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Hey there
a quick little breakdown of the party structure;
Ayver, Human Female Druid with Ape animal companion; influential member of the Bronzewood Lodge.
Nameless, a Fighter/Rogue Human Male; grew up on the streets of the Free City.
Arcaniss, a Spellscale Sorcerer/Dragonheart Mage Male; flashy. Has wings and a breath weapon, and is not afraid to use them!
Sjatchlex (Shadowtalk in draconic), a Male Dragonwrought Kobold Telepath. An old friend of Allustan who was contacted to help brainstorm this Age of Worms nonsense.
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Hall of Harsh Reflection -
After meeting with Allustan and Marzena, the party was given documents that they were charged with bringing to an old friend of the mages. Couple with the notes containing the research and knowledge of the undead monstrosities known as the Spawn of Kyuss found in the area, the party was also asked to bring some of the artifacts found in the tomb of Icosiol in the Whispering Cairn.
The party tied up some loose ends in the ramshackled town of Diamond Lake, including paying Mazros a sum to keep him quiet and run things as normal. The gnome merchant Tildwoad also gave the PC's a contact for a potential buyer of items in the Black Market Disctrict of the Free City.
Setting out on the road to the Free City, the party was attacked by two Troll brothers, who seemed to be desperate to mug the party. They were dealt with swiftly, bleeding their backstory into nothingness...
Approaching the city limits, the PC's were confronted by a staggering queue of people, caravans, goods, and even exotic animals, waiting to gain entrance to the city. Arcaniss took to the sky to survey the scene, noting nothing extraordinary beyond the routine city guard checkpoint.
After a few long hours of waiting, the guards came to inspect their goods. Initially cautious because of the large ape and kobold in the group, they came upon some items that they considered contraband in the city. The poison bolts specifically, and strangely the potions they inspected were accused of holding hallucinogenic items in the vials. “You never know what worms can do!” The proposed confiscation of these items was countered by an on the sly bribe that seemed to work well enough to get the guards off their back.
Once inside the city, they noted that many residents were excited over the prospect of the Champion's Games. Indeed handbills and giant banners were plastered all over the most populated districts of town, some even counting down to the day, only a couple weeks away.
While observing a circus-like procession of performers and wild animals in cages, the group managed to get tangled in the throng of people gathering to watch. A particularly large cage contained a Chimera - a hybrid creature with massive wings and the head of a predatory cat, huge goat, and blue dragon. Almost ineffectually the Dragon head roared while gouts of electricity splayed across the bars of the cage, dissipating effortlessly.
Distracted by the procession, and focused on this magnificent and terrifying beast, obviously enraged by its confinement, Arcaniss did not feel a potion being lifted off his person by an enterprising cutpurse. Nameless' keen senses attributed to his street savvy nature allowed him to spot the thief that had an eye on his wand belt. Though successful with the lift, he was spotted and a chase began.
Before any distance could be made, the enraged chimera burst through his cage that had been weakened by repeated electrical attacks. The beast pounced upon the closest bystander, pinning him to the ground with a massive paw. The creature roared at the rest of the crowd, who had begun to flee at this point.
Torn between catching the escaping thieves and stopping the rampaging creature, the party split its resources.
Ayver and her ape growled defensively, eyes sharp and focused, and both began to crackle with magical energy as they charged toward the furious beast.
Arcaniss, not one to be shown up in displays of power, channeled his passion and intensity into a searing blast of arcane electricity, simultaneously wounding and cauterizing the massive creature. The strike did well to distract it from the helpless and unconscious townsperson.
Sjachlex focused on penetrating the mind of the thief, locking his mind away and preventing him from escaping.
Nameless seized the oppurtunity to grapple and bind the defenseless thief. Confident that he was effectively held, Sjachlex turned his focus once more to the mind of the enraged Chimera, finding it even easier to infiltrate and shut down.
The furious Druid and her ape managed to knock the helpless creature unconscious, while Arcaniss flew like a hawk to spot the remaining thief. In the confusion he seemed to have slipped between some buildings and down an alley, only to disappear at the end of the road.
The grateful performers, once again in control of the beast, thank the party and offer them two protection potions that seem to crackle like fireflies inside the glass walls, oddly reminding them of the chaos that just took place.
The party convinces the thief, through a successful show of force on Nameless’ part, to take them to their hideout, in the hopes that they can intercept the other member. (Who thought a random potion and a drained wand of Unseen Servant would be so missed? Note to self: Don’t take stuff from the Players). The thief, who reveals his name to be Sald takes them to an unassuming building on the other side of the Market District, and even teaches them the secret knock to be let in to the building (knock, knock, cough, kick the door). He convinces the party to let him do the knock so that the person on the other side of the door does not suspect anything. In reality Sald manufactured the ‘secret knock’ in order to buy him a chance to slip a potion of invisibilty into his mouth while he coughed. When the invisible Sald kicked the door he activated a pressure plate that allowed him to fall as the floor in front of the building gave away.
The PC’s spotted the deception and triggered the same plate one by one, with the Ape waiting outside, too large to squeeze. They fell safely down many feet with the help of a chute and were promptly dropped into a room that would act as a holding cell, if the door leaving it wasn’t already unlocked and open. Only two other doors led out of this room, and both were closed. The amount of time that had passed would not have been enough for Sald to escape using the doors.
Knowing that an invisible Sald was somewhere in this room, the party used their skills as efficiently as they could to catch the thief. Ayver shifted and twisted her body, transforming herself into a large bat; with echolocation it was no problem to spot the huddling thief in the far corner of the room. Sjachlex reorganized the synapses in his mind, allowing him to feel the air as a touch, transferring that information to his visual receptors, he could spot the thief easily. Nameless, though hampered in the darkness of the cellar, used his polearm proficiency to do a sweep of the room, both isolating where Sald was not, and keeping him from moving around. Arcaniss, waiting for a cue from the rest of the party on the location of the Thief, was preparing the beginnings of a spell that would incapacitate their combatant.
Unconscious and helpless, the intruders tied up Sald and prepared for him to wake in order to interrogate him further.
A sharp slap on the face was all that was needed to wake the thief, who quickly surveyed his surroundings and his bonds. After a brief struggle, Sald was convinced his capture and his capturers were not to be surpassed easily.
The party searched the rest of the basement floor, finding some sleeping arrangements and a protected chest. Easily unlocking and disarming the trap mechanism, Nameless found a jewel-encrusted goblet, as well as a note to unnamed individuals that essentially explained the chest’s contents as part of a contracted heist. They were to extract a specific object from the Manor-Keep of one of the ruling Lords. Associates from the Thieves’ Guild were to come pick up the contents, and reward Sald and his partner Aregen with entry into the Thieves’ Guild. They confiscate all the goods.
They also find stairs that lead to the upper street-level floor. Taking the bound Sald with them, they search this top level. A crude table and chair set, made from some old crates, some wine, a box of outfits, and other miscellaneous gear were found. Sjachlex decides to probe the mind of their captive; while he’s in there, he implants the idea in Sald’s mind that they were indeed the Thieves’ Guild officials sent to collect, and that they essentially robbed the wrong people. The helpless Sald could not fight the violent reworking of his mind; his memories were twisted until he saw the party in a positive light. He was unbound, and the rest of the night was spent with wine and long stories by Sald.
Before dawn, Aregen returned to his home and heist droppoint. He was initially uncomfortable with the PC’s presence, but with Sjachlex’s suggestions, and Sald sitting unthreateningly with the others, he cowed to their story.
He himself was on a secondary mission for the Thieves’ Guild initiation. Using the hijacked potion of Fly, he was able to nab Lord Astor’s flag right from the top of its building.
He retrieved the enormous flag from his Handy Haversack, and began telling the tale of the heist. The PC’s willingly accept both of Aregen and Sald’s Haversacks under promise of return from the Guild.
However, Aregen had failed to notice the worm that was lying dormant in the potion. Shortly after he arrived back at the safe house, he began feeling quite ill. Eventually he went to bed. Ayver’s growing uneasiness caused her to go and check on the infected thief, who was now coughing up a little blood.
Her healing powers did what they could to repair his tissues, but he was certainly infected with something.
Having to meet Eligos the next day, she and the other party decided to bring both of them to him as well, in case he would be able to diagnose something about his infection.
Leaving early in the morning, the PC’s encounter what locals referred to as “the Rain Barrel Man”; he stood on top of a weathered rain barrel in the middle of the crowded market district. He ranted and raved about coming doom, while everyone but children, who delighted in throwing rocks and mud at the man, ignored him.
When the group walked closer, they heard more clearly his ranting; “Listen to me, you children of the Free City, and hear the doom that builds before your blind eyes. You in your house of Gold and you in your hovel of mud and even you in your mail of metal, none of you are safe from the doom, from the Age of Worms. Oh yes, It is coming. Have you not heard the dead dragons roar? Have you not smelled the rot festering under your very nose? Have you not dreamt of the worm that walks, bringing decay to all he touches? Fools, you are all fools! Your doom is upon you! The end is in sight and none of you shall be spared. Decay is the future, and the future is here!”
They walked on by and ignored the man, though not without feeling personally touched by his mad ravings.
They left the market district, and entered the garden district, where Allustan’s instructions told them they would find Eligos. His opulent mansion was managed by his aged Elven manservant Pollard. They meet with Eligos, who is initially indifferent to them, but when Allustan was mentioned he changed his attitude. It was revealed that Allustan, Marzena, and himself were all students under the tutelage of a man only referred to as M.
Through some prodding (and probing), the M. revealed itself to be for Mordenkainen. The party pleaded their case, giving Eligos all the info they had on the cults, the worms, and the artifacts they found in the Whispering Cairn. Coupled with Marzena and Allustan’s notes, he pledged to commit his research to uncover what he could in his Great Library. As for the infection of Aregen, Eligos admitted he knew little, and that maybe he should be taken to a healer. Eligos asked for a few days in order to research. He suggested that they stay at one of his friends’ inn in the city, under discount of course. The party agreed and departed for The Crooked House tavern, in order to establish their accommodations.
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Sald and Aregen, growing more impatient, reluctantly agree to stay with the PC’s while they organize their rooms.
Entering the Crooked House, which is just that, slightly off skew from the shifted foundations, a jovial gnome greets the group, and introduces himself as Tarquin, the owner. He appears to be in the middle of serving a meal, and asks the party if they would like to join. They negotiate a fair price for inclusive drinks and meals while they stay, thanks to their mention of Eligos. Tarquin mentions a live show that is to take place shortly that evening.
The party, overjoyed at the possibility to rest and have some entertainment, quickly go to work on their free drinks agreement. As the night progressed, the Party got increasingly loose with their talk and with the gear they were flashing. At the height of it, they brought out the stolen goblet, and Arcaniss went to work searching for any magical qualities it contained. With Ayver’s assistance, they were able to discern the magical properties to be related to a healing quality. After a little application of logic, including ingesting poison, they found that it could neutralize any poison put into it. A hefty sum must have been paid for such an item.
When the bard performer arrived, the party had already had enough of him. Throughout his performance, Sjachlex incited random audience members to hurl insults at the performer. The party decided as a group that maybe inciting a mass dance choreography would better accompany the performance. The kobold used his considerable telepathic and mental skills to control the spontaneous dance.
As the night grew on, Aregen felt increasingly more ill. He retired to bed with Sald, in one of the single rooms overhead. Concerned that their negligence had implicated a (more or less) innocent person in potential wormy doom, the party decided to go check on Sald. Seeing his condition worsen, Ayver searched within herself for a spell that could undo his condition. Placing her hands upon his coughing and sputtering chest, she channeled a primal desperation, and focused on pulling the sickness out of him. Aregen collapsed on the ground, coughing up thick blood, and with it, tiny green worms. The worms desperately bore out of his flesh and lungs, before dying as they exited his body. Ayver worked quickly to heal the wounds created by the process, and left Aregen unconscious in his bed. Satisfied that she had done all she could to remove the worm, she retired to her own bed.
The next day was spent milling about the market, and spending their hard earned cash. A group such as them certainly was not unusual on these streets, but still unique enough to draw attention.
That night at the Crooked House, just as the rest of the party went to bed, Ayver noticed the door to her room opening. A merchant stepped in and then promptly excused himself. He claimed to be in the wrong room, and she watched him enter his own room down the hall. Embarrassed, she gave him his privacy.
Less than a quarter of an hour later, a commotion was heard downstairs. Running to check out the event, the party came across Tarquin unconscious on the ground and with a dagger sticking out of his chest, as well as the same merchant from a few moments prior, currently engaged in inciting the crowd against the PCs.
He claimed that not a moment prior, the kobold came down out of his room, walked up to Tarquin and stabbed him brutally in the chest.
The party tried to protest, but the drunkenness of all those involved, coupled with eye witnesses of the event made calming the crowd too difficult.
A fight eventually broke out, though the party managed to incapacitate the patrons without killing anyone. Ayver ran to tend to the hurt gnome, healing him. During the fight, one of bar patrons ran to get the watch. Once they had incapacitated the merchant, and bound him, the watch arrived. They heard the story, searched the merchant, and found the exact same daggers on the body of the ‘merchant’. In addition, a key was found on his body. The key head was shaped to be a ship being pulled under by a giant octopus. The party managed to ‘forget’ they had the key on them. When inspecting his room, all manner of outfits, disguises, etc were found. The watch took the man into custody, and thanked the party for their help in apprehending the con man. Tarquin offers them free room and board for a month.
The next day, still unsettled by the previous night’s incident, the party decides to take matters into their own hands. They head to the jail, and Sjachlex’s smooth talking mind control allowed them access to the cell.
They saw a body laying in the bed in the dirty cell. Upon closer inspection (removing the sheets to question the merchant) they found pillows and blankets used to create the illusion of a body, while the head was a recently severed head. Flashing back to the tavern identifies it as the severed head of one of the city watch that apprehended the merchant “Elaxan” the night before.
Frantic that the merchant is murdering and on the loose, the party splits and tries to track him down. Ayver twists and distorts her body, turning into a magnificent eagle to take to the sky, hoping in vain to get a glimpse of the murderer.
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Inside the jail, the Chief was summoned and confronted with the head of the city watch guard. Initially concerned with the presence of the PCs, he is easily coerced by Sjachlex’s mental implanting that they are actually a special investigations unit sent by the city watch, who were suspicious of this criminal.
Willing to shelve the responsibility of the inquest on behalf of both the jail and the city watch administration, the Chief shares everything he knows about the event. The young man murdered was named Kerr; he was a single man, living not far from the jail district itself.
The PCs also discovered that there was only a single person scheduled to supervise that particular wing during the evening. This guard was named Shaw, and had just finished his shift. He was found in the locker room, packing his gear (weapons, uniform, and armour) into the standard issue guard bag. The PCs questioned him, but Shaw protested to not know what had happened. Sjachlex took the opportunity to read Shaw’s thoughts, discovering that Shaw was worried about his job; it was found out that he failed to do his rounds that night, instead he was playing dice with some of the other guards who were also reneging on their duties. Shaw’s conscious thoughts removed the possibility of his involvement in the murder or the escape.
When the PCs went to interrogate the guards at the front gate, one of them asked the Chief if Shaw was feeling any better, and if he expected him to be in for his shift today. Taking everyone by surprise, they inquired and found out that Shaw had allegedly left the jail early that night on account of feeling really ill. He was spotted taking his gear as well.
Concerned for Shaw’s identity, the PCs asked him to take them to his house. Noticing nothing suspicious on the way there and nothing inside (save for his wife and children busily making bread), they decided that this identity stealing shapeshifter had probably discarded Shaw’s appearance and was not trying to assume Shaw’s identity any further.
On the way back to the prison district, Ayver noticed a strange commotion in the small park that marks the division of districts. Her attunement to nature helped her sense an excitement in the air. Her eyes and ears were drawn to a suspiciously large flock of city birds, excitedly chirping away in a tall tree. Curious as to the commotion, she prepared for a spell that would allow her to communicate with the birds. No sooner did she finish the spell before she was assaulted by an overwhelming amount of chatter: “Food! Over there! Move over! Food!”. Ayver was pointed to another mass of birds behind the tree, busily picking and pecking at some object. When she managed to shoo the birds from it, she recognized it as one of the standard issue guard bags from the prison; inside it she found a headless corpse, rightfully assuming that it was the body of the murdered guard Kerr.
Taking the corpse back to the prison, they now had enough of the body to attempt a ‘Speak with Dead’ spell. The Chief sent for a priest from the nearby temple of Hieroneous. Because of the condition of the corpse, the connection to its imprinted memory would be tenuous.
As leaders of the investigation, they asked the corpse “Who killed you”, and were answered by “Kerr killed me. Shaw killed me. I killed me”. This more or less sealed their suspicions; there were two shapeshifters, one impersonating Kerr and one impersonating Shaw. Ayver, with her personal experience in shapeshifting, as well as her gathered knowledge, posited that it was the work of Doppelgangers; they possess an innate ability to read the thoughts and minds of others. Sjachlex confirmed that with a simple sweep, say the act of being brought through from entrance to cell, would be sufficient to read the minds of enough guards to know everything about patrol structure, access keys, and the proper routes of escape, and especially which guards were planning on being negligent.
A moment of horror washed across the PCs as they realized that their contact with the creatures would have also exposed their minds. Feeling violated, the group decided to extend their search. They wondered if maybe Aregen and Sald had heard anything within their own range of contacts, and decided to seek them out at the drop point.
Receiving no answer when they knocked on the front door, they immediately became suspicious. Sjachlex mentally commanded his Psicrystal to take the journey down the secret hatch and explore for him.
After a brief tumble, the psicrystal steadied itself and began to search the room. He immediately reported a large pool of blood on the middle of the basement floor, leading to the room where Aregen and Sald slept.
One by one the party tumbled down the chute to inspect. A horror scene was found in their room; cots overturned, clothes shredded, and most prominently was an image, drawn in blood, on the wall. The group recognized it as the same, albeit crudely drawn, image that was found on the key confiscated from Elaxan; a ship being pulled underwater by the crushing tentacles of an octopus.
Steeled by the possible murder of their friends, and feeling somehow responsible for implicating them any further in their problems, the PCs set out to discover more about this image.
Running low on contacts, but recognizing the dark and seedy nature of the events, they decided to make a trip to the contact that Tildwoard, the ask-no-questions merchant of Diamond Lake, had provided for them. They were told to seek out Rivell, who ran an import/export operation in the warehouse district. Nameless, using his contacts within the city, was able to quickly locate her warehouse, characterized by only a crescent moon above the door.
Knocking on the door, they were greeted by a bald and grey skinned human, dressed in a fine suit. He said nothing, but at the PCs mention of Tildwoad, he unlocked the door and led the party to Rivell in her office, taking his place silently standing beside her door.
She was busily writing in a ledger book, her frantic nature accented by the chaotic state of the room; hastily strewn papers, books, odd coins and a few empty liquor bottles provided enough of clue as to her organizational skills.
Playing coy at first, the PCs offered to give her some information as to the whereabouts of a Black Dragon egg, in exchange for information she may be able to provide. Being evasive, she suggested she wanted nothing to do with the egg, and that she isn’t generally in the business of information brokering. Quickly growing tired of playing any games, Nameless brandishes the key, and Sjachlex makes a note of her reaction to the image. Reading her mind is not necessary, as she is immediately visibly concerned; Sjachlex reads that she worries that something may have gone awry with their last transaction. Her familiarity with the image obvious, the PCs interrogate her and learn that a month or so ago she came in the possession of a large scroll; it was brought to her from an expedition to a forgotten temple from the north. She was unable to decipher what it contained, but her sleight magical aptitude and training was enough to tell her that there was something overwhelming contained within.
The image referred to one of her buyers; she knew him only by this symbol, as all communication was sealed and signed with it. He (Rivell wasn’t even entirely convinced that he was a he!) only dealt in person with his own crew, a vast and ever changing group, or so it would seem. This buyer would often purchase her more questionable items, at a price that obviously included silence on both their parts. He purchased the scroll off her for a considerable amount.
She revealed that the warehouse that she met his contacts for deliveries at was called “Sodden Hold”, an abandoned place on the edge of the warehouse district, bordering on the river. It could be found more easily at night, when a soft purple glow illuminated the same symbol they have grown to be familiar with on the side of the building.
Setting out at night, they found the warehouse with little difficulty; Nameless’ connection with the city granted them a swift and unfettered mobility. Sure enough, the building was found to have the glowing symbol on its side, with “Sodden Hold” written in fading green paint. The entire building has taken on a green hue, due to the moss that covers its façade. A tall set of locked iron doors marked the only entrance into the building.
Not surprisingly, the party used the key they found to unlock the front door. Preparing themselves for potential conflict inside, Arcaniss warded his body with a protective force, hopefully resilient enough to displace any harmful attacks.
Opening the door, they found a large room filled mostly with crates and boxes of various sizes. Three doors led out of the room, one on the North side, and two on the South side. Inspecting the crates, the party found various items of various sources, including cheap clothing, bulk amounts of mail links, and many containers filled with different alcohols. Deciding to check on the southern doors, Nameless checked each one for possible traps. Finding none, other than a heavy lock on both, he moved on. Sjachlex’s curiosity got the best of him however, as his attempted opening of the Northern door caused a pit to open up beneath him. In an amazing feat of precognition he jumped out of the way, avoiding the fall completely. A gruesome pit filled with many spikes 40ft below made the little kobold thankful for his fast reflexes.
However, at that moment, seizing the opportunity caused by the kobold’s distraction, the closest large crate grew appendages and struck, slamming against the side of the small creature, a sticky substance bound the telepath to the appendages of creature, who began flailing madly.
Cries erupted from the crate, its form now shifting and warping, calling out in Common “Food! Food! Tasty kobold food!”.
Distressed by the morbid implications the cries of “Food!” held earlier that day, Ayver channeled her rage into a furious focus of fire and divine wrath. A giant pillar of flame erupted, catching two more of the flailing morphed creatures in its blaze, equally shattering apart nearby crates and boxes. One of the southern doors was also destroyed in the strike.
Arcaniss unfurled his wings and rushed to the kobold’s aid, only to be waylaid by lashing appendages of two other crates in proximity to them. Smashing into his arm, Arcaniss was pinned against the creature, preventing him from casting any spells. Channeling his frustration and stored arcane energy into a breath weapon blast, he aimed his head at the creature, who had no chance of dodging, unleashing the full fury of the blast and almost disabling the unprepared shifter.
Ayver’s ape, angry and confused at the sudden attacks of these crates, struck with both of his claws at the one closest to him. He managed to strike at the flaming creature, but in so doing had inextricably attached himself to it.
Nameless effortlessly dodged the attacks of the crates, which he recognized as Mimics (creature often taking the place of large chests, crates, etc in order to surprise their victims), and explained that the adhesive of these creatures could only be dissolved with a strong alcohol or with some time following the creature’s death. He struck the creatures with his guisarme, deftly pulling his weapon away before it could get stuck to the creature.
The Mimic closest to Ayver struck her, binding her as well to its sticky frame, slowly squeezing the life out of her.
Each of the Mimics took the opportunity to squeeze their victims to death; Sjachlex, refusing to let this creature crush him, released power from his mental reserves, letting it flow through his body, hopefully strengthening it to resist the advances of the creature.
The smashed containers of alcohol coupled with the splintered crates and barrels helped spread the fire quickly, and before long the party was heating up.
Nameless’ deft strikes helped finish off the creature that was strangling Sjachlex, while Arcaniss and Ayver (now shapeshifted into a crocodile to get a good bite in) took care of the Mimic crushing them. The ape used his large girth to fight back against the creature, who at this point wished he could remove himself, crushing the life out of it.
The party, save for nameless, was still held fast against these large dead creatures, while the room began to fill with flames and smoke. Ever encroaching, the flames reached Ayver’s ape first; howling in pain as the flames danced around his body, burning him horribly, he desperately began to drag the large corpse out of the building. Nearly tearing his own arms off, he dragged the flaming corpse through the iron doors and into the alleyway.
The other PCs, unable to defend themselves or escape the encroaching flames, looked desperately at Nameless for salvation. Nameless responded with a hollow laughter that didn’t seem to belong to him, and simply watched as they burned.
Sjachlex, mostly immobile, concentrated on penetrating the mind of Nameless, and dominating it. Initially resisting the telepath’s probes, Sjachlex desperately sent a surge of power into the fighter’s mind, breaking through and establishing control. Ayver and Arcaniss were now being consumed by the flames, so Nameless’ first orders were to administer potions of resist fire, saving Arcaniss from the flames. Able to dodge the flames effortlessly, Nameless weaved in and out, further providing potions of gaseous form to the trapped PCs, removing them from the hold of the dead Mimic’s adhesive. Like the smoke that was now rushing out of the building, the gaseous Ayver and Arcaniss escaped to freedom.
Nameless was then ordered to find some of the unignited alcohol to dissolve Sjachlex from his bond. Once clear of the flames outside, Nameless was tied up and incapacited. The party at this point immediately suspected that Nameless had been replaced by a doppelganger at some point. Resolving to wait until the fire died down inside before worrying about their new prisoner, they left him unconscious and bound.
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More to come! The party is divided! What will happen!?
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Thanks!
These players are taking every little hint of a sidequest. They want me to flesh out every minor character, which I find a very interesting experience.
We only stopped the last session, because I had nothing prepared regarding Ilya Starmane's home!
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Trying to be discrete, the party dragged Nameless to a nearby warehouse, indiscriminately smashing the lock and moving inside. A moderately sized building, it had only one entrance (and therefore exit), and seemed to be filled with various parts for boats of all kinds. A workbench with some tools and unfinished pieces stood against the east wall; beside it was a crude office of sorts. The party chose the office for their site of interrogation and quickly began to extract what information they could from the helpless fighter. Ayver, disgruntled at the use of all the wood in this warehouse, decided to warp it to her own purposes. Setting the unconscious Nameless onto the office’s desk, she channeled power through her body that would allow her to exert control over the wood, shaping and warping it into a perfect enclosure from which he could not escape. Tangled within the twisted desk, Nameless was slapped awake.
Surprised by his capture, Nameless pleaded with his friends. “What are you doing to me?! I’m not the one that started the fire! Look at your Druid friend over there! You know for a fact that she is a shapeshifter. Shouldn’t you be suspicious of her?”
This sparked a bit of an internal uprising; Sjachlex was unable to penetrate the minds of anyone in the room, and Arcaniss was suddenly suspicious of the others. Weighing his possibilities, Arcaniss consumed a potion that would allow him to read the thoughts of others. While under the effects of the drink, Sjachlex asked questions to the others, hoping to catch any surface thoughts that would incriminate them as a liar. Ayver responded satisfactorily, while Nameless sent a torrent of thoughts out that seemed contrary to the events at hand; his thoughts sang of being tortured and beaten.
Strangely enough, one by one his fingers appeared to twist and snap; he let out a scream that ended with his jaw practically being torn off. His hands mangled and face mutilated, now showing bruises and welts, his hair began to lengthen until he completely resembled the battered form of Marzena as they found her in the swamp prison.
Marzena appeared to be unconscious; Ayver did her best to channel healing energy into the broken form of the spellcaster, but it made no difference. The party was more cautious at this point, trying to evaluate the appearance of Marzena. Is the one that is back with Allustan a doppelganger? What kind of sorcery would be at work here?
The only test they could devise to discover the nature of this creature was to cut off some of her hair. The intention was that whatever is cut off should reveal the magic at hand. Sjachlex reached into his belt and pulled a tiny sharp blade out to test this theory further.
Upon severing the hair, they found that it dissipated into nothingness. Confident that they were dealing with a shifted creature, Nameless/Marzena took its cue and shifted into the form of Tildwoad, the gnome from Diamond Lake. Twisting and warping his form he made a mockery of Ayver’s prison. His small stature allowed him to get free and make a break for the door.
Unprepared and weaponless, the party could not stop the little man from running between their legs, evading and dodging as he went. His escape was stopped short however by Ayver’s Ape who was guarding the door.
The large animal grabbed Tildwoad in one massive arm, and pinned him to the ground. Helpless and immobile, Sjachlex seized the opportunity to end this nightmare of identity theft; using the same dagger that exposed the doppelganger’s true nature, he sliced a wide gash in the little gnome’s throat, spilling its blood all over the floor of the warehouse. The death throes and spasms were unnoticeable under the weight of the large creature’s paw.
His life force completely bled out, the gnome changed shape a final time. He assumed the ‘neutral’ form all doppelgangers take at death, what some would call their ‘true form’.
Satisfied that the creature had successfully been taken care of, they threw the corpse into the nearby river, letting the fish (or worse) do what they do best.
Feeling completely drained by the whole experience, the party decided to take Tarquin up on his offer of free room at the inn. Not feeling safe at Aregen and Sald’s drophouse, and wanting to make themselves accessible to Eligos, it was the most reasonable restpoint. Not to mention they wanted to be far away from the boating warehouse when the workers came in the morning.
This late in the evening, Tarquin was already up on top of the table, wearing a deep purple robe, and a tiara that, by the way it kept falling down his face, obviously was not his. He greeted the PCs with a drink and they all saluted, and forced it down. Each feeling as miserable and drained as the next, they resigned to bed.
In the morning, Tarquin was up and about and wearing the same robe, but his face was an entirely different colour. Gone was the rosy complexion, replaced by the pale skin of regret. Holding his head in his hands, he mustered the strength to make the group some quick breakfast. They were too impatient to mind anyway, and desperate to get back to the warehouse district.
They found the same amorphous corpse of the torched Mimic outside of the building, with no sign of tracks leading in or out. Entering the building cautiously, they found it more or less as they left it. One of the broken doors on the south side led into a room filled with bookcases and folios. Endless amounts of papers and folders held details regarding the last business that legitimately ran out of this building. A quick read of some of the papers targets the business as having closed up shop about ten years prior. While Arcaniss was flipping through a few folios, a small ring fell out of one of the books. It was a small simple silver band with a repeating loop motif; the party later detected it as possessing magical qualities.
The next door contained a room with a ladder that led up to a catwalk that traversed the length of the room. Sjachlex began to climb the ladder, but it was rigged to collapse. It fell down all around him, bringing dust and debris with it, slightly pinning him underneath it.
The party resolved to fly up to the catwalk instead. At the end of the walk, they found an irregularity in the wall; pressing it allowed them to access another room with stairs sloping down. Two chests were also found in this room; one contained a silver necklace with a blue gem the size of a human fist on it, a signet ring, and a beautifully embroidered azure cloak; the other contained a magical bag of holding with a large number of gold coins as well as some paperwork that identified them as taxes collected from the local area. This room contained only one door out; the party found it unlocked.
The next room seemed to be a jail of sorts. Five cells made of stone, save for an iron-bar door made up the layout. Three of the cells seemed to be occupied. The first contained a man who appeared to be dead, laying at the far end of his cell. The second contained a gently sobbing Elven woman, but the third cell held both Aregen and Sald! The duo leapt up at the sight of the party and pleaded with them to release them. Concerned with the absence of Nameless, they confided all they knew of what was going on. They spoke of horrible beatings and torture on a regular basis, and despicable things that they witnessed even in their short tenure as prisoners.
The party was understandably unconvinced that they were the real Aregen and Sald. Sensing the distrust, the duo went for the desperate. They started rummaging through the hay and straw that made up their bed, desperately searching for something that maybe could be used to pick the lock. The desperation seemed to appease the party enough to let their guard down; the rummaging was a ploy. The duo bought enough time to locate their hidden magical longswords in order to launch an attack. Kicking the cell door open, combat was began.
With an uncanny precision and display of teamwork, the pair set upon Ayver who had not had much time to prepare her defenses. Their expertise and grace with a blade was unquestionably uncharacteristic of Aregen and Sald, however the visage was so accurate that the party was almost paralyzed at the thought of fighting more of their friends.
Easily dodging the clumsy and cramped swipes of the large ape, and parrying Ayver’s scimitar blows, the combatants were able to corner their foes. Striking in supernatural unison, Ayver was incapacitated in a few brief flashes of their glowing blades. Leaving her to bleed on the ground, they turned their martial focus towards the enraged and howling ape. Sjachlex desperately wove himself underneath the ape’s crashing feet in order to administer some magical healing to Ayver, bringing her to consciousness again.
Arcaniss, feeling cramped by the close quarters, took to flight and hovered just above head level of the deadly fighters, unleashing a blast of arcane electricity that they could not avoid. Severely wounded, they paused just a moment in their strike.
It was not enough however, as the combined slashes proved too much for the ape, with a final thrust completely penetrating the throat of the poor creature, leaving it lifeless on the ground.
Ayver, now conscious, felt a great pain pass through her body; she recognized this pain as different from the kind caused by a sharp blade. Feeling inadequate with her own, she assumed a more comfortable form; transforming into a crocodile she turned her body into a weapon.
Sjachlex summoned thousands of tiny crystals and sent them flying at the two fighters; the resulting shrapnel tore Aregen into pieces as he took the brunt of the attack leaving Sald more or less unscathed behind.
The fall of one of the combatants allowed Arcaniss to completely incinerate the remaining shifter with another point blank blast.
Both bodies reverted to the doppelganger form, further complicating matters.
Not wanting to take anymore chances, Arcaniss loaded his crossbow, and steadied his sights on the supposed ‘dead’ figure in the other cell. The arrow struck home, piercing the side of the poor man’s neck, killing him. The party waited in horror for the body to revert to doppelganger form, but to no avail.
Overwhelmed at the loss of the Ape, as well as the accumulating blood on their hands, the party resorted to diplomacy with the Elven woman, who was doing her best to ignore the entire scenario.
She screamed for them to leave her alone; she was convinced that this was a continuation of the doppelganger’s horrible torture tactics. It took the brandishing of a severed doppelganger head to assuage her fear. Despite the gruesome nature of the convincing, she was ready to accept them as vigilantes or desperate heroes.
She introduced herself as Ilya Starmane, an Elven Noble from the kingdom of Celene, not far from the Free City. Her family has a manor in the city; they spend a lot of time here as intermediaries between the two capitals (ambassadors), as well as running a very profitable merchant ring.
She protested that with or without them, she was going to go back. She had spent several months in that prison, and she was not willing to spend even a moment longer, now that her freedom was possible.
The PC’s let her go, but shortly caught up with her, deciding that they should probably escort her. The terror struck when they imagined that Ilya had not been missing at all; a doppelganger was probably in her form at the Starmane manor. It would be difficult to prove the real one from the false one, and the real Ilya may be killed in the process.
Not wanting any more blood on their hands, they decided to take the responsibility of the investigation upon them, as they headed out of the soot filled warehouse together, dragging the corpse of the Ape with them.
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Aww, man...I remember this part. We commited the uncharacteristically n00b-ish error of splitting the party, allowing our lovely, though scatterbrained, elven warrior woman Fern and the ever-valiant Filge (if by valiant one means "willing to contribute only just enough to remain in the party's good graces") to escort/carry the prisoners back to safety, and they ended up soloing the false prisoners.
Our group stops to chit-chat with basically any NPC we come across, too, so I know what an interesting experience it can be (and I'm sure our DM may add, a taxing one ;) ). About half our party is only really interested in combat and aquisition of wealth/power, and the other half is all about making friends, doing the right thing, etc. All told, though, we're more concerned with character development and continuation of personal story arcs than other groups I've played with, so I really can't complain.
We're just now wrapping up HoHR, though the #$%! illithid escaped...*grumblegrumble*
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Our group stops to chit-chat with basically any NPC we come across, too, so I know what an interesting experience it can be (and I'm sure our DM may add, a taxing one ;) ). About half our party is only really interested in combat and aquisition of wealth/power, and the other half is all about making friends, doing the right thing, etc. All told, though, we're more concerned with character development and continuation of personal story arcs than other groups I've played with, so I really can't complain.
Well, our group certainly isn't interested in doing the right thing. I thought it was funny that your group tried to redeem and make friends with Filge. Our group was disgusted that he had his ex-gf-sex-slave-zombie. They bashed his face into the wall, and fed him (in very small pieces) to the wounded Owlbear when they learned that it was basically him that caused the damage in the first place. Then they burned his place to the ground.
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We still haven't played since the Ilya Starmane thing. What did your group do?
We have two more players joining the game next session, both elves from the kingdom of Celene, so they will definitely have a reason to see her restored in her manor. Their reason should mesh fine enough with the current group's reason to get rid of the doppelgangers.
(these two are actually part of a kind of black-ops unit secretly funded by queen yolande of Celene. long story short, they fought countless spawn that were infecting a small logging outpost in the forest bordering greyhawk. they were contacted by one of the old party members (the ranger who did the Filge smashing) when he went to investigate on his own the 'unkillable undead' to the south. the elves brought what they knew to allustan on the ranger's advice, and were subsequently asked to bring the supplementary information to Eligos. they are with Eligos as he finishes his report.)
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What did your group do with the two prisoners?
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Well, our group certainly isn't interested in doing the right thing. I thought it was funny that your group tried to redeem and make friends with Filge. Our group was disgusted that he had his ex-gf-sex-slave-zombie. They bashed his face into the wall, and fed him (in very small pieces) to the wounded Owlbear when they learned that it was basically him that caused the damage in the first place. Then they burned his place to the ground.
Yeh, people in every AoW group tend to have pretty, um, strong reactions to Filge. He seems to wind up dismembered or disfigured in about 80% of cases... I guess he kind of lucked put in the case of our group; we had fought aberrations, undead, and magical beasts so far...he was the first identifiable "person" to be laid low in combat, and my cleric couldn't stand the thought of letting the "good guys" murder someone in his own home. The DM really goes to town with the character, playing him as a sarcastic, lazy individual who has grown quite fond of certain members of the party, but remains totally unrepentant for his past evils. The dinner table scene has to be one of the most memorable in any game I've ever played in, and the need for the undying adulations of his victims speaks of an extremely troubled individual. Vincent, the swashbuckler, and Thomas, the wizard, decided that Filge was a serious necrophiliac, and talked about it almost constantly, though it's starting to die down a bit (Vincent keeps turning into a half-fiend, and Thomas was recently mind-controlled, so maybe that has something to do with it?). Vincent was trying to get Filge laid for a while, but he may have given up on that, as well.
Our group also ended up making friends with Garras and Kendra from the Hextor temple in TFoE, and Kendra hung out with us one night while we caroused in the Free City. She and Fern wrestled in that underground fighting ring, in their underwear, mostly (I think) to torture Vincent, who has long pined for Fern. I'm pretty sure we'd make a poor paladin's head explode if one ever joined our merry band...
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We still haven't played since the Ilya Starmane thing. What did your group do?
We have two more players joining the game next session, both elves from the kingdom of Celene, so they will definitely have a reason to see her restored in her manor. Their reason should mesh fine enough with the current group's reason to get rid of the doppelgangers.
Fern's our only elf, and she was immediately trusting and sympathetic to Ilya, even arming her with a dagger to protect herself on the way back to the guardhouse. This definitely sounds like a perfect time to get other elven characters involved, though; elven maidens in distress seem to have a strong motivational effect on people. We sent a message to the Starmane manor saying that they should report to the militia HQ regarding a business matter, not wanting to tip off the fake Ilya that her counterpart had been returned. I think that ended up going all right; my character was not technically present, and was too busy being traumatized by our first encounter with Okoral.
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What did your group do with the two prisoners?
Fern and Filge wound up getting into a fairly intense combat with the false prisoners, and only survived due to very clever use of tactics (Filge kept scaring the pair with his magic, and when they ran, they provoked attacks of opportunity from Fern's spiked chain, which was able to be repeated because at least one of the baddies was mired in a Web) and healing provided by Filge's recently-aquired Death Delver levels. Fern kept trying to tell everyone that Filge had used curative magic, but the rest of the party was like, "No, he's a necromancer, he probably just cast False Life," despite her protests to the contrary.
Anyway, one dopp died, one stabilized, and they hauled them both back to the guardpost, which is where some of the rest of us rejoined, growing concerned about their continued absence. We start explaining the situation. Okoral shows up to set things straight, obviously treating everyone like lessers, generally being a scowly hardass, and someone asks, "How do we know you're not a doppelganger?" Dude reaches down, and coupe de graces the unconscious prisoner, letting him bleed out all over the floor. "Does that prove it?" he asks, and we're kind of like, "Um, no, actually, bad guys kill their buddies all the time," which just pisses him off more. We've already crossed paths with him again (as we tried to make sure Telakin stayed alive in his cell long enough to be questioned), and I'm sure we haven't seen the last of him.
So, Okoral "solved" our prisoner problem for us. Thanks, Ok. You're a real (creepy) pal.