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Armolas nodded. "The wounded panther could not have wandered far with its injuries." The ranger knelt and inspected the floor. "This way!" The elf led to the wall of the passage, the drops of blood leading to what must be a secret door. The ranger searched the panel, revealing it to simply pivot on a central spoke. "Be ready with the ring. A wounded beast can be unpredictable." He put his shoulder to the secret door.
Egspen knows the Woldenvell to be a group of four powerful nature spirits, one for each of the four main elements. Enemies of all that would disrupt the natural order of the life-death cycle. The markings indicate the ring is attuned to The Red Lady, a figure associated with animal summoning and control. A drop of blood typically creates a bond between ring bearer and any natural beast - at least if the host is found worthy.
Egspen searched his memory.
The elf studied the ring carefully. "The runes are old indeed but their meaning is clear enough. In the ancient tongue of the Woldenvell, they say. "By Moonlight's Silver and Sun's Purest Fire, bound by the ash of Islandroot's pyre. Fear not the touch of shadow or the kiss of fell flame, even the beasts serve when you utter my name." The elf held out the ring. "A potent talisman. Though it does not reveal it's name."
Renewed study revealed the ring to actually be two - a silver band and a golden one bound together with a thin divider of dark wood. Worn runes too faint for human eyes marked the central band. Armolas and Redclaw worked together to force the mechanism of the fireplace open - aware of the minutes passing as they shoved and pulled. At last it shifted enough for the companions to squeeze through into a torch-lit hallway beyond. A torn scrap of the Rahib's dark robe spoke of his flight forward while a few drops of blood hinted he had fled in the other direction.
"He is wounded with one panther slain and another in the wind. This is our best chance to finish the evil of the Rahib. What should we do?" Redclaw Squawked.
The birdman agreed, and the heroes carefully studied the rooms contents, discovering notes of one of Whitestave's ciphers - something involving wine bottles and their coded labels. A further search revealed studies on a mystical artifact - an ornate medallion of silver with a dark jewelled center. The searches also discovered a second secret door built into the far fireplace - though where it led remained a mystery.
The Rahib snarled in anger. "You think you've won?" "You are too late. Two have awakened. Only the third remains. I shall return with your doom." The evil priest rushed to the wall and twisted a torch sconce, vanishing into the secret passage that opened. The wall slammed shut as quickly as it had opened and a loud, metallic clank resounded. Redclaw flew to the wall and twisted the sconce - perplexed as it and a length of metal rods and hinges came with it. "He broke it. He's escaping."
Redclaw attacked in a frenzy. 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14
Stricken, the panther recoiled, racing from the chamber. The Rahib dropped the magical silence, calling after the wounded great cat in a fury.
Wait. Egspen is AC 8? If so that claw hit it did 3 hp. The other missed. Panther claw attack Egspen: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8Claw Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 3
The panthers bite downed Galamiel with 5 damage. Panther Bite attack Galamiel: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15Bite Damage: 1d8 ⇒ 5 Did I miss something?
Armolas fired an arrow at the evil priest, the missile defeated by the clerics magical mail.
It doesn't look good, TBH.
The Rahib gleaned Egspen's plan in an instant, racing the mage to plant a solid kick on the sleeping panther before the magic user could slay his lethal pet. The panther rose to it's feet, shaking off the effects of the spell. The panther turned its fury on Egspen and Galamiel, raking and biting. The elf staggered back and fell, his throat torn out by the beast in a silent shower of gore.
Round 2 The Rahib's Lair
Albur and Armolas toppled to the floor as the Rahib's spell took hold. The panthers followed, rendered asleep by Egspen's magic. Redclaw hurled a dagger at the evil cleric, the blade turned aside by magical armor. The birdman flapped skyward and landed beside the Rahib with claw knives drawn.
Galamiel knelt and quickly slit the throat of the panther who wounded him earlier. "I am sorry, but you are too dangerous as a tool of evil. Go now, and hunt free in the realms beyond." The Rahib spoke a word of magic and all noise vanished. He turned towards Egspen and sneered, raising his lethal mace.
Egspen twisted the stone eye once more until The image of the Rahib in his lounge reappeared. The companions readied themselves and the magic-user quickly opened the door. The stone eye flared and the world spun, depositing the adventurers into the lounge itself in a chaotic flare of raw magic. The Rahib leapt to his feet, reaching for the cruel mace at his side. Two sleek panthers lying beside his chair revealed lethal fangs and they roared in warning. The magical ring thrummed, translating the great cats noises "Bird. Meat. Kill." One of the panthers rushed toward Redclaw, pouncing in a flurry of ripping claws and tearing teeth. The avian dodged aside, narrowly avoiding the beasts attacks.
The second rushed towards Armolas and Galamiel, tearing at the pair of elves.Galamiel staggered back, bleeding from the claw wounds in his chest.
The Rahib raised one black-gloved hand and pointed to Albur. "Your foolish devotion to light will not save you from the darkness to which I will send you." Dark magic wrapped around the priest as The Rahib clenched a fist.
Armolas moved backwards, reaching for his quiver. An arrow streaked towards The Rahib, barely penetrating his cloak and enchanted chainmail.
DM Screen:
A tingle flowed through Egspen's hand and a vision flooded his mind - a hallway scene wreathed in curtains just like those around him. Witchfire sconces lent the hall a dim light, revealing a pair of Siswa stood at the halls far end, seemingly set as guardians. The mage twisted the stone eye and the scene changed - resolving into an ornate study with a crackling fireplace. A dark-haired man sat before the flames in a throne-like chair, reading from a thick tome. A great black panther nuzzled his gloved hand, receiving rough pets in exchange. The visions faded.
Armolas began to pull the curtains aside but then froze before uncovering the door fully. "An eye is affixed to the door. A stone eye." Egspen saw at once that the anomaly was one of the fountain statues missing pieces - now set at chest height on the closed door revealed. The wood elf drew a dagger, tensing. "Are we undone? Might The Rahib cast his gaze through such a thing?"
A short length of stair linked a square landing to a second span leading upwards to the pulpit above. A podium of pale stone sat on the pulpits edge, its surface thick with dust. Heavy curtains of deep green covered the back walls of the space, forming a shadowed backdrop to anyone deigning to speak at the platform. Directly below, the defaced fountain reached nearly to the pulpits railing. Armolas disappeared behind the curtains for a moment before reappearing. "A hidden doorway."
The heroes soon returned to the Temples front doors - still ajar. Darkness and silence awaited beyond the portals. Waiting. Armolas lit a torch and passed it the Albur. "Fear no darkness. We are the light that pierces the gloom heart. Lead the way." The woodland elf nocked an arrow while the Grey Scout did the same. The strange birdman slipped curved metal claws over his hands, strapping them securely in place with leather throngs. "Redclaw ready.'
The Red-haired elf looked at the magic-user for a long moment. "My knives and arrows are sharper than my ears but less sharp than my eyes. The Grey has warded the north since time immemorial and it is my honor to be counted among them. I answer the call of my cousins in hope of seeing what mettle the elves of the south reaches possess." The birdman spread his wings and clacked his razor beak in greeting. "Elyas make birdman. Serve Elyas. Come help Elyas. Who you?" he croaked.
"If you think they may be swayed to our cause, the more allies we bring to bear against the Rahib and his evil, the better. Should they prove false, however, let swift justice be done. "
The elven lord- now wearing a crown of woven branches and bird feathers, raised a goblet in honor of the heroes as they gathered in the great fest hall. Rahasia had traded her leathers for a gossamer gown of pale green - her hair braided, each tress tipped with feathers like her fathers crown. She smiled warmly at the heroes as her father spoke. "I have called in our remote scouts and set traps along the routes to our village. Our avian allies watch from the air and will alert us of any approaching danger. Two of our allies join us even now." A pair of figures stepped forward, cloaked and shrouded. One lowered his hood to reveal sharp features and pointed ears, his red hair shaved to the scalp on one side and left long and tightly braided on the other while the second figure revealed a hawk's beak and large, glaring eyes atop a feathered body strapped with bandoliers of knives and daggers. The feathered cloak revealed themselves to be wings, held tight around the figures body. "These worthies are Galamiel of the Grey Scouts and Redclaw of the Risen Wingfolk. They will join you in your quest to defeat the evils of the Rahib and his forces. Have you questions?"
The woodland elf agreed. "Let us take council with the guardian and then return to the village to relay all that we have learned to Rahasia's father and see if he can break the Rahib's hold on the Siswaru we freed." "We should return the riches he stored as well. They are not safe here while the Rahib remains." The companions stealthily returned to the lower tunnels and returned to the hidden halls of the Temple guardian. The celestial serpent's potent magic soon washed away the worst of the heroes wounds and led them in a prayer for the soul of their fallen companion.
So emboldened, the companions returned to the elven village, Rahasia rushing ahead to envelop her father in a tight embrace. The elven leader reacted with surprise as the contents of his vault were laid at his feet and the tale was told. "i am saddened by the loss of your friend and offer you the hospitality of our home. Rest and restore your strength. We shall take council when you are ready."
Egspen moved into the torchlight and scanned the journals entries. "The Rahib had brought 15 skilled mercenaries with him, losing 8 in battles with the serpentine guardian of the temple, elven warriors of the forest, and magical traps before finding his goal. He had also brought a pair of ferocious panthers with him, beasts he named Pain and Suffering. His goal at hand, the mercenaries were all but dismissed, replaced by the dominated Siswaru elves. When thw two kidnapped elven maidens reappered by The Rahib's side, they were much changed - eyes of black without pupils, and raspy, terrible voices. Grumbling among the mercenaries began, low at first but growing in volume as the survivors realized their employer had much darker plans than he had indicated. The mercenary leader, a man named Hassam, demanded an audience with the Rahim. He did not return. The mercenaries grew increasingly desperate as they became disoriented in the teleportation mazes of the lower temple. Finally, the journals unknown author won free, the last entry vowing to return with help to save his trapped brethren. That was four days ago." The clearing of the barricade takes somne time, but, once done, the double doors swing open freely to reveal an earthen path leading to the temple and the elven forest beyond. The roadside shrine stands beside the path ahead while the graveyard sits just to the right of the temple itself, only a dozen paces away. From here, it's clear that some of the graves are freshly dug - the fresh earth jarring with the grassy mounds of older tombs.
The niches framed wicker storage sheds with thatched roofs, the floor bare dirt where a mat of woven reeds fail to cover. Signs of recent habitation included a stained bedroll, ration wrappers, and several old stained bandages. A leather pouch marked with the word "Tithe" and stitched with two black-furred great cats sat in a forgotten corner near a half-empty wine bottle, the bag filled with copper pieces. A weathered journal hidden beneath the mat speaks of teleportation mazes and a growing unease among the mercenaries of the Rahib regarding the mission itself and of elven maidens with black eyes and terrible voices.
The staff's magic drove the thick sludge coating the pool aside, cleansing and dislodging the metal drain cover. Instantly, the foul water in the fountain began to pour into the gap in a powerful swirl. The water weird felt the suction and turned back in the direction of the Priest, seeking to engulf him in its watery mass.
Albur escaped it's clutches, albeit drenched to the bone. Armolas struck again with the elven blade while it was distracted.
Weakened by the stroke, the suction of the drain overcame it, drawing it down and away to vanish in a whirlpool of slime. Albur quickly replaced the drain, sealing it away.
Armolas nodded. "I'll try to hold it off while you work. Make haste."
The elven blade's slashing point pushed the water weird ever backwards, opening a narrow path the the hippocampus mosaic and the fouled drain. The staff's magic pulsed anew.
Once Again in a Celestial Realm:
Unlykahlee leaned over the scrying pool once more. "He did it again. Jumped three editions."
Her brother paused his playing of an impossible torture device/musical instrument and raised an eyebrow. "Three editions of what?" "Explaining it ruins the fun. My little wizardling laments his lack of magic and thinks there will be a time when he would have more. And he's right." "How do you know that?" "That fellow told me. Long beard. Longer hat." "Oh. Him. it must be a lucky guess. These mortals are always discovering things." "Maybe you are right, Dear Brother. Maybe. Maybe the Magicicking isn't as far away as you think." Her brother re-raised his eyebrow. "Name needs work" She returned her gaze to the pool. And Nudged a rock. Egspen paused, listening. He could have sworn a woman just whispered "Drain" into his ear but there was no one there.
The magic of the staff fails to strike any meaningful part of the splashing beast.
Egspen is up.
The elven warrior rushed forward, sword held high. Steel flashed in the torchlight, slashing through the churning water.
Albur is up.
The magic of the staff awakened, pushing the debris atop the pool to its rim. The filth that coated the fountains floor was similarly pushed away, restoring the view of a mosaic in green and turquoise that showed a majestic hippocampus surrounded by golden stars. All save one part of the pool, where the filth fought the staves power and slithered forward, churning into a whirlpool and then forming a long, serpentine funnel of water studded with the forms of rearing horses - each rearing in pain and rage, kicking and biting. The maelstrom bore down upon Albur and Egspen in blind fury. Weird Water Round 1 DM Screen:
Armolas will rush forward with the Elven Blade.
The magician turned a slow circle, the torches light just barely reaching the walls behind and on either side of him. No trees. Those doors must have remained open at one point and wind carried forest debris inside. No maintenance since. The fountain no longer functioned, its many mouths clogged with the same slime that coated the floor of the pool. Carved to resemble a rising whirlwind of horses emerging from a waterspout, the craftmanship speaks of intricate care and masterful skill in stonework. The stone eyes of every horse have been gouged out - taken for some unknowable purpose. The pools waters swirled and churned anew, sloshing up the pools walls in choppy, foul-smelling wavelets.
A torch was lit, offering a dim view of what seemed a massive courtyard. Niches or door-less sheds - possibly meant for storage lined the walls, deep in shadow - their contents, if any, unknown. The flickering flame shone on the near wall linking both shrines of Elyas, revealing a set of huge double doors and the barricade set against them to keep them well-sealed. A breeze managed to pierce between the portals, bringing chill air and the smells of the elven wood beyond. The wizard wandered towards the great pool at the places center, the water brackish and full of silt, the surface dotted with rotting leaves. Waist-deep , the pale tiles that made up the pools floor peek here and there from under a layer of filth. Still, the water moves, driven by unseen currents, swirling and rippling as the mage studied the surface.
The elf nodded slowly. "Too few were the numbering of his days. Let us find what rest we may in the chamber ahead. My eyes see it more plainly than yours in the dark dim. A great cathedral and a pulpit platform reached by rising stairs. And a fountain set at its heart. Passages that lead I know not where." Armolas looked to the sword at his side. "I would wear this if I may, and through it's kiss bring what revenge Ulrik's soul demands if it suits the will of you both?" The companions gave their final respects and moved across the great chamber to another alcove like the one they had just left, a statue of a Elyas at its heart. Here they took their rest and tended their wounds and minds - reinforcing lost enchantments and prayers.
Claws of Stone Round 4
DM Screen:
Armolas rushed across the chamber and rolled gracefully beneath the gargoyles rending claws. Elven blade in hand he released the war cry of the Woodland realm and struck!
The gargoyles head sprung from its neck, rolling across the floor to land at the base of the statue. It's body stood for a moment, quavering, before crumbling to rubble. "For my friend," Armolas said, "Hahl eth est nuur Sehanine." The wood elf sheathed the elven blade, his face grim. "This Rahib has much to answer for."
Claws of Stone Round 4
DM Screen:
Armolas rushed across the chamber and rolled gracefully beneath the gargoyles rending claws. Elven blade in hand he released the war cry of the Woodland realm and struck!
The gargoyles head sprung from its neck, rolling across the floor to land at the base of the statue. It's body stood for a moment, quavering, before crumbling to rubble. "For my friend," Armolas said, "Hahl eth est nuur Sehanine." The wood elf sheathed the elven blade, his face grim. "This Rahib has much to answer for."
The gargoyle snarled and lashed out a the cleric, drawing blood.
It stabbed at Sir Ulrik with its horn, striking just as the Knight straightened from his earlier off-balance miss. The horn drove through the center of the knights open faced helm - stabbing through the back of Sir Ulrik's head in a spray of blood, brains, and bone. The noble gurgled and collapsed to the floor, slain in an instant. The enchanted elven blade clattered to the floor.
Armolas screamed in horror. The fiend returned his attention to Albur, snapping and biting, pushing his defense aside to tear at his flesh - drawing blood.
Claws of Stone Round 3
DM Screen:
Armolas takes aim and looses, his arrow glancing off a stony wing.
Sir Ulrik slashed, the elven blade finding nothing but air.
Albur is up again.
The gargoyle erupts into rage upon being harmed, tearing and ripping at Sir Ulrik mercilessly.
The Knight staggered, reeling from the pain of his wounds and the gargoyle pounced, stabbing with his jagged horns and biting.
The Knight struck, his blow swatted away by the fiend.
Albur is up followed by Egspen as the only member of the Magic Phase.
Claws of Stone Round 2
Go Ahead and Declare Albur and Egspen's movement plans. DM Screen:
The swing, wider than intended to not interfere with Sir Ulrik's blow clacked against the beast without leaving lasting harm. The Gargoyle slashed out with it's claws, ripping rents in in Sir Ulrik's armor and flesh. As the knight staggered back, the gargoyle lunged at Albur, biting trying to plunge its stone horns into his flesh without success. Magic is next! Spoiler:
Do we prefer the individual initiative similar to 5e or side initiative with declared intent and combat phases?
Sir Ulrik attacked, carving a bloody line in stone flesh.
Albur is up.
The terrible thing above peeled its lips back from bloodied fangs as it was spotted. It released its hold on the stonework and fell. It's wide, bat-like wings did little to slow its descent, its bulk shattering floor tiles on impact. A horned demon of living stone, the creature rose to its clawed hind legs and stalked forward with outstretched claws. Initiative:
The heroes react first! Movement: Armolas backs up and readies his bow. Sir Ulrik draws his magic elven sword and advances on the monster. What do you do?
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