JollyDoc's Age of Worms (Updated 11/30, Epilogue!)
Neverwinter Knight
First Post
Hey, no weekend teaser? I thought you had started Dawn of a New Age?
Or did nothing eventful happen?
Or did nothing eventful happen?
Hammerhead
Explorer
Any chance we can see the epic or soon-to-be epic iterations of the League?
Hammerhead said:
Yep. Once we rest again, most of us will hit 21st level.
Monday Afternoon Update
The dust has barely settled from our battle w/ Dragotha and we're just starting to stuff our faces w/ his bountiful treasure when we recieve a sending from Archmage Harpell. *sigh* The League's work is never done . . .
After being brought up to date on the "Dawn of a New Age" we realize we have six days before the poop hits the fan:
Day #1
- Chillax
Day #2
- Teleport around major cities in the Realms, attempting to purchase powerful magic w/ our ill-gotten wealth. Of course, some cities have a small problem w/ Kyuss infestations . . .
- We pay homage to the Tomb of Acerack the Demi-Lich and a certain green-faced demon . . .
- We return to Starmantle and end up in the middle of a riot. We try to "take the power back to the people," but are frustrated in our efforts by genocidal Kyuss Knights. Will we kill them before they butcher the innocent crowd?
- We pay a visit to the Boneyard and are rudely smacked down by a Brood Fiend (*damn fog!!*) in a fight which I'm sure JD enjoyed -- mainly b/c he got to bitch slap Faust real good. :\
Neverwinter Knight
First Post
Well, it's nice to see that the League won't be able to casually 
walk through this module.
walk through this module. A nice story arch, eh? This is why I prefer AoW to the SC adventure path: All the oldschool DnD stuff that makes its reappearance here: Hand of Vecna, Tomb of Horrors, ...gfunk said:
JollyDoc
Explorer
DAWN OF A NEW AGE
The size of Dragotha’s horde was staggering, and the League members were just getting started with it when Hawk heard a familiar voice in his head.
‘This is Malchor. Please return to Longsaddle soonest. Urgent news to relate regarding Kyuss. Time is of the essence.’
‘Isn’t it always,’ Hawk sighed to himself before acknowledging the wizard’s Sending. “I hate to cut our victory celebration short,” he said aloud to his companions, “but the Harpell is calling for us. Something’s up.”
“Really?” Faust said sarcastically. “You mean something besides the destruction of a two-thousand-year-old dracolich, and the impending ascendancy to godhood of his master, aided by a vampiric silver dragon?”
“No, I think that about covers it,” Hawk grinned. “In any event, let’s gather up what we can and get moving.”
________________________________________________________
Malchor Harpell looked haggard, as if he’d not slept in days. He rose to greet his guests as they were ushered into his study.
“Welcome back friends,” he said with a tired smile. “I’ve recently had a visit from an old friend. Balakarde appeared to me a few hours ago. He told me of your victory over Dragotha, and of the release of his own spirit from years of torment. I can’t thank you enough. I’m afraid, however, that your celebration must be short-lived. Starmantle is besieged. Strange clouds of green mist have risen from the ground, engulfing whole city blocks, and undead and immense worms stalk the streets. Worse, the tower that Prince Embuirhan was building has been completed with amazing speed, and a vortex churns in the sky above it. My divinations have revealed to me that Kyuss will soon emerge into our plane, and when he does, the Age of Worms will begin. This new Spire of Long Shadows will serve as a focus for the unholy energies that the Wormgod needs to escape from his prison. His agents have made no attempt to hide this monolith. It rests atop the Spire. This implies to me that they fear no chance of failure.” At this point he paused, and moved towards one of his many paintings, this one of Waterdeep.
“I have also been informed by Khelben Blackstaff that a colossal undead creature infested with green worms has formed from the dust of the avatar of the dead god Myrkul, which formerly littered the sea floor west of Mount Waterdeep. Downstream of the Boareskyr Bridge, a mammoth water elemental, also worm infested, has formed from the waters poisoned by the death of Bhaal. Both of these creatures are leaving wide swaths of death and destruction in their wake.”
“Myrkul…” Giovanni whispered quietly, and then he reached into his haversack and pulled out a black, spiked crown. “We found this in Dragotha’s horde.”
Malchor’s eyes went wide. “The Crown of Horns!” he cried. “This was worn by Myrkul when he still lived!”
“Yes,” Giovanni nodded, “and Grubber and his colleagues encountered a cult devoted to the worship of Bhaal, Myrkul and Bane before I met them. The Ebon Triad was bent on some mad plot to unite the three into an Overgod.”
“And remember the visions,” Faust chimed in. “The ones we had at the Spire of Long Shadows. In each of them, we witnessed a shadowy aspect of Jergal, the Netherese god of the dead. He once held the portfolios of those three deities, and in one of the visions, we witnessed aspects of all three climbing from the ground, dripping with green worms. One by one, they were consumed by the image of Jergal. And don’t forget the final image we saw. Jergal plucking a green worm from his ear and placing it in a jeweled box…the same box given by Mak’ar to Kyuss when he was still mortal.”
“Jergal?” Malchor said, horrified realization etched on his face. “Could all of this be some insane plot by a forgotten god to bring about his own rebirth? If all this is true, then Kyuss is still the key! Now more than ever, he must be stopped!” The wizard began pacing the floor in agitation. “I believe that Kyuss can emerge from his prison for short periods of time already, but I doubt that he can travel far from the monolith. It will only be a matter of time, however, until he is wholly free, and he will not be able to be imprisoned again. Destruction is the only answer.”
“Destroy a god?” Grubber asked, mouth agape. “How do you propose that we do that? Will you aid us?”
“Do not despair,” Malchor said, holding up his hands. “The task is not as impossible as you may think, and you already possess one of the tools which can assist you in it. Do you still hold the talisman?” Giovanni nodded, reaching into his haversack again, and this time pulling out a plain wire loop.
“Excellent!” the mage said, nodding. “I have been doing some research into the nature of the object this was meant to control…a sphere of annihilation. I’m not sure exactly what effect contact with a pocket of pure nothingness would have on a deity, but at the very least, it would weaken Kyuss greatly. Furthermore, I have learned of the location of one such sphere.” He moved to a covered easel in one corner, and drew the sheet aside, revealing a lifelike painting of a green devil face carved into a stone wall. Its mouth gaped open, revealing inky darkness.
“This is a depiction of a carving within the ancient tomb of the demilich Acerak. Within its mouth is the sphere. The tomb lies some eighteen-hundred miles south of here, but with this portrait, you can teleport to its exact location. Do not fear…the lich was destroyed years ago by a young priest of Tyr and a powerful sorceress. I must warn you, though, that you should be circumspect in your use of the sphere. While it would certainly aid you in your efforts against Kyuss’ minions, its presence would also draw much attention. Some of Kyuss’ minions would be capable of destroying it.” Next he moved to an intricately carved cabinet, and opened the doors. “I also return this to you.” He drew out the fragment of the Shattered Scepter of Calim that the League had recovered from Zosiel’s tomb. “It’s uses are limited when not joined to the other pieces, but it may still be of some aid to you. Now, to answer your last question Grubber…I cannot accompany you, but along with several of my kinsmen, I do intend to travel to Starmantle, but on the Ethereal Plane. Once there we intend to erect a powerful dimensional lock. We will be able to maintain it for no more than one week, but while it is in effect Kyuss and his minions will be incapable of escaping the city via teleportation. This is the last gift that I can give you…besides advice. Kyuss’ faithful are still small in number, yet a deity must have followers in order to exist. Once the Age of Worms begins, there will be no shortage of these, but until then, I believe he is drawing upon the fear and despair of the citizens of Starmantle. If you can give hope to these poor souls, you may weaken the Wormgod before confronting him. Also, I mentioned the vortex surrounding the Spire. This is an immense build up of negative energy. It seems to be originating from a point somewhere beneath the Starmantle boneyard. Find this source and destroy it, and Kyuss should be weakened even further.”
For several moments the individual members of the League remained silent, each deep in contemplation of these new revelations. Finally Hawk lifted his head.
“When each of us embarked upon this journey, each for our own reasons, we swore to see it through to its conclusion. If Kyuss is allowed to live, and the Age of Worms to come to pass, then our lives are forfeit. If we are to die any way, let it be in the line of duty, and let no one say we stood by while the world suffered.” One by one his comrades raised their eyes to meet his, and the civilar of Waterdeep saw no sign of weakness or doubt in any of them.
__________________________________________________________
The League members stared about warily. They stood in a dusty, dry hallway. A faded, cracked tile mosaic covered the floor, and strange bas-reliefs adorned the walls. Several doors stood ajar along the length of the corridor, and weak sunlight leaked in from its far end. Before them was the carving depicted in Malchor’s painting. Giovanni positioned himself in front of it, the talisman extended. He could feel a faint pull from the mouth of the devil face, like a magnet tugging at the metal loop. The warlock closed his eyes and concentrated. At first he felt resistance, but then there was a sudden release of tension, and he heard his comrades gasp. Opening his eyes, he saw a perfect sphere of blackness hovering not two feet from him. He could sense the power emanating from it. As he continued to concentrate on the talisman, Faust unfolded a square of black cloth on the floor, until it formed an actual hole…a ten-foot diameter pit. Slowly, Giovanni guided the sphere into the pit, and then Faust hastily folded the extradimensional space closed again. Sighing deeply, and mopping sweat from his brow, Giovanni stowed both the talisman and the portable hole in his robes.
_____________________________________________________________
Starmantle was in chaos. The team had teleported into the middle of the Street of a Dozen Smiles, which ran beside both the temple of Kelemvor and the boneyard. In the distance, they could see mobs of people running down other streets, screaming. Some nearby buildings burned, while others would suddenly shudder and collapse as immense, green worms burrowed up through their foundations. Plumes of foul green fog boiled and churned throughout the city, obscuring entire blocks. There was no sign in the skies above of the once ubiquitous Blessed Angels. The most impressive sight, however, was Embuirhan’s completed Great Project. When last they had seen it, it had been little more than a squat ziggurat. Now, an enormous tower rose from it, stretching over seven-hundred feet into the sky. Dozens of strange pods and balconies lined the edges of the tower, many of which were crumbled and ruined, and in the sky above, the clouds spiraled and churned like muddy water around a drain. Even the light seemed wrong…gray and muted, as if the sun itself were loath to look upon this corner of the world.
As the group took all of this in, the sound of church bells began to ring out across the city. The peels seemed to be coming from the temple of Tempus, which lay only two or three blocks away from their current location. Amazingly, several groups of rioting townsfolk suddenly stopped in their tracks, looking towards the source of the bells. Slowly, in small groups, they began walking in that direction.
‘Something’s up,’ Hawk spoke through the Mindlink. ‘Seems as good a place to start as any.’ The others shrugged and nodded, and Hawk began leading them down the block.
___________________________________________________________
Storm heard the bells as well, and also began making her way towards their source. The drow sorceress had come to Starmantle by a circuitous path. She had indeed returned to her home city of Ched Nassad in the Underdark, only to find it overrun by the spawn of Kyuss. In despair, she had returned to the Wormcrawl Fissure, but could find no sign of her companions. She had instead encountered a lillend named Zulshyn. When the celestial had heard her tale, she told Storm of the League’s victory over Dragotha, but did not know of their destination after they had left. She, however, had become very interested in Kyuss and the coming Age of Worms in the wake of what she had learned from the League. She told Storm that if she wished to find the Wormgod, she should travel to Starmantle. And so here she was, alone in a city gone mad.
She filed into the square before the church of Tempus, along with a couple of hundred other hollow-eyed souls. It was the high priest, Lanthis Chax, who was ringing the temple bells. Storm remembered him from Embuirhan’s party. As her eyes roamed over the crowd, she suddenly spotted two figures that looked distinctly out of place, towering at least two-feet above even the tallest townsman. They were goliaths, and her heart leapt as she recognized them instantly.
________________________________________________________
Grubber didn’t think anything of the elven woman making her way towards him through the crowd until it was obvious that she was heading straight for him.
‘Heads up,’ he warned the others silently.
“Well, well, if it’s not Frick and Frack, the oddest pair of brothers ever to chant a prayer.” She winked playfully, and it was then that Grubber placed her voice.
“Storm??” he asked incredulously. “Is it really you? What are you doing here?”
“It’s a long story,” the sorceress said, “but suffice it to say that you can’t go home again, and you can’t run from your responsibilities. By your presence here, Grim, I’d say you learned the same lesson.” The dwarf simply grunted.
“Welcome back, no matter the reason,” Hawk said, reaching out to embrace the drow he had come to love as a sister.
Their reunion was abruptly interrupted by the voice of Lanthis Chax calling out over the tumult of the crowd.
“Hear me people of Starmantle!” the priest cried. “In this dark hour we must try and remain calm! Panic and chaos will only hasten our deaths at the hands of the evil which has taken our city! Heed my words! The Prince’s madness has unleashed this terrible catastrophe upon us, and we should let him burn in the Hell that he has created! My advice to you all is to leave this doomed city! Leave now, by the Toilway, while it still remains clear of the killing mist!”
Many in the crowd nodded in agreement, and started pushing towards the priest. Suddenly, a second voice rang out from the back of the square. There, several mounted soldiers stood massed around a bald man in black robes. It was Vierias Spatlepate, the high priest of the cathedral of Bane.
“This is heresy!” he shouted. “And you are a traitor, Chax! The Prince himself will soon come to Bane’s House to lead mass and to call upon our Lord to deliver us from these dark times! There will be salvation for those of you who join us there, and there were most assuredly be doom and wrath upon those of you who would so cowardly flee your homes!” The Banites words did not exactly have a calming effect upon the mob. Several of those gathered jeered and shouted him down, and his retinue drew in closer about him. Then, the shrill, intense voice of a woman came from just behind the members of the League. Turning in that direction, they saw Almerah Kosen, the high priestess of Kelemvor, and several of her acolytes.
“There is only one sanctuary from the death which hunts our streets,” she called, “and that is through the Lord of the Dead! Kelemvor offers his protection and sanctuary to those willing to sacrifice to him! Now is no time to be miserly! Only through giving can you be delivered!” Her attendants appeared quite uncomfortable at their mistress’ words, shuffling their feet and casting their eyes at the ground.
More cries and shouts sounded from the crowd, as neighbor argued with neighbor over the merits of each priest’s offer. Soon, the mob began to fragment, with everyone pushing and shoving towards one faction or another. Within moments, tempers flared, and punches were thrown. The mass of humanity threatened to dissolve into violence. Almerah Kosen and her priests began to retreat away from the melee, while Lanthis Chax tried to call for order and calm. Vierias Spatlepate’s men began urging their horses into the crowd, drawing nightsticks from their belts. Just when the situation seemed to be spiraling out of control, a single, powerful voice roared from the steps of the church. Silence fell momentarily on the startled assembly as they searched for the speaker. Hawk stood, Quaero raised in one hand, magnifying his powerful presence.
“Citizens of Starmantle!” he called, his voice calm but resonating. “You are afraid, and rightly so, but know this: your fear only feeds those that prey upon you! Your city is indeed in peril, as the Age of Worms begins on your doorstep, but evil can only prevail when all hope is lost! If you leave now, you give in to your fears, and concede defeat! Defend your homes and families! Fight despair and know that Helm has sent His defenders to your aid! You of the cloth!” he called to the three priests. “Your duty is to help your flocks! Be their shepherds, and tend to their suffering, and know this: it matters not what god you pay homage to, for if Kyuss is allowed to ascend, all will bend to his will! Unite now, for the good of your churches and your followers, or you will all pay the ultimate price!” As the civilar spoke, more and more of the townsfolk moved towards him, drawn by his charismatic words. Even the priests nodded slowly in agreement and acceptance. Then all hell broke loose.
Screams rose from the back of the square, and the people there began surging forward. Entering the square from nearby streets and alleys were a dozen knights dressed from head to toe in dark armor. Small green worms infested their gear, and they bore weapons which seemed to be an amalgam of mace, morningstar, and battleaxe. From within each of their visors, a pair of bloated worms would occasionally protrude, their mouths gaping and filled with razor-like teeth. Kyuss knights. They immediately waded into the crowd, laying about them with their weapons, and several of the people fell beneath their blows. Havok reacted first, erecting an emerald flame wall between two ranks of the knights, trying to stall their advance. He had to be careful, however, of the placement of his barrier, so as not to catch any innocent bystanders. As it was, the eerie green flames, coursing with worms, sent those nearby into blind panic.
‘Grubber!’ Faust mentally shouted. ‘Can you do anything to ward the people? I can dispatch the knights, but my powers are not subtle. There will be collateral damage.’
The goliath understood all to well what the psion meant. Faust was a pyrokineticist. Fire was his stock in trade. Grubber closed his eyes, and began praying to Grumbar, beseeching his patron to grant him a miracle…to protect all two-hundred of the townsfolk from fire. The priest knew that the boon he asked was great, and came with a great price, similar to that which Mak had made in the Tabernacle of Worms. He accepted it readily.
‘Go!’ he said to Faust when the spell was complete. Instantaneously, Faust moved outside the flow of time. One after another, he conjured three walls of fiery energy among the knights, before reentering the time stream. His self-satisfied grin faltered, however, when he saw each of the knights emerge from his barriers completely unscathed. Cursing, he focused his thoughts violently, and tore a conduit into the Positive Energy plane. The nearest four knights received the brunt of the assault, and they reeled from the light that was anathema to them. One of them turned towards the psion, and swung his mace. The blows glanced harmlessly off the élan’s armor, but then one of the worms which had replaced the knight’s eyes darted out, sinking its teeth into Faust’s cheek. Pain ripped through him as he felt his mind being invaded. Hastily he tore himself free and backed away.
Seeing that Faust’s gambit had failed to stop the advance of the knights, Havok tried a different tactic. Lifting the staff he had procured from Dragotha’s horde, he spoke a word of command and the ground began to rumble. Crawling out of the earth, came five, thirty-foot tall creatures of rock and dirt…elementals. As the lumbering giants moved to engage the undead, the warlock unleashed a chain of eldritch energy thru a half-dozen of them. No sooner had the emerald cascade dissipated, than Faust loosed another barrage of positive energy, this time imploding a quartet of the Kyuss knights. He followed this with a thin, green beam which reduced a fifth knight to a pile of ash.
Seven knights still stood, and several of them continued to slaughter innocents wantonly. Over two dozen townspeople were down already. One of the knights turned its attention to the nearest elemental, hammering at the behemoth with devastating blows from its mace. Then it sank both of its worm eyes into the creature, reducing it to the mental capacity of a cockroach. Storm raised her hands to the sky, and thunder rolled through the square as four bolts of lightning lanced from the clouds, striking four knights…to absolutely no effect. Havok struck again with his eldritch chain, while at the same time commanding his elemental slaves to press their assault. Meanwhile, Faust continued doing what was effective. A sixth knight fell to his energy conduit, while a seventh succumbed to a hammer blow of holy power from Grubber. Four of the five remaining seemed intent on causing as much death as possible. A dozen more commoners fell, while the fifth knight engaged another of the elementals, quickly reducing it to a mindless hulk with its horrid eye stalks.
The battle raged on. Storm changed her tactics, lobbing balls of acid at the undead, to great effect. Havok continued blasting away with his eldritch power, while his remaining elementals did what they could to stop the knights in their tracks. Grubber destroyed another with back-to-back holy hammers of righteous might. At one point, Faust seized control of the bodily functions of one of the knight, commanding it to drop its weapon and stand still while Storm hurled acid orbs at it, and Havok’s elementals rained blows upon it. The psion then released the creature, only to destroy it utterly with another disintegration beam. Hawk and Mak moved in close to the remaining knights, hammering at them with their swords. Hawk received a vicious bite from one of his opponents for his trouble. At Havok’s command, the elementals formed a circle around the combatants, and under their mighty fists, another knight fell. The last two fought till the end, but it was only a matter of time before they too succumbed. The square had cleared, with most of the survivors watching from the shadows of nearby buildings. All twelve knights were destroyed, but no fewer than forty townspeople lay dead as well. Hawk turned to Lanthis Chax. “Can you offer shelter to these people? Get them off the streets?” The priest nodded, and under the civilars direction, the citizens began filing into the church. The Banites watched with open contempt before turning and riding away towards their own sanctuary. Hawk approached Almerah Kosen, who still hovered on the fringe of the crowd.
“We intend to go into your cemetery,” he said. “There we will search for a way to destroy the source of that vortex which surrounds the spire.” The priestess shrugged.
“You will find only your own doom,” she said bitterly.
“Then I trust I will see you at the gates of your Lord’s domain, and then we shall see how the worthy are judged.” The old woman’s face flushed in anger, and she spun on her heel, her acolytes following after her.
______________________________________________________
The Starmantle boneyard was completely enveloped in a thick, green fog-like mist. None of the headstones or monuments could be seen from the street. From within the murk came disembodied, inhuman howls and screams…the cries of the dead. Grubber muttered a quiet prayer to himself as his companions peered into the gloom. His body began to shine like a bright, sunny morning, illuminating the fog, though failing to pierce it.
“What are you doing?” Mak snapped. “Do you want to bring every walking corpse in there down on us?”
“On the contrary, little brother,” the older goliath said patiently, “I intend to keep them at bay, or make them pay if they become too curious. The celestial light will burn the flesh from their bones.”
“Well, if we’re going in, we’d best get going,” Faust muttered, eyeing the viridian vapors skeptically.
The mist stank. It reeked of death and attar, and its cloying tendrils threatened to choke the breath out of those who inhaled it. Each of the League members felt their gorge rise at the nauseating stench. Yet they pressed on. The shrieks and wails ebbed and flowed as they progressed, and every now and again, they would come upon a smoking corpse, its skin crisped and burned. Quite abruptly, the screams stopped. It was Havok who first became aware of an oppressive pall in the air…and it was coming closer.
‘Spread out,’ Hawk communicated silently to the others as he too picked up on the danger. Gripping Quaero tightly, he continued forward, while Faust disappeared into the fog to the right, and Storm cast a quick charm of flight upon herself and rose into the mists above. Suddenly, something large loomed out of the shadows directly in front of the civilar. It was an almost headless creature that was a grotesque mix of worm, lizard, bat and ape. It stood on short, clawed hind legs, and had a baggy belly, leathery wings, and boneless, tentacle-like arms which ended in teeth-filled mouths. Between the beast’s shoulders gaped a large, smoking orifice surrounded by a writhing nest of tendrils. Before Hawk could react, a cloud of grayish-brown gas exuded from this hole, quickly enveloping the civilar, as well as the goliath brothers, Grim and Havok. As it touched their skin, it burned like acid, leaving great welts on any exposed flesh. Havok recoiled in agony. The pain was almost unbearable. He quickly spoke a word, and the staff in his left hand glowed for a moment, transforming his body into intangibility, and easing his wounds somewhat. In an instant, he vanished into the ground.
Though too far away from his companions to see them with his eyes, Faust’s telepathic Touchsight showed him everything that was happening. Something about the creature struck him as familiar. Then he had it. It was a broodfiend. He had read about them in the Apostolic Scrolls, though the information on them had been sketchy. They had been created by the avolakia, yet they were not undead. They had features of both demons and constructs. One thing he knew very well…they did not have their fiendish kin’s resistance to fire. A ray of scorching flames lanced out from his hand, pinpointing the creature with deadly accuracy, and burning a fist-sized hole in its chest.
Grubber recovered from the acidic breath of the creature soon after Havok. He took a moment to ward himself, Mak, Grim and Hawk from any further such attack, and then unleashed what was fast-becoming his signature assault…a Hammer of Righteousness. The fiend staggered back a pace, creating just enough of an opening for Hawk to duck inside its defenses. The paladin plunged Quaero into its gut, simultaneously issuing a mental command to the blade. The sword responded with a violent pulse of energy which set the creature reeling, momentarily stunned. In a moment, Mak and Grim were by Hawk’s side, adding the might of their steel to the civilar’s.
Faust saw an opportunity. He charged through the fog, channeling dark power into his hand. He hoped that the fiend had been weakened enough by his companions, so that he would be able to assimilate what remained of its life-force into himself. However, when he was no more than ten feet from the creature, he felt his stomach suddenly clench as a wave of nausea seized him. Falling to his knees, he began to retch and heave violently. At that moment, the broodfiend recovered. A jolt of negative energy passed through its body, and the worst of its wounds began to heal. Then, sensing easy prey, it stalked towards Faust. Each of its worm-like arms struck the psion, and as their teeth sank into his flesh, Faust felt as if his head was going to implode. He could feel his thoughts and knowledge being scrambled like a raw egg. The beast was literally feeding off of his mind. Abruptly, he was buffeted back like a rag-doll by the demon’s wings. Suddenly, time slowed to a crawl around Faust. He had planned long ago for just such a contingency. If ever he were to be gravely injured, his mind would automatically accelerate the time stream for him alone. Using the opportunity, the psion scrambled away to a safe distance, and then manifested a pair of fiery walls of energy in front of and behind the broodfiend. When time returned to its normal pace, the beast found itself burning. Hawk, Grim and Mak struck quickly, just as Havok emerged once more from the earth, alerted to the situation via the Mindlink. Two eldritch blasts later, the broodfiend collapsed into a steaming, gelatinous pool.
The size of Dragotha’s horde was staggering, and the League members were just getting started with it when Hawk heard a familiar voice in his head.
‘This is Malchor. Please return to Longsaddle soonest. Urgent news to relate regarding Kyuss. Time is of the essence.’
‘Isn’t it always,’ Hawk sighed to himself before acknowledging the wizard’s Sending. “I hate to cut our victory celebration short,” he said aloud to his companions, “but the Harpell is calling for us. Something’s up.”
“Really?” Faust said sarcastically. “You mean something besides the destruction of a two-thousand-year-old dracolich, and the impending ascendancy to godhood of his master, aided by a vampiric silver dragon?”
“No, I think that about covers it,” Hawk grinned. “In any event, let’s gather up what we can and get moving.”
________________________________________________________
Malchor Harpell looked haggard, as if he’d not slept in days. He rose to greet his guests as they were ushered into his study.
“Welcome back friends,” he said with a tired smile. “I’ve recently had a visit from an old friend. Balakarde appeared to me a few hours ago. He told me of your victory over Dragotha, and of the release of his own spirit from years of torment. I can’t thank you enough. I’m afraid, however, that your celebration must be short-lived. Starmantle is besieged. Strange clouds of green mist have risen from the ground, engulfing whole city blocks, and undead and immense worms stalk the streets. Worse, the tower that Prince Embuirhan was building has been completed with amazing speed, and a vortex churns in the sky above it. My divinations have revealed to me that Kyuss will soon emerge into our plane, and when he does, the Age of Worms will begin. This new Spire of Long Shadows will serve as a focus for the unholy energies that the Wormgod needs to escape from his prison. His agents have made no attempt to hide this monolith. It rests atop the Spire. This implies to me that they fear no chance of failure.” At this point he paused, and moved towards one of his many paintings, this one of Waterdeep.
“I have also been informed by Khelben Blackstaff that a colossal undead creature infested with green worms has formed from the dust of the avatar of the dead god Myrkul, which formerly littered the sea floor west of Mount Waterdeep. Downstream of the Boareskyr Bridge, a mammoth water elemental, also worm infested, has formed from the waters poisoned by the death of Bhaal. Both of these creatures are leaving wide swaths of death and destruction in their wake.”
“Myrkul…” Giovanni whispered quietly, and then he reached into his haversack and pulled out a black, spiked crown. “We found this in Dragotha’s horde.”
Malchor’s eyes went wide. “The Crown of Horns!” he cried. “This was worn by Myrkul when he still lived!”
“Yes,” Giovanni nodded, “and Grubber and his colleagues encountered a cult devoted to the worship of Bhaal, Myrkul and Bane before I met them. The Ebon Triad was bent on some mad plot to unite the three into an Overgod.”
“And remember the visions,” Faust chimed in. “The ones we had at the Spire of Long Shadows. In each of them, we witnessed a shadowy aspect of Jergal, the Netherese god of the dead. He once held the portfolios of those three deities, and in one of the visions, we witnessed aspects of all three climbing from the ground, dripping with green worms. One by one, they were consumed by the image of Jergal. And don’t forget the final image we saw. Jergal plucking a green worm from his ear and placing it in a jeweled box…the same box given by Mak’ar to Kyuss when he was still mortal.”
“Jergal?” Malchor said, horrified realization etched on his face. “Could all of this be some insane plot by a forgotten god to bring about his own rebirth? If all this is true, then Kyuss is still the key! Now more than ever, he must be stopped!” The wizard began pacing the floor in agitation. “I believe that Kyuss can emerge from his prison for short periods of time already, but I doubt that he can travel far from the monolith. It will only be a matter of time, however, until he is wholly free, and he will not be able to be imprisoned again. Destruction is the only answer.”
“Destroy a god?” Grubber asked, mouth agape. “How do you propose that we do that? Will you aid us?”
“Do not despair,” Malchor said, holding up his hands. “The task is not as impossible as you may think, and you already possess one of the tools which can assist you in it. Do you still hold the talisman?” Giovanni nodded, reaching into his haversack again, and this time pulling out a plain wire loop.
“Excellent!” the mage said, nodding. “I have been doing some research into the nature of the object this was meant to control…a sphere of annihilation. I’m not sure exactly what effect contact with a pocket of pure nothingness would have on a deity, but at the very least, it would weaken Kyuss greatly. Furthermore, I have learned of the location of one such sphere.” He moved to a covered easel in one corner, and drew the sheet aside, revealing a lifelike painting of a green devil face carved into a stone wall. Its mouth gaped open, revealing inky darkness.
“This is a depiction of a carving within the ancient tomb of the demilich Acerak. Within its mouth is the sphere. The tomb lies some eighteen-hundred miles south of here, but with this portrait, you can teleport to its exact location. Do not fear…the lich was destroyed years ago by a young priest of Tyr and a powerful sorceress. I must warn you, though, that you should be circumspect in your use of the sphere. While it would certainly aid you in your efforts against Kyuss’ minions, its presence would also draw much attention. Some of Kyuss’ minions would be capable of destroying it.” Next he moved to an intricately carved cabinet, and opened the doors. “I also return this to you.” He drew out the fragment of the Shattered Scepter of Calim that the League had recovered from Zosiel’s tomb. “It’s uses are limited when not joined to the other pieces, but it may still be of some aid to you. Now, to answer your last question Grubber…I cannot accompany you, but along with several of my kinsmen, I do intend to travel to Starmantle, but on the Ethereal Plane. Once there we intend to erect a powerful dimensional lock. We will be able to maintain it for no more than one week, but while it is in effect Kyuss and his minions will be incapable of escaping the city via teleportation. This is the last gift that I can give you…besides advice. Kyuss’ faithful are still small in number, yet a deity must have followers in order to exist. Once the Age of Worms begins, there will be no shortage of these, but until then, I believe he is drawing upon the fear and despair of the citizens of Starmantle. If you can give hope to these poor souls, you may weaken the Wormgod before confronting him. Also, I mentioned the vortex surrounding the Spire. This is an immense build up of negative energy. It seems to be originating from a point somewhere beneath the Starmantle boneyard. Find this source and destroy it, and Kyuss should be weakened even further.”
For several moments the individual members of the League remained silent, each deep in contemplation of these new revelations. Finally Hawk lifted his head.
“When each of us embarked upon this journey, each for our own reasons, we swore to see it through to its conclusion. If Kyuss is allowed to live, and the Age of Worms to come to pass, then our lives are forfeit. If we are to die any way, let it be in the line of duty, and let no one say we stood by while the world suffered.” One by one his comrades raised their eyes to meet his, and the civilar of Waterdeep saw no sign of weakness or doubt in any of them.
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The League members stared about warily. They stood in a dusty, dry hallway. A faded, cracked tile mosaic covered the floor, and strange bas-reliefs adorned the walls. Several doors stood ajar along the length of the corridor, and weak sunlight leaked in from its far end. Before them was the carving depicted in Malchor’s painting. Giovanni positioned himself in front of it, the talisman extended. He could feel a faint pull from the mouth of the devil face, like a magnet tugging at the metal loop. The warlock closed his eyes and concentrated. At first he felt resistance, but then there was a sudden release of tension, and he heard his comrades gasp. Opening his eyes, he saw a perfect sphere of blackness hovering not two feet from him. He could sense the power emanating from it. As he continued to concentrate on the talisman, Faust unfolded a square of black cloth on the floor, until it formed an actual hole…a ten-foot diameter pit. Slowly, Giovanni guided the sphere into the pit, and then Faust hastily folded the extradimensional space closed again. Sighing deeply, and mopping sweat from his brow, Giovanni stowed both the talisman and the portable hole in his robes.
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Starmantle was in chaos. The team had teleported into the middle of the Street of a Dozen Smiles, which ran beside both the temple of Kelemvor and the boneyard. In the distance, they could see mobs of people running down other streets, screaming. Some nearby buildings burned, while others would suddenly shudder and collapse as immense, green worms burrowed up through their foundations. Plumes of foul green fog boiled and churned throughout the city, obscuring entire blocks. There was no sign in the skies above of the once ubiquitous Blessed Angels. The most impressive sight, however, was Embuirhan’s completed Great Project. When last they had seen it, it had been little more than a squat ziggurat. Now, an enormous tower rose from it, stretching over seven-hundred feet into the sky. Dozens of strange pods and balconies lined the edges of the tower, many of which were crumbled and ruined, and in the sky above, the clouds spiraled and churned like muddy water around a drain. Even the light seemed wrong…gray and muted, as if the sun itself were loath to look upon this corner of the world.
As the group took all of this in, the sound of church bells began to ring out across the city. The peels seemed to be coming from the temple of Tempus, which lay only two or three blocks away from their current location. Amazingly, several groups of rioting townsfolk suddenly stopped in their tracks, looking towards the source of the bells. Slowly, in small groups, they began walking in that direction.
‘Something’s up,’ Hawk spoke through the Mindlink. ‘Seems as good a place to start as any.’ The others shrugged and nodded, and Hawk began leading them down the block.
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Storm heard the bells as well, and also began making her way towards their source. The drow sorceress had come to Starmantle by a circuitous path. She had indeed returned to her home city of Ched Nassad in the Underdark, only to find it overrun by the spawn of Kyuss. In despair, she had returned to the Wormcrawl Fissure, but could find no sign of her companions. She had instead encountered a lillend named Zulshyn. When the celestial had heard her tale, she told Storm of the League’s victory over Dragotha, but did not know of their destination after they had left. She, however, had become very interested in Kyuss and the coming Age of Worms in the wake of what she had learned from the League. She told Storm that if she wished to find the Wormgod, she should travel to Starmantle. And so here she was, alone in a city gone mad.
She filed into the square before the church of Tempus, along with a couple of hundred other hollow-eyed souls. It was the high priest, Lanthis Chax, who was ringing the temple bells. Storm remembered him from Embuirhan’s party. As her eyes roamed over the crowd, she suddenly spotted two figures that looked distinctly out of place, towering at least two-feet above even the tallest townsman. They were goliaths, and her heart leapt as she recognized them instantly.
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Grubber didn’t think anything of the elven woman making her way towards him through the crowd until it was obvious that she was heading straight for him.
‘Heads up,’ he warned the others silently.
“Well, well, if it’s not Frick and Frack, the oddest pair of brothers ever to chant a prayer.” She winked playfully, and it was then that Grubber placed her voice.
“Storm??” he asked incredulously. “Is it really you? What are you doing here?”
“It’s a long story,” the sorceress said, “but suffice it to say that you can’t go home again, and you can’t run from your responsibilities. By your presence here, Grim, I’d say you learned the same lesson.” The dwarf simply grunted.
“Welcome back, no matter the reason,” Hawk said, reaching out to embrace the drow he had come to love as a sister.
Their reunion was abruptly interrupted by the voice of Lanthis Chax calling out over the tumult of the crowd.
“Hear me people of Starmantle!” the priest cried. “In this dark hour we must try and remain calm! Panic and chaos will only hasten our deaths at the hands of the evil which has taken our city! Heed my words! The Prince’s madness has unleashed this terrible catastrophe upon us, and we should let him burn in the Hell that he has created! My advice to you all is to leave this doomed city! Leave now, by the Toilway, while it still remains clear of the killing mist!”
Many in the crowd nodded in agreement, and started pushing towards the priest. Suddenly, a second voice rang out from the back of the square. There, several mounted soldiers stood massed around a bald man in black robes. It was Vierias Spatlepate, the high priest of the cathedral of Bane.
“This is heresy!” he shouted. “And you are a traitor, Chax! The Prince himself will soon come to Bane’s House to lead mass and to call upon our Lord to deliver us from these dark times! There will be salvation for those of you who join us there, and there were most assuredly be doom and wrath upon those of you who would so cowardly flee your homes!” The Banites words did not exactly have a calming effect upon the mob. Several of those gathered jeered and shouted him down, and his retinue drew in closer about him. Then, the shrill, intense voice of a woman came from just behind the members of the League. Turning in that direction, they saw Almerah Kosen, the high priestess of Kelemvor, and several of her acolytes.
“There is only one sanctuary from the death which hunts our streets,” she called, “and that is through the Lord of the Dead! Kelemvor offers his protection and sanctuary to those willing to sacrifice to him! Now is no time to be miserly! Only through giving can you be delivered!” Her attendants appeared quite uncomfortable at their mistress’ words, shuffling their feet and casting their eyes at the ground.
More cries and shouts sounded from the crowd, as neighbor argued with neighbor over the merits of each priest’s offer. Soon, the mob began to fragment, with everyone pushing and shoving towards one faction or another. Within moments, tempers flared, and punches were thrown. The mass of humanity threatened to dissolve into violence. Almerah Kosen and her priests began to retreat away from the melee, while Lanthis Chax tried to call for order and calm. Vierias Spatlepate’s men began urging their horses into the crowd, drawing nightsticks from their belts. Just when the situation seemed to be spiraling out of control, a single, powerful voice roared from the steps of the church. Silence fell momentarily on the startled assembly as they searched for the speaker. Hawk stood, Quaero raised in one hand, magnifying his powerful presence.
“Citizens of Starmantle!” he called, his voice calm but resonating. “You are afraid, and rightly so, but know this: your fear only feeds those that prey upon you! Your city is indeed in peril, as the Age of Worms begins on your doorstep, but evil can only prevail when all hope is lost! If you leave now, you give in to your fears, and concede defeat! Defend your homes and families! Fight despair and know that Helm has sent His defenders to your aid! You of the cloth!” he called to the three priests. “Your duty is to help your flocks! Be their shepherds, and tend to their suffering, and know this: it matters not what god you pay homage to, for if Kyuss is allowed to ascend, all will bend to his will! Unite now, for the good of your churches and your followers, or you will all pay the ultimate price!” As the civilar spoke, more and more of the townsfolk moved towards him, drawn by his charismatic words. Even the priests nodded slowly in agreement and acceptance. Then all hell broke loose.
Screams rose from the back of the square, and the people there began surging forward. Entering the square from nearby streets and alleys were a dozen knights dressed from head to toe in dark armor. Small green worms infested their gear, and they bore weapons which seemed to be an amalgam of mace, morningstar, and battleaxe. From within each of their visors, a pair of bloated worms would occasionally protrude, their mouths gaping and filled with razor-like teeth. Kyuss knights. They immediately waded into the crowd, laying about them with their weapons, and several of the people fell beneath their blows. Havok reacted first, erecting an emerald flame wall between two ranks of the knights, trying to stall their advance. He had to be careful, however, of the placement of his barrier, so as not to catch any innocent bystanders. As it was, the eerie green flames, coursing with worms, sent those nearby into blind panic.
‘Grubber!’ Faust mentally shouted. ‘Can you do anything to ward the people? I can dispatch the knights, but my powers are not subtle. There will be collateral damage.’
The goliath understood all to well what the psion meant. Faust was a pyrokineticist. Fire was his stock in trade. Grubber closed his eyes, and began praying to Grumbar, beseeching his patron to grant him a miracle…to protect all two-hundred of the townsfolk from fire. The priest knew that the boon he asked was great, and came with a great price, similar to that which Mak had made in the Tabernacle of Worms. He accepted it readily.
‘Go!’ he said to Faust when the spell was complete. Instantaneously, Faust moved outside the flow of time. One after another, he conjured three walls of fiery energy among the knights, before reentering the time stream. His self-satisfied grin faltered, however, when he saw each of the knights emerge from his barriers completely unscathed. Cursing, he focused his thoughts violently, and tore a conduit into the Positive Energy plane. The nearest four knights received the brunt of the assault, and they reeled from the light that was anathema to them. One of them turned towards the psion, and swung his mace. The blows glanced harmlessly off the élan’s armor, but then one of the worms which had replaced the knight’s eyes darted out, sinking its teeth into Faust’s cheek. Pain ripped through him as he felt his mind being invaded. Hastily he tore himself free and backed away.
Seeing that Faust’s gambit had failed to stop the advance of the knights, Havok tried a different tactic. Lifting the staff he had procured from Dragotha’s horde, he spoke a word of command and the ground began to rumble. Crawling out of the earth, came five, thirty-foot tall creatures of rock and dirt…elementals. As the lumbering giants moved to engage the undead, the warlock unleashed a chain of eldritch energy thru a half-dozen of them. No sooner had the emerald cascade dissipated, than Faust loosed another barrage of positive energy, this time imploding a quartet of the Kyuss knights. He followed this with a thin, green beam which reduced a fifth knight to a pile of ash.
Seven knights still stood, and several of them continued to slaughter innocents wantonly. Over two dozen townspeople were down already. One of the knights turned its attention to the nearest elemental, hammering at the behemoth with devastating blows from its mace. Then it sank both of its worm eyes into the creature, reducing it to the mental capacity of a cockroach. Storm raised her hands to the sky, and thunder rolled through the square as four bolts of lightning lanced from the clouds, striking four knights…to absolutely no effect. Havok struck again with his eldritch chain, while at the same time commanding his elemental slaves to press their assault. Meanwhile, Faust continued doing what was effective. A sixth knight fell to his energy conduit, while a seventh succumbed to a hammer blow of holy power from Grubber. Four of the five remaining seemed intent on causing as much death as possible. A dozen more commoners fell, while the fifth knight engaged another of the elementals, quickly reducing it to a mindless hulk with its horrid eye stalks.
The battle raged on. Storm changed her tactics, lobbing balls of acid at the undead, to great effect. Havok continued blasting away with his eldritch power, while his remaining elementals did what they could to stop the knights in their tracks. Grubber destroyed another with back-to-back holy hammers of righteous might. At one point, Faust seized control of the bodily functions of one of the knight, commanding it to drop its weapon and stand still while Storm hurled acid orbs at it, and Havok’s elementals rained blows upon it. The psion then released the creature, only to destroy it utterly with another disintegration beam. Hawk and Mak moved in close to the remaining knights, hammering at them with their swords. Hawk received a vicious bite from one of his opponents for his trouble. At Havok’s command, the elementals formed a circle around the combatants, and under their mighty fists, another knight fell. The last two fought till the end, but it was only a matter of time before they too succumbed. The square had cleared, with most of the survivors watching from the shadows of nearby buildings. All twelve knights were destroyed, but no fewer than forty townspeople lay dead as well. Hawk turned to Lanthis Chax. “Can you offer shelter to these people? Get them off the streets?” The priest nodded, and under the civilars direction, the citizens began filing into the church. The Banites watched with open contempt before turning and riding away towards their own sanctuary. Hawk approached Almerah Kosen, who still hovered on the fringe of the crowd.
“We intend to go into your cemetery,” he said. “There we will search for a way to destroy the source of that vortex which surrounds the spire.” The priestess shrugged.
“You will find only your own doom,” she said bitterly.
“Then I trust I will see you at the gates of your Lord’s domain, and then we shall see how the worthy are judged.” The old woman’s face flushed in anger, and she spun on her heel, her acolytes following after her.
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The Starmantle boneyard was completely enveloped in a thick, green fog-like mist. None of the headstones or monuments could be seen from the street. From within the murk came disembodied, inhuman howls and screams…the cries of the dead. Grubber muttered a quiet prayer to himself as his companions peered into the gloom. His body began to shine like a bright, sunny morning, illuminating the fog, though failing to pierce it.
“What are you doing?” Mak snapped. “Do you want to bring every walking corpse in there down on us?”
“On the contrary, little brother,” the older goliath said patiently, “I intend to keep them at bay, or make them pay if they become too curious. The celestial light will burn the flesh from their bones.”
“Well, if we’re going in, we’d best get going,” Faust muttered, eyeing the viridian vapors skeptically.
The mist stank. It reeked of death and attar, and its cloying tendrils threatened to choke the breath out of those who inhaled it. Each of the League members felt their gorge rise at the nauseating stench. Yet they pressed on. The shrieks and wails ebbed and flowed as they progressed, and every now and again, they would come upon a smoking corpse, its skin crisped and burned. Quite abruptly, the screams stopped. It was Havok who first became aware of an oppressive pall in the air…and it was coming closer.
‘Spread out,’ Hawk communicated silently to the others as he too picked up on the danger. Gripping Quaero tightly, he continued forward, while Faust disappeared into the fog to the right, and Storm cast a quick charm of flight upon herself and rose into the mists above. Suddenly, something large loomed out of the shadows directly in front of the civilar. It was an almost headless creature that was a grotesque mix of worm, lizard, bat and ape. It stood on short, clawed hind legs, and had a baggy belly, leathery wings, and boneless, tentacle-like arms which ended in teeth-filled mouths. Between the beast’s shoulders gaped a large, smoking orifice surrounded by a writhing nest of tendrils. Before Hawk could react, a cloud of grayish-brown gas exuded from this hole, quickly enveloping the civilar, as well as the goliath brothers, Grim and Havok. As it touched their skin, it burned like acid, leaving great welts on any exposed flesh. Havok recoiled in agony. The pain was almost unbearable. He quickly spoke a word, and the staff in his left hand glowed for a moment, transforming his body into intangibility, and easing his wounds somewhat. In an instant, he vanished into the ground.
Though too far away from his companions to see them with his eyes, Faust’s telepathic Touchsight showed him everything that was happening. Something about the creature struck him as familiar. Then he had it. It was a broodfiend. He had read about them in the Apostolic Scrolls, though the information on them had been sketchy. They had been created by the avolakia, yet they were not undead. They had features of both demons and constructs. One thing he knew very well…they did not have their fiendish kin’s resistance to fire. A ray of scorching flames lanced out from his hand, pinpointing the creature with deadly accuracy, and burning a fist-sized hole in its chest.
Grubber recovered from the acidic breath of the creature soon after Havok. He took a moment to ward himself, Mak, Grim and Hawk from any further such attack, and then unleashed what was fast-becoming his signature assault…a Hammer of Righteousness. The fiend staggered back a pace, creating just enough of an opening for Hawk to duck inside its defenses. The paladin plunged Quaero into its gut, simultaneously issuing a mental command to the blade. The sword responded with a violent pulse of energy which set the creature reeling, momentarily stunned. In a moment, Mak and Grim were by Hawk’s side, adding the might of their steel to the civilar’s.
Faust saw an opportunity. He charged through the fog, channeling dark power into his hand. He hoped that the fiend had been weakened enough by his companions, so that he would be able to assimilate what remained of its life-force into himself. However, when he was no more than ten feet from the creature, he felt his stomach suddenly clench as a wave of nausea seized him. Falling to his knees, he began to retch and heave violently. At that moment, the broodfiend recovered. A jolt of negative energy passed through its body, and the worst of its wounds began to heal. Then, sensing easy prey, it stalked towards Faust. Each of its worm-like arms struck the psion, and as their teeth sank into his flesh, Faust felt as if his head was going to implode. He could feel his thoughts and knowledge being scrambled like a raw egg. The beast was literally feeding off of his mind. Abruptly, he was buffeted back like a rag-doll by the demon’s wings. Suddenly, time slowed to a crawl around Faust. He had planned long ago for just such a contingency. If ever he were to be gravely injured, his mind would automatically accelerate the time stream for him alone. Using the opportunity, the psion scrambled away to a safe distance, and then manifested a pair of fiery walls of energy in front of and behind the broodfiend. When time returned to its normal pace, the beast found itself burning. Hawk, Grim and Mak struck quickly, just as Havok emerged once more from the earth, alerted to the situation via the Mindlink. Two eldritch blasts later, the broodfiend collapsed into a steaming, gelatinous pool.
Neverwinter Knight
First Post
Good start into Dawn of a new Age! Protecting the innocent missions like that can be quite frustrating, although I think the group did OK.
Did the group realize that the new Storm is Entropy? And why is she not affected by Celestial Brilliance, this time?
![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
Did the group realize that the new Storm is Entropy? And why is she not affected by Celestial Brilliance, this time?
demiurge1138
Inventor of Super-Toast
Nah, they've fallen for that one before. Entropy's Lashonna this time aroundNeverwinter Knight said:Good start into Dawn of a new Age! Protecting the innocent missions like that can be quite frustrating, although I think the group did OK.
Did the group realize that the new Storm is Entropy? And why is she not affected by Celestial Brilliance, this time?
Demiurge out.
