The Torture Chamber (Everquest RPG PBP)

Game Master Xenh

Kwen smacks the cleric lightly on the shoulder then says " What if I don't die with you all, you all would just get lost on the path back to life without me. 'Sides it's not like I have anything better to do anyway, I'll still have Karmithdor showing up sooner or later in the next town I stop in at. I've killed him more times then I can recall, and still he keeps showing up, more then likely he is an agent of the enemy, herding me along a path I care not for." Kwen whisper back, trusting his fate with the party's.
" Now for the city, I can think of many things that we can do for it. Of course the unsavory elements I'll deal with, unless they are not willing to work with me. Perhaps getting some funding from churches that wish to be built in the city walls, of course I think it should have a port, that way we can get some ships coming and going. There is good coin to be had in having a working dock, if not then we should make sure it is close to a travel route. Caravans will bring people and much needed coin to the city, if there is a guild that I can get more information from, I'll start learning the best ways to keep a city funded and to bring travelers in, and keep them there. " The rogue says with a sly smile, already thinking about the things he could do and the possibilities.
" Also if we can get a few spell casters to throw themselves into the mix, having the ability to hire out teleports couldn't hurt. Oo! Having a 'renowned' gnome inventor could bring us more business as well however, what other ideas does everyone have?" Kwen finishes for the moment.

"Definitely a port, and perhaps even an island. The oceans are the biggest road of all, and they go everywhere. However, any place worth living at is going to either be occupied or have a reason why it isn't. For example, those islands north of Kunark, the Broken Teeth? We'd have to clear out ogres to begin with, and they're close enough to the mainland that we'd also have to set up defenses against the iksar. However, as we know, Cabilis is rather busy with the elves of Firiona Vie; so maybe this is just the right time for it."

Revery attempts a handwriting analysis of Swenj's writings (sense motive with a significant negative modifier, success). He does not discern any deception from the writings, which are consistent with themselves. Swenj appears to be a self-serving man who painted himself in a corner, and is only doing good because it suits his ends. Revery is confident that the group can trust the dead wizard, liking him is a totally different thing.

The gnome playfully punches Kwen in the hip and nods that their town will be useless without an inventor of no small renown.

Nogglegrop is quiet for a moment, as he attempts to come to terms with what is coming. The group had faced death together and apart countless times, but there was always a chance. This rationale for this seemingly unbeatable encounter was twofold:

After hugging Lithia fiercely, clasping Raji's arm and nuzzling Bast's face, Sajeek watches the three depart until they are out of sight. He stands, arms crossed as they walk. His tail twitches back and forth and his ears lay halfway down. Emotions whirling, the vah shir rubs his face and sighs deeply. He was glad he got to see them before... Shaking his head he turns back to the others.

Listening to the conversation that had started up, the vah shir thinks about what was said concerning shipping routes and caravans.

"Well, how about we try to find some place along the coast line? We might have to talk to some caravan leaders or ship captains so that they know where to stop," Sajeek thinks for a few moments. "I think islands are kinda of a mixed bag. It could be more defensible, but much more dependent on shipping for supplies. Plus, less land for hunting. Or farming. And speaking of the islands near Kurnak, I'd rather not call home that close to the faithful of who we have pissed off. That's just me." Sajeek says with a forced chuckle.

"I guess we will have to sit down and start looking over maps of Norrath," Sajeek muses out loud. He blinks a few times and scratches behind his right ear. "If we get the chance," he mutters under his breath.

"We are thinking of an open city, correct? A place were any are welcome? So long as they follow some basic rules, of course. No killing, raping, robbing, slavery, forcible religious conversions or eating of other races. Things like that," the vah shir grins a bit as he looks at his friends. Sajeek's emerald gaze lingers on Kwen for a moment or two as he rubs the white clawprint on his arm.

Revery barely hears the talk of the Great New City being planned. He knows it will never come that way. The very best case would be that the group somehow survive, built a keep somewhere, and attract farmers, trades and trade. It sounds like a lot of work, but he doesn't want to say anything against it, at the moment.

His mind is on the end of the world, the Shissar, the writings of the madman Swenj. He looks over all the notes to see if there are any that have not been decoded. He reviews all the words, holding the original papers up so the light shines through. He wonders how they are supposed to convince this Avatar that the girl is worth saving; that she may be able to save the world. Surely even Cazic-Thule would want that?

He writes a note to Arwen, and puts it next to his spellbook. It says goodbye, and sorry, and other mushy stuff. He sincerely hopes he will be able to burn it with his own hands, soon.

He prays to Quellious for guidance. He is almost expecting an answer this time. Funny, he never has before.

Kwen rubs his hip in mock pain, then falls silent wondering if perhaps he might survive this encounter with the Avatar of Fear and perhaps even the trip to meet a god. Giving a snort at the odds that the party would, the chances were still slim. Taking a drink of water from his water skin he gives a small sigh; On one hand there would be no one that Kwen could write a good bye note in, or even the chances that someone would find said note.
Finally sick of sitting around waiting for the possible end to come, Kwen pulls out a few daggers and starts juggling with them managing to say " Yes looking at maps when we get back would be for the best, we shall have to look into the cost of buildings what taxes that we would have to charge. Yes Sajeek I agree on the rules that we would have to make, allowing all to stay as long as they followed the no killing, raping, robbing, slavery, forcible religious conversions, or eating of other races. Those are good rules to have for a city indeed."

DEX check for juggling the daggers
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13

Kwen's focus on the daggers isn't the best but he manages to keep two daggers up in the air for a bit of time before tiring of his lack of ability and puts them back into his bandoleer.

Gwendalyn nods thoughtfully at Sajeek's objection to the Broken Teeth. "Good point. How about the southern coast of Faydwer, on the Loping Plains? If it's just a matter of killing gnolls, I could do that all day long. As for how open our city should be, I want it to be more accepting than Erudin of course, but I don't want another Freeport Militia either; I definitely want rules in place to prevent anyone else from becoming a law unto themselves."

She sees Revery writing a note, and can't imagine what she would say. "To my family: I hope this finds you well. We killed a mountain giant, but now we're going to face the Avatar of Fear. (We pissed off Cazic-Thule. Don't ask.) If you're reading this, then I didn't survive. Love you bunches!" A fleeting smile chases across her face at the silly thought.

Revery finds nothing new in the papers, or talking to his goddess.

Nogglegrop snaps his fingers, remembering something he had purchased in Freeport and had completely forgotten about, and leaves the others to wonder what he tearing his small backpack apart for.

The gnome slams down a large tattered chunk of vellum rolled into a tube, and folded twice upon itself. Excitedly unravelling it your cleric reveals:

Map of Norrath

He sits on his helm and scratches his chin, surprised that anything could distract him, and muses, "The distance from Qeynos to the bridge we met the guards at does not look that far on the map..."

Getting into the conversation, after throwing a small rock at Revery to get out of his head and interact with the others, he says, "I would only have one rule that runs the city and that is respect for self, others and property. Those that follow that singular rule will be welcome."

Kwen's attempt to juggle is more like throwing knives in the air and hoping no one gets stabbed when he fumbles to catch them.

Nogglegrop adds, "Faydwer sounds good, since it benefits none of us directly as long as no one pays attention to Kwen's sinister half."

"What me sinister? You lie, I'm the beacon of purity, I'll have you know." Kwen says than moves closer, after making sure his dagger's were secure in there sheaths, looking over the map his eyes searching over the map one place is as good as another

Trying to ignore Bast's absence, Sajeek leans over the map. Gwen had mention the coast of the Loping Plains. Emerald eyes pouring over the map, the vah shir finds them on the map. He notes it happens to be on the continent of Feydwar. Still, the location looked good, from a map anyway. Plenty of hunting and farming land, room to expand if needed. Just a matter of dealing with the local predators and carving out a safe spot.

"Way to remember the map Noggy," Sajeek chuckles as he looks back at his friends. "I think Gwen hit the nail on the head. The coast of the Loping Plains looks pretty nice. Lot's of land, and looks open enough for some trade routes." The vah shir pauses for a few moments, glancing back at the map. He tugs at his left ear. "Just a matter of carving out a safe spot from the local monsters and bandits. Should be easy-peasy." Sajeek says with a laugh.

"Well, I like the idea of Freeport's openness, just not the practices of the Militia there," the young Beastlord says after a bit more thought. "I think if we build a place with what Noggy said as it's core pillar, that is a fine start." Sajeek pauses, glances at the others. "I mean, I'm sure it will be a bit trickier then that," he says with a laugh.

Words sometimes say more than the speaker had intended and that is the case here.

Nogglegrop had revealed much when he had spoken of Faydwer benefitting no one directly, since that was the continent of his people. He was welcome back into the bowels of the Steamfont Mountains, where the strange city of Ak'Anon was located, but far from being received with open arms.

The gnome's storm grey eyes sparkle with purpose as he implores the others to feel his conviction, "We must survive this latest trial to carve out a place of refuge for the women that were displaced by Swenj's cruelty. Many are homeless now, but we have the means to contact them all..." He leaves the through to linger in everyone's minds.

As an afterthought Nogglegrop throws out something completely afield from what he had just said, "After meeting the sea dragon Faydedar, much closer than I am comfortable with, I am unsure if I would ever feel safe being part of a port city. How could we protect ourselves from the denizens of the deep - or stop vessels from Kunark from landing on our docks?"

As each of you pool what you know of Faydwer you come up with the following:

Faydwer
The second most populated continent after Antonica, Faydwer holds the home cities (Ak'Anon: Gnomes, Felwithe: High Elves, Kaladim: Dwarves, Kelethin: Wood Elves / Half Elves) of several races among forests that stretch on for days. In the depths of the forested continent, orcs, gnolls, goblins, and even more dangerous predators run loose.

The Loping Plains
Fleeting Clan gnolls stray across this plain, showing more coyote in their features than wolf. They wear light armour, move in packs and can run nearly as fast as a horse. Anyone on foot, even with the aid of magic, has little chance of outrunning them. The only solace victims might find in the arrangement is that they can see the gnolls approaching from miles away and prepare for the assault. Should The Loping Plains be your destination of choice, you will want to all be equipped with long-ranged weaponry.

Ranthok's Ridge
Legend says that a dwarf king named Ranthok had build up the long ridge, which later became known as Ranthok's Ridge, as a protective wall for the elves in the Lesser Faydark. The earthworks run nearly half the continent, and it took the entire lifespan of some dwarves to see its completion (with the help of some earth elementals). What exactly the king received in exchange for this extraordinary feat is lost, but the general feeling is that the dwarves were never properly compensated for their enormous task.

Wayunder Lake
Little is known about Wayunder Lake. Many have come here for the abundant fishing that is found off its pristine shores. Rumours tell of an encampment of sorts to the north that is occupied by an elven noble. Some even say that the elf is a prince.

Thoughts of Kelethin remind you of what is at stake in this upcoming encounter:

The treetop city of Kelethin is where you will find the transformed Rahn in Justis flesh, should you be able to set Swenj's innocent daughter free of Cazic-Thule's curse. It was far from a comforting task, but you can justify it by the knowledge that Justis is dead either way.

Gwendalyn grins at Kwen's protestations of innocence; she knows as well as anyone what he's done. "Perhaps he meant that your left side is more elvish," she quips, looking at the tips of the half-elf's ears as if comparing their lengths.

She looks at the map. "Well, what about the shore of Wayunder Lake, up by the Ridge? If we start a barge service from a landing near the coast, then travelers and merchants could still reach us fairly easily -- but not armies, let alone navies." She pauses. "Of course, the more business we get, the busier the docks would be, the more likely that it would grow into a city of its own that could tax our trade; but in a sense, that would just be the price of paying someone else to take the risk of dragons, iksar, and other mauraders."

She looks at Kelethin on the map and sighs, knowing that if they succeed, they will have to face the result -- and Justis will no longer be herself.

"This is all fascinating talk, and indeed, it does tickle my rationality to think of a land of our own, where we make the rules, few as they are, and where any who follow them are accepted. But the key to any such endeavour will be the finances. Not just lots of money, we'll need that, but we need models of trade that will both attract business and generate the cash, without making it seem that we are unfairly taxing anyone. "

Revery seems suddenly interested in trade. In truth, he learned the basics of economics in school, and some practical accounting as he apprenticed to be a jeweler running his own shop. But those subjects were never his interest. He found the numbers side of these things very simple, though he realized there were more difficult aspects to it - predicting the economic behavior of the masses is very difficult, and small events can have large effects on the market over short or long terms.

"Perhaps tax-collecting Trolls are what we will need. I propose we accept all ideas as possibilities, and we'll decide them as necessary."

" Hm using trolls as tax collectors, clever to say the least. I'm sure I can train a crew to help the collectors out, if people are unwilling to pay that is. Gwen of course the left side of me is more elvish, that is why I got rid of the tip of my ear... it was holding me back with the earful of elvish answers." The half-elf jokes, feeling for a moment the knife that had started to slice into his ear.
The person removing it wanted the whole ear and Kwen had buried his kurki blade into the offender's eye. Every now and then Kwen had a tingling feeling from that part of his ear, phantom limb, was what the healer had said to him. The body still thinks it's attached but it isn't.
" Taxes are taxing many a man, causing it's heard a heart a tax." the rogue absently says while thinking of the undertaking building and caring for a city.

Nogglegrop gazes at the map for a long time, "Ranthok's Ridge will stop anyone coming from the west and much of the north. The Timorous Deep will halt travel from the south. The Steamfont Mountains will inhibit travel from the west. Beyond the possibility of an elvish noble we would have no one to trade with, unless his holdings are empty, there is trade to be made with the local creatures, a dock can be put up, or we can find a way to lure travellers to our doorstep..."

Map of Faydwer

"Troll tax collector," Sajeek says with a shudder. "Well, that would certainly get people to pay up." The vah shir chuckles. "Keeping them from eating the people their collecting from might be tricky."

Sajeek eyes the areas that Noggy and Gwen had pointed out. Looking at the various landmarks, some place within the plains, or perhaps near the ocean. Although, given their limited time with dragons, he didn't think was overly wild about the ocean. 'Well, we shouldn't write off a port city yet. Although, I don't want risk being a dragon snack.' Sajeek thinks to himself as he tugs on his left ear.

"This might be vaguely important. Aside from elves and some dwarves I think I heard mention, whom all calls that big ol' island home?" the young Beastlord taps the continent of Faydwer on the map. "Is it "pitchfork and torches" kinda place as far as it's cites and peoples go? Or a little more relaxed?" Sajeek asks the others.

" Well what are the odds that a dragon would show up?" Kwen asks then thinks about what Sajeek said then tries to remember what he knows about Faydwer

Each of you thrown what you know into the pool of the group's knowledge (know the descriptions of Faydwer from pages 14-17) and come up with the following.

Knowing a bit about the major races that occupy the continent of Faydwer can help to avoid some unnecessary drama later on.

Character Race Alignments:

Gwendalyn scowls at the map. "Well see here, where it looks like Ranthok's Ridge tapers down toward the sea. A keep built up on the southern tip of the ridge itself would have good visibility and be very defensible, as well as being not too far from the sea for trade with all of Norrath. I just don't know about access to water and food; the southeastern shore of Wayunder Lake wouldn't be as defensible, but it might be better in every other respect." Knowing how the erudites feel about gnomes, she suspects that it would be reciprocated, and Revery might have some trouble in Ak'Anon; but they wouldn't have to actually go there themselves.

They've done a good job of distracting themselves so far, but the mystic can't help glancing up every now and then, expecting every time to see a faceless, four-armed monster.

"So, the Loping Plains, and we either fight the gnolls or organize them? I wonder if it might be better to just kill them, even though the practical part of me suggests an arrangement would be better." Revery ponders a possible future for the group.

"Perhaps we could build a keep on the Ridge, as a lookout and also a remote getaway where we could study or meditate?"

Sajeek gives Kwen a "Are you serious" look, complete with an arched eyebrow. He shakes his head and laughs out loud for several long moments.

"We are being hunted by the actual God of Fear, and we have to try to warn him, or it, of the returning Shissar," Sajeek wipes tears of mirth from his eyes. "I would say, with how our luck tends to run, Faydedar would probably show up wearing a dinner bib and holding a knife and fork."

Emerald eyes seeking the map once more, he looks it over again.

"Hmmm, so the Loping Plains it is," Sajeek says with a nod. He looks up and over at Revery. "Well, I think it might be somewhat easier to at least attempt to see if we can get the gnolls to be at least non threatening to us our a new city, rather then try to wipe out every gnoll in the area." Sajeek tugs his left ear as he thinks. "I don't know much about gnolls, but they might be open to the idea of a city that will actually trade with them. Perhaps in exchange for patrolling around the area. 'Course, that's speculation on my part."

"I do like the idea of a place where people of races whom don't fit in with their own are welcome," the vah shir rubs his chin thoughtfully. "I think back to our lonely friend Fropze. He left his way of life among his people, trying to find something else, only to end up an outcast. He ended up inside a barrel of Ol'Tujim's Fierce Brew and never managed to crawl out." Sajeek shakes his head sadly. "I'm all for getting s&+@ faced and having a good time, but all the time? That's just to cover up a hurt that never healed."

"Given that we are all a bit of an outcast from each of our own peoples, I think everyone can understand that.., hurt," the vah shir says as he looks at his friends. "I think we all understand the feeling of being outsiders at somebody else's party."

"Yes, a buffer zone of baddies may be a useful thing.

Our city of open arms, what shall we call it? Free Port, not to be confused with Freeport? Or perhaps the City of Open Arms? Not to be confused with the City of Open Legs, which, I believe, is an establishment in Freeport (not Free Port). Or what about just Openarms?"

Revery is now getting into it, especially the naming of the place.

If you can trust the selfish wizard's writings: You're now hidden from the Shissar's precognition, when Swenj ripped your flesh you with all those spells that you thought were trying to kill you, which permits you to still seem like you're working towards the Shissar's ends, but betray them to Cazic-Thule, which is something he could not do since the gods would not heed Swenj's calls to advocate for his daughter's soul.

It really is a dangerous position to be in, as you stand between two factions, and is reminiscent of Freeport, but on a cosmic scale.

Nogglegrop stares at the map for a long time. Without looking up he asks, "So our plan is to survive this, explain to a god that there is a threat while requesting the release of a soul, then travel to Faydwer to meet the dwarven prince, explore for potential future holdings, go to Kelethin to meet Rahn after we helped her kill all that was Justis, and then..."

He says it in a way that it is obvious that he is hoping someone sees a loophole so they don't have to kill a child.

Wiping a tear from his cheek, "I say we call it 'Justis' after the bravest person I have ever met."

Sajeek coughs at the mention of Justis. Whatever was getting ready to say chokes and dies in his throat. They were sitting here planning on their big future. Sure, it was a nice distraction from the fact that they were probably about to die screaming. The vah shir goes silent, looking down at the mountain stone. He was planning on trading the soul of the elf Justis for the soul of the daughter of a madman who could see the future. It was possible that Rahn had no answers and this was Swenj's last ditch effort to save his daughter. Or everything he had written in such a detailed code was true. Sajeek shudders.

"Justis is fine," the suddenly somber Beastlord says quietly. Sitting down Sajeek hugs his legs to his chest. "I miss my kitty," he says with a sigh. He rests his chin on his knees and thinks for several minutes.

"I think now is as good as any to include Kwen in our little fun club. Since he is rather fated to be walking with us anyway," Sajeek says. "Seems a shame to be with us and not get a cookie as well." The vah shir rubs the white clawprint that almost gleams in his fur. The vah shir's dervish robe tended to be worn somewhat loosely. Several of the strips of linen always seemed to slide away from the strange mark, leaving it somewhat exposed.

Nogglegrop agrees, "If there is anyway to include Kwen, I agree. Let's just not tell him anything. Follow us Kwen, and if this works out, you will be ecstatic about the results."

They had all sworn a magical oath to keep their mouths shut. It would be a shame to lose the quest now...

" Oh sure now it's follow us, before it was flee if you want to. Figures that possibly being slain changes every thing." Kwen says with a grin on his face. He had smelled the hint of treasure around this group long ago, perhaps it had been when they were learning the lizard tongue.
" Say no more on this, but if there is a lack of treasure, I'll just have to start taking more coin for my cut." Kwen says with a chuckle, trying to hide the thought of naming the city 'Justis'. It still made the rogue feel conflicted, but if the writings could be trusted, then this was the only real choice that the group had.
"I'm not sure that we could work something out with the gnolls, but than again stranger things have happened I'm sure. So I guess after we take care of what we are tasked with, find the thing that you are looking for. THEN start looking for a suitable place to build our city, work around/with the locals, all before tea time right?" The rogue asks, the humor was sprinkled into his words, as the rogue wondered what else was on the group's 'To-Do List'.

A shape tirelessly drifts out of the distance, moving surprisingly slowly for such a massive creature. It is a 4-armed grim reaper, come to rend you limb from limb. Moulded by Cazic-Thule to be an instrument of fear, the massive Avatar of Fear is truly horrific in appearance.

It is perhaps a mile away and the dusk of late evening has fallen, leaving only the gnome and half-elf to truly see the group's death approaching. The others follow their gaze, and then everyone sees the primordial predator cruising toward them.

Gwendalyn stands with her feet braced apart and crosses her arms over her chest. "I've decided that I don't hate gnolls as much as I used to, since at least they don't make me feel small. I might even be able to tolerate dealing with them, as long as I keep on reminding myself that it could be worse, they could be giants." She pauses. "Do you know, sometimes I wish I were the kind of girl to run around screaming in a panic? It's probably very cathartic." She lapses into silence.

" Running away screaming in panic, would be nice right about now. However us being the heroic type, well we don't get to do that since we are 'hero's." Kwen's joke fell flat, having an inkling that this was going to be a very unpleasant day. " So getting drunk right about now would be very nice." The rogue mutters to himself

"I bet it would be, Sajeek says to Gwen with a faint smile. His emerald follows the gaze of Noggy and Kwen. Both had fallen silent and their skin went white. "Doesn't anybody else think that sending a 4 armed, faceless giant to kill us is a bit excessive? No? Just me, huh?" Sajeek says with a forced chuckle.

"I'm glad I got to see my family again before I die," the vah shir says with a sad smile as he stands back up. "And, I am honored to have met all of you." Sajeek says, nodding to each of his friends as looks at them in turn.

Tightening his clawed handwraps, Sajeek looks in the direction of the approaching Avatar of Fear. He tries to ignore his instincts as best that he can. His gut had been screaming at him to flee, run and never stop. He knew that wouldn't help matters this time.

Shaking his head, the vah shir's mind races as he tries to figure out how he would survive this with his hide intact. Other then his vague plan, Sajeek didn't really see anyway out of this one.

"The Sajeek district of Justice - oh, I think we should use the standard spelling, just to avoid confusion - the Sajeek district will be dedicated to cats and such. Whiskers Inn, the Cat House, the Hunters' Weaponry. The Revery district will, of course, house a school of Enchantment, a library, and several jewelers. I haven't yet decided whether Wizardry and Magician schools will be welcomed or shunned, but I suppose in the spirit of the city, I should at least allow them."

Revery's eyes look to the horizon as he thinks of Arwen, Bast, and Tudan.

"The Kwen district will be where the gambling is, and where the rogues go to... wait, what do honest rogues do, anyways? And the Nogglegrop district will be a tinkerer's paradise, with all manner of mechanical toy, beast and servant making life interesting for its inhabitants. Tinkercats from there will encroach upon the Sajeek district, and the intense rivalry may require the intervention of the King so that innocent bystanders, and innocent mice, do not get caught in the crossfire.

We will need a statue of Justis at the main gate - a large one. Maybe one at each gate? What will the Gwendalyn district be like, Gwen? I have trouble picturing your people in a city."

Some kind of water is on Revery's cheek. He must have just had a drink, and spilled some. And the pollen seems to have been making his eyes red.

"The Quinaweniel graveyard must guard against undead incursions, lest they spill out into the other district. Perhaps some specially invoked and invested clockwork clerics will be required to stand as sentries there. Their metal fingers will hold up holy symbols to keep the ghouls inside, and ensure grieving... cough ... grieving loved ones only enter during daylight hours."

Revery checks his memories once more to ensure he truly does not have a Disintegrate Avatar of Fear spell he has forgotten, having thought it would never be used. Alas, he has never had such a spell.

"What do honest rogues do? Why, politics, my dear erudite." Gwendalyn's mouth quirks briefly into an impossible smile in the face of possibly certain death. "We absolutely must place the city council chambers in the Kwen district. And if we survive..." she qualifies under her breath, "you must visit Halas with me." Her tone is firm, brooking no argument.

"It amuses us to no end that Southerners call us 'barbarians', when we're the ones with a sauna in every home, and municipal baths so that everyone can stay clean -- including even the trapper visiting for the week to sell his furs, and camping outside the city to save money. My Church administers the law and metes justice fairly, but most regular folk aren't particularly devout; when Halasites aren't practicing a trade like fishing or sewing, they're either selling their wares, shopping for what they don't make themselves, or drinking to celebrate having everything they need."

" Of course we do politics, as well as be merchants as well, gambling, is the borderline of what we do. Of course then we fall into pick pocketing, blackmail, enforcers, petty robbery, highway men, and moving 'found' goods. Gwen I would love to see Halas when we get out of this hot mess that we have found ourselves in that is." Kwen says with a grin, death was coming and the half-elf couldn't help himself by finding a few more moments to get a few quips in.
Patting Revery on the shoulder Kwen says " Aye, if today is the day that we face death, let us face it together and with a sly tongue. Everyone Tis been an honor, if we must face this, let us face our doom as who we are, not running as fear filled fools. Gwen after all this is said and done, you owe me at least a mug of mead." Kwen finishes with his grin turning into a ear swallowing one.

"Yes, it wants us to fear it. Let us refuse to give it that. As for politics, I thought it was the dishonest rogues who take up that profession, " says Revery.

"I die with all of you, friends.."

Cazic-Thule had commanded its minion, the Avatar of Fear, to run the party down as a reprisal for what had been done to the Faceless' Greenmist altar on Antonica. It is a strange sort of honour to come under the scrutiny of a deity and successively its emissary upon Norrath.

The charge begins as soon as the monster sees you, and its multi-tonne charge is felt in your very bones long before it gets close.

Trample: Automatic Hit
Damage: 8d8 + 15 ⇒ (3, 7, 6, 8, 2, 4, 4, 4) + 15 = 53

(Please include a DC 30 reflex save for half damage, or you may make an AoO at a -4 penalty vs. its AC 35 and DR 30)

As soon as it gets close (within 20') you all feel an overwhelming sense of magical fear.

(Please include a DC 25 will save vs. Invoke Fear)

Nogglegrop fights to the last, even though the battle is lost before it starts.

Reflex (vs. DC 30 Trample): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7 (fail)
Will (vs. DC 25 Invoke Fear): 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (10) + 11 = 21 (fail)

As the cleric flees screaming (failed reflex save), he opens his guard completely (incurs AoO).

Slam: 1d20 + 28 ⇒ (16) + 28 = 44

Damage 4d6 + 10 ⇒ (3, 6, 4, 5) + 10 = 28 (plus daze)

Nogglegrop is cut down in front of you. His lifeless little body falls still at your feet.

Swenj had sought out Cazic-Thule's attention, to barter for his daughter, but had failed. It appeared that he had been successful in getting the Faceless' faceless face to the turn to you. You would have to remember to thank him once you met him in the afterlife.

Revery, instead of jumping aside, tries to talk to the creature, or rather, yell at it, his fist in the air.

"You can stop the Shissar from destroying the world!"

Will Save (DC 25) 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (9) + 8 = 17

His attempt at bravery fails, and he falls unconscious after being stepped on, his body crushed under the heels of the Avatar of Fear.

(HP: -4/49)

Sajeek inhaled sharply at with the speed in which the Avatar of Fear rushes them. The massive being sends tremors racing long heartbeats before it even runs into them.

"THE SHISSAR RETURN TO NORRATH!!! DISTURBING THE ALTAR WAS THE ONLY WAY TO ALERT YOU!!!! THEY USE THEIR MAGICS TO MOVE UNSEEN!!!!!" Sajeek roars at the top of his lungs, speaking the hissing language of the Iskar. Not that it was going to matter in the least.

Kwen gives a shutter at the impact from the Avatar of fear; then shouts out " THE SHISSAR ARE COMING BACK TO NORRATH! THAT ALTAR WAS THE ONLY WAY TO GET YOUR ATTENTION! WE NEEDED YOU TO TAKE NOTE OF THE SHISSAR AGAIN!"

Words drip from your lips until the creature gets close enough to launch its attack, and then the waves of fear wash over you and every thought is to run forever knowing you will only die tired.

Revery collapses next to Nogglegrop, and though the cleric is dead the enchanter still breathes; for now.

Sajeek and Kwen have never been hit by something like that before. Bones have shattered, joints twisted, but they still try to escape.

Your words are deflected by the armour of its indifference, it is nothing more than a tool to mete out injustice.

The dreams are twisted today, for some reason. Has something happened?

Yes ......

A goblin enchanter is casting some simple spells at Revery, and Revery is falling prey to all of them. Revery's spells, on the other hand, have no effect on the little creature. Now the creature has four arms, and it can cast its spells twice as fast. Revery is literally crushed under them, as an ant under a heel. It hurts so much...

There was that.

Flying cats abound, and they taunt Revery. It disconcerts him, until he figures out they are just playing around. He holds out his arm and one alights upon it, soft as a finch. Now, when did cats learn to fly? Revery tries to remember. He asks his mother, the snake with arms - is everything growing extra limbs today? His mother just smiles and returns to her hole in the floor.

And that too.

Now he sees the future. This is a first. The future is there before him. He supposes that, actually, it is just one possible future. His mother returns and with her her friends. Many snakelike friends. They are hissing, and slithering around eating up everyone. The people they are eating, Erudites, mostly, but there are some gnolls there in Odus too, for some reason; the people are not protesting. It's as if being eaten was as common an occurrence as walking the family rat. Some are impatient, and they look at the sun, waiting for it to be over with. Let's hurry up and end the world, already.

Are there other worlds? Will they end, too? What will happen to Quellious, and the other gods?

Running, running.

Seems to be a theme with you.

Who? Who are you? What voice is this, invading my dreams?

And it seems being crushed like and ant has addled your brain. I am Revery, of course. The Enchanter. The failure. The world will end, and it's all because of me. They are coming.

They are, aren't they? Why didn't it listen?

It didn't listen. If that dread god gets another chance, no, if it had got another chance, theoretically, would it have put ears on its avatar, to listen to wise enchanters? To pay attention?

Gods are not like that. They do not learn from their mistake, at least, not often.

The dreams seem somehow confused today, even more than usual. Has something happened?

A river of tears.

No, blood. It's blood.

Probably they are mixed together. Noggy is dead.

The others have abandoned. No, they have run off, scared.

Go to sleeeeeep!

o-k

Gwendalyn adds her voice to the chorus warning Cazic-Thule of the Shissar and asking him to return Rahn. Like Revery, she hopes to get his attention by standing her ground in the face of a ground-shaking charge by a four-armed giant, not even trying to dodge.

Will (DC 25): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (17) + 10 = 27 Success

Her shamanic training serves her well, as she steels herself against the supernatural aura of the god of fear. Though half-dead (or really more like three-quarters), she can't help going through the motions of trying to save her friends, even though she's beginning to doubt that it's even listening.

"The Shissar are coming back! All will die!"

She casts her best healing spell on Nogglegrop, in the vain hope that there is still a spark of life in his crumpled body.

"We can stop them! But we need Swenj's daughter, Rahn..."

She casts a short buff and a lesser healing spell on Kwen, judging that Revery is probably safer staying down.

"She has a message -- and there is a girl, Justis..."

Gwendalyn stands firm against the creature as the others flee for their lives. She stands there with the creature towering over 40' above her and feels the truth of its power.

Harm Touch (melee touch attack): 1d20 + 28 ⇒ (17) + 28 = 45
Damage: 60

Slam: 1d20 + 28 ⇒ (2) + 28 = 30
Damage 4d6 + 10 ⇒ (3, 4, 1, 4) + 10 = 22

The shaman's face becomes a fine mist.

Running away only prolongs the inevitable.

After the resurrection months pass...

You are in a darkness too deep to see anything, even for those that usually can see in utter blackness. Your flesh is slowly peeled off, and your body pulled apart piece by piece. Sufficient healing had been provided to stop you from succumbing to your wounds. After the play time with your flesh they move on to your soul. Years pass where you are hunted and slaughtered in various horrific ways over and over and over and over and over and over.

Then one morning the blackness disappears and you awaken into a nightmare.

Your bodies and your psyche had been put back together with a crudeness of using a spatula to perform brain surgery.

Rough terrain surrounds your bloodstained and torn body. A blooded sky speaks of the horrors that await those who dare venture here.

You stand upon the Plane of Fear. The home of Cazic-Thule.

Deathtouching golems, shadowstepping scarelings, mass-dispelling tentacles terrors and evil eyes, blinding nightmares, and other vicious creatures are just a few of the denizens which serve Cazic Thule, and which look to destroy any mortals foolish enough trespass into their realm.

In the distance are pyramids and standing 'tween them is a creature of legend. A walking mountain.

Cazic-Thule.

(please include a description of some of the nightmare activities that had transpired)

‘Dying is the easy part’. Was the last thought by Kwen; right before he shuffled off the mortal coil, after all the flesh will only handle oh so much pain before succumbing to the wounds inflicted upon it. Waking up to the cruel kiss of a razor blade slowly peeling back flesh in the torture chamber was what started the nightmare.
The torture
Kwen felt the blade start to make small incisions in his flesh; gritting his teeth he opened his eyes, only to see nothing but complete blackness. Unable to find a way to prevent the blades, or to find his capture he tried to wall the core of who he was off from what he was going through. Taking the smallest measure in putting that section away, having a sneaking suspicion that he was going to lose more than just his flesh, he felt a tear run down his check.
After what felt like mere moments, he felt red hot tongs grip the flesh that had the incisions on his hands, arms, chest, and legs and slowly start to pull up, stripping the flesh from his body. Kwen was unable to hold by the screams for a long, but the gods knew he tried for as long as he was able too.
The feeling of magic restraining him, awoke the anger, but even than that was useless; for no matter what tricks that the rogue knew and tried he was still held into place then; the salt was thrown on the open wounds. Kwen couldn’t remember the primordial scream, only the feeling that his throat was raw from the screams. This was only for the flesh, as the wounds were healed much later, when the rogue was missing most of his meat; the muscles were lovingly tickled with rusty instruments.
Then after some time; it started again, this time going down to his sinews, the process was repeated until they had reached his soul.
The souls’ lament
After an uncountable amount of time had passed; Kwen could see his body and the pain that it was going through. He heard a mocking laugh, than the words: Finally we got to the good parts . A shutter ran through the half-elf’s body and terror filled the soul. Before Kwen could even start to retaliate or flee from this place and return to his deities embrace a red lance was thrust through Kwen’s spirit.
The process so was sharp, the pain robbed his spirit of everything that the he was, every decision that the rogue had made in his life, any good deed or action was erased. When Kwen managed to clear some of the pain from his vision he saw that his torturer was Kwen, the pain intensified more than he could bear.

The Hunting
Kwen woke up just realize that something was stalking him, Kwen tried to hide at times, set up traps with what limited tools were around him. Nothing mattered one beast slowly devored the half-elf while he was still alive; another injected its eggs into his body, allowing for the rogue to be consumed from the inside out. Another took it’s time ‘playing’ with the rogue before putting him out of his misery; only for Kwen to wake up fresh for more death. Even when he was lucky enough to wound one creature with his hands, it still managed to kill him with even more fervor than any of the others.
One nightmare had even taken the shape of Kwen’s dead parents, tricking the rogue into lowering his defenses to kill him by draining all of his blood from his body than turning his organs into soup; it always ended the same way over and over and over.
Trampled, eaten alive, buried alive, pain, acid, the list would go on and on, nothing would ever change except that Kwen would return the next day for more and more. The humor dried up for a while, this was Kwen’s new existence the hope died out until only the shattered remains were back.

The Awaking

Time had passed; then Kwen awoke sensing that this day was different. For once the nightmare was over, perhaps for a while; perhaps for good, until the rogue opened his eyes to the see the sky for the first time, then the sight of Cazic-Thule. Seeing the other’s actually brought fresh tears to Kwen’s soul, knowing that for once he had been brought back to the others.