Kemek follows Gorion to the temple, and beyond...
Qorin nods, frowning at the sight of Gorion's blood. He tells himself it was necessary to prove that this was the true Gorion, but he is unable to shake the sense that he should have known, somehow. He follows behind the others as they hurry to the temple, absorbing the situation.
Doppelgangers, he thinks. Face-stealers. Why have they come for Gorion?
Leading the way, Gorion takes you to the Temple of Oghma first, where the Priest tends to your wounds. Minutes pass in tense silence, as it is obvious the Priest wishes to inquire as to what has happened, but Gorion's presence commands silence, and no words are exchanged. Finally, your wounds treated and gear gathered, Gorion leads you to the main gate, where he pauses for a moment as Captain Hull opens the gates. Gorion turns and faces each of you, resolve in his eyes.
Thy journey may be long, and perilous in ways thou cannot foresee. I shall strive to guide and protect you until journey's end, but even the Wise Alaundo would not be able to see what shall come to pass. If ever we are separated, or some misfortune should befall any of our group and split us apart, make way as best ye are able for the Friendly Arm Inn, due northeast of here, or north along The Coast Way road. It lies north of Beregost. There, ye will find Jaheira and Khaleid, true friends and allies in the times to come. Now, let us hurry, quickly! We have some hours until midnight, and I would be away from this place and safely hidden amongst the wild.
With this last message being shared, Gorion leads the march out the gate, and down the long winding cliff towards the Sword Coast, and the world beyond. Each of you takes one last look back as the great gates of Candlekeep shut, knowing that you may never return, and that a chapter in your lives has closed to reveal a new tale...for good, or for ill.
-----------------------------Prelude Complete---------------------------
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Act 1-Journey in the Night
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The journey passes in tense silence, and as you leave Candlekeep behind and begin to journey into the wilderness, you cannot help but feel a strange oppression in the air, a hostile feeling as if the whole land strives against you. Shadows twist just in the corner of your eye, and the noises of the night, even to those familiar with them, seem filled with a malevolence aimed towards each of you. Gorion does not speak, other than the occasional plea to hurry along, simply following the road from Candlekeep as quick as he can. As the miles stretch forth, and the hour approaches midnight, you come into a clearing in the forest.
Before you lies a break in the trees, in which are set four wide circles of small stones, arranged in a diamond pattern. The ground is firm, and the numerous wood around you would seem to make this an ideal camping spot, though it lie along the road. As you enter, Gorion suddenly stops, raising a hand to the air in a abrupt motion to halt. Looking around, he frowns, and suddenly draws forth his pouch of spell components. Looking back at each of you, you can see fear, resolve, and resignation upon his features.
We have walked directly into an ambush...prepare thyselves, and remember what I told ye! If all seems lost, gather close to me!
You have but a moment to speak or act. What do each of you do?
His eyes unaffected by the dark of night, Qorin peers into the surrounding woods, searching for whatever startled Gorion. At the same time, he raises the heavy maul high, ready to strike, standing close beside the wizard, feet planted.
Rasp quickly drew his short bow and notched an arrow.
"What are we facing, Old Man?"
Kemek readies his club, prepared to cast a spell at the first sign of adversaries.
As each of you prepares in whatever manner you choose, figures begin to emerge from across the clearing, figures that command your attention.
Two men emerge carrying clubs and slings, dressed in simple woodsman clothing, ragged with filth and scars. Common bandits, but they are nothing to what comes next.
Two massive, obese, and heavily muscled humanoid figures emerge from the shadows next, carrying massive greataxes and wearing breastplates. They are easily between 8 and 9 feet tall, and must weigh hundreds of pounds. Scars and tribal tattooing cover their scowling visages, and the creatures take up positions to either side of your group, malice evident in their eyes.
A woman, dressed in beautiful silken blue robes, with a highly stylized breastplate that accentuates her form but does not hinder it comes next. Her features are exotic, showing hints of the far eastern lands, and her skin bears a distinct golden tinge. She stands calmly, looking upon your group with a strange expression, holding a mace and a silver medallion bearing religious symbolism.
Common bandits, monstrous humanoids, and an exotic foreign beauty are both perplexing and dangerous enough, but the last figure to emerge is enough to make your blood run cold, and time seems to stand still as it marches forward.
A man, clad in midnight black plate approaches, stopping 30 feet from you. The armor gleams in the starlight, and at times seems to move of its own accord as the shadows flow across it. Greaves and pauldrons are worked into screaming skull motifs, and his terribly clawed gauntlets almost seem to drip with blood and exude ill intent. The breastplate is enameled with a demonic visage, with glowing ruby eyes that seem to stare straight into you. But the worst is yet to come...
The massive great helm is topped with bone white horns, and worked into the image of a demonic face. The face appears to be screaming, and the fanged maw is open, finally revealing a face that exudes presence, power...and murder. What little that can be seen shows glowing red eyes, and for a brief moment, as they lock with yours, Qorin and Rasp feel overwhelming urges to commit murder and spill blood.
He stalks forward, drawing a massive sword from a large sheath across his back. The blade is lined with dark, glowing runes, and the pommel bears a symbol of a skull surrounded by droplets of blood. Black onyx gems lie upon either side of the hilt, and as he drives the blood into the ground and gazes upon you, it almost sounds like the blade is whispering to each of you.
Make Wisdom Insight Checks.
The woman's expression seems to convey pity, regret, and sadness, yet a acceptance of what is happening. It is obvious she does not wish to be here, but yet she must, drawn to the armored figure before you.
Even all of this cannot compare to the sound of his voice. Deep and overwhelming, it embodies the calm, uncaring tone of the assassins blade whilst humming with the raging fury of the blood soaked mass murderer. It whispers like a last breath in the night, and echoes through the night with dark potential.
Greetings, Old Man. Hand over your wards, and you have my promise your death will be swift. Defy me, and the God's themselves shall tremble in the atrocities I shall visit upon your flesh.
Gorion looks back at each of you, then turns towards your assailants.
Ye know that I shall not give into thy demands, as much as that would please ye. Thy presence is felt, but fear will not command me. Flee, foul worm, whilst ye have the chance. Ye shall not touch those under my care.
He turns slightly and whispers in your direction.
Remember what I told ye. Stay close, and if fate so chooses, flee without me to the Friendly Arm Inn!
What do you do?
"I'm not going down without a fight," Rasp whispered.
With not but a second thought, he pulled back his bowstring taut and fired at one of the bandits.
Kemek has no idea what is happening, but it doesn't seem good.
He lashes out with a thunderwave centred on the woman in blue sensing perhaps the large creatures may resist it with their mass and strength...
Qorin positions himself between Gorion and the man in black, and roars, whirling his maul over his head in a powerful two-handed grip.
As Rasp releases his arrow, time seems to flow again, and hell breaks loose upon the clearing. His arrow flies true, striking one of the Bandit's straight through the heart! The man has but a moment to cry out in pain before blood sprays from his open mouth and the wound. He falls over, dead before he even hits the ground.
The remaining Bandit responds by loading a few stones, and with a swift flick of the wrist, sends them flying at Rasp!
Both large monstrous humanoids come rushing in towards Kemek, but his well places Thunderwave throws them back and to the ground!
As all this is going on, Qorin moves to defend Gorion, issuing a roaring challenge towards all the enemies threatening you, especially the armored man. The Bandit, the Exotic Women, even the massive creatures seem to be thrown off by it, but the Armored Figure makes no sound and does not flinch.
However...
This whole time, the Armored Figure has not moved, indeed you cannot tell if he has even breathed. He watches the death of his man, and the resulting chaos in dead silence. Finally, a deep, booming laugh echoes from his helm and the menacing sound slices through the forest and seems to surround the group.
Hahahahaha...your wards have a fire, and a passion for bloodletting...good! This shall serve me well. Now, this is over!
From statue to fluid killer, the Armored Figure breaks into a sprint, reversing the grip on his sword and bringing the blade to bear. He rushes straight beside Qorin, where he pauses and lashed out with one vicious clawed hand!
The hand barely grazes your face Qorin, but as it does, all the memories of every kill you have ever made, every drop of blood you have ever spilled come rushing to the fore of your thoughts! Your vision turns red, and you can feel something deep down inside of you responding to the lust, the thirst...for murder. The emotions are overwhelming, like nothing you have ever felt or imagined, and too much to handle. Your weapon shakes from your grasp as your trembling body struggles to contain this feeling, and you fall to your knees, unable to breath or move, all thoughts drowned out by an insane craving for murder and blood.
With Qorin down, the Armored Figure turns towards Gorion. Taking a two handed grip on his awful blade, he rears back and then lashes forward, impaling your friend and mentor cleanly upon the blade. With awful might, the Armored Figure raises the blade up as Gorion slides down it, blood spewing from his wound and mouth, coating the Armored Figure in an awful crimson sheen.
But Gorion will not back down.
Shouting in pain, agony, and determination, Gorion snarls out a string of arcane words, and glowing energy begins to gather around him, arcing out to encompass each of you. The clearing begins to glow with light, and each of you hear a humming noise that resonates inside you.
The Foreign Woman shouts out a warning to the Armored Figure and begins casting her own magics! As the glow fully surrounds each of you, a globe of magical force rushes form her fingers and strikes the glow around each of you.
The world turns upside down, and each of you feel almost as if you have been turned inside out. Everything fades away, until moments later, with a loud audible sound of air rushing into the area, the glow fades. Overwhelming sickness and pain courses through each of you, and the last thing you all see, before darkness overtakes you, is a heavily forested area with no clearing, no Armored Figure, no Woman, no Bandits, no monsters...and no Gorion.
Then the world turns black, and you pass out.
Uruk and Ridel, for whatever reason you have found yourself traveling together, towards Candlekeep. Ridel's guide had left the road in an attempt to save time, but ended up getting lost in the wild, whereas Uruk is used to these lands. Finding each other, Uruk has been guiding Ridel back towards the road. It is late at night, and you were beginning to prepare for camp.
As you find a likely spot, a loud thundering sound can be heard in the distance! Moments later, a white light fills the area, and with a loud crack, three figures are suddenly before you! A moment later, they each fall over, unconscious as far as you can tell.
What do you do?
Uruk sighs to himself as he sets the camp, this "Ridel" represented the height of what made him wary of the rules and relationships of the larger cities. For the half-orc nobility made little sense and his general impression was one of indifference and arrogance. Yet, despite this preconceived notion, Ridel had been polite and, at least on the exterior, unconcerned in the aid coming from a half-orc. This incident only continued to prove that the world was more complicated than Uruk might sometimes like to admit and the revelation made the ranger admonish himself for his tendency to stereotype.
Caught in mid-thought the light that comes is blinding and the crack surprising to say the least. By instinct Uruk draws his short sword but quickly sees that the event has brought mystery, not violence. Sheathing his sword the half-orc approaches the fallen arrivals. A human, a man of clock-work??? and...
Uruk kneels and checks Qorin for a pulse, turning to Ridel the ranger gestures to the barbarian before him, I know him, he is from Candlekeep.
Finding himself at a loss without the aid of his guide, Ridel steers his horse Avarnidin to accompany his new 'guide'. Too close to the appearance of a greenskin than for his personal liking, Ridel tried to put aside his preconceptions of the race and accept the guidance that was offered, if not in friendship, at least in companionship.
"Are you certain?" He asks with some incredulity, as he reins his horse and tries to control it from its sideways prancing. The scent of blood still filled the area. He dismounted swiftly, moving to check the other unconscious bodies, looking for signs of their identity and attempting to sense what magic might have brought them here.
twitch, *wheeze*, tick-tick, twitch, *wheeze*, tick-tick...
Ridel, you do not see anything that would help you identify then. Judging by the light and sound, you would assume some form of teleportation magic brought them here...though that does not account for the unconsciousness or the burned mans injuries.
Uncertain what to expect next, Ridel takes out his crystal orb.
"Any sign of movement in the trees? Whatever attacked these men might still be out there."
He does what he can to help move the unconscious figures to the campfire. Keeping his crystal orb close at hand.
As you move them, each of them begin to stir.
Kemek, Rasp, Qorin, feel free to join in now. You are waking up.
Uruk offers a withering glance to the elf but keeps calm as he talks, I'm certain enough to know another like myself. We aren't thick in this area if you take my meaning.
Shifting Qorin to move him to a better position (an effort which is clearly more difficult than it should be for a person of Uruk's size) the ranger pauses and let's the other half-orc go as the group starts to stir.
Not sure how you got here, but you are safe. Take your time to come to. You don't look injured but its best not to rush to your feet.
Turning to Ridel, Uruk shakes his head. Nothing out there. Just the light and then them. I agree that something might be out there but I doubt its close. Given that they are still breathing I would say escape rather than attack...
Uruk looks at the others calmly as they wake.
Startled awake, Rasp deftly flips up to his feet and draws his dagger.
"Who are you?! Where is Gorian?!" he shouted.
Uruk stands and holds his hands up showing he is unarmed. Gorian? Of Candlekeep? You are on the road, and a bit a ways away from the tower. Only you three showed up.
Uruk gestures to emphasize his point.
Kemek lies still, uncertain of this new situation. He has a new... feeling within his self, partly physical, partly something else. Fear? Yes, but not just a sense of adrenaline and danger. Anger? No. Not hatred. Pain?
Sorrow. The only true friend of any standing is...gone. And now his new friends, Rasp and Qorin may be in danger.
Kemek whips around on his elbows to face these new personages, ready to cast a spell...then drops his guard as he senses Uruk means no harm, and may in fact have saved him somehow... He stays prone.
"My thanks, good being. I am Kemek - these are Rasp and Qorin, recently of Candlekeep. We were beset by a mighty warrior, evil as the blackest heart. He slew my mentor Gorion, in the woods outside that sturdy fortress. Bandits, a pair of ogres and an enchantress completed his retinue. They may yet seek us as wards of Gorion. We should not linger here." Kemek's voice is dry and rough, his inflection and idiom odd and somehow impersonal for all its elocution.
Kemek coughs, a horrid racking sound as he rises, faltering momentarily. He eyes Ridel curiously, looking up at the mounted elf.
"Well met." is all he can manage before returning to arranging his belongings for travel, evidently keen to push on immediately, though he has given no indication as to where.
Gorian. Slain.
Yes, now Rasp remembered Gorian's body being impaled, and then sliding down...
His dagger fell lifeless from his fingers. He moved over to the side and vomited violently. He had seen death before, but not like that. After the painful heaves of his empty stomach subsided, he wiped his lips, and then retrieved his dagger.
The Old Man had given him orders, he was going to follow them.
"Kemek, Qorin -- We..."
He wanted to say they had to move, but they were as tired and injured as he was. They needed to tend their wounds, to regroup.
To prepare for war.
He turned to the two strangers who had found them. If they wanted to kill them, they already had ample opportunity.
"I'll pay you a gold piece each, if you let us share your camp tonight. Tomorrow we can go our separate ways."
Ridel shook his head sadly, as though trying to clear it of the dreadful news. "Gorian of Candlekeep, dead? This is dreadful. It seems almost as though my purpose is defeated as soon as I step out from our peaceful valley."
His ears perk up again, as he hears tell of the enchanter with the group that attacked Gorian. "What can you tell me of this enchantress? Did she possess very powerful magics? Or simply mundane ones?"
To the fellow that had offered wealth to share the camp, Ridel shook his head. "Nonsense. We are fellow travelers even if we do not travel together. The fire, and what comfort we can allow, are free for the sharing. I hope you three will recover. And on the morrow, if we can find his body, perhaps we could hold a burial for your Candlekeep friend?"
Kemek nods at the elf's question.
"The enchantress….I did not see much of her magics. In truth she was perhaps more likely a cleric - a breastplate, a holy medallion. Her skin, brown, an exotic golden tinge… Forgive me. This is difficult for I…me…"
He pauses. looking up at the tall trees, feeling the wind on his body. He looks down at his pack… He visibly sags before continuing.
"Much as I wish to honor Gorion's ways, or anybody else's, I am not keen to find the battle site. The warlord was very powerful, and his companions likewise. I say again, we should move far way from here."
Slowly, the visions of murder and violence fade. Qorin wakes to hear voices. Talking with purpose, but no immediate urgency. He opens his eyes. Kemek, the machine-man and Rasp the thief are there. The broken half-orc Uruk as well, and an elf he doesn't recognize. The first two were with him when.... He touches his face where the creature in black had swiped at him, feels nothing other than a dull fury. He sits up, listening.
Gorion is dead. It was no dream.
"Uruk, is that you?" he says. "It is as my companions have said. Gorion is dead."
"Gorion told us where to go," he says, turning to Kemek and Rasp. "I do not think we will honor him by risking our lives to recover his corpse. I believe we should respect his dying wishes and follow the path he set for us."
To the elf, he gives a nod of greeting. "Thank you for your fire. I am Qorin."
Uruk nods to the other half-orc Aye, its me.
Thoughtful for a moment Uruk looks about the group. I agree with the elf, no need for funds. It is not simple luck that brought you here I think. Too strange to be put in the path of those known to each other. We will camp and then, if you have need, I will accompany you to your next destination.
Uruk pauses a moment. Safety in numbers and all that.
Rasp is unsure how to interpret The Elf refusing their money, and the Half-Orc insisting to go with him.
He sighs.
"Thank you," he said wearily. "I just need to - to rest. We have done so much today."
Rasp sat against a tree, and fell asleep.
"While I can understand your need to move forward, I noticed that when you teleported here you did not arrive with your own mounts or survival gear. Were you traveling by foot, or were they perhaps left behind?" While cordially neutral for the most part, there is a hint of concern in the words.
Kemek looks about, momentarily confused, as if he has lost something. Then he remembers he has. He shakes his head.
"No. No mounts. And I have my pack. We have our gear. We are on our way to the..." Kemek freezes. A dawning realization strikes him. He suddenly holds his hands toward Ridel, speaking over his shoulder to Rasp and Qorin, not noticing Rasp has collapsed.
"Qorin, Rasp. These could be facestealers...doppelgangers. Take care of the lame one."
He turns to Ridel
"Please. Drop your belt and weapons and be dismounting carefully. We do not know you, nor if you are you. Or if you used to be you and now are not... That is to say...." He falters midsentence, as if from some internal struggle. The strange amalgam of fused metal and lignin pulses at Kemek's temple. He vomits, and slumps to the ground unconscious.
"Godcursedamnmotherstabber" Qorin mutters to himself, but drags himself to his feet at the same time, drawing his maul again. He holds it ready, but his stance is weary, not threatening
"Steady Kemek," he says, "I know Uruk from Candlekeep. Uruk, where did we first meet?"
Uruk grunts at the other half-orc, The hallway outside of Gorin's quarters. Later the bar. You seemed to think I was 'a good hunter for someone so weak'.
Uruk looks over at Rasp and then at the unconscious clockwork man. Your friends are exhausted. I think it best we finish setting the camp. Without anymore prompting the ranger sets about making a fire, and in general getting things set for the night to go by without any further incident.
Ridel looks over the unconscious gondsman sadly. "I would move him closer to the fire, but I do not know if that would help him any. A strange fellow, I fear I do not know enough about the gondsmen to be of any medical or artificiary assistance."
Ridel ties his horse's reins to a nearby tree, and ensures that those who are asleep or unconscious are at least lying in comfortable positions.
The night passes quietly, with no sight nor sound of the Armored Figure and his retinue. The dawn rises on an overcast, gloomy spring day. The forest seems quietly subdued, as if it mourns for you. Each of you awake, no doubt with thoughts and questions regarding the recent events.
What do you do?
]
Kemek wake slowly, groggy and feeling… indistinct. He pieces together the memory of the previous 24 hours.
Rising, he checks his belongings. Though his senses and heart tell him to be cautious, he feels he is not in danger, and if he were, he would be dead by now. He deduces that it is likely these new persons are *not* enemies, and if they are, their long range plan must be very detailed and must necessarily have many provisions for future occurrences. And if that is all true, then he, Kemek, Lathander's gondsman, should keep eye and ear open to watch them.
But again, he thinks, it is likely they are merely random folk met in the woods, their unfortunate fate to meet him and his fellows.
He shakes Rasp and Qorin, checks on their physical wellbeing, and prepares them for leaving.
It is time to travel. Gorion mentioned the Friendly Arm Inn. What good arriving there will bring he cannot know - it is all that remains. He can only hope their enemies are not there waiting for them. He speaks to Uruk and Ridel as one:
"Good sirs - if thy trust is in fact true, and honor fills your hearts, please, accompany us, and we may tell you all we know. If after that, you wish to remain with us and join in bond to combat evil, well and good. If not, then a tall tale you have to earn a warm bed in some tavern or courtly locale."
Rasp awoke to Kemek’s prodding and shaking. “Enough, enough. I’m awake.”
Mechanically he drank water from his wineskin and eat some rations. Had it only been a two days since he had dinner with Gorian? So much had happened. It made him feel helpless and angry, but more than anything he just felt tired.
Tymora, give me strength to endure this journey.
He looked at the two strangers that had watched over them. One was a ranger, according to Qorin. And the other was a mage of some sort. Not too many folks carried wands needlessly after all. They could be useful.
”Kemek, these two don’t owe us anything. But I would speak true to them. We are not on a quest to defeat evil. We are on a mission of vengeance. Gorian was a good man, loved by many. And for good reason. His last wish was for us to journey to this tavern, and so we will honor that. But soon the time will come when we will have to face the man in black armor. He had a retinue with him. And make no mistake they are powerful. But we will face them.”
“And then they shall pay for the lives they stole,” he said in a voice that sounded more like a growl.
“We are not snot-nosed brats playing at adventurers to find trinkets in Under Mountain. From this point forward, we are a war band bound by our mutual fury.”
”But this is not your fight. Accompany us to the tavern. That it is all I ask. I will gladly pay you for that service. Beyond that -- well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
"I understand vengeance." Ridel said quietly as he stood from his trance position. "Revenge is just, in its own right. I will not stand in your way to accomplish whatever it is you need."
He quickly packed his belongings, groomed Avarnidin in preparation for journey again. He wondered if the others were still injured from the previous night. "If you have need of more rest while we walk to the inn, feel free to let my horse carry your packs. He is a noble beast, loyal to a fault, and I would ensure what rest for you I can. Perhaps at the Friendly Arm Inn, we will all find more answers to the questions of fate and destiny."
Qorin wakes from a deep sleep and listens to the conversation. He nods his agreement. The five of them should go to the tavern. If, at that point, they have no other clue as to Gorion's plan, he will hunt down the black-armored creature and destroy it.
"Let us go, then," he growls, shouldering his pack.
Uruk listens taking to his morning tasks. As the decision to move is agreed on the half-orc merely nods in ascent.
There was anger here he could sense it. Rage and pain. Was revenge the best motive? Perhaps not but Uruk could not deny the sudden collision of the two groups. Uruk knew what the pain of betrayal could bring. He would follow and aid as best he could, and if needed be a soothing voice to the raging creatures he was now caught up with.