| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Hello all! I've spent a lot of time perusing all the fine stories that others have posted about their home campaigns, so with the permission of my home group, I'm going to be our group's chronicler. We started up in October and only play once a month, with a month off for December due to all those little annoying holiday thingies and adult-related issues, but we're now back on track.
Rules: 3.5 for the most part. We're using CMB and some of the changes to spells and magic items (namely, no more XP costs) in this game. Whenever I eventually get around to using death magic, we'll be trying out a few options as well.
Starting level: 14. We wanted to do a high-level campaign for a change, since most of our games end around 15th. Also, two of the characters were survivors of a previous campaign.
The characters in our little story:
Deathquaker: She is the GM and mastermind of the insanity. More often found over at the GitP forums, she occasionally posts here. The world we're using is Scrithengard, her homebrew. I will fill in notes as I can, but considering that I've got 40 or so pages of Player's Guide so far and I know there's a lot more material in her possession, that might take a while!
Jour: LG human male paladin of Pirs (PEERS), god of community, stewardship, physical endurance, and family. Jour is one of the two survivors of the previous campaign. Jour hails from an island in the far south, an outpost for the xenophobic Firas Empire. He serves his community best as a diplomat, one might think, but now resides in Merrywell Manor in the country of Haven. Jour is the party tank and wields a flaming adamantine battle-axe and bears a shield of unusual powers.
Axel: CG halfling male fighter/rogue/shadowdancer (levels: 2/6/6 ?). If Jour is the diplomat, Axel is the con-halfling. Axel can schmooze and sweet-talk with the best of them. He serves the deities Sefana (sehf-AH-nuh)-the Twin Goddess, patroness of passion, art, and insanity-and Lees, god of cunning, trickery, and lies. Alongside Jour, Axel has been engaged in an ongoing quest to destroy the phylacteries of the King Immortal, a centuries old-lich that rules the powerful nation Sheenosek to the south of Haven. Axel is also an upstanding member of Merrywell's community. Axel's preferred weapon is a Wanderer's Shard, a small piece of the fallen divinity known as the Wanderer.
Kiiren Thornblade: CG elf male ranger 6/wizard 6/order of the bow initiate 2. Kiiren hails from a faraway world, now in Scrithengard due to an accident with a potent artifact that flung him to the far side of existence. Kiiren has a bit of drow blood in him, giving his skin an unusual grey tone. Kiiren is a bit of a black sheep in his family in that he lacks much of the arcane skill of his parents and grandparents. This has led him to develop skills for survival on his own terms. Since his arrival decades ago, Kiiren has fought in the wars to emancipate Haven from the Firas Empire. He joins the group due to interest in finding a way back to his homeworld. Kiiren wields a bow of force in battle. His patron deity is Varan (VAH-ran), the deity of exploration, freedom, and serendipity.
Morag, the Gatherer of Souls: NG human female cloistered cleric 10/contemplative 4. My character who might be found here . Named for a character in the Tir Alain series who serves as inspiration. The chronicles detailed herein will be from Morag's journal, but I hope to encourage the other members of the party to join in as well.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Session One: October 25, 2008
Scrithengard time: Early autumn, First Journsday of Meriloom (roughly analagous to the 1st of September)
I came to Merrywell Manor at Jade’s request and received accommodations at the wizard’s tower. I’ve wandered from one nation to the next for too long; too many events have slipped my notice. Once settled, Jade introduced me to several of her associates and we sat down for something more than just a social gathering. Jour and Axel have been part of an adventuring company active in Haven for a while. It was through their efforts that Merrywell was cleared for habitation. Now their party has gone their separate ways and these two—Jour is a paladin of Pirs, Axel a shadowdancer dedicated to Sefana and Lees—wanted to continue with their previous mission. Now they attempt to find the phylactery of the King Immortal and destroy it before the Ebon Serpent can find it and use it to control the lich himself. I did not know that liches could retain more than one phylactery, as apparently one has been found and destroyed already in their prior campaign. Theirs is a task that Jade suspected I would appreciate. Joining us was an elven ranger and mage, Kiiren, that had served in the wars between the Empire and Sheenosek, and then in the war for Haven’s freedom. We agreed to join forces in order to find that phylactery first. After much discussion, my suggestion to find a means of destroying the phylactery first prevailed. While the efficiency of locating the lich’s soul and then running north into the Diamond Kingdoms to destroy it is undeniable, we do not know if the cloud giants can help us or whether they will attempt to kill first and ask questions of our cadavers later. For that matter, there are two locations where the phylactery might be hidden: near the Sooley River and in Skuld. Without the ability to reach both locations in force, finding an appropriate weapon against the lich and the Ebon Serpent seems the wiser course of action to me.
Our first step is to reach the Diamond Kingdoms. Axel has traveled much of the continent, even as I, though he is more familiar with Vargild of the two of us. We will travel into Vargild, then to Zweidor via the teleportation circle at the gnomish capital city of Hollivar and from there northward into the Diamond Kingdoms. The teleportation circles will reduce our travel time extensively as we move about the land; I wish I had known of them sooner.
We were barely away from Merrywell when an ambush gave us our first chance to test our mettle together in battle. The very road itself rose up to attack us at the behest of an unknown mage. Jour charged at the monstrous elemental with his heavy lance firmly in hand. Unfortunately, our quiet paladin missed with his initial strike. Axel quickly closed the gap and engaged the creature, only to find it ready and waiting for him. Our doughty halfling received several well-placed blows for his trouble as Kiiren’s arrows flashed across the distance to injure the elemental. From the cover of invisibility a rogue appeared and tried to open the ranger from crotch to throat but was too reckless, slicing only air. I quickly threw up a barrier against evil to ward off the elemental, my efforts hampered by the sudden appearance of falling ice around us. I have not felt cold in years, so the sensation was decidedly novel—and unpleasant. We battled the rogue and the elemental for several seconds, trying to remove one threat or the other, all the while knowing that there was another foe to face. I healed Axel of his grievous wounds even as I felt an unfamiliar and unwelcome presence attempt to invade my mind. Whatever compulsion or charm our foe tried, he quickly found that his spell failed before my superior willpower. The elemental finally fell before my companions’ onslaught as I asked Death for the power to see as She does and was answered. A quick scan of the battlefield revealed our cunning foe was not only invisible but flying among the trees to one side of the road. We began to focus our efforts against the rogue only to find his ally—a gnome sorcerer, as we learned later—conjuring another elemental from the road, quickly followed by a swarm of spiders. Unfortunately for him, the swarm died a fiery death as I called flame from the heavens. I was reluctant to do so, hoping to strike our foe directly, but I could not let him continue to summon allies. The rogue fell, his glowing planetouched eyes growing dim as blades and arrows struck home. With all other foes soon down, we concentrated on the gnome. Jour used his divine gift for judging the souls of the living to narrow down his own search for the sorcerer, while Kiiren launched a fireball and a web at the gnome to slow him down. Before we could fell him, the gnome—Belundel the Dragon-Touched, as I later learned from his deceased accomplice—threw down a bag and fled, flying away at a speed none of us could match and hoping that leaving behind valuable treasure would deter further pursuit.
The gnome’s bag held a variety of items of value from magic to gems—the bag itself is like my own, a bag of holding. We stripped his fallen compatriot and with Kiiren’s help I said Last Rites over the highwayman and buried him. I know that I should have burned the body, but with Jour and Axel exploring a nearby ruin I did not want to separate the group further as I sought sufficient wood for the fire. But before we threw the first shovelful of dirt on the man, I questioned his corpse to make sure that he had no allies that might come looking for him and to find that the two highwaymen had burned the bodies of their victims already. With a heavier heart, we resumed our trip into Vargild.
Gloameet hasn’t changed much since I departed from Vargild months ago, other than the forms have rotated again. Axel knew his way through the bureaucracy well and secured paperwork to expedite our way to Hollivar. Kiiren, I noted, is impatient with bureaucracy—and just about everything else. In many ways he is more impulsive than the humanoids I knew from the frontier. Despite that, we quickly moved along to the capital and secured passage to Zweidor.
In Ardenhold, Axel’s diplomatic skills took an unfortunate turn. The halfling’s irrepressible nature caused a brawl at the tavern where we were attempting to locate a guide for the trip to the Diamond Kingdoms. I warned him that I will not waste resources calling his spirit from Tria’s Womb if he dies in a pointless and needless battle; perhaps that will force him to consider his actions, but I doubt it. Axel worships Sefana as well as Lees—his energetic nature is a perfect match for Sefana’s passion. I suppose that I am similar to Axel in that regard, though it is not Sefana or Lees that I favor. . . .
Kiiren became our negotiator as we located our guide, Ektor Keligsgrad, as only Kiiren knows the Dwarven dialect of our quartet. The dwarf himself was gruff—alike and unlike Edrel, I hope he is doing well—and accompanied by a pair of wolves, easily larger than those I’ve seen in the west of Haven. I had the idea to expedite our trip with magic, but have since learned that there are regions where magic is weakened, runs wild, or is negated—all the result of the Cataclysm, I am sure. Our guide has accordingly insisted on a long list of items for the trip, including potions to heal wounds and protect against the cold, boots such as the pair I wear to ward against the snow, and a mound of cold-weather gear sufficient to survive the frigid north. A quick discussion with the others has led to my current efforts to create some of the magic we need, namely the boots of the winterlands. Kiiren and I are cooperating on this project, as he knows incantations that I do not know that are necessary for the enchantments to succeed. That leaves Axel with Jour to gather the other items Ektor desires for the journey. We agreed to meet our guide once more when the enchanting is done, hopefully prepared for the trip. I hope to commune with Death before we go in an effort to learn more of our enemies’ activities. Hopefully Axel and Jour can find the incense I require in order to find some of the answers we seek; I have the coin to spare, and diamond dust as well, should another commodity be needed. The Ebon Serpent is not the only group with a stake in the game for Sheenosek’s throne, after all.
Session Two: November 15, 2008
Scrithengard date: Third Journsday of Meriloom-Fifth Marketday of Meriloom
Kiiren and I spent nearly two weeks preparing for the trip to the Diamond Kingdoms while in Ardenhold. I do not know what Jour, Axel, and Kiiren did when my time was free once more, but I spent time learning of dwarven funeral rituals and communing with Death. Ektor did sit down with us the night before departure to discuss final details and plans, most particularly about our method of travel. Ektor seems to have warmed up to us somewhat after this meeting, or as much as I might expect a dwarf to do so, though I may be erroneous in my assessment of his feelings. Perhaps I am engaging in wishful thinking? After my most recent discussion with Death, that is a possibility.
On the first day of travel northward, we alternated between usage of the wind walk magic and orienteering in physical form. Apparently there is no danger of wild or suppressed magic until one moves westward away from the northern trade road. But our first serious obstacle was found midmorning. A stack of bones of human, dwarven, and other races sat along the trade route, ritually laid to rest by the monster that had slain them. We tracked this would-be bandit down to find it was a troll of exceptional cunning. The troll bore an enchanted battle axe, a quiver of javelins, and a pieced-together shirt of enchanted chain. We were ambushed by the monster above the tree line as a javelin just missed Jour, landing nearly between his feet. Axel approached the monster stealthily, but the troll charged the rest of us in retaliation for several arrows to the chest courtesy of Kiiren’s excellent aim. Kiiren received a wicked slash for his efforts, but the troll was soon beset by Jour. The champion of Pirs landed a devastating blow with his flaming battleaxe, the adamantine blade driving deep into his opponent’s shoulder. Jour followed his attack with two more solid blows before Ektor landed a solid strike of his own. Before the creature could recover, four arrows in rapid succession felled it. The battle was not yet over, however, as Ektor was then snatched up by a roc hunting food for its young. Jour burned the troll to death as Kiiren and I blasted the great bird with spells and Axel shot it repeatedly with his bow. Ektor was dropped by the creature and narrowly saved from a quick death by a spell thrown by Jour, allowing our paladin to absorb some of the punishment onto his own body. The bird soon fell prey to a spell from Ektor and left us alone afterward, convinced we were no longer edible or perhaps friends. A quick round of healing spells set our few injuries to rights before we continued onward.
Progress that day was stymied by the appearance of fog in the mountains. Instead of risking division of our group by the mist, we returned to the ground and trudged for a few miles to find a safe place to camp for the evening. I admit that I was growing tired in the thin mountain air, a fact that Mariok would find amusing if he were present to see it. Ektor led us to a cave that we soon found to be occupied by a charming jann by the name of Alamar. Alamar willingly shared the comfort of the cave and his campfire with us in exchange for a tale or two. He was unusually interested in the story of my past, enough that I was initially concerned that he had some ulterior motives. Once we had settled around the fire, I told everyone of my past and what little I remember of it. While Alamar seemed to find the story interesting, my words settled a rather depressing pall over the group. Alamar told us a bit about himself as well, including a fascinating story of a journey in the Dragonspine Mountains to Hekhu’s realm if I understood him correctly. The jann also mentioned that there may be a portal somewhere northwest of the trade route. Stories told and chocolate consumed, everyone settled in for the evening.
Our gracious host departed the next day and we resumed our own journey northward. We found sign of more trolls and of giants along the way, but in particular we soon found ourselves staring at a horrible travesty. A cloud giant was crucified on the border of their realm, beaten to death and left as a message for others to find. I could almost feel the giant’s spirit howling in agony and despair, but there were no signs of the giant rising from his grave. Axel and Kiiren cut the warrior down and I chanted a prayer over the body to preserve the corpse. We paused to discuss our options, a conversation that concluded with Axel choosing to remain behind to watch for the return of the giant’s murderer. The rest of us reluctantly continued onward to the giant’s city.
We resumed our solid forms and approached the city on foot to avoid causing trouble. The city’s gates are covered by an immense illusion, including a gigantic tree too far above the tree line to be real. Ektor led us into the company of one Ilsa Buornsdatter, the first cloud giant I have met. Ilsa and Ektor renewed their acquaintance before our guide informed the giantess that we came with dire news. Ilsa led us through the city to a mead hall where we could speak privately. The city is built to accommodate smaller travelers, apparently maintained in part through dwarven craftsmanship. But the city was also a marvel in and of itself, a home for people some fifteen feet tall. Never let it be said that civilization ends on the northern border of Zweidor!
At the mead hall I noticed my companions’ reluctance to speak, so I informed Ilsa of our unfortunate findings. She managed to restrain her anger and uttered a comment that reinforced my fears that the giants were being provoked. Ilsa told us to stay with her at all times as she sent word for the Speaker of Tria to come and hear our words. The Speaker himself was a giant clad in the green robes of a Chosen of Tria, a serene man, who heard our tale calmly. I soon departed with him to reveal the location of his fallen clansman, but before departure I encouraged Jour and Kiiren to keep their eyes and ears open for more information.
I led the Speaker to the giant’s body. Axel revealed himself upon my return and reported that the corpse had been watched from afar by a giant—a frost giant, the Speaker informed us. He was saddened but not apparently as angry as Ilsa. I assisted the Speaker as I could with the ritual, observing all that I could. Morbid as it is to say it, this undertaking has increased my knowledge of the funeral rituals of different cultures significantly with time in both Zweidor and now the Diamond Kingdoms. I also think that we will have to intervene before the cloud giants march to war against the frost giants. Why the frost giants want a war with such powerful foes worries me. As Kiiren pointed out, you do not provoke a powerful foe unless you desire death or are already stronger than your would-be opponent. I also hope that this situation is merely a coincidence. Someone knows where we were as of two weeks ago, and I would be rather displeased to learn that someone is manipulating this war for their benefit or to hinder our efforts.
Sounds like a very interesting setting and party, I look forward to seeing more.
One small request though, please put spaces between the paragraphs, makes thing much easier to read.
Sounds like a very interesting setting and party, I look forward to seeing more.
One small request though, please put spaces between the paragraphs, makes thing much easier to read.
Sorry about that, Cap'n. This was transcribed directly from Word and I forgot to add the spaces. I'll also be adding the rest before week's end; there's one more session journal and 2 interludes to add. And we're playing this weekend, so there's another already in the works.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Session Two: Interlude-Communing with Death
After spending a week and more preparing for the trip to the Diamond Kingdoms, I excused myself from dinner and sought privacy for one last bout of magic before departing for the frigid north. My companions are good people, but I prefer not to assault their sensibilities at this juncture. While I am a Chosen, I am not a servant of the Council or any other god save Tria perhaps. I didn’t know how they would take the knowledge I gained, and I do not care to upset them if I can help it.
Tired as I was, I rested briefly before attempting to contact Death. In truth, I have been moved by my intuition to do this. Our enemies are powerful and possess great resources, so I would be remiss if I did not do everything in my power to aid our cause. But I still hesitated if but briefly. I began this road ten years ago in Sheenosek with a single conversation, but Death has not seen fit to speak with me since. Omens, portents, and intuition have served me well in understanding the will of Death, but this time I hoped to speak with Death directly once more. I had the power, and I had the right. I only lacked the courage.
Once I awoke, I set out the braziers I keep stored away and lit the incense I had purchased. I knelt between them, stretching for several minutes in an effort to become comfortable. The sweet smell permeated the musty air of my chambers and I promptly began the incantation. Before me sat my journal, open to the page where I had carefully scribed the questions that I now wanted answers for. A pen and ink sat nearby at the ready. These simple thoughts were oddly comforting.
I ended the incantation with a simple plea. “Death, your Mistress would have words with thee.” And I waited.
I did not wait long.
The presence that I had felt a lifetime ago seemed to surround me once more. If anyone else was awake and nearby I doubt they would have slept well that night if they felt as I did. There was a palpable stillness to the air, matched by a subtle vibration running the length of my spine as divine power filled me.
You are heard, Gatherer of Souls. What would you know?
Those words penetrated to the depths of my mind and soul. I was silent for a long moment as I strove to gather my thoughts and answer that question with one of my own.
“Is the Ebon Serpent looking for the phylactery of the King Immortal?”
Yes. No surprise here, but confirmation of their goals was still desirable.
“Does the King Immortal retain more than one phylactery at this time?”
No. At least one small mercy from the gods.
“Can the cloud giants help us destroy the King Immortal’s phylactery?”
Not directly. I hope that they will still prove helpful if the giants cannot directly assist us, or else this long trip will be for naught.
“Will the cloud giants we seek greet us with hostility?”
Depends. Then I hope our diplomacy is up to the test.
“Is the phylactery in the vicinity of Skuld?”
Yes.
“Is the Ebon Serpent actively seeking out any member of this party at this time?”
Yes. I considered briefly asking who that might be, but Jour and Axel are the likely suspects, as they’ve directly fought agents of the group before. I would be the next target of choice, as I worked to maintain civil order in Haven’s Hold during their campaign to control the capital. Kiiren’s interactions with the Ebon Serpent, if any, are an unknown.
“Are any other organizations, groups, or governments actively seeking out a member of this party at this time?”
Yes. There are other power groups in Scrithengard, to be sure, but who could be seeking us out? My only guess is the Immortal’s Talons, and only then if the King Immortal knows we seek his phylactery.
“Does this organization/group/government have hostile intentions toward the party at this time?”
Yes and no. Yes and no? Do two groups seek us with our deaths as their goal in one case and aid in the other? Or does one group seek us with mixed goals?
“Does this organization/group/government know where we are at this time?”
No and yes. Two groups then. One group would either know where to find us or not.
“Does the Ebon Serpent know that this party is searching for the King Immortal’s phylactery?”
Uncertain. I find this particular answer unsettling, but then Death is not Aurit, god of knowledge and learning.
“Does the Ebon Serpent know where we are at this time?”
No. Another small boon.
“Does the Ebon Serpent know where the King Immortal’s phylactery is at this time?”
As much as you do. And I know where it is . . . .
“Should we trust our dwarven guide?”
Does your guide trust you? Another question that leaves more questions. Does this mean he will betray us due to his mistrust? Will he be overly cautious and paranoid? Will he spy on us, seeking to learn more about us in an effort to understand our goals? This answer merits further thought.
I scarcely remembered the questions asked and the answers I received, quickly writing down the words before they were blasted from my memory by the next. I felt that Death was—pleased?—with my questions, though the feeling was too complex to describe with such a simple word. And then I asked my final question, delaying contemplation of the answers until after.
“Will the destruction of the King Immortal’s phylactery destroy him permanently?”
THE LICH MUST BE DESTROYED.
In stories, the bards will imitate the voices of giants in loud booming tones. I felt that a giant had shouted into my mind, piercing to the core of my being. Several seconds passed as I shook my head to clear it, hoping not to lose the spell. Death had quite clearly made my orders known to me.
“As you command, Death, I shall obey,” I finally whispered as no more questions came to mind.
I felt for only the second time an icy chill on my cheek, and then the presence of Death vanished. The braziers suddenly blazed up and then quenched, leaving me alone in the near-darkness of their embers. For many long minutes I remained there, considering what revelations I had gained. But finally I rose and lit a lamp in order to finish my scribbling while the words of my patron were still fresh in my mind. With such short answers, my notes were quickly completed. I set the book aside for the evening and cleaned up the room, careful to leave no trace of ash or other evidence of the spell. I had no desire to irritate the dwarves. My spell complete, I promptly sat down and began evening prayers and meditation. Nothing unusual happened though I suspected that Death listened more attentively to my prayers than normal—an idle fancy, I think, the result of my unsettled wits and no more. When my vigil was over two long hours later, I fell into my bed with nary a second thought. My mind had been stretched far beyond my normal comfort zone, and my body had been forced to bear the brunt of it. I was asleep again within moments.
And for that brief night at least, I slept deeply and without dreams.
Session Journal Three: January 24, 2009
Scrithengard time: Fifth Marketday to Sixth Triasday of Meriloom (early morning hours)
Axel and I rejoined Jour and Kiiren in the city and spent a day uneventfully in lodgings there. Boredom set in as well as a certain degree of concern for our future. The cloud giants were arguing downstairs quite audibly, so we asked Ektor to translate what he heard. Two different viewpoints have become pronounced in the giants’ society. First, one group wished to immediately launch an assault on the frost giant lair beyond the Dragon’s Maw, located at the end of a steep chasm. This view is held primarily by the small but vocal warrior caste. Opposing them are the giants that wish for revenge but first want to do what reconnaissance they could before rushing into battle, hopefully with the assistance of the sole remaining scout Olag. Unfortunately, Olag’s brother was the giant we found near the city and he himself desires vengeance. These two views are beginning to polarize the cloud giants. We offered our services to the giants as scouts and as thieves if need be, in order to reclaim an ancient artifact that the frost giants had stolen. Ilsa took us at our word and spoke with appropriate authorities.
The following day we were permitted to wander the city. Axel and Jour began to assess the situation, learning much of what I have already written. Kiiren and I visited the library for our own reasons, where I learned of the ancient history of the giants dating back almost to the Cataclysm. Unfortunately, they seem to lack information that I require for my own purposes, but I learned of the origins of the giants’ feud with the frost giants. The frost giants had been allied centuries ago with the white dragon Kepeskrioz, an ancient wyrm of much cunning and unusual skill with magic, while the cloud giants counted the silver dragon Itmiskalti as their ally. Kepeskrioz created an artifact—a weapon, a large gem, none can say—that has been claimed by both parties for ages. Xartzith’darr, the last known dragon of his line, would also like to claim it if possible. The frost giants have stolen this artifact, kept safe in an adamantine reliquary and consecrated with spells to ward against the undead and hidden as well. We suspect that the King Immortal in some way assisted the frost giants and may be in league with their jarl, Icerage, to keep the item away from us as it may prove to be powerful enough to destroy his remaining phylactery.
When we reconvened, we met up with Brigitta, the matriarch of the cloud giants. She was happy to speak with us and to our surprise she was a worshipper of Pirs. We negotiated with her for a time, agreeing to do what we could to spy out the enemy numbers, perhaps slay a few here and there, and attempt to locate the artifact if not retrieve it. We broached our desire to use the item as a means of destroying the King Immortal’s phylactery, but whether or not we can borrow the artifact if we retrieve it or take it with us for later use is unknown and up to the community. I also asked that they consult their archives for alternative weapons in our battle against the lich should our usage of the artifact prove unpalatable. Birgitta pressed us with the understanding that the warriors were likely to march to war soon—too soon, given their anger. The cloud giants are capable warriors and planners and likely to win a conflict with their smaller cousins if prepared, but the superior numbers of frost giants work against them if good tactics are not employed by the larger giants. We were given a day to leave and get to the Dragon’s Maw, inform our hosts of our arrival, a day to reconnoiter, and then return. A means of communication in the form of two feather tokens and a means of moving the reliquary were supplied. To prepare, my colleagues bought magic to help with the problems of Jour’s lack of stealth and to gather a few spells while I approached the temples and spent time becoming as familiar with them as possible in order to prepare a speedy return later via magic. While I was present, the Speaker of Tria approached me and we spoke for a time. Later that night I rested and prepared spells in anticipation of our trip to the Dragon’s Maw.
I moved us quickly to the region with a wind walk incantation but the treacherous weather forced us to halt our quick advance. After a brief debate, we began a slow advance through the snow and darkness, Axel leading, then Kiiren, and finally Jour and I. The lack of light proved to be troublesome for most of us, a problem as severe as our overall lack of stealth perhaps. We managed to bypass one group of five giants through the use of a silence spell, two invisibility spells, and the acquired stealth skills of Axel and Kiiren. Our efforts to avoid a second group were thwarted by the presence of a skilled scout amidst the group of four giants we encountered and battle broke out. Axel moved in and out of the shadows, letting the darkness serve as his shield while he whittled away at our larger foes. Kiiren’s arrows supplied a continuous barrage that slowed the giants’ advance long enough for Jour to say a prayer to Pirs for strength and then wade into battle. For my part, I called on the powers at my command to halt the giants in their tracks for precious seconds, keeping them from moving while we cut them down. Several well-placed blasts from my wand were followed by a quick spell to heal the wounds Axel and Jour received to the berserker in our foes’ ranks, but we cut them down in time. But off in the distance a torch has been lit; my wand may very well have warned our foes of our existence. The group we left behind may also have been alerted, forcing us to defend ourselves from assaults on both sides or face my Mistress if we cannot find an alternative.
Almost caught up. Just need to post my conversation with the Speaker and we'll be ready for Saturday's game. Comments are welcome! Hopefully I'll get around to explaining a few things here soon as well.
Another note.
I forgot to mention that we leveled up after session 2. Jour gained a paladin level, Kiiren a wizard level, Axel a level of shadowdancer, and Morag gained a level of contemplative. Apparently our DM thought we'd done a wonderful job of roleplaying and whatnot and gave us a level.
Session Three: Interlude
Conversing with the Speaker of Tria (Diamond Kingdoms)
The Speaker, the same old giant who had tended to the desecrated scout—Olag’s brother, I later learned—noticed that I had begun studying the center of the temple arcade and approached slowly, so as not to disturb my meditations. As much as a 15-foot tall giant can avoid disturbing your meditations by walking toward you, to be fair. He waited until I acknowledged him to query me regarding my studies. I informed him that I hoped to use the arcade as the site for our return via a word of recall incantation. He gave me permission to do so—permission which I had hoped to obtain before our departure, but I admit that it is frequently easier to beg forgiveness than to ask permission. I thanked him graciously for his generosity. He waited patiently for me to end my meditations before speaking with me once again.
"I have a request to give you. I would hope it is not burdensome. It is certainly nothing so complicated nor dangerous as scouting out the Frost Clan." I waited patiently and nodded, curious as to his designs on my future.
"I am an old man, long in service having been touched by our Holy Mother. I've seen you in my dreams, Gatherer of Souls, and I know that though you are ultimately touched by a Power that is Mother to our Mother, the geas pressed upon you ultimately places you in a very sacred duty to our mother, perhaps more sacred than any duty possessed by my fellow brethren in Tria's service.
"But it draws you along a path that is ultimately one side of the sacred coin held by our Mother. I worry—and I realize it may be an unfounded worry—for your sense of balance. And such a thing must be maintained when tasked with something as enormous as what is placed before you. Thus I have a request for you. A... mission of sorts. It is not a geas or quest, and it is requested by me alone—I will not pretend I am burdening you with more requests of the gods.”
I interjected at this point.
“Speaker, I admit that I serve but one side of the coin as you have phrased it. I serve Death. That is who I am. Am I balanced? I cannot say. To me, the balance is one of life and death, the living of life and the ending of life. But while my task is to see that the souls of the dying make the trip to Tria's Womb once more, you will find that I will pass those souls back to the Mother's care with reluctance. Death does not seek an immediate end to all that live—she knows that in time we will all come to her. It is my task to ensure that all of us go only in our proper time and not before—or after.” I paused for a moment to let my words settle.“But I will hear your request, revered Speaker, as you serve one who I respect and revere greatly.”
Tria’s Speaker spoke up at this time.
"The mission is this: You know our Mother births our souls when a babe breathes its first breath in the world, and we return to her womb when our bodies end. You have acted as a shepherd at so many of these endings, as your duty dictates. But I would ask you... when you have the opportunity... seek out a birth. Observe it; assist if you can, administer the sacred rites of birth-blessing. It is my hope, you will learn from it as much about your sacred duty as you do from funereal rites... if perhaps more."
His tone was gentle and contemplative as he made this request, his smile as gentle as falling snow. "Again this is no 'quest,' and I have no 'reward' for you should you do this. If you choose not to, I'll pass no judgment. If you do complete it and wish to speak with me of your observations, I will welcome you, but at the same time, you must travel far and our city is not the easiest to access.”
I pondered his words for a minute, perhaps longer, seeking out the best manner in which to answer his question. The wash of my emotions required that I formulate my answer with care. I had no desire to break down into tears before this kindly old giant.
“Your request . . . is troubling, Speaker. You may be asking more of me than you know. I do not know how much the Mother has informed you of me, but much of my past is naught but a blank slate, unremembered save in my nightmares. But in the forgotten past I know this: I loved a man. He was young, tall, not strong but quick of mind and sure of hand. His hair was as dark as my own, his eyes the color of the sea. I remember his smile, knowing and gentle. This was my husband.” I admit that I let a bit of longing seep into my voice. It is still strange to me that I pine for a person I cannot properly remember. “He is dead, and I cannot remember his name nor the manner of his death save that it was not a pleasant one, nor a swift and painless death.” I let out an explosive sigh and forced the next words past my lips with great reluctance.
“I never bore his child, of this I am sure.”
“When I stood on the threshold between this world and the next, when I came to the attention of Death, she named me Death's Mistress: "I am your mistress, as you are mine." And since that day I have served Death and will do so forevermore. I will have no man in my bed as my lover or by my side as my husband. All the warmth and companionship that others seek and gain solace from is denied me. I am denied a child of my own. Is this my own decision? Yes. I will not claim that a higher power has denied me this. It is only for my own sake that I do this. Tria, may She bless this world forever, is not dying to my knowledge. I have seen no signs, no omens of this. My own divinations say nothing of the passing of our Mother. So I must prepare myself for that day. The only way I can see to do this is to find a path to never-ending life, yet avoid the pitfalls and blasphemy of undeath. While I do not fear Death, only the manner of my demise, I do not know what would be my fate when I pass from the world. Will I be returned, an old soul in a newborn's body? Will I fail in my task if I do not do so? These are questions for which I have no answers.” The Speaker listened attentively to my words, sympathy evident on his wizened face for my plight.
“I digress, pray forgive me.” I shook my head, wondering briefly. It seems that I am apt at finding sympathetic ears wherever I go.
“As I have said, I am denied a child by my circumstances. I have duties that will not be denied. I have much to learn before my duty to Tria is discharged. The time to raise a child is an investment of years, but it is my fear that if I walk the world now then something must have begun that has instigated my existence. But let us say that I am wrong and that Tria is safe and well for many centuries to come. I would raise a child of my own flesh, nurture him, watch his first steps, and sing him to sleep each night. I would know of every scrape, tumble, and fall. I would see his first love. In time, I would see his family.”
“And one day, I would watch him die. And as I brought him into this world, I would Gather him to the next.” Did the Speaker know how much this admission cost me? The giant is a wise elder of his people and faith, so I suspect that he did.
“And I would do the same with his children, and then his children, time after time, my family lost to me by mortality. That way lays madness, if I am not mad already. I am but a woman. It is for Tria to see the beginning and ending of life. And those that serve her, as you do. I would not withstand that strain, bringing children into the world and then losing them in time. No parent should have to bury their child.”
“So I avoid the birthing-bed when I can, for I have no desire to be reminded of what I have lost in choosing service to Death. Have I avoided it entirely? No. For my first winter—that I remember, to be fair—I lived among a small kobold tribe. I learned the fundamentals of the healing arts there with their priest. I helped to deliver births there, though I never gave the full rites: I did not know them.” I smiled here wistfully, the memories of that faraway place surprisingly heartwarming. “It is among them that I came to be known as the Gatherer of Souls.”
“The next year I lived in small town far in the western frontier of Haven among humans. I refined my skills there and learned a bit from the few servants of Tria who were present. But again, while I have delivered children into the world, I have never given the birthing-rite. I have never considered it my place, though I know the procedure. Tria is the Mother of this world. I am but one woman dedicated to the end of life, that one event that most sentient creatures fear and despise. And those villagers were not ready to deal with the reality of my existence. They could barely understand my presence, and I told them little of who I was. They needed no reminders that Death was present out there on the frontier.” I sighed here, more an effort to ease my throat than to express myself, I think. I seem to be spending much of my time explaining myself to others of late, but a sympathetic listener is all-too-rare sometimes. Edrel once told me that a burden shared is a burden divided. Maybe he was right.
Session Three Interlude (cont.)
“If the Mother has seen fit to send you dreams to inform you, I must believe she has a purpose. I am loath to deny her anything, and it would seem to me that she has a purpose in this. Whatever has moved you to ask this of me, whether genuine concern for the well-being of a woman you have known only through your dreams and a newfound acquaintance or the will of the Mother, I will do as you ask. But know this: I will do this when I can. I am currently tasked with a more immediate quest to end the existence of the King Immortal in this world and send him to his long-overdue afterlife. This may be long in coming, but I will do it nonetheless.”
After concealing some surprise at the mention of my—our—quest to end the King Immortal, the giant shook his shaggy head. "There is no deadline on this, no great urgency. Just a request of an old man, who may relatively soon return to the Mother's Womb himself." His tone was that of an old man resigned to having short years, though I did not sense that he was currently at death's door. "I understand, child," he continued not unkindly, as a very large and old man might address someone small and relatively young, "that what I ask you to observe is not easy. I was not aware of all the difficulties you might have, and I apologize if the thought of it has brought you unneeded pain. But even to one not in your circumstances, it is a most bloody and traumatic event to participate in." He smiles strangely, lightly. "I understand you have more pressing matters to attend with. Certainly, deal with them. Simply if the opportunity arises, it is something you might do."
I nodded in agreement, considering what he had told me.
“Let me in turn ask of you this: Am I now a tool of another's prophecy? Do you hope that I will find someone in particular? A halfling companion had mentioned that it may be my task to find the person who might replace Tria one day. The thought is strangely comforting, but I am not privy to the words of the Mother as you are. Is this the case, and can you say? Or is this truly just a concern for my sense of balance? For if it is the will of the Mother that I find one child in the world, that bears a decidedly different weight than your personal request. That will not change my decision, mind.”
He furrowed his great lined brow in some puzzlement. "I have dreamed of your purpose, seen you wander the paths of the world and of time and the worlds beyond, shepherding all souls including the very one of this world. That is all I know. I would think that would be enough prophecy for a mortal woman to be pawn of. Any further answers to that question would lie in the heart and voice of the one who grants you your divine gifts." He shook his head. "As far as I know, this is my idea alone. Our Mother does not intervene directly in most affairs of her children, even those like you and me. But... on the other hand, she chooses those to bear her gifts ones with a mind to oversee, not interfere." He smiled then, almost amused with himself. "So if I am suddenly of an urge to be meddlesome, shall I blame Our Mother, who is intervening subtly, or my mortal foibles?" He shook his head again, frowning in thought for a moment. "I don't know. But until I know better, I shall bear the weight of this on my own shoulders alone, and you may resent me or accept me for it."
"I bear you no resentment, Speaker. What you ask is not a great thing, as the bard's stories go. Sooner or late, I will find myself in a city again. Or a village. Perhaps even when I return from this mission. And I will do this." I smiled in simple amusement, a rare sight. "Though the prospect of delivering a giant's child is somewhat daunting, I admit. And should one day I find this is Tria's work, using you as her tool, I bear her no ill will on the matter. For she is the greater steward of this world, and we the lesser, and you are one of her children, as am I. It is in the nature of deities to act upon the world and those that live on it." I learned that lesson well, at least.
“I also have need to ask of you information, perhaps a favor. I am but one woman, a human woman. I have no great quantity of physical strength even among my own people; I fear that my rebirth was physically traumatic. When we go through the Dragon's Maw, we may find ourselves in battle despite our best efforts. Axel and Kiiren are skilled in moving unseen, but Jour and I are not.” I confess to no skill in the art of remaining unseen. To be honest, few in society want to mark my coming and most avidly wish for my departure, so avoiding the gaze of others has never been something I felt was necessary. “We may be forced to slay your kindred there. I would not leave even ones such as they to rise again to haunt the world. How may I ensure that they pass peacefully? We will not have time nor resources to burn them, as we would do in the south. You used magic to disintegrate the corpse of your fellow giant. What would be an acceptable means of sending their souls to Tria's womb once more, should the need arise?”
"You observed our death rituals, and they are not too dissimilar to your own, I don't think,” the Speaker replied thoughtfully. “We do burn our fallen here, to let our bodies rejoin the clouds. The Frost Giants I believe... bury their fallen in rock cairns. The use of the gem is not a usual practice, and we only have a handful of those. Since our child was so desecrated, I used that as a precaution to help release both soul and body from unnatural torment. If you wish to give a fallen member of Frost Clan rites, their souls should be released, destruction of the body or no. Thinking cynically, it does leave the body open to being raised as a zombie, and even then less so if it is properly consecrated...but no necromancy is practiced here, and in my own lifetime I've never encountered the undead. I think the last record of seeing an undead creature in this part of the world was... oh, centuries ago. Maybe even five hundred years or more. If your friends are in haste to avoid an untimely voyage to Tria's Womb, I would not expect you to take the time to burn the fallen."
I nodded in understanding, relieved to know how to best deal with potential problems in the night ahead. While my companions have been tolerant of my duties, I doubted that they would desire to spend the night burning corpses or raising cairns on the mountains.
"Thank you for your time, Speaker, and your assistance in our preparations. Let me offer you something in token of your aid, an offer between two that serve the gods, two that serve life and death. When you feel that your time has come to return to Tria's Womb, you may call me. And if I can, I will come and lead you to the Shadowed Veil." I smiled then, a sad and bitter smile. "If I may, I would suggest that you call in the night. My need for sleep is diminished and I find that I have more time to work in those hours. Take the offer for what it is, act upon it as you choose. I can travel swiftly at need, though I am no mage; I lack their powers to cross the land in an instant save in the most specific in cases." I glanced down at the floor of the temple. "But you know this. And this conversation has been unusually enlightening, surprising, and sad. It is time for me to depart. My companions have been preparing for the trip to the Dragon's Maw without me. I need a brief rest before I offer prayers to Death and renew my powers, and then we leave." I bowed, hands crossed over my chest, palms flat against my breasts. "Merry meet, and merry part, and merry meet again, Speaker."
"Our Mother keep you in health, and Varan bless the road you walk on, and may all the Council of Gods smile upon you." The Speaker said in way of farewell. He departed to his own duties, while I returned to the lodging we had been provided, lost in thought, a memory just beyond my grasp.
Hey! We have a thread (with Morag posting nonstop while I wrote this). I almost feel badly breaking the lovely dark feel of our chronicler's prose, but I figure I ought to put some campaign notes up for any casual viewers (and for the party to reference).
The campaign world is as mentioned, called Scrithengard, or Wanderer's World. It is a "prime" set within the standard D&D multiverse (so, homebrew world, but the outer cosmology is the same as many other D&D worlds). The influences are a lot of high fantasy merged with a bit of Greek mythology.
A little over a thousand years ago, Scrithengard mortals uncovered magics they shouldn't and waged war against their elemental gods. The war was of such ferocity that the very essence of chaos arose and began to fracture the world, dragging it into the Abyss. The Mother of the World, Tria cried into the cosmos for help and was answered by an exiled demipower called the Wanderer (named as such for his endless travels through the Astral Plane), who summoned the destructive magics into himself, allowing Tria to heal herself. The Wanderer couldn't hold what he absorbed, however, and shattered, mind, body, and soul, into millions of pieces. Some of his essence merged with Tria's healing waters, spawning 12 new gods (the 4 original gods were killed in the Cataclysm). Tria forbade them from fighting on the surface, and only allow her children to visit the prime in Avatar form for limited periods of time. The world was "given" to the most ambitious and adventurous mortal souls--those most like their savior the Wanderer-- surviving the Cataclysm to do as they will--hence, "Wanderer's World."
Other bits of the Wanderer apparently crystallized into gems called "Wanderer's Shards." These in the hands of a strongwilled individual can be used to affect powerful magics on the world---but each shard is a bit individual, and some might overtake its bearer or destroy them rather than be used by it. A few have managed to take bits of Shard and forge it into an alchemical alloy, which is easier to manage. Axel and Jour (along with compatriots from the previous campaign) were awarded Shard Alloy items which have grown in power as the adventurers have (Axel's rapier reflects his "shockingly" swift nature, and Jour's shield bolsters his own strength but also aids him in shielding his allies, as he fights to protect others).
Morag and Kiiren have powerful relatively unique items as well (Morag's gloves blessed by her deity; Kiiren's bow and the now-broken artifact that brought him to Scrithengard when he was trying to escape [strike]4th edition[/strike] a cataclysm in his own world.
I could go on and on but I'll stop here, and if anyone wants me to explain anything further (like the nations or the gods), ask and I'll do my best.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Here is a map of the campaign world. Be warned it is a bit big (I didn't want to lose detail).
http://www.deathquaker.org/gaming/images/scrithmap.jpg
Party started near the crossroads north of Liberty, Haven and south of Gloameet, Vargild. They're currently near the big mountain with all the clouds around it, waaaaaay up north.
Gods, we teleported and wind walked a looooooooooong way . . . .
Grats on what looks and sounds like an awesome setting and great game. With that level of RP I can see why she'd just give you guys a level, you deserve it. Be warned I may steal any good ideas you put up for my game. I'm looking forward to your future posts.
Grats on what looks and sounds like an awesome setting and great game. With that level of RP I can see why she'd just give you guys a level, you deserve it. Be warned I may steal any good ideas you put up for my game. I'm looking forward to your future posts.
Thanks! I doubt anyone will mind idea-thievery. I certainly can't argue against it, my name and concept aren't exactly brand-new! There will be a game tomorrow, so I will post as soon after as possible, no more than a few days after. I can't speak for the others in the game on that matter.
I have my ice tea and baked goods already set for the next chapter, eargerly awaiting the next post.
Love this "series" so far, it sounds as if it would make a great plot for a novel the way it is written.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Session Journal Four: February 7, 2009
Scrithengard time: Sixth Triasday of Meriloom (early morning hours)-Sixth Journsday of Meriloom (early morning hours)
We found ourselves in a precarious situation today. Our initial battle with the giants had alerted their compatriots near the Dragon’s Maw to our presence as well as the giants further into the chasm. Axel quickly scampered up the mountainside to do reconnaissance as we made our way back into the cul-de-sac where the now-dead giants had camped. I assisted Jour as he built an impromptu barricade and bonfire in order to slow the advance of the giants we anticipated and give us light to see by. Kieren moved boulders into position to assist in our defense, but our efforts did not prove fruitful as the attack we anticipated came from above. A large winged humanoid dropped a flask of alchemist’s fire into our midst and flew off before we could retaliate. While the damage was minimal, the urgency of our situation was now readily apparent.
Axel returned and led us to a nearby unexplored side trail that culminated in a large cave. Kieran’s keen eyes picked out the prints of an enormous bear in the ice and snow outside of the cave mouth, but we entered nonetheless, hoping to avoid the creature that had bombarded us from on high and to elude pursuit. The cave quickly branched, one fork echoing with the sound of a sleeping bear, the other leading toward a pool of water. At my urging, Kieran quickly rigged a simple trip line that would clatter loudly from some twine and a few old copper coins. I hope that a few giants found that line and awoke the bear, but at the least it was meant to alert us if our foes found us.
The pool of water was fed from a glacier above the cave. An examination of the water revealed it to be clear and pure, save for the old remains of a giant or two near the bottom. The trickle of water that filled the pool revealed another means of egress in the form of a narrow tunnel. Seeing no better options, we resumed gaseous form and floated up into through the tunnel. The tunnel led us to an older surface tunnel that was blocked by ice at both ends. We employed Jour’s flaming battle axe to melt a hole through the ice and thus escape to the surface once more.
We found ourselves far up the mountain and now a modest distance away from our starting point. The pass was windy but still calmer than where we had left our giant adversaries, so we continued to wind walk through the pass in an effort to reach the far end of the chasm. Our mountain pass soon tapered away to nothing but left us standing before a large boulder, easily ten feet in diameter, which blocked a cave passageway. The boulder was also coated in ice that served to cover the gaps between the boulder and the cavern mouth. This challenge was quickly dealt with via an incantation to shape the stone around the cavern mouth into a small tunnel large enough for our wispy bodies to use as means of entrance. Kieran’s acid spells cleared the last of the ice from my impromptu air duct and we deployed his small familiar as a scout. The familiar he has bonded with is one I have never seen nor heard of before, a bundle of animate sticks and twigs. The creature scouted the tunnel beyond the boulder and returned quickly, now burnt from a trap it had inadvertently triggered. A quick touch by Jour, backed by the grace of Pirs, healed the creature of its wounds. Axel scouted the tunnel next and found that the corridor beyond the boulder was blocked by another boulder identical to the first, including the ice that sealed the gaps, only forty or so feet beyond our entrance. Axel’s skill with traps came to the fore as he disabled the glyph that covered the second boulder with a few quick strokes of chalk.
Once we rejoined the shadowdancer, we discussed briefly the ramifications of the traps on the corridor and quickly concluded that the disturbance of the initial trap and the disabling of the second might well have warned their creator of a disturbance. Sobered by this knowledge we melted another small gap in the ice, this time atop the second boulder, and employed an arcane eye courtesy of Kieran to scout beyond. Our fears were soon made real as the elven ranger reported a dozen frost giants at the ready beyond the boulder, all arrayed for battle in what was revealed to be a bedchamber. In the corridor beyond stood our winged humanoid and four more giants, and now we knew that the humanoid was a frost giant that bore signs of decidedly draconic heritage in the form of claws and scales. Luck favored us, however, and we also spotted a large bag held aloft via an immovable rod that we suspected held the object of our quest.
Many ideas were discussed as to how to proceed, but ultimately Axel and Kieran decided upon the course we undertook. Axel shadow-jumped under the cover of invisibility to the bag and grabbed it, rod and all, before returning to us via the same power. We maintained watch as we sorted through the bag’s contents. Unfortunately, we found gems, loose coins, and silver dust that might serve me well in the enchantment of various items in the future. The reliquary was nowhere to be found, and we lacked sufficient time to determine if the jarl possessed it on his person. A new conversation erupted and we decided to hide within the tunnel and rest in order to give the giants time to lower their guard and to prepare for a day of battle, for our magics had been more suited to spying and reconnaissance than battle for the day.
My brief rest was further shortened by Axel’s urgent shaking not long after. As I awoke, Axel roused Jour and Kieren to wakefulness and indicated the cause of his concern. The boulder that led to the giants was starting to melt away beneath a giant’s magic. An older, battle-scarred giant was partly visible in the dim light. Once the others were ready, I gathered them together and invoked a sacred word to return us to the temple arcade of the cloud giants. We departed without knowing what god the giant—undoubtedly a Chosen—served. Nor did we know if he spotted us before our departure.
We quickly made our way to the matriarch’s home in the city, letting the dim light hide our presence, and reported our findings to our newly-awakened friend. A council of war soon ensued. One thought at the table was to take a cloud giant or two with us for our return trip, but we eventually discarded that idea. Further discussion returned us to our own mission, and we four decided that we would return to that tunnel and continue our exploration. This time, however, we would return prepared for battle.
That decision was the most telling of the day.
Kieren resupplied himself with arrows and purchased a scroll of arcane magic. He soon revealed that he would use the spell on said scroll—teleport—to quickly return us to the giant’s very bedchamber. We would also employ multiple invisibility spells to make our entrance as stealthy as possible. The next day, we would return and find the reliquary.
I prayed briefly over Jour before we departed to grant him greater physical strength and then again to place a spell to protect myself on my person. Kieren cast his spells to hide us from sight and then broke the seal on his scroll. He intoned the spell with surety despite its power and a moment later we were within the bedchamber. Upon our arrival we found that our half-dragon giant foe was asleep scarcely ten strides from our arrival point.
I confess that I do not know why I did what I did next. Perhaps it was simple fear that motivated me. Perhaps I wanted to see a quick end to our business. I do not know, and I hope Death will forgive me for what I asked. Not knowing exactly where Axel stood, I bent low and whispered aloud, knowing that he would hear me. All I asked of him: ‘Axel, why don’t you slice his throat now and save us the risk of a battle?’
One more sin to atone for.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Session Four: continued
Axel apparently tried to comply with my request, thinking it a good one. To our dismay, he tripped a hidden magical alarm as he approached the mound of furs that served as Icerage’s bed. Loud keening awoke the monster instantly, sending him to his feet searching the room for intruders. Maybe that alarm was Death telling me that my plan, as simple as it was, was still a poor choice morally, ethically, and spiritually.
Kieren responded first. A flurry of arrows sped by my ear, but Icerage was not befuddled by sleep. Only one arrow struck home, grazing the giant’s chest as Kieren appeared from the empty air. Icerage, a veteran warrior, exhaled a blast of freezing air into our ranks, not knowing where we were but seeing a target at which he could strike. The cold scored Jour, Kieren, and I though Axel nimbly dodged aside. Axel slipped forward and struck repeatedly at Icerage, slashing across his ankles, fading into view in a flurry of strokes. I heard Jour pass by as I blasted the jarl with the fires of heaven, burning him badly.
Four berserkers charged into the room from the hallway. The first stumbled but closed with Axel, knocking prone Jour, who had take up a position at the door in an effort to slow the ingress of reinforcements. Icerage attempted to shred our halfling compatriot with minimal success, but the arriving giants spotted me in the back of the room. A large rock reacquainted me with the sensation of physical pain as the first giant hurled a stone into me. Kieren brought fire to the fray as well, singing several giants with a fireball. The fray grew frenzied now as we sought to finish the jarl before his reinforcements could fully come to bear against us. Jour was caught in another of Kieren’s fireballs, while another stone left me with one arm nearly useless at my side. Jour rose and charged the jarl. The very air was charged with fire and holy power as Jour called upon Pirs to hear his prayers and to bring ruin upon the evil foe we faced. Jour faded into view just as his flaming axe cleaved into Icerage’s leg with all the force of the paladin’s charge and holy might.
Icerage collapsed to the floor. The light in his eyes grew dim as we watched, a glimmer of hope in our hearts. The draconic giant cursed us, hoping that we would find the owner of the object we sought—for, he whispered with his dying breath, he had it not. Those words were quickly swept from our conscious minds as the battle intensified.
The berserkers were enraged at the loss of their leader. Jour, already injured by ice and fire, fell as one giant raised his axe high overhead and brought it down with the force of the mountains. My paladin friend fell to the floor, the greataxe spilling his blood on the floor before I could reach him to heal his injuries. My own efforts only assisted Axel, Kieren, and I in remaining alive in the face of the giant’s onslaught as I ducked behind Icerage’s furniture to avoid a fatal attack. For a time I wondered if we would lose the battle. The thought that I would fail in the tasks set before me brought a spark of rage to life in my heart.
Kieren continued to fire arrows at one gravely wounded giant as Axel crossed the distance to Jour and forced a potion down his friend’s throat. The potion restored Jour, forcing him away from the Shadowed Veil and Tria’s Womb. Jour called upon the grace of Pirs and healed his own injuries as much as he could, but Axel was now caught between two giants. Blows rained down upon him but he managed to dodge the worst of the assault through speed and luck.
I retaliated against our aggressive foes by creating a wall of slashing steel in their ranks. One giant was badly injured by the shrieking blades, but the two that flanked Axel and Jour quickly leapt aside, dodging the attack. The fourth giant hung back, considering his options. We rallied and finally began to whittle our foes down. First the giant that had brought Jour low fell to Kieren and Axel. Seeing his companion fall, a berserk giant closed the gap to Kieren. The giant brought his blade in low in a great sweeping arc that ended with spilled elven blood and a scream of agony.
The spark of rage became an inferno. Kieren still stood, badly wounded but alive. Axel and Jour faced the remaining giant but were wounded. I fed my anger into my next incantation. I am most skilled with necromantic magics, magics meant to bring the living to life’s end. I possess some skill with divinations, always seeking to see what events will unfold. Evoking elemental energy is something I can do, but I do not have especial skill in it. Death felt my anger, I think, and moved her pawn on the board that was the battlefield in an effort to avoid the early arrival of undeserving souls.
A storm of fiery power erupted at my command. My will shaped the flames into an instrument of divine retribution, searing the giants. Kieren’s foe fell to the flames, as did one of the two that beset the paladin and shadowdancer. The third stood defiant but barely alive, his flesh charred nearly to nothing. The last giant had quickly run into the room and snatched Icerage’s cloak and regalia, the symbols that represented his leadership over the Frost Clan, and begun to run away from the battle.
The flames caught him in the hall in midstride. He crashed to the ground, his body blackened by the will of Death.
Kieren’s arrows felled the last giant with a pair of well-placed arrows to the face, ending the brawl with finality. Axel shadow-jumped past my blades to recover the regalia while I began to heal our wounds and Kieren efficiently searched the bodies for valuables. Axel found a female frost giant in the hall as he attempted to gather the regalia. Negotiation ensued, resulting in an exchange that sent Axel back to us without the regalia.
As Kieren claimed the solid quartz crown that Icerage bore, we asked Axel about the regalia. At first he claimed it to be of no value—costume jewelry and no more. Neither Kieren nor I believed this tale, as we both knew it bore symbolic significance to the giants if nothing else. When pressed, Axel reported his conversation with the giantess and what he had gained in trade for the regalia. For Axel’s efforts, he learned that the dragon Xartzithdarr now held the reliquary in his lair at the end of the chasm we had begun our journey in. In exchange, the giantess told him that the Frost Clan would not prosecute a war against the cloud giants. She kept the regalia, most likely for her own purposes, but perhaps to help her keep her word on the matter, for I imagine that the regalia’s loss might incite the frost giants. As Kieren and Axel argued over the treasure we’d lost, I quickly grew weary of the exchange and returned us to the cloud giants with a word.
Birgitta was overjoyed at the news we brought and claimed the quartz crown as an item of significance to giantkind, promising fair recompense for it. I could understand her relief, as now her kindred would not need to fight a war that would result in the loss of many lives. She cautioned us regarding the dragon, reminding us that wars had already been fought over what we had come to claim. The relic had been created to endow power on its creator, Kepeskerioz, even perhaps beyond death. It would be understandable if his descendant wanted the item for the same cause, foolish as it may be to seek out that which cannot be found. Nothing and no one is beyond Death; we can only delay the inevitable, not avoid it entirely. But we did not let these words dim our elation that we had avoided a war between the cloud giants and the frost giants. With this in mind, we now seek to rest, regroup, and prepare for our next mission: to reach Xartzithdarr in his lair and gain the reliquary by whatever means necessary.
I want to note as GM, _I_ at least had a blast during this session (even though I got overwhelmed at one point by the party's ever-changing plans ;) ).
For both victorious fights and fights avoided through stealth and diplomacy, plus craploads of roleplay and creative problem solving, and of course taking the backest of back door routes I had anticipated the party taking, the party gained enough XP to gain a level (this is not just from this session but the last two as well).
World notes of randomness:
The Cloud Giant City (which has no name other than that) is a bit of a misnomer. There probably aren't more than 20 adult cloud giants in their prime (plus a bevy of elders and children), so by population, it's more of the "Cloud Giant Hamlet." But when medium sized people see vast, elegantly carved marble and granite buildings to house 15 foot tall people, it tends to get labeled "city."
Also, minorly, the White Dragon is "Xarzith'darr." No t.
I hate it when I misspell things. From my own notes. I was trying to figure out that 't'. Oh well.
Next time we'll see how we can overly complicate the approach to ye old Dragon's Lair. And, for that matter, what insane magic item creation we want to do. Knowing us, it'll be ludicrous!
I hate it when I misspell things. From my own notes. I was trying to figure out that 't'. Oh well.
Next time we'll see how we can overly complicate the approach to ye old Dragon's Lair. And, for that matter, what insane magic item creation we want to do. Knowing us, it'll be ludicrous!
No problem with the spelling.
I think what amused me was this is the only case I've seen where the party successfully took the treasure before RETURNING to fight the boss protecting it. Of course the party had reason to return, but the general concept amuses me. Of course, I didn't have to design a back door into the giant's stronghold, but it seemed to make sense at the time. (The idea is Icerage had his own exit to escape/go visit his father, who lives at the other end of the upper pass.)
You haven't made any ludicrous item creation requests yet that I can recall. You clearly need to try harder. ;)
You haven't made any ludicrous item creation requests yet that I can recall. You clearly need to try harder. ;)
Wait till we talk about Kieren's desire for an everfull quiver. I heard mentions of goggles to help with our general lack of nightvision. And this hasn't touched anyone's desire to do anything else like upgrade equipment. I'll probably fire an email at the others to think about anything they might want done. Of course, the nearest source of treasure is that dragon . . . but we also don't know what the value of a crown of solid quartz happens to be, either.
And I think in the backs of our minds we're all still remembering that there are some not-nice people out there, planning to take over the world, who are advancing their plots while we're up here in the far north.
For reference, here is a very, very, very rough map of the Frost Giant pass. It's slightly comical looking, for which I apologize, but I just wanted to quickly sketch up something to hopefully give folks a better sense of the area the party is traveling in.
The "misted" bits are areas the party has not explored yet.
http://www.angelfire.com/id/deathquaker/gaming/images/frostgiantmountains.j pg
RE: magic items and goggles. Oddly, this very message board has a discussion somewhere mentioning certain optics being made from quartz. Interesting, that.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Session Five:March 21, 2009
Scrithengard Dates: Sixth Journsday of Meriloom-First Journsday of Varloom
A night's rest was required before we were physically, mentally, and emotionally prepared for the task before us. As promised, Birgitta delivered to us a reward for the quartz crown we claimed from Icerage. The reward included a scroll of arcane magic now with Kieren, a scroll of spells for myself (shield of faith, 2 castings, 6th level), and a circlet of persuasion, now in Jour's capable hands. A few magical trinkets were purchased by the other members of the party while I spent a little more time hoping to learn more about Xarzith'darr, but we still departed in the early morning hours to meet our fates. But before we departed, I conjured up an immense meal blessed by divine power to strengthen our bodies and minds against the day's expected travails (heroes' feast).
The frost giants were still present in the region though in fewer numbers. As we had concluded our deal with them the previous day, we did not feel the need to interact with the large humanoids. Together we wind walked through the pass once more, avoiding the dire bear in its cave and slipping up to the entrance to the white dragon's lair undetected. Upon arrival, we resumed our own forms and began a cautious approach into the lair of the monster, Axel leading, Kieren trailing some fifty feet behind, and finally Jour and I bringing up the rear. Kieren's keen tracking skills picked up evidence of the dragon's presence immediately upon arrival. Axel painstakingly searched the entry for traps but found none. Heaving a small sigh of relief, we began our exploration of Xarzith'darr's home.
The caverns twisted and turned a bit until we reached a fork in the path. The left branch continued onward, while the right branch immediately forked several times. While I did not hear any noise, the others heard a strange chittering sound from the right fork. A quick consultation between us was necessary, but we decided to ignore the sounds and continue onward, certain that the sounds were not of draconic origin and aware of the risks if we were attacked from the rear. Other branches were ignored as we drove onward, the path curving back on itself until we were unexpectedly met by a cavern that stood filled with fog and mist. We convened once more, suspicious of the mist, and I agreed to try to dispel the unlikely fog.
And Xarzith'darr struck.
Wind as cold as a miser's heart blasted us from the fog, bearing a bitter frost. Jour and Kieren dodged the worst of it by dint of divine faith and speed, but Axel was unexpectedly slow to dodge. My own flesh bore the brunt of assault worst of all, my reactions too slow by far. We survived the attack and retaliated. Kieren launched a fireball into the mist where the outline of the dragon was visible, briefly parting the fog and striking the first blow against the dragon. A glimpse of an immense creature, easily twice my height and several times as long, could be seen as the dragon roared its pain. I quickly chanted my incantation and attempted to dismiss the fog but only met with partial success as the fog lightened somewhat but did not wholly vanish. Jour began to approach, muttering a prayer for strength as he closed with the dragon that clung to the cavern wall above our heads. Axel soon scampered up the wall nimbly but was surprised by the dragon's quick attack. The halfling vanished from sight as the dragon bit down with the speed of a snake and grabbed Axel in his fangs. Kieren began an incantation to give Jour magical flight but his concentration failed as he watched the dragon's flight and the spell failed. Axel leapt from the shadows nearby to escape the grasp of Xarzith'darr, only to suffer the same fate again as the dragon leapt into the air and bore down on him once more. Jour taunted the creature, unable to strike the foe overhead, and called up a spirit from beyond that strengthened the blows of those nearby.
I began to heal the injuries the dragon's breath had dealt, only to find wounds dealt to Jour as fast as I healed him. Axel came to my side as well, once more leaping from the shadows, and I closed the deep gashes in his flesh and returned him to full health. Kieren enchanted the paladin with the magic to climb, but the dragon's approach never let Jour close with our foe. Axel distracted the dragon with an audacious stunt, climbing the wall and leaping onto the dragon's back as Jour closed his dragon-wrought wounds with his own divine power from his new position on the floor. Axel's ring of the ram struck home with force, smashing Xarzith'darr's head downward but not moving the immense beast. A pillar of flame erupted at my command, singing the dragon with divine flame, followed by a flurry of spells to strengthen my friends' hearts and bodies. The dragon flew upward in an attempt to smash Axel into the ceiling and drop him some 75 feet to the floor, but Axel saved himself from a life-threatening fall with a quick burst of magic that slowed his descent to the floor to a light drop. Xarzith'darr's amusement rumbled overhead at Axel's antics, but Jour soon drew our foe's attention. Jour began to climb down the wall and soon began to approach the dragon's hoard.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Session Five continued
Xarzith'darr swooped down upon the paladin and struck with his deadly fangs, but Jour called upon the power of Pirs and returned to the dragon a divinely-empowered blow to the dragon's face. Kieren landed several perfectly-placed arrows in the dragon's stomach even as I called more flame from the heavens and Axel struck once more with his ring. Time almost slowed to a standstill for me as my divine fire came into being, the dragon roaring from his wounds. To my eyes, the fires guttered far more weakly than they should have. I felt a touch deep in my heart and a chill caress on my cheek that had nothing to do with the foe I battled.
'This creature need not die; I do not desire the end of Xarzith'darr,' Death whispered to me. 'His life, and his death, are yours to decide. Kill him or not, as you choose.'
I stood stunned by this brief touch from my patron, my thoughts scattered. I had not desired Xarzith'darr's demise from the outset, but battle had been thrust upon us before communication had been possible. I shook my head to clear it, about to call for a temporary cessation of hostilities, but I was too slow. Xarzith'darr, badly wounded by our sustained barrage of attacks, flew upward to an opening far overhead, telling us that the artifact we sought was ours-and that he hoped it would destroy us as it destroyed his sire, Kepeskerioz. Kieren raced up as the fog vanished and the dragon struggled to rise and let fly his arrows, bolts of force that struck home in the dragon's throat with perfect accuracy. Xarzith'darr screamed in agony and his wings failed him, sending the dragon plummeting groundward. Kieren threw himself away from the falling dragon but vanished as Xarzith'darr crashed down. Blood splattered us all as the great dragon died from Kieren's arrows and the subsequent impact. Kieren himself had survived by flinging himself to the ground where one wing hit, forming a tent of draconic skin to protect him from the worst of the damage.
We had won.
I began to pronounce final rites over our huge foe, all the while mourning the waste of life. Dragons live for centuries, yet we had cut short this life that had lasted longer than all of our own together. Kieren harvested what he could find of use from the dragon's corpse, including bones, teeth, scales, and blood. Jour and Axel began looting the dragon's hoard, finding the adamantine puzzle-box we had sought. Once Kieren finished his taxidermic work, he noted ancient writing on the walls-walls that were in part made from stone that pre-dated the Cataclysm! Together, we began to translate the few markings that time had not erased, including several notes scrawled by our fallen foe himself. The most ominous note was this: "Slay the Sire, Smash the Shard."
Together, we opened the puzzle-box to find that within was an immense ivory bow, sized for a giant's hands. The box collapsed upon itself into a cube a foot or so on each side. The bow itself shrank down to a size proportionate for a halfling when Axel touched it. To our shock, the weapon conveyed its eagerness to see the world once more into his mind and revealed its strength against the unliving. The bow was named Skrumerton (sorry, bad spelling), translated from Giantish as "Slayer of Death". We had found our artifact.
Once we had gathered what we found-including coins, magic, art, jewelry, gems, and other assorted items, I returned us to the temple with a word. We emerged into the dawn's light, covered in blood that was not all our own, triumphant. Birgitta greeted us when we arrived and saw the proof of our victory in Axel's hands. She praised us and gave us permission to keep all that we found in Xarzith'darr's lair, including the bow and the puzzlebox. We discussed what we had found in the lair and returned to our own quarters, concerned about our finds. For among the items we found were the remains of a Sheenoseki, perhaps more than one, for several items of magic were found of Sheenoseki origin. I kept an enchanted robe but seek to alter it to match the appearance of my ceremonial robes, for the robe of shadows will protect me from harm and enable greater stealth in my movements. I will not wear the garb of the people that murdered me, but I will turn it to my own purposes! There was also clear evidence that the clergy of Skaden are involved, for a holy symbol dedicated to the Deceiver was in the hoard as well-at least until I melted it with divine fire. The other noteworthy items were several ancient scrolls on tanned hides that covered several topics, including a treatise on the appearance and identification of the unliving, another concerning battling experienced arcanists, and finally a fragment detailing the meeting of the King of Andorras and Kepeskerioz . . . a scroll that mentions the meeting of the man who became the King Immortal and the elder white dragon!
We divided up the treasure, agreeing to sell most of the art, jewelry, and gems while keeping those that would be useful, such as several diamonds we will keep for the unfortunate possibility of death among my comrades. That evening we attended a celebration in our name. The men tried the local drink, cloud's tongue, while I refrained from trying the potent drink myself. We were served an entire roasted goat and many other fine foods and regaled as great heroes before the night ended. I am not one for celebrations and quietly departed to rest and commune with Death long before the ceremony ended, but I admit that I regretted passing up on the festivities. Perhaps it is best that I avoided part of the ceremony; a few sips of the potent mead might have loosened my tongue and revealed other thoughts I'd rather leave buried. Such as the fact that we had returned to the giants and would be leaving the Diamond Kingdoms on the same day eleven years past that I became the Gatherer of Souls . . . .
Kieren found himself remembering little of the night, when we rose the next morning, other than the color blue.
We returned south to Ardenhold with Ektor over the course of the following three days, avoiding most potential foes by simply flying past. A good thing, too, for trolls and stone giants were visible in plenty below us. We gave Ektor a dragon tooth and a ceremonial reliquary looted from Xarzith'darr's lair in thanks for his help and soon began to sell what we could in the massive underground city's markets. From here we will seek out the city of Three Points, a border city within the Firas Empire, located not far from the boundary with Haven. Axel and Jour have been here in the past, though I sense that their previous visit did not end as well as our time with the cloud giants. There is a large mage's academy there that we hope to spend time within in order to improve our armaments and to perhaps gather assistance in locating the King Immortal's phylactery more precisely. We will depart through the teleportation circle tomorrow and then we shall see if we can begin to draw this quest to a close. While we have been in the north our foes have been active here in the south, however, so we must be on our guard. The King Immortal may know our whereabouts, and that is a foe that we are not truly ready for . . . yet.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Translations of scripts collected from Xarzith’darr’s Hoard, as recorded by Kieren Thornblade and Morag, the Gatherer of Souls:
***********************
(From Aldfiraslander) Heed ye, Warrior of the Cleansing Hands, for note that those tainted with the energies of undeath may look too similar to the untrained eye. What appears to be a simple animated skeleton may actually be a warrior or sorcerer of great power. Check for remaining or dried skin, as these may be the marks of...
**********************
(From old Andorri) . . . risked demotion in asking my liege why we traveled over the mountains on foot rather than fly, or teleport, but His Majesty merely smiled and kept walking, inured to the cold by magic or mere stubbornness, I did not know. Then I recall why he is King of all Andor... so many Andorri are gifted with at least some touch of magic in the blood, but His Majesty remembers to keep his body as sound as his mind and soul. He is the strongest of all of us, in all ways, let alone magic. I mention my admiration to him of this. His Majesty replied, “I have seen too recently, by my people’s suffering at the hands of the Empire, just how weak the flesh can be. We can make it stronger, we must endure... but we shall also take the gifts bestowed upon the Andorri and make it stronger still...” His eyes shine with a hardness that has crept into them ever since the Empire first made its attack upon our people—no, ever since the Empire first crushed our Neen neighbors to the south. He looks at me, and I feel afraid, but remind myself how lucky I am to be at his right hand. “That is why we prove our endurance on this journey. That is why we notice every rock, every crack that we pass on our way to meet the great Dragon Lord, to learn every secret the Cloudreaches possess. Do you not know, that many things of the ancients have been buried within these mountains? They say, by Tria herself. And Lord Kepeskrioz is master of this territory, and has unearthed its most terrible and wonderful wisdom. His knowledge may be my- may be our Kingdom’s salvation, and I will show him I am worthy, and I that I am much as a master of his territory as he.
“And the strength he has gained will become my own, to unlock the secret to my ultimate victory against the Empire. Through me, the Kingdom shall never die.”
**********************
(from a Free Coast dialect) ...naught but a single spell, inscribed upon me—a spell of anti-spelling—and thus I released it and it thankfully worked as I had hoped. The mad wizard fell to the ground and was soon within my grasp, his feeble neck snapping beneath my hands with nary an effort...
*********************
(From Dwarvish) Remember, that energies from the Plane of Life and the Plane of Death cancel each other out....
**********************
(From Xarzith’darr’s own scrawlings) The place of broken magic—if I could use that in my plan somehow, or harness its power! Can the power of nothing be harnessed?
It is not far from Itmisk’alti’s ancient lair. Some of her line still live not far, cowering in fear of my magnificence. They might make my research difficult. A shame, as they might have knowledge useful to me. I doubt the Line of Itmisk’alti would accept offer of a truce from the one who so gleefully and righteously devoured their siblings and mothers. I was not planning ahead. Of course, they are likely weak and ignorant anyway. No matter.
By the way, name of the bow is Skruumorden
By the way, name of the bow is Skruumorden
Thanks! Now noted in my list of Dramatis Personae for future reference.
Session Journal Six: May 30, 2009
Scrithengard Date: Third Journsday of Varloom—
Three Points proved to be a city of opportunity for us. The teleportation circle for this city brings travelers into Three Points near the local garrison. Upon arrival we sought out a place to rest between the various tasks we had set ourselves. That place turned out to be Mrs. Green's Guest House, located near the guilders’ quarter of the city. We departed for the tent city of the Rovers outside the city walls after securing rooms.
The greatest surprise of the entire stay in Three Points awaited us as we found that the Rover clan that had come to rest outside the city was the Newhon clan, Axel's own kindred. Axel told us how his people had encouraged him to go out and adventure in the world, likening this to running a young child about until the child is ready to rest. Our arrival, or more specifically Axel's arrival was noted by the Rovers. I have never spent time with the Rovers, so this was the beginning of my education. We sought out Axel's Aunt Hyacinth, the eldest woman of the clan and matriarch of the group. To my surprise, Axel was very respectful towards his Aunt, offering the mirror that we had obtained as part of Xarzith'darr's horde to her as a token of respect before inquiring as to the current whereabouts of his Uncle Rod. Hyacinth invited us to dinner that evening before seeing us on our way.
Uncle Rod's wagon was well-armored and a young "cousin"—a term for any given member of the clan—stood watch outside. This young halfling was named Marcus. Marcus was a bit unsure of himself and proved unfortunately ineffective in deterring Axel as we inquired about his uncle's location. Rod appeared and soon Axel began bargaining away some of the horde we had gathered, earning hard coin for our victory. Rod also directed us to several other merchants that could help us with the exchange of our loot for coinage. We also met Axel's mother and spoke briefly with her. The most curious point of the day for me was the question she asked of me when we were introduced, where she asked Axel "Who is this Isenorian lady?" I had no idea where I was from, but this well-traveled halfling had quickly deduced my nationality, or so it seemed. I made a note to myself to speak with her more during dinner or afterward on this particular point.
Business was concluded and enough time remained for us to meet Thereol in the city. Thereol is an art collector that Jour and Axel had met on their previous visit to Three Points. The man was small enough that I wonder if he possessed halfling blood himself. He certainly proved to be as loquacious as the friendliest halflings I've met, rattling on about this topic or that even as he haggled with Axel over the value of the various artistic pieces we had for sale. Thereol was one of several people that indicated that the local Artificer's Guild was best avoided due to their stinginess.
Dinner was several courses cooked by Axel's close kin. The main course was a thick goat stew, but several chickens were also killed for the different courses. It was a busy, loud, and friendly affair. I ate a few bites to be polite and the stew was quite tasty, though I had no appetite for food. After the meal, Axel regaled the group with the tale of the claiming of Merrywell. Each of us was asked to tell a story as well. Jour spoke of his life far to the south. Despite the slight mistrust the Rovers have for the people of the Firas Empire—after all, the Empire is responsible for the Rovers’ existence as a wandering people—Jour won them over with his tale of courage and valor, as well as his obvious modest bearing. Kieren told the story of his own arrival on our world, eliciting a few laughs for his efforts. In turn, I told an embellished tale of how I came to be the Gatherer of Souls. Sefana may have graced me with unusual eloquence, for there were tears shed as I spoke of the loneliness and the longing that is my lot in life now. It is a tale that I grow tired of telling, sometimes.
We busied ourselves with various chores about the Rover camp after dinner, including Kieren's use of magic to entertain the children with illusions and pyrotechnics and our combined efforts to help clean up after the small celebration had finished. Kieren managed to get himself suitably inebriated and eventually found a quiet spot to sleep off his liquor. Jour walked the camp perimeter once before finding his own rest, though he seemed to be looking for someone. For my own part, I found Axel's mother again and spoke to her. I asked her about her earlier statement and she explained that she had concluded I was Isenorian based upon my appearance and facial features. We spoke a bit longer and I did my best to reassure her that I meant her son no harm. She also told me of a family in San Elspet that the Rovers had done business with on their journeys. Rovers value family and the woman was no fool--she knew that my dinnertime story referred to myself. This family in Isenor could very well know me from my past life, a thought that fills me with a mixture of dread and curiosity. I also learned that the Rovers had heard of me in stories told in Neen territory along the Sheenoseki border. Apparently I have become something of a childhood nightmare, a threat parents make to their children to enforce their behavior. All in all, I had much to think about before retiring for a few hours of rest and my nightly meditation.
Session Six Journal continued:
The following day was more eventful. Axel had spoken with the resident priest of Lees during the evening and come up with a contingency plan for dealing with the Ebon Serpent. The leader of this group, from which the group derives its name, is a mind flayer, or illithid in more academic circles. This creature desires to control the King Immortal by enacting a ritual to pull the lich's soul into its own body and then control the ruler of Sheenosek. Axel and Jour have faced this creature previously, engaging it in combat after it had fought a battle against the King Immortal. Axel's plan was to learn the secret of the creature's destruction yet have no true cognizance of this and keep it within his mind as a bluff against this creature. The audacity and cunning of this plan is amazing, but the Ebon Serpent is a foe powerful enough to face the lich in single combat; I doubt the illithid would be easily fooled or tricked. To add to the night's revelations, Axel also tried to improve his ability to move through the shadows by learning to walk into the shadows and not walk immediately back into the world. He succeeded, but he remained in the shadows but briefly--a pack of shadow mastiffs were present at his point of arrival and he reflexively jumped back into our world. Axel's courage is great, but this may not have been the best plan he has ever attempted.
The morning's work began with a trip to visit the dwarven smith and merchant Evik, an acquaintance of Jour and Axel from their previous trip to this region. Evik is a master smith at the Foundry over the Zweidor border. We purchased supplies and sold off a few more items before departing for the mage's academy within the city. Along the way Kieren stopped a young diviner by the name of Sigurd and gained the man's help in finding suitable buyers for our remaining magical treasures. Sigurd introduced us to Mary, the secretary for the Academy's administrator. She bought some of our wares herself and directed us to Professor Freya, a wizardess specializing in conjuration magics.
Freya was teaching a class when we found her. Her lectures are a bit verbose for my taste, but Freya is an obvious master of her field. The lecture she gave on the nature of Faustian bargains was very thorough about the entire affair, including the pitfalls of dealing with baatezu. We spoke with her after she completed her lecture and she purchased the last of the treasures we had won. Kieren showed her the ring we had kept—a valuable piece from Sigil. In addition to its value as a rarity, Freya noted that the ring may be a portal key to a gate leading from Sigil to Scrithengard and possibly the reverse. Given that the ring was found in the far northern mountains, the traveler that previously wore that ring most likely arrived through the portal we have heard mentioned in rumors in the mountains. To my surprise, Kieren also showed her the Ruby Gate and explained that the gate was no longer functional. Freya in turn explained that the gate was actually not broken but rather drained of power. In order to recharge the Gate, Kieren might need to expose the artifact to the wild magics of the Wanderer's Stand, though any nexus of such strong magics might serve as well. This idea did not sit well with him, as Freya estimated six months would be required for the Gate to recharge properly. The entire conversation was enlightening if a bit depressing for Kieren, as he now has options he lacked previously yet finds that the means to return to his homeworld is not readily fixed.
We kept a few pieces of magic for ourselves and a few portions of Xarzith'darr's corpse for our own use—I kept a small bone for future use as a divination focus and a tooth that I wish to use as the blade of a dagger. The Academy supplied us with the raw materials and facilities we needed to complete the various arcane projects that Kieren and I desired to finish. Jour received a belt that increases his strength, while Axel's armor enchantments were increased slightly in efficacy. Kieren received his goggles of night and a headband of intellect to increase his ability to function in dark places and to increase the power of his magic. I finally tailored the robes of shadows left behind by a now-deceased mage in the dragon's lair.
The final event of the day was the arrival of a messenger at our current quarters in Mrs. Green's Guest House. The man arrived and died before we realized what was happening. Jour tried to heal the man with his own divine power, but the man was dead already. Kieren took to watching the street with an arrow on the string of his bow while I ascertained from the corpse that he had died of poison. Axel picked up the fallen message and staggered for a moment as he made contact with it. I took the scroll from him and read it aloud, my brow furrowing:
Thank you for eliminating one of our more troublesome potential adversaries. His father will surely show his gratitude by granting you a swift and merciful death, should you survive to face our legion.
Soon the power of Sheenosek will be ours, and then every Mevvergarder our slave.
Below these words stood the symbol of the Ebon Serpent. Kieren stored the scroll in a case that he carefully sealed for future examination. I know that the poison used is very expensive and very potent; Axel was lucky to escape its effects. If this scroll is true, we killed a foe of the Ebon Serpent when we fought Xarzith'darr. The dragon's sire still exists and apparently is allied with the Ebon Serpent. Axel showed great concern when discussing plans to face the illithid, but an unliving Kepeskrioz could easily overmaster us in power.
Tomorrow, we will depart for Skuld to find the King Immortal's phylactery. We know from Jade's previous work that it lies near the city of Gorscow and the small town of Scarbrow. Where in this region it lies, we do not know. As we prepare to head deeper into the Firas Empire, I find that my thoughts consistently return to a great irony of our situation, an irony interwoven into our very fates. Axel, coming to Three Rivers, returned unexpectedly to his childhood home. Kieren found that the path home for him is longer and more perilous than he expected, if he can truly return home at all. And I have learned where I might have been born, and thus found the doorstep to a homeland I lost in Sheenosek years ago.
Campaign Notes
(for players and viewers alike)
Three Points lies where the Gildflow, Telsey, and Stonefall rivers meet, and also where the Empire border touches the border of Vargild (the gnomes' nation) and Zweidor (the Dwarves' nation). An Empire town, it is predominantly human, but being a border city it is less xenophobic than many other Empire regions. Beyond generally being a popular "crossroads/crossriver city" for trade, it is also home to the Grand Arcane Academy, a major training ground for Empire mages. The centerpiece of the Academy is the Tower of Aurit, a massive spire containing a temple to the God of Learning, Healing, History, and Magecraft, as well as numerous classrooms, libraries, and reading rooms. The upper floors contain the Academy's administrative offices, accessible only by taking a series of Floating Discs up to the upper levels in the right order.
The Caravan Camp lies across the Telsey River but within Empire territory; it's a common stopping point for Rover clans (humans and halflings ousted from their homeland by the Empire centuries ago and nomadic ever since) and other traveling bands of merchants, mercenaries, and performers.
The party's next destination is Skuld, an Empire province northeast of the one they are in now (Geltier, of which Three Points is the capital). Skuld is nestled in the highlands, and the capital city Gorscow is a good week or two away on foot or by traveling genteelly with horses.
Things the Party Needs to Do
1. Finish creating magic items: It will take approximately 25 days to create all the items the party's spellcasters wish to make. In the meantime the Paladin and the Shadowdancer have their time to themselves, unless they have means to assist with the crafting.
2. Determine their method of travel to Gorscow: While the party finishes crafting their items, the Ebon Serpent will not rest. Hence, it is a good idea to make up for lost time by finding the fastest means possible to get to Gorscow and beyond. There is no Teleportation Circle available.
Traveling by magical means has a complication: the Empire has, over the past few centuries, put up a series of wards all over their territory, to protect their land from magical trespass (the last thing they need is Sheenosek or Haven teleporting in troops straight into the capitol). There are a mess of proximity alarms, teleportation counterspells, and the like that make unauthorized magical travel difficult. If someone is flying by magical means or, say, using the Wind Walk spell and they travel across one of the detection triggers, they will suddenly find themselves surrounded by the Empire Magic Corps Border Guard.
It is possible to get a permit for magical travel, especially for limited use, but it involves applying for it and paying the fee, and Empire bureaucracy tends to have the complications Vargild bureaucracy does without any of the fun puzzle solving aspects. (Fortunately, Empire bureaucracy is not as widespread as Vargild bureaucracy.)
There are authorized transport providers, from boatmasters with speed-enhancements on their boats to rentable Phantom Steeds.
If the party wants to Wind Walk, they should bear in mind that it's fall, and they're going from wet lowlands up into highland territory... meaning fog is a legitimate danger. Nothing like thinking you're walking next to your friend only to realize it's an interesting patch of condensation. It won't be foggy the whole way, but it's something to bear in mind.
Here are some of the party's travel choices, for them to think about (GM'S NOTE: the reason I am putting this up NOW is so it can be discussed and decided before the next session starts. :) )
1) Get a permit and Wind Walk through the Empire. This IS something Jour and Axel could look into while Morag and Kieren are crafting. Jour and Axel both know Jour should do most of the talking in this case, golden Firaslander boy that he is (though of course we know that won't stop Axel).
2) Go the long way, up the road on foot/ahorse. Boring and slow, but few will mess with you besides anyone tempted to attack travelers.
3) Hire a boat and sail up the Telsey. You won't land IN Gorscow, but paying a fee to a riverman who has a magically enhanced boat will still save you a lot of time on your trip, and the trip from the riverdock to Gorscow will be relatively short, even on foot.
4) Wind Walk (or similar means) without a permit through the Empire and hope you don't get caught or be prepared to deal with the Magic Corps.
5) Cross over the Zweidor border, WindWalk toward Skuld through there, and then take a 2 days' walk from the border to Gorscow. Most Zweidorians live underground, so they don't care what means people use to travel over the surface. Of course, there are the massive hordes of giants that live on the surface, but one would hope one wouldn't have to deal with them.
Session Journal Seven: June 27, 2009
Scrithengard Date: Third Journsday of Leesloom-Fourth Triasday of Leesloom
The enchantment of mundane items to hold magical power took longer than four weeks, but it is done. To Jour I gave a belt to enhance his physical strength (belt of giant strength +4). Kieren received a circlet to increase his intellect and a set of goggles to improve his already keen vision (headband of intellect +2, goggles of night). Axel gave to Kieren his robe of blending, and when it was returned to him the shadowdancer found that it now fortified his body and mind against harm (gained +2 resistance). I found time to alter the robes of shadows for myself. We also finally divided the wealth of our various battles amongst ourselves, each receiving more than 5,000 gold coins of the realm. At least these “mundane” tasks are done.
I write this now, weeks later, but the time spent in Three Points did not remain calm and tranquil. The messenger that died delivering the Ebon Serpent's taunts was a man name Franz, a member of the Courier's Guild. We quickly hid the body in an extradimensional space after I preserved the man with a quick incantation. Standing in an alley, we discussed our options and finally decided to bring the man to his guild and seek answers there. If nothing else, we hoped to learn a bit more about the guild's operations and to place ourselves above suspicion.
A brief encounter with a minor functionary soon ended with the Assistant Guildmaster's intervention. We explained our situation carefully and Jour convinced the man to examine the guild's records for us. We hoped to discern who had been the man's last employer, but the records revealed nothing. Nonetheless, we gave Franz back to his guild along with the original message and strong warnings to avoid contact with the original scroll due to the potent toxin upon it. Kieren retained a copy of the message for our own records. The Assistant Guildmaster also called for the morticians and the local constabulary to report the crime.
The officer of the watch that came to speak with us was Lieutenant Theresa, a woman dedicated to keeping the peace in her city. She was also an acquaintance of Jour and Axel from a prior visit to the city. We explained our situation to her and returned to the local outpost of the watch to answer questions for her and the inspectors. This was as monotonous as I had feared it to be, but no investigation can be solved without questions I suppose. We did our best to cooperate with the watch and warned them that the Ebon Serpent was involved. Theresa was aware of this group and their work in Haven's Hold and was worried about their presence in Three Points. She also pointed out that we were most likely tracked to our current residence through official channels. Axel's guess is that our arrival by use of the city's teleportation circle was the means the Ebon Serpent used to find us. Given that at least one of their members is an aberration capable of reading minds, the problem of hiding our movements has become worrisome.
While Kieren and I worked in the labs of the University, Axel arranged a meeting with “Golly” O'Rourke, a member of another Rover clan that sails the Telsey River from Zweidor down into Three Points and possibly down into Haven. We gathered for an extravagant meal in order to negotiate a contract for Golly—a nickname, I think—to bring us north along the Telsey. Luckily, O'Rourke proved to be cunning, garrulous, and open to discussion. One of our remaining sapphires was of sufficient worth to serve as payment for our trip. Axel also arranged travel permits for points east and south in an effort to confuse pursuers.
Finally we departed a full month after our arrival. We made a short trip to the Vargild border and then boarded Golly's vessel. Golly had but one mate aboard, a quiet sailor name Sally. We received documents for our alternate identities upon boarding and then claimed space in the cargo hold. O'Rourke's vessel is magically powered as well as warded against detection magics, so we soon began moving quickly upstream, cutting through the water with alacrity. The cargo hold that became our quarters was cleverly concealed belowdecks and warded against detection. It was a strange sensation to be on a ship that did not sail by wind alone, but it brought back pleasant memories of my time aboard the Seawind. Poor Kieren; despite my best efforts, I could not alleviate his motion sickness and he would not move about on deck in an effort to earn his sea legs, so he remained belowdecks for the trip.
I am concerned over one revelation that has transpired during the trip north. Axel told us of a series of dreams he's been having during our first night ashore. In the first part, Axel sees himself battling the King Immortal. As the battle progresses, the King falters and Axel slowly transforms into an unliving creature himself and revels in this power even as he defeats the lich. In the second dream, Axel finds himself dissipating into the shadows. Skruumorden has demonstrated a strong battle-lust in the first dream, but I do not recall Axel mentioning what the bow felt, if anything, in the second. Given my suspicions about the artifact, I am now worried about its influence over Axel. I doubt that Axel will be transformed into an undead creature, but if my suspicions are correct then I must admit to being in a quandary. Do we risk the soul of one of our own to complete our mission?
The small river barge took us far along the Zweidor side of the border in the space of a single day and to our destination in three days. That destination was a small town named jokingly by Axel—or was it Kieren?--'Smuggletown'. Golly knew of it because of his profession as a sailor, and the town did seem to have an unsavory air that might be associated in stories with such organized crime. In truth, I would not be surprised to find that our Rover captain did a certain amount of illicit business that the authorities of the Empire know nothing about, business involving movement of goods across borders and from place to place. If that is how he makes a living for himself and his family, so be it; it is not for me to meddle in the laws of the Empire or in the business of Rovers. Sally gifted us with salted fish before we departed, a most unexpected event. We took stock of ourselves and soon departed for Gorscow via the overland pass.
Session Seven Journal continued
Our enemies found us quickly. We found ourselves assaulted along the road by a large insect-like creature native to Baator and two humanoid companions. The insectoid creature, armored with a carapace of ice that was tougher than any steel and armed with a large spear, was the leader of the trio. The two spike-covered companions bore sets of manacles—for us, no doubt. Battle was joined quickly. The aura of raw power they emitted overwhelmed Axel's mind and sent him fleeing from the battlefield in magically-induced terror before I could stop him. The larger fiend covered his warriors and himself in an unholy aura of dark power. I tried to dispel his magic but failed against him and one of his warriors, but the other found his newfound strength fleeing as quickly as it had been gained. Jour called on divine power of his own to imbue his axe with holy might as Kieren began firing at the barbed warriors. Hand-to-hand combat saw the quick demise of the unprotected warrior, but the insectoid began to use magic to hide behind a wall of ice and then to gain the power of flight. The second warrior's defenses proved tough to crack, though fortunately his skill in combat was insufficient to take advantage of our surprise in any efficient manner. Jour whittled the warrior down as I interspersed healing magic, death magic, and protective magic of my own, matching the fiends' unholy aura with a holy aura of my own. Kieren bestowed the power of flight on Jour so that the paladin could fly over the ice wall and bring battle to the last foe. Luckily, my own spells protected us from some of his magics as an ice storm failed to harm us, though a blast of freezing ice-laden wind caught Kieren and Jour. Jour's flight took him up and over the wall and into blade-to-spear combat with his opponent. Kieren joined him via translocation magic and together they began to whittle the monster down. I blasted the wall to steam with the raw power of a firestorm and continued to assist Jour and Kieren as I could. Kieren had drawn his blade and valiantly tried to strike the creature, but its physical defenses proved even greater than those of Xarzith'darr. In turn, the fiend found few of its own strikes landing. One of those few blows it landed resulted in a flash of holy light that blinded the creature even as its own unholy power drew the strength from Jour's body. But finally Jour laid it low with a perfectly-placed strike that slammed home in its chest, banishing it back to the hells from which it came. Axel finally rejoined us, having overcome the aura of fear, only to find the battle concluded.
The fact that our route was guarded by formidable fiends from Baator does not worry me in an of itself. We are known foes to the Ebon Serpent, the paths to our destination limited to a select few roads and rivers, so the presence of guardians against our coming does not disturb me. What is more problematic is that the Empire has no defense that prevented the summoning of devils onto their land. Given their ancient wars against Andorras and later Sheenosek, some sort of protection against fiends would make sense. I lack knowledge of the wards over the nation, so perhaps such magics are in place and the Ebon Serpent worked their magics within the limits of the spells. That would make sense; the fiends were set as guardians, and other mages within the Empire might employ such services themselves. If I return to the Academy I might investigate this further. What is also somewhat alarming is that the enemy has at least one Chosen or mage of sufficient power to bring such creatures to Scrithengard and entice or coerce them into service. If it was done through coercion, that would worry me less, for the mage in question will most likely have earned an enemy among the fiends. Fiends are often arrogant and they possess the patience of beings born not to die, so they can be patient when attempting to seek vengeance on their persecutors. If this is the work of a Chosen, then I shudder to think of the debt that Chosen might have incurred to gain the services of powerful devils. While I am powerful enough to use such magics myself, I have always been reluctant to owe a debt to creatures native to the planes beyond Scrithengard. I already owe my deity for my life, a geas that I chose readily but one that will weigh on my as the days of my existence wear on. I have undertaken a request for the Speaker of Tria as well, one profound in meaning. While I would not ever choose to call upon darker powers such as these fiends, I do not care to owe a debt to even the kinder, gentler beings of the outer planes. If I can manage on my own, I will do so, with the aid of my companions on this trip. No, not companions; friends.
After healing magic had brought everyone to their peak health, we found several items left behind by our conjured opponents. The two warriors had left cold iron manacles in their wake, likely for us if we yielded in battle, though I thought one had resentfully cursed the larger fiend and commented about chasing down succubi when it fell. I admit that the politics of the lower planes are too intricate for me to comprehend in their entirety. The large fiend left behind a reliquary that we cleaned up and opened, revealing a carving of a beautiful woman rising from the water. This item was quite old and originally consecrated to Vesi, fallen goddess of the oceans. I know that for its antique value alone it is quite valuable, but I must admit to a certain reluctance to parting with the item. At the least, I would like to examine it more carefully before letting it go due its historical significance. I also admit that I wonder what I would learn from it if I tried to legend lore the item, for the fates of the four fallen gods are interwoven into my own.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Session Seven Interlude
A Request Honored
Mother Newhon is a treasure trove of information, truly. I admit that I owe her much already just for her keen insights into my own background. Her suggestion that I seek out Naomi was exactly what I needed to fulfill one more debt, if not more, that I owe the good people of Scrithengard.
Naomi is an initiate of Aurit the Seeker. She is not a Chosen, not even one of the Touched, but still possesses formidable knowledge in the arenas of herbalism and the healing arts. She apparently stays at the site of the campgrounds and seldom departs. Naomi is also no Rover, but I did not feel it necessary to inquire as to her origins when we met or after. She in turn did me the same courtesy, though she was interested in knowing why I came to her. I hope she had not heard the stories the Rovers now tell of me and taken them to heart! We sat down together and discussed why I had come to the Rover campgrounds one evening not long after my companions and I began preparing for the trip north. Naomi heard the tale of my conversation with the Speaker of Tria of the Diamond Kingdoms and agreed to help me in my quest, though 'quest' is a bit too strong a word I think.
For several nights we walked the camp, visiting with various Rovers, checking injuries and in Naomi's case just being social. The Rovers of the Newhon clan recognized me, of course, but the other clans that came to the campgrounds now saw me for the first time. Rovers are always polite and friendly, I have learned. The nature of that civility differs, however, based upon one's status. Rovers are merchants and no merchant wishes to lose a sale to something so simple as brusque behavior or rudeness, so they present a polite face to all that come to them just for that reason alone. This was the courtesy extended to me during these nights. I wasn't offended by this; a degree of caution is necessary in their lives. Naomi quizzed me all this time on matters of healing. I am quite skilled in mundane techniques of treating physical wounds, though I have let my studies lag over the past few months as other skills have required attention, so I do not think she was displeased at my answers. For me, this was an opportunity to learn and relearn what I had once known.
Perhaps a week later those skills were put to the test. The O'Hanrahan Rover clan had arrived in Three Points some time ago. Polly O'Hanrahan went into labor one evening and the Rovers immediately sent for Naomi. I came with her as well to assist as a midwife. I had not practiced as a midwife in nine years, since I lived on the western frontier of Haven, but the skills had not faded. Polly's labor went on a very long time and her child was born breach, but together Naomi and I brought a beautiful little halfling boy into the world. Polly came through labor exhausted as mothers do but proud. She surprised me with a few whispered words as we began to clean up the birthing room, however.
“Name the child,” Polly said simply.
Those may not have been her exact words, but I was tired in my own right and so my memories are blurry on this matter.
I turned to the mother. “Is this a normal custom among your people?”
Polly nodded faintly. Naomi's nod was a bit stronger, but she was as tired as well.
“I am unfamiliar with your naming traditions, but I think we can welcome Terrence O'Hanrahan to Scrithengard,” I told the halfling woman simply. It was the best I could think of at that time, a strong name for the child of a strong mother and a hearty people.
“A strong name, that,” Polly whispered.
The Chosen of Tria passed by at that time, a halfling woman that I had scarcely seen, and delivered a quick blessing before moving about her tasks. Naomi and I gave a longer, more thorough blessing soon after. We took care of the cleaning and let Polly nurse Terrence before departing for Naomi's home. I took up Naomi's offer for willowbark tea for my aching head and we sat together companionably for a time before seeking out our separate beds. Kieren was none too happy the next day when I arrived to the lab with bloodshot eyes and as irritable as a sober dwarf, but seeing Terrence born was worth it.
I also did not tell Kieren or Naomi that I had stayed awake for a time before succumbing at last to my exhaustion, crying. The tears were a blessing and a curse. A blessing, the wonder of bringing a life into the world, a wonder that I had not seen in far too long. A curse, as I had told the Speaker, for I was reminded of what I had lost by my choices.
The next evening I stopped at the market before returning to visit Polly and her son. The merchants were surprised to see me, I think, though they took pains not to show it. I bought a basket while I was there and proceeded to find several different herbs Naomi had shown me for relief of pain and to freshen the air. A selection of fruit soon followed. If the others had seen me I think they would have been shocked; I walked through the market, a basket of flowers and fruit on one arm, the apple I had taken for my own consumption in my hand, chatting with one merchant after another, all the while dressed in my black dress. Yet to me it seemed only natural at the time. Perhaps a part of my old life?
I delivered my gifts to mother and son and checked to make sure both were still healthy. Polly will need time to recover, of course, but Terrence was as energetic as any newborn. As I departed to wander the campgrounds with Naomi I saw a halfling man with a pronounced limp approach Polly's dwelling with a basket of his own. Later I learned that this was the father of Polly's child. One of his gifts was a set of tiny boots, apparently a traditional gift to a newborn among the Rovers. And a strange one, when one realizes that halflings often go unshod, but Varan is their patron and in that light I suppose the gift is a blessing from the god.
Visiting with the Rovers became part of my routine for the duration of our stay in Three Points. I spent several evenings listening to the tales (some quite tall) of the Rover men and heard at least one interesting—and frightening—tale. One of the Dugan men supposedly ran across a small cult of Berea in his youth that was trying to resurrect Hekhu! The Dugan clan was absent and will not return until spring, but I might come back and find the source of this wild story. Berea's followers are no more sane than she is, while Rovers will embellish a tale without a thought, but if there is any truth to this story I must know. This supposedly happened 30 years ago, which I find to be intriguing. I myself am of that age, by my best guess . . . .
The Rovers show another side of themselves to those they consider friends, a side I was privileged enough to see before my friends and I departed for Gorscow. I told some of the men of the potential profits of trade with the cloud giants and mentioned a few bits of our own tale. My cautious nature rebels at the thought of giving away such information, but as our enemies know who we are and where to find us, I think that there is no harm in telling such stories. The Rovers tell stories of me as it is, what is one more? Now I am seen as more than just another customer, which I welcome.
I do not care for being addressed as 'that crazy bat', however, or any derivations thereof. The Rovers now enjoy using those words as a greeting. I suppose I can live with it; the kobolds called me something that translates from Draconic as 'useful soup', after all.
Session Eight: August 22, 2009
Scrithengard Time: Fourth Triasday of Leesloom-Fourth Marketday of Leesloom
After our encounter with the baatezu, my companions and I finally made our way into Gorscow, the capital city of the province of Skuld. Tired from our travels and the battle with the fiends, we promptly found ourselves quarters in the Deer's Perch, one of several travelers' lodges within the city. I had used quite a bit of my own magic during the day and was tired, I admit, so I asked Axel to gather some incense for me while the men wandered about the city. With that request made, I retired for a brief nap.
When I awoke, I inquired as to the location of the others. After they had availed themselves of the hot springs that the lodge was built around, they had left to run the errand I had asked of them. I in turn enjoyed the opportunity for a hot bath and soak. By the time I was done, Axel, Jour, and Kieren had returned with the incense I had requested—an entire bucket of myrrh. They also brought to me an unexpected tale.
While walking about the market, the men ran into an old acquaintance of Axel's, a potter by the name of Nathaan Do'sheen. Nathaan had last been seen with an entourage in Merrywell, but now he traveled alone with a bodyguard. The bodyguard, Meekeh, is a warrior by his build though without weapons, so I surmise his training to have been conducted at a monastery. Given that these two men come from Sheenosek, I doubt Meekeh trained extensively at a Gyomorite monastery, however.
Nathaan wished to combine our resources in an effort to destroy the Ebon Serpent and offered payment as a potential incentive. Axel and Kieren were of course interested, and Jour seemed to think the offer worth consideration. The men told our potential ally that they needed to confer with the rest of their group and would meet up for breakfast to finalize any agreements.
Hearing all of this, I was wary but I agreed to meet with this potential ally as well. Despite the revelation that the man was under orders from the King Immortal himself, I could not in good conscience turn down the offer of assistance from Nathaan and Meekeh. I did consider the fact that no one mentioned our primary goal of destroying the ruler of Sheenosek as an important consideration on our part. That night I mulled this over after I took the time to indulge my curiosity about the ancient reliquary we'd found and cast a legend lore upon. The reliquary was a useful diversion for my growing unease that evening.
The next morning we joined our erstwhile allies after I created our breakfast and we had eaten a hearty meal. My more cynical thoughts led me to the conclusion that if these Sheenoseki tried to poison us, we were at least all now protected by the heroes' feast I had created. I let the others lead the way into the inn where we found Nathaan and Meekeh staring at a map while idly munching on fruit. What I saw as I approached stopped me cold.
Nathaan was Durran, my murderer.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Session Eight Journal continued
Nathaan was bald, while my personal demon's hair was so dark as to be black. Nathaan also held himself differently, his bearing haughty in a wholly different way than the Skadenite's. I saw no unholy sigils to proclaim Nathaan a servant of Skaden, only the common accoutrements of a mage such as belt pouches, a staff of yew, and a raven on his shoulder. But the man's face and voice were the same face and voice that have haunted my nightmares for years.
Kieren was the first to notice my reaction, Jour and Axel catching on quickly before our hosts noticed our arrival.
“Is there a problem?” Kieren asked. “You seem to be a bit paler than your normal self.”
It took me several seconds to calm my frantically-scrambling thoughts and compose a reply.
“He looks like a man I know,” I said softly.
“What man is that?” Kieren asked, his concern still evident.
“The man that killed me,” I replied.
That revelation brought several more moments of silence.
“Is this going to be a problem? If so, we can walk away from this right now,” Jour offered.
“No, let me speak to him. I don't know for sure,” I answered, my gaze never swerving from the Sheenoseki.
The men exchanged glances that might have been amusing or even endearing in other circumstances. They formed up around me as we approached the table. Nathaan and his guard noticed our presence and the mage smiled in welcome. I managed to refrain from shivering, but only just. Nathaan welcomed each of us in turn before turning to me and extending a hand in exquisite courtesy.
“And who might this lovely lady be?” Nathaan asked.
I faintly heard Kieren muttering that “lovely” was a word he'd never heard used about me before. I only heard that comment because the others had all fallen silent, awaiting my response. I cursed in my own thoughts, for the man's voice was even the same though his tone and inflections were different. With reluctance, I concluded the if this was Durran then the man had completely changed his mannerisms. He'd also shown no signs of recognition when he greeted me, though to be fair that could have been nothing more than forgetfulness bestowed by time, as we hadn't crossed paths in eleven or more years.
I took his hand slowly and noticed his flesh was cool to the touch. At close range I could also see that the man had been exposed to great amounts of necromantic energy in the past, as my ability to gauge the life-force of others had problems discerning his own life energies. I pushed all of that aside for later consideration before I finally answered his question.
“Morag,” I said flatly. “The Gatherer of Souls.”
I think I can be forgiven for my poor manners.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Session Eight continued: Part 3
“What an interesting occupation,” Nathaan replied politely. In truth, I barely heard his words. I looked from him to his raven to his bodyguard as I disengaged my hand and stepped away from him. His uncanny resemblance to my worst nightmare—my only nightmare—was disturbing me immensely.
Nathaan outlined the agreement he'd made with the others, although no mention of payment was made. We'd travel together toward Scarbrow, a northern town beside a small lake. Nathaan's sources told him that the Ebon Serpent sought the Crown of Andorsek, the ancient crown of the kings of fallen Andor. The King Immortal had been crowned King of Andor before his transformation into a lich, and the Crown bonded with the souls of the kings of Andor. The Ebon Serpent sought the crown, hoping to employ this link to gain control of the King Immortal. During the wars between the Firas Empire and Andor, the Empire paid a conjurer to teleport the shrine that the Crown was normally housed in to a hidden location to prevent the king of Andor from using it. Why? For the crown was said to grant magic nigh unto the gods themselves at the cost of crippling and killing its wearers, making it an awesome weapon of last resort that the Empire had no desire to experience for themselves. Given that the King Immortal was Nathaan's employer, the lich might have means of tracing the Crown. Also given the vigilant mage-guardians that watch for teleportation magics across the Empire and the interlocking wards against all other travelers' magics, the Crown's retrieval would be difficult even for a lich of several centuries to accomplish. The conjurer was slain after hiding the crown so he could not reveal the crown's location, but it had supposedly been taken to the far north, putting all of the Empire between the Andorrian forces and the artifact.
A perusal of Nathaan's map showed that his words made sense. Scarbrow is about as far north as one can get without climbing the mountains, a small fishing village of no great consequence. Nathaan theorized that the old shrine was in the lake or possibly under it, both equally good possibilities that coincided with our own guesses.
We agreed to work together and depart as soon as we all gathered our respective gear. An hour later we met the Sheenoseki agents—I don't think the term 'spies' is too far from the mark, though 'assassins' might be better—at the northern gates. They had brought their horses, which were enchanted in some way to move quickly over the ground as the steeds seemed far more energetic than I would have guessed. Without horses of our own, we had to confer with our partners quickly. Nathaan produced a writ for permission to use a spell of overland flight that he'd been hoping to save, along with enough exemption chits for all of us. While I am knowledgeable in the ways of magic, I'd never known that this spell could be used on another person so easily. We had no option but to trust him to cast the spell on each of us, as we did not want the Ebon Serpent to have the time to find the Crown before us and the Sheenoseki were impatient to be off.
It was sunset when we reached Scarbrow. In and of itself, it was an unremarkable town of several dozen stone buildings located on the southern edge of a lake. What we quickly realized, however, is that there were no signs of life visible from a distance. With the autumn progressing quickly to winter in the far north, we should have seen smoke rising from chimneys and light from windows. We found neither as we neared Scarbrow. Above the town we quickly divided our forces in order to investigate. Kieren muttered a quick spell to render himself invisible and descended, while Axel relied on his own skills to remain unseen and made his way into town as well. The rest of us slowly descended toward a farmhouse to the southeast.
We landed behind the hedges of the farmhouse in order to attain some modicum of cover. Nathaan noticed immediately that the farmhouse was magically warded and sent his quiet companion to investigate further. Minutes later, Meekeh returned after we heard a blast from the direction of the farmhouse. Jour, Nathaan, and I learned that the house was indeed trapped; Meekeh seemed embarrassed by the fact that he triggered a trap on the front door. Nathaan dispelled some of the wards outside the house and Jour opened the door.
Session Eight, part 4
Within the farmhouse we immediately spotted one person. A woman with grey skin was visible, manacled, bound to a post, and gagged. Jour nearly charged into the room on the spot, but Meekeh informed us that there were traps everywhere. I used an orison to detect magic and confirmed this for fact, as numerous glyphs became visible to my eyes as well as other potent warding spells. Kieren and Axel returned, tracing the sound of the initial explosion. Between a dispel magic incantation of my own and Axel's skills, we began to disable the traps. One of the spells I disabled apparently prevented translocation magic, for the wounded woman soon disappeared and reappeared neatly in Jour's arms. Several other traps were sprung that included a blade set to decapitate her where she had stood, further evidence that our foes meant business. After she was freed of her bonds, Jour introduced to us his lover Alanna. Alanna was of mixed human and drow heritage, a bard and shadowdancer of skill to rival or exceed Axel's own. Jour began to heal his love while the rest of us gathered her gear—what we could find, at any rate.
While we were enjoying the sight of Jour and Alanna's happy reunion, Nathaan had been dealing with the problem that had followed our two scouts. The mage had destroyed several swarms of bats and been in turn blasted by lightning from the open sky as he confronted a group of giant bats of unusual size. With battle begun, the rest of us joined the fray.
Nathaan was soon neutralized as one of the bats transformed into an orc and threw a weapon at him. While the orc fell to the ground, Nathaan was imprisoned in a globe of force and subjected to some form of energy attack within the globe. Jour and Axel joined the fight, attacking the orc. Kieren's aim was true as he delivered one force bolt after another into the chest of the spellcaster, driving him back a step.
I considered my options carefully. Nathaan I trusted as far as I could throw him, but he had done nothing to reveal his hand. We were allies by our own agreement and he had already acted in our defense. The enemy obviously had a weapon capable of holding him, a fact that I found suspicious at the time, but I had to admit that he must have been a serious threat if had been the target of such a specialized attack. So I attempted to dispel the globe on him, but my spell lacked the power needed to free him. On a deep, dark level of my soul I admit that I was glad that I had failed, I am ashamed to admit.
Alanna began to dance, bardic magic adding speed to our limbs and strength to our hearts. She soon joined Meekeh in confronting several of the bats, splitting the enemy forces in two. The orc—a Chosen of Tria, I soon learned—warded himself with a wall of fire and then healed his wounds.
My friends and I reopened his wounds with fire and arrow. Within the span of five breaths the orc finally collapsed of his wounds, letting us turn our attention to the next bat. Axel managed to lose his rapier to the call of gravity as Jour cleaved the second bat into a bloody mist, but he soon reclaimed his blade from the ground as they tried to kill the deadliest of the three attackers. The final bat possessed bony protrusions and a hide that turned all but the strongest blows, causing Axel, Jour, and Kieren no end of frustration. I saw their conundrum and knew that I held the answer.
I closed the distance with the final bat and began to pray as soon as I flew within reach. With a final exhortation I struck the bat with my open hand, its tough hide no impediment to my spell. The creature shrieked as I split its skin open with multiple lacerations but it did not die. In turn, the creature bit me savagely, sensing that I was perhaps its greatest foe. My own wounds were serious but not mortal, so I pressed on. While the others continued to distract the monster I cast another spell, once more reaching out for the creature. This time, however, I did not reach out for its body.
I reached out and found the monster's soul.
Between one breath and the next, the bat's rage died away. The creature's wings halted in mid-beat and it had no time for more as I pulled the soul away from its body and then let it go, snuffing out the creature's life in a single breath. The bat collapsed to the ground with a crash of broken flesh and moved no more.
Session Eight, conclusion
My companions quickly gathered what they could from the druid's fallen form, all of them looking at me a bit uneasily. The globe holding Nathaan faded away minutes later, leaving him alive but wounded. Meekeh and Alanna had dealt with the other three bats, so I began healing Jour's injuries and my own. Alanna told us that she was not the only 'guest' within the house but that there were others held within the basement as well.
Several minutes later we made our way into the basement to find three humanoids unconscious and near-death. To our surprise, they were drow. One was obviously of draconic heritage, given her white scales, but all were in poor shape. I began to work on them, beginning with the half-dragon and then moving to the others. All had been poisoned and injured during the fight that had resulted in Alanna's capture. The bard soon told us that she was in the area investigating rumors of the Ebon Serpent when she ran across the drow and had begun negotiating an alliance with them when they had been ambushed and imprisoned as a trap for us. The drow were as stubborn as Kieren and as quiet as Axel, by my guess, for none of them spoke a word as I awoke each in turn. We did eventually learn that they had lost one of their number who had bolted northward during the fight. Kieren and Axel departed while I continued to tend their wounds, returning soon with the body of their fallen companion and what gear they could salvage. We know the drow all belong to House Maelthrashel, of whom Kilmaral the half-dragon seemed to be the leader, and seek to destroy Kepeskrioz. They also knew the dracolich was within the lake and that the Ebon Serpent had taken the townsfolk. Combined with our previous intelligence was their assertion that the shrine we sought was most likely beneath the lake itself and accessible by a tunnel in the area.
The farmhouse was indefensible, but our scouts had found the inn while returning from their expedition. The others left for the inn while I gave last rites to the fallen monsters and the slain drow, burning their bodies under the open sky, Axel standing by to watch for further intruders. We were undisturbed, however, and soon joined the others at the inn. With the sun soon to rise, we agreed to wait until after dark to head out once more. We all need rest, particularly Alanna and the dark elves.
Tomorrow, one way or another, we may see the end of our mission. How many of us will remain alive at day's end I cannot say. Kieren is uneasy with the drow in residence, while Jour is quite distracted by Alanna's presence Axel, as always, is unflappable. And I dread the idea of sleep tonight with the Sheenoseki present, because I know sleep will bring me no rest . . . .
Author's Note: The party has gained a level.
Morag is now a Cloistered Cleric 10/Contemplative 7. She now has SR and can cast 9th-level spells.
Discussion is underway about converting to Pathfinder when we all get our copies of the Great Book of Paizo Goodness.
Session Eight Interlude
Legend Lore
Finding a relic from the days before the Cataclysm is incredibly rare. I am surprised that the gelugon possessed such a thing. Perhaps the Ebon Serpent gave it to the fiend in exchange for its services? I do not know, and ultimately such a question is futile. I am its owner now, until such time as my companions and I give the relic to a collector or a temple of Tria. I still marvel at such a find, however.
The legend lore incantation is a long one on the best of days. Were I to cast this spell with only rumor to fuel my need, the incantation could take weeks to complete. Even with the relic there before me, I knew the spell can still require the better portion of an hour. But my curiosity is great, and the loss of one spell for one day was worth it, I believe.
I chanted the spell slowly and surely, the enchantment one I have never used and my desire to avoid wasting the components strong. When I finished the sing-song chant, I opened my mind to the relic and let it tell me a piece of its story. Some spells induce trances in their casters, a state I am familiar with. Years spent with the Gyomorite monks taught me to perform simple tasks in a light meditative state, including the scribing of tomes. I relied on that discipline to record all that the spell revealed to me. When it was done, I looked down at the pages of my journal to find that I had written these lines:
“In the glacial spread of the Blue Diamond Pass, Snorri Duergeson maintained the Shrine of Winter alone, sending sacrifices to the Goddess, fending off the great ice worms with his mighty rod, all for the love of his goddess. And for the love of his goddess, he formed the statue of the goddess lovingly, even when he scarred his hand with the chisel. It was carved ice jade, from deep beneath the glacier, and when he finished with it, it would look as fine and clear as glass but strong and unbreakable.
But the Sylvan tribes came north to find the secrets of the gods, thirsting for vengeance for the senseless violence their Elemental Servants had visited upon their Queen. A score of the children of the forest and hills stood with their bows pointed at Snorri, and all he did was smile. He sent his love of his goddess into the splendidly crafted statue, and the goddess-icon gleamed and glowed, blinding the would-be godslayers. A mighty whirlwind formed and drew every one of the attackers in, kicking and screaming into the Pure Realm of Water, and thus they were drowned by their lust for power.”
Snorri seemed to be dwarven in my faint memories, yet possibly human. The images faded away too quickly for me to properly consider the possibility that he was both, so I will assume that he was a large dwarven man for the moment. I find the attack of the Sylvan tribes—elves from what would become the Deep Green most likely—fascinating, most particularly their appellation as 'god-slayers'. Why would they be so angry as to wish to kill Vesi, the ancient goddess of water? I know that eventually all of the elemental gods did fall; did the elves play a role in their demise? While I have found at last a small piece of ancient lore, as is often the case I find that it leaves more questions than answers in its wake.
Author's Note:
The group has decided to do Pathfinder conversions AFTER this story arc. We're gaming on Saturday, hoping to finish the arc this weekend. Presuming we don't die to a dracolich, an illithid, a lich, and/or our various allies...
Session Journal Nine: October 10, 2009
Scrithengard Date: Fourth Marketday of Leesloom
In the space of but one day, my mission on Death's behalf has been completed, our enemies slain, and new questions have arisen to replace the old. Less than a day, truly, for it is early in the afternoon now as I sit here and write these words. Axel, Kieren, and Jour are organizing the townsfolk of Scarbrow.
Our day began shortly before dawn to the sound of the inn's walls beginning to collapse. I was weary despite my rest from my efforts that night but still awake, while Axel stood watch. The walls shook with several impacts as Kepeskrioz began his assault on our position. The sounds of battle also broke out across the hall from within Nathaan's room before I could react to Kepeskrioz' attacks. Kieren ran to help Nathaan, while Axel ran to warn us of the dracolich's presence. The quickest of us, Kieren and Axel met at Nathaan's door and found that several Ebon Serpent assassins—drow shadowdancers—had engaged Meekeh and Nathaan. The mage warned my compatriots to fight Kepeskrioz and to leave the assassins to him. I heard his shout and ran toward the unliving monstrosity that had already torn a portion of the roof from the building and reduced the front door and wall to rubble. Jour, Alanna, Kieren, Axel, and I raced to the main room, warding magics falling from my lips as fast as I could cast them. The halfling shadowdancer took cover behind a small table and tried to shoot Kepeskrioz with Skruumorden, landing one shot that fractured a wing bone despite the resistance of skeletal undead to piercing weapons. Kepeskrioz roared at Axel, apparently recognizing Skruumorden. Kieren's bow wounded the creature further as Jour began to ward himself from cold. Alanna passed her lover a potion to permit him to engage the skeletal creature in the air while assisting me in protecting the others. I took cover behind another table only to find the wily dragon casting a spell of his own, creating a bank of fog that was thicker than the table I'd chosen. I used another spell to remove all inhibitions to my movement and hid within the fog, watching as my more militant companions engaged the undead dragon. Kieren circumvented the fog by breaking through the wall of my room, a charmingly simple and direct tactic. Our drow allies emerged and began hurling spells at Kepeskrioz even as he picked several of them off with his claws and teeth. Axel found fighting difficult, the aura of fear that surrounded our foe even stronger than that of Xarzith'darr, so I neutralized the effect with a quick incantation. Jour rained blow after blow on the unliving creature, pieces of bones falling to the floor even as the unliving dragon tore at him with tooth and claw, while Kieren kept up a steady barrage of force arrows. My own flamestrike was thwarted by the dragon's formidable resistance to magic, as were many of Kilmaral's spells. Kepeskrioz grabbed Axel in his fangs, but Axel blasted his way free with Skruumorden and fell to the ground safely, his exit due to the ring of the ram he bears. As Axel landed, Jour dealt a final blow to the dracolich and broke its neck with one mighty blow of his axe, sending the reanimated corpse to the ground in pieces.
Axel, however, was not his normal loquacious self. Kepeskrioz' soul returned to his phylactery within Skruumorden and then took control of Axel's body from within the bow. When Jour and Kieren approached, Axel blasted them with a cone of frigid air from his mouth. Kieren wrestled the bow from his hands, narrowly escaping a thrust from Axel's rapier, and threw it into his bag of holding for safekeeping. Axel returned to normal with the bow no longer in his possession. I now understand my Mistress's words, for the phylactery was within the bow, but not the whole of the bow itself. Itmiskalti was quite cunning, transforming the phylactery into a weapon against its creator.
Session Nine Continued
Nathaan and Meekeh rejoined us, the mage and monk wounded but alive. Nathaan reported that the Ebon Serpent was about to reach his goal and flew off to the northeast, leaving us to follow as best we could. We debated briefly what to do with the bow, concluding that we needed to deal with the King Immortal's phylactery first and then resolve the issue of Skruumorden. We left the surviving drow and Meekeh to begin the funeral preparations. I regret that, for that is a task I am best suited for, but I felt Death urging me onward. My only thought was to prevent the Ebon Serpent from attaining his goal, for he would cause far too many to die before their time.
Kieren led the way to the forests north of Scarbrow. The Ebon Serpent left the people of Scarbrow behind to block our path, but in their befuddled state they were nothing more than a minor obstacle. Flight spells by Kilmaral and Kieren enable them to bypass the townsfolk blocking our path, while Kieren carried me across. Jour revealed a new trick and slipped into the Ethereal Plane, while Axel nimbly climbed a tree and worked his way past them from above.
We found the ruins of the ancient shrine, which was surrounded by a massive group of dead morlocks, all very recently killed by spellfire of one kind or another. Kieren reported that at least two people had recently entered the ruins. We raced through the ruins, Axel in the lead disarming traps as we went. The druid we killed last night proved to be our greatest ally when we found a chasm filled with inky blackness, for his cloak enabled Kieren to move us across this trap beyond the reach of the monster within.
We descended belowground until we found ourselves apparently within the lake itself, an improbable bubble of air joining the cavernous path we were on to a pair of doors. Axel could find no lock to pick, but while he examined the door--apparently magically held shut--Jour was still ethereal and stepped through to open the doors from the other side. Onward we raced, finding more signs of battle and corpses of more morlocks as well as drow servitors of the Ebon Serpent. If I had examined the corpses closely, I am sure I would have noted that magic had killed all of them.
The shrine itself was simple. In its prime it must have been beautiful. The main room was nearly empty save for a statue of a man with a crown, orb, and scepter—most likely meant to represent the old kings of Andorras. While there was a room to our left, we immediately followed the sounds of battle to our right. We found another ruined room with an old desk and a few bookshelves. We quickly searched the desk and found a scrap of parchment. Kieren used a small magic to fix the parchment's damages, though he could not fully repair. I read what I could of it, but my knowledge of the language of Old Andorras is a bit sketchy. What I could make out read, "...next to receive the crown.... of the House of Sheen, named Nath..."
Nathaan was a member of the House of Sheen.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Session Nine, part 3
The door at the end of the northern hall halted our progress until Axel invisibly shadowjumped beyond it and we followed via one of Kieren's dimension door spells. Beyond the door were several pedestals, now empty, a crystal case that held an ornate crown—the Crown of Andorrasek—and two combatants. One was Nathaan, the other was the creature known as the Ebon Serpent. He was a revolting purple in color, his eyes sunken into his head, and tentacles waved where a mouth should have been. Both looked the worse for wear from battle. We engaged the Ebon Serpent, trusting in our alliance with Nathaan to hold. Nathaan used defensive magics to protect himself while the Ebon Serpent concentrated on our forces. A wave of psychic energy lashed out but most of us resisted it. I then realized that Axel was nowhere to be seen despite leading the way into the room, so I cast a spell of true seeing to locate him. Sure enough, his will had been overpowered and he stood near Nathaan, stunned. Nathaan himself seemed strange, a faint displacement visible in the air around him that I could not interpret. Jour closed with the illithid as Kieren began shooting arrows into the monster. Nathaan continued to ward himself while Kilmaral tried to injure the illithid. Unfortunately, the Ebon Serpent proved as resistant to magic as Kepeskrioz had and her spells failed. A wave of magic forced a veritable forest of black tentacles to erupt from the floor. I didn't bother to notice them, as my preparations from the battle with Kepeskrioz two hours before warded me completely from the tentacles. Kieren dove through them and resumed his attacks. In turn, I dispelled the magic holding Axel's mind and sent him rushing into the fray. I briefly caught a glimpse of a spirit near Jour as Axel closed that I assumed had been called by the warrior of Pirs, but the Ebon Serpent attempted to grapple with Jour before I could join the fray. From the expression on Jour's face, the attack was more disgusting than effective, however, as Jour seemed unharmed from the assault.
Two things then happened in rapid succession. Another wave of psychic energy erupted from the Ebon Serpent, albeit ineffectively as none of us succumbed. The other event was the sudden disappearance of Nathaan and the Crown, preceded by an enigmatic statement from the mage: “I hope that the right person asks the right question,” or something similar. I admit that I finally lost my temper and began cursing the Sheenoseki mage even as the illithid fell from several well-placed arrows. Kilmaral suggested wisely that we ensure the illithid's final demise as contingency magics could potentially save him. Kieren quickly decapitated the creature and began to search the body while the rest of us pursued Nathaan.
We found Nathaan in the main hall, the crown in one hand, an arcane scroll in the other. His flesh had begun to slough away as he chanted his spell. Axel slammed him back several steps with a burst of power from his ring, but Nathaan continued to chant his spell. Before I could act he finished the incantation. All he said to us was “None of you understand”. To our shock, his body disintegrated and the Crown suffered the same fate, the two falling to dust.
We stopped and stared at the dust for several long minutes before our wits regained control of our actions. We returned our attention to Skruumorden, Kieren casting a spell to protect himself from mental control as he examined the bow for weaknesses. We learned that the phylactery was within the bow and more or less essential to the bow due to my elven compatriot's expertise in crafting such weapons. We knew we needed an artifact to destroy the phylactery, and Kieren volunteered to try using his bow. It was a bolt of pure force that shattered Skruumorden to bone shards, and fortunately against all odds, Kieren's own bow was not destroyed in the process. Axel quickly explored the neighboring room and found an ornate set of armor there, but we ended our explorations quickly as an ominous rumbling filled the room. The destruction of two potent artifacts triggered the demise of the shrine, particularly the Crown of Andorrasek. I remember as little of our race to the surface as I do the race to the shrine, but I vaguely remember burning the black mist away with a fire storm instead of letting Kieren ferry us across. The entryway collapsed seconds after we emerged into the morning sunlight, leaving us standing in the open air once more.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Session Nine, part 4
As we made our way back to Scarbrow, we gathered the confused, milling citizens of Scarbrow and explained what had happened as gently as possible. Together, we returned to the town and the people began to pick up the pieces of their lives. The coins left in the wake of Kepeskrioz' demise were given to them, as were the gems, so as to compensate them for the damage to the inn the dracolich had done. Kieren still had the dragon's skull and a few bone shards, however. The drow and Meekeh had ignited the funeral pyre and cleaned up the mess left behind from our earlier battle and together we approached Meekeh, looking for answers.
The monk enlightened us somewhat but could not explain everything. Nathaan DoSheen was the King Immortal himself, occupying the body of one of his countrymen that had betrayed him. That countryman was the High Priest of Skaden, Durran DoSheen. I shivered as I realized that I had been killed by the High Priest of the Defier, though there is no way to know if Durran was the High Priest at the time without consulting records in Skadas Shee. I shivered even more as I realized that I had identified the man correctly, but not the soul, for the ghost in the shell had been that of a centuries-old lich. Meekeh did not admit to serving as one of the Immortal's Talons, but the implication was there nonetheless. Durran's soul is still in Sheenosek, as the King Immortal did not kill him but chose to keep the soul for his own purposes. What continues to elude me is the reason for the King Immortal to annihilate himself. Or, to be fair, if he did so at all. His unliving body was not present, I think, but only his spirit. A simulacrum was left to rule the realm but such things are transient. So the unliving body of the king is unaccounted for, as is the treacherous soul of a Skadenite priest. Meekeh estimates that word of the King Immortal's passing can be kept secret for one month, but we all fear that one of Durran's supporters might find a way to reconstruct him. Letting Skaden rule an entire nation directly is unacceptable, and we do not know if one of the mages or dragon-blooded of Sheenosek's nobility will prove to be a better choice.
Now we are resting before running south once more. Alanna has agreed to set us up with people we can contact as we make our way into Sheenosek, though she and Jour will not be joining us. The champion of Pirs and his lover are heading to the Diamond Kingdoms with the remains of Skruumorden and its puzzle-box container to honor our vow to return the artifact. The rest of us, including Kilmaral, are returning to Merrywell before venturing further south. The Ebon Serpent's minions attacked Merrywell but were driven off, or so Meekeh has informed us. Axel rightfully wants to check on his home before we depart for Skadas Shee. I expect that we will stop in Three Points again to sell off the spoils of battle. I will miss Jour as a traveling companion, for both the strength of his arm and his stout shield as well as his quiet wisdom and way with words. If nothing else, Jour made our travels in the Firas Empire far smoother. Axel has the skills of a consummate prankster but is not as versed in the thrust of negotiations and politics. Kieren is not skilled in social skills either, and I admit that I can only read other people and sometimes compel them to cooperate. Time will tell how much this will matter, for the Sheenoseki are going to be hard to deal with, I feel, no matter who speaks for us all.
This concludes the first arc of the campaign. The epilogue/denoument (can't spell that) will be in a few weeks as we unfortunately lose the paladin as he moves to New York and we look around for a new player. Comments continue to be welcome!
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
For the edification of... well, probably me and the group, I don't know who is actually reading this, but if someone else is, here's the party in glorious 28 mm:
http://www.angelfire.com/id/deathquaker/gaming/images/is_party.jpg
They are Reaper minis, painted by me. Sadly I have a piss-poor camera for macrophotography and live in a cave (I photographed them in a little photobox, but I still couldn't get enough light in), so the pics lack a little on detail.
Just want to say I'm having a blast running this, despite several moments of feeling like I have no idea what I'm doing (but I'm starting to suspect that any DM who does feel like they know what they're doing are doing it wrong ;) ). Really looking forward to the Pathfinder conversion (working on converting the NPCs and awaiting my copy of the Bestiary with baited breath), which I think is going to add some cool things to gameplay.
Due to time constraints had to cut a few events out of this final story arc but I hope it came together well; I'm actually kind of excited about the party going to Sheenosek because I wasn't really sure if that's what they'd want to do, so it gives me an opportunity to flesh out the nation a lot more.
Not meaning to rag on the party, but I find it amusing that Lathiira was worried about the dracolich, lich, and mind flayer, and the party from my perspective were far more confounded by the Arcane Lock spells. ;) In a way, I'm finding that combat is the least thing to worry about at high level adventures (well, until I clone the Tarrasque and send an army of them after the party but, SHHH, don't tell them); it's where the story and other kinds of challenges come together that keep things interesting.
We were confounded by 2nd-level wizard spells because someone, who shall remain nameless, didn't have one of the most ubiquitous 2nd-level wizard spells in the history of D&D in his spellbook! Which, truly, was amusing.
And let's see:
Dracolich: In your world, where dragons aren't all that common, and undead are rare and uniquely created, the combination just sounds...scary.
Lich: Oh no, we shouldn't be afraid of a centuries-old lich that is known to be from a magically-adept nation, oh no. The fact that he rules an entire nation doesn't help either.
Illithid: 'Nuff said.
Oh, and then we have drow allies that we hoped wouldn't backstab us like drow have been known to do in different worlds. Or the Sheenoseki who I want dead.