|Sir Adolphus Ministhrien|
Oh... oops. A falchion is a two-handed weapon? Thought it was a one-handed for some reason. A large one-handed weapon can be wielded as a medium two-handed...
Edit: Ah, I see my confusion. In real life a falchion is a one-handed sword... In the core rules its two-handed. Alright, leaving the falchion, carrying on.
"Well, now that the filthy work is done, let us hasten back to the temple and see if Dorian might yet be saved."
Valamont then turns to regard his scabbarded sword as they begin making their way back to the lift, What? Yes, I know full well what I smell like now, thankyouverymuch. He pauses for a second, his brow furrowing, Ouch, mother - that was cruel! Cleverly worded, but cruel. Do you realize that you get poetic when you're being mean?
The party withdraws from the dungeon with Dorian's corpse in tow. When you arrive back in Ghelve's shop, he greets you with a smile, but frantically waves you back when he spots the body. While you wait in the back room, you hear him deliver a spiel about his locks to a customer - there's plenty of lines like "nobody makes them better than me," and "don't think about the cost of the lock, think about how much money you'll save when you don't get burglarized." Eventually, he completes the sale and comes into the back room.
Keygan avoids looking at Dorian's bloody corpse, seemingly unnerved by it. "Ahem. While I appreciate what you've done for me, and I'm saddened by your friend's death, may I hope that you will not make it a habit of dragging dead bodies through my business? At least not in the light of day? Can you imagine the rumors that would start about me if a customer saw that?"
With a little bit of conniving, you manage to extricate Dorian's body from Ghelve's shop with nobody the wiser, and proceed to the church of Iomedae. You receive a few odd looks, but nothing too worrisome – Cauldron’s long been a city welcoming to adventurers, and dead bodies being carried by formidable-looking folk isn’t that out of the ordinary.
When you arrive at the church, an acolyte welcomes you. She looks at Dorian and her face blanches. ”Isn’t that Dorian Cavendish? He’s been here almost every night holed up in our libraries. What happened?” Without waiting for a response, she stammers, ”Never mind. I’ll…I’ll go get Jenya. Please, wait in that room over there.”
The acolyte hurries away. A few moments after you settle into the room indicated, the door opens and Jenya enters. She looks tired, but the core of determination you saw before is clearly still present. She sighs when she sees Dorian. ”I was hoping young Atria mistook a grievous wound for death. I grieve for young Dorian – though he did not seem receptive to Iomedae’s light, his heart was in the right place.” She casts an appraising look at each of you. ”Ah, I see. Your grief is tempered by hope. Hope that Dorian is yet to be judged by Pharasma and that can he be returned to life.”
Jenya sighs heavily and sits in a heavy wooden chair. Her thoughts seem to turn inward, leaving the room in silence for a few minutes. Eventually, she sighs again. ”I cannot help but feel responsible for this. After all, I sent you on this mission. If not for me, perhaps Dorian would have lived a long life. Still, the cost of reuniting a soul with its body is costly. With the Flood Festival coming soon, and the funds I have promised you already, the church’s resources are stretched thin already.” Jenya lapses into a brooding silence once again.
Need some roleplaying here to help Jenya with her decision.
"If my portion of the promised reward will help ease the burden, then by all means, Jenya - keep it. And if there is anything else I might do to help lessen the burden in preparing for the Flood Festival, then you have but to ask." Valamont hesitates a moment then, raking his left hand sheepishly through his thick black hair, inadvertantly revealing his pointed ears as he does so. "I never agreed to this to make a profit, but to help those in need. And if Dorian here is willing to lay his life down to save the children, how can I not be willing to lay down a few paltry coins?"
|Sir Adolphus Ministhrien|
"And I likewise," says Darthal. "You saw in him the seed of a hero, and I believe that he needs more time to sprout. As my clan permits, I will aid you in the Flood Festival preparations, and in what other fieldas you ask, so long as it be not against my honor or my clan. If there is aught lacking in your reckoning, let us use some of the treasure he died recovering."
What do we know about the Flood Festival?
Refer to this post for what you know about the Flood Festival. If you've already rolled a Knowledge check on it, you cannot roll another.
Jenya smiles warmly at Valamont's words, and your comradeship seems to ease her worries. "Iomedae appreciates your loyalty to Dorian. I will pray for him on the morrow to see if his soul can yet be reunited with his body."
”As for helping during the Flood Festival, I am unsure if there is aught you can do. The other temples seem to have abandoned their duties, especially the Cathedral of Pharasma. It has fallen on us to shoulder the burden; with Sarcern away, it has proven all the more difficult. But that is a worry for another day. Let us focus now on poor Dorian.”
Feel free to add any activities you wish to do during the day.
The next day, you arrive at the Church of Iomedae to find Dorian's body lying in state on the altar. Lit candles encircle the body, and the heady smell of incense fills the room. Jenya, dressed in a robe of purest white, her face obscured by a deep hood, kneels next the the altar, holding one of Dorian's hands.
Atria, the same acolyte that welcomed you yesterday, guides each of you to a prepared spot, so that you stand equidistant from each other, in a circle around the altar. She puts a finger to her lips, asking for silence.
Once all of you are in place, Jenya stands and pulls back her hood. She turns and faces each of you, her eyes meeting yours for a moment before moving to the next. A sense of deep contentment radiates from her.
Jenya pulls a diamond out from her robe, its purity catching the shimmering lights from the candles and reflecting them throughout the room, creating the appearance of stars twinkling along the walls, floor, and ceiling. She pulls her hood back on and places the diamond on Dorian’s chest just above the heart. Kneeling again, she begins praying to Iomedae, her voice rising and falling in a plea to the Inheritor to find Dorian’s soul and allow it to return to his body.
As she chants, a nimbus of light collects around the diamond, and a palpable sense of holiness fills the chamber. The light grows brighter by the second. By the time Jenya’s chant ends with a powerful call to Dorian’s soul, it is nearly blinding in its intensity. As Jenya’s final words echo through the chamber, a powerful burst of force explodes from the diamond, extinguishing the light and candles, flinging them around the room. Everybody in the room is forced to look away from the source.
The line moves forward a step, and as you follow, a nimbus of light surrounds you, and a powerful voice calls your name. You recognize the voice – it is Jenya Urikas, cleric of Iomedae, a powerful force for law and good in the world. A tug at your essence follows the call. You are being given a chance to return to life! All you need do is accept it, allow the power of Iomedae to envelop you, and you will return to the world of the living.
The rest of the post assumes you return.
Since you had Raise Dead cast on you, you have 1 permanent negative level and 1 Constitution drain. The only way to remove these is by a Restoration or Greater Restoration spell. The Con drain can be removed by the Restoration spell and 100 gp worth of diamond dust, but the negative level requires 1,000 gp of diamond dust. Removing the negative level would also remove the Con drain.
When you look back to the altar, Dorian is sitting up, his hands moving experimentally to touch his face, arms, and chest. A look of wonder resides on his face. There is no sight of the diamond that once rested on his chest.
Jenya looks tired but pleased. She pats Dorian's hand gently and says, "It is good to see you back with us," before nodding to the rest of you and slowly walking into a back room.
I’m not quite sure what the party was offering to Jenya to help the temple offset the cost of the Raise Dead spell. It cost the temple a 5,000 gp diamond. Valamont offered his share of the reward for bringing justice to the kidnappers (the total sum of the reward is 2,500 gp, so Valamont’s share is 416 gp, 6 sp, 7 cp). Diurn offered his share of the money found in Xukasus’s chest. The treasure from the chest equaled 484 gp, 7 sp, so his share is 80 gp, 7 sp, 8 cp.
That’s a total of 497 gp, 4 sp, 5 cp offered. Let me know if you are contributing anything else, and exactly what it is.
"Hey man, it's all for the kids. Right! I'll need to keep fifty for personal expenses. Use the rest of my share for the cost of that big damned diamond you used in the ritual."
Diurn visits his mother and explains his situation. She may contribute to this charitable cause.
Maybe mom has some wealth. Though I do know she never cared much about accumulating money.
Dorian frowns as he feels a force pulling him from the realm of the dead. They... found a way to bring me back? Why would they do this for someone they hardly knew? Momentarily confused, Dorian decides that he is willing to return to life. At the very least, I must repay this debt... Then nothingness.
Dorian calmly opens his eyes and sits up, finding himself on an altar. He carefully touches his face and body, as if to make sure everything is real. After Jenya leaves, he looks at his companions.
"I... don't know what to say. Unless you found a veritable treasure hoard, I am greatly in your debt. Still, you have my utmost gratitude. I will do everything I can to repay your kindness."
He winces as he stands, nearly falling before catching himself on the altar. "What happened after... I died?" he finds saying those words difficult. "Are the children safe? Did you find any clues as to what's happening?"
1-50 = lost
1d100 ⇒ 17
1d100 ⇒ 17
1d100 ⇒ 67
1d100 ⇒ 29
1d100 ⇒ 72
1d100 ⇒ 86
|Sir Adolphus Ministhrien|
Adolphus will ask the Vanderborens if they can spare some wealth to resurrect an important wizard involved in a quest of noble integrity.
"I am sure that if others know of your generosity, your prestige will only rise in the city."
Let me know if you want me to make a Diplomacy check.
No, no further sign of the children. That ogre pressed us past our limit - any other surprises like that and without you with us we'd likely never even find them. Nethys knows if we'll be in time or not, but we'll venture down once more with tomorrow's dawn. He hesitates then for a second, glancing to his sword briefly.
"With the rest of the day before us, Dorian, perhaps it might behoove us if you and I were to compare notes? I know a particularly useful abjuration that you might like to have on hand as well."
Diurn Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19 * 5 = 95
Adolphus Diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (18) + 8 = 26
Todd Diplomacy: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14
(26 - 14) * 10 * 3 / 2 = 180
As always seems to be the case, Todd finds you within moments of your arrival at the Vanderboren estate. The insults fly freely, but when you present your request to Lord Premiarch, Todd’s arrogant manner gives way to incredulity. ”You can’t seriously be thinking of supporting this! The Ministhriens were a petty house and look where they are now…no doubt because of foolishly extravagant gestures such as this.”
Lord Premiarch listens to arguments from the both of you, and in the end, you convince him. He smiles at you. ”It is good to see that valor and charity is not lost upon you, Adolphus. Take this,” he says as he removes the finely-wrought silver clasp on his cloak. “It should help ease the burden on the Church of Iomedae.”
Todd, his face stamped with anger, stomps from the room, mutters about ”idiot knight who wouldn’t know the sharp edge of a sword even if it hit him in the face” just barely audible. Lord Premiarch sighs and looks back to you. ” I trust you will make the clasp's origins known to Priestess Urikas?”
The clasp is worth about 180 suns.
Total contribution to the temple's costs is as follows, from what I can tell:
Diurn’s mother: 95
Total: 964.79 gold
Jenya gladly accepts your contribution. "Thank you, my friends. It warms my heart to know of such good people willing to come to another’s aid. Diurn, please send my regards to Adriana, and an invitation to join me for lunch. It has been too long since I have shared the pleasure of her company.” She turns to Adolphus. ”Lord Premiarch’s generosity is a credit to him and his house. He has my personal thanks.”
”And now, I must beg your forgiveness and take my leave. The continued preparations for the Flood Festival demand my attention. Please, be protective of Dorian. The ordeal he has gone through has surely weakened him.” Just before Jenya leaves, she hesitates, then turns around, a faint blush on her cheeks. ”Valamont, would you walk with me a moment? There is something I would like to discuss.”
Jenya walks through the halls slowly, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. She casts a few appraising looks your way when she thinks you’re not looking, then finally says, ”I could not help but notice that your generosity far outstrips your companions. You must be very close to Dorian.” Her voice rises softly, forming the last sentence into a question.
Not that I mind paying less but when Dreygard said he needed to keep 50, he meant out of the reward. I think that means he would have donated 366gp
Valamont will look to his companions with a slight bit of confusion, an expression that says "did I do something wrong?" before silently nodding and following Jenya.
Okay, Dregyard was willing to contribute his share of the 2,500 gold reward minus 50 gold. That comes to 366 gold, 6 silver, 7 copper, which brings the total to 1300.68 gold. If anybody else wants to revise, please be specific.
Jenya's eyes moisten as you speak. "Too few these days share your morals." She leans forward and kisses you softly on the cheek. "You are a good man, Valamont Caine. Cauldron needs more like you." As she pulls away, her face flushes deeper. She nervously smooths her robe down and looks away. "Ah, well then. I really do need to get back to work. Iomedae's blessing be upon you."
Valamont bursts back into the room, his face red and his expression clearly one of exasperation. His hand wring the air before him in frustration as he seems to be in mid-argument, "-you don't know that! You don't know that! No! Stop it! gasp! You take that back right now! She is not like-" Valamont stops, suddenly realizing everyone in the chamber is looking at him.
"Ahem. Yes. Hello again, everyone." He deliberately makes eye contact with each person gathered, nodding in greeting as he does so. "Dorian! I'm sure dying and returning from the Boneyard within a day's span is taxing, but the offer to share notes still stands if you're interested. Nothing like studying the intricacies of the arcane to enliven the mind, aye?"
"Ah yes, of course. Well once we've got more than a few moons to rub together between us, perhaps then?"
-Hush! He just came back from the Boneyard, mother, show some respect!
He looks up again then, smiling brightly at his erstwhile companions, "Are there any other preparations to make before we return to Malachinte 'hold?"
In the interest of moving this forward...
The party rests for the day, allowing Dorian some small measure of time to recover from his ordeal. The next day, you gird yourselves for battle once again, and head underground. As you ride the elevator down from Jzadirune into the Malachite Fortress, the atmosphere seems tense, the walls seem darker and more imposing. Death, you now know, is a real possibility down here. Will it claim one of you next?
Upon arriving in the room with two pillars where you battled and defeated Xukasus, you immediately notice something different - the door leading to his room is once again closed. Upon inspection, you find nobody in his filth-infected room, though the chest holding the coins is now missing. Somebody besides you has been here, and been careful about leaving tracks too - no matter how you search, you find none.
|Sir Adolphus Ministhrien|
"Why would they take the ogre's body?"
Then whispered to his drawn sword,
-Why would they take the ogre's body?
-Stew?! Are you mad, mother?
Valamont then visibly blanches. Whether it be from the vile state of the ogre's chamber or his conversation with his blade is hard to determine.
Cantrips: dancing lights, daze, flare, ghost sound
Level 1: chill touch, shield, shield
Not willing to set foot in the foul chamber again, Valamont turns away from the mysterious scene and presses the small button on the pillar they'd discovered on their previous visit, his gaze fixed on the portion of the eastern wall he expects to slide away.
Shaking his head he laments, "I don't know if I've ever seen anything as disgusting as that ogre. I hope I never see another one for the rest of my hopefully long and robust life."
"Hell maybe we'll see the same one again. I've heard that there are things in the underdark that can make the dead walk again. And not like with Dorian".
|Sir Adolphus Ministhrien|
DP: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22
The secret opens into an unlit hallway that proceeds about 50 feet before bending to the south. Dreygard cautiously scouts ahead, and finds a room with dozens of weapons neatly arrayed on four wrought-iron racks standing against the west and east walls. Pushed against the north wall are two tables covered with suits of armor.
When the party enters, they find quite a stash of weapons and armor.
2 chain shirts
2 suits of banded mail
1 suit of half-plate
2 spiked gauntlets
10 throwing axes
5 heavy picks
1 masterwork greataxe with intricate, blade-like designs etched into the blade
Dreygard’s keen dwarven senses pick up the outline of a door hidden in the south wall, and he notices underneath one of the banded mails is a small button, presumably to open the door.
Valamont notices the half-plate laid out on one of the tables. He looks it over, his eyebrow arched appraisingly. Then he looks at Dorian, the same arch to his brow. He looks back and forth between the two several times before at last shaking his head.
He then picks up one of the chain shirts by the shoulders and holds it up, checking it for chinks, holes, and other blemishes. The half-elf then pulls the armor in and holds it against his front as if checking its size. He turns to the rest of the group, "Well? What do you all think? Quite fetching, yes?"
|Sir Adolphus Ministhrien|
"Why would gnomes have an armory sized for humans?" Darthal wonders aloud. "or did the hobgoblins put these here?". He keeps a wary eye on the entrance.
Dreygard whistles at the armor. "Yeah, need to watch out for that. Taking the day away, they are sure to have made preparations, but why leave an armory out here unguarded. Nevertheless, lets take advantage of it." he says as he eyeballs the other chainshirt, picking it up, taking note of its weight and flexibility. He grunts and shakes his head, but then his eyes light up as he spies the axes and hammers. "Now that is something I could use."