Carina starts wringing her hands at the news. "...oh."
Figures I couldn't get her to leave me alone forever...
"Well, I'm all for hoping we're going to prevent it." She straightens herself up.
"Yeah, not a fan of undead myself. Though I'm guessing if we did 'usher it in', it would be by accident, not intentional. Maybe we should be more careful?"
"That'll do. Let me know when to expect them. I'd like to see them work. Maybe I'll learn something."
Talk of more dragons gets Tanith's blood pumping until Nogwier mentions the Age of Worms. The big man laughs but it isn't heartfelt. "Let's hope for the the former."
"Is there anything we can do for you while we're in town? It sounds like we'll be leaving again soon."
"We'll send the goblins right over," the younger druid says. "They work best at night."
In response to Tanith's offer, Nogwier seems to shrug. Then, he perks up slightly. "I wonder...did you see Anlathi? While you were—" *cough* "—in the Free City?"
Carina nods. "We're well-acquainted with her, yes."
"My si..." *cough* "...sister. How fared she? I've sent her notice, but..." *cough* "...I expect this to be over by the time she receives it."
"She seems well. She's adopted Spiny-Cuetzpalli's dinosaur-as her pet. And brought Astraden back to life (among other people), so we're pretty grateful to her all in all."
"Ah. Good." He relaxes slightly. "You..." *cough* "...do rely heavily on reincarnation, don't you?"
"Not me. This is the body I was born with."
"I'm feeling very strange. I think I must excuse myself and retire for the evening," Rodrigo says. He finds whatever space has been allocated for him to sleep in, and lays down.
He feels very tired, a bit nauseous, and light headed. As he drifts off to sleep he finds Sombra waiting for him in his dreams.
"Masssster. You have not sssummoned me in ssssome time. In order that I might ssserve you better I have developed a way to transsssfer some of my esssssence into your sssoul."
"Huh?" Rodrigo asks
"I found the angel in you!"
"HUH!?" Rodrigo exclaims.
"You'll ssssee."
The dream fades to darkness....
Later that night, a gang of goblins, including the goblin ranger encountered before, journey to the scene of Ilthane the Black. The ranger is mounted on his scarred one-eyed wolf as they approach the scene.
The goblin sucks breath in through his teeth. Ilthane's body is hideous—messes of rotting kobold-like creatures are still stuck to her back. "The wyrm has turned. Dead and rotten, it is. Little meat remains. But teeth, and bones, and well-seared flesh can we take. We cut for you the scales and cut the rest for us."
He draws a knife and sets to work. If Tanith attends and asks questions, he answers them, always slightly rudely. He seems to be muttering under his breath the entire time otherwise—prayers to the Oerth Mother, observations of the quality of cuts, and advice to his fellow goblins.
It takes some time, but with or without Tanith's help, they are able to cut away large strips of draconic hide. The ranger then places those strips into shallow trays of salty water. "Keeps them from stiffen, this does. They'll still need proper tanning."
The night is abuzz in activity. Scores of people from the town show up. Jolot, the violent orc slumlord Farrukh once paid rent to, plays a comparatively minuscule fiddle for an appreciative audience. There is dancing, and singing, and quite a lot of drink. People seem happy. Even Tidwoad, the greedy gnome jeweler who repeatedly tried to scam Tanith, shows up without his golem for once to have a drink or two. There is a strong feeling of camaraderie floating around, and a sense, just for a night, that Diamond Lake might not be so bad a place after all. Even when Merovinn and the bouncer get into a fistfight, it's a mellow, peaceful sort of fistfight—mostly because the intoxicated wizard is absolutely incapable of harming the half-ogre, so Kurlag just sort of holds Merovinn by the collar until he stops swinging, then takes him outside and hands him a cup of coffee. They seem to have come to an understanding. Zalamandra offers him a job. It's all very interesting and very relevant to the party's interests.
Allustan turns in early, handing Carina Eligos's notes back before he does so. He seems tired, and not just because it's past midnight and he's had more than a little wine. He seems to be realizing something. He bids Carina a goodnight and sets off.
Allustan walks back to his ruined home, taking the steps entirely out of habit—though his idyllic house no longer stands, he knows the walk well. He will have to turn back when he arrives and go to the Able Carter Coaching Inn. But he wants to see his house once more before going to sleep. Nobody bothers him. That, at least, has not changed.
Not at all long ago, the heroes were minor players, and he served them well as a guide. He remembers Erip, the one pupil he ever took. He has come to terms with his failure to prepare them. He wasn't the worst teacher, but, looking back, he wasn't much better than his own. He thinks of the chess set in his house, forever frozen mid-play. He misses those mind games.
He snaps back to attention as he beholds what remains of his garden. Yes. He had been important, for a time. He served his part and steered the heroes where they needed to go. But they have outgrown him. Allustan Neff, smartest man in Diamond Lake, simply doesn't really matter that much anymore.
He hopes they can stop the darkness on the horizon. He knows it will be terrible. He will do his best to protect Diamond Lake from what is coming, but with regards to the true dangers, he senses that his role is at last drawing to a close.
And that may be for the best.
The morning comes early. Tanith finds the rapidly salted black dragonhide on his doorstep, with notes instructing him to keep it somewhere low on oxygen until he can find someone to complete the tanning and crafting process.
Rodrigo awakes with a start, horrible pain arching through his nerves from his back and shoulders. What the f$%$!? I wasn't carrying that much stuff yesterday... He opens his eyes and tries to roll over only to find himself tangled in something. His half asleep mind assumes its the sheets and tries to shove them off. The sheets feel like a bird, a big bird, and the sheets feel like they're attached to him. OW!
The he remembers the dream. In a panic he rolls over straight onto the floor with a solid thunk, before scrambling awkwardly to his feet. He is shocked to find that his back is now warded by two huge angelic wings. Rodrigo's eyes open wide and his jaw drops as he takes in the majestic sweep of white feathers. He slowly becomes aware of his motor control over the new appendages and gives them a test flap. It feels good. Sombra, you darling. What a lovely gift!
Rodrigo puts on his best (and only outfit), having to tear two slits in the back for his new friends to slip through, then goes out to the common room to see if anyone else is up.
Clunk is there. The hooded human looks Rodrigo over.
"Those are new."
After Tenser's death eleven years ago, the village experienced some downturn, but this began to turn around a year later when a new archmage showed up, took Tenser's castle, and declared himself sovereign lord of the region. Manzorian's rule proved slightly more restrained than Tenser's, but Magepoint has nonetheless flourished under his competent leadership. Now, the village seems caught between its small, pastroal roots and its growing importance to the outside world.
Should things continue as they have for the past few years, Magepoint might soon gather enough power and wealth that nearby kingdoms would be tempted to struggle over such a prize. So far, though, the individual might of Manzorian and his followers has kept even the most aggressive rulers from looking too closely at the community.
Most notably, Magepoint is an adventurer's haven. Many retired explorers and adventurers call the peaceful place home. Magepoint houses many small shops well equipped to meet the needs of the adventurers, diplomats, spies and couriers who stream in and out of the community. Magepoint is also an excellent place for characters to find a cohort or hireling, gather information and rumors, and learn o the goings on in the wider world. A large temple-library houses a massive collection of tomes.
Magepoint (village): Magical; AL LG; Population 530; 50,000 gp limit*; Assets 397,500 gp; Mixed (80% human, 5% half-elf, 4% gnome, 3% half-orc, 3% halfling, 2% elf, 3% other).
*Special-ordering from the Free City can be handled within a few days to obtain items within a range up to 100,000 gp.
Astraden spends the night carousing with the locals, singing along drunkenly to the rude lyrics and dancing even worse than she sings. She spills wine on her vest several times, but it's already violet-colored, so the stains aren't too noticeable. She gambles with Merovinn and some kids she vaguely remembers from childhood, who are now out of work miners; she chats with Venelle about that leather armor that changed hands; once, she spots a couple young miscreants sneaking in to get drinks, and gives them some tips on better disguises before handing them off to Kurlag. It's a nice evening, but despite herself her thoughts stray back to what she talked about with Hamaneezer. "If I can give people laughter sometimes, does it make up for the damage?"
Tousle-haired and with a splitting headache, Astraden rolls out of bed. She stumbles over to her washbasin and clenching it mutters, "Shafn vaser." With painful impact, several gallons of water fall onto her head and run down her hair, splashing a good five feet away from the washbasin. She ignores the lost water and spends a few minutes scrubbing her face and her hair - cleaning out the blood and grime and wine.
Thus freshened, she goes downstairs with her backpack slung over one shoulder. She's pulling out a chair when she sees something white out of the corner of her eye. And then her jaw drops.
"Rodrigo . . . what the f$#& . . . are those?"
"Pretty sure they're wings, Astraden."
"Speaking of weird mutations, check this s&&& out."
Farrukh dims the lantern in the room and shades his eyes. They glow faintly red in the dark.
"Noticed that while I was washing my face earlier. And, weirdest thing, it never seems dark any more. Kinda like when you cast that Eben Eyes spell on me, but better."
"Are you playing a prank on me or what?"
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Tanith hadn't had many interactions with goblins before so the night of grisly work was a unique experience. He leaves the religious rites to the goblin in charge but helps in whatever ways he can, even if it's just as muscle moving the huge dragon's limps around so the goblins can get at them with their surprisingly sharp knives. He keeps his questions to himself for now. After the business in the Muddle, prayers to gods he hadn't heard of made him anxious.
"Don't spare the flame when you're ready to eat that", he says when he sees the goblins setting the dragon's flesh aside. "She was known to have some nasty parasite."
***
The evenings festivities are a welcome reprieve from the days of dungeon crawling, dragon slaying, puzzling over ancient riddles. The big man lets loose, drinking more than his share, dancing wildly with Carina (and anyone else that will humor him), and generally making merry. The short fight between Merovinn and Kurlag nearly brings Tanith to tears as he sees the healing power of drunken brawls in action. Later he meets the pair outside to embrace them tightly in brotherhood.
***
"So that's not a costume or anything? Have you tried flying yet?" Tanith asks. "Flying's got to be great for your lats."
Eben winds up drinking himself under the table fairly early in the night. He wakes up in the morning finding that someone moved him to a side of the room. A not-quite-human presence makes itself known as a lerge, rough, tongue drags itself along his cheek. He opens his eye to see a familiar pair of faces. "Uh. 'Mornin Esmerelda..." He staggers to the washroom, head pouding, and splashes some water on his face and (with effort) makes himself presentable through liberal use of cantrips. By the time he staggers out, the rest of the group is up and about and poking at Rodrigo's new anatomy. "Ev'n if they don' do anythin' they're kina sexy..." he mutters as he leans up against a pillar for support.
Tanith hadn't had many interactions with goblins before so the night of grisly work was a unique experience. He leaves the religious rites to the goblin in charge but helps in whatever ways he can, even if it's just as muscle moving the huge dragon's limps around so the goblins can get at them with their surprisingly sharp knives. He keeps his questions to himself for now. After the business in the Muddle, prayers to gods he hadn't heard of made him anxious.
"Don't spare the flame when you're ready to eat that", he says when he sees the goblins setting the dragon's flesh aside. "She was known to have some nasty parasite."
"Flame? Fine. Burn this meat, we will."
***
The evenings festivities are a welcome reprieve from the days of dungeon crawling, dragon slaying, puzzling over ancient riddles. The big man lets loose, drinking more than his share, dancing wildly with Carina (and anyone else that will humor him), and generally making merry. The short fight between Merovinn and Kurlag nearly brings Tanith to tears as he sees the healing power of drunken brawls in action. Later he meets the pair outside to embrace them tightly in brotherhood.
***
The half-ogre returns the embrace. Merovinn waves his skinny arms helplessly, caught between the two giants.
"Uh. 'Mornin Esmerelda..."
Esmerelda's unfriendly head makes a whirring noise.
"Yes, they're, uh, wings. Apparently Sombra felt I hadn't been using her enough lately and used some of her power to unlock my latent angel blood or something. Anyway, I think I can fly now. Need to give it a try to make sure," Rodrigo says. "Forgive me for skipping breakfast, but I'm rather curious."
The summoner walks outside, and after giving several experimental flaps of his wings is able to take to the sky. He grins like a little boy as he swoops about Diamond Lake, waving down at anyone who looks up at him. Sweeeeeeet.
"So... what you're saying is that your shadow snake pet mutated you because she was bored?" Eben asks warily. "Rodrigo, what kind of entity exactly have you made a deal with?"
Rodrigo lands next to Eben. "Well...Sombra is only a shadowy snake because I made her that way. I created her by using my magic and part of my life force. She's really nothing more than an intelligent extension of my will. If I wanted her to be a rainbow colored pony with a horn she would be."
Wait a minute....that's brilliant. Why didnI think of this before? I'll have the little girl market cornered from the get go!
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The night passes in a blur of merriment after Carina accepts Eligos' notes from Allustan and bids him farewell. She drinks (quite more than she normally does), dances with Tanith, and breaks into a fit of giggles when she sees Merovinn pick a fight with Kurlag (which could only charitably be called a fight after several glasses of wine).
------------------
Alas, Carina is the last to roll out of bed the next morning. Her head is pounding, her mouth is dry, and her clothes and hair are in complete disarray.
"Ow... where's my shirt?" She fumbles about, searching for her errant top. She finds it before too long, strewn across the back of a nearby chair.
She eventually staggers out of her room, fully dressed but with her hair still a mess. Her eyes widen in surprise at the sight of Rodrigo landing, with his angel wings spread wide.
"...f&*!, what happened last night that made him get THOSE?"
She then notices Farrukh's glowing red eyes in the dim light of the common room. "And when did Farrukh turn part-tiefling?"
"Oh, are we showing off new powers? Watch this." Astraden draws her rapier from its sheath and twirls the hilt; a sheet of violet courses up the blade to its tip, then seems to vibrate in place. "I mean, it just looks like a mage's trick, but this kind of thing would really hurt Clunk."
"Hey Tanith, when do we want to go meet the spider?"
She lays the sheathed blade back on the table and goes behind the bar. "Gotta be some grub back here . . ."
Astraden dons her armor and pays a visit to Lynwerd, giving her a brushing and checking her hooves. She finds a rock - probably from the horse's hasty flight from Ilthane - and picks it out. "I'll give you a day to heal up," she says before returning to the Emporium, where she dons her armor and shoulders her pack.
"Hey Eben, now that I look like a divine being, do you want to start a cult together? We can trick people into thinking that I'm a god or demigod, and that I will reveal all the secrets of peace and happiness to them. Then we can make them pay at each level of enlightenment, more and more each time. We can isolate them from their families and friends and they will have no one to convince them it's a bad idea. What do you think?"
"This adventuring stuff hasn't been that lucrative since we left Greyhawk."
Carina's headache starts up again, this time fiercer than before.
She then notices Farrukh's glowing red eyes in the dim light of the common room. "And when did Farrukh turn part-tiefling?"
Farrukh actually looks worried.
"I...think it was after we killed that demon. The light DID look super bright after that."
"You don't think it like INFECTED me or something? Am I turning into a hideous eye demon?"
"Can I write your scripture? I've sat through enough Heironean sermons to know the proper syntax."
Carina rubs her eyes and gives Farrukh a look. "Well, let's have a look see, then..."
Fharlanghn, I wish I wasn't so hungover...
"Farrukh, what did you drink last night? Same stuff as Rodrigo?"
Eben looks quite tempted by Rodrigo's spiel. And then guilty for looking so tempted. "So... I think maybe Rodrigo should be the one to carry the chunk of the Rod of Seven Parts, then..."
"We should head out soon. Maybe as soon as Rodrigo's done trying out his new wings."
"Farrukh, what did you drink last night? Same stuff as Rodrigo?"
"I didn't even drink! I was too busy laughing at you idiots dancing around and giving oiled up man hugs to scrawny wizards and such."
At the phrase 'oiled up man hugs', Eben looks legitimately confused, like he's trying to remember a play-by-play of the previous evening and coming up short.
"Oh, are we showing off new powers? Watch this." Astraden draws her rapier from its sheath and twirls the hilt; a sheet of violet courses up the blade to its tip, then seems to vibrate in place. "I mean, it just looks like a mage's trick, but this kind of thing would really hurt Clunk."
"Yes. It would." Clunk looks uncomfortable at this line of discussion.
Carina puts a hand to her forehead and groans. "Best I can figure, you're starting to get used to wandering around in pitch black darkness. By the way, does anyone have some ice?"
It's not ice but Tanith is quick to offer Carina a hot cup of coffee.
Carina gratefully takes the offered cup of coffee and starts sipping it.
After this incredibly scientific and reasonable explanation, the group sets out to the south.
For the first time in a long time, the group journeys alongside the shores of the lake itself. It is a great and wretched creature. Once so pristine and sparkling to gain the name "Diamond Lake", it has since become miserably polluted, and the creatures within are, by Robin's account, often just as warped. Occasionally, an eyestalk peeps over the film of sludge that coats the water, eyeing the adventurers with casual interest.
As they pass the lake, the group spots a small group of green-cloaked figures standing by the entrance to a prominent tomb. In the early morning mist, candles surround them, illuminating their pale faces. Their eyes are closed in a silent mass vigil. These must be the cultists of Wee Jas who look after the town's boneyard. The cult is generally unfriendly towards outsiders who do not seek to convert, but they do not bother the party as they pass by.
"Hello!" Astraden calls to the creepy cultists as she hikes past. "All your corpses staying dead this time of year?"
"Hello!" Astraden calls to the creepy cultists as she hikes past. "All your corpses staying dead this time of year?"
They nod to Astraden, but do not otherwise break their...whatever it is they're doing.
The soft, porous earth gives way to hard cracked clay and rock as the party leaves Diamond Lake behind. The spider creature should be, according to Allustan, roughly eight hours off now.
Yet it is only roughly a minute after the party loses sight of the cultists that Farrukh starts to hear something. The sharp clanging sound of metal on stone echoes faintly over the Cairn Hills. It sounds as though a dozen sharp spears are stabbing into the earth in rapid succession.
Soon, Eben can hear it, too. Then Carina picks up on it as well. The mist is starting to thin, and the three of them can see a large, Flycatcher-sized shadow approaching rapidly.
Carina wordlessly drinks her mutagen and two extracts: one of shield, and one of false life.
She then hands off another extract of shield and an extract of false life to anyone who needs them.
"Looks like somebody's riding it."
Farrukh quickly studies both of them.
"I'm going to hide off on the side of the road. Might give us an edge if it comes to a fight."
"Wait, why does it sound metallic?"
Astraden grips Eben's shoulder and points her extended fingers towards the brittle clay and then the sky, speaking a snatch of Old Oeridian. The magician finds himself able to walk on air.
"Clunk, turn off your anti-magic for a tick." Astraden focuses, squinting hard as she looks at each of her companions, and then a mirage-like shimmer passes over them. Where before the group was a visually disparate team of warriors, they are now a band of haggard refugees.
Eben draws forth his glass rod of quickening and begins waving it through the air as he lays down a double-fast layer of spells over the party.
The towering shape looms out of the fog and comes into view. A metallic spider the size of a bull elephant skitters forward, its chitinous claws stabbing into the rock. Its back and head are interlaced with dozens of glossy metal plates arranged in a jagged fashion, and its six eyes glitter with eldritch energy seemingly barely held in check.
Image (knight sold separately, though you can assume the surroundings are accurate).
Atop the creature's back lurks a scrawny, green-skinned demon. It looks relatively familiar. Like a larger, stretched-out version of the quasit met in Zyrxog's lair.
It leans over the head of the huge spider-beast and glances towards Eben as he continues his wordy dirge. "Can someone shut him up?" It turns down and looks the spider in one eye. "Hey! Big ugly!" It clangs one claw on the creature's metal-plated head. "What gives? You broke or something?"
"Huh. That's not Flycatcher..." Eben says, although it's fair to say this particular spider seems at first glance much, much, worse.
Nevertheless, the demon's puzzled reaction belays Eben's own magical preparations, or at least his reactions. He pauses before casting any more spells.
He cocks his head to one side. "Have we... met?"