The head-on assault wasn't a bad idea by itself. It might not have been your best idea.
Now that's an understatement. We know better. Despite Morag's general desire to lay waste to the place.
- Axel stopped screwing around with the door and just told you to come through the window like he did (or it occurred to the rest of you to just follow Axel. The window was a choke point, but its only guardians at the time were two guards. Really, the two-three rounds of messing with the 10x10 504 Hit Point Break DC 48 door WITH NO HINGES probably really weakened your whole position tactically. Maybe I should have just gone InfoCOM and said, "You can't go that way" and been done with it. ;)
Or if we had gone with the idea of nailing the door and/or wall with disintegrate. That tends to work well against solid objects as I recall.
- You attempted a different form of entry entirely.
I didn't realize we knew of any other means besides the windows and front door. Logic dictates that there are other entrances though. I also would have guessed that the windows really were the local equivalent of glassteel, though Morag wouldn't have.
- You guys killed the lightning-javelin bearing minions, THEN chased the cleric. (The one you actually saw was a she. I forgot to tell you that. This is in fact important.)
Those minions blasted out almost half my hp on their own, not counting damage from the golems. We needed to move, because if the bad guys have javelins of lightning, it's a good bet that they have more than 1 apiece.
As far as the cleric goes, was she wearing any House markings perchance?
- You HEALED yourselves BEFORE chasing the cleric.
None of us thought we were going to actually see me standing that long. When we dimension doored away, I had about 17 hp from an exploding golem, several of those javelins, and the other golem blasting us. I started the battle outside with 16 temporary hp due to heroes' feast and my full 115 hp. I know out of all that I failed at least 2 Reflex saves, as that's my weak save. So we tried to get me out of the line of fire while putting pressure on the bad guys. Too bad someone had either managed to use greater planar ally to get some help or had a partner to cast the 2nd summon monster IX spell that was needed to get 2 rather large glabrezu to then flank us.
Really, for me it was a bit of a comeuppance. We've teased our resident shadowdancer about blowing Will saves, but then thrown him dirty looks when Reflex saves are involved. I've gotten to banish elementals and fiends with holy word when I'm not overloading undead with mass heal a good bit lately, plus gotten a cohort and followers. This particular fight was going to be nasty to me no matter what, as the two things our foes targeted were Reflex saves and AC. With my +10 (+11 at the time) to Reflex saves, things Axel laughs at are things I need to take seriously. My AC of 24 doesn't help either when the guards can hit me, let alone huge nasty demons.
I'm still frustrated that I had all the spells I could want for dealing with the bad guys and got chewed up before I could use them: greater command and wail of the banshee for the guards, greater dispel magic for the blade barrier, undeath to death and mass heal for the undead, plus a few others (silence, flamestrike, destruction) for the Chosen. And of course letting the guys beat up the golems;)
The method you took was to go up against the Skaden HQ when they were already on full alert from fighting with House Sheen and the other Houses; no matter what, it was going to be a damned hard fight. And maybe we should have stopped before the fight started--maybe folks were just tired.
I didn't really think about who was trying to kill who other than I thought it was Sheen vs. Anda. I'd have figured that the 2nd faction of House Sheen would have been joining with the church to deter attacks by Enduras' faction. And yeah, we probably should have quit right there.
(Mind, you did not actually lose XP. I'm sure you realize that, but suddenly I'm thinking someone's going to read this and is going to actually take my previous post seriously. Except where you earned XP for sheer f*%*ing balls. That part was serious. *nod nod*)
I understood all that, no worries. Just not expressing myself well.
FYI, next game Morag's going to start low on spells (I lost nearly 3/4 of my ready spells thanks to dice that were contaminated by my Marvel dice). I also will start with 2 negative levels. I forgot about the clause that you can only use restoration to remove one negative level per week. I have enough uses of channel energy to heal us all I think, plus a few spare spells. I'll need to cast greater restoration to deal with the negative levels in a timely manner.
Or if we had gone with the idea of nailing the door and/or wall with disintegrate. That tends to work well against solid objects as I recall.
I still think going through the already open 10' tall entry way would have been the wiser and faster course of action, not to mention kept you away from standing in a wide open space where you basically had "target" painted on your head. Had you come through the window, you could have used the columns to get a cover bonus to your AC (and the guys on the right balcony couldn't get line of sight to you).
Those minions blasted out almost half my hp on their own, not counting damage from the golems. We needed to move, because if the bad guys have javelins of lightning, it's a good bet that they have more than 1 apiece.
I'm starting to worry that you weren't listening to how the lightning bolts were distributed. You guys were standing like this:
K
DM
Lightning bolts go in a line. I randomly determined which "lines" hit each character. IIRC you were only struck by 2 of the 4 bolts (it might have been 3, but still only 1 you didn't save against), only one of which you didn't save against. That was still something like 30 damage but I don't think you have only 60 hp. Now, after the golem blast, yes, I can see how your HP would have dropped well below half, but...
As far as the cleric goes, was she wearing any House markings perchance?
It was hard to see through the swirling blades, horde of skeletons, and flashes of lightning, and the fact that through most of that she was turning tail and running away.
None of us thought we were going to actually see me standing that long. When we dimension doored away, I had about 17 hp from an exploding golem, several of those javelins, and...
Which is why you maybe could have taken cover by the columns or benches, done a round of healing, instead of dimension dooring into the enemy leader???
Please mind, this was supposed to be a difficult situation and I think you guys did things lots of people would have done, and I am normally the last person to provide tactical advice to anyone. *hugs*
PS: Your second negative level is gone. I would prefer to move on rather than nickel and dime about status conditions when there's lots of other stuff for me and you guys to worry about right now.
I still think going through the already open 10' tall entry way would have been the wiser and faster course of action, not to mention kept you away from standing in a wide open space where you basically had "target" painted on your head. Had you come through the window, you could have used the columns to get a cover bonus to your AC (and the guys on the right balcony couldn't get line of sight to you).
Ah yes, that wonderful thing called "cover". That would have been helpful, wouldn't it? Oh well, at least we've seen the inside of the place to know it's there.
I'm starting to worry that you weren't listening to how the lightning bolts were distributed. You guys were standing like this:
K
DMLightning bolts go in a line. I randomly determined which "lines" hit each character. IIRC you were only struck by 2 of the 4 bolts (it might have been 3, but still only 1 you didn't save against), only one of which you didn't save against. That was still something like 30 damage but I don't think you have only 60 hp. Now, after the golem blast, yes, I can see how your HP would have dropped well below half, but...
Three bolts got me. I failed to save vs. #2 and #4, but #4 didn't hit me. The other 3 did. I'm exagerrating slightly about the hp loss from javelins alone, but it was significant despite my hyperbole. So I took somewhere between 40 and 50 hp damage; they did around 20 a pop, save for 1/2, add a few points from the fact that they varied a bit.
Which is why you maybe could have taken cover by the columns or benches, done a round of healing, instead of dimension dooring into the enemy leader???Please mind, this was supposed to be a difficult situation and I think you guys did things lots of people would have done, and I am normally the last person to provide tactical advice to anyone.
But the enemy leader is nice, squishy, expendable cover...no? Not buying that?
Besides, I think we'll admit freely that we screwed up royally. I'm particularly interested in hearing what the rest of the guys have to say. And let's be honest here: this one is going to stick in our craw for a while, just because we screwed up so well. I hope that the guys figure out a new date for play soon so we can start moving past this. My preference is with a wrecking ball and an eviction notice on the temple;)
Ah yes, that wonderful thing called "cover". That would have been helpful, wouldn't it? Oh well, at least we've seen the inside of the place to know it's there.
I thought Axel would have described in detail what the interior looked like since he scoped the place earlier and went up to the balcony even; I assumed he did, but you guys were talking about that when I was going for a walk.
Three bolts got me. I failed to save vs. #2 and #4, but #4 didn't hit me. The other 3 did. I'm exaggerating slightly about the hp loss from javelins alone, but it was significant despite my hyperbole. So I took somewhere between 40 and 50 hp damage; they did around 20 a pop, save for 1/2, add a few points from the fact that they varied a bit.
Do please remember that SR next time yes? :) I can't remember all the stuff on y'all's character sheets AND try to kill you at the same time. ;D
But the enemy leader is nice, squishy, expendable cover...no? Not buying that?Besides, I think we'll admit freely that we screwed up royally. I'm particularly interested in hearing what the rest of the guys have to say. And let's be honest here: this one is going to stick in our craw for a while, just because we screwed up so well. I hope that the guys figure out a new date for play soon so we can start moving past this. My preference is with a wrecking ball and an eviction notice on the temple;)
By that logic, the glabrezu also should have given you cover, and I'm not going to allow that. :)
Your attempt will still affect the events planned in the city. Some of these effects may even be beneficial to your efforts. :)
Do please remember that SR next time yes? :) I can't remember all the stuff on y'all's character sheets AND try to kill you at the same time. ;D
What, you're not omniscient? *ducks*
But the enemy leader is nice, squishy, expendable cover...no? Not buying that?
By that logic, the glabrezu also should have given you cover, and I'm not going to allow that. :)
I had to ask;)
Your attempt will still affect the events planned in the city. Some of these effects may even be beneficial to your efforts. :)
Ah yes, stirring up the political situation as well as damaging the temple probably would have some effect on things. Still want to hit the place with a nuke, but then I'm biased;)
From our Eldritch Knight, time to add a little humor (well, a lot of humor) to thins:
From the Journal of Dheza DoBasel
The Hrifgard. I hated this place the first 10 times I'd been in it, I still hate it. Too much goes wrong under the soil. Magic instability, general darkness, giant chitinous things, and for some reason everything that grows down here gets twisted from the right and proper way it should have grown on the surface. Possibly my least favorite place in creation. And I've been stuck down here for days. The halfling at least seems reasonable, the ice queen Chosen could use some rouge, and the broody elf could use a visit to a whorehouse. His younger travelling companion was at least attractive, but the kind of attractive that makes your back itch because you know that's where the marks would be after a long night's... but I digress. My name is Dheza, First Scion of the Mercenary House Basel, Information Broker, Master of Blade and Black Arts, and Champion of Causes (Just and Otherwise).
I came to Merrywell Manor as a favor to a friend, mainly to check on some wild rumor that the King Immortal had been destroyed. Imagine my surprise when I find out that not only is it true, but the very people responsible were here with me. They aren't much to look at, a Halfling named Axel, a woman named Morag who looked like death warmed over, and a mottled dark elf name Kieren. But they had the proof, and that's all I needed. After I ascertained the truth of the matter, and hearing more of the goals of these people, I knew why I had truly been sent here. Level the infrastructure of Skaden, establish trade with my home country, igniting chaos and opportunnity: No follower of Lees could pass that up. Not only could we rid the world of a false prophet, but if played right it could bring my house immense profit. Toppling Skaden would leave the throne in a toss up, leaving an opening for the Merchants Guild to finally gain some real strength of influence, and creating opportunnities for my house and our allies outside of the closed borders of Sheenosek.
There were only 2 ways back to Sheenosek. Through the border (warded, watched, and enforced with extreme prejudice) or the Hrifgard (full of horrible things that should never have been). We also travelled with a young dark elf woman and a more wizened one to whom I think she referred as "grandmother". We took the path of madness rather than certain death, which is where I began.
We split from the dark elven woman and her grandmother days ago. Since then we've set boulders on fire to chase away swarms of bugs, fought hundreds of hungry dead, passed through a zone where no magic existed but the swarming undulating darkness of an undead flood, saved an Epona, met back up with our companions, began consecrating an underground city that had been exterminated by my countrymen, and "disarmed" a bunch of traps. Apparently, our Halfling friend disarms traps the way a bull disarms a glass maker's stall. He found the important one before we tripped it at least. I simply can't wait to get to the surface to talk to people again.
I think you under-docked by about 50K for the "hinges" comment. Though I think Kieren should take the brunt of that. :)
I second that notion;) And required him to make Craft (adamantine door) checks.
On the bright side, now that I've got an idea of how my character actually works in combat, our lovely GM has given me to opportunity to retool my spell list. Verdict: less blasty, more controlly and buffy. It also made me go back through the character sheet and find things that I had forgotten about. i.e. my headband which actually works even though I have a helm (which I had stopped using because I didn't realize there was a slot for both) that gives me a +4 to wisdom + cha instead of just my lesser +2 to cha. (easier saves anyone?), the fact that I know my int + the number of ranks in linguistics languages, and the fact that I get to add 1.5 x my strength for melee damage because of the falchion, a necklace I need to upgrade, and last but not least, it reminded me that I have spell penetration feats. Switching to a new character sheet plus re-reading the rules has helped immensely.
I need to clone that helm, since you're getting a bigger Wisdom bonus than I do. Then I need to get that thing turned into a headband. How many ranks in Linguistics do you have? What necklace do you have that needs upgrading? Time and resources permitting, I'll help; Kieren has more item creation feats, I'm better qualified to tinker with wondrous items since I can make Spellcraft checks more easily. And yes, Spell Penetration is your friend. I'm fond of it, that's for sure.
Here is the map of Skadas Shee Krieg made for the party, excessive GIMP filters included:
http://www.angelfire.com/id/deathquaker/gaming/images/wworld/SkadasShee.JPG
Hooray for controlly and Buffy Eldritch Knights. I suppose that makes Morag Willow.
Wait...
Sorry. :)
Aerendi, breaking out those fireballs would have been a FANTASTIC idea. Overall, I think you guys are going to be fine. The dice landed where they did, literally and figuratively. And Morag wouldn't have been nearly as badly hurt if we had remembered her SR.
Glad you found a better character sheet. I really like sCoreGen.
Here is the map of Skadas Shee Krieg made for the party, excessive GIMP filters included:
http://www.angelfire.com/id/deathquaker/gaming/images/wworld/SkadasShee.JPG
Hooray for controlly and Buffy Eldritch Knights. I suppose that makes Morag Willow.
Wait...
Sorry. :)
Aerendi, breaking out those fireballs would have been a FANTASTIC idea.
Glad you found a better character sheet. I really like sCoreGen.
Well, that depends. Am I Willow Season 1, or do I get to pick the season;p As I recall, she got some serious magic powers later. Of course, then there was that whole "evil" phase. Hmmm....
Well, that depends. Am I Willow Season 1, or do I get to pick the season;p As I recall, she got some serious magic powers later. Of course, then there was that whole "evil" phase. Hmmm....Here is the map of Skadas Shee Krieg made for the party, excessive GIMP filters included:
http://www.angelfire.com/id/deathquaker/gaming/images/wworld/SkadasShee.JPG
Hooray for controlly and Buffy Eldritch Knights. I suppose that makes Morag Willow.
Dude, she's level 18. I'd say she's last season, but pre-white witch.
And if for some reason Durran ever shows up, seeing Morag go black-eyes and flay him alive will not surprise me. :)
The next time anyone dies, however, the price will not be diamonds, but all four players must sing "I've got a theory."
Dheza: We have to try
Kieren: We've paid our price
Axel: It's do or die
Morag: Hey I died twice...
(Yes, I know that's Buffy's line, not Willow's)
Well, that depends. Am I Willow Season 1, or do I get to pick the season;p As I recall, she got some serious magic powers later. Of course, then there was that whole "evil" phase. Hmmm....Here is the map of Skadas Shee Krieg made for the party, excessive GIMP filters included:
http://www.angelfire.com/id/deathquaker/gaming/images/wworld/SkadasShee.JPG
Hooray for controlly and Buffy Eldritch Knights. I suppose that makes Morag Willow.
Dude, she's level 18. I'd say she's last season, but pre-white witch.
And if for some reason Durran ever shows up, seeing Morag go black-eyes and flay him alive will not surprise me. :)
The next time anyone dies, however, the price will not be diamonds, but all four players must sing "I've got a theory."
Dheza: We have to try
Kieren: We've paid our price
Axel: It's do or die
Morag: Hey I died twice...(Yes, I know that's Buffy's line, not Willow's)
ROFLMAO!
And yes, when Durran shows up, flaying him is on the agenda. Right after that is "hello" and it goes on from there.
And I say "when" because sooner or later he has to show up. I might have to take the city apart to find him, but I get the feeling we haven't met all the players in this little game just yet.
ROFLMAO!
You seem to think I'm joking.
>:)
And yes, when Durran shows up, flaying him is on the agenda. Right after that is "hello" and it goes on from there.And I say "when" because sooner or later he has to show up. I might have to take the city apart to find him, but I get the feeling we haven't met all the players in this little game just yet.
The four of you are the players. I believe you've met.
I can't of course respond to the rest of what you've said, but I can safely say Durran has left a lasting legacy in Skadas Shee.
You seem to think I'm joking.
>:)
Well, if that's the way you want to run it, fine, but remember to be careful what you ask for, you might just get it. As I don't know the song in question, that means I get to make up lyrics, which means a whole lot of "WATERMELON", as my old chorus teacher taught me to do when I didn't know the words.
The four of you are the players. I believe you've met.
I'm not sure. Do I know anyone at this game? And who're you again, besides a phantom voice on the internet?
I can't of course respond to the rest of what you've said, but I can safely say Durran has left a lasting legacy in Skadas Shee.
And I hope to find that legacy and render it up for XP. I hope to do the same to him, only moreso. When Morag's had a good night's rest, of course. The ice queen Chosen needs her beauty sleep. And rouge, apparently;)
Well done, Lathiira and DeathQuaker! Love the story so far and the campaign setting seems to be rich with flavor and detail.
I really enjoy Morag's point of view on things and the "side" stories are great introspects of the characters. Would love to see more!!
Thanks so much, Karlan! Glad you've been reading along. Hopefully we'll have another session in the not-too-distant future, though summer's a bear to schedule sessions.
Let me know if you have any questions.
Well done, Lathiira and DeathQuaker! Love the story so far and the campaign setting seems to be rich with flavor and detail.
I really enjoy Morag's point of view on things and the "side" stories are great introspects of the characters. Would love to see more!!
Thanks for the accolades! We're trying (Deathquaker and I) to get a few words from the other players. Now we've got a few from the arcane archer (Kieren) and from our eldritch knight (Dheza). I hope they'll keep adding as we go along. I enjoy writing this a lot, though my friends would probably smite me if I ever played another character like this one again;)
For a point of reference (and bragging rights), I have a printed copy of all the journal entries here, including Kieren's and Dheza's words. My own part of this counts 78 pages in Office 2007. That's single-spaced, with page breaks between entries. Add a couple pages for maps and Kieren and Dheza's work. In comparison, my M.S. thesis was only a little over 80 pages, double-spaced, same font size, and took me almost as long to write! Maybe at some point I SHOULD publish this thing....
Session Journal Sixteen
Scrithengard Date: Fifth Marketday of Ataloom
We hastily retreated outside the city after the night's debacle. Kieren located a suitable place to serve as our camp and used his tiny hut incantation to give us some cover. Axel stood watch while the rest of us rested and regained our full strength. I healed everyone of their lingering injuries, including the negative energy that infused me as I returned across the Shadowed Veil. I spent time in prayer and found that Death was listening, for my magic was renewed.
Axel reported that several guardmen had come near our hiding place only to be silenced by a human-sized humanoid that he never managed to get a good look at. A small winged humanoid flew off when Axel spotted it as well. I think that the flying humanoid returned later, however, as a homunculus approached our camp with a scroll. Axel unsealed the scroll and read the message. It was a missive sent on behalf of Endaras do Sheen by Reena do Sheen. The message was simple enough; an offer of alliance, nothing more. If we agreed, we were to touch the sigil on the bottom of the scroll. After a brief conference, we agreed to go. I informed my companions that Death had suggested that we look at certain threats as opportunities, which I hope changed their minds if but a little. To me, this seemed obvious, but then again, I look at the world differently. We told the small creature to depart, which it did, and we together triggered the sigil on the scroll.
A moment later we appeared in a subterranean summoning circle. A woman, obviously a spellcaster of some type, waited there. She introduced herself as Reena do Sheen. Reena do Sheen was more stocky and short than the taller and leaner members of the Sheen House, but with the characteristic long, lank black hair, inquisitive eyes, and ruddy skin many Andorri have. Flanking her were two elemental creatures of fire and stone that I believe were ember guards, a rare elemental from the boundary between the planes of Earth and Fire if I recall correctly. We began an earnest discussion about the situation within the city. She knew about our raid into the cathedral, even mentioning that there had been a death. I was surprised to hear that she knew of this, and this put me on my guard. Reena hoped that an alliance with us would help Endaras' faction in House Sheen against the church of Skaden, Narra do Sheen's faction, and House Anda. The woman herself didn't seem too keen on Enduras, based on a comment about his pride, but we didn't discuss that further. There was an exchange of information between us and eventually an alarming fact came to light. Nara has been trying to get into the Tower of the King Immortal, so far unsuccessfully. Meekeh told us weeks ago that the King Immortal had kept Durran's soul after claiming his body. I thought that Meekeh had said that Durran's soul was in the Tower. Even if I misremember, that would be the obvious place for it. The tower had been sealed for over a month now, likely since Nathaan had left to come north. The possibility that powerful magic exists in the tower cannot be discounted either. Finally, we came to an agreement. Reena would gather information regarding the disposition of the drow slaves taken from the city beneath Dorshec, while we investigated the Tower of the King Immortal. Reena gave us several potions to help us and we soon departed.
Session Journal Sixteen cont.
The tower was walled, the only entrance looked to be a murder-hole guarded by a porticullis. The amulet we kept from our encounter with the lich served as the key to opening the porticullis, but the far entrance to the murder-hole was trapped to close quickly upon entry. Nonetheless we entered the interior and walked out across a causeway, a yawning abyss below us on either side. A pair of skeletal birds on the tower battlements saw us, but Kieren shot them both down in seconds. At the tower itself, Axel spied an entrance through an arrow slit and Dheza quickly transported us into the tower.
Unfortunately, Dheza dropped us in the midst of five large mobile suits of armor, golems set to deal with intruders. The monsters struck with uncanny accuracy and nearly killed Axel as he danced out of reach of their fists. More blows rained down on us, our best efforts to evade them for naught. I healed myself and Axel and then retreated up a nearby staircase in order avoid taking further harm. Dheza, Axel, and Kieren felled one golem and then began to wear down another. Dheza cast a wall of stone to detain the other three while they did so. As the golems broke through his wall, they ganged up on each one in turn. The last golem vanished, but I heard the heavy tred of its feet as it found its way upstairs and began to walk toward us. When its comrades had fallen, we retreated down the stairs and Dheza greased the stairs with a simple spell. The golem fell down the stairs when its footing was too unsteady and crashed to the floor where the men summarily pounded it into scrap.
The room itself was relatively empty except for a throne of bone. Dheza sat on it, engrossed in thoughts of rulership for a time, but we managed to find a pair of compartments holding several rare spell components. Windows out of the room showed a tower off in the distance, but a hallway led out to a small courtyard filled with apple trees. Kieren and Axel took several cuttings from the trees for purposes I don't want to fathom and we explored the remainder of the floor. The only other room of note was a small dining area, leaving us to decide where we want to go from here.
Somewhere in this tower I expect to find Durran's misbegotten soul. I hope we find other valuables, for we need all the help we can get if we are to stop the church of Skaden from rising to rule Sheenosek. I also begin to wonder who really should rule this land. None of the noble families seem overly trustworthy to me, but I have no better ideas. Right now, I need to rest and gather my thoughts. Crossing back from the Shadowed Veil did nothing to help me deal with my own issues, so I had best concentrate on those while I can.
Saturday's session was truncated a bit, as we were all distracted by various things: Lunch, the great desire to tease Kieren's player, and the Sonic-Blast-Emitting Tear Mephit that the Dungeon Master maybe, just maybe was pausing every two minutes to make funny faces at.
DQ: "Standing on either side of the small sorceress are two... HI THERE! AREN'T YOU CUTE?! ...two huge fiery... BBBBBBBBBBBBBBPT! ... no, more like, you know... what's that... HI!!!! ... magma, that's what it's called. They're all magmaey. AREN'T THEY? THEY'RE ALL LAVA-Y, YES THEY ARE!"
(This is a fluffing of the Bard's attempt to Countersong the shout spell-like ability of the Tear Mephit, which actually was successful about half the time. Meaning the Tear Mephit was an appropriate CR encounter.)
Not that I am complaining at all. :D (I willingly failed my will save versus the Mephit's "Charm Person." Duh.)
I could have tried to put my foot down and made people (including myself) focus, but sometimes getting together to play a game with friends is getting together to play with friends, and as far as I know we were having a good time. There was some serious chillaxing that needed to be done and so it was.
Besides, many golems were pounded, and it was good. You know, CR 13 Iron Golems? Even in large numbers, while an "easy" challenge for a level 18 party, still pretty nasty. That +28 to hit can do a lot of damage. A single Iron Golem versus a level 13 party could do serious damage, even though most don't recommend single monster fights.
Other GM thoughts: engineering a civil war is harder than it looks. There is a distinct challenge when dealing with a situation with multiple factions with different goals, NOT to overcomplicate things. I begin to wonder how people sanely ran a game in a place like, say, Sigil, when you could have up to 12 major organizations actively affecting the world. Of course, ideally you pick one or two and run with it but still... if you run from a point of trying to think about who is important in the world and how they will respond, it's easy to overwhelm yourself with possibilities. Mind, I have been really fascinated by the directions this game has taken (I did not set out from the beginning to have the party go try to get involved in a civil war... things happen...). I like doing this, but it's been an incredible learning experience as well.
Session Journal Seventeen: August 14, 2010
Scrithengard Date: Fifth Marketday of Ataloom—Fifth Wandersday of Ataloom
Once we caught our breath from the battle with the iron golems, we explored our surroundings. The main room was a kitchen, complete with several minor magic items suited to cooking. Rooms adjoining the kitchen included servants' quarters, a garderobe, a pantry, and a broom closet. This entire floor had an air of recent abandonment to it. We found a key in the servants' quarters that was needed to unlock a chest in the pantry, but Axel picked it before Kieren could even brandish the key in the halfling's view. A horn of plenty was locked therein. But the most interesting find was a trapdoor hidden amidst the mess of the broom closet. Once the trap was disarmed—a nasty magical trap that entailed powerful necromancy—we descended below the tower.
We dropped several floors as we climbed down a set of spiral stairs. A short hallway led to a wall. Hidden in that wall was a secret door with a locking mechanism designed to kill those that attempted to open it incorrectly. Axel managed to jam the trap but also jam the door unfortunately. But Kieren stoneshaped an entrance through the stone and we found ourselves in a small room. A capped well with several rubies in the cap was one feature, while a tome some four foot on each side was sitting on a lectern in another corner. Examination of the well revealed that the well was the physical aperture that framed a gate to several other planes. One of those locations was on the Astral plane near a floating fortress. The second was to the planar city known as Sigil. The third location led to the second layer of Hell. That particular location reminded me of something, but I cannot remember exactly what. The fourth location was three interlocking rings that resembled thorny leafless vines to my eye, but none of us knew where the gate would lead us if we triggered that particular option. Once we were sure the gate was closed but still operable, we turned our attention to the book.
Between Dheza, Kieren, and I we soon came to realize that the tome was a rare artifact known as a book of infinite spells! Unfortunately, the book was unable to be moved. The apparent reason for this was soon revealed as the book spoke to us. I was surprised to not only find that such an artifact, but that the tome—named Irak'dras, for its maker, Irac do Andus—was sentient. Irak'dras was cultured, civilized, and very, very bored alone beneath the Tower of the Immortal. Conversation with the tome told us much of the last days of the King Immortal as well as the history of the Sheenosek nation. Of importance to me personally was the revelation that Durran DoSheen had tried to usurp the throne on the basis that the true ruler of Sheenosek, according to prophecy, would be immortal, not unliving as Nathaan had been. Durran apparently had devised some way to achieve this goal and felt that he was therefore better suited for rulership.
It seems my first death had been helpful to that sadist after all.
Session Journal Seventeen cont.
Durran had been tortured for his arrogance by Nathaan, Irak'dras reported, in a torture chamber nearby. What happened to him afterward we learned later as we searched the rest of the tower. Irak'dras also told us how a new king was normally chosen. Kings were chosen by the five most powerful Houses, wherein the scions of those Houses proclaim one of their own king by general consent. If only one House remains, however, it seems that the remaining scion is king by default. The process is more complex than this, but we did not ask for more details into Sheenoseki and Andorran legal matters and I have little interest in such things. We finally knew for sure how each side in this civil war was going to win.
Dheza revealed a telling piece of information during our brainstorming. Our Sheenoseki guide informed us that he had been in mental contact with a succubus for some time. The succubus was the very creature we'd seen and briefly engaged outside of Skadas Shee. Within moments of this revelation his face almost seemed to melt. Not literally, but much of the force of his personality seemed to seep away. If I understand what happened correctly, the succubus had gifted Dheza with a little of her own dark personal aura. When she withdrew the gift, she drained some of Dheza's own personality in return. The result was the Dheza was weaker than before magically, as a sorcerer's magic is keyed to the power of the personality. We harangued him for his folly and I eventually agreed that at my next opportunity I would undo the damage done to him. Much as I'd prefer to let him go unhealed as punishment for his foolishness—foolishness that revealed our plans to the enemy—he is still my ally and we will need him at his best in the days to come.
We left Irak'dras finally, the book's safety in its own formidable hands as only the true king would be permitted to wield its powers. We sealed up our entrance and left by the other door, climbing back up into the tower. This time we were in one of the auxiliary towers facing several stories of various books. Nathaan's library was quite complete, covering history, magical theory, and other diverse topics. We climbed up the tower and left for the main tower again.
The amulet of the king was useful throughout the Tower of the Immortal, permitting us to bypass several different wards. It does not disarm some of the traps though. Axel failed to disarm one such device and suddenly fell over dead as powerful necromancy snuffed out his life with a flash of arcane runes. I brushed Kieren and Dheza aside and quickly invoked a recently-acquired prayer to revive those who had died but not yet begun the journey to Tria's Womb. I managed to act quickly enough that Axel was just barely beyond the Shadowed Veil. He spasmed once, his eyes snapped open, and his chest suddenly heaved as he sucked in his first breath of life. I wonder what he saw in that brief time on the other side....
I restored Axel's life force to the limits of his vitality and we continued our search. The King Immortal's office was our next find. There was a simple desk with the various everyday items one might have found on Jade's desk. The paper and quills were mildly enchanted for erasure of messages and cleanliness. Quite a bit of treasure was found there as well. Sitting on the desk was an incongruous pink mug with a feline design etched into the outer surface. Nathaan was a potter; I expect it was his own workmanship. The eyes of the mug included an unusual stone, a topaz of great value. It took me several moments to realize that the stone was a soul gem.
We'd found Durran's soul.
Session Journal Seventeen, part 3
When I brought the mug close to the door to try to find enough room to call Rhiannon, a message spell was invoked. The King Immortal addressed Narra that she could not have what she found and that not only was Durran not leaving, neither was she. Rhiannon could not answer my call and a glimpse outside a nearby window revealed that a faint bubble of magical force now surrounded the entire tower. Our causeway had also crumbled. We were isolated from the rest of the world.
The adjacent room was a workshop, complete with quite a few gems, pottery tools, and several items of magic. By mutual consent we agreed to rest and work on several different tasks. Our ultimate goal was to leave through the gate beneath the tower, leaving the Tower of the Immortal sealed. Axel scouted the last rooms alone, finding more magic in Nathaan's personal chambers. One such item was a mirror that had been kept covered, later revealed as a mirror of life trapping or some such. Several other defensive and recuperative items were also kept there in case of emergency. Dheza paged through books on various topics while Kieren carefully extracted the soul gem and placed a new replica topaz from the cache of gems in the workshop in its place. My elven friend gave the soul gem into my keeping, knowing there was no better person I rested and prayed for renewed divine favor, because I was going to attempt something I had never tried before.
Several hours later I invoked a minor miracle.
Death heard what I wanted and why I wanted it and while she normally frowned on such things she understood what we were trying to do. I could not exactly duplicate the incantation Nathaan had used, because I am not a wizard or dragon-blooded. So I invoked a weaker spell that allows the arcanist to transfer their own consciousness into a gem. The fake soul gem would still radiate necromantic magic to anyone who observed it and even a detailed examination might trick someone into thinking that they had found the right gem. We did not want any who came after us to think anything other than that they had found Durran's soul.
Session Journal Seventeen, conclusion
Once we had readied ourselves and restored Dheza, we made one more quick trip through the tower to the last auxiliary tower to make sure we were leaving no hidden entrances unfound. We descended beneath the tower, itself of no consequence, down a ladder into an isolated chamber. Adamantine shackles of superior design lined one wall, while various implements of torture sat at the ready on a nearby table. The room reminded me of what had happened to me once, long ago. Memory burst its bonds and I saw Durran smiling as he picked up a tool from that table and approached me, all the while talking casually as if nothing were remiss.
The next thing I knew we were in the room with the gate. I'm told I screamed, collapsed into the fetal position, and cried. I have no recollection of these things. While the others all have a sense of humor, I doubt they are teasing me on this point. I pulled my thoughts together as Kieren opened the gate, making sure we had all of the rubies that were needed to open the gate to its existing keyed locations, and stepped through.
The Astral plane is a void, a misty realm with little to recommend it to those seeking glorious sights to see. We expected to land in a fortress. Perhaps we did, but we appeared inside an enormous library. People of many races I have never seen before went about their business reading and shelving books. Many others were busily repairing shelves and rebuilding walls, a sign that some calamity had recently occurred. One man looked up from his own work repairing pages in an old tome and pointed to a sign behind us as we appeared in their midst. That sign indicated that silence was mandatory in the library. As I read this I realized that the sign was literally correct. Even people rebuilding bookshelves made absolutely no sound.
Now we need to find some manner of insuring Durran is permanently removed from the power struggles of Sheenosek. He had some skill in arcane magic, though how much I do not know. We cannot risk releasing his soul because it is entirely possible that he has a clone of some sort available or that he would manifest as a ghost. That would certainly explain Narra's efforts to find him. I would prefer to send him into the afterlife, but I need to research a ritual of enough potency to ensure his final rest. I may well do that here if no better options come to mind. Axel favors throwing the gem into the Astral I believe, but I know that at best postpones the inevitable. There is also the possibility that the soul gem will still be found and Durran's soul released. This quandary rests heavily on me, but if we can manage this we can keep the potentially most dangerous player in Sheenoseki politics from ever returning.
And just maybe I can finally put my personal demons to rest.
Session Journal Seventeen Interlude
Temptation
I sit here tonight in an otherworldly library, Durran's soul in the palm of my hand, and I wonder what might have been.
If I had remained in Isenor, I would be a mother by now. Ezreth and I would have had children by now, most likely several of them. I see them now, little boys running and playing on the docks as my brother and I once did. Little girls squeeling and giggling as they roam the marketplace, searching for new delights. Sweet smiles for both as I put them to bed and tuck them in, a kiss on each brow.
Durran took that life from me, forever denied me that simple existence. Oh, he was not alone, I know. Kales was the one who took me from Isenor, and one day I will find him and deal with him appropriately. But Durran killed Ezreth for his own experiments. Durran killed Melania for his own schemes. All he left in his wake was the Gatherer of Souls. And now I can collect on what he owes me.
The four of us have tossed ideas back and forth as to what to do with the soul gem now in my keeping. I think we covered the topic thoroughly, and when it comes to souls I am an expert.
We could break the gem. This would release the soul, of course. I do not care to see a soul trapped and forever denied the rewards of the afterlife, but Durran's soul likely would not go on to the afterlife of his own volition. More likely he would manifest as a ghost. And if he did, removing him would be extremely difficult I suspect, for he would likely desire nothing less than rulership of the nation. So this idea is perilous at best.
Another option would be to destroy Durran's soul. The temptation is there, but such a thing goes against all that my Mistress holds dear. And destroying a soul is not easy. It is nigh-impossible. A few undead such as a devourer can do so as well as a rare few artifacts, none of which are available. So this option is unavailable.
I could also use the gate and go directly to Hell. The fiends there would likely barter eagerly for Durran's soul. The rewards would be great, I imagine. Power I have, but not enough to do all I need or want to do. Immortality would be the goal, I think. The layer of Hell the gate opens on to is even one with a city, if I remember my lore correctly. But no. I serve Death. Trafficking in souls is anathema. And it is always possible some devil would release that soul and Durran would find himself born again as a powerful monster, a reward for his horrible deeds.
Keeping the soul gem away from all others is a possibility. Leaving it in the Astral would put it beyond the reach of all but the most powerful individuals. But such a fate is too uncertain. I heard a tale once of a great evil that the forces of humanity sought to destroy that reminds me that evil must be destroyed, not merely contained. The various noble scions of Sheenosek may also have the power to retrieve the soul gem from any prison we could quickly devise.
I could keep the gem, I suppose. But our recent battle in Skaden's cathedral has reminded me that I am still all-too-mortal. If I can die on a demon's claws once, it could happen again. Assuming someone does not simply steal the gem from me.
There are thousands of books around me. Given time, I could research a ritual to permanently lay Durran to rest. The research library here is quite extensive. But as I did my research, the nation would continue to tear itself apart. I have no desire to see these people suffer. I do not know how long I would need to devise this ritual. Perhaps a few days?
Even as a disembodied soul Durran continues to interfere with my life, sadistic creature that he is. He would deserve anything I did to him and then some. I doubt I could ever truly punish him for all he did in life—I lack the imagination and I am too compassionate. But the idea of hearing him scream for all eternity in the pits of Hell sounds so wonderful to my ears....
I need to talk to Rhiannon. Kieren wonders at my anger. His waxes hot whenever he speaks of what happened to the drow beneath Sheenosek. Mine is now a cold flame, a flame so cold it will burn and leave nothing in its wake. Kieren is set up for heartbreak I think when we find the dark elves in Skadas Shee. The southern drow are not as civilized as the northern drow, based on what Kilmaral has told us. The stories we have heard in Sheenosek seem to confirm this. Yet he still desires vengeance, whether he acknowledges this or no. I too want vengeance. But will it truly grant me peace? My heart says no. I need a level head and of those people I know Rhiannon is the wisest by far. She may yet make all this discussion moot if she can deliver Durran where he belongs. Life is seldom so convenient, however, so I think I will plan a bit more. And try to avoid imagining Durran's screams and blood in a torture chamber below the Tower of the Immortal with satisfaction and glee....
Session Journal Eighteen: September 25, 2010
Scrithengard Date: Fifth Wandersday of Ataloom—Sixth Mastersday of Ataloom
The Astral plane is a wondrous place. If I never walk the planes again, I feel that this trip alone was worth it.
Time does not pass in the Astral plane as it does on Scrithengard. None of my friends displayed signs of hunger, thirst, or fatigue while we were on the island bearing the library. We explored the library, which consisted of a dome some one hundred feet in diameter and fifty feet in height with shelves that reached to the ceiling and around the circumference of the dome. Discs of magical force such as those made by wizard apprentices served in place of ladders, letting those using the library reach shelves far above the floor. Axel experimented with one such disc but found that it was unable to move very quickly; I believe he was hoping to enjoy a bit of fun. Many different races used the silent room, including an unusual creature of elfin appearance that directed us via a transparent slate to the information desk.
We soon found ourselves directed from the information desk to a strange automaton that answered our queries. We researched the activities of Nathaan and found that he had not visited the library in several decades after he had been banned. His banning came after he had accidentally summoned an astral kraken to the library. To his credit, he helped fight the creature off, but the damage to the library dome was from that very fight. Nathaan also researched such topics as planar portals and political science in the past, as well as a romantic story and several books on pottery. Our own queries revealed that the ruby-covered well led to the layer of Hell known as Dis as well as Sigil and to a demiplane ruled by a hag that bordered the Gray Wastes. Nathaan may have been in contact with those planes due to his desire to find ways to deal with both the other Houses as well as the Ebon Serpent, who had contact or information on the Deep Ones. The astral kraken was the result of the lich’s experimentation. We also researched the succubus Charity and Wanderer’s Shards but learned nothing of great value. No one else from Sheenosek has been to the library recently although the jann Alamar has visited at some time in the past.
Nathaan left something on the astral isle in the adjacent rest area, known as the Astral Winds. We left the dome and paused for a moment as we took in the sight of the endless Astral sea. When we reached the building, we were greeted by a genie by the name of Rabi. We presented the amulet of the King Immortal in order to gain access to what he left behind, but were called upon to pay the genie several small gems to access Nathaan’s stored goods. We found various research notes regarding the Ebon Serpent, a signet ring of House Khan that would grant access to one of the inner rooms of the house, and a large slab of ruby identical to that found at the well and to the ruby gate that Kieren carries.
Session Journal Eighteen cont.
Armed with more information, we debated what to do with Durran as I called Rhiannon to me and I informed her of recent events. I was touched when she asked after my well-being, but I told her that I would speak with her later on that matter. Finally, divine inspiration struck me as we discussed the possibility of trekking to Kieren’s home cosmos. I recalled that I might appeal to Tria herself to deal with Durran by journeying to the Deep Green and visiting Tria’s Glade. This plan met with approval with the others, so I gathered them close and opened my first portal between worlds and returned us to Scrithengard.
Our arrival point was a street in the midst of the elven capital city of Kauselia. A score of armed elves greeted us and Dheza introduced our party to them. Dheza translated my words into the elven language as I explained our cause. We were permitted use of a guest house while we waited to speak to someone with the authority to help us. Kieren departed briefly to procure more arrows and a more efficient magical means of carrying them but rejoined us soon after. Axel in turn purchased a cloak designed to permit limited gliding between the trees and began to practice with it extensively. We waited for a time until an older elven woman of regal bearing came to us, a woman we eventually concluded was the elven matriarch Miriamsalee. She was soon informed of our needs and agreed to lend us the services of the druid Tanaya to guide us to Tria’s Glade, along with a warning to avoid straying from the trail.
Tanaya arrived soon after Miriamsalee’s departure and we began our journey through the forest. That land proved to be almost sentient in its own right and filled with any number of fey, treants, animals, magical beasts, and even a green dragon or two. The forest filled me with a sense of peace and tranquility that I have lacked these past few weeks, a welcome respite from the never-ending whirl of thoughts in my mind. My companions were occasionally tempted to leave the path by the fey creatures but managed to resist those urges. We camped overnight and used the items taken from the Tower of the Immortal to cook dinner over. On the following morning Kieren cooked griddle-cakes with chocolate as a supplement to my divine feast. I confess that I ate several; if nothing else, he knows how to cook.
Session Journal Eighteen, part 3
Finally we arrived at a curtain of vines and Tanaya sent us through alone, telling us that he would wait for us to return. The vines parted at his command and then closed behind us as we left, leaving us to enter a grove. Greeting us was a huge unicorn, a creature of rare beauty and majesty. Golden skin offset the mithril circlet at his brow and the partial barding of green dragon scales while his eyes held wisdom far beyond what any of us possess. Rhiannon and the unicorn acknowledged one another, as Rhiannon had told me she’d been there once before. Telepathically the unicorn announced that he was the Keeper of the Glade and asked why we came. I spoke to him formally in the Sylvan language of our desire to rid the world of Durran forever. He nodded in understanding and told us to wait while he consulted the Mother herself. The mighty creature departed for a time and then returned with the advice of the Mother herself. The Keeper suggested that he could reincarnate Durran and let him continue the cycle of life. This would erase the knowledge and skills he’d possessed as well as his personality but leave a soul intact. This neat solution pleased all of us, as we’d contemplated eternal imprisonment or even annihilation previously. We gave him the soul gem as he unearthed an altar of living plants. As I sat the stone on the altar I asked if it were possible to speak with the soul within. The Keeper advised me against it, and I acknowledged the point. Part of me wanted to taunt that wretch once before his demise, I admit, but another part wanted to wish him well and that we would never meet again. I stepped back as the Keeper touched the stone with his horn. The stone exploded into dust and then coalesced around the soul within. Moments later a fruit bat flew off into the sky in search of his first meal.
Durran was gone forever.
Session Journal Eighteen, conclusion
We thanked the ancient creature and asked how we could repay him. His only request was that we ensured that Skaden’s church did not come near the grove again, as they had threatened it before. We agreed, as that was our goal in part regardless, and departed amiably. I trailed behind with Rhiannon. She turned and exchanged parting words with the Keeper, while I stared up into the sky in the direction that the bat had flown off. I wiped away a few tears before catching up with the others, for I had no desire to bear the brunt of Kieren’s teasing.
Tanaya guided us to the southern edge of the forest and parted the thick wall of brambles that separated the hills of Sheenosek from the Deep Green. Slipping through the barrier, we spotted a border patrol of gnolls in the distance. Tanaya had given us our bearings, so Dheza conjured several phantom steeds for the others. Mounted, we flew off toward the capital and left the creatures alone.
A storm raged over Skadas Shee, a storm curiously located only over the city itself. Lightning flashed down and struck at the city guardsmen far below. Mixed with the guardsmen were drow, dark elves fighting everyone they met. We were horrified when one drow man slit the throat of a small child in his frothing rage. This act galvanized us into action even as bolts fell from the heavens into our ranks, singing me but leaving the others intact.
Kieren scared off the guards at the city gate with a fireball. He then convinced those drow he could to flee the city. Axel engaged the frothing maniac first, missing his attack as he dropped from his steed but landing safely. Dheza disintegrated the priestess we spotted on the street even as Kieren’s arrows struck the drow male, but the various drow warriors were too fanatical in their devotion to Berea to stand down. I reached into the berserk warrior’s body and pushed him beyond his already formidable limits, exhausting him. Axel struck repeatedly at the man as Kieren punctured his lungs with more arrows. Dheza engaged several other drow but was soon flanked and stabbed in the back. I could see the knight weaken and knew immediately that he’d been poisoned. My temper began to fray as I stared down at the warrior who would not collapse and I blasted him with holy fire. As his skeleton collapsed to the ground I turned to the nearby drow warriors and threatened them with a simple “who’s next?”
Dheza sliced his foes to ribbons and burned those who stood behind him before downing a potion to cure the poison. I removed the aftereffects and then channeled the energy of life to heal his injuries and my own. Then a fat bureaucrat approached us from the prison and introduced himself as the warden. He blubbered in fear and gratitude about our assistance, but despite our combined efforts he would not reveal who had freed the drow. We took the time to search his office and found that Berkas DoAnda had been interrogating the drow every week, making the prison outbreak a likely diversion instigated by House Anda. The only drow in the prison were political prisoners, nobles and their retainers; the common drow had been sent to the slave markets of Garruk. We scooped up some coins and an enchanted rod as well. In search of further information as to what exactly had happened, I tried to speak with one of the fallen drow but I could not call his spirit to me. Dheza freed one prisoner, Ivar, and took him as a retainer in exchange for verification of what we had learned from the warden’s journals.
House Anda, House Khan, and the clergy of Skaden were conspicuously absent in the fighting. Anda and Khan have been fighting, and we know that the church of Skaden is scheming and has been working on some ritual. Our next move needs to be determined and quickly, for a diversion now would tell us that someone is making their move for power. I hope we can stop them before another evil claims this land, or else we may be forced to depose another king just to bring the madness here to an end.
Session Eighteen Interlude
A Release from Pain
I watched the small bat fly away into the deep blue sky, ignoring for a moment the majesty of the Keeper of Tria’s Glade. That small little creature was all that remained of the nightmare that had ruled my entire existence, one insignificant creature lost to sight almost immediately after its birth. I fancied for a moment that I felt my heart fly freely as well. Durran was gone, his soul reincarnated in the endless cycle of life, death, and rebirth that is central to Tria’s doctrine.
I barely heard the exchange between Dheza, Axel, Kieren, and the Keeper. Rhiannon eyed me, her concern and compassion clear in her eyes. I was nearly overwhelmed by the plethora of emotions I felt. Joy, exhilaration, satisfaction—it is a wonder that I didn’t laugh aloud all the way out of the Deep Green. I wiped away tears nonetheless as we left the Glade; I had no desire to have my good spirits interrupted by Kieren’s normal humor. I think the Keeper knew quite a bit more than he let on, but if Tria told him or he divined it on his own so be it. I think he’ll keep my secrets.
Rhiannon and I spoke as we flew south to Skadas Shee. When we had parted ways, Krieg had awakened my lost memories, bringing Melania back to the world from whence she came. A scant few days later, a glabrezu tore me apart and we met again in the afterlife. We parted again in the temple of Atanna, and since that time we had infiltrated—Axel’s word, not mine—the Tower of the Immortal, looted it, searched it, spoken to a relic from the days before the rise of Sheenosek, and then escaped into the Astral plane. Within the past few weeks, I had remembered my long lost past, died again, risen from my grave once more, and then finally dealt the final stroke against the man who had brought me into the world. Describing my feelings to Rhiannon was difficult.
I still feel as though I am two people. Melania is the elder of the two, but Morag is the stronger. Melania is the habit I had broken, while Morag is the person I am. Melania lost her husband and her life, which resulted in the birth of the Gatherer of Souls. And so I am here now, wondering if I am Melania or Morag, still unable to reconcile the two women. At least, to some extent; I am not suffering from some mental illness that forces me to switch from one to the other. But the knowledge that I have a family waiting for me in San Elspet is there now, as well as the fact that I am a bereaved widow and yet also a creature of legend, the Chosen of Death.
One singular fact is drawing both sides together. I still can’t recall every grisly detail of my time as a slave, but I am sure Durran will feature prominently in the memories I have yet to recollect. I have already learned that he had some sort of plan for such a day as he found himself inconveniently dead. But he can’t hurt us—me—anymore. No more pain, no more loss…I have already lost enough to him. My love, my life, peace of mind, perhaps my sanity…now I can perhaps reclaim what I have lost. Perhaps now that face will stop haunting my dreams. And maybe, maybe I can admit that I was once Melania Corello, but now I am the Gatherer of Souls, now and forever more. Maybe Melania can lie in peace as well, her death avenged, though her body and soul will walk the world a while longer. I can give her family closure, at the least. And when I do, the healing process can be declared done. Right now, the world has no need for Melania. Sheenosek has no need for Melania, a textile merchant from Isenor. No, Sheenosek needs the Gatherer of Souls. The nation may not want me, but by all the Council gods and my Mistress herself, the Gatherer is returning to Skadas Shee to finish what she started, whether I am wanted or not.
As I approach the capital I see a storm hovering over the city, a weather to match my mood. I have been distracted, indecisive, fragile, even weak and melancholy. Now I am free of my burden, and I will make the villains of this city tremble at the mere mention of my name before I am done here. If I leave any at all….
No, I must not let my lingering pain and anger rule my actions in the days to come. There is battle in the streets of the capital, a sign that someone is making their move to claim the throne. While I must act to guide this nation to different path than the one it has trod for centuries, I mustn't forget what is most important in all this.
Ezreth, my heart, you are avenged at last. And so am I.
Very nice interlude.
For fun/curiosity, here is a map of the Astral Library:
http://www.angelfire.com/id/deathquaker/gaming/images/astrallibrary2grid.JP G
The globes in the one room represent a planar orrery that the party visited. (And wtf? Apparently Firefox's spellcheck doesn't know what an orrery is. Or a spellcheck, for that matter.)
D'oh, I forgot to mention the orrery and how we verified where the ruby gate was leading people to. I hate it when I forget things! Oh well, so be it.
I figured Morag was choosing not to be impressed with it. :) You did mention that you found out where the various portals went from the variant Well of Many Worlds (not the Ruby Gate, which is Keiren's broken device). :)
Besides, half of the orrery scene was KC not understanding why there was no "you are here" star. :)
Not much impresses Morag, but when you've met your goddess a few times, really, what should? ;)
Besides, she has max ranks in Knowledge (planes). She probably has the thing memorized anyway from her courses in the planes.
Final Exam Question: Draw a map of all the planes in their proper configuration.
Morag: Great. And I don't have ranks in any Craft or Profession skills.
But yes, the "you are here" sign was probably the highlight of the orrery room;p
Speaking of meeting impressive individuals, I forgot to include this in session as things were predictably chaotic---but The Guardian of Tria's Grove (the unicorn) says as you leave, "I'm certain we shall meet again, Gatherer of Souls."
I figured out of course the best way to explain it later. It's as if you were standing in a giant solar system orrery, and you are standing on a globe representing Earth, with the moon going around your head, you look in the direction of the sun and see venus going past, etc.
Except of course more confusing as different planes would come and go and overlap and shift constantly (I figure the orrery was largely the best known outer planes but could call up different images of demiplanes, etc. if called for).
My reply to the Guardian would have been "Yes, we will meet again, I think. For Tria's sake, may that day be long in coming." Typical gloom-and-doom with Morag being REALLY distracted. Go figure.
Session Journal Nineteen:November 13, 2010
Scrithengard Date: Sixth Mastersday of Ataloom
Darkness fell while we finished quelling the drow prison riot. When the local garrison managed to regain control of the streets, our small group conferred in the prison yard as to our next attack. One of the guards told us that whatever announcement was to be made by House Anda had never happened, as the riot broke out shortly before that particular event was due. After much debate, we concluded that the best thing to do was to return to the cathedral and remove the power base of the Skadenites from the political arena. We did not care overmuch as to which house rose to power, but Skaden could not come to rule Sheenosek. This was a point on which we could all agree.
Under the cover of darkness we approached the cathedral once more. This time Axel scouted out the building while we waited in an empty merchant's stall nearby. The sturdy adamantine doors were wide open, an invitation if ever we had seen one. The only person we could see without entering the building was an old woman sweeping the floor. Kieren took the time to fletch a few arrows. I stared at the cathedral, a few faint memories stirring as I tried to recall the layout of the building from my previous visits.
Axel returned some time later with his report. He had managed to reach the floor below the main temple and found the room where Narra Do'Sheen worked. She was apparently quite mad, muttering about finding her lover and ruling the nation as by his side as his slave. Hearing that Narra had seemingly gone mad brought a cold smile to my face. She conjured her pet glabrezu again before leaving to consult someone, but she also had warded the door. My halfling friend knew where her office was located, so we decided to prepare ourselves and then once more slip through the dimensions to attack the temple directly.
A minute later we had cast all the spells we wanted, including spells to protect from evil creatures, to resist lightning, to create multiple false images of ourselves, and so on. Armored with magic we dimension doored into Narra's office and face-to-thigh with the glabrezu. The magic surged through us, burning as we appeared. The demon showed no sign of surprise at our arrival. Kieren struck first, putting his augmented speed to work as he slammed four arrows into the monster's chest. Dheza's blows slammed home as well, but his blade barely managed to penetrate the demon's magical defenses and his follow-up spell unfortunately failed. Axel appeared behind the creature from wherever he had been shunted by our arrival, but the demon called up reinforcements. We could all hear multiple pops as a murder of vrocks appeared in the room beyond the glabrezu, some even in the hallway outside. I wasted no time in countering his advantage and spoke a word of creation. Another series of popping noises came to our ears as the vrocks were banished back to their Abyssal home. The glabrezu seemed almost physically ill for a moment but shrugged off the effect of my spell. More arrows struck home, followed by Axel and Dheza's blows. Dheza's attacks sparked a burst of fiery beams from the eldritch knight's free hand, but the demon seemed unfazed by his attack. To our surprise, it teleported away, choosing not to fight any longer. After my first run-in with the creature, I admit to some relief that the monster chose discretion over valor.
The door suddenly exploded as a vrock slammed the door hard enough to trigger the glyphs that had warded it as well as to knock the door free of its hinges. The trap failed to harm any of us as it exploded and we retaliated quickly. Axel dove between its legs as Dheza ran up to the vulture demon and slammed home several blows. Kieren's arrows did their deadly work and I stood back, letting the men deal with the creature. Two of the eight images of Dheza winked out as the vrock tried to rake him. More arrows struck home, as did Dheza's falchion and Axel's rapier, but the monster's supernaturally-toughened hide stopped their blows from doing much harm. I stepped forward and filled Dheza's blade with power from the upper planes to help him break through, but it wasn't necessary as Kieren's arrows finally brought the creature down.
Session Journal Nineteen, part 2
A search of the room revealed a few books and other valuables but no sign of Nara. Even a search of the nearby room of broken bones, candle stubs, and blood revealed nothing. Finally Kieren managed to find her trail and led us into another nearby storeroom. A dedicated search found a door concealed in a wall hidden by illusion. Behind the door was a small circle that resembled the teleportation circles of the major cities of the Mevvergard.
Moments later we found ourselves in the catacombs beneath the cathedral. My skin began to crawl as soon as we appeared, the entire catacomb unhallowed and warded against creatures of high moral caliber. The halls seemed especially loathsome to me, for this was a place where Death was an enemy, not a friend. I knew I was in a place of particular importance to me, for we were drawing near to where Melania had died. Together, these feelings made me somewhat nauseous.
Walking down the hallway before us, Axel found no traps in the alcoves or in the hall itself. We were soon greeted by the unliving spirit of a fallen priest that cackled annoyingly overhead. I told the creature to depart before I made a point of dealing with it, for I had other business. It shied away but continued to trail behind us as we walked down the halls. At the far end the wall was covered with skulls, skulls that shrieked at our approach. That unholy scream summoned three shadowy undead garbed in ancient arms and armor to attack us. Axel moved up to give Kieren protection as the arcane archer fired a volley into the nearest undead. It was visibly startled by Kieren's attack, surprised that it had been injured. Dheza's sword flashed in the dim light as he slammed several blows home, sparks of force wounding the creature further.
The three creatures attacked the men, their blows doing little direct harm to flesh but instead draining them of strength. I countered this by unleashing the most potent healing magic at my command, blasting the shadows with positive energy while wiping away all signs of injury in my companions. The unsolid nature of the creatures reduced the effectiveness of my attack, but the creatures steamed as their negative energies burned away. One began to flicker weakly as Dheza and Axel continued to attack, followed by a volley of arrows by Kieren. Once more the shadows attacked, and once more I wiped away the effects of their blows. The flickering creature vanished from the onslaught, leaving the men to finish off the heucuva and the other two shadows.
We now stand here, pausing to catch our breath. Somewhere in these catacombs we will find Narra Do'Sheen. I look forward to this with great anticipation. But there is something else we will find as well, something that is just as important to me.
Somewhere within the mountainside I will also find my birthplace.
Session Journal Twenty: December 4, 2010
Scrithengard Calendar Date: Sixth Wandersday of Ataloom—First Triasday of Skadesloom (early morning hours)
We took a few moments after fighting the shadows to examine their remains, but between the shadows and the heucuva the only item of value we found was a silver bracelet. Kieren examined the halls and found Narra's trail again. Axel called forth his shadowy servant and sent it ahead to scout as I tended the last of our injuries. The creature returned minutes later, rushing back to Axel. Down one path, the corridor twisted and turned, the alcoves giving way to reliefs. Beyond the reliefs was a chamber where a solitary creature stood behind the ominous curtain of a blade barrier. A second corridor led to a chamber with a six-armed creature. Based on the description Axel relayed to me, I guessed the monster to be a powerful demon known as a marilith. We chose to explore the corridor that led to where the blade barrier and its creator awaited. While Kieren found that Narra's tracks led to the marilith, we were worried about our chances of overcoming such a creature in battle and opted for exploration. I think we all secretly hoped to find some weapon to help us against such a powerful demon, or perhaps an alternate path past the creature.
The reliefs told the story of a great general of old Andorras. Early reliefs depicted his victories against the armies of the Empire. I noted that the Empire armies were depicted harshly, even malevolently. A figure with a distinct resemblance to the King Immortal crowned the general in one key picture. Finally, the general was shown falling in battle on the spears and spells of the Empire's armies. This relief was the last one before we reached the door leading to the sarcophagus of this fallen warrior. Over the door was an inscription:
The Honored Domain of Ramun do Mar the Everliving
Session Journal Twenty, part 2
We entered the room to find the priest standing before us, armored in adamantine plate, wielding a wicked battle-ax. Old linen rags were wrapped around his exposed flesh, covering what little could be seen and clearly telling me that we faced a mummy. Unfortunately, ten dark wraiths served as his honor guard in his unlife.
Dheza dispelled the monster's blade barrier as Axel moved forward to engage the enemy. I strode after him and released my power. I could feel my Mistress' touch as my aura burst forth to protect us against attacks meant to snuff out life and drain life from us, fortifying us in this unholy place. I was grateful for Death's intervention when the wraiths attacked. While their touch chilled to the bone, our lifeforce was secure against their predations. Kieren's arrows began taking their toll on the wraiths closest to the door but the ranger himself was slow to follow Axel and I into the room. The mummy spoke to Dheza, his tone commanding even in undeath.
“What House do you serve?”
Dheza's reply was brief. “House Besal. You probably never heard of us,” he added deprecatingly.
“Ah,” the general answered, seemingly satisfied.
This battle was long and wearisome, so I will keep my account brief. The unliving priest slammed his axe down into Axel's chest with the force of a hurricane. Axel wobbled on his feet and looked down to find his entrails now hanging freely. The blade had split the halfling's armor as a knife cuts an apple. Several wraiths sensed his weakness and renewed their attack on him, but they could not quite finish him. A blast of fire from my hands dispatched several wraiths, leaving me to heal him of his wounds. Kieren slowly worked his way toward us, finishing several more wraiths. Dheza and Axel landed several blows on the general, but his unnatural resilience, magical defenses, and heavy armor thwarted most of their attacks. It was Kieren's arrows that finally felled him. We spent the next several minutes destroying the remaining wraiths and their reinforcements.
The sarcophagus was warded with glyphs keyed to use negative energy on any creature reaching in, but Dheza dispelled those wards. Between the mummy and the coffin we found several scrolls of divine magic, a valuable focus for the repulsion incantation, the creature's enchanted armor and battle axe, magical incense, material components for a variety of divine incantations, and a very unusual tiara. The priest wore the very crown he wore in life, the Crown of the Everliving. This item enhances all of the mental faculties of the wearer as well as strengthens the wearer's ability to channel negative energy. I will be able to reverse that given sufficient time, but I am still pleased to have the additional enhancements in the meantime. Finally, we found an unusual platinum holy symbol of Skaden that was enchanted with minor magics and of greater than normal sturdiness.
Tired as we were, we had to pause and consider our options. Narra was somewhere beyond the marilith, we knew. I suggested that we retreat and rest, if we wished to fight the creature. While Dheza had not used much of his innate power, I had used quite a bit of my own power by that point. Axel pointed out that we knew something was going on, that Narra had come down to the catacombs for a reason and that retreat meant risking worse things happening. Dheza suggested that we try to talk to the creature. In the end, after discussing contingencies for battle and escape, this is the path we ultimately opted for. Dheza knows the Abyssal tongue and was the obvious choice for our diplomat.
To my pleasant surprise the demoness was willing to talk with us. She was more than happy to let us pass if we agreed in turn to thwart House Khan's plans. She revealed that House Khan was planning to somehow merge Skadas Shee with the city of Dis. We all paused in astonishment at this revelation. Assuming she was telling the truth—a risky proposition to be sure, that meant that somehow Khan was planning to literally send the capital to Hell. We knew that diabolic interests were at work in the city, but we never had imagined the scale of their operations. Dheza gladly shook hands with her to seal the deal. I could see a faint whorl of magic flow between the two of them, and the marilith vanished. As a precautionary measure I attempted to dispel any evil magics at work on Dheza, but I do not know if I was successful.
The door we found behind the marilith's former position was sealed, but the platinum symbol of Skaden we had obtained proved to be the key. We cast a few more spells to protect ourselves and opened the door.
Session Journal Twenty, part 3
Beyond the door was my worst nightmare made real. Narra stood in conversation with Durran, speaking animatedly. Four more men, each identical to Durran, stood around the room. A sixth Durran laid unmoving on the altar near the back of the chamber, beside which stood a table with various implements of sacrifice and torture. And a score more copies of the former High Priest of Skaden lined the walls in some sort of stasis. The floors were stained with blood so darkly that the very ground seemed slippery despite the age of the blood.
This chamber was where Melania died.
I held my ground, forcing down the memories that now finally broke free. I remembered bleeding to death over the altar there, skin flensed from the flesh, Durran's mocking words as he departed. That vision swam before my eyes for a second before I squashed it down by sheer force of will. With perfect clarity I understood that Melania was truly dead. This place was an unholy place, dedicated to the god of undeath and an abomination in Death's eyes. But I also felt a strange sense of peace despite the situation. It was because of Melania's death that Death had chosen me as her servant. Because Melania died, this place could now be destroyed. In a way, Durran had done nothing more than assure the destruction of the seat of his own power.
I stepped past Axel and Dheza, my strides swift and sure. I heard Dheza bark a warning that five of the Durran copies were glabrezu but I didn't care. I took a deep breath, intoned a brief prayer, and then screamed my rage aloud. I felt Death's power surge forward, hungry for lives, but only two of the copies were in any way affected by the necromantic power I had released. They paled even as their forms changed, their illusions vanishing to reveal their true forms. Narra and the other three resisted my most powerful incantation, their unholy power shielding them from my righteous wrath.
Dheza struck before our enemies could act, pointing a finger at Narra. One moment she stood there, cursing; the next, a sheep stood in her place, bleating in surprise. The glabrezu all showed their amusement at this turn of events but still attacked. Two spoke words of arcane power, striking Axel and Dheza dumb for several precious seconds. The two that were closest lashed out at Dheza and nearly killed him in a flurry of claws, pincers, and bites. I healed our injuries as Kieren's reliable arrows felled one of the two closest demons. Axel pulled out the magical mirror we'd taken from the Tower of the Immortal and showed it to one of the other creatures, but it resisted his efforts to draw it into the mirror's dimensional pockets. Kieren felled the next demon as the rest warded themselves with the same incantation Dheza commonly used to create multiple illusory images of himself. The sheep tried to do something and received several arrows for her efforts. Dheza shook his head to clear it and tried to slip through the dimensions to Narra's side but his spell failed unexpectedly. A demon managed to dispel the polymorph on Narra and the sheep was once more a woman. A word of power robbed me of my senses, the arcane word driving my thoughts into a swirl of chaos. I lost precious seconds as I tried to fight my way free of the spell. I saw hideous wounds open up on my friends; far too many demons appeared and disappeared before a third glabrezu fell. Narra was shot and blasted until beams of fire sprung from Dheza's hand to burn her to a crisp. I noted that the demons' bodies were not disappearing as they died, which is unusual in the extreme. A field of black tentacles sprang up around the demons, holding them long enough for the others to finally gain the upper hand. Dheza 's prior incantation to leave them exhausted proved fortuitous, as they could not escape the tentacles. The demons closest to Narra's corpse were strangely reaching out and devouring the ashes, an act with unknown significance. After several long, tense minutes, the remaining demons were destroyed.
We are currently searching the room for valuables and information as I sit here and write these words. The Durran copy on the altar bears a magical staff and the Robes of the Heir of Andor'sek, another item of mystical power and historical importance. The Robes increase the resistance of the wearer to all sorts of attacks as well as increase the power of a sorcerer's blood powers. There's more treasure here as well, but for right now I will put down my pen and just enjoy the strange feeling of peace. Half of the catacombs are still unexamined; Namak Do'Anda is yet to be accounted for; House Khan is planning Hell on earth. There is much yet to do, but I will just revel in the feeling of closure.
Session Twenty Interlude
Lives past and present
"Ah, camp. No matter how cold or damp or uncomfortable," Axel thinks, "I always find something restful and homey about the process of making camp. Stupid Tiny Hut. Anyway, everyone's too beat for a big meal, but the fire's cheery and a pot of boiling water is the start of any number of things that will comfort and make the group's time in camp more restful." Axel idly pokes at the fire as he assesses what his friends are up to.
Axel observes, "Morag prays. Today was a tough day for her. Tough for everyone, with the fighting and death and all, but coming back here has been especially tough for her. But after the last fight today something changed. Maybe she was able to put something behind her? Who can say? Heh. Who would be asking, anyway?"
Moving on. Axel notes that Kieren counts and catalogs the treasure. Again. Axel thinks, "Don't understand that. When I realized that all I have to do to have something is to take it, I stopped really wanting anything. But he's got a plan and an artifact that will take you anywhere, so he bears watching."
Axel turns his attention to Dheza, who just magic-ed away the dirt he was covered with and is now combing pomaid into his hair. "It would be easy to disregard him as a fop, but he waded into the thick of it today. If only I could get him to pay attention to something other than how his shoes look..."
Turning back to the pot of water, Axel muses, "So, coffee? Yeah, I'll go for a couple of cups with cocoa and offer to pull first watch."
Morag's done. Axel hears her moving behind him. Thinks, "She'll probably hit the hay." He hears her stand, hesitate, then let out a big sigh. Now footsteps heading head his way. Thinks again, "Maybe she wants tea. Yeah, I'll offer her tea. Everyone likes a nice fresh hot tea."
Morag stops behind Axel and pauses. Axel asks, "Tea?"
Morag is slow to respond. "Actually, if you have a few minutes Axel, I'm curious about what you experienced several days ago when you died in the Tower of the Immortal."
Session Journal 20 Interlude cont.
She pauses and Axel thinks, "Oh Seffi, what brought this on? Morag is asking me about death? That's like me asking Jour about sneaking and backstabbing. Crap! What would Jour do? He'd put on his 'nice' face and talk his way through..." Axel smiles up at her.
Perhaps reading Axel's lack of immediate response as more than it is, Morag continues, "I understand if you don't want to talk about it. Or if you're forbidden by your god from doing so." Morag waits for Axel's response.
"Ah, no. No forbidance that I know of. Here, sit." Axel drags over a blanket and folds it into a pad next to him before patting it. While Morag arranges herself, Axel throws some tea and herbs into a tiny cloth bag, puts the bag in a cup, pours boiling water over the bag and hands the cup to Morag, saying, "Let that steep." Axel then preps a cup of coffee for himself, using the time to collect his thoughts.
"You know, I can't dwell on death. For a long time now I've been surrounded by it. Plenty of killing, wars and strife and such. But I can't really bring death into consideration before I act. I mean, if I thought about dying all the time, it would make me hesitate. It would make most of the things I do seem reckless or maybe just dirt stupid.
And now I'm traveling with a representative of Death and I could still barely think about it. I'm not disrespecting Death, but for a while there I was terrified of dying. Sorry..."
Axel pauses, "But now it doesn't seem so bad. Let me explain. I was standing in front of that door, and I knew I could beat that trap. Seen 'em before. So I was going through the process and something went wrong. Maybe the trapmaker was clever. Maybe the trap was old. Either
way, the trap went off and a horrifying wave of coldness erupted through me. It was like a million icy needles tearing into me and ripping apart. And this was no illusion. Not some 'feeling'. I WAS torn apart and killed dead as dead can be. And I thought, 'Now you've done it. You've killed the scourge of continents and monsters that can lay civilizations low and in the end, a doorknob bested you. At least you didn't die in a latrine.'
Then things changed. It was sudden but still gentle and there was a sensation of drawing, of welcoming, of warmth that had I had not felt for a long time. I felt like I was being held in my mother’s arms as a small child, cradled after a bad fall. A memory came to me like a flash: I was a young'un. Six years old and kind of scrawny but still the same Axel. Me and the other kids were daring each other and I was never one to back down from a challenge. Our Rover band had hooked up with some Human merchants, but they were seriously and completely off-limits. So the next thing I know, I'm scampering up this very tall human’s caravan, certain I could reach the top. Next thing I know, there's a slip, some wood splintering and some shouting. Mom Newhon
comes running to me. Checked my head. Kissed me on the cheek and I felt a splash of tears of relief, I guess. She never let me go and bandaged up, I thought at the time, a painfully skinned arm, and somehow a mother’s touch made the pain all go away. As soon as that was settled, though, I was treated to a sharp, nearly as painful smack on the rear. 'I told you not to climb things that are too big for you,' Ma told me. She seemed upset, and I heard the disappointment in her voice as much as the worry. And then I got a lighter smack, a gentler one. “Now go play.” As I ran off, I turned to look at Ma, one more time. Her face had gone blurry and it seemed to have developed an oddly greenish tinge. I blinked, trying to focus and feelings and impressions washed over me in a rush. The one that stands out is the warmth of the sun on my face in the caravan camp. As the feeling of Ma's kiss on my forehead faded, it all turned back into the dank cold of the black stone castle of the King Immortal, and you were there, looking over me. You may have lacked some of the motherliness, but I felt no less concern than I felt that day in the caravans so long ago. So, I had been dead. Maybe for only a second or two but dead is dead. I feel certain beyond doubt that I have been given a gift the Mother of Us All does not give wantonly: a second chance at life. I also feel certain of another thing: such a gift will unlikely come as easily again."
Axel pauses, tests his coffee and pulls the teabag from Morag's cup in a motion so smooth and quick that it's startling well after it happened. "That's still hot," he warns.
"So life's a rare gift. A second chance is rarer still. I don't think I fear death so much, now. I figure that in the end, I'll have to account for how I spent my rare gift. But as long as I keep fighting for what's right and fair and good, I'll be accepted back to a place of warmth and love."
Axel pauses again before moving into uncharted conversational territory. "This experience has turned my thoughts toward your overall and ultimate mission, too. When Tria metaphorically 'falls off the caravan' is that the end of everything or does she get bandaged and
kissed and shown some love before being sent back to play with a heightened appreciation for the gift that is life? Or if it does turn out to be the end, will Tria be welcomed with love, knowing that her life was well spent and that peace and comfort await? Who can say, but it's interesting to think you'll have a part in it all."
At that, Axel falls silent, paying attention to his cup.
Session Journal 20 Interlude conclusion
Morag blows on the tea before taking a sip. She purses her lips in thought for several moments, taking another sip and staring into the fire.
"I don't know if Tria will come back again, or if when she passes away that someone else will take her place. She may well pass away and take the world with her. That is one of the things I have yet to discover. I hope that her Mother will be waiting for her and welcome her with the same love Mother Newhon showed you years ago. I think she will," Morag adds thoughtfully.
\
"I still wonder why I was chosen, of all that lived, to be the Chosen of Death. My Mistress admitted she was slightly surprised and appreciated my dedication, but she's never been one for extended conversations. I guess she trusts me to do what she wants done. Even Rhiannon can't tell me anything on that point," Morag shrugs, sipping her tea. "I just hope I can do what Death wants. It would be a tragedy beyond imagining if Tria were to be Skaden's slave. It would be sad if our Mother died alone." Morag finishes the tea with a single swallow and hands the cup back to Axel.
"Good tea," Morag says with a smile. "I haven't had any that good since I was at the monastery. Sailors aren't known for their tea-drinking habits." She stares into the fire, idle thoughts ending with a half-smile as she recalls some other time.
"I'm not offended if you don't think of death," she says suddenly, staring earnestly at the shadowdancer. "Most people prefer not to. It's natural to avoid thinking about the end of our lives. Fear of it is normal. Most people think only of this life. They don't know what awaits them when they're done here. Some believe they know; they may even be right." Morag shrugs. "When I died a few days ago, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the afterlife that awaited me was peaceful and pastoral. Ezreth was waiting for me there." Morag's voice trails away as she wipes away a tear.
"Ezreth was my husband," she adds.
"I had the chance to stay there, but I chose to come back. I couldn't let Skaden win, I decided. More than a desire for vengeance, more than a need to know what I'd forgotten, I couldn't rest in paradise knowing that the Defier was about to claim an entire nation. So when that Chosen of Atanna called, I came back. And I know that one day, if I don't screw up, he'll be waiting there for me."
"You're right though about one thing. This life IS a gift, a second chance. I can't go back to being the woman I was years ago. She's dead, her life spent. But I don't have to discard all of who she was either. I can have a bit of her, and still be myself. It won't stop me from doing what I have to do one day, and in the meantime, I certainly have motivation to stay the course." Morag uncharacteristically giggles. "Just don't expect me to be sunshine and rainbows all the time. Kieren would probably run screaming over the hills." Morag rises and stretches.
"Thank you for answering my questions Axel. The tea was excellent. Wake me at midnight. I'm going to go ahead and take my nap. If you talk to Kieren, tell him I'm in the mood for griddle-cakes in the morning." Morag starts to walk away and then stops, turning around.
"One more thing," she says. "When you died back in the Tower, I called you back and you came. I'm happy you did. You're a friend, and I have very few of those. I want you to be around for a long time. If nothing else, you make things interesting. Sometimes painful, but interesting, and I could use some of that these days. I can't spend all my time worrying about the future when you're around. We may not HAVE a future." Morag teases. "So, that said, I'm going to get some rest. Believe it or not, I get tired of dank, dark, smelly, undead-infested catacombs too. Especially ones beneath major Skadenite cathedrals." Morag turns away and heads to her bedroll. Moments later she is asleep, and for a change, she doesn't have nightmares.
Session Journal 20 Interlude #2
Nightmares, Sympathy, and Farewells
“These robes are just awesome!” Dheza exclaimed as he pulled the Robes of the Heir of Andor'sek over his mithril armor.
“Let's hope the rest of the stuff we find is just as good then,” Axel commented as he casually walked around the room, examining the unmoving men lining the walls. Kieren eyed the doorway to the chamber warily, an arrow in hand. The ranger and the shadowdancer glanced knowingly at one another and then toward the final member of their group.
Morag also walked around the room casually, making a circuit opposite of Axel. She looked at several of the clones of the the former High Priest of Skaden and shuddered before finally moving to the center of the room. Heedless of the gore and blood she knelt down by the body of the fallen bishop of Skaden, Narra Do'Sheen, and took a good look at the dead woman's face.
Narra's hair was partially burned away from the spell that had killed her, but it was quite dark, nearly as dark as the Gatherer's own ebon tresses. Morag glanced up to look at the face of one Durran clone and then down at Narra again. The sharp cheekbones of the Sheen bloodline were muted in the fallen woman, as was the sharp chin. In truth, the woman's face was plain where Durran's was striking. Narra's face was also burned, but Morag could see traces of cosmetics that created dark hollows beneath the dead woman's eyes and paled her skin.
Morag reached into her pack and pulled out a small hand mirror. She looked at her reflection for several long moments before looking sharply down at Narra, a thought disturbing her peace of mind. Setting the mirror aside, she looked at Narra's body closely. The Sheen bishop was willowy of build, her frame thin and light.
“Did you draw Durran's eye too?” Morag murmured softly. “Did you suffer because you were like me, or because you were not me?”
“Morag?”
The Gatherer of Souls looked up to see Kieren standing over her, his expression guarded, a question unspoken on his lips. She'd never heard him approach.
“I'm fine, Kieren,” Morag replied quietly.
“You're talking to the corpse of a priestess of Skaden. Even for you, that's a bit odd. I'd have guessed you'd be laughing or burning her corpse or at least saying prayers by now.”
“I will,” Morag answered, ignoring the dark elf's attempt at humor. “Just leave me be for a little while. This isn't easy,” she added.
Kieren glanced at the mirror at her side. His gaze darted to the face of both women, one dead, the other twice-dead. His eyes widened for a moment but he nodded.
“All right. I guess being civilized to one's enemies isn't going to be easy, all things considered.” He nodded meaningfully toward the twenty unmoving bodies lining the walls but stepped away.
“No, it isn't. Thank you,” Morag added, but if he heard her he gave no sign.
Morag brushed the woman's hair away and straightened up the body as well as she could. Dheza and Axel had already stripped this corpse of anything of value. The glabrezu that had been Narra's guards had taken pieces of her flesh and gorged on them before falling to the blades of the adventuring quartet. Morag laid the woman down peacefully and knelt at her head, pouring a flask of oil over the body. With flint and steel Death's Mistress struck a spark and watched as the partially-burned corpse lit up in flame once more.
The three men turned toward the light, their attention drawn by the unexpected fire.
“Does she normally do this to her enemies?” Dheza leaned down and asked Axel quietly.
“No, this isn't normal. She's done it once in a while, but normally she just does the praying over the body and leaves them there for the scavengers,” Axel answered, his eyes on the fire and Morag's back.
“That's good. Remind me never to get her mad at me. I'd rather my corpse not end up crispy,” Dheza remarked.
Session Journal 20 Interlude 2 cont.
Morag gave no sign that she had heard their comments. Instead she raised her head, eyes closed. Light glinted off the Crown of the Everliving General, the fire causing it to flash and flicker. Morag's robes of shadows drank in light, creating a strange image of a woman's head with no body. She then began to sing.
To the other side
There's a light and a darkened road
There's a night and a fading hope
There was a dream that once was mine
But now it seems it has passed with time.
Sail away my little sister, sail away
To the other side
Sail away my little sister, sail away
Far into the night
Where at times it seems much better
Than this one called life
There's a voice inside my head
There's a hope, now long since dead
It's all I wonder, while I abide?
I hear you calling from the other side.
I hear you calling from the other side....
Sail away my little sister, sail away
To the other side
Sail away my little sister, sail away
Far into the night
Where at times it seems much better
Than this one called life
I hear you calling from the other side...
Sail away my little sister, sail away
To the other side
Sail away my little sister, sail away
Far into the night
Where at times it seems much better
Than this one called life
Author's note: Lyrics by Sirenia. Song title: The Other Side.
The three men watched as Morag finally rose minutes later and poured a flask of holy water over the ashes, dowsing them. She shook her head and sighed as she stared at the embers and bones.
“Poor lost soul,” she murmured. “May you be born again anew.”
“Have I mentioned lately that our Chosen companion creeps me out?” Dheza whispered to Axel.
“Well, yes, she does,” Axel admitted. “But she's proven pretty useful to have around when dealing with the occasional undead. Or serious injury,” Axel added thoughtfully, remembering how the Chosen of Death had literally pushed his entrails into his abdomen with one hand and then closed the gaping wound with a few murmured words earlier in the evening.
Morag began to pace the room once more, her eyes darting to different spots on the floor. She said nothing as she walked, the only noise she made the clicking of her heels as she moved. After a minute of uncomfortable silence, the men returned their attention to examining the room for valuables.
Death's Mistress finally stopped at the altar. She looked down at Durran's clone and then glanced at Dheza.
“Dheza, could you give me a hand with this?” Morag pointed at the body.
Dheza looked up from where he stood examining the staff that had lain at the side of that very same body, confused.
“You want me to help move that?” Dheza asked, pointing at the body.
“Yes, please,” Morag replied politely.
“I got it Dheza,” Kieren replied, slinging his bow over his shoulder and sliding his arrow in its quiver. He strode to the other end of the stone altar and grabbed the inert body by its legs as Morag grabbed the shoulders. The ranger thought he saw Morag smile gratefully for a moment before she nodded and together they heaved the unliving man to the floor.
“Thank you Kieren.”
Kieren nodded, this time seeing Morag's smile and then turning away, inexplicably embarrassed.
“Why did you want it moved?” Dheza asked, seeing Kieren resume his watch on the door.
Morag didn't reply immediately. Instead she poured a flask of holy water onto the altar and said a brief prayer. The water hissed and steamed before erupting into black and white flames. The fires burned for several seconds before fading away.
“I have another prayer to give,” Morag finally said.
Session Journal 20 Interlude 2 part 3
(try to keep it straight ;p)
Dheza glanced down at the body on the floor.
“For him?” Dheza looked around the room. “Are you going to do one for each of these guys? I mean, if that's your thing, then sure, but I don't know that we want to stay here that long. Besides,” Dheza added, “didn't you say something back at Tria's Grove when we watched him reincarnate as a fruit bat?”
“This prayer isn't for these masses of neverliving flesh,” Morag replied, her eyes intent on the altar's surface.
“Then who's it for?” Axel interjected.
“It's for me.”
“Wait,” Dheza interrupted. “What do you mean it's 'for you'?” The eldritch knight motioned with his hands to emphasize his words. “Are you planning on doing something stupid and just now telling us? Are you sick or something? Can you be a little more specific?”
The dark-haired woman sighed.
“I told you all not long after we met that I lost most of my memory eleven years ago,” Morag explained. “My oldest memories involve leaving Sheenosek with the help of an old Neen merchant. I wasn't in my proper state of mind at the time—”
“Are you ever?” Kieren joked.
Morag glared at him and continued.
“Well, since we've spent the past week or two in Sheenosek, I've learned a few things, all thanks to Krieg. I know what happened to my husband, I know when it happened, and I know who I was.”
“You were someone different?” Axel asked.
“Very different,” Morag clarified. “The last thing Krieg told me, the night before we came to the capital, was the most important. He gave me back my real name. I wasn't born Morag. I didn't come of age and just inherit my title. Think about it: Morag isn't even an Isenorian name, and it's fairly obvious that I'm Isenorian.”
The three men nodded warily.
The Gatherer of Souls sighed again.
“Since we came to the cathedral, the last few missing memories have been taunting me. Always lingering just on the edge of my memory like fading dreams. As we've delved deeper under the cathedral I knew what it was that I was missing. I had forgotten my own death. My first death,” she added. “The one I've known about but couldn't recall the details about. When my old life ended and this life began.” Morag held her arms out and motioned to her body with a bitter smile.
“When we opened the door to this room the last details flooded back. The smell of blood, the taste of it, the cold air, the very feelings of despair and sorrow that are part of the stone. All of it. I remembered it all. I wanted to run screaming from here. I admit it; I was afraid. But I didn't. I couldn't leave you down here with those fiends. You're my friends.” Morag ignored the looks of mock-astonishment and continued.
“I also realized something else. The woman who died down here wasn't me. Her body walks the world still, but she's dead and gone. That woman died, and the Gatherer of Souls was born. For all her suffering, it was that woman's suffering that led to my existence. It isn't the existence I might have chosen under other circumstances, but I chose it, and I will live this life until the gift is returned. I owe that woman thanks. I owe her so much for the nightmare she lived through. I bear her memories and I wear her flesh, but I am not her. She will always be a part of me, but I am more than she ever was. Far more.”
“No Chosen of Tria has ever walked these halls to speed the souls of the dead to their next lives. I prayed for my husband, but no one prayed for me. I have a chance to do that now, so I'm going to give myself that one small indulgence, eleven years overdue.” Morag put her hands on the altar and leaned forward. She flinched as her fingers felt the cold stone but once more closed her eyes and began to sing.
20/2/4
This is me for forever
One of the lost ones
The one without a name
Without an honest heart as compass
This is me for forever
One without a name
These lines the last endeavor
To find the missing lifeline
Oh how I wish
For soothing rain
All I wish to dream again
My loving heart
Lost in the dark
For hope I'd give my everything
I'm a flower withered between
The pages two and three
The once and forever bloom
Done with my seeds
Walk the dark path
Sleep with angels
Call the past for help
Touch me with your love
And reveal to me mine today
Oh how I wish
For soothing rain
All I wish to dream again
My loving heart
Lost in the dark
For hope I'd give my everything
Oh how I wish
For soothing rain
Oh how I wish to dream again
Once and for all
And all for once
Lost is my name, forevermore
Oh how I wish
For soothing rain
All I wish to dream again
My loving heart
Lost in the dark
For hope I'd give my everything
Oh how I wish
For soothing rain
Oh how I wish to dream again
Once and for all
And all for once
Lost is my name, forevermore
Author's notes: Lyrics are from the song Nemo by Nightwish
Morag finally pulled her eyes away from the altar, her eyes slowly opening. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she reached down into her bodice and pulled out the ring that hid there on a chain about her neck. She clenched it tightly in her fist for a long moment before finally taking a deep breath. She tucked the ring away and wiped the tears away before turning back to the men. All three were looking away, embarrassed.
“I'm done,” she said simply.
“You know,” Axel replied, “you don't have a bad singing voice. Did you ever consider getting lessons from a bard?”
To their surprise Morag erupted in laughter. They stood there as she continued to laugh, bent nearly double, all staring at her uncomfortably.
“Great Axel. Now she's unhinged,” Dheza said sarcastically.
“She's been that way as long as I've known her. But I admit, this is a bit odd, even for her,” Axel confided. “If she starts casting any spells, I'm out of here.”
Morag finally regained her composure and looked at Axel with a fond expression on her face.
“To answer your question Axel, yes, a long time ago, in another life, I did consider getting lessons. But I fell in love and got married, so I never got around to it. Maybe the next time I stop in a Rover camp I can work on that.”
“Well, if you're done, what do you want to do about all these?” Axel pointed at the bodies lining the wall.
Morag's smile changed from one of amusement to something darker.
“Say what you like about Morag, she might not be sane, but she definitely brings something different to the party,” Dheza murmured as the woman drew her knife and walked toward the first body along the wall.
Awesome. Have you shared that with the group?
And yeah, yeah, I'll write up the treasure you all found...
Awesome. Have you shared that with the group?
And yeah, yeah, I'll write up the treasure you all found...
1) Nope, haven't sent it out yet. Will be shortly.
2) No, not a reminder to you, subtly or otherwise. You don't need me to remind you to make sure you have the treasure for next time. Just writing it as I think it would go.