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Brother Ezra
Learned Scribe
USA
268 Posts |
 Posted - 11 Jul 2004 : 00:30:15
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quote:
Originally posted by Vexxan
A very good read and yes I read it all. 
I'm looking forward to hearing more about this band of adventurers.
I have two questions, Ezra:
How exactly did Kaelin suffer the weakening effects of Eralion's touch? It was not mentioned until they were back in Fairhill. Did Eralion reach out for Kaelin as he was hauled out of the chamber?
Have these characters made any level progression yet? If so, what level are they now?
I'm glad to hear that you've enjoyed the journals so far, Vexxan. It has turned out to be a very enjoyable campaign.
I re-read the log, and I agree that the details about how Kaelin was affected by Eralion's touch were not well documented. I'll have to go back into that entry and edit a bit for clarity. Thanks for the comment!
The characters have indeed leveled, once after the huge battle at Eralion's keep, and then again just recently after the battle with the winter/dire wolves and the orc patrol. They are all currently third level, with the exception of Caeg, who remains at second (he joined the party well into the campaign).
We just played a 6 hour session this afternoon, and it was a doozy. Once again, my players took an unexpected approach to liberating Berthold's father from the goblin and orc infested village of Hinterford. I did a lot of ad-libbing, but it turned out to be one of our most intense and edge-of-your-seat games. The journal summary should be posted soon. |
"Suffering is the touchstone of all spiritual growth."
-St. Sollars the Twice-Martyred |
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Brother Ezra
Learned Scribe
USA
268 Posts |
Posted - 28 Jul 2004 : 20:17:19
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Latest chapter in the Shards of Bloodstone campaign, written by Jaime McLeod (Fallon uth Pendemyr)
The group located a suitable location to establish a new camp, and spent some time recuperating after the encounter with the orcs. Jonrek prayed to recover his spells and brought Kaelin back to consciousness before tending to the other injured party members. The group then continued their ride toward Hinterford, hindered only by a fell and chilling thunderstorm that dampened even the spirits of the druid, barbarian and two rangers, while making the more urban party members thoroughly miserable.
As they neared the town, still sodden from their encounter with the rain, the silhouette of a tower appeared on the horizon. Berthold informed his companions that the tower had been an outpost for the town guard before Zhenghi’s army took control. Hiro and Fallon volunteered to go and scout the tower to make certain none of the enemy force was housed there. As they scanned the area, Fallon discovered some fresh giant-sized footprints in the earth. Carefully approaching the structure, the pair peered inside an unobstructed doorway—the door appeared to have been ripped violently from the hinges—but saw nothing inside. They then began to circle the perimeter of the tower, but didn’t get far before they heard a scraping noise behind them. Hiro took a few steps away from the wall and was dismayed to see a giant two-headed humanoid leering brutishly at him.
“Hello, my two-headed friend,” offered the half-orc cheerfully. His good-natured greeting was lost on the ettin, however. It began to charge toward Hiro, who wasted no time in running away from the beast. As it streaked past, Fallon fired an arrow at the lunging giant, narrowly missing.
Hearing Hiro’s shouted salutation from their hidden position, the rest of the group rode in on horseback toward the monster, planning to take the beast down from a distance, using ranged weapons. Their plan was foiled, however, when the ettin lost interest in Hiro and turned his attentions to his new attackers—in particular Berthold. Seeing his friends in trouble, Hiro immediately reversed his course and moved in to flank the monster opposite Berthold. Fallon, likewise moved in, switching to her sword, while Ashe and Jonrek each cast a spell. Jonrek animated a spirit weapon to attack the beast independently of its owner, while Ashe softened the earth at the ettin’s feet, stealing some of the giant’s mobility. Though the ettin was formidable, the group managed to take it down without suffering much damage themselves, thanks in no small part to a pair of arrows planted with deadly accuracy by Caeg into one of the beast’s ugly heads.
After defeating the ettin, the party searched the tower and, finding it clear, decided to use it as a base of operations for their rescue mission. Once the group had rested briefly, they began to formulate a plan for infiltrating the goblin-infested ruin that had once been Berthold’s hometown. Kaelin, Ashe and Hiro volunteered to undertake a daring plan; Hiro would pose as a member of the occupying force, and Kaelin and Ashe would become his “prisoners,” allowing all three of them to infiltrate the town and gather information needed to free Berthold’s parents.
Once the group agreed on the plan, Ashe and Kaelin were stripped of their armor and weapons—except for a pair of daggers and Kaelin’s thieves’ tools, which the rogue expertly concealed beneath the folds of their clothing—covered in filth and ettin blood, bound with ropes about their hands and necks and led away by their “captor” toward Hinterford. The trio walked only a short distance before they came upon a work party of goblins overseeing human slaves planting crops to feed their starving masters.
Hiro greeted the goblins in orcish and was scolded by one of the beasts for failing to speak common. He explained to the goblins, in common, that he was a scout from another town in the “star,” as the cluster of five towns that included Hinterford was informally called, and had captured two “spies” skulking around the area, along with a pair of fighters. Hiro told them he had killed one of the companions and a fourth had escaped. The goblins seemed initially skeptical of Hiro’s story, asking him numerous questions about where he had come from and why he was bringing his prisoners to Hinterford instead of to his own commander, but the half-orc’s simple, unscripted replies seemed to appease them.
They roughly searched the two prisoners, finding Ashe’s dagger, but not Kaelin’s hidden cache, and scolded Hiro for his negligence. The discovery prompted the half-orc to level a vicious backhand across the druid’s face in order to prove his loyalty to his new “comrades.” The goblins then took him to see their captain, Raun, a thoroughly spiteful and unpleasant ogre. Raun questioned Hiro for some time, seeming even more suspicious than the goblins had been, and informed him that he would have to be taken before Hoobis, the head commander over the forces in Hinterford. Hoobis would ultimately decide whether to take Hiro in as a soldier, or as a prisoner.
Nonplussed, Hiro returned to the town with Raun’s division, striking up a conversation with one of the few orcish members of the group about the inferiority and arrogance of the smaller, weaker goblins. Kaelin and Ashe were rounded up with the other prisoners, who, they noticed, comprised entirely of the very old and the very young. The companions shuddered at the implications, remembering vividly the contents of the letter from Berthold’s father and wondering what they’d gotten themselves into. Their worries only multiplied when a ravenous looking goblin began squeezing greedily at their meatier limbs. Kaelin attempted to dissuade the little beast’s attentions by exaggeratedly coughing up some of the phlegm that had been rattling around in his chest since the group had gotten caught in the chilly downpour several days before.
The remaining party members tracked the group from a safe distance, ready to sweep in and defend their friends at the slightest hint of trouble. They were relieved when it appeared that their ruse was actually working. Convinced their companions were safe, at least for the time being, the group took refuge in an abandoned farmhouse along the road to Hinterford, planning to wait out the night there and rescue Ashe and Kaelin—who would hopefully have learned the status and location of Berthold’s parents—from their work site in the morning.
When the three masquerading party members reached Hinterford, Kaelin and Ashe were herded into a warehouse with the other prisoners, while Hiro was taken before Hoobis. The commander turned out to be the winged goblin Berthold’s father had mentioned in his letter. Hoobis questioned Hiro briefly about his loyalties and intentions, focusing primarily on his mixed ancestry and whether or not the newcomer would be comfortable eating human flesh. Hiro informed the commander that he viewed his human blood as a weakness he had fought hard to overcome and said he would do whatever was necessary to survive. Seeming satisfied by the new recruit’s answers, Hoobis informed Hiro that he would be housed with Raun so that that the captain could keep an eye on the half-orc until a suitable assignment could be found for him.
Relieved that he had been accepted, Hiro accompanied Raun to the pub for dinner, where he ate a watery stew containing small chunks of an unidentified meaty substance, all the while praying he was not eating his friend’s parents. As he slurped down the disagreeable “meal,” the barbarian scanned the faces of the human slaves, hoping to recognize a family resemblance to Berthold in any of them. Frustrated that all of the residents of Hinterford looked alike to him, Hiro gave up, completely oblivious to the fact that his own server was Berthold’s mother.
While Hiro was busy infiltrating the other side, Kaelin and Ashe got down to the business of finding Berthold’s parents and formulating a plan to get them all out. As they made conversation with their fellow prisoners, the pair learned that there was a second warehouse in town where more prisoners were kept. They also discovered that the Aelfsons were, by some cruel trick of fate, being housed in the other building for the night.
Meanwhile, back at the abandoned farmhouse, the other four companions paced nervously, sleeping only in snatches, well aware that they were bedding down deep within enemy territory. Their vigilance proved all the wiser when, a few hours into their hiding, they heard voices coming toward the house. Scrambling into the shadowy corners, the foursome held their breath and braced themselves for a possible attack. They didn’t have to wait long before the door burst open and they were spotted by the leader of a patrol of goblins. Realizing they had been seen and would be unable draw their opponents further into the house, the companions attacked, but were hindered by the close quarters of the house’s entryway. Jonrek easily took down the first goblin with his spear, but the second one was too quick for Fallon, who had to charge at the beast from her position near the back of the small dwelling. The battle in the doorway forced Berthold and Caeg to leap out of the house’s windows in pursuit of the other two goblins, who were already running back to Hinterford. One of them sounded a battle horn into the night as it fled, causing the party members to curse their wretched luck. Though a second goblin was slain near the entrance of the house, the other two had escaped clean, and would likely return with reinforcements. The companions quickly gathered up their packs and retreated back to the tower, disguising their tracks by entering the streambed and following it to their destination.
The sound of the goblin’s horn roused Hoobis’ minions. A much larger patrol of goblins and orcs was organized and sent out to find the fools who dared to attempt to penetrate the host’s defenses. Hiro’s evening at the pub was cut short when Raun informed him he was going to have a chance to prove his fighting prowess sooner than the ogre captain had hoped.
Coincidentally, the alarm sent through the town gave Ashe and Kaelin just the diversion they needed to initiate their escape attempt. Their guards repositioned themselves outside of the building to better fend off any external attackers, granting the prisoners a small degree of extra latitude. In the confusion, Kaelin grabbed for one of the torches lining the walls, and instructed Ashe to do the same. The two adventurers then set to work attempting to ignite some of the structure’s support beams. The other prisoners quickly wrestled the newcomers to the ground and chastised them for their suicidal antics.
Kaelin explained to the irate prisoners that he and Ashe were attempting to free them, but the frightened captives were less than optimistic. The town blacksmith, Artur, stepped forward as the seeming leader of the group and told Kaelin the townspeople would not agree to any rash actions that would endanger their lives. He agreed to let them two agitators rise if they promised not to try to burn the building down again. Kaelin agreed and the villagers holding him and Ashe down released them from their grapple holds, though the entire group continued to eye them suspiciously. Kaelin thought he sensed a degree of bravado in Artur, however, and believed he could win the blacksmith over with some smooth talking. If the rogue could only convince the surly man to undertake an escape attempt, he realized, the others would most likely follow course.
Kaelin, summoning the most inspiring speech he could conceive, told the prisoners that, though an escape attempt could mean death for some of them, staying imprisoned would invariably mean death for each and every one of them in due time. He told them that it would be better to die attempting to take back their lives from the scum that had enslaved them than to sit around docilely waiting to be killed. Kaelin’s words washed over the group, seeming to fill them with hope and replacing their desperate expressions with the fiercely grim visages of warriors. The transformation was so complete that it even surprised Kaelin, who scarcely expected his reckless plan to work at all. A moment later, a wave of prisoners spilled out of the warehouse doors, trampling their goblin captors underfoot. Many headed for Artur’s smithy to arm themselves with whatever weapons and farming implements they could get their hands on. Others followed Kaelin and Ashe to free the remaining prisoners on the opposite end of town.
Chaos ensued as the freed townspeople swarmed through the streets of Hinterford, right into the middle of a patrol of goblins and orcs. Ashe attempted to scatter the patrol by summoning a dire bat right in the middle of the group. Though the creature did inspire terror in the confused captors, it did little to stop the slaughter the angry beasts wrought on the unarmed peasants. As they wove their way through the gauntlet of enemy troops toward their destination, Kaelin and Ashe also took a great deal of physical punishment. One particularly powerful blow from a passing orc left Kaelin staggered and nearly helpless, but a spell from Ashe temporarily restored a small measure of his strength.
Several hellish moments later, a much smaller group of escapees arrived at the other warehouse, overpowered the handful of goblin guards and burst into the structure. Kaelin immediately called out to the Aelfsons and was awash in momentary relief when a worn looking gentleman answered the call. Kaelin explained that he was a friend of Berthold’s and had come to free them. The rogue’s relief was cut short, however, when the man protested that his wife was not with him, but serving as a waitress at the pub. Kaelin, realizing that one more hit from a goblin would spell death for him, and that Ashe was in only slightly better condition, promised Berthold’s father that, if he followed them now, they would return for her later. He and Ashe each grabbed an arm and coaxed the senior Aelfson forward before instructing the rest of the prisoners to flee into the countryside.
Ashe, Kaelin and Berthold’s father, by some improbable intervention of Tymora (and a well-timed entangle spell from Ashe which slowed their pursuers), managed to escape Hinterford unhindered and fled for cover alongside a diminishing surge of survivors. As the pack filthy, half-starved villagers ran toward a faraway hillside, the effects of Ashe’s spell wore off, leaving Kaelin once again disabled and struggling to remain on his feet. The ragged band eventually reached the hillside, which offered them a small measure of cover, but their rest was short-lived.
The squadron of scouts sent out to intercept the remaining party members lost the trail and eventually headed back to town, where they learned of the evening’s other events. New patrols were sent out to round up any stragglers that had managed to successfully escape the town’s perimeter. As one posse of pursuing goblins came nearer to their hiding place, Ashe instructed the townspeople to break up into smaller groups and scatter. She gave them directions to the tower, promising that, if they could only reach the structure, they would be safe.
Separated from the other survivors, Kaelin, Ashe and Berthold’s father forced themselves to press on toward the tower, despite the dying screams of their fellow fugitives, which periodically pierced the night air. They reached the tower, following the same route their friends had taken earlier that evening, just before dawn. Berthold shared a hearty embrace with his father while Jonrek healed his companions of their life-threatening wounds. After their hasty reunions, the companions began bracing themselves for an attack.
Some time later, three villagers, terrified and badly winded, approached the tower, practically collapsing in the building’s doorway. The adventurers provided what scarce comfort they could, but also handed each of the refugees a spear from the outpost’s armory and told them to prepare for the worst. The six companions and their four wards watched tentatively as the sun rose over a new, and bittersweet, day. They wondered how Hiro was faring alone behind enemy lines, whether they would be able to save Berthold’s mother or whether they, themselves, would even live to see another dawn.
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"Suffering is the touchstone of all spiritual growth."
-St. Sollars the Twice-Martyred |
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Brother Ezra
Learned Scribe
USA
268 Posts |
Posted - 12 Aug 2004 : 00:58:47
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The final chapter of the Star of Infelice adventure, written by Jaime McLeod (Fallon uth Pendemyr).
Or is it the final chapter...? More to be revealed in the next post.
While his friends worried about his welfare, Hiro was busy trying to find a way to get away from the watchful eye of his new commander and return to the party. In the confusion surrounding the search for escapees, Hiro’s task became easy. The deceptively intelligent half-orc managed to bluff his way into a two-man patrol, leaving only one tiny goblin standing between him and freedom.
As Hiro and his escort scouted the open plains surrounding Hinterford, the barbarian lifted a hand to silence the goblin, pretending he had heard a noise.
“Shh,” whispered Hiro, “Do you hear that sound?”
“What sound?”
Hiro flashed a toothy grin as he raised his axe and brought it to bear upon the little goblin’s skull.
“The sound of your death.”
With the goblin out of the way, Hiro was able to flee unseen. Once he’d given Hoobis’ minions the slip, he made his way back to the tower, hoping his two friends had made it back alive. The barbarian’s superior speed reunited him with the party shortly after the three villagers’ arrival, and a chorus of cheers greeted him upon his return. The companions took much pleasure in the tale of their friend’s escape, but cut short their celebration to inform him that their task was not completed.
Berthold and his father were adamant that they would not leave without rescuing the fighter’s mother, even if it meant charging in alone. Hiro slumped in exasperation, knowing that any course toward Hinterford would lead to almost certain death for any party member that ventured there, but unwilling to abandon Berthold during his time of desperation. The half-orc reluctantly offered to go back to town and tell Raun he had gotten separated from his patrol, but expressed doubts that he would be trusted following his disappearance. Berthold rejected the idea, to Hiro’s immense relief, stating that the responsibility for rescuing his mother had to rest on his own shoulders.
After much discussion, the companions agreed to allow Ashe, Kaelin, Hiro and the four villagers some well-needed rest until dawn. Come morning, Jonrek and Ashe would pray for their spells and the entire group would ride toward town and watch the enemy for a while before deciding what to do. Satisfied to have a plan in place, those needing rest turned in for the night. Hiro slept outside under the stars, while the others made themselves comfortable in an upstairs room of the tower. Those who chose not to sleep all remained on watch, still fearing an appearance by Hoobis’ scouts.
About two hours into his watch, Caeg, who was posted at the window on the top floor of the tower, heard a noise that sounded like something landing on the roof. Quietly, the ranger crept downstairs to inform Berthold and Jonrek, who were posted at the door, of his suspicions, then went to wake his sleeping companions. Berthold hailed Fallon, who had been walking the perimeter of the structure, as she neared the door and informed her of Caeg’s report. She and Bertold both readied their ranged weapons while Jonrek went to wake Hiro where he slept several feet away. Irritated at having his sleep interrupted, the barbarian stalked groggily away from the tower until he could see the roof. Seeing nothing, Hiro decided to draw out the likely intruder.
“Hoobis!” he bellowed at the top of his ample lungs, “Hoobis, come down. I found them!”
The two half-elves and the fighter, still watching from the door, cringed as they heard Hiro’s cry echo through the night air. No one was anxious to fight the unusual winged goblin, especially after hearing of his vicious beheading of a goblin in front of Hiro earlier that night. Moments passed, however, and only silence greeted the half-orc’s call. Certain their night visitor had, in fact, been Hoobis, and that their hiding place would soon be besieged by the goblin commander’s army, the party readied their horses to ride out. Knowing that leaving Berthold’s mother behind was not an option, and that stealth was no longer on their side, the group concocted a desperate and utterly reckless plan to ride into town, abduct the fighter’s mother from the inn—keeping their enemies at bay with several of Ashe’s spells—and ride out, trampling any who got in their way and avoiding the rest. Though none were optimistic about their prospects for survival, all agreed it was their only possible chance.
As it became clear to the three refugees that the group was moving closer toward, and not further away from, the very town they had just escaped, they began to panic. Berthold’s father, Wulfgang, refused to lead his neighbors into the heart of danger and suggested taking the frightened villagers to a hiding place in the former ice mines north of Hinterford. The party, uncertain that in their flight from town they would be able to return for the escapees, rejected the idea. Instead, they decided to send the four townspeople south, under Kaelin’s protection. The others promised the still badly wounded rogue that, if any of them survived their ill-advised raid on Hinterford, the group would reunite in Merkurn.
The six remaining adventurers made for Hinterford, steeling themselves against their fear, and waited just north of town for the dawn. As the first rays of sunlight peered over the horizon, Ashe and Jonrek began their prayers. No sooner had the cleric and druid lifted their heads than they were bidden to mount up. The companions charged full-speed toward their destination, not even slowing as they entered a veil of obscuring mist rising up from the river at the town’s northern edge. As the riders neared the narrow bridge spanning the waterway, a volley of arrows tore into their ranks, striking both Berthold and Ashe at the head of the group. As they galloped closer, the companions saw a skirmish line of a dozen goblins and orcs blocking the pass. Ashe and Berthold were undaunted, however, and spurred their horses onward, determined to trample the opposition under a barrage of hoof-beats and continue onward.
Berthold’s line did just that. The hooves of the fighter’s mount effortlessly crushed the tiny goblin blocking his portion of the bridge, allowing Fallon, behind him, to follow unimpeded. Ashe’s line was sent into chaos, however, when the hulking orc blocking her path dug in his heels and managed to topple the druid’s mount in an astounding feat of strength. Luckily, the quick-witted druid was able to leap from her horse, landing on her feet unharmed. Caeg, directly behind her, found himself unable to stop his mount in time to avoid Ashe’s fallen steed. The ranger attempted, and failed, to execute a jump, falling out of the saddle, but also landing on his feet, as his horse foundered next to Ashe’s. Jonrek, behind them, attempted to veer his mount around the tangle of horses before him, but was also unsuccessful. The cleric, like his two companions before him, managed to leap from the saddle unharmed as his horse joined the ever-growing pileup.
Noting the confusion to his left, Hiro, who rode behind Fallon, took a brief detour as he started across the bridge, trampling the orc that had toppled Ashe’s mount before following his two companions into town. The three riders dashed through the streets of Berthold’s hometown, arriving unhindered at the door of the Frosty Tankard, the tavern where the fighter’s mother worked for her captors. As they rode to the front of the building, Berthold shouted “Gisela, come outside,” hoping his mother would hear him.
When his call went unanswered, the fighter lunged at the rickety old door to the tavern, easily bursting its hinges. Hiro, in similar fashion, hurled himself through one of the building’s front windows, landing on his feet amidst a shower of broken glass. Fallon remained outside, guarding the door. Inside, Hiro and Berthold found only four occupants: two goblins, an unarmed female orc and Bethold’s mother, Gisela.
As he went to work attacking one of the goblins, Berthold told his mother to run outside, but the stunned woman, overtaken by madness, stood where she was, staring dumbly. Hiro easily dispatched the other goblin before running over take his friend’s mother in his arms. Berthold called out, “It’s OK, mom, he’s a friend,” as his goblin’s lifeless form slid from his sword.
Outside, Fallon saw another force in the distance readying an attack. She called inside, alerting her friends to the need for haste. As Berthold emerged from the building, a hail of arrows fell upon them. The distance of the shooters caused most of the shots to fail, but two of them lodged into the fighter as he untied his horse. Fallon rode to the side of the building for cover while Hiro emerged, effortlessly carrying Gisela’s limp form.
Meanwhile, back at the bridge, Ashe, Caeg and Jonrek fought to thin out the line of goblin and orc defenders. Ashe immobilized the entire line, save for one particularly resilient goblin, with a Gust of Wind spell, while the ranger, cleric and Shadow the wolf worked to take down their all-but helpless foes. Once their horses were able to rise, Jonrek’s mount, being untrained for battle, fled into the open plains before either its owner or Caeg could catch it. Jonrek was able to catch the ranger’s only slightly less frightened mount, however, and rode the creature into battle with an unusually adroit goblin. After only a few moments, the three friends had defeated the entire skirmish line.
Ashe remounted and rode into town just as Fallon, with Berthold and Hiro close behind, rode out.
“Go back, our task is complete,” called out the half-elf ranger, as she approached her druid friend.
“I have a purpose here,” responded Ashe.
As Fallon, Berthold and Hiro continued to ride toward the bridge, Ashe cast an Entangle spell at the crossroads next to the tavern, as Hoobis’ troops began approaching the junction from both the south and west. The druid then turned and followed her friends out of town, stopping only to cast another Entangle spell on the far side of the bridge from town, ensuring that any pursuers would be significantly slowed in their progress. Jonrek had already cast a Darkness spell on one of the bridge’s support beams, serving to conceal the druid’s handiwork beyond.
With Berthold’s mother slung over her son’s saddle and Jonrek riding behind Caeg, the triumphant friends bid a not-so-fond farewell to Hinterford and rode hard into the northland, each praying to his or her respective deity for safe passage to Merkurn.
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"Suffering is the touchstone of all spiritual growth."
-St. Sollars the Twice-Martyred |
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Brother Ezra
Learned Scribe
USA
268 Posts |
Posted - 02 Sep 2004 : 04:49:40
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Upon leaving Hinterford, the party rode north a small distance before heading west. A short while later, they realized they had made a miscalculation in their haste, and were once again within eyeshot of the abandoned guard tower, which was now teeming with Hoobis’ forces. As they turned north, the riders began to hear the howls and snarls of pursuing worgs behind them.
Furiously, they spurred their horses onward as fast as the beasts could go and, finally, after about an hour of riding, they could no longer hear their hunters. They slowed their mounts, now straining and frothy with perspiration, but continued to ride, once again toward the west, until they were heavy-laden with exhaustion.
Several party members hadn’t slept substantially in more than two days, so the group decided to set single watches for the night. Somewhere around midnight, Hiro’s watch was disturbed by the sound of footfalls. The barbarian ran back to camp, several yards away from his post, and woke his companions before rushing back out to meet the intruders. Just as the approaching figures began to resolve themselves in the half-orc’s darkvision, a volley of arrows assailed him.
Fallon, the first to stir to Hiro’s call, immediately made for her horse and charged toward the sound of bowstrings, while Caeg ran, bow in hand, to Hiro’s side. Ashe awoke and directed Shadow to attack before casting a “produce flame” spell. Seeing that Caeg had opted to fight unmounted, Jonrek leapt onto the ranger’s horse and rode after Fallon. Berthold joined only after making certain his mother remained safely asleep.
Arriving at Hiro’s side, Caeg was immediately pierced by an arrow and, still blinded by the darkness, took cover behind the massive barbarian. Hiro sneered at the ranger’s display of apparent cowardice and stepped out to meet one of a pair of approaching orcs, while Shadow ripped the throat from the other. Ashe arrived then, and threw a ball of flame onto Hiro’s opponent. The orc began to furiously pat out the flames igniting its hairy flesh when Hiro ended its struggling with a swift slash of his axe.
Ashe’s spell, now closer to the attackers, illuminated a group of five goblins in the distance just in time for Fallon to guide her horse in their direction. The ranger trampled one of the little wretches before changing course and riding toward a second victim. Right behind her, Jonrek rode up and speared a second goblin. Caeg, now able to see, regained his wits and took down a third goblin with a flawless bowshot. As he caught up with his companions, Berthold skewered a fourth goblin on his sword while, beside him, Fallon’s horse finished off the fifth one with a solid hoof-blow to the head.
Once they were certain there were no other scouts in the area, the group returned to their bedrolls and slept for the remainder of the night.
They continued west for another day before turning south toward Merkurn. Their travels were surprisingly peaceful, with the exception of an attack by a winter wolf that nearly ripped the belly out of Hiro’s horse. Though the beast was fierce, the six companions, along with Shadow, had little trouble taking it down. Hiro added its teeth to his growing collection, while Jonrek healed the barbarian’s badly wounded horse.
The party continued southward, riding both day and night and resting only when necessity dictated. Though they had seen no sign of Kaelin or the four refugees, they were not worried, believing the ragtag group was progressing steadily toward Merkurn, just as they, themselves, were. Their only other encounter was with a friendly, if vigilant, group of rangers. In the dark of night, the adventurers had not seen the camouflaged woodsmen and were startled when a voice called out, “Holy Justice, are your companions friend or foe?”
The group halted their mounts as a confused Jonrek answered tentatively, “Friend.”
The rangers asked the group their reason for traveling into the wilds of Soravia and were given an honest reply. When they introduced themselves the Soravian Talebringers, an order of rangers much like the one that Fallon had grown up among, the half-elf’s pointed ears perked and she took up the role of group spokesperson, allowing the still flustered cleric to fall into the background. The group shared what little information they had about the forces occupying the Star of Infelice with the rangers, who said they were on a scouting mission, then continued their southward journey.
After four days of hard riding, the party arrived at the gates of Merkurn amazed they had survived their flight from Hinterford. The town was very much as it had been when they passed through on their way up: bleak and heavily fortified. Though the gate guards were no less wary of the companions than before, they did take an interest in the tale of the rescue of Berthold’s mother and the group’s subsequent journey. Merely surviving for a week in the monster-ridden plains was a worthy accomplishment.
The companions were granted leave to stay in town, though there were no inns to welcome them. Only soldiers remained, guarding their home from raiding remnants of Zhengyi’s army. Everyone else had evacuated. Still, the friends had an enjoyable evening in the pub where the soldiers spent their free hours. For much of the evening, they shared their tale with an ever-widening audience, who kept their ale mugs filled. At night they slept alongside the townspeople in their crowded, makeshift barracks.
By morning, there had been no sign of Kaelin or Berthold's father. Though this was to be expected—the “diplomat” and the refugees he escorted were on foot, while they, themselves, had been riding— the group decided to travel back up to the bend in the river north of Merkurn to give them a safe escort for the final leg of their journey. Berthold left his mother in the care of a kind female soldier, giving the woman a few talers for her troubles, and the group set out. The ride to the river bend took most of a day, and the companions camped there for the night. When, in the morning, Kaelin’s group had still not arrived, the party decided to scout the immediate area in an attempt to find them. They separated into two groups—Hiro, Ashe and Caeg in one, and Berthold, Jonrek and Fallon in the other—and rode in opposing circles near the bend, covering about a nine square mile area. They moved slowly, allowing the rangers to search for tracks that could belong to their friends. The two groups circled the area for four days, each night meeting back at the bend in the river, but found nothing more interesting than a caribou trail and some small tracks that looked like a goblin troop.
They returned to town to reprovision, hoping perhaps their friends had somehow bypassed their patrol and arrived safely, but were disappointed to learn they had not. They rode back up the following day, staying together this time, and made a much larger circle for another four days. There was still no sign of the companions, though Fallon found the tracks of seven human-sized figures, moving in the wrong direction, from the northwest to the southeast. They followed these for most of a day, but it became clear they could not be Kaelin's group when they turned due east near the river, so they turned around and continued their circle.
Their journey carried them back near the Star of Infelice and, as they neared Thimble, the Star’s southern town, they were startled by the howl of goblin-bearing worgs. Though one of the worg-riders crested a nearby hillside, becoming momentarily visible to them, the companions were relieved to realize they had not been spotted. They traveled for two more days, but when they again reached the riverbed there had still been no sign of Kaelin or Wulfgang. The only interesting tracks they found were giant ones, and they wondered with a shudder if those belonged to Fjolrir, a frost giant who they believed commanded the forces in the Star.
They returned to Merkurn, dejected, and learned that Kaelin and the escaped townspeople had still not arrived. By then, it had been nearly two weeks since their departure from Hinterford. Even on foot, the journey should have taken no more than a week. They waited another two days in Merkurn before deciding to make for Heliogabalus in hopes that someone there could help them locate their lost friends.
Their journey back to the capitol city was uncannily peaceful, and when they arrived three days later, the first thing they did was visit Nesselbryl, the commercial mage they had dealt with on their previous visit. She immediately informed the adventurers that she had sold their spellbook, yielding a share of 500 talers for them. Fallon, not terribly concerned about the gold or the book, impatiently interrupted her. The ranger informing Nesselbryl of Kaelin’s disappearance and asked if the wizard knew any divination spells that could help to find him. Nesselbryl, who—to the rogue’s friends—seemed disproportionately upset by the news of his disappearance, regretfully replied that she was not powerful enough to know such spells. She said she knew of only one wizard with the power to find Kaelin: Feriblan. Agreeing that the eccentric old mage was not likely to help them, Nesselbryl promised to try and think of someone else or some other way to locate their missing friend, and bid the adventurers to return in the morning.
Weary and worried sick, the companions checked into the White Horse Inn, hoping that the morrow would bring them the answers they needed to find Kaelin and Wulfgang.
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"Suffering is the touchstone of all spiritual growth."
-St. Sollars the Twice-Martyred |
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Brother Ezra
Learned Scribe
USA
268 Posts |
Posted - 02 Sep 2004 : 05:18:39
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As the remaining companions debated their various options in locating Kaelin and Berthold’s father, the druid Ashe slipped away, claiming there was some equipment she needed to buy. A few hours later, the group had not reached a decision, seeing uncertainty with every option. There were spells that Nesselbryl could cast, but none could positively ensure the whereabouts of their missing companions, nor could those spells reveal if they lived with any certainty. As the group returned to the White Horse, Ashe rejoined the group. Seeming somewhat pensive, she sits down with her remaining companions.
Ashe takes a deep breath, pauses, and then continues:
"There's something I have to tell you before you decide if you want Nesselbryl to cast her spells."
"I've been worried about Kaelin a lot, and I didn't like the idea that he might still be out in the middle of the wilderness with three helpless farmers, surrounded by evil creatures everywhere. The rangers, barbarian or I could handle it better because we're used to the wilds, but Kaelin is a city boy; he doesn't know how to read the weather in the wind, or how to listen for the approach of enemies by listening to the ground, or how to tell a poison berry from a boysenberry. Each day that has passed by, I've grown more and more
concerned."
"I felt like I had to do something. You're probably going to be angry, and it seems to me now to be a little like what Corian pulled with us, but at the time it seemed like the right thing to do."
"After we arrived in Heliogabalus, I went to see Feriblan. He wouldn't see me initially, so I left him a note telling him that I had to speak with him. The only way I knew to get him interested in helping us was the Greymantle Letters. At first I tried to appeal to
his good nature, but he told me that he had no good nature to appeal to. I had to resort to appealing to his greed."
"I told him that we located the Letters in Eralion's keep, and that Kaelin had them with him when he disappeared. I let him know we needed to find Kaelin, and I offered to give him the Letters if he could locate Kaelin. He told me that he could cast a spell to locate either Kaelin or the letters, but if he located Kaelin, and he was dead, he would find the location of his soul, not his body. Since Feriblan once owned the letters, he could locate them, if they still existed."
"Not seeing any other way, I agreed to sign a contract stating that I would either return the letters to Feriblan, or pay him 1640 talers in return for him casting the spell. As an added precaution, Feriblan insisted on putting a quest on me, so that if I don't leave the city and start searching for the letters in seven days, I'll start to die."
"He had a cleric of Tyr write up the document, and I signed it. He cast the spell, and then put the quest on me."
”So, I now know where the letters are, and hopefully also where Kaelin and Berthold's dad are. They're way back in the north of Soravia, almost all the way back to Hinterford. I choose to do this on my own, and I don't expect any of you to accompany me. I think I can make it up there safely using my druidic powers, and having Shadow and my new falcon to help me. In fact, it might be better if none of you come with me; I plan to sneak up, find Kaelin, and sneak back without attacking anything, if possible."
Ashe finishes her tale, and stands in front of her companions, awaiting their reaction. She seemed both nervous and confident. The group was somewhat taken aback to see such independence from the young, quiet druid.
Falon looks at Ashe with an unmasked expression of admiration. It is clear she has underestimated the seemingly naive druid. The usually sullen ranger gives an uncharacteristic smile.
"You have done well, Ashe. I don't think even Kaelin could have convinced that wicked old man to help us, and you have done so. Certainly, you should have talked to the rest of us first, but I understand your impulse. I, too, would have done just about anything to save our friend. I, too, had the very same thought you had regarding the Greymantle letters, but you did it, and I applaud you for it. Actually, I have been concerned about the letters for some time. I had worried that once of Orcus' followers would capture us, take the letters and loose an era of evil on Toril that would male Zhengyi’s reign look like a minor inconvenience. Perhaps they will be safer with Feriblan. I only hope we're not too late, for Kaelin, or for the letters.”
”As for your insistence that it might be better if you go alone, I heartily disagree. I don't doubt your skills in the wild, but one alone, even with the aid of wolf and hawk, is a mighty easy target. I can't force you to take me with you, but I don't really believe you want to go alone. If you had, you could have slipped from you bed at any time, leaving no clue as to where you went, or a note telling us you know where Kaelin is. You didn't. Why?"
Ashe blushes a little at the compliment.
"I agree the letters would be safer with Feriblan which is why I went to him. He had the letters 25 years ago and didn't do anything, seemingly anyway, evil with them."
"I wish to go alone because of the 'quest' placed upon me by Feriblan. If by chance Wulfgang and the others survived I wouldn't be able to go with you to help them. I also think I could travel at a faster pace alone. I'd be able to cover my tracks and the tracks of my horse easier that way...with spells and my own ability to leave no tracks or scent."
"If you insist on going with me we can plan to depart in a few days. I have some things to accomplish in town prior to my departure."
Caeg takes the opportunity to uncharacteristically voice his opinion:
"More the reason why you should not go alone. While you are getting the letters, others can be searching for our friends. It is your quest, though, so it is for you to decide. You say you have business in town for the next few days. Can you be certain Kaelin has such time left? We have lost much time already."
Ashe turns red, straightens her back and says, "Fine...we'll leave day after tomorrow. I'll meet you here at first light."
After doing some re-provisioning, each member of the group returns to the White Horse Inn, ready to enjoy the comforts of a bed; the return trip to Soravia would see precious few opportunities for such restful sleep. Hiro opts to sleep outside the city (as usual), having grown accustomed to the feel of hard ground under his back. Ashe leaves
the city to tend to Shadow.
The following morning, after some inquiries at the Ilmatari temple, Berthold learns that the church of Ilmater operates a hospice in the city, where care can be given to his mother. The priests would welcome her at the facility, but caution Berthold that they are more trained in treating diseases of the body than maladies of the mind. They promise to do what they can to aid her in her recovery, if it can be accomplished. However, as Ashe does not make an appearance with the group after noon, the group begins to grow suspicious of her whereabouts. A check back at the White Horse reveals no sign of her. When asked if she had seen Ashe in the last day, the proprietress, Lily Langbaum, hands you a note. "I wasn't supposed to give you this until the morrow, mistress, but you seem concerned, and I'd not see any misfortune befall any of ye, including Mistress Ashe."
The hastily-written note contains a message from Ashe to the rest of the group:
Dear Friends,
By the time you read this, I will have already left to save Kaelin and Berthold's father, if I can. I feel responsible for their disappearance, as I originally planned to accompany Kaelin and the refugees back to Merkurn, but changed my mind at the last minute. The fear of the consequences of that decision will not leave me until I find Kaelin alive and safe. I am confident in my ability to locate our missing companions now that Feriblan has pinpointed their location for me. I have Shadow to protect me, my new falcon to help me scout the wilderness, and I have gained the assistance of an unexpected companion, whose skills will be useful in the coming journey. I expect to return to Heliogabalus within two tendays at most. If I do not return by that time, you must consider me dead. If so, please do not waste any more of your resources trying to find me; it seems that Soravia swallows up one of our number each time we visit her. Berthold, if your father still lives and is in Kaelin's company, we will defend him with our lives and bring him back safely to you. However, if they have been recaptured, the nature of Feriblan's spell
prevents me from pursuing them, and I must return to Heliogabalus immediately after recovering the Greymantle Letters. If we decide subsequently to re-attempt Wulfgang's rescue, you will have my complete support.
As the elves say, `sweet water and light laughter till the next.'
Ashe
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"Suffering is the touchstone of all spiritual growth."
-St. Sollars the Twice-Martyred |
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Brother Ezra
Learned Scribe
USA
268 Posts |
Posted - 08 Oct 2004 : 16:16:57
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Caeg and Berthold's tale.
From the moment the group arrived back in Merkurn, Berthold knew something was wrong.
It was a vague fear at first, easily supplanted by a number of rational explanations that would justify Kaelin’s delayed arrival in the fortified town. Yet Berthold’s father Wulfgang accompanied Kaelin and three other refugees from Hinterford through dangerous country. In hindsight, Berthold wondered if perhaps another member of the group, perhaps one specialized in combat like Caeg or Fallon should have accompanied Kaelin.
The feeling of wrongness continued to grow as each day passed. The group had ridden to the bend in the Icelace River, the most recognizable landmark in the area, and had sought some sign of Kaelin’s passage for several days without success. The group then decided to travel back to Heliogabalus to see if Kaelin bypassed Merkurn for some reason. In the back of his mind, Berthold knew that this was highly unlikely. Yet his conscious mind grasped for any sliver of hope that this was all just a big misunderstanding, and that Kaelin and his father were resting comfortably in the Damaran capital presently.
Yet their arrival at Heliogabalus brought no further sign of Kaelin or Wulfgang. Even the commercial mage Nesselbryl had seen no sign of them, and surely Kaelin would have seen her to collect their money for the sale of the spell book she had placed on consignment. Worry turned to fear, and fear to desperation as the group sought various magical means to locate Kaelin’s whereabouts. Growing more impatient as each hour passed, Berthold found some cold comfort in arranging for his mother’s well being at the local Ilmatari hospice.
Later, just as it seemed the group had decided to return to Soravia to track down Kaelin, Ashe disappeared, stating that she blamed herself for the refugee’s disappearance, and had managed to locate the Greymantle Letters, which were still presumably in Kaelin’s possession. Ashe stated in her note that she did not want anyone to accompany or pursue her. Bane’s balls to that! This was Berthold’s father, someone he had risked life and limb to rescue from the clutches of a certain grisly death. He was not about to give up just because someone else felt the pangs of guilt.
Berthold looked to see who would accompany him back to Soravia to follow Ashe and find Kaelin and Wulfgang, but let each of his fellows know that he did not expect them to come if they didn’t wish to do so. Fallon replied that she had to respect Ashe’s wish not to be followed, and planned to travel to her home in Rawlinswood to recruit help from Gwaeron’s Gallants. Jonrek offered his regrets that he needed to remain in the city to perform the advancement ceremonies required in the Tyrran church to advance in title. Hiro sounded unusually distant and unconcerned, wanting only to drink and arm-wrestle in the local taverns. Only Caeg offered his sword to accompany Berthold back to Soravia.
They departed the next morning, riding hard, not stopping track Ashe, knowing that she would most likely follow the easiest, quickest route to Merkurn. The first day brought them almost to Steppenhall, the next into Merkurn by nightfall. Neither night brought any untoward encounters, and while in Steppenhall the duo learned that Ashe traveled with a dwarf. Not knowing who this dwarf was or why he was traveling with Ashe, the two continued on their journey without satisfactory answers.
After finding out that Ashe and her companion had headed north from Merkurn just the previous morning, Berthold and Caeg departed as well, making their way to the bend in the Icelace River, where they hoped to pick up Ashe’s tracks. Upon arrival at the landmark, Caeg located the tracks easily enough, but strangely, they wandered directly into the river, and he could not locate where they exited. Searching upriver for another hour, they were still unable to locate their quarry’s tracks, and Berthold assumed that Ashe had used some sort of druidic magic to cover their trail. It seemed that the young druid really did not want to be followed!
The next several days saw several encounters with both friend and foe, but brought no further sign of either Kaelin or Ashe. Early on, Berthold and Caeg were awakened by the sounds of a nearby battle. Cautiously approaching the scene, they came upon the corpses of several slaughtered goblins, but no sign of their attackers. After a few moments, however, the mystery was solved as several members of the band of rangers known as the Soravian Talebringers emerged from hidden tree branches and high grass. After pleasantries were exchanged, one ranger named Lilandra advised that she had met both Ashe and the unknown dwarf (whom was described as surly, disagreeable and stubborn) just the previous day. Lilandra also passed on some ominous news: the town of Hinterford had been burned to the ground, and its occupiers and remaining slaves had all moved south, towards Tokard, the central town in the Star of Infelice.
Later, the two adventurers encountered a group of orcs, whom they disposed of without much ado, picking them off one at a time from a range. A group of ghouls was also dispatched in the same manner later that day. A troll was also spotted in the distance, but was wisely avoided.
Several days passed as the two gradually made their way further and further north, slowly approaching the five villages known collectively as the Star of Infelice. One of those towns, the northernmost, was Hinterford, the place of Berthold’s birth, the former home of his family, recently occupied by the disorganized but powerful remnants of the Witch-King’s army, and now purportedly burned to the ground and abandoned. After rescuing his parents from slavery, Berthold had hoped never to see the small town again. Now, he approached it steadily with an unsettling feeling that he would see the town at least once more.
Berthold was startled out of his reverie by a sudden snap of branches and crunch of leaves and stone. He turned his head just in time to see a huge dire wolf leaping out from a concealed spot right next to his horse. Before he even had time to draw his sword, the huge wolf tore a huge chuck of flesh from the horse’s hindquarters, and the horse began to stagger and fall. Having no small amount of skill in riding, Berthold swung effortlessly to one side of the wounded mount and then pushed off with all his strength, landing clear of the animal as it hit the ground, bleeding profusely from the savage wound.
Caeg, riding in front of Berthold, swung his mount around and began to pepper the massive wolf with arrows. Meanwhile, most of Berthold’s personal goods and equipment were stored in saddlebags on his mount, so he was loath to simply leave the horse behind. Seizing on an idea, he reached into his pack, and pulled out one of the potions of cure moderate wounds he had purchased prior to leaving Heliogabalus, he pulled the unconscious horse’s mouth open and poured the almond-smelling liquid down its throat.
The effect was instantaneous. The massive wound in the horse’s hindquarters healed considerably, and the horse struggled to rise to its feet again. However, the dire wolf was not ready to give up on its meal yet, and as the horse attempted to gain it’s footing, the wolf lunged forward, its massive jaws clamping down on the doomed horse’s back. The loud crack of its backbone was like the snapping of dry tinder, and Berthold knew that his mount would not return with him.
Berthold had no choice but to leave the majority of his belongings with his deceased mount, and reluctantly hopped onto Caeg’s horse, screaming “Ride!” at the top of his voice. The dire wolf, satisfied with its meal of horseflesh, made no attempt to follow the fleeing adventurers.
Lacking supplies and adequate provisions, Caeg and Berthold reluctantly decided to return to Merkurn, the goal of their quest remaining unfulfilled. Berthold’s dislike of Soravia had blossomed into a quiet hatred, and he made a solemn vow as he and Caeg began the trek back to Merkurn: he would not rest until the scum that made up Zhengyi’s army had paid for the damage done to his family and the people of the Star of Infelice. Indeed, paid many times over. He made a special vow for Hoobis, the leader of the Hinterford slavers. They would meet again.
Ilmater perhaps gazed down and saw Berthold’s suffering, for the duo narrowly escaped a potentially deadly encounter with a troll. They also came upon several refugees from the Star, and led them back to the relative safety of Merkurn. Caeg and Berthold arrived back safely in Merkurn to find Ashe and the unknown dwarf waiting for them. Ashe began to tell them the story of her travels and what happened, but that too is a tale worth telling, and it is best told at another time.
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"Suffering is the touchstone of all spiritual growth."
-St. Sollars the Twice-Martyred |
Edited by - Brother Ezra on 11 Jul 2005 05:15:48 |
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Brother Ezra
Learned Scribe
USA
268 Posts |
Posted - 21 Jan 2005 : 16:36:25
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Well, it's been quite a while since I updated the campaign log. Our group is still going strong, but I got stuck with writer's block on one of the summaries, and held off posting anything further to maintain the story's continuity.
Happy to say that the writer's block is gone, and I have completed the next chapter of the campaign. There are several other chapters, all written, which follow this one, so a lot of information (three full month's worth of gaming) will be posted over the next few days.
I hope you enjoy the continuing exploits of the group. |
"Suffering is the touchstone of all spiritual growth."
-St. Sollars the Twice-Martyred |
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Brother Ezra
Learned Scribe
USA
268 Posts |
Posted - 22 Jan 2005 : 16:46:22
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Ashe and Gunther’s Tale.
With each passing hour, Ashe grew more concerned for Kaelin’s safety. This reaction surprised her somewhat, for she hadn’t realized how close she had grown to the canny diplomat until after he had disappeared. Ashe was still uncertain what it was about Kaelin that drew her; she was still largely a shy young woman, uncomfortable among any but the closest family and friends. Perhaps it was his flashy bravado, so different from her own demeanor. Or maybe it was his lack of concern for the battle between good and evil, an attitude she found herself emulating more and more. It may also have been the cloak of mystery and secrecy with which he surrounded himself. How much did any of them really know about Kaelin Drache? Could any of them differentiate truth from fabrication when it came to Kaelin? Regardless, the druid had learned more about human nature from Kaelin than from any other. And now, he was lost somewhere in the wilds of Soravia; dead, captured or fighting for his life, she did not know.
Ashe had no intention of leaving Kaelin to fate’s whims. This reaction too surprised her, for the determination and spontaneity of this decision were uncharacteristic of her. She shrugged; perhaps she was growing.
Numerous inquiries by the rest of the group had not brought them any closer to locating their missing comrade, and Ashe decided that action must be taken immediately. Excusing herself from the rest of the group, she headed for the Castle district in Heliogabalus, the home of a certain notable mage, a plan forming in her mind.
Gunther “Feuerhand” Felsenkinder Kriegleiterblud von Earthfasthold had not been overly impressed with the former capital of the human kingdom of Damara. It was smaller than the Impilturian port city of Sarshel, through which he had passed to arrive in Heliogabalus. Nor was it as prosperous apparently. He had wandered through the city, noticing many closed shops and an abundance of run-down or abandoned buildings. He was further disappointed by the lack of any organized mage’s guild or association. He had hoped to join such an organization upon arrival, learning as much magical knowledge as possible from the Damaran humans before returning to his clan in the Earthfast Mountains. His clan had charged him and four others of his clan to go into the realms of humans and learn the ways of magic from them. Dwarves had not traditionally been adept at the arcane arts, but the most recent generation of dwarves, the generation of the Thunder Blessing, had demonstrated heretofore unusual aptitude as wizards and sorcerers. The chieftain of his clan needed every weapon at his disposal to continue their centuries-old battle against the orc hordes that threatened their halls. Gunther looked forward to the day when entire squadrons of orc filth would die from the arcane fire at his command.
There seemed to be a lot of traffic around the temple of Tyr (the human god of justice and law; a noble deity, surely), so Gunther decided to watch people from there and see what opportunities developed.
Ashe’s initial efforts to meet with the renowned mage Feriblan met with failure. She attempted to appeal to the innate goodness she perceived in him, but his response informed her that he had no innate goodness to which she could appeal. Desperately hoping for any assistance at all, Ashe gambled by informing Feriblan that she could potentially return the Greymantle Letters to him, secretly hoping that they were still with Kaelin. This approach seemed to work, and gained her a meeting with the renowned mage on the following day.
Ashe set out to the marketplace early the next morning and after some frustrating negotiations, secured a trained falcon that she hoped would assist her with her search for Kaelin. Casting a speak with animals spell, she explained what she wanted the falcon to do. The falcon agreed, providing that Ashe allowed him to hunt and didn’t keep him in a cage.
Back at Feriblan’s manor at highsun, Ashe was ushered into the same sitting room where the group met the mage a few weeks ago. One of Feriblan’s students, a young human enchanter named Elodyr, brought Ashe a cup of tea before Feriblan joined her, which she promptly poured into a potted plant next to her. Feriblan joined her in his sitting room a few moments later, and commented that his plants don’t particularly care for hot tea. Attempting to hide her embarrassment, Ashe proceeded to tell Feriblan about the recovery of the Greymantle Letters, and offered to return them to him if he, in return, would pinpoint the location of the letters. Feriblan expressed his desire to have the letters returned to him; he had suffered some embarrassment when the letters were not returned to him by Eralion, and would greatly like to correct that unfortunate error. Feriblan agreed to Ashe’s proposal, but with the proviso that she would sign a contract detailing the terms of the agreement, and that he be permitted to place a quest on her to ensure her adherence to the terms of the agreement. With Ashe’s approval, the two headed for the House of Righteous Rule to draw up the contract.
A full day had passed, loitering in front of the Tyrran temple, and Gunther still had no idea how to identify a human mage. Several times he saw what he thought looked like a wizard, but his uncertainty about human modes of dress kept him from approaching. His frustration grew by the hour, and shortly after highsun he steeled his resolve and vowed to talk to the next likely human he saw. His decision was rewarded a few moments later when he spied an elderly well-dressed human male emerging from the temple accompanied by a travel-stained human female. The male seemed to have the haughty and self-possessed demeanor he expected from a human mage, but before he could approach, the human melted into the crowd with a smug expression on his face. Undaunted, Gunther approached the female and introduced himself, using his full dwarven name to impress her. She seemed not to notice the honor he paid to her, and gave her name as Ashe Moonsong, a woefully inadequate but typically human name. He learned that Ashe was a druid, not a wizard, but her now-departed companion indeed was a mage of some reputation in the city. Ashe explained that she was searching for a missing friend, and had sought the mage for assistance. She had learned where her friend was located from the wizard, and now intended to depart immediately in search of him. She feared that he was in great danger. She also was charged to recover an item for the wizard in exchange for his services.
Perhaps this would be a way to ingratiate himself to the wizard by assisting this human in her task. There seemed to be no other opportunities available to him at the moment, so Gunther offered his help in locating her friend and recovering this item. In return, he merely asked for an equal share of any loot they obtained while on the journey, and for an introduction to her mage patron once the task had been completed. Ashe agreed, and the two made preparations to depart for northern Soravia, where Ashe’s friend had been located.
Very quickly, Gunter began to grow suspicious of the druid. First, she informed him that she was a member of a local adventuring group, but she did not want the rest of her companions to know that she was leaving the city to search for her friend. She would also not give him any information about the nature of the item to be recovered, saying only that it was best that he not know anything further. The druid’s wolf companion also seemed to take a dislike to Gunther, a feeling that he shared mutually. Hoping that all would become clear as their journey progressed, Gunther kept mostly silent as they crossed the bridge into the village of Daleport, and then followed the river northeast into Steppenhall, where they rested for the evening.
Having encountered nothing more menacing than the occasional patrol, Gunther began to worry that he was wasting his time, but when they reached the embattled town of Merkurn, his spirits lifted. The small town was an armed camp, and showed multiple signs of battle recently. Many of the small farmhouses and businesses in the town were burnt or damaged, and virtually everyone in the village was armed and alert. Gunther learned that the thorp had been the target of regular raids from the north, where remnants of the Witch-King’s army still occupied a large swath of land. Ashe seemed to expect this, and learned that no sign of her missing companion had been reported. Continuing to follow the Icelace River northwards, Gunther reviewed his spellbook carefully in hopes of a pending confrontation.
Ashe was careful to leave as little trace of their passage as possible. Feeling partly responsible for Kaelin’s disappearance, she felt it her duty to rescue him if she could. Feriblan’s spell had located the Greymantle Letters in the northeast corner of Soravia, only a day’s ride west from Hinterford. Ashe didn’t know what to make of the information she gained; if Kaelin had been captured, he would most likely have been brought to one of the towns in the Star of Infelice. If he had eluded capture, however, wouldn’t he have found a way to return to the safety of the south? She secretly worried that Kaelin had either lost or discarded the Greymantle Letters, and that she was on a wild goose-chase. Having no other viable options, she continued on to her destination. Reaching the eastern bend in the Icelace, Ashe instructed Gunther to wade into the river, and then she cast a pass without trace spell to completely conceal their tracks when they emerged from the river. She suspected that her companions would try to follow her, and wanted to be sure that she left no trail for them to follow. The group had narrowly escaped from Soravia alive the last time they were here; she had no desire to put the rest of her friends in any further jeopardy.
They set out to the north, using an occasional know direction spell to keep them on course. Very soon, their journey became much more dangerous, and the three travelers were beset by a large group of zombies while resting for the evening. Exhausting nearly all their combined spells, the trio survived the attack, but each had been badly wounded, and Ashe had only a limited amount of healing magic available to her. They recuperated as best they could, and continued to the north, Ashe using her newly-acquired falcon to scout out the area ahead of them. Later the next day, they encountered a group of rangers from the band known as the Soravian Talebringers. Gunther seemed to distrust the group of rangers, a feeling the rangers shared. Despite the tension of the meeting, it was learned that the village of Hinterford had been burned to the ground, and that the occupying forces had taken the surviving slaves and traveled south to Tokard. This was an ill omen, but did not change their mission. Taking their leave of the rangers, the group continued to forge northwards.
Carefully avoiding any further encounters, the group finally reached the area where Ashe believed she would find Kaelin. There seemed to be nothing of significance about the area; the sparsely wooded Soravian plain had gradually become gently rolling foothills. Ashe instructed her falcon to scout out the area, and report any sighting of humans. Ashe and Gunther began to scour the area. Shortly before highsun, they came upon a cave whose entrance was littered by the remains of several types of creatures. Gunther began to approach the cave when a brown bear cub emerged, growling menacingly. Unimpressed, Gunther growled back at him, scaring the cub back into its den. Gunther took position at the mouth of the cave while Ashe began to inspect the litter of bones. The bear cub remained in the back of the cave, growling but not approaching any further.
Ashe carefully examined the scattered remains. A few moments later, a shocked gasp escaped from her. Lying among the detritus, she discovered the partially eaten and decomposed corpse of her friend Kaelin. Holding back her tears, she opened the torn pack attached to the corpse, and found the Greymantle Letters still intact. Lying next to Kaelin’s body was the corpse of Berthold’s father, Wulfgang Aelfson. Wanting to give both a proper burial, Ashe placed the remains into several sacks, and informed Gunther that she had found what they sought. Gunther expressed his condolences, but did not know how to give solace to the bereaved druid. They turned back to the south, hoping to reach Merkurn as quickly as possible.
However, their scent was quickly picked up by the bear cub’s mother, who began to pursue the retreating group. Realizing that they could not outrun the enraged brown bear, they engaged it in combat, and narrowly managed to defeat it. Ashe took cold comfort in knowing that they had avenged Kaelin’s death and slain his killer.
While still a few days away from Merkurn, the group was accosted by a dire wolf. Still suffering from the wounds, the trio was in no condition to face the huge lupine. But before they could retreat, Ashe’s wolf companion Shadow was knocked unconscious by a savage bite from the dire wolf, dropping him to the ground. Seeing her beloved companion in mortal danger, Ashe rushed to his side and cast her last remaining healing spell on him. The wolf awoke and struggled to rise to his feet. Ashe had no time to react before her wolf, struggling to regain his footing, incurred another devastating bite from the dire wolf, which clamped its massive jaws around the unfortunate animal’s neck, killing it instantly.
“NOOOOOOO!!!” screamed the anguished druid as she watched the dire wolf shake its fallen prey in its jaws. Somehow, with Gunther’s insistent urging, wisdom overcame her rage and grief, and the two quickly mounted their horses and retreated southwards, leaving her oldest and most beloved friend on the vast Soravian plain.
Battle-weary and exhausted from travel and grief, Ashe and Gunther arrived safely in Merkurn at last. Upon arrival, they met Berthold and Caeg, who had attempted to follow them unsuccessfully. The companions shared their tales, and Ashe informed Berthold of the death of both his father and Kaelin, which the fighter bore stoically. Unable to delay due to the effects of Feriblan’s quest, the reunited adventurers traveled back to Heliogabalus to return the Greymantle Letters to Feriblan. Each one of them quietly hoped that they would never have to return to Soravia again. Each time they traveled there, Soravia had taken one of their companions as a sacrifice. None of them wanted to test this belief any further.
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"Suffering is the touchstone of all spiritual growth."
-St. Sollars the Twice-Martyred |
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Brother Ezra
Learned Scribe
USA
268 Posts |
Posted - 22 Jan 2005 : 17:00:52
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The final hours of Kaelin Drache.
Kaelin watched the rest of the group gallop eastward through the pre-dawn rain and fog, certain that they were going to their graves. He was surprised to feel regret; he was a practical man, if nothing else, and knew that the group was embarking on a fool’s errand. To charge brazenly into a town occupied by hundreds of enemies was the ultimate act of desperation. Kaelin had no more ideas on how to liberate Berthold’s mother than anyone else did. However, he was of the opinion that the group should have been satisfied with the rescue of at least one of Bert’s parents, that they accept a partial victory, and head for safer havens. Yet, as he listened to the fading hoof beats in the distance, he was saddened by the knowledge that he would most likely never see any of them again. They were fools, yes, but good fools, brave fools, well-meaning fools, and he mused that he may have even have called some of them friends.
Thinking that he must be growing soft in his advanced age, he turned his thoughts to the four refugees that he was to accompany safely back to the village of Merkurn, several days’ journey to the south and west. Berthold’s father, Wulfgang Aelfson, wore a haggard expression, obviously worn with concern for his son and yet-to-be-rescued wife. For him to willingly leave the vicinity of Hinterford without his spouse and son was a great sacrifice. Yet he bore it well, and began trudging westward with a grim determination.
The other three refugees didn’t offer much in the way of protection: Waldo and Rolf were two aged farmers without any combat experience at all. The spears they carried from the ettin’s tower seemed out of place and uncomfortable in their hands. Waldo was a hearty man, although advanced in age. Rolf was older and frailer, and Kaelin doubted his ability to survive the journey even if no enemies were encountered at all. The last companion was a boy of perhaps eight winters. He had not spoken a word since his arrival at the tower several hours before. Neither the farmers nor Wulfgang knew the boy’s name, only that he was the son of a farmer named Emmer. Kaelin casually wondered what horrors the boy had witnessed during his captivity in Hinterford. Were his parents alive or dead? Did the boy witness their deaths?
Having neither answers nor comfort for the child, Kaelin resolutely turned to the west and followed after Wulfgang. The journey would be arduous, for enemy forces littered the terrain within several days ride from Hinterford. He shuddered to think of the creatures that had accosted his group on their trek towards the enslaved town; wolves both mundane and magical, trolls and orcs, all far more powerful than his rag-tag group of escaped slaves. He was also very aware that the main force of goblins and orcs, led by the mysterious goblin Hoobis, could be on his tail at this very moment. Kaelin could only hope that his fellow adventurers would severely damage the enemy force before they perished, and give Kaelin the time he needed to get out of enemy territory.
Daylight gradually bled into the cloud-covered sky, and their progress over the first few hours has unmarked by mishap. The rain gradually subsided, although the day remained overcast, and the morning air cool. Kaelin knew that his party would attempt to track him; there were two experienced rangers in the group, and Ashe’s wolf Shadow could also pick up their scent fairly easily. But he also realized that his enemies could track him as well, and this caused him greater distress. Therefore, Kaelin informed his band of escapees that they were to cover their tracks as best they could, and they would travel over hard terrain wherever possible, using streams frequently to throw off their pursuers. He simply had to rely on the ranger’s superior tracking abilities to locate him before his enemies did. He returned his gaze to the western horizon, seeking out a sign of the low hills in the distance that would signal his time to turn south.
The group took turns riding the unsaddled packhorse in a circuitous route around the group, scanning ahead and behind for any signs of danger. Around mid-morning, Wulfgang rode back to the group and reported a lone figure approaching quickly. As the group readied themselves for combat, the figure came into view; an emaciated human figure with glowing red eyes and feral fangs. Dirt-encrusted claws replaced its nails, and it emitted a snarl devoid of any human intelligence. Kaelin knew with certainty that it was an undead creature of some type; a wight perhaps, maybe a ghast or ghoul. Ah, how he missed that troublesome priest of Tyr now!
His troupe formed a tight defensive circle, allowing the boy to flee the area in sheer terror. The creature approached rapidly, obviously intent on devouring the humans. Its first attack rent a large wound into the farmer Rolf, who staggered away from the battlefield, badly wounded. Waldo circled around the creature and returned a savage stab with his spear, severely injuring the undead beast. Wulfgang dismounted and entered the fray, only to draw a slash of the creature’s claws and a bite from its noisome maw. Wulfgang had only succeeded in slightly injuring the creature, but the combination of wounds put it near to death. Kaelin attempted to hit the beast again, and landed a blow. Although the damage done was small, it was sufficient to drop the creature to the ground, and Kaelin administered a quick coup de grace, finishing it off for good.
Finding absolutely nothing of value on the naked corpse of the creature, Kaelin took stock of the condition of his group. Rolf had been badly hurt by the undead, and was in no condition to travel by foot. The creature had also injured Wulfgang, although he seemed to have enough strength to continue the journey. Waldo remained healthy, although the fear from the combat was still fresh on his face. The boy returned to the group, uninjured, but of little use defensively. Kaelin himself still bore the wounds incurred during his infiltration of Hinterford with Ashe and Hiro. He had received some healing from the cleric Jonrek, but it was not sufficient to heal his wounds entirely. Seeing no other alternative, he helped Rolf onto the packhorse, and the group wearily continued their journey.
Although they met no further attackers in the next few hours, exhaustion pursued them with vigilance, and eventually overcame them. Shortly after highsun, the group could go no further, and sought out a defensible and concealed area. Locating a bowl-shaped depression in the ground, the group set up camp, ate a small meal, tethered the horse to a nearby tree and set up a rotation for watch. Kaelin took the first watch, fighting off the weariness that threatened to overcome him. After three hours of uninterrupted peace, he gratefully took to his bedroll, leaving Waldo to guard the group. His sleep was brief, however, as Waldo awoke him with news of a group to the south. Waldo had been spotted, and the band of creatures was approaching. Kaelin ran to the top of the rise, spied a group of perhaps eight goblins, approaching his position rapidly. Returning to his charges, he gathered them in a tight circle, removed the small pinch of magical dust he had obtained from the dead wizard Vortigern, and dashed himself with the last of it.
The reaction of the farmers was instant. “Where did you go?” they whispered furiously.
Realizing that he had become invisible, but the rest of the group had not, Kaelin responded, “I’m right beside you. Stay here, and don’t make any noise!”
He returned back to the top of the bowl just in time to see the goblin force cresting the rise. Not knowing what else to do, he reached down to grab a handful of rocks and pebbles, and threw them at the nearest goblin. In his best shrieking, maniacal voice, he screamed “KILL YOU! EAT YOU!! TEAR THE FLESH FROM YOUR BONES AND SUCK OUT THE MARROW!!! MWWAAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!”
Uncertain and cautious, the goblins halted their advance, and gazed nervously around them, seeking the source of the threatening voice.
Running to their flank, Kaelin continued his ruse, grabbling mud, stones, dirt and tufts of sod to hurl at the goblin band. “I WILL FEAST ON YOUR SOULS! KILL YOU!! EAT YOU!!!! AAARRRGGGHHHH!!!!”
The goblins began to back away cautiously, brandishing their short bows, but when one broke rank and fled, the rest followed immediately. A parting arrow missed Kaelin by a wide distance, and the goblins fled to the south.
Returning again to the refugees, he became visible again.
“What happened? Where are the goblins? Did you kill them?”
He responded casually, “I convinced them to leave.” He climbed back into his bedroll, hoping for at least some sleep.
He knew he was dreaming. He knew that he was lying in an ill-concealed field in the middle of Nowhere, Soravia. Yet, in his dream, he sat next to Tavik, the half-orc cleric of Orcus whom they defeated at Eralion’s keep a month ago. Although he was sitting next to his enemy, they were engaged in a seemingly casual conversation.
“We stopped you. We beat you. We found the letters, and I plan to destroy them myself. No one will ever know the location of Mintas Rhelgor.” Kaelin heard himself say.
“Honestly, Kaelin, do you really believe that among all of Orcus’ faithful, I was the only one commissioned to resettle the Dread City? The Demon Lord has many followers far more powerful than me. While you have dawdled away the time shopping at Heliogabalus’ finer establishments, and rescuing doomed peasants, many of our faith have already begun the journey, and may have already arrived. The crypts shall be re-opened, and abominations shall spew forth across the length and breadth of the land entire. The blood of sacrifice will flow like water, and our Lord and Master will finally emerge into our world and rule over all.”
Then he saw the city, the ancient doomed city of Mintas Rhelgor, the forges stoked, the smithies aglow, and the city streets overflowing with undead of all types and sizes. He saw the lake on whose shore the city sat begin to steam, then boil, then transform into blood. Something was at the bottom of the lake, struggling to rise, something hideous, otherworldly, terrifying. It was…
“…a bear, I think.”
Stifling a scream, Kaelin sat up abruptly to find Wulfgang at his side. Shaking off the weariness that refused to leave his body, Wulfgang added “a big one, coming from the east.”
I’m not cut out for this, Kaelin thought to himself. I should be sitting in a comfortable tavern in Heliogabalus or Trailsend, divesting pretty maidens of their dowries, or collecting protection money from bloodstone merchants. I should be working for Zorth Greistuhle or Tarkos Ree, not sitting in a mud-filled pit in the ass-end of nowhere. What in Mask’s name am I doing here?
Knowing the group would not survive a direct attack from a bear, Kaelin reached into the saddle bags, and brought out four flasks of oil, the flint and steel and two candles that the group had stowed. Pouring two in front of him, he handed the candles to Rolf and told him to light them. The bear appeared at the top of the bowl, a huge specimen, perhaps 9 feet in length, growling menacingly. Stuffing rags into the two remaining flasks of oil, Kaelin instructed Rolf to light the oil on the ground. A line of smoky fire ten feet in length began to burn, interposed between the bear and Kaelin’s group. Undaunted by the fire, the bear charged, while Kaelin desperately tried to light the fuses. The boy frantically tried to control the panicked packhorse, but was dragged away from the combat when the horse bolted. As Waldo flanked the bear to the left, he stabbed at the huge animal, scoring a hit but doing little harm to the bear. It turned its full attention to the brave farmer, and with two swipes of its claws tore the unfortunate farmer into tatters.
Seeing one of his companions torn to shreds, Rolf began to flee as well, heading for a tree that he hoped to climb. Kaelin succeeded in lighting Wulfgang’s improvised weapon, and he hurled it at the bear. The flask landed to the right of the bear, splashing it with burning oil, but again the bear seemed unfazed by the attack.
I can’t believe I’m going to die as a bear’s dinner, Kaelin thought sadly. He hoisted the flask above his shoulder, ready to toss his missile at his killer, but the bear struck first, swiping visciously with his claws. Kaelin felt a brief moment of searing pain across his midsection, and then saw no more. His last thought was: For the last time, I prefer the term ‘diplomat…’
Wulfgang sat as high in the tree as he dared, and watched the bear drag Kaelin’s body over the crest of the rise and out of sight. The boy and the packhorse had fled, and were gone from sight. Rolf sat in a nearby tree, but neither of their perches would be high enough to avoid the bear if it decided to return. They waited an hour, and then another, but saw no further sign of the bear. The moon crawled out from behind the clouds, casting dim shadows across the landscape.
On the verge of tears, Rolf whispered to Wulfgang, “What are we going to do? We have no food, no protection, and no guide. How are we going to survive?”
Wulfgang had no answer for him. His only hope lay with his son, whom he hoped would find him faster than his enemies did.
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"Suffering is the touchstone of all spiritual growth."
-St. Sollars the Twice-Martyred |
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Brother Ezra
Learned Scribe
USA
268 Posts |
Posted - 22 Jan 2005 : 17:21:02
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Fallon’s Tale , by Jaime McLeod (a.k.a. Fallon uth Pendemyr)
The morning after the group’s arrival in Heliogabalus, Fallon, red-eyed from a sleepless night of worry over the whereabouts of her lost friend, gathered her companions together. Before Kaelin’s disappearance, the group had discussed taking some time apart for personal training, study and travel. Berthold had wanted some time to help his parents settle into their new lives in the capitol city. Jonrek, concerned about the growing aggressiveness of the cult of Orcus, wanted to learn more about the enemy. Fallon finally felt ready to seek out the animal companion that was the right of Mielikki’s proven followers.
In light of the young diplomat’s loss, though, Fallon urged her friends to remain together until the mystery of Kaelin’s failure to arrive in Merkurn could be solved. She told them she could never in good conscience search for an animal companion when one of her human companions was lost and likely in trouble. With the exception of Ashe, who remained unusually silent, all heartily agreed with the ranger’s speech. Fallon spent the next few days conferring with Nesselbryl, the commercial mage, about possible spells that could help locate her friend. She also learned of a divination specialist residing in Trailsend. The diviner, Beldegar Vithalan had devised a number of original spells in his field. If anyone would be able to locate Kaelin, he could.
Far from being angry when Ashe approached the group with the news of her meeting with Feriblan and her imposed quest, Fallon was elated. She told the druid she would not force herself into a quest where she was not wanted, but wanted to help in the quest to find Kaelin. The next morning, after the group read Ashe’s note, and Berthold had announced his intention to follow, Fallon sighed and dropped her eyes to the ground.
"I'll not go,” she said with more regret than her friends could likely detect.
“I told Ashe the decision was hers to make, and she has made it. I must respect that and trust that she knows what she is doing. Do not mistake me, Berthold. I understand your decision, as well. Of course you must go after your father. The call of blood on the heart cannot be denied.
"Still, I do not believe Ashe's course is my own. The druid is correct. Soravia has a way of swallowing those beloved to us—and Kaelin is as beloved to me as any ranger I have ever drawn my bow beside. I do not abandon the quest, however.
“I think I can aid the search in another way. I want to go back to Rawlinswood and to rally the rangers there. I believe the Soravian Talebringers may be planning some action against the forces occupying the Star of Infelice. An alliance with my own order may embolden the northern rangers to action. Perhaps they can even convince the defenders of Merkurn to join us. They defend a ghost town, and their purpose would be better served working to cleanse the barony of the disease that plagues them. The monsters there are disorganized, and if what we saw in Hinterford holds true elsewhere, comprised mostly of weak goblins. I believe an organized force of warriors, even if it were a comparatively small one, could crush the occupation and free your homeland. In doing so, it would turn eyes inward, away from Ashe, and hopefully from Kaelin and your father, as well.
"May your god speed you along your way, and any among us who choose to follow."
Of the remaining companions, only Caeg decided to accompany the fighter on his journey, and Fallon considered taking back her words and going with her two brave friends. Only her earlier promise to Ashe, that she would not join in a quest where she was not wanted, restrained her. She had given the druid her word, and Fallon’s word to her friends was gold. Torn in two by warring impulses, the young ranger bid Caeg and Berthold farewell. She prayed to her goddess to keep them, and Ashe, safe, and hoped with all of her might that Kaelin was still alive somewhere and would be found.
Once she was alone, Fallon wasted no time in setting out for Rawlinswood, her home for more than half of her life. She hadn’t seen any of her adoptive family – the band of rangers known as Gwaeron’s Gallants – since the loss of her mentor, Ulric, during a battle with orcs in the Galena Mountains the previous summer. She wasn’t certain she was ready to confront her loss, but she had to try to help the enslaved people of Soravia, and she knew of only one army powerful enough to help her.
Fallon went immediately to the ferry station at the city’s edge, hoping to be in Trailsend by nightfall, but found she had just missed the only ferry of the day. Anxious to be on her way, she rode hard out of Heliogabalus, not stopping until she had reached the city of Praka around nightfall. Fallon took her dinner and rest in a small inn, brooding quietly and interacting with no one. Across the narrow inlet of Lake Mogador, the half-elf could see the lights of Trailsend, the city that had been her home for several months. The sight of it, for the first time since she set out with her companions at the beginning of Tarsakh, made her think of Corian. Though Fallon hadn’t particularly liked the naïve and dishonest sorceress, the girl’s death was one more heavy weight of loss on her heart.
In the morning, the ranger took the short ferry ride from Praka to Trailsend. Thinking again of Corian, she realized she had a duty concerning the girl’s parents. Shortly after her arrival in town, Fallon ducked into a cooper’s shop along the road and purchased a ring of wood. Finding a young evergreen, she fashioned a wreath from some of its boughs, then added some wildflowers from a nearby field. It wasn’t a particularly fancy funeral wreath, but it would have to do. Steeling her resolve, the ranger made for the part of town where Corian’s father ran his tannery. The smell of curing leather greeted her before the shop was even in sight. When she walked in the door, Kai Tanner smiled warmly and asked Fallon how he could help her. He didn’t seem to recognize the half-elf from their brief meeting more than two months earlier.
“I bring news of your daughter. Is there someone who can watch your shop for you?”
“My daughter? Is Corian all right? What news do you have?” Kai asked, his face growing ashen.
“I think it best we speak in private, sir,” Fallon replied.
“If it’s news of my daughter I want to know now. Tell me here,” demanded the tanner, growing agitated.
Fallon clenched her jaw. She had known this would not be easy.
“Very well,” she relented, “is your wife about? She’ll need to hear this as well.”
Kai called upstairs to his wife, who descended with a confused, but pleasant expression. Her curiosity changed to worry when her husband told her Fallon was there to give them some news about Corian. The woman looked down at the wreath in the stranger’s hand with horrified recognition. Silent tears began to well in her eyes. It took all of Fallon’s strength of will to look the unfortunate couple in the eyes as she told them about Corian’s final moments. She explained that the group had encountered more enemies than expected and that their daughter had been taken down in a single blow before any of the others could get to her. She expressed her regret at the family’s loss and asked if there was anything she could do for them.
The old tanner looked as if the life had been drained right out of him. He tried vainly to comfort his now hysterical wife, then turned to Fallon coldly and said, “There’s nothing you can do. I think it’s best that you leave.”
Fallon bowed respectfully, leaning her wreath against the doorframe, and turned to leave. Her unpleasant obligation took up much of the morning, but the better part of the day still remained. Fallon rode out of Trailsend and made decent headway toward Rawlinswood before stopping to rest for the night. She hid her horse, Khadra, behind some tall bushes, and found a tree with nice, sturdy limbs to sleep in for the night. Her slumber was undisturbed, and in the morning the ranger made for Tellerth, the small logging town at the forest’s edge. At around midday, Fallon arrived at the Sprouting Acorn, the inn owned by Anastasia Beaverhausen, an acquaintance of Fallon’s from the time she was a child.
A coarse but kindly woman, Anastasia swept the slight half-elf into a crushing hug upon seeing her. While Fallon waited for her dinner to arrive, the older woman filled her ears with much gossip. From the innkeeper, the ranger learned that many of the towns in Polten had sought annexation from Impiltur, Damara’s southern neighbor and a rigid theocracy. She also learned that Impiltur was boycotting trade with any Damaran provinces that did not support Gareth Dragonsbane’s claim to the throne. Fallon expressed her distaste for such political maneuvering, but admitted all she had heard of Dragonsbane made him out to be an honorable and brave man—two traits she could not criticize, particularly in light of his defeat of the Witch-King. Anastasia also told Fallon of troubles brewing in Thesk with raids by clans of barbarians from the Great Waste. Despite the bleak news, Fallon supped heartily that night and slept well for the first time in weeks.
In the morning, she continued her journey, growing ever closer to the lodge of her order. It felt good to be home again, surrounded by the trees and woodland sounds she knew so well. When the lodge came into sight, Fallon spied Bors Ironhand, one of her fellow rangers, contentedly smoking a pipe on the doorstep. Bors had joined the Gallants a few years earlier after leaving the Daleport town militia. His curious surname was a reference to the man’s disfigured left hand. He had been burned with molten iron by a cruel blacksmith to whom he was apprenticed as a boy. Fallon hailed him and they had a pleasant conversation about Bors’ recent marriage to Gwen Redfield, another member of the Gallants. After a few moments of small talk, Fallon asked if Harland Willowhand—a cleric of Mielikki and the spiritual leader, along with his wife Narien, of the order—was about. Bors told her he was inside, and bid the younger ranger a good day.
Entering the lodge, Fallon found the old cleric—Harland was well past four-score years, but had maintained the strength of a bear—staring contemplatively into a roaring fire. The hearth was just as she had remembered it, with the scimitar of Rillian Starbow, the order’s founder, adorning the mantle. Harland’s eyes rose when he heard Fallon approach, and his expression changed to one of surprise, then joy, as he recognized his unexpected visitor. He rose from his sturdy oak armchair with only a slight bit of help from his gnarled staff and wrapped the young girl he had helped raise like a granddaughter in a warm embrace. The pair sat and Fallon told Harland of her adventures since her parting with the order the previous autumn. She told him of her new friends and of the far and wide sights she had seen. The old cleric asked many questions about Fallon’s impressions of Heliogabalus and Soravia. Fallon spoke with disdain about the self-serving arrogance of some city-dwellers, like Feriblan the wizard, and sadly of the evil that infested beautiful Soravia. At that point, Fallon realized uncomfortably that she had broached the reason for her return to Rawlinswod.
Fallon told Harland of the enslavement of the Star of Infelice and of her friends’ attempts to infiltrate Berthold’s hometown. She mentioned her brief encounter with the Soravian Talebringers and told the old cleric of her desire to unite the two ranger bands in an effort to cleanse the north of the remnants of Zhenghi’s army. She spoke with conviction of her belief that the chaotic forces there could be easily routed in a series of well-planned attacks and plead with her “grandfather” to muster the Gallants for the ride north.
When Fallon had finished, Harland regarded her with a proud, but melancholy expression. He explained that the Gallants were not without troubles of their own. The order had seen some conflict with the Nentyarch, a mysterious being who lived in the center of the wood. For years, the Nentyarch, who many believed to be a legend used to scare children into behaving, had lived in relative peace with his neighbors, the rangers and druids at the forest’s northwestern edge. In recent weeks, though, rangers who strayed too close to his territory had begun to disappear. Two of the Gallants—Barth Emrys and Melwyn Harkner—had both been lost, and others were out searching for some sign of them. This new trouble only compounded the band’s problems. For years, there had been tension between the order and the followers of the Beastlord Malar, a dark nature deity who advocated the practice of cannibalism. For many years, the beastmen had made active war on the rangers, and vice versa.
Not to leave his idealistic young protégé without hope, Harland assured Fallon that the Talebringers were a large and capable band. He went on to tell her that he had heard the Talebringers’ leader, Marco Wildfeet, had forged an alliance with the Soravian militia under the command of Gareth Dragonsbane’s companion Olwen Forest-Friend, a ranger and the figurehead baron of Soravia. The alliance was likely already well on its way toward accomplishing the task Fallon so wanted to achieve. Harland then tried to change the subject, noting that Fallon seemed much more formidable than when she had left and suggesting that she might be ready to undergo the rites that would make her a senior member of the order—the search for her animal companion and the solitary ceremony that would imbue her with the ability to cast divine spells.
Though that news would have normally been elating to the young ranger, Fallon was unable to wrest the images of the suffering people of Soravia from her mind. She was also second-guessing her decision to return home when she could be helping Caeg and Berthold to find Ashe and Kaelin. Harland sensed her turmoil and asked if there was anything he cold do. Fallon confessed she was sick with worry over her friends, particularly Kaelin, and would not find peace until she knew of they were safe. The old cleric gave an understanding nod and told her he would consult with the goddess for answers to her fears. Fallon gave Harland a grateful hug and left him. She spent the rest of the day catching up with several of the other rangers, including Harland’s wife Narien, who was tending her herb garden when the half-elf arrived. That evening those members of the order who were in attendance at the lodge held a magnificent feast to celebrate Fallon’s return. She hadn’t the heart to tell any of them that she wasn’t planning to stay.
In the morning, Harland found Fallon sitting in Narien’s garden, watching the songbirds.
“I have communed with the goddess,” he said quietly.
Fallon raised her eyes hopefully, “And?”
Harland sighed heavily, “Kaelin Drache lives no longer.”
The news hit Fallon like punch from an ogre. A painful lump formed in her throat. It was several moments before she could speak again.
“And Ashe?”
Harland’s expression lightened, for he knew Ashe—her father, Jasper, was a member of the Gallants—and was equally concerned for the young druid.
“Ashe lives still.”
Fallon remained silent, lost in sorrowful reverie, until Harland spoke again.
“Mielikki has also revealed to me that you are ready.”
Fallon nodded, “I will go, but I need time.”
Harland bowed his understanding and walked quietly away, leaving the half-elf alone with her thoughts. She sat remembering a discussion she’d had with Kaelin the night of his escape from Hinterford. Fallon believed her friend had acted heroically, despite the bitter outcome, while the diplomat, himself, expressed disgust at his actions. Ever cynical, Kaelin couldn’t believe he had thrust himself into such a dangerous situation with no hope for personal gain. He also spoke to Fallon of his worries regarding the contents of the Greymantle Letters. Fallon, too, had worried that the letters might fall into the wrong hands, and had told him as much on their wet journey north. She had been relieved to learn her opportunistic companion was in agreement with her concerns. She believed the conversation to be the beginning of a strong bond between the party’s two most mistrustful members. Despite her gruff exterior, the ranger really had come to care for the rogue—for she knew, in truth, that’s what he was—and for all of her companions, even the half-orc, who she had to admit had ever acted with the only highest degree of honor.
Fallon spent two days reconciling herself to Kaelin’s loss. At the end of her mourning period, she approached Harland to inform him she was ready. The old cleric explained to her what she must do; she was to go deep into the forest, bearing nothing more than she could easily carry, to find a place for meditation. There, she would spend as long as she needed in adoration of the goddess until Mielikki revealed her path. Fallon set out that very morning, wandering into sections of the forest she remembered scouting with Ulric, her adopted father.
At around mid morning, while she was still walking, the ranger began to hear nearby sounds, as if she were being tracked. She slowed her pace and readied her bow, cautiously listening for her pursuer’s approach. She didn’t have to wait long. In seconds, a hideous beast, resembling a cross between a wolf and a cat, with bare, wrinkled skin on its face, pounced at her. Fallon shot it once before drawing her sword as it closed in, and the battle was over quickly. The strange creature, which Fallon later learned was called a krenshar, had bitten her, but not too badly. Her capable sword work finished off what her arrow had started. Binding up her wound with a scrap of cloth torn from her cloak, the ranger pressed on.
She soon found a suitable grove for her purposes and set up camp for the night, catching a tender coney for her dinner. As she had on the road, Fallon slept in the arms of a strong old tree. When she woke, she began her meditation. Several hours into her prayers, Fallon was disturbed by the sound of high-pitched laughter, punctuated by the pained squealing of some type of animal. Fallon rose and grabbed her bow, moving toward the sounds. A few hundred yards away, she saw a cliff face. In front of it was a group of about five goblins taunting and spearing something that looked to be a wolf. Her jaw set in anger and contempt, the ranger fired off two shots, the first hitting, but not killing, one of the goblins. She then unsheathed her sword and began closing in the distance between herself and the goblins. Two broke away from the larger group to intercept her, but she calmly strode past them. The goblins each made a swipe at the ranger with their spears, but both missed badly.
With no concern for herself, Fallon marched right past the snapping and frightened wolf, which lunged angrily at her, but also missed. She had dispatched the remaining three goblins with little effort, and watched noncommittally as the other two ran away, blowing their infernal horns. She then knelt to examine the wolf’s wounds, convinced Mielikki had led her to her intended companion. The wolf, still frightened from its ordeal, however, snapped at her once again. Fallon backed away from the creature and held out her hands in a non-threatening way. The wolf continued to growl at her, its teeth bared and its hackles raised in agitation. Fallon dropped to one knee and began speaking to the wolf in a soothing voice, telling it to be calm. The wolf backed slowly away from Fallon, but regarded her curiously. After several more minutes, the creature finally calmed enough to allow Fallon to approach. She cleaned and bound its wounds, but had no time for pleasantries, as the sound of goblin horns sounded from not far away.
Knowing that her new companion was badly wounded and could not take more damage, she entreated the wolf to follow her, and the pair ran as fast as their legs would carry them. At nightfall, Fallon found another suitable clearing and caught a small deer for herself and the wolf, who feasted hungrily on the raw carcass while the ranger cooked her own portion. In the morning they continued their journey to the Gallants’ lodge, but were ambushed around midmorning by a group of four hobgoblins. Fallon and her wolf fended off the attackers with ease, and Fallon took only a small wound for her efforts.
Back at the lodge, Fallon and the wolf were greeted by a beaming Harland, proud of his able and devout young disciple. The cleric spent several days training Fallon on the intricacies of divine spell casting. What other time remained to her, she used for training the wolf. As she progressed in spell casting ability, she used a speak with animals spell to commune with the creature and learn his name: Erreth.
With Midsummer Night—a high holiday among the worshippers of nature deities—quickly approaching, Fallon decided to remain in Rawlinswood for the festivities. The rangers traditionally celebrated alongside the Tellerth druids—Ashe’s coven. Fallon had expected to see Ashe’s mother at the festival, but nothing could have prepared her for the sight that greeted her when she entered the druid’s grove. Ashe herself was there, enjoying a warm reunion with her parents. Fallon ran to the druid, embracing her friend. Ashe had little time, amidst her many reunions, to tell the full tale of her travels, but she did tell Fallon that both Caeg and Berthold were safe, and of the circumstances of Kaelin’s death. She told the ranger she had returned to Rawlinswood to bury their friend’s bones. When Fallon introduced the druid to Erreth, her new wolf companion, Ashe burst into tears, and the ranger noticed, for the first time, that Shadow was not with her.
Knowing Ashe would have plenty of time to recount her tale on the long road back to Heliogabalus, Fallon left her friend to take part in the portion of the festival that interested her the most: the Wild Ride. Every year on Midsummer Night, Mielikki sent flocks of unicorns to gatherings of her faithful to bear them on incredible journeys. On years when Shieldmeet followed Midsummer—as it did this year—the ride was extended into that day. Fallon, only recently a full member of her order, had never experienced a Wild Ride before. For two nights and a day, Fallon clung to the silvery back of her mount, teleporting magically to every gorgeous corner of Rawlinswood. It was a deeply religious experience for the half-elf, and one she vowed she would never forget.
By the time Fallon returned from her ride, Ashe had undergone the druidic rites for calling a new companion and was ready to return to their friends. Though she had enjoyed her homecoming, Fallon was ready to go too. The pair set out the day after Shieldmeet. On the return journey to Heliogabalus, Fallon asked Ashe to take her to Kaelin’s final resting place.
When they arrived at the small burial mound, Fallon said she would like a few moments alone. The ranger stood quietly for several moments looking at the freshly upturned earth with a pained expression. When she finally spoke, her words came out soft and quivering, a stark contrast to her typical confident, almost arrogant, demeanor.
“Kaelin, I don’t think you ever knew dearly I held you, and now I suppose you never will. How bitterly ironic that we believed our path to be the more dangerous, yet it was you who perished taking what seemed to be the safer road.
“Whatever it is you told yourself in those moments before drawing your last breath, know this; you were and are one of the most daring, stouthearted men I have had the pleasure of knowing. You would undoubtedly call some of your more shining moments folly—softheaded decisions rashly made—but I know the truth. You had a spirit for adventure that I will ever admire. For the rest of my days, whenever tales of great deeds are recounted, I will tell of Kaelin the brave.”
This last sentence snagged in the half-elf’s throat. Tears began to fill her almond eyes. She realized, ruefully, that if Kaelin’s spirit were indeed watching, he would likely be amused at the sight of the usually stern ranger sobbing like a young war widow. After taking a moment to compose herself, Fallon continued.
“I hope you like the spot Ashe chose for you. I know it’s not exactly the kind of place you would normally choose to spend your time, but it’s peaceful and is, in my admittedly biased opinion, located in one of the more beautiful corners of at least our small portion of Faerun, if not all Toril. These woods are home to many good and valiant men and women. You should fit in well here, though you may deny it.”
After a few more moments of quiet reflection, Fallon pulled a single wildflower from her belt and tossed it gently onto her companion’s grave.
“Farewell, friend. Be at peace.”
After Ashe and Fallon had finished the heartbreaking task of burying their friends, Ashe knelt over the grave of Kaelin and the memorial of Shadow and began to pray…
“They came when they were called; they asked for little and received less. They fought for honor and sense of duty, in a world in which there was precious little. We have been made better for their sacrifice and yet we are made poorer by their passing. Ultimately in spite of their lost lives, we must recognize that the greatest loss lies with us; for we have been stripped of their lives and their gifts. Stripped of all the children they will never father, of the truth they will never uncover, of the dreams they had that no mortal will ever know, of the best of humanity and wolf that they can never again be.
“We cannot remember them as well as we should, we will never remember them as well as we do now. But they died in our stead, and if there is one thing we should know, one thing we must take from this desolate moment; it is that they could have been us. We must live for them. We must try to achieve the promise that was embodied in their lives, before they were so nobly taken for our sake. This is the only way we can shoulder this otherwise unbearable debt.
“By their selfless sacrifice they have shown that this is how they would have had it, had they by some accident of fate been left as the living and not we.
“Silvanus, please watch over my two friends during their final adventure. They are worthy of so much more than what I’m able to do for them. They are heroes in my heart and forever shall be missed.”
“Ah, Shadow, I hope you have rabbits aplenty to chase after in the afterlife. You’ll forever be my most treasured companion.”
“Kaelin, I hope you find peace and contentment in this place. It has long been my most treasured spot near home.”
“Goodbye my dearest friends…”
Ashe rose, wiped the tears from her face, and began to walk back to her home and her mother’s comforting arms; forlorn, lost, and feeling alone for the first time since she left home those many months ago.
Fallon took a cleansing breath, drawing up her faltering will to go on in the face of yet another deep loss, then turned and walked toward where she could see Ashe, playing with her new dire bat companion, in the distance.
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"Suffering is the touchstone of all spiritual growth."
-St. Sollars the Twice-Martyred |
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Brother Ezra
Learned Scribe
USA
268 Posts |
Posted - 23 Jan 2005 : 13:39:02
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Once everyone arrived back at the White Horse Inn in Heliogabalus, and spent some time getting to know Ashe’s mysterious traveling companion, Gunther, a dwarven wizard from the Earthfast Mountains. Gunther was warmly welcomed to travel with the group, not least because they had been without the benefit of the arcane arts ever since Corian’s tragic passing several months earlier.
One day, after a few short weeks of relaxation for some, hard training for others and harder drinking for the rest, Jonrek, who had been studying under the guidance of more powerful Tyrran clerics, assembled his friends. He told them he had agreed to undertake a quest for his church. After making it clear that he’d understand if any in the group refused to accompany him, the half-elven cleric expressed his earnest desire for their help. The companions agreed to accompany their friend to the House of Righteous Rule to speak with Chief Justice Merton Pebble about the matter.
The group listened skeptically as the stern old cleric described the nature of the assignment Jonrek had agreed to undertake. According to Pebble, the church had sent out a group of powerful clerics and paladins a month earlier to reclaim an abandoned tomb site in the Stormhaven Hills, a day and a half’s ride north of Heliogabalus. The tombs, which were once jointly overseen by clerics both the Tyrran and Tormish faiths, had been abandoned during Zhengyi’s reign for fear of raids. Once Gareth Dragonsbane had defeated the Witch King, the Church of Tyr deemed the area safe enough to recoup.
After several weeks with no word from the surveyors, Pebble and his colleagues began to grow worried. Then, a few days earlier, Gerhardt Kuska, the cleric who had led the expedition, was found, raving mad, wandering the slums of Heliogabalus. The insane cleric was taken back to the House of Righteous Rule and placed in the care of his brethren by a kind townsperson who recognized him. Though the other clerics were wary of worsening Kuska’s condition, they were also deeply concerned about the outcome of his mission. Gently, they began to question him, but were met with a series of cryptic statements, which served only to intensify their confusion. Gerhardt spoke of “death without end” from a “well of bones.”
From the traumatized man’s statements, the other clerics were finally able to piece together enough to establish that the tombs had been desecrated and the mission had taken a disastrous turn. The members of the exploring party were overtaken with madness and had begun to attack one another. Gerhardt—who, as far as the questioning clerics could ascertain, was the only survivor—clearly blamed himself for the incident, though he would not say why. When asked what, exactly, the group had encountered, the traumatized cleric would only repeat the word “abomination” over and over again.
Because most of the order’s strongest clerics and paladins were lost on the initial journey, the church could no longer spare anyone to make another trek to the tombs and try to determine what happened. That, explained Chief Justice Pebble, is where Jonrek and the companions could be of assistance. Jonrek, it turned out, had agreed to travel to the tombs to learn what evil lay there and, if possible, destroy it. Though the companions were not enthusiastic about experiencing the horrors that had seemingly killed several seasoned clerics and paladins, they were also unwilling to abandon their friend, who they knew would follow them into equally daunting exploits. Their resolve was further strengthened when the Chief Justice promised to petition the city’s merchant’s guild for a 2,500 taler reward for the party’s bravery, should they agree to undertake the expedition. Pebble also agreed to provide the group with a number of healing potions to help them survive the horrors that likely awaited them.
When they agreed to the terms, the group spent some time learning about the history and layout of the tombs. They learned that, in addition to the tombs, the site was home to two shrines, one for each patron god of the burial grounds. Also, the former keeper of the tombs, Holy Justice Azarath, had found something beneath the tombs, but had mysteriously disappeared before he could make the nature of his discovery known to others. The adventurers mulled over all they had learned about the tombs while they prepared themselves to depart for the Stormhaven Hills.
Beset with wanderlust following their weeks of shelter in Heliogabalus, the group set out the following morning. Before leaving, they decided to purchase a wand of Cure Light Wounds, as extra insurance against the dangers that lay ahead. The road was clear that day, and the group spent the night in Kinbrace, capital of the Duchy of Soravia, a small town a day’s ride from the capital city. In the common room of The Gray Goat Inn, the companions ate a rich supper of pub food. As the evening progressed, Gunther challenged Hiro to a drinking contest, which Caeg and Berthold also joined. After only six drinks, the brash dwarf was the first to lose consciousness. After several more drinks, he was joined first by Berthold and eventually Hiro, leaving Caeg swaying about, muttering to himself in his unintelligible brogue. Ashe, Jonrek and Fallon spent the evening talking quietly in the corner, pretending to ignore their rowdy friends’ game.
In the morning, the group again set out, much to the protests of the groggy, hung-over foursome. They arrived at the beginning of the Stormhaven Hills around midday and began to explore the area. Shortly after the crossed a pair of obelisks that marked the entrance to their destination, the twin shrines to Tyr and Torm lay in their path, just as Chief Justice Pebble had described to them. As they approached the first temple, they noticed that the white marble walls and columns of the structure had been charred black in places.
They entered the temple, Fallon holding aloft Berthold’s lantern, and saw that the inside walls had been defiled with several strange sigils—very similar to the ones they had seen in the temple of Ilmater in Eralion’s keep months earlier—scrawled in some unidentified brownish-black substance. Toward the rear of the structure stood a massive, headless statue of the god Torm. The severed head of the sculpture lay crumbling at the god’s feet. Hiro approached the stone figure, but as the half-orc got closer, a bolt of black energy shot out at him, sending a painful jolt through his body. Curious, Gunther cast a detect magic spell and found that not only did the statue give off a faint magical aura, but two points, one on each side of the room, did as well.
Anxious to see what lay in the other temple, the companions filed out and explored the other shrine. The exterior, right down to the black scorch marks, was identical to its counterpart. Inside, as well, the scene was very much the same. The walls of the spartan structure were littered with symbols that Jonrek suspected had been place by followers of Orcus. A statue of Tyr, just like the one of Torm they had just seen, was similarly beheaded, and was also missing an arm. Gunther’s detect magic spell, still in effect, found magical emanations in exactly the same places as in the other temple. Scanning the room, Jonrek’s keen half-elven eyes paused on what looked to be an inscription at the base of the statue. Though they squinted and strained for several minutes, none of the party could read what it said. Impatient, Gunther strode boldly up to the sculpture, taking a energy bolt between the eyes for his troubles. After smoothing down his disheveled beard, the dwarf read the inscription aloud.
“As you obey the commands of Tyr, so this figure obeys your COMMAND.”
Puzzling over what the statement could mean, the group began to set up camp for the night. Fallon and Caeg went off into the surrounding woods to hunt some game for dinner, while several of the others attempted to wipe the unholy graffiti from the temple walls. After a satisfying meal, the party settled down for the night, placing themselves between the two temples in order to remain hidden from the view of the path.
Shortly into the first watch, Berthold and Gunther detected a group approaching the shrines from the east. Waking the rest of the group, they spied a group of torch-bearing humans, about eight in number, heading towards the shrines with purpose. In tow were about half a dozen skeletons, giving away the human's allegiance. The party waited until the group had entered the shrine to Tyr, and then moved into position to attack. Caeg and Hiro circled around the back of the shrine to come at the entrance from the opposite direction, while the rest of the group approached from the nearest side, hoping to catch their opponents in a flanking maneuver. However, as soon as the group became visible, the skeletons, which remained outside the entrance to the shrine, immediately spotted them and moved in to engage. The humans inside the shrine moved into attack positions as well, and began to cast spells identifying them as clerics. Once visible to the party, the insignia on their vestments betrayed them as priests of the demon god Orcus.
The main body of the party engaged in combat with the skeletons, while Caeg fired arrows at the emerging clerics from the opposite side of the shrine. Hiro, in typical barbarian fashion, charged towards the clerics with abandon, quickly entering his signature-enraged state. These were no mere orcs or goblins that Hiro faced, however, and the hulking half-orc quickly found himself surrounded and outnumbered. He succeeded in dropping one of the clerics with a blow from his great axe, but suffered a particularly nasty blow from a cleric's mace, in addition to several minor injuries.
The rest of the group found that the skeletons they faced were no mere undead conjuration. Their ability to withstand damage seemed much greater than a normal skeleton, and their eye sockets glowed with a feral incarnadine illumination unusual for their kind. Due to their bony nature, the damage done by the group, wielding mostly slashing weapons, was only of limited effectiveness, and the various animal companions were virtually useless in damaging the undead creatures. The rest of the party saw that Hiro had become surrounded, but were unable to vanquish the skeletons quickly in order to assist him.
Bleeding from multiple wounds, Hiro was struck by another vicious blow from a cleric's mace, and the mighty barbarian collapsed to the ground under the weight of the blow, just as the skeletons were finally defeated. The rest of the group rushed to his aid, but in the chaos of battle, it took Caeg several moments to carefully navigate his way next to his fallen comrade. Touching the Wand of Curing to Hiro's back, Caeg whispered into his ear, telling the prone barbarian to stay on the ground, lest he incur attacks that might wound him further. The mighty half-orc remained motionless, presumably heeding Caeg’s suggestion.
The battle in front of the Tyrran shrine was furious, and clogged with combatants on both sides, making maneuvers particularly difficult, and ranged attacks extremely risky. Suspecting that the main cleric might still be inside the shrine, Ashe cast a quick Spider Climb spell, and scuttled onto the exterior wall of the shrine, skirting around the main conflict at the entrance, and entering the interior of the shrine. Before she could react further, the leader of the Orcus priests cast a spell on her, immobilizing her 15 feet above the shrine floor, still moored to the wall by her spell.
Simultaneously, the logjam of bodies standing at the entrance to the shrine broke as another cleric of Orcus fell to the party’s onslaught. The balance of the party charged through the opening to engage the leader of their enemies. Caeg noticed that Hiro had still not risen, even though no further adversaries surrounded him. Fearing the worst, Caeg knelt down and touched his hand to Hiro’s neck, silently praying to find a pulse.
Facing the combined strength of the party, the evil chief priest fell quickly; the animals in the party’s care found a much meatier target in the cleric, and the combined attacks of human, dwarf, half-elf, bat and wolf took him out in a matter of seconds. Before any victory could be celebrated, Caeg entered the shrine, shoulders slumped, his face downcast. Hiro Var of Narfell, their companion since the beginning of their journeys together, was dead.
A quick search of the cleric’s bodies revealed several magical maces and one magical morningstar, which the party collected in numb silence. Each of the group that knew Hiro well recognized that the beliefs of the Nar tribesmen prohibited resurrection or burial. A funeral pyre was the normal method of disposing of their deceased, although no one wanted to be the first to admit that Hiro was lost. Their watch was resumed, but few slept well that night.
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"Suffering is the touchstone of all spiritual growth."
-St. Sollars the Twice-Martyred |
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Brother Ezra
Learned Scribe
USA
268 Posts |
Posted - 24 Jan 2005 : 14:12:48
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Once the adventurers had successfully defeated the clerics of Orcus and their undead sentries, they turned their attention to the one cleric they had left alive.
Berthold and Gunther tied up the still unconscious man and stuffed a soiled rag into his mouth before using their healing wand to revive him for questioning. The warrior explained tersely that he would remove the cleric’s gag, so long as he did not attempt to cast any spells. As soon as the rag was removed, the man promptly spit in Berthold’s face, then stretched his neck out, waiting for a killing blow. When none came, the man demanded to be killed.
Berthold kicked the man hard in the face and told him to shut up.
“What is your name,” asked the surly fighter.
“My name is none of your business,” answered the dark cleric.
Berthold responded with another sharp kick, this time to the ribs.
“What is your name?”
The man began laughing hysterically. “Kill me,” he said, “I’m not afraid. My lord is the god of the undead, you know.”
“Your god can’t bring you back if we burn you and scatter your bones,” retorted Gunther in his thick dwarven accent.
The cleric’s maniacal laughing continued. “Oh, can’t he? We’ll see about that.”
The laughing and taunting did not cease when Ashe placed a foot firmly upon the man’s groin, though another sharp kick from Berthold silenced the man for a while, as he began to cough and choke on his own blood.
“I can’t breathe,” gasped the cleric as a bubble of blood burst from his mouth.
Berthold and Gunther roughly hauled him to his knees to allow his breathing to come more easily.
As the questioning continued, with the cleric refusing to reveal anything, no matter how badly he was battered, Berthold began to grow more and more frustrated.
“That’s it,” the fighter spat, “I’m going to cut off his ears.”
As he raised his sword to make good on the threat, Berthold’s hand was stayed by the surprisingly strong grip of Jonrek.
“I can’t allow this,” the half-elf stated firmly, his eyes making clear that the issue was not up for discussion. “The use of rough tactics is one thing, but torture is another.”
Berthold looked at his companion, dumbstruck. To his mind the distinction was a blurry one, and he said as much to the Tyrran cleric. Jonrek stood his ground, however. Punching, kicking and threatening were fine, but inflicting irreparable bodily harm was not.
“We’re just going to kill him anyway,” Berthold retorted.
“And he deserves death for his crimes, but his death will be swift and merciful,” maintained the cleric.
Throwing up his hands, Berthold reluctantly agreed to abide by Jonrek’s restrictions; this was Jonrek’s quest, after all.
After a long period of interrogation, the cleric finally gave them a name. “Feldrin,” he said with a deadly serious expression. Fallon, who had removed herself from the interrogation process, turned her head at the name.
“He’s lying,” she said, recalling the name of the bygone Damaran king. “You’ve been at this for hours. He isn’t going to tell us anything. Just kill him.”
Realizing the ranger was probably right, Berthold and Gunter shrugged resignedly. The dwarf began to raise his axe to behead the smug cleric, when Jonrek again stepped in.
“Just a moment. We have to do this correctly,” he snapped.
The half-elven cleric then addressed his evil counterpart.
“You have been found guilty of the crime of desecrating the shrines of the gods Tyr and Torm. The penalty is death, to be swiftly imputed. Will you repent of your evil ways before that sentence is carried out?”
The cleric of Orcus only laughed.
“Very well, then,” Jonrek said, nodding grimly at the dwarf. Gunther raised his axe, cleanly slicing through the cleric’s neck. Afterward, the man’s body was carried to the pile to join his slain colleagues.
In the morning, the companions lit the mound of their enemies aflame and scattered their bones, before attending to the final preparations for their fallen comrade. Remembering that the barbarian had mentioned in passing that his people do not believe in resurrecting the dead, the companions opted to construct a pyre and send Hiro to the afterlife in a blaze of glory. After placing the half-orc’s beloved battleaxe in his hands, each took a moment to say their final good-byes.
“Hiro,” began Berthold, “You were a brave warrior and a good friend. We’ll remember you always. Go now to Tempus.”
Fallon followed. “Hiro. Never has a name been a more appropriate reflection of the character of its bearer. I confess I disliked, even feared, you at first. Over the months we have traveled together, though, I have come to admire your both your courage and your a free and virtuous spirit. May your soul find its eternal home in the halls of Tempus.”
Caeg and Jonrek quietly attended to Ashe, who had begun to sob heartily at the sight of her companion laid out in eternal slumber.
Gunther, who had only known the barbarian a few days, shifted uncomfortably, then said, “He fought good, ja.” Fallon smiled at the dwarf’s supreme understatement.
“Ja,” she retorted, playfully mimicking the Gunther’s thick accent.
The friends solemnly lit the pyre and, when Hiro’s flesh was no more, they scattered his bones, that the enemy might not make of him an undead tool.
As the day wore on, the party turned their attention to the problem of how to get into the chambers beneath the shrines. On a hunch, Jonrek had prayed for a spell called command, hoping that the word “command” in the inscription at the base of the statue of Tyr referred to the spell.
The group reentered the shrine and approached the statue. Jonrek cast his spell, and then commanded the statue to “open.” As the companions watched, the statue slid backward, revealing a set of stairs leading to a room below. Cautiously, they made their way down, leaving Caeg and Ashe above to guard the entrance.
In the room below were three doors, each with a different inscription. The door to the east read “Passage comes with the blessing of Tyr.” The door to the north bore the inscription “Passage comes to those without fear.” The western door contained the phrase “Faith shall shield your passage here.”
Curious, the companions wondered if, perhaps, the statue of Torm also bore an inscription. They hadn’t noticed one the day before, but the energy which had struck Hiro had distracted them from truly studying the sculpture. One by one, they filed out of the Tyrran shrine and into its twin, to investigate.
A few steps into the room, Gunther noticed that there was, in fact, another inscription, though it wasn’t immediately readable. As he had done in the other shrine, the dwarf strode boldly up to the statue, getting struck by a bolt of black energy for his efforts. Smoothing down his beard once again, Gunther read the inscription to his companions.
“It says, ‘Speak, O warrior stouthearted and true, the triune virtues of our valorous lord’”
The dwarf scarcely finished reading the inscription when Jonrek blurted out, “That’s easy! The three virtues of the Tormish faith are duty, loyalty and obedience.”
Just as the other statue had done, the figure of Torm slid backward, revealing another set of stairs leading to a chamber beneath the shrine. The walls of the room bore four tapestries. The first depicted the god Torm with his sword upraised; the second showed Torm battling demonic-looking creatures; the third a noble-looking holy warrior slaying a dragon with a glowing sword, and the final tapestry depicted a group of questing Tormish priests.
What they found behind the tapestries was somewhat disconcerting. Just as in the other chamber, there were three doors bearing inscriptions, the south wall being the only one lacking a door. Unfortunately, the writing was in a language none of the companions understood. Dejectedly, they made their way back up to the ground level, trying to think of a plan. Quickly, Jonrek realized that he could pray for a comprehend languages spell the following day. Doing so, the group returned to the rooms beneath the Tormish shrine. Casting the needed spell, Jonrek moved aside the tapestries and read the inscriptions on each door. The door to the east read “Invoke the divine favor of our god and speak the name of the virtue that is his heart.” The northern door contained the statement “Call upon the power of our god to make your weapon as his, and speak the name of the virtue that is his sword.” The final door to the west read “Pray to our god that through your self-sacrifice you may protect others, and speak the name of the virtue that is his armor.”
Returning to the surface, the group contemplated these puzzling statements. Thinking of how they had gained access to the rooms beneath the Tyrran shrine, Berthold suggested that perhaps a specific spell must be cast in order to open the individual doors. As soon as Berthold had suggested this tactic, the solution was immediately clear to Jonrek. All of the doors required relatively simple divine spells to allow access. In the Tyrran shrine, the rhyming statements asked for three spells: “The blessing of Tyr” needed a bless spell, ‘those without fear” required the casting of a remove fear spell, and “Faith shall shield your passage here” referred to a shield of faith spell. The rooms beneath the Tormish shrine operated under the same principles, although a word had to be spoken in addition to the proper spell being cast. “Invoke the divine favor” meant to cast a divine favor spell. “Call upon the power of our god to make your weapon as his” simply required the casting of a magic weapon spell. “…through your self-sacrifice you may protect others” required the casting of a shield other spell.
Confident that they had solved the riddle of the shrines, Jonrek prayed for the needed spells the following day, and the group descended into the cellars of the respective shrines. In the Tyrran shrine, Jonrek intoned the necessary incantations, opening each of the doors in turn. Contained in each room behind the doors, the group found a cache of multiple scrolls, each containing numerous low-level divine spells, along with copious quantities of what they believed to be holy water. Turning to the shrine of Torm, Jonrek cast a divine favor spell on the eastern door, and spoke the word “Duty”, the heart of Tormish faith. On the northern door, he cast magic weapon, and spoke the word “Obedience”, considered the sword of the Tormish faith. Finally, on the western door, Jonrek cast a shield others spell and spoke the word “Loyalty”, which armored the Tormish in their beliefs. Each door opened in response to Jonrek’s actions, revealing rooms behind each. In these rooms, the group found numerous mundane weapons and armor, a suit of magical chain mail and an enchanted longsword.
Once the companions had discovered the contents of all of the rooms, they gathered up their magical maces, scrolls and vials of what they believed to be holy water and potions of healing. Making certain that everyone had a bludgeoning weapon with which to fight the skeletons they believed they might encounter, they made for the tombs.
After walking a little less than two miles, the entrance to the tombs became visible. They approached cautiously, but not cautiously enough. When they reached the archway, Berthold and Gunther, at the head of the group, were assaulted by another black bolt of energy. Shaking off their surprise, the two leaders continued onward, entering into the cavernous mouth of tombs. Behind them, Fallon held Berthold’s lantern aloft, allowing the humans in the group to see down the passageway ahead of them.
A few steps in, and the companions stopped. A quartet of skeletons, bearing longswords, stood blocking their narrow path. A moment later and the undead warriors were upon them, attacking with blind fury. The tight corridor forced the companions and the skeletons alike to fight two abreast. Gunther stepped back, allowing Jonrek to take his place on the front line, as he readied a magic missile. Soon the fighter, the cleric and the wizard had reduced four skeletons to two. Gunther, realizing this battle was soon to be over, saved his spells and reached for a vial of holy water. Lobbing it at a skeleton, the dwarf missed, but several splashes of the liquid landed on one of the warriors, creating sizzling holes in the bone where they landed. Within seconds, all four of the skeletons were defeated, reduced to splinters of bones at Berthold and Jonrek’s feet.
As the companions made to step over the defeated undead, a curious fact caught their attention. The longswords the skeletons had been carrying were soaked in fresh blood. Wondering what that strange detail could mean, the six friends continued onward, deeper into the tombs. |
"Suffering is the touchstone of all spiritual growth."
-St. Sollars the Twice-Martyred |
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Brother Ezra
Learned Scribe
USA
268 Posts |
Posted - 25 Jan 2005 : 14:02:33
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Continuing down the entry corridor, the companions began to search for the secret passage to the other levels Chief Justice Pebble had mentioned. As it happened, Gunther’s superior knowledge of stonework enabled the dwarf to locate the poorly concealed doorway with little trouble. Having pinpointed the door’s location, the group pressed onward, not yet ready to leave their current level.
A little further up the hallway, Berthold and Gunther could make out another doorway into what looked to be a large room. The fighter pressed ahead, leaving the party several steps behind, and entered the room. Inside was a massive, formerly white, marble fountain. The sides were covered in blood and gore, which were spewing upward in an arc in place of water. On the front was a glowing red rune, which filled Berthold, and his now caught-up companions, with a feeling of wrongness. The walls of the room were filed with sarcophagi, which had been smeared with sigils of the demon lord Orcus, just as the walls in the two shrines had been.
Before the party members could take in any more of the details of their surroundings, their attention turned back to the fountain, where four blood soaked skeletons began to emerge from the well of blood. The undead warriors, each bearing a bloody longsword, closed in on Berthold at the front of the group. The fighter began to exchange blows with the first of the skeletons to reach him as the other three crowded nearer.
With the wand of healing in hand, Caeg stepped up behind Berthold and cured him of some of the punishment the skeleton had meted out. Right behind the ranger was Jonrek, who held up his symbol of Tyr—which had been formed for him out a former cursed mace once belonging to Tavik, the half-orc cleric of Orcus—and compelled the skeletons to turn aside. Two of them complied, marking Jonrek’s first successful attempt at turning undead.
Fallon and Ashe then entered the room, each of them engaging one of the two remaining skeletons. Ashe landed a solid hit on one of them, then moved slightly in order to flank the monster across from Fallon. Jonrek, satisfied with the result of his experiment in turning, laid his mace into one the other skeleton, while Gunther tossed a bottle of holy water, missing his target, but still causing some damage to one of the skeletons with the backsplash.
While the companions fought with all their might against the two unusually tough skeletons, four more began to rise from the fountain. It occurred to Fallon then that this was what Gerhardt Kuska had meant by “endless death from a well of bones.” Resignedly, the companions fought on, hoping to defeat their current enemies before even more rose up.
One of the beasts hit Ashe as she made her way toward the fountain, grasping at a desperate idea. She removed a flask of holy water from her pack and poured it over the rune. Though the rune did smoke a little, the water did not seem to affect it. The wicked symbol was a bright red as ever.
Finally, after several tense moments of combat, Berthold managed to fell one of the skeletons, but only after another hit the fighter hard. Caeg, still on healing duty, used another charge on the warrior, who was beginning to believe someone had painted a big red target on his armor.
Behind them, Gunther prepared a spell. A scorching ray burst from the dwarf’s palm, but was unwittingly intercepted by Jonrek, whose back was turned to the dangerous wizard. The cleric cast a baleful glance over his shoulder as he patted the flames from his cloak and stepped back to imbibe one of the healing potions stored in his pack.
As the battle raged on, four more skeletons crawled from the fountain. Ashe was able to gain an extra hit on the one closest to her as it clambered to its feet, but to little avail. The companions were now faced with nine attacking skeletons, in addition the two that had been banished by Jonrek to the far side of the room. The companions knew the effects of the turning would not last indefinitely. If they couldn’t find a way to destroy the red rune, which they believed was the source of the “well of bones,” they would soon be surrounded.
Fighting with all of their heart and might, Berthold and Fallon each took out a skeleton apiece. Ashe hanged tactics against the rune, this time pouring a bottle of acid. Unfortunately, the vial slipped from the druid’s sweaty fingers, creating a pool of the sizzling liquid on the floor at her feet. Gunther cast another spell. This one— a mirror image illusion—was more ingenious and less dangerous than his last offering. As the last syllable of the incantation left the dwarf’s lips, four dwarvish figures—exact copies of their creator—appeared between the caster and a group of skeletons.
The undead soldiers, too mindless to recognize the ruse, began attacking the conjured dwarves, drawing some heat off of the party. Fallon, Berthold, Jonrek and Caeg used the diversion to their advantage, laying their blunt weapons into the brittle bones of their attackers, but failing to drop any of them. As his illusory images began to be dispelled by hits from the skeletons, Gunther prepared another spell. He cast a Melf’s acid arrow at one of the skeletons, missing badly, but thankfully not hitting any of his badly pressed companions.
As four more skeletal warriors crawled out of the accursed fountain, Berthold called for a retreat.
“They’re going to kill us all! We need to pull out!”
Without a single argument, the companions withdrew from combat, filing down the dark corridor the way they had come. As they made their way out, Fallon thought of a plan.
“If we hold our ground at the entrance to the catacombs, they’ll be forced to fight us two abreast. We can still defeat them!” the ranger called out.
With thirteen skeletons swift on their heels — the turning effect had worn off of the original two — the friends raced to the entrance. Outside, Berthold, Jonrek and Fallon took up fighting positions at the mouth of the corridor, readying themselves to attack to approaching enemies. Ashe cast a Summon Nature’s Ally spell, conjuring a small fire elemental in the midst of the pressing throng of skeletons. Sadly, though, the poor creature was surrounded and dispelled before it could do any damage to the undead foes. With a growl of frustration, the druid summoned a new elemental ally, this time of the earth variety. The earth elemental fared better than its predecessor, wreaking havoc among the rear flank of the skeletons.
In the second line, Caeg and Gunther tossed vial after vial of holy water into the melee, further weakening the skeletal attackers. As the three frontline fighters gradually picked the monsters off two by two, Ashe cast a produce flame spell and began to lob balls of fire into the thinning pool of enemies. One of her throws went astray, though, destroying her ill-fated earth elemental.
Despite the misfire, the battle ended quickly. No more skeletons had materialized from the defiled font, confirming the group’s suspicions about the purpose of the rune. Soon, those that had followed them out of the fountain room were reduced to a pile of blood-soaked bones at the defenders’ feet. The ease with which they were defeated, once they had been drawn away from the symbol, made them wonder whether the skeletons had been strengthened by proximity to the rune.
Breathing a collective sigh of relief, the companions left the tombs. They needed a night of rest to refresh their spells and to formulate a plan for destroying the rune. Only a few steps from the structure, though, they were faced with a pair of giant spiders, blocking their path. After their harrowing encounter with the skeletons, though, the spiders seemed to pose little difficulty for the seasoned fighters. A few of sword-blows well-placed bites from Darksbane, Ashe’s dire bat companion, later and the hairy arachnids soon lay dead.
The six friends made their way back to the temple of Tyr, where they had left their mounts. Some of the horses had wandered out of the temple and were grazing nearby, but all of them rounded up easily enough. Exiting the compound to avoid any surprise visitors in the night, Caeg and Fallon were able to find a well-treed, defensible hilltop where they could camp for the night with little danger of being discovered. Because it was a warm night, the party opted to forgo the use of a fire. The rangers foraged for some herbs and berries, enabling everyone to preserve their store of rations.
The night passed quietly enough as the companions discussed plans for defeating the evil rune in the fountain room.
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"Suffering is the touchstone of all spiritual growth."
-St. Sollars the Twice-Martyred |
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Brother Ezra
Learned Scribe
USA
268 Posts |
Posted - 26 Jan 2005 : 13:04:32
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That night, as the party enjoyed an undisturbed night’s rest, Ashe settled on a plan for destroying the glowing red rune on the dread fountain. One of the spells in her repertoire, stone shape, would enable her to touch a piece of molded clay to the fountain and reshape it into an exact replica of her sculpture. Convinced her idea was exactly the thing to defeat the rune, the druid snuggled more deeply into her bedroll, smiling with satisfaction as she trailed off to sleep.
In the morning, as the group prepared to head back to the tomb, they clearly heard the sound of hoofbeats approaching. Fallon and Caeg hid in the brush, bows trained in the direction of the sound, while the others placed hands on weapons. Gunther set aside his spellbook, which he had only just opened, annoyed at the intrusion in his preparations. At the far side of camp, Ashe and Jonrek sat, still entranced in their morning prayers.
The companions were greatly relieved when the figure finally emerged. Their morning visitor seemed harmless enough. It was a halfling – well groomed and dressed in finely made garments – riding a pony. The little fellow introduced himself, in haughty tones, as Broderick Towercap, a scholar, explorer and archaeologist, as Fallon and Caeg emerged from the trees, bows lowered.
Gunther, regarding the newcomer with a sour expression, inquired as to what the halfling wanted. Broderick smiled at the dwarf condescendingly and explained that he had been watching the group from a distance for some days. He said he had an academic interest in the tombs and wanted to join the party for the furtherance of his research. As the halfling continued his speech, he managed to make subtly offensive comments about nearly every member of the party, in his conceited manner. At the end of it all, he inquired, “So, what do you say? Can I come along with you?”
Fallon’s lip curled in an unfriendly sneer. She didn’t like the creature’s self-importance, or his obvious preference for luxury. Furthermore, she didn’t believe for a moment that he was really an explorer.
“I say if you ride that pony out of here fast enough I won’t shoot you,” she replied, raising her bow back up slightly.
“My dear woman, what have I done to you to deserve such ire?” Broderick asked innocently.
Caeg, stepping in as the peacemaker, smiled, “Don’t mind her. She’s got an unusual sense of humor.”
Fallon was undeterred, however.
“Go away, halfling,” she spat, scowling, “We wouldn’t want you to soil your nice clothes.”
“Oh, it’s quite all right,” Broderick retorted sharply, “I have several sets, you see. But I know that’s a foreign concept to you rangers.”
For the first time, the halfling’s eyes alighted on Jonrek, whose lips were moving in silent adulation.
“Is he a madman, or just simple?” he asked.
He looked closer, with an expression of distaste, at the praying cleric, then cocked his head curiously.
“Oh, he’s a half-elf!”
“So is the ranger,” Gunther said, motioning toward Fallon.
“How fascinating. Are they a mated pair?” asked Broderick in excited tones.
Fallon’s sneer turned into an outright growl, and the halfling took the opportunity to bow his leave.
“I’ll allow you to confer amongst yourselves. My cart is back on the path. You can send for me once you’ve decided.”
With that he was back on his pony and had soon disappeared the way he had come. Once he was clearly gone, the group bean to discuss the matter. Jonrek, who had finished his devotions and been briefly filled in, voiced concerns that the halfling, who appeared to be unnamed but for a small dagger on his belt, would be hurt. Gunther seemed most concerned that the newcomer seemed to eager to procure some interesting “artifacts” which he might study. Like Fallon, the dwarf had his doubts about the veracity of the halfling’s assertions as to his vocation. Fallon stated flat out that she didn’t like the little prig, but added that she had not been in favor of Berthold or Caeg joining the group either, and they had proven useful enough.
Despite their numerous reservations, it was decided that there was little, short of tying him to a tree, that would prevent allowing Broderick to come along if he so desired. And, as Gunther so pragmatically put it, the halfling would be “one more target” during combat. Though Jonrek’s brows knotted at the dwarf’s callous pronouncement, few others could argue with the logic of it. Caeg, who seemed to be the only one who had taken no quarrel with the little fellow, was sent to inform him of the group’s decision.
Upon reaching the halfling’s cart, the strapping human ranger was invited to have a cup of tea. Caeg sat and made polite conversation about his home, the Moonshae Isles, with his newest companion before apologizing that he had to go tend to his horse and gear, and downing the tiny serving of tea in one gulp, much to Broderick’s amazed horror.
On the way back to the tombs, it was decided that Ashe would be sent, alone, into to fountain room, while the others waited in the corridor to provide backup. She would have just enough time to run in, cast her spell, and run back out before the skeletons were able to fully emerge from the gruesome well. The companions would then draw the skeletons into the corridor and slay them two by two, as they had on the previous afternoon. Inside the compound, they stopped and again left their hroses, as well as Broderick’s pony and cart, inside the temple of Torm before continuing on.
Upon reaching the entrance to the tombs, Berthold and Gunther were again struck by a bolt of black energy. Cursing himself in unintelligible dwarven for forgetting about the trap, Gunter led onward. The companions made their way down the hallway in eerie silence. The twin-file lines came to a halt several feet from the doorway into the fountain room. Ashe, steeling her courage, slipped to the front of the group and entered the room. She strode boldly up to the fountain and placed her clay “sculpture” – for, really, it was just a wad of clay pinched up into misshapen mess – up to its surface. As the druid cast her spell, her friends watched the bloodstained marble writhe and reform itself, as if sculpted by enormous, invisible hands. Holding their collective breath, they began to inwardly exult as they watched the pulsing red rune warp and then become lost under layers of twisted marble. As quickly as it had disappeared, however, the rune reemerged, like gashes being cut into the stone. Its lines were distorted, but no less deep and imposing than before.
Ashe cried out in protest, not understanding how her plan could have failed. As the young druid stood there, feeling defeated, a realization began to dawn on her friends, one by one. In their anticipation over the rune, they hadn’t noticed an unusual fact. Ashe had been in the room for some time, yet no skeletons had emerged from the fountain. On the previous day, Berthold had been in the room for mere seconds before the undead soldiers had begun to crawl out. They had little time to puzzle over the curious fact, as Gunter strode into the room, determined to destroy the rune. With equal determination Caeg followed, raising the massive maul he had inherited from Hiro.
No sooner did the ranger set foot over the threshold than the familiar bony fingers appeared at the edge of the fountain. For whatever reason, the rune had ignored the presence of Ashe and Gunther, but would not tolerate Caeg’s entering the room. Before they had gotten far, Jonrek caught up with his two companions, imparting each with a Hide from Undead spell. The ranger’s long legged stride took him to the fountain first, and he laid into the unholy marble with a thunderous blow from his massive hammer. Though his hit was solid, it failed to make even a chip in the fell rune. Gunther followed Caeg’s attack with a magical one of his own, casting a Scorching Ray at the fountain. The flare from the dwarf’s spell startled Caeg to the point where his next strike missed badly, sending the ranger careening around with the momentum of his heavy weapon.
Broderick, not waiting for instructions from his new companions, bolted into the room, making for one of the doorways along the right hand wall. Fallon and Berthold, now the only people left in the hallway, cursed the halfling’s dangerous rashness.
By this time, the skeletons had fully emerged from the fountain and, ignoring the magically masked pair right in front of them, made for Ashe, Jonrek and Broderick, the halfling now alone at the far side of the room. Caeg aimed another powerful blow at the glowing rune, slamming into it with all of his might. Still, however, the ghastly symbol remained unharmed. Realizing his strength would not avail against the arcane evil, Caeg resignedly obeyed when Gunther, still behind him, barked at him to leave the room.
The frustrated ranger took his place in the hallway, readying an attack as Ashe and Jonrek lured the three skeletons closest to them into the corridor, away from the center of their power. As the first of the monsters entered the corridor, still oblivious to the magically warded ranger’s presence, Caeg crushed it beneath the weight of his “big hammer.” The fourth skeleton slashed viciously at Broderick, sorely wounding the halfling. Realizing he could not take another hit like that, the little archaeologist scurried away from the beast, running up a short staircase beyond one of the doorways, and ducking into the pitch-black room beyond. The skeleton, in blind stupidity, did not pursue, but moved toward the more visible targets fighting in the corridor.
After landing a few solid hits on two of the skeletons, but also taking a few themselves, Ashe and Jonrek squeezed to the back of the line, allowing Caeg and Berthold, still at full strength, to hold of the attackers. Berthold bashed at the skeleton in front of him with brutal force once, then twice, removing it for good from the battle. Caeg’s next hit missed badly, and opened the ranger up for a vicious attack from his undead opponent. Realizing he had been critically wounded, Caeg stepped back allowing his fellow ranger, Fallon, to take his place. As he fumbled in his backpack for the wand of healing, Gunther leveled another Scorching Ray at the rune, also to no effect.
The dwarf shook his head in frustration, realizing that whatever magic had created the rune was more powerful that n his own. As no more skeletons had risen from the font, the he deduced that he was free to move about and explore the room. The remaining two skeletons, he decided, would cause his powerful allies few problems. Gunther made his way across the, toward the stairway where Broderick had disappeared. The halfling trembled as he heard footsteps approaching, but calmed when he saw the stocky form of the dwarf in the doorway. Gunther took a cursory glance inside the alcove, for that’s all the tiny room really was. As in the larger chamber, sarcophagi lined the walls. Nothing else seemed to hold any interest, so the dwarf turned and explored the one next to it. It was the same as the first.
The two rooms along the opposite wall were also identical, but the two doorways along the far side of the room from the entrance were slightly different. They were longish corridors with several side chambers each, all containing more sarcophagi. The one on the right seemed mundane enough, but the one on the right contained another rune, much like the one on the fountain, but larger and emanating even more evil. Overcome by curiosity, Gunther moved closer, satisfied when nothing horrible happened to him. Behind him, the dwarf could hear another skeleton fall. The battle would soon be over. He hurried out, narrowly missing a collision with Broderick, who was hovering at the entrance to the corridor. The halfling had crawled out of his hiding place, secure in the knowledge that the last skeleton was too occupied with his companions to bother with him.
Gunther bristled slightly, but calmed quickly enough. He had been going to fetch the halfling anyway, to see what he made of the second rune. The dwarf also made a mental note that Broderick, like himself and Ashe, did not seem to trigger the rune when he entered the room. He pulled the trembling little scholar into the corridor with him and showed him the rune. Broderick, more interested now that frightened, approached the rune to see if he could find any way to disable the thing, but came up at a loss. Halfling and dwarf emerged from the corridor just in time to see Caeg, back at the front of the line, take down the final skeleton.
As the pair approached, Fallon called out sarcastically, “Oh, thank the gods! I thought you two had surely perished!”
Ignoring the half-elf’s spite, Gunther and Broderick described their findings to the group. It was decided that Ashe, who also seemed to have no effect on the rune, would be sent with them, and the trio would take the lantern and perform thorough search of all of the rooms and corridors. Though the process was long, the only thing the subgroup found, other than the second rune, was a small hole in the wall of one of the spurs in the right had corridor. The next spur, one deeper in, bore an identical hole. The opening was large enough for Broderick to crawl into, but none of the others. Ashe returned to explain the findings to the rest of the group, and it was decided that the halfling should go in and look around. Caeg passed the wand of healing to the druid, just in case. When she returned, Ashe healed Broderick’s previous wound and informed him of the group’s decision. Without the slightest complaint, the halfling climbed into the rough hole.
Once inside, he could tell it had been made naturally, probably by some type of animal. Several feet in, Broderick noticed the path forked. He could bear slightly to the left, or follow a sharp curve to the right. Believing the right turn let out at the hole in the other corridor, the halfling took that route to test his theory. Upon finding he was correct, he turned about and continued back the way he came until he had returned to the fork. He turned into the unexplored route for a while, but turned hastily back when he heard the squeaking of what sounded like large rodents ahead. He told Ashe and Gunter what he had heard and seen, and the three returned to the rest of the group.
Satisfied that they had seen everything there was to see on this level, the companions decided the time had come to explore whatever was concealed behind the “secret doorway.” Without hesitation, Gunther activated the door, setting off a firetrap in the process. Though he dove out of the way, the dwarf was painfully singed. As they prepared to move into the now exposed corridor, however, the companions noticed four more skeletons moving toward them from the fountain room, probably summoned by the firetrap. Berthold and Fallon, as yet unharmed from the earlier skeleton battle, moved into position to fight the beasts, while Gunter and Broderick pressed ahead into the new corridor.
Only a few steps inside the door, Broderick found a lever in the upright position. Frustrated that he couldn't reach it, he directed Gunther to pull it. As the dwarf obeyed, the halfling could hear the sound of chains and pulleys. He scanned the floor for signs of anything out of the ordinary and notices the edges of what appears to be a pit trap, just inches away from his feet. The halfling motioned for Gunther to raise the lever, which he did, and they could both hear the sound again. From his pack, Broderick produced several short poles, which he screwed together into one long pole, then used to push with all of his might on the section of the floor he believed to be trapped. As it fell away, the halfling was forced to stagger quickly backwards, or go plummeting into the newly opened abyss. Gunther, now curious, walked over to look into the hole as Ashe followed the pair into the room. Regaining his balance, Broderick asked the druid to kindly pull the lever. As she did, the missing section of floor moved back into place. The halfling then pushed at the spot again with his pole, this time with Gunther grasping the back of his trousers and counterbalancing his weight. No matter how hard he pushed, though, the floor remained stable.
Believing it to be safe, first the halfling, then the dwarf, walked out onto the section of floor. Both were relieved to find that it held. Broderick pressed on for several feet, until he came to a descending stairway. He stopped there, waiting for the rest of the group.
Out in the corridor, the other companions were making short work of this latest batch of skeletons. Berthold felled the first, Fallon quickly defeated another, mere seconds later. Jonrek then moved up into the spot where the second monster had fallen. Forming a triangle of defense around the final two skeletons in the tight hallway, ranger, fighter and cleric had soon added their enemies to the growing collection of splinters bone littering the floor.
No sooner had Berthold’s mace shattered the final skeleton than Gunther emered from the door, inquiring in his thick accent, “What is taking you so long?”
The tired combatants stared ruefully at the wizard as he explained to them what he and the halfling had found. Wiping sweat and blood form their eyes, the group turn to follow the dwarf into the secret passageway. Once everyone was inside, Gunther secured door behind them. Each of them apprehensive about what might lie ahead, the group rejoined the halfling where he waited, with Ashe, at the top of the stairs.
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"Suffering is the touchstone of all spiritual growth."
-St. Sollars the Twice-Martyred |
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Brother Ezra
Learned Scribe
USA
268 Posts |
Posted - 03 Apr 2005 : 14:21:19
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Once everyone had caught up to Broderick at the stairwell, the group cautiously proceeded down. The steps were steep and unevenly hewn, and the corridor around them seemed like a natural passageway, with rough, natural walls. By the time they had reached the bottom, Gunther surmised that they were about 100 feet from the top and 200 feet underground, owing to the large hill into which the tombs were built. The stairs ended in a small natural cavern, ending is an imposing iron door and containing a murky pool that extended from beneath one wall into the center of the chamber.
Gunther directed Brodrick to test the pool’s depth with his pole, and the halfling obliged, screwing together the staff’s three segments. No sooner had the tip of the pole grazed the water’s surface, however, than something appearing to be a tentacle emerged, snatching Brodrick from his feet with lightning quickness. The frightened halfling was pulled into the water, where he began thrashing and screaming in a fear-stricken panic.
Berthold, who had been standing at Brodrick’s side with his sword readied, was at a loss. He dropped his sword and took up his bow, aiming a shot blindly into the dark water. Gunther cast a Magic Missile, seemingly hitting the beast—whatever it was—for the water filled with an inky substance, making it even blacker than before. The attacks only served to anger the creature, which pulled its prey toward its enormous maw and bit into the halfling’s diminutive legs.
Fallon threw down her readied bow and ran to the side of the pool nearest her endangered companion. Lying herself flat on her stomach at the edge of the pool, the ranger reached out her hand, calling to the poor, terrified halfling, “Brodrick, grab my hand! Try to climb up me!”
Jonrek cast a spiritual weapon spell, causing a longsword to materialize over the pool and attack the unseen creature as if possessed of a mind of its own. As soon as the weapon pierced the water in its opening attack, the creature’s grip on its victim loosened, and the body of the beast — a giant frog — floated to the surface. Brodrick, sensing that he was free, tried to swim away, but in his panicked state began to go under.
Gunther then flew to the edge of the pool, right next to Fallon, and made a successful grab the pole the halfling still held. Fallon, too, attempted to seize the pole, but was unable to secure a good grip from her prone position. Ashe, who had been tying a rope around her waist throughout the brief conflict, handed the other end to Caeg and dove into the fetid smelling water. Before the druid even reached Brodrick, however, Gunther had roughly hauled the halfling, clinging to his pole for dear life, to dry land.
With two members of the party now thoroughly wet and miserable, but still alive, the companions turned their attention to the iron door. Like much of the other architecture in the tombs, the door was littered with the brown graffiti of Orcus’ followers. Beneath the evil sigils, however, was another rune carved into the iron. Neither Gunther nor Jonrek recognized the symbol. Once a shivering Brodrick had checked the door for traps—finding none—Gunther attempted, and failed, to pull the door open. Caeg stepped up to help the dwarf, and together they were able open it. The accompanying cry of the rusted hinges set everyone on edge, but the companions pressed forward into the next room—another natural cavern, this one larger than the last.
A little further on, the companions saw what appeared to be natural light streaming into the room. Gusts of fresh air greeted the companions from the same direction. Heading toward the light, the group found a chamber with a hole at the top, allowing the daylight to penetrate the deep gloom. Dead leaves littered the floor. Two corridors, one to the west and another to the east, extended from the chamber, each only wide enough for the companions to walk single-file. Without waiting to confer with the rest of the group, Gunther began to stomp off down the east tunnel. Shrugging, the others followed.
Eventually, the group came to a fork in the tunnel. Both branches were blocked with a four-foot pile of rubble. Their structure suggested they were not natural, but had been placed as an obstacle. Examining them, Caeg and Fallon found several sets of tracks, including six booted humanoid figures and one much larger creature. Deciding to take the left passage first, the companions began to scramble over the wall. When half of the party had cleared the barrier, though, Ashe and Caeg caught sight of a troubling figure approaching from the right-hand tunnel. A massive ogre, clad in ill-fitting chainmail and carrying a giant maul, twice as big as Caeg’s, stomped up to the wall, glowering threateningly at the remaining half of the group.
Caeg was the first to move. In a blinding display of reflexes, the ranger called out “Ogre!” as he fired two arrows at the monster, unfortunately missing with both. Fallon, who was the last one over the wall, turned and attempted to climb back over, but slipped on her first try. With fierce determination, she picked herself up and tried again, this time succeeding. Likewise, Berthold also scrambled over, slipping as the ranger had before him, but finally making it back to the other side. Behind them, Gunther, and Erreth, Fallon’s wolf companion, turned back and reentered the chamber by way of the rubble heap.
With a feral roar, the ogre swung his hammer mightily at Darksbane the dire bat, stunning the poor creature with the force of its blow. The bat attempted to fight back, but was unable to land a solid bite. With the wall in the way, none of the companions could get close enough to the ogre for a melee attack, and were forced to rely on spells and ranged weapons. Jonrek cast his second spiritual weapon of the day. Just as it had in the first cavern, a longsword appeared out of thin air, attacking the ogre without human assistance. Caeg lined up two more arrows, this time landing one.
In a fit of frustration, the ogre snarled “Dinner not supposed to fight back!” He swung again at Darksbane, but missed. Ashe, who had begun casting a summon nature’s ally spell as soon as she saw the ogre, finished. A dire wolf materialized, snapping its fearsome fangs viciously behind the hulking enemy. Jonrek then cast a guidance spell on Caeg, who was lining up another shot next to him. The ranger’s arrows, empowered by the cleric’s spell, both struck true. Fallon, too, cast a summon nature’s ally spell, conjuring up an eagle right above the ogre’s head. Below it, Ashe’s dire wolf tore a sizable chunk from the ogre’s leg. Gunther, moving up in front of Caeg, cast a scorching ray. The spell finished the beast off in a flash heat and light.
With the ogre now dead, Brodrick reappeared from the corner where he had been cowering to help search the monster. Gunther cast a detect magic spell and determined that both the armor and the maul were enchanted. The group gathered up both items and continued on their way. At the end of the blocked corridor, they found the ogre’s lair. From inside, they could see that both passages had led into the small chamber. The floor was littered with the bones of both humanoids and giant rat-like creatures — obviously previous dinners for the ogre. The companions noticed a cavern about 15 feet up. Making a note of its existence, they decided to continue on in their current level. As they trailed behind Gunther through the winding tunnels, the group began to feel another breeze. Following the fresh air, they came into another chamber with an opening in the top. In the daylight, the rangers noticed more human tracks, as wells as the droppings of a large creature they determined was some type of carnivore.
Gunther led the group out of the chamber and into another natural room, this one closed off at the end with a wooden door. Next to the door lay two discarded longswords, badly chinked. Strangely, no bodies or blood accompanied the swords. After Brodrick had checked the door for traps, Fallon listened for any sign of life on the other side. Hearing nothing, the group decided to go in. Caeg tugged at the door and, though it initially resisted, he was soon able to pull it open.
Inside was a man-made room that appeared to be another burial chamber. Six sarcophagi were lined up along the walls. Berthold and Gunther were the first to enter and, as soon as they did, a skeleton rose from each of the coffins. Each wielded a scimitar and bore a pair of rubies in its eye sockets. Ashe, in the doorway, was the first to act. She cast a flaming sphere spell and sent it stalking after one of the skeletons. Caeg, tearing into the room in a fury, heaved his maul at another. Right behind him, Fallon burst into the room, bashing a third skeleton with her magical mace. With a righteous zeal, Jonrek held up his symbol of Tyr, commanding the undead enemies to begone. Four of the skeletons obeyed the cleric’s decree. The first, hemmed in by attackers, retreated to the nearest corner, cowering there for the remainder of the encounter. The two closest to Fallon and Caeg attempted to flee, but were handily finished off by the two rangers. The fourth ran unimpeded into an open doorway at the far side of the room.
As Fallon and Caeg approached the two remaining skeletons still, Erreth the wolf ran up to do battle beside his master, tripping one of the skeletons. Berthold, nearby, wasted no time in finishing off the prone enemy. In the corner, Gunther quickly finished off the cowering skeleton, while Ashe attacked the last one in the room with her flaming sphere. In an instant, Fallon had taken down the charred figure, leaving only the one escaped skeleton to pursue. Ashe followed behind her ball of flame, looking into the far doorway while her companions busied themselves with the task of prying the rubies from the now still skulls.
From the doorway, Ashe could see the skeleton, cowering in the corner of the adjacent room. Another instant later, though, the druid’s gaze alighted on a more troubling vision. In a terror, she flew from the doorway, white as a sheet. In a breathless, barely intelligible shriek, she cried, “In there! Two big ugly guys with horns!” No sooner had the druid spoken, then one of the “big ugly guys – sans horns – emerged from the side room.
The creature looked zombie-like, but without the shambling gait and blank expression of its lesser undead brethren. It wore a suit of black armor, bearing a glowing red rune. As it drew closer, Fallon, Caeg and Berthold were filled with an intense, overbearing dread. The three warriors bolted from the room as fast as their legs could carry them. Erreth turned tail behind his master, fleeing right behind her, while Brodrick, who had never entered the room in the first place, took up the lead, running several paces ahead of the pack. Anything that could scare off the group’s frontline fighters was not something the halfling wanted to meet. Jonrek also felt the overpowering dread, but was able to hold his ground. Realizing his remaining companions would need bolstering against whatever fell magic the rune was emanating, he cast a prayer spell, granting them a measure of extra strength and protection.
Ashe, who had by this time regained control of her wits, willed her flaming sphere to attack the fiend. Seconds later, Gunther expelled another scorching ray. The companions watched the creature’s flesh cracking like old parchment as both fiery attacks engulfed it. Still the beast lurched forward, reaching out its vile hand to touch its nearest foe, Darksbane. The dire bat’s agility far outstripped that of the undead warrior, though and he nimbly escaped whatever horrific effects that touch promised to bestow. Ashe’s sphere, having outlived its intended duration, disappeared in a puff of smoke. Nonplussed, the druid cast a produce flame spell and lobbed a ball of fire at the wretch. Flames licked at the creature’s form, felling it.
Out in the corridors, Fallon, Caeg and Berthold ran on for several hundred feet before the their terror subsided. Stopping, the three companions looked at each other, ashamed at having run from a single adversary. As one, they turned and ran back toward the burial chamber, hoping they weren’t too late to aid the friends they had so inexplicably abandoned. Brodrick, confused, followed them, but without their apparent zeal. When they arrived back at the room, they were relieved to see the others had defeated the monster with little trouble.
Remembering that Ashe had indicated there were two creatures in the other room, the group went investigate the whereabouts of the other enemy. Ashe plucked one of the many bones from the floor and cast a light spell on it, chucking it into the room, revealing a winged, horned evil-looking figure bearing a skull-tipped mace. The beast made no attempt to attack, or even move from its place. After a few moments of anxious watching, Jonrek realized they were looking not at a monster, but at a graven image of the demon lord Orcus. The turned skeleton continued to cringe in one corner. Berthold and Caeg strode confidently into the room to finish of the trembling monster. In seconds, they had destroyed the skeleton. As they freed the final set of rubies out, though, both men felt a wave sickening power envelop them from the direction of the stature. They knew at once that some of their strength had been sapped, and turned immediately toward the door, lest they suffer from another weakening attack.
Gunther spat disdainfully when he saw his companions’ ashen complexions. The dwarf would be damned if he would allow some statue – and a poorly wrought one at that—to get the best of him. Taking the ogre’s magical maul from Caeg, he clomped heavily into the room and heaved the massive weapon at the demon’s disfigured visage. His first blow took a fair-sized chip out of the idol, but subsequent strikes were not as well placed. Ignoring the calls of his some of his more impatient comrades, the sturdy wizard continued in his labors for close to two hours, until the wicked effigy was reduced to rubble. When he was finished, Gunther felt immediately lighter. He could tell instantly that his toil had been effective in dispelling the accursed aura that had filled the room.
Once his trance of destructive rage had been expelled, Gunther noticed a crypt pushed against one wall. Opening it, the dwarf found it was filled with treasure — diamonds, thousands of coins, a magical buckler and quiver and three golden idols of Orcus. The dais had been carved in black stone and was spattered in blood. Jonrek entered the room to investigate and, seeing no trace of Tormish or Tyrran influence, said the treasure was fair for the taking. The companions gathered the items up in several sacks.
With much of the day, and more battles that they would have liked, behind them, the companions needed to rest. Caeg and Berthold were both weakened, and the spell casters had expended all of their power for the day. The group decided to stay where they were for the night. With only one entrance, the room was isolated and defensible.
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"Suffering is the touchstone of all spiritual growth."
-St. Sollars the Twice-Martyred |
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Brother Ezra
Learned Scribe
USA
268 Posts |
Posted - 05 Apr 2005 : 12:17:56
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As the group readied to bed down for the night, Ashe decided the time had come to use her new wildshape ability. As her friends watched on in amazed appreciation, the druid turned into an eagle and flew through the corridors of the underground complex until she reached the nearest of the two sinkhole rooms. Flying up and out of the hole, Ashe had a look around the exterior of the tombs with her sharp eagle eyes. Everything seemed quiet enough, and the sinkhole turned out to be exactly what it looked like: a natural occurrence. She returned to her friends with little to report, but feeling exhilarated by her first foray into animal form.
Before turning in, the companions propped a heavy stone coffin lid against the only door into the room, hoping to flatten any late night visitors before they could enter. Feeling relatively secure, the group set single watches for the night. About halfway through their sleep, during Berthold’s watch, the party was woken by the fighter’s call, “Wake up, we’re under attack!”
Those who woke first were confused by what they saw in the dim light of Brodrick’s magical lantern. Berthold appeared to be alone, slumped against the wall near the room’s entrance, trying to stab at thin air. Gradually, though, another figure came into view. Those who had been present for the fight against the restless spirit of Eralion the mage recognized their friend’s opponent. It was a shadow. Before anyone could react, the inky figure reached out its wispy fingers and touched Berthold; visibly drawing away a portion of the fighter’s already taxed strength.
Brodrick, the halfling “archaeologist” was the first up, but was little help, running away to cower behind a coffin at the opposite side of the room. Gunther sprung up next, casting a magic missile at the undead figure, followed by Fallon, who laid into it with her magical mace, but took a weakening touch from the shadow for her efforts. Seconds later, the shadowy form dissolved into the stones of the floor as Caeg showered it with a flask of holy water.
Though the fight had ended almost as quickly as it began, Berthold was in a bad way. He told his friends that he had actually taken two touches from the shadow—the first before he had woken them—in addition to the ill effects he had suffered with Caeg in the statue room. Jonrek, out of spells for the day, promised to help him in the morning, and the companions went back to sleep. The rest of the night passed quietly enough.
In the morning, Jonrek cast two restoration spells on the weakened fighter, failing to bring him back up to full strength, but helping to dispel his ashen color. Not wishing to lug the seven sacks of coin thought the dungeons with them, the companions decided to take the loot back to the surface and store it below the temple of Torm, along with the other items they had stowed there. The return would also give them a chance to check on and water their horses. It took less than ten minutes for them to wind their way back though the underground maze and up the long hewn stairway to the secret door. The way had seemed much longer the day before, when they had faced so many enemies in a few short hours. What they found on the other side the door, however, made every one of those encounters seem pleasant in comparison.
Waiting for them in the tight corridor of the upper tomb was a massive toad-like humanoid figure with sharp spines running down the length of its back. The creature spoke to them in a voice that sounded like a combination of crackling fire and crunching boulders. Jonrek, who had just spent several weeks learning abyssal, was able to decipher a few of the monster’s words: “owners,” “unhappy,” “summoned,” “foolish mortals” and “death.” The creature also uttered a strange word the cleric assumed was its name: Urriligishool.
With his usual swagger, Berthold stepped up to the monster to strike, but as he got closer, was overwhelmed by an overpowering stench and immediately began to retch, emptying his stomach of several days worth of meals. Erreth the wolf followed on the fighter’s heels, but fared no better than the human next to him. Soon, man and wolf stood side by side, vomiting uncontrollably. Erreth’s agony didn’t last long, though. An instant later, the demon – for Jonrek was certain that’s what the beast was — sunk both of its claws into the wolf and popped him into its mouth, swallowing him whole. Fallon, unable to see anything from her place far at the back of the line and around the corner, felt her link to the animal severed and knew her beloved companion had met his end.
Gunther, who had been beside Berthold at the front of the line, stepped out into the corridor, behind and to the right of the fighter. The dwarf cast a scorching ray, but the spell seemed to have no effect on the hulking fiend. Caeg followed, shooting the beast with an arrow from the magical quiver the group had found, but the arrow bounced right off of its chest. Right behind him Fallon stepped out, not knowing what to expect. The sight of the monster left her with no doubt that that it was something of great evil. She began fumbling in her backpack for one of the three vials of holy water stored there.
Ashe, still in the secret passageway, cast a resistance spell on Jonrek, who stood right in front of her, while the cleric began the first syllables of his trademark spiritual weapon spell. Soon, the disembodied magical longsword appeared in front of the monster. The floating weapon seemed to concern the demon no more than a mosquito would have, and it swiped heavily at Berthold. As the companions watched in horror, the demon picked the helpless fighter up over its head and bent his spine at an unnatural angle. It moved up as it did so, placing Jonrek in the range of its sickening smell. As Berthold and Erreth had before him, the cleric doubled over, his form wracked violently with uncontrolled vomiting.
Gunther, who now stood in front of most his companions, cast protection from evil on himself, hoping to hold the beast back. Behind him, Fallon found the first of her bottles of holy water and launched it at the towering wall of a beast. The site of the impact began to sizzle, giving the group hope that the thing could be defeated with enough holy water. Beside her, Caeg fired two more arrows, both of which bounced off of the monster. Still in the side corridor, Ashe used a summon nature’s ally spell to summon a Thoqqua, a serpent from the elemental plane of fire, behind the demon. As the words for the spell tumbled from the druid’s mouth, the companions cringed. They could hear the bones in Berthold’s spine snapping as the beast dropped him into its gaping maw. The fighter’s body hung limply from the monster’s mouth. His retching finally ceased.
In a rage over his friend’s apparent death, Caeg fired off two more arrows. This time, both seemed to nick the beast slightly before clattering to the floor. Fallon’s hand closed in on another flash of holy water, which she let fly, causing another patch of the monster’s flesh to bubble and steam. As Ashe’s spell ended and her summoned ally appeared, the druid leapt into action, dragging Jonrek away from the demon and behind the two rangers. With a nonchalant movement, the demon flipped Berthold’s body out of its mouth and onto the floor before turning and crushing the Thoqqua, sending it back to its plane with a single blow.
While the beast’s back was turned, Fallon seized her third, and final, vial of holy water and wailed it at the demon, again visibly wounding it. Swinging around, the creature stepped forward, overcoming Gunther’s protection spell and sinking its claws into the dwarven wizard. Though it had failed to hold the demon at bay, Gunther’s spell seemed to offer him enough protection that the beast was unable to take hold of him. As soon as the beast moved into attack range, Gunther was overcome by the creature’s unbearable stench and became sick as the others had before him. Realizing his friend may not withstand another attack, Caeg grabbed hold of the dwarf and dragged him out of the way. Fallon, out of holy water and now at the front of the line, turned and followed, while Brodrick led the way out several feet ahead of all of them.
Before leaving, Ashe decided to cast a call lightning spell as a parting gift to the demon. Tongues of lightning flared out from the druid’s fingertips and, as she and Caeg watched in amazed horror, deflected from the beast’s form in a blinding explosion. Dragging Jonrek, who was still weak with sickness, the druid fled to the open air as quickly as she could. Caeg followed, dragging Gunther. The monster said a few words the ranger couldn’t understand, and threw something down the corridor after him. It was Berthold’s head. Stopping to collect what was left of his friend, Caeg continued running as fast as he could with the heavy dwarven wizard in tow. Outside, a new day was dawning. The beautiful sunrise seemed to taunt them with its placidity.
Once they reached the outside air, both Gunther and Jonrek began to feel markedly better and were able to walk on their own. The companions made haste to the Tormish shrine where their horses and gear were hopefully still waiting. Fallon gave Caeg a sack to place Berthold’s head into. During the walk up, Caeg asked Jonrek if he had understood the demon’s parting words. The cleric nodded grimly, “He said ‘Keep this as a souvenir of your visit.’”
The party found their horses where they had left them and, after collecting the weapons and armor they had found beneath the shrine of Torm, were on the road, eager to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the accursed tombs. The group stopped in Kinbrace for the night, just as they had on their way up, and found the same inn they had stayed in on their previous visit. That night, the companions engaged in another drinking contest, just as they had only a few days earlier—though after the horrors they had witnessed, it seemed like a lifetime ago. Even Fallon and Jonrek, who normally found such behavior distasteful, joined in. In the end, the two half-elves drank all of the others under the table. The alcohol did numb the pain of their deep losses, but only slightly.
That night, as the companions slept, Caeg had an incredibly vivid dream. He saw his brother Earik, who he had lost many months before. Earik was alive, but in a very dark place. He was crying out for help and seemed to be in and underground passage. As Caeg looked around, he noticed the walls were flecked with shiny patches of red and green. The ranger shot up, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest. He couldn’t explain why, but he felt certain his vision was more than a dream. Caeg was convinced his brother was alive and trapped somewhere in the Bloodstone mines, and he knew it was up to him to find him. He settled back down onto his straw mat, but was unable to sleep for the rest of the night.
In the morning, as the party continued the return journey to Heliogabalus — each of their heads pounding from severe hangovers — Caeg told his friends he planned to part with them once they reached the capital city. Not wanting any of them to abandon their current quest to follow him, the ranger told them he was homesick for the Moonshae Isles and wanted to go home. Though they were disappointed to lose him from among their ranks, each member of the party wished Caeg well on his journey home. Fallon asked if there was anything she could do to make his way lighter, but when her fellow ranger replied with a lecherous grin, she swatted him upside the back of his head and rode to the front of the line.
Arriving in Heliogabalus around mid-afternoon, the group made immediately for the House of Righteous Rule — all except for Brodrick, who seemed to disappear shortly after passing through the city gates. The Holy Justices seemed taken aback by the appearance of the grimy, road weary adventurers. When Jonrek asked if Chief Justice Pebble was available, one of the other clerics explained that the Chief Justice was in a meeting with the merchant’s guild. Much to Jonrek’s chagrin, Gunther and Caeg — neither in any mood to wait — stormed over to the Merchant’s Guild Hall and demanded to speak with Pebble. Ashe and Fallon followed, more to keep their hotheaded friends in check than anything. When the guards quietly refused the pair admittance, Caeg, obviously unhinged from the loss of his friend, whipped Berthold’s head out of its sack and held it up, barking at the guards “Do you see this? This was my friend!” The guards were visible sickened by the display, but did not relent. The angry dwarf and ranger soon gave up and made their way back to the Tyrran temple.
Ashe and Fallon separated from them to pay a visit to Berthold’s mother, now truly alone in the world, at St. Sollars hospice. For an instant, Gunther’s expression softened. He gave the Fallon several Bloodstone bars to donate for the woman’s care. Though finding the hospice took a bit of asking around — the first person Fallon asked didn’t even speak common, but Ashe had better luck—the pair were eventually able to locate it. Cornering one of the clerics there, Fallon asked after Gisela and was informed the woman seemed to improve at times, but remained essentially unaware of her surroundings. Fallon told the cleric that Gisela’s son had been slain and said she thought it best not to tell her. The cleric agreed. He then took the ranger and the druid up to see the woman they had risked so much to rescue. Gisela clearly did not recognize her son’s friends, speaking to them as if they were ice merchants from her home village. When they asked if she needed anything, the woman replied that she had been meaning to get a new dress. Ashe and Fallon left after only a brief visit, leaving the cleric with Gunther’s donation, as well as some extra from their own pouches. Before returning to the temple, the two women located a dress shop and bought a simple but attractive blue dress for Gisela.
Back at House of Righteous Rule, Jonrek had been admitted to the library and had done some research on demons, trying to learn what he could of the creature he and his companions had faced. He found an entry describing a toad-faced monster with a gaping mouth and a sickening stench called a Hezrou, though the entry told him little he didn’t already know, beyond the beast’s name. After flipping through the book and finding nothing else of interest, the cleric returned the tome and went to the foyer, where he found Gunther and Caeg waiting impatiently for the Chief Justice to return.
It wasn’t long before the figure of the senior cleric entered the hall, his robes flapping briskly behind him and an escort on either side of him. He brushed right by the three companions, completely unaware of them until Gunther called out “Merton Pebble!” in his rumbling dwarven voice. The Chief Justice promptly halted and swung around to regard the dwarf curiously. His escorts, not expecting the interruption, were both thrown off balance. It took a moment, but recognition soon alighted on Merton Pebble’s face.
“You’ve returned! Please, give me a moment to change out of my vestments and I will see you immediately. I’m very anxious to hear your report.”
When the three adventurers were admitted to Pebble’s private study, the Chief Justice immediately asked Jonrek to recount his tale. The half elf told his superior of all they had seen and experienced at the tombs, explaining the likely meanings of the “Well of Bones” and the “Abomination” Gerhardt Kuska had raved about. He told of the evil clerics, the vandalism, the hordes of undead creatures and the loss of Hiro, Berthold and Erreth. He then described their final battle with the demon and his subsequent research into its identity. Chief Justice Pebble mulled over the name, Urriligishool, but it held no meaning for him. He was able only to impart that a Hezrou was an intermediate demon with immunities to several kinds of energy. That fact explained the failure of both Ashe and Gunther’s spells.
Ashe and Fallon arrived soon after, apologizing for being late. As the evening wore on, the companion showed Pebble the strange rune on the armor they had taken from the zombie-like creature—the Chief Justice believed the monster was probably a wight. He identified the rune as an ancient character for “fear,” but when Gunther sketched the rune they had seen on the fountain, the cleric was at a loss. When Pebble asked if the group had seen any sign of the lost clerics and paladins, Fallon said she believed they had been turned into undead. The statement made the man cringe.
As the conversation began to trail off, Jonrek declared his intention to return to the tombs. The others turned their attention to him. They had never discussed the possibility of returning. After a moment, though, most of them shrugged their assent. They would not allow their friend to find death alone. They would figure out some way to defeat the demon.
Caeg, fidgeting in his seat, used the period of silence to blurt out “So, how do you guys feel about resurrection?” Pebble replied that clerics of Tyr were known to use such spells to raise devout followers who had done the church some service. Caeg nodded and, for the second time that day, produced Berthold’s head. “Will you bring him back?” The cleric was unfazed by the ranger’s display. He said he would use a speak with dead spell to learn whether Berthold wished to be brought back and inform them of the outcome the following day.
As the companions rose to depart, Gunther asked Pebble one more question. “Our money?” The Chief Justice nodded “You were promised 2,500 talers each. We will have to discuss that in the morning, as well.” He bid the companions a good night and the five of them headed for the White Horse Inn, their unofficial headquarters, to reserve rooms for the night.
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"Suffering is the touchstone of all spiritual growth."
-St. Sollars the Twice-Martyred |
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Brother Ezra
Learned Scribe
USA
268 Posts |
Posted - 05 Apr 2005 : 12:42:04
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That night, the companions tried to rest from their ordeal, unaided this time by drink. Ashe, unable to sleep, sat up late into the night counting the money they had brought back from the altar to Orcus, while Fallon, across the room, lay awake puzzling over how the companions might send the demon Urriligishool back to its foul home. Though she could not know for sure, she suspected that the fumes that had come from the monster might have been some type of poison. She had known some creatures in her forest home to use similar defenses, though she had to admit there had been nothing natural about their foe. She reminded herself to mention her suspicions to Jonrek in the morning. As she considered the demon’s weaknesses, she realized the only thing that seemed to have any real effect had been the holy water. If only the companions could douse the beast in holy water in greater quantities than the small vials in which it was typically stored. Fallon smiled as the beginnings of a plan started to form in her mind.
Some time later, with Ashe still counting across the room, Fallon asked, “Can your mother summon a unicorn?”
“Yes,” said Ashe, curiously, but without hesitation.
“Would she send you a scroll to summon a unicorn?”
Ashe could see no reason why her mother would deny her this simple enough request, and asked why Fallon wanted to know.
“A unicorn is possibly the purest form of goodness on this plane,” answered the ranger. “If any creature can help us defeat that monster, a unicorn could.”
With that, the ranger rolled over and drifted off to sleep.
By sunup, Caeg had departed without so much as a goodbye to the companions. His decision to leave, coupled with the recent deaths of Hiro and Berthold, left the group without a major offensive threat. The companions discussed what to do about the problem and agreed to advertise for a warrior through a public notice. Though the halfling Brodrick was staying with them at the inn, he was unusually reticent, and did not take his meals with the group. No one knew whether or not he intended to return to the crypts with them, nor did they really care.
Fallon went to see Lily Langbaum, the innkeeper at the White Horse, and asked where she might procure some clay jugs, and also if there was a square nearby where she could post a notice. Lily pointed the ranger in the direction of Market Square for both, but noted that some other provisioners might be able to supply her needs more cheaply. Fallon nodded her thanks and was off to Market Square, where she posted the following message: "Wanted, capable fighter to join adventuring band. Must be strong and handy with weapons. Earn an equal portion of the spoils, magical and otherwise. Ask for Fallon at the White Horse Inn." She then looked for the jugs, but could not find them in the quantity she desired, and so headed over to Haldyrr’s, a shop Lily had recommended, where she found all she wanted and more.
Meanwhile, Ashe sent her falcon, Kaelin, to her home in Rawlinswood, with a message for her mother. She then took all of the mundane weapons and armor the group had found and sold them to a pair of dwarven craftsmen for a handy profit. She also began working with her dire bat, Darksbane, on a new trick she had devised. Back at the White Horse, Gunther set to work identifying as many of the magical items as he could, while Jonrek pored over the book the group had found in the crypts. Unfortunately, the cleric found nothing that could be of assistance to him and his companions. The book contained little more than a series of profane prayers to the demon lord Orcus.
Once Fallon had finished her shopping, including a trip to the tannery to requisition several special belts for the purpose of holding potions and/or holy water, she made her way back to the inn. She stopped to tell Lily she expected to receive visitors, and asked the innkeeper to have them return at dinnertime. Fallon then returned to her room and began carving ruts into 12 of the 15 half-gallon jugs she had bought, breaking only one of them in the process. She then took two of the carved jugs and two of the uncarved jugs and practiced throwing them at a tree. She was pleased when three out of the four easily broke, including the two she had scored. Satisfied that her plan to fill the jugs with holy water to cause the demon as much damage as possible with one hit would work, the ranger made ready for dinner.
That evening the companions all came together to share their insights from the day and discuss their plans for defeating the demon. As they ate, an unusual dwarf entered the common room. The companions paid him little heed as he stood, a little too politely, at the door, waiting to be acknowledged. Soon enough, Lily noticed him and ushered him over to the group’s table.
“Begging your pardon, Miss Fallon, but you said you might be expecting visitors, and this dwarf was about earlier looking for you,” said the innkeeper.
Fallon smiled, glad to see the first to respond to her post was a dwarf. The gruff ranger approved of dwarves, who she saw as a highly practical race. She introduced each of her friends, in turn, to the dwarf, who named himself Sieblung and said he had come from Clan Ironspur in the Galena Mountains. All of them were polite to the newcomer, save for Gunther, who eyed him suspiciously.
“Your homeland is infested with orcs. Why have you left?” inquired the surly wizard.
The others looked at him in surprise. They could have asked Gunther the same question. Fallon said as much, and Gunther replied that he had left to learn the secrets of the arcane arts, not well known among his people. Fighting, he said, could be learned well enough cleaving through orc skulls at home. The others deflected the topic and turned the conversation to the purpose of their mission and the outcome of their recent journey to the crypts. Fallon asked if Sieblung was still interested, and the dwarf replied that he had no fear of facing the demon. The companions laughed at his naiveté; the thought of meeting Urriligishool again made each of them quake in their boots. Still, they respected his resolve. Only one question remained. Could he actually fight?
“You say you are a warrior,” said Fallon. “Do you think you could best me in a fair contest?”
“We have a dangerous mission. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for decreasing our numbers any further,” boasted the dwarf.
Fallon laughed at his bravado, explaining that she had a simple fencing match – with wooden sticks as weapons — in mind. The first to score five touches would be the winner. Sieblung agreed and the pair arranged to meet outside the city gate at sunup.
Later that evening, Fallon and Ashe were settling in for the night when a heavy knock sounded at their door. The druid rose to answer and found Gunther standing outside. The dwarf invited himself in and said he had a favor to ask of the two women. He explained that, if Merton Pebble came through with the group’s payment, he would finally have enough money to summon his familiar. He explained that calling a familiar was an exacting process from which he could not be disturbed. He asked the ranger and druid if they would consent to serve as guard over him during the 24-hour period the spell required, adding that he had asked them because of their affinity for animals. Both agreed, and Gunther started to leave, but Ashe bid him to stay. The two made eye contact briefly, and then Gunther nodded as Ashe rose and left the room. She returned a moment later with Jonrek in tow, then sat down again on her bed.
All eyes went immediately to the druid, who heaved a heavy sigh.
"With everything that’s happened lately and the amount of Orcus followers we seem to keep running into, I feel I should share something with you all. Do you remember the Greymantle Letters? When Kaelin was alive he and I talked about them a little. He explained what their significance could be and what they perhaps are. He told me they are essentially a detailed documentation that could lead to the city of Mintas Rhelgor. In the fourth letter, the Vanguardier writes after arriving in that city ‘Signs of the demon's influence are pervasive in the city, extending from goat's head sculptures on the facades of stone buildings to frescoes depicting scenes of abominable depravity and cruelty. We could see a building which must have been his temple, but were loath to approach any closer to that vile structure for fear of our very souls.’
“I bring this up because, after discussing this with Gunther earlier, he pointed out something I hadn’t thought of. It seems three students of Feriblan’s — three we know of anyway — were caught up in these letters and/or Orcus in one way or another. It seems more than coincidental that his first student borrowed the letters and attempted to call upon Orcus to become undead, his third student stole the amulet, which was the only key to the location of the letters, and his second student tried to kill us all to get a hold of the letters. Feriblan is either very stupid, which he isn’t, or he is using and discarding his apprentices in order to further his own aims. I am half afraid that Feriblan is an Orcus worshipper himself, or at least looks to gain somehow from all this.
“The reason I asked you all in here is to tell you we haven’t really lost the letters. Prior to giving the authentic letters to Feriblan I made a reproduction of them. At first I was afraid to enlighten any of you for the simple reason what you don’t know can’t hurt you. I’m not sure what made me copy them other than the menacing implication of the letters Kaelin conveyed to me. My intentions were to share these with you when and if we needed them. Being faced with my own mortality I was half convinced we wouldn't make it out of the crypts alive.
“If I should perish in the crypts, you must get these letters from my body. They are in a scroll tube that is, uh, trapped. Just speak the word ‘Shadow’ and you’ll be able to open it safely. If they fell into the wrong hands...well, more wrong than Feriblan’s...then, well I don’t know what would happen, but it undoubtedly would not be good.
“I don’t know if they have any real significance to what we are currently doing but after realizing what they are, I didn’t want us to need them and not have them. Or for me to perish and have them lost to the rest of you."
Fallon snorted. "Feriblan worships no one, unless it be his own bloated sense of self-importance. But you may be right on one point. The man has no morals I've been able to detect. If he felt he somehow stood to gain from the very end of the world itself, I doubt he would flinch from it.
"One thing is certain, if any follower of Orcus ever gets his stinking hands on those letters, we, indeed everyone we know, will suffer for it. I think we've seen evidence enough in our travels that the cult of Orcus is planning something beyond any of the horrors we've yet seen, even under Zhengyi's rule. Though it be a vain sacrifice, I, for one, would lay down my life to thwart this evil. Whatever should happen on our return to the tombs, I pray those of us who return will continue to strive against the designs of the demon lord. His followers may be thugs, but you can't question their resourcefulness. You can bet they'll find a way to Mintas Rhelgor eventually, with or without the letters. When they do, should I have life yet within my bones, I will go there and stand against the abomination that is Orcus, Mielikki lay witness to my words."
Jonrek simply sat in silence, pondering the possible implications of all of this. Once all had promised to do anything in their power to keep the letters from reaching the hands of Orcus’ followers, Gunther and Jonrek returned to their room for some sleep.
The next morning at dawn, Fallon headed to the appointed meeting place. Ashe and Gunther followed, genuinely interested in the spectacle. Jonrek went as well, noting that someone had to act as a fair moderator. Sieblung, who had also procured a room at the White Horse, walked over with them, and the companions enjoyed a pleasant conversation with the newcomer. Soon enough, though, they arrived outside the city gate and each combatant had found an acceptable weapon. Ashe and Gunther each challenged Sieblung to a wager, betting that he could not defeat the battle-proven ranger. Fallon raised an eyebrow at that.
“You would bet against a fellow dwarf?” she asked Gunther.
“I don’t know him. I have seen you fight,” replied the wizard nonchalantly.
When the fight began, both opponents scored touches early on. Fallon was surprised to see how quickly the stocky dwarf could move. Despite her elven dexterity, Sieblung always seemed to anticipate her moves and counter them with lighting quickness. The dwarf clearly had the advantage early on, though Fallon soon caught up and surpassed him. In the end, however, Sieblung pressed the half-elf with an unparalleled ferocity, scoring his fourth and fifth blows in rapid succession just as Fallon was moving in for what she thought would be the final touch. The ranger bowed to the dwarf, easily conceding her loss with a warm smile.
“Welcome to the group,” she said, extending her hand to him.
Ashe and Gunther paid the dwarf five talers apiece, with only minimal grumbling on their part. The group then headed back to the inn, except for Ashe, who stayed outside to continue her work with Darksbane. Gunther spent the morning identifying four more magical items. At noon, Ashe, Fallon, Gunther and Jonrek reconvened for their scheduled appointment with Merton Pebble.
When they arrived at the House of Righteous Rule, the Chief Justice was already waiting for them and bid them politely to enter his office. He told them he and the other clerics believed the group had adequately completed the stated terms of their mission and had therefore earned their payment, which would be provided, in gems, that very day. He said the payment essentially wiped out the church’s financial resources and explained that, if the group intended to return to the tombs, he could offer them no further monetary reward. The companions thanked him and explained that they needed no further payment — save a few scrolls and potions they hoped would help them to defeat the demon. Following the deaths of Hiro, Berthold and Erreth, the mission to scour the tombs of the influence of Orcus and his followers had become personal.
The Chief Justice expressed gratitude for their willingness to go back and vowed to help them in any way he could. He also told them he had spoken with Berthold’s spirit. The fighter did not wish to be brought back to life, but did want the cleric to pass on a message to his friends. Even from the afterlife, Berthold demanded vengeance against Hoobis and his army for the death of his father and the sacking of his home in Hinterford. Because they did not need Berthold’s share of the reward to restore his life, the companions agreed to donate it to St. Sollars’, the hospice where Gisela, the fighter’s mother, would likely spend the remainder of her life.
The companions asked the Chief Justice all the questions they had about the demon, including Fallon’s theory about the poison, but demonology had never been a real interest of the cleric’s and he was unable to help them on most points. He suggested the Royal Library might be of more assistance and gave Jonrek a letter of introduction for both the young cleric and Gunther to use the facility. Following their hunch about the nature of the stench, the companions requested two delay poison potions — one each for the two dwarves, who were unable to cast the spell. They also asked or five align weapon scrolls and as much holy water as the church could spare. Pebble agreed and, before their departure, returned Berthold’s head to them for burial.
The companions then took the head of their friend to the burial ground to be interred next to the bones of his father, each taking a moment to speak a few words for their fallen comrade.
Gunther said simply, "Berthold was a fine warrior, and a true companion. May his cup always be full, his sword always sharp, and his spirit always proud. He died as he lived, with honor!"
Ashe added, “He was a valiant and courageous fighter. He will be a sorely missed element of this group. His life will be remembered by us all. His death shall be avenged.”
“Goodbye, friend,” said Fallon.
“Your courage and fortitude were an inspiration to us all. Our lives are richer for having you in it. May you find your peace.”
The ranger also vowed that, should the rest of Berthold’s body be found, she would reunite his broken form.
After several moments of silence, the group returned to the White Horse to discuss the magic items Gunther had identified. Most of them had only a small enhancement, though the banded mail they took from the wight had a rune of fear inscribed in it. The morningstar they had taken from the cleric of Orcus was an unholy weapon that did extra damage to good people and creatures, while the quiver was a Quiver of Mielikki, a wondrous item that held much more ammunition than it appeared to hold. Fallon claimed the buckler and the quiver, while Jonrek chose the banded mail of fear and the magical longsword he had already been wielding. The cleric gave his bracers of armor to Gunther. Neither Gunther nor Ashe desired any of the weapons. It was agreed that the unholy morningstar would be destroyed, as the previous evil weapon the group encountered had been.
Ashe and Fallon returned to the dwarven craftsmen to sell the remaining items, while Jonrek and Gunther headed over to the royal library. The cleric and wizard found only one book on the subject of demons, which Jonrek perused, finding out little more than he had already learned in the church library. Meanwhile, Gunther found a low-level spellbook and added a few spells to his own book. When the dwarf had finished, he took a look at the book Jonrek had abandoned, but had no better luck than his friend.
Gunther also paid a visit to the newly forming Mages’ Guild in the city to procure the components he needed to summon his familiar. While he was there, the other mages hinted to him that there might be room for him among their ranks. That night, the dwarf approached Lily Langbaum to ask her permission to use his room to summon his familiar. The innkeeper was extremely hesitant at first, especially when he told her that the familiar would be a “little dragon,” but calmed when Gunther promised to pay for any resulting damages.
The following morning, the wizard began his daylong spell, with Ashe posted vigilantly outside his door. Four hours later, Fallon relieved her so the druid could continue her work with Darksbane. Jonrek spent the morning creating holy water to fill Fallon’s half-gallon jugs, while Sieblung nosed around constantly asking what was going on. The ranger summarily shushed the dwarf and promised to explain all later if he would but leave her in peace for the moment.
Gunther emerged a mere 15 hours after he had begun, bearing a tiny red-scaled dragon on his shoulder, who he introduced as Max. He explained that the aloof pseudodragon had cut short the bonding ritual, preferring instead to observe his would-be companion for a few days to evaluate his character. Gunther’s friends had never seen the dwarf so happy. He practically fell all over himself trying to please the little dragon, cooing over him, stroking him, and feeding him sugar lumps and strips of raw meat. Fallon and Ashe, who knew that such creatures lived in their own woodland home and were highly regarded by the fey, were also quite fond of Max and went out of their way to lavish the vain, but goodly, creature with affection.
The remainder of the group’s stay was spent in reprovisioning, requisitioning higher quality weapons and armor, creating enough holy water to fill all nine jugs and waiting for the scrolls and potions promised by Merton Pebble. On the sixth day after she had sent him out, Ashe’s falcon returned. The druid promptly cast speak with animals to ask Kaelin how his journey was. The falcon said he enjoyed his time in Rawlinswood and that the Ashe’s mother was well, then directed his master’s attention to the small, lightweight scroll tube affixed to his talon. Ashe read it, touched by the sight of her mother’s handwriting. The letter bid the elder druid’s daughter love and blessings of the forest and praised her desire to rid the world of the unbalancing presence of the demon. The tube also contained a scroll with two powerful summon nature’s ally spells, the exact spell needed to summon a unicorn.
That night, Gunther was summoned to The Bloodstone Inn, the fanciest restaurant in the city, by the Mages’ Guild. The dwarf was so excited he even took a bath. There was en extra spring in Gunther’s step as a headed for his appointment, with Max contentedly perched on his shoulder. When he arrived, he was met by several of the city’s most prominent mages, who were all duly impressed by the dwarf’s unusual familiar. By the end of the night, they had extended an invitation for him to join their ranks, which Gunther accepted with pride.
By the tenth day, the companions had procured all they needed. Their weapons and special items were all completed and they could prolong their stay no more. In addition to the potions and scrolls they had requested, the church of Tyr provided two vials of holy water for each of them. They also bought about a dozen vials from the church of Ilmater to round out their supply. That night they readied themselves to set out the following morning.
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"Suffering is the touchstone of all spiritual growth."
-St. Sollars the Twice-Martyred |
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Brother Ezra
Learned Scribe
USA
268 Posts |
Posted - 07 Apr 2005 : 11:00:43
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As the gang prepared to leave Heliogabalus, Gunther was struck with an idea. He suggested each of the companions purchase a potion of feather fall and levitation in order to enter and leave the crypts via one of the two sinkholes they found. Doing so would help them to circumvent the area where they met Urriligishool, and possibly avoid meeting him again. The group agreed and, once the potions were procured, they set out.
The trip back up to the Stormhaven Hills was uneventful. The companions stopped for the night at the Grey Goat Inn in Kinbrace, as they had done on their two previous trips. By mid-afternoon the next day the group had reached the two shrines. They left their horses in the Shrine of Torm and headed off in search of one of the sinkholes. Using her keen directional sense, Fallon was easily able to locate one, and soon the companions were floating softly downward through the opening. When they reached the bottom, the group immediately recognized the chamber. They weren’t far from the worked room where they’d battled the strange ruby-eyed skeletons. They decided to go back there to see if their handiwork had been discovered. When they arrived, they found the shattered bones of the skeletons, as well as the rubble that had once been an idol of Orcus, had been cleared away. The room was empty. On further inspection of the caverns, they found that the corpse of the ogre they had killed was gone, too. It seemed clear that some clerics of Orcus were still lurking about, though the explorers had seen no other signs of them.
Before the leaving the ogre’s lair, the group decided someone should climb up to the cavern opening 15 feet above them and take a look around. They had intended to explore the high corridor during their last visit, which had been cut short by their encounter with the demon. Fallon volunteered to climb up first. She removed her heavy pack and scaled the sheer wall with little trouble. At the top, she found a large chamber with several sacks of treasure pushed toward the back. The ranger returned to report her findings, and threw down a rope to Gunther, so the dwarf could look over the cache and determine of any of it was magical. While Fallon rifled through piles of nondescript clothing, Gunther took a shot at opening a small locked chest. He leveled his dwarven waraxe at the wooden box, smashing the lid. Unfortunately, the blow also shattered the contents of the chest: three potions. The dwarf shrugged off the loss and turned his attention to casting a detect magic spell on the rest of the items. One ring found inside a sack of jewelry turned out to be magical, as did a trident from a nearby pile of weapons. Everything else appeared to be valuable, but mundane. The companions agreed the loot was probably better left where it was while they explored the rest of the caverns. There was simply too much of it to carry around with them.
The group continued to explore the caverns they had not reached on their previous visit. As the reached the entrance of one massive chamber, a stalactite dislodged from the ceiling, impaling Sieblung, who was in the lead. Gunther and Jonrek, behind the fighter, immediately reacted, trying to pull the offending projectile out of their friend’s flesh, but even with both of them exerting all of their strength, they could not pull it free. Sieblung could feel that there was something not right about the stalactite. It seemed to be sucking his blood. On a hunch, the dwarf pulled out a dagger and stabbed at the thing. He felt the blade of his weapon sink into soft flesh and knew immediately that this was no normal cave formation. Though he couldn’t remember the exact name of the creature, Sieblung had heard stories of such beasts before. Gunther smiled as he watched the outcome of his fellow dwarf’s attack. He began chanting the words of a scorching ray, blasting the monster and sizzling it to a crisp. Jonrek was then able to easily pull the dead creature from his friend’s flesh.
The companions looked up at the ceiling. Dozens of stalactites hung overhead, and any number of them could have been the well-camouflaged attackers. Not wanting to risk another encounter with the blood-sucking beasts, Fallon took out her bow and proceeded to shoot an arrow at each and every stalactite in the chamber. The majority of her arrows bounced off of solid mineral, but one sunk in. Fallon peppered the apparent monster with arrows until it fell to the cavern floor, and then motioned to her companions to enter. To one side of the chamber there was a murky pool, much like the one they had seen at the entrance room to the catacombs. Gunther walked over to investigate and was taken aback when a massive froglike creature sprang out at him and attacked with its grimy teeth. The wizard, feeling queasy from the effects of what he guessed to be some type of poison, swung at the beast with his waraxe, but missed. Putting into practice a trick Ashe had recently taught him, Darksbane flew up to the frog and grabbed it in his talons, just as Sieblung was leveling a vicious slash at it with his own waraxe. The dire bat flapped his massive wings and was soon hovering above them, with the frog-creature dangling from his grasp. A moment later, the beast was splattered all over the cavern floor, having been dropped from a great height.
As they continued onward, the companions came into a corridor with a heavy door to one side. They tried to open it, but found it was locked. No hinges could be seen on the side, and it appeared someone had taken a great deal of trouble to craft the door to be impenetrable. With his characteristic rashness, Gunther strode up and knocked. The others cringed, but relaxed when nothing happened. The group decided to continue down the corridor and investigate the door later. In a short while, though, the tunnel began to grow smaller and smaller until there was an opening large enough for only a halfling or gnome to fit into. For the first time since they left Heliogabalus, the companions began to wish Brodrick, the “archaeologist,” had decided to return with them. Then Max, Gunther’s pseudodragon cohort volunteered to investigate. The group watched at the little dragon’s blood red tail disappeared into the small opening. After a while, they began to grow nervous for Max, but the pseudodragon eventually returned with reports that the hole was simply a rat lair.
The group turned back and off into another tunnel they had not yet explored. This came out into a large cavern with two sheer cliffs, one going up into another cavern, and one going down into a small pit. Gunther and Ashe volunteered to climb up to the high cave, while Sieblung decided to investigate the pit. Fallon stood at the edge of the sheer drop and held a rope to ease the heavily armored dwarf’s climb. At the bottom, Sieblung found soft earth. He had little time to explore, though, for as soon as he touched down, something huge and insectile began to rise from the dirt. The dwarf wasted no time in working to scramble back out of the pit, but the monster was able to seize him right around the midsection in its huge mandibles, biting down hard. Sieblung kicked out furiously at the beast, and managed to free his leg. Though Fallon tried to speed her companion’s ascent by pulling on the rope, the dwarf and all of his gear were too heavy, and the ranger was forced stand by helplessly, watching as he climbed for his life. As soon as the dwarf had reached the top and, panting, began to run for the other side of the cavern, Fallon dropped the rope and pulled out her bow. She backed up as far as she could, firing an arrow just as the giant insect crested the edge of the pit, emerging right where the ranger had been standing seconds before. The arrow hit with a glancing blow that seemed to do little more than chip the monster’s hard, shiny exoskeleton.
Seeing the commotion from above, Ashe dropped down from the ledge to join her friends, just as Jonrek began casting a spiritual weapon spell. Soon, a glowing longsword appeared in front of the beast and began to attack of its own accord. With unbelievable speed, the creature scuttled up to Fallon, who was pressed against the bottom of the ledge, and snapped at her with its massive pincer-like maw. The wiry half-elf proved too quick for it, though, and the creature found itself grasping only thing air. Gunther, who had been further back into the high cavern than Ashe could hear that something was going on and asked Max to investigate. Dutifully the little dragon flew out and informed his master that an ankheg was attacking. Max asked if Gunther wanted him to attack the monster and the wizard left the decision up to him. Wanting to feel like a useful member of the party, the pseudodragon fluttered down to the cavern floor and attempted to sting the monster with his poisoned tail, but missed. By then, Gunther had reached the edge and began the incantation for a magic missile. Seconds later, the bolts of magical energy flew from the wizard’s outstretched hand and into the giant bug.
Not too far away, but removed from the action, Sieblung slumped against the wall, badly hurt. With eyed blurred from pain, he confusedly inspected the vials in his potion belt for a healing potion. Finding what he was looking for, he downed the warm liquid, but found it wasn’t enough. Blood still flowed freely from beneath his battered armor. In a panic, Ashe began chanting the words of a soften earth and stone spell, but kicked herself almost as soon as the last words escaped her lips. The spell worked well enough, softening the stone beneath the insect’s legs into clay, but the result had no adverse effect on the beast. At the druid’s frustrated bidding, Darksbane flew up and bit the insect. Fallon dropped her bow and pulled out Lucent, her father’s sword, and slashed hard at the creature, wounding it badly. In a rage, the massive insect reared up and spit at its attackers, covering Fallon, Jonrek and Sieblung with a sticky liquid that burned into their skin.
Above them, Gunther had started in on another spell, this time letting fly with a scorching ray. The wave of intense heat enveloped the monster, but did not take it down. Max missed again with his barbed tail, as did Ashe with her magical spear. The weapon sailed right over the beast, slamming had into the Darksbane. The druid cringed, nearly crying at the thought of the pain she’d caused her dire bat companion. The bat seemed to take the blow in stride, however, biting out at the ankheg again, but missing. Jonrek pulled out a morning star and moved in to attack. The vicious spiked ball slammed hard into the beast’s side, cracking its hard flesh. The creature let out a screech of pain, and in frustration bit out at the first target it could see. That target happened to be Max, flying around looking for an opening for his tail to strike. The big bug snapped up the little dragon in its mandibles, and Gunther looked on in stunned horror as his companion hung limply from the beast’s mouth. In a fury, the dwarf leapt from the ledge, drawing his axe with a roar. Just as the angry dwarf was leveling his impressive weapon to attack, though, Jonrek’s disembodied longsword finished the creature off. The ankheg collapsed to the ground, allowing Max to fall from its crushing grasp. Gunther fell to his knees and began rifling through his pack for a healing potion, but before he could find one, Ashe was at the little dragon’s side, touching him with the wand of cure light wounds. Max’s eyes fluttered open, while a grateful Gunther breathed a sigh of relief. In an uncharacteristic display of emotion, the dwarf scooped up the pseudodragon stoked his scales with affection, while Ashe made the rounds with the wand, healing everyone’s scrapes and acid wounds.
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"Suffering is the touchstone of all spiritual growth."
-St. Sollars the Twice-Martyred |
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Brother Ezra
Learned Scribe
USA
268 Posts |
Posted - 08 Apr 2005 : 12:17:43
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After their battle with the ankheg, the companions decided to rest in the high cavern above the ogre’s lair. After a long and peaceful rest disturbed by little more than an errant wind and a few bats, the spellcasters loaded up for another day’s adventuring while Sieblung kept watch.
The group decided to go back to the door they had encountered the day before ad see if they could get around it with one of Ashe’s soften earth and stone spells. Jonrek cast a detect magic spell on the door and found a faint magical aura on both the door and surrounding stone. Ashe then cast her spell well outside of the magical aura, and the companions began scooping away soft clay where there had once been solid stone to create a new doorway next to the locked door. The process took the bulk of the morning. When the companions emerged on the other side of the wall, they found a tiny room with a worked staircase leading down.
Remembering there had been another doorway and an unexplored corridor in the room with the ankheg, they decided to finish their investigation of the current level before taking on the lower levels. When they entered the chamber containing the door, a collection of rats that had been feasting on the ankheg carcass hurriedly scuttled away. The companions found the door unlocked and entered the man-made room to find it filled with several rotting wooden coffins. Spying another door at the far end of the room, Sieblung headed over to investigate, while Gunther slid the top away from one of the coffins. No sooner had the dwarven fighter reached the door than several tiny, shadowy limbs reached out toward him. All around the room, other shadowy figures began emerging from the walls. As they readied their weapons, spells and holy water, the companions noticed something strange about these shadows. They were very small and appeared to be in the shape of some type of four-legged animal. All of the other shadows they had encountered had been humanoid in shape. Before the party members could react, the creatures touched Sieblung, Fallon and Jonrek, draining their strength.
With a weakened, but steady, hand, Jonrek raised his symbol of Tyr and commanded the shadows to be gone, while Gunther began casting a magic missile. Two darts of energy flew from the dwarf’s outstretched hand and immolated a pair of shadows, just as five other shadows retreated back into the wall, away from the imposing presence of the cleric.
Sieblung, Ashe and Fallon all poured holy water over the shadows facing them, and were greeted with the familiar sizzling noise the water made when it touched the vile undead minions the companions had seen so much of in their travels. Soon, the shadow facing Sieblung was the only one left, but it was obviously the toughest. The dwarf removed the stopper from another vial of holy water, but this time, the liquid passed straight through the enemy’s insubstantial form. Jonrek cast a spiritual weapon spell and his signature glowing longsword appeared next to Sieblung. Of its own accord, the sword slashed out and seemed to make contact with the shadow. Ashe ran to the fighter’s side, a vial of holy water in her hand, and splashed the water all over the still outstretched arm of the attacker. This time, the familiar sizzling noise was accompanied by the sight of the arm disappearing.
No sooner had the shadow perished or withdrew — the companions weren’t sure which — than Sieblung gave the door a mighty push and pressed into the room behind it. It was a small room containing a few more decomposing coffins. Further investigation led the group to a store of coins and jewelry, which they loaded into their packs. With the permission of the group, Gunther presented Max the pseudodragon with his choice of one item of jewelry. The little dragon chose a small gold earring. The remaining coffins in both rooms were empty.
The party left the area and explored a few more caverns they had not yet investigated. One grew narrower and narrower until it seemed as though the companions would be unable to continue any further. Just as they were about to turn back, though, they reached the end and wished they had turned back sooner. In a tiny chamber where the adventurers scarcely had room to move, they found more than a dozen dire rats, looking both vicious and hungry. Thinking quickly, Gunther cast a web spell, trapping the massive rats beneath the sticky strands and holding them fast in place. A few members of the group moved forward to finish the creatures off, but Fallon begged them from the course.
“They are just hungry animals, and now they are defenseless. They can do us no more harm. Let’s just leave them where we found them,” said the ranger.
The others reluctantly agreed and the companions turned to finish their exploration.
Nearby, the group came upon another finished room that appeared to have been used as a burial chamber. More rotting wooden coffins lay scattered about. Again, Gunther decided to investigate, and slid the top off of one of the coffins. As he did so, a skeleton began to rise up from inside. Three other skeletons also crawled from some of the other coffins. Before the skeleton next to the dwarven wizard was even on its feet, Gunther unslung his dwarven waraxe and shattered it to smithereens. Likewise, Jonrek and Ashe each destroyed the skeletons nearest to them with little trouble. Just as the cleric dispatched one enemy, a second moved toward him. Doing so proved to be a mistake for the mindless minion, for Jonrek, as able in battle as he was in matters of faith, made short work of the skeleton. When the companions searched the room, they found nothing except for an amulet, bearing a skull insignia, around each of the skeleton's necks. After collecting the amulets, the companions continued to explore.
Believing they had seen all there was to the upper level of the caverns, the companions decide to head back to the hole Ashe created and make their way down to the lower levels. As they passed through the ankheg room, though, Sieblung noticed something he hadn’t seen before. Down in the pit where the massive insect had first attacked was a small passageway. Gunther volunteered to check it out. The dwarf followed a spiraling corridor sharply downward for some time before returning to report his belief that the opening led to the lower levels. The companions conferred briefly before deciding they were better off taking what seemed to be a secret passageway than going down the stairway they’d uncovered earlier. Soon, all five of them were winding their way down the serpentine passage, which eventually emptied out into a massive natural chamber that smelled strongly of decay.
It wasn’t long after the group finished their decent that they discovered the source of the odor. Three horrid creatures resembling 10-foot-long caterpillars with a mass of writhing tentacles at the mouth of each scurried toward the companions. Gunther began casting a mirror image spell, hoping to confuse the creatures. A few arcane words escaped the wizard’s lips, and then four copies of the dwarf appeared between him and the monsters. Jonrek began casting a shield of faith spell, while Sieblung too out his shortbow and shot at one of the beasts, missing. Ashe directed Darksbane to attack, then began the words of a summon nature’s ally Spell. The dire bat, following his master’s direction, bit deeply into one of the creatures while Max, the pseudodragon, attempted, but failed to sting it with his tail. One of the beasts had gotten too close to Fallon for the ranger’s liking. She took a step backward and launched a javelin at it, also missing.
Gunther cast a scorching ray, but had no better luck hitting the creatures than the others. The burst of heat hit one of his mirror images, destroying it. As if in mockery of the wizard’s failed spell, one of the monsters lashed out at him with its wicked tentacles. No sooner had the slimy feeler brushed against his flesh than the dwarf felt his limbs go rigid. Gunther was forced to stand passively by as the creature bit him. A second of the giant crawling beats also bit into the helpless dwarf. The third monster lashed out at Jonrek with its tentacles, but was unable to penetrate the cleric’s heavy armor. To the side, Sieblung began to fumble around in his pack, looking for something. Fallon launched two more javelins at one of the creatures. This time, the ranger’s aim was true, and the weapons sunk deeply into the monster’s flesh. In agony, the beast lashed out, striking Max with one of its tentacles. The pseudodragon, paralyzed, fell with a thump to the ground.
The third creature again attempted to penetrate Jonrek’s defenses with its debilitating poison. This time, the monster’s attack was successful. Jonrek, too, felt the power of movement leaving his limbs. Sieblung, finding what he was looking for, pulled a tanglefoot bag from his pack and launched it at one of the beasts, but missed. Unfazed by all of the chaos around him, Darksbane dutifully bit into another of the creatures. Fallon threw two more javelins, hitting with the first and missing with the other. As the final words of Ashe’s summon nature’s ally spell tumbles from the druid’s mouth, a dire wolf appeared behind one of the creatures and ripped a sizable chunk from it. An instant later, the beast turned at paralyzed the wolf with its poison. Ashe wasted no time in casting another spell, a flaming sphere, which she moved toward one of the beasts, instantly killing it. Another of the creatures moved toward Sieblung, but missed the warrior. Instead, the dwarf chopped into it with his waraxe. Darksbane bit again, as Fallon hurled two more javelins, killing a second beast. Ashe finished off the third with another touch from her flaming orb.
Shortly after the combat ended, Gunther, Max and Jonrek began to move again, much to the relief of their friends, who weren’t really sure how long the poison would affect them. Once they were certain everyone could go on, the companions continued to explore the new level. After a little while, they came upon another large cavern with a thick purple mist obscuring the far end from view. Gunther decided to toss a rock into the mist. Though the companions could hear the rock land, none of them could see more than five feet into the mist. Jonrek cast a light spell on a rock and rolled that into the mist, but it, too, was lost from their sight. In a typical display of impatience, Gunther marched into the mist and soon became invisible to his friends. The dwarf was just beginning to take note of the clammy consistency of the mist when a long bladed weapon materialized and hit him. Gunther cast a shield spell just as the weapon appeared and hit him a second time. Gunther asked Max to pinpoint the attacker for him, and then telepathically inform the others of what was going on. The pseudodragon told his master where the attacker was, enabling Gunther to cast a scorching ray. He then took a step forward and could see the outline of a humanoid figure standing right next to him.
As Gunther continued to struggle against the figure in the mist, the voice of Max rang out in the others’ heads, a feeling none of them were quite used to yet.
“There’s someone in here, and he’s attacking Gunther,” said the little dragon.
The others stepped into the purple haze, hoping there was only one “someone” in there with their friend. The group had taken only a few tentative steps when the bladed weapon slashed out at Fallon. Though companions were all at a loss in the thick fog, Darksbane was able to use his blindsense to target the enemy with little trouble. The dire bat swooped in and bit deeply into the attacker. The companions heard a groan and a thud. When none of them were attacked again by the polearm, they realized Ashe’s companion had finished the figure off. Feeling around for the body, Ashe took hold of the enemy and pulled him out of the mist. There, the companions could see it was a zombie. A search of the corpse revealed nothing more than a colony of maggots that had made their home in the zombie’s abdomen. Disgusted, but none the worse for wear, the adventurers continued on their way.
After so many encounters, the companions wanted to find somewhere defensible where they could rest for the night. After a short while, they can upon a narrow corridor that seemed perfect. There was a small space in the middle that widened somewhat, allowing the party to stand two abreast, while any potential enemies would be forced to fight them one at a time. The plan would have worked well for any human-sized or larger targets. Unfortunately, not all hostile beings in the caverns fell into one of those categories. A few hours into their rest, during Fallon’s watch, the ranger began to hear an insectile buzzing sound approaching. She lit a torch and woke her companions, just a swarm of stirges filled the corridor.
One of the tiny batlike creatures latched onto Fallon and began to burrow its sharp stinger into her flesh to suck her blood. Fallon swiped at the creature with her dagger, but missed, hitting one of the studs in her armor instead. At the far end of the corridor, Ashe began intoning the words of a call lighting spell. Jonrek shot at the creatures with his crossbow, but missed. Gunther cast mage hand and used the spell to pluck his bedroll from the ground and send it sailing at the stirges in the hopes of entangling them. Each and every one of the nimble creatures was able to avoid the dwarf’s snare, however. A second stirge attached to Fallon, and two others attempted, but failed, to latch onto the lithe ranger. The others filed past. Four of the vicious little monsters clung to Jonrek and buried their stingers into him, and two more managed to attach to Gunther. Max, perched on the wizard’s shoulder, managed to put a third stirge to sleep with his poisoned tail before it could reach the wizard. Darksbane, who had been hanging from the ceiling at the entrance to the corridor, dropped down and snatched one of the little creatures up, eating it in one bite. An instant later, Ashe called a bolt of lightning down upon the last unattached stirge, killing it instantly.
One her second try, Fallon managed to kill one of the stirges attached to her. She felt sick as its stinger slid out of her and the little creature fell to the floor. Jonrek pulled one of the stirges out of his skin and struggled to kill it before the other three drained him of his blood. Gunther attempted to pull one of his stirges off, but its grip was too tight. Fallon swiped at the second stirge with her dagger, but missed again, while Jonrek slammed the little creature in his hand against the wall, attempting in vain to kill it. Gunther continued to tug at the stirge attached to him, but could not get it to release its hold. While the wizard struggled with the stubborn creature, Max stung the other one, sending it siding to the floor, asleep. Ashe watched in horror as color drained from Jonrek’s face. The druid knew the three stirges attached to him would son drain away all of his blood. Tears filled her eyes as she realized what she had to do to save her friend.
“I’m so sorry Jonrek,” she cried out as she called a bolt of lightning down upon him.
A jolt of electricity filled the cleric’s body, leaving him stunned and in pain. More importantly, though, all four stirges — the three buried in Jonrek’s skin and the squirming one in his hand — fell to the floor dead. Realizing Ashe had indeed saved his life, the cleric looked back at her and nodded weakly. The druid composed herself quickly and moved to help Fallon. Before Ashe arrived at her side, though, the ranger sunk her dagger into the last stirge still attached to her and watched dumbly as it joined its companions on the ground. As soon she realized she was safe, the half-elf slumped against the wall, pallid. She had taken some hits in the earlier battles, and the blood she lost to the two stirges had significantly weakened her. Nearby, Gunther, was finally able to pull out the stirge he had been wrestling with, but it wriggled out of the dwarf’s grasp and began to flutter around, looking for a new victim. Jonrek made short work of the creature, though, impaling it on his longsword with an angry sneer. While the cleric used up one of his last spells of the day to heal himself, Ashe tended to Fallon with the group’s cure light wounds wand. Gunther busied himself by stepping on the pair of stirges that lay sleeping from the effects of Max’s poison.
After Ashe made certain everyone was healed of their wounds, the companions went back to sleep. Though they had been healed of their injuries, several of the companions were weakened in one way or another from either loss of blood or strength from both the stirges and the shadows they had faced earlier. Jonrek would need to expend some restoration spells in the morning, but even then the companions would not be back to their usual strength.
Because she was unscathed from the stirge attack, the druid took the next watch with Darksbane. Not long into their watch, the dire bat let out a screech. Ashe lit a torch to see another trio of the huge caterpillar-like creatures moving toward her. Darksbane wasted no time in attacking the monsters while the druid woke the others. The first to his feet, Jonrek fired off a shot with his crossbow, but missed. Once her companions were awake, Ashe hurried back to her animal companion and cast magic fang on him. Despite the spell, the bat’s next attack missed. Jonrek shot again and missed as Ashe began casing a produce flame spell. When the fire formed in her hand, the druid tossed a ball of flame at one of the monsters, but missed as well. Gunther cast a web spell, trapping the beasts beneath a collection of sticky strands. Once the creatures’ writing motion was stilled, Darksbane was able to take another bite, killing one of the beasts. Jonrek, too, was able to hit one of the monsters with a shot from his crossbow, while Ashe tossed another ball of flame, hitting one of the beasts. Sieblung, not wanting to get caught in Gunther’s web, dropped his axe and moved up to shoot one of them with his shortbow. Jonrek landed another hit with his crossbow, dropping that one dead, and Ashe threw another ball of flame into the web. The flames spread, and though they obviously caused the last trapped monster some pain, they also burned away at the threads of the web, enabling it to break free. Sieblung and Jonrek both shot at the creature and missed. Frustrated, Gunther charged through the flames and finished the beast off with his axe, suffering a few minor burns in the process.
The companions looked from the dead monsters to one another with dark circles under their eyes. It was obvious they had not chosen the best place to rest. Resignedly, they climbed back up the spiraling tunnel to the upper level and made their way to the ogre’s lair with the high cave where they had spent the previous evening. Because so many of them had been so weakened, they decided to spend three days recovering. During that time, Jonrek trained with his greatsword, while Gunther scribed a few new spells into his spellbook. The wizard also completed his bonding ritual with Max, formalizing his familiar agreement with the pseudodragon. Ashe took the opportunity to get some sunlight by transforming into an eagle and flying out of one of the sinkholes to check on the horses. When the druid arrived at the shrines, though, the horses were gone. Flying in for a closer look, she found some blood where they had been. It appeared the horses had tried fight off whoever had taken then, just as they’d been trained to do. Ashe hoped the blood belonged to the clerics of Orcus and not to the poor animals. Still in eagle form, the druid flew around the compound looking for Kaelin, her pet falcon. Though he was initially frightened by the larger bird, Kaelin came to Ashe when she explained who she was. The falcon told her the horses had been led away into the crypts. The druid returned and told her companions of their mounts’ fate.
Still awake from her exhilarating flight, Ashe volunteered for the next watch. Sitting in pitch blackness—their torches had run out long ago—she heard a familiar and unpleasant sound. She called Gunther over form where he was studying his spellbook. With his keen darkvision, the dwarf could make out a trio of stirges flying toward them. The wizard began the words of a new spell for him; fireball. His companions were all impressed as a blinding burst of flame filled the cavern ahead of them, charring the three stirges to ashes. A few hours later, six more stirges entered the cavern to meet the same disastrous fate. Near dawn on the final morning of the companions’ stay in the ogre’s lair, Fallon’s watch was interrupted by a single stirge. The creature attached itself to the ranger before Gunther could dispatch it, but the wizard soon cast a magic missile, killing it before it could suck any of Fallon’s blood. A few hours later, when Ashe and Jonrek could prepare their spells, the companions set out once again, glad to be parted from their cramped quarters.
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"Suffering is the touchstone of all spiritual growth."
-St. Sollars the Twice-Martyred |
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elven_songstress
Learned Scribe
126 Posts |
Posted - 19 Aug 2005 : 06:29:38
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| Very wonderful story so far...^_^ I enjoy reading these and Fallon write very well. |
We need to be reminded sometimes that a sunrise lasts but a few minutes,but its beauty can burnin our hearts eternally." |
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Brother Ezra
Learned Scribe
USA
268 Posts |
Posted - 04 Dec 2005 : 03:54:48
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The companions all managed to climb down from their hiding place with little difficulty. They decided to make for the stairway they found behind the wall Ashe had helped them tunnel through. After spending close to five days underground, they were out of natural light sources and would be forced to rely on the few minutes of light Jonrek and Ashe could call up magically. Realizing they’d need to save those spells for any combat they faced, the group opted to make a chain and rely on Gunther and Sieblung’s darkvision to guide them. They didn’t get very far before Gunther halted them, telling them to be very quiet. Soon, all of them could hear voices nearby. One of the voices seemed to be casting a spell. Jonrek cast a light spell on his shield, but the companions still could not see where the voices were coming from. After a moment, the cleric told his friends he recognized the spell. It was protection from good. Gunther sent Max to investigate, but decided to go along and see for himself.
Jonrek, too, began moving toward the sounds. Ashe cast magic fang on Darksbane and followed, with the bat in tow. Fallon cast longstrider on herself and followed, too. As they drew closer, the companions could see torchlight illuminating the tunnel they dug into the small room with the staircase. Gunther began to see human-shaped shadows in the light. Before he could react, two forms appeared from the makeshift doorway and moved toward him. One cast a spell. The wizard recognized it as cause fear, but was too late to avoid the effects. The spell had little effect on Gunther’s dwarven resolve, though. It left him only slightly shaken, but still determined to face the foe. A third figure entered the corridor. Jonrek began digging through his pack for a scroll, while Ashe cast a flare spell to befuddle the approaching enemy. Just as the flare erupted, a fourth figure emerged and cast hold person at Gunther. The wizard felt his muscles go rigid and began cursing angrily in his mind. Max scolded him for his language, and then stung one of the clerics with his tail. The man slapped angrily at the pinch in his neck, but did not go to sleep. He swung his mace at the little dragon, but Max was able to dart out of the way. Darksbane flew over the dwarf’s head and bit the first cleric, ripping away an impressive chunk of flesh. Behind him, the opponent that was stung by Max retreated into the little room. The companions could hear the sound of his chain armor growing fainter and fainter as he disappeared down the stairs.
Ashe cast flaming sphere and sent her magical ball of flame at the last of the clerics to have entered the corridor. One of the clerics cast cause fear on Fallon, who was now standing next to a paralyzed Gunther and preparing to pull a javelin from her Quiver of Mielikki. The spell made the ranger’s stomach feel queasy, but she, too, stood her ground. The ranger launched two javelins at the cleric closest to her, but, feeling unsteady from the effects of the spell, she missed with both. Darksbane the bat had better luck. He sunk his fangs once again into the front cleric, and the man collapsed into a bloody heap on the ground. Behind him, one of the clerics began casting a spell. When he reached the crescendo of his casting, though, nothing happened. With a look of horror, he cried out “My spells are having no effect,” and fled back to the opening in the wall. Sieblung, now at the front of the line, hit the man with his war axe as he withdrew. The other cleric stepped forward and reached out to touch Jonrek, but was not able to lock in on the half-elf. Sieblung, with no one else to attack, took out his shortbow and shot at the fleeing cleric, but missed. The cleric, now, trembling, held out his symbol of Orcus and cried out “In the name of Orcus, I banish you.” A look of annoyance passed over the other cleric’s face and he turned to regard his partner. “What are you doing? They’re not undead,” he snapped. As he did so, Both Jonrek and Ashe hit the man, Jonrek with his sword, and Ashe with her flaming sphere. The cleric remained standing, however, and regarded the companions with unveiled malice. The expression turned blank, though, when Max buried his tail barb in the cleric’s flesh and sent him tumbling into a deep sleep.
The last remaining cleric looked down in terror, and when Fallon charged at him, he called out “Please, don’t kill me!” At a loss, the ranger left her sword sheathed and clocked the cowering enemy with a vicious punch in the face before commanding him to throw down his weapons. The man obliged, all the while groveling and begging the companions not to kill him. Fallon tied up the pathetic cleric while Gunther and Jonrek tied the other two back to back. Jonrek then healed the one Darksbane had bitten. The man was still alive, but only barely. The companions questioned the conscious cleric, who said his name was Donnell. He told them he had joined the cult of Orcus several months earlier, but had lost his faith and just wanted to go home to Heliogabalus. He offered to tell the companions anything they wanted to know if they would just get him out of the crypts. While they spoke, the cleric who had been poisoned by Max woke up.
“Shut up, you fool, or we’ll sacrifice you.” he commanded his terrified colleague.
“No one is going to sacrifice anyone,” spat Gunther. The dwarf slammed cleric in the back of the head with the flat of his axe, send him back into unconsciousness.
Realizing the escaped cleric had probably gone to get reinforcements, the companions decided to truncate their conversation with the would-be deserter and take the three prisoners to Heliogabalus for questioning and trial. With as much speed as possible, the companions dragged the unconscious clerics back to the sinkhole they had used to renter the caverns. The third walked along willingly. Fallon and Gunther drank their levitation potions and rose up to the surface. Below, Ashe instructed Darksbane to fly each of the prisoners up one at a time. Jonrek and Sieblung then levitated up, with Ashe following in eagle form. On the surface, the companions stripped each of the prisoners of weapons and armor before tying them back up. Ashe transformed into a pony, and one of the men was placed across her back. Sieblung and Jonrek carried the other man between them, and the companions headed back to Kinbrace. They faced no impediments on their journey, which took them well into the afternoon, thanks to the theft of their mounts and the dead weight of the two comatose clerics.
Along the way, Donnell continued to answer the companion's many questions about the cult of Orcus and its reasons for being in the catacombs. When they finally arrived at Kinbrace, the companions asked where the Temple of Tyr was. Their plan was for Jonrek to borrow some horses to get them back to Heliogabalus. At the temple, which also served as the Soravia’s official court, Jonrek and Fallon went inside, while the others stayed out with the prisoners. Jonrek asked for the Holy Justice, and when he was taken to her introduced himself and explained his mission and his situation. The priest, whose name was Lana Kingsley, assured Jonrek she would be happy to procure as many horses as the party needed, then added that Duke Olwen Forest-Friend had heard about the group’s mission and was anxious to meet them. She sent one messenger to inform the duke of the companions’ arrival and another to round up some horses and a wagon. The two half-elves looked at each other a bit nervously, not eager to have their journey interrupted, but also flattered that an associate of Gareth Dragonsbane would be interested in meeting them. A few minutes later, a middle-aged man with long hair, wearing simple clothes, approached the two friends. He introduced himself as Duke Forest Friend and asked if they were with the party who had gone to clear out the tombs. Fallon said they were ad led the duke out to meet the others. Ashe transformed from a pony into her usual form.
At first, the duke was exceedingly friendly. He told the companions he has a matter he wished to discuss with them, and invited them to dinner at his manor. He offered to polish their armor and weapons and provide them with baths and fresh clothes. Jonrek politely explained that the group had prisoners they were eager to get back to Heliogabalus. Duke Olwen said they were welcome to leave the prisoners in Kinbrace’s dungeons for the night and take them away in the morning. After conferring with one another, the companions decided to accept the duke’s offer, but to take turns guarding the prisoners throughout the night. The duke’s demeanor began to change then. He told the companions he had more experience dealing with the cult of Orcus than they had, and gave his word of honor that the prisoners would be secure. Gunther and Jonrek held their ground, however, to the point of refusing and outright order from the duke to accompany him back to his home. At that, the duke, whose cheeks and ears were now bright scarlet, declared that the companions were not the kind of people he wanted to have in his home, after all. He turned on his heel, curtly asked the nearby justices to continue seeing to the party’s needs, and stormed off, leaving the companions in uncomfortable silence.
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"Suffering is the touchstone of all spiritual growth."
-St. Sollars the Twice-Martyred |
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Brother Ezra
Learned Scribe
USA
268 Posts |
Posted - 04 Dec 2005 : 04:00:45
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A distillation of the information gained by the party from the captive cleric Donnell, during their return to Kinbrace:
What we learned from Donnell (in no particular order):
1) There are approximately 25 clerics of Orcus using the caves as a temple.
2) They are looking for something called the “Black Monolith” that will allegedly help them achieve their goal of taking over Damara – and, eventually, the world – by unleashing some especially powerful demons.
3) There are at least twice as many troglodytes living in a pit below the clerics. They also want the monolith.
4) There is reportedly a female drow wandering the lower levels of the dungeon. Her intentions are unclear, but she is no friend of the cult of Orcus.
5) Helping the clerics are 4-6 ogre guards, an undisclosed number of mercenaries and a legion of undead. They also have the ability to summon several different demons.
6) Small bands of the lower-ranking clerics often leave the lower levels and go outside and hunt for food, check on the shrines and capture sacrifices.
7) We have a map of the cult’s compound (in Ashe’s possession).
8) The red rune at the back of the area with the well of bones is what summons Urriligishool if anyone of good alignment goes near it. It is a doorway that leads into the compound. It can only be opened by a true follower of Orcus.
9) Other than the door Urriligishool guards and the stairway we tunneled to, there are various secret ways into the compound through the lower levels.
10) There are sacrifices to Orcus daily. What time is unknown.
People Donnell mentioned:
Balcoth: Some type of undead creature. A free-agent. The priests weren’t sure what he is, but they want an alliance with him.
Bazrag: Female orc cleric/necromancer.
“The Bitch”: What the clerics call the drow.
Koraashag: High priest of Orcus.
Mazarbul: A human in charge of the lower-ranking priests.
Sydlimbrar: Demonologist.
Staurauth: Half-orc cleric/necromancer.
Tavik: Orc cleric we’ve met before with an unsettling ability to implode when he’s supposed to die.
Unnamed goblin with a wolf companion: One of the mercenaries.
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"Suffering is the touchstone of all spiritual growth."
-St. Sollars the Twice-Martyred |
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Brother Ezra
Learned Scribe
USA
268 Posts |
Posted - 04 Dec 2005 : 04:33:29
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Having received nothing more than encouragement from Duke Olwen, the group slept the night at the Gray Goat Inn, and departed Kinbrace the following morning, bound once again to take on the burial crypts. During the half-day journey to the Valley of the Shrines, the group discussed the possibility of engaging in guerilla tactics in order to deplete the cultist’s forces, but in the end decided to descend via one of the sinkholes that led to the first dungeon level and explore some of the middle caverns that had been mentioned by the captive cultist Donnell.
Using the potions of feather fall they had purchased in Heliogabalus, Gunther led the way and floated down the sinkhole shaft. About halfway down, his eyes were drawn to the sinkhole wall, where arcane sigils had been recently scrawled, resembling those found in the shrines of Tyr and Torm. Before he could react, his body descended to the level of the runes, and a bright flash of light burst from the mark. Quickly checking for damage, Gunther found no injuries or untoward lingering aftereffects, shrugged, and continued to float downward.
Once gathered on the dungeon floor, the group made their way to a staircase not previously explored. Descending down perhaps 450 feet below the surface, the group entered a large natural cavern at the bottom of the stairs. Their attention was caught by a humanoid figure, dimly lit by the flickering torchlight, standing rigidly still. Cautiously, the group approached nearer, to discover that the figure was a detailed stone statue of a human wearing leather armor, holding a lantern aloft in one hand and a longsword in the other. Its head was turned at an angle, appearing to be gazing towards a side tunnel to the south of the cavern. The expression on the carving’s face was disquieting for two reasons: The detail of the carving was exquisite, rivaling anything either of the two dwarven party members had ever seen. Secondly, the expression on the statue’s face seemed to register slight surprise and anxiety.
On a hunch, the group gazed at the statue’s feet, finding that they rested on no pedestal, nor did they seem to be carved from some pre-existent stalagmite. Grimly surmising that this was no statue at all, but rather a former human petrified by some fell creature, the group tore several sacks into thin strips of cloth and bound them around their foreheads, ready to slip them over their eyes should they encounter the stony gaze of the unknown creature. Many of the group mentioned the possibility of the legendary medusa, but the dwarves reminded them that there were other subterranean creatures capable of turning men to stone, such as the cockatrice and the basilisk.
In his typically unpredictable fashion, Sieblung grew bored with the inspection of the petrified human, and wandered to the western end of the cavern. As he glanced at the western wall, looking for unusual stonework, he heard the sound of flapping wings descending upon him from above. Being taken by surprise, he only had time to glance upwards and see several huge, bat-like creatures bearing down upon him. As each one swooped by him, they took a large bite of flesh from him, one after another, dropping Sieblung to the ground in a haze of pain and shock. Circling around the vast cavern, the bat-creatures aimed for the rest of the group, who were hurriedly drawing weapons and preparing spells. As the lead creature drew near, it let out an ear-shattering screech, stunning many of the group. Jonrek shook off the sonic attack and cast a spiritual weapon spell. Ashe’s companion Darksbane also seemed unaffected by the piercing wail of the creatures, and flew to intercept the nearest one.
Gradually, the effects of the screeching wore off, and the group engaged the creatures. Jonrek left the battle and rushed to Sieblung’s side, casting a curing spell to aid in his recovery. Ashe began chanting the incantation to call lightning from the sky. Fallon notched arrows and scored several hits against the bats. Gunther first found an opportune moment in which to launch a fireball, striking all of the creatures in the area of effect without endangering any of the group. A magic missile further weakened the wounded beasts. Broderick found an opening in the creature’s defenses, and hurled a dagger into the soft tissue between its wing and torso. Darksbane was particularly effective in combat against his opponents. One by one, the bat-creatures fell before the first bolt of Ashe’s lightning could even be coaxed from the heavens.
Jonrek healed Sieblung’s wounds, and the group continued through the tunnel to the south. They descended a rough-hewn stone stairway, finding the tunnel branched east and west. Abruptly, they decided to turn around and retrace their steps, making their way back to the caverns where they fought the carrion crawlers and stirges a few days earlier. They ascended to the first level of caves, and then took another tunnel leading downward.
At the bottom of this downward-sloping tunnel, an unusual bit of stonework on the western wall of the natural cave caught Gunther’s attention. Before he had time to investigate further, the rest of the group began climbing a ledge to the north of the cavern, seeking to reach a ledge some 15 feet above them. Upon reaching the top of the ledge, the group found that it was actually a five-foot-wide walkway, leading both east and west into dark tunnels. To the north of the narrow ledge, the wall dropped another 15 feet, leading to another section of caves. The group decided to explore the tunnel to the east.
They ascended a small flight of steps, and the tunnel opened up into a small natural cavern roughly 20’ by 40’. Two tunnels exited the chamber, one to the east and one to the south. Both exits were draped with silky wet strands of thick webs, obviously made by some type of arachnid creature. Ashe began to plead with the group to turn around and explore some other cave, exposing for the first time a deep-seated fear of spiders. Gunther was undaunted, however, and began to burn away the webbing blocking the southern exit. The webs were thick and sticky, requiring prolonged exposure to flame before withering.
Gunther was making good progress in burning away the webs, but before he could clear the entire passage, the creator of the webs appeared at the far end of the southern passage, and deftly navigated it’s way towards Gunther. It was certainly some type of spider, with light gray coloring and mottled bluish-gray splotches. It was as large as a small horse. Belying its bulky size, the creature surged forward and bit into Gunther’s arm. Immediately, he a wave of nausea and dizziness overcome him. Staggering backward, he watched as the rest of the group began to attack the oncoming spider. Gunther drew his battle axe and swiped at the arachnid, then stepped away from the creature to allow room for one of his companions to attack.
Sieblung stepped forward, and hefting his dwarven war axe over his head, buried the blade so deeply in the creature’s torso that the blade could no longer be seen. Gouts of ichor splashed from the mighty wound, the creature twitched briefly, and then expired.
Simultaneously, the group saw Gunther draw rigid and grasp at his chest, a rictus of agony stretched across his face. He collapsed and lay still on the ground. Rushing to his side, the group searched for a pulse, a heartbeat, or any sign that the courageous dwarf might still live, but they found none. The spider must have injected some virulent poison into his bloodstream that killed him in a matter of seconds. Suddenly, Max, Gunther’s pseudodragon familiar, let out a bleat of pain, and also fell to the ground, struck dead by his master’s demise and the sudden severance of their powerful magic bond.
Finding themselves once again bested by the denizens of the tombs, the group retreated back to the side cavern where they had stored their accumulated, only to find another ogre guarding the cave. Annoyed by this further obstacle, the group wasted no time in besting the stupid creature, which proved no match for their strength. Gathering their coins and trinkets, the group gathered at the bottom of the sinkhole, quaffed their potions of levitation, and returned to the surface world, hoping to return to Heliogabalus and raise Gunther from the dead.
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"Suffering is the touchstone of all spiritual growth."
-St. Sollars the Twice-Martyred |
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Shards of Bloodstone
