Shilsen's Eberron SH (Wherein is the feel of Purple : 11/12/09)

[shilsen]

Originally Posted by Sidekick

Well I’ll chip in with a comment. This is one heckuvva campaign!

Thanks. It's definitely the best one I've got to run. Then again, it's only the fourth one I've run, and so far each has been better than the last, so maybe I'll top it next time.

The PCs are all really good, Korm seems to be a very good addition/replacement to the group.

I like that the leadership is a bickering odd-couple of a morally challenged Alienist and a very mercantile paladin of the SF.

And that's obviously a big part of it. I have a pretty good set of players. Strangely, none of us knew each other earlier, with only Six's and Nameless's players having gamed together before, and were all (except Luna's player) recruited for another campaign through ENWorld. That one folded up and I took over, and the group's remained the same ever since, with the addition of Luna, whose player also found us through ENWorld shortly after my game began. Thus far, with this and a couple of other groups, I've had really good luck gaming with people I didn't know beforehand. I figure the karmic scales have a really horrifying experience waiting for me in the future to make up.

Also, Shil I just have to say that this whole arc is very, very well done. The Rhakshassa’s, their use of the prophesy to shadow the PCs & obtain the key from them.

It actually came very close to not happening. Since I've told my players and am quite serious about the fact that the PCs get to do whatever hey do, the campaign could have gone many different ways. The rakshasas (or, more precisely, the white-furred leader) did have a few different hopes for the Angels, with the Xen'drik thing being one possibility. Incidentally, he didn't actually know that the Key was there, but rather that something had happened there with the dragons. The idea was for the Angels to investigate and bring back information, and maybe items, that he could exploit. The fact that they returned with the Key was a huge bonus.

That event, as well as what they were doing with it, also made him step out of the shadows and actually go after it, revealing himself to them much faster than he'd planned. Which worked out well for the Angels in some ways, since he didn't get to plan and obtain as many resources as he could have. That's why he sacrificed poor Desro, who got played for a patsy. He never knew that the rakshasas planned to 'lose' and let the Angels get that magical dragonshard, so that they could follow them to the Shadow Marches.

It’s all the kind of stuff that makes me want to play in your group.

Shame that’ll never happen, oh well.

Never say never. Stranger things have happened.

Oh and hey, tell your group that I think their trash talking was A+ level. I’ve never read nor seen anything quite like that.

Very good way to unsettle the BBEG…

Will do. I was definitely very impressed. Whatever else they can't do, they sure can talk to powerful enemies in ways that really confuse them.

[AviLazar]

Originally Posted by Sidekick

Shame that’ll never happen, oh well.

Aww, come on, you need to have come up with the "I have a webcam can I play Bodo?" suggestion

Anyhow....thanks for the comments...I agree with your comments. On a side-note, Gareth's mercantile (and bit greedy nature) comes from my personal nature. I had a different character, same group different campaign, that was a fighter/rogue who was raised in a merchant family.....I played him to the "t"....I played me with swords Though a lot of times the initial jump to greed is subdued after a minute, but it still gets reported in Shil's ledger

Again, thanks for the comments.

[Sidekick]

AviLazar - I think that Gareth is a top class paladin.

You should have seen my first (& only) attempt at playing a paladin. Sure he was the leader and sure he helped people, but I played him SOO CG (me).

I still don't know how he got away with not being fallen. I guess we were all having too muuch fun for all that...

[Sidekick]

Bump???

[Rackhir]

Originally Posted by Sidekick

Bump???

What no justice any more? Dont worry you'll soon learn the horrible truth behind certain fairy tales and why you shouldn't leave shiny objects around Druids.

[shilsen]

Originally Posted by Rackhir

What no justice any more? Dont worry you'll soon learn the horrible truth behind certain fairy tales and why you shouldn't leave shiny objects around Druids.

What he said. We had a fun session yesterday, with some pretty good lines being exchanged, interesting NPCs met, and one of the more memorable enemies fought thus far.

I'm a little busy with work, but I should have an update up in a few days. We're not actually going to be able to play again until the weekend after Thanksgiving, since we're coming up on a climactic point and that's the first time we'll be able to have all players there (hopefully), so I may spread things out a bit.

[Sidekick]

Normally there's justice involved, but hey it was a sunday. With monday right around the corner justice isn't excatly a friend of mine (if there were any justice on Sundays monday would be a weekend day as well).

But now its monday....

BUMP FOR JUSTICE, TRUTH AND SMACK-TALKING!!

[shilsen]

A little late, but here it is. Next one will be sometime next week.

*****
After trying a couple of spells and discovering that they do nothing to remove the effects of the sickness, or Taint, that they are suffering, the Angels discuss what to do next.

“We might as well head down to the village and see what we find, right?” Luna asks.

Nameless frowns. “Why exactly are we going there? I really doubt the rakshasas are there, so we’d just be wasting our time. If those people down there serve them, they’ll either attack us or give them information about us.”

“But what other option do we have?” asks Korm. “I can still feel a link to the Key, but it’s really vague right now, so I doubt we’d know if we were right next to it. Wandering around the Wastes hoping to bump into those rakshasas isn’t likely to help.”

“And if we get close to those people, I may be able to get some information off their minds,” puts in Gareth.

Six rubs at his now strangely slick exterior and says, “Plus they don’t seem ill to Luna. Maybe they have a cure for this Taint thing. Maybe those stones are some kind of a warding thing.” He adds, a trifle irritably, “All of you people’s magic doesn’t seem to be able to stop it, after all.”

Nameless’s frown only deepens, but he says, “Fine. But first let’s try to find out as much about the area around us. Maybe that’ll give us another lead. Korm, Luna – could one of you try to commune with nature?”

Korm says, “All right. I’ll do it.” He looks around at the Wastes and rubs his forehead. “Though I’m not sure how much actual nature there is around here.” He settles down and begins to cast the spell, gradually sending his senses out into the land around him over the next ten minutes. There is an initial feeling of emptiness, followed by the sensation of pushing at a barrier, almost as if the very earth were resisting his mental touch, along with a moment of stomach-churning nausea. Korm fights off the nausea and forces his will against the barrier. There is a long sensation of increasing resistance and strain, and then he thrusts through it.

With closed eyes, Korm says, “What do we want to know?”

“Check for presence of powerful unnatural creatures, humans and areas which have been constructed.”

“Okay.” Korm concentrates, and across the ten mile wide space that he sees in his mind, dots and patches begin to appear. Green dots, most of them in two collections of approximately a hundred and half of that, indicate where humans, presumably members of the Carrion Tribes, are. Five large red dots indicate powerful creatures, all of them well separated from the others, the closest of them approximately two miles away. And even larger blind white patches mark where artificial structures have been created. The closest is the village of Rotting Blade, but there are a few more dotted around the area. The largest, just over five miles to the northwest, must be Burning Keep.

Korm opens his eyes and relates what he picked up. After some consideration, Nameless reluctantly admits that it doesn’t give them enough to go anywhere else. The Angels make their preparations and head down to the village of Rotting Blade.

Though they half expect the appearance of spell-hurling rakshasas or at least some alarm once they have left the shelter of the hills, the Angels encounter no response to their approach as they cross the large open area outside the village. As they reach the large stones and step through, they feel a slight tingle, vaguely resembling that one feels when affected by a spell, but significantly weaker. Since there is no evident effect, they continue onwards, along one of the rough paths that pass through the rough fields of lichens and low shrubs.

As they reach and enter the village, the adventurers encounter the first people, some of whom stop, stare for a moment, and then quietly go about their business. As described by Luna, they are mostly humans and orcs, with a few kobolds, dressed in rough clothing. None wear armor, and the most weaponry is a belt knife or a carpenter’s axe. A couple of the ramshackle, yet sturdy, stone houses have weapons hanging on the wall, visible through the open doors and windows, but the folk of Rotting Blade seem decidedly non-martial, especially in view of their village’s location.

“Something is very strange here,” mutters Nameless. For once, Gareth, who is attempting to read a mind or two as they slowly pass, nods in agreement. “Yes. They seem too calm and disinterested.” He concentrates as he walks, and then says quietly, “Most of them are mildly evil. And a couple of them are thinking, ‘More newcomers? Vraria will want to know.’”

“Who’s Vraria?” asks Korm rhetorically. He grins and adds, “And why don’t they automatically realize that you are reading their minds, as everyone seems to? They must be really stupid.”

Luna, in bear form, emits a long, low gurgle that is the ursine version of a chuckle. A couple of passersby, who have shown no real sign of being concerned about the heavily armed strangers walking through their village with a bear, quickly turn away. Luna chuckles again.

Six, currently appearing to be a human being thanks to his hat of disguise, waves at the retreating people, who look surprised, though one hesitantly waves back before continuing onwards.

The group soon reaches the large central building, where they attract a few curious looks but nothing more from the people sitting outside on crudely made stools or drawing water at the large well nearby. A couple of people appear at the windows to watch them approach and then disappear.

Entering, they find themselves in what seems like a cross between a poor tavern and a goods store. The wide room holds three tables, with chairs around them, and a couple of benches against the wall. The long counter has two sets of shelves, some holding what are presumably bottles of alcohol, and a much larger number holding small sacks of goods, crudely constructed tools, coils of rope and other such items.

A burly man is cleaning the counter and talking to one of the four people in the room, and he looks up with a broad smile. “Ah – visitors! Welcome to Rotting Blade. I’m Roval. How can I help you? Want something to drink?”

“Sure,” says Korm, walking forward.

“Excel…,” begins Roval, before seeing the bear walk in. “Um … is that thing house trained?”

Korm and the others exchange grins before he replies, “Yes, she is. Just don’t taunt the bear.”

“She? Err, okay. And I have no intention of doing so.” Roval produces a bottle with a thick, slightly scummy looking liquid in it. “Crapjuice?”

“What?!”

“Crapjuice. It’s a new batch.”

Korm shrugs. “Okay – why not?”

Six shakes his head as Roval pours a glassful and slides it across the counter. “You fleshies put really strange things into yourselves.”

Roval looks curiously at Six, perhaps because the comment comes from what seems to be just another person, but says nothing. Korm takes a swig of the liquid, which is a weak, thick alcohol, with a slightly salty taste and some crunchy bits, and grimaces slightly. “Could be stronger.”

Roval just smiles. “Want any food? Crap chop?”

“What?”

“Crap chop. Crapweed chop.” He nods at the glass in Korm’s hand. “Like that’s crapweed juice.”

“That’ll be those plants you have growing in the fields, right?”

“Yes. It’s our staple here.”

“What about meat?”

“Oh yes – we just had a new batch come in.”

“New batch? What kind of meat are we talking about?”

“Lizard.”

“Oh. That sounds good.”

While Korm is indulging in gastronomic adventures, the rest of the group are talking to an elderly orc, who walks up from one of the tables to talk to them. “Hello. I’m Uthcheq. We don’t get many travelers here,” he says. “What are you people doing in the Wastes?”

Nameless says, with a deadpan expression, “We have a survey we need filled out?”

“You what?!”

Six chips in. “Survey. We like to get our survey filled out in lots of places.”

“Well,” corrects Nameless, “We would like to. I don’t think we ever got anyone to fill one out. I thought that we had a chance with the beholder, but …”

Uthcheq looks back and forth between the two. “You’re both ins…”

“Yes, we get that a lot. Anyway,” asks Six, “Do you know where we could get a map of this area?”

At this point Gareth, who has been casually scanning the room, says quietly, “Can we talk outside, Nameless?”

“Sure. Excuse me, Uthcheq,” says the mage.

As soon as they are outside, Gareth hisses urgently, “That orc you were talking to is evil. Overwhelmingly evil.”

The alienist smiles, partly in relief and partly just to irritate Gareth. “Oh, good! That means we can probably trust them.” He turns and strides back into the chamber. Gareth stares after him, momentarily flabbergasted, and then strides just as quickly after him, scowling faintly.

They enter to find Uthcheq explaining that while maps are not available, there are a couple of people in the village who know the surrounding area particularly well and might be willing to act as guides. “Depends where you want to go. Any place particular?”

The question is never answered. Gareth attempts to detect thoughts on Uthcheq, and the orc resists. Uthcheq immediately steps away from the group, looking and sounding alarmed. “Somebody just tried to use magic on me. Was it one of you?”

Unsure whether it is Gareth or something else, Nameless looks around quickly, and asks, “I don’t think so. Do you have any rakshasas around here?”

“What?”

“Rakshasas. Furry guys with heads like tigers? They like to detect thoughts and things like that.”

Gareth attempts it one more time, and again fails. “That does it,” says Uthcheq, and promptly disappears. Roval, who had already been on his way through the back door when the commotion occurred, speeds up and disappears into the back room, while the few other villagers in the room also head quickly for the exits.

“Interesting,” says Nameless, flicking a coin at the space Uthcheq just occupied, in case he is just invisible. Luna moves forward, sniffing at the area, and then shakes her massive head to indicate that she cannot scent a presence nearby.

“What was that about?” asks Korm. “You think that was the rakshasa?”

“I doubt it,” says Nameless. “They’d just attack us, I think.”

“That guy was overwhelmingly evil!” interjects Gareth, before adding accusingly. “And Nameless thought that was just great news when I mentioned it.”

“Well,” says Six, “It’s not necessarily bad news. Really evil people usually do one of three things to us. They try to kill us immediately. Or they try to get us to do something for them. Or they try to trick us.”

“Good list,” says Korm. “Mind you, sometimes they do two and three together.”

“Yes. Anyway, since these guys didn’t try to kill us immediately…”

The Angels are again interrupted by Uthcheq, who this time walks in through the door, followed by a young human woman dressed in similarly drab and shapeless robes. As they enter, Nameless looks at them calmly. “Nice trick.”

“Thank you,” says Uthcheq, sounding slightly surprised as he notes how calmly these strange people are responding.

Except Gareth, who is again attempting to detect evil on the pair. While he is doing so, Uthcheq continues, “I had to leave and speak to someone about your arrival. She can tell you about those whom you are following. Will you come with Siyal and me to meet her? She has a proposition for you that I think you will appreciate.”

Korm and Six turn to each other with broad smiles and chorus, “It’s option two!”

“What?” asks a clearly confused Uthcheq. Six and Korm smile back and say, “Oh, nothing – just something we’ve been discussing.” Korm looks over at Nameless. “Maybe that’s what we should put on the survey.”

A disgusted Gareth ignores this byplay and says aloud, “She’s overwhelmingly evil too. And we’re going with them?”

“Oh, come on – Gareth,” says Nameless, sounding just as disgusted. “We know that already. Tell us something new. And do you have a better option?”

Uthcheq and the woman he called Siyal turn to consider Gareth curiously, and as he is about to reply, he now feels a magical force attempting to affect him. The paladin shakes it off easily with an effort of will, immediately recognizing it as an attempt to detect thoughts. With an oath, he rips Kizmet from its sheath. “They just tried to read my thoughts! They must be rakshasas!”

Both Uthcheq and Siyal step back, raising their hands, but Nameless is faster. “Stop it!” he says loudly. “All of you!” He steps between Gareth and the pair of villagers. “Let’s all stop screwing around. We’ll go with you, but don’t try to use anything magical on us. And we,” he adds with a frown at Gareth, “Won’t do so either.”

“Certainly,” says Uthcheq. “My apologies.” He walks up to and around the counter, Siyal following silently in his wake. “Please follow me.” The Angels do so, Gareth reluctantly putting away Kizmet as he does so. As they pass through the doorway, they find themselves in a small antechamber, meeting a surprised-looking Roval, carrying a couple of plates with large chops on them.

“Excellent!” says Korm, collecting the chops on the way, and chewing on one as they walk. The meat is surprisingly tasty, and the fact that it is a little undercooked enhances it in Korm’s opinion.

Uthcheq and Siyal lead the group to a narrow set of stairs leading down. Luna reluctantly changes shape in order to fit. “I see you people have some hidden skills too,” says Uthcheq, as they descend.

The group reaches a storage area in the basement, and Uthcheq leads them to a wall, where he pushes open a concealed door. Beyond is a short, dark corridor, ending at a wooden door. Uthcheq knocks and a pleasant female voice says, “Enter.”

Beyond is a large sitting room, roughly furnished, but seeming lavish and opulent in comparison to the village above. Sitting on a divan against the far wall is an attractive young human woman. “Welcome. Please – be seated. I am Vraria.” As the Angels move to take seats, Uthcheq and Siyal take up positions on either side of the door. “I have been expecting you,” continues Vraria. “I know who you have been looking for, and I can help you find them. And, in return, I have a small favor to ask.”

“I’m not promising anything,” says Nameless, “But we’re listening. First, however, just to make things easier, please humor me.” He turns to Gareth and says, “You know you’ll be wanting to do it, so just go ahead and detect evil on her.”

Gareth gives him a dirty look but complies, and then mutters, “She’s overwhelmingly evil too. Not that it matters to you idiots.”

Vraria, who has been looking on with interest, asks, “Detect evil? Are you then a paladin or a priest?”

“Yes,” says Gareth. “I am a paladin of the Silver Flame.” He removes the large cloak that he has worn over his clothing all this time, revealing his Flame-marked armor.

“Good. I was told there would be a worshipper of the Flame in the group,” says Vraria. “We do not often see people of your faith here, but one of them stopped by recently. He was a priest, I believe. He and his two companions left yesterday and went to Burning Keep, a location near here.”

At her words, a grin spreads across Nameless’s face so widely that it threatens to meet at the back of his head, and he throws back his head and guffaws. Korm does so too, while Six emits a metallic laugh. Luna turns a little red, claps a hand over her mouth, and turns quickly to Gareth, whose face has gone dark. “Oops!” she says, with a guilty smile, “My bad!”

“What’s going on?” asks Vraria curiously, with a slightly puzzled smile.

“Our friend here,” says Nameless, indicating Luna, “Visited Burning Keep and stole a few things from those people.”

“Hey!” says Luna defensively, “I didn’t know they were Flamers.”

“Like that would have mattered,” scoffs Korm.

“Well…,” says Luna, with another guilty smile, letting the sentence trail off.

Vraria shakes her head and then says, “Anyhow, it’s a good thing you know where Burning Keep is. The favor I need is the retrieval of an item from there. If and when you obtain it for me, I shall let you know what you want.”

“Before we agree to do that,” says Nameless, “How can we be sure you really know anything? After all, you could just be just trying to trick us into doing something you want.”

“All right,” says Vraria. “You are searching for two rakshasas, the leader of whom is called Zathara. He is an ak’chazar rakshasa, and…”

“Sorry for interrupting,” puts in Nameless, “But what exactly is an ak’chazar? I have heard the term but don’t know what it means.”

“It is a specific kind of rakshasa that tends to be especially good at spellcasting. They have white hair, as opposed to the more common, yellow-haired, variety.”

“Same as the drapes,” grins Nameless at his companions.

“What?”

“Just an interior decoration issue we had,” he says. “Please go on.” Seeing the expression on Vraria’s face, Nameless adds, “Yes, we know. We get that a lot.”

“I see,” she says. “As I was saying, Zathara is an ak’chazar. His follower and bodyguard, Nethatar, likes to wear a particularly thick form of antique armor and she uses a saw-toothed falchion. Does that sound accurate enough?”

“Yes,” says Korm. “I see you know them. So – what is it you want from us?”

“Though Burning Keep is mostly in ruins, part of the lower levels still exists. There is a hidden doorway there. Beyond it there is a powerful guardian. If you defeat him, you will find an amulet. That is what I want.”

“What form of guardian are we talking about?” asks Gareth, curious despite himself.

“Honestly, I do not know. Whatever it is, it’s very powerful. More than a few people have gone in there and none have returned. That includes a couple of rakshasas.”

“Great,” scowls Luna.

Vraria smiles thinly. “That is actually where I sent the worshipper of the Flame and his companions. They were not that powerful, so I doubt they succeeded.”

With a sideways glance at Luna, Six says, “I’m fairly sure they didn’t.”

“Since you are being so honest,” says Nameless, “Can you tell us who and what you are? And these two,” he jerks a thumb at Uthcheq and Siyal. “And a little about how you know so much about us.”

“Very well,” says Vraria, “In the interests of full disclosure.” She looks at Gareth and smiles slightly, before addressing the rest of the Angels. “He will behave, won’t he?”

“You can talk directly to me,” growls Gareth, a second before Nameless says firmly, “Yes – he will.”

Vraria simply nods and then, a second later, her form changes. Where there was a young woman a second later, there now sits a stooped, ugly crone, with large yellow fang-like teeth, her dark purple skin, the color of a livid bruise, hanging loose in long withered folds on her frame, red-rimmed eyes staring at the Angels to see their response. She nods, almost respectfully, as none of them even flinches, though Gareth’s glower deepens. Then she points a long clawed finger at the figures that stand against the door.

Uthcheq and Siyal now stand revealed in their true forms, that of humanoid felines like all rakshasas are, but where others bear the heads of tigers, the pair have those of panthers, borne of sleek bodies covered in short, coal-black hair.

“Night hag. And naztharune rakshasas,” says Nameless, his tone clinical and unconcerned.

“Impressive,” says Vraria. “Few people would recognize a naztharune on sight.”

Nameless shrugs. “And now that we know who you are, care to explain how you know so much about us?”

Vraria shrugs too. “I have known Zathara for centuries, though I haven’t seen him a long time. He and Nethatar stopped here three days ago, and he described you and said you might be coming this way. He asked that I allow Uthcheq and Siyal to attack and kill as many of you as possible.” She looks at the group speculatively. “You must be very powerful if you worry Zathara that much.”

I hope she’s right, think most of the Angels, as Vraria continues, “Anyway, that is enough information for now. Let me tell you how to find and enter the secret door.”

“One more thing,” says Luna. “Can you do something about this Taint thing? We’ve been having trouble with it, and if you can help us with it, we’ve got a better chance of kicking this guardian’s ass. We noticed the people here don’t seem to have a problem with it.”

“Yes,” says Vraria, baring fangs in what is presumably a smile. “Some of you do look … well, like . The villagers have mostly been born in the Wastes, so they’re born immune to it, and the others have developed it over time. Which, of course, you do not have. I can provide you a temporary cure. And a permanent one after you bring me the amulet.”

She reaches down, moving aside a long and withered breast that hangs to her waist, to produce a small jar. Oh, thinks Luna, That’s just wrong! Vraria hands it over and says, “Place some of the ointment on your tongue.” The Angels do so, finding that the yellowish-black paste disappears almost instantly, leaving an acrid aftertaste. Immediately, they do begin to feel slightly better.

“I guess that’s it then,” says Nameless. “We will be on our way. See you again soon.”

Vraria grins toothily again. “I hope.”

[AviLazar]

FYI - Gareths Charisma is high enough that his DC for Detect Thoughts is 20. Which means, if you don't have a crazy high wisdom, or are of the right class, you better be darned lucky to notice him using it.

[Rackhir]

Originally Posted by AviLazar

FYI - Gareths Charisma is high enough that his DC for Detect Thoughts is 20. Which means, if you don't have a aren't crazy high wisdom, or are of the right have pretty much any class levels, you better be darned un-lucky not to notice him using it.

Fixed it for you.

[shilsen]

Nearly three hours later, the Angels stand in the ruined basement of Burning Keep, looking at a blank stone wall. Six straightens from where he has been kneeling. “The tracks end here all right. Only going in. Looks like the other Flamers didn’t make it, Gareth.”

“Don’t call them Flamers,” says Gareth, giving Luna the evil eye. “It still doesn’t excuse her taking their things.”

This time, Luna looks unabashed. She pats the backpacks slung across her shoulder and grins. “Just giving them a good home.”

“And, as I said before,” comments Nameless, as he scans the area for ambient magic, “You didn’t have trouble with it before you found out about them being Flamers. So quit complaining now.” He looks around. “No magic that I can detect. It must be very well concealed. So, let’s try the phrase.”

Korm looks at the wall and intones loudly, “Darwaza dikhao*.”

Immediately, a six inch deep recess in the stone appears, forming the shape of a rounded doorframe a dozen feet high and about eight wide. Five finely cut dragonshards are set into it at well-spaced intervals. The door is a solid slab of stone, with no sign of a handle or a method for opening.

“Guess it works,” says Korm. “Let’s get ready before I try the opening phrase. If this guardian thing is as bad as she says, we’ll need all that we’ve got.” He and his compatriots cast a number of their standard preparatory spells. “Good thing Vraria took care of that Taint for us,” says Luna, before changing into a bear.

“Yes,” nods Korm, before looking up at the door again. “Okay – here goes. Darwaza kholo.”

Again, the effect is instantaneous. The stone doorway disappears, leaving behind a five foot stretch of tunnel. The tunnel disappears into a dense, thick fog, which the Angels recognize immediately. “Solid fog,” says Nameless.

“I can walk through it just fine right now,” says Korm, who has just used a freedom from movement on himself. “I’ll go ahead and check. You be ready.” The big orc steps into the tunnel.

As soon as he does, a surge of invisible magical energy assaults him. Korm staggers at the unexpected assault but shakes it off. “Aargh! There’s some kind of magic trap here. But I’m fine.” Undaunted, he does not even stop to heal himself, but proceeds into the fog, heading on with a hand on the wall to guide him and his sword extended to check the area ahead.

As soon as he takes a few steps, he hears the sound of soft giggling some distance ahead. Korm’s slight alarm at the sound is tempered immediately by his irritation as a question floats through the darkness behind him, in Six’s unmistakably metallic tones. “Korm – why are you giggling? And what’s wrong with your voice?”

“It’s not me! It’s something ahead.” As he speaks, Korm emerges from the fog, having covered what he estimates is sixty feet of tunnel, into the large chamber beyond it.

The walls, ceiling and floor of the square, forty foot long, room are featureless, made of a dark grey stone, which barely reflects the numerous continual flames that light it, which have been cast on apparently random locations around the chamber. Some are on the two rows of pillars that stretch down the room, holding up the ceiling twenty feet above. There are other flames (and more pillars) in an adjoining room too, which Korm can see through an open door to the side.

An odd feature that Korm notes is the little holes, smaller than the diameter of his little finger, which fill the room, covering walls, floor and ceiling. His attention, however, is mainly drawn by the only denizen of the room beside him.

Ten feet from the far wall stands a little gnome girl, maybe ten years old at best. She is dressed in a simple frock, worn under a long red hooded cloak, which ends right above the similarly colored boots on her feet. A wicker basket hangs on one arm.

Her eyes and Korm’s meet for a moment. Then, the little gnome girl smiles. And Korm’akhan, pride of the Gatekeepers, berserker bearer of the meteoric sword, who has faced mind flayers, beholders, dragons and rakshasas, turns and runs back into the fog.

Seconds later, he emerges on the other side. “What happened?” asks Gareth, surprised at Korm’s hurried arrival. “Did you see the guardian?”

“It’s a little girl,” gasps Korm.

“Wait,” asks Six, “Did you just run away from a little girl?” Luna gives a puzzled growl too. Nameless asks, “Was it something disguised as a little girl?”

“No idea,” says Korm with a scowl. “You didn’t let me finish. It’s a little gnome girl.”

“Crap!” says Six, “That changes things,” and Luna again gives a corroborating growl. Nameless and Gareth immediately begin to cast a couple of extra protective spells, as does Korm. While they are doing so, Korm describes the details of the room.

Once they are done, Nameless calls through the fog, “Hello?”

A childishly female voice answers, “Hello.”

“Who are you? What is your name?”

“Name?” The voice sounds a little puzzled, and then amused. “I do not … really have a name. But you can call me Red. Won’t you come and play with me?”

Suspiciously, Nameless asks, “What do you mean by play?”

“Um … play games?” There is an accompanying amused giggle, which doesn’t have quite the same effect on the Angels.

Luna growls and gestures around her chest, causing Six to ask, “Do you have an amulet there?”

“I dunno. If you come here, maybe I can help you look?”

“Why don’t you come out here?” asks Gareth, holding Kizmet, which emanates a feeling of combined curiosity and confusion.

“I can’t come out. You should come here. If you spend more time you’ll make Wolfie mad.”

“Wolfie? That doesn’t sound good,” mutters Korm. “I didn’t see anything else in there with her, but there were lots of shadows, and there was an open door to the next chamber.”

There is no other sound from beyond the fog, and Nameless finally shrugs. “Let’s just go in there and try to deal with it. We’re as prepared as can be.” The Angels prepare themselves to head in, Korm and Luna entering together, while Nameless plans to dimension door the rest past the fog.

Again, as soon as Korm (and this time, Luna) cross the threshold, they stagger under the impact of a magical assault. At the same time, Nameless casts his spell, but nothing happens. “Hold it!” Nameless casts a detect magic and soon says, “I detect a moderately powerful abjuration. Considering how it affects you whenever you enter, I’m guessing it’s a forbiddance. It’ll hurt us all as we enter, but once in, we’ll be fine. Unfortunately, it blocks all dimensional travel spells, including dimension door and teleport, as well as all summonings.”

Luna growls her irritation, as the alienist continues, “Anyway, can’t be helped. Let’s go on.” Luna, Gareth and he enter, wincing at the pain, and then the Angels stop to restore everyone to complete health. Having done so, they proceed through the solid fog. As they are doing so, Luna feels a whiff of air behind her. Reaching back with a rear paw, she feels it slide on an incredibly smooth and hard barrier, though Nameless, turning around to look, can see nothing. “Ah, great!” says Nameless. “I think it’s a Wall of Force.”

With no real option, the group continues carefully through the fog. They emerge into the chamber Korm described, to face the smiling visage of the little girl. “Ooh!” she squeals in excitement, “Lots of friends.” She peers at Six. “And a tin and wood man!” Then she lifts up her basket. “Do you want a treat?”

Korm looks around at the others, shrugs and steps forward. “Sure.”

Red steps forward, lifting the cover off the basket, to show that it is full of flat biscuit-like creations, brownish-gray in color and shaped like little bones. “Have one?” says Red.

“All right, I’ll try one,” says Korm, picking one up. As he is popping it into his mouth, he asks, “So, can you help us find this amulet we need?”

“Okay,” says Red, with a happy smile. “Do you like the treat?”

Korm chews and finds that the ‘treat’ is made of dried, solidified meat. As he swallows, he finds it has little specks of a harder substance in it. One larger and sharper piece catches in Korm’s teeth and he pulls it out, to see that it is a little shard of bone.

As he looks at it, Red says, “Give me a kiss?” She spreads her arms to be lifted, and as he looks down at her, Korm suddenly feels a powerful will insinuate itself into his mind, pushing aside all mental barriers and compelling him to obey her commands.

“Sure,” he says, or at least his body does, while his psyche claws desperately at the magical bonds from the back of his mind. To no avail. Korm picks Red up and kisses her on the cheek, while she throws both arms around his neck.

At her touch, Korm immediately feels a strange weakness** overcome him. His movements slow slightly, his thoughts become a little fuzzy and he feels his two most powerful dweomers slip from his mind. His companions, who have been watching with bemusement, see his face turn suddenly and deadly pale.

On the positive side, the effect breaks the control she had exerted over him and, with a startled cry of mingled pain, fear and anger, Korm hurls the little girl away from him as hard as he can. Red too lets out a startled cry as her small form flies through the air, but she never hits the ground. As she is thrown, both Luna and Six notice that her shadow is absolutely huge, much larger than should be, and moving in a manner that doesn’t fit her movements.

Now, moving with breathtaking speed, the shadow wraps around Red, stopping her fall in midair. As she hangs suspended for a second, more and more shadows wrap around her, expanding in size and taking on solidity. Within a second of Korm hurling her away, instead of Red there stands an ogre-sized creature, its heavily muscled form covered in what seems to be sleek ebony skin, its two long arms tapering down to large hands with cruelly hooked claws. Even more strangely, it has no head, its torso ending where a neck should be. Instead, Red’s head, still covered in her hooded cloak, protrudes from its chest.

She wears an expression of mild concern, and says, in an admonishing manner, “Now see what you did, silly? You made Wolfie really mad!”

Even as she speaks, the Angels burst into violent motion. The two druids are the fastest, unleashing claws and blade against it, but they might as well be attacking a mountain, for all the effect their weapons have, bouncing off the creature’s ebony hide without scratching it. Even as they charge in together, Nameless casts a spell and the air ripples, a bolt of sonic energy sliding neatly between them. To the alienist’s surprise, his target, large as it is, nimbly sidesteps, letting the attack pass harmlessly by.

Its movement takes it closer to an onrushing Gareth, who calls aloud upon the Flame, bringing Kizmet down in a gleaming arc that trails silver fire in its wake. Even Red, turning her head from where it protrudes from the chest of ‘Wolfie’ comments appreciatively, “Ooh – pretty!” And then Wolfie’s arm moves with amazing speed, deflecting Kizmet just enough that the blade hits its shoulder at an angle and bounces off.

“!” says Six, as he dives by to try and catch the enemy between them. “We’re in trouble.” Deciding to try something different, the warforged swings low, his chain wrapping around its left leg. He tugs as hard as he can, and then stumbles off balance as Wolfie pulls back with much greater force. With a curse, Six lets go his chain and reaches for another. More cheerfully, Red says sympathetically, “Oopsie!”

Wolfie pauses to kick away the chain around its leg and then turns to Luna. Suddenly, a dark, wolflike head appears above its shoulders and it howls wildly. Overly muscular arms reach out to sink claws deep into the bear’s side and then rip and tear, while the head snaps long teeth into her back. Luna groans, feeling a similar draining sensation to the one Korm just felt, spells fading from her mind as well. Wolfie howls again in triumph and then its head fades away as quickly as it appeared.

The next few seconds are full of fear, frustration and fleeting relief for the Angels. Wolfie moves with unusual speed and its rocklike form blocks most blows. Even when sword and spell do connect, they inflict less damage than they should, and the wounds are closing, if ever so slowly. And to round things off, the creature seems resistant to magic as well.

Nevertheless, the wounds do accumulate. Six is soon pulling a third chain from his magical haversack, but the distraction he provides lets the others have a chance to hit. Nameless, having quickly cast the assay resistance spell Saala Torrn gifted him, batters Wolfie with magic missiles. The Silver Flame finally comes through for Gareth, Kizmet blazing a deep wound across the creature’s chest. And, unlike the wounds left by Korm’s sword, Six’s chain and Luna’s claws, this wound seems completely unaffected by the creature’s ability to absorb some of its wounds.

With an angry growl, Wolfie lashes out, laying Gareth’s arm open, draining him just as it has the others. And then the shadows in the chamber seem to rise up and swirl around it, and both Wolfie and Red are gone.

“What the hell?” says Korm, looking around, as do his companions. “Is it gone?” He concentrates and his nose and mouth lengthen into a muzzle, the hairs on it standing to attention, and he sniffs the still air around him. Though neither he nor the others can see it, Korm’s now heightened sense of smell lets him pick out a strange scent, dry and desiccated. And it is moving, passing behind and around a pillar to come up on the side of the Angels, who are looking around for it.

As Korm shouts a warning, Luna emits a similar growl, her sense of scent having pinpointed the same target. Even though she knows precisely where it is and is looking right at the spot, she sees nothing. But that’s not going to stop me, thinks the druid bear, lifting a claw and gesturing, while she growls an incantation. Immediately, a lavender glow appears in the area, outlining Wolfie’s form for all to see.

And target. As the surprised creature, which has been enjoying the chance of sneaking up on its enemies, pauses, the Angels rush it. And this time, luck seems to favor them. Wolfie is in the middle of a step when Six’s chain wraps around its leg, and the warforged hurls himself to the side. For a moment, Wolfie teeters and then crashes to the ground. Immediately, Luna and Korm are on it, hacking and slashing, while another spell from Nameless smashes into it. Most damagingly again, Gareth steps forward and slashes down at it with Kizmet.

Wolfie howls again, this time in both pain and rage, and then its form falls apart into a mistlike vapor. The reason for the holes is immediately revealed as the vapor flows into the floor and disappears.

“Did we kill it?” asks Six. Nameless shakes his head. “I doubt it. And I just realized what it is. The ability to drain our energy and to assume gaseous form? It’s a …”

“Vampire,” completes Gareth, grimly. “No wonder the damn thing was so resistant to your weapons.”

“Not yours, however,” comments Korm.

“I’m special.” Gareth smiles slightly as he calls on Kizmet to heal his wounds.

“No time to waste,” says Nameless. “Let’s check the other room.”

The Angels hurry through the connecting door and short tunnel to find themselves in a similarly lighted – and perforated – room, but much larger, and with multiple rows of pillars. They quickly spread out and begin to search the room, but neither magical nor mundane checking reveals anything hidden.

A minute has passed, when Nameless is very unpleasantly surprised by a cloud of vapor, still outlined in lavender light, which flows out of the ground next to him. Even as he calls a warning, it transforms back into the form of Wolfie. The ebony form still bears the scars of some of the wounds the Angels had inflicted, but most of them have been healed. Red’s face still protrudes from its chest, and she smiles cheerfully, and says, “I spy, with my little eye – you!”

“Spy this!” mutters Nameless, stepping back and unleashing a spell. The alienist throws all of his magical energy and knowledge into it, crafting the most powerful fireball that he has ever cast or seen***. And as the magical flames blossom, he screams in frustration as Wolfie nimbly dodges between the bursts of fire, leaping out and away from their path.

Focused on the magic as they are, both Nameless and the creature have missed a more mundane factor. Even as the fireball is exploding, Luna is charging forward. Seeing the creature leaping away and hearing Nameless shout in anger, she abandons her planned attack and simply throws her bulk into Wolfie. Nearly two thousand pounds of angry bear slam into it, smashing it back into the heart of the flames****.

It screams, as flesh melts, chars and falls to dust. And this is when Wolfie makes its second mistake. The first was to return to the attack before it was fully healed from its wounds. And now, badly wounded, it should flee through the holes, where the Angels cannot follow, and return later. But it is both pained and completely infuriated. Bound to this place centuries ago, the guardian lives a strange semi-life, doomed to remain in stasis until intruders appear, fighting and destroying them, and then being returned to stasis shortly afterwards. Its only function is to destroy, though the strange humor of its rakshasa creator displays itself in the twin personality of Red and Wolfie that he put together into it. It is only sentient in a limited sense. And it does not completely believe that it might lose. In all the years since its creation, whatever it has faced, whether human, orc, elf, ogre, giant or rakshasa, it has destroyed. And nothing has ever hurt it quite as much as the Angels have. Whatever veneer of sentience the creature has is lost as it focuses purely on destruction.

It howls its anger and pain, before lashing out at Nameless with all its power. He is lifted from the floor and a flurry of claws and fangs lay his chest and throat open to the bone. Even so, the alienist might have remained barely conscious, but the additional, automatic draining of energy is too much to bear, and he drops into a rapidly spreading pool of blood.

But even as he goes down, his allies swarm all over the enemy. Sword, chain and claw strike home, and again, Kizmet strikes the deadliest blow. This time, Wolfie’s body falls apart into streamers of shadow that flash out of existence. All they leave behind is Red’s falling form, which turns into another cloud of smoke before it hits the ground. It seeps through the holes, a parting bolt of flame from Luna passing harmlessly through it.

“Did we kill it?” asks Six again.

“Not really,” says Gareth. “If it’s a true vampire, it will return, after taking time to recover in its coffin. That can take hours. But we beat it.”

To underline his words, there is a loud ‘click’ and a large panel flips open in the wall, to reveal a peg from which an amulet hangs, while a number of items, mostly clothing, are arrayed beneath it. Korm, Six and Gareth hurry to it.

A loud growl interrupts them, and they turn to see Luna standing over Nameless’s form. She shakes her head in disgust at them and then channels as powerful a spell as she can. The alienist convulses, as many of his wounds close, and groggily opens his eyes. “Since I'm still breathing, I presume we won.”

“Yes,” says Korm. “And we found the amulet.”

He turns to examine it, a dark metal oval shaped into the snarling head of a rakshasa, hanging from a similar dark metal chain. Korm reaches out to pick it up. As he touches the amulet, he feels a wave of weakness wash over him, similar to what the guardian’s touch did, but twice as powerful.

With a curse, Korm drops the amulet, and the feeling of weakness instantly disappears. “O-kay!” He carefully picks the amulet up with a cloth, making sure not to contact it, and sticks it in a bag. Then he and the others quickly grab the rest of the items there. “Let’s get out of here.”

Nameless, shakily having climbed back to his feet and then onto Luna’s back, nods. “I just hope that wall of force isn’t there. If it is, we’re screwed.”

Luckily for the Angels, it isn’t, and seconds later they are back in the basement of Burning Keep. As they emerge from the secret chamber, the stone door flashes back into existence behind them, so close that it shaves a few hairs off Luna’s tail. Seconds later, there’s a rumble from the surrounding stone. Even though it has apparently stood for centuries, cracks begin to appear in it and dust streams down from the crumbling ceiling. As the Angels hurry up the stairs, the rumbling gets louder and turns into the sound of crashing stone, as the lowest level, followed more slowly by the penultimate one, and then the one above it, collapses in on itself. As they emerge into the top level, a thick cloud of dust billows up the stairs after them. Waving away the dust, they see that it is blocked from only a few feet down with debris and rubble.

“Well, nobody’s going down there again,” says Six.

“Good riddance,” says Nameless, while Korm and a now shifter Luna begin to heal the group one by one. “At least we got what we wanted and came out alive. I’m just curious what kind of bastard would design such a thing and put it down there.”


* Why, yes – fiends do use Hindi for all magical passwords.
** 2 negative levels
*** Rolled a 53 on 10d6
**** More mundanely, that was me allowing Luna’s player to throw in an action point (Nameless already had asked to do so and rolled but not well enough) to lower the enemy’s save to the point where he failed to make it. See – I really am just a pussycat.

[Vorput]

Well, I finally finished reading the story hour (I told myself I wouldn't post until I was done)- but well done Shilsen!!

I've really enjoyed reading the write-ups and watching the continuing adventures of the Angels as they find themselves in strange situation after strange situation.

Printed off installments of this story hour are at least 85% responsible for the keeping of my sanity in my Hebrew class!

Now comes the sad day when I have to wait for the installments as they come weekly... like everyone else... ::sniffs::

Awesome Job- you've basically sold me on trying Eberron as a setting in the next game I DM, and I've gotten plenty of ideas (from your setting and player's actions alike) to use in future campaigns.

Keep it up!

-Vorp

[Rackhir]

Originally Posted by Vorput

Well, I finally finished reading the story hour (I told myself I wouldn't post until I was done)- but well done Shilsen!!

I've really enjoyed reading the write-ups and watching the continuing adventures of the Angels as they find themselves in strange situation after strange situation.

Printed off installments of this story hour are at least 85% responsible for the keeping of my sanity in my Hebrew class!

Now comes the sad day when I have to wait for the installments as they come weekly... like everyone else... ::sniffs::

Awesome Job- you've basically sold me on trying Eberron as a setting in the next game I DM, and I've gotten plenty of ideas (from your setting and player's actions alike) to use in future campaigns.

Keep it up!

-Vorp

Glad you're enjoying it. Shil should have another update in the next couple of days. There's been a fair amount of banter with the Night Hag.

If you're looking for another good read, you might want to try the Chronicles of Burne and Some Others of Lesser Importance. That's the tuesday campaign Shil and I are in. It's funnier and has a higher pun quotient, though it's not quite as dramatic as Shil's campaign. There's a link in my sig above.

[shilsen]

Originally Posted by Vorput

Well, I finally finished reading the story hour (I told myself I wouldn't post until I was done)- but well done Shilsen!!

I've really enjoyed reading the write-ups and watching the continuing adventures of the Angels as they find themselves in strange situation after strange situation.

Printed off installments of this story hour are at least 85% responsible for the keeping of my sanity in my Hebrew class!

Thanks. I couldn't have done it without the fairly insane combination of players I have.

And that's the first time anybody's ever mentioned that I protected them from Hebrew class

Now comes the sad day when I have to wait for the installments as they come weekly... like everyone else... ::sniffs::

Sadly, we're not playing till the weekend of the 2nd/3rd December, but I should have one more up in a couple of days. Things are rapidly coming to a head with the Angels and the rakshasas.

Awesome Job- you've basically sold me on trying Eberron as a setting in the next game I DM, and I've gotten plenty of ideas (from your setting and player's actions alike) to use in future campaigns.

Keep it up!

-Vorp

Thanks again. I think it's fairly obvious that I really like the setting (at least partly because it has many built-in preconceptions and tropes that I was always fond of using), so I'm glad I might get someone else to try and enjoy it.

[shilsen]

Handled between sessions:

Once it’s clear that the rest of the tower is not about to fall, the Angels stop to rest and heal up as much as possible. Despite the healing, everyone besides Six bears the marks of their encounter with the vampire guardian, and there is nothing at hand to be able to deal with it. They also take the time for Nameless to study the magical auras of the items that they recovered. He is fairly certain of most of them, but two are difficult to determine, namely one ring and the belt.

Luna immediately offers to try both on. The ring provides no signs of its nature, but the belt, after experimentation, appears to have the same effect as the greater magic fang spell she likes to use. Interestingly, when she wears it and wildshapes, the belt remains active and changes to look like a dark strip of hair (or feathers, as a bird) encircling her midriff. Luna’s great pleasure at the discovery is slightly lessened when Gareth points out that it draws attention to her middle and makes her look fat.

Nameless, meanwhile, also studies the amulet, without actually touching it physically. He finds that it has strong auras of abjuration, conjuration and transmutation, but can make out nothing else about it.

Once all of this is done, the Angels head back towards Rotting Blade. The return trip takes longer than it should, since they have to detour around half a dozen creatures, which are currently feasting on the bodies of the three giant lizards the slew on the way. These look like large predatory cats in general shape, but have reddish scales and a row of foot-long spines growing down the middle of their backs, as well as an extra set of legs. Considering their condition, the Angels decide to swing wide around them, rather than risk another unnecessary battle, and manage to do so successfully.

It is late afternoon by the time they reach Rotting Blade. Though night falls early in the Demon Wastes, it seems to be doing so much faster this day, with the sky seeming darker than it should be when they near the village. Or perhaps it is just a particularly thick pall of smoke from the many volcanoes and flame pits of the area.

When they enter the village, the people again say nothing to them, though the Angels notice more of them are watching covertly. Gareth picks up a fair amount of curiosity in the minds he passes, as they return to the central tavern. Once there, they find Siyal waiting in human form, who quickly leads them through the back room, down to the cellar, and to the room where they had met Vraria.

Vraria is there, talking to Uthcheq, who is still in his orc form. He moves away and takes a position opposite Siyal and beside the door, taking on his true form (as Siyal already has). Vraria, also in her true form as a night hag, looks at the Angels with gleaming eyes. But as she looks around, noting that all of them are there, disappointment grows clearly in her eyes.

“So,” she says, “Since you are all here, I presume that means you did not encounter the guardian?” Hopefully, she adds, “Or did you?”

Nameless replies, “Ah – that information will cost you extra. There are a number of things you might be interested in knowing about that tower. But we can discuss that, once we have satisfied ourselves as to the quality of the information you have promised us.”

Vraria frowns slightly but then smoothes her countenance. “Maybe. But more importantly, do you have the amulet? And if so....”

She extends a hand.

Nameless shows her the amulet, make sure she gets a good look at it, and then drops it back into the bag of holding.

”I don’t wish to be rude, but we have just faced down a most ‘interesting’ guardian to retrieve this on your behalf and we do need that information. Before you raise the obvious objection, we WILL live up to our half of the bargain. If for no other reason than that we have no desire to make additional enemies. The ones we have currently are more than sufficient and I am getting very tired of people screwing with us.”

Nameless pauses to smile broadly. “Besides, I’d never hear the end of it from Korm, if we didn’t live up to our agreement. Do you know that he actually insisted that we negotiate in good faith with a mindflayer? And he’s a Gatekeeper.”

He ignores the dirty look from Korm and concludes, “So the information first please.”

Luna pipes in at this point, raising a hand to attract Vraria’s attention. “Hi. Would you happen to have a restoration or something lying around nearby? And feel free to remove this Taint any time.”

Vraria stares at Luna for a bit and then says, “You are insane. Still, that can be taken care of – and in fact, I can handle that more easily when I have the amulet.”

She looks past Luna and speaks a few syllables to her servitors. Only Nameless understands, since the language is Fiendish, the command to be, “Watch the wizard. If he, or anybody else, tries to flee with the bag, kill him.” The intent, however, is clear to everyone, as both of the naztharunes step forward quickly, shortswords appearing in their hands, to position themselves behind Nameless.

As they move, Vraria quickly adds, this time in Common, “Do not be alarmed. There is no danger – as long as you keep your side of the bargain. If you try to leave with that bag, you” (she looks at Nameless) “Will die for sure.”

Vraria then takes a seat and says, “Here is the information - and I have a little extra for you. Zathara has, for centuries, been interested in the Lake of Fire, or more precisely, in what is bound beneath it. The Lake of Fire is a few miles from here, and though I don’t know who lies beneath it, I know it is one of the greatest of the Rajahs. Whether Zathara wants to awaken him, or it, or simply to leach some of his power, I don’t know. Whatever benefits Zathara most, I presume.”

“I have worked with him for short periods before, mainly because it benefited me and there was never any fear that he might succeed. I don’t want one of the Rajahs out any more than you, I presume, do. There’s no way to predict the results. I have a very comfortable situation here, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Whatever he found in your lands, I don’t know, but I know Zathara was more excited about it than I’ve ever seen him. He clearly thinks that it’ll help him succeed at whatever he has planned. When he stopped here, that was only to inform me to slay you if you ever showed up.” Vraria looks speculatively around the group, which does quite look the worse for wear now. “For some reason, you have him worried.” She shrugs. “Well, you did defeat the guardian, whatever it was, and I know it has slain rakshasas before, so maybe he has reason.”

“Anyhow, I know he was going to a lair he has to the north, in order to recover some things and make preparations, before returning here. As soon as you left, I sent Uthcheq here to the volcano. And he returned only minutes before you came. Uthcheq – tell them what you saw.”

The panther-headed rakshasa speaks, but the blades in his paws, only inches from Nameless’s back, don’t move. “I was watching the Lake of Fire from a distance, and after an hour, I saw three figures appear on the lower slopes to the West. I quickly moved closer and verified that while all three were rakshasas, one was an ak’chazar. It must have been Zathara. He held up a small object, like a rod made of crystal or a large dragonshard, and an amber beam shone from it. A doorway appeared in the side of the volcano and the ak’chazar, and one other, this one carrying the blade that Nethatar wields, entered. The other rakshasa waited by the doorway. As soon as the two entered, there was an explosion.” He looks at Vraria. “I hurried back to tell you. As I was coming, I heard a loud rumbling and the Lake began to spew smoke into the air, and I think I saw a small eruption.”

As he ends, Vraria says, “And there you have it. They are at the Lake of Fire, where Zathara is trying to achieve whatever he has been seeking to. You must have seen the darkness in the sky when you were arriving. That is the smoke from the Lake. You have no time, so hand over the amulet, let me help you as I can, and leave.”

There is a moment’s silence as everyone digests what she said, and then Nameless quietly takes the amulet out of the bag and hands it over to her, saying, “Well, it sounds like we are all about to run out of time.”

As he is doing so, silver flames erupt in a diagonal line down Gareth's back. Luckily for Nameless, the naztharune are very well-trained, and Vraria did tell them to kill him only if someone tried to escape, so the blades at his back move barely an inch closer before they stop.

“What th...,” begins Vraria, before she recovers to quickly grab the amulet from Nameless's hand. She quickly drops the chain around her neck, letting it dangle on her withered chest, and then completes the original sentence. “What the Hells is that?”

It is now clear that the flames, which continue to burn, are running up and down the sheathed blade of Kizmet. They do not harm or burn Gareth in any way, but those near him can feel their heat. Gareth, however, notices something extra. For a moment, there is a voice, a harsh, metallic voice, in his head. “The Lake of Fire. You must go to the Lake.” A scene flashes in his mind, the scene from his dream where he holds the Key in one hand and Kizmet in the other. Then both voice and scene fade, and, a few seconds later, so do the flames.

Silent for a moment, more due to shock than anything else, Gareth smiles happily, his face masked behind his helmet. As the flames die down, he says, “She is correct. We must go to the Lake of Fire. There we will defeat our prey and complete this holy quest.” Silently, the paladin gives a prayer to the Silver Flame, thanking the Flame for its help and guidance.

Vraria looks a little suspiciously at Gareth, and then settles for a comment of “You need to be careful with that sword. Do that in the wrong place and you’ll be dead before you know it.”

Then she switches her attention to the amulet. She looks down at it and smiles, before stroking it gently in an almost lascivious manner. “Just to make sure...,” she mutters, and then looks back up. “Would you,” (she points at Nameless) “Please detect magic on me, and you,” (she indicates Gareth) “Detect my thoughts?” Vraria puts her hands on her hips and waits.

Nameless shrugs and complies, detecting the same magical auras as before on the amulet and also picking up a few magical auras on her. Gareth, meanwhile, picks up the surface thought, “I'm thinking that you very likely are screwed.”

“So,” Vraria asks, “What did you pick up?” When they answer, she grins toothily, and then places a hand on the amulet. After a few seconds, she says, “Now try it again.”

This time, there is no effect whatsoever. As far as Nameless’s spell and Gareth’s divine ability are concerned, Vraria might as well not exist. When they explain what happened (or rather, didn’t), she smiles broadly, and says, sounding just a little relieved, “I always did want to experience the joys of a Mind Blank.”

Vraria sighs contentedly and says, “It is the Amulet I wanted. You have done very well – better than I really expected. Since you have little time, let’s make this quick. What sort of help do you need?” She looks at Luna. "A restoration, you said. And a cure for the Taint. Anything else?”

“Most of us could use a restoration, except for him.” Nameless jerks a thumb at Six. “Also, if you can speed up our transit to the Lake of Fire, that would seem to be advisable. I lost my teleports when I was drained by the guardian. There’s also a ring we recovered from the guardian. It would be nice to know if it’s useful.”

Vraria is about to reply to Nameless, when Luna breaks in. “Do me first! I’m already molting and retaining water! I simply can’t also have taint and be energy drained too! It’s unseemly! And I feel all cross and put out! And like I can’t enjoy killing things or even playing with our new magic items in this condition!”

The night hag smiles thinly at her words. “You people really are a little insane. Hopefully that makes you the right ones to stop Zathara.” The tone of voice betrays a little uncertainty about that.

”To that end, I’ll do what I can to make things easier for you. After all,” she adds with a real smile this time, “I might as well try out the limits of my new toy. All those who need healing, hold hands.”

When they do so, Vraria reaches out and touches Luna’s shoulder. Luna feels a warmth flow in from her hand and spread instantly through her body. The next person feels the warmth flow in from Luna’s hand and spread through and to the next person. And so on, till everyone feels it. Vraria closes her eyes, raises her other hand to grasp the amulet, and concentrates.

After a couple of seconds, starting with the last person, the warmth recedes. And as it passes, so does the feeling of weakness that they have had since the battle with the guardian. And even the least lingering traces of the Taint. As Luna feels the last of the warmth drain from her, Vraria staggers, even her purplish-black complexion paling, and almost falls. The two naztharune rakshasas tense, their blades ready to strike if needed, but Vraria gestures quickly. “Stop – I’m fine.”

She straightens, still looking weak, and again closes a hand around the amulet. She closes her eyes and, after a second, her normal blackish-purple complexion reasserts itself. “Aaah!”

Reopening her eyes, she says, “That’s as much as I can do for you right now. And I can’t get you to the Lake of Fire any more quickly. It’s almost directly to the northeast. Four miles. You’ll see it easily enough once you get past the second set of hills in that direction. With what’s going on in the sky, I don’t think you can miss it. The door’s easy enough to see. To the southwest – right, Uthcheq?" The naztharune nods silently.

“There you are. As for that ring you mentioned...,” Vraria stops and walks over to a cabinet and produces an ornately carved chest. She opens it and after rummaging inside for a bit, pulls out a scroll and tosses it to Nameless. “That should do it, but you’ll have to use the spell.”

“And now, I suggest you leave. Quickly.” Vraria pauses and looks around at all of the Angels, clearly weighing their potential. “And, paladin or not, I suggest you all pray.”

[Vorput]

::crosses fingers that Gareth's next move will be to smite the night hag::

Just to, you know, spice things up a bit.

[Sidekick]

<grabs popcorn and settles in>

Ohhh I feel a big climactic battle coming up. I hop ethat the Angels do the job and stop the Rhakshassa's.

or failing that all die trying with Gareth completeing that final smite beofre he falls into teh lake of fire and dies.

That would be cinematic.

A shame but a cinematic shame...

[Rackhir]

Originally Posted by Vorput

::crosses fingers that Gareth's next move will be to smite the night hag::

Just to, you know, spice things up a bit.

I don't know if this will please or frighten you, but this is exactly the sort of suggestion that Shilsen is always making to us. He was even trying to tempt us to screw over the Hag with regards to the Amulet, despite the fact that it was causing 4 negative levels to anyone (presumably non-evil) who was touching it.

[shilsen]

Originally Posted by Rackhir

I don't know if this will please or frighten you, but this is exactly the sort of suggestion that Shilsen is always making to us. He was even trying to tempt us to screw over the Hag with regards to the Amulet, despite the fact that it was causing 4 negative levels to anyone (presumably non-evil) who was touching it.

I deny the accusation. The fact that I provided a couple of indications of how full of yummy goodness the amulet was has purely for flavor reasons. It has absolutely nothing to do with trying to get the PCs into even more trouble than they already are. Nothing, I tell you.

P.S. The amulet actually messes up non-outsiders. So once Nameless has achieved apotheosis he can go back and kick Vraria's ass and take it. It's a minor artifact, BTW.

Originally Posted by Sidekick

<grabs popcorn and settles in>

Ohhh I feel a big climactic battle coming up. I hop ethat the Angels do the job and stop the Rhakshassa's.

or failing that all die trying with Gareth completeing that final smite beofre he falls into teh lake of fire and dies.

That would be cinematic.

A shame but a cinematic shame...

Yes, I think it's safe to say there's a climactic fight coming up all right. And in all honesty, I don't know how this one will go. In all of the fights the PCs have had so far, including ones where they got beat down, I could generally predict which side would win. But this time, there are going to be enough elements in play (including a couple that the PCs don't know of) that I just don't know. Of course, with my action point rule, the PCs aren't likely to lose unless they all lose, but that just means it's likely to be an 'everyone survives' or TPK.

Speaking of which, I'm going to be dropping action pts for this fight and doing something different. The one downside with the action pts the way I do it (rerolls are always an 11-20 on d20) is that a PC literally can't fail on one of their good saves if using an action pt. And with me allowing 2 action pts per session and usually having only 1-2 fights, they can invariably always choose to use one. While I don't like action pts to be used with no result, I don't want them to mean auto-success on saves either.

So what I'm going to be doing is replacing them with swashbuckling cards. We use them in a game I'm in run by Rolzup (the author of Burne's Story Hour, in my sig) and they've worked very well. They're more random than action pts but can often be much more effective. And are usually funny as heck. They will also be able to prevent death, as the action pts do, but will be a little more cost-intensive in that area. I've been meaning to try them out in my game, and what better time than in a climactic fight where the fate of Khorvaire can be decided? It's not as if anything might go wrong

[Vorput]

Originally Posted by shilsen

P.S. The amulet actually messes up non-outsiders. So once Nameless has achieved apotheosis he can go back and kick Vraria's ass and take it. It's a minor artifact, BTW.

It had better be!!! An amulet that provides a continuous mind blank... Every PC I've ever played is drooling.