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Many books tell the story of Tar-Baphon, the Whispering Tyrant—a lich so devoid of a soul that even his vile screams echo as little more than dusty whispers. After seventy-five years of grueling battle, the Shining Crusade finally came to an end when the forces of humanity sealed the Whispering Tyrant beneath his tower known as Gallowspire. For nearly nine centuries, the world has believed itself safely beyond the Tyrant's grasp. How wrong the world was...
DM Brainiac Presents...
25 Calistril, 4719 AR
All is darkness and cold stone. Although you dimly recall going to sleep last night in the small community of Roslar's Coffer, you awaken in a dark, stone box only a few inches larger than you in each direction. The cool scent of earth surrounds you.
The ground is hard, cold, unforgiving - and painful to land on. The young girl would have struggled to control the horse under the best of circumstances; here and now, with the animal maddened by the sounds of panic and the stink of fear, she didn't have a chance - it threw her before it had barely run a league. She curls up, sobbing, waiting - hoping - praying for Ladzlovar to be there, to put a hand on her shoulder and tell her everything will be alright...
"Hey there, little one. You can't stop here, it's not safe." It's not her brother, but the man has kind eyes, and - in time - she will replace her memories of her brother's face (forgive me, Ladzlovar!) with his...
Ellie wakes with a start. The ground is hard, cold, stone. Something is badly wrong - she knows, even in her sleep-fugged state. She takes a few deep breaths to quell the incipient panic. After all, she's not a helpless little girl, anymore.
She thumps the lid above her with one armoured hand.
Eldarel shoves the lid off of the box with a feat of strength. Cool air flows over her as she climbs out. It is pitch black, but sounds echo off the unseen walls and ceiling of an enclosed room. She can hear noises coming from nearby, including the muffled panicked chirping of a bird. She finds that all of her gear is on her, and feeling around, she notes five other long stone boxes like the one she climbed out of, as well as what seems to be a wooden crate covered in a drop cloth.
On the one hand this is a remarkably familiar, even comforting feeling. The soft earth beneath, the cool stone, its all pleasant and satisfies something deep inside her. She reaches for Gabriella's hand, and hits the wall.
'Gabbi? Gabbi!'
Panicking doesn't help. So Alessandra takes a deep breath, places both palms on the ceiling and heaves.
The moment the lid is off she's out of the coffin.
"Gabbi? Gabbi? Where are you?" She gives a fraction of a second's glance to the woman sitting up in another coffin, but the hair is too light - it's not her sister.
"Gabbi?"
Gabriella gasps in shock, but then collects her wits.
Just a dream. Like the hundreds before it.
She waits for the assumed dream to progress, it doesn't.
You have to move forward to escape a dream.
"Ali?" she calls out. Hearing no response, she settles herself.
Definitely a dream then.
Attempting to propel the dream forward, she presses upwards on the lid above her.
The stone plank clunks off to the side and the small woman nimble steps out of the box. She looks down at her hand with an odd expression.
"Never had a dream scrape skin before," she says quietly to herself, sucking the side of her hand into her mouth.
"Ali!?" she calls out louder and then notices the other woman before the other coffins. "Who are you?" she asks.
Before the woman can answer, another coffin's lid is shoved aside and Gabriella is relieved at the sight of her sister climbing out of it. She moves to stand close to her twin and looks around again.
"What's going on?" she asks. "This isn't a dream. Where are we?"
"Gabi!" Alessandra gives her sister a surprisingly tight hug, holding on for a long moment before stepping back to focus on the other woman. "Sorry. I was worried. I'm Alessandra and this is Gabriella. What's your name?"
The changeling woman stirs from her sleep and tries to roll on her side, but the box denies the movement. The curtain of sleep keeps Elká's conscience from shining a light on the seriousness of the matter and she gives hammers up against the lid, only then realizing the seriousness of her predicament. "Wait, I'm not dreaming?!". Talking to yourself can be a healthy thing to do, but when your voice is constrained within the rather narrow confines of your funeral coffin, the healthy part flies right out of the window.
"This thing is smaller than a halfling's arse!" Elka's eyes are now wide open and the woman is fully awake, pushing, yelling and swearing at the lid, the box, whoever put her in here, her cursed mother, that bastard knight-errant who had stolen her heart only to ride off with it.
Hearing the cursing coming from one of the as yet unopened coffins Alessandra smiles again at the blonde woman and hurries over to the noisy coffin.
She puts her shoulder to the lid and, without much apparent effort, slides the lid away to reveal...
You emerge into a room carved from stone. Six sarcophagi line one wall, including the one that you just clambered out of. A dusty crate draped with a drop cloth stands in the corner. Various relief carvings on the north wall display several heroic figures. The words "Red Shrikes--Noble Companions in the War Against Evil. Rest Well, My Friends" are inscribed above the carvings. A single stone door with iron bands provides an exit.
Gabriella brushes her hand across her sister's arm, but then moves away to examine the carvings and then the door.
The carvings depict four women and a bearded man. Two of the women look very similar, as if they were sisters.
Gabrielle feels a coldness in her stomach as she looks over the carvings - like she should recognize them
She frowns and then traces her fingers over the old stone. "Hey, Ali? Come look at these."
Alessandra moves on, coming to join her sister in front of the carvings. "Ok, that's strange. Those people look..." She glances at her sister and grasps her hand. "They look like us... But there's only four of us here - all women. Maybe it's just a coincidence."
She doesn't sound all that convinced. Gabriella knows her sister doesn't believe in coincidence - the number of elaborate theories she's constructed about their father over time are testament to that. So she's definitely freaked out by this.
"Gabi!" Alessandra gives her sister a surprisingly tight hug, holding on for a long moment before stepping back to focus on the other woman. "Sorry. I was worried. I'm Alessandra and this is Gabriella. What's your name?"
Ellie hears the noises of the stone lids being pushed off, but can see nothing. Taking a sunrod from her pack, she strikes it against the cold stone and lifts it up.
The light illuminates her honey-blonde hair, which is oddly out of place given the rest of her features are more clearly Varisian. She is dressed inconspicuously in shades of earth-grey and dull green - the sole splash of colour is the kapenia worn around the shoulders of her scale mail armour. An assortment of weapons, including a heavy flail, are stowed at the belt and on her back. Her broad shoulders suggest someone used to carrying weapons, but her youthful looks and anxious expression suggest she's never had to use them in anger.
She blinks in the sudden glow of light, but at least she's able to see the speakers now. Her eyes widen in surprise, unable to tell them apart. "Oh, uh, hello, Alessandra, Gabriella. I'm Ellie. Do you know where we are?"
She looks at the carvings on the old stone, but it means nothing to her.
Alessandra moves on, coming to join her sister in front of the carvings. "Ok, that's strange. Those people look..." She glances at her sister and grasps her hand. "They look like us... But there's only four of us here - all women. Maybe it's just a coincidence."
"OK, that's just creepy." Ellie isn't a great believer in coincidence at the best of times - and this is definitely not the best of times. Something is very, very wrong.
"Oh crap. Crap!" She hastily pushes the lids off the remaining coffers, before looking helplessly out into the darkness beyond the light of her sunrod. "Uh, I don't suppose you can see anyone out there, can you? Like, an elf, hopefully?"
She's not sure what happens to Lore Wardens who lose their assigned mentors, but she's pretty sure no allowance is made for it being only their first proper mission.
The two remaining coffins contain a bearded man and a very agitated whippoorwill. There is no sign of an elf.
Elká groans when she rises from the grave. Her grave. The weight of her armor had put a number on her during that bout of panic back when the lid was still on. Now, every muscle is screaming bloody murder. Still, being out of the box is a significant improvement over being stuck inside the box.
With her returning to her, a pair of discolored eyes - one lilac, the other malachite - stare at the three women who were already past the whole 'just managed to get out of my own tomb' thing. She squints and flashes Ellie an annoyed look when the human creates a source of light. "Elká, the name is Elká. I'd say it is a pleasure to meet you all, but it seems we all just came crawling out of our graves. If that isn't an indication that the Gods want us dead, I don't know what is, so yes, surely our day is going to get a whole lot more amazing from here on."
While the set of colorful eyes and luscious shadow-kissed locks might make her look rather femine and perhaps, in the right circumstances, pretty, Elká's hulking figure and nails the size of spear tips ensure that someone needs a serious case of beer goggles before falling for her. "Heh. I doubt my mother shagged a paladin. Well, maybe if she captured the poor lad ... and then got him ready for the act in her cauldron ..."
Gabriella raises an eyebrow at her sister's mention of coincidence.
"You're adorable when you're struggling with reality," she says, brushing one hand across Alessandra's cheek.
She looks over the other 'corpses' with an appraising eye. "I'm not in a coffin anymore, so, yes, my day is already more amazing than it was," she says to Elká with a shy grin. "Shall we see what lies beyond the door? Perhaps a party?"
She readies her crossbow and waits for someone to open the portal in question.
"Oy!" Alessandra doesn't quite pout, but its close."Some of us actually have feelings you know!" She doesn't seem to mind the contact though.
When Elka starts explaining her parentage Alessandra grins, "Sounds like we're the children of messed up homes! Anyway, my sister is right. Unless Mr Silent over there has something to contribute we should get going. Ellie, Elka you both look like capable sorts - would one of you like to go first?"
When Elka starts explaining her parentage Alessandra grins, "Sounds like we're the children of messed up homes!"
"...my home was fine."
It's not clear if Ellie realises she said that out loud. One hand clutches at the corroded holy Sarenite symbol hanging from her belt, and she briefly closes her eyes as the pain of memory washes over her again; but after a brief struggle, she breathes in deeply and rejoins the world.
"I'll go first, sure... but what's in this?" Using the tip of the sunrod, Ellie pushes back the drop cloth from the crate, her other hand holding her flail. Just in case.
The crate contains a variety of dried out and useless paints, a crowbar, flint and steel, three common lamps, two hammers, one hooded lantern, eight pints of oil, and a dented pewter mug.
Elká shakes her head at the contents of the box and sighs. In the end, she decides to pick up one of the hammers and then vents her thoughts. "Is this some sort of cruel joke? Here's your box-o-death and, just in case you manage to get out, here's a crowbar and set of hammers to give you the impression there's a chance at escape. Not sure what to make of the dried up paints. Please don't tell me that one of you is a failed artist.
She then carries the hammer over to the one door gracing this place and eyes the women and the man. "So, sisters and brother of the fellowship of the box, should I give in to the temptation and find out if this bastard is unlocked?"
"You'll probably want these." Alessandra says, handing the lantern and one of the lamps to the two humans in the group. "We've got lots of oil, you should be good for light for quite a while."
She takes a hammer for herself, tucking it into her belt, before considering the remaining items. "Do we need dried paints and a dented mug?" She asks the room at large.
"Sure thing, let's get out of here!"
The older, bearded man with grey hair starts and gasps for breath. He was actually conscious the whole time, but sleep paralysis had taken hold. He stumbles out of the coffin before regaining his composure.
A little whippoorwill chirps and flies out of the last coffin and nestles on the man's shoulder near his neck.
The man says "Oh good, Kamosh, I am glad you're here."
The bird replies in a singsong voice "Safe and sound. Safe and sound."
The man, who must be in his 40's, introduces himself. "I would say good-day under more normal circumstances, but alas I do not know if it is day or night, or if there even is day and night in this mysterious place. I am Ulrich Kurbanov, a doctor from the university of Lepidstadt. Ms Ellie, I am glad to see a familiar face in this strange occurrence."
The bird squawks "What about me!?"
"Right, of course you are the most familiar face, Kamosh. He is my familiar. Quite the pest, really. Keep an eye on any food you have on you, as he is an insufferable thief."
He takes the hooded lantern, saying if necessary he could animate it.
Gabriella picks up the crowbar and feels the heft in her hand. She shakes her head and then drops it back in the crate.
"Yes, let's," she says in a voice that almost sounds bubbly.
The door proves to be unlocked. It opens into a room that contains several low shelves covered with rags and loose bones. A hallway extends to the southeast, while the far side of the door you came through is carved with the image of the heroic-looking Red Shrikes standing solemnly together.
As soon as you enter the room, a single animated skeleton in rusty armor turns and lumbers towards you!
The skeleton swings its broken scimitar at Eldarel, slicing into her side!
Oh, leaving such a useful tool behind would be a terrible waste, wouldn't it? Elká collects the crowbar from the crate and ties it to the side of her backpack. The mismatched eyes then focus on the doctor and his familiar. They study the little bird intently and a cruel grin appears on Elká's face. "Try me. I've always wanted to pick up taxidermy as a hobby."
Sadly, the sole inhabitant of the room beyond the door shares Elká's interests in taxidermy and isn't too bothered whether or not Ellie wants to volunteer for his first foray into the art of stuffing the dead.
Alessandra moves quickly, circling the skeleton before stepping in behind it to strike for the skull!
Ulrich yells out Ellie's name, then furrows his brow. He steps up to get the skeleton in view, then launches out a disruption spell to weaken the necromantic energies surrounding the animation.
Alessandra steps up to the skeleton and smashes its skull in! As the bones collapse in a heap, what at first seemed to be a knot of bone on its pelvis scuttles free! This tiny, skittering creature looks like an insect made of fish bones, with a head full of glowing red eyes.
Elka studies the thing and slashes at it with her claws, but it narrowly dodges her attack.
Gabriella takes aim with her crossbow, but seeing the sole skeleton almost surrounded by friendlies, she holds her shot to see how this will turn out.
"An Ostovite?" Asks Ulrich curiously. "That's a creature from the Abyss. Is that where we are?"
Seeing the thing scuttling across the floor, Gabriella follows Ulrich's lead. Her crossbow slips back to her shoulder and she gestures and points a finger at the creature.
"We haven't been judged yet," Gabriella says with a quiet laugh. "That can't be where we're at."
She looks at her sister nervously, though.
Ulrich continues walking and stands next to Ellie. He uses his quarterstaff in an attempt to herd the creature towards Ellie's heavy flail.
"Disrupt undead won't work on this creature, miss. It is a magical beast."
EARLIER
Ellie nods in greeting to the doctor, but her mind is elsewhere - mainly wondering where Meister Anfiel, her elven mentor, could have got himself to.
As the others discuss what to take or leave, she gathers all the stuff they leave behind, including the pewter mug. You don't know what might be significant later.
She gratefully accepted a lantern, hanging it from her belt. She only has a few sunrods, after all. But...
"Uh, if it's not, you know, rude to ask, or personal, or something... Uh, how come you can see in the dark?"
NOW
For all the practice and training, nothing - nothing - prepares you for actual combat. Caught by surprise, Ellie's response is to flinch rather than to try and defend herself; and she pays the price when the scimitar slices deeply into her side.
For a moment, there's nothing - and then pain, an agony she's never felt before, enough to make her scream.
Angry both at herself and the thing that hurt her, she brings the flail down on it as hard as she possibly can.
Ellie's flail squashes the ostovite flat! Greenish ichor splatters on the floor as the flattened creature's legs twitch feebly a few times before it ceases movement altogether.
In the aftermath of the fight, a search of the shelves reveals a masterwork heavy mace among the rags and bones. Gabriella also finds three small pearls, each worth 20 gp.
Ellie drops the flail and presses one hand to her wounded side. "Ow... Ow!"
She bites her lip, hard, but the feel of her own blood trickling out from between her ribs is hard to bear. Her breath hisses between her clenched teeth as she fights for self-control.
"Uh, if it's not, you know, rude to ask, or personal, or something... Uh, how come you can see in the dark?"
"Let's just say that it was a little gift from our father," Gabriella responds. She then gives the woman a wide smile and her sharp incisors are readily apparent.
"Disrupt undead won't work on this creature, miss. It is a magical beast."
"I knew that," Gabriella snaps back, her embarrassment coming across as anger.
The woman steps across to examine Eldarel. "Oh, it's not that bad. I've had worse hangnails." Her nostrils flare as the smell of blood hits her senses. "I can heal it if you'd like, but we might want to save our magical healing for when someone really needs it."
She notes some of the blood on her fingers and surreptitiously brings one to her lips. "What do you think, love?" she asks, looking at her twin.
Ulrich takes a look at Ellie's cut side. "Well I have good news and bad news. The good news is that the cut didn't get any organs. The bad news is that I do not have my tools of trade with me, so I am unable to help you properly. Miss Alessandra, would you be so kind as to heal her? Which God is the patron of your power?"
Alessandra's tongue flickers out to taste the dark liquid on her sisters fingertips. "Feisty. And a lovely shot of adrenaline."
She gets the mace appreciatively. "Who wants this? I'll carry it of no-one else wants it." Gabriella needs a close weapon more than her bit the mace is a little more... weoghrt than her sister likes.
"Let's just say that it was a little gift from our father," Gabriella responds. She then gives the woman a wide smile and her sharp incisors are readily apparent.
"Oh. Oh." Ellie pales slightly as Gabriella's meaning sinks in. She's heard of the vampire-born, of course, she's well-read; but she's never met one.
Still, it's not their fault, and they seem friendly enough. She does her best to smile at the sisters. "Uh... right."
Fortunately, her lack of social skills and a potentially awkward conversation are both completely eclipsed by the attacking skeleton.
The woman steps across to examine Eldarel. "Oh, it's not that bad. I've had worse hangnails." Her nostrils flare as the smell of blood hits her senses. "I can heal it if you'd like, but we might want to save our magical healing for when someone really needs it."
Ellie pales further - but this time with anger - as she looks at the slender woman. "Hangnail?! We both know that sword would have cut you practically in half. And no, don't concern yourself, good Doctor. Apparently I don't really need healing... Let's just keep going. And don't taste my blood - that's mine! Urgh. Revolting."
Her anger is mostly directed at herself, but it's much easier to aim it outwards at a convenient target. Honestly. You flinched. You actually flinched and thought that would protect you! Never a thought of trying to duck, or blocking it with the weapon you were carrying.
Some fighter YOU are...
She takes point at the front of the group, once more.
...although her vision is slightly blurry on account of the misdirected anger leaking from her eyes.
As you proceed down the hallway, a small alcove on the east wall contains a few stone shelves. The shelves contain supplies: a dozen candless, a silver holy symbol of Aroden, a magic wand, five potions of cure light wounds, and a healer's kit.
Beyond the shelves, the marble walls of a large hall are carved with several images of battle, each featuring a knight astride a lean horse. The knight wears no helmet and has long hair and a wide mustache. In each of the images, the knight is charging at undead horrors with a rapier in hand.
Two halls lead out of the western portion of this room, one to the north and one to the south. Three large archways lead out of the room to the east. The archway to the northeast is carved with the words "At My Right Hand, Peace for Years of Righteous Labors"; the archway to the east is carved with the words, "Roslar: Hero and Paladin at His Well-Earned Rest;" and the archway to the southeast reads, "Loyal Abdell, Support Thy Master Always."
Looking closer at the carvings, you can see, in addition to mortal companions, a slender, winged woman with a heart-shaped face and long hair, looking down benevolently on Roslar.
Sprawled in the center of this room is a human-sized metal figure that resembles a skeleton wrapped in robes. The limbs of the figure are askew and melted, as though with acid.
Gabriella gives a short laugh.
"I'm Gabriella, she's Alessandra. And she couldn't heal with a leash on," she says removing the rest of the blood from her fingers. "To answer your question, I follow Pharasma."
Gabriella doesn't recognize any of the names carved on the archways, but notes the image of the winged woman.
"That's Arazni, Aroden's harald. She's dead now," she says curtly.
"Oh do you? I am also a follower of the Lady of Graves, though I have not been blessed with her gifts. I apologize about mixing the you two up, as you look quite similar. Are you identical twins?"
As they reach the alcove, Ulrich is glad to see a healer's kit in the mix, as well as the potions. He claims the kit, for his only form of healing is the non-magic variety. "There we go, Ellie. I can stitch you up now if you would like, or if you prefer, these potions can heal your wound as well."
Ulrich doesn't have a darn clue about the construction of that wand, but he does know a thing or two about Roslar.
"Ervin Roslar. What it must have been like to lead a battle of such glory. What a shame his death was followed by scandal. He doesn't strike me as someone who would betray the saint Arazni. He is said that he was enamoured with her, after all."
Ellie gratefully accepts the potion. "Thank you, Doctor." Drinking it dulls the pain of her wound, but not the sting to her pride; or her embarrassment at having lost her temper.
She has little to contribute to the conversation, but she listens keenly. "Why on earth would he betray the herald of his own god? Wasn't he a Paladin? That's an odd rumor to have still running around, isn't it? How long ago was this, again?"
She points at the partially melted metal figure. "Any thought on what that is?"
"Oh do you? I am also a follower of the Lady of Graves, though I have not been blessed with her gifts. I apologize about mixing the you two up, as you look quite similar. Are you identical twins?"
Gabriella glances at her sister. "I'm not sure why people have such a hard time telling us apart," she says in annoyance. She points at her twin. "She's the pretty one."
As she spends more time taking in the large hall, she mutters to herself, "Why a tomb? We haven't been judged yet."