For several weeks, excitement has been building in Kenabres - Armasse is coming! Traditionally an opportunity for scholars and priests to come together to study the lessons of history from wars past, since Aroden's death, this holy day has become more about training commoners in weaponry, choosing squires, and ordaining new priests. Over time, Armasse has grown to encompass jousting competitions, mock duels, battle reenactments, and other festival events. In Kenabres, the festival (which takes place on the 16th of Arodus) is eagerly anticipated, for it provides distractions from the horrors of being on the front line of the war. Smiles on faces normally marred by downcast eyes and furrowed brows do wonders for city morale in the weeks leading up to the event.
Armasse is a citywide celebration, but the majority of the event, including its jousting matches and other entertainments, takes place at Clydwell Plaza, just west of the cathedral.
Armasse officially begins at noon, with the blessing of the festival by Lord Hulrun himself, ruler of Kenabres. The crowd gathered in Clydwell Plaza quiets as the aged inquisitor takes the stage, clad in shining, resplendent armor. He clears his throat, but just as he is about to speak, a bright light shines from the west, as if the sun we re rising from the wrong direction. Hulrun's shadow falls huge and distorted across the cathedral's facade. A moment later, the sound of a thunderous explosion rips through the air and earth, along with a violent tremor.
To the west, the fortress known as the Kite- the location of Kenabres's wardstone - vanishes. In its place, a brilliant plume of red fire, lightning, and smoke erupts into the heavens. A moment later , a powerful roar accompanies a welcome sight rising from the crowd - Kenabres's greatest guardian, the ancient silver dragon Terendelev, who had until that moment been attending the opening ceremony disguised as a human. Above, another form appears, as nightmarish as the dragon is breathtaking. A humanoid shape three times the size of any man, with skin coated in fire and lightning, grips a flaming sword and whip. The creature's identity is immediately obvious: Khorramzadeh, the Storm King of the Worldwound, has come to Kenabres!
As the ground continues to shake and disgorge demons into the streets, the dragon and the balor lord clash above. The fight is over in a few harrowing moments, as the balor cuts deep into Terendelev's body, swooping down to strike the dragon and arresting her charge. A few more blows, and the titanic duo spiral downward toward the crowd. The sight of the dragon smashing in to the facade of the Cathedral of St. Clydwell is one no witness will ever forget. At that moment, a titanic demon erupts at the far end of the plaza, reducing several buildings to ruins as it smashes into this world. The rift it creates shoots across the plaza, and this time there is no escape - it opens below the Crusader's feet, angling away into darkness. Even as they fall, the dragon notices their plight. Though she sees death standing over her, she seizes this final chance to save a few more souls. After she utters a few arcane words and stretches out a bleeding talon the falling Crusaders feel her magic take hold of them, slowing their plummet into the darkness as if they were feathers falling into a pit. Yet the fall remains as inexorable, and as they drift downward in to the depths, the last thing they see is the Storm King standing before the ancient silver dragon, his sword lashing out and cleaving full through her neck. As her severed head falls, the rift above the Crusaders slams shut, and the light of the world above is gone.
No!
That was the only thing that could come to Valeria's mind as she plummeted was the doom that had befallen them if even the mighty Terendelev could be slain, and so quickly. Tears streamed down the young girl's face as she slowly descended into the cavern that had opened up and seemingly swallowed Kenabres.
Why me? Why have the gods seen fit to repeatedly put me through demon-inspired turmoil?
After a moment of thinking to herself between sobs, another thought came to her mind. Because perhaps I can do something about it, even if it is a small bit of help.
She managed to compose herself and put a stop to her tears and began taking stock of the predicament she was in. Fortunately, her celestial heritage granted her a small benefit in the situation. She could see a short distance around her, and looked over those around her joining in her slowed plummet.
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No, gods, no..
Silver tears wiped away by the silver-haired boy mourning the silver-scaled dragon. A strong bronze poor grasps his shaking shoulder, trying to settle the resounding rebounding corners of his mind set to-ing and fro-ing by the violent speed of events witnessed, by the bruises battered upon his form.
Such a hero, dead, saved me, saved us tried to save us...
Nathaniel. Stand.
In the darkness, he turns his head to find the glowing rune on his friend's head; the rune matching his own dim one. Be now. Nodding to each other, both tense and gingerly stand, Nathaniel drawing his polearm and using it as a crutch to lever himself upright.
"H... hello?" He licks his lips, takes a breath then speaks again, steadier. "Is everyone alright?"
A drawn piece of chalk ignites, shedding golden light on the area and the two figures; one a young half-elf boy with white hair and green eyes, the other a lion-headed warrior with claws paws for hands and feet. The elf speaks again. "I... I'm Nat, this is Bart." He looks around. "Where are we?"
Valeria steps into the light, which seemed to intensify the color of her hair, making it glisten like a finely polished gold coin on a bright summer day. In contrast to the elf standing before her, Valeria's skin is well tanned, evidence of many hours spent outdoors. She wears a suit of studded leather armor and holds a powerful looking bow in her left hand, an arrow in the string but not drawn. She sheepishly steps closer to the pair, and says, "I'm...Valeria. What in the Rose's name is going on?"
She then looks over at the lion-headed creature standing beside the young man and says, "And...if you don't mind my asking, what are you?"
I thought I had seen others during the fall...but I...I just don't know anymore.
Woohoo! Wait. Is that part of the show?
THUD.
"Ow!"
Fidget immediately bursts into tears.
"The poor dragon!" she says to the darkness, sniffling woefully. She wipes her eyes and her nose with one sweep of her sleeve. "Ewwwww! Boogs!"
She notices a light pop into existence across the space. "Hey, buddy! I've got that, too!" Her hairtie suddenly glows brightly, throwing light on her tiny frame. Fidget's hair is almost supernaturally yellow, and her chocolate brown eyes are excessively large and adorable. Her ski slope nose and splash of freckles contribute even more to her overall cuteness. Her skin is tan, and her dark brown traveling clothes are relatively simple and delightfully cozy. She peers up at her companions, literally, as they tower over her.
She meanders over to Valeria and extends a tiny hand. "I'm Fidget! Wow, you're pretty!"
As the Crusaders dust themselves off, take stock of their situation, and get some light going, they notice that the wall of rubble behind them contains numerous examples of how close they came to death. Here and there, bodies are mixed with the rubble - citizens of Kenabres whom the dragon could not save.
Not all of these victims perished, though. In addition to the Crusaders now stirring, there are five other survivors who were saved by the dragon's feather fall. There is an old looking ratfolk wearing robes, who appears to currently still dazed from the fall. There is also a human woman in leather armor, with a bow and sword. She clutches an injured leg. A ways from them is an older human man sitting up and brushing dust off his fine noble's clothing. A white-haired elf in robes clutches at his eyes, muttering to himself in elven "I'm blind...?". Finally a darkly armored warrior pushes himself to his feet, taking in his surroundings.
The ceiling and far walls of this vast cavern recede into darkness. On one side, the wall has collapsed in an enormous mound of rubble - here and there the arms or legs of more victims who didn't survive the fall protrude. In the back of the cavern, a disturbing shape looms. Nearly the size of a horse, what appears to be an immense black spider crouches silent and still on the ground.
The dark warrior makes his way over to the gnome and half-elf with their light spells. "We have company," he says curtly, pointing to the still form of the spider.
Valeria reflexively blushes at the unexpected compliment, but before she can respond, she notes the rest of their company.
A rat-man? And...a well...I dunno what...
She begins to draw back on her bow, raising the weapon slightly at the dark warrior's appearance. However, before she can truly take aim, her eyes take in the carnage fully. The bowstring relaxes, and the color of her skin turns pale as she takes in the ghastly sight. She falls to her knees, leaning forward on her hands as she gasps for breath, desperately trying not to vomit up the baked grouse she had during the festival earlier that day.
We're doomed. Doomed to die just like so many all around us.
As the dark warrior announces the presence of something else in the chamber with them, she claws at the ground for her bow and shakily rises to her feet, leveling the weapon in it's direction.
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The creature turns its head and speaks a rare word to Valeria- "Bartimaeus." Turning towards the spider though continuing to glance at the dark-armored warrior, it flexes its claws and emits a low rumble from its throat, threatening to burst into a roar.
Swallowing nervously at the bodies all around him, Nathaniel stills and grows calmer at the sight of the immense spider. Blade drawn and held in a practiced pose, he steps between the other survivors and the creature.
Fidget grimaces in disgust at the spider. "Yucky! I hope it doesn't walk on me!" she whispers, hoping to avoid catching the spider's attention.
The spider remains still. As the Crusaders react, the burnt elf gets to his feet. "What's that? Who's there?"
The nobleman scowls and says, "We've fallen into a great bloody hole and now there's a giant spider stalking us! Lovely! What are you, blind?!"
"Well yes actually, a blow from the Storm King took my sight....Horgus Gwerm? Is that you?" the elf replies.
"Yes, Master Aravashnial, it is him," says the human woman, trying to rise to her feet. She cries out in pain as she puts weight on her broken leg and collapses back onto the ground. "It's me, Aneiva...Irabeth's wife. My leg's broken," she winces.
"Well, Mr. Gwerm, Mrs. Tirablade, it seems we are stuck together. Who else is down here with us, I heard other voices. We must make it back to the surface as quickly as possible! With the Kite fallen, the city must be in chaos. Have any of the rest of you served in the Wound? Please, tell me you are veterans," Aravashnial almost begs.
"Look like a bunch of scared girls and freaks to me!" Gwerm interjects. "We're all going to die..." he concludes, throwing up his hands in mock resignation.
Fidget approaches the injured human. "Let me help you!"
Before the woman can say anything in response, the gnome grasps an iron symbol of a winged woman hanging around her neck with her right hand and places her left hand on the broken leg.
Fidget then frowns at Gwerm. "I'm not a girl! Hrmph! I'm a very small woman!" A scimitar and a wooden shield hanging off her belt give some credence to this claim.
"Thank you," Aneiva says to Fidget, smiling in genuine gratitude. "That feels a little better, but it's going to take either more healing, or a splint and a crutch for me to be able to walk I think."
Valeria tries to keep her hands from shaking, and lowers her bow to make it less obvious. He's right. We are going to die down here.
Valeria sees Fidget go to try to tend to the woman's broken leg, and moves to try to help. Hopefully Nathaniel and that thing can keep the spider at bay if it attacks...
"This...this is probably going to hurt, hun'. Try and keep still. You said your name is Aneiva? Mine is Valeria," she says, trying to distract the injured woman.
By the time the two women manage to splint Aneiva's leg, Valeria's nerves have settled somewhat, and she begins to take stock of the situation.
Well, so far at least two of us are capable of some magic, which is a plus. Nathaniel, Fidget, and the dark armored man seem calm under pressure, calmer than I have been at least. This woman appears to have at least some skill in combat, so hopefully this injury won't hold her back if something gets near. The rat-man...I don't know about him...he could still be a threat even. The elf is blind and scared, and the nobleman is being more of a downer than I am. We are going to need to calm him some if we are going to work together...
She looks to make sure Fidget will not need her help anymore, then stands and moves towards the nobleman. "Lord Gwerm, ser. You are right in the fact that, well, at least I am scared. The city was just attacked by the Storm Lord, slew Terendelev, and we have been cast into a hellish situation. I hope you can forgive us for being a bit unnerved, given the circumstances." Valeria bows her head apologetically, then moves and puts a reassuring hand on the elf's arm. "As to being a veteran of the Wound, well, I've never served in the Crusades yet myself, but I have trained my entire life for...for the opportunity. Now that it is here, I hope I can live up to the task. If you need someone to guide you, given your wound, I'll gladly try to be of service."
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Valeria and Fidget manage to get Aneiva's leg splinted up nicely, and get her a crutch from some of the fallen timber. As they are looking through the rubble, the come across four large silver scales - scales that fell from Terendelev. As they pick them up, they gain an inherent understanding that these scales contain powerful magic.
These palm-sized silver dragon scales are unique items-essentially minor artifacts resulting from Terendelev's death on the Storm King's blade. Each of Teren delev' s scales grants a different power to the person who carries them. The powers granted do not function at all if more than one scale is carried. The powers of the four scales are listed below-any nonevil creature that handles a scale immediately understands its use.
Cloudwalking: Three times per day as a standard action, a scale can be used to cast levitate. A pillar of roiling clouds rises below the levitating object or creature, growing and shrinking with the target's altitude. This pillar is 5 feet in diameter (regardless of the target's size) and provides concealment (20% miss chance) to any creature or object wholly contained within.
Disguise: Three times per day as a standard action, a scale can be used to cast alter self. While disguised, the target gains a +4 bonus on all Bluff checks made against evil creatures.
Resistance: Three times per day as a standard action, a scale can be used to cast resist elem ents-but only against electricity or cold.
Sacred Weaponry: Three times per day as a standard action, a scale can be used to cast align weapon, but only to make a weapon lawful or good. Unlike a normal align weapon spell, this effect
can be cast on an unarmed strike or natural weapon.
"Pleasure to meet you," Aravashnial responds to Valeria with a smile. He seems much reassured by her presence.
"What are the rest of your names? Do you have any experience fighting demons?"
"I am Ruarc Bataar. Fear not for my skill, elf. I can handle myself," the heavily armored warrior says in his deep gravelly voice. "We should investigate that spider. Fidget, Bart and Nat, will you accompany me to confront that spider? It looks like our only way out." The man's hand falls to the hilt of his black bastard sword, and he unconsciously begins running his thumb over the hair woven into the hilt.
"Oh, good. At least we're not without any warriors. Can someone please act as my eyes? I may not be much good blind, but I am a relatively accomplished wizard, and know many things that might be of use down here. I also have some magical resources we might use in an emergency," Aravashnial says.
Aneiva winces to her feet. "I'll be your eyes, Aravashnial. I'm not going to be much use in a fight with this bum leg anyway." She hobbles over to the elven man and puts one hand on his shoulder. She begins describing their surroundings to him in a whisper so as not to disturb further conversation.
Horgus just scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. "Yeah! Do what the wannabe hellknight says. Go kill that spider so we can get out of this turd hole," he whines. Clearly the nobleman is unused to hardship, and lacks social graces.
"I had better go help them. I will be right back."
Valeria moves over with the others, keeping them between herself and the arachnid, and maintaining a safe distance from the beast.
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Fidget stands behind Horgus and crosses her arms over her chest. As he complains, she crosses her eyes and sucks in her cheeks, tilting her head back and forth to the pace of his speech. She stifles a giggle, then shrugs her shoulders and raises an eyebrow at Valeria. When he says "turd hole," she giggles audibly, but quickly composes herself and approaches Ruarc.
"I've never fought any demons, but a demon attacked me once! It was pretty bad! But it actually wasn't very scary! Just ugly!" she recounts, now standing at Ruarc's side. "I guess I can help with the spider," she offers, grimacing a little on the word "guess." She draws her scimitar and holds up her shield in preparation.
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As the Crusaders close with the spider, Nat's close observation reveals two disturbing elements-a muffled chewing sound and a bulge wriggling inside of the spider's abdomen.
"See that?" Ruarc whispers to the others.
The spider itself remains absolutely still, even as the Crusaders get within twenty feet of it.
After brushing dust off himself and collecting the spilt contents of his spell component pouch, the man-rat looks over at the other survivors. With eyes -- and nose -- perfectly accustomed to life below ground, he takes a minute to sniff and stare. Can I trust them? Who knows. A few of them look like crusaders anyway...and I was bound to end up entrusting myself to crusaders at some point...
Finally he shrugs, If only I were better at reading humans' expressions...bah!
Walking into the light, the assembled see a bone-white humanoid rat who might be a hair over four feet tall if he stood up straight. He has a brown silk haramaki wrapped around his waist and has what seem to be cat skulls tied to his belt, protruding from under his orange-brown cloak.
Extending a paw in a salute to the injured, he chuckles, "Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo. If I came to the Worldwound for excitement...well I guess I got my wish. I suppose I'd best aid those brave, hairless ones over there."
Tiknesr draws and loads his crossbow as he walks up behind the others, coming in beside Valeria. With a smirk he says, "Tiknesr of the Th'th'th'th'slifp clan, reporting for duty."
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"Hey, guys? We also found these things over there, big silver dragon scales. I touched them and suddenly knew way more stuff than I already know. It was weird! Dragon scales, that do stuff," she informs the party.
As the ratling moves up beside her, Valeria can't help but feel a shiver of disgust roll through her. This thing clearly did not have Shelyn's blessing.
"Valeria," she replies, shifting her gaze back towards the spider.
The more they stand there staring at it, the more clear it becomes that this spider is dead. It's not moving at all, and it's not crouched so much as slumped onto the floor. The only movement or noise comes from its abdomen, where the internal wriggling continues.
The man-rat hides a wince when the pretty human shivers and quickly looks away.
I didn't come to the Worldwound for friends though, did I? There's power -- and great knowledge -- to be claimed up here. Just look at these dragon scales! So what if they don't like me? So what if I was backstabbed out of my coven back in Cassomir? There's power here for the taking, and I'm going to grab it!
As Nat advances toward the spider, he reflects...And they seem brave, at any rate. Assuming it's not the bravery of fools, they might be good allies yet -- and by Nethys' mask, I won't get far here without allies!
Two maggots the size of doberman pincers with greasy, pale flesh and dripping, circular mouths filled with tiny, sharp teeth burst from the spider's abdomen and wriggle forward to attack Nat!
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Initiative
Party 15
Maggots 15-
"By the Rose! That is disgusting!" Valeria blurts out as she aims her bow. The arrow buries itself deep into the things flesh. She then circles around to get a better line on the second vermin, knocking another arrow as she does so.
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Cringing a bit as the massive maggots come out, Tiknesr grits his yellowed teeth and steps up beside Valeria, muttering "Well, she seems more disgusted by the maggots than she does by me. At least THAT'S something."
He scrunches his face up and glares at the leftmost maggot. As Tiknesr does so his right eye bulges briefly, bloodshot, as though it wanted to jump clear out of his head and smack the maggot.
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"Yucky!" Fidget squeaks as the monstrous maggots spill out of the spider's guts. She girds her tiny loins and scurries up to Nat's side, then takes a slash at the remaining maggot.
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Ruarc moves into swift motion when he sees the maggots emerge from the dead spider. He swings his long black blade at the remaining maggot, hoping to chop it in half before it can harm anyone. He aims for the small gash Fidget's blade opened, and slices it wide open, killing the worm as it falls into two pieces.
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As the Crusaders relax after the brief struggle and regroup, they see two tunnels leading out of the massive cavern.
"Well at least you're not total f&+~ ups..." Horgus begrudgingly admits. "But even I could have killed a couple of worms. We'll see how useful you are when we find our first demon."
"Oh, hush, Horgus!" Aneiva says, "That was awesome guys! Good work. Which way do you think we should go next?" She then explains quietly to Aravashnial what just happened and their two ways forward.
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Maggots dead, Nat relaxes his pose and sheathes his blade. "Batarr, well struck." Turning around to the group, he steps forward close to Horgus. He studies his face and figure, before looking into his eyes and speaking earnestly. "It's a pity your fear is making you lash out at your best chance of escape; I mean, I understand that. I'm scared too. Just... eh." The youth shrugs for a second and gives an awkward smile before extending his hand. "Nathaniel Dorinaril, at your service; I'd like to get us all out of here, I'd like us all out to help each other in getting out of here. Could you help? We're going to need every set of eyes and hands."
Valeria moves over to the maggot and removes it from the things body. It is covered in the things ichor, but once it is fully removed, she sighs at the unfortunate sight if a shattered arrow shaft near the arrowhead, which remained missing. She cast the ruined arrow aside and scanned the room. She walks over and looks down each passage as far as she can without leaving the main chamber.
"Yeah...sure..." Horgus says sarcastically, ignoring the boy's offered handshake.
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This smaller cavern appears to have once served as a campsite or temporary lair. A torn bedroll lies next to the cold remains of a fire. A pile of bones, broken equipment, and rubble lies just past the campsite.
A stone ledge juts out at a right angle on the south wall of this cavern, fourteen feet off the ground. The leather strap of a backpack hangs from the edge of the ledge, while above, a narrow fissure yawns up in to the dark.
The combat over almost before it's begun, Tiknesr stares for a moment at the maggots and spider, and then looks over the people he finds himself stuck with. Horgus is a pr!%k but he's right I'm afraid; the next battle won't be this easy. Oh deary deary dear. What have I gotten myself into?
Deciding to see if he can make an ally somewhere in this mess, he walks up and says "Well, I'll shake your hand, Nathaniel," holding out his own soft paw. "Tiknesr Th'th'th'th'slifp. I've just arrived yesterday from Cassomir, to pledge myself to the crusades. And did I hear you call your friend there Bart? I'd like to hear more about him -- I have a suspicion as to what he might be -- but we should probably talk while we walk."
Pointing to the backpack, he says "First though, that looks rather enticing but I'm afraid I'm a terrible climber...and my arms certainly won't reach. Are any of you better endowed for such matters?"