Pathfinder 1E JollyDoc's Jade Regent

JollyDoc

Explorer
The Return Of The Scions

5 Calistril, 4715

Before following Kelda's lead to whoever or whatever the "ten-handed one" was, the companions decided to explore the rest of the dungeon level first. They back-tracked to the kitchen, and from there took the northern door, which led them to a small, low-ceilinged cavern, filled with a tangle of stalactites and stalagmites. Boris's sharp eyes found a hidden exit on the far side, which gave onto a winding passage that eventually led to another cavern, partially water-filled, with an opening leading outside to the bay.

Returning once more to the kitchen, the group opened another door on the western side. The door was stuck and water-swollen, but a strong nudge from Haroldo sent it slamming open. Beyond, a foul-smelling chamber dripped with moisture that ran down the walls in rivulets amid thick tangles of nasty-looking fungus. Three washing bins in the walls were completely clogged with heaps of even more repulsive molds and mushrooms, some of which had grown to prodigious size, including two large mounds of green mold sprouting dozens of purple-capped mushrooms in the rooms center. As the group prepared to enter, Piotr abruptly stopped them.
"Tread carefully," he muttered. "Those are phycomids. They are carnivorous fungi. Their stalks secrete a caustic acid. Stand back"
He wove his magic, and a column of black motes streamed down on the first mound. The two phycomids began to twitch and writhe, but before they could attack, the group jumped into action. Lucian and Shalelu opened fire with their bows, while Koman, Kelda, Haroldo and Yannus swarmed into the room and slashed the fungi to pieces within a matter of seconds.

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The laundry room turned out to be a dead-end, so the companions moved towards the only remaining exit from the kitchen. It opened onto a large mess hall, where long benches in various states of disrepair and several battered and filthy wooden tables stood between stone pillars. The air reeked of reptiles, wafting in nauseous waves of the half-dozen troglodytes that stood about the room. They were tense, and wary, as if they'd been waiting for the trespassers, but Boris was in motion before the first of them could move. He darted past and behind the nearest trog, and buried one of his swords in the brute's scaly belly. With a grunt, the trog folded double and collapsed, bleeding to the floor.

Shalelu knelt by the door and picked her targets, while Lucian stood above her, following his mentor's lead. In the room, one of the trogs moved behind Boris, and clubbed the goblin behind his ear with its cudgel, while another rushed to meet Mazael as the big war priest muscled his way in. Kelda rushed to his side, hurling Ulfen epithets as her blade flashed around her in a blur, and Koman moved among the trogs, striking with uncanny precision. One by one, the troglodytes fell to the heroes, though their stench lingered on.

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Beyond the mess hall, the group stumbled upon a abandoned armory, mostly empty but still with some salvageable arms and armor. A short hall led from there to what looked to be some sort of arena. The middle of the chamber sagged in a bowl-like depression, leaving a narrow ring of level ground around the perimeter. Remnants of a low wooden railing marked the edge of the depression, but most of it had collapsed. A large chair sat in the center of the chamber next to a table heaped with doubtful-looking cuts of rancid meat. Seated upon this make-shift throne was a particularly large troglodyte, with a wicked-looking iron morningstar laid across his legs. Arrayed protectively in front of him, were four female trogs who hissed menacingly as the companions entered the room.

The troglodyte chief grinned evilly as he rose slowly to his feet, and directed his harem to attack. His smile turned quickly to shock and pain as Yannus held forth his holy symbol, and a burst of holy radiance filled the room. The chief and two of the females shrieked and clawed at their eyes, blinded from the brilliant blast, and their skin boiled and blistered from the heat. In an instant, Kelda leaped across the room, her eyes flashing with murder. She slashed her sword downward, opening the chieftain from throat to groin. Coughing and gurgling, the big trog collapsed back onto his throne. Boris took advantage of the chaos to slip his sword blades through the ribs of the nearest female, silencing her screams in an instant. The lethal goblin then whirled away and drove his sword into the throat of one of the blinded trogs, putting her down as well. Haroldo, Yannus and Kelda finished made short work of the remaining two.

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Brinewall Keep lay empty...except for whatever horror still awaited them deep in the bowels of the dungeon. The creature that apparently held the key to the vault the concealed the secret of Ameiko's heritage. Kelda led the way through twisting passages, until at last they came to an intricate iron screen that blocked further progress into a large chamber beyond. A wooden door painted with the image of a tall, beautiful blue-skinned woman seated on a throne stood in the middle of the screen. It was Pharasma, the goddess of the dead. Past the screen, the room stretched dozens of feet to the east, supported by stone pillars, and with deep funerary alcoves on either side. The far end of the chamber seemed to have partially collapsed into a large cavern in which faintly glowing motes of light swirled and danced in the air.

Cautiously, the companions opened the door and entered the crypt. They had taken no more than a few steps, when a ghostly image of the same woman painted on the door, suddenly appeared out of thin air, floating at the far end of the chamber.
"Be at peace," the goddess said. "You are in no danger here. Lay down your weapons and come to me. I shall grant each of you a boon."
Mazael started forward, sheathing his sword as he went.
"What are you doing?" Yannus hissed at him.
"Pharasma is calling to us," the war priest shrugged, looking over his shoulder.
Koman put away his sword as well and began to follow.
"Can't you see it's an illusion?" Yannus snapped as he grabbed his brother's arm
"Pretty," Boris said as he palmed both of his daggers into his sleeves and started after the others.
Yannus cursed and went after the others, though he gripped his glaive firmly in his hands. Haroldo and Piotr came along, though Luician hung back at a gesture from Shalelu, and Kelda showed no sign of going anywhere near the floating image of the goddess.

At the far end of the crypt, the floor simply ended, and a vast cavern opened up in the darkness beyond. The floor descended in two twenty-foot drops into a large, eerie grotto. The walls dripped with moisture and bore strange and disturbing cave paintings of towering four-winged humanoid shapes. Tiny motes of glowing light continued to drift and bob in the air, giving the place an almost nauseating feeling, as if the cavern were viewed through a dreamlike haze. As the companions gathered at the edge of the drop off, the image of Pharasma abruptly vanished, and a creature out of a nightmare rose slowly into view, it's leathery wings beating the air. It had a slimy, mollusk-like body, complete with ten tentacles, two of which ended in savage claws, and a monstrous face. As it reached a height level with the ledge upon which the heroes stood, it spoke, it's voice like bones cracking, its words filthy and unintelligible, and a darkness as black as night spread from out from it, enveloping them all.

Most of the companions groped about blindly, though Boris could still see in the darkness, as could Mazael, thanks to his celestial heritage. So it was that only the two of them saw the creature unleash its next assault. It spat its savage words again, and a greasy cloud of cloying, sickening coldness washed over them. The cried out in pain as the unholy blight seemed to siphon away a bit of their souls, and Yannus and Piotr doubled over, becoming physically ill. Boris knelt down and pulled his bow, taking careful aim. He loosed, and his arrow flew true, but when it struck the abomination, it simply bounced off its thick shell. Then Shalelu was beside him, cocking her head as she listened in the darkness, seeking her target. Before she could act, however, the fiendish decapus drew a slender wand from its tentacles and sent a scorching ray of fire at her.

"I have an idea!" Piotr shouted.
He fished around in his pack until he found what he was looking for: the strange weapon that Kikonu had wielded. He began to whirl the ball and chain section around his head, creating a constant buzzing sound. A moment later, an enormous wasp simply appeared above his head.
'Slay my enemy,' the sorcerer mentally commanded the creature and, it's compound eyes more than adapted for darkness, it flew towards the abomination, it wings humming angrily. It reached the decapus and jabbed its stinger through its shell and into its flesh. The creature bellowed in pain and fury, and lashed out at the wasp with tooth, claw and tentacle. Shalelu's ears honed in on the sounds of the conflict and, ignoring the sting of her burns, she bent her bow and let fly, smiling slightly to herself as she head the arrow strike home.

Haroldo also had an idea, though he didn't feel the need to brag about it like the pompous sorcerer. He felt his way towards the edge of the drop off, and began to lower himself over the side. In the darkness, however, he misjudged his footing and slipped, plummeting the twenty feet to the first ledge below. Cursing, he scrambled to his feet, rage filling him. His anger fueled the innate magic that rested just below the surface and, calling upon it, his body began to shift, growing rapidly to twice his normal his size. He ran towards the far wall and began to climb, his hands and feet sticking to the surface like a spider.

The battle between the decapus and the wasp continued to rage, and with its next barrage of tentacles and claws, the abomination destroyed the giant insect, sending it back to the plane from which it had been summoned. Still, it gave Shalelu time to draw another bead, and this time she loosed first one of the flaming arrows she'd taken from Zaiobe, and then followed with a special arrow she'd been saving...one specially designed for demon-spawn. When the two shafts struck the decapus, it shrieked in agony, clawing and biting at the arrows as they seared its flesh. It brandished its wand again, and another blazing fire bolt struck Shalelu, sending her scrambling for cover.

Down below, as Haroldo continue to scale the wall behind the decapus, it finally took notice of him, and sent a scorching ray his way as well. The giant blood rager took the blast full-on, grimaced in pain, and kept climbing. He reached the creature's level and, while still gripping the wall with his feet and one hand, drew a longsword from the scabbard at his side. The decapus screamed at him, and beat at him with its razor claws, while sinking its fangs into his shoulder. At this point, Haroldo was fully engulfed in the darkness, and fighting blind, though he could tell where the attacks were coming from. Crying out in rage and desperation, he swung his blade with all his might, and felt it bite deeply into the flesh of the fiendish abomination. He heard its screams suddenly cut short, then heard it fall heavily to the ground below. Feeling his strength ebbing, he scrambled rapidly back down to the floor of the grotto, and then proceeded to collapse into unconsciousness from fatigue and blood loss.

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In the aftermath of the battle, Lucian quickly rushed to Haroldo's side and proceeded to heal the warrior's wounds, while the others climbed down the ledges to ensure their opponent was well and truly dead. Secreted within the stalagmites of the grotto floor, they found a small trove of treasures and valuables that the creature had been hoarding. Among the items, Koman's eyes instantly fell upon a familiar looking item...a compass with a small hollow, just large enough to hold a tiny stone or gem.
"It's a wayfinder," he breathed. "The Pathfinders use them. I saw them do amazing things when I studied with them."
He reverently tucked the box into his belt.

Also among the treasure was a stone statuette depicting a a bird-headed, four-winged humanoid with its right arm extended. Piotr saw it first, and felt strangely drawn to it. He reached down and picked it up, and immediately felt an invigorating sense of confidence come over him. At the same time, however, he felt oddly sluggish and weighted down. Something was wrong, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it...

The last item of interest, was a darkwood and silver disc decorated with an intricate etching of Brinewall under the midnight moon. It was the second key to the vault.

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Before breaching the vault, the exhausted and wounded heroes decided to return to the cemetery and rest. Spivey was thrilled to see them, and to hear of their defeat of the evil within Brinewall. She gladly tended their wounds while she chatted away excitedly. As the day wore on, and they recuperated, the sound of approaching hoofbeats interrupted their reverie. Turning towards the cemetery gates, they saw Sandru galloping in on horseback.

"I'm glad to find you here," he said as he dismounted. "Ameiko spoke again less than an hour ago. She said, 'Grandfather waits in the dark, but he knows not who he was.' Does that mean anything to you?"
"We found the second key to the vault," Yannus replied. "Ameiko's grandfather, Rokuro, said in his letter that he would die defending whatever this family heirloom is. Perhaps some part of him still waits there."

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The following morning, the companions returned to Brinewall keep for the last time. They made their way back down to the vault, and placed both discs into their respective slots. Immediately, the iron bars of the portcullis slowly slid down into the floor. The walls of the room beyond were smooth stone, spattered with ancient bloodstains and deep, violent gouges. Deep drifts of dust lay on the floor, while immense stone doors hung open on the far side, revealing empty vaults beyond. Suddenly, the dust swirled into the air, coalescing into an ominous shadowy form that took on the ghostly image of an old but handsome Tian man. The spirit adopted a defensive pose, his katana held before him menacingly.

"Rokuro Kaijitsu!" Yannus called out, stepping forward boldly. "We have come here with your granddaughter, Ameiko. We have come to help her reclaim your family's honor."
The wraith's eyes bulged, and he froze, motionless. He lowered his sword, and then spoke, his voice low and mournful.
"I...know...this...naaaaaammmmmeeeeee...!"
A moment later, he raised his arms and cried out in anguish, then turned and faced the companions, tears of dust running down his incorporeal cheeks.
"Take the Seal away from here," he said. "Take it to my child. It is no longer safe...and I am no longer worth of guarding it..."
He pointed towards a spot on one blank wall, then, with another agonized cry, he flew apart into dust once more.

It didn't take long for Boris to find the hidden door that Rokuro had indicated. The chamber it opened onto appeared to be only half-excavated, one portion of it remaining a rough cavern wall. Three identical darkwood chests bound with bronze sat against the base of that wall. The three chests were locked, but Boris had no trouble unlocking the first two. Inside these were several items of arms, armor and magical trinkets. As the companions gazed upon them, each felt drawn to a specific item. The drew them forth, and instantly knew that each item had been created specifically for them. The heroes instinctively knew as well that each item contained a unique guardian spirit known as a kami. This spirit imparted to each of them the knowledge that, if they were willing to make an appropriate sacrifice, the kami could make their items even more powerful over time.

As Boris approached the final chest, it simply unlatched and opened, as if it had been waiting. The only item inside was an ornate box decorated with draconic designs, containing three compartments. Only one of those compartments was occupied. It contained a stone statuette of a dragon. As the companions gazed upon this strange totem, their vision began to cloud, and all of them collapsed to the floor. In an instant, their unconscious minds were filled with visions. They saw an army of terrible fiends, with burning skin, glaring eyes, and sharp tusks, wearing strange armor and wielding exotic weapons, emerge in a storm from a vast forest, and then descend upon a nation populated by Tian people.
This vision was swiftly followed by another: a young man dressed in royal robes stood over a simple well, a friend at his side. Suddenly, the friend grew nearly three times in size and was sheathed in a frightening suit of jade armor. The jade warrior drew a sword and struck down his royal friend, then held the bloody sword aloft in triumph.
A third vision followed, this time of a young Tian man handing a beautiful sword to a richly dressed Ulfen man in exchange for a bag of gold.
Finally, the vision faded, and the companions saw their friend Ameiko waking from her deep sleep, but she was dressed in the finery of an empress. She rose from sleep, not in a humble Varisian caravan, but from a resting spot within the arms of a jade throne.

The visions passed in the span of a few heartbeats, and when they had, the heroes awoke once more. The visions had left indelible knowledge in their minds: they knew that the land they saw invaded by fiends was called Minkai; they knew that the man they saw murdered by the jade warrior was Emperor Shigure of Minkai; they knew that Ameiko Kaijitsu's true family name was Amatatsu, one of the five royal families of Minkai; they recognized the young Tian man with the sword as Ameiko's grandfather, Rokuro Kaijitsu, formerly Amatatsu Tsutoku, selling the family's legendary sword Suishen to the Ulfen merchant Fynn Snaevald in the city of Kalsgard to finance his family's flight and exile; they knew that Suishen was intelligent, and could impart much more knowledge of the Amatatsu family's legacy if recovered; they knew that Ameiko herself was the heir of her line; and finally, they knew the power of the stone statuette, the Amatatsu Seal, and its warding box.

The Amatatsu Seal was one of five royal seals of Minkai, and represented the Amatatsu family's divine right to rule the empire of Minkai. Should no Amatatsus of pure blood be able to take up that charge, the Seal could invest the right to rule as an Amatatsu in any number of living, humanoid hosts, making them Amatatsu scions. The companions understood that the Seal had indeed invested each of them as just such a scion. The Seal had healing powers as well, and it revealed these to the heroes. In fact, Piotr instantly knew that the bird statue he had claimed was cursed, and would eventually corrupt his soul. The Amatatsu Seal unmade this curse, and the statue fell to the floor and crumbled to dust. They also were aware that the Seal radiated strong magic, and those with the proper resources could sense this magic across oceans and continents, allowing it to be tracked across any distance. Originally, this was meant to allow its rightful owners to track it if it were stolen, but this also made it vulnerable to tracking from enemies who might be seeking it. This was the purpose of the warding box. As long as it was closed, and the Seal contained within, no amount of divination could find it. Lastly, the Seal made it known that it could never be transported by teleportation magic or dimensional travel. It could not be taken from the Material Plane save via special portals blessed by the gods, and those who carried the Seal could neither cast nor otherwise use teleportation effects. This was meant to protect the Seal from being easily stolen, but it also meant that, if the Seal were to be returned to Minkai, it was going to be a very long journey.
 

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JollyDoc

Explorer
Night Of Frozen Shadows

6 Calistril-24 Calistril, 4715

"What should I do now?" Spivey asked, looking lost and a bit forlorn as her guests packed up their gear and prepared to return to their caravan.
"Come with us," Yannus shrugged. "Your work here is done. What's keeping you?"
The little angel looked thoughtful. "Where are you going?" she asked
Yannus turned to Ameiko, who had come to find her friends after awakening from her coma. She had explained to them that the Amatatsu Seal had also had a kami spirit attached to it, but when Rokuro had died, and the seal left abandoned, it had left its vessel to go in search of any surviving Amatatsus. When it had finally sensed her presence, it had possessed her, in a misguided effort to communicate. Now that the seal had been recovered, it had returned the kami had returned to resume its duties.
"First," she said, answering Spivey, "we are going to Kalsgard to reclaim my family's sword. Then, I intend to travel over the Crown of the World all the way to Tian Xia and Minkai to restore my family's name and heritage."
Spivey's eyes grew large. "You are going to travel across the top of the world??"
Ameiko winked and nodded.
"Even my former mistress never travelled so far!" Spivey exclaimed. "Yes, I would love to come with you! Just think of the stories I'll have to tell when I see Desna again!"

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The caravan of the Seven Scions of Sandpoint set out once more that afternoon, making for the upper Nolands, and then into the Land of the Linnorm Kings. Spivey and Kelda settled in nicely, though the latter ended up having to take over driving one of the wagons, as the Varisian woman Danica made it very clear that she had no intention of journeying across the world, and would be returning to Sandpoint immediately.

Less than a day out of Brinewall, the caravan came upon a group of stranded travelers. They drove a pack train, but had lost too many of their animals to continue. They begged passage, but quite simply, the caravan had no more room. Instead, Sandru agree to sell the travelers some of their supply goods, and Yannus advised them that Brinewall castle was only a few miles back. It would a good place for them to hold up until they could recover and resume their journey.

A day later, the caravan entered the cold, subarctic Land of the Linnorm Kings. One thing that was immediately noticeable were the ubiquitous flocks of ravens that constantly filled the skies above. It was Yannus who first noticed that, among the flocks, there was one much larger bird. Perhaps the size of a small dog, the raven also had one brilliant, red feather on one pinion. He pointed it out to the others, and the Varisians in the caravan immediately began forking the sign of the evil eye in its direction.
"'Tis a blood-feather raven," Kelda explained. "'Tis a bad omen. Such creatures are thought to be servants of dark powers."

As they continued to move north, the caravan stopped at the copper mine of Kopparberget, where a small village had grown up to support the dwarven miners there. They traded with the dwarves before setting out again, following an existing trade route to the town of Jol. Every other day or so, the blood-feather raven could be seen on the wing above them again, only to disappear a short time later. The mood among the Varisians grew more dour.

The route turned towards the Grungir Forest, and cut through its eastern neck. They were no more than a day away from the bridge to the city of Losthome, when they were set upon by a band of trolls. The battle was fierce, and would have gone worse for the group had Piotr not pointed out that trolls were susceptible to fire. With the help of his magic, and judicious use of alchemical fire, the giants were routed, but not before the caravan took significant damage. They limped into Losthome, where they were forced to spend four days making repairs. Unrest increased among the Varisians, but the combined talents of Ameiko and Yannus helped ameliorate the situation.
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The path turned north again, following the western bank of the Thundering River, until it reached the confluence of that waterway and the Rimeflow River. There, at Skalsbridge, the caravan made camp. The night was cold, and a frozen mist clung low to the ground, making the light dim, even within the range of the campfire. The sounds of the night were muted, but the dull silence was suddenly broken by the scrape of wood upon the gravel bank of the river...a boat had beached just beneath the bridge. This was quickly followed by the splash of feet in the shallows, and the oath-cries and battle songs of Ulfen raiders.

The heroes rushed forward to meet the onslaught of over a dozen crazed Ulfens while, out in the fog, they heard more raiders attacking the caravan. As the two groups clashed, Haroldo slashed the legs out from under one raider, while Yannus skewered another one. After that, however, Haroldo found himself surrounded and assaulted from all sides, while Yannus took a blow as he struggled to recover his glaive. Haroldo's blood boiled as he raged and hacked around him, cleaving his blade through two warriors. As his back was turned, two more Ulfens closed in, slashing at his exposed flank. Behind him, Lucian dropped a raider with a well-placed arrow, but he could see that the blood rager wouldn't last much longer. He rushed to Haroldo's side and laid his hands upon the big man, allowing the healing power of his god to flow through him and into his friend.

Across the battlefield, Yannus continued to fend off raiders who were encroaching on Piotr. The sorcerer back-pedaled as he was being hemmed in, and then, at the last moment, he flung both hands out and loosed a cone of flames, engulfing all of his assailants. From behind them came Mazael, his falchion hewing madly, cutting down one of the burned Ulfens. Yannus took the opportunity to bring his own magic to bear, unleashing a brilliant flash of light, which blinded several of the warriors, but unfortunately affected Haroldo as well.

Haroldo never slowed. The latent magic that lay within him caused his body to blur as he continued to rage, slashing about him madly, and continuing to bring down enemies, even blind as he was. The tide of battle inexorably turned as the Ulfens were cut down. Two turned and fled across the bridge, vanishing into the mists, but their brethren did not far so well. The heroes, battered and bloodied themselves, cut them down to a man. As the din of battle faded, Ameiko, Sandru, Koya, Shalelu, Kelda and Spivey joined them out of the mist, equally bruised and injured, but just as victorious.

In the aftermath of the battle, the companions discovered that all of the raiders wore identical gold bands around their upper arms, engraved with the image of a stylized lion.
"These are the mark of a ring-giver," Kelda explained. "A local lord will give these to his loyal men as a sign of fealty."
"Do you recognize this emblem?" Yannus asked. "Why would they attack us?"
Kelda shook her head. "There are many minor lords in Kalsgard," she explained. "Perhaps we can learn more when we reach the city."
Further investigation also revealed the raiders' boat, a fifty-foot river craft with the name Aril's Hammer engraved on the prow. The group debated the wisdom of trying to row the ship down river to Kalsgard and sell it, but ultimately decided that might draw too much attention. The boat was scuttled.

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The remainder of the trek to Kalsgard was largely uneventful, save for a foiled attempt by a group of bandits to try and rob the caravan under cover of fog and darkness. Kalsgard itself came into view roughly twenty days after the caravan left Brinewall. The trading capital and oldest surviving settlement of the Linnorm Kingdoms, the city was a huge, bustling metropolis rising upon the southern shore of the Rimeflow River's wide mouth, with a population of over seventy thousand.
"Once we pass the gates," Sandru explained, "we'll be entering the Bone Quarter. It's the poorest section of the city, but it's were most Varisian caravans camp. Mostly because the Ulfen's see little distinction between honest caravaneers, such as ourselves, and Sczarni con artists. I suggest, little brothers," he said to Yannus and Koman, "that you and your friends procure your own quarters in the city. This will help throw off suspicion while I make preparations for the journey over the Crown of the World."

Following Sandru's advice, the heroes split up, and planned to meet up at an unassuming inn latter in the day. Piotr made his way through the city to the Fire Quarter, a rowdy district where all manner of Ulfen competition, relaxation, and entertainment took place. There he made surreptitious inquiries about the local lords and their sigils. It didn't take him long to discover that the lion's head emblem was the rune-sign of a ring-giver named Asvig Longthews. Further questioning also revealed that Fynn Snaevald, the merchant who purchased the sword Suishen from Rokuro Kaijitsu over sixty years ago, was still alive and well. He apparently still worked as an independent trader of amber and whale oil, as well as a collector of Tian antiquities, out of his home in the Amber Quarter.

For his part, Yannus went in search of a shrine to his goddess, Shelyn, that he had leearned existed in the city. He finally found it in the Jade Quarter, a district which served as a home to a large Tian immigrant population coming over the Crown of the World. The old priest of the shrine was a man named Yin-Po. He was pleased to meet a fellow adherent of the love goddess, but was curious as to what had brought Yannus so far from home.
"I'm hired on as a caravan guard," the young cleric explained, somewhat circuitously. "My employer is looking to find a guide over the Crown of the World to Minkai."
"Oh, you may have difficulty there," Yin-Po shook his head. "This is the off-season for such travel. The morozko storms sweep across the Crown this time of year. Most of the guides who know the route are retained by the merchant guilds, and would not be free to take on such an unsanctioned journey."
"I see," Yannus nodded. "You wouldn't happen to know of any freelance guides, would you?"
Yin-Po looked at him guardedly.
"I'm afraid not," he said curtly. "In any event, I wish you good luck and a safe journey, brother. Please feel free to come by for services during your stay."

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The companions regrouped and, based on Piotr's information, decided to first seek out Fynn Snaevald. Ameiko insisted on coming along, wanting to hear first-hand any information related to her family. The Amber Quarter was the hub of manufacturing and production in Kalsgard, with shops that sold similar wares congregating close together along the streets. Thus, it was not difficult to find Fynn's home. When Yannus knocked on he door, it was answered by a slender, wiry old man with blue veins crawling across his arms and neck beneath a shock of white beard and hair that floated around his head like a halo.
"Help you?" he asked.
"Are you Fynn Snaevald?" Ameiko asked.
"The one and only," the old man grinned. "And who might you be?"
"My name is Ameiko Kaijitsu," she replied. "Sixty years ago, your purchased a sword from my grandfather, Rokuro. Do you remember this?"
"Suishen," Fynn breathed. "Of course I remember. It hung over my mantle there up until two weeks past. I tried to carry it once upon a time, but it gave me a sort of...a funny feeling."
"Two weeks?" Ameiko asked. "Did you sell it?"
"Hah!" Fynn barked. "Never! 'Twas stolen! A band of black-masked thieves broke in and took it! Didn't see them myself. Wasn't home, but several of my servants were killed in the dust up. One of my men, Olaf, was still alive when I came back. Told me what happened before he expired. The only thing he said about the thieves was that one of them was much taller than the others, and seemed to be in charge. I reported it to the city watch, but nothing's come of it. Tell you what, though: if you youngsters find out who took my property and killed my people, and exact my sworn blood vengeance upon them, then the sword is yours."
"Can you think of anything else that might help us find the perpetrators?" Yannus asked.
Fynn thought hard for a moment, stroking his beard.
"Now that you mention it," he said at length, "Olaf did say one more thing. He muttered something about paying the lion's due. Didn't think much of it at the time. Just the ramblings of a dying man who'd lost his wits."
Yannus looked pointedly at his companions, and then withdrew one of the armbands they'd taken from the raiders from his cloak.
"Have you ever seen this before?" he asked.
"Aye," he nodded, taking the band. "'Tis the rune-sign of Asvig Longthews...Wait a minute! Longthews is a tall fellow. You think it was he that took the sword?"
"It would seem so," Yannus said. "Men wearing these rings set upon us on the road not five days past. Do you know where Longthews lives?"
"Not exactly," Fynn shook his head, "but I know his farm is somewhere outside of town. I also hear-tell that he has several dozen warriors as his bondsmen."
"Well, he has a couple of dozen less now," Haroldo growled.

__________________________________________________________________________

It didn't take much investigating to discover that the farm of Asvig Longthews lay about a two hour walk southeast of the city, in an area of lightly forested and marshy hills. The companions decided to pay the local ring-giver a visit that very night. At first, Ameiko wanted to accompany them, but Sandru convinced her that it would be in her best interest to stay with the caravan and the Seal, while he went with the young heroes. Kelda also agreed to come along, since she was most familiar with Ulfen customs.

When the group reached the Longthews farm, it was after nightfall, and the main house was ablaze with light, with the sounds of boisterous celebration coming from inside. As they approached cautiously, they saw that a ring of short wooden posts driven into the ground surrounded the farm and its outlying buildings. The main road to the house passed between two of those posts. The posts were topped with fancifully carved lion heads, matching those on Asvig's arm rings. Piotr held up a hand as the group drew closer.
"There's magic here," he murmured. "Some sort of conjuration dweomer."
Mazael moved a few steps further.
"There are runes carved into the posts," he said, "and it looks like someone drew another rune in the dirt between them, then tried to erase it. I think I can redraw it."
He bent to the task, and after a few moments, stood up and nodded.
"I think I got it."
To test the theory, he stepped between the posts. Instantly, there were two flashes of light, one from each post, and a moment later, a pair of large felines appeared out of thin air and, snarling, hurtled towards the companions.
One of the summoned lions leaped for Sandru, and ripped at his arm with its razor-sharp claws. The second one pounced on Lucian, clawing and biting. Lucian drew his cudgel from his belt and slammed it across the snout of the beast, while Sandru rolled behind it and thrust his sword through its spine. With a yowl, the lion-creature vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Yannus and Mazael turned on the other cat, and quickly dispatched it as well.

The companions continued on, as quietly as they could, to the farmhouse. Just before they reached it, Sandru hissed to get everyone's attention. Turning to look at him, the others saw him point back up the road in the direction from which they'd come. There, perhaps a mile or two away, they saw a column of torches, maybe twenty or more, heading towards the farm.
"I figure we've got maybe an hour before we have company," Sandru said.
Yannus nodded, then gestured for Haroldo to open the door. The big warrior slammed one large boot into the door and sent it flying inward. The long main hall beyond had a sunken floor with a raised platform along the sides. These were crowded with trestle tables and chairs, while a fire pit dominated the center of the floor. Twenty Ulfen warriors filled the room, though maybe half of them were passed out drunk. The others were drinking heavily, and manhandling the young female thralls serving them. The noise stopped abruptly as the door slammed open.
"ON BEHALF OF FLYNN SNAEVALD," Yannus's voice boomed into the silence, "WE DEMAND WEREGILD FROM ASVIG LONGTHEWS!!"
The silence stretched a heartbeat longer, and then the Ulfens burst into laughter as they rose to their feet and drew their battle axes...
 

JollyDoc

Explorer
First Blood

25 Calistril, 4715

Boris didn't wait for a response from the Ulfens. Drawing his brand new pair of wakizashis, he ran screaming into the room, leaped up onto one of the raised platforms, and rammed one blade into the groin of the nearest warrior. The big man grunted, and doubled over, his blood pulsing out in great gouts as he collapsed to the ground. With no choice at that point but to follow the insane goblin's lead, Lucian knelt and put an arrow through the chest of another Ulfen, and Piotr finished the man off with a cloud of freezing, black motes.

Sandru glanced at Koman and shrugged, then launched himself into a forward roll between a pair of drunken, swaying Ulfens. Koman followed his older brother, and the pair of them quickly flanked and dispatched one of the inebriated warriors. Up on the nearest platform, Boris drove one sword into the throat of an Ulfen who was still snoring loudly in a drunken stupor. Another warrior rushed up behind him as he knelt, and managed to open a gash in the goblin's back before he rolled away. Mazael suffered a glancing blow as well as he plowed into the main room and brought his falchion down on another sleeper. Slowly, the remaining Ulfens who'd been sleeping began to rouse, and climb slowly to their feet, looking around in bleary-eyed confusion. Haroldo, side-by-side with the battle-maddened Kelda, dispatched one of them before he could get his bearings. Yannus, still standing at the entrance to the house, saw three warriors converging on Boris, which another pair moving in to flank the little goblin. Gripping his holy symbol, he called forth a thunder clap of sound that momentarily stunned the first three.

At that moment, on the far end of the room, an ornate folding screen was pushed aside as another Ulfen warrior entered the room. Immediately behind him, came a woman dressed in fine furs, and with a raven perched on her shoulder. She fixed her gaze on Boris, still standing over the pair of men he'd slain, and she forked her fingers at him. Boris's eyes rolled back in his head, and he swooned and collapsed into a deep slumber. The pair of Ulfens flanking him brought their axes down upon him mercilessly.

The other companions were not near enough to Boris to aid him, but they fought on as if possessed. Mazael, aided by Lucian's arrows, took down one man, while Koman beat another one to the ground. Sandru leaped to Haroldo's side and slew one warrior as he was still strapping on his shield, then Haroldo swept his greatsword in huge arc, and took out another pair. Meanwhile, Piotr, realizing who the real threat in the room was, conjured a sphere of flames out of thin air, and sent it bouncing towards the witch. It set the hem of her skirts ablaze, causing her to beat frantically at them to extinguish herself.

Then, from behind the witched, another warrior entered the room, but this was was easily head-and-shoulders taller than any of the others, and wore fine armor beneath furred robes. This could be none other than Asvig Longthews. At the same time, the doors to the kitchen flew open, and four more warriors streamed in. The companions were completely surrounded at this point, but that did not slow them. Koman slew one of the men still recovering from Yannus's sound burst as he bent to retrieve his sword. Boris, awake once more, but bleeding profusely, rolled to his feet and quickly grabbed his blades. Lucian dropped another warrior with his bow, but suffered a glancing blow for his trouble. At that moment, a woman's scream split the air. All combatants turned to look, pausing in their efforts to kill each other. The witch, her dress still ablaze, was falling as a barrage of streaking missiles from Piotr struck her full in the chest. Silence engulfed the room, and then a moment later was split by another cry, this time from Asvig.
"HELVA!!!"
Rage suffused the Ulfen chieftain, and he lunged into the melee, heedless of the danger. He shoved his own men out of his way, ignoring blows from Kelda, Koman, and even Boris, though his blood flowed freely. Finally, he reached the door, and Piotr, who had just murdered his wife. He lunged forward with a shortspear and swept the sorcerer's legs from under him, sending him sprawling to the ground. His companions sprang into action, fighting viciously to reach their friend, felling warrior after warrior, but still unable to get to Asvig. The chieftain raised his spear high, preparing to impale Piotr, but then, out of the corner of his eye, the sorcerer spotted his flaming sphere, still sitting on Helva's corpse. With a thought, he called it to him, and it leapt through the air, landing directly on Asvig's back. He howled as he was suddenly engulfed in flames and dropped, burning, to the floor.

Eight Ulfen warriors still stood, but when they saw their leader fall, they all simultaneously dropped their weapons and raised their hands in surrender.

________________________________________________________________________

As Yannus and Koman were the only ones fluent in the Skald language (besides Kelda), it fell to them to interrogate the Ulfens.
"We saw lights on the road," Yannus began. "How many more are coming?"
The warrior he was questioning shrugged. "Maybe two dozen. It is a celebration. All of Longthews' huscarls have been called in."
"Celebration?" Koman asked. "Of what?"
"We honor the passing of Snorri Stone-Eye," the Ulfen replied. "He was ring-giver to Asvig Longthews."
"What did your lord do with the sword that you took?" Yannus asked.
The warrior shook his head. "I do not know."
"You don't deny you stole it?" the priest pressed
"Asvig tells us to take the sword, so we take the sword," the prisoner said.
"Why did you kill Snaevald's people?" Koman snapped.
"Asvig said leave no witnesses," replied the Ulfen.
"You, and any who were directly involved, now owe weregild to Flynn Snaevald," Yannus pronounced. "What do you offer?"
The warrior looked around at his fellows, and all nodded slightly.
"We offer ourselves as thralls," he said calmly.
Yannus considered this, then nodded as well. "That is acceptable."

Yannus turned his attention to the thralls still huddled in one corner of the great hall. The companions had discovered several more in the kitchen and pantry, some of whom looked like they had been used roughly.
"You are all safe," he said gently. "What would you do now?"
"We are yours, Lord," one of the women replied simply.
"Flynn Snaevald has need of servants," Yannus said. "Would you be willing to serve him? He would be a kind master."
The women looked at one another and nodded enthusiastically.
"Can any of you tell me if Asvig has had any recent dealings with any strangers?" Yannus asked.
They looked at each other again, and the one who spoke for them answered.
"Just the guide from the city," she said.
"What guide?" Koman asked.
"Ulf Gormundr," she replied. "He came several days ago, and our Lord...Asvig...had him taken captive."
"Is he still here?" Yannus asked.
"No," the thrall said. "He was taken yesterday. Asvig said he would be joining Snorri Stone-Eye."
"What?" Yannus asked. "What does that mean? I thought the warriors said he was dead."
"He is," the woman said. "But his funeral barge will be lit at dawn. I think Asvig meant that he was taking the guide to the barge."
"Do you know where?" asked Yannus.
"The docks in the Fire Quarter," the girl replied. "Oh, there was another visitor today as well. A Vharki woman."
Yannus looked questioningly at Kelda.
"An ice-dwelling people," the Ulfen woman explained. "They are nomads, much like your Varisians."
"She came looking for the guide as well," the thrall explained, "but my Lord had his men beat her and throw her off his land."
"What a saint," Koman snorted.

As the thralls gathered their meager belongings, and the other heroes looted the farmhouse and prepared the prisoners to travel before the rest of Asvig's men arrived, Koman pulled one of the serving girls aside, a pretty young blonde with ice-blue eyes.
"What is your name?" he asked.
"Olga," she said shyly, casting her eyes downward.
"Do you want to accompany your friends to your new employers, or," Koman winked slyly, "would you like a life of adventure, treasure-seeking and constant excitement?"
"Are you the ones that Asvig sent his men to raid upon three nights past?" she asked excitedly.
"You know about that?" Koman asked.
"Yes," she nodded, "the Lord bragged about it. He sent them on a long boat loaned to him by the Rimerunners Guild."
"I see," Koman said. "Yes, that's us, and as you can see, he failed, and we don't take kindly to people trying to kill us. We always pay our debts. So what's your answer?"
"Oh yes! Yes!" she giggled.

___________________________________________________________________________

As the companions made their final preparations to depart Asvig's farm, Boris caught sight of a solitary figure approaching the house through the night mist.
"Who goes there?" Yannus called.
The figure came slowly forward into the torchlight, hands spread to show they were unarmed. It was a woman dressed in heavy furs. Her features were flatter and more swarthy than the Ulfens, and her hair was raven black. One eye was swollen shut, and numerous bruises adorned her face.
"My name is Uksahkka," she said in accented Skald. "Did you find him? Did you find Ulf?"
"Are you the Vharki woman who came her earlier today?" Yannus asked.
She nodded. "I came looking for my friend. Asvig Longthews came to him several days ago and offered him a job planning a trade route through the Grungnir Forest. Ulf was happy to have the work. He has not been very popular with the guilds of late. He came her two days ago to finalize plans, and he never returned. When I came seeking him, I was told he had never arrived, and was thrown out. Yin-Po told me that you had come by his shrine asking about a guide. I tracked down your caravan and followed you here. So did you find him?"
"No," Yannus shook his head, and Uksahkka's face fell. "The thralls told us that he has likely been placed upon the funeral barge of Snorri Stone-Eye, which is set to be launched at dawn."
Uksahkka sniffed back tears and nodded.
"I know of this," she said, "but I think the funeral will be delayed. There will be a heavy fog in the morning, and it will not clear until sunset. The barge will be guarded by three dozen of Snorri's huscarls. It will be vulnerable, however as it sails out of the harbor."
"How do you know all of this?" Yannus asked, suspiciously.
Uksahkka shrugged. "Vharki women sometimes have a sixth sense about the weather. It was passed to me by my mother, and to her by her mother before."
"A useful talent," Yannus smiled. "How would reach the barge if it is already at sail and alight?"
"The pyre will be lit by a timed flame," the Vharki explained. "It will not ignite until it is past Spear-Shaker Point. If you and your friends meet me there an hour before sunset, I will bring kayaks. These are small boats that my people use. They are easy to master, and I can teach you quickly. You can use them to paddle out to the barge."
"You seem to have all the answers," Yannus said, arching one eyebrow.
"If I did, Ulf would be here now," she replied bitterly. "I will not go to the death ship, but I will meet you at the Shellyn's shrine after. Give this token to Yin-Po, and he will bring you to a safe house where I will meet you."
She handed Yannus a clay disc with the image of a songbird stamped on one side.
"Until we meet again."

___________________________________________________________________________

"Paddle boats!??" Mazael raged. "Do I look like I can swim??!"
He indicated his large frame, sheathed neck to foot in plate armor.
"Boris agree," Boris piped in. "Is stupid idea. Why we listen to stupid boat lady? Boris have better plan."

The group had made their way back to Kalsgard under cover of darkness, and back to Flynn Snaevald's. The old shopkeeper was overjoyed at his new thralls and enthusiastic serving girls, and was, if anything, happier when Haroldo presented him with the severed head of Asvig Longthews. He was disappointed to hear that Suishen had not been recovered, but assured the heroes that, should they recover it, it was theirs to keep. Afterwards, the group had returned to the Bone Quarter and their caravan to discuss their next move.

"I can't believe I'm asking this," Yannus sighed, "but what is your plan, Boris?"
"Rest of you go learn how to paddle boats," the goblin said, "and Boris will sneak on fire boat. If Ulf man on boat, Boris set him free so he not burn up. Then, when boat sail past you, you paddle little toy boats over and we all get away. Simple."
"What part of 'I don't swim' didn't you understand?" Mazael barked.
"And what about the three dozen Ulfens guarding the barge?" Koman asked.
"You stay on shore," Boris waved at Mazael, "and if Boris not want to be seen, three hundred vikings not see him. Plus, Boris have this!"
He pulled a small vial out of his belt pouch.
"What is that?" Yannus asked.
"Special potion," Boris smiled. "Boris buy in market today. Make Boris invisible."
Yannus looked to the others.
"Does anyone have any better ideas?" he asked.
"Not as long as I don't have to swim," Mazael grumbled.

___________________________________________________________________________

The next morning, just as Uksahkka predicted, a heavy fog rolled in off the bay, and Snorri Stone-Eyes funeral barge remained at dock. As the day wore on towards evening, however, the fog began to lift, and the Scions began making their way towards the rocky peninsula known as Spear-Shaker Point, accompanied by Kelda and Shalelu. As they walked through the city, an unusual number of ravens gathered on the rooftops and in the trees along their route, appearing to almost watch and follow the companions with their black eyes.

As prearranged, Boris separated from the others when they reached the docks, and made his way stealthily towards the barge. Just as Uksahkka said, no less than three dozen burly Ulfens milled about on the pier around the boat, drinking, laughing and singing. Boris quaffed his potion and promptly vanished from sight. From there, it was effortless for him to sneak onboard the barge. The deck of the longship had been built up with planks over the old rowing benches, creating a space belowdecks. It appeared that the funerary treasures had been placed in that hold, as the deck was empty save for a silent, shrouded form resting atop a bier in front of the mast, surrounded by stacked wood. A leather sack sat atop a small pile of sand at the base of the bier. Boris found a hatch near the bow, but it appeared to be nailed shut. He let out a long sigh, then settled down in the shadows to wait until sunset.

True to her word, Uksahkka was waiting for the rest of the Scions on the rocky beach at Spear-Shaker Point. She had four small two-man boats pulled up on the shore, each with a pair of double-bladed paddles. For the next half-hour, she taught the heroes the basics of paddling the kayaks, and keeping them upright. Finally, as the sun began to set, the companions saw in the distance, Snorri Stone-Eye's funeral ship set sail.

Boris watched as an Ulfen warrior stepped on board the ship with a lit torch. He touched it to the small leather sack atop the sand pile, and it promptly began to smoke. When he stepped off the boat, the other warriors raised their drinking horns a final time, and began to sing loudly as the boat was unmoored and pushed out to sea. Boris waited several minutes before he crept out of cover. He knelt down beside the hatch and pressed one enormous ear to it. Faintly, from below, he caught the sound of chains clinking. Pulling the crowbar Haroldo had loaned him out of his pack and went to work on the hatch. It took some time, but he finally managed to pry it off. The hold below was a cramped space, nor more than four-feet high, but this proved no impediment for the diminutive goblin. Boris dropped down and made his way through stacks of funerary treasures, occasionally stopping to pocket a few trinkets here and there. At one point, an ornate great helm caught his eye. It had golden inlays and backswept wings mounted to its sides. Boris made a mental note to come back for it. When he reached the center mast, he saw the chain he'd heard earlier bolted to the wood. It stretched away into an odd mist that filled the hold's stern. It didn't seem like smoke, but Boris shrugged and began to follow the chain. Eventually, it ran between a pair of crates. The goblin cautiously peered over the top. On the other side, a figure crouched in the mist with its back to him.
"Ulf?" Boris called out.
The figure slowly rose and turned towards him. He was dressed in a finely wrought chain shirt, but his skin dripped with seaweed and putrid seawater. Barnacles grew out of his flesh, and an eyepatch covered his left eye. He gripped a wicked-looking great axe in his hands.
"Ooohhh," the goblin breathed. "Boris think you not Ulf..."

The attention of the Scions was focused on the approaching funeral ship, a column of smoke now rising from its deck, but no sign of Boris nor Ulf.
"There!" Shalelu suddenly called out.
The others looked more closely at the ship, but then noticed that the ranger was pointing towards the water, where a large wake was moving steadily towards the shore. Then, something huge emerged from beneath the waves. It resembled an enormous crab, the size of a wagon, with a thick, spiny carapace, and over-long legs. Shalelu's bow was in her hand in an instant, and she rapidly fired off a volley of three arrows, each one striking true, but not slowing the huge crustacean at all. Koman stepped forward to the edge of the water and braced himself.
"Stay behind me!" he called over his shoulder.
Yannus did as he asked, but upended a flask, and instantly grew to twice his size, his enormous glaive now extending over his brother's shoulder.

Boris weighed his options, and then did the first thing that came to mind. He leaped at the dripping corpse, both blades flashing. He impaled the thing with one wakizashi, but Snorri Stone-Eye batted aside his second thrust. Then the undead Ulfen brought his axe down, opening a gaping wound in Boris's thigh. At the same time, the goblin felt a bone-numbing cold sink into his flesh, leaving him feeling weak and winded. Rethinking his strategy, he limped backwards into the mist, quickly loosing sight of Snorri, and ducking behind a stack of boxes.

Shalelu continued to pepper the giant crab with arrows as it reached the shore, and Piotr hurled a barrage of magic missiles towards it as well. Still it stood, unfazed, snapping its huge claws repeatedly at Koman as the slayer deftly fended off its blows, aided by quick parries from Yannus' pole-arm. It was inevitable, however, that Koman would eventually be just a hair too slow. One claw thrust forward and clamped around his waist, crushing and cracking ribs. Before the crab could pull him into the water, however, he managed to pivot and wrench himself free, but he was bleeding freely.

Boris held his breath as Snorri Stone-Eye stalked towards his hiding place. He thought he was in the clear as the old pirate moved past him, but then Snorri turned, and stared right at the goblin with his one good eye. Boris moved quickly, tucking into a roll, but his wound slowed him, and he could not avoid Snorri's second blow. The last thing he saw before everything went black was the gleaming axe blade whistling towards him.

"Get back!" Kelda screamed as she rushed to Koman's aid. "Move!"
However, just as she reached the slayer, the crab smashed her to the the ground. Mazael and Haroldo began to move forward, but not before the crab seized Koman again, and lifted him bodily into the air. His scream was cut off as blood frothed from his mouth. The crab shook him violently, the cast him aside into the water, where he floated face-down, motionless.
Lucian, Shalelu and Piotr redoubled their ranged attacks, while Mazael and Haroldo hammered at the beast relentlessly until it finally collapsed.
 

JollyDoc

Explorer
Endings And Beginnings

26 Calistril-27 Calistril, 4715

Koman was dead. That fact was indisputable, but the remaining Scions still had a job to do. The funeral barge was approaching, the smoke from its deck thickening, and Boris was still somewhere on board, presumably with Ulf Gormundr. Yannus solemnly draped Koman's cloak over his body, and then the companions boarded the kayaks and paddled out to the drifting long ship. They tied their kayaks to the bow and climbed aboard. Quickly, Yannus crossed to the burning coal bag and removed it from atop the oil flask.
"We need to move fast," he said to the others. "If this ship doesn't go up in flames soon, we're going to be getting a lot of Ulfen company."
They crossed to the pried-open hatch and peered down into the gloom below.
"Boris!" Yannus called. "Can you hear me?"
There was no reply...only the distant sound of clinking chains.
"Check that," Yannus instructed Haroldo, pointing to the shrouded body resting on the funeral pyre.
Haroldo crossed to the pyre and flung back the shroud. Beneath it was a wooden mannikin.
"Fake," he said.
"Well, I guess we have no choice but to see what's below," Yannus shrugged.

One-by-one they climbed down into the hold. It was positively claustrophobic by the time they all squeezed in. They could see through the various funerary treasures to the mast amid ships, but beyond that was a strange, rolling mist.
"Boris!" Yannus called again.
"Help me!" a voice called from somewhere in the mist. It was not Boris, but the accent was Varisian. Possibly Chelaxian? "There's a zombie in here! Watch out!"
As the voice faded, the sound of chains and heavy footsteps drew closer from the mist.
"There!" Kelda shouted, pointing. "I see something!"
Without waiting for an answer, the Ulfen woman drew her blade and charged towards the fog where she saw a shadowy form lurking. She swung at the figure, but her blade was caught and turned by the head of a great axe. Then, stepping out of the shadows, Snorri Stone-Eye short-hafted his weapon and buried the blade in Kelda's shoulder. She cried out, not only from the pain, but from horror as she felt a small piece of her soul leached away through the weapon.

Piotr, now able to see their opponent, conjured a cloud of black dancing motes around Snorri's head. The undead captain batted at them, annoyed, but then a blast of light exploded around him as Yannus hurled his own magic, hoping to blind his one good eye. When the light faded, however, Snorri born burn and scorch marks, but his vision did not seem to be impaired, as evidenced by the fact that he struck Kelda again, driving her almost to her knees. Then Haroldo was there, the big man's own blade hammering into the undead Ulfen. Piotr capitalized on the distraction by hurling an orb of fire at the draugr, but Snorri strode right through it, unmarked. Kelda scrambled to put some distance between herself and the captain, but she was too slow. Snorri's axe came down one final time, and Kelda did not rise again.

Mazael stepped up to support Haroldo, and Shalelu, her bow stowed and a short sword in her hand, moved in to flank. The three of them struck repeatedly at the draugr captain, but could not bring him down. Snorri dealt a pair of withering blows to Haroldo in turn, and though bleeding and pale, the blood-rager did not give ground. He raised his great sword and brought it down on Snorri Stone-Eye's neck. Finally, he collapsed, sea water and putrescence spilling out on the planks.

____________________________________________________________________________

They found Boris where he'd fallen, unconscious but stable, with the winged great helm resting on his head. He was disoriented after they revived him, but quickly got his bearings. Following the cries for help deeper into the hold, the companions found a very odd creature bound hand and foot...and tail. It resembled a human-sized ape, but its eyes were obviously intelligent.
"Thanks the gods!" the creature exclaimed when it saw them. "I thought that monster would be the end of me! Please, set me free!"
"Who...what...are you?" Yannus asked.
"My name is Neko," the creature replied. "I am a vanara."
"And how exactly did you come to be in this situation?" Yannus pressed
"I am...was...a circus performer," Neko said. "Perhaps you've heard of us? The Hellknight's Tent of Endless Pleasure, Leisure and Recreation, out of Cheliax. No? Anyway, we travel the region often, but not long after we came into the Ulfen lands, we were set upon by raiders. I fear the circus was destroyed, and most of my companions killed or scattered. I was taken captive and placed here as some sort of offering to that vile...thing! Please! Free me!"
"Enough talk," Boris grumbled as he drew a wakizashi and sliced the vanara's bonds.
"Thanks you!" Neko gushed. "You saved my life! Among my people, that means I owe you a life debt!"
"Whatever," Boris shrugged.

At that moment, a loud 'whump' sound came from the deck above, accompanied by the smell of smoke. Quickly, the companions ran for the hatch and pulled themselves back topside. The wooden bier had become fully alight and burned brightly at midship. Beyond it in the water, the heroes could see the kayaks that brought them there cut loose and drifting out of reach. Tied off at the stern of the ship were two large canoes, into which a group of six black-clad, masked figures were quickly clambering.
"We need to move!" Lucian shouted.
The oracle followed words with action, running full speed across the deck, and straight through the spreading flames, heedless of the burns he suffered. He closed the distance with the ninjas quickly, and was among them before they could react. Yannus, realizing that Lucian had just likely signed his own death warrant, followed after, but not before casting a spell of protection on himself to shield him from the fire. To everyone's surprise, Neko was the next to move. The monkey-boy leaped effortlessly over the fire, landed briefly on all fours, then leaped again, soaring over the heads of the startled ninjas, and landing nimbly in one of the canoes.
"Hmph," Boris snorted. "Boris can do that."
To prove his point, the goblin got a running start and hurtled the bonfire. He landed in a full run, then dodged and rolled among the legs of the ninjas before reaching the bow railing, and then hopping into the canoe next to Neko.
"Well done, Master!" Neko grinned.
"Boris not your Master," Boris scowled.

The ninjas may have been taken aback by the boldness of their quarry, but they recovered quickly. Two of them ran to the bow, unlimbered short bows, and began firing at Neko and Boris. Two more closed in on Lucian, trying to force him over the side of the boat, while the final pair flanked Yannus, one of them driving a wickedly pointed stake-like weapon into the priest's belly. Then, a flash of light and glitter exploded around three of the ninjas, temporarily blinding them. Yannus glanced over his shoulder, and nodded his appreciation at Piotr. He nodded again, this time at Shalelu, when a pair of arrows sprouted from the throat of one of his assailants, sending the ninja tumbling over the rail.

Haroldo, Kelda's body slung over one shoulder. lumbered like an angry bear across the deck of the barge. As he ran, he allowed his rage to fuel him, unlocking his latent magic, this time in the form of fire resistance, as it rose. He barreled through the flames and through the ninjas, leaping into the canoe with Boris and Neko, setting it rocking dangerously. Behind him, Lucian, being pressed precariously close to the rail by his two attackers, turned and jumped, landing clumsily, but safely in the second, empty canoe. He then turned, drew back his bow, and fired a deadly shot into one of the blind assassins, dropping the ninja instantly. Yannus struck another of the blind killers, and as that one spun away, groping, Neko, now with a bow in his hands as well, fired three arrows into him, killing him. Boris shot the last of the blind ninjas, killing him as well, leaving only two still standing. Shalelu and Lucian combined their arrows to slay one, while Yannus, with an assist from Piotr's magic missiles, took down the last.

The flames continued to spread, and now pieces of the deck began to collapse. Yannus heaved three of the dead ninjas into Lucian's canoe before following himself. Mazael pulled a flask from his belt pouch, drank it, then lifted into the air, taking flight. He flew to the canoe with Lucian and Yannus, and they tossed him a rope up. He then towed the boat around to the bow of the barge, allowing Shalelu and Piotr to climb aboard. With everyone safe, the companions paddled their vessels back to the shore of Spear-Shaker Point.

__________________________________________________________________________

Beneath their masks, the dead ninja were all Tian, both male and female. The only identifying item on them was a small, jade statue of a raven that each carried.
"This just gets better and better," Mazael growled. "First we got vikings trying to kills us, and now ninjas! And we still haven't found the sword or the actual viking we're looking for!"
"We have more immediate concerns," Yannus said quietly as his eyes fell to the bodies of Kelda and his brother. "Kelda never mentioned family here in Kalsgard, other than her fellow raiders. She was a brave and honorable companion, and I think we should lay her to rest in the Ulfen way."
"What? Burn her and all her gear up on a boat?" Mazael snapped. "Seems a waste."
"We'll remember that if you ever get killed," Lucian smirked.
"Yeah, you do that, knife-ear," the war priest sneered.
"What about your brother?" Piotr asked Yannus.
"We're taking him back to the caravan," the priest replied. "We can use the power of the Seal to resurrect him."
"Wait!" Lucian cried. "If we do that, if we open the Seals warding box, then we risk exposing it's location to the Five Storms!"
"Wait, lemme get this straight," Mazael chuckled and shook his head at Lucian. "You get all weepy and bent out of shape about taking potentially useful gear off a stranger we met on the road, but when it comes to doing something meaningful for one of our own, you're gonna cry foul?"
"I'm just saying," Lucian sighed, "that we need to consider all of our options, and the risks involved."
"The only option," Yannus said with a note of finality,"is to bring my brother back from the dead if we have the power to do so. We will, of course, discuss this with Ameiko, but I feel certain that she'll agree."

They secured Kelda and her belongings in one of the canoes. Then, after stacking it high with driftwood, they set it ablaze and pushed it out to see. So passed Kelda Oxgutter.
The Scions then made their way back to the gates of Kalsgard, whereupon they were immediately stopped by the city guard.
"What's all this then?" one of them said, indicating Koman's body slung over Haroldo's shoulder.
"He's my brother," Yannus explained. "We were traveling up the coast when we were set upon by an enormous crab."
"Sounds like a shark-eater," the guard nodded. "Fair amount of them in these waters."
"Show him, Boris," Yannus instructed.
Boris dutifully hauled a hunk of crabmeat as large as he was out of his pack.
"We managed to slay it," Yannus said, "but not before it killed my brother."
"Dangerous outside the city walls," the guard said soberly. "You have my sympathies. Where are you taking him?"
"To our caravan in the Bone Quarter," Yannus replied. "To prepare him for burial."

Koya was grief-stricken when she saw Koman's body and heard what had transpired. Sandru was grim-faced, but silent.
"We will use the Seal," Ameiko suggested immediately, even before Yannus had a chance to suggest it himself.
"I had hoped you would say as much," Yannus said, gratefully. "Though I know you are aware of the risk."
"If I am not willing to make sacrifices for my friends and family," Ameiko replied, "then what is the point of making this journey at all?"
She brought out the warding box and opened it, exposing the Seal. She drew it forth and rested it upon Koman's chest. It pulsed once with emerald light, and then became dormant again. Nothing changed. Then, each of the Scions gasped as their eyes rolled back in their heads, overcome with another vision. This time it was of Koman, standing in a sun-drenched, wooded glade, a peaceful smile on his face.
'Continue the journey, my friends,' he spoke to all of them. 'I'm staying behind. Know that I have no regrets, and you have my blessing. Go with Desna, and may the road rise up to greet you.'
The vision faded, and they all knew implicitly that Koman was well and truly gone.

Koya was understandably saddened, and disappointed, but she respected her son's decision. As was the Varsian way, his family, Yannus, Sandru, and herself, would divide up his possessions. For his part, Sandru took only the wayfinder Koman had found in the dungeons of Brinewall. The kami-possessed sash that Koman had worn was now inert, it's spirit departed. Koya said she would prepare him for his final rest, but that she would wait to bury him until they were back on the road again, as was the practice among Desnans.

____________________________________________________________________________

The following morning, with no other leads to follow, the Scions headed back to the Jade Quarter and the shrine of Shellyn. That was where Uksahkka had told them to meet her after they had rescued Ulf from the funeral barge. The fact that he had not, in fact, been rescued was beside the point. There were few options. Neko accompanied them, having attached himself to Boris, and with nowhere else to go. As they made their way through the crowded streets, they could not fail to notice the ubiquitous ravens that followed them everywhere they went. At one point, Mazael glanced over his shoulder.
"Don't look now," he said, "but I think we picked up a tail. He's been with us for a few blocks now, hanging back and trying to look inconspicuous."
"Don't worry," Boris smiled. "Boris handle this."
"I'll come with you, Master," Neko said excitedly.
"Stop saying that!" Boris snapped. "You no come. Boris very sneaky."
"I can be sneaky too!" Neko hopped up and down. "Please take me with you! Pleeeeaaase!"
Boris sighed and grumbled. "Fine, but if you get Boris in trouble, Boris will be very unhappy."
"Boris," Yannus said, "remember, we don't want to cause a scene. We are trying to go unnoticed."
"Don't worry," the goblin grinned, "nobody see Boris unless Boris want to be seen."

Boris and Neko dropped back through the crowds and made their way around the block, trying to get behind their follower. As they rounded the last corner, they spotted him just a few yards ahead. It was a boy, Tian, not more than a teenager. Boris eased forward, slipping a dagger from his belt as he went. Neko's eyes went wide when he saw it, but he said nothing. When Boris reached the boy, he placed one hand on his shoulder, and pushed the tip of his blade gently against his back. He felt the boy stiffen.
"You be good boy, now," Boris whispered in his ear, "and tell Boris why you following his friends."
"Please," the boy said, fear in his voice. "Don't hurt me! The hooded man...he paid me to follow you and leave notes!"
"What man look like?" Boris asked. "Where you leave notes?"
"I never saw his face!" the boy said. "I swear! He told me to leave the notes under a specific barrel on the docks!"
Boris was silent for a moment, then he withdrew his dagger and put it away.
"Good boy," he said. "Now you do something for Boris. Boris pay you gold to keep putting notes under barrel, but you say Boris and his friends leaving town. Going south to Sandpoint to bury other friend. Ok?"
The boy nodded furiously.
"Boris trust you, boy," the goblin said, "but Boris also know if you not do what you say. Run home now."
He released his grip on the boy, who promptly vanished into the crowd.

___________________________________________________________________________

As they traveled deeper into the Jade Quarter, the Scions passed a blind beggar on a street corner. In and of itself, this was not unusual, as the neighborhood was full of such unfortunates, but as they walked past, he called out.
"They know who you are, and are coming for you!"
Yannus held his hand up for the others to stop.
"What do you mean, old man?" he asked. "Who is coming for us?"
"I do not know," the beggar shrugged. "This is what I was told to say."
"By whom?" Yannus asked. "You're blind. How could you know to whom you were to deliver your message?"
The old man shrugged again. "I was only told to wait for someone who smelled like cabbage. Then I was to deliver that message. He paid me two coppers."
He shook the coins in his bowl for emphasis.
"Cabbage?" Mazael looked confused.
Boris sniffed the air, then turned towards Piotr. He leaned closer and sniffed at the sorcerer's robes.
"Boris smell cabbage," the goblin announced.
Piotr looked skeptical and sniffed under his arms.
"I don't smell anything," he said.
"You no cook," Boris said.
"And you're not blind," the beggar added.
"May I see your coins?" Yannus asked the man
He held his bowl up, and the priest examined the pair of coppers.
"Minkai," Yannus said.

____________________________________________________________________________

Finally, the Scions turned the corner onto the street where Shellyn's shrine lay. Suddenly, the sounds of screams and the crashing of tumbling masonry rolled down the street over the normal noises of the crowd. Ahead, above the press, the shrine slowly swayed and collapsed into the street, dumping the facade of stone and mortared brick on those unfortunates below, resulting another wave of screams of pain and fear. As the companions watched in horror, some...thing stepped out of the wreckage. It was twice the size of a man, and twice as broad, but appeared to be entirely made of earth and stone.

Mazael and Haroldo were in motion as the twangs of Neko's and Lucian's bows sounded from behind them. On the heels of those arrows, streaks of glowing missiles flew from Piotr's hands. When the blood rager and the war priest reached the elemental, they began hammering it from both sides, sending chunks of debris flying in all directions. Suddenly, one pile driver-like fist from the behemoth smashed down on Haroldo, sending the big man staggering back. Yannus was there to take his place, however, stabbing with his glaive. The creature shuddered under the steady barrage, and eventually crumbled. As it fell, however, it abruptly vanished into thin air. Piotr quickly began to scan the area, knowing what this meant: the elemental had been summoned.
"There!" he shouted, pointing towards a nearby rooftop.
The others followed his gaze, and just caught sight of the large, blood-feathered raven as it took flight and disappeared over the roof line.

"We have to find Yin-Po!" Yannus cried as he rushed into the wreckage of the shrine.
It didn't take much searching to find the old priest. He was unconscious, but seemed largely uninjured. Yannus laid his hands upon him, infusing his own divine power. Slowly, Yin-Po's eyes fluttered open.
"What happened here, Master Po?" Yannus asked.
"I...I'm not sure," the old man said, sitting up carefully. "An earth elemental appeared out of nowhere and attacked. I was caught off guard and could not stop it."
"Where is Uksahkka?" Yannus asked.
Yin-Po's eyes grew wide as the younger priest helped him to his feet.
"She...she was in the safe room," he said, "behind the shrine! Come, we must see to her safety!"

All of them rushed into the alley in back of the ruined building. There they found what had obviously been a hidden door, but it had been smashed in from the outside. Within was an empty cellar. There was no sign of violence, but Ukshakka was nowhere to be found. A search of the room revealed only one clue: a large, black feather lying in a corner. It was much too large to be that of a normal raven, or even the large, blood-feathered raven. Another mystery.

"Now what?" Mazael asked. "We've got no sword, no guide, and now no vharki girl."
The others all looked at one another, none of them having a ready answer. Suddenly, all eyes turned to Boris.
"What?" the goblin asked suspiciously. "What you looking at?"
The he felt it. The elaborate Ulfen helmet he'd been wearing ever since he'd found it on the funeral barge was moving. It's wings were flapping, and it rose slowly off his head. It hovered in the air for a moment, and then flapped over to Mazael and settled upon his brow. Then, as if things could not get any stranger, the helmet began to speak.
"Greetings fellow Travellers," it said in a high-pitched, melodic voice. "I am Helgarval. I am an agent of the Desna, a cassisian angel. I was summoned to this plane to serve a powerful priest of my Lady, but my master met an unfortunate end. Since then, I have been attempting to do good deeds while I am stranded here, so that my betters may take notice of me and return me to my home in Elysium. In my years here, I have learned of the presence of a group of evil creatures in Kalsgard known as oni. These beings are part of an organization known as the Five Storms, and their agents here are part of a guild of thieves and assassins known as the Frozen Shadows. In turn, this group hides behind the facade of a powerful trading consortium called the Rimerunner's Guild. The head of this guild is a woman named Thorborg Silverskorr. Her close associate and advisor is a local spellcaster called Goti Runecaster, and he, in turn, has a certain familiar...a blood-feather raven. Do you see?"
"I believe we do," Yannus smiled grimly. "How did you come to be on the funeral barge?"
"I learned that Snorri Stone-Eye was also affiliated with the Rimerunner's Guild," Helgarval replied, "so I stowed away on his ship to try and find more information, but I became trapped there. When your little goblin friend came aboard, I was at first suspicious. When I saw how bravely he fought, however foolish it may have been, I did what I could for him. My divine aura protected him from the draugr, keeping it from killing him outright."
"Talking hat save Boris?" Boris asked, bewildered.
"Indeed," the helm answered, "but I cannot stay with you. This one is also a follower of Desna, and so my path lies with him if he will have me."
Mazael smiled wickedly.
"Welcome aboard, partner!" he laughed.
"Well," Yannus said to his companions, "I suppose we have a guild hall to investigate."
 

JollyDoc

Explorer
Gathering Information

27 Calistril, 4715-1 Pharast, 4715

"Before everybody charge into guild hall, Boris think we need more information," Boris suggested helpfully as the Scions mulled over their next course of action.
"I agree with Master," Neko chimed in, earning him an irritated look from Boris.
"That's actually not a bad idea," Piotr said. "As you know, I have some experience with the merchant clans. I can ask around some of the local shops about this Thorborg Silverskorr."
"And I'm sure there's a tavern somewhere near the Rimerunner's joint," Mazael grinned. "Merchants like to drink, and as luck would have it, so do I. I don't mind staking out a spot near the guild hall, tipping a few pints back, and getting the lay of the land"
Yannus couldn't argue the wisdom in the plan, so he nodded his agreement.
"Very well. Haroldo, Lucian and I will go and resupply in the mean time," he said. "We'll meet back at the inn in a couple of hours. Remember, we are still trying to go unnoticed."

____________________________________________________________________________

The Scions parted and went their separate ways. Neko and Boris decided to continue their investigation in the Jade Quarter. Immigrant populations, in Boris's own experience as one, tended to notice many things while largely going unnoticed by the majority. They didn't find out much more about the Frozen Shadows than Helgarval had already told them. It seemed that the thieves' guild had come to power several years ago, and its members were rumored to have almost supernatural abilities in stealth and assassination. They often left a large black feather as a calling card. No one knew where they were headquartered, however.

As the pair made their way through the crowded streets, a large Ulfen warrior, reeking of ale, bumped rudely into Boris. Acting purely on instinct, Boris's hand went immediately to the big man's belt and snatched off his coin purse. The Ulfen seized the goblin's wrist as it withdrew, however.
"Hah!" he bellowed. "First you poison my dog, and now you try and steal my purse!?"
"What?" Boris asked, genuinely perplexed. "Dog? Boris no kill dog. Dog meat too stringy."
"Liar!" the Ulfen shouted. "The hooded man told me it was you! I demand wereguild! You owe me 50 gold crowns!"
Boris peeked inside the coin purse he still had clutched in has hand. Ten coins lay within.
"Here," Boris offered the purse back. "You take ten crowns. Deal?"
"Those are my own coins!" the big man snarled. "You're a thief and a dog-killer!"
By this time a large crowd had gathered, and parted, forming a circle around the confrontation.
"Look," Boris said placatingly, "Boris already tell you, Boris no kill any dog. Boris offer you coins that Boris find. Still, you no happy, so, Boris only see one way out of this."
The goblin's twin wakizashi's were suddenly in his hands, and he thrust both of them towards the Ulfen's gut. To his shock and amazement, the large man moved with surprising speed and agility, deflecting the blows so that, instead of striking anything vital, they only grazed him. Then, the warrior swung his battleaxe in a broad arc, slashing across Boris's belly.
"Master!" Neko cried.
The varran turned, dropping to all fours and ran towards the nearest building, and then scampering nimbly up the wall. When he reached a wooden support beam, he wrapped his tail around it and hung beneath it, gripping his bow in his hands. He knocked and release, sending an arrow into the Ulfen's backside. The man roared, and Boris took the opportunity to leap away. He darted around a corner, and ducked behind a trash bin, trying to make himself inconspicuous. With Neko out of his reach, the Ulfen warrior charged around the corner after Boris, his eyes darting this way and that. Boris shifted slightly, but it was enough, and his opponents eyes fell upon him. He raised his swords to defend himself, but it was fruitless. The battleaxe fell and Boris went down.
"Master, no!!" Neko shrieked.
His hands moved so fast, they blurred, sending arrow after arrow into the Ulfen, but still the brute stood. He moved to the building, right beneath Neko, drew a handaxe from his belt, and hurled it at the varran. It hit Neko in the thigh, and stuck there, but still he continued to fire, until finally, the big man groaned and collapsed to the ground.

Neko didn't waste any time. He scrambled back to the ground, darted over the Boris, hefted the goblin over one shoulder, and then raced up the side and to the roof of another building. He fished out several healing potions from his pack and forced them down Boris's throat until the goblin's eyes opened and he sputtered.
"Shhh," Neko put one finger to his lips. "Policemen below!"
Boris looked down to the street and saw that several constables had indeed arrived on the scene and were gathered around the body of the Ulfen warrior.
"No," Boris snapped. "Boris earned this! No let cops take away!"

The pair of them climbed back down to street level, and cautiously approached the constables, hands empty and upraised.
"Are you responsible for this?" the head constable asked, drawing his sword and pointing it at Boris.
"No," Boris shook his head. "That man responsible. Boris and friend just defending ourselves. Big man say Boris kill dog, then try to kill Boris. Ask people," he indicated the crowd, "they tell you same."
"We already asked," the constable said, "and they confirm your story, but they also said this man accused you of picking his pocket."
"No, no, no," Boris said as he deftly tossed the stolen purse into a nearby sewer, "this all mistake. Boris no kill dog, and Boris no take money. Big man want Boris's money. Ask for werewolf or something."
"Wereguild," the constable corrected. "Compensation for wrong-doing."
"Oh?" Boris cocked his head. "Then Boris deserve werewolf for big man trying to kill him."
The constable seemed to consider this.
"You are a goblin, correct?" the man asked.
"...yes," Boris answered carefully.
"And don't goblins carry weapons called dog-slicers?" the officer asked.
"That very racist," Boris huffed. "Not all goblins same, just like not all Ulfens have relations with their sisters, like Boris hear. You search Boris. You no find dog-slicer, dog meat, or stolen purse! Now Boris want werewolf!"
"Fine, fine," the constable raised his hands in annoyance, "but this man is dead. What exactly do you want?"
Boris thought about it.
"That nice axe," he pointed out. "Boris take that."

_________________________________________________________________________

A short time later, with a tidy profit from the sale of the battleaxe, Boris and Neko walked into an orphanage located in the Jade Quarter. Having already given half the proceeds to Neko for saving his life, Boris presented the other half, 500 gold crowns, to the astonished headmistress of the facility.
"For little ones," he explained. "You give to them so they no have to take coins from bad men on streets. Tell them gift from Boris."

And this was born the legend of St. Boris, later to become known as Santa, whereupon every 27th of Calistril, gifts were given to children in memory and celebration of selfless charity.

_________________________________________________________________________

The companions regrouped in the common room of their inn in the Bone Quarter later that afternoon. Piotr reported that he had learned that the Rimerunners Guild specialized in trade with Tian Xia over the Crown of the World as well as along the rivers of the Lands of the Linnorm Kings. They were extremely influential in and around Kalsgard, with many local merchants and their retainers, and much of the local economy beholden to them. Thorborg Silverskorr, the leader of the guild, was a merchant of high repute, though she was rarely seen in public. She had numerous connections with the wealthy and powerful of Kalsgard, including Linnorm King Sveinn Blood-Eagle himself.
Mazael gathered from his hours of watching and drinking, that the guild hall was well-guarded, with at least a dozen soldiers patrolling the grounds, and more than twice that in city constables within haling distance.
Then Boris told what he learned, of his and Neko's adventures. He described the altercation with the Ulfen warrior, but left about the part about the man's demise and their run-in with local law enforcement.

The group decided that their next move would be to go to the Rimerunners' hall and see what they could find out, but when they stopped by their rooms upstairs first, however, they found one of the chambers had been completely ransacked. There was no evidence that the room had been forcibly broken into, but a quick search revealed that the window was unlocked, and another large raven feather was found under the detritus. Yannus declared that they were no longer safe at the inn, and could not stay there. The Scions returned to the caravan and told their friends what they had learned, and what happened. Sandru was concerned that their presence with the caravan would attract more attention, but ultimately realized that there was strength in numbers.

_________________________________________________________________________

The Rimerunners guild hall was a fairly nondescript two story structure in the Jade Quarter. Just as Mazael described, several guards patrolled the perimeter of the grounds, and numerous constables were visible within a block as well. The companions approached the front door, where an armed guardsman stood. He looked at them appraisingly, taking note of the numerous weapons that were visible.
"No weapons allowed," he stated flatly.
"We are here to demand wereguild," Yannus spoke up. "Assassins affiliated with your organization have attacked us on several occasions, and we have proof!"
He held up one of the large raven feathers. The guard stared at him.
"You people need to move along before I call the constables," he said.
"We demand to speak with your guildmistress, Thorborg Silverskorr," Yannus persisted.
"Seriously," the guard repeated, "move along. This is your last warning."
"Pardon me, Sir," Piotr stepped in, "but what my companion is trying to say, is that we represent a legitimate business concern whose interests have been jeopardized. We have reason to believe that perhaps one or more rogue members of your guild may be involved. We would very much like to speak with one of your factors to resolve this situation."
The guard turned to regard him.
"Wait here a moment," he said, then turned and entered the building.

Meanwhile, no one had noticed that Boris and Neko had slipped away. The pair made their way around the building to the back, where they found another guard posted at a rear entrance. Hiding behind a large trash bin, Boris tossed a coin towards the far corner. The guard turned, and moved that direction. Quickly, Boris moved to the door and tried the handle. It was locked. He darted back to Neko and motioned him to follow. Quietly and unseen, the returned to the others.

The guard returned a moment later.
"You may enter," he said to Piotr, "but you must go unarmed. You may bring two others with you, but they must be unarmed as well."
Piotr turned to the others, and was not surprised to see to see Boris with his hand up, and Neko grinning beside him. The sorcerer sighed and nodded. Neko dropped his bow and quiver, and Boris unstrapped his wakizashi's, but he did palm a dagger up his sleeve, which nobody noticed.
Once inside, a long counter ran across the front of the main room. Brass bars extended from the counter to the ceiling, with only small teller windows allowing transfer of items. A locked gate blocked access behind the counter. A wooden railing surrounded the elevated floor behind the counter. Several clerks sat in front of the teller windows, while a pair of guild factors sat at desks in the raised area. Two more armed guards occupied the room. The guard escorting Piotr, Boris and Neko moved to the locked gate and opened it with a key, then indicated that they should go through. For a moment, Neko hesitated. The brass bars were too similar to the cages he'd spent much of his life in during his time with the circus. Panic threatened to overwhelm him, but he was determined not to let his master down, so he swallowed hard and followed Boris.

The trio was escorted into a back hall, and then into a small conference room where another guild factor sat scribbling on some forms with a quill pen. When they entered, he looked up at them over the top of his glasses.
"I understand you have some sort of grievance," he said.
Piotr told his tale, leaving out sensitive details regarding their true reasons for being in Kalsgard.
When he was done, the factor regarded him in silence for a long while.
"We are a legitimate and well respected organization," he said at length. "These are serious charges you have levied. I cannot, in good conscience, lend them credence."
Piotr nodded.
"I understand," he said, "you are simply doing your job, and I am certain you have no knowledge of these things. My concern, however, is that you may have unsavory individuals involved in nefarious dealings that seek to besmirch the reputation of your prestigious guild. Is there any way for us to gain an audience with your guildmistress to try and bring this to light?"
The factor considered this again, then leaned forward and spoke in a low voice.
"You did not hear this from me," he said, "but Thorborg Silverskorr purchased an old hall outside of town called Ravenscraeg two years ago from a man named Snorri Stone-Eye."
"Didn't he just recently pass away?" Piotr asked.
"Why yes," the factor nodded. "In fact, his funeral was just yesterday. In any event, the guildmistress has been spending a great deal of the guild's money on refurbishing and developing the building. Nobody knows exactly what's going on there, but based on the funds involved, the secrecy surrounding the project, and her personal involvement, it must be something big for the guild's future! That's really all that I can tell you."
"Thank you," Piotr bowed. "You've been most helpful."

_______________________________________________________________________


It didn't take too long for the Scions to dig up more information about Ravenscraeg. It was indeed the former hall of the Mad Reaver Snorri Stone-Eye, and it was so-named because it lay high among the rocky crags south of Kalsgard, accessible only to the eponymous ravens that roosted atop its ridgepole. It lay two days walk south of the city, in the hills near Grungir Forest.

The companions returned to the caravan to make preparations, and to let Ameiko and the others know what they had discovered. Their friends wished them well, and to travel with caution, but Spivey insisted that they take her along. The little priestess had grown restive being enclosed in the large metropolis for so many days, and she longed to spread her wings and get back on the road. The Scions could not argue that she would be a great asset with her healing skills and divine powers, so no one objected.

The following morning, the set out afoot, leaving Kalsgard behind as they journeyed into the boggy lowlands. As they neared the end of their first day of travel, the trail they followed wound its way through green marsh. Swaying cattails grew thick in a shallow pool beside the muddy path, and tiny colorful flowers dotted the water's surface. Suddenly, Mazael drew back as a piece of the marsh seemingly rose up and struck out at him. It looked like a transparent pseudopod covered in mud and debris. As the others watched in shock, and horror, the entire pool began to rise up, higher and higher, towering over their heads. Boris was the first to act, loosing an arrow into the amorphous blob. The shaft pierced the ooze and traveled straight through it, splitting it neatly in half...and then there were two! Haroldo drew his greatsword and hacked at one of the undulating masses, and cleaved it in two as well, making three of the aberrations.
"Stop hitting it!" Yannus shouted. "It's not working!"
Spivey, flitting about the heads of her companions, held up one hand, and a soft, muted light gathered around it. Then she hurled it at one of the blobs, and when it struck, the ooze recoiled, a large scorch mark on its translucent skin.
Then, one of the oozes lunged towards Neko. The monkey-boy shrieked and scrambled backwards, but one tendril wrapped around his leg and drew him towards the mass, squeezing and burning him. Piotr hurled magic missiles at the blob, sending shivers through it, but still it held on to the struggling varra. In frustration, forgetting Yannus' warning, Mazael swung his sword at the ooze, causing it to split a fourth time. Cursing, Yannus drew a vial of alchemical fire from his pack and threw it at the section of the blob still holding Neko. It struck and burst into flames, and the creature shriveled into black char, setting the monkey-boy free.
Boris, suddenly remembering an unfortunate experience he'd had while wandering through the sewers beneath Sandpoint, called out to the others.
"Hit jelly monster with sticks and clubs, no pointy things! Then it not make more!"
Haroldo took his meaning, and swapped his sword for a flail he kept in his belt, and went to work on the largest remaining ooze. Spivey and Piotr assisted him with their magic. Yannus drew a morningstar and attacked a second ooze, and Neko drew blunted arrows from his quiver and began firing at the last. In short orders, all of the blobs had been destroyed, and silence descended once more over the marsh.

_______________________________________________________________________

By the end of the following day, the companions had reached the foothills. They rose sharply ahead into a steep and craggy shale escarpment hundreds of feet high. Tucked into a narrow defile between two of those crags was a stone-and-timber longhall and tower, weathered and gray. The hall stood nearly one-hundred feet above the base of the cliff, with only a single wooden stair climbing in a series of switchbacks up the cliff face to its front gate. All was silent save for the raucous caws of the ravens that congregated atop the hall's tower and ridgepole high above.

When they reached the base of the crag, the found themselves staring up at a rickety wooden stair built from timber planks, silver with age. In some places above, the stairs and landings were secured directly to the rock face, and in others they hung free upon wooden supports and buttresses driven into the rock. Lichens and moss covered the stairs and rocks, with pale vines, roots, and blooms of nightshade, willowherb, and bog tea sprouting from occasional crevices in the stone. Single file, the Scions began to climb...all save Boris. The little goblin fished around in his pouch and drew out three flaccid bladders. He twisted valves on their necks, and they rapidly inflated, filling with air. He tied a rope around the bunch, then handed the other end of the rope to Neko, who gripped it with his tail. Boris grabbed the rope and let the balloons lift him into the air, where he hovered above Neko, who began scrambling up the rock wall, keeping pace with the others as they climbed the stairs.

By the time they reached the fourth landing, the group was fifty-feet above the ground below. A short flight of stairs rose to the landing, which abutted the cliff face. A small hollow in the rock was plastered over with what looked like a huge wasp nest. Before Mazael, who was in the lead, could step onto the landing, the plaster began to crack and splinter as something huge emerged. The creature was the size of a horse, with the head of a spider, a giant stinger, and two long arms tipped with wickedly sharp pincers. It lunged towards Mazael, but the warpriest met its charge and slashed his falchion across its abdomen at the same time it sank its mandibles into his shoulder. From behind him, Piotr sent magic missiles at the beast, and Spivey invoked her starlight blast, dazzling the creature's multi-faceted eyes. Yannus thrust his glaive over Mazael's shoulder, driving it into the insect's thorax, but still it would not retreat. Rising into the air on its wings, its stinger flashed forward and impaled Mazael's chest. Instantly, he went rigid as every muscle in his body seized up, paralyzed. The giant spider-eater moved in for the kill.

As the battle raged, Boris began to let out the rope attached to his balloons, rising higher above the fray, until he was almost level with the final landing and the gates of the hall. Suddenly, a quick movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He turned and saw several black-clad figures crouched behind the railing of the landing. As he watched in dismay, they raised blow guns to their mouths and sent a volley of darts flying at his balloons.

Mazael saw his death approaching, and he couldn't do a thing about it. He could hear Helgarvarl shouting at him to move, but he couldn't. Then, just as he sent his final prayer to Desna, he felt a soft touch on his shoulder, and a whisper in his ear.
"Not yet, traveller," Spivey said, and at her touch, he was suddenly free again.
The war priest stepped back just as the spider eater struck, and then a flurry of arrows from Neko, and glowing, streaking missiles from Piotr shattered the monster's carapace, and sent it tumbling over the railing.

Just then, a piercing scream drew all eyes upward, where the unmistakable form of a falling goblin grew larger and larger as it dropped towards them. Abruptly, Boris' plummet arrested, and he floated gently down the last few yards, a broken, ceramic leaf in his hands where he'd managed to reach and crack open a magical snap-leaf. The charm simultaneously made him light as a feather, and rendered him temporarily invisible. As he landed softly on the stairs and began to fade from view, he found his breath enough to speak.
"Sneaky ninja-killers waiting for us. Boris think it's on now!"
 

Hammerhead

Explorer
Nice to see another JollyDoc story hour. A triumphant return!

Your last one was Kingmaker, right? That ended with the morally ambiguous female magic user going crazy and betraying her party members? :D
Although I thought you were also playing the explorer one (whose name I cannot remember...Serpent Throne or something?) but that the SH ended before finishing :(.
 

JollyDoc

Explorer
That's exactly right! Good memory! Kingmaker did indeed end with a crazed queen of Kardasia turning on her allies.
I did not finish the Serpent's Throne story hour, to my regret, but Jade Regent has been very exciting...and deadly...so far. I am almost caught up on my posts to where we actually are in the game. Stay tuned for more carnage and fun from the Scions!
 

Hammerhead

Explorer
Well, I was referencing the fact that a lot of your games tend to end with the morally ambiguous female magic user turning on the party. Mandi, Mox, Entropy... :)

Although from my perspective, it kind of seemed that some of the final interparty conflict that happened at the end of Kingmaker was just because the group wanted a challenge. I seem to recall some comments about the time between adventures, combined with PF's 'questionable' magic item creation rules that divorce XP from the crafting process, led to a very powerful, very wealthy group.
 

JollyDoc

Explorer
All of that is true, and we have actually put several house rules in place for Jade Regent. We are not allowing crafting feats. However, I did make the unique magic items that the group found in Brinewall imbued with kamis. These spirits will allow the possessor to make monetary donations to increase the power of the item. So, this makes that suit of +1 plate mail that Mazael found now be able to be enchanted further by him just by sacrificing to the kami. Therefore, it will now become an item he will likely keep with him throughout his adventuring career.
We have also put a limit on how many buff spells an individual can have on them on any given time. It really hasn't come into play yet, but we'll see how it plays out at higher levels
 

JollyDoc

Explorer
The End Of The Song

2 Pharast, 4715

Despite Boris' forewarning, the companions had no choice but to continue up the switchback staircase. Mazael took the lead, with the others following single-file, save for Neko, who continued to scale the wall, and Spivey, who flew along beside him. Boris, still invisible from his snap leaf, brought up the rear. They made it to the final stair, and Mazael had just reached the uppermost landing, when the trap was sprung.

Mazael looked around the landing, but saw no sign of the ninjas...until they seemed to materialize out of thin air all around him. Unlike the human ninjas they had faced aboard Snorri Stone-Eye's funeral barge, these assassins had heads of great, black ravens. They wielded wakizashi swords, and before Mazael could react, one of them slashed at him, opening a wicked wound across his belly. The wound burned, far more than it should have, and the war priest felt a sudden fatigue and weakness suffuse him...poison.

On the lower landing, Lucian, who had just mounted the stairs, heard the commotion coming from above. At that moment, however, another trio of ninjas appeared around him, and he had his hands full. He was struck twice in rapid succession before he managed to leap off the stairs and back onto the landing, putting a few precious feet between himself and his attackers. Then, as quickly as they had appeared, all six of the ninjas vanished again, only to reappear a moment later, surrounding Mazael and Lucian once more, continuing to cut and stab at the two heroes.

"That's enough of that," Piotr muttered from his position midway up the stairs.
He waggled his fingers, and a burst of golden, glittering dust exploded around the three ninjas on the upper landing, causing two of them to claw and rub at their eyes as they were temporarily blinded. Just then, Spivey rose into the air at the opposite side of the upper landing, and seeing the trio of assassins momentarily disoriented, she used Desna's power to set off a concussive blast in the midst of them, stunning all three. Behind her, Neko clambered over the railing, snatched up his bow, and quickly dropped one of the lurching ninjas with a pair of well-placed arrows.

Down below, Lucian popped a snap leaf of his own. He'd learned a thing or two from Boris' impressive ability to survive against long odds. He disappeared and used his moment of respite to tend his wounds. A moment later, another flash of glitterdust filled the area, and now his three assailants stood blind and disoriented. Then Haroldo lumbered down the stairs, his sword swinging in wide arcs. With the tide suddenly turned, Lucian put his bow to use, and between the big blood-rager and himself, the three ninjas didn't last long.

Mazael, though still reeling from the poison in his system, managed to put down one of the still-blind assassins, and then Yannus was behind him, impaling the last one with his glaive. Just as Mazael was about to lose consciousness, Spivey was at his side. She pulled several rolled parchments from her small pack, spoke a prayer as she read them, and then the war-priest felt a wave of rejuvenation flow over him.
"Thank you," he said as he climbed to his feet.
"Travelers must stick together," Spivey smiled.
"Indeed," Helgarvarl agreed from atop Mazael's brow.

___________________________________________________________________________

The gates leading into Ravenscraeg were unlocked. Beyond them lay an enormous long hall, rows of pillars supporting the forty-foot high roof. Torches set into the pillar sconces, and two fire pits set with iron spits in the center of the rush-strewn floor gave the room a ruddy glow. Several doors opened into rooms on either side beneath ten-foot high balconies lined with feasting tables. At the far end of the hall, a fifteen-foot high balcony with master's high table looked out over all. Smoke holes cut into the roof high above allowed in more light, and the croaking of the many ravens that roosted on the roof's ridgepole.
"There is evil here," Helgarvarl announced. "I can sense it."
"Where?" Mazael asked, crouching and looking all around as if he expected to be attacked again at any moment.
"There," the helmet said after a moment. "On the balconies."
"Well, let's not keep them waiting," Yannus said.

The companions turned towards a short flight of stairs that led to one of the balconies, moving carefully, though fully aware that whatever enemies awaited them likely knew of their approach. As Mazael set his foot upon the first riser, however, the air around them suddenly exploded into a cacophony of raucous squawks and the beating of dark wings. From the roof and rafters above, hundreds of ravens descended into the hall, splitting into four large swarms. They surrounded the heroes, wings beating at their heads, beaks digging into flesh, and talons raking at their eyes. Lucian managed to hurl a vial of alchemical fire at the horde just before they struck in full, setting a dozen or so of the birds ablaze, but not stopping the assault.
"I can't see!" Mazael roared, clawing at his eyes, which bled profusely.
Haroldo just bellowed incoherently as his own sight went dim with blood and pain, and vertigo overwhelmed him, leaving him doubled over and retching. Neko became disoriented by the chaos, trying to see in all directions at once as he aimed with his bow, until finally he just gave up and ran for a corner of the room, his hands covering his head. Yannus whirled his glaive around his head, slashing many ravens from the air, but it was like trying kill a swarm of wasps just by waving your hands. It wasn't making a difference. Finally, it was Piotr who managed to give them a little breathing room. The sorcerer turned and touched his thumbs together, fingers spread wide. A cone of fire shot from his fingertips and engulfed the birds, completely consuming two of the swarms.

Haroldo, charging about blindly, inadvertently stumbling up the stairs and onto the balcony, smashing through several tables and chairs before coming to a stop. He leaned over, the nausea leaving him, trying to catch his breath. He sensed something, a prickle on the back of his neck. Though he could not see, he sniffed the air and cocked his head. A faint hint of spice on the air. A soft rustle of cloth. Instinctively, he ducked and pivoted, dodging to one side. He heard and felt blades hiss through the air around him, missing him by only inches. He was surrounded.

As Piotr celebrated his victory, he heard a low whistle behind him, and then felt a sharp pain lance through his back. He reached around, and felt the wooden shaft of an arrow protruding. He turned to see where it had come from, and saw, on the opposite balcony, three black-clad forms kneeling behind the railing, bows in hand. As he watched, one of them loosed a second arrow, and this one found Mazael, still blind and reeling from the raven attack.
"Behind us!" he shouted, but most of his companions were still occupied with the remaining two swarms.

Neko finally managed to regain his composure, and was brought back to sharp reality at Piotr's warning. He saw the ninja archers, human this time, on the balcony above, and his resolve focused. This was something he could shoot back at. Kneeling, he brought up his bow and put an arrow neatly through the shoulder of one of the assassins. Lucian followed the varra's example and put his bow to work against their new attackers as well. Another shaft flew from the balcony, this time finding Yannus. The beleaguered heroes now fought a battle on three fronts.

Mazael swung wildly in the air with his falchion, blood running down his face and into his open mouth.
"You must calm yourself," Helgarvarl advised. "You're going to get yourself, and me, killed this way. Stand still for a moment, and I will clear us a path."
It took all of Mazael's will to comply, but once he had, he felt sudden heat on his brow as Helgarvarl unleashed a small jet of flame from his eye sockets.
"Now," the helm said, "Go that way."
The war-priest obeyed, but the ravens quickly reformed their swarms, this time flying at Piotr.
"No!" the sorcerer shouted as they swept towards him, trying to cover his head.
It was no use. The birds raked at his face, and he felt hot fire shoot through his eyes as the world went dark.

Spivey had so far managed to avoid the bulk of the ravens, zipping about the hall, dodging and weaving as if she were one of them. Finally, she found herself in clear air. She quickly called upon her magic and loosed a soundburst among the flocks, stunning all of the birds, and sending them drifting aimlessly about. Yannus took the oportunity, and swiped his glaive through one of the swarms, slashing all of the birds to pieces. Neko fired again at the ninja he'd struck before, this time taking the man through the throat, and sending him toppling over the balcony. Then he turned and loosed two more arrows into the last of the ravens, skewering all of them like shish-kabobs. Lucian whooped with triumph as he too took down another of the ninjas, but his expression turned to despair as two doors suddenly opened under the balconies on both sides of the room.

One of the doors was right next to Yannus, and when he turned at the sound of it opening, he found himself looking into some sort of bunk room. Standing on the other side of the door were four burly Ulfens dressed in studded leather armor and carrying battleaxes. What captivated Yannus' attention most, however, was what was standing behind them: an enormous brown bear, reared up on its hind legs, and gripping an intimidating great axe in strangely humanoid hands.
"We have a problem over here!" he shouted to his companions.
"I have news for you, my friend," Lucian answered from the other side of the room, "it's not much better over here!"
The door near him also opened onto a dormitory, and emerging from that room were another dozen armed Ulfens.

Thinking quickly, Yannus started moving back, while at the same time using his magic to set off a sonic boom among the new comers. Two of the warriors and, to his immense relief, the great bear reeled and staggered in the wake of the concussion. It was only a brief respite, however, as the other thugs poured into the main hall, quickly surrounding the companions. Mazael was still unable to see, but when an axe blow grazed across his back, he turned, swinging his falchion with all his might, and was rewarded by a solid thunk, followed by a gurgling scream and the sound of a body hitting the floor. Lucian, who still had his bow out, found himself cornered by a quartet of Ulfens, unable to bring his weapon to bear. Though he tried to evade and protect himself, several blows penetrated his defenses, sending him staggering into a wall.

Up on the balcony, Haroldo, still blind, but fighting like a cornered animal, struggled to fend off the ninjas that surrounded him. Suddenly, one of them darted in and, hooking his foot behind the blood-rager's leg, lifted, sending Haroldo crashing to the ground. Immediately, they were upon him, stabbing at him repeatedly with their swords. Snarling in rage, he lurched to his feet, bleeding from multiple wounds. A vicious slash to his Achilles nearly brought him down again, but through sheer will he stayed on his feet. With an inarticulate howl, he swung his massive sword, connecting solidly with one of the ninja, nearly cutting the man in two, then followed through, striking a second one, ending his life as well. He stood there, a bloody, frothing wreck. The last ninja backed slowly away, but Haroldo cocked his head, listening, and then lunged forward, impaling the would-be assassin straight through the chest.

Yannus continued to try and clear some space around him, slashing out with his glaive wherever he saw an opportunity. His luck finally ran out, however, when he backed against one of the pillars supporting the roof and had no more room to maneuver. The thugs came at him from all sides, and as he spun to parry one blow, a second one hit him like a battering ram, nearly severing his spine. He felt himself falling, his breath coming in ragged gasps as consciousness slipped away.

Neko was surrounded, just as Lucian was. The difference was that the nimble monk had trained with a bow for most of his life. Even from a distance of inches, he could bring it to bear, and snapped a shot off a point-blank range, felling one of his opponents. Lucian took a different approach. Using his last snap leaf, he disappeared again. While his foes were momentarily caught off guard, he fished a vial of liquid from his pack and drank it down. He felt himself grow light, lighter even than air, and he rose from the ground, lifting up towards the rafters above. From there, he saw the huge bear-man emerge into the great hall. He saw Neko send an arrow at it, only to bounce off its thick hide.
"It's a shape-changer!" Lucian shouted, recognizing the nature of their foe. "A were-bear! We need silver!"
Shalelu had taught Lucian to prepare for any eventuality. To that end, he had stocked his quiver while in Karlsgard with arrows made from a number of different materials that various creatures of the world might be vulnerable to. Now, he reached behind him and drew forth a shaft tipped with silver. He drew to his cheek and loosed, sending the shaft into the were-bear's shoulder. The brute bellowed in rage and pain.
"Kill that one!" the creature shouted in a guttural voice, pointing up at the now-visible archer.

Mazael flailed about in a blind fury, hacking down another thug by sheer luck and power.
"Hold," Helgarvarl spoke into his ear. "The lyrakian approaches."
Mazael paused and heard the flutter of soft wings coming from directly in front of him.
"It's me," Spivey spoke. "I think I can fix your eyes."
He felt her small hands touch his eyes, and winced in pain, but a moment later his vision cleared, and he saw the direness of their circumstances.
"Thank you," he nodded. "Now get to safety. I've got some killing to do!"
She smiled and flew up again as the war-priest cut down first one, and then another of his foes.

Spivey spied Haroldo atop the balcony and flew towards him. She paused, hovering a safe distance away.
"Haroldo," she called, "it's Spivey. Nod if you can understand me."
After a moment, the blood-rager nodded once, curtly. Spivey flew to him and touched his eyes, healing them as best she could under the circumstances. Haroldo looked around, his vision clearing.
"Hmm," he grunted in approval
He then drew upon the magic that coursed through him only when his blood boiled, and before Spivey's eyes, he grew to twice his normal size.

The three ninjas on the opposite balcony, unable to get clear shots into the raging melee below, scrambled over the railings and down to the floor, joining their allies. They moved towards Mazael, who now found himself facing the were-bear, the crowd of Ulfens parting around them. The shape changer swung his axe, and though Mazael managed to get his sword up to block, the weight of the axe carried it through, and it buried itself in his shoulder. He stumbled back, directly into the waiting blade of a ninja. Mazael's sword dropped from his numb fingers and he slid to the floor.

"No!" Lucian shouted as he put two more silver arrows into the were-bear.
Then, three glowing missiles streaked through the air and struck the lycanthrope. It stumbled back and fell heavily into one of the support pillars, nearly cracking it in two. As it slumped to the floor, it began to change, until a naked human man lay dead on the floor. Lucian turned, looking for the source of his assist, and saw Piotr standing on the balcony stairs, his eyes clear once more, Spivey hovering nearby. Just then, a high-pitched squeal came from the front of the room. Lucian spun that direction, in time to see Neko, a growing pile of thugs at his feet, go down beneath the axe blows of several more. Lucian felt despair creep over him, even as he felled another Ulfen with a well-placed shot.

Only Haroldo, Spivey, Piotr and Lucian still remained to fight. Boris had not been seen since the battle began. The remaining thugs and ninjas began to close ranks. Several of them climbed another stair onto the balcony, closing in on Haroldo, while another contingent rushed towards Piotr. Lucian and Spivey remained safely above the fray, but if their last two companions fell, the battle would be lost. Spivey made a decision. Using her divine power, she channeled holy energy into a radiant burst, sending healing power into her comrades, both standing and fallen. Unfortunately, the energy was indiscriminate, and several of their wounded foes benefited from it as well. It was a necessary sacrifice, and it worked. Across the hall, now ignored by any enemies, Neko blinked and opened his eyes. Assessing the situation, he leaped to his feet and scrambled up a nearby wall to the rafters above.

Piotr breathed a little easier as his wounds began to heal, and he used his strength to call upon his magic again, conjuring a flaming sphere and sending it hurtling towards the onrushing thugs headed towards him. One was bowled over, but another dodged around it and leaped at the sorcerer, wrapping his burly arms around Piotr in a crushing bear hug. The warrior who'd been tripped up by the fire sphere regained his feet and charged, aiming to take Piotr's head while his fellow held the sorcerer still. Suddenly, an arrow sprouted from that man's throat as Neko found a perch high above and put his bow to use. Piotr felt Spivey's healing surge a second time, and his eyes grew wide as he looked over his grappler's shoulder and saw Mazael rise slowly to his feet. The war-priest growled low in his throat as he stalked forward and cleaved the Ulfen holding Piotr from stem to stern.

On the balcony, Haroldo's rage magic rose again, this time causing his arms to elongate freakishly. As the thugs and ninjas charged him, he cut them down in their tracks, none of them getting anywhere near him. One by one, they fell before him, until only one ninja, remained. The assassin gathered his will, preparing to leap at the giant warrior, but before he could, Neko's bowstring twanged and he fell where he stood, an arrow through his heart. Silence finally descended on the great hall, and it was only then that the companions realized that, in the wake of Spivey's healing magic, Yannus had failed to rise...
 

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