla raises her dagger once again, keeping a cold eye on Solom’s back.  Kyree calmly nocks an arrow, prepared to end this one way or another.

Solom Ned’razak, archmage of Szith Morcane, smiles cruelly, avoiding clumsy strikes from Calla and Rhien as he calmly enters the safety of his prismatic sphere.  “Two and three,” he chuckles after his retreat.

Two arcane guards back further into a corner of the chamber, readying their magic to disrupt that of others.  The third speaks words of magic with a rapid tongue before lashing Rhien in the rear once with his spiked chain.  Far from distressing him, however, the injury seems to bring the monk back into focus, and doubt gives way to resolve.  His sight flickers across the landscape, looking for some opening to seize.

Near him, the half-ogre only has eyes for Erdrick.  Again and again he whips the samurai with his chain, leaving him barely recognizable under the blood and bruising.  Yet, much to the dismay of Bargh, Erdrick lives, and the barbarian’s fourth blow is uncharacteristically wide.  Unable to withdraw a potion without swift retaliation from Erdrick, Bargh settles for ending his life.  A fifth strike crushes his skull beneath his helmet, dropping his now-lifeless body to the floor in a heap.  As Erdrick falls, Bargh almost casually turns to Trella and scores her flesh with deep welts, though the druid resists the electricity.  Solom laughs from within his sphere.  “Four.”

Kyree’s attention never wavers as he takes one final step back, finally placing him out of the long reach of Bargh, though the action places him within Solom’s bedchambers.  Bargh mocks his strategic retreat.  “Scared?”

Kyree's arrow answers for him, skimming the barbarian's armor and somehow finding a gap in the knee.  The wound it causes is minor, but sufficient, and the mighty half-ogre finally falls from the combined weight of his numerous injuries.  The archer stares thoughtfully at the ring of gore surrounding the body, then slays two of Bargh's pupils with a trio of precision strikes.  “Perhaps I was,” he finally answers, “but so should you have been.”

Just then a thought hits him.  “Trella; Stone; Solom,” he passes along to the druid via Snicker, and his idea is immediately comprehended.  Moments later a hemispherical wall encases the prismatic sphere; all are surprised when Solom does not come tumbling out before it forms.  Apparently, he is satisfied where he is for now.

The nycaloth snarls then, the normally aggressive sound tinged with a hint of amusement.  It takes flight and leaps toward Rhien, attempting both to strike and to grapple the monk.  It fails at both as its claws come nowhere near the frantically dodging man.

The monk shares a look with the rogue, and the two agree silently that they can't wait for Solom's emergence forever.  Instead they flank the yugoloth and rapidly eliminate any pleasure it might have been deriving from the fight with a series of blows and cuts that leave it stunned, torn, and dripping a foul ichor that sizzles angrily upon striking the stone earth.

With the majority of the combatants eliminated, the battlefield situation is clarified.  The last arcane guard fires a volley of missiles at Trella, which she completely ignores, not  even deigning to glance at their author.  Kyree eliminates the threat for her, ending the chain wielders' presence in the melee with missiles of his own.

Suddenly and quite unexpectedly, the blind mage screams, “No!” and charges mindlessly toward the closest person to him, which happens to be Calla.  His blind flailing misses her nimble form, but his presence does present another potential complication.

Trella ignores him as well, nearly frothing at the mouth as she manifests her staff and charges the nycaloth.  Her aim and her armor’s potential work in perfect synchrony as her staff contacts the yugoloth’s head…and knocks it clean off.  As it bounces off wall and floor grotesquely, the body collapses, remaining on the plane to which it was called.  Were Trella fully rational at the moment, she might take some comfort in permanently destroying a creature of evil, but as it is she merely looks around for her next target.

Freed of their proximal foe, Rhien and Calla return to waiting for the archmage to exit.  Unfortunately, it is not he who returns first, but rather an earth elemental which phases through the wall of stone to bull rush Rhien.  The monk attempts to push back, but he is simply no match for the large elemental and its three tons of weight.  Rhien is shoved nearly forty feet away, upending a table and scattering books across Solom’s library in the process.  Realizing that there is now no way he can get to Solom in time to disrupt his concentration, the monk beats his fists upon the elemental, hoping to escape his rocky adversary.  The monk’s blows are potent, and nearly sufficient to render the elemental to rubble, but not quite.  It maintains its position, seeming to threaten to push Rhien back through the very walls of the tower.

Calla curses the loss of her flanking partner, particularly as an entire ten-foot region of the wall of stone suddenly vanishes.  She springs into action immediately, acting on Snicker’s description of the mage’s location, but her dagger barely glances off of the archmage’s cloak.  Solom smiles—a gesture lost to all save Snicker—and suddenly a tremendous bebilith looms over the frightened Calla.  Though rationally she knows that it is probably an illusion, the rogue cannot master her fear, and her heart skips a beat when it touches her.  Pain courses through her small form, but she is hearty, and avoids Erdrick’s fate from earlier in the day.  Solom’s smile vanishes quickly, and he flies over to the door and out of the room.

With only one real target left, Kyree must trust in luck to guide his arrows.  The archer toys with the fletching of one while waiting for Snicker’s order to fire.  Meanwhile, a tiny part of Trella’s mind contemplates casting a spell, but the rest is consumed with the need to hurt those who have taken so much from her.  With a thought her form shifts to that of an immense dire bear, and she lets her nose guide her to the archmage, intending to smash his skull in as soon as possible.

The blind mage, lacking the telepathic urgings of the nycaloth, decides to sit down for a while, sinking into self-pity with astonishing rapidity for a drow.

Back in the library, the earth elemental slams Rhien into the bookshelf standing against the opposite wall.  Rhien kicks out once, smashing the elemental to dust, and then makes all the haste he can muster over to Trella and his desired foe.

A moment later, Snicker gives his signal.  Calla and Kyree let loose their projectiles a second apart, looking to disrupt all of the archmage's magic.  They are partially successful; Calla’s dagger misses wide, but somehow Kyree’s arrow makes it through, cutting past numerous layers of protection to strike deep into the archmage’s chest.

Solom glares at Kyree in shock as one spell trickles off his lips, but he recovers quickly enough to bathe the remaining group in frigid cold.  It has far less of an effect than he had hoped, however, and for the first time he entertains the notion that he might in fact lose.

This is sufficient to alter his plans, and he holds off his foes with a jet of flame while escaping to a lower floor.  Again they surprise him, and rake his back as he departs.

Kyree runs to the doorway of the third level, peering down, but can see no one to fight.  He exchanges a look with Calla as Trella and Rhien fly after Solom with Snicker in tow.

The latter pair finds naught but a discarded potion vial, and immediately turns back.  They make it nearly all the way before slamming into an invisible wall that now blocks their forward movement.

Calla wheels to face the interior of the room after watching her companions denied access; the rogue knows a trap when she sees it.  Kyree picks up on this, and his sharp eyes spot motion as the archmage begins casting another spell.  Unfortunately, this time  his rapidly-fired arrow misses, and the room is abruptly dropped into utter darkness.

Trella feels at the invisible wall filled with inky blackness with her hands, quickly confirming that the wall of force is of the hemispherical variety.  Getting an idea, she uses her staff to call a huge earth elemental, which she orders (via pointing, growling, and gesturing profusely) to smash its way through the stone floors between levels so she can get through.  Rhien chooses to wait with her, taking the opportunity to close a few of his own wounds.

Inside the wall, the combatants lash out into the darkness.  Lightning and more solid projectiles fly, doing minimal injury to those struck, before the three take up new positions, looking for an advantage.

Outside, Trella rages impotently against the wall, and angrily calls a second elemental to help the first.  Together they begin making swift progress through the thick stone.  Rhien closes his eyes and meditates on suffering.

Kyree and Calla hear Solom begin to run, and they fire at the source of the movement.    Both miss, and suddenly Calla feels delicate drow hands grasp her tunic and begin to push her in the direction of the prismatic sphere.  She resists, and were it not for the high stakes, the contest of strength between the two might seem comical.  There is nothing funny about the outcome, however, as Solom uses the advantage of size to shove her through all seven layers of the sphere.  Fire, electricity, and acid assail her, but she twists and turns her body and avoids damage from each.  Poison wracks her body, but her constitution expels it after a mighty effort.  Finally, though, the halfling’s luck runs out.  Her body begins turning to stone upon touching the fifth layer, her mind shatters on the sixth, and both are sent to another plane at the seventh and last.  Suddenly lacking resistance, Solom collapses to the ground inside his sphere, cackling with glee. “Five!” he screams, earning him a futile shot from Kyree.

Trella releases an anguished moan, and waits against the ceiling of the lower level for her servants to do their work.

Kyree hears the elementals, but can do little but continues his deadly game with Solom.  He fires when he hears the archmage emerge, striking true once; the elf is struck by ten mystic missiles in return.  Undaunted he continues his assault, and this time hears the thunk of two arrows.  Again ten missiles blast shallow craters in his flesh in response, and he despairs that he will eventually be the loser of this game.

Kyree is saved for the moment when the elementals finally finish their task.  The floor five feet from both archer and mage vanishes abruptly in a cloud of dust, allowing Trella the dire bear to burst through.  She easily scents the foul odor of the drow, and furiously pounds him with her opposable staff.  Rhien follows, though he fares less well.

Surrounded, Solom dips into his nearly depleted spell repertory in an attempt to end the battle; the gout of acid he releases burns, but fails to do the job.  Activating his wand yet again proves more effective, and the five missiles it fires are enough to send Trella into unconsciousness.  This time, Solom does not verbalize the body count.

This is little comfort to Kyree and Rhien, as neither they nor the elementals manage more than marginal success in their counterattack, and afterward the elf is left reeling upon being on the receiving end of another barrage of missiles.

Rhien utters a prayer to Ilmater, hoping that Erdrick's earlier speech proves correct.  The monk moves in for a grapple attempt, and this time he manages to take hold of Solom's forearms, overcoming the mage's desperation with superior strength.

Solom snarls and speaks a single word, vanishing.  He reappears in front of his sphere, whence he launches yet another barrage of missiles at Kyree, simultaneous with the latter's firing of a volley of arrows.  Three of the archer's projectiles hit, the last stuck quivering in the drow's chest.  Solom, however, indeed wins in the end as Kyree's body, riddled with small wounds, fails.  The elf collapses to the floor, barely clinging to life.

Solom wheezes, forcing air out of injured lungs through blood-flecked lips.  He stares hatefully at Rhien during the barest of pauses that separates the actions of the two.  Then there is no more time for thought, as the monk is upon him.

Rhien's hands again dig into his forearms, but this time there is no more magic with which to escape.  Solom fires his wand off twice at point blank range, but Rhien's innate resistance is proof against the lesser magic of the wand.  When the monk's hands begin to squeeze, causing injury, the great Archmage of Szith Morcane does the only thing he can think to: he jerks free with a great effort and retreats to his prismatic sphere.

For an instant Rhien contemplates charging in after him, but abandons that idea quickly in favor of forcing Trella's expiring form to down a potent curative draught.

She is up in a flash, appraising the field with an intellect as bestial as her form.  Noting only a blind mage available to strike, she pounces, and tears him to chunks with tooth and claw.

Rhien turns his head from the grisly sight and shouts, “Trella!”

This earns the dire bear's attention, and for a moment her ire.  But the monk's gentle demeanor, even in the midst of this carnage, calms her slightly, and his gesture at Kyree's fallen form brings her back to herself.  The druid resumes her usual shape and lets a healing circle flow from her battered body, reviving Kyree.

The elf sits up with a groan.  “I’m still alive?”  He sounds somewhat surprised.

A voice cuts him off from within the sphere, as the archmage pleads for his life.  “I can help you.  We can make a deal.”

Trella considers it not for an instant, as her delicate emotional state tips swiftly back into rage.  “Your sphere won’t last forever, coward.  I’ll rip off your head and feast on your brain.”  Kyree groans and whispers a spell of healing.

Solom abandons his efforts at negotiation and charges out of his sphere, wand ready.  The decimated party leaps to the attack one final time.  Kyree embeds another arrow in drow flesh; Trella grabs the mage by the arms.  Solom unloads ten missiles into Trella’s stomach.

Trella reels back, letting go.  Kyree fires one last arrow, puncturing Solom’s left eye.  The archmage gasps, and finally collapses.  Trella falls to her knees, and tries hard not to cry.

_[To be continued…]
_


----------



## htetickrt (Apr 19, 2005)

The End of Szith Morcane​
Snicker tries to fly over to Kai’s body, but is repelled by the wall of force.  He keens once, a cry of pain and loss, and then takes the long way out through the hole in the floor.  Rhien goes with him to collect the sorceress’ body, tears falling like blood from a wound that cannot heal.

Kyree rifles through the bodies of the dead drow and half-ogre, looking for anything of value.  He quails upon touching the barbarian’s demon armor and unholy spiked chain, unable to grasp the evil implements without negative energy suffusing and weakening him.

Trella snaps to at this point, and orders her two elementals to pound the foul things into sheets.  They comply with efficient strength, rendering both forever useless before departing for their own plane.

When they are gone, she turns to her remaining friends with a lump in her throat.  “What’s the tally?” she asks quietly.

Rhien answers in a similar tone.  “Kai and Chag are both dead and poisoned.  Khail and Erdrick were slain by more conventional means, though I fear that Erdrick’s altered behavior immediately before his demise indicates a serious mental injury.  Quid and Steve both live, in a sense, encased within stone.  We will need to find a potent arcane or divine caster to return them to sentience.

Snicker interjects with a telepathic command.  <Kai can do it.  Bring her back!>

Rhien tries to respond placatingly, but Snicker will have none of it.  <She can use her ring.  Bring her back!>

Rhien nods, understanding.  “If Kai can indeed perform this task, that would be highly beneficial.  We’ll bring her back as soon as we can, Snicker.”

Mollified, the pseudodragon wraps its tail protectively around her unmoving neck and half-closes his eyes in watchful rest.

Trella stares sadly at the prismatic sphere.  “What about Calla?”

This time it is Kyree’s turn to speak.  “I don’t honestly know.  We were both fighting the archmage in the dark, when she apparently was shoved into the prismatic sphere.  We’ll have to wait until it falls, I suppose.”  His voice gets softer.  “Though that bastard counted her off, so I don't think the prospects of her survival are good.”

Trella sighs and rises to her feet.  “Fine.  Gather up all of the bodies and put them in Khail’s portable hole.  As soon as the wall of force falls, I want all of these rooms ransacked.  Get anything of value that we could sell.  As soon as the sphere drops we’ll get whatever remains of Calla and get out of here.  I don’t want to see this blasted place a minute longer than I have to.”

Rhien and Kyree nod and get to the grisly tasks of body collection and corpse searching.  Snicker at first refuses to leave Kai’s side, but relents after the situation is explained to him three or four times.

Kyree discovers that the wall of force is gone about twenty minutes later, and moves into the richly appointed room that apparently served as Solom’s bedchambers.  Decadent luxury was the order of the day when the room was furnished, with the centerpiece a gigantic bed draped with soft silks and velvets.  A low dresser next to the bed holds a smoldering brazier that sends thick smoke with a heavy odor of sandalwood into the air.  A plush divan smothered with pillows stands against another wall, and on the floor beside it sits a short stack of books.  Kyree dumps the last into a sack for Kai’s later perusal, where they are soon joined by a pile of precious metals, courtesy of a secret safe.

While the archer explores the bedroom, Rhien searches the library.  Books and scrolls spill over every available shelf surface, their organization not aided by the wrestling match that just took place in the chamber.  Rhien shovels them all into Quid’s bag of holding, shrugging off the burst of fire that arises from Solom's trapped spellbooks.

Trella picks half-heartedly through the spoils in the audience chamber, mostly waiting for the prismatic sphere to fail.  When it finally does so the absence of Calla is not really a surprise, but it nevertheless sends the druid into a paroxysm of anger, which only passes once she runs out of curios to smash.  

Rhien joins her once he is done.  “We'll get her back, Trella.”

Tears spill unchecked down her ruddy cheeks.  “Yes, we will.  Or I'll bring down the whole bloody Underdark on top of the drow.”

The monk looks away, uncomfortable both with the sentiment and the slight echo of it he feels in his own darkening thoughts.

Kyree emerges soon after.  “Let's go.  I feel the need to be aboveground.”

The trek back to the surface is slow and silent and, as beautiful as the night is on the surface, it provides little comfort to the trio.  Rhien offers, “I'll stand watch here,” and the two elves take him up on it, moving to the woods.

They come back on the third day from the death of Solom to return Kai to the living.   Her body, wrapped in cloth within the extradimensional space, is withdrawn and laid out along the bare earth by Rhien.  “We have need of you, my friend,” the monk whispers, and smooths her lustrous hair back from her face.  The touch triggers the potent magic of the gloves, and she returns to life with a start as her soul reenters her body.  The sorceress struggles to a sitting position, made difficult by Snicker's need to wrap his tail around her neck just then.  Once in place, the pseudodragon purrs somewhat smugly.

Kai’s first action is took look around for her friends.  “Khail, Quid, Calla, and Erdrick, are they...?”

Rhien nods sadly.  “Khail and Erdrick are dead.  Quid is stone, but Snicker informs us that you can restore her.”  The tiny dragon exclaims <She can!>, earning a flicker of a smile from the young woman.  “Of Calla, we know not.  Her body was not found.”  The monk pauses, looking pained.  “I am sorry I failed you.”

Kai sighs and rises to her feet.  “We all failed, Rhien.”  Her voice quavers as she says this, but she dutifully alters her ring to provide the service needed.  “I'll restore them, and then....”  Her voice trails off, leaving the thought unstated.

As the stone melts off of Quid, the priestess prepares to continue the battle from below.  Eventually the stubborn Waukeenar is convinced of the party's victory—though she does point out the need to desecrate the altar in Szith Morcane to alleviate her geas—and is given the accumulated treasure to assess its worth.  This calms her, as the others knew it would, and the partially-reconstituted party settles in to make the hard decisions: How to bring back Khail, Erdrick, and Calla, how long to wait before returning to the Underdark, and how to approach the city of Maerimydra to stop the Great Revenance, whatever that might be.

[End of Part I.  At this point I started making more story-hour-ish notes, so hopefully I can now keep up a faster posting rate.  Hopefully my pauses haven't scared too many people off.  As always, feedback is extremely welcome.]


----------



## htetickrt (Apr 26, 2005)

Regroup and Rearm​
Hands clenching and unclenching in barely restrained anger, Trella moves to the mausoleum in which Earl’s stony form resides.  “I’ll help with the altar, Quid, but I want Earl restored.”

Though a little pale and distant, Kai agrees with a nod to return the unicorn to flesh.  "I'll come along to help deal with the altar, too, just in case anything unexpected crops up," she adds quietly to no one in particular.  Then she withdraws, cradling Snicker, to think things over for a while.

Kyree’s eyes pass quickly over her, his entire demeanor betraying his preoccupation.  “Let’s wait on everything else until after restoring Earl.  For now, I need to be alone with my thoughts.”  He abruptly trots off toward the nearby woods.

Quid yawns, stretching out stiff muscles.  “We should rescue Calla as well, though possibly after dealing with the Drow threat.”

Kai pulls herself together somewhat after overhearing this, and returns to the discussion, though still not making eye contact.  "I don't think we should leave her any longer than we have to," she begins, and after a pause explains, "We might not survive the next threat, and I'm sure she would really appreciate every effort we can make on her behalf.  We should take care of Quid's geas first, and then try to help Calla, if it doesn't interfere with raising poor Khail."

With her geas flaring up again, Quid offers, “I need to go back by tomorrow with the appropriate spell memorized.  I also need to return to the destroyed marketplace and consecrate it in the name of Waukeen.  I don’t want to hole up here for too long, though, due to the rising threat of this Great Revenance.  While we’re shopping, I’ll put out more feelers for information, and maybe see if I can acquire some funding or other aid.”

Trella says, “I’ll scry for Calla before we leave for the altar.  I’m going to hallow it after you desecrate it, just to tick off whatever craven gods these drow worship.  Frigging underground dirt bags.”

Rhien coughs delicately.  “Not to dampen your fervor, Trella, but is it really your intent to expend such a large amount of your own personal energy and wealth on making an altar to Lolth hallowed in the name of Silvanus?”

Trella sighs.  “Fine, party pooper, I’ll just consecrate it instead.  Happy?”

Rhien smiles wanly.  “Greatly.”

Kyree pads back into camp then, startling those present with the sudden opinion, “No, money is a more valuable resource to us now than time.  Aside from Quid's geas, there's no need to rush back in there.  We've done a lot of damage to the drow in there; the raids should stop, or at least be seriously reduced, for the next tenday or two.  We could always camp out near the exit to the cave to make sure no one gets out.  But when we go back in there, we need to make sure we're as well equipped as possible.  If waiting a few more days lets us go back in there with better weapons, better armor, better healing, or whatever, I say we wait.  Besides, it'll give us time to figure out how to cure Erdrick's insanity and to find out where Calla is.  

"In the meantime," he continues, looking up towards the sky, "I need to go somewhere to take care of something.  Kai, or Quid, could you teleport me to Ssrenshen, in Deepingdale?  The Common name for it is Moonrise Hill."

Trella whirls on the archer.  “I thought you had gone off to be alone?”

Kyree placidity is unaffected.  “I had.  Now I am back.”

Trella refuses to let him off so easily.  “You only left a minute ago.”

“I travel quickly.  It is the way of the elves.”

The druid snorts incredulously.  “A year ago you weren’t sure drow were evil; now you’re lecturing me about elves?”

“I have been getting in touch with my spiritual side.”

“Was that the side that took you to the woods and back in about a minute?”

“No, my feet did that.”

“Argh!” Trella screams and stalks off.

“What’s she so mad about?” Kyree inquires.  He is met with silence.

Kai changes the subject, having warmed up to the strategic line of thought. “As I said, I’ll bring back Earl today, but perhaps we should summon a scout to find out for us what's going on in the Underdark before making any further decisions?  If there's no sign of a gathering assault, it won't hurt us to take more time to prepare; otherwise I think we have the resources to resurrect our friends now.”

Quid responds to Kai’s earlier point, "I agree that the rescuing of Calla is of utmost importance but I fear for the other lives that may be lost if this drow threat is left unchecked. I will concede waiting a tenday if the rest think that is appropriate. 
Kyree's logic stands to reason.  However, the time delay in retrieving Calla may have devastating consequences. A full accounting of costs and benefits must be made.

“‘The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few ... or the one’: Book of Khan 23:6.”

Kyree uncomfortably shifts his weight and agrees that Calla should be rescued as soon as possible.  Noting the elf’s obvious guilt, Rhien places a hand on his shoulder in sympathy.

Quid smiles, unable to completely stifle a joke.  Covering, she offers to teleport Kyree to where he desires to go, as long as he is willing to wait a day.  The elf agrees, deciding to leave after the geas is removed and Calla is scried.  He smiles and attempts to express his appreciation, but Quid has already stopped paying attention.  Kyree resolves to offer money next time.

Quid turns back to Kai.  "A scout would be a good idea. Perhaps Erdrick can send a few of his men, assuming some of them are scouts. I can try connections within the church. Perhaps a Divine Seeker of Waukeen can be found? Or, I could summon a greater or lesser planar ally who could scout for us in exchange for some kind of favor. That may not be a bad idea, if someone has a good idea of what to summon."

Trella is inclined to agree with Kyree that even if it takes longer, saving money is prudent.  Getting a sudden idea, she says, "Let's find Erdrick's buddies, his fellow soldiers or whatever."  She shrugs at her lack of articulation.  "They need to know he fell in a good fight.  They might even pitch in for his resurrection.  Can't hurt, right?"

Quid answers approvingly, “True, true.  Didn’t Erdrick say they’d be here soon?  May as well wait.”  Soon after saying her piece, the priest laments the lack of a wizard in the group, for one might be most fruitfully outfitted with the spoils of victory that she is now moving to examine in more detail.

Kai is dumbfounded by Quid’s assessment, focusing on one particular item.  "You don't want the headband?  Doesn't anybody else want the headband?"  She looks around in bewilderment at the rest of the group.  "I guess I'd understand if everyone else really wants to sell it, but…just think what it might be like to go through life that much smarter!"

Trella rolls her eyes, puts on the headband, adjusts its fit, and sticks her tongue out at everyone.  Then she grabs a stick and tries to solve the three-color map problem in the dirt.

Kai looks taken aback, but eventually gives Trella a smile that, while really pretty weak, is also the first she's cracked since she was resurrected.  “Shall I restore Earl now, Trella?”

“Most assuredly,” Trella chirps.  Kai groans and casts her spell; Earl and Trella head off into the woods to renew their bond soon after.

Kyree stares after her.  “Why is she entering the forest if she was put out by my doing so earlier?”  Kai gapes at him.  “What?” he inquires innocently.

The next morning Trella is back in camp, her enhanced intellect flooding her mind with new ideas.  Soon a scrying pool is constructed, and the druid has located Calla’s location within its depths.

She finds the stone form of Calla standing intact upon a raised marble dais that rests in a windowed nook of a larger room.  Outside, plumes of crimson magma erupt from frozen geysers, ignoring the unlikelihood of such a pairing.

Trella gulps and draws back from the halfling to take in the rest of the room, but she finds little to assuage her growing sense of hopelessness.  A mammoth humanoid, which can only be a titan, sits idly in a gargantuan divan, toying with a knife many times larger than the druid while humming a long forgotten ditty to himself and pondering his new statuary.

Leaping to a stand, Trella exclaims, “We have to save her!”

Rhien and Kai share a look, and the latter shakes her head sadly at Trella.  “As much as I would like to, the titan is imprisoned in Carceri.  Even if we could find our way in, we would have no way of escaping.  We’d be doomed along with her.”  The sorceress’ pained look illustrates her obvious distaste for this eventuality.

Trella’s shoulders slump.  “Mightn’t resurrection or even metempsychosis be a viable option?”

Kyree starts.  “Metem-whatsis?” he blurts.

Kai shakes her head.  “Her soul resides with her; as long as the titan keeps her safe, we can do nothing.”

Rhien adds, “We’d best hope he does keep her intact, as Carceri is proof against escape of the souls of man—or halfling.”

Trella sighs, feeling badly.  “Very well, a rescue has to wait until after we complete this mission.  However, before heading back down, we should let it be known to the more honorable and noble folk, like those Zeran freaks, that a person battling an evil drow archmage was lost and is in need of rescue.  Maybe they'll beat us to it as some holy quest or whatever.  That way, if we don't return, someone knows she is lost.  I will also let other druids know as I plan to make some local inquiries on another matter."

Chastened by chance yet again, the party separates to think and pray, readying themselves for a brief trip below.  Between breakfast and heading out, however, the long awaited troupe of Erdrick’s followers arrive, stare with distrust at the party, and fall into an uneasy silence.

Quickly taking their measure, Trella advances toward them.  Noting the presence of the Helmite priest in the lead, she inclines her head slightly.  “Well met, all,” she begins, smiling toothily, “you must be Erdrick’s men.”  A woman in the back coughs, and Trella smoothly amends, “and women.”

The Helmite gets right to the point.  “Where is Lord Erdrick?”

Trella’s tanned face moves gracefully to a sympathetic frown.  “I am afraid he is presently deceased, along with his mount, Chagripor.  Both fought bravely below in the bowels of the Underdark, but fell to the combined might of a warrior of utmost puissance and an odious drow archmage.  We have healed both of their mystical afflictions, but I fear that we must wait another five days to return him to life.  Unless, of course, you have some means of resurrecting him?”  The druid looks hopeful.

The Helmite blanches, and slowly shakes his head as he attempts to process the loss of his leader and friend.  When he announces his uselessness, Trella starts counting backwards from ten.  "Nine...eight..."

Kyree snickers, “Wow, that headband is proving its worth already.”

The druid swiftly changes shape into a triceratops and roars at Kyree, daring the elf to say that again.  Kyree quickly backs off, muttering, “Oh, like no one else noticed her wild swings in speech patterns.  If you ask me, the thing’s defective.”  He stops muttering at a glare from the triceratops.

Erdrick’s dismayed men retreat in fear at Trella’s display.  After the druid returns to her usual form, the priest suggests that Erdrick’s body be brought back to Cormyr where he and his mount can be raised 'properly' by a high priest of Helm.  Clearly uncertain of the exact intentions of their late leader's new acquaintances, especially since both Erdrick and his mount have died in their company, the troupe stares suspiciously at the party.

Trella shrugs and agrees to take the bodies of them both to a priest of their choosing.  She recounts his battles in more depth, including his last, emphasizing his potency and bravery whenever possible.  Then she shows them her many scars and relates the stories behind them.  This keeps them busy for a while, until Kyree interrupts.

“We're not paying for that, right?” the elf asks.  “Because I thought we decided it made sense to resurrect people with Rhien's gloves because we need to save our cash.”

Kyree’s words snap them out of their attentiveness.  The Helmite’s face grows dour, and he says, “Our duty to Cormyr and Helm and Erdrick is clear.  We will procure a wagon for the noble Chagripor, and return the bodies of our leader and his mount to the head priest of Helm in our region.  He is more than capable of resurrecting him as repayment of past services rendered, in addition to a small donation.  I trust that Erdrick has received his just share of any loot you have received?”

Trella nods, sighing.  The priest concludes, “Excellent.  Knobbyfoot will take down your contact information, so that the mighty Erdrick might find you again if you have been judged honorable.”

A young man moves forward shyly, brandishing quill and ink while unwinding a scroll.  “Official group name?”

“Huh?” Trella replies.

The man blushes.  “Your, er, officially registered Cormyrian group name, miss.”

Kyree giggles, “Miss?”

Trella glares at the elf.  “We’ve never been registered.  You can call us the Stepchildren of Fate, kid.”

Knobbyfoot dutifully scribes this, all the while looking disturbed at the breach of protocol.  “Likely location?”

“Um, somewhere in the Underdark,” Trella offers helpfully.

The Helmite drags Knobbyfoot away before he even finishes scribing the last answer.  “We’ll be in touch,” he grumbles, and leads the troupe away, after his soldiers secure Erdrick, Chagripor, and their share of the loot.

Kyree looks pensively at them.  “I don’t think they’re coming back.”

Trella scowls.  “Maybe you should wear the headband.”

The archer throws up his arms.  “Hey, someone has to say this stuff when Khail’s not around.”

Quid sighs at the diminished pile of gold.  “Can we go eliminate my geas now?”

Kai sighs back at her, staring at Erdrick’s retreating soldiers.  “I can’t see why not.”  A half-hour later the group again stands within the House Morcane level.

Quid moves to the ladder up, but Kyree holds her back.   “Didn’t we leave a mess of dead bodies here?” the elf asks.

Trella barely looks up from her thoughts as she replies, “Yeah, wall-to-wall.  Why?”

Kyree gestures expansively.  “Well, do you see all of them?  For instance, that troll?”

Trella gapes at the room, but cannot make the huge fighter return.  Shaking her surprise off, she says, “It doesn’t matter; he was toast.  Let’s move on.”

Kyree shrugs and moves to the ladder.  Once the party ascends, Quid makes everyone ethereal, and all rush the likely location of the ghost.  Rhien reaches her first, pummeling the priestess of Lolth with a series of five blows that sends her reeling.  Trella’s staff provides the finishing touches, and the priestess is again destroyed before she can act.

This time, however, Quid is prepared to end her existence for good.  Summoning Waukeen’s holy essence, the merchant priest shatters the altar to Lolth with a mighty evocation.  As the broken stone slabs tumble to the ground, Quid feels the geas lift, and she breathes a sigh of relief.

Trella, not satisfied with this, proceeds to consecrate the area in the name of Silvanus, relaxing only when positive energy floods the dark area.

Quid taps her head.  “Great minds think alike,” she says, and takes a short trip to the bazaar level.  There she consecrates the area to Waukeen, visibly pleased as this too radiates holiness, in addition to strong economic potential.  Then the party returns to the surface to continue its plans.


----------



## htetickrt (May 3, 2005)

A Little Reconnaissance​
As discussed, upon reaching the surface Quid invokes a potent prayer, calling a paragon of celestial beauty to her side.  A brief telepathic exchange ensues, eventually leading to an agreement to exchange time for time, though the extensive bickering over the fine print would have driven any non-Waukeenar mad long before the end of the bargaining process.

Kyree taps his feet impatiently against the soft earth as the astral deva leaves.  “Time to go now?”

Quid sighs, forced down too soon from her transaction high.  “Sure.  Kai, are you coming?  We’ll shop afterwards.”

Kai nods.  “Will the rest of you be fine here?” she inquires, but Trella and Earl are already gone, off into the woods.

Rhien smiles slightly.  “Try to enjoy yourself.  I’ll watch the entrance.”  Kai’s answering look is difficult to decipher.

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

“So, that’s where we stand.”  Having brought the newly resurrected Khail up to speed, Quid returns to cataloguing the value of her recent purchases before their inevitable depreciation makes her dealings seem less beneficial.

Khail studies the sky, watching the thick black clouds roll in.  “I am sorry I could not be of more help against Solom.”

Rhien heads off such talk.  “We are just happy to have you back.”

Kyree mutters, “Yeah, happy,” while thumbing through a stack of yellowed parchment.  Perched on his shoulder is a fine example of a hawk; the fact that it has not yet been introduced to the party does not seem to bother it as it aggressively preens itself.

Khail is nonplussed.  “Is something different about you, friend Kyree?” he asks, and then when Kyree does not respond, follows with, “Who is your new friend?”

It takes the elf a full minute to register the latter question.  When he finally does so, he favors the paladin with a smile.  “This is Spot.  He was nearly struck by an arrow during the tribute to Solonar, and decided to come with me after I healed him.  Isn’t he splendid?”  Kyree ruffles Spot’s feathers affectionately.  Quid mouths the word ‘splendid’ behind the elf’s back, almost causing Kai to choke on her lunch.

The elf notices and narrows his eyes.  “I heard that.  We elves are nothing if not observant.”

“Enjoyed your time in Deepingdale, did you?” Quid queries, stifling her own laugh.

“Greatly.  They gave me some literature to read.  And the archery competition was the best in which I’ve participated.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“Can I interest you in a tale about Solonar?  He has something for everyone, I think.”

Quid gapes incredulously.  “Are you proselytizing?  To me?”

“Um, maybe?”

“I’m a Waukeenar, Kyree.”

“Oh, do they not like archery?”

Quid throws up her hands.  “No, we find it morally offensive,” she exclaims, and storms off into the crypt entrance, to escape both Kyree and the incipient rain.

Kyree follows once the first drops spot a sheet of parchment.  “What’s wrong with her?” he asks no one in particular.  The others choose to assume the question is rhetorical.

A few hours later, Trella returns, skipping through the heart of the thunderstorm.  Behind her is a hulking brute of a bear, his cold eyes glaring at those assembled as if he had just found his next meal.  The druid, unperturbed by rain or beast, smiles at the assemblage, bites off a hunk of stale bread and old cheese, and says, “Guys, Mr. Flopsy.  Mr. Flopsy, guys.”  The dire bear roars a hello.  Or perhaps he is just angry; it’s difficult to tell.

Quid starts.  "Flopsy?"

Trella replies, "That's MR. FLOPSY to you, b*tch."  The druid playfully thwacks Quid in the arm, then laughs, strips off her clothes, and delights in the torrential rain beating against her naked form.  Khail blushes and suddenly finds his muddy boots very interesting.

His awkward silence is thankfully broken with the sudden appearance of the beautiful astral deva.  Kyree, having noted her invisible entrance a moment earlier, chuckles, “Saw you.”

The deva raises an eyebrow, but does not respond.  Instead she addresses Quid.  “Pursuant to our contract, I have engaged in extensive reconnaissance in what you term the ‘Underdark’ over a span of three of your days.  I regret that the opportunity to disrupt the enemy did not arise, though my hewing to subsection three’s clause allowing for no direct confrontations perhaps had something to do with this.  To complete the contract, I will now offer up my gathered information.”

Kyree looks confused, flipping quickly through his stack of parchment.  “I thought I read that devas were more, uh…noble?”

The deva frowns.  “I am the very epitome of nobility.  Why do you doubt this, mortal?  I sense no taint about you.”

Quid intervenes before he can further anger the celestial.  “He’s just not used to the glorious terminology of the contract.  Please, proceed with your report.”

“Very well, but I will keep my eye on you, strange elf.”  Kyree grumbles; the deva addresses Quid.

“The tunnel you have already found leads to the Underdark, and for a span of seventeen miles there is naught but roving bands of tainted souls.  I would be surprised if one who could compel my presence would have much difficulty with them, though there is an element of stochasticity involved.

“The road forks after this.  Left a tunnel of thirty-five miles led to a dead end and a trio of odious spirit naga, their sickly yellow eyes viewing me as their next meal.  Needless to say my heavy mace bashed in their heads with alacrity, and I took my leave of them.  I give you their goods as per subsection five of our agreement, factoring their expected value into the cost of your future service.”  She pauses to distribute the minor treasures, before continuing.

“Taking then the other passage at the fork, I made my way to the Lake of Shadows indicated on your map.  There I encountered a band of stone giants guarding the passage onward, but they were not hostile and our parley revealed to me the presence of kuo-toas and the ‘devil-kraken’ they worship.  Plus something called a ‘lobster-crawler.’

“After passing invisibly over the water, I came to a sheer cliff face after an additional eighteen miles.  There I met a cadre of kir-lanan gargoyles, and was forced to retreat from the potent shadow dragon they serve after being greatly weakened by its cone of insidious shadows.  Knowing I alone could not likely triumph against the dragon, I thought it best to return and impart what wisdom I could, in satisfaction of our contract.

“You may now ask of me what you will.”

Quid inclines her head respectfully.  "Thank you for your report. Can I ask your name, in case I may require future service? I also have a few other questions."

The deva answers, "You may call me...Arbitrage.  My truename is not for you to know."

Quid smiles.  “Thank you, Arbitrage.  It is a name of honor and beauty.  If I may ask, how deep is the water?”

“There is no flattery term in my utility function, so your blandishments will not alter my behavior.  Not having entered the water, I cannot answer your question.”

Quid continues, "Can you hazard a guess as to what the big lobster crawler was that the giants referred to?"

“I prefer to act when I have perfect information only.  The mathematics are easier that way.”

“I don’t suppose you have any additional information about the kraken or the dragon, do you?”

The deva smirks.  “Do you doubt your contracting skills, Quidlyn of Waukeen?  Do you believe there is a loophole I could use to withhold information to sell later at a profit?”

“Of course not,” Quid coughs, but a glimmer of uncertainty flashes in her eyes.  “But it cannot hurt to ask.  It’s just cheap talk, after all.”

“Waukeen would be pleased with your progress.  No, in answer to your question I do not have any additional information.”

Kyree puts in, “Then why did you ask if we had any questions?”

“It is de rigueur.”

“Huh?”

This draws Trella’s attention, and she stops wrestling with Mr. Flopsy to add her own opinion to the mix.  “Listen lady, we’ve met solars and fought pit fiends, so drop the ‘tude.  We’re not impressed, and no one mocks Kyree but us.”

“I was not mocking your friend.”

“Whatever.”

Arbitrage turns back to Quid.  “You have chosen to surround yourself with a most strange assortment of mortals, Quidlyn.  I hope you are getting a sufficient return on your investment here.”

“Don’t worry, I am,” Quid replies, smiling.

“Good.  It would be difficult to enter the highest levels of Waukeen’s service without demonstrating such.  Regardless, this completes my end of the contract.  I will return to call on you when Waukeen requires your aid.  Be ready."  The deva vanishes.

Khail sighs.  “Such a creature of beauty, yet so base her discourse.”

Quid scowls.  “Who are you calling base?”

“Hmm?  Nothing; I meant nothing by it.  It is just that business is so coarse an endeavor.”

“Coarse?”

“Well, yes, I think it so.  Nothing personal, of course.  You are devoid of taint.”

“Well gee, thanks Khail.”

The paladin turns to Kyree.  “Have I said something wrong?”

Kyree shrugs.  “She’s just touchy about religion.  Probably because she doesn’t know the teachings of Solonar the way I do.”

Quid shakes her head.  “I’m surrounded by idiots,” she mutters.

Trella interjects, “Speaking of idiots, does anyone want to cowboy up some funds for invisibility and flight items?  Sounds like that’s the best way to go.”

Kai replies, “It sounds like the journey is long, and with the size of our band,” she glances at Mr. Flopsy, “I’m not sure it’s feasible to keep everyone flying and invisible the whole way.  Wind walking might be a viable option.  Still, we could end up trapped between two warring factions, or worse.”

“Plus, anything that would be fooled by simple invisibility would likely not be much of a threat, anyway,” Quid adds.  “We could wind walk past the kraken, though.”

Kai answers, “Let’s walk to the lake, and speak with the giants when there.  Perhaps they have a way of dealing with the kraken, so that we can conserve resources for the dragon.”

Trella nods.  “It’s a plan then.  We leave first thing in the morning.”

“Why then?” Rhien asks.

“I want to enjoy the rain a little more,” Trella answers with a laugh.  “Come on Mr. Flopsy, let’s get muddy!”

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

Two dozen or so hours later, the druid’s mood is far less upbeat, as she and her companions creep along the Deep Wastes of the Underdark, straining to sift the slightest sound of trouble from the ambient noise of the echoing tunnel.  Not for the first time, Quid curses as she stumbles into a frigid stream.”

“Argh!  I think it’s been days since I’ve had feeling in my toes.”

“We’ve only been down here for about eight hours, Quid,” Kai grumbles, trying not to think about the water seeping into her own boots.

“Seems like days, anyway.”

“Shhh,” Kyree cuts in.  “I hear chanting ahead.  We’ve got company.”


----------



## htetickrt (May 8, 2005)

The Journey to the Lake​
Before another action can be taken, a dense wall of what appears to be webbing springs into being in front of the group, completely sealing off the party from whatever lurks in the dark. Trella shares a look with Mr. Flopsy, prepared to charge as soon as Kai tackles the wall.

Kyree aims high, firing a full spread of arrows at the lurker he senses above.  The odd creature reels upward under the multiple impacts, but the elf does not comprehend sufficient details of its alien physiology to discern its health after his assault.

Kai sends a narrow bolt of lightning off in the direction of the chanting.  The bolt strikes the webbing with potent force, but fizzles out after traveling less than an inch through the iron-hard substance.

Trella notes that the wall does not catch fire after Kai’s bolt and curses creatively in Sylvan.  Switching gears, she charges the webbing, hacking at it with her quarterstaff.  Trella discovers that the stuff is no more vulnerable to martial persuasion, however, as her weapon barely widens the dent made by the lightning.  Nevertheless, Earl charges in behind her and adds a nick to the total damage with his horn.

Khail leaves the lurkers to others and advances on the web, cutting a chunk an inch thick through it.  The remaining four inches mock him with their interconnectedness, as does the slow chanting that continues from the other side.

The lurker leaps down upon Kyree, seeking to smother him, but the elf nimbly avoids it.  Vulnerable now on the ground, Rhien ends its life with a brutal axe kick that ruptures its centrally located internal organs.  The monk approaches the web after this, joining the rest of the band as they tear into the substance with blade, claw, and spell.

Slow progress is made, but the wall is not breached before its maker’s hand emerges from inside it, unfettered by its strong strands.  The long-nailed fingers, delicate and dusky, twist in the gestures of magic, summoning a carpet of spiders and a thin black beam.  The former blankets the area, making concentration impossible; the latter targets Khail, sending him to his knees as it saps his very life force.  Seconds later a cage of green energy descends upon him, but the paladin manages to roll out of the way just in time to avoid being trapped.

The group speeds its efforts, and soon after breaches the wall of webbing, revealing a matched pair: a female drow, attired in robes bearing numerous arachnid-oriented ornamentation, and a gargantuan stone spider, with sharp jade spikes studding each of its eight huge legs.

Khail is unimpressed, shouting, “For good!” despite the bleeding wound the spider opens in his abdomen as he charges.  Trella rolls her eyes, tasking Mr. Flopsy with stifling the drow.  This the dire bear does with aplomb, wrapping the thin humanoid up in his giant claws.  The drow struggles, but cannot escape during the two seconds it takes for Kyree to line up his shot and end the drow’s life with a volley of perfectly-placed arrows.

While the elf pumps his fist in the air, his companions turn to the spider, reducing it to rubble in a matter of moments.  Chunks the size of an ogre’s head smash against the cavern floor, and a cloud of fine jade dust billows from each impact.  Between the corpses of tiny spiders and the particulate matter in the air, the passage back quickly becomes impassable, and the party stumbles and chokes its way further into the Underdark.

The group stops to discard the drow’s looted corpse after escaping the mess.  Trella watches Khail and Kyree do the honors as she taps her staff to the ground worriedly.  “Sound echoes wicked much here, doesn’t it Mr. Flopsy?”

The dire bear makes a sound not unlike Chewbacca’s signature response, and Trella looks worried again, though this time due to potential lawsuits.  “We should expect trouble,” she finishes wanly.

Khail returns, looking proud.  “Trouble is my middle name.”

Quid raises an eyebrow.  “That beam drain your brain?”

Khail answers, “Huh?”

“Forget it.”

Trella puts in, “When you’re done making jokes, I could use some help getting this ring on Mr. Flopsy’s paw.”  No one takes her up on her request.

*********

“That was disgusting.”  Quid is most sure of this fact.

Trella looks up from picking purple worm innards off of her hide armor.  “Yeah, umber hulks are ugly buggers,” she agrees.

Quid goggles.  “I was talking about the exploding worm.”

“Oh, that.  They don’t normally explode. We just were a little too enthusiastic, I think.”

“I sort of figured that, Trella.”

“Then why did you ask?”  Trella inquires.  The druid turns to the others, tapping her headband before tracing little circles around her ear with her index finger.  Quid stomps away, while Kai stifles a chuckle.

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

“I have to say, that death gaze was highly overrated,” Khail opines.

Rhien rolls the body of a bodak over to the caved in corpse of a bullette, clearing the passage for further movement.  “Why do you say that?”

“Quid was telling those stories about Zeran the Wise the other day, and how he was, for a time, trapped as a bodak.”

“Yes.”

“Well, I just thought that someone as potent as Zeran, the Light of Lathander, would have been something less easy to kill.”

“He was cursed, Khail.”

“Yeah, but shouldn’t his curses be…greater, somehow?”

Rhien tilts his head to the side.  “You have an interesting view of things, my friend.”

The paladin smiles.  “Thanks, Rhien.  I don’t often hear that.”

Overhearing, Quid mutters, “Maybe that’s because you’re a loon.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”  She changes the subject. “We should maybe camp here.  After getting past the stench of death, of course.”

“Good plan,” Kai adds, “The idea of feather pillows is extremely appealing right now.”

“So it’s a mansion for tonight?”

Kai half-smiles.  “It’s the only way to travel.”

Unfortunately—for them—a group of troglodytes foils the plan by their flawed attempt at an ambush.  As the group draws to a halt, ten reptilian creatures surround it and let loose with crossbows and spells.  The element of surprise grants them an additional six seconds of life, but they are dispatched with alacrity as soon as they are noticed, with no harm done to the party, which now turns to grumbling about having to go further into the depths to avoid this new stench.

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

“Nothing like a nine-course banquet to make one feel like a civilized person again,” Quid offers.  “Kai, my complements to your chef.”

Kai inclines her head, feeling somewhat better after a night atop an overstuffed mattress. “I’ll pass them along.”

Kyree holds up a hand.  “There’s someone ahead.  He looks like he wants to talk.”

Kai notices the figure as he approaches.  “It appears to be a half-dragon.  Let me speak with him.”

Khail narrows his small gray eyes.  “Very well, but I’ll be watching.”

Kai ignores him and steps forward; the half-dragon assumes that this implies leadership and he addresses her directly in Draconic.  “Greetings, lesser beings.  I am Sshumath Daerindra, a frequent traveler in these parts.  I have great knowledge of the recent history of this region, knowledge I am willing to trade for magic that could complement my already incredible potency.  I recognize that it is unlikely ones such as you possess any, but stranger things have happened.”

Kai replies cautiously, “You might be surprised, Sshumath.”

The red-tinged drow wrinkles his scaly nose.  “The sacred tongue sounds…profane, coming from your fleshy lips, but I will take your knowledge of it as the compliment it was surely intended to be.  Very well, share with me what you have, and I will deign to determine if anything is worth acquiring.”

Kai raises an eyebrow and prepares to get down to bargaining, but she is interrupted by Khail’s insistent hand on her shoulder.

“Tell him to raise arms and defend himself,” the burly paladin instructs.

“Why?” Kai asks incredulously.

“Because he is evil.”

“So?  Everyone down here is evil, and we could use some information.”

“I am tired of making pacts with darkness and justifying it to myself.  This thing is the spawn of a drow and an evil dragon, and reeks of taint to my sight.  He won’t tell us anything without a trade, and he will betray us if we help him.”

“I can handle the conversation, Khail,” Kai snaps, showing some irritation.

“I have no doubt about this, Kai, but I cannot.  I will attack either way; I just wanted to spare you my self-doubt after the fact.”

Kai swears that if she didn’t know Khail better, she’d think he was making a joke. “Fine.  But if we get ambushed later because of this, it’s on your head.”

She turns to the half-dragon.  “Before we go any further, my irrational friend wants me to inform you that he will be attacking you soon, and that you should put up arms to defend yourself.”

The half-drow sneers.  “Your friend is a fool.”

Kai shrugs.  “Perhaps, but he’s serious, so I’d leave if I were you.”

Sshumath makes a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a snarl.  “I, flee?  From you?  I will crush you and choose my price from your corpses!”  With that he begins to cast a spell.

Kai sighs.  “He’s all yours, big guy.”

Khail manifests his sword and charges, but Mr. Flopsy beats him to the punch, tearing into Sshumath with claw and tooth.  Stunned, the sorcerer tires to finish his spells, but Kyree’s first arrow ends his life in an instant as it rips through the half-dragon’s brain.

Khail, about to strike, complains, “Hey, he was mine!”

Rhien groans.  “Was any of that really necessary?”

Kyree shrugs.  Keeping a perfectly straight face, the archer says, “I’m sure Khail had good reasons.  Who am I to question a paladin’s moral judgment?”  Quid snickers and searches the body for treasure.

Rhien grumbles and stomps off ahead, determined to be the first to encounter any subsequent potential friends.  Thus it is he who first comes into contact with a band of mind flayers, by way of four simultaneous mind blasts that threaten to leave the monk a drooling mess.

None of them are effective, however, and Rhien calls for backup while rushing up to engage.  The illithids act first, suggesting to Rhien telepathically that he harm his friends.  Again the monk shrugs off the mental assault, illuminating their hideous faces with his torch as he slays one with a powerful kick.

Now able to see, Kyree targets another, slaying it with three arrows.  The last two join their fellows when the rest of the party descends upon them in a fury, greatly angered by the mind flayers’ presumption.  After looting a few gems, the group kicks the corpses a few times and storms off down the path on which it was earlier traveling.

By the time four more hours have passed the party has calmed down somewhat, and begins to whisper quietly among itself about the best place to camp.  Another hour and a half takes the group to the fork of which the deva earlier spoke, and the party chooses to retreat slightly into the other tunnel so as to move off the main trail.

Just before Kai is about to invoke her mansion, the party is interrupted by the simultaneous detonations of numerous fell magics.  Three overlapping green grids of energy—Quid recognizes them as castings of “Order’s Wrath”—daze and injure those in the group prone to chaos.  Three cloying clouds of inky darkness—Trella knows these as manifestations of “Unholy Blight”—injure and sicken all.  Finally, two fireballs—familiar to everyone—scorch exposed flesh.  Once they pass, Earl and Spot are quite dead, and the rest of the party is sorely injured.  Kai and Kyree, dazed by the affront to their free spirits, are unable for the moment to take action, as the hated sound of infernal speech makes its way to the ears of the group.

_To be continued…_


----------



## htetickrt (May 24, 2005)

Infernal Raiders​
Trella stares at the dead body of the unicorn, Earl.  “You know,” she growls, “the Underdark is really starting to cheese me off.”  Then she notes her burned and torn flesh.  “Anyone going to bring the healing?”

Rhien activates his gloves and lets potent curative magic wash over the crew.  Smiling despite the situation, the monk moves off into the darkness as all wounds heal, searching out evil with his artificial torch.

“Much better,” Trella comments, before conjuring a hemispherical wall of stone to minimize the area from which the party could be attacked.

A cruel laugh arises from the darkness then, followed closely by the detonation of another pair of fireballs within the stone structure.  Expecting this, the party quickly dives to the ground to put out any incipient blazes, minimizing the damage of the blasts.

Kai rolls to her feet with a snarl, magically quickening her motions before launching a storm of acid at a point some thirty feet past the speck of light that signifies Rhien’s position.  The unmistakable hiss of acid on flesh brings a fierce grin to her lips, though it does little to sate her rising bloodlust.

Khail advances to the fore, taking a position in the center of the stone arch.  The paladin enacts a magic circle against evil, and gestures for Kyree to join him.  The elf approaches, but is soon doubled over with the rest of the party, pummeled by waves of law and evil that send Kai to the ground with massive internal bleeding.

Quid, barely conscious and fighting back intense nausea with every breath, silently curses as the potent word she was to speak dies on her lips.  Instead, knowing that it would not take much to end her business career at this point, the Waukeenar invokes both her boots and her most potent healing magic, returning the group to the status it enjoyed only moments before.  Under her prayer, wounds mend and sickness flees, leaving the band once again ready to do battle with what most of them have come to know as utter evil.

Rhien grimaces at the injuries to his friends and advances further.  Another thirty feet brings him into visual range of the baatezu, and he calls back his findings to the party.

Trella screeches, “Get off this plane!” and drops a storm of ice upon their location.  Hailstones the size of a child’s head smash into tough infernal skin, and the grunts of the hamatula as they are hit are music to the druid’s ears.

Unseen by most of the party, the two cornugons raise arms and fly at Rhien in an ordered charge.  The monk is surprised as the two horned devils fly to the edge of his light, lashing out once each with their brutal spiked chains.  Rhien suffers two powerful blows that leave great gaping wounds across his torso, and the monk reels backward, stunned into insensibility.  The two baatezu leaders smile cruelly and prepare to feast upon man-flesh.

Kai grimaces as her untrained ears hear only an indeterminate scuffle, and she acts with the alacrity born of familiar desperation.  Chanted words and a light touch grant Kyree the ability to see into the darkness, and suddenly the cornugons are revealed to him, along with an insensate Rhien.  A storm of arrows accompanies Kai’s own of caustic acid, and both cornugon and hamatula are made to suffer.

Khail notes Rhien’s struggle as well, and deals with it in his more direct fashion.  A charge closes the distance to a cornugon in seconds, and his holy blade cleaves through evil flesh with aplomb.  “Back to Baator with you, foul thing!” the paladin cries.

The baatezu roars his displeasure, and turns to regard a new, more lively foe.  “You will regret that, mortal,” he snarls in perfect common.

“I regret nothing!” Khail exclaims in response.

The six hamatula relocate, some to provide support for their leaders, while others assault those within the stone wall.  The latter group fares poorly.  Mr. Flopsy reacts instantly to the new presence and rakes the first to appear, sending its essence spiraling back to its home plane.  The remaining three join it upon Quid’s utterance of a single holy word.

Unfortunately, Mr. Flopsy does not share Quid’s moral strictures, and finds himself both blinded and deafened, much to his vocal displeasure.  Trella groans.  “Great, now he’ll be inconsolable.”  As if to illustrate, the dire bear roars and slams his paws into the stone wall.

Quid apologizes.  “Sorry, but would you rather we still had the baatezu around?”

“I’d rather they were all a pulpy mess.”

“I’ll take us over there shortly, okay?”

“Then I’m happy.”

Khail, on the other hand, is not, as he is battered with a pair of spiked chains until the paladin is bleeding heavily and stunned into inaction.  Kai, guessing what the thumping sounds off in the darkness are, enhances her own vision.  Thus aided, she and Kyree are able to eliminate the last two hamatula with missiles both magical and mundane.

That leaves the two cornugon, and Quid transports herself and Trella over to them with a word.  Once there, the druid smashes her staff into a baatezu’s scaly chest, while Quid unsuccessfully attempts to banish it back to Baator.  Gulping audibly after her failure, the Waukeenar backs off a step and lays hands upon Rhien, healing his wounds and restoring his senses.

The monk immediately goes on the offensive, stepping in front of Quid to engage the uninjured baatezu.  His first strike is designed not to injure, but to paralyze, and is dead-on.  The cornugon starts in surprise before losing the ability to move, and resorts to making his displeasure known telepathically.

<You have only earned yourself an eternity of torture, mortal.>

Rhien ignores him and lands a pair of solid kicks.

The paralyzed cornugon turns his telepathic attention to his comrade.  <Attack the bald one.>

The monk nimbly dances out of the way of the second’s spiked chain.  <He is too fast.>

<Achsre will hear about your failure.>

The second snarls.  <Both our failures, it would seem.  These are more resilient than we were led to believe.  Perhaps Razorus was not solely at fault.>

Kai cannot hear the exchange, but in the presence of her hated enemy her anger mounts nonetheless.  The sorceress fires two greenish rays of light at the cornugons, but neither has the desired effect.  Kai’s hands clench into fists reflexively, and the sorceress flirts with the idea of charging and attempting to rip them apart with her bare hands.

Kyree is oblivious to this, concentrating only on planting his arrows in the locations in which they can do the most good.  Unfortunately, only one makes its way through the cornugon’s layers of hide and magic to hit home, a rare occurrence which has a deleterious effect on the archer’s morale.

Khail snaps out of his daze then and returns to the fray, ignoring the blood falling liberally from his still-bleeding wounds.  The paladin’s holy blade cleaves infernal flesh once, and again, nearly splitting the baatezu in twain.  Trella, guessing that the cornugon can’t take much more abuse, alters her form into that of a dire bear, manifests her staff, and winds up for a single blow.  With the aid of her enhanced strength the blow connects, and indeed proves sufficient to send the infernal creature to the earth.

Quid advances on the last foe, palm extended to deliver fell magic.  Again the cornugon’s nature denies her action, and it is not harmed by her spell.  Frustrated, the priest rebukes the baatezu, attempting to cause it pain with a stern admonishment, cast in terms of her beliefs.  At last she succeeds, and, though the paralyzed cornugon does not move in response, minor wounds open up across its form.

The priest has little time to savor her small victory, however, as Rhien leaps upon the devil in a blur of fist and foot.  Without its preternatural dexterity, the baatezu cannot escape the monk’s assault, and blow after blow rips into its infernal flesh.  Nearly every strike lands where it was intended, and by the time Rhien returns to his ready position, the cornugon is a mess of torn flesh and broken bones, barely alive.

Unable to act, the baatezu’s life ends as ten magic missiles blast it into oblivion.  Quid’s touch ends Khail’s continued bleeding, and the battle is over.

Afterward, within the safety of Kai’s opulent lodgings, Quid queries the sorceress about the group’s greater-than-normal rage at the presence of the baatezu.

Kai’s hands again close into fists, an apparently automatic response to their mention.  Her nails dig into her palms as she whispers, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Quid presses on, heedlessly.  “It has to do with that pit fiend you mentioned to Morn, right?”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it!” Kai snarls, and slams the door of her bedroom behind her.  Trella storms past the priest to enter her own room, glaring at Quid as she passes.

Quid turns to Rhien, confused.  “I don’t get it.  It’s not like everyone we’ve met so far hasn’t wanted to see us dead.”

Rhien’s voice is gentle, but tinged with sorrow and buried anger.  “Have you ever been hunted, Quid?  For no other reason than the pleasure of the hunter?”

Quid blanches.  “No, of course not.”

The monk’s voice catches.  “It draws away one’s humanity.”  Then he too takes his leave to meditate in the corner, leaving Quid alone with her thoughts.

***********

Time has a way of—if not healing all wounds—dampening ardor, and by the next evening passion has been replaced by the tense wariness that characterizes all successful travel through the Underdark.  Despite an even greater degree of alertness, however, the only beings encountered during the previous day were a group of kobolds who ran screaming in fear from Khail after he manifested his holy blade.  This uninterrupted travel carried the party to the edge of the lake, and there they halted, to prepare for what lies there, and beyond.


----------



## hobz (May 28, 2005)

*where's the foreshadowing?*

probably i'm just dense, but where's the foreshadowing and hints of the future you promised?


----------



## mrs htetickrt (May 28, 2005)

It's this part (and it's so bad--oh, it's so very very not at all good):




			
				htetickrt said:
			
		

> The second snarls. <Both our failures, it would seem. These are more resilient than we were led to believe. Perhaps Razorus was not solely at fault.>




Apparently this seemingly random encounter was nonrandom in the extreme.  And problems that we thought we had put to bed are actually sitting up with a flashlight under the sheets, humming a sinister tune.  Quid doesn't know about it yet because nobody wanted to talk about it.  But is has to do with the reason why the rest of the party is batty when it comes to baatezu.



			
				htetickrt said:
			
		

> Quid presses on, heedlessly.  “It has to do with that pit fiend you mentioned to Morn, right?”




It's a bad thing when all the primary formative events of your life have been negative ones.  It's another level of badness entirely when the ultimate cause was a single unexpectedly successful casting of Tasha's Hideous Uncontrollable Laughter.  Poor PCs.  Poor, poor PCs.  RBDM!

mrs htetickrt
(aka kai)


----------



## htetickrt (Jun 3, 2005)

Rhien’s Vow​
“A little to the left,” Kai instructs the unseen servant hovering over her back.  “Yes, there.  Now push.  Ahhh.”

Trella smirks.  “Enjoying yourself, Kai?”

Kai’s smile is broad and genuine.  “Immensely, now that we’re no longer walking.”

“What’s wrong with walking?  Apart from its taking place here, of course.”

“Trella, if we were meant to walk for miles, there wouldn’t be wagons.”

The druid rolls her eyes and sends her dire bear to fetch Kyree from a bedroom.  “And don’t use your mouth this time.”

Kyree’s “Eep!” is audible from the dining area, and he arrives in all haste.

Sensing a team meeting approaching, Quid flops onto an overstuffed pillow and orders up a hot chocolate.  “So, what’s the plan?  Do we get ferried?  Fly?  Befriend everyone? Risk a teleport?  How are we on communication ability?  Can anyone speak to giants?”

Rhien, looking frustrated and perhaps even a bit angry, snaps back, “As I said, teleportation is very risky. I wouldn’t advise it.”

Trella holds up her hands.  “Hey, no need to get snippy.  None of us like being here.”  Despite her calming words, the stress begins to get to her as well, and she grows a bit manic.  “Hey, how’s this: We levitate inside an obscuring mist over the water or something equally clever, though I suspect we're going to have to trash the kraken.  I could also summon water elementals to aid us should the kraken become a pain.  Oh, and I want those kuo-toa to worship me when we're through with 'em.  And I’m anxious to slay a shadow dragon, too.  And I think I need a nap.”

Khail chuckles.  “We noticed that.” While everyone stares at him, Rhien retreats to a corner of the large dining room and kneels, staring at his hands in a mixture of disgust and despair.  He remains that way, features frozen into a rictus of shame, until Kai goes over wearily to check on him.

“Are you okay?” the beautiful sorceress inquires, a little more harshly than she had intended, perhaps due to the recent battle.

Rhien whispers in response, “I can’t…do this.  Not anymore.”

Seeing her friend in pain, Kai drops to one knee, concern showing in the furrow of her brow.  “Do what, Rhien?” she asks gently.

The monk does not answer directly, instead asking a question of his own.  “Did you…see me?  During the battle’s end?”

Kai nods.  “You did well.  What of it?”

Rhien cringes, backing away from her words.  “I was little more than a caged beast, lashing out in anger at my captives.  That is not ‘well.’”

“They were purest evil, Rhien.  Surely you of all people know this.”  Pushing the reticent monk a bit, she adds, “Isn’t that why you made your choice?”

Kai expects to have touched a nerve, but Rhien does not react as such.  Instead he shakes his head negatively and replies, “I chose what I did so that I might play a more direct role in aiding others, putting an end to the source of the suffering instead of ‘merely’ ameliorating instances of it.”  The stress on the word ‘merely’ is unmistakable, and distinctly self-mocking.  “Though I continue to believe this is worthwhile, my motivation for doing so was unworthy.  Rage, not compassion drove me to my martial devotion, just as rage drove my actions in the battle.  I was not thinking of aiding others as I rained blow after blow upon my helpless foe.  I was not thinking of anything, in fact, allowing my hatred of their kind to power my assault.”

Kai interjects, “I think you are being too hard on yourself, Rhien.”

Rhien does not let her continue, snapping, “Am I?”  Quickly recovering, his frown deepens.  “I’m sorry.  It’s just…look at me, Kai.  Look at what I am wielding, what I’m clad in.  I save gold plundered from the bodies of the dead to outfit myself with the most potent items I can buy.  I justified this as necessary to accomplish my goals.  But in doing so, I believe I’ve lost myself.”

The monk pauses for a while, collecting his thoughts.  Other party members, already trying surreptitiously to listen, give up their stealth and come closer.  Rhien’s forces a half-smile, and he says gently, “I do not judge others who act the way I have, as long as they do so with good intent.  But I can no longer follow that path myself.”

Slowly, methodically, Rhien strips off every item of value on his person, leaving him clad only in his simple robes and sandals.  “These I give to you, to all of you, for use in your—our—continued struggles.  I will place no claim upon future goods as well, though I ask that my share of all that you find no use for be distributed to the nearest house of Ilmater or, failing that, the nearest bastion of good.  I will take care of this if I am still able.”

Rising to his feet, Rhien moves swiftly to the door of the mansion.  When Kai moves to stop him, he lays a gentle hand on her shoulder.  “Please Kai, I must leave for now.  Your conjured dwelling is beautiful, but its opulence contrasts poorly with my recent thoughts.  I need to be alone.”

“It is dangerous outside.”

Rhien nods.  “I will place my trust in Ilmater; I can do no more.”

Quid goggles at him, then at the pile of his possessions, then at the monk again.  After a moment she puts her head down and mutters something about altruism and economic theory.

Before Rhien leaves, Trella catches his arm and says, "Stay frosty.  Don't do something stupid like getting yourself killed." With a knowing wink she adds, "Resurrections are expensive."  She tries to sound warm and understanding and lets him go.  Rhien gives her a half-smile, but puts up his hand before Kai can add her own words.  “Please,” he says, simply, and steps outside into the darkness.  He does not return that night.

Kyree sidles over to the portal out and tries to listen for approaching enemies.  Kai coughs, and gently points out that no outside conditions can penetrate into the mansion.  The archer looks sheepish and goes to stare lustfully at Rhien’s old belt of strength.

Quid, unable to understand Rhien’s motives, has already put the monk out of her mind.  Employing a little-used skill, the Waukeenar has fashioned miniatures of the party, the giants, the kraken, and several kuo-toa out of clay, and arrayed them atop a table big enough to serve twelve.  Equal parts amused and attempting not to think about the monk outside, the rest of the party gathers around to join in the planning.  Trella requests a case of ‘Dew;’ an unseen servant provides it.

Kai offers, “I think we should try talking to the giants and seeing if they can’t ferry us across the lake safely.  Otherwise, flying seems our best option.”

Quid’s face falls.  “Don’t you want to use my miniatures?”

“To pantomime talking?”

“No, to plan out what happens if we anger them somehow and they attack us.  And then the kraken joins in.  And the kuo-toa.”

Trella interjects, “They’ll be too busy worshipping me.”

“Ah.” Khail taps his cheek thoughtfully.

“Ah what?” Quid queries.

Khail is nonplussed.  “I don’t honestly know.  It just seemed the thing to say.”

Kyree asks the unspoken question softly, “Do you think Rhien will be okay?”

Quid, realizing that no planning is going to get done now, huffs and puts her miniatures into the bag of holding for later use.

Kai barely notes the action, her face tight with worry.  “I don’t know.  If the night is anything like the day was, he should be fine.  Even wearing nothing.”

Kyree toys with the fletching on an arrow he has pulled from a quiver.  “What if it is like yesterday instead? We could help him.  Quietly.  I only need a few hours of rest, and I doubt he could see me if I didn’t want him to.”

Khail replies sternly, “No.”

“But—”

“No.  We will not search for Rhien.  It was his choice to leave, and we must respect that.  Otherwise we dishonor both him and his beliefs.”

Kai grows agitated.  “You picked an odd time to start having opinions, Khail.”

“Rhien has entrusted himself to Ilmater.  If he is judged worthy, he will be fine.”

“_Judged_?” Kai snarls, rising to her feet.  “What right has anyone to judge _us_?  Perhaps you forgot what happened on our return to Toril, but I did not.”

Khail shrugs, extending his arms, palms upward.  “We are but flawed vessels.  We must have faith.”

“Zealot,” Kai spits, and makes for her bedroom, robes swirling around her as she turns.

Trella lays a hand on Khail’s forearm as the paladin starts a response.  “Let it go.”

“Perhaps that would be wise.”

“I’m all about wisdom.  And cheese fries.”

Quid gapes incredulously.  “You’re all completely unbalanced, aren’t you?”

Kyree answers, “Perhaps, but I can spot like nobody’s business.”

Quid, having started to stand, collapses back into her chair in defeat.  “This’ll be my doom as well, won’t it?  Half-crazy and not for profit.  Waukeen save me.”

Trella grins ferally.  “There are worse things.”

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

“Moment of truth.  Are you ready?” Trella attempts to sounds comforting.

“As I’ll ever be.  It’s not like we haven’t seen death before.”  Kai tries to sound like she means it, but fails despite her natural persuasiveness.

“Yeah, but with Eduardo, it was _fun_.”

Kyree chuckles at the druid’s joke.  “I really hated him.”  The ranger looks at his fellows.  “Okay, I’m going,” he says, and steps through.

It doesn’t take his sharp eyes to pinpoint the location of the human kneeling a half-dozen feet from the former mansion’s entrance, particularly when said human is surrounded by a nimbus of golden light out to a five-foot radius.  Hearing Khail step through the portal, the monk inquires pleasantly, “Sleep well?”

Kai goggles, having temporarily lost the power of speech.  The monk smiles beatifically.  “I am sorry; I’m sure you have questions.  Much of what I experienced must remain between Ilmater and myself, but, simply put, I have made many vows this night, and Ilmater has accepted them.  While some are personal, others directly affect you and my role in this party.  As friends, you deserve to have a full accounting of this, and, after I provide it, I will understand if you no longer desire my company on your travels.”

Quid rolls her eyes.  “This group just gets weirder and weirder.”  She is shushed by Trella.

Rhien continues, “This night I made three vows to Ilmater, which shall not be broken for any reason.  The first is a vow of poverty.  I may not possess any material items of value, beyond what I am wearing now.”  Quid gasps and nearly faints; Khail steadies her.

Rhien’s smile broadens.  “Again I am sorry; I should have realized how you would take that, Quid.”  The priestess croaks, “Go on.  This can’t get any worse.”

“That depends on your point of view, I would imagine.  The second and third vows are of non-violence and peace.  These are strict, and imply that I may not harm, either deliberately or due to my own carelessness, another living being in any permanent fashion. Further, while I may still disable those seeking to do harm, I cannot permit you to dispatch entities whose aggression I have for the time being quelled.  Should you try, I must attempt to stop you and, whether or not I succeed at this attempt, I must take my leave of you.  Finally, in the special case of humanoids, I must ask that you not assault the helpless even if I had no part in making them so, at least in my presence.  I would appreciate your taking a vow not to do so while away from me as well, but I cannot force this on you.”

Quid briefly turns her blue eyes heavenward and says quietly to Waukeen, “Uptight gods with their silly vows and strictures. How can they enjoy life if they are always imposing all of these tiresome rules?”

Thus steadied, she is able to reply to Rhien, "Very well. I suppose I personally am more or less against the unnecessary taking of life as well.  Inefficient if you ask me.  Violent deprivation of property rights as well as productive capacity.  They could be better used by being engaged in valuable economic activity.  And I suppose it is the decent thing to do."

"Except for plants that is," a strange look appears on Quid's face as she fingers her machete, "yup, violent plants need to all die."

Quid blinks for a second.  "But yeah, otherwise, I'm fine with taking the vow if it will make you happy."

Rhien indeed does look happy, and administers the vow to Quid.

To Kyree, the vows taken seem almost like a betrayal.  “I am sorry,” he nearly whispers, “but given my current understanding of the constraints Rhien's vow would impose upon us, I feel that accepting Rhien's offer to leave is the better of two very bad alternatives.”  The ranger’s eyes do not meet the monk’s, and his use of the third person is not lost on the assembled.

Kai frowns.  “Rhien, would you agree not to attack certain enemies?  If you could stand by and not incapacitate any of them, understanding that we do intend to kill baatezu if we encounter them, or especially drow on this quest, then all the rest of us would need to do is to avoid rendering any of them helpless ourselves, right?”

Kyree interrupts:  “Which means no using any spells or magical effects that would or even could stun, daze, or incapacitate them, and maybe even those that would just blind them, no using spells like ‘Web,’ no using tanglefoot bags, and so on.  I'm not willing to accept such a severe constraint on our tactical options.”

Trella regards Rhien with a "What the?" look as people explore the ramifications of his new vows.  She manages only an, "Uh, good for, uh, you," when pressed for an opinion.  In the meantime, she scratches Mr. Flopsy behind his right ear until his right leg starts kicking. For his part, the dire bear is remarkably calm in the monk’s presence.

Kai looks as if she is about to respond to Kyree, then shrugs and looks away.

Khail looks disapprovingly at the archer.  “I must say, I am disappointed.  We should be celebrating, for Rhien’s faith has been renewed!”

Kyree shoots back, “It’s a little more complicated than that, don’t you think?”

“Well, we’ll have to be careful with this zone of calm he seems to be projecting, as I don’t have the slightest urge to smite evil at the moment, which could be a problem given my vocation, but on the whole I’m just happy to see a friend display evidence of Ilmater’s grace.”

Rhien listens to the discussion impassively, offering a response only when there is a lull in the conversation.  “Again, I am sorry that my vows bring some of you unhappiness.  Please know that was never my intent.  I have no objection, Kai, to my trying not to engage baatezu or drow directly.  I had already intended to limit much of my response to foes to waylaying them so that you might be freer to act yourselves; I can simply choose not to paralyze or stun these enemies if you desire.

"Kyree, your worries are certainly valid; however, please remember that you are indeed free to use any of those tactics yourself, and that that aspect of the vow pertains only to humanoids.  Further, I think you are reading too much into the word 'helpless.'  I am referring to enemies who cannot help themselves, so that tying them up would be as easy as killing them.  Many of the cases you offered do not fit this.

"Finally, I am permitted to offer humanoids a vow of their own in the event of capture.  If they take a vow not to interfere with us and then break it, you are free to act as you will.

"Of course, if this or my offer not to attack certain foes does not sway you, I will leave.  I would like to be a help, not a hindrance."

Quid walks up to Rhien and gently puts a hand on his shoulder. "While I think your ideas are silly, I for one still think the benefits of your contributions far outweigh any costs your eccentricities impose. I would happily have you by my side."

Rhien smiles. “Thank you, Quid.”

Kyree looks a bit uncomfortable before offering, "Well…why don't we try it for a while and see how it works out?"

Trella claps Kyree and Rhien on their shoulders in a show of team solidarity.  "I agree.  Rhien, are you game to try?  I think Quid is right that your help to us invaluable, but I don't want any hard feelings if, uh, things don't work out.  Does that make sense?  I mean, if I'd come in here and announced that from this day forward I would only fight angry shambling mounds with bad flatulence I wouldn't hold any grudges if that didn't jibe with the party, and I know you won't either so let's move along and do what needs to be done."

Kai smiles, relieved to have her friend back.  “I concur.  Let’s put this behind us.”

Rhien nods.  “Of course,” he says simply.  The smile does not leave his face as he moves ahead of the group, keeping his zone of calm away from his companions.

The remaining mile and a half to the Lake of Shadows is uneventful, at least until Kyree discerns the sounds of laughter and growling, both deep and guttural, coming from directly above the group.  Everyone is instantly on his or her guard, though this doesn’t make the rock that smashes against a wall three feet from Khail’s head any less surprising.

Rhien extends his nimbus of light and holds out his arms in a gesture of peace.  Quid, figuring that giants be here, gifts herself with magic to understand their language.  She is just in time to hear a voice rumble, “I missed on purpose.  What are you doing here?”


----------

