after the healing washes over him "thanks healbot"
Spellbook:
bbeg spellbook=(contains all prepared spells, all wizard illusion spells from the PH up to 5th level, and four other spells of your choosing of levels 1 through 4)
there are two other spellbooks. Do those contain the same spells as the one found on the boss?
More or less.
He would have taken half and been around -5 after the fireball, so the channel would have put him back in the positives.
"This staff seems to be about my speed."
Is the staff charged up?
Yes.
OK, first off to stop the whining, your armor is done.
Second, your next mission involves a briefing by the queen of the elves at breakfast tomorrow. Since I'm a lazy GM and don't really want to roleplay out all the foofy elvish stuff (even in hick version) I'll just summarize.
The shadow key you found will take you to Zirnakaynin, which is the Drow capital. Of course that would normally be suicide. However the elves have a trick up their sleeve. They have a necromancer who can basically turn you into an animated Drow corpse for a while. You change your race to Drow (base) minus the stat changes, and the disguise cannot be detected via normal magic or close inspection.
Once you are there in disguise, you are to figure out what exactly is up with this endy world business.
So when you level up to 9th, also have a version where you are a Drow (which does give you spell resistance- and self loathing in the case of Kronug).
when you level up to 9th, also have a version where you are a Drow (which does give you spell resistance- and self loathing in the case of Kronug).
Kronug already had that. You're thinking of Ulthar.
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OK, to move this along.
Two hours before the elf gate recharges, Giseil orders the PCs to follow him into the corpse tent. Within the tent are several cots arranged in pairs, one for every character who plans to pass through the elf gate and one for the characters’ new drow body. After the PCs have a moment to examine the dead drow—all chosen for their attractiveness and relatively whole condition—Kaerishiel joins them bearing a simple wooden box. Opening the box, he reveals a number of simple silver amulets, each set with a pale crystal in the center. These bloodlinks, he explains, serve a twofold purpose. First, they grant the wearer abilities similar to those many drow possess. Second, the crystals at the amulets’ centers serve as the focus item of Giseil’s recorporeal incarnation spell. Kaerishiel gives a bloodlink to each PC and bids they don them so Giseil might perform his magic.
Overthenexthour,Giseilcastsmultiple recorporeal incarnation spells from several scrolls, one for each PC. The spell is painless, but the sensation of crawling skin as the flesh of a deceased drow subsumes each PC’s appearance is unusual to say the least. Once every party member is transformed into a drow, Giseil again reviews the 4 importance of the bloodlink, its role as the
focus for his magic, and how destroying the items will dispel the connected disguise. He curtly wishes the PCs luck then departs, leaving Captain Kaerishiel to explain the next
step of their dangerous deception.
the briefing:
“You are now drow. You were part of the battle here in Celwynvian, but when we elves got the upper hand, you went into hiding to wait for the elf gate to recharge. You watched from afar as we tried, and failed, to cleanse the portal, and when it recharged you stormed our camp, slaughtered the elves you found there, and swiftly moved through the portal to the other side.
“As soon as you’re through, a half regiment of my best men will follow in pursuit to further confuse the matter. If there’s any drow on the other side, they’ll likely be more concerned with our ‘invasion’ than a few bloodied stragglers. This should buy you the time you need to lose yourselves amid the chaos, and we should be able to prevent any drow from taking advantage of the portal to return here. Once you’re through, my men will return and close the portal. From there, you’re on your own—hopefully, you’ll be able to assimilate yourselves into drow society soon enough, but if they question you about what happened here, do your best to keep your story simple. Might I suggest telling the truth, but simply leaving out the part where the ‘heroes’ who helped defeat the drow are now infiltrating their... your city?
“We only get one shot at this, so, no matter what confronts you through that gate, remember that we’re the enemy and there’s no going back.”
Once the PCs are prepared, they are led into the Academy of Arts building in central Celwynvian, along with a group of several elven scouts and soldiers. As they approach, the elf gate shimmers with energy—it’s keyed to the shadow key that Nolveniss carried, and as the carrier of the key approaches the portal, the stone arch suddenly glows and shimmers. (If no PC possesses the shadow key, Kaerishiel is now in possession of it—or if the key has been destroyed or lost, an elven bard makes use of Use Magic Device to activate the portal blindly.) The stone inside the arch grows smoky, then translucent, revealing a cloudy view of a shadowy cavern beyond. An elven voice shouts “Run dogs!” in Undercommon as the scouts ready their weapons for the PCs’ flight through the portal.
"I think that's our cue guys." Marckus mumbles as he nudges Kronug. "We should run, right?"
Rags hikes up his robes, showing his skinny legs and bolts through.
Sileth follows his fellow Robe wearer managing to run without hiking up his robes (a wizard's somehow unisex version of a dress).
You hop through the gate with the elves in pursuit.
On the other side there's a camp of drow and driders on watch. They immediately get up and move to intercept the incursion. They appear to be heading towards your group, but their attacks go over around you hitting the pursuing elves quite hard forcing them to retreat through the portal.
Once the fracas is over, the portal guards are trying to organize the remaining troops and are eying you as new recruits.
One fellow who had been stopping by with a cart full of supplies offers you a ride into the city.
panting...."fracking lightspawn elves. A ride into the city sounds great. Need to release my frustration on some slaves"
Marckus nods judgmentally, exactly as he'd anticipate a drow would.
"I am Gadak, I will be taking you into Zirnakaynin. Let me give the commander here the low down, and we can leave. "
then he walks over to the commander as you load into his cart. He chats with him a bit and you set off into a tunnel.
"Nice cart. You an independent contractor or part of a bigger outfit?"
"My name is Gadak Simiryin, I serve House Vonnarc. I'm a footman. So what happened in Celwynvian? How were you the only ones to escape?"
"You mean the others didn't make it? None of them?"
"You are the only ones to pass through the gate. "
"But still, tell me how you managed to survive when nobody else did. "
"You know what they say: you don't have to be faster than the topsiders, you just have to be faster than the other guys, am I right?" Marckus jeers. "I graduated top of my class at running away."
"Maybe the other guys stopped to grab some elf loot and screwed the pooch."
Ulthar stands in the corner, hoping his seething anger at not getting to punch this drow just looks like regular drow brooding.
"Ah, prudence and discretion- always good survival strategies. "
"I notice your accents are not local. Are you just part of the army from another of the city states? Are you not familiar with Zirnakaynin. Perhaps I can show you around some, or find you positions with my household. "
Rags tries to remember something about underground geography and drow city states.
...New here.
Dear lords above, don't make it make small talk.
"Ignore him. MAKE WITH THE SMALL TALK."
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Kronug tries to think of some b+%#@~+$ to come up with based on at least a modicum of facts.
The huge and swole Drownug smiles and claps Drowlthar in the back.
"Yeah, we are from the far East, came to join the glorious war against the damned lightsided nutjobs." he starts b$!@+@+&ting as fast as humanly possible "With your help around Zirnakaynin we will be able to fimish our recovery faster than a slave can say 'Please not the face' and return to battle with renewed strength"
You think Umberweb would be a good place for a distant drow to be from.
After some blank stares from Rags and Marckus, which generated some odd looks, Kronug comes to the rescue with his silver tongue and has the man back on track.
"Splendid. So would you be interested in working for my house while in the city? It might be some time before a new expedition lightside is arranged. "
I would rather be impaled by every spear your weak house can muster simultaneously, such that I could feel the agony of every point piercing my flesh.
"Ya sure. You handle familiars?"
Marckus nods at all of the chill drow bonding.
He gives you a rather odd look.
"First off, I'm just a footman so not privvy to the higher workings of my house. However I doubt any of the great houses would restrict themselves to just dealing with merchants. What kind of drow city do you come from? Sounds like a bunch of sissies. "
"Ah, playing the long game. I see. Devious. I like that. I'm sure my bosses will too. "
Eventually, the PCs reach Zirnakaynin, the city of the drow, Last Home of the Elves. Their first glimpse of the city is a daunting one, as they emerge into a cavern of incredible size and flickering with the red and violet glow of arcane res. A 30-foot wall of barbed stone and bladed iron stands before them, a closed gate of spiked black iron etched with images of howling demons barring all passage. This is the northern gate of Zirnakaynin, through which only those with business in the cavern of Cocyrdavarin may pass.
The gate guards stop you but Gadak merely flashes the house brooch he wears and the guards allow his wagon to pass.
Stretching into the darkened distance, a fearsome city of sculpted stone and bladed iron fills this impossibly sized cavern. Eerie eldritch ames—burning with the colors of dying suns and lightning-furious thunderheads—ripple over spires carved from ancient stalagmites, adoring them with the blaze of ominous, spidery runes. Two steep cli s jut from the cavern floor, one stacked upon another, creating massive steps over which the city spills like a benighted waterfall. Flickering in the distance rises a single topless tower, a column connecting the cavern floor with the ceiling, its height crawling with runes. Elsewhere grows a tangle of fungal blooms alongside pools of oily cave water. Above, carved into the dome-like ceiling, flickering fey re illuminates twelve caves, their mouths carved into unsettling and demonic images. And everywhere amid the severe, black city—as menacing as shadows—glide the graceful, deadly forms of drow.
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Kronug uses the opportunity to inspect the faces, trying to discern the drow's morale, and also possible escape routes back to the portal because he is pretty sure sooner or oater someone will f&%* up and the group will need to fight their way out.
"That tower looks imposing. Guess it isn't for sale?" he jokes with merchant drow, the only drow he will have a minimum concern about murdering... If only because he doesn't look like a warrior or mage.
"Who'd want it? It looks pretty high-maintenance."
Marckus ponders what Drow might eat for dinner.
"For sale? You jest. That's Ileccinoc, the topless tower, seat of government. You don't buy that, though you can buy your way into the seat I suppose if you were rich enough, and of course female. Us males never rule here. "
Marckus: You are not really sure on all the details, but mushrooms are definitely on the menu, and probably subterranean lizards.