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I can't believe I burned smite chaos on that shadow assassin right at the start of the dungeon. Bow shots that ignore DR would have been really great right now...assuming V's chaotic, of course. You don't know how good you've got it Malthir. Cyclopean lich. Evil? Duh. Chaotic or lawful? Damned if I know. I'll just wait for the enlarge.
Hey everyone! I'm here - sorry I've dragged my feet checking in. Really psyched that this is starting up again. Never thought I'd be this happy to find myself paralyzed at the bottom of a pit. I'm also not too attached to the kingdom building rules but am keen to do more mass combat (assuming we're not all dead a few rounds from now). If we did go with kingdom building would we use the UC ones? The Kingmaker rules were a sort of beta for the UC ones, weren't they?
Sure thing, I've checked the box. Useful feature, that. Thanks for the understanding everyone. Perhaps we shall meet again.
Hey all You've probably guessed this already, but I'm not going to be able to come back to running Smoke and Shadow. My lifestyle has changed since I decided to start running the campaign, and I just don't have the hours in the week required to do the preparation, world building and detailed posting required to produce a campaign that meets a standard I'm happy with. I've told myself over and over in the past months that I'll make time to start up S&S again next week...next week...next week...but it hasn't happened. I owe it to you all to make a decision one way or the other, hence this message. Thank you so much for signing up and sticking with the game even when my updates got flaky. I'm sorry I can't give you all the conclusion you deserve.
'Vrintie' answers Damrang first "I know. We're free down here as well. We might not be able to leave, but we don't have to worry about starving or freezing or hiding from raiders and monsters. We've got more time for leisure than ninety nine percent of people in Glorion" The gnome chuckles at Vhailor's comment. "Vrint, by the way. Certainly not Vrintie. And thanks, but no thanks. She's a patronizing slapper but she's a only singer we've got." A loud, exceedingly strange sound issues from the box. It starts like a hammer blow and fades like a wasp swarm humming in tune. The instrument held by Vrint's band mate "Not everyone in Delve is allowed to fire off muskets, but we've got something better." He jumps off his stool and strides towards the stage. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- The 'half' Orc replies, enunciating surprisingly clearly through his tusks: "We want you to kill Wreckers" The dwarf elaborates "I understand you met a member of the Wreckers when you first entered Delve? That movement is becoming an increasing problem in Delve. As new arrivals still making up your mind about our city, you WILL be approached by one of them in the next few days." "We're here - entirely unofficially, I might add, for they have spies in key places - to convince you to act as double agents. Have you an oppinion on the Wreckers?" ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Obadiah, your enemy's armour is unnaturally thick but your blade finds a way round it. Though it misses his throat by an inch it slams into the Drow's sholder and draws blood. He doesn't reel or panic as you half-hoped he would. He takes the blow in his stride and lashes our with his gauntleted fists:
The first swing is at your head and you duck under it, but the caster's other fist slams into your gut. As the wind is knocked out of you pain lances through every nerve in your body and you hear the crackle of electricity. The smell it leaves in the air is one of hot copper, not that of Erastil's honest storms. You refuse to fall. The blow comes again but you knock it aside and bring your sickle back for another blow. Alas, the drow is too quick. As the sickle starts to swing his fist slams forward into your face. There's a flash of white pain, then nothing. Then, the pain starts again You cough as you taste the bitter tang of a healing potion. Every muscle aches as nerves are unburned. Your eyes open to the tip of a crossbow bolt. You can hear the silence that falls after a battle broken only by the distant rumble of a machine - and Olivia's voice: "It's like a fraking mirror. We come west with me held prisioner, now we're going east with you in ropes" Your hands are indeed tied in front of you.
Unsurprisingly it's the dwarf in the jewelry that answers your greeting. "Ah, so you're Obadiah's Eyes! I thought there'd be more of you? Come, take a seat, drink some win, take in the sights, make some money..." They've paid for clean air but this still smells shady... ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Gnome answers Vhailor first: "Thanks. This stuff ain't cheap, but it pops more than what they call dye. Gives the old brain a bit of a buzz too, before it dries." Then he replies to Damrang: "The best kind of dangerous is the kind that goes where it wants and fights who it chooses. I tell you, mercenaries from the surface...you must have been in half the wars they showed in the Mirrorhall. Seen most of the world, I bet. You could teach our ranks and files of grenadiers a thing or two" He looks over at his two band mates, who've stood some wierd cage-like boxes up and are now fiddling with a bulky lute. "You're going to love that when they get it running. If it works this time..." He turns back to you. "So what sort of fighting do you all do? Spells or shots? Wait, it would be...spells or blades, I guess. I'm particularly interested if you've got anyone of a bardic pursuasion..." The beautiful half elven woman - the singer for the band - calls over from one of the other tables. Shouts, really: "Vrintie! Mama's still thirsty!" The gnome glowers and beckons to the barman "Particularly one who sings" ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Obadiah, you close the distance across the blood-specked field. Ahead of you your quarry has got his defences back up and the arrows once again bounce harmlessly from him. You know his spell won't save him from you, though. Seconds after you set off Tarrand follows your example and a whole mob follows his. You run at the head of a full blown charge. Then a pinprick of light shoots from the magic carpet, over your head and into the centre of your comrades. You feel heat on your back and hear the screams of men burning. More fireballs shoot from the Flameslingers carpet, sending flames blasting through the milita along with the never-ending cannon fire. It's too much for them to take. Tarrand, singed but standing, is shouting something but he can't make himself heard over the panic. People are starting to scatter. Ahead of you, the caster shouts in his magically amplified voice "RETURN! TO YOUR HOMES! AND WAIT! FOR YOUR ORDERS!" Every pauses is punctuated by his monsterous servant's cannon. The steel beast is marching forwards now...leaving him exposed 20' behind it. You're running along but you're only 30' away. Now that you're close, you can see the figure's white hair, slender features and dark purple skin through the slits in his helm. You're facing a Drow.
"So of you or all of you are equally welcome. Follow me, sirs" The barkeep bearing the message leads away Odol, Gregory and anyone else who decides to head for the top level. They ascend up a wide flight of stairs. Expressive tapestries line the walls which muffle the music and chatter coming from below. You pass another large space which is partly filled by people (mostly couples, it seems) dining, and then finally reach the top of the stairs. Three doors lead off of the small landing you find yourselves on. One is opened for you and you are beckoned inside. Another, smaller bar is on the other side. You expect to smell purfume, cigar smoke and other scents of the rich but instead the air, though warm and dry, smells fresh and carries the faint scent of the forest. You suppose that in Delve the smell of fresh air is the surest sign of wealth. There are five tables in the room but only one - which sits by the window - is occupied. There are three men sat around it: A halfling with a strong build and faint healing-scars, a dwarf in more jewelry than you've seen on anyone in Delve so far and a half orc who, in stark contrast to the dignified Mrs Hettika, has bulk and ferocious tusks almost equal to those of a pure-blooded orc. All three of them wear fine, well cut clothing and are well into middle age. They are engrossed in quiet conversation and haven't yet noticed you enter. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Meanwhile, Vhailor and anyone else who chose to remain in the bar see that the band have dispersed. The half-elven singer and two of her gnome band-mates have come to the bar, whilst the other two gnomes stay on the low stage. They've pulled up a big trunk and seem to be setting up machinery of some sort. The barkeep pours the three their drinks without them having to order. One of the gnomes - the drummer - has wound up his stool next to Vhailor. Like the rest of his bandmates, his hair is dyed brightly (in his case florescent green) and he wears lightly coloured and somewhat tight clothing. Vhailor, you notice two things about him: first, whatever he uses to dye his hair smells a lot like the wierd fluids that bled from the construct you wrecked coming down from topside. Secondly, though everyone in Delve is pale this gnome's blue irises also look pale and faded. He's showing the first signs of Bleaching. He sips his drink and speaks to Vhailor: "Welcome to Delve! If the mud on your boots wasn't enough of a givaway, your enjoyment of the bar stood certainly was. The watchmen drinking over there tell me you and your team are the best kind of dangerous" -----------------------------------------------------------------------
The barkeep pulls a pair of pints for Damrang and Odol. He takes your tickers from you and uses a key to click down the provisions dial from 100 to 99. You can't really tell if that's good value or not. It's a rich ruby ale with a plesant flavour and, strangely, a faintly coppery aftertaste.
The barkeep smiles as Vhailor enjoys the stool. He answers the wizard's question: "We've got a bottle of wine back there, snatched from a Helix tent on a surface raid. 25 blocks will get you a glass, 100 blocks will net you the bottle." Another member of staff joins the barkeep pouring your drinks: "Evening sirs. There's a group of gentlemen in the third story lounge who'd like to meet you. I think they're down from the crown" He sounds slightly excited by this. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Obadiah, it's clear the machine itself is totally immune to mundane arrows. What's more, it seems to be doing an effective job of covering it's master from any that target him. Those that get by it are stopped by the spell which you're sure is protection from arrows. Someone will have to risk getting close to have a chance of felling him. With a roar the people of Iadenveigh charge across the field, ringing around the machine and sending volley after volley at it. Constant flashes of blue flare around the spellcaster and you think you see him recast his defensive spell at least once, maybe twice. As he does so the cannon of his guardian roars again but, though the blast still inflicts a tragic toll, the townsfolk have spread out and the damage is lessened. Suddenly the blue flares cease and you see arrows begin bouncing one by one from the figure's armour. Then, he staggers slightly as one wounds him. A cheer rises from the embattled mob, and it grows in volume as you see the magic carpet of the flameslingers soar into view over the rooftops.
The five of you walk into the warm interior of Amber Gardens. You enter shortly after the band strikes up a quick and merry tune. Their singer's voice can be clearly heard over it. She sings of young love and peaceful, shimmering caverns. There are four stairways leading out of the large bar area you find yourselves in. There are several large tables laid out, most of which have groups of people around them. A young-looking dwarf rises from the group nearest to you and walks over, drink still in hand. He's wearing part of the white uniform of the enforcers, though the jacket and helmet are gone and coller of the shirt is loosened: "You're that new merc outfit just down from the surface, right? Sig Delwin, at your service. Cradle enforcer division. If you guys are looking for more company, come join us once you've got your drinks." He gestures to a table where two other dwarves and a human, all of them clearly off-duty enforcers. They raise their glasses to you as you look in their direction as Sig goes back to join them. There are four people working on the bar, all of them in a simple uniform. One of them - an older human man - greets you as you approach and takes out a key. "Good shift, gentlemen. What'll it be?" Vhailor, you note that the place has been built to accomodate gnomes and halflings as well as larger folk. It looks like the stools in front of the bar and the chairs around the tables can be made to move up and down by pulling a lever under the seat, and there's a high, narrow step running the length of the bar that lets you stand sholder to sholder with your companions. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Obadiah, the smoke-spewing metal giant stomps towards the edge of Iadenveigh. Around you men and women are pouring into the street ready to defend their homes with bow or blade. In the haze behind the oncoming machine you can see a human-sized figure in armour and a long coat surrounded by a magical glow. It carries a small engine on it's back. Perception DC16:
The way the figure's arms flex in a slightly exaggerated give you the sense that, to some extent, it's guiding the machine like a puppet. Perception DC22:
You can see the mouth and chin of the spellcaster beneath the lense-eyed helmet. The jawline is thin and elegent and the skin is dark purple. The attacker is a Drow. An elegent male voice, amplified with magic, booms down over the clatter of steamworks and the shouts of the townsfolk: "IADENVEIGH, FROM THIS MOMENT YOUR FREEDOM IS AT AN END. RETURN TO YOUR HOMES AND WAIT FOR YOUR FIRST ORDERS! YOU HAVE ONLY MOMENTS TO DO AS I COMMAND!" There must be two hundred or more archers arrayed before him, and their answer is to fill the air with arrows. Obadiah, you release your own and with expert eyes track it through the swarm of shafts. It flies true, but disappears with a flash of blue light and a wisp of smoke as it reaches the humanoid figure. A dozen others are likeswise foiled. Many more strike the hulking war machine but bounce off it's armour like raindrops. The spellcaster walks briskly behind the machine, out of sight of the mob. It raises it's right arm, and you see a enormous gun slide into position with a clang. There's a crash of thunder and a deafening explosion scatters chunks of dirt and the shredded remains of two dozen of your fellow citizens across the field. Panic begins to set in and a handful of people flee back into their houses. Many more, though, listen to Tarrand as he screams over the din. "FORWARD! SPREAD OUT! SURROUND IT!"
You leave back down the stairs. You don't pass anyone until you get out onto the street. You begin to walk back towards the hoist, intending to go to the shrouded sun if you don't spot a suitable drinking hole along the way. You don't get far - a few hundred yards down the street you see a three story building with it's walls almost entirely made of large windows. A magically-glowing sign hangs over it's double-doored enterence: Amber Gardens. Through the windows bright light pours, illuminating tables of people drinking and chatting. You can see humans, dwarves and halflings amongst them. Through one of the ground floor ones you see a group of gnomes playing drums, pipes and stringed instruments and a half-elven woman singing. More importantly, you can see a sizable bar in there which doesn't look too crowded. As lavish as Amber Gardens may be, you can't help but notice that it's not the only pub on the main street. Further down towards the Hoist, you can see a more traditional pub sign illuminated by small glass-encased torches: The Resting Hammer. Knowledge (Religion) DC12: The hammer on the sign is positioned in the same manner as the holy symbol of Torag
Odol, from what you can tell Gregory hit the nail on the head. There's a faint aura of divination on the tickers similar to that of the blood biography spell - but only on those that have not yet had images etched onto them. The one that Damrang used is non-magical. The dials are adjusted via small keyholes. There is another, much more complex keyhole that appears to allow the device to be rewound. Over this keyhole is a wax seal bearing an intricate geometric design. These are clearly measures to stop the device being tampered with. Vhailor, each of the tickers is currently set to 100 - including the added weaponry dial.
I know the feeling. It is a bit of a wall - I wanted to get you guys into a position to start doing things rather than just putting up another post of you continuing to be talked at.
The carriage shoots out of the tunnel and onto one of the viaducts of Delve. The cluster of towers that forms Fort Pinnicle looms large ahead of you. You are swallowed by one of the brick-lined enterances on it's flank and shudder to a halt in the same gloomy station you were first carted into when you entered the hidden city. As you step off the cart Mrs. Hettika also disembarks: "I will file your citizenship papers now. I will see you again in four days. Thank-you again for everything you've done for Delve so far" With that she walks away down the platform. Private Karnekson moves the other way towards a large elevator at the far end. "Follow me, guys" Entering the elevator you're sent downward with a rumble of gears. The movement of the box lurches sideways for a few moments before clanging to a halt. The doors rumble open and you find yourselves in a huge, virtually empty hall. Dozens of elevator enterences ring the oval edge of the space, and great sets of double doors some 100' high dominate both ends. One set is firmly shut, whilst the other is slightly ajar - you can hear the clamour of the city through it. "This is where the troops training in the citadel enter and leave when the shifts change. This hall is packed three times a day. And when a regiment deploys, those inner doors are opened and a thousand men and their machines march out. It's a sight to behold, I can tell you" As it is, there are only five lonesome figures in the hall. Four of them have spindly limbs and thin plumes of steam rising from their backs - automata, though more clumsy looking and lacking the heavy armour of the ones you fought. The fourth is a young man in plain overalls. He and the machines all carry mops. "Good shift, Jurgan?" Karnekson calls out as he leads you towards the door "As good as ever, sir!" The man calls back before continuing his work. Karnekson remarks: "It's always useful to be friendly to the caretakers" As you're about to leave you see one of the constructs starts to limp, and it's engine labours slightly more loudly. Jurgan shouts something at it in a language you don't recognize and it freezes. He starts to walk towards it as you leave the chamber and step onto the wide streets of the Crown tier. This is the tier that is supposed to be where Delve worked spend their golden years. It does indeed seem rather plesant. Elegant horseless carriages puff by, and the occasional group of middle aged men and women stoll by you in outlandish and intricate clothing, chatting merrily. To your surpise, the street is dotted with green trees. They are baths in a golden yellow light the shines over the rooftops of spacious looking detatched houses. It's source is an orb too bright to look directly at that sits in the distance inside a complex glass structure lined rows of green vegatation. This must be the Shaded Sun. After fifteen minutes of walking you come to a wide plaza. At it's center is a hole in the surface of the tier through which four vast chains run. Each chain carries a stream of glass-sheathed platforms - two of them move upward, and two of them downward. Each chain is hemmed in by a pair of lesser elevators that rise fifty feet from the tier's surface. Whenever a platform rises or falls to be level with the surface of the tier, one of these elevators matches it's speed for about a minute until it reaches the limit of it's travel. It then moves up or down to it's starting position, leaving it's counterpart to move with the next chain-bound platform. "The loading lifts were only added a year ago. Before that, the Hoist was endlessly stopping and starting. It's far quicker and easier to ride now." You cross the plaza and climb a wide flight of stairs to the top of one of these loading lifts. The platform thuds into position in front of you half a minute after you reach the top. Walking onto it, you wait a whilst long before it starts to descend. The moment it does, the surface of the Hoist's platform is revealed, seperated from your own platform by a gap only a couple of inches wide. Karnekson steps over the threshold and you follow. A minute later the wall of the tier rises up behind you and cuts the loading lift from view. You are on your way. You descend for about fifteen minutes, down through the huges pipes and ducts of the Crucible tier. When you reach the next loading lift you are joined by a few dozen men and women in a variety of uniforms and half a dozen in what look like casual garments. The platform is filled but not uncomfortably so. Chatter surrounds you. A group of soot-covered men carrying heavy tools stands next to you. One of them looks over to you and says politely: "Welcome to Delve" There a murmer of assent from others around you. After that, the other passengers go back to talking amongst themselves. Most of them, along with yourselves, step off the Hoist platform at the next loading lift. You are carried down to street level and step out onto the Cradle tier. The cradle is much denser than the Crown. Flat-roofed houses run either side of the street in an unbroken line, punctuated only by much larger square towers that reach halfway to the tier above and by the collossal supports of the tiers themselves. You walk for another ten minutes. There are many more people on the pavements here and the vehicles that lumber down the roads are larger and burdened with obsidian, vats of water or piles of crates. It's busy, but it doesn't feel crowded. You come to a building that stands out from the others. It stands in one of the terrances but it's front is fully open and lined with a work surface like the bar of a tavern. Piles of crates can be seen in the room beyond. A queue of people is being served by five staff members of some sort. Karnekson opens a bag slung over his sholder and pulls out a small device. It takes the form of three sets of dials able to show numbers from 1 to 999. A fourth set of dials has been neatly riveted to one end, also with three digets displayed. "This is a block counter, known to most as a 'ticker'. Delve currency, for want of a better term, is the block. That's the value of one of those small chunks of obsidian that you saw Mrs. Hattika ignite. Most people have three allowances of blocks - one for food and drink from the Sun, one for furniture and tools from the Engine and one for enterance to shows at the Octagon, the Mirrorhall and other entertainments. As they spend their allowance these dials tick down. They're wound back up again every six days." He points to the fourth reel "That's exclusive to you guys. It counts your arms allowance. Because of your status as mercenaries with the right to leave Delve you're allowed to own your weapons, armour and wargear. Hence, you've got that counter to let you save for them. You won't be able to get military kit from an outlet like that one because security isn't tight enough. You'll have to go to Gisslerom Factory." He passes the counter in his hand to Vhailor, the takes more out of the bag and passes one to each of you. "Flip it over and you'll see a silver plate and a sharp stud. Prick your finger on that stud and your image will appear on the silver plate. That stops anyone else using your allowance. I was going to take you through through how the outlets worked, but there's just been the weekly rewinding so they're pretty busy. It's easy enough - just talk to one of the storekeepers" The soldier-come-tourguide checks a slip of paper and leads you to a tall, thin tower. He takes six keys out of his bag and hands each of you one of them before going through the door at the base of the tower. It isn't locked. You ascend flight after flight of stairs, passing nine floors and getting right to the top of the tower. Passing through another door you see find youself in a circular room with a large stove at the centre and four tables surrounding it. Ten doors lead out of the room in addition to the larger one that you came in through. "The room numbers are on the keys. Says here that the four other rooms are all occupied, so you'll be meeting your neighbors soon enough. I'm going to leave you all to it - the Helix Order won't wait. Be in that enterence hall in Fort Pinnicle in three days and twenty hours time. You need to get into lift sixteen. Until then, enjoy your new hometown." He leaves, closing the door behind him. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----- "Sirs, Madam, I am Olivia Kerrow, First Adept of the Helix Order fifth conclave. We are a mercenary regimate beseiging the structure you know as the choking tower, which is in fact the chimney of an underground city filled with the withered, brainwashed servants and ever-turning machines of Farkus Xoud." This little revelation results in raised eyebrows but the concil keep their composure. Olivia continues in the same dejected monotone: "To fight this war we need to buy in spell components, scrolls, potions, ammo, food and everything else a regiment at war needs. We weren't getting the funding we needed from our employers but the bonus on offer for victory made it worth looking for...other revenue streams" "It's complicated to explain, but the nature of Delve's war machines means we have an abundance of obsidiance chunks and bits of scrap machinery. This can't be carted to nearby towns and sold, but my superiors - NOT me, I'm just a foot soldier - hit on the idea of staging undead attacks on Iadenveigh and having one of our recon units collect funds from you for stopping them. The attacks were strung out just enough to keep them dangerous but managable." "That's the whole truth. I'll answer any questions you have. I don't want to die" There's stunned silance. Bordana breaks it, and her voice is almost a whisper as she keeps her rage in check: "I see. Well then. Now that the attacks have stopped, it seems the 'Flameslingers' are no longer required. Time the get RID of them" Tarrend turns to her "We need to be careful. These imposters are powerful enough to kill many of our own if we don't set thing up right. We should call a meeting, get them in a room away from their carpet and hemmed in on all sides. Then we can reveal their secrets and let the townsfolk do the rest." Kelt doesn't take is eyes off Olivia "I'll be at the head of them. Huron is mine. Obadiah, you say we should spare this woman the rope? WHY?" Obadiah, before you can answer the door of the hall slams open. One of the men whom you recognize from the contingent guarding the bridge stands there panting for breath. "I have to interrupt...there something come from the east...plume of steam and smoke..." Bordana draws her knife "I'll watch her. The rest of you go, now!" Obadiah, you run with Kelt and Tarrand into the town square and up the central street. You round a bend and see the bridge in the distance, several fields after the buildings end. Something has come to a halt in front of it. It looks like a fortified barn has been built onto iron wheels and driven across the countryside. Steam rises from it and you can see the unnatural motion of the machinery jutting from it's rear half. The doors at it's prow are open, and a figure charges out. At this distance you can't make out what it is but you can tell it's larger than a troll. It crashes over the bridge and, with a crash audiable from where you stand, breaks through the barricade without slowing.
"Thank you. In that case...Karnekson, trigger the charges" The soldier pulls the lever in his hand and there's a deafening crack followed by the roar of falling stone. Dust briefly fills the gas-lit chamber and when it settles, the way to the surface is sealed. Private Karnekson smiles in satisfaction "No twists or wreckers will be passing this way for a while" He jumps into the carriage and assumes the controls. The thing lurches into motion and, with the now-familiur rhythmic chugging, starts to roll. Mrs Hettika has move to a small metal table at the back of the carriage and has begun filling out paperwork - presumably bringing new citizens into Delve involves a certain amount of beauracracy. As a result, it's Thell who talks to you at the tunnel walls hurtle by. "You've been given the big picture, now I'll give you the specifics. We're heading for Fort Pinnicle, but we're not actually going anywhere in the citadel yet because Sergeant Scuttle is up to his ears trying to get a new platoon of artillerymen into fighting shape in record time. Once he's done there he'll be back to handling the mercenary contingent, which at this time consists of you, Locke's team and the Ganthum brothers. Not exactly an army - you'll get to know them soon enough, I'm sure." "The point is, at this time you're not in the system which means you're not going to get a whole lot of attention. Which means we're going to let you loose in Delve for a few days. Best way of getting a handle on the city is to live in it. I'll show you to some spare houses, show you how to claim your goods, and that'll be it. Four days of free time. I envy you!" he laughs to himself "After that, you'll be ready to report to Pinnicle for your first mission - and your first visit to the armoury. It'll be just as exciting as the raid you just pulled off, I'm sure." He gets a bit more serious "A quick tip, though. Delve is plesant and well-policed for the most part, but with the military and the watch stretched thin by the war bit of it have started to become kind of lawless. The neighborhoods marked in red on that map - which is yours, by the way, grab it on the way out - are best avoided." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Obadiah, for a few seconds it looks like the gang of defenders is going to attack Olivia but Kelt shouts them off: "Calm down lads, I reckon there's more going on here than we know. Get those gates open - I reckon we won't be needing them for now! And someone go tell Bordana and Tarrend there's good news to be heard at the hall!" The other men have great respect for Kelt and they do indeed back off, moving back and starting to partially dismantal the barricade to let you through. They don't tear it down entirely - it pays to be cautious in Numeria. Kelt talks to you more quietly. "I bet you were looking forward to a hero's welcome on the long march back, but we'd better go to the hall through the copses rather than the main street. If too many people see you with a prisoner, they might - you know - forget themselves." The two of you head into Iadenveigh and through the dirt paths the loop round the outskirts of the town. It looked dismal in the rain but in the pale mid-day sun the thatched houses and green fields - the efforts of hard working farmers in this otherside barren land - look quite beautiful. You reach the hall where you were first briefed. The two other community leaders are already there, standing in the center of the large wooden space beneath well-carved beams. Sunlit windows cut diagonal pillers through the dust. "Obadiah!" Bordana smiles for the first time in Erastil knows how long "It's been over half a day and no attacks. People are starting to dare to hope you've succeeded. Tell us, what happened in those benighted woods? And who is your..." her sunny demenour turns sour as she looks at Olivia "...companion?"
"Ah yes, of course. I forgot how important religion is to you outsiders. Most people of Delve has little interest in it, though you will find many practitioners of the Green Faith thanks to our relationship with the druids who tend to the shrouded sun. Other than that, a handful of adherants to each of the most widely spread religions can be found somewhere in the city - people who managed to keep their faith alive through their time as slaves to the Drow, and those they bought into the fold after Xoud liberated them." "I know there is a small group of Sarenrae's faithful amongst the stonemasons of Girderoot. I'm sorry to say that I have never heard of the Whisper in Bronze." Private Karnekson, who had been quietly watching the tunnel enterence, adds: "The watch will keep their eye on you if you buy into one of those basement faiths. Yes there's no law against worshipping the god of torture or destruction or whatever, but just give us an excuse and you'll be behind bars"
Kelt - Kellid ranger and member of the council who first briefed you - is on the battlements along with a number of other familier faces from the town. The big man calls down: "By the stag, you made it! We've had no attacks for over twelve hours - did you cut the foul tide at it's source?" As you get closer he sees Olivia's bound hands and defiant expression "IS THAT THE FIEND'S WENCH RESPONSIBLE FOR ALL THIS!?" Weapons are drawn again and, one by one, the Iadenveigh militiamen clamber down the barricade and walk towards you. With Kelt in the lead they make for Olivia, who mutters: "So these are the 'innocent villagers' we've been preying on" -------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Thank you, both of you. Vhailor - I think I'll stick with just Vhailor from now on - you are welcome to visit the Jackworks, see them in action and even study the secrets of constructing automata. If you can make head or tail of them more the better. We need artificers as much as we need soldiers." "What about the rest of you? Will you stay and help Delve make it through these trying times?"
Obadiah and Olivia make good time out of the forest. As minutes become hours the captured First Adept stops searching about for signs of rescue and resignedly follows the preacher back towards his hometown. She refuses to speak with him, and even if he was inclined to Obadiah hasn't got the time to stop and beat more information out of her now that Salvin isn't arounf to protect her. Hence a day of silent marching passes. Twice the pair hear the distant shrieks of the undead. The second time Olivia screams for them to come and kill her and her captor, but Obadiah manages to keep her quiet from then on and finds a good enough hiding spot to evade the monsters when they come looking for living meat. The pack passes, and the Obadiah follows it out of the forest and back towards his home. They spend the first night in the sky-ruins again. This time Obadiah finds a strong shelter that's high atop an easily defensible ridge of metal and, unlike the least 'refuge' he found here, as dead as stone. In the middle of the night, the zombies find him. He awakens to hear their cries, and sees that Olivia is sitting at the enterance to their metal shelter watching without comment as the undead approach. A pack of eight corpses assails the ridge. Obadiah stands his ground. From his perfect defensive position shot after shot flies true, and only a single zombie has to be dispatched with his sickle. One man and his faith against eight monsters, and only a prisoner to witness it. The next day they make it back to the corn fields and deserted farmhouses. Obadaih leads Olivia from structure to structure, keeping as hidden as possible - she resists him less than she did the day before. It's become clear her suicidal behavior from the day before is down to her belief that she will be executed in Iadenveigh. Obadiah knowns this will indeed be the case unless he goes out of his way to prevent it. Hours pass, but no zombies appear. No cries are heard. The raid have been like clockwork up until now, but for an entire day Obadiah encounters no more undead. He dares to hope that his companions have succeeded. The Flameslinger patrols continue. Olivia doesn't expect them to rescue her - to do so would mean blowing their cover, and she knows her life is worth less than the Iadenveigh protection racket. Nonetheless, Obadiah waits for the carpet to finish one of it's passes and return to town to pick up fresh riders. The halflings atop it are no doubt wondering where their targets are. The preacher of Iadenveigh then breaks cover and walks back toward the bridge he helped defend three nights ago. There's commotion on the barricade as he approaches, but then he hears cheers.
"Yes, Mr. Nightshard, more twists. The continue to batter at the 'Choking Tower', as I know you have come to call it. You will be expected to perform one mission per week - the rest of that time can be spent training and, if necessary, recuperating." "It's worth noting that if you were born in Delve you would not have the option of leaving once you have taken up a role like this. In your case, however, you will still be able to leave if you choose. You have lives on the surface - it would be unfair to demand you give them up completely." "The last time you were in a carriage like this, you were forced in at gunpoint. Now, you are welcome to return to the surface. The ruins at the end of that tunnel are fairly near the edge of the forest - it will be easy enough for you to leave without encountering Helix patrols. On behalf of Delve, though, I ask..." She sighs "...I beg you to stay"
Mrs Hettika begins what turns out to be a full lecture. She explains everything with the clarity of a professional educator, and with a clear hint of enthusiasm. She's obviously proud of her home city: "Delve's adult population of 40,000 is split into four shifts. Each shift works 8 hours a day with four days on, two days off. This means the 'engines' of Delve are perpetually running. These engines are five huge facilities that are each vital to the city's survival." "Fort Pinnicle is the nexus of Delve's defences. It serves as the barracks of it's army and is linked directly to the weapon factories in the Crucible by secure tramlines." "Girderoot Guildhall is where the city's artisans are based. This corps of smiths, stonewrights and mechanics works all over the city including in the other four engines – only a fraction of them are actually in the workshops of the Guildhall on their shifts crafting spare parts for coming jobs." "The Providence Engine is our greatest factory. It uses magical machines to produce a huge variety of tools, clothes, furniture...everything the city's population needs to live and work comfortably. You can find every grade of worker here, from highly skilled craftsmen to less skilled – but still vital! - production line workers." "The Shaded Sun and it's cabal of druids feeds and waters the city. The cages ball of sunlight nestling at the center of it's spherical glasshouse is the most beautiful sight in the city. It can almost feed everyone on it's own, but really it needs to be suplemented by the fruits of the forest above." "The Terminus is both the base of the Hoist and a hub of resource gathering - primarily fertilizer, ore and the all-important obsidian. All the city's sewers terminate here and all the material mined in the Fissues is carted here for processing." "Overseer Xoud has built Delve as a machine to generate prosperity. It would be nearly perfect, were it not surrounded by forces bent on destroying it. Everyone has a place in Delve. Every year we have the Relay Festival, where workers who have begun their retirement are given apprentices to train as their replacements. These apprentices are drawn from the pool of graduates who are produced each year by the city's schools." "The higher a child achieves in their tests the more say they have over where they are placed. First rate students get to choose not only their engine but also their role, and may be offered an exclusive role if they are talented enough. Second rate students can choose the engine they are to work at, and third rate students must content themselves with what they are given. There's also what we call the right of succession in place – a worker begining retirement can always choose to take one of his own children on as a replacement." "A worker completes their retirement after a set number of years of training their apprentice. This period varies from role to role – a miner may only spend a single year retiring, whilst an artificer could spend half his working life training his replacement." "Once a worker has retired they are given a home in the Crown. Retirement is a glorious affair – a worker who has finished his labours is rewarded with greater luxury and leisure time than he has ever experienced before. That is not to say that the life of a worker isn't unplesant. The standard of living in Delve is far beyond what is the norm in the outside world. Good food, spacious houses and other luxuries are all provided by the city, and even more rewards are sometimes granted to those who excel." "When you become citizens, you will be given a role as soldiers of Fort Pinnicle. You will be given homes in the Cradle and your cut of the fruits of the Providence Engine. On top of this, you will be given the tools needed to ply your trade, which in your case will be weapons and armour. Given your specialized skills, you will be kept as one unit and operate as special forcesm a step apart from the rank and file grenadiers." "Ephvhailordrinkbitzle , you will soon be paying a visit to Gisslerom Gun Factory firsthand to choose your armaments. As the name suggestes, it is where the weapons of delve are made. Not just guns – cannon, blades and bombs are all built there. There is even an elite band of spellforgers based there able to imbue a select few weapons with magical power."
You collapse the shelves onto one another and douse them with your alchemist's fire. Whilst the blaze does not incinerate all the bodies (ten full vials of fire do cremate about half ot them though) it does heat the pile of the dead until it steams. This heat will speed the decay of the bodies - any replacement necromancer the Helix manages to find will only have a week or so before the 'raw materials' here are useless. When they signed up to fight, these soldiers probably imagined a more dignified send-off were they to fall. As it is, it's either this or being defiled with animate dead. This is definately the lesser of two evils. Gruesome work done you set off down the tunnel. It's virtually identical to the one you travelled down before, but lacks the deadly steam traps lining the walls. It looks older as well, and in places it looks to have been built along the path of a much more ancient underground passageway. After fifteen minutes of walking you hear the rhythmic chug of steam that signifies Delve technology. The tunnel curves, and when you round the corner you see a small platform with one of those steam-carriages parked beside it. Two figures stand at it's door. Surprisingly, both are familier. You recognize Mrs. Hettika, the half-orc witch who delivered your initial questioning. Next to her is Captain Kreigson's second bodyguard (the one whom Salvin did not mark as evil). It's he that speaks first: "Frak, it's good to see you all alive! Looks like you're one of the first strokes of luck we've had for a while. Get into the carriage, please. I need to collapse that tunnel. Private Thell Karnekson, by the way. At your serivce." As you leave the mouth of the tunnel, you see barrels of gunpowder are piled up around it linked to a lever Thell holds in his hands. Mrs Hettika looks over at him and (for for the first time you've seen) smiles slightly "Hold fire a second private. They might be needing that tunnel one last time." She turns back to address you all "You've been approved to be offered citizenship of Delve. Now, pretty much everything you know of us so far has been shouted at you through the bars of a cage or at gunpoint. That's not much to make a decision on. I've got a map and a few other odds and ends set up in that carriage that will let me paint a proper picture. After that, you can make an informed decision as to whether you want to come with us or head back to the surface" With that, she leads you into the carriage
It's worth noting that there are a dozen flameslingers stationed in Iadenveigh, and all of them routinely cast scorching ray to fight off the zombie attacks. Many of you - Damrang especailly, given he's lived under their protection for a while - will realize that a pitched battle against the Flameslingers will, at this stage, only go one way. I am certainly not vetoing a return to Iadenveigh. I just want to make it clear that some care will be required.
Vhailor - sure thing. It won't be easy, but you can have a crack at learning the machine language. The next story segment requires a bit of prep, so I'll be a few days before my next post. You've reached the end of the 'railroad' so from here I was to start giving you control of the story. This requires mapping and suchlike.
Gregory and Vhailor: You won't be able to learn the ignition cantrip upon level up, but you will be able to keep that slot 'free' so that you can learn the spell if you can find someone to teach it to you. Vhailor: firearms do still require exotic weapon proficiency.
There's no sign of a true crane - they must have meant the hand-winched elevator.
Over the next 10 minutes you quciky and efficiently wreck the place. The elevator chain is severed and the winch smashed. One of the shelves is set ablaze with the alchemist's fire. The ladders in the upper levels are cut apart. The damage isn't that extensive, but you think it won't matter. You've killed the necromancer. He was the real source of Iadenveigh's woes, not these ruins. In the upper chamber where you fought the half-orcs, you discover two sacks of machined obsidian chunks. They could be worth something, and are not too difficult to carry. With these and the rest of your loot in hand you descend into the hidden passageway. It's dark for a few dozen feet, but then you find a valve and gaslights flare into life, revealing a ruler-straight shaft leading ever downward. As you leave the now smoke-filled chamber you all realize that, though you future in Delve is uncertain and this war still rages, you have succeeded in what you set out to do. You've save Iadenveigh and battled your way past enough horrors to
The spell was Murderous Command. It's a cleric spell - the necromancer had one cleric level, worshipping Zom Kuthon. I thought it added a little flavour. The rat skull on the chain was his focus.
Vhailor and Gregory have a brief discussion of the contents of the mysterious vial. Detect Magic has shown it to have a moderate aura of transmutation, leading them to believe that these liquids are what allow a Delve construct to reason and react to the world. Since only the primary coloured liquids were present in the automata the party fought on the bridge, and given the smaller quntity of the pearl-like solution, it is likely that this substance is some sort of optional enhancement to the 'mind' of a construct. You suspect it will be worth a great deal in Delve - either that, or trading it will be illegal. These ruins are very old and, at least below the surface, have withstood the passage of time. There is no easy way to bring them down. The gunpowder available in Delve could do it but it would take about a hundred pounds of the stuff and an hour or so to set it up. It's damp in the crypt and the corpses are not dry. They won't burn easily without a large supply of alchemist's fire. Vhailor, the twin-barrelled rifle the necromancer used is standard Delve issue (), probably taken from a dead soldier. The necromancer did have thirty sets of powder and shot for it - it was seemingly his primary weapon.
You begin to search the room. Odol immediately finds what he thinks is the secret door, and spends a couple of minutes trying to pry it open before realizing it's just a loose block. The necromancer carries a longsword and a healer's kit (clearly not used on the living). In his belt, though, you find a Wand of Cure Light Wounds with 45 charges left. You wonder what use such an item would be to someone kept secure in a basement who deals only with the dead. Then, however, you remove his elvish-looking headband. It changes before your eyes into a plain-looking cap - clearly a Hat of Disguise. As it is removed the evil elf's features do not change, but ugly scars fade into view across every inch of his body. They're the result of years of repeated self harm and magical healing. Lastly, you remove the wizard's spell book: Contents of necromancer's spell book:
Level 1 Cause Fear Ray of Enfeeblement Floating Disc Alarm Mount Unseen Servant Level 2
Level 3
Level 4
In one corner of the room, next to the winch-wheel, there's a workbench with a corpse laid out on it. The brain has been scooped out and a chunk of gearbox riveted in it's place. A pile of similar wrecked machinery stands next to the workbench - it Delve machinery, so might be worth something in a market elsewhere in Glorian by dint of it's exotic design and complexity. You doubt it's worth lugging it back to Delve, though. However, in one of the draws of the bench you find four jars. Three of them each contain a litre of fluid - one is red, one yellow and one blue. Vhailor recognizes them as more of the liquids that leaks from the automata you destroyed. The last jar is much smaller, about 100ml. It contines a similar translucent liquid to the others, but this one is as white as snow. Now that the danger in the room has passed you look again at the bodies that fill the room. For the first time, free for immediate danger, you see them not as zombies and bodies but as young men and women killed in war. Gregory, you find a 5' square door perfectly camoflaged just behind the area the dire hyena zombie fell. You manage to lever it open and see a dark, well made corridor down a short metal stairway.
Damrang's living muscles aren't faring much better. As the last of his minions holds the ranger off, the necromancer takes another swing at Salvin:
He rams the blade past Salvin's guard and into the paladin's gut, but his splint mail holds against the strike.
Salvin whirls his blade round and brings it down in a sweeping overhead chop. There's nothing the enemy wizard can do to stop it, and it carves deep into his sholder leaving one arm dangling uselessly. His still grips his sword in the other, and grins at the pain. The remaining zombie flails on:
The relentless assault is clearly taking a toll on it's rotten muscles, and Damrang easily swats it's blows aside.
Another of the foul monsters is cut down. Whilst the dorn derger smashed organs and muscles that were rotten to nothing anyway, the axe lops off limbs and heads and instantly stops the undead.
Zombies
The zombies close in on Damrang, swiping at him with their bony fists DM only:
I'm fudging that, these things have had enough luck. I made this encounter too difficult for a level 2 party.
Damrang blocks one blow with his axe but the other crashes into his face:
Meanwhile, the necromancer brings up his sword and guides Salvin's heavier blade away from him. He steps forward with the poise of a fencer and strikes back, keeping one hand free:
Despite his apparent training his swing is slow and it clangs harmlessly against Salvin's greatsword as he hauls it back onto the defence.
Damrang carves down another zombie, leaving only two to menace Odol. The necromancer apparently sees his ruse is played out. "Kill the one attacking with the axe!" Then, he draws a plain-looking sword and faces Salvin "I will see to it that your corpse is kept intact"
The Paladin's attack takes Vhailor completely by surprise, cut into the small of his back and damaging his spine. He's thrown a foot forward by the impact and lands in a bleeding heap.
Salvin, the spell is broken the moment your blade strikes.
Damrang hacks down one of the three zombies, carving it's head open with two blows. The necromancer backs away as Salvin rushes towards him. He points at Vhailor as the gnome tries to shock him, and shouts: "My crimes are grave, but they pale compared to the atrocities this fiend has committed! Strike him down! Do your duty!"
That's good to hear. I'm sure he'll make a fantastic dad.
Update Initiative Order
Once Salvin acts, we will begin round 7. The zombies will still have their action readied to attack Odol, so Damrang will be the first to act.
"Ga!...nah!" The elf staggers dizzily, eyes tightly shut, after Vhailor's spell hits him. It seems the gnome's gambit worked as the zombies do not react. They just keep staring blankly at Odol.
Damrang strides past the struggling wizard and slams his weapon into the chest of a zombie. Vile liquid sprays over the floor as it's rib cage shatters. The blow would have instantly killed it - had it been alive. As it is, it remains standing.
Salvin, Vhailor and Damrang charge through the gloom towards their target. As they bear down on him the evil wizard shouts at the zombies: "Devour the cripple the moment I am struck!" In response, the corpses stagger to Odol's prone form and slump to their knees, grasping at his limbs and kneck and bearing rotten teeth. The necromancer turns to the three of you: "Not another step, cretins!"
The four zombies sway unsteadily on the spot, low groans occasionally escaping from their lulling mouthes. It seems they have completed whatever simple instructions they were given, and are now reliant upon further commands from the necromancer. Vhailor, as you close with the necromancer you get a better look at him. He wears his robe open at the front, and his pallid chest is covered in burns and brand-marks - some old, some fresh. Despite this, his face is still a portrait of elvish beauty. On one sholder he wears a poldron bearing the Helix Order insignia, and strung round his kneck on a thin chain is a rat's skull. He has a large book strapped to his back. Knowledge (religion) DC13:
The way the chain is threaded through the eye sockets of the skull betray it as a symbol of Zon Kuthon, the horrific god of misery and torture. Whilst the necromancer is clearly a wizard, not a cleric, he obviously venerates the vile deity.
Odol, you slam one blow away with your shield but them you feel clammy hands on your kneck and a savage blow to the back of your head. Then everything goes black.
Salvin and Damrang, you watch your comrades fall through the gap in the grizzly shelving. They've been overwhelmed, but they've cut off the Necromancer's escape route. The fate of Iadenveigh will be decided in the next thirty seconds.
Salvin, you are knocked back to consiousness by the gouges in your flesh forcing themselves shut. You're far from whole but you're ready to get back in the fight. At the other end of the chamber, Gregory is in a much worse way. The Necromancer raises his musket one again, aiming it at Vhailor. You see that it's the double barrelled weapon of a Delve grenadier, and one barrel has yet to be fired. There's the crack and puff of powder smoke...
...and as the wizard ducks aside the shot slashes past, inches from his ear. Rock splinters fly from the wall behind him.
Map (Turn 4 after Zombies move) Some of the zombies interpret the necromancer's pained curses as orders to kill Odol. Two of them move away from Gregory, who takes punishes one for turning it's back:
He doesn't land a solid blow, hamped by the other two undead still clawing at him. The two zombies going for Odol are too cumbersome to attack immediately but the two fighting Gregory strike again:
With mindless ferocity, they batter him unconsious!
Gregory, your earthbreaker slams into the zombie's skull, caving it in and snapping it's kneck clean in half. Despite this, it lulls sideways but does not quite fall. The blow is enough to distract it as Odol ducks past, however. Odol, the next zombie you pass DOES strike at you. It half falls, half lunges at you and it's exposed skull slams into you head with the force of a hammer. You stagger, your ears ringing and blood running into your eyes. Blackness hovers at the edge of your vision but you make it to the ratchet and kick it out.
The lift plummets downwards. The Necromancer is unprepared for the fall and bounces like a thrown doll before slamming to the floor. You can hear the villianous elf moaning in pain - he's prone, but not out the fight. Vhailor, the looming zombie sways aside from your spell and it merely hits it's rotten flank. It leave a scorch mark but does not bring down the creature. You do, however, manage to enrage it. It steps forwards and tries to snap at you. It's jaws look like they could bite you in half. As it does so, though, it leaves itself open to another blow from Damrang:
Moments before it strikes there is a sickening crunch and the red fires in it's eyes are snuffed out. The great beast is finally freed from undeath as it's back is snapped by the dorn-derger.
Indeed, congratulations Vhailor. Best reason I've ever heard for posting less :)
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