Zad
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The Heart of Nightfang Spire - Chapter 1
Gnarly flying octopi-things that kicked our asses...
The Heart of Nightfang Spire - Chapter 1
OOC Notes:
Experience breaks down as follows:
Dravot: 2255
Jozan: 2592
Kayleigh: 2592
Rackhir 1917
Scorch: 1917
Valanthe: 2592
Loot List:
What we got and who has it at the moment:
3 gems at 50gp ea (general)
potion of neutralize poison (general)
potion of invisibility (general)
ring of blue stone (transmutation magic, Rackhir)
10 +1 arrows (Rackhir)
Cloak of elvenkind (Kayleigh)
23pp
10gp
450gp
4234sp
This Week’s Adventure:
Given the generosity and nature of Lord Gelban’s reward, there seemed only one thing to do – go shopping. I had been thinking that while my bow has been a wonderful asset, perhaps it should be replaced with something more suited to the horrors we’ve been encountering. So with Aran’gel in tow, we set off towards the High Market.
I have never shopped for anything quite of this quality before, and while I was familiar with the Greyhawk market, I was unsure what to expect when asking for something this nature. I knew I wanted to go back to my preferred composite bow – it was much easier to shoot from horseback and I wanted the stronger pull of my old bow. I also found the flaming properties of my current bow to be quite effective and was hoping to find something similar. We stopped at two shops and looked at what they had, but I didn’t find anything that suited me. A third shop was suggested by Aran’gel and we went inside.
It was more of a house than a shop, but there were a number of fine elven bows on racks on the wall. An aging elf came out from another room and greeted us, mentioning it was pleasant to see Aran’gel again but didn’t seem to know him by name.
I told him what I was seeking in a new bow. He paused and looked me over – I was asking for a fairly expensive item and he was certainly considering if I could afford such a thing. I’ve made many changes in the past months, and my wardrobe was of course among them, but I was certainly not dressed as a high Lady. After a moment of reflection, he walked over to a rack on the wall and removed a bow and brought it to me.
This was not a bow for my purchase however – this was clearly just a test. I gave the bow a thorough inspection and made several remarks. He nodded approvingly. He was trying to determine the type of person who he was selling to, and I in turn was examining a sample of his work. I handed the bow back to him, having established that he is a skilled craftsman and that I was no average bowman, and we then began in earnest. I debated removing my gloves and allowing him to see the mark of the Champion but somehow that seemed a cheap tactic and unappealing.
He then brought several bows of fine quality before me. Some were longbows and some composite but all magical. I looked over each in turn, ending with a fine bow. I asked for an explanation of its construction and was pleased with the details. The bow was wrapped in bark as a final covering from a birch sapling and it had the look and feel of silk and a warm golden-white sheen. Over this was arcane scrollwork written in gold ink. The string was a finely spun silk. Through all my detailed questions the gentleman answered patiently but was uncertain if I would be able to afford this most expensive of the bows he showed me. Aran’gel was simply standing there, amused by the whole thing.
He really can be quite delightful when he’s smiling. More on that later though.
I also inspected the dweomer of the bow and nodded. It had the level of enchantment I sought and the blazing property that worked so well on Gulthias creations. I willed the bow ablaze and was pleased, and let the flames die.
He asked if I would like to shoot it, waving a hand towards the back of the house. Through two doorways, a cabinet and an open window there was a small strip of land out back, and a target hung at the far end, some 50 yards away. Aran’gel was watching me more closely – another subtle test perhaps? So be it.
Rather than leave the house, as this seemed to be the focus of the test, I simply took an arrow from my quiver, and drew. The draw on the bow was heavy and felt good – my current bow was too easy to pull and the arrows too slow as a result. I slowly released the tension and commented to Aran’gel casually about the pull, then quickly looked up and snapped the shot at the target. The arrow landed with a satisfying thump and was easily a hand’s width into the target.
The elf just smiled sightly.
Aran’gel, who preferred the longbow to a composite, asked if I would be comfortable firing it quickly. He was hiding a smile as he asked the leading question. I shrugged and said “Good question.” And promptly dropped three shots into the target next to the first one. He walked over so he could see the target out the window, and said “Hm. Within a gold piece,” as if it were merely adequate. I smiled back at him and said “Well there is a slight breeze you know.”
The elf smiled slightly more, and nodded. Seems I had just earned some credibility at least.
Now that I had a bow I was pleased with, there was the matter of the deal itself. I produced my current bow from my quiver and let him examine it, saying I would like to trade this as part of the deal. He gave it a cursory examination and nodded and we began talking of price. I have little skill for this, but fortunately the man was not a cutthroat. We arrived at a price of 14,400 gold for the bow and while I might have done better, I was pleased at having precisely what I was seeking. I gave him the letters of mark from Lord Gelban, which he accepted without question as well as the necessary cash and some of the sleep arrows I’d been carrying around, and we left with my new purchase. Of course we spent the next several blocks debating the merits of longbows and composite bows. It seems to come down to a style thing – I find the size and power more manageable whereas he finds the longbow better in the types of fighting he does.
I was a bit stunned at having spent quite so much money in a single item, but my life has changed greatly, and this just seemed one more drop in the bucket. Since I had some coin left to me, we stopped in the low market for a magical backpack. Not a very useful item in battle, but the utility was unquestionable.
After that business was done, we wasted the rest of the day walking, talking and (to a large degree) drinking. There was a common room Aran’gel knew with a rather unusual concoction. It was . . . rather effective.
We had about a week and a half before I had to return to Shand, and Aran’gel would depart for Highfolk. Scorch was scribing spells and everyone else was making their own preparations, so we had some time to pass. We spent the days on furthering my training – I could tell Aran’gel was at least trying to get me to the point of being somewhat self-teaching knowing we would only be able to work together intermittently. He regretted that he would have to leave me so soon, but was hoping that Lord Gelban could arrange something to help us in the future with my training.
As for the evenings, we spent them talking, or laughing or (once again) drinking. One night it was gambling and we managed to leave a few gold richer than we entered. Another it was a concert. I was enjoying the chance to get to know him more, and he seemed to be returning more to what I imagine he was before Ravenna struck.
I was of course curious as to what he would do regarding his arm. Dravot had seen to it that his arm could be fully returned to normal if Aran’gel wished it. Aran’gel however was hesitant. While the trauma of it all seems to have passed behind him, the metal arm was a scab that he liked to pick at. He also enjoyed the discomfort it gave others on some level. I’ve been encouraging him to release it and have his hand restored but he was not listening much. At least he wasn’t, until I mentioned something about the attributes of living flesh as opposed to cold metal, and then I think he gave the matter thought on a rather different level. Some times men must be led in spite of themselves…
We spoke on any number of subjects. One of them was of course the Champions. I had been considering a visit home some time soon, and I was quite distressed about how to handle it all. I’m afraid I must have sounded like a babbling idiot. But I was nervous – I had no idea how my parents would react or if I would be welcomed. I had thought that a Champion was always a Champion – I didn’t know they “sparked” as he liked to say. What would happen when I went home? Was there someone I had to speak to? What would my parents think? Should I not mention Aran’gel’s name?
I blithered like this quite a bit.
He was generally patient and understanding. "Champions are not born, except in the fires of combat, any more than a hero is born. As it was for me, so it was for you, and so it has been since the Awakening. Learned from the bow of the First Archer during the War of the Storm Lords, in peril with the dark spider-lovers. Some say it was a boon from the Moonbow herself, in our time of greatest need. Some say that dwarves can cook well. Who can say?"
He also told me that I would not need to tell “someone”. One thing he made clear about Celene...the Queen knows from whence her Champions come and whither they go. Once someone has 'sparked', the Queen and her court mages have ways of tracking the comings and goings of the Champions within the borders of Celene, or at least near enough to court. When I return, they shall know it. The Queen may even wish to see me.
At one point I just looked at him and asked “So when were you planning to tell me?”
He sighed, and rolled his eyes to the heavens. He leaned against the nearby wall and crossed his arms before he answered. "I suppose I would have mentioned it, sooner or later. After I thought you wouldn't react...oh, like you are now, I'll say.”
I just glared at him, trying to look more serious than I felt at his jest.
“I left court to live my life as Aran'gel, not the second Prince Brightflame. I am still an elf, just as you are. If I could make it so, I'd gladly lose my title...but wishing never makes a thing. You might claim I ran, and perhaps you'd be right...but I did not leave for cowardice, and when my people called, I was there."
I answered him "I'd never claim you ran. You are not such a man. I am not your judge and you must go where your path takes you. And I can see why you would not trumpet your title loudly. "
I couldn’t resist and started grinning a girlish grin. “But imagine me telling my sister of what an interesting man I had met and what I might have said when she told me your birthright?”
“I do not keep my heritage secret, Kayleigh. Neither do I point it out...to anyone. I wish to be known for who I am, not who birthed me. My mother and brother cast long shadows...and sometimes one needs to step into the light on their own. I would have told you, but after you were more confident in your skills. Just the knowledge I was a champion was enough to make you awed...that I was a prince, as well? Perhaps I did you a disservice, but there was no mischief in it, please believe that. There are no ranks among our kind. All champions are equal to another, in our eyes. Some have more skill or experience, but we are all of us of a kind. We answer no summons but the Queen, and even that begrudgingly.”
I nooded at that. “Fair enough. You were certainly told by Lord Gelban of my birth and rank, but perhaps didn't realize that I am used to rank, but there as you say there was no mischief in that. I have always placed more stock in the man than the title. But given my father, I surely understand what you mean about stepping out of the shadow they cast.”
What caught my ear more was his statement about the Queen. I had not realized the Champions were so autonomous. I have much to learn.
“As to your family? They will accept it or they won't. I am certainly no expert on how to deal with that. But if they love you, as I know they must, then they will adapt, one way or the other. I know of your father, at least...and while he may have trouble with what you've become, I doubt very much he will not be proud.”
Again I was smiling madly. “He has never had any trouble being proud. Enough of all this. You've convinced me - I am what I am, and others shall do what they will. And I will do as I have done this last year - follow my own path.”
As the days went by something else became clear. At first Aran’gel was conflicted – he saw me as a student that needed instruction but was also found me attractive and that was difficult for him. However as he has seen me come to a better understanding of my abilities as a Champion, and knows now that I know of his heritage and am not awed by it. He was realizing that there would be no evil in a relationship with me and was much more at ease with my casual flirtations. Over the days we definitely became more than just a student and teacher but the change is slow and subtle, as with most things where elves are involved.
Lord Gelban was showing an unusual level of urgency about our mission. We had determined to wait twelve days before departing. This was largely to give Scorch time to acquire and scribe new spells. After a week, Lord Gelban was becoming more ill at ease but simply verified we were still planning to leave shortly. During this time we each spent time largely on our own, or in selected company as the case may be. Jozan commented he saw a great deal of traffic in and out of the city, largely refugees from Geoff. He also heard the Duke was planning an attack on the giants.
On the morning of the twelfth day, the portal was activated for our return to Shand. While they were finishing with the portal, he and I said our goodbyes. He gave me a phantom moonflower and I was touched. Where he got it from I couldn’t possibly guess as they do not grow anywhere save elven forests and at night, they sparkle like a lightning bug. He wished me luck, and I leaned up and kissed him for the first time, which he returned warmly. And as it ended, I could hear Scorch shouting outside for me to hurry before the portal collapsed. I pinned the blossom to my blouse, and with a quiet smile I left.
We stepped through the portal and looked around. The area had been fortified in the time since we left, with many of Lord Gelban’s guards about to aid in the defense. There were also a great number of animals and large predators in the woods, surely recruited by the druids to defend the Great Map.
We ask if there have been any attacks or attempts to re-take the map. There have been no attacks, but they do have word of troop movements by Iuz. One of the Greater Boneheart, Venom, has a mass of 25,000 orcs and ogres that are moving into the Rift Canyon. The rebels in the Rift are apparently causing trouble but that information is unreliable. Venom is known to be a powerful wizard but little more is known of him. The troops moved in seven days ago and have not been seen since.
We are given directions to reach Nightfang Spire, and we head out at a brisk pace. Obviously the roads are certain death for us so we keep well clear of them. After several hours, we catch sight of a huge dust cloud. It’s a force of 30,000 gnolls heading southward. The advance scouts spotted me but did not seem to notice the rest of the group and were unconcerned by a single elf. [OOC Note: I was rolling only two things tonight – really really low, or a 20. My hide check rolled low.] We retreated deeper into the woods. They are carrying a standard but not of Iuz – it was Chavram’s banner. We simply stared at each other silently in shock. We retreated even deeper into the woods to try to put some space between us and them. Apparently a few of them saw me, but it was not worth more than a few pot shots from their crossbows.
Towards evening we are moving through the deep forest. Suddenly several arrows land in the trees near us – one near each of us. It was clearly a warning. We stopped immediately but did not draw any weapons. I removed the arrow casually and examined it – it was a fine make and of a vaguely elvish style but still somewhat crude. We all stay still as Valanthe goes to scout the area.
The telepathic contact of the dragon scales showed it’s worth as Valanthe was able to keep us updated as she moved out. She quickly found the group of wild elves that were carefully watching us. She was so close as to be in their midst but we cautioned her that they would be a very jumpy lot and suddenly appearing would not be good for her or us. She make a less threatening appearance and spoke with them. (Interestingly their leader was also a champion – she had the mark and the glow of the arrow on her bow. I didn’t realize it crossed all the elven communities but it is logical once I considered it.) We had not realized we were trespassing on their territory. Valanthe explained we were merely passing through and meant no harm, and we would exit as soon as possible.
I briefly debated attempting a conversation with my kindred spirit but since the situation was under control there was no sense risking more. We were true to our word and moved quickly through their lands. We set no fire and caused no disturbance. They were always near watching us, sometimes getting as close as a stones-throw when I was alone on guard, but they would not speak to me.
After three days later when we emerged from the Faustwood into a scraggly rocky land. There were no sign of the grand roads of the Shield Lands here – just lots of low scrub and rocks. There were several signs of troop movement in the area but none that were recent. We periodically see a burned out farm but all of them have been abandoned for years.
Another day later, we begin to see the southern edge of the mountain range. We also see a small city, or what remains of it. The gates were smashed from the inside and the walls didn’t fare much better. The town was laid to waste – surely there were giants involved. From the number of skeletons it was clear nobody remained to bury the dead. This is most likely the ruins of Aetherstone, not far from the border with the Theocracy of the Pale. The town probably was home to 30,000 people. It was smashed at least 20 years ago though. On the walls at odd places are the symbol of Drawmij – most unusual. Near the symbols were always some fresh plantings (within the last couple months). The plants have a faint magical aura. We decide not to risk further investigation on something so unrelated to our mission.
As we moved further into the low hills, the wildlife began disappearing until there was nothing left once we reached the peaks. Dravot faintly made out the trail to the old north road that was in our instructions. [OOC Note: we have nobody in the party with any kind of wilderness skills at all so it’s easy to see how we missed the warning signs the wild elves left us, or how we are lucky to find a trail even if it does have a neon sign over it.] Nightfang Spire was supposed to be near a series of Menhir rings. Except for some occasional weak weeds, there was a complete lack of life. We followed the road and the walls gradually rose higher and higher, until they were some two thousand feet above us as the road sloped into the crevasse. Eventually we saw a stony fang thrusting up from the canyon floor. Wider at the base, it tapered gradually ending at the top in jagged stone splinters three hundred feet above us. The high canyon walls cloaked the spire in shadow but we could see the carved sides covered with porticos, faces, ledges, gargoyles, and other baleful textures. At the base, a small stone structure abutted the spire. It was a small dry mortared building that was old, but not as old as the spire itself. All around the base the ground was covered with some kind of vine – odd given the lack of vegetation to this point. And there was of course the unmistakable smell of evil. Valanthe moved closer and scouted around the tower – she could make out some shapes in the building – possibly bodies. As she scouted, a storm was rolling in.
We elected to make camp and enter on the morning. We took shelter against the cliff wall from the rain and kept a vigilant watch, but the night brought nothing but rain and thunder.
In the morning we prepare and move closer. There is clearly something amiss with the vines around the base. There is a faint tinkling sound in the air near the vines. Someone realizes it is blightvine, and once close the music will lure you to sleep until you die. This presented quite an obstacle and we were at a loss on how to clear the vines. Rackhir finally used two of the explosive arrows (made with the material from the Brotherhood pirate ship) to clear a path. (I wager he was tired of waiting to use the arrows in that way.)
Just after the vines were cleared, there was another crack of lightning, but this time much closer. A bolt descended into the crevasse and struck Scorch, burning him badly. We found ourselves once again under some type of (we assumed) druidic attack. We quickly crowded into the small stone building as the only shelter from the lightning.
There was hardly enough room for us all with the corpses – 14 in all. Most were vermin but there were several humans and one wild elf. The oldest body was some six months dead. The wild elf was oddly well equipped carrying a quiver with ten magical arrows, a bow (broken) and a cloak, also magical. (I examined the cloak and it was a cloak of elvenkind, making me glad I had not purchased one on my shopping trip. I fastened it on my shoulders for the time being.) The elf also had some coin, and a note that said “Flee fool, lest the cuckoo slay you”.
[OOC: 10 +1 arrows, 23p 10g, cloak of elvenkind. The note has something to do with the Standing Stone module, which we made fun of for a bit before resuming.]
Valanthe went up the tower to attempt to find our attacker. On the tower sides are carved chutes, that may lead inside. However the window structures we saw from the ground were just shadowy carvings. At the top, the spire was open and the rim lined with jagged shards of stone. Inside Valanthe could make out a bizzare mound of flesh with writhing tentacles – it was casting spells and preparing, presumably for us.
[OOC Note: As we sat down to begin the night’s game, the module was sitting on the table. I asked to see it, and looked at the cover, stating that I wanted to see what we’d be fighting. You see in the Sunless Citadel and in the Forge of Fury, the covers both depicted a significant combat in the module. As a group of players, we’re no dummies, and we figured that HoNfS would follow this pattern. And on the cover are the heros flying around, and a large tentacled beast fighting them. So we were right – there it was. Nobody expected to have to fight it so SOON tho.]
Valanthe observed it and could tell its senses were very keen – Rackhir borrowed the new cloak and stuck his head outside to have it nearly blasted by lightning, and the small builiding shook around us. How Valanthe remained undetected was something of a miracle. [OOC and an amazingly high hide and move silently] We knew it could not take another blast like that, and we scattered. Upon seeing us move, the beast rose up from the tower to destroy us.
[OOC: It’s a mooncalf. Let’s just accept that we know the name and move on. Round 1]
I had no target and was forced to wait until the mooncalf crested the tower and came towards the ground at us. I fired but forgot the pull of my new bow and missed wildly. Rackhir fired but his arrow just bounced off – magic would be required for this beast. Jozan hardened himself against the elements while Scorch turned himself into an umber hulk and began tunneling below the ground. Valanthe waited for an opportunity as the mooncalf descended.
[OOC: Round 2]
Seeing this great monster nearly falling at us, with it’s mass of tentacles and long reach, I tended to my own defense and put up a shield. Rackhir fired and this time, using magical arrows, landed some of his shafts. The rest of the group could do little but wait as the beast plummeted 300 feet towards us. During its descent, Valanthe jumped on it and struck, and then jumped back. It flicked a tentacle as she did and nicked her.
[OOC: Round 3]
I moved back and shot a single arrow. It landed well enough but the magical protections the beast had cast snuffed the flaming arrow. Rackhir fired and hit with two arrows. Scorch was still tunneling below the ground. Dravot invoked a harrier and a wispy bird of light came into being and flew at the mooncalf. The calf dropped another ten feet and launched its tentacles at Rackhir which lashed at him and picked him up and continued to squeeze. Jozan swung at the beast but could not strike a solid blow.
In our minds we could hear a rasping sound saying “You shall not enter the tower….the spire is held by Gulthias and he has told me to keep you ouuuuut….you shall sleep with the vines…”
Valanthe, undisturbed, jumped back on the top of the beast and drove her venomous dagger into its back.
[OOC: Round 4]
Far enough away to avoid attack but still close enough for controlled shooting, I open fire, landing two more arrows. Rackhir burst free of the tentacles and fell to the ground, and as he did, Jozan attacked one of the appendages. Dravot invoked a Recitation. Scorch burst out of the ground and launched a volley of magic missiles at the mooncalf. Meanwhile on its back, Valanthe chose carefully and landed a well placed blade, and a flood of ichor was released as she cut it above the eye. The mooncalf was screeching “No…it cannot happen…no…” It flung its tentacles at the umber hulk Scorch and grabbed him with such force as to nearly break him in half. Scorch screamed and fell unconscious in an instant. [OOC: Scorch was mostly healed from the lightning bolt but the damage was so massive from the mooncalf he was at –8 hp. We thought he was actually dead, but we checked Polymorph self and there is a small healing component which was enough to keep him above –10. We were already worried seeing how badly it hurt Rackhir, and we were not quite concerned. We tend to keep a running damage number and this beast had already taken a huge amount of damage and was not slowing down. We were not sure we could kill it in time to save Scorch.]
[OOC: Round 5]
Finally feeling the new bow, I land three solid shots on the beast. Rackhir also hit several shots. Jozan waited beneath the beast for Scorch’s near-lifeless body to fall if the beast discards him. Dravot moved closer and healed Scorch enough to bring him conscious. The mooncalf discarded Scorch and he fell into Jozan’s waiting arms. The tentacles on the beast flailed around looking for Valanthe and wrap around her. However Valanthe immediately wriggled free and leapt to the ground.
[OOC: Round 6 and we are worried. We haven’t been this worried since Nightscale was kicking our butts.]
Rackhir and I both let arrows fly again and again landed solidly. Rackhir’s shots struck some vital organs by the amount of foul blood that gushed out [OOC: 2 crits out of 3 shots]. The beast lurched in the air and crashed into the ground, landing on Dravot and Jozan. Fortunately the battered Scorch managed to dive free. As it’s form bled and deflated, it hissed at us once more “Though I have failed to ward the door, Gulthias knows you have come and he makes his revenge ready. Let the world weep at his return…”
The top of the spire is hollowed out and filled with the stench of rotting meat. There is a half eaten corpse of a black dragon laying atop a pile of coins. In the center is a rough hole into the inner spire. On examining the pile of coins we saw some movement within the pile. A long white hand emerged and tossed a scroll to the side of the pile and went back into the pile. Dravot sensed three wights within the pile upon being lifted up by a draconic Scorch. He invoked Pelor’s wrath, combined with his own special hatred, and destroyed them utterly.
In the pile we found three gems (50gp ea), a potion of invisibility, a potion of neutralize poison, and a ring of blue stone with some type of transmutation magic which is in Rackhir’s hands. Also we found a plaque that had writing in draconic: “The Vow: With my brothers and sisters I abide the centuries until Gulthias awakens the relic at the core and we rise together into unlife.” The coins came to 450gp and 4234 sp.
From Dravot’s Journal:
Much has happened since our journey from Brindinford. We had a brief stop in Greyhawk before continuing on to the lands near Tenh. With Gelban's help, I commissioned an agent to locate new housing suitable to someone of my recently elevated station. In anticipation of this, I spent much time packing my belongings from my apartment in the Temple; afterward I cleaned my gear for our trip with Arang'el, and spent a lot of time in prayer and meditation.
My newfound status still takes some getting used to. Being the 3rd of 4 sons, I grew up with the notion that I wouldn't ever be liege lord of Brindinford. This was fine, as my interests in following Pelor would have conflicted somewhat with this anyway. Now my father is dead (or should be, instead of being in his currently horrid state), my eldest living brother will abdicate, and my other brother is in the same state as my father. I will inherit the estate, the title and all responsibility therein. In preparation, I have started brushing up on law, so that I can discharge my new found duties in an appropriate fashion.
Thora informs me that her search on my behalf goes well. Xavener has expressed an interest that we look to Xel Astra or the Northern Kingdoms. I have informed her that this would be fine, but that I would not stand for a marriage to any child of Drax.
The recent trip has given me more time to think about other matters. The spot where I have been marked is still upon my arm. I have absent mindedly rubbed at it for quite some time now, as if I could remove it like it were dirt or a stain. It is now red, raw and inflamed, which only draws my attention to it that much more. On our trip to Brindinford, the idea popped into my head that I could remove the mark (which I have researched as a variant of a Mark of Apostasy) by removing my arm.
I threw away that notion as extreme and desperate, but I keep coming back to it. I've tried everything I've thought of to remove it, spells, positive energy, prayer. All to no avail. It would seem that more physical action is needed. While we were in town, I decided that it needed to be done, and began to make arrangements: when we returned to Greyhawk, I would remove my arm, and thus remove this horrible stain upon my soul.
I'm not sure when exactly I changed my mind. Looking back, I think it was what I saw of the aftermath of the battle that killed Arang'el's men. I found an arm, still clutching a bow, severed from the body of the man that previously bore it. I looked around, but couldn't find the person to whom it belonged. This disturbed me greatly. The next morning, as I prayed for guidance and spells, I reflected on how Pelor was a god of healing, and that removing my own arm seemedwrong somehow.
Yet, I was at a loss. I feel a need for action. This has been with me for far too long. It grows in strength, slowly. It is most likely a link to Chavram, and those others similarly afflicted have become his puppets. I will NOT stand for this. Instead, I have come up with a new plan.
Upon returning, I made some discrete inquiries. Those within the Temple were quite unhappy with my decision, and some tried to talk me out of it. I located a blacksmith who follows Pelor, and who was willing to help me. He made a brand for me, with the holy symbol of Pelor. We blessed and anointed his shop, his forge, his anvil, as well as his hammers and other tools. I provided him with holy water daily for quenching the brand while he worked. I blessed the iron that he used for it.
Meanwhile, I secured myself in the Temple. Jasmine is in the process of setting up the new household and I used the opportunity to stay out of the way, and do this. For three days, I prayed and meditated. The only food I would eat was that provided for by Pelor and my spells. The rest of my time I used to heal and counsel those in need.
On the morning of the 3rd day, I would use the brand to cover over the Mark. The night before this was to happen, I received a message from Bellamy. He had head of my plans, and begged me not to do it. Against my better judgment, I have acquiesced for the time being. I made it clear that I had not given up the idea entirely, but will delay it while more research is done.
I have followed his advice and have spent the rest of my time in Greyhawk promoting the good works of Pelor. Every night since then, I have gone into the poorer areas of town, using my abilities to heal injury and disease. I have also moved through the graveyards, searching for undead, but have found none. I thought I saw Valanthe one night, and Rackhir on another, but didn't seek them out. I doubt that they saw me. Bellamy was right in one respectthis was a good idea. I feel better about myself and my predicament, and I'm genuinely glad that I was able to help others. In a way it is action, and I felt the need to do something, and I have. What I don't know is if it is enough.
I am bringing the brand with me on the upcoming trip. It is a reminder to me for why I joined the church, and I am sure that I will continue to contemplate my future actions. I have debated the idea of Communing with Pelor for advice. I will probably do that when we return.
Meanwhile, Jasmine has done a wonderful job on the house, setting up a staff, and organizing things. She will be the household Majordomo until I return, and can find someone suitable to take over it. I have made arrangements to have the house Hallowed, and protected with Negative Energy Protection, but as usual, the mage's guild is taking their own sweet time in approving the permit for the spell. I will take action to resolve this upon my return.
Also, the Church has seen fit to allow me to take possession of a Greater Holy Symbol, for a suitable donation. I am looking forward to my next encounter with the Undead with much glee...
Gnarly flying octopi-things that kicked our asses...
The Heart of Nightfang Spire - Chapter 1
OOC Notes:
Experience breaks down as follows:
Dravot: 2255
Jozan: 2592
Kayleigh: 2592
Rackhir 1917
Scorch: 1917
Valanthe: 2592
Loot List:
What we got and who has it at the moment:
3 gems at 50gp ea (general)
potion of neutralize poison (general)
potion of invisibility (general)
ring of blue stone (transmutation magic, Rackhir)
10 +1 arrows (Rackhir)
Cloak of elvenkind (Kayleigh)
23pp
10gp
450gp
4234sp
This Week’s Adventure:
Given the generosity and nature of Lord Gelban’s reward, there seemed only one thing to do – go shopping. I had been thinking that while my bow has been a wonderful asset, perhaps it should be replaced with something more suited to the horrors we’ve been encountering. So with Aran’gel in tow, we set off towards the High Market.
I have never shopped for anything quite of this quality before, and while I was familiar with the Greyhawk market, I was unsure what to expect when asking for something this nature. I knew I wanted to go back to my preferred composite bow – it was much easier to shoot from horseback and I wanted the stronger pull of my old bow. I also found the flaming properties of my current bow to be quite effective and was hoping to find something similar. We stopped at two shops and looked at what they had, but I didn’t find anything that suited me. A third shop was suggested by Aran’gel and we went inside.
It was more of a house than a shop, but there were a number of fine elven bows on racks on the wall. An aging elf came out from another room and greeted us, mentioning it was pleasant to see Aran’gel again but didn’t seem to know him by name.
I told him what I was seeking in a new bow. He paused and looked me over – I was asking for a fairly expensive item and he was certainly considering if I could afford such a thing. I’ve made many changes in the past months, and my wardrobe was of course among them, but I was certainly not dressed as a high Lady. After a moment of reflection, he walked over to a rack on the wall and removed a bow and brought it to me.
This was not a bow for my purchase however – this was clearly just a test. I gave the bow a thorough inspection and made several remarks. He nodded approvingly. He was trying to determine the type of person who he was selling to, and I in turn was examining a sample of his work. I handed the bow back to him, having established that he is a skilled craftsman and that I was no average bowman, and we then began in earnest. I debated removing my gloves and allowing him to see the mark of the Champion but somehow that seemed a cheap tactic and unappealing.
He then brought several bows of fine quality before me. Some were longbows and some composite but all magical. I looked over each in turn, ending with a fine bow. I asked for an explanation of its construction and was pleased with the details. The bow was wrapped in bark as a final covering from a birch sapling and it had the look and feel of silk and a warm golden-white sheen. Over this was arcane scrollwork written in gold ink. The string was a finely spun silk. Through all my detailed questions the gentleman answered patiently but was uncertain if I would be able to afford this most expensive of the bows he showed me. Aran’gel was simply standing there, amused by the whole thing.
He really can be quite delightful when he’s smiling. More on that later though.
I also inspected the dweomer of the bow and nodded. It had the level of enchantment I sought and the blazing property that worked so well on Gulthias creations. I willed the bow ablaze and was pleased, and let the flames die.
He asked if I would like to shoot it, waving a hand towards the back of the house. Through two doorways, a cabinet and an open window there was a small strip of land out back, and a target hung at the far end, some 50 yards away. Aran’gel was watching me more closely – another subtle test perhaps? So be it.
Rather than leave the house, as this seemed to be the focus of the test, I simply took an arrow from my quiver, and drew. The draw on the bow was heavy and felt good – my current bow was too easy to pull and the arrows too slow as a result. I slowly released the tension and commented to Aran’gel casually about the pull, then quickly looked up and snapped the shot at the target. The arrow landed with a satisfying thump and was easily a hand’s width into the target.
The elf just smiled sightly.
Aran’gel, who preferred the longbow to a composite, asked if I would be comfortable firing it quickly. He was hiding a smile as he asked the leading question. I shrugged and said “Good question.” And promptly dropped three shots into the target next to the first one. He walked over so he could see the target out the window, and said “Hm. Within a gold piece,” as if it were merely adequate. I smiled back at him and said “Well there is a slight breeze you know.”
The elf smiled slightly more, and nodded. Seems I had just earned some credibility at least.
Now that I had a bow I was pleased with, there was the matter of the deal itself. I produced my current bow from my quiver and let him examine it, saying I would like to trade this as part of the deal. He gave it a cursory examination and nodded and we began talking of price. I have little skill for this, but fortunately the man was not a cutthroat. We arrived at a price of 14,400 gold for the bow and while I might have done better, I was pleased at having precisely what I was seeking. I gave him the letters of mark from Lord Gelban, which he accepted without question as well as the necessary cash and some of the sleep arrows I’d been carrying around, and we left with my new purchase. Of course we spent the next several blocks debating the merits of longbows and composite bows. It seems to come down to a style thing – I find the size and power more manageable whereas he finds the longbow better in the types of fighting he does.
I was a bit stunned at having spent quite so much money in a single item, but my life has changed greatly, and this just seemed one more drop in the bucket. Since I had some coin left to me, we stopped in the low market for a magical backpack. Not a very useful item in battle, but the utility was unquestionable.
After that business was done, we wasted the rest of the day walking, talking and (to a large degree) drinking. There was a common room Aran’gel knew with a rather unusual concoction. It was . . . rather effective.
We had about a week and a half before I had to return to Shand, and Aran’gel would depart for Highfolk. Scorch was scribing spells and everyone else was making their own preparations, so we had some time to pass. We spent the days on furthering my training – I could tell Aran’gel was at least trying to get me to the point of being somewhat self-teaching knowing we would only be able to work together intermittently. He regretted that he would have to leave me so soon, but was hoping that Lord Gelban could arrange something to help us in the future with my training.
As for the evenings, we spent them talking, or laughing or (once again) drinking. One night it was gambling and we managed to leave a few gold richer than we entered. Another it was a concert. I was enjoying the chance to get to know him more, and he seemed to be returning more to what I imagine he was before Ravenna struck.
I was of course curious as to what he would do regarding his arm. Dravot had seen to it that his arm could be fully returned to normal if Aran’gel wished it. Aran’gel however was hesitant. While the trauma of it all seems to have passed behind him, the metal arm was a scab that he liked to pick at. He also enjoyed the discomfort it gave others on some level. I’ve been encouraging him to release it and have his hand restored but he was not listening much. At least he wasn’t, until I mentioned something about the attributes of living flesh as opposed to cold metal, and then I think he gave the matter thought on a rather different level. Some times men must be led in spite of themselves…
We spoke on any number of subjects. One of them was of course the Champions. I had been considering a visit home some time soon, and I was quite distressed about how to handle it all. I’m afraid I must have sounded like a babbling idiot. But I was nervous – I had no idea how my parents would react or if I would be welcomed. I had thought that a Champion was always a Champion – I didn’t know they “sparked” as he liked to say. What would happen when I went home? Was there someone I had to speak to? What would my parents think? Should I not mention Aran’gel’s name?
I blithered like this quite a bit.
He was generally patient and understanding. "Champions are not born, except in the fires of combat, any more than a hero is born. As it was for me, so it was for you, and so it has been since the Awakening. Learned from the bow of the First Archer during the War of the Storm Lords, in peril with the dark spider-lovers. Some say it was a boon from the Moonbow herself, in our time of greatest need. Some say that dwarves can cook well. Who can say?"
He also told me that I would not need to tell “someone”. One thing he made clear about Celene...the Queen knows from whence her Champions come and whither they go. Once someone has 'sparked', the Queen and her court mages have ways of tracking the comings and goings of the Champions within the borders of Celene, or at least near enough to court. When I return, they shall know it. The Queen may even wish to see me.
At one point I just looked at him and asked “So when were you planning to tell me?”
He sighed, and rolled his eyes to the heavens. He leaned against the nearby wall and crossed his arms before he answered. "I suppose I would have mentioned it, sooner or later. After I thought you wouldn't react...oh, like you are now, I'll say.”
I just glared at him, trying to look more serious than I felt at his jest.
“I left court to live my life as Aran'gel, not the second Prince Brightflame. I am still an elf, just as you are. If I could make it so, I'd gladly lose my title...but wishing never makes a thing. You might claim I ran, and perhaps you'd be right...but I did not leave for cowardice, and when my people called, I was there."
I answered him "I'd never claim you ran. You are not such a man. I am not your judge and you must go where your path takes you. And I can see why you would not trumpet your title loudly. "
I couldn’t resist and started grinning a girlish grin. “But imagine me telling my sister of what an interesting man I had met and what I might have said when she told me your birthright?”
“I do not keep my heritage secret, Kayleigh. Neither do I point it out...to anyone. I wish to be known for who I am, not who birthed me. My mother and brother cast long shadows...and sometimes one needs to step into the light on their own. I would have told you, but after you were more confident in your skills. Just the knowledge I was a champion was enough to make you awed...that I was a prince, as well? Perhaps I did you a disservice, but there was no mischief in it, please believe that. There are no ranks among our kind. All champions are equal to another, in our eyes. Some have more skill or experience, but we are all of us of a kind. We answer no summons but the Queen, and even that begrudgingly.”
I nooded at that. “Fair enough. You were certainly told by Lord Gelban of my birth and rank, but perhaps didn't realize that I am used to rank, but there as you say there was no mischief in that. I have always placed more stock in the man than the title. But given my father, I surely understand what you mean about stepping out of the shadow they cast.”
What caught my ear more was his statement about the Queen. I had not realized the Champions were so autonomous. I have much to learn.
“As to your family? They will accept it or they won't. I am certainly no expert on how to deal with that. But if they love you, as I know they must, then they will adapt, one way or the other. I know of your father, at least...and while he may have trouble with what you've become, I doubt very much he will not be proud.”
Again I was smiling madly. “He has never had any trouble being proud. Enough of all this. You've convinced me - I am what I am, and others shall do what they will. And I will do as I have done this last year - follow my own path.”
As the days went by something else became clear. At first Aran’gel was conflicted – he saw me as a student that needed instruction but was also found me attractive and that was difficult for him. However as he has seen me come to a better understanding of my abilities as a Champion, and knows now that I know of his heritage and am not awed by it. He was realizing that there would be no evil in a relationship with me and was much more at ease with my casual flirtations. Over the days we definitely became more than just a student and teacher but the change is slow and subtle, as with most things where elves are involved.
Lord Gelban was showing an unusual level of urgency about our mission. We had determined to wait twelve days before departing. This was largely to give Scorch time to acquire and scribe new spells. After a week, Lord Gelban was becoming more ill at ease but simply verified we were still planning to leave shortly. During this time we each spent time largely on our own, or in selected company as the case may be. Jozan commented he saw a great deal of traffic in and out of the city, largely refugees from Geoff. He also heard the Duke was planning an attack on the giants.
On the morning of the twelfth day, the portal was activated for our return to Shand. While they were finishing with the portal, he and I said our goodbyes. He gave me a phantom moonflower and I was touched. Where he got it from I couldn’t possibly guess as they do not grow anywhere save elven forests and at night, they sparkle like a lightning bug. He wished me luck, and I leaned up and kissed him for the first time, which he returned warmly. And as it ended, I could hear Scorch shouting outside for me to hurry before the portal collapsed. I pinned the blossom to my blouse, and with a quiet smile I left.
We stepped through the portal and looked around. The area had been fortified in the time since we left, with many of Lord Gelban’s guards about to aid in the defense. There were also a great number of animals and large predators in the woods, surely recruited by the druids to defend the Great Map.
We ask if there have been any attacks or attempts to re-take the map. There have been no attacks, but they do have word of troop movements by Iuz. One of the Greater Boneheart, Venom, has a mass of 25,000 orcs and ogres that are moving into the Rift Canyon. The rebels in the Rift are apparently causing trouble but that information is unreliable. Venom is known to be a powerful wizard but little more is known of him. The troops moved in seven days ago and have not been seen since.
We are given directions to reach Nightfang Spire, and we head out at a brisk pace. Obviously the roads are certain death for us so we keep well clear of them. After several hours, we catch sight of a huge dust cloud. It’s a force of 30,000 gnolls heading southward. The advance scouts spotted me but did not seem to notice the rest of the group and were unconcerned by a single elf. [OOC Note: I was rolling only two things tonight – really really low, or a 20. My hide check rolled low.] We retreated deeper into the woods. They are carrying a standard but not of Iuz – it was Chavram’s banner. We simply stared at each other silently in shock. We retreated even deeper into the woods to try to put some space between us and them. Apparently a few of them saw me, but it was not worth more than a few pot shots from their crossbows.
Towards evening we are moving through the deep forest. Suddenly several arrows land in the trees near us – one near each of us. It was clearly a warning. We stopped immediately but did not draw any weapons. I removed the arrow casually and examined it – it was a fine make and of a vaguely elvish style but still somewhat crude. We all stay still as Valanthe goes to scout the area.
The telepathic contact of the dragon scales showed it’s worth as Valanthe was able to keep us updated as she moved out. She quickly found the group of wild elves that were carefully watching us. She was so close as to be in their midst but we cautioned her that they would be a very jumpy lot and suddenly appearing would not be good for her or us. She make a less threatening appearance and spoke with them. (Interestingly their leader was also a champion – she had the mark and the glow of the arrow on her bow. I didn’t realize it crossed all the elven communities but it is logical once I considered it.) We had not realized we were trespassing on their territory. Valanthe explained we were merely passing through and meant no harm, and we would exit as soon as possible.
I briefly debated attempting a conversation with my kindred spirit but since the situation was under control there was no sense risking more. We were true to our word and moved quickly through their lands. We set no fire and caused no disturbance. They were always near watching us, sometimes getting as close as a stones-throw when I was alone on guard, but they would not speak to me.
After three days later when we emerged from the Faustwood into a scraggly rocky land. There were no sign of the grand roads of the Shield Lands here – just lots of low scrub and rocks. There were several signs of troop movement in the area but none that were recent. We periodically see a burned out farm but all of them have been abandoned for years.
Another day later, we begin to see the southern edge of the mountain range. We also see a small city, or what remains of it. The gates were smashed from the inside and the walls didn’t fare much better. The town was laid to waste – surely there were giants involved. From the number of skeletons it was clear nobody remained to bury the dead. This is most likely the ruins of Aetherstone, not far from the border with the Theocracy of the Pale. The town probably was home to 30,000 people. It was smashed at least 20 years ago though. On the walls at odd places are the symbol of Drawmij – most unusual. Near the symbols were always some fresh plantings (within the last couple months). The plants have a faint magical aura. We decide not to risk further investigation on something so unrelated to our mission.
As we moved further into the low hills, the wildlife began disappearing until there was nothing left once we reached the peaks. Dravot faintly made out the trail to the old north road that was in our instructions. [OOC Note: we have nobody in the party with any kind of wilderness skills at all so it’s easy to see how we missed the warning signs the wild elves left us, or how we are lucky to find a trail even if it does have a neon sign over it.] Nightfang Spire was supposed to be near a series of Menhir rings. Except for some occasional weak weeds, there was a complete lack of life. We followed the road and the walls gradually rose higher and higher, until they were some two thousand feet above us as the road sloped into the crevasse. Eventually we saw a stony fang thrusting up from the canyon floor. Wider at the base, it tapered gradually ending at the top in jagged stone splinters three hundred feet above us. The high canyon walls cloaked the spire in shadow but we could see the carved sides covered with porticos, faces, ledges, gargoyles, and other baleful textures. At the base, a small stone structure abutted the spire. It was a small dry mortared building that was old, but not as old as the spire itself. All around the base the ground was covered with some kind of vine – odd given the lack of vegetation to this point. And there was of course the unmistakable smell of evil. Valanthe moved closer and scouted around the tower – she could make out some shapes in the building – possibly bodies. As she scouted, a storm was rolling in.
We elected to make camp and enter on the morning. We took shelter against the cliff wall from the rain and kept a vigilant watch, but the night brought nothing but rain and thunder.
In the morning we prepare and move closer. There is clearly something amiss with the vines around the base. There is a faint tinkling sound in the air near the vines. Someone realizes it is blightvine, and once close the music will lure you to sleep until you die. This presented quite an obstacle and we were at a loss on how to clear the vines. Rackhir finally used two of the explosive arrows (made with the material from the Brotherhood pirate ship) to clear a path. (I wager he was tired of waiting to use the arrows in that way.)
Just after the vines were cleared, there was another crack of lightning, but this time much closer. A bolt descended into the crevasse and struck Scorch, burning him badly. We found ourselves once again under some type of (we assumed) druidic attack. We quickly crowded into the small stone building as the only shelter from the lightning.
There was hardly enough room for us all with the corpses – 14 in all. Most were vermin but there were several humans and one wild elf. The oldest body was some six months dead. The wild elf was oddly well equipped carrying a quiver with ten magical arrows, a bow (broken) and a cloak, also magical. (I examined the cloak and it was a cloak of elvenkind, making me glad I had not purchased one on my shopping trip. I fastened it on my shoulders for the time being.) The elf also had some coin, and a note that said “Flee fool, lest the cuckoo slay you”.
[OOC: 10 +1 arrows, 23p 10g, cloak of elvenkind. The note has something to do with the Standing Stone module, which we made fun of for a bit before resuming.]
Valanthe went up the tower to attempt to find our attacker. On the tower sides are carved chutes, that may lead inside. However the window structures we saw from the ground were just shadowy carvings. At the top, the spire was open and the rim lined with jagged shards of stone. Inside Valanthe could make out a bizzare mound of flesh with writhing tentacles – it was casting spells and preparing, presumably for us.
[OOC Note: As we sat down to begin the night’s game, the module was sitting on the table. I asked to see it, and looked at the cover, stating that I wanted to see what we’d be fighting. You see in the Sunless Citadel and in the Forge of Fury, the covers both depicted a significant combat in the module. As a group of players, we’re no dummies, and we figured that HoNfS would follow this pattern. And on the cover are the heros flying around, and a large tentacled beast fighting them. So we were right – there it was. Nobody expected to have to fight it so SOON tho.]
Valanthe observed it and could tell its senses were very keen – Rackhir borrowed the new cloak and stuck his head outside to have it nearly blasted by lightning, and the small builiding shook around us. How Valanthe remained undetected was something of a miracle. [OOC and an amazingly high hide and move silently] We knew it could not take another blast like that, and we scattered. Upon seeing us move, the beast rose up from the tower to destroy us.
[OOC: It’s a mooncalf. Let’s just accept that we know the name and move on. Round 1]
I had no target and was forced to wait until the mooncalf crested the tower and came towards the ground at us. I fired but forgot the pull of my new bow and missed wildly. Rackhir fired but his arrow just bounced off – magic would be required for this beast. Jozan hardened himself against the elements while Scorch turned himself into an umber hulk and began tunneling below the ground. Valanthe waited for an opportunity as the mooncalf descended.
[OOC: Round 2]
Seeing this great monster nearly falling at us, with it’s mass of tentacles and long reach, I tended to my own defense and put up a shield. Rackhir fired and this time, using magical arrows, landed some of his shafts. The rest of the group could do little but wait as the beast plummeted 300 feet towards us. During its descent, Valanthe jumped on it and struck, and then jumped back. It flicked a tentacle as she did and nicked her.
[OOC: Round 3]
I moved back and shot a single arrow. It landed well enough but the magical protections the beast had cast snuffed the flaming arrow. Rackhir fired and hit with two arrows. Scorch was still tunneling below the ground. Dravot invoked a harrier and a wispy bird of light came into being and flew at the mooncalf. The calf dropped another ten feet and launched its tentacles at Rackhir which lashed at him and picked him up and continued to squeeze. Jozan swung at the beast but could not strike a solid blow.
In our minds we could hear a rasping sound saying “You shall not enter the tower….the spire is held by Gulthias and he has told me to keep you ouuuuut….you shall sleep with the vines…”
Valanthe, undisturbed, jumped back on the top of the beast and drove her venomous dagger into its back.
[OOC: Round 4]
Far enough away to avoid attack but still close enough for controlled shooting, I open fire, landing two more arrows. Rackhir burst free of the tentacles and fell to the ground, and as he did, Jozan attacked one of the appendages. Dravot invoked a Recitation. Scorch burst out of the ground and launched a volley of magic missiles at the mooncalf. Meanwhile on its back, Valanthe chose carefully and landed a well placed blade, and a flood of ichor was released as she cut it above the eye. The mooncalf was screeching “No…it cannot happen…no…” It flung its tentacles at the umber hulk Scorch and grabbed him with such force as to nearly break him in half. Scorch screamed and fell unconscious in an instant. [OOC: Scorch was mostly healed from the lightning bolt but the damage was so massive from the mooncalf he was at –8 hp. We thought he was actually dead, but we checked Polymorph self and there is a small healing component which was enough to keep him above –10. We were already worried seeing how badly it hurt Rackhir, and we were not quite concerned. We tend to keep a running damage number and this beast had already taken a huge amount of damage and was not slowing down. We were not sure we could kill it in time to save Scorch.]
[OOC: Round 5]
Finally feeling the new bow, I land three solid shots on the beast. Rackhir also hit several shots. Jozan waited beneath the beast for Scorch’s near-lifeless body to fall if the beast discards him. Dravot moved closer and healed Scorch enough to bring him conscious. The mooncalf discarded Scorch and he fell into Jozan’s waiting arms. The tentacles on the beast flailed around looking for Valanthe and wrap around her. However Valanthe immediately wriggled free and leapt to the ground.
[OOC: Round 6 and we are worried. We haven’t been this worried since Nightscale was kicking our butts.]
Rackhir and I both let arrows fly again and again landed solidly. Rackhir’s shots struck some vital organs by the amount of foul blood that gushed out [OOC: 2 crits out of 3 shots]. The beast lurched in the air and crashed into the ground, landing on Dravot and Jozan. Fortunately the battered Scorch managed to dive free. As it’s form bled and deflated, it hissed at us once more “Though I have failed to ward the door, Gulthias knows you have come and he makes his revenge ready. Let the world weep at his return…”
The top of the spire is hollowed out and filled with the stench of rotting meat. There is a half eaten corpse of a black dragon laying atop a pile of coins. In the center is a rough hole into the inner spire. On examining the pile of coins we saw some movement within the pile. A long white hand emerged and tossed a scroll to the side of the pile and went back into the pile. Dravot sensed three wights within the pile upon being lifted up by a draconic Scorch. He invoked Pelor’s wrath, combined with his own special hatred, and destroyed them utterly.
In the pile we found three gems (50gp ea), a potion of invisibility, a potion of neutralize poison, and a ring of blue stone with some type of transmutation magic which is in Rackhir’s hands. Also we found a plaque that had writing in draconic: “The Vow: With my brothers and sisters I abide the centuries until Gulthias awakens the relic at the core and we rise together into unlife.” The coins came to 450gp and 4234 sp.
From Dravot’s Journal:
Much has happened since our journey from Brindinford. We had a brief stop in Greyhawk before continuing on to the lands near Tenh. With Gelban's help, I commissioned an agent to locate new housing suitable to someone of my recently elevated station. In anticipation of this, I spent much time packing my belongings from my apartment in the Temple; afterward I cleaned my gear for our trip with Arang'el, and spent a lot of time in prayer and meditation.
My newfound status still takes some getting used to. Being the 3rd of 4 sons, I grew up with the notion that I wouldn't ever be liege lord of Brindinford. This was fine, as my interests in following Pelor would have conflicted somewhat with this anyway. Now my father is dead (or should be, instead of being in his currently horrid state), my eldest living brother will abdicate, and my other brother is in the same state as my father. I will inherit the estate, the title and all responsibility therein. In preparation, I have started brushing up on law, so that I can discharge my new found duties in an appropriate fashion.
Thora informs me that her search on my behalf goes well. Xavener has expressed an interest that we look to Xel Astra or the Northern Kingdoms. I have informed her that this would be fine, but that I would not stand for a marriage to any child of Drax.
The recent trip has given me more time to think about other matters. The spot where I have been marked is still upon my arm. I have absent mindedly rubbed at it for quite some time now, as if I could remove it like it were dirt or a stain. It is now red, raw and inflamed, which only draws my attention to it that much more. On our trip to Brindinford, the idea popped into my head that I could remove the mark (which I have researched as a variant of a Mark of Apostasy) by removing my arm.
I threw away that notion as extreme and desperate, but I keep coming back to it. I've tried everything I've thought of to remove it, spells, positive energy, prayer. All to no avail. It would seem that more physical action is needed. While we were in town, I decided that it needed to be done, and began to make arrangements: when we returned to Greyhawk, I would remove my arm, and thus remove this horrible stain upon my soul.
I'm not sure when exactly I changed my mind. Looking back, I think it was what I saw of the aftermath of the battle that killed Arang'el's men. I found an arm, still clutching a bow, severed from the body of the man that previously bore it. I looked around, but couldn't find the person to whom it belonged. This disturbed me greatly. The next morning, as I prayed for guidance and spells, I reflected on how Pelor was a god of healing, and that removing my own arm seemedwrong somehow.
Yet, I was at a loss. I feel a need for action. This has been with me for far too long. It grows in strength, slowly. It is most likely a link to Chavram, and those others similarly afflicted have become his puppets. I will NOT stand for this. Instead, I have come up with a new plan.
Upon returning, I made some discrete inquiries. Those within the Temple were quite unhappy with my decision, and some tried to talk me out of it. I located a blacksmith who follows Pelor, and who was willing to help me. He made a brand for me, with the holy symbol of Pelor. We blessed and anointed his shop, his forge, his anvil, as well as his hammers and other tools. I provided him with holy water daily for quenching the brand while he worked. I blessed the iron that he used for it.
Meanwhile, I secured myself in the Temple. Jasmine is in the process of setting up the new household and I used the opportunity to stay out of the way, and do this. For three days, I prayed and meditated. The only food I would eat was that provided for by Pelor and my spells. The rest of my time I used to heal and counsel those in need.
On the morning of the 3rd day, I would use the brand to cover over the Mark. The night before this was to happen, I received a message from Bellamy. He had head of my plans, and begged me not to do it. Against my better judgment, I have acquiesced for the time being. I made it clear that I had not given up the idea entirely, but will delay it while more research is done.
I have followed his advice and have spent the rest of my time in Greyhawk promoting the good works of Pelor. Every night since then, I have gone into the poorer areas of town, using my abilities to heal injury and disease. I have also moved through the graveyards, searching for undead, but have found none. I thought I saw Valanthe one night, and Rackhir on another, but didn't seek them out. I doubt that they saw me. Bellamy was right in one respectthis was a good idea. I feel better about myself and my predicament, and I'm genuinely glad that I was able to help others. In a way it is action, and I felt the need to do something, and I have. What I don't know is if it is enough.
I am bringing the brand with me on the upcoming trip. It is a reminder to me for why I joined the church, and I am sure that I will continue to contemplate my future actions. I have debated the idea of Communing with Pelor for advice. I will probably do that when we return.
Meanwhile, Jasmine has done a wonderful job on the house, setting up a staff, and organizing things. She will be the household Majordomo until I return, and can find someone suitable to take over it. I have made arrangements to have the house Hallowed, and protected with Negative Energy Protection, but as usual, the mage's guild is taking their own sweet time in approving the permit for the spell. I will take action to resolve this upon my return.
Also, the Church has seen fit to allow me to take possession of a Greater Holy Symbol, for a suitable donation. I am looking forward to my next encounter with the Undead with much glee...
