KC's Age of Worms

Game Master Kobold Catgirl

The cow watches the party judgmentally as they depart for the mighty fortress.

The guard is again standing at the gate, and so is another familiar face: Cymria, the adventurer agent, confidante, and eyes-and-ears of Manzorian. She does a double-take when she notices the party. "Oh, geez! You're back! Sorry, he's off planehopping again. You'll have to wait three weeks for him to get back."

She waits a moment, then grins. "Just kidding. He should be right in his office. I'll lead the way!"

The guard holds up his hands, alarmed. "No, no! He's meeting with those very important guests right now! He mustn't be disturbed!"

"Oh, right. Huh." A finger goes to Cymria's lips. "Maybe I shouldn't let you guys in, then. Buuuut...he did say that your mission was 'top priority'. Aw, what the hell? You only live once. In theory. Follow me!" She waves at someone above, and the gate swings open. Cymria skips inside. "You can tell me how it went on the way."

Carina is on the verge of giving Cymeria a piece of her mind, but manages to get herself under control. "Well... it went better than I thought it would. And worse than I hoped."

"Incidentally, I know for a fact that you can live as many times as your coin purse and resources allow in this line of work. I used to be a tiefling, you know."

"And it was very smart of you to stop doing that. All the tieflings I've fought with were really messed up people."

The group is taken through the courtyard and strange, colorful garden, and into the beautiful central tower. Cymria rushes up to the study, but stops at the door. As they catch up, the adventurers learn why: There are several loud voices coming from inside. Cymria stays very still and makes a half-hearted gesture for Spiny's Six to hang back.

"You're a bunch of cowards!" comes the thundering voice of Manzorian.

"Now, now." This voice is light and cold, unfamiliar. It carries a strong elven accent.

"Really, you're being very difficult, Manzorian." The third voice is husky, but feminine, and the hardest to hear—she alone seems to be keeping her voice down. She places an odd accent on the archmage's name. "We're all doing the best we can, but honestly, it's not the end of the—"

"Jalla," warns the cool elven voice again, but too late.

"NOT THE END OF THE WORLD?" explodes Manzorian. "Of all the STUPIDEST—the—you should know better, Jallarzi Sallavarian!"

"Well, what do you want us to do, Tenser?" 'Jallarzi' snaps. "Mordenkainen and Bigby have made up their minds, Bucknard and Drawmij are still missing, Otiluke is dead, Rary turned traitor, you refuse to rejoin the Circle—"

"We're the only ones who seem to still talk to you," says the elven-accented voice, "and we're the newbies. Kind of sad, isn't it? Funny how refusing to be a part of this wheel doesn't keep it from turning."

"The Circle of Eight is a worthless, idiotic doctrine of amorality run by a sociopathic—"

"Whoop!" says Cymria as she opens the door. "Spiny's Six is here, sir! Or is it Spiny's Five, plus the new guy? She glances back at the party, frowning. "Or Spiny's Six, minus that summoner guy, plus the new guy?"

The long, airy study has a high ceiling and generous adornments. A deep blue carpet covers much of the floor. The walls are thoroughly covered by a wide range of paintings, each depicting a different exotic locale or dangerous region. The paintings are rendered with extraordinary skill, and seem almost like windows looking out on remote locations around the world. Several overstuffed chairs sit throughout the room,and at the far end looms a massive antique wooden desk, its surface a tangle of scrolls, books, statuettes, stone tablets, quills, vials of ink, and an expensive dragonchess set, its pieces arrayed in mid-game.

Three figures sit at the desk. Manzorian sits behind it. A woman in her 40s with immaculately-styled blond hair and an oddly familiar red pseudodragon on her shoulder sits on the other side, next to a middle-aged brown-skinned elf with, unusually, a dark braided beard.

~ Eben! ~ the pseudodragon mentally exclaims, leaping off of the woman's shoulders and flying towards the bard for a four-legged facehug.

"The 'new guy' is actually the original owner of Spiny, he just had a bad case of death until recently." Farrukh corrects.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (17) + 15 = 32

Carina waits for Cymeria's go ahead before entering the conversation. Although she can't help but sympathize with her wish to eavesdrop.

Not that she NEEDS to--the loud conversation would be very difficult to not overhear, anyway.

"Ladies and gentlemen." She offers a quick curtsy before stepping into the room. "Manzorian, sir, we've successfully returned from the Spire of Long Shadows."

"Oh, interesting. I read that series of articles about you guys, but they didn't mention Spiny had an original owner."

"Well, he did. And that man is standing before you--a bit changed, true but--"

Carina blinks. "Wait. What articles?"

[dice=Sense Motive]1d20+15

Carina waits for Cymeria's go ahead before entering the conversation. Although she can't help but sympathize with her wish to eavesdrop.

Not that she NEEDS to--the loud conversation would be very difficult to not overhear, anyway.

"Ladies and gentlemen." She offers a quick curtsy before stepping into the room. "Manzorian, sir, we've successfully returned from the Spire of Long Shadows."

Manzorian's jaw clenches, and he shoots Cymria an irritated look. Cymria just shrugs.

Then he sighs and nods, flicking his hand to either side. "Spiny's Six, Circle of Eight. Circle of Eight, Spiny's Six. I trust I don't have to introduce all of you."

"Charmed," the woman says. "I am Jallarzi Sallavarian, and this is Theodain Eriason." The elf next to her gives a patronizing smirk. "And that's Edwina, who is my familiar."

~ And technically a part of you! ~ Edwina chimes in. ~ And therefore technically a part of the Circle as well! ~

"Mm. We're actually just two members of the Circle, but who's counting?"

"Well, he did. And that man is standing before you--a bit changed, true but--"

Carina blinks. "Wait. What articles?"

"Oh, they're in the Greyhawk City Times!" Cymria chirps. "I think they were first published in Gladiator, but nobody's been reading that tabloid since it started with its pro-Raknian conspiracy theories. Anyways, I'm pretty sure one of your old friends wrote the articles. He was a gladiator, too? Some sort of outsider?"

Carina's heart flutters like a carefree bird while her stomach sinks like a catapult stone.

"Ah. Indeed, he was. Rodrigo did just as much to help us win the Champion's Games as the rest of the team." She chuckles, trying to hide her blue blush.

And I swear, if he published everything about what happened during them, I'm going to kick his ass the next time I see him.

"Anyway... we were able to discover several pieces of information that Bucknard sought." She clears her throat and looks around for a place to sit; she doesn't do so unless invited, however.

"Lawn orn---I mean, Edwina! Hi!" Eben does his best to return the hug to the dragon wrapped around his face, but since it's kind of just like hugging your own face it looks more than a little awkward. "Wow, when we un-petrified you, we didn't know your mistress was part of the circle! I mean, we totally would have played that for what it was worth at the time... But good to see you!"

Edwina jumps off Eben's face and lands on Astraden's shoulder with a bubbly giggle. ~ It's good to see you, too! And Astraden, of course! ~

"So you're the pair who got her un-petrified." Jallarzi is smiling now. "I never thought I'd see her again after the beholder ambush. I owe you two a great debt."

Carina's heart flutters like a carefree bird while her stomach sinks like a catapult stone.

"Ah. Indeed, he was. Rodrigo did just as much to help us win the Champion's Games as the rest of the team." She chuckles, trying to hide her blue blush.

And I swear, if he published everything about what happened during them, I'm going to kick his ass the next time I see him.

"Anyway... we were able to discover several pieces of information that Bucknard sought." She clears her throat and looks around for a place to sit; she doesn't do so unless invited, however.

"No, not Rodrigo..." Cymria frowns, then brightens. "Oh, right! I think his name was Korush!"

Carina can't help but chuckle at the sight of Eben and the pseudodragon hugging. Or rather, the pseudodragon hugging Eben's face.

"Anyways..." She clears her throat. "...as it turns out, we weren't the first visitors to the Spire. Some time before we arrived, a troop of eladrin fought the Spire's denizens and erected a magical barrier to keep them from escaping their realm. But what's more concerning is this..."

"...we learned that Kyuss was once a mortal king, and that now he is imprisoned in the large stone monument that once stood atop the Spire. A great red dragon stole it away for some purpose... and we learned the wyrm's name."

"Dragotha the Mighty."

Carina Viera wrote:

Carina's heart flutters like a carefree bird while her stomach sinks like a catapult stone.

"Ah. Indeed, he was. Rodrigo did just as much to help us win the Champion's Games as the rest of the team." She chuckles, trying to hide her blue blush.

And I swear, if he published everything about what happened during them, I'm going to kick his ass the next time I see him.

"Anyway... we were able to discover several pieces of information that Bucknard sought." She clears her throat and looks around for a place to sit; she doesn't do so unless invited, however.

"No, not Rodrigo..." Cymria frowns, then brightens. "Oh, right! I think his name was Korush!"

Carina blinks.

Oh!

"Really? Well, I hope we made a good impression on him--he and his team were skilled opponents." Carina giggles.

Alright. Maybe Rodrigo's innocent, then.

"Yeah! Glad to see my buddy Korush is doing well still. Everybody else loves him too."

Tanith groans.

"Also worth noting that Bucknard's investigations led him to the same information, and apparently hearing Dragotha was the monolith thief caused him to immediately leave Kuluth-Mar for parts unknown. Maybe he was hunting her down too. Since you mentioned he was still missing..." He nods to Jallarzi, "It's likely that's a clue to his current whereabouts. Sorry, I know that was from before we came in, but we couldn't help but overhear." He shrugs. "It's why I'm glad Cymria brought us in when she did. Eavesdropping is never fun." He looks directly at Manzorian with a smile. "Things were getting kind of tense, sir."

Farrukh snorts at that last bit.

"Also, because Astraden will get mad if we don't ask, do you have any way to track down a Lich's phylactery easily? The guy that trained Kyuss is still kicking around in Kuluth-Mar."

"Sorry, I could help but overhear, but I didn't. Did they call you Tenser, Manzorian? Is that an insult? Like, 'Yeah you're so involved in the affairs of mortals, what a Tenser!'" Astraden clearly doesn't believe this theory.

The priestess turns to the other wizards. "I'm Astraden, by the way. And what, you're in the Circle of Eight? How come I've never heard of Eriason's instant summons or Sallavarian's grasping hand?"

Once what passes for introductions are over, Astraden nods. "Obviously, a lich's phylactery is going to have the most powerful anti-scrying spells available cast upon it. Stuff that I probably couldn't penetrate. But since we have an archmage right in front of us - got any tips?"

"Careful Astraden, he could probably take you in a fistfight."

Manzorian looks at Astraden. His arms tighten, and behind the desk it is clear that his fists are clenching. He gives a short twitch of his head. "Jallarzi. Theodain. Edwina. Always a pleasure."

"Oh, yes." Theodain gives a tight smile, surveying the group with a collector's eye. "And a pleasure to meet the adventurers who are trying to put this to rights. In between showboating at cute little tournaments, of course." He gives his hand a little wave. "As my people say: Adios." With a flash, the elf vanishes.

Cuetzpalli feels something invisible bump into him in the doorway. Jallarzi rolls her eyes and curtsies to the group. "You can't actually teleport in or out of this mansion without dealing with the wards, but Theodain always has to make an exit. Anyways, it certainly is a pleasure. I just want to say: Good luck. We're all counting on you." She turns and strides out of the room, closing the door behind her—'accidentally' stopping Cymria as the adventurer attempts to enter last.

Manzorian grimaces and waits a few moments for the three visitors to leave. Then he leans over and fixes Astraden with a deathly glare. "As far as the world is concerned, Rary killed Tenser, Robilar killed his clones, and the creator of the floating disk is gone from Oerth. I have too many enemies to leave the protection of the Circle of Eight under my own identity. But...yes, I am Tenser." He chews on his upper lip. "You now know a secret many would kill for, though I don't suppose it is that important to you in the current context. You must tell me everything."

~~~~~~~~

Manzorian/Tenser probes the party for close to an hour, seeking a full account—even on tangential matters, such as the beholder and Cuauhtémoc. Oddly, he takes particular interest in a subject that had been mostly written off by the party: the ramblings of Sruggut. He asks question after question about the worm naga, and his interest in its existence is second only to that of the Harbinger's.

"We have, of course, done research of our own," he says at last. "Choosing to leave the Harbinger alive was...unwise, in my opinion, though perhaps caution was sensible. It seems likely to me that the phylactery was also trapped in the ziggurat. Those visions of the knights imply to me that the phylactery was stolen, perhaps damaged, but they also seemed to imply that it was successfully retrieved and brought back to the Harbinger.

"In my experience, there is quite literally nothing more dangerous than an archmage with time, mobility, and information—and the spell weaver's telepathy likely ensures constant contact with just about anyone it chooses. I only hope that the lich's chance to escape does not ever come."

He sighs and rubs his forehead. "The other information you bring me, however, is more welcome. We had hit something of a dry spot, you see, and our probes grew...less cautious. We began to extend our tendrils to the wider sphere, seeking any scrap of information about Bucknard's whereabouts. It is something I would have done much sooner, had I...had the time." Tenser looks pained. "Unfortunately, we were met with little success.

"Two months ago, while performing his investigations on your behalf, Eligos heard from a woman who claimed to be a friend of Bucknard's. At the time, he dismissed her claims after only a cursory investigation, and rightly so. You see, she spoke of something called the Order of the Storm—an organization that did not exist. Eligos is the finest loremaster I know, and he did not find one. Drop. Of evidence." Manzorian pounds the table with surprising fervor to punctuate his words. "It was a fairy tale. A conspiracy theory. A ploy from someone seeking Eligos's trust and, most likely, money.

"But now you, Carina...you speak of magic meant to erase knowledge. Meant to erase an event from history. And now, I think, I begin to understand why finding information on Kyuss's past has been so very difficult."

The priestess turns to the other wizards. "I'm Astraden, by the way. And what, you're in the Circle of Eight? How come I've never heard of Eriason's instant summons or Sallavarian's grasping hand?"

Once what passes for introductions are over, Astraden nods. "Obviously, a lich's phylactery is going to have the most powerful anti-scrying spells available cast upon it. Stuff that I probably couldn't penetrate. But since we have an archmage right in front of us - got any tips?"

There's a lot to get through here, and I'm trying not to textwall you guys even more, so I'll respond to this stuff here.

"We don't all name spells after ourselves," Theodain says, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Some of us have better things to do."

"Also, he's new," Jallarzi says, gesturing to him. "I created vortex of teeth, but we all pretty much agree that that was a horrible mistake."

After they leave:

With regards to the phylactery, Manzorian nods. "A lich's phylactery can be easily warded against most scrying effects when they are a wizard, but sorcerers...are less likely to have access to such spells. And most spell weavers are sorcerers. The phylactery could be vulnerable, but it would be as hard to scry as the lich itself. You might have more luck than I would, since you have actually met the creature."

The realization that the party is currently in the employ of one of the most powerful mages to ever walk Oerth is an eye-opening (and humbling) experience for Carina. She offers as much information as she can to Manzorian/Tenser, mostly out of recognizing the dire circumstances they're in, but also with a hint of starstruck glee (or, perhaps, raw fright).

"But now you, Carina...you speak of magic meant to erase knowledge. Meant to erase an event from history. And now, I think, I begin to understand why finding information on Kyuss's past has been so very difficult."

"Really?" The undine alchemist's eyebrow arches to the ceiling and she scratches her head in confusion. "I thought it was just a theory, to be honest..."

"There is a hole in Dragotha's existence," Manzorian says, shaking his head. "We looked into her past as the consort of Tiamat. At a certain point, she departed for the distant south, and then...nothing. No records exist of Dragotha's activities since then, aside from vague allusions to, as you saw on the map, lichdom." His brow furrows. "Meanwhile, this Order of the Storm has been invoked in two sources alone—this woman contacting us, and Bucknard's journal, though Eligos didn't know of the latter at the time.

"Between all this, and the thrice-coincidental invocation of a 'storm' ... I think it might be wise to follow up with Bucknard's self-proclaimed 'friend'."

"It seems that the threads are starting to come together. I'm glad you guys are around, I would have never figured this out in a million years."

Astraden's reaction is a little less awed than Carina's. "So this explains why you had all this treasure, and why you have the castle . . . and why an archmage of your stature doesn't have any spells named after him. 'Cause you never seemed like the type to abstain from naming something after yourself. Maybe Jallarzi is, but I'd never heard of that spell she named before, so she could just be b+@*&@#$ting."

"And actually, I'm surprised you agree with me about the phylactery. I'll see what my own scrying can do, then. Uh, tomorrow probably. I know the day's still early but I think we need some time to, at the least, take a dip in the lake and wash our clothes." Astraden taps Marka's old rapier. "Actually, we haven't even identified all the loot we got from the ziggurat."

"With regards to this friend of Bucknard - where is she? And how does this 'Rift Canyon' relate to Kyuss?"

"We're glad you're around too, Cuetzpalli." Astraden smiles, though there's a hint of guardedness there.

Tenser winces. "I wish she hadn't mentioned vortex of teeth. It is...a deeply stupid spell, and she knows it."

"And actually, I'm surprised you agree with me about the phylactery."

"And why is that? I despise loose ends."

"With regards to this friend of Bucknard - where is she? And how does this 'Rift Canyon' relate to Kyuss?"

"Her name is Lashonna. I understand she's an influential figure where she's from—a small citystate of sorts called Alhaster. Alhaster stands on the far side of the Nyr Dyv, directly between us and the Rift Canyon, actually.

"The Rift Canyon is a great crevasse to the north, and the center of the cliff dwellers' civilization. As I understand it, not far from the Rift Canyon is a smaller chasm known as the Wormcrawl Fissure." Tenser's eyes narrow. He raises his hand, and a full glass of red wine appears in it.

"Inside the Wormcrawl Fissure, according to Celeste's best guess, lies the lair of Dragotha itself."

Eben spends a moment being inordinately pleased with himself over his cunning deduction of Manzorian's identity, and his subsequent injecting that knowledge into conversation via cunning wordplay. Then Astraden speaks and just blurts the whole thing out.

Wincing, sighing, and pinching the bridge of his nose, he follows through by saying, "Iuz's wrinkled balls, Astraden, sometimes you have all the subtlety of a sack of Carina's bombs tied to the snout of a charging rhinoceros..."

To Manzoria, he replies on a few topics. "It's very likely we'll take a trip back to Kuluth-Mar at some point to take the Harbinger off the table for good. But that's something we'd probably want to specially prep for with as many situational anti-undead spells as we can manage, instead of just going after it when it was ready for us. Plus having to phylactery-hunt after."

Tenser raises an eyebrow. "How did you not already bring situational anti-undead spells? Were you...unclear on the details?"

"Wait . . . 'deeply stupid spell.' That rings a bell." Astraden looks at Eben. "That's the thing you did with the shadow puppet trick, wasn't it?"

Spellcraft: 10 + 15 = 25

Astraden smirks a little as she "gets the reference."

"Huh, I think I get what you're saying. So we can stop in Alhaster, ask Lashonna about this Order of Storms, and then continue straight on to the Wormcrawl Fissure. Find Kyuss' monolith, destroy it somehow, and that's the end of the Age of Worms?"

"...so it took us this long to come to the conclusion that a place called the Wormcrawl Fissure might have something to do with Kyuss?"

Taking 10 on Spellcraft for 21!

Carina purses her lips, but gets a twinkle in her eye as she recognizes the spell Manzorian used.

She's about to speak up, but something Eben says derails her train of thought...

"Iuz's wrinkled balls, Astraden, sometimes you have all the subtlety of a sack of Carina's bombs tied to the snout of a charging rhinoceros..."

...which might make for a badass siege weapon, come to think of it.

If remarkably impractical. And cruel to the poor rhino.

"No, my shadow spell was imitating something called 'swarm of fangs'. I dunno, a vortex of teeth sounds even cooler." And to Manzorian, "We did have anti-undead spells, but we had to balance them out with other stuff. But now that the Harbinger (and I guess a bunch of worm naga, but they seem to know better than attack us anymore) is the only thing left down there, we can just load up on stuff like invisibility to undead so it won't immediately know we're coming as soon as we enter the ruins, we can all have disruption going on weapons, stuff like that."

"Huh, I think I get what you're saying. So we can stop in Alhaster, ask Lashonna about this Order of Storms, and then continue straight on to the Wormcrawl Fissure. Find Kyuss' monolith, destroy it somehow, and that's the end of the Age of Worms?"

Carina sighs. "Somehow, I doubt it's going to be that simple..."

"Yeah, we can even teleport right into his room, since I've actually seen it! Though, I just remembered something you mentioned, Manzorian, and it makes me somewhat nervous - we knew the Harbinger had telepathy, but are you saying he can contact people outside of the ring with it?"

"...so it took us this long to come to the conclusion that a place called the Wormcrawl Fissure might have something to do with Kyuss?"

"Don't be ridiculous. We've known that Kyuss was associated with that fissure for years." Tenser shrugs. "It's where the spawn come from."

"Yeah, we can even teleport right into his room, since I've actually seen it! Though, I just remembered something you mentioned, Manzorian, and it makes me somewhat nervous - we knew the Harbinger had telepathy, but are you saying he can contact people outside of the ring with it?"

"The telepathy of a spell weaver has a range of roughly one thousand miles."

"Ah, s%$+."

"That means anyone who the Harbinger counts as an ally is going to have a nice big warning before we get to them, AND the Harbinger can call in help to defend itself before the next time we go down there. Farrukh, how far is it from Kuluth-Mar to the Wormcrawl Fissure?

It's considerably more than a thousand miles.

"So, what do spell weavers do, exactly? Mental magic like Dominate and stuff?"

Astraden leans over to Eben while Farrukh asks his question, having sat down in Theodain's chair once Manzorian started grilling the party. "Hey, I've gotten an idea for a valuable spell, but I think I need your expertise with speech-based magic. You up for hitting the library later?"

"Well, I don't know anything about actually making magic, but I can give it a go..."

"Cool, cool. I'll handle the part about making the spell, I just need some guidance with shaping the language. Maybe I could even have you come up with some prototype lines to seed its sense of humor. We'll talk more about it later." Astraden refocuses on the meeting.

"Spell weaver magic focuses on attacks, defense, and transportation, actually—they favor evocation and conjuration spells. They have one particularly deadly ability, however: They can use their many arms to weave together multiple spells at once. Similar to that rod Eben bears," Tenser gestures to the bard, "but a standard spell weaver can cast as many as six spells in the time a normal mage could manage six. This makes them ... exceptionally dangerous, though they do have to weaken the individual spells to do this.

For instance, a spell weaver could cast six magic missiles simultaneously, but only two fireballs."

"Then where does the telepathy fit in? Seems a bit off-theme? Can they use it to target their evocations better or something?"

"The telepathy is innate. It is simply how they communicate. Their minds are too alien to fit within the normal confines of human speech."

"Six magic missile spells is still quite a punch. Like, that's at least a score of missiles all fired at once. Quite a dangerous monster considering that a creature of such power isn't going to run out of spells any time quick. Although, maybe that's something we can work around? We could go down there, make like we're going to break into its room and attack, get it to start casting protective spells, and then just teleport away. Maybe leave some summoned monsters to continue f~#~ing it up. Come back an hour later and have a real fight. If it is actually a sorcerer there's a chance we can outsmart it."

"Be careful about such assumptions—spell weavers are far from foolish. In fact, they tend to be more intelligent than they are charismatic. It is their affinity for magic items that defines their magical ... style."

"Oh, I was more referring to it using arcane magic than any particular discipline thereof," Astraden says with a wink.

Tenser gives a little corner-mouth smile. "I've heard it said that it is easier to outsmart a clever man than a fool. Literally, that's obviously absurd, but there may be a grain of wisdom in it."

"For now," Tenser says, clearing his throat, "I highly recommend you rest and recover from your ordeal. I do not think you will have another opportunity: The race to the end is beginning to tighten.

"But Raknian did not succeed. And now, word from my investigations has it that the Hierophant, a powerful and mysterious Vecnan priest, has slain Loris Raknian. Perhaps the prophecy was, indeed, wrong, a staggering fact if true."